Post by Bandgoat on Aug 31, 2014 15:07:33 GMT -6
Abadius 17, 4708 – Late Evening
Dearest Husband,
It has certainly been an eventful evening. What I thought would be a pointless and wasteful search of a simple hole in the ground, turned out to be a step toward uncovering more Thassilonian mysteries.
Once we had thoroughly prepared ourselves, we lowered ourselves down with ropes into the sinkhole. When we reached the bottom, to our surprise we found a short flight of stairs winding downward lower into the ground. The stairwell was choked with webs and, as we descended, we heard the sounds of strange baying dogs and human-like shrieks emanating from somewhere below. I recognized the otherworldly sounds as being associated with yeth hounds, though there was something peculiar about them. Tolgun burned away the webs blocking our path and we proceeded, though the webs mysteriously reformed behind us as we passed. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we found ourselves staring into a blank wall of stone. However, I soon spotted a hidden door in the wall and we carefully entered.
On the other side of the door, we found a narrow, partially collapsed corridor of worked stone. The baying of hounds grew louder and corridor was filled with dense fog. We followed the corridor for a few feet before it opened into a large room. The fog made it difficult to pick out fine details, but the walls, floor, and ceiling were completely covered in writing, the words spiraling and trailing and overlapping – all written in ancient Thassilonian. At first, all we found were prayers, invocations, lamentations, dedications, scriptures, and descriptive writings concerning the demon goddess Lamashtu, though we eventually found more as we searched harder: poetry, describing the Thassilonian reliquary of magic known as Runeforge.
Before we could delve too deeply into this underground vault, we felt the presence of another person. He spoke to us, unseen, in the Thassilonian tongue, “What happened to Thassilon?”
Being the most familiar with the language, I replied, “It fell shortly after the Earthfall.”
“What nation has replaced it?” inquired the disembodied voice.
Not wishing to enter into a long-winded geo-political dissertation, I simply stated, “No one nation has replaced the mighty Thassilonian Empire, but this land is known as Varisia,” trying to appease the voice.
Apparently missing the point, the intangible voiced asked, “Who rules this land of Varisia?”
“Many rule the disparate parts of Varisia,” I explained.
“Where is the seat of their power?”
“Magnimar is the largest city and Korvosa is the most important seat of government.”
The inquisitive voice asked, “What became of the runelords Karzoug and Alaznist?”
“We do not know for sure.”
“Who wields the powerful magic today?”
Guessing at his purpose in this line of questioning, I offered, “We have heard rumors of Karzoug returning to power.”
Then, the ghostly voiced paused before thoughtfully saying, “Hmm…the Claimer is returning from his slumber. I must think on this.”
With that, we felt the presence leave the chamber and we continued our search of the room.
We found passageways leading off into fog-filled tunnels, hidden by some illusory magic. Following one such tunnel, we found that the writing along the walls continued. More magically concealed doors led to partially collapsed chambers. Making a note of any poetic verses we found unrelated to Lamashtu, we continued our search of the caverns, eventually finding a chamber containing a shallow pool of water. A low stone rim surrounded the pool that seemed to glow with a soft radiance. The walls around the room were carved in large runes and the ceiling rose to a dome above. The water in the pool appeared to be pure and non-magical, though the surroundings did remind Soril and other party members of the caverns they discovered below the glass-works several months ago.
Returning to the large chamber near the entrance to these passages, we saw lights flicker through the fog in what appeared to be an immense space. Pushing our way to the light, we again detected the presence of someone else in the room. He again spoke, “You claim that Karzoug has reawakened, has there been any news of Runelord Alaznist?”
“We have heard none,” I diplomatically responded.
“Any news of Runelords Zutha, Xanderghul, Sorshen, Krune, Belimarius?”
“No,” I said simply, trying to keep a mental note of those names for later research.
The incorporeal voice again paused and spoke, “I will have to think upon this. I will talk to you again soon.”
Wanting to seize the initiative and make some inquiries of my own, I quickly asked, “May I ask your name?”
“You may call me The Scribbler,” was his response.
“Well met, Master Scribbler,” I said. “What is the significance of Karzoug’s return?”
“The only significance is that one of them had to be first.”
“One of the seven?” I asked in clarification.
“Yes,” he said, “the seven runelords of Thassilon.”
“Will the others follow?”
“Runelords are in opposition and there can never be just one.”
