When it’s all said and done…
The aftermath of saving the world is far less enchanted than stories of old make it sound… Even so, all were in great spirits as we healed the injured and rebuilt the cities. I carried Willow back to his mother as everyone organized themselves. His mother cried with relief at the sight of him. The young cleric slept for a time, but healed fully. After enough basic repairs were done, a Procella-wide council was called. Many elves and dwarves were lost in the war and there was much that was needed to be done.
Everyone except Alcaeus left their own ways and said their goodbyes. Willow offered me a place to stay with him and his mother on the grounds that I teach him to speak abyssal. I decided to stay in town, but with Alcaeus instead. Black spoke of creating a ranger academy and settling down sometime, while Narafel continued his quest to find Satu. It was a lonely time, seeing everyone leave, each to their own paths. Willow eventually figured out my gender and traded his silence for learning some abyssal. As for Sarenrae, she offered me a gift for my valence and I asked for the ability to bear children.
She granted my request by giving me a difficult potion recipe and sealing it to my mind so that no others could reach it. After a month, Alcaeus made arrangements to sail to a distant land. He offered me a place to stay in his destroyed monastery. He took me there before leaving with the promise to return in 4 years.

4 years since doomsday
I had finished my remodeling of the monastery into a sizable and artfully built establishment. A few years ago I received a letter from Cailean saying he knew I was Raphael. Apparently it took the Crows two years to find me. – ha! I have become a master herbalist, apothecary, jeweler, and maker of clothes. I also learned every language imaginable. All of this in pursuit of the making the potion Sarenrae gave me a recipe for. I am living well and only use magic when it is needed. Often my services are required for one task or another and I make a very decent living here in the mountains. I am eagerly in wait of Alcaeus, but he hasn’t come back yet…

6 years since doomsday
Quite a few years ago I sent Grimm a letter telling him I would meet him this year in Trader’s point. I explained my identity as Lorelei to him and we had a very long talk. I made promise to meet him again at intervals. Alcaeus still hasn’t arrived and I have not seen nor heard anything from the others…

8 years since doomsday
I was making serious progress on my potion’s completion in the dead of the night when I heard a loud noise coming from the pantry. I snuck up on the culprit and prepared to strike, but just then I recognized his aura. It was Alcaeus!. Why I was so flushed I have yet to understand. While he was there a familiar face appeared – Cailean, who I used my herbalist skills to save. Much to my sorrow, the monk only stayed for a week before leaving again. He told me I could keep the building and I offered him a place to come back to. I could barely hear him, but I think he said he wasn’t ready to settle down…yet? Wait…does he…? Cailean on the other hand stayed with me and helped to care for things for a year before going his own way again.

15 years since doomsday
I perfected my potion 4 years ago and can now have a child (it is said to only work once), but as soon as I took it I forgot the recipe. I am now 34 years old, which is fairly young for a half-elf like myself. Black visits on a rare occasion and he and his family are doing well. Grimm is enjoying a peaceful life and I hear that the child – Willow has found himself a sweetheart. Alcaeus comes home every so often but he still loves to travel. He’s been bringing me gifts from his travels and a few times he’s come home injured so badly I’ve had to make him stay and rest. I miss him terribly when he’s away, but I keep the place up and running. It has come to be a place of healing of both the body and soul for all races. Even so, I also make clothes and jewelry on the side. Speaking of jewelry, that large blue gem I procured so long ago has been fashioned into jewelry I plan to make a family heirloom. I have been found out as the daughter of Oreilo and Prialeah by the elves and the rest of Procella, but there has been no trouble of it.

20 years since doomsday
Procella has been peaceful and bright. Cailean has changed quite a bit from when I last saw him. Grimm has married and is expecting very little feet wandering down the tunnels soon. Black asks for advice on dealing with teenage daughters from time to time. I haven’t heard much of Narafel but I expect that if he has found Satu, there are knelfs running around. Something suprising happened four years ago. I got married! Alcaeus came home one day when I went to greet him he had a different greeting in mind. It wasn’t long before we were wed. In no time at all I was with child, my only child. When it came time for the birth, there were two! Surely Sarenrae smiled upon me! Now they are only about 3 yrs. Old – a boy and a girl. They are quick learners but a little unpredictable like their father. They are growing at an astounding rate – something I attribute to the potion. I knew all of my efforts would not be wasted.

