#5 - One Step Forward, Two Steps Back (8/14/2021)

The sky alighted with the faintest hint of morning’s hues; a blend of pink, purple, and orange blended together through the mist, lighting the path for the woodland elf exploring the city streets. With no need of the sleep that consumed so many hours of humans, she liked to take advantage of the morning stillness that allowed for reflection on the events that had befallen them thus far. She hoped that Norris, a scholar at the The House of Oghma, in Suzail, would have some answers for them today about the mysterious Circle of Eight. Dawn broke, and she made her way back to the Leaning Post to collect her companions. Along the way, she gave in to the temptation to pick a coin purse off an unpleasant-looking man berating his apprentice. Serves the brute right, she thought, pocketing the gold.

Not an hour after Naivara’s return to the inn, a messenger arrived from the House of Oghma. “Norris is ready with the information you requested,” he stated plainly, seeming unhappy that he had been sent as the errand-boy for this task. They weren’t long in readying themselves; after a few mouthfuls of bread and cheese to break their fast they took their leave.

“This had better be good,” Torvald said, clenching his sword in reflex as they walked through the massive oak doors at the House. Naivara and Agril exchanged skeptical glances, while Ember, always the optimist, patted Torvald on the shoulder and smiled in a gesture of support.

Norris emerged from the shadows of the hall to greet them. “I hope your wait has not been too uncomfortable,” he said sincerely. Torvald drew breath as if to comment but Naivara swiftly jabbed her elbow into his side before he could speak.

“Please, tell us what you found,” she said.

“There wasn’t much, but I was able to track down some scraps of information about these symbols,” Norris began. “These symbols are from ages long past, long out of memory even by beings as old as elves. From what I can piece together, they represent the eight schools of magic, but I can’t quite say exactly what types of magic they are supposed to represent. They could be used to focus and amplify the power of ritual magic by the high mages, but this magic has fallen out of use and been forgotten since the fall of Netherel.”

“Now, the Circle of Eight was the greatest group of masters of each type of magic from across the whole world. The powers that they held, though, caused corruption amongst them and a struggle to become the supreme mage ensued. The group destroyed themselves through their own obsession and lust for power. Most of their arcane knowledge was lost. A new circle may have been formed, but if it has, it is likely a pale comparison to the original circle. However, the knowledge that was was when the circle destroyed itself could spell disaster if it fell into similarly corrupt hands as the former circle. I was unable to find anything specific regarding the cult and human sacrifices that you have witnessed, but the presence of these symbols is most concerning. It means that this potent and dangerous magic is once again in use.”

Pacing around the room, he continued. “The sword is indeed an enigma. As you know, it has been used in blood rituals, and that is never a good sign. Generally weapons like this are created by powerful demons, with rituals that would make the blood run cold of even the most heartless of men. The locations of these rituals do seem to happen in places where this old magic may reside. The Haunted Halls is one such place, and the gems in the mine you explored exude residuum, which amplifies magic. If more rituals are to take place, which I seems likely based on the information you have presented to me, they will likely be in places of power. Cormanthor, the Hall of Ruins, Hongadath, and Thaymount are all such sites. The name ‘Varzand’ did not occur in any of the texts I consulted, but it is a common name. The ball you possess is certainly an ancient magical artifact, perhaps created by a wizard, but as to why, I could not say. To experiment with it further may yield answers, but it may also cause harm to the one who examines it.”

Mysterious ancient artifact, or odd child's toy?

“I’m afraid this is all I have,” Norris concluded.

“Thank you,” said Ember, throwing a knowing sideways glance to Torvald, who seemed to be on the brink of speaking his mind again. The others nodded their thanks in agreement and slowly made their way out, turning all of this new information over in their minds and trying to make sense of what they just learned. Pausing just outside the entrance, they came to an agreement that Cormanthor would be their next destination, which lay in the northeast direction of Suzail.

Torvald suggested purchasing horses, knowing that a long journey on foot would impede the progress of their quest. The others agreed and proceeded to the marketplace for these and other supplies. Almost immediately Torvald was drawn to a red mare pacing in her stall, eager to be released. “I think her spirited nature will serve me well,” Torvald mused, and named her Hestia.

Hestia

Agril spotted a deep chestnut gelding that two stable attendants were attempting to back into a stall. Showing no fear of the horse’s whinnying or bucking, Agril gently reached up and held the beast’s bridle with one hand and stroked his muzzle with the other. Their eyes meet and the horse stilled almost instantly. “I’ll take this one,” he said simply, and purchased it for his own, naming it Samson.

Samson

Naivara and Ember took their time, as is the nature of elves, and each selected a mare. Naivara’s was colored entirely dark brown, brown like trees of the woodland realm she had once called home. “I will call you Shadow Feet,” she said to the horse while handing the vendor his gold.

Shadow Feet

Ember’s was pitch black with a flowing mane to match. “I shall call you Raven,” she said, admiring the way the sunlight reflected off of the horse's gleaming coat.

Raven

Their horses selected, they made their way through the rest of the market. Torvald purchased alchemy supplies and a book on the subject of poisons. “Are you planning to poison us all at supper?” Naivara teased.

“These may come in handy,” Torvald replied, indignant, but he secretly hoped that he’d be right. Ember bought a healer’s kit (which she thought was very sensible), and they all stocked up on rations. Feeling that the day had been well spent, they headed back to the Leaning Post to stable their horses and spend one last night in Suzail.

Refreshed and ready to meet what challenges lay ahead, they departed on the road called Calantar’s Way the next morning. The day was spent mostly in silence, aside from mild pleasantries exchanged with fellow travelers they met on the road. They chose to camp with another group that felt trustworthy, but took turns taking watch in the night. The second day passed much the same, and soon they arrived in the small farming town of Hilp in the late afternoon. After finding the inn and obtaining lodging for the night, Naivara asked the barkeep if he had heard about any abductions in the area. “No, I can’t say that I have,” he admitted, scratching his beard.

“We’re headed towards Wheloon,” Torvald blurted, in a rare mood to speak. The elves cast disparaging glances his way; they didn’t approve that he shared their destination with strangers. Offended, Torvald muttered under his breath, “Surely not everyone is an evil sorcerer seeking to do us harm.”

“Well, before you head to Wheloon, you may want to speak with the constable here. He may have more information about strange disappearances, but I doubt it, as not much of note happens in Hilp,” the barkeep offered, and turned back to another patron. After finding the constable, they were disappointed to find that barkeep was right; he had not heard of anything unusual or of any abductions in the area either. Taking their losses, the group dined at the inn and turned in for an early start the next morning.

A small village called Gladehap lay just off the road on the way to Wheloon. “It has a reputation for harboring skilled craftsmen that attracts a wealthy crowd,” Agril informed the group.

“A village with well-traveled nobles may be just the place to find the answers we’ve been seeking,” said Naivara. They came to the Inn of the Dancing Sword, and asked to be pointed in the direction of the smithy.