This response, though not surprising, led me to believe the troubles plaguing our homeland may not simply be limited to the one runelord reawakening in Xin-Shalast. It may indicate the entire Thassilonian Empire may be emerging from its millennia-long slumber, multiplying our potential enemies sevenfold.
Changing the topic slightly and remembering the giants were looking for a traitor named Xaliasa, I delicately questioned, “Do you know of the key to Runeforge?”
His tone lightening, he said, “Ahh, you seek the Runeforge?!” Almost boastfully he added, “I did discover the key to the Runeforge, but that is not a secret I will divulge. However, I have hidden the map to the Runeforge in the writings of this shrine.”
Confirming my suspicions on multiple levels, I wanted to continue our conversation, perhaps seeking an ally in our struggles. However, my diplomatic skills were exhausted so I crudely asked, “Whence and wherefore the howling?” referring to the canine baying still echoing throughout the subterranean chambers.
“Those are my pets, given to me by my mistress.”
The gender qualification at first led me to suspect him to be an agent of Alaznist, so I asked, “To which runelord do you owe allegiance?”
“I owe no allegiance to any mortal,” he cryptically replied.
Confusedly I asked, “What is your purpose in being here?”
“I am the protector and guardian of this place.”
“And what is the significance of this place?” I queried, seeking an in-depth explanation to the Thassilonian ruins below Sandpoint.
He simply replied, “This is a shrine to my mistress.”
Then I knew to whom he was enthralled and could not help but whisper, “Lamashtu.”
With that, the unseen presence again disappeared.
After I gave a brief summation of our conversation to the rest of our group, we continued to press further into the so-called shrine. Although portions of the cathedral had collapsed, leaving mounds of rubble on the floors and crumbling walls, the chamber retained its sense of menacing awe. Four black stone pillars supported the arched roof over six fathoms above and on the floor between them, the image of a three-eyed jackal seemed to glower from striations in the stone itself. The image glowed with a soft rusty light that illuminated the entire room from below, though fog still obscured our sight. Alcoves to either side contained statues of jackal-headed pregnant women, each clutching a pair of kukris crossed across her chest with a reptilian tail winding down around her taloned feet. Ahead of us, what once might have been a stone pulpit featuring other statues, seemed to have been partially buried under an ancient collapse. The walls of this room were densely decorated with hundreds of scribblings and scrawling runes. That was where we encountered the beast. It was a huge, green, demon-like thing beyond all our experience. No sooner had we drawn steel, than an identical creature materialized in the room, dividing our group. While Ryll, Tolgun, Nala, and Gorm tried desperately to bring down the first monster as quickly as possible, I was the only thing standing between the second beast and our more lightly armored allies, Lai’Ki and Soril, and our foe knew it. Its attacks were massive and painful, but my defensive spells kept me alive until help arrived from Ryll who seemed to have taken considerable damage from her fight with the first demon. After a hard-won fight, we prevailed, though our resources were severely depleted. We had only a moment or two for Ryll and Tolgun to use their healing magics on us before we were set upon by a large, ravenous pack of demonic dogs. One attacked me with such ferocity that I was briefly taken aback, but I quickly recovered as Soril encircled most of the pack in a burning ring of fire. The hounds proved to be much easier to handle than the larger creatures of the previous fight and we sent their souls back to the abyss that spawned them.
From the shrine to Lamashtu, we continued to explore through a tunnel that looked like a recently collapsed corridor. It led to three rough caverns to one side, then headed on into a square room of worked stone. We found more writings, including more of the cryptic poetry. Hidden behind another illusory wall in that room, we found a door. Gorm entered it and abruptly lost all control of himself. Later, he said he heard whispers in his head saying that we were all about to attack him. He passed through the door, turned around giving us a frightened look, and slammed the door shut. Ryll and Tolgun heaved open the door, finding that Gorm’s shield had been barring the door and no other sign of our newest Dwarven “friend.” What we did find was a fog-covered corridor before us and the sound of another door opening, soon followed by the sound of a dwarf yelping in pain. We quickly, but cautiously, went down the hallway until we found an opened door sticking through and illusory wall. Ryll looked inside the room and saw Gorm looking around in a state of panic. She asked him what may be troubling him. By means of reply, Gorm barreled through the entire party, running back up the hall. I was about the bring an end to this tomfoolery with a jarring but nonlethal spell, but Soril was able to determine Gorm was under the effect of an enchantment, so he dispelled the effect with a very useful spell using his very useful dagger.
