Abridged History of the 10th Age

??? Furrow?

"...and when the blood was cleared from our steel we had only to journey into their camp to find the stolen treasures of the dwarven crypt..."

From the Journals of Patrius atte Loitre, late of Summerdown in the Blackwood Forrest…

Being the continuance of Part One…

Into the depths we crept, further down, and then up through the strange and cold corridors of dwarven make. Guided by the undying light of the lantern Aldous found in a previous chamber, we made our way into a room perched high on the mountainside, with notched windows like one would find in a castle; but hewn directly from the living rock.

A strange chill betook us then, a cold and unnatural wind: and before my eyes a sight unlike any before took hold.

Out of thin air appeared the visage of two elders of the dwarves. They were kingly beings, rendered in light and shadow as if flesh and blood- but their steps made no sound, their voices carried no warmth, and they were of no substance at all.

At first terror struck us all still- no one moved, and we minced words, as the specters spouted off in strange and foreign sounding tongues. For a moment, they came at us, making perhaps to inflict some strange and mysterious curse…

...but quickly, Ingrid, Askelor and I started picking out pieces of Orthr. I suppose that dwarves from such long ago ages must have spoken with tongues not unlike today, but still quite different. AT any rate, both parties soon adjusted themselves until a natural dialogue could be had.

It was as I thought- they were kings of dwarves, long dead, set upon this place to protect or hold vigil over it’s precious relics. They knew of the intrusion that had sent us here, and also of our honest intentions- it was with their blessing that we made camp in that airy room, and they told us of a mechanical device that could disarm the traps that awaited us in the depths of the crypt.

The next morning we headed back to town, restocked our supplies, and prayed. Without waste, we made for the crypt’s devilish bowels, and the journey was a terrifying one at that!

Specters and winds, strange prints. We came upon screams, and horrible wormish things that had skin like leather. Before we knew it, we were in a terse battle betwixt them and the vicious wolves that prowled the cavernous basement.

But our might prevailed, and we sook out the source of the screaming…

...it seems the grave-robbers that defiled this place were even more heartless than we could have imagined- they left their comrade to be eaten by those worm-like thing we battled with in the adjoining room. He was a horrible sight-they had chewed away his face and left it a gaping gruesome wound. But our magic was strong, and revived him, though I dare say he is a horrible sight at any rate.

Acting as our guide, the revengeful wizard Theylon led us to the camp of his co-conspirators, and we waged a quick and decisive fight: in a few moments Askelor and I had slain their leader and Aldous was wrestling with an armored foe. But Theylon’s clever deception and a well placed spell had drawn them out confused and unawares- we made quick work of them all, and when the blood was cleared from our steel we had only to journey into their camp to find the stolen treasures of the dwarven crypt.

I wish I could say that we returned to Bracstone Height with some little fanfare and excitement- after all, we had lost a keen and honorable ally in Rowan. But when the four remaining members of Sword &Sorcery returned, sweating, with that precious cart of riches and relics, we found the town seemingly deserted…

...a quiet, disturbing stillness has wrought the once bustling atmosphere of Bracstone Height to a halt.

Could we be returning riches to a town of ghosts?

I for one has seen enough specters this week. Let us hope things are not as they seem…

Patrius atte Loitre, Unknown, X501



I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.