The last 2 weeks have been quite filled for me. I returned Four Feather’s body to the druids in Smallville, who ensured that she would have a proper burial. I spent the night in Smallville giving a small musical show to the regulars at the tavern.
I left town the next day, and made good time across the plains near the mountains. I managed to get a into the mountains before I had to stop and camp.
I had a strange dream that night in which I was standing before an altar. There was a strange... thing... standing behind it, chanting a prayer to some dark deity, who I have yet to identify. He spotted me watching, and reached for me, as if trying to call me closer. From the floor stood 4 skeletons, an elf, a dwarf, a gnome, and a Halfling. They began to shamble towards me, and I drew the Cursed Sword. I took up a defensive stance waiting for one of those skeletons to attack. As they attacked, I easily dodged their blows, and landed hit of my own, but as the skeleton’s fell, instead of crumbling to dust, it took on a form of the companions I had a just few days before.
Terrified that the dream could be a terrible omen, I postponed my journey to meet them, and traveled instead to the Dwarven fortress, hoping that I would eventually receive word from Drusilia and the others. It seems that I cannot stay out of trouble, though, and was greeted by a gruff Dwarf at the gates. I’ve been told of a Dwarf’s tendency to be distrustful, but this Dwarf most certainly took the award for suspicious. Granted, I suppose the situation he was in attributed to his unwelcoming demeanor.
I immediately realized something was wrong when his first words to me were, “Can you use that weapon?” as he eyed the sword I carried. I found out later that the fortress was under siege from below - Dark Dwarves called Duergar. A little over a week I spent helping the dwarves fight. I can see that as the Elves, the Dwarves have an evil breed that will stop at nothing to destroy their brethren.
I received a message from Drusilia early one morning:
I sent her back a message as quickly as I could:
Been fighting Dwarves of the deep.
Fortunate Elves need little sleep.
Unsure I can get all that dust.
Reply. Will do what I must.
I spent another day fighting that day, though it seemed to be getting to a lull. I asked around about Arun-tosa and Barraktor, but got nothing but discouragement. The Dwarves say that the places are cursed, though they gave me directions, calling me a fool for wishing to travel there. They appreciate my loyalty to my friends, though, and I hope that I will be able to catch them in time.
That night my strange dreams returned. This time however, it was my sword that was on an altar, and it was being blessed by Corellon Larethian. He blessed it and motioned for me to pick it up. When I did, it felt as though my sword was ripping part of my being from me. I woke up almost immediately, and found I was holding my sword, and it felt more powerful than it did before.
I met a human while I was spending my time with the Dwarves. He calls himself Markus. He says he is a wandering sorcerer, and he seems to know some about magical arts.
I have told him a little about what the party is doing and he seems interested in tagging along. I am sure that they will appreciate the help.
I received another message from Drusilia before we set out this morning:
Forget dust; just bring you!
Arun-tosa map proved true.
Arrived via southern mine.
Checking big structures first a shrine.
Comrades’ brains already mush...
Please rush!
I returned a message as quickly as I could, and we set off towards Arun-tosa.
Asked for advice.
Got nothing nice.
Dwarves say Arun-tosa is BAD.
Traveling to, purely mad.
The journey is hard.
But traveling there, this Elven bard.
I have learned much from the Dwarves during my short stay with them. I hope it goes to good use...
And I hope that I don’t reach the party too late...
Posted by Tim on May 18, 2003, 02:20 | Valon’s Journal