Their faces flushed with the warmth of red-hot coals as they walked into the smithy’s workshop. A heavyset man with a ruddy face and thick beard did not look up from his scrutinizing examination of an incredibly intricate sword he held in hands. “That is a beautiful sword,” Agril praised, “I have never seen its equal.” The blacksmith glanced up, the corners of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, and thanked Agril.

“May I be of service?” the blacksmith asked.

“Yes, I hope so,” Ember said. “In our travels we have come across a peculiar sword of unknown origins, and we wondered if your expert eye could assist us in identifying it.” The blacksmith gave no indication that the transparent flattery had any effect; he merely nodded and Ember gingerly removed the sword from her pack. “Do not touch it,” she cautioned. “I was not so lucky when we first discovered it. Best to leave it be.” She laid it carefully on his workbench.

After several moments of studying the sword in silence, the blacksmith shook his head in puzzlement. “This sword does indeed appear to be well-crafted, so much so that I do not recall ever seeing one to match it. I cannot say if it was man, dwarf, or elf who created it. The eye on its hilt is also odd; I have never laid eyes on such a symbol before. It would not be surprised to learn that it was crafted by a mage, who may have also imbued magic into it. To know that for sure would require me to handle it.” He looked questioningly at Ember, his statement clearly a question.

“No need,” Ember said. “We would not want you to come to harm after you have been so kind to help us. Thank you.” She packed the sword away again and shrugged at her companions. They were no closer to discovering the purpose, or nature, of the sword. Perhaps the answer would reveal itself in time. “We should find someone to examine this magical sphere next,” Ember suggested as they left the smithy.

“I believe we passed a shop that sells oddities on this street a little ways back,” Naivara said. She led the group to an unassuming storefront that certainly did not appear to be the grandest of shops, but appeared well-established nonetheless. A small bell rang as they opened the door. They were greeted by the sight of small tables and shelves that held a variety of mysterious objects. At first glance the items appears to be scattered haphazardly, yet somehow, there seemed to be an order to it all.

A small woman with graying and frizzled hair materialized from a curtain behind the counter. “How may I help?” she asked, eyes moving up and down each member of the group. Her gaze lingered the longest on Torvald, as if she suspected he may break something by merely breathing in the wrong direction.

“Yes, we were wondering if you would have a look at this,” said Ember, producing the sphere from her bag.

“Ah I see,” the shopkeeper replied, grasping the ball with long, delicate fingers. She moved a few pieces here and there and two gold coins slipped out. “It certainly displays fine craftsmanship, and the workings appear to be quite intricate. I can manipulate some of these pieces to move, but as to the purpose or origin, I do not have answers. I have never seen anything like it; perhaps it manufactures gold?” she supposed. “You may want to take it someone practiced in the arcane arts. I am not a practitioner myself, and this may have its mysteries hidden by magic.” Her forehead wrinkled as she drew her brows together. “Alas, there are no such practitioners here in Gladehap, but you may be able to seek one out in Suzail, or in Sembia to the east, if you are traveling that direction.”

Deflated, Ember accepted the sphere back from the shopkeeper’s outstretched hand. “Thank you. You have been most helpful,” she said sincerely. “Would you be so kind as to point us in the direction of the apothecary?”

As the group walked out of the shop, Torvald grumbled, “I don’t know why you keep thanking everyone. None of these people have been very helpful.”

“I’m surprised you waited until we were out of earshot to say that,” Naivara said, giving him a sideways glance. “The information is helpful. We know that whoever, or whatever, made those things is not known today. They are likely part of the ancient magic that Norris described at the House of Oghma.” Torvald merely grunted in response, not wanting to admit that Naivara was right.

The apothecary’s shop was not far. Inside, rows of glass jars lined the walls, all neatly labeled with the contents. “Hello,” Naivara greeted the shopkeeper. “I wonder if you may have any healing potions available for purchase?”

“I do, but they do not come cheap,” she replied. “One is 200 gold.” Naivara shook her head. This would deplete their entire purses and then some.

“Is it possible for you to teach me healing?” Ember ventured.

“It is an ancient art that takes many years of study to accomplish,” the apothecary replied. “Indeed, my apprentice has only rudimentary skills and he has been studying for years.”

“I understand. Would you perhaps then examine this sphere that we have in our possession? We are unable to discern its purpose or origin,” Ember said.

After a few moments, the apothecary handed the sphere back. “Perhaps I am not the right person to ask. My knowledge lies more in potion-craft, not trinkets. I can say that I have never seen such an item.” Ember wasn’t surprised; a pity they had not sought out a wizard in Suzail when they had the chance. Before leaving, Torvald purchased several ingredients he learned of in his book of poisons, determined to show that it would in fact prove useful.

Twilight had just begun to cast its shadows on the streets of the city as they exited the shop. Their errands finished for the day, they began to make their way back to the inn of the Dancing Sword. As they walked, Torvald and Ember could not say what exactly it was drew their eyes, but they noticed a figure walking through the crowd. The woman was clad in a cloak, but the hood was down, so her raven hair shone and caught the last glimmers of sunlight fading from the sky. The crowded street pushed her into the group and she murmured a cursory pardon as she continued on her way. Torvald and Ember had to look twice, but her voice cast a chill of recognition deep within them.

"I thought Varzand dealt with you!"

“Was that…"Ember began. "...I think it was!” Naivara finished.

“Follow her!” Torvald exclaimed, none too softly.

The graceful agility of the elves guided Ember through the crowd as she attempted to catch up to the woman. Naivara, with the practiced skills of a thief, closed the gap between them with Agril at her side; the only member held back was Torvald, frustrated by the way people seemed to block his path at every turn.

“VARZAND!” Ember yelled, startling those around them. One man turned in her direction but she could see he posed no threat. She continued her pursuit of the woman with the raven hair. The crowd thinned and they were able to push the rest out of the way until they were finally within reach of the woman. Ember, determined to bring the chase to a halt, roughly bumped into the woman saying “Hey!”, which caused her to finally pause.

“What?” she replied, a nasty snarl twisting her face.

“You look familiar,” Ember accused.

“I’m trying to get on with my evening,” the woman said curtly before turning to leave.

“What plans?” Ember said as the group closed in.

“Dagger!” Torvald hissed to Naivara. “Give me your dagger!”

“No!” she adamantly replied, knowing that an attack now would certainly not be to their advantage.

Ember pressed on: “Varzand still hasn’t taken care of us.”

“I don’t know what that means,” the woman replied, her face a careful mask concealing any emotion.

She’s lying, Ember thought. Out loud she asked, “Are you following us?”

“No.”

“We know who you are.”

Torvald interjected, “What do you call yourself?”

“I am Alaxador Obarskyr.”

They collectively gasped. Her surname was that of the royal family – she was King Foral’s eldest daughter. How could she fit into the practice of these dark rituals? Was this the wrong woman?

Naivara regained her composure. “Tell us what you know of the Circle of Eight.”

“Nothing that would interest you,” the princess replied, eyes narrowing as if thinking.

Ember, sensing that the potential for harm was increasing with each passing moment, eased their questioning. “Oh, I think we must have you confused with someone else,” she apologized hoping the others would follow her cue.

