Thursday, February 2, 2012

A Dwarf's Limit

Bazil the Dancing Sorcerer's Journal - Entry 1

My name is Bazil Eisen, known as the Dancing Sorcerer. This is my simple journal, beginning with our trek into Stonehell. These observations and experiences come at great cost; should we fail, maybe our legacy will live on for those who stand against evil. To think that we began this quest simply to restore our compatriots lost limbs...

My memories of the begining delve into Stonehell are fading fast. With only the some rough notes we purchased and the account of one Deacon Silver, we entered the former prison. Within we skirmished with a small group of kobolds. I charmed one of these filthy beings in hopes of discerning some information about the area; he was a sorrowful little shit and, once ensorcelled, had a bright spark in his eye that I knew might prove fruitful to our endeavor. As Nain spoke some of the kobold tongue we beseeched him to confer some simple instructions to the wretch.

That's when the little bugger grinned like a cheshire and bolted. As Nain's quick hammer took the kobold in the back of the skull, I wondered how could I have been so mistaken that the kobold had been enchanted? Had I made the sign of the monkey rising rather than the horse a-gallop? Oh well, it was just a kobold.

We explored further and found a deep well, knowing that hope of restoring our friends, as well as my personal compulsion from Xyrlac lie deeper in the depths of Stonehell, we descended. We were soon surpised to come upon a room of humans. One instantly took a liking to our night cap bedecked halfling and we began to notice that none of these humans were of sound mind. Had they descended from slaves of Stonehell? We began to ask them questions, of the plated mage, of this 'Lachesis' mentioned in the scribbles, of anything. The most reoccuring theme we could tell is that they all paid homage to someone known as 'big daddy'...

Sadly we soon set them off into a cacophony of screams, jeers, wails and lamentations. One ran off to a large 'jack-in-the-box' type chest and began turning a huge lever omniously. As Klint slew his would-be mother, Big Daddy appeared and was revealed to be a huge crazy in full armor. The giant of a man charged out and struck down poor Rhodor, Ozmo's charmed guard. Soon though he fell to the blades and spells of the party. Within Big Daddy's box we found disgusting living conditions, excrement and a handful of coins and rinds of bread.

Pushing on further we discovered a fascinating room, scrawled with equations and diagrams on every surface. It was so obvious a sign! I studied it and attempted my best to discern where the inevitable conclusion of the formula would end up. It spiraled and weaved, dodged and blurred, every next line revealing a new clue yet contradicting something previous. If I only had more time! Alas, my compadres pulled me from my study and we crossed into another room where they found a bonepile chained to the wall. Of course this attacked, it was a bonepile, duh! Sadly we were not able to discern the cause of this and after being assailed we moved on.

Delving deeper we found more chambers and passages, we discovered a statue's head inside a room impossibly small for the results of such a beheading. Past which we found a trove of foul urns, goblets and jars. As Klint, Bazil and Ozmo discerned that we may have found clues to where we lie in relation to our goals, Nain rushed forward...

I must take a moment and mention that I've begun to study the fortitude of a dwarf, namely the constitution of one Nain Bloodclotter. I've never seen someone as compulsed to put anything and everything into his mouth and gullet. Nor have I imagined those things that he has survived. Upon finding these vessels of putrid alcohol he began chugging. Disgusting does not begin to describe the scene. Amazingly enough at the bottom of the jug that he drank from he found a gold coin. We began to pour out the rest of the rotten liquid and found a treasure of coin within, Nain did his best to catch as many drops of the drink as possible.

Beyond all understanding, the dwarf was able to keep his stomach as we exited the resting place of the head. We passed a scrawled message on a nearby door 'Disturb not the slumber of it', paying heed (and following a drunken dwarf) we made haste to sections of the prison we believed our purchased map had outlined. Rushing onward we entered a gigantic hallway or room with ceilings far out of sight, and, as is common with rooms such as these... were attacked by giant spiders descending from above.

Bloodmallet, Dan Ger and Twitch made short work of the arachnids and we soon discovered to the south the remains of a fallen dwarf under some rubble. As a party we tend to follow our clerics in situations such as these, we looted his corpse and I think Nain may have taken another swig (against all known medical advice given his state of intoxication).

Quicksilver. Mercury. Vaedium. A fountain bubbled full of the precious material. As a student of all things arcane I cannot say that I've ever seen such amounts of it, nor can I say that I remember much of my studies of it. Sadly we attempted to push further forward and a few of us were only able to fill some small containers of the stuff.

I believe it was just past this time when Klint and Solmil were encouraging us to strike further along the path on the map, when our fully filled dwarf found some sorry sod's meal forgotton on the stone. Being who and what Nain is, he ate the lunch without thinking twice and quaffed the flask within the small sack.

This is the first time I've ever seen Nain Bloodclotter, priest of something or other for winos, pass the hell out. Hard.

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