I have had a strange epiphany, one that questions me to my core… I feel but a chess piece on a greater board. The idea strikes me that perhaps it has always been so. The triumphs and failures of my life are not truly my own, rather the contrivances of “greater” beings. I have always acknowledged the existence of the gods but, but had felt they left the day to day in the hands of us mortals. The events of the past few weeks lead me to see otherwise. Upon closer inspection of my recent history, and that of my companions too often the winds of fate have either stacked totally against us or totally for us, to such a degree that it is impossible to deny the hands of the gods at play with our fate… to what end I can not say. Perhaps the threats to the Vale and beyond are such that the gods felt – near direct intervention was prudent… still I do not like being a chess piece and prefer to think that I can control my own destiny.

And what of my feelings for Jelissa, and her for me. from the beginning she was drawn to me like a moth to a flame…is that too a part of the master plan for the puppeteers? What part of this is my own, and what part is the greater plan. the events of the last few days are particularly poiniant to this thought. The Seed of Winter is being pursued by many. Sarshan has all but refused to let us not take the job on his behalf. throwing gold at us. The Iron Fell dwarves offer us a job to find a lost dwarven stronghold, hours after we have been told that a piece of the tablet that will lead us to the seed of winter was hidden in such a stronghold. Too many coincidences… too many quirks of fate…

Do I rebel against it or accept that the gods have a plan for us that is greater thatn a few beings right to live as they choose. Perhaps that right never existed and, it was merely the illusion of choice that makes us content with out “choosen” paths. At this point I hve no answers and will play my part as it as been laid out… For now..

I am changed.

I do not know how, for, by my reckoning, I am as I have always been. Yet, my companions, and even my own father, have noted a change in me. Most noticeably, my change of weapon preference.

I suppose the change itself should not be so disturbing. I have followed the instructions of the Ancestors and my Clan Elders, which have led me to this. Perhaps the change was required to better fulfill the challenges to come. Perhaps now, I am making better use of my resources, better use of myself, than I have before. No matter; I am still the Gil, and shall guide my companions as best I can.

Of greater concern to me now is this Seed of Winter we have been tasked to find. From what the others have said about it, it seems an item of great power; too powerful for one to control properly. The ancient ones had hidden it for a reason, and I would be inclined to let it stay hidden. But others are seeking it as well, and they shall hold no reservations about its use. I see no other way, but to find it before anyone else does, and then decide what to do with it once we have it. Perhaps destroying it to save the world will be the proper course of action, but we are too from from that point to see the solution clearly. I take some comfort in the thought that my companions seem of the same mind, that it is too powerful a thing and must be destroyed, or hidden. We will know more later.

(Looks around…) A wasteland of thorns and thickets! What I wouldn’t give to be home swimming under the cold water falls Klaagdun. I find it hard to believe that the Kaanar, and neighboring clans, are no more! How many did Sarchan have to send off to take out my people? My patience holds, but one day, I shall see his operation shut down, and if I have anything to say, I shall return to the land of the Kaanar, and unite them under one banner, so that this does not happen again!

A few months ago, I felt no purpose but to battle for the glory and comaraderie. Now, my path seems clear. Thank you, grandfather!

We leave Ser Broadleafs with the knowledge of D’Narri, Ashara’s friend is also in Sarshan’s slave camp. We convinced Ser Broadleaf to pay for her return, if her return is possible.

Off to Umber Forge we go. After a short trip we arrive. We immediately head toward the slave camp and shortly locate the tent that holds the young girls. The tent where they are being held as prisoners and being repeatedly raped. There is no question the planes would be a much better place with this place destroyed, I want to kill everyone in this awful camp! The guard working at the tent is exceedingly difficult. For a brief moment I contemplated on killing him where he stood, but decided that would have put D’Narri in to much danger. Instead I picked her up and put her over my shoulder, giving a quick prayer to the Primal Beast that the guard would try to stop me. It would have been the last thing he ever attempted in his pathetic life. I exit the tent with Brokenglass following close behind. He used his arcane powers to turn D’Narri invisible, a very useful little gnome. We quickly depart the camp and head for the portals. Upon reaching the portal Yamis in one of his more forgettable moments in judgment asks if we can return to the camp for some orc bombs. Huh, now? I think it wise we depart for the spineless guard back at the tent changes his mind.