A moment later, a sword appeared in her hand. The same sword they witnessed her wielding in the cave outside of Minroe. Alaxador raised it, seeming to consider if they were worth the trouble of dispatching. An eternity seemed to pass which was surely just only seconds. She let go of the sword allowing it to fall, instead it disappeared instead.

The group, feeling frustrated and more than a little stunned by this encounter, made their way back to the inn. As the innkeeper greeted them, Ember asked if he knew anything about the princess Alaxador. “She is said to be practiced in the arcane arts. She is seen here from time to time, acquiring rarities that cannot be found in other towns.”

“Is she known for practicing the evil arcane arts?” Torvald asked.

“She has always been a model royal: regal and very philanthropic. The people love her,” he said matter-of-factly.

Nodding, Torvald thanked the man. After a meal eaten in silence, they settled into their rooms, a palpable tension surrounding them, unsure of what might befall them in the night now that their whereabouts were known. Leaving the town after dark was not an option, though, as they would be much more vulnerable to creatures, both human and otherwise, that skulked about in the night.

Taking turns on watch eased nerves only slightly, and none slept well, least of all Torvald. Tossing in the bed too small for his muscled and bulky frame, he dreamt he was surrounded by flames. A deep, loud, omnipresent voice said, “Learn.”

Torvald's Vision

“Teach,” Torvald replied in the dream.

“Learn,” the voice only said again.

“Learn what?”

“Live.”

“Explain yourself.” Torvald’s brow furrowed in his sleep.

“Help.”

“Help what?”

“Redeem.”

“I haven’t done anything!” dream Torvald cried.

“Learn.”

“Who are you?”

“Redeem yourself.”

“How?”

“Vengeance.” The voice oddly softened a bit at this.

“Against whom?”

“Learn.”

“What do I do next?”

“Learn…to live,” the voice concluded. The flames rose and roared around Torvald in his mind. He woke with a start, jolting up in his bed drenched in sweat. It was morning.

Naivara, the last to keep watch, noticed Torvald’s shaken demeanor and asked if he was all right. “I’m fine,” he curtly replied, and Naivara shrugged and turned away. He decided not to tell the others about the dream. He was unsure of its meaning and did not care to add to the many troubles that already faced them. He looked down and realized his fists were clenched; as he opened them a ruby the size of a large pebble fell onto his sheets. It was a faceted gem, clearly crafted by someone with knowledge and skill. This, too, he decided to keep secret until he knew more.

Torvald's prize

During her watch, Ember had been fiddling with the magical sphere. She was determined to discover the secrets it held, but each of the buttons stubbornly refused to yield. And yet, she felt like she was on the edge of something, but she couldn’t say what.

#4: More Trouble with Bandits on the Road to Suzail (4/25/2021)

We wake up in Waymoot with a spring in our steps. A good night's rest sometimes is truly invigorating, and we are all ready to make the four-day journey to Suzail. Before we leave though Ember reminds us that we need to find Rosalyn to get another healing potion. She lets us know that she is not in possession of more potions, and furthermore informs us that they are quite rare. "If you happen to come across a scroll with instructions for brewing such a potion. I will pay handsomely," she tells us. With that we make our leave of the kindly shopkeep and begin our trek back through the King's Forest to the capital of Cormyr.

Our journey starts off calm and uneventful. I am perfectly happy to take a nice, peaceful, quiet walk through the woods with my friends, but Ember and Naivara quickly decide that this a great time to begin getting to know Agril better. Agril starts to tell us about his background. He tells us of The Dale Lands, a group of independent towns northeast of Cormyr that work together as a sort of confederation. Northeast of those there is an area of land, mostly controlled by Hillsfar, a very large city in the hills. This is where Agril hails from. He explains that it is constantly battling an evil organization called The Zhentarim. This group worships Bane, their only goal is to spread strife and take over territory in the area. Rather than remain there and follow in the footsteps of his cobbler father, he left with his friends...the same friends who he just found dead outside of the ruined tower.

"What about the magic arrows?" Ember excitedly asks him. Agril says he doesn't really know how he does what he does. He can sometimes do things such as make arrows magical. I finally decide to participate in the elven inquisition and ask him how he got his scars. "I was not in the military, these are simply from adventuring." "What about love??" Ember and Naivara ask with a grin at the same time. Agril gives a half smile and disappoints them by not having a story of past flames and love lost. For this I am grateful.

We find a good spot to make camp and divide watches, with Ember taking first watch, then Naivara, and lastly myself and Agril. While sitting around the fire next to Agril, I suddenly feel a sword blade press against the side of my neck. "Drop your coin purses" says a voice from behind me. With a violent quickness I elbow him and yell for the elves to wake up. Agril once again shows his combat mettle and puts an arrow right through the bandit with the sword to me. I look behind me and notice another bandit in the trees. In front of me, past Agril, is another bandit who appears substantially heartier than his compatriots. True to my nature I charge at him at full speed...and also true to my nature (as of late) I am unable to connect with my blade. As I swing the sword I am horrified and enraged to see the same mark on his hand as the people who burned my village. "DIE!!!!" I yell in a manic, almost psychotic rage. Unfortunately my anger did not find its way through my sword to his throat.

Agril is soon felled by not one, but two crossbow bolts. He is bleeding on the ground in very bad shape. Knowing that he will be of more use to Ember and Naivara, I yell to them to save Agril before coming to my aid. I am ignored by the elves who saved me that day in the woods and Ember unsuccessfully casts Firebolt while Naivara once again shows her archery prowess by hitting one of the bandits in the chest with an arrow, he is wounded badly but still stands. "I will have honor!" I yell as I miss wildly and hit a tree with my sword. I am becoming almost as enraged with myself as I am with the bandit bearing the mark on their hand. How can I be so weak in battle? I will never get revenge on these killers if I continue to fail so badly with my sword. While I silently rage Ember and Naivara are one by one killing the bandits, leaving only my large opponent. Ember fires off 3 multi colored globes that go around me and finally the last, toughest bandit is killed in a kaleidoscope of violent fury.

After the battle, I refuse to let us keep the gold found on the bodies of the bandits. "It is blood money," I say as I toss the coin purse deeper into the woods. I stare at Naivara, daring her to go claim the gold. She stares back with as much fury in her eyes. As we begin to travel, I hear the clinking of metal behind me, and refuse to turn around to see what it is, knowing that it will just enrage me again. 

We arrive in Suzail the next day after a very long night of rest to recover from our wounds. Suzail is the biggest city in Cormyr and the capital. It is encircled by a large wall and a huge gate. Suzail is also the biggest port in Cormyr. This is without question the largest city any of us have ever seen. The guards welcome us in but make sure to firmly tell us that they will not tolerate trouble. When we inquire of a place to stay we are direct to The Leaning Post, which is a few miles into the city. Upon arriving at the inn we are greeted by a half-elf who introduces himself at Tenhorn Hawklin. We acquire a pair of rooms and ask him where we can go for supplies and possibly a healing potion. "Go check with Korby at The Shady Quill, he will be able to help you." Ember asks him if there are any schools of wizardry in the area and we are told to check out The House of Oghma, a temple to the God of Knowledge. It includes a library as well. We thank Tenhorn and make our way to The Shady Quill.

