As we stood in front of the dragon, not one of us be makin’ a move. Not out of cowardice, but due to the damn wyrm’s lack of hostility toward us. It be easy to throw meself into battle against those I be sure wantin’ me dead, but this dragon ain’t be convincin’ any of us we should attack it. Course, Torinn be movin’ toward the thing along with Henrick who be pulled by that damned sword, but all the rest be lookin’ at me to make the call.
“Dwarf, I can cure your father of his vampirism.”
I ‘bout dropped me hammer at that. Me pa, a vampire? How? The last I be seein’ of him, he be spirited off with that magic user down in the tombs after givin’ Belomash all the orc could handle.
That’s when Belomash moved to me side and told me this ain’t the right time to pick a fight, that we be at too much of a disadvantage given the situation. I nodded me agreement and called to the dragon that I be takin’ it up with the Council of Sparkling Stones back in Mirabar.
And that be when Henrick went and surprised us all: he give out a loud cry and the next thing we see is him tossin’ that dragon killin’ sword out of his hand and through the portal!
Well, don’t that beat all? Henrick then collapsed into Torinn’s arms, sobbin’ like he lost his best friend while Torinn did his best to quiet the elf.
We backed outta the room and before leavin’ I made sure to hallow the crypt and temple, ensurin’ that blasted necromancer never be able to do what he did again. To be sure, I be needin’ to track him down to pay him back in full for his crimes, but I done what I can for now.
We then made our way back to Mirabar where the others looked for supplies and some new weapons. Torinn managed to find some winged boots, lettin’ him fly and becomin’ one step nearer to bein’ a full-on dragon. A dragon-born’s grin is a toothy mess, for sure. Zoltan wanted to get more info about the orcs that be causin’ a ruckus in Lurkwood, and so looked for a guide but ended up with a map, instead. Maybe to fill in some limitations of the map, he then be payin’ a visit to Xorgrum, that distempered gnome that had been involved in some evil there in the woods, supposedly to protect his people from the orcs. The gnome told Zoltan about a fortress and some nearby druids who might be able to clue us in on what to expect there.
The party decided to forgo the visit to the druids. Our decision not to talk with them wild-folk would prove costly, though.
While travelin’ toward Lurkwood several questions I be havin’ ate at me so much I spent one evenin’ posin’ questions to The Keeper of Secrets, seein’ what I could get out of him. Dumathoin ain’t called The Silent Keeper for nothin’ – I got images in response rather than words, as I be expectin’. My first question I be askin’ is if we could be trustin’ what the shadow dragon told us: an image of a scale with ore on one side, jewels on the other, lookin’ like the scale could go one way or the other at any moment, appeared before me: “perhaps”, is best I can figure, though I ain’t be understandin’ the conditions.
Then I be askin’ about whether I had fulfilled me oath to Him to take back the mine. Me ma’s Dumathoin amulet grew warm in me hands at that question, and a wave of peace be washin’ over me. I ain’t too proud to admit a tear fell from me eye at that.
Me third and final question I be torn on, as I be wantin’ to ask about me pa but knew any answer I be gettin’ about him be limited to aye or nay. So instead I ask if it be time for me to move against the Hunzrin bitch and her Drow family. An image of me, but not quite meself, appeared. It was me, but older, wielding me father’s hammer which I had entombed with him on his death, but now he carried in his undeath.
Maybe Dumathoin be favorin’ me with an answer to both questions with that sight.
The next mornin’, after I be prayin’ for me spells and thankin’ Dumathoin for his guidance, we continued to what be called Ironheld fortress, and a sorry sight it was. Nothin’ but ruins, it be, with gapin’ holes in its walls and overrun with ivy and weeds. Human craftsmanship, to be sure.
Some of us be spyin’ some movement within and on top of the walls, so Zoltan casts a minor spell changin’ our appearances to be lookin’ like buck-toothed orcs. Belomash, the only one among us with reason to speak orc jibber-jabber, approached first, and when a single orc comes out to question him, Henrick gets all antsy and shoots an arrow through its head.
That’s when it all went to hell.
The others made their way through what appeared to be the main entrance into the keep, while I went to a hole in the wall and inspected a side room. A war cry soon went up and orcs seemed to come outta the walls, comin’ at us from all directions. And not yer average orc – these bastards be tougher than what I’ve come to expect of orcs and were led by a monstrous figure in a mask uglier than any orc I laid eyes on. It seemed able to inspire its orc-kin into a frenzy, and it was all we could do to defeat those that came at us. I fell at the hands of one after killin’ its worg, later openin’ me eyes to see Henrick tendin’ to me wounds with some magic.
Belomash ended up with the mask of that orc – something magic about it, for sure.
Whether we have more to be findin’ out about this keep is another question.
For now I’ll be backin’ the play of me friends, until I know I’m ready to take on the Drow. But I’ll also let them know ‘bout the uncertainty about the dragon back at the mine. Maybe they’ll want to take some further action.
If so, I’ll be ready.