Returning D’Narri to the Broadleaf manse do to the fact her family is not in the area. I’ll be sure to check in when I return to Overlook.

We have been invited to the Temple of Ioun, as a member of the Green Dawn I guess I will attend. The discussion heads toward the Seed of Winter an item I’m not sure we want to find, but if we can keep it out of Sarshan’s hands that’s a good enough reason for me. As the discussions drag on seemingly for ever I head to the back of the room and put a wet stone to my daggers. It seems the priest of Ioun is going to be tagging along during our journey. I hope she knows what she is getting herself into.

After gathering the necessary information we depart to find Danen to get more information. Yamis gave Danen an expensive gem, apparently he likes him, huh. He has little information on the Seed of Winter or on how to find it. He does however point us towards the IronFell dwarfs who apparently have a job for us. We agree to take there job as it is apart of our mission for the Seed of Winter. We also negotiate a part of their mine if we are successful in our mission. After a brief time we depart for Brindol.

During our journey we meet up with some Free Riders, another adventuring group or so it seems. After arriving in Brindol, Sarshan requests that we meet up with one of his agents to discuss terms of the job we already turned down. This better be good. It turns out Leena is the agent he sent. I wish I could figure this woman out. One part mysterious, one part dangerous and a lot of confusing. She stabs me in my back, but apologizes. She seems very loyal to Sarshan, but gives us gifts. This time she gives me a tattoo on sword and lightning. A powerful tool of vengeance. Yamis also receives one, a demon skin tattoo. We agree to take the mission, but only as a pretense to advance our own goals. I’m going to figure Leena out one way or another and it may go bad for her if she ends up on the wrong side. Something I’m sure Damakos wouldn’t have a problem with.

After a very short stop in Brindol we are off to the Thorn Waste. A thick layer of high brambles with thorms as sharp and hard as steel. Slowly hacking our way through we come upon several dwarfs seemingly plotting an ambush for us, poor dwarfs…

While my companions kept the FarRiders busy in that tavern, I make my way to the Cathedral of Pelor. As I kneel before the altar and pray it became clear on what I must do. This mission was too important for me to go it alone without letting someone of my faith know the dangers if we are successful. I seek out my mentor, the one who put me on this path – was it but a few months ago.

I find him in his priest hole, do I now considered it a hole? How I must have changed I muse but I digress. “Forgive for disturbing you your Illuminance” I say in a hush tone. “I must speak to you of important things.” And as the next hour passes I bypass much of my adventures, instead I concentrate on my meeting with Sarshan and what happened in Umberforge and back in Overlook. I finish with my current mission – finding the Seed of Winter.

“I feel this artifact is too powerful for anyone to posses. Our research has shown that it has a strange power of whom ever holds it and it has changed hands many times by it’s decision. I find I am in agreement with what the old priests of Ioun decided centuries ago – that this is something that should remain lost. I know of several groups that are now seeking this artifact. One of them is bound to succeed eventually so I am left with no choice. I must go on this mission and find it.”

I then go on to tell him of the missing pieces of the tablet and that we search for information of another piece in a forgotten dwarven stronghold of the Ironfells – beyond the great desert. As I finish ”..and that is that. So you will know what to do if I fail to return. Now I must hurry back to my companions – May you always reflect Pelor’s light” as I grasp his hands and make my way quicky back through Brindol to the market place where Sarshan’s lackey awaits us.