We enter a dimly lit room and are greeted by a halfling man who introduces himself as Korby. We are able to purchase a pair of healing potions from him, and he buys my magical scimitar. After our dealings with Korby we make way to The House of Oghma. Naivara says to the person who greets us that we are seeking information about the eight symbols we saw in the ruined tower. Another man walks over and instructs us to follow him. After we draw them for him and tell him of the cults, the human sacrifice, and "The Circle of Eight" he says it tickles his memory. He heads back into another room and returns with a stack of books. "The symbols will take longer to research, but regarding the Circle of Eight, I found some notes, ancient and perhaps only rumors, dating back thousands of years. Surely you are aware of the death of Mystryl?" Ember replies that she is vaguely aware and we ask the man to tell us all he knows of us. He asks us to get comfy and listen closely.

"Mystryl was the Goddess of Magic. She was killed and magic was remade. The ancient kingdom of Netharil was a mageocracy. Karsus led the the Circle of Eight, a group of the eight foremost wizards in the world. The top practitioners of each magical school. When Karsus cast a spell to kill Mystryl and take her place, magic went haywire, and even stopped for a few moments. A couple of minutes later a new Mystryl was reincarnated as Mystra, and took over Mystryl's duties. Mystra put new rules on magic, banning spells of the highest difficulty, and the entire circle was presumed killed." The man also tells us that the name Varzand rings a bell, but we should come back later so he can research. "What is your name sir?" Ember asks him. "I am called Norris" he replies with a bow of the head. Ember asks him to investigate the magical metal ball she has and he says he has never seen one like it. Upon inspection, Norris is able to shift another piece in a way that Ember had previously not been able to.  We thank him and take our leave. On the way out, I step back and have a brief word with the man alone before rejoining the party.

We find a guard in the street to see if there has been any trouble lately similar to what we found in Eveningstar and Minroe. He sends us to the constabulary where we are greeted coldly and told there has been nothing like that. We sigh wearily, and head back The Leaning Post, happy to have some more information about The Circle of Eight but feeling no closer to our goal of uncovering the mystery of the cult and the abductions then we did in Waymoot.

#3: Agril and the Ruined Tower (3/21/2021)

Our return journey through The King's Forest back to Waymoot was a dreary one. The rainy weather matched our moods, and for a change Naivara and Ember were as quiet as I was. Our 4-day journey southeast to Suzail would hopefully involve some sunshine and brighter moods once the path turned towards the big city on Dragonmere. For now the three of us are simply physically and mentally fatigued from weeks of fruitless searching for answers and witnessing the needless suffering of multiple young women, however we press on.

The party arrives in Waymoot and we enter the Moon and Stars Inn around mid-afternoon. I am extremely happy to dry off by the fire and get some meat and ale in me. In spite of my desire to sit silently and eat and drink, Falken approaches us with a hearty smile. "Back already? How did business in Minroe go?" I reply with a frown and a piercing gaze "Business was business, we are no closer to our goal." Realizing that not even the elves are in the mood to chat Falken wishes us well and moves on to his table to continue his meal. 

Later that evening a young, though rugged-looking man, enters the tavern in leathers with a sword and metal bracers. Somewhat like myself he bears cuts on him indicative of a man who has seen his share of battle. His eyes and lack of smile convey a gruff demeanor not dissimilar to my own. He approaches us and flatly ask, "Are you adventurers?" Naivara and Ember simultaneously respond in the affirmative and ask him to sit down. I would be perfectly happy to sit in silence and drink with what appears to my eyes to be a kindred spirit but unfortunately it would appear he has business to discuss. He introduces himself as Agril and tells us he needs help. He and his party of adventurers were exploring the King's Forest north of Waymoot looking for the ruins of an old tower, or more specifically what treasures may lay within. Unfortunately for his group they were ambushed by orcs. Since the man is in front of us alone I surmize that all but he were either killed or captured. He confirms my suspicions and asks us if we would be able to help him rescue his party. Before Naivara has a chance to ask him for an equal share of any potential loot I respond "We can help, assuming we get an equal share of the loot--that's an equal split between our parties." Agril readily agrees to our terms and we all retire for the evening with a plan to head out in the morn. 

The morning arrives and Ember, Naivara, and myself follow Agril west into the woods. As we get further from Waymoot only Ember and Agril have any clue really where we are or how to get back to Waymoot. Immediately I begin to worry that this is the beginning of an ambush and that Agril is the leader of a band of brigands. I keep my guard up and stay close to the elves. We set camp for the night and Agril tells us we should hit the tower late tomorrow afternoon. The next morning we head deeper into the woods. I can tell by the look in Ember's eyes that at this point even she would not be able to easily get back to Waymoot. Around noon Agril stops us and tells us we are close to the ruined tower. He points out orc tracks, I had already seen these. I have a lifetime of experience fighting the orcs in battle, aside from the common tongue it is the only language I know...it makes me smile for a moment when I think to myself that I could have a conversation with an orc but not my elven companions in their native language.  We continue on but try to move a bit quieter. I am now worried about both orcs and a potential betrayal by Agril. This could get interesting.

300 yards away we see the ruins of the tower. There is a campfire at the base of the tower and once we are within range we see six orcs. In an uncharacteristic display of clumsiness Ember steps on a branch and breaks it. The orcs immediately stand up and grab their weapons. Wasting no time Naivara fires an arrow that hits one of the orcs in the arm. Both myself and Agril are unable to hit our targets when we do the same. Three of the orcs advance upon Ember and get within 50 feet of the mage. Once again Naivara continues to show great prowess in combat and hits one of the orcs advancing on Ember in the belly with an arrow, nearly felling the creature. After I miss with my crossbow yet again Ember casts Chromatic Orb and one of the orcs at the campfire is instantly eviscerated. Not to be outdone, Agril fires a his bow. As the arrow gets closer to the orcs it begins to have a strange glow. Upon striking the target it sprouts vines and thorns. Seriously wounding one orc and killing two of the remaining orcs. Clearly he has powers of which we were not aware. 

The three remaining orcs are now together and I am able to kill the wounded one with a crushing blow from my long sword. One of the orcs then charges Ember. I leap between them but the orc is still able to slash her and draw blood. At this point the party, Agril, and the two remaining orcs are engaged in furious melee combat with blood spilling everywhere. Ember is able to slice the throat of one of the orcs and I kill the other one. I smile upon ending the life of the final orc, happy to put weeks of rustiness with my sword behind me.

After each of us collect 10 gold pieces from the dead bodies of the orcs we make camp and sleep for the evening. Before we lay our heads down Agril solemnly declares that these were the same orcs who ambushed his group of adventurers. The more time I spend with him the less I suspect him of being a threat. This means that either he truly is a kindred spirit or my age and the stress of the last few weeks are beginning to dull my senses and make me let my guard down when I ought not to. We go to sleep, ready to explore the ruined tower the next morning and hopefully rescue Agril's friends. 

