We’ve been camped at the base of Wizard’s Tower since our return to this location from Phent. We’ve decided that we should go delve the dungeon, as it were, in waves. This, I suppose, is to ensure that someone survives should things turn foul in the depths. This last wave consisted of a small group including Hammah, Wynnin, Cole and Theartist. They’ve just returned and look much the worse for wear. They tell me a tale wherein Theartist’s propensity for flight in the face of any danger saved everyone’s lives. My guess is that perhaps extreme discretion in the face of battle does have its virtues.The next morning Hammah, Cole and myself draw the short strings and we gear up. The plan is a further exploration of an alter room and perhaps heading deeper into the caverns and warrens of the mountain. I’m very glad to have these two men at my back. Cole is a tall, thin fellow who seems he cannot decide whether to grow a man’s beard or to wear stubble, as his face is constantly unshaven without a full growth. His wit may duller than some but that doesn’t show one bit in his heart. He is the first to battle and stands like a rock against enemies. His painted armor shows the dents and tears of his bravery. He has acquired a new sword, a magnificent piece that he claims holds some magic. Power of this sort is well placed in Cole’s hands.
Hammah is bravery personified. He never shrinks. More than once I’ve seen him grit his teeth, put his shoulder into his shield and press on in the face of mortal danger.
It is a comfort and an honor to descend into the depths of the dungeon with these men. I am not worthy of their companionship nor their trust. I am an abomination with purple skin and copper eyes. I won’t even allow myself to cover my plum pate with hair, and I shave with a borrowed knife before we proceed.
Detailing every encounter that we had that day would be both tedious to compose and even more dreadful to digest, so I will touch on the moments of memory. The Alter room contained mysteries we were unable to divine, so we moved on. We stumbled upon rooms filled with the same azure orcs Theartist described from the day before, but our trio dispatched them dispassionately. We became more a mill of death than a group of friends, moving with efficiency and purpose. My companions would form an impenetrable wall of steel and muscle while my cerulean bolts of demonic magic flayed the flesh from our enemy’s bones.
My Grandsire was happy with the meat that I served him today, but he laughed at me. There is more to come. He has a purpose for me, I know not what. My hope is that my companions are spared his machinations.
We found a secret room containing a model of the castle. This revealed to us that there are many unexplored areas that have, as of yet, escaped our attention. We foiled traps and locked doors, encountering orcs and creatures posing as rocks that fell upon us. When we found the fourth level of our delve we were set upon by frogmen, troglydites who sought to rend us with claw and tooth. At one point even the ants of the place sought to eject us.
All the while Cole smiled and enjoyed the journey. The moment that caused me the most panic was, just before entering a door, he exclaimed, “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Remarkably we survived that combat with the disguised Troglydites, though just barely.
After that battle, and with the day having gone long and our resources running short, we deiced to head to the surface to join the others. Each of us was intact if not bruised and exhausted. I will make my way down here again tomorrow.