Amnesia

A week of relaxing

By the Mouth
4th of Flamerule 1479

Well I’m not broke for once, I’ve even managed the get a shitload of stuff! But it’s time to leave again. The others are getting restless. Tomorrow we leave. They gave me my week and it’s been good for all of us. We have been able to rest, find our own pursuits and make what fun can be found in this sober town. A busy time for some, less for others. We invited and welcomed Autumnto our merry band.

On the 26th of Kythorn, 1479, Book, Guardianand I visited the city’s prison again… At least we were the ones doing the interrogation. That being said, the ork was not difficult, he delivered King Jark‘s message. Now there’s a clever one. He definitely got our attention by dangling that information about the raven-haired girl that we were working for in exchange to helping clear out some new portion of his keep. Also, I’m curious as too what he offered the Purple Dragons, they won’t say what their deal is. Well, I warned them that I can’t take into consideration what I don’t know. At least I seem to have convinced the others that this is the most important lead that we have.

Book was keep busy this past week with creating some magical gear for us, teaching Autumn some magic and then using magic to investigate the Fetters. Some more details about them were found.

Autumn and I had a talk with Uncle War Wizard Droste while he was on his constitutional walk. It was interesting. He confirmed most of our thoughts and suspicions. Mostly, that magic can create our situation and that it’s unlikely that the War Wizards of Cormyr had anything to do with it. Although it’s now evident to me that we are being played. I simply can figure out the angle … yet.

So many unknown… Mad Gods, prophets, prophecies, our lost memories.

On the 29th of Kythorn, 1479 some assassins from House Thresk tried to kill Healerand me in our sleep. And the worst is he dared put a poisoned blade to my throat. NO ONE puts a poisoned blade to my throat. Ha! that didn’t stop me, but he shall pay for that insolence.

Although, Healer almost didn’t make it again. He needs to be more careful. The leader of those assassins really had a hard on for him. His troops were no match for the Defender, the Fey and Book, but it took everything the Healer and I had to keep the Healer alive. It certainly made a ruckus. I wonder what he said. It was certainly a big speech before he tried to kill us. Too bad he got away with his insolent thrice cursed neck-stabbing flunky, but he was memorable enough and should be easy to find, then Paer Pyrn Shalol is next.

It was nice to turn the table on that sanctimonious Horselord Trigg. For once, I was minding my own business when all hell broke lose and I had nothing to do with it. I got to ask him how he could let a dozen assassins into a heavily defended military outpost!! That felt good. Never a good thing to antagonize the fuzz, but what are you going to do!? Except kill that Paer Pyrn Shalol.

I’ve also spent the time playing cards with my friend Samm and his squad of purple knights in training. I’ve gotten to know then as well as possible.

I’ve also spent some time in Kr’Chik’s bar, just letting people get used to seeing me. I’ve also been scouring the city for some information… something for business and something special for my plans.

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Off to the dungeon … Again

26th of Kythorn, 1479

On a crisp mountain morning, the three of you make your way to the Purple Dragon Knights’ dungeon. No need to ask for directions having spent some time there yourselves in the past. It takes some times for the Knights to arrange your visit, as they confirm your identity, fetch an officer, and let you through various security layers, but you are eventually seated in a room with a chained and hobbled orc surrounded by four guards, a young knight who introduced himself as Sir Alak Brightshield, and a scribe. Sir Brightshield explains that while you are being allowed to talk with the prisoner, he can and will stop the interview should he feel the need to. He also tells you that the scribe will be taking notes for Lord Trigg.

You look the orc up and down. He has the build of a warrior and is obviously uncomfortable in the simple tunic he has been given to wear. He does not appear to have been physically mistreated; although, it’s obvious from the lack of odour and his constant scratching that there have been attempts to wash him. When he sees you, he smiles an ugly, gap-toothed, smile. He has a surprisingly pleasant, low, rumbly, voice, but his grasp of common:

“Finally… I wait here one whole moon for your return. Is good shaman said you come or I go before. Good, King Jark send me make you offer. We open new part of palace, but more mirrors. At night, creatures come out of mirror and attack us again. You break mirror, he talk about black haired girl or give treasure. For Knights, he offer agreement, inside Rogg shoe.”

Crunch: you have until tomorrow night to interact with our little guest. After that, I’ll assume you take your leave.