The next morning we rise bright and early and enter the tower. The room is about 30 feet in diameter with stairs going up and down the outside wall. I am surprised that the stairs go up counter-clockwise, a design feature that would give a right-handed fighter an advantage if he were trying to go up the stairs. Perhaps this was build by a left-handed fighter. We decide to start by heading down the stairs. We see remainders of beds down there. "Do you notice something off about the stone work on the wall?" Naivara asks? " I notice something strange also, but I can't make it out" I respond. Naivara runs her hand along the wall and a secret door is revealed! We see before us a long, dark passageway. Ember uses her magic to illuminate the passage and we see 120 feet of straight tunnel that moves down at a very gradual slope. After some deliberation we decide to enter the tunnel.

After a few hours spent traveling down the tunnel we come to a massive room. I enter first and see torches on each wall. The eight torches come to life magically to reveal an octagonal room 50 feet long on each side and about 20 feet high. There is an altar in the middle of the room. Immediately our party exchanges excited, nervous looks. Once again we are greeted by a mysterious altar, however this time no cultists are around. Upon the altar lays an old leather bound book. There is also a longsword. We see an eye symbol in the handle of the sword and both Ember and myself are fairly certain it is the same as the one in the sword held by the villainess in the mine of Minroe. Ember picks up the book and casts Detect Magic. She determines that it is a spell book. When she picks up the sword, she immediately winces in pain. Merely handling the sword must be dangerous. One the pain subsides, she is able to sense a great evil, and is sure that this sword has a will of its own. She wraps the sword in a cloak and stores it in her pack.

When we explore the room we notice there is a symbol atop each wall. The symbols do not seem to mean anything to anyone. However, the grey and white one is almost identical to the symbol we saw at the altar in the mine of Minroe. There are also Elvish carvings in the walls that we cannot make out. Under the purple symbol on one of the walls there's an ornate circle about 10 feet wide with markings both inside of and around it. Ember is certain that it is some sort of a teleportation circle. I am not a mage but even this gruff fighter is getting nervous being in this room. It feels like the heart of something quite evil. I feel the same way I did when I was in the rooms with the altars at the Haunted Halls and the mine of Minroe, only the strength of the evil seems greater to me. We decide to leave the room and head back up the tunnel.

When we get back to the chamber I close the door to the tunnel. We go up the stairs to the room into which we entered the tower and start making our way further up the tower. The second floor is totally ransacked, and there is nothing there. Neither bodies, nor anything of value is on this floor. When we get to the third floor we are once again greeted by a messy, ransacked room. "This room was designed for magic use," Ember confidently exclaims. I find a loose floor board and pry it open --we all fall to the floor when fire explodes upward--a trap. At this point we agree it is a good idea to leave the ruined tower.

We walk around the base of the tower and see tracks leading away. At this point we find the bodies of several dead men. My suspicions are immediately confirmed when I see Agril shake his head and frown. "I was too late. Let us burn the bodies and make our way back to town." Upon arriving in Waymoot we immediately head for The Moon and Stars. When I look at Agril, I am somewhat angry with myself for doubting him earlier. The man bears the heart of a warrior, not to mention the scars of one. He could have easily left his party for dead, yet he went back for them. I am certain this was motivated less by the treasure that may have awaited him then by his desire to help his friends. "I am sorry for your loss Agril. I too have experienced much pain. Now that you are alone why not join us until you figure out where the road will take you next?" Agril replies "I will think this over Torvald. For today though my thoughts are with my friends." We all continue to share a few drinks when Agril asks us about the sword and why we seemed to recognized it. Naivara tells him all about the sword and the symbol in the pommel. "That sword should have been left behind. It is evil" I say in a gruff fashion. "There are no evil swords, only evil people," Agril says. We continue to drink and then head for bed. Ember lets us know she will begin studying the spellbook by candle light in her and Naivara's room. I lay my head down in my room and am asleep within minutes.

The three of us head downstairs for the morning to eat breakfast. Before us we see Agril sitting at a table with no food or drink in front of him. "I was waiting for you party before I ate. I try not to be rude when I can." I smile at him and the elves as we all sit down for breakfast. We fill Agril in on all the details of the previous few weeks when he indicates to us that he has no plans for quite some time and desires to stay with us for the foreseeable future. After eating we pack up our belongings and the now party of four depart the Moon and Stars for Suzail.

#2: Through the King's Forest to Minroe (2/28/2021)

When we found ourselves back in the Lonesome Tankerd after our somber journey back from The Haunted Halls. I couldn't really bring myself to meet Lord Tesseral's gaze at first. I could see how much she was hurt by the loss of the young woman, and the other four who had been abducted and murdered in a similar fashion prior to our unwanted intrusion on the cult festivities. Even in normal circumstances I am loathe to lead the conversation and defer to Ember and Naivara, but especially now I lean on the strength of my Elven companions to get me through the difficult meeting with Lord Tesseral. She mentions that she has heard of additional abductions in Minroe, a long trek through The King's Forest. We decide that we will head there in search of answers and share a pleasant meal with Lord Tesseral before we retire for the evening to our rooms.

The next morning arrives and as we are eating breakfast Lord Tesseral approaches. "I'm glad I caught you before you left. Here is something that might interest you, I cannot discern its purpose, can you?" She proceeds to hand Ember a grapefruit sized spherical object made of metal with bands around it. It appears that some pieces are clearly designed to be moved. Ember casts Detect Magic and discovers it is a magical item from the school of enchantment. Whilst playing with the object four coins come out and Ember smiles. She may not know the exact purpose yet but so far it has been a fruitful acquisition.

We take our leave of Eveningstar and begin our journey south along the Starwater Road. Our first stop will be the town of Dhedluk, about three days travel. It is a serene early Spring morning and the enormous trees of the massive ancient forest beckon me today. We won't actually get to the King's Forest until about halfway through the second day of travel, and it couldn't arrive soon enough for me. I always find peace in the woods, I may not be attuned to them the way my Elven friends are, but I've found solace in their verdant sanctum many times in my life, a life too often defined by tragedies like the one witnessed the previous day. "In spite of all the problems I ran into at home, I still miss the woods dearly" Naivara said softly to Ember, mercifully derailing me from my dark train of thought. "Yes, I too feel most comfortable here" Ember replies. We continue along the trail and spend an uneventful night camping under the stars as we prepare to enter the ancient forest the next day.

After rising we make our way further along the trail. Our morning was spent walking at a moderate pace. I was feeling increasingly at peace as we got closer to the woods, and I was happy when around noon we finally reached The King's Forest. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" I say to no one in particular. "It most certainly is, you know this used to be the home of many Elves, they are all gone now though" explained Naivara. The three of us all seemed to appreciate the quiet of the woods, sporadically colored by the sounds of woodland critters. I'm not sure any of us really know what our goal is since we started adventuring together, I just know I am glad to have Ember and Naivara around, especially on a several-hundred mile journey through The King's Forest, where no giant is as tall or mighty as the ancient trees themselves.

