Fireshear is a mining town situated atop a cliff that
overlooks the Sea of Swords. There is a
series of wooden stairs and platforms that lead up from the shore to the city,
ramps designed to handle both foot traffic and cargo. The main exports of Fireshear are copper and
silver; its population is predominately human, though several halflings and
dwarves can be seen about town. There is
no proper public house or inn—instead, parties seeking accommodations usually
contract guest houses designed to fulfill the need for such services, usually
for merchant groups or caravans passing through to destinations further north. There
are, however, multiple taverns where food and drink can be found.
As we begin unloading Moonmaiden, we see Revenant step
from the ship to go and meet his contacts in Fireshear. We spend most of our
day of arrival in toil, as we carry bodies of the deceased from our ship, heavy,
waterlogged sacks containing our grisly cargo that leak blood and sea
water. The cliffs reach a height of
nearly 100 feet, and we work hard to transport the fallen crew members, laying
the sacks side by side in rows while a large pyre is constructed.
The crew that survived is in poor shape—while we healed
those in direst need of our magic, many were either beyond our
ability to heal or bear wounds that exceeded our meagre talents. Severed limbs, men with limps, all survivors
of our dire voyage stand gathered; Captain Azurris stands before all and raises
his voice to deliver a speech.
“Today, we honor those who fell in battle aboard Our Fair
Ship, Moonmaiden. They fought bravely,
to the one, and on this night, we forge a promise to hold their names forever
in the depths of our souls, for they died so we could live.” Captain Azurris then begins to read the names
the fallen one by one, slowly. After the
first name read—Zargon of Dagger’s Deep, I hear nothing else, overcome with
loss, and only regain my bearings when Captain Azurris finishes his litany, and
pauses for the gravity of the toll to sink in.
The Captain steps to the pyre with a burning brand and
sets it to the pyre—the conflagration is instant, and the heat of the roaring
flame does little to allay the sullen chill that has grasped all gathered. A few weep openly for comrades lost,
others stand in solemn silence as the fallen are consumed.
“To those of you who stand before me now,” he continues,
“your obligation to Moonmaiden is fulfilled.
Throughout the coming season, the ship is yours to call home, for the
purpose of lodging and shelter. Her food
stores are committed to Captain and Crew, but these will last but more than a
fortnight. Thereafter, your provisions
are yours to supply.
“When Moonmaiden is ready again to make sail, any who
wish passage to the next destination shall have room aboard Our Fair Ship, in
addition to sustenance and quarter for the duration of the voyage.”
When the flames of the pyre have burned low, and when
those gathered begin to depart for alehouses or other places of sanctuary
within Fireshear, we are approached by a familiar pair, the Tunterhorn brothers Arcon and Raganok. I am glad for this,
for I meant to seek them out on my own.
The brothers share that they owe us a life debt for pulling one of them from the brink of death during the battle at Illusk.
“Is it your plan to seek work here? What are your plans for the immediate
future?” I ask them. The brothers respond
that they intend to find work as guards or miners. I offer them a fare wage for service as our
personal bodyguards, explaining that we’re in a rough land and might have use
of stalwart and trustworthy men to watch our backs. A miner’s wage in Fireshear could be as much
as 25 or even 50 gold pieces for a month of work; with Dame’s departure window
still in question due to repairs and harsh conditions on the sea, I offer them
terms of 50 gold pieces for the pair of brothers per month for guard service, and
an equal share of any more dangerous endeavor, should they choose to join us. The brothers are amenable to the offer, and we
clasp arms to seal the deal.
When that business is concluded, Bonie points out
something she noticed during Captain Azurris’ speech. One of the names he read did not match what
we remember from the roster—Angeline Azurris.
We surely would have made the connection had it been listed that way in
the roster, and from our memory, we don’t recall anyone of relation to Captain
Azurris being aboard and decide to address the matter with him later.
Audric asks of our plans for the coming weeks. “For now, for the extent of this season at
least, Fireshear will be our home,” I reply, eager to learn more about our new
surroundings and this new opportunity. Over
the next three days, Lom spends time in training, and we spend our time
investigating, learning what we can about Fireshear and the hardy folk that
call it home. In Fireshear, mining rules
all—not all that different from Mirabar—but the environment this far north,
across the sea, is vastly different.
