Excerpted from the journal of Etaf Gerin
April 27, 1376 (The Year of the Bent Blade)
The last three days in the
village of the gnomes have been both enjoyable and disturbing. My companions and
I have all taken the time to hone our skills and even practice a few new tricks
that we’ve learned. I was even able to decipher a useful spell to command
undead creatures from the spellbook of a fallen Zhentarim wizard. But not
everything has gone so well. Over the last few days, everyone’s tempers have
begun to fray. Even the normally unquenchable cheer of the gnomes has begun to
sound forced. Without needing to discuss it, we all knew the cause – the
Fiend’s Embrace. Even locked away in our Bag of Holding, carried by a cleric
with the protection of Lathlander, the evil of that artifact could not be
contained.
This afternoon we made our
preparations to depart. At Omiata’s urging, and with the help of Telemas
Dreamweaver, I searched for any unwelcome magical effects on all of us. I found
nothing negative beyond the constant low-level evil emanations coming from the
Fiend’s Embrace. We packed up our gear – carefully making sure that nothing
relied on metal clasps or bindings. No one wanted to fight without pants the
next time the dwarf used the Axe of the Dales. Then we retired early, preparing
to leave early on the morrow.
April 28, 1376
We left the gnome village and
the Spiderhaunt Woods early the next morning. Soon we were out of the woods and
on the Tethyamar Trail, headed
north toward Daggerdale. The morning passed uneventfully, but shortly after
noon Ahmed stopped us with a warning. “I hear horses ahead,” he said. “Wait
here while I check it out.” We all dismounted, grateful for the break, as Ahmed
moved forward carefully toward a bend in the trail.
The ranger had barely started
to move when around the bend in the trail came a dozen Zhentarim horsemen!
Caught unmounted, we had no chance to flee – and no real desire, for these were
the enemy we had come to battle. At the rear of the enemy ranks stood a
familiar figure – Ilthon, the wizard that had take Randal Morn from the tower.
As the horsemen bore down on
us, Badaxe stepped forward, looking pathetically small comparing to the
charging horseman. But the dwarf had a weapon beyond mere physical stature.
“Merrydale!” he shouted, and the magic of the Axe of the Dales loosened all
bindings nearby – including those on the saddles of the Zhentarim! The entire
front rank fell in a heap of men, horses, and gear that had suddenly slipped
from its bindings. Those behind lost all focus on their attack as they
frantically tried to avoid trampling their comrades or being unhorsed
themselves.
We lost no time in seizing our
opportunity. Francis’ mace, Helieos’ mighty fists, Omiata’s deadly crossbox,
the ranger’s twin scimitars, and the Axe of the Dales made short work of the
disarrayed Zhentarim soldiers. I kept a careful eye on Ilthon, wary of any
magic he might hurl our way. But the Zhentarim wizard was clearly relying on
brute force, and the grimace on his face showed his opinion of the battle. As
the last soldier fell, he disappeared – teleported away.
That decisive victory over a
Zhentarim party lifted the foul mood that had been building ever since we had
retrieved the Fiend’s Embrace. Taking possession of a dozen sets of
good-quality armor and weapons, and the ten surviving warhorses, certainly
helped our mood as well. In good spirits, we continued our journey.
Near dusk, out journey was
interrupted by a blazing fireball streaking across the sky! It crashed to earth
only a few hundred yards away. We looked around for enemies, but saw none, so
Ahmed cautiously approached the impact site. The heat was intense, but he was
able to get close enough to see a small bottle in the center of the crater.
After a hurried consultation with the rest of us, he darted across the ruined
landscape, grabbed the bottle with gloved hands, and retreated to a safe
distance.
Before he could return to our
group, the bottle seemed to twist from his hand and fell – and a 13-foot tall,
black skinned figure stood before him! Flames danced across his skin, and his
eyes were like flaming pits. “Free at last!” he shouted in a voice like thunder.
“Free of those puny mortals that would enslave me!” He looked down at Ahmed,
who was frozen in surprise. “You, mortal – beg me for your miserable life!”
Ahmed overcame his surprise and exercised the better part of valor, making a
beeline for the rest of our group. But the demonic figure was in no mood to let
him go. With a flash, he disappeared, reappearing out of thin air in front of
the ranger! “Beg me, mortal! Or suffer!”
Badaxe saw an opportunity to
strike this creature while his back was turned, and rushed forward swinging his
axe. Fortunately he didn’t make much noise, because the blow completely missed
the creature! Seeing this, Ahmed finally gave in to the demands, and dropped to
his knees. “Oh great one, spare our miserable lives!” he cried.
The creature bellowed with
laughter and then flew off into the sky, leaving behind four very relieved
travelers and one enraged dwarf. “I’d have had him with the next blow! Come
back here and fight!” The rest of us just shook our heads at the obvious
futility of fighting someone – something – like that. Having narrowly escaped a
serious beating, perhaps even death, we continued a little way down the trail
and set up camp for the night.
April 29, 1376
Today we drew near to
Daggerdale and met the Freedom Riders, a group of Randal Morn’s more militant
followers. I am writing this from their camp, where we are staying the night.