On the third day it began to rain, and as our increasing discomfort with the cold, wet conditions was only matched by the growing darkness that made it difficult for me to even see. Ember and Naivara of course were not troubled by this at all, being elves they can see in the dark as if it were the moon light. We didn't run into any thing of note on this day, I think it was one of those situations where everyone was so uncomfortable that we all simply silently focused on being agitated by the weather and trudging slowly along to Dhedluk. We encamped for the night but I found myself restless and unable to sleep, my previous love of the forest not completely forgotten with her leaving the sunlight. Several times when I awoke I looked over and noticed Ember awake as well, the weather didn't seem to bother Naivara though, or at least it didn't prevent her from sleeping. I just wanted to get dry and eat a good meal.

Our fourth day of travel began with an unseasonably hot sun to make the last leg of travel to Dhedluk more enjoyable than the misery of yesterday. We arrive mid day at our destination. Dhedluk is a small town surrounded by a stockade, it is a gorgeous farming town known for the wood carving skills of its residents. They are not used to adventurers passing through and we are the recipients of many sideways glances. Ember approaches a man and asks him where we might get a bite to eat and stay the night. "The Blushing Maiden Inn is the place you are looking for. It's run by Lord Thombir, who is also leader of our town. Best meal around and comfy lodgings for travelers...such as yourself." The man paused a bit at the end of his glowing review of The Blushing Maiden Inn, it seemed to us that he perhaps wasn't sure if it was perfect for travelers such as us because he so rarely encountered a party such as ours. Be that is it may Ember thanks him for the advice and we head to the inn. 

"What can we do for you?" says a man who we can only assume to be Lord Thombir. I can tell he is not overly excited to see us in The Blushing Maiden, as the tone of his greeting conveys a certain uncomfortableness with our party. I decide to lean right into his suspicions that we are not ordinary travelers by asking him if anything out of the ordinary has been going on recently. "I take it you are adventurers" he declares without answering my question. We respond in the affirmative and he curtly tells us not to overstay our welcome. We rent 2 rooms and replenish our ammunition before retiring for the evening. We leave Dhedluk the next morning and so our ends our uneventful, short stay.

It's a cool, clear day on the road to Waymoot along the Ranger's Way. The road through The King's Forest gets less safe the further one gets into the woods and we maintain extra vigilance on our travels. The only other creatures we encounter are a few deer on this day and we make camp with rotating watch as usual. On the sixth day after leaving Eveningstar we awaken to another beautiful day for travel. Only a few hours from Waymoot we run into a man in dark green leather armed with bow and arrow holding a brace of rabbits. I instinctively place my hand on my sword in case he presents trouble as Ember and Naivara shout out a greeting to him. "Hail fellow traveler. Any trouble in the woods these days?" Naivara, as glib as I am reticent, cuts right to the point with the stranger. "I wouldn't know, that's the council's business." he replies. He further introduces himself as Taran, a hunter and trader of animal pelts. He explains to us that Waymoot has a large population of former soldiers and the council that runs the village is comprised of retired military officers. He graciously lets us know that a trip to The Moon and Stars Tavern should be enough to find a member of the council to whom we can direct our questions. We continue to head for Waymoot with our new companion and wish him well after entering the gates of the town before we make our way for the inn.

A man named Telandro greets us with a hearty salutations as we enter The Moon & Stars. The reception we are given by this man is markedly more friendly than that which we got from Lord Thombir in Dhedluk. After sharing pleasantries Ember and Naivara tell him we have business we would like to discuss with the council. "Ahhh you need rooms" he proclaims, completely sure he will be doing business with us and smiling. We tell him we would like 2 rooms as is custom, one for the ladies and one for me, and when he asks us for 10 gold per room we immediately balk. "This is the finest inn in the land and you will be most satisfied." We agree to terms and then Ember once again asks him about the council. "The one you seek is Falken, he sits on the council, though at present he sits in the corner right over there."

We walk over to the corner of the dining room and Falken immediately invites us to sit down. "We are travelers on a quest to aid the people of Eveningstar with some troubles they've been having as of late. You'd help us greatly with our quest if you let us know of anything unusual here in Waymoot," Naivara says to Falken hoping to finally get some help on the road to Minroe. "Nothing unusual here. We are retired military officers who like the quiet life. Not only that, unusual is such a vague word. What exactly do you mean?" he asks Naivara. I quickly grow weary of the soft, old, retired officer and I ask him if anyone new has passed through town. "Other than you?" Falken responds with a grin. I turn to Naivara and tell her to just tell the man about the abductions. "What abductions?" Falken says as he straightens up in his seat, suddenly more attentive to our quest. We tell him about all that has taken place in Eveningstar and again ask him for assistance. He essentially makes it clear that they prefer to have no trouble in Waymoot, and they can offer us no help. Telandro does however mention that he has heard of problems in Minroe lately. I see nothing in front of me but a soft, weak man who has no desire to fight the evils of this world. Not a soldier at all, and certainly not an officer who should lead men into battle. Falken sends us to Rosalyn's General Store when we ask him if he knows where we could find a healing kit and we bid him good day.

After acquiring a healing potion got a princely sum at the general store we return for an uneventful night's rest at The Moon and Stars. We rise early the next morning and as we are leaving town a few people outfitted like soldiers begin to walk with us. Upon learning they are traveling to Espar we agree to travel with them for the the first 2 days of our 4 day journey when our paths will split. Our first day on the way to Minroe passes with ease and we make camp for the night and rotate watches as usual. On the 8th day since leaving Eveningstar conversation begins with our two companions. We learn they are brothers named Tegen and Semil heading to Espar to see their sister. Tegen and Semil are also quite familiar with The King's Forest and tell us where to find the turn off to get to Minroe, it is not a real road and more of a path through the woods. The next morning we party ways and begin the final leg of our journey through the ancient woods.

The party does not get very far on our first day off the road. It is much slower going through the woods on this unfinished path. It is also much less safe according to our friends Tefen and Semil. We are extremely alert as we make our way south west and we camp for the night making sure to keep vigilant watch.

The party is alarmed when rising we find ourselves in complete darkness. Massive storms are brewing and it is difficult for me to see. "Drop your gold and be gone!" I hear from somewhere off in the distance. I reach for my sword and call out to the unseen marauder. "That best be the last we hear from you for your sake!" Even in the darkness I am able to see a man about 25 feet ahead of me and I race towards him at full speed and for the first time in what seems like ages I am able to land a vicious sword strike at my opponent. This turn of good combat fortune does not go unchallenged however as the bandit cuts my left side badly in return. Once again Naivara's prowess in these situations comes through and an arrow from her bow cuts through the brazen bandit's throat and he slumps to the ground.

Unsure wether or not the dead bandit is alone, Ember casts Fog around us to hide our position. Almost immediately after the wizard enshrouds us several crossbow bolts come flying through the mist. I look at Naivara as she moves outside the cloud and she calls out to us that there are two more bandits. After Naivara's arrow fails to connect, Ember casts firebolt which hits one of the bandits in the chest without felling him. Fortunately my crossbow bolt strikes his companion in the belly. At this a third bandit reveals himself behind us and looses an errant arrow. "Return to the fog Ember!" I yell to my companion. "You will not be able to help us in melee with these goons." While Ember stays safe in the fog Naivara and I are able to dispense with the two wounded thieves and their friend. As I stand over one of the dead criminals I feel my skin crawl: the purple sunburst. The skull. This man wears the mark of the men who destroyed my village. I enter into a state of irrational rage and scream into the darkness.