There are trails that lead from Fireshear deeper into Icewind Dale
itself, several hundred miles of arduous journey that isn’t safe in any
season. Bryn Shander and Ironmaster are
towns to the north that I know to lie upon these trails, and trafficking goods to these remote settlements is a steady source of work for groups such as ours.
One of the taverns, The Singing Manticore, draws our
interest, with crowds that
number in the hundreds, and it seems that it is where many business deals are
conducted. We make it our haunt, trying to ascertain the various factions and noteworthy residents. After a few nights, we are approached by
an older man—perhaps in his fifties—and it seems clear that he has business
with us. Our reputation, it seems, has
preceded us.
“Fine evening we’re having,” he says in greeting. His hair is long and gray, unkempt, and he
has a white beard and wears a common robe beneath which bulges a backpack full
of gear. Introductions are made, the
conversation led by Audric, and the older man introduces himself as Vonn
Wintershade. “I would surmise that you
are seasoned adventurers,” he says, and asks what our business was aboard the
ship. Disbelieving that he doesn’t
already know, we state simply that we were guards, but Vonn
knows the deception for what it is, confirming that our reputation is well
known.
Vonn lives a full day’s ride from Fireshear, some 40
miles or more remote from town, in an old stronghold with his “master,”
Berigaard. Vonn explains that he is an
apprentice wizard, which catches my attention.
Vonn further explains that he often comes to Fireshear to fetch goods
for Berigaard. Vonn has been in
Fireshear for an extended period this particular trip, as Berigaard asked for
privacy for several weeks, his expenses paid by his master, to conduct research
in some arcane matters. Upon Vonn’s
return to the keep, however, he found the stronghold empty and Berigaard
missing. Vonn’s money has run out and
his stay at one of Fireshear’s guest houses is over, and thus he has come to us
seeking aid.
Berigaard is a transplant from Neverwinter, having
arrived over a year ago, about the same time that he met Vonn. They traveled together to the stronghold with
a pair of hired men, and together they slew a frost giant that had taken up
residence in the keep, seizing it for their own.
For months thereafter, they cleansed that land surrounding of other
threats—goblins, mostly—and claimed the keep to conduct their studies. Berigaard’s purpose in traveling north was to
seek isolation to further hone his arcane craft.
I ask Vonn what his involvement was in the slaying of
such a mighty foe, and Vonn explains that he was but an apprentice at the time
and assisted only little—Berigaard did most of the arcane work. I ask what types of magic may have been
brought to bear against such a foe, and Vonn explains that various conjurations
and bolts of energy were used to weaken the creature so that the guards could
slay it. The answer is cryptic, but it
is common among mages to keep the extent of one’s knowledge of the craft secret,
so I inquire no more. When asked
about his past, Vonn claims that he hails from a fishing village farther north
in Icewind Dale—when pressed on his knowledge of the region, he provides
satisfactory answers to quell any suspicions.
“As apprentice, do you know what manner of protections,
specifically those of an arcane nature, would be in place in your master’s
absence?” The keep, Vonn explains, has
defenses purely mundane—walls, a locked gate, but no magical protections of which Vonn knows. Vonn explains that while
he has been a practitioner for several decades, he remains but a novice in the
Art—we are reminded of Renwal of Dagger’s Deep, and don’t think much of the
disparity between age and ability.
Audric asks what he found when Vonn returned to the keep—Vonn
explains that the keep was barred from the inside and thus he was not able to gain
entry. He waited outside the keep for
two days, exposed to the elements and running out of provisions, before
returning to Fireshear to seek help.
“What makes you think we can get in?” Audric asks.
“What makes me think you can get in?” Vonn replies
incredulously. “I’ve heard stories told
of your voyage aboard Moonmaiden.”
Finding ourselves at loose ends, we come to an accord,
and promise to aid Vonn on his return to the keep and to try and find a way to
gain entry. When asked about providing
accommodations for Vonn, he declines.
“I’m a man of the North, one more night with Holdfast is no burden to
me.” Holdfast is revealed to be his
traveling companion, a hound. We agree
to meet the next morning and part ways.
The following morning, I ask Vonn if knows how to ride a
mount, and he reveals that he does indeed—and that he also has the ability to
conjure such a beast. I am encouraged by
this display of trust as well as impressed by the ability. We display our own abilities as Audric,
Selben and I conjure mounts for the rest of the party—seven of them—and realize
that the Tunterhorn brothers, as well, may not have known the extent of the
magic at our disposal. They seem pleased
with their choice of employer, and we depart.