The formerly crazed dwarf told us that the room at the end of the hall had hurt him severely when he attempted to enter it. Fearing the chamber was warded, but having no way to counteract the effect or any way to examine the contents of the room without entering, Ryll and I entered the chamber anyway. The pain was excruciating, like a thousand tiny needles repeatedly stabbing at my mind. Eventually, though, the pain subsided, allowing me to examine the room and the writing it contained. I found nothing of interest in the writings: no additional lines of poetry. While I read, Soril had a few moments of contemplation, finally realizing that the entire underground complex was under a protective spell. Tolgun tried to dispel the the fog effect, but failed in his brave attempt. Having determined that we had explored as much of the ruins as possible, we decided to do a quick reconnoiter of the complex, searching for additional magical auras. Soril quickly determined that, inside the doubly warded room, a quill made from the feather of a peacock exhibited an extraordinarily high magical quality. He then proceeded throughout the the rest of the underground shrine while I merely grabbed any valuables we could repossess, including the magical quill.
After a few moments of searching and reentering the main shrine area, a voice rang out through the halls and chambers saying, “Bring back my quill!” Before I had a chance to retrieve the quill, we were savagely attacked, presumably by the one identifying himself as The Scribbler. I actually feel guilty about the altercation since, in hindsight, I did pilfer items likely belonging to someone else, with whom we had made friendly contact. Then again, his violent response was probably an overreaction. Whoever was at fault, the past cannot be undone. We defended ourselves against his vicious attacks, his large, weighted sword occasionally animating to “gnaw” upon the victims of his strikes. The attack was fierce, with our assailant popping in and out all over the battle area. Soril was able to momentarily disperse the fog in a corner of the shrine, so we were able to see The Scribbler more clearly. Unfortunately, that was not enough to prevent Nala from hitting me with another acid bomb. (The little demon child then flew away so I could not kill him.) We were eventually able to win the fight; however, the savagery of our attacker and his use of potent spells left us little choice but to kill him. It is a shame we could not find out more information about him, Runeforge, Thassilon, or the return of the runelords. Nor have we been able to determine The Scribbler’s purpose for being in a Lamashtu shrine below Sandpoint or how it had remained hidden for so long. Perhaps the shrine once met up with the other tunnels below Sandpoint through the collapsed corridors.
Believing all the denizens of the sinkhole were defeated, we did an intense search of the place, but found nothing else of interest. The magical quill we found had some interesting and possibly useful qualities, as described by the ever-curious Nala. He said that if one were to ask it a prophetic question, the quill begins to write out a short phrase in response, as if being manipulated by an unseen hand. It could be handy in preparing for the adventures yet to come. It may even have been responsible for the poetic riddles we found scrawled around the underground shrine. With the cryptic writings copied onto parchment, we retired back to the town to study them and possibly piece together some clues about entering Runeforge. The curious lines of script read,
If magic bright is your desire,
To old Runeforge must you retire!
For only there does wizards’ art
Receive its due and proper start.
On eastern shores of steaming mirror,
At end of day when dusk is nearer,
Where seven faces silent wait
Encircled guards at Runeforge gate.
Each stone the grace of seven lords,
One part of key each ruler hoards;
If offered spells and proper prayer,
Take seven keys and climb the stair.
On frozen mountain Xin awaits,
His regal voice the yawning gates
Keys turn twice in Sihedron -
Occulted Runeforge waits within.
And now you’ve come and joined the forge,
Upon rare lore your mind can gorge -
And when you slough the mortal way,
In Runeforge long your work shall stay.
It sounds like we have been given a great number of clues to find the opening to this mysterious Runeforge, except the exact location to find it. The riddles speak of frozen mountains, so we may be traveling far to the north, beyond my geographical expertise. Perhaps Lai’Ki could shed some light on what “steaming mirror” represents. We will have to gather intelligence on the area and prepare accordingly. So, although we still want a closer look at the Old Light and maybe the other tunnels below the town, our near future looks like it may lead us to the reliquary of Thassilonian magical experimentation.
Our ultimate goal remains confronting Karzoug at Xin-Shalast, but we still have no good lead to his location and we may have additional foes to face if the other runelords awaken. I still hope a peaceful outcome can come of this, perhaps involving an accord between Karzoug and the leaders of the Varisian city-states, but any settlement may not be enough for the Runelord of Greed.