By Cardinalis

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A Stunning Revelation
The Historian's What

As usual, well, maybe, when faced with a riddle, Book can’t sleep. He keeps turning the puzzle in his head, hoping to find a new angle of approach wich will provide the solution. Frankly, he was sure that his divination ritual on the Fetters would provide answers, not more questions. Surely, the Forgotten now have more threads to fit into the tapestry of their past, but it’s still not enough. A voice in his mind, a voice which he can only hear when he is between sleep and wakefulness, a voice he remembers hearing for the first time only some months ago, in a nearby cave, tells him that the answer lies with the items that resisted his arcane sight.

Find the connection.

Seven Fetters stunned him: earrings, idol, journal, painting, ring, shield and wand.

Find the connection.

His mind shut down when probing for the earrings’ last, pre-amnesia, whereabouts, the idol and the shield’s last use, and the acquisition of the journal, the painting, the ring and the wand.

Find the connection.

The Fey suggested, and, after consideration, Book agrees, that these obstacles can only stem from within him. That is, whatever is blocking his memory is likely blocking his divination attempts.

Find the connection.

Book’s thoughts start moving faster. Having established that the blockage only prevents them from remembering private experiences. As the blockage was affecting him and not the ritual, it stands to reason that it functionned in an identical manner.

Find the connection.

If they belonged to his companions and they spent more than a couple of days together, it is quite likely that he would have witnessed the last use of the shield and idol. It is most likely that the earrings were within his sight just before he lost his memory. He doesn’t like making so many assumptions, but the voice keeps egging him on.

Almost there.

If he can’t view the moment of acquisition by the last, pre-amnesia, owner of the journal, the painting, the ring and the wand, he must have personally witnessed the event.

Mine!

Well, there is no garantee…

Mine!

He might have simply been around when…

Mine!

Absentmindedly, Book has started playing with the signet ring he slipped on before leaving the cave. “Mine.”

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The Historian - Log 3 - One of Those Days
Autumn's Homecoming

25th of Kythorn, 1479

Of all the things I could have expected from Autumn’s homecoming, I must admit that an inn patron letting loose a stunning screech, morphing into a wererat and jumping out of the establishment’s front window was not among them. The patron being our old friend Kr’Chik, we of course followed in pursuit.

This course of action was made difficult by the adoring masses that flocked to the inn in order to welcome Autumn home just to be subject to Kr’Chik’s disorienting shout. I zigzagged between the stunned citizens. Looking back, I could see The Guardian elbowing his way through the crowd as The Fey blinked in and out of existence to make her own way across the plaza. However, it is Autumn who took point as she successfully navigated around the crowd and sprinted after her former kidnapper. The Mouth and The Healer would follow only later, as their heightened elven senses proved to be particularly vulnerable to the effects of Kr’Chik’s cry.

Leaving the street, Kr’Chik fled into a blacksmith’s workshop with Autumn in hot pursuit. By the time I made it to the door, the wererat had thrown a bucket of water onto the forge, filling the area with scalding steam. A few words, a short cantrip, and the obstacle was pushed aside on a puff of wind. The Guardian, The Fey and I arrived in the courtyard beyond to find our quarry with his feet frozen in blocks of ice and his way barred by an angry druid. Ever the resourceful one, Kr’Chik managed to free himself and evade his temporary gaoler before we three could assist her. Nonetheless, the delay had allowed The Mouth to catch up and the five of us were right on his tail.

Kr’Chik’s next trick was to hastily sneak by a company of Purple Dragon Knights, forcing us to go through their ranks in order to continue our pursuit. While this would later prove to be the most troublesome of his antics, at the time a simple Ghost Sound spell was sufficient to draw the guard’s attention away while most of us scurried through. Others chose to circumnavigate the knights by taking a parallel street.

We came again upon Kr’Chik as he attempted to make his way across the rooftops in order to escape. Channelling my own vertigo, I conjured a Phantasmal Chasm at his feet – misleading Kr’Chik into thinking he had missed his jump, stopping him in his tracks. The illusion was made even more real when The Fey used her own magic to pull him off the roof and at our feet. Cornered and about to be captured by the Guardian, Kr’Chik drew upon hidden magical reserves and unexplainably teleported out of our reach. And soon he was running across the rooftops again. We pursued until the warehouse district, where he morphed into his rat form and slithered out of sight in a stockroom below.