As the day presses on, Vonn leads us into a light forest,
the wood line bracketing the rough trail.
After several long hours of uneventful riding, we see the dark stone
keep in the distance. It reminds us very
much of Oldkeep, though obviously in better repair. There are no signs of anything living or
dead, only the quiet keep ahead in the distance, though we are later encouraged
as we witness local fauna in the form of birds and small animals.
Vonn explains that the main courtyard has a single gated
entrance, ringed by 20-foot stone walls.
Within lies an inner keep beyond the courtyard. The outer gates are wood reinforced with
iron, providing no easy way to enter.
Selben mutters the words of a spell before laying his hands upon me, and
trusting in my apprentice’s craft, I nimbly scale the walls assisted by his
magic and climb to the top of the crenelated battlements. In one corner of the courtyard, I witness a large
pile of what appears to be frozen refuse—an artifact of the previous
resident, apparently. Not seeing any
obvious threat, I descend and attempt to lift the heavy bar and open the gate. I have to throw my back into it, but I manage
to dislodge the bar and I drop it to the ground with a heavy thud, sweat
glistening from my brow as the gate swings open.
We spare a few moments to consider how this may have been
locked if Berigaard left the keep of his own free will. Vonn, perplexed, confirms that Berigaard uses
the gate to enter and exit the keep, though points out that it’s odd for it to
be barred; usually the gate is closed, unbarred unless there is some obvious
threat. The Tunterhorn brothers bar the
door behind us as we make our way to the inner keep.
“Far be it from me to question your fighting abilities,”
Vonn warns, “but as we enter the keep, beware that my master is adept in magic.” He cautions us against
the chance that his master may have perhaps gone mad, a notion that frankly
makes us feel quite uncomfortable now that we’re confined within the walled
keep.
Vonn does not possess a key to the inner keep; Audric
tugs on the reinforced wooden double doors and finds them locked. The inner keep is tall—Vonn confirms that it
is a single story with high ceilings—and is bracketed by a pair of stone
towers. There are several windows open
to the elements, though they are all out of easy reach. Bonie offers her services to attempt the door—surprising us all, she withdraws a small pouch that contains a set of
lockpicks. “Huh,” Audric expresses, as
Bonie spends a few minutes at her work.
There’s the sound of metal grating on metal, before finally she turns away sweating. “I can’t get
it,” she admits.
Audric steps forward with a solution of his own, stepping
a few paces to the left of the door, the warrior chanting as he lays his hand
upon the stone. Amazingly, the stone
responds to his magic, and Audric forms a circle with his hands—the stone seems
to melt away, creating a portal large enough for us
to step through.
From within, we are assaulted by a foul stench of death and decay. Our minds immediately return to Xantharl’s
Keep, where we encountered a clutch of deadly undead that nearly defeated us. The scars of that encounter are well
remembered, Audric shrinking away from the portal he created as I voice the
words of a protective spell on myself.
Vonn steps to the portal and whispers an incantation of
his own, peering into the keep beyond. The chamber is dimly illuminated, lit only by
what remains of the fading light of the setting sun. Vonn’s magical perception detects a pair of
undead near the entrance, and the mage comes clambering back through the
portal.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask.
Vonn explains that which was revealed by his magic. “There are undead within; Berigaard is a
master of necromancy, and I fear that we are all in danger.” Vonn explains that he’s never witnessed the
capability to create such creatures from Berigaard, and fears what it may mean
for his master. “That would have been
great to know before trying to get into the keep,” we complain, but Vonn simply
shrugs.
I send the Tunterhorn brothers to the front gate to open
it should we need to withdraw and instruct them to stand guard. Stooping down to grab a pebble, I whisper a
prayer and call up powers granted to me by Malar, causing the stone to glow with a
divine light. I toss it through the
portal, and it clacks against the stone floor within; eerily, there is no
response.
Audric draws his enchanted blade, takes a deep breath,
and ducks through the portal. To his
right, he can see, stationed at either side of the door, a pair of upright corpses. They are outfitted in remnants of armor
and stand a silent vigil over the entryway.
They turn to regard Audric, and he withdraws—pushing the others away, he
and I stand guard over the portal,
The creatures do not follow, so I incant a few more words
to bolster our defenses as Lom, Audric and I climb through the hole to deal
with the threat. The creatures lumber
towards us, dragging crude weapons behind them.