- Ever Yours, Epshi
Dearest Husband,
It has certainly been an eventful evening. What I thought would be a pointless and wasteful search of a simple hole in the ground, turned out to be a step toward uncovering more Thassilonian mysteries.
Once we had thoroughly prepared ourselves, we lowered ourselves down with ropes into the sinkhole. When we reached the bottom, to our surprise we found a short flight of stairs winding downward lower into the ground. The stairwell was choked with webs and, as we descended, we heard the sounds of strange baying dogs and human-like shrieks emanating from somewhere below. I recognized the otherworldly sounds as being associated with yeth hounds, though there was something peculiar about them. Tolgun burned away the webs blocking our path and we proceeded, though the webs mysteriously reformed behind us as we passed. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we found ourselves staring into a blank wall of stone. However, I soon spotted a hidden door in the wall and we carefully entered.
On the other side of the door, we found a narrow, partially collapsed corridor of worked stone. The baying of hounds grew louder and corridor was filled with dense fog. We followed the corridor for a few feet before it opened into a large room. The fog made it difficult to pick out fine details, but the walls, floor, and ceiling were completely covered in writing, the words spiraling and trailing and overlapping – all written in ancient Thassilonian. At first, all we found were prayers, invocations, lamentations, dedications, scriptures, and descriptive writings concerning the demon goddess Lamashtu, though we eventually found more as we searched harder: poetry, describing the Thassilonian reliquary of magic known as Runeforge.
Before we could delve too deeply into this underground vault, we felt the presence of another person. He spoke to us, unseen, in the Thassilonian tongue, “What happened to Thassilon?”
Being the most familiar with the language, I replied, “It fell shortly after the Earthfall.”
“What nation has replaced it?” inquired the disembodied voice.
Not wishing to enter into a long-winded geo-political dissertation, I simply stated, “No one nation has replaced the mighty Thassilonian Empire, but this land is known as Varisia,” trying to appease the voice.
Apparently missing the point, the intangible voiced asked, “Who rules this land of Varisia?”
“Many rule the disparate parts of Varisia,” I explained.
“Where is the seat of their power?”
“Magnimar is the largest city and Korvosa is the most important seat of government.”
The inquisitive voice asked, “What became of the runelords Karzoug and Alaznist?”
“We do not know for sure.”
“Who wields the powerful magic today?”
Guessing at his purpose in this line of questioning, I offered, “We have heard rumors of Karzoug returning to power.”
Then, the ghostly voiced paused before thoughtfully saying, “Hmm…the Claimer is returning from his slumber. I must think on this.”
With that, we felt the presence leave the chamber and we continued our search of the room.
We found passageways leading off into fog-filled tunnels, hidden by some illusory magic. Following one such tunnel, we found that the writing along the walls continued. More magically concealed doors led to partially collapsed chambers. Making a note of any poetic verses we found unrelated to Lamashtu, we continued our search of the caverns, eventually finding a chamber containing a shallow pool of water. A low stone rim surrounded the pool that seemed to glow with a soft radiance. The walls around the room were carved in large runes and the ceiling rose to a dome above. The water in the pool appeared to be pure and non-magical, though the surroundings did remind Soril and other party members of the caverns they discovered below the glass-works several months ago.
Returning to the large chamber near the entrance to these passages, we saw lights flicker through the fog in what appeared to be an immense space. Pushing our way to the light, we again detected the presence of someone else in the room. He again spoke, “You claim that Karzoug has reawakened, has there been any news of Runelord Alaznist?”
“We have heard none,” I diplomatically responded.
“Any news of Runelords Zutha, Xanderghul, Sorshen, Krune, Belimarius?”
“No,” I said simply, trying to keep a mental note of those names for later research.
The incorporeal voice again paused and spoke, “I will have to think upon this. I will talk to you again soon.”
Wanting to seize the initiative and make some inquiries of my own, I quickly asked, “May I ask your name?”
“You may call me The Scribbler,” was his response.
“Well met, Master Scribbler,” I said. “What is the significance of Karzoug’s return?”
“The only significance is that one of them had to be first.”
“One of the seven?” I asked in clarification.
“Yes,” he said, “the seven runelords of Thassilon.”
“Will the others follow?”
“Runelords are in opposition and there can never be just one.”