Cailean Sandscar, and the events of the next twenty years

Immediately Afterward
Cailean has set up a deal with the Crows of Cobhsai to use his property and entirety of his fortune to Lorelei, if she wants it. In the event that she does not, it will be used to start a small orphanage for half-elf children discarded by their parents, in hopes of giving them a new future, perhaps a brighter one. He bids his fond farewell to Narafel, Lorelei, Grimm, Black, and Alcaeus, and leaves to begin his journey.

The Next Few Years
Cailean gets into his journey as the Blade of the Grey Master, serving Norgorber as a thief and inquisitor. He travels throughout the continent of Procella, stealing things and donating them to the followers of Norgorber, as well as fighting and killing whoever his new deity says to.

Eight Years Later
Cailean has a mental conflict between himself, Norgorber, and his wolf half. His wolf side argues with Norgorber, proclaiming that, thief though he may be, Cailean’s path was never one to serve some higher power. Especially one that is magically binding. Norgorber contests this, claiming Cailean’s years of devoted service, but Cailean himself breaks through both, saying that the wolf is right, but that he will never serve the beast either. He renounces his connection to the thief god, and the wolf’s attempts at control, and gets into the most horrible fight of his life. Norgorber strips him of his magic and his stealth, and the wolf removes all his strength, and Cailean must fight the Grey Master’s followers and the beasts of nature. He is brought near to death, but he gets to a large building complex. All he can tell is that it is some kind of temple. As he called out for help, he collapsed, and he was tended to by Lorelei. Thus, he began the slow, methodical process of weaning himself off of his old ways. Healing by a means non-magical proved to be a potent, albeit painful and drawn-out, way of removing magic from his life. In his recovery time, he learned the whole truth about Lorelei’s connection to Raphael, and helped out around the temple. His heart purified, and body eventually restored, Cailean set about rediscovering life. As he could have no children of his own, he made a point of frequent visits to the orphanage, overseeing the growth of young half-elves and half-orcs.

Ten Years Later
During one of those visits, Cailean met one young half-elf named Cayden. This particularly curious child dug deep into Cailean’s past, forcing Cailean to reveal his unfortunate story. After a moment of considering becoming a thief, just like Cailean, Cayden is persuaded to instead be a rare kind of monk, his protege, who is devoted to peace and teaching the world to grow away from its corruption, without purging that corruption outright like a paladin. Establishing this creed, Cailean went out to the world, preparing it for Cayden’s journey. Cayden would begin when he turned 18, but he had ten years left to go. In his stead, Cailean goes to assess the nature of corruption in the world.

Thirteen Years Later
In three years, Cailean found and monitored the actions of the few remaining savage tribes, remnants of Rovagug’s forces, and any malevolent mages, as well as self-righteous holy-types taking justice too far. This information would serve Cayden well when his time came.

Fifteen Years Later
Cailean at last tracked down his real father, Raykos. Where a fight was anticipated before, they instead held a conversation. Cailean learned about Raykos’ life after the awful event occurred, and how painful that life was. He finally came to forgive him, realizing that his unfortunate origins aided in the world being saved from Rovagug. Together, united at long last, the ex-Paladin and the ex-Rogue began traveling anew. As they traveled, Cailean told Raykos his story. After it all, Raykos was dismayed to hear that his son could not surpass him and have a family of his own. He then said that he would give Cailean what he had not for these thirty-five years: a real father. He began counseling him in the ways of an adult, encouraging him to take Cayden as his own son, and to find someone who would marry him.

Seventeen Years Later
Cailean and Raykos joined up temporarily with a group of bounty hunters, who called themselves Neo Strike, to put an end to the efforts of Harm Artiax, a copycat necromancer who sought to begin anew where Andron, Mutare, and Rovagkuun left off. Their journey brought Cailean back to Dyp Jord, where Harm Artiax recreated a pale reflection of the Dyp Jord Crucible. Cailean mastered it easily, having survived the real deal, but Raykos was injured, and the rest of Neo Strike were obliterated. Bound by no duty or code but their own, father and son tracked down Harm Artiax and ended him personally. This marked the end of Raykos’ journeying days, however. Cailean decided to accompany his father to the elven settlement they eventually rested at. But the other elves were cruel to Cailean. Not willing to spark a conflict, he left in peace, bidding a fond farewell to his father.