Audric carves a chunk of flesh from one of the corpses, and the
creature’s shoulder falls to the ground in a pile of rotted flesh. Lom stabs through the rib cage of another,
but they seem unconcerned with the wounds—Lom is battered by one of the
creatures and we press our attack.
I brutalize one of them with the enchanted maul, and it
explodes in eerie silence as Audric cleaves through the other with his sword as
the both fall to the ground, still. We
call our companions into the hall. The entry
chamber is large, perhaps 60 by 30 feet, with high ceilings. Vonn steps through and scans the area,
indicating that the immediate area is clear of further undead. We gather torches from sconces on the wall
and light them, preparing to investigate the keep.
Two narrow corridors lead from the main chamber, one
leading to Vonn’s personal chamber, the other to Berigaard’s. Vonn knows that a pair of towers is accessible from either corner of the hall.
Vonn knows of nothing below his own quarters, though there is a cellar
accessible from outside as well as storage beneath each tower. Vonn admits that he has never been inside Berigaard’s
chamber.
Not wanting to leave any threat behind us, we investigate
the main hall and Vonn’s quarters first, finding them undisturbed. The door to Berigaard’s chamber is closed,
and we hear nothing beyond it. Audric
gives the handle a tug and finds it open.
He steps back as he and Lom draw bows, and I push the door open.
There is a light within, only visible when the
door is opened. I heave the door open and situated
in the center of the room is a large table covered in various parchments, lit
by a flickering hooded lantern. Behind
the table is a man, and he rises to his feet with a staff in his hand. He wears a heavy robe with the cowl folded down
upon his shoulders, revealing his face.
There is a darkness about the man, and we discern that the skin of his
neck is blackened, though the cause of the malady is not evident. “Vonn!” Audric and I call, and Berigaard’s
apprentice steps forward.
Berigaard clangs his staff onto the ground and shouts, “Silence!” Around the room, we witness a number of skeletons standing guard, each bearing a long knife, their eyes
flickering with necromantic light. Vonn
did not know this was an ability that his master possessed. “Vonn, you should not have returned. You should not have brought others with you.”
“What was your plan for me?” Vonn demands. “We studied together for months. If you wanted to sever ties with me, why
would you have not said so before?”
“Depart from this place,” Berigaard commands. “You are no longer needed here. I’m destined for far greater things than you!”
“Since when did Berigaard turn to madness?” Vonn
asks. “Master, if your studies of these
arts were meant for evil, you know that I came to you to learn to fight
evil. This must be addressed. When the orcs raided my village and killed
all my loved ones, I came to you seeking help.”
Berigaard interrupts Vonn’s speech, rapping his staff on
the floor, ere Bonie puts her hands on her head, clasping her ears, nearly
doubling over. When she looks up at me, it is with a face not like her own, and I am struck by the
notion that she might take up her sword against me. She seems to shake off the effect and is
visibly shaken. “Something just
happened,” she explains.
Berigaard makes a motion that sweeps across the room, uttering a
spell from his lips, and we are overwhelmed by a magic-induced malaise. The air feels thick, our motions slowed, our
entire perception seemingly altered by the magic that assaults us. For a second time, Bonie resists the magical coercion, and looks
hatefully at Berigaard, raising her bow to loose an arrow, but it misses and
shatters against the wall behind him.
Lom fires as well, though affected by whatever magic was brought to bear against us,
is not able to aim with any degree of accuracy.
A brilliant fan of magical colors emanates from Vonn’s
fingertips and washes over Berigaard, but the necromancer seems unaffected by his
apprentice’s spell. Audric works through
a familiar conjuration and stream of bats envelops Berigaard. The mage
starts flailing to fight off the bats as I finish my own spell, capturing
the necromancer in a globe of silence.
Two of the skeletons, fell lights flickering from within dark sockets, march from their positions towards
Vonn, and the apprentice is stabbed viciously as three more confront Bonie
and Lom, barring our way into the chamber and separating us from Vonn.
Berigaard withdraws, unable to voice spells in defense,
retreating into a corridor opposite the entrance to the room. Vonn uses his dagger to deftly fend off
attacks from the skeletons that assault him and manages to prevent further
wounds. I charge through Lom and Bonie
into the chamber to aid against Vonn’s attackers, but don’t manage much more
than presenting a distraction.