The six of us – The Healer having finally managed to catch up – split up to search for the rodent. I must confess that, despite the use of my magical eyewear, I mistook a regular rat for our lycanthropic friend and completely lost the scent. Then, I got caught in an ambush.

Though The Guardian and The Mouth managed to track Kr’Chik to his destination, the rest of us were waylaid by some of Kr’Chik’s cronies while still in the warehouse district. Unbeknownst to me, the Fey and the Healer were facing assailants on the rooftops. In the streets below, Autumn and I were trapped in a narrow alleyway. Autumn caused a tremor, tripping her assailant and opening the way. I used this opportunity to first dispatch my own assailant, and then jump over the prone foe. I continued to run until I arrived to a plaza where I found The Guardian and The Mouth stuck in a melee with more of Kr’Chik’s minions.

The battle in the plaza was short, but bloody. We subdued our assailants and entered the inn where Kr’Chik had taken refuge. The innkeeper pointed us to the cellar, where Kr’Chik kept us in check with a barrel-trap and urged us to talk. From him, we learned that he is Autumn’s half-sister’s father. He also pointed us to the Forgotten Thane for additional information concerning our quest, revealed he is Autumn’s father former adventuring companion and told us we can leave a message for him with the innkeeper should we need to talk again.

Back at the The Only Inn in Town, we had an… uncomfortable encounter with Horselord Trigg . Our reputation with the city’s Purple Guard went from bad to worse. However, Trigg’s curiosity concerning an errant orc resulted in an invitation to visit the local prison on the morrow. Shortly after, the Mouth got a visit from his Purple Dragon Knight contact. The rest of us retired to our rooms, leaving Autumn free to have a heart-to-heart with her father.

And just now, as I prepared to chronicle the day’s events prior to retiring for the night, a strip of paper fell from one of my books. It reads, in Undercommon: “House Tresk works for the Dark King, Please do not involve me any further – Gendar”.

Tomorrow will be a better day. For one thing, we will get to collect our reward from Siv and Div. Finally, I will have the financial backing to pursue my arcane studies. But first, I must gather my notes on the Fetters and make a comprehensive report of my findings…

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Historian - Log 2 - Musings
"Seek the Raven Where the Grain Swims"

As to the puzzle of our identities, I think I may have found a corner piece. Had I not found myself distracted of late, it would surely have come sooner. There is no other place where river gave way to fertile land. Where water now flows from marshland to field in order to irrigate the golden crop. A place where every bard sings of cereal:

“Furrow by furrow, and fold by fold,
The soil is turned on the plain;
Better than silver and better than gold
Is the surface-mine of the grain;
Better than cattle and better than sheep
In the fight with drought and heat;
For a streak of stubbornness, wide and deep,
Lies hid in a grain of Wheat.

When the stock is swept by the hand of fate,
Deep down in his bed of clay
The brave brown Wheat will lie and wait
For the resurrection day:
Lie hid while the whole world thinks him dead;
But the Spring-rain, soft and sweet,
Will over the steaming paddocks spread
The first green flush of the Wheat.

Green and amber and gold it grows
When the sun sinks late in the West;
And the breeze sweeps over the rippling rows
Where the quail and the skylark nest.
Mountain or river or shining star,
There’s never a sight can beat—
Away to the sky-line stretching far—
A sea of the ripening Wheat. "

Excerpt from the Song of the Wheat by the bard Andrew Barton Paterson

I am certain of it! The Prophecy refers to Marsember. Perhaps the Mouth will know who among the personalities of Marsember most resembles a raven.

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Returning Home
Amnesia S03E01

The sun is low as the Forgotten make their way on the last leg of the road to Eagle Peak. Autumn rides a few meters ahead of the group in quiet anticipation of the reunion she’s been dreaming of for more than a year. The Healer, holding a scrollcase, calls out to her: “It was certainly nice of Mika to give us this treasure map.”
-Hmm. Her family doesn’t have much, but she said she couldn’t let us go without thanking us. It might be nothing. Her husband found it buried in their field. They were keeping it, but it wasn’t like they were likely to abandon their family to go off in search of treasure.
The Fey sneers, marring her pretty face.
-Well, I, for one, think it’s the absolute least she could do. We risked our lives for her and in exchange we got an old piece of paper which might lead to Shar-knows-what.
-We might not know what but my preliminary evaluation of the geopolitical powers depicted on the parchment certainly suggests when and where. I’d say we’re looking at the outskirts of the the Elven Court, preceding the Refounding.
-Bah, Book, I know what it leads to!
-Do enlighten us Mouth, says the Guardian with a long-suffering look.
-To adventure, of course, my stocky friend!
The party’s laughter is short-lived as they almost stumble into Autumn’s mount. They look up to see what she’s staring at and there, in the distance, they can make out Eagle Peak’s outline. They’ve barely had time to register the fact before Autumn’s leaps off at a gallop.