Eighteen Years Later
Cailean has a fateful encounter with a near-perfect replica of himself from eighteen years ago. Nearly losing the fight, he decides to pursue this lead. His investigation takes him into the deepest chasms, depositing him in the Deep Earth. Cailean meets the shadowy, mysterious Drow for the first time, and gets to make some good use of his Undercommon. He quickly realizes the dire evil of the environment around him, and he tries to leave peacefully. This ends badly, and Cailean flees at full-speed from an army of Drow assassins, Driders, and followers of Lolth. He ends up waylaid, and goes far deeper than he could have imagined. There he stumbled upon the secret laboratory of leading alchemist Jabbuk Kaderas Quenar of House Tormtor. Jabbuk Kaderas had Cailean captured and restrained in his lab, where he revealed the intimate details of his plan. He had his dark agents harvest what remained of the doppelganger Cailean had fought in the maze, and used it to clone him. Jabbuk Kaderas then revealed his master stroke: he had sent magically enthralled doppelgangers to steal samples from the rest of Cailean’s old team: Professor Horace Grimm, Lorelei, Narafel, Satu, Tymmen, Black, and Alcaeus. They had all been magically conditioned to forget that the intercept ever happened. Once had acquired the samples, Jabbuk Kaderas had used staple samples of doppelganger, dwarf, human, elf, and gnome to pad the genetic material, and he made clones of all of them. No longer needing the original source, except to ensure his demise, Jabbuk Kaderas loosed a remodeled version of the same doppelganger to attack Cailean. This failed, due to Cailean’s old Spellbreaker training and new Monk training. Sending out clones of the team led to similar failure, as did the Jabbuk’s psionic onslaught. As Cailean desperately tried to escape, he ended up sparking a battle between Jabbuk Kaderas’ clone army, and the population of Deep Earth. This battle escalated over months. During that time, Cailean forged an unsteady alliance with two clones: one of himself and one of Lorelei. This ragtag group of three fought their way out of the bowels of the planet and back to the surface. He asked them what they would do, and they realized something very important. They themselves may not have been half-elves, but their predecessors were. This realization drove them to go back into Deep Earth to rescue the cloning technology, in hopes of finding a way for half-elves and half-orcs to have children. They said their farewells, and dropped back into the earth.

Nineteen Years Later
As the time for Cayden’s journey drew nearer, Cailean resumed his duties investigating disturbances in Procella. Around that time, he met Evanara Sendre. By met, I mean she tried to steal from him. Her attempt failed, he offered her a choice: have lunch with him or go to jail. She chose the former, and they slowly got to know each other, and as they did, they fell in love. The dawn hours began, and Evanara asked if Cailean would turn her in. In response, he smiled and told her she had a fifteen minute head start. She escaped the authorities that morning, and would return to visit Cailean often after that.

Twenty Years Later
Cailean and Evanara got married, officiated by the captain of a ship. As they sailed away from Procella, ready to seek new lands, they left Cayden back on the shore with a mysterious oak box, and Cailean’s thieving tools. Cayden would open it after eight months of careful study and work, to discover 300 hand-written manuscripts from Cailean, detailing the progress of evil and chaos in the realm of Procella. In the first days of Cayden’s journey, the sailing expedition Cailean and Evanara were in ran into a horrible storm. To this day, no one knows what became of either of them.

Letter to Horace Grimm,
I want you to know that I am safe and very much alive. I will be creating a life for myself and it will take some time. I know you will want an explanation for my disappearance, but I plan to wait until we meet face to face before the story unfolds. I will plan to meet you in Trader’s point in 6 years at the tavern – you know the one. I plan to hone my skills and I am in pursuit of something extraordinary and unheard of.
Until then, stay safe. Although you have not always been in my good graces, you are still some of the only family I have. Thank you for looking after me for all these years. I think it is time for me to find my own way. I will be sure to send you word from time to time and I’m sure we will meet again.
- Lorelei