So, let’s see here. We had a very nice visit with Ashara’s father, Lord Broadleaf of the Elven Court who maintains his residence in Overlook. Our discussions ranged from thanks onto speculation. One line of speculation that has me concerned is the involvement of the Elsir Consortium in the politics of the region. Father is a member. There was a gateway over Fathers shop, though the warehouse ostensibly belongs to another. All know there are ways to conceal ownership of a thing. A concern for another time. I cannot bring myself to believe it of him, but before I enlist his aid in finding the currents within the Consortium, I think I must take the prudent path of examining his books most carefully. Even should I decide to attempt to enlist him, I doubt he would cooperate without proof the Consortium was involved. Then again, this is all on speculation from Lord Broadleaf whom I hath just met.

During our discussions, it came to light that a friend of Ashara’s had also been taken at the same time. Quickly, Lord Broadleaf agreed to front the gold required to secure her purchase from the slavers and we set off to retrieve her. It was hoped that she would still be within the general slave population and available for sale. The return trip to the Shadowfell went smoothly. I snuck past the guard on the other side, while the others distracted the watchers. As a group, we made our way to the slave pens where we were directed to another nearby pavilion when we made interest in young girls known to the master. When we began looking around, a Shadar’Kai followed us. I attempted to engage him in keeping a track of my potential interests, so as not to seem too interested in Danari in particular, but my ruse failed due to the indiscreet conversation of my companions. We did find her, but the Shadar’Kai merely wished to rent her to us for sexual purposes. When we made clear our intent to buy, he said he couldn’t sell her and we would have to negotiate with Sarshan for her purchase. A revelation. Sarshan is directly involved with the slave trade here, not merely facilitating it. That puts a very large strike against him in the “he’s got to be dealt with” category.

Damakos and the others began negotiating hard with the man. Co’Bok took the girl (who was drugged to the gills) with him while the flustered Shadar’Kai received a sack of gold coin and was told the girl simply escaped. Far better to explain an escape, than an unauthorized sale says Damakos. I’m not sure what the man plans to do, but he raised no hue & cry for our apprehension, and he kept the gold. Nor did we ever provide our names, though I doubt not that Sarshan would instantly think of us should a description of the group be given. Brokenglass made the girl invisible with magic (a very neat trick if I must say, and I can see many applications). We returned her to the Broadleaf residence without incident, much to the delight of Lord Broadleaf. Denari’s parents were out of town, but a messenger was dispatched to them immediately.

Having done our good deed for the day, we returned to our researches on the Seed of Winter. As fate would have it, Damakos’s paramour is an expert on the subject. Her research to become a fully-vested priestess of Ioun centers on a place called the Monastery of The One Truth, the last known resting place of the Seed. Apparently, the monastery was hidden by the Abbot for the express purpose of keeping the Seed safe. A map was made and smuggled out – a stone tablet. When it was discovered, it was broken into several pieces (three or four) rather than being destroyed. The pieces scattered throughout the Prime plane – which as I understand things translates into “the real world.” Apparently, this Seed was an artifact created by the Winter Court of the Fey and is an extremely powerful arcane artifact – and it “influences” those who possess it. Several accounts indicate that the actions of those who have it alter from their norm.

While this Seed of Winter sounds like a really awesome artifact to add to my thus-far paltry collection, me thinks it sounds too dangerous. I am not interested in becoming a puppet to some magical artifact. The Monastery of The One Truth however, is rumored to be packed full of lost lore, and other things of interest. I can’t wait to find it. One wrinkle. The high priest here that the Temple of Ioun has requested that Jalissa accompany us and that we find the Monastery for them, and recover the Seed for use in the defense of Overlook. This is a serious wrinkle. Jalissa will, I am mortally certain object to my acquisition of artifacts of interest from the newly rediscovered Monastery. And I have no intention whatsoever of giving the Seed of Winter to Overlook. The temple didn’t even offer us any compensation for the retrieval of the artifact, just the recovery of the Monastery. Though it seems to be generally agreed we shall go, and the high priest is under the impression we agreed to his terms, I was very sure that nobody on our side of the table ever said “yes, we will do as you say.” or that we would turn anything over to anybody specifically. My conscience will be completely clear when I say “No. We never had agreement on the disposition of anything recovered from our quest.”