A skeleton slashes at Vonn again, cutting deep into the
mage’s outstretched arm as he holds it up to defend against an attack. Bonie and Lom surge forward, managing to
dodge attacks as they land a few blows in return. Audric breaks through the ranks of the
skeletons but, slowed and clumsy as a result of Berigaard’s spell, receives
slashes from his foes for the effort. My
own attack is feeble, and while I strike the skeleton, it does little more than
shatter a few ribs.
Selben steps up to fill in the gap left by Audric, and
shoves his torch into a skeleton which combusts, its bones brittle, and the
undead creature falls to the ground motionless.
Vonn withdraws from the melee—once he is safe, I bound over the table and
race after Berigaard, nearly getting hamstrung by one of the skeletons as I
rush past it. I shrug off the wound,
intent on my prey, and see the necromancer
huddling at the bottom of a staircase, holding his staff out at me menacingly.
Bonie and Selben together, torch and blade, dismember another
skeleton. Audric suffers more wounds as
he fends off a pair of attackers, the necromancer’s spell greatly decreasing
the warrior’s effectiveness, making his strikes slow and off balance, his
defense clumsy. Selben presses his torch
into another skeleton, causing it to step back and allowing Bonie to force her
way into the chamber. She swings her
sword in a horizontal arc and decapitates one of the skeletal foes.
The necromancer raps his staff against the floor feebly
in silence, still unable to verbalize the components of an arcane offense or
defense. My own sense of sound
disappears as I enter the radius of my spell, and I smile at the wizard,
mouthing the words “You’re mine.”
I raise my maul and sweep it downward in a crushing blow which
crashes into Berigaard’s arm; I can feel the bones crunch, even if I can’t hear
it. He parries my second attack, my
strikes hindered by the cramped quarters of the narrow passage and uneven
footing on the stairs.
Berigaard pulls himself to his feet and tries to shoulder
past me, and I catch him in the hip with a sweeping strike from my maul as he
flees back into the chamber above. Knowing
that my conjured silence will soon fade, I race after him, stumbling up the
stairs, but Berigaard slips away before I can catch up. Lom positions himself in the opening of the
corridor as Berigaard makes a break to escape and manages to just slip by as the ranger fumbles an attack, his efficacy hindered by Berigaard’s magic.
Audric is nearly cut down by the two remaining skeletons,
having suffered many accumulated wounds.
He parries attacks desperately as Bonie cuts down a skeleton,
Selben swinging his torch to drive off another.
I follow Lom as we race after Berigaard, and emerge in the main chamber where we spy him outside the door leading to one of
the towers. Lom fires an arrow that whizzes past me as I race to close with the necromancer, just as my
conjured silence fades. Berigaard raises
his voice with a spell as I charge him, unleashing a dark purple bolt of energy
that strikes me full in the chest. I
feel instantly diminished and deteriorated as the spell strips away my strength
will to fight. I charge through the bolt and retaliate, striking Berigaard as he retreats up the stairs of the
tower.
We share an exchange of spells as I pursue—I feel momentarily
slowed, an effect that I shake off as he darts away from my retaliatory spell,
an arrow of conjured acid that splashes against the wall behind him.
An arrow flies past my shoulder as Lom draws a bead and
strikes Berigaard through his neck, slaying him.
The necromancer topples, sliding down the stairs and leaving a
stream of blood in his wake. I ask Lom
if he wants to claim his kill, and he defers to me. I step forward and grab his tongue as Berigaard
gurgles blood with his last breaths, and sever it from his mouth. This close, I can see that a huge patch of
his skin is blackened, its stench putrid.
I wipe my blade off on his robe, then grab a boot and drag Berigaard
behind me, his head bouncing on the stone stairs, making a sickening sound as
it is repeatedly pulverized. I’m not
willing to leave this damned necromancer alone, even dead.
Audric returns to Berigaard’s chamber and
investigates. There is an object on the
floor, a heavy stone disk with eight uniform, jagged points. Inscribed in each of the points is a
primitive looking rune or symbol—moon and sun, tree and skull, bird and bear,
fire and wave. It bears more evaluation
later. There’s an inscription in the
middle in a language Audric doesn’t recognize.
There are spell components and bits of parchment that
look like spell research strewn about the chamber. Vonn seems visibly upset—he explains that Berigaard knew that
Vonn’s own research was geared towards combating the types of horrors that his
master created to fight them. He further
explains that he and Berigaard were not intimate friends—the line between master and
student was very clearly drawn—but this makes the betrayal no easier to accept.