"I told you when we met that day in the woods that one day I would kill the men who burned my village, the men who took everything from me!" I yell to Naivara and Ember as we continue on to Minroe. "You mean the day we saved your life. The day when your blind rage at your enemies led you to tackle a group of enemies you had no chance to match." Ember forcefully responds. The purple sunburst with the skull in the middle is the symbol of the god Cyric, the deity of murder, lies, trickery and conflict. The god of evil. "Anyone who follows him must die." I say to no one in particular as I stare dead ahead, lost in the smoke and ashes of a village and a time gone by.

We arrive in Minroe that afternoon. We encounter a man at the gates who in the course of conversation gives us an unsolicited history of his town. We learn that Minroe was a gem mining town long ago. The gem mines ran out and the town consequently suffered. Fortunately for the people of Minroe new mines were recently discovered. We let him know we are exhausted and seek lodging. The old man points us to the Fancy Tree Inn. A woman named Arkalis greets us and asks us what we need. Naivara, Ember and myself are in no mood to gather information on this night and we acquire rooms and immediately head to sleep, our long journey through The King's Forest finally complete.

The next morning we rise and find Arkalis. When we ask her if the town was experiencing any trouble as of late we hear a story eerily similar to that which we found in Eveningstar. Arkalis blames it on the new mine. "How is a mine responsible for kidnapping?" I ask her matter of factly. "That mine is haunted. There are ghosts there and other abominations. Five or six young women have been abducted recently and I know it has to do with that mine." "Is there someone who can help us learn more about this?" Naivara asks the innkeeper. "Go see Arelor, she is the governor.

We find the governor on the other side of the dining hall enjoying her breakfast. She is half-Elf and greets us with a warm smile. When we ask her about the abductions she tells us that Minroe simply does not have the manpower to handle something like this. Some tried to explore the mines but never returned. The party decides to let Arelor in on everything that happened in Eveningstar and The Haunted Halls. Arelor says she hasn't seen anything like that here. Arelor gives us directions to the mine, it is about a half-day out from town and she tells us it is mostly flooded. We thank Arelor and sit down for a quiet breakfast with the kind governor before heading for the mine.

On this day it is raining and storming. We make it to the mine by mid-day and begin our descent underground. About 100 feet into the mine we see a door leading to a room on our right. The door is open so we head in. Upon passing through the doorway we are all immediately charmed and find it impossible to move. In front of us is an Elven woman holding a dagger above a young woman on a makeshift altar. To our horror we see yet another maiden murdered in cold blood. The blood of dead girl goes into a bowl and the Elven cultist casts some sort of spell. Upon the conclusion of the spell, a long sword materializes. I notice there is an eye in the pommel looking around. Alive. She immediately cuts down the men helping her. The blade immediately kills the men, their eyes becoming blackened and leaking smoke. The woman looks up at us. "I didn't expect to see you here. I thought Varzand took care of you. I'll take it up with Roland and the Eight." She then disappears into a point of light similar to the cult leader in The Haunted Halls, who I now assume was Varzand. We notice two people in the room into which she disappeared, and though a window; water.

After coming out of the charm we investigate the altar. I notice a circle on the altar with three other circles inside of it, it looks like an eye. Ember tells us it is possible the Elven cultist was referring to the mysterious Circle of Eight when she mentioned "The Eight". This was a council of the 8 best wizards in the world, representing the eight schools of magic. Ember tells us even kings don't know who they are, where they live, or if they are good or evil...or indifferent. For that matter it is unknown if it even truly exists. We decide to head back to Minroe and arrive by evening. We tell the governor what happened and she is sorry to tell us she does not know anything about the circle symbol or the Eight. The four of us share a few drinks and grieve the loss of yet another innocent life. "I suppose now we must head for Suzail." I say with a tired voice to Ember and Naivara. My Elvish companions agree and we retire for the evening, deeply dissatisfied with results of our hard journey through The King's Forest to Minroe.

#1: There Have Been Abductions Lately (1/31/21)

It was a crisp, early Spring morning in the farming town of Eveningstar. Though it is a small town of only 400 to 500 people, it was quite prosperous due to its location at the crossroads of The High Road and Suzail Road. The scenery around this small but wealthy town was breathtaking, what with it being at the base of the eastern Stormhorn Mountains to the north and with the gargantuan and ancient King's Forest to the south. Aside from the beautiful views and the wealth of its small population of farmers, this was not much different from the many other farming towns that dot the landscape of Corymyr. The arrival of three strangers in town that morning caused many raised eye brows at the Lonesome Tankard Tap Room and Inn, a place that didn't see too many people like the three adventurers eating breakfast at a table in the corner.

Ember brushed a a few crumbs of stinky cheese off of her gray robes. Naivara drank a glass of water as if she had just traversed a desert. The two elves were different in many ways though they were both strong women who had seen many trials and tribulations in their years. Ember's fiery red hair and grey robes stood out about as much as the large wizard's staff she had resting against the wall. Eveningstar was not a town that attracted many magical types. Naivara kept a close eye on the few patrons in the room eating that day, for her many recent troubles made her perhaps too alert to the possibility of danger, perhaps sensing it where there was none. Wood elves are always alert, but Naivara prided herself on never letting anyone get the jump on her, something she considered essential to the thief's trade. Their companion Torvald paid no attention to anyone else in the room, including the two elves. He was battle hardened enough to know when danger was afoot, and he sensed none in this high-end tap room. He simply ate his plate of sausages, bacon, ham, and a single piece of fruit and enjoyed the quiet of the meal, as he was never one for superfluous conversation, which is why he let out an audible sigh when a wizardly woman approached their table to strike up conversation.

"Would ye mind if I sat down?" asked the beautiful woman standing at their table. Ember greeted her and bade her to sit. "I am Lord Tesseral Winter, ruler of Eveningstar. You three aren't from here, are you?" Torvald lifted his head and began to speak but was immediately and instinctively cut off by Naivara, who quickly learned when Torvald was about to be cross with a stranger, which was almost always. "We are travelers on our way south, what is on your mind Lord Tesseral?" She began to tell them about a series of abductions that had been occurring in the town recently. Since Eveningstar's population of adventurers, warriors, and wizards was exceptionally low she was hoping that perhaps Ember, Naivara, and Torvald could be of some assistance in helping uncover the mystery of these recent troubles. "What's in it for us?" Naivara said with a grin. Taken aback Lord Tesseral offered them 100 gold pieces and maybe more to save any abducted townsfolk. "Who has been abducted?" asked Ember. "Some men, some women, but mostly younger women. This quiet farming community has never had troubles with anyone and we like to keep it that way. Would you help us?" After conversing amongst themselves our adventurers decided to take on the mission to the Haunted Halls, where Lord Tesseral Winter said she suspected there could be some answers. The three decided since it was early they would finish eating and head north west immediately.