We continued our researches in finding more of the tablet pieces. One has been entrusted to me. I will collect them all! They are exactly the kind of artifact I’ve gone adventuring to find! I am so excited that my plan has started to bear fruit at last. Research lead us to Dannen Greef, an expert on all things ancient and dwarven – as Jalissa indicates that she believes one of the tablets was entrusted to a hidden dwarven stronghold that has since been lost.

Dannen was pleased to speak with us and told us of a lost dwarven stronghold. Connected to a mine. And coincidently, a Lord Ironfell of clan Ironfell wanted to see us and send us on a quest to locate and evaluate the potential for reclaiming the lost wealth of the mine and stronghold for his clan. (They were the historical owners of the place, so it only seems right.) Great. We negotiated hard and he agreed to a perpetual 1% NET from all takings of the mines as our payment, along with anything in the stronghold or elsewhere that is not “a Clan Ironfell antiquity”. Though I a agreed to that, I am certain that a few choice pieces will find their way into my collection. After all, he doesn’t even know what’s there. How can he miss it? I requested Uncle to have the Holt solicitors review, negotiate if not correct, and empowered them to endorse them on our behalf so we might begin our trip immediately. He agreed and off we went.

As we were preparing to leave town, we were approached by a group of Hammerfist representatives. They say they heard we were looking for the stronghold. (They must have excellent spies in the Ironfell clan.) We refused their offer, having already accepted the prior. They seemed to be rather upset about our refusal. Upset enough that my danger-sense was warning me there might be something that required attention. I slipped away and when they left trailed them. They went to a drinking establishment and discussed us. Their talk seemed to indicate they’d plan on killing us so we wouldn’t be able to complete the task for the Ironfells. Then I trailed them back to the main Hammerfist enclave. Though I doubt not I could have penetrated the building undetected, finding them within and learning anything of use would be a daunting task. So I returned and let the rest of the group know the Hammerfists planned on being a thorn in our side.

So we sent a message to Sarshan. No – we cannot search for the Seed for you we say. Overlook is going to disable the portal, travel to the Shadowfell will not be possible for us any longer, good luck and all that. On our way to Brindhol, we get a message back. “Meet my agents in Brindhol to discuss. I have something you will want and my agent will provide it.” The man is persistent, you have to give him that. He is not used to hearing the word “No.”

A day outside Brindhol, we met up with the Freeriders. They were happy to see us, and were enthusiastic to hear of our most recent exploits. Then they went on to request any assistance we might give them in tracking down information on some kind of weather control magic. It soon became apparent that they’d been hired to track down the Seed of Winter. When questioned about their employer, it became clear it was the Fey Summer Court. I’ve never heard much good about the Feywild. Much like the Shadowfell. These other worlds that touch my own all seem to be trouble. Brokenglass just about had a fit on the spot. Eventually, he spluttered out that they should be very, very careful about their employers. The Freeriders also let slip that they were told a tablet they might find useful just might have been located in Brindhol. Thinking on it, I did seem to recall dwarven artifacts in the Hall of Valor. One may have been a tablet.

As soon as we entered Brindhol, I made excuses to split from the group. The rest of the group caught on and kept the Freeriders busy with an excellent early lunch at the Pandashi Inn. I went straight away to see Sartanian. He was happy, yet nervous to see me. I told him all about my adventures in the depths of ancient dwarven ruins, how we stopped an invasion of Overlook, and about the dwarven carvings and machinery I’d seen. I expounded upon how he could have opened a new wing of the museum with what I’d seen. Then I lead the conversation to did he by chance have any dwarven artifacts here already?

Indeed, he had had. But there was a break-in and only one thing was stolen, shortly after our rescue, and we’d all gone off to Overlook. A fragment of stone, inlaid and carved. About “so big”, etc. I asked him to draw me a picture, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I knew just what Sarshans agent had that “we would want.” I left my friend and told him that should I come across the tablet fragment, I’d see if it could be returned to his collection. Not a chance, but perhaps I’ll donate something else to take its place.