Vonn’s own chamber and the towers seem intact, empty
of any further threat. At the bottom of
the staircase in Berigaard’s chamber, Audric discovers a depression in the wall that seems to match the shape of the disk he recovered from
the quarters above.
We decide to shelter in the keep through the night. Audric
and I tend to the group’s injuries; while effective, we are unequal to the task,
with Audric and Vonn both bearing many wounds and others more lightly
wounded. We drag the zombie corpses to
the refuse pile outside.
I awaken in the middle of the night and feel rejuvenated,
as if the lingering effect of Berigaard’s magic has worn off. Remembering the purple bolt that struck me, I
whisper a prayer to Malar in thanks. I
keep Berigaard’s’ body close as we rest through the night, unwilling to let it
out of my sight.
In the morning, after a brief period of study, Selben
applies his magic to an examination of the disk. None of us have ever seen anything like this
in our magical studies, nor do any of us recognize the language in which it is
written. Selben, however, aided by
magic, is able to comprehend the inscription, and he relays its meaning to us.
“To seek the cure inside, the fallen sun must rise.” We believe this to be a reference to the
symbols which surround the disk, paying special attention to the moon and sun
arranged on opposite sides. While Selben
and Audric examine the disk more closely, Vonn sorts through the gathered parchments. After some discussion and applying the most
rudimentary of spells to discern magical writings, we recognize the research to
be related to a spell such as the one Selben just used, something to decipher
the inscription on the disk.
Vonn recovers Berigaard’s spellbook and staff, and I look
upon the tome with both excitement and reluctance. Who can know what fell magics might lie
within—a book like this is better destroyed lest it fall into the wrong hands. Vonn offers to share its contents with us, an
extremely generous and tantalizing offer, knowing that we are more versed in
magical knowledge than he. “However, I
must ask for the staff for myself.” Vonn
knows that the staff will allow the wielder to control minds of others, and we
believe it to be the effect that he attempted to use on Bonie to turn her against us. Our
suspicions are confirmed when Vonn describes how Berigaard used its power to
turn goblins in the area against one another. A terrifying implement indeed. Berigaard was possessed of a protective magical ring, as
well, and we make a note to set aside time to its study later.
Audric believes he knows the answer to the riddle of the
disk, believing it to be a key. He also
feels that he understands its use from the inscription, and in a brazen display
he inserts the symbol with the sun pointing down and rotates it so that the sun
rises to the pinnacle. We hear a click
and a grinding of stone upon stone, as the end of the corridor at the foot of
the stairs reveals a door. The effect
seems purely mechanical, not magical—an engineering marvel. Audric gives the door a shove and it opens,
revealing a chamber beyond that looks as if it has not been disturbed for ages.
The room is not very large, perhaps 15 by 25 feet,
smaller than Berigaard’s chamber. Within
is a lidless stone sarcophagus that contains the remains of what looks to be a
human—only bones remain, its clothes having long since rotted away. Audric waves us all back and enters the
chamber on his own, but not before I layer every protective spell at my
disposal on him.
Audric tells us to be ready to shut the door behind him
if something happens. Examining the
sarcophagus, aside from the remains he finds a crude handaxe, a small vial, and
a gold chain with a white agate stone talisman. It
appears to be more than just mundane jewelry, more a symbol than a decoration,
to we know not its meaning or purpose. Above
the sarcophagus is a stone placard bearing an inscription in what
appears to be the same language as that etched into the disk. Audric ushers Selben—and no one else—into the
room, and my apprentice translates.
A traveler from afar
Of a world beyond the world
Lost in ours
Rest peacefully, my friend
The date is “The Year of the Stranger, 1064 DR,” nearly
200 years ago. Selben leaves the room
and Audric gathers the items from the sarcophagus—hand axe, vial, and necklace. We are relieved that nothing ill happens as
the corpse and its possessions are disturbed.
When the door is shut, we hear the grinding of stone upon stone again
and the door reseals. We are able to
discern, spaced at even intervals, tiny holes in the stonework—we believe
this to be a trap, likely that which left Berigaard with the putrid black marks
on his skin. I thank Malar that Audric
was spared such a fate, and marvel again at my companion’s ingenuity.
With many items to examine and mysteries to ponder, we
set about cleaning up the keep to make it habitable—Vonn has extended an invitation
for us to remain, as the keep now belongs to him and there are none
to dispute his claim.