Raphael – The Harbor
We reached Trader’s point safely only to be greeted by a dark tower and the unmistakable feeling of undead surrounded by a mass of people. I was left with only a cleric girl before we were approached by an abbot of Sarenrae. We were arranging a mission to save the harbor when a boy interrupted us. He was the abbot’s son and a magic prodigy with no deity. He demanded to travel with us and ended up getting his wish, but he was far too happy to rush into war. Calling himself “Willow”, he ran through the portals to the town with the girl and I.
We made it into a chaotic scene swarming with flames, demons, and the scent of sulfur. The girl and kid were indecisive and unfocused, so I took charge. On the way, some demons heard us and I spoke to them in abyssal to keep them away from our party, who offered me strange looks. Ignoring them and the child’s incessant demand for me to teach him to speak the language, we continued forward carefully. Not long after, we reached a 50ft. pile of rubble with no way around it. While they sat idly, I started climbing. Eventually, they started after me and thought the kid almost died, we all made it to the top. I took the waiting time to ask the girl her name – Mivah.
Not long afterward, we made it to the harbor where the child’s big talk of demon-killing was cut short by the scene of actual battle. Mivah and I took to killing off as many as possible and healing the boy. Luckily, the kid shaped up and started fighting with us. Mivah was laughing maniacally, something a little unnerving… The kid proved to be a valiant fighter but I knew something else was coming. I was already suspicious of the water so dodging the demons from it was easy. “Easy” was short-lived when a demon general came flying in to kill us all. I summoned an Archon Lantern to aid us and made my sword fight as well. Willow healed me with the last of his energy and collapsed.
Mivah persuaded a demon to feed itself to the bats, which can only be described as disturbing…… I healed the kid’s wounds, but he stayed immobile. We held off the demon general until the humans opened then gates and he flew away to be eaten by the vampire bats. It was a glorious moment. The sky was cleared, the humans were alive, and Willow and Mivah were still alive.
We will live on

We reached Trader’s point. The city was enwrapped in a cloud of darkness. The city’s leadership was standing outside the darkness trying to keep the situation under control – a laughable notion, in my opinion.
I heard the name of Lexa mentioned. I knew the name. Long ago we were friends. We went to school together; she would always nag me for coming to class late. She was in danger. She was going to be sacrificed in a warehouse in town.
The Professor and I were sent into the city with another monk. A werewolf monk, to be precise. The Professor became very squeamish, but I reminded him that, while he was fretting about the werewolf, an apocalypse was about to fall upon the city. He set aside his qualms.
As we walked down the street, a large spider attacked the Professor. He panicked. The monk killed it with no difficulty. The spider left behind a glowing stone that the monk touched. We looked up.
A horde of demons descended from the sky. We ran. I suppose the Professor’s mind must have been clouded by his werewolf qualms, because he tripped, stumbled, and finally fell flat on his face. We were near the warehouse, and there were many demons. I could not afford to stop. I ran past him, then reached back with the gauntlets and pulled him through the door. The Professor sealed it with a magical lock.
We looked and saw a giant monster: half-spider, half-elf. Behind it, Lexa and a monk were bound to an invisible structure. The fight began.
The other monk, the free one, transformed into a creature that sent chills up my spine; not because it was nonhuman, but because it was a human with the strength, the appearance, and the savage instincts of a monster. I would not want to have to fight him. Today, fortunately, he was on our side. . .

The end is nigh. The party devides, new people join the fray. Grimm and 3 others, a bard with a song on his lips, a paladin with a journey to take, a ranger with a sword in his hand.
They were seen to the barrier and then they leaped in side

I followed them into the city of darkness and fire. It is the end of the world. The Gods themselves for their survival. But there is hope; in the breast of these men and women, wherein lies the salvation of the universe.
Grimm’s eyes have no hope in them. Only darkness. Only silence.

They flew over rooftops, traveling as fast they could to reach the heart of the darkness, the seat of despair: the temple complex where Rovagugkun was quickly finishing his last touches to let his master through.

They arrived with little trouble til they tried to enter the temple itself. Then they encountered two twins of smoke and flame. Grimm took his chance and in the confusion and violence and shadows left them behind entering the temple ahead of them.
This is the beginning, his betrayal, the end of all hope.
He talks quickly to Rovagugkun, and agrees to keep the others here where they can not interfere with the ceremony.
I will need to defy my orders, kill the betrayer or all hope is loss, but wait…

the rest of the party enters the temple.
His tongue is like a serpent, spreading easy and luxury and peace. Even I begin to doubt, maybe it is better to just have it end.
No more pain, no more suffering, no more war, no more hate.
Peace forever
The ranger attacks, his desire to live and naivety and the optimistic hope for a better world is greater than his reason.
It’s a poor swing, clearing missing.
Grimm raises the crossbow, aiming at the ranger’s chest, ready to put one more soul out of his misery, and grimm moves in front of the swing of his sword, lifting his arm so that is in its path.
And his arm is gone. Abandoned as easily as if it had been a lock of hair, and Rovagug can no longer tell his actions or his purposes or his plans.
I can See into his heart now though, and it is dark indeed. But his purposes remain the same, his road as obvious as it always was, his path as straight. There was no room for good in his heart. Because it was filled with his intent, his obsession. The destruction of evil, even if it stained his own soul, made him as dark as them, because he knew he too would die one day. And he would relish that day because one more evil creature would be gone.
But till then he would slay one at a time. And he would not pass up the chance to destroy the most evil thing that had ever been.