So we met with Leena. Sarshans agent. Sure enough, she had the other tablet fragment. We negotiated and took Sarshans money, and also got agreement to another 5000 on top of the 8000 he’d already promised, for a total of 13,000 gold. A tidy sum, but still far, far, below the worth of this magical artifact. The idea that we get 25% of his fee was laughed at. Oh well. We hath no intent on letting him, nor anyone else for that matter get their hands on this thing at this point. I’d just as soon see it tossed into a volcano. Isn’t that the traditional method of destroying powerful artifacts? Seems I heard that somewhere…

Now, we’re approaching the thorn wastes. I really must say that it looks to be rather unpleasant terrain. All pointy and sharp. Plants with steel-hard five-inch thorns grow everywhere over rocky and rugged terrain in a near-dessert climate. Who would have thought a mere three-day walk from Brindhol you could find such a nasty spot. But the mines and the stronghold are rumored to be out in the dessert on the other side of these wastes, and the map the Ironfells gave us leads to a depot their people used on the edge of these wastes. To reach the stronghold, we must first find the depot, which in turn requires we traverse “That” spiky zone of death. Still, after having been in the swamp of unbearable stench, this place isn’t so bad. At least it smells fine.

Found a new friend in the swamp. Seems even the old crows are backwards in this world. He claims he can see the future, which seems a dubious claim to me, but as he gets along well with the denizens of my bag I’m letting him tag along.

I don’t like much of this place, with its portals going all over the place, but at least it seems there was some point in coming back here and helping these fiends. I’ll be doing some research into the inhabitants of Dlrow, make sure he’s not a spy or an assassin.

Spawned from the Prime Material Plane Sent to punish nature entire The reptilian destroyer has been sent By the Gods to end this world He is a scaled biped A true killing machine With two horns upon his head and a lashing tail

He has claws akin to steel And a reflective carapace He’ll trample the weak under and foot His name is the Tarrasque He sends fear throughout the valley Though dormant half the turn He arises to annihilate the ancient ways of old

His chest shall wield 100 gems and his body 10 magic shields His scales are like pure rock forged from the deepest Abyss

Immunity to the heat and cold The weak shall paralyse with fear

He devours from endless miles around No shadows from his sight Enshrouded in mystery A hideous abomination of God From the Elemental Princes of Evil A gift of no return A demon in a silver skin, a legend of forgone years

The Tarrasque shall live again In the form of one whom is black The blood of carrion shall fall And devour holy flesh This land shall be cleansed of filth For he has the force of twelve His powers remain intact; the ancient myths won’t die

Spirit of a long forgotten past Leaving nothing in his wake Scaling the timeless landscape Destroying all with his bestial hate The horror for six is nigh The task is at hand The acts of mortal man are crushed by his fury and hate

Found this online, thought you might like it.  Its a throw back to 2nd edition.

So we return the wayward child to the Lord Broadleaf… and learn of anther lostr child, D’narri… Don’t get me wrong – I am all for saving wayward children, but this is getting to be too much – two in as many days… it looks as if we may be going back to umbraforge to save another noble’s daughter just as Oiler’s parents arrive to take vengence… oh dear…

Let me relate that which occurred over the past day or two. We continued upon our journey. Ahead in the foul depths of the swamp, we spied “two lost and forlorn elven women.” We didn’t believe that for even one half of a moment of course. Having been forewarned of the hags of the swamp, there being no habitation, nor even road to speak of we knew it to be the trap we had been awaiting. Brokenglass soon pointed out several suspiciously shaped vine-covered trees in addition to the women.