The Historian, the Guardian, the Healer, the Mouth and the Fey catch up to Autumn at the gate.
-You tell that Bane-blessed bookworm to let me through immediately Tunny, or the next time you see my sister she’ll have grandkids!
A young conscript is looking sheepishly from Autumn to a War Wizard apprentice muttering on the wall.
-Look Autumn, I’m sure it’ll only take a second, he says he has to check something with Droste
And indeed, the wizard finally nods and waves everyone through.
-Shoot. Please don’t tell your dad I made you wait…
But Autumn doesn’t hear him as she hustles through the gate making her way down the main concourse to her father’s inn. Locals start massing and following the party, quietly looking up at Autumn. The mob reaches the inn in the middle of dinner service, noise can be heard through the door. Autumn and her companions step through the door into a warm room. Bessie, serving a table near the entrance looks up and pauses. Recognizing her sister, she drops her tray, breaking some plates, and brings her hand to her mouth. A hush falls over the room. Rashek, behind the bar, turns around to see what’s happening. He sees Bessie and follows her gaze and, finally, his eyes turn to Autumn.
-Dad… Daddy…
He roars and, in a single leap, jumps over the bar to reach her. He takes her in his arms, lifting her to the heavens both laughing and crying tears of joy, before bringing her in for the quintessential bear hug. The common room is transformed into a painting as everyone, unable to interrupt such a pure expression of love and joy, becomes paralyzed. Well, almost everyone…

Kr’chik sprints and leaps through the front window, out into the street. As he jumps, his body goes through a monstrous transformation, his neck becoming as large as his head, his face turning into a snout, his back sprouting a horrible fleshy tail, and from his toothy maw escapes an inhumanly loud high-pitched squeal. The patrons clasp their ears, stunned by the sharp sound.

…Roll for initiative Monkey-Boys.

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Last Season on Amnesia
A Much-Needed Recap

So, here’s what you missed on Amnesia. After finding out from King Jark that Rashek’s daughter, Autumn, had been sold to the Bloodreavers, a group of slavers operating in the Seven-Pillared Hall under Thunderspire Peak, the forgotten accepted a mission to rescue the girl and, at the request of Siv and Div’s mysterious client, keep Rashek acting as normal. That same night, The Guardian‘s past got everyone involved with a secret cult of cyricists. This didn’t stop them from leaving, eventually at least, plus they got a cool prophecy out of it. Maybe this could help them remember who they are. An ankheg and a slaver ambush later, the Forgotten reach the Seven-Pillared Hall just in time to spot a group of suspiciously familiar goblins. The party gives chase and eventually engage the goblins and the pet troll they kept in the Labyrinth, the area surrounding the Hall. The Fey gets a little carried away and discovers that even goblin spears can be deadly. Contemplating their pyrrhic victory (read a book), the adventurers make their way back to the Seven-Pillared Hall, only to become embroiled in another fight, earning them the gratitude of one Rendill Halfmoon at the cost of one Healer. Luckily, Rendill introduces them to Phaledra, a priestess of Torm, who returns the Fey and the Healer to the world of the living, in exchange for a large amount of money and one a small favour. The adventurers bring glimpses of their true identity from the other side. During their stay, the Mouth and the Guardian make friends with the locals. The whole party cures a lycanthropy-afflicted guide and with his help finally reach the Bloodreaver’s base to save Autumn, who, conveniently enough, had already begun saving herself. To the Forgotten’s dismay, Autumn refused to return to Eagle Peak without first rescuing Mika, a fellow captive she had befriended and who had been sold to duergar. It takes two trips and a bout of unconsciousness for the Mouth, but they convince the duergar to release the slaves they had purchased only to discover that Mika and two other slaves have been taken deeper into the Labyrinth by a demon-worshipping cult of gnolls (easy, right?). Much to the Fey’s dismay, the heroes chose to escort the newly-freed slaves (most of them, anyways) back to the Hall before heading to the Well of Demons. In the Hall, the Mouth learns that the Well of Demons was a holy testing ground for the minotaurs who built the Labyrinth. He is also approached by Orontor, one of the Mages of Saruun, masters of the Hall, for help in apprehending Paldemar: a renegade. The Mouth and the Guardian both express interest in the mission, the former for a reward and the latter because it seems fated. Regardless, the party heads to the Well of Demons, pass the deadly tests, driving back a dragon (that’s right, I’m yadding the best part), and confront the gnoll cultists’ leader, Haldrik, in the middle of a ritual meant to reconsecrate the Well to the tribe’s own demon-lord. Defeating him and his fiendish minions, the Forgotten prevent the sacrifices of Mika and two other slaves and also discover letters linking the cult to Paldemar and a magical key to his base of operation. They quickly return to camp, left alone by most of the Labyrinth’s denizens either because of their growing reputation or some residual enchantment from the Well of Demons. From there, they follow their key to a teleportation circle, wherein they confront what they believe is a representation of Cyric who allows them through not without a few games. On the other side, the party discovers that Paldemar’s base of operation is actually a tower dedicated to the mad god. They fight the flunkies guarding the lower levels, make their way up and finally challenge Paldemar, who indeed was trying to gain control of the Seven-Pillared Hall through the use of the Bronze Guardians the minotaurs had left scattered throughout the Labyrinth. Victory is hard won, but dealing the finishing blow, the Guardian notices a slip of paper stuck between the fingers of his weapon hand and, has he falls, another strip slips falls from Paldemar’s hand. The former reads “Orontor Doubts” and the latter “Go South”. Back in the Hall, Orontor gives the Mouth 900 gp and a magical amulet (Keicha’s Amulet +2). After spending a few days spent resting at the Halfmoon Inn, the party heads out for Eagle Peak… And, that’s what you missed on Amnesia.