This response, though not surprising, led me to believe the troubles plaguing our homeland may not simply be limited to the one runelord reawakening in Xin-Shalast. It may indicate the entire Thassilonian Empire may be emerging from its millennia-long slumber, multiplying our potential enemies sevenfold.
Changing the topic slightly and remembering the giants were looking for a traitor named Xaliasa, I delicately questioned, “Do you know of the key to Runeforge?”
His tone lightening, he said, “Ahh, you seek the Runeforge?!” Almost boastfully he added, “I did discover the key to the Runeforge, but that is not a secret I will divulge. However, I have hidden the map to the Runeforge in the writings of this shrine.”
Confirming my suspicions on multiple levels, I wanted to continue our conversation, perhaps seeking an ally in our struggles. However, my diplomatic skills were exhausted so I crudely asked, “Whence and wherefore the howling?” referring to the canine baying still echoing throughout the subterranean chambers.
“Those are my pets, given to me by my mistress.”
The gender qualification at first led me to suspect him to be an agent of Alaznist, so I asked, “To which runelord do you owe allegiance?”
“I owe no allegiance to any mortal,” he cryptically replied.
Confusedly I asked, “What is your purpose in being here?”
“I am the protector and guardian of this place.”
“And what is the significance of this place?” I queried, seeking an in-depth explanation to the Thassilonian ruins below Sandpoint.
He simply replied, “This is a shrine to my mistress.”
Then I knew to whom he was enthralled and could not help but whisper, “Lamashtu.”
With that, the unseen presence again disappeared.
After I gave a brief summation of our conversation to the rest of our group, we continued to press further into the so-called shrine. Although portions of the cathedral had collapsed, leaving mounds of rubble on the floors and crumbling walls, the chamber retained its sense of menacing awe. Four black stone pillars supported the arched roof over six fathoms above and on the floor between them, the image of a three-eyed jackal seemed to glower from striations in the stone itself. The image glowed with a soft rusty light that illuminated the entire room from below, though fog still obscured our sight. Alcoves to either side contained statues of jackal-headed pregnant women, each clutching a pair of kukris crossed across her chest with a reptilian tail winding down around her taloned feet. Ahead of us, what once might have been a stone pulpit featuring other statues, seemed to have been partially buried under an ancient collapse. The walls of this room were densely decorated with hundreds of scribblings and scrawling runes. That was where we encountered the beast. It was a huge, green, demon-like thing beyond all our experience. No sooner had we drawn steel, than an identical creature materialized in the room, dividing our group. While Ryll, Tolgun, Nala, and Gorm tried desperately to bring down the first monster as quickly as possible, I was the only thing standing between the second beast and our more lightly armored allies, Lai’Ki and Soril, and our foe knew it. Its attacks were massive and painful, but my defensive spells kept me alive until help arrived from Ryll who seemed to have taken considerable damage from her fight with the first demon. After a hard-won fight, we prevailed, though our resources were severely depleted. We had only a moment or two for Ryll and Tolgun to use their healing magics on us before we were set upon by a large, ravenous pack of demonic dogs. One attacked me with such ferocity that I was briefly taken aback, but I quickly recovered as Soril encircled most of the pack in a burning ring of fire. The hounds proved to be much easier to handle than the larger creatures of the previous fight and we sent their souls back to the abyss that spawned them.
From the shrine to Lamashtu, we continued to explore through a tunnel that looked like a recently collapsed corridor. It led to three rough caverns to one side, then headed on into a square room of worked stone. We found more writings, including more of the cryptic poetry. Hidden behind another illusory wall in that room, we found a door. Gorm entered it and abruptly lost all control of himself. Later, he said he heard whispers in his head saying that we were all about to attack him. He passed through the door, turned around giving us a frightened look, and slammed the door shut. Ryll and Tolgun heaved open the door, finding that Gorm’s shield had been barring the door and no other sign of our newest Dwarven “friend.” What we did find was a fog-covered corridor before us and the sound of another door opening, soon followed by the sound of a dwarf yelping in pain. We quickly, but cautiously, went down the hallway until we found an opened door sticking through and illusory wall. Ryll looked inside the room and saw Gorm looking around in a state of panic. She asked him what may be troubling him. By means of reply, Gorm barreled through the entire party, running back up the hall. I was about the bring an end to this tomfoolery with a jarring but nonlethal spell, but Soril was able to determine Gorm was under the effect of an enchantment, so he dispelled the effect with a very useful spell using his very useful dagger.