Not even acknowledging their presence, we turned about to leave. Having perceived that their pathetic ruse had failed, the hags dropped their illusions and attacked with much ferocity. They and their vine-man allies were fierce, but quickly succumbed to the combined abilities of our group. Towards the end, the last hag included the vine men in their blast at us. This ended their alliance. The vine men parlayed and we allowed them to withdrawl on condition that they nevermore bother us within the swamp. Agreement made, we rested within the hovel the hags called home. The delay here threatened to put us behind schedule, but not resting threatened the success of the mission at large. In hindsight, it was well that we rested. More on that in a moment.

Having refreshed ourselves in the hovel, we made our way along the “path” again. It was a matter of perhaps another hour when the path became in truth, a path and rose from the muck. A small hill ahead revealed the village we were going to. The village glowed with a ghostly green light. Some sort of warding spell surrounding the entire place I surmise. We were met by some rather surprised guards at the bridge spanning a sluggish stream, but they allowed speech before attacking. I suppose we looked disreputable enough to be sell-swords in truth. The transfer of goods went smoothly, though apparently they had been expecting someone else. I was nervous as our letter of introduction was presented. Not being able to decipher Shadar’Kai writings, we hath no notion of the missives actual contents. Half-suspected I did that Thannu would have writ “slay these people and dispose of the bodies in the swamp.”

Brokenglass then cast forth his magic rituals in an attempt to create one sufficiently strong to move the one-ton of cargo and the hand-drawn cart it resided upon. It took several attempts, but that had the added benefit that none of us need slog through the swamp again. We could all ride on these mystic disks several feet above the muck.

As we traveled back towards Umbraforge along the path, it suddenly occurred to us. We need not follow the path at all, but could make our way in a straight line, saving hours of travel utilizing this new mode of transport. So we left the path. Moments later, we heard a juvenile screech above us “Mine Now! He He He! Mine!” as a large black shape descended through the trees, hoisted the enormous bulk of the cart and cargo, and made off into the air.

I was paralyzed with astonishment for a moment. A black dragon had just stolen our cargo! Albeit a small one, still a true dragon. During my hesitation Oiler (for that was his name as we later learned) continued to climb with the cart. Co’Bok bless his action-oriented nature didn’t hesitate for a moment. He pulled forth a rope, and quick as thought formed a lasso which he threw over the wheel of the cart above him. Bracing on a nearby tree, he pulled back and forced Oiler closer to the ground.

Yamis and I utilized our Orcish belly bows to good effect, whilst I also called out to Oiler in his native language. I informed him that the treasure he’d stolen was surely not worth the time of one such as he, but that we couldn’t let him just take it. Further, there were things which we could discuss that might be of mutual benefit and that should he choose not to discourse, things might go badly for him.

Apparently, I may understand the language, but not the nature of the beasts. Such speach enraged him and he landed and prepared for an attack upon us. What followed was rather a nasty little battle. Which resulted in significant injury mainly to Damakos. Oiler fared worse and attempted escape. I put an end to it with an extremely well placed shot just at the juncture of his wing and shoulder joints. My surmise of his anatomy was correct, and the wound forced him from the sky as well as hampered his walking. With that, he surrendered and finally we had our discussion.

Co’Bok wished to slay Oiler. I could see it. But cooler heads prevailed. Here, we had before us the opportunity to play evil might off against evil might. Addressing Co’Bok as Captain Thannu, we spoke with Oiler and informed him that we had no interest in being masters of the swamp, and that he could keep that title with pride. We required of him that as master, he grant our particular band free passage, but that he should feel free to take from any others he might find.

Co’Bok wished to force the creature – who seemed to me a mere child – to give to us each a portion of his treasure. Oiler was reluctant, but not for the normal draconic reason of not wishing to part from treasures. In a flash of insight, I asked. “Oiler, doth thou still live with thine parent?” He hung his head and admitted as much. The Elder Wyrm Onyx was his mother and indeed he would get in trouble should he accede to Co’Boks request for treasure. That is when Damakos spoke up. “Onyx, we are from Umbraforge. You may be free to go but you must promise me you shall not return to your lair for a period of two days. Captain Thannu here who advises your death will not be merciful a second time should you not keep your word. Beyond that, you may do as you wish. Be sure to mention to your mother that Captain Thannu of Umbraforge magnanimously granted you this mercy and relate the warning as well.” I gifted Oiler with a short sword with the mark of Umbraforge upon its blade. Further proof as to the source of the insult upon his person.