He descended into the deeps, for one last fight.
Now Rovagug and Rovagugkun would not see his betrayal coming.

From Cailean Sandscar, forsaken son of a childless people, champion of a lost deity, and Blade of the Grey Master

To Lorelei, the jewel of the upper class, a fine diplomat, and a greater friend than I could wish for

If you are even out there, the Crows will know how to find you, and they will deliver this message to you at my request. When you read this, I may very well be dead. I sincerely hope you are not, for that would mean the 400 pieces I paid them from the gold I stole from you would be wasted on a vain pursuit. Sorry about that by the way. I had intended to give it back before you passed — be it from the group or from the mortal coil itself — but that was not to be. I feel very convicted about how things have gone, and how wrong I was about you all this time. Because of this, I am also sending the Crows to Cobhsai, where they will put someone trustworthy in charge of my entire estate, and my remaining gold. All of it is rightfully yours, and will be turned over to you at your word. In the small sum of its parts, that property is my house and bar, recently acquired from Lexa, the remaining 415 gold pieces, and 5,000 dwarven marks. I hope they come to better use in your hands than they would in mine. If you do not wish to take this gift, I understand, and I have put provisions into place. Should you turn over the estate to the handler, he has instructions to make it a place where half-elf children can be raised in safety and peace. Maybe then, they will have a better shot at a good life than we did.

I know half-elves can’t have a family through blood, but I think someone like you has the best chance at being a mother to our people. You have a noble upbringing, and a firm command of what is right. Stick to those virtues, and your elven blood will ensure a long life to help people like us. These children have a broken past to suffer, and have had their future torn away from them the moment they were conceived. Every last one of them must find a new definition of life, of what it means to them. No one would listen to a deadblood like me, but you stand as an exception — an upstanding member of society despite your heritage, and all the baggage that comes with it. I urge you to help the races understand, however you can, that we have just as much to offer this world as any full-blooded man, woman, or child.

One other thing I’ve meant to attend to: your theatrics in Dyp Jord. Yes, I am aware of your clever disguise. It fooled me long enough for us to part ways, but in these dire hours, my mind is keen. I kept quiet because I deduced your reasoning for hiding that way. You felt that the time had come when it was not safe to be Lorelei anymore. So the enigmatic guise of Raphael, the legendary traveler, was necessary to guard that part of you. I do not rightly know if you are the Raphael of whom the legends speak, but it matters little to me right now. Know that I understand, and that I have a disguise too. But mine is less of a few choice pieces of clothing. I am a werewolf, Lorelei, and I felt that you should know. I meant to speak of this earlier, but the opportunity simply didn’t present itself. I hope that you will come to forgive me for hiding this secret from you. If we shall meet again, I will lay my fate at your mercy, and the mercy of your deity Sarenrae. If you feel the need to avenge this cursed existence, I have the weapons.

My reason for parting with the group, which I’m sure you may wonder about should you meet them again, is that this dread Spire is preventing our reinforcements from entering the town of Trader’s Point. I have signed up to take it down, and my path has taken me away from all of you. Farewell Lorelei, my comrade, my friend, my sister in dead blood. I hope that path may bring me back someday, if destiny allows.

Pilgrim,

I hope this letter finds you still alive, both today and years from now. Your path has been a dark one, and you keep hinting that it won’t go much farther. I haven’t forgotten how we were told that my path might go farther than yours. Still, so much has changed since then.

My path has certainly changed. I cannot accompany you to rescue Mannaro and Lexa. You have your loyalty to Mannaro, and that counts for much. I have some ties to Lexa, but I wasn’t even present at her ascension to deific rank. This is your mission, and my friends’ mission. Normally, I would follow.

Today, however, I have a mission of my own.

How long has it been? How long have I been quietly following others? How long have I been hiding in the woods and shooting Undead in the dark? How long since my father’s blood truly ran through my veins? How long has it been since I stood for something? How long have I been a sword for hire? Not that I had no convictions. I just didn’t have a cause. I wandered aimlessly. I was a guide, but not a leader. I feel like I just woke up, Pilgrim. I hope I’m not too late.