Their leader, Captain Delmas, tells us that Randal Morn is to be executed in
mere days. The Riders plan to attack Daggerdale tomorrow, but they could use
some information about the Zhentarim in the city. Delmas is especially anxious
to free Randal and Daggerdale, since he has another concern as well – orcs and
goblins are roaming all over the countryside, causing havoc and destroying
everything in their path. Once Randal is freed and the Riders have their city
again, they will need to immediately meet this new threat.
We, of course, volunteered to
go in at dawn tomorrow and reconnoiter. Hopefully the information we find will
help the Riders take the city with minimal casualties. All of us – except
Ahmed, who went off somewhere with one of the female Riders – are about to turn
in and get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow may finally be the day that we find
Randal Morn.
April 30, 1376
We may not have a very bright
future as spies, judging from our experience in Daggerdale. We found Dulwar, a
sympathetic leathermaker just outside the city, with no problems, just as
Delmas had directed us. But Dulwar knew little, and as we left his shop, we
were stopped by a group of guards. Before we could fight back, they gassed us
and stripped us of weapons. I myself was knocked completely unconscious and
knew no more until I awoke, chained to the floor in a room full of torture implements
and sneering guards.
I was the last to awaken – my
companions conveyed to me in whispers that all of our weapons were nearby
except for the Axe of the Dales. Unfortunately, no amount of brute strength
from the monk and dwarf, escape attempts by the thief and ranger, or devout
prayer from the cleric had yet loosened them. The guards merely laughed
whenever we made any attempt to break free.
I had barely recovered my wits
when a huge man entered the room – carrying the Axe! Badaxe immediately began
to shout “Merrydale!” The magic of loosening chains worked only for the wielder
of the Axe, but that didn’t stop the dwarf, who continued to chant it over and
over. Ignoring the dwarf, the man said, “I am the constable of this town, and
you are all enemies of the Zhentarim! Tell me of the plans of the Freedom
Riders, and I might be convinced to let you die quickly.” He continued in this
vein for some time, and all the while Badaxe continued his chant. Finally, the
constable aimed a kick at the dwarf and shouted, “Stop saying Merrydale!”
As he spoke the final work,
all our chains fell to the floor! At the exact same moment chaos erupted as a
giant boom sounded from outside the room, followed by the sounds of battle –
the Freedom Fighters had attacked! The guards wavered, unable to choose between
securing the prisoners and investigating the noise outside. We bolted for our
weapons while the guards were distracted – except for Helieos and Badaxe, both
of whom scorned such niceties as weapons and simply laid into the guards with
bare fists. The constable raised the Axe to strike at the unarmored dwarf, but
before the blow could fall, Ithlon the wizard appeared from thin air and seized
the Axe! Instantly a bolt of lightning flew from the Axe and flung the wizard to
the floor, wounding the constable badly in the process.
Before anyone could make
another attempt to seize the weapon, a mist rose from the Axe and coalesced
into the she-devil known as Gothyl! Just as Helieos
and Francis had seen in their dreams, and as Omiata
had been warned, Gothyl emerged from her hiding place in the Axe when the
time was ripe to conquer. She immediately attacked Ithlon, and though the
wizard was powerful, he clearly was losing the battle.
Badaxe snatched up the Axe of
the Dales. Francis dived for the Bag of Holding, sitting under a pile of our
other gear. Securing it, he opened the bag and quickly brought out the Fiend’s
Embrace just as Gothyl landed her final blow against the hapless Ithlon.
Turning quickly with the Embrace held out before him, Francis shouted to the
dwarf, “Destroy it! Quickly!” Badaxe did not hesitate a moment. A mighty blow
of the Axe tore the evil garment in two. Gothyl let out a despairing scream
that shook the very stone walls of the prison, then faded away into nothing.
That scream stunned me for
some time. When I was aware of my surroundings again, my companions had not
only defeated the remaining guards, but also found a secret room that contained
none other than Randal Morn! There was no time to celebrate the completion of
our quest, however. The sounds of battle still raged outside. We donned our
arms and armor and went to the aid of the Freedom Fighters. The mere presence
of Randal Morn caused the Freedom Fighters to redouble their efforts in battle,
and the Zhentarim were soon defeated.
That evening we celebrated
with the Freedom Fighters. A great victory had been won over the Zhentarim, and
Randal Morn once again ruled his city. Our quest was over, a job well done.
May 1, 1376
Today Randal Morn held a
victory banquet for all his friends and subjects. Elminster himself was
present, and fulfilled the promises Lhaeo had made to us weeks ago by granting
each of us ten acres of land in Shadowdale. He also was kind enough to cast a
glamour on the Fiend’s Embrace at my request – I only hope it is powerful
enough to fool Oahbe into thinking the evil artifact is still whole.
Randal Morn was even more
generous. To our group he ceded the title to Quasqueton Keep and its
surrounding lands, on his northern border. The keep has not been occupied for
two centuries, but is still in good repair, since one of its previous owners
was a wizard of great power. We need only reclaim it from whatever bandits or
monsters now reside there, and it will be ours as long as we guard it well.
We will stay in Daggerdale for
a time to rest and celebrate our success. Soon, though, we will go to our keep
and stake our claim to it. And once we have secured a home base, I will find a
way to rescue Dreiw and defeat Oahbe so he can never threaten us again…
Last updated 06-14-2005 by Skip Franklin