I must say my heart swelled at the thought of an elder wyrm attacking Umbraforge, searching for Thannu. I’d made overtures of if not quite friendship, of at least a pact of non-hostility and been rudely rebuffed for my efforts. The Elder Onyx seems a fitting gift.

We returned without further incident to Umbraforge where we delivered the cargo. Thannu was his usual self, but I let it roll off of me. He had some crazed scheme that we should immediately report to Sarshan. I informed him that I was in no state to be presented, and he would have to await whilst I took care of the necessaries. We adjourned to our pavilion, and I was planning on finding suitable attire and locating a bath when Brokenglass forever earned himself a place in my heart. With a wave of his hand, and the expenditure of a modest amount of residium (the stuff of magic made solid) he cleaned the muck and stench from me and my clothes, and restored the garments to like-new condition! Oh the wonders this gnome can perform!

Therefore, shortly we presented ourselves at the tower and met with Sarshan. The meeting was on pleasant terms, and Damakos and Co’Bok were presented with magical armors for their payment. While I myself profit not at all, as a group we profit greatly and I do not therefore begrudge the lack of coin or other recompense. Sarshan then further offered us a new job, and let drop a hint that he knows something which in his opinion threatens the very existence of our entire world within a twelve-month. He refused to tell us more of the task other than the very basics. Retrieve a thing called the Seed of Winter. For this, he will pay us 1,000 in gold as a retainer, and an amount summing to a total of another 7,000 upon delivery. Somewhat anxious to vacate Umbraforge, we told him we would consider his offer but we wished to retire to Overlook for some well deserved rest after our trek through the swamp.

We then returned via Sarshans gate on the second floor of the tower (his key looks vastly different, and I took note of where he’d put it upon his person for future reference). At the gate home, we acquired Worron the mage from the Company of Wolves, Co’Boks former group. He seemed in good health, but his mental faculties were far from stable. There, I also had the pleasure of meeting Ashara, a very young elf girl of perhaps seven years. Daughter of House Broadleaf, whose father maintained a residence in Overlook. It is to there, that we shall be traveling in the morning to reunite them.

This brazen, over grown lizard has dared interfere with our mission, to threaten the lives of my friends, threaten my honor. This will not be allowed to happen. The Green Dawn jumps into action. Everyone doing their part. I grab the rope out of my backpack and lasso the wagon and drag the dragon closer to the ground. In a test of strength this lizard will loose. It quickly cuts the rope off the wagon and flies free of my grasp. After several callings to the dragon he changes his tactics and lands. Oh how foolish….Yamis and Sheldon unleashes missile into the dragon. I charge with an intimidating howl and miss barring my axe deep into the swampy ground. The dragon unleashes his acid breath upon me, but I was prepared and was only clipped by it. The dragon uses his dark magic and attacks my mind, all I can do is stand here stunned. Oh he will pay for that. I feel the power of the Frost Wolf surge threw my soul. I slash the dragon but barely cut through the dragons hard scales. The dragon surrounds himself with blackness darker then the darkest night. Ah this creature is full of tricks, none powerful enough to save him. I unleash the power of an avalanche behind my axe opening a deep gash into the creatures flank. Spraying blood across my face and chest. I have taken very little punishment although Damakos is doing his job has taken a serious beating. Again I feel the power of my rage course from my soul and enter my axe slamming the dragon to the ground. After the coordinated efforts from the group the dragon attempts to flee. Finally a smart move. A want nothing more then to end this creatures pathetic life, but the others have a better idea. Use the dragon to unleash havoc on Umber Forge. I can’t say I don’t regret not killing the dragon but I see the logic.