Stay tuned for a brand new episode, after the break.

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Kicking in the Duergar's Two Front Teeth and Getting Back

Aaaahh finally a bit of relaxation!! Hot bath, good good, soft bed, no slow ass people slowing you down and lots of shops, info and gossip to peruse through town. :-)

[Relaxing, mellow and with a drink] Ya that last jaunt in the Labyrinth was just alright, I started off beautifully with an assault on a duergar stronghold, but it got painful at the end there. God-damned lizard priest!! How dare he knock me out. And worst luck, Guardian did not get him. I think we should make a point to go back and pound his ass!

At least the Forgotten are pretty scrupulous. They don’t even seem to be rifling through my pockets when I’m out. Although I’m going to have to talk to them about being more carful with handling me while I’m unconscious! How the hell did I get this significant gash in my neck?! Nice scar thought.

Well at least now we know who has Autumn’s friend. The gnolls. Nah, shouldn’t be worst then everything else we’ve done here. Although trading for and then saving a dozen slaves from the Duegar was something new. Especially after assaulting their stronghold, not once, but twice! Good times. But WOW!, was it ever difficult to bring them back up to the Seven Pillared Hall. Of course it would have been so much easier if the tunnel hadn’t collapse on the path we knew. No, we had to take a new unexplored path in underdark! Those people are so slow!!! People like that shouldn’t be allowed down here, they almost all died. They’re lucky that we were there for them. What with the zombies that were excavating the cavern. Although they weren’t so tough, good fight. Hmmm I wonder what mad thought or trinket drove then to such lengths as undeath? Probably treasure. Surely some treasure. We should make a stop by there and have a quick look… it’s not far… maybe alter our route on one of these excursions…

Then we wore attacked by that spectral baby dragon. That was a tough one. How the hell are we suppose to protect a dozen people from something that attack you through the walls when we are crossing a bridge!!! And then having to kill the wraiths of the killed people. Loads of fun. I tell you, it can lead a man to drink. That’s without counting the giant centipede that were looking for a snack and digging holes in our path!

Then we got to that temple with the lizard-men. They weren’t all that tough, except they had a fucking angel with them. And that F@#$ shaman knocked me out and survived!!! Worst we didn’t even get to loot the place. Temples always have great loot. (sigh). I wonder what he was doing in there with that big bowl of blood…

At least we got the people back to the city. I’m happy they’re free. Being a prisoner or slave doesn’t seem like much fun. And I must admit it was real nice of them to let me have the new armour. I LOVE IT!. It’s awesome. That guy’s dad is super cool.