The trail to The Haunted Halls meandered north west along a gorge. It was about 30 miles from Evening Star to their destination. Ember, Naivara, and Torvald started walking along the river when around noon-time Naivara heard a growling and scratching in the distance. She continued walking and ignored it for a bit when with a piercing screech a large, bear-sized creature with feathers and the face of an owl appeared about 50 years away with blood dripping from its maw. The fierce monster stared at the party as they slowly backed away hoping to avoid angering the creature. It watched them for a minute and then returned to its meal. As evening approached the party set up camp for the night, only about a half-day away from their destination. A watch rotation was agreed upon and the night was uneventful. All three party members were confident this was be an easy mission and a fine treasure to boot. They fell asleep soundly and were eager to rise again and continue along the trail.

After waking up the party continued their march towards The Haunted Halls. They arrived at two large cracks in the gorge and went into the north crack as Lord Tesseral Winter had indicated. the crack was clearly man-made and was about 10 feet wide. The party came upon a pair lichen covered doors and entered. They moved softly (with Torvald the warrior inadvertently doing everything he could to sabotage the efforts of the elves to remain quiet) and entered a dimly lit room. On either side of a doorway straight ahead was a skeleton in tattered leather armor holding a sword. Naivara suddenly has the urge to check the walls for secret doors. Though she was able to determine there was most likely a hidden door, her and Ember collectively could not ascertain the trigger. "Hello Sir!" Ember jokingly said to one of the skeletons when to her surprise both began to come to life. Springing to action Naivara shot an arrow at one of the skeletons and easily knocked its head clean off and it once again fell to the ground. Sensing the danger his wizard companion was still in being so close to the other skeleton Torvald charged at the undead foe and cut off its non-sword arm with a swing of his long sword. Ember haplessly missed the skeleton with her staff to which the skeleton responded with a swing of his own sword. Torvald attempted to stand between them to no avail and Ember felt the sword stab into her. Thankfully Naivara's bow work once again was on point as she landed another head shot causing the second skeleton to de-animate and fall to the floor. 

After collecting themselves for a moment the party walked through the door. Ember immediately put her arm in front of Torvald and Naivara and hushed them. She whispered that she could hear something coming from the hallway to the left. They stealthily moved down the hall and now all three could hear an unknown language in a room about 10 feet down the hall. They looked into the room and saw what used to be quarters, there were broken beds and old chests. There were also three creatures in front of a make shift altar. One of the creatures was facing Torvald as he led the way into the room and held a jagged dagger. The chanting stopped and the creature with the dagger looked at the party with an evil grin. It was a human male wearing blood-red plate armor and a black hooded cloak. "Can I help you?" he asked in a sinister way. The other two men in the room were wearing masks and standing at the armored man's side. "We were just exploring and heard voices," said Ember, ever level-headed and even tempered. "You are liars!" exclaimed the man in the blood-red armor. "What are you three doing here?" inquired Ember. The man then held a dagger to the throat of a young woman on the altar and demanded the party leave or she would die. Torvald was becoming increasingly agitated as he knew there was only one way this was going to end regardless of the actions of the party, and he was proven right when the man in the blood-red armor drew his dagger across the young woman's throat, ending her life in the flower of her youth, right after Ember asked him why she must die. 

Riddled with righteous rage Ember loosed a firebolt at the murderer and missed. Torvald followed with a shot from his crossbow and managed to hit him in the shoulder between two plates of armor. At that the evil man extended his arm and made a fist. He raised his arm as if pulling some up, and two skeletons animated from the ground. Immediately a skeleton moved on Torvald. One of the cultists next to the apparent leader unsheathed a scimitar as Naivara hit him with an arrow to the stomach. Torvald turned to the two elves and angrily said, "pity the arrow was loosed after the throat was slashed." Ember in turn unleashed a magical bolt of lightning at one of the scimitar wielding cultists and hit him directly in the chest, nearly killing him. Torvald turned to a skeleton and proceeded to swing his sword with the fury of all his years of battle and severed the spine of the foul creature and it immediately fell apart. At this point the cult leader looked at Torvald and the elves and smiled "This has been fun, but I'll see you another time." A pin prick of light appeared and opened into a doorway into which he disappeared along with the door itself as the light went out. The party had no time to consider the extreme oddity of what they'd just seen, for they still found themselves in combat with two scimitar wielding cult members and an undead skeleton.

The two cult members looked at each other panicked and unsure what to do without their leader. It is possible even they were unaware he held such power. They were shaken out of their stupefied gazes when Naivara shot an arrow towards them, which missed wildly and hit the wall behind them. Her unusual lack of accuracy was punished by a slashing cut to the arm from one of the cultists. Ember momentarily forgot her lack of melee combat abilities and ran to her injured friend with noteworthy courage. She proceeded to run right up to the cultist and try to push him into the fire, totally ignoring the difference in weaponry and strength. Torvald then swung his sword at a skeleton and missed badly, to which that skeleton responded with a punishing cut to Torvald's chest. As each member of the party continued to miss on one attack after another their situation grew perilous. In the raging melee Naivara finally managed to kill one of the cultists with a forceful stab of her rapier into his chest. Torvald was once again cut badly, this time in the chest as the other cultist began to fight like someone afraid for his life now that it was just him and one of the skeletons. Ember too was now hurt badly as she was wounded by one of the skeletons. As Naivara swung her rapier with all her might at the remaining skeleton she cut right through his spine and the skeleton fell to the ground. She looked at her two mortally wounded companions and swung her rapier once more, this time at the last cultist, knocking him out and saving the party from tragic doom in the Haunted Halls.

After tying up the cultist the party rested for the night to regain their strength. After rising Torvald looked at the cultist and told him about the large owl-faced monster they had seen on the way to the Haunted Halls. He then told the cultist the party would feed him to the monster if he didn't explain the abductions and the meaning of the ritual they were conducting. The terrified cultist tells the group that their leader forced them to conduct the ritual and that five people had been abducted and killed thus far. At that moment the group reflected on the fact that when they saw the cult leader disappearing into the light doorway, he was going into a nicely furnished, stately room, not at all like the dingy room in the ruins of the Haunted Halls. The cultist then told the party that his name was Bram and that their leader had promised him wealth and power one night when he was drinking at The Old Man's Face inn in Tyrluck. The party headed back to Eveningstar and had an uneventful two days trip. Naivara entered town alone and found Lord Tesseral and told her of their adventure. Torvald and Ember then brought Bram to the small town jail. Lord Tesseral was visibly shaken by the body of the young woman, deeply moved by the murder of such a lovely young woman that she felt personally responsible for, as she did for all the denizens of Eveningstar. Torvald looked at Lord Tesseral and asked her if there have been any abductions anywhere else lately. "Minroe to southeast and perhaps Suzail further south on the Dragonmere. The party decides to head for Minroe all the way on the other end of the ancient King's Forest. The party agrees to spend the night at the inn and get some rest before the long trip, for on this day they had nearly perished in The Haunted Halls.