The formerly crazed dwarf told us that the room at the end of the hall had hurt him severely when he attempted to enter it. Fearing the chamber was warded, but having no way to counteract the effect or any way to examine the contents of the room without entering, Ryll and I entered the chamber anyway. The pain was excruciating, like a thousand tiny needles repeatedly stabbing at my mind. Eventually, though, the pain subsided, allowing me to examine the room and the writing it contained. I found nothing of interest in the writings: no additional lines of poetry. While I read, Soril had a few moments of contemplation, finally realizing that the entire underground complex was under a protective spell. Tolgun tried to dispel the the fog effect, but failed in his brave attempt. Having determined that we had explored as much of the ruins as possible, we decided to do a quick reconnoiter of the complex, searching for additional magical auras. Soril quickly determined that, inside the doubly warded room, a quill made from the feather of a peacock exhibited an extraordinarily high magical quality. He then proceeded throughout the the rest of the underground shrine while I merely grabbed any valuables we could repossess, including the magical quill.
After a few moments of searching and reentering the main shrine area, a voice rang out through the halls and chambers saying, “Bring back my quill!” Before I had a chance to retrieve the quill, we were savagely attacked, presumably by the one identifying himself as The Scribbler. I actually feel guilty about the altercation since, in hindsight, I did pilfer items likely belonging to someone else, with whom we had made friendly contact. Then again, his violent response was probably an overreaction. Whoever was at fault, the past cannot be undone. We defended ourselves against his vicious attacks, his large, weighted sword occasionally animating to “gnaw” upon the victims of his strikes. The attack was fierce, with our assailant popping in and out all over the battle area. Soril was able to momentarily disperse the fog in a corner of the shrine, so we were able to see The Scribbler more clearly. Unfortunately, that was not enough to prevent Nala from hitting me with another acid bomb. (The little demon child then flew away so I could not kill him.) We were eventually able to win the fight; however, the savagery of our attacker and his use of potent spells left us little choice but to kill him. It is a shame we could not find out more information about him, Runeforge, Thassilon, or the return of the runelords. Nor have we been able to determine The Scribbler’s purpose for being in a Lamashtu shrine below Sandpoint or how it had remained hidden for so long. Perhaps the shrine once met up with the other tunnels below Sandpoint through the collapsed corridors.
Believing all the denizens of the sinkhole were defeated, we did an intense search of the place, but found nothing else of interest. The magical quill we found had some interesting and possibly useful qualities, as described by the ever-curious Nala. He said that if one were to ask it a prophetic question, the quill begins to write out a short phrase in response, as if being manipulated by an unseen hand. It could be handy in preparing for the adventures yet to come. It may even have been responsible for the poetic riddles we found scrawled around the underground shrine. With the cryptic writings copied onto parchment, we retired back to the town to study them and possibly piece together some clues about entering Runeforge. The curious lines of script read,
If magic bright is your desire,
To old Runeforge must you retire!
For only there does wizards’ art
Receive its due and proper start.
On eastern shores of steaming mirror,
At end of day when dusk is nearer,
Where seven faces silent wait
Encircled guards at Runeforge gate.
Each stone the grace of seven lords,
One part of key each ruler hoards;
If offered spells and proper prayer,
Take seven keys and climb the stair.
On frozen mountain Xin awaits,
His regal voice the yawning gates
Keys turn twice in Sihedron -
Occulted Runeforge waits within.
And now you’ve come and joined the forge,
Upon rare lore your mind can gorge -
And when you slough the mortal way,
In Runeforge long your work shall stay.
It sounds like we have been given a great number of clues to find the opening to this mysterious Runeforge, except the exact location to find it. The riddles speak of frozen mountains, so we may be traveling far to the north, beyond my geographical expertise. Perhaps Lai’Ki could shed some light on what “steaming mirror” represents. We will have to gather intelligence on the area and prepare accordingly. So, although we still want a closer look at the Old Light and maybe the other tunnels below the town, our near future looks like it may lead us to the reliquary of Thassilonian magical experimentation.
Our ultimate goal remains confronting Karzoug at Xin-Shalast, but we still have no good lead to his location and we may have additional foes to face if the other runelords awaken. I still hope a peaceful outcome can come of this, perhaps involving an accord between Karzoug and the leaders of the Varisian city-states, but any settlement may not be enough for the Runelord of Greed.
- Ever Yours, Epshi