I wonder how much we’ll get for Paldemar. His buddies don’t like him and screwing up a good deal always makes people pay well for revenge! Hope we can find him.

Then my source here in the hall brought me a message. Some people are looking to get away from the duergars and their masters. I have a good feeling about this. But maybe I better bring the rest of the gang. First to lay down some false leads and ask a lot of questions about gnolls. Then off to meet with the informants. Turned out it was an ambushed. Big surprised. LOL, they should have prepared something better then that. Amateurs! And they paid the usual price for crossing me, of course. Trying to surprise a drow in the dark!!! Stupid. With only a minotaur golem and two fire and mind assassins. Stupid. It is nice though when people make my life easy. And good thing they had that nice map for us. :-) Got to remember to take more prisoners. Plus who knows, we could always sell them back to someone… if we can only stop pissing off the people of questionable character!!! I must say I know this meeting was going to get us the information we needed. Now if only I could find that Shadow dragon rumoured to be around here. Or Paldemar. Now, those should be … Interesting to put my hand on….

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A Walk Down Memory Lane
Autumn's "Where"

All this time away from her father has turned Autumn’s thoughts to the first time they spent a significant amount of time apart. Autumn must have been roughly five and this was shortly after her mother had left their lives. Uncle Droste had come into the Inn and spoken for some minutes with her father when he suddenly exploded screaming and crying all at once.

“There’s no way I’m going to go see those bastards!”

The common room got quiet and every local customer except for Div (or Siv) and Kr’chik quickly found somewhere else to be. In the commotion, Autumn couldn’t make out Droste’s whispered response. Her father and his friend argued for a couple of hours more and she couldn’t tell for sure from her room (Bessie had quickly scooped her up and brought her away), but, at some point, it seemed like Kr’chik and the halfling also chimed in.

The next morning, Rashek explained to his daughters that he had to go to Suzail and that Siv would take care of them and the inn for a short period. When she pressed for more details, he told Bessie that he had to visit their mother’s parents and discuss things, but, in tears, Autumn lost track of what followed.

She hadn’t thought of that day in a long time and, today, it’s funny to her that, at the time, so sad was she that her daddy was leaving her for the first time, she didn’t even think to ask about the grandparents she had never met. Now, she can’t help but think that, if she makes it out of here, she should make a point of visiting them and maybe ask them why they never met or who her mother was.

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Historian - Log 1 - Contrition

I am ashamed. My hubris has cost another his life.

How we managed to successfully raid a Duergar outpost and rescue their current complement of slaves still escapes me, but I cannot deny the evidence nor can I refuse the responsibility of guiding them back to civilization and freedom. Already we have travelled for more than half a day and in within those few hours I have gone from the exaltation of ascendancy to the darkest depths of self-pity.

We overcame the first hurdle with flying colours. With the Guardian and the Fey staying behind with our protégés, the Mouth, the Healer, Autumn and myself taking vanguard positions. As we travelled through abandoned ruins – whose architecture I would definitely classify as early 600 pre-Carolingian work despite the bead and reel motifs found on the engaged columns – we were beset by what I can best describe as a trio incorporeal spirits as well as a monstrous ooze of the Quadratus mollis genome. And despite being briefly engulfed by said cube – must remember to thank the Mouth for the timely save – I considered this confrontation a great triumph. Not only had I dealt the finishing blow to two of the spirits as well as the ooze, but had also come upon an intriguing tablet partially covered by Supernal script.

I was still thinking of the puzzling tablet when my allies turned to me for guidance out of the caves. And instead of applying myself fully to the task, I brushed off this task as something trivial, making careless rookies mistakes in the process; first mistaking the moss Andreaeobryopsida for its more common cousin Andreaeopsida lost us more than an hour as we headed west instead of east and then failing to warn our cohort of the dangers inherent to crossing a stone bridge formations. I should have kept in mind that these folk have previously never experienced life in the Underdark nor studied its lore. And I should never have erroneously have made our group cross that crevasse. Because of me a man is dead, robbed of his life and his hope for freedom.

That I later put my magical abilities to good use, blasting at zombies as they attacked my companions and putting their leader to rest through a most lucky shot of arcane power, is but small consolation. My mind is now back on my task, using my knowledge of local history to navigate a complex dedicated to the god Ghaunadaur now that the Mouth was able to persuade the remaining slaves in trusting me again. I swear I will do everything in my power to bring them all out alive. And to make reparations to the one that will not.

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