I have to face this evil myself. I have to fight Rovagkuun in person. I know who I am now. I am my father’s son. I stand for resistance, for self-sacrifice, for life. Not just breathing-and-eating life, but abundant life. The kind of life that you rallied even the Undead to fight for. I’ve been wasting my hatred on a race and on a condition of the body, when I should have directed it at the evils around me and within me.

I don’t know if I will survive this. Gozreh may be my father, but I have no pretensions. I’ve come close to death often, facing enemies far weaker than the ones ahead of us all. I might be easily defeated in battle today. I know I’m no match for the enemy. Worse, I fear treason. I suspect that today I will follow in my father’s footsteps. I might go silent… but there won’t be anyone to wake me up a second time. So farewell, Pilgrim. If you see my friends, give them my best wishes and hopes, and tell them not to fight each other. I might go on to the next life soon, where I must account for this one that I have wasted. I can only plead my father’s forgiveness.

I have a last request. If you cannot do this, I understand. However, you’re the only one I trust with this. Don’t disqualify yourself because of your werewolf’s curse. I know you by your actions and your words, and I trust what I’ve seen in you.

If I die and you do not, take my sword Airalinde to the Necropolis. Yes, I came up with a new name: Airalinde, or “new awakening” in the Secret Tongue of Kappel. (By the way, no one but you needs to know that. The most important thing about Secret Tongues is that they’re secret.) Put Awakening in the Tower, in the room protected by the holy symbols. Make sure it is well-guarded.

Then, go on with your life. Forget my Awakening. Let years or even decades pass. Keep your eyes open, though.

For what? I’m not sure. You’ll know when you meet him or her. Perhaps the apprentice will be a child, perhaps not. He, or she, will almost certainly not be Undead. (Awakening is, after all, made of silver.) The apprentice will have a certain kind of character, though. The apprentice must believe, or come to believe, in self-sacrifice, forgiveness, and defending the helpless. I don’t know what else. Just find the right person—be it human or monster, free or cursed.

Train the apprentice to become a shield to good and a living nightmare to evil. Teach him every art you know, and a few you don’t. Refine his hatred. Give it precision; teach him cut through race and appearance to the good or evil soul beneath. Adapt him to every circumstance. Let him know when to be gentle and when to kill.

Let the Apprentice earn Airalinde. Then send him to destroy every shard of every Egg there ever was. Let him defend the Necropolis against the Living, if our allies’ premonitions come true. Let him defend Trader’s Point against the Undead, if my premonitions come true. The world may avert outside destruction, but it may yet destroy itself from within. Let the Apprentice be the link between living and undead, deities and the world.

That’s why I can trust only you with this. You’ve seen what I’ve seen: The Undead ranged for battle against Rovagug, the deities arguing and forgiving each other in their halls. There will still be so much at stake, even if we win. I want my sword to fight on even if I fall.

Perhaps I’m hoping too much. Maybe my sword will shatter against the destruction ahead. Maybe we’ll both die. Maybe we’ll all fail. Maybe my grand hopes for an Apprentice and a force of Rangers for him or her is just my dying delusion. Maybe this world is destined for final darkness.

Yet hope remains. For the world, for me, and believe it or not, for you too. Stay alive, and don’t try anything overly heroic. Remember, you have companions for a reason.

Your friend,
Black

Cailean Sandscar, Blade of the Grey Master
If All Is Not Lost, Then I Am

Alcaeus, Alcaeus…the decadent monk;
_ In fortune rising as his brothers sunk._
_ Who will remember a disgraced holy man_
_ When mighty Rovagug has finished his plan?_

After meeting this bizarre Raphael character, we scoured the city for our lost comrades, and for any other survivors. To our dismay, all that remained of Black and Lorelei were discarded tatters of their ceremonial garb, and the only survivors were the two shopkeepers whose storehouse I plund…um, rather…visited. With the population reduced to nothing, these sociopaths deemed themselves the sole inheritors of all that lay before them. I thought them fools for this course of thought, but they were spared my usual punishment of fools. The more subservient of the two, however, had a stomach decidedly larger than his brain, and I was able to secure our acquisitions with a basket of cucumbers. Poor sap will never know I got them from his storehouse, just like everything else I stol…er…borrowed.

What can be said of Professor Grimm?
_ There’s no one wise or humble as him._
_ If you want to die,_
_ Then on him rely._
_ So it is said of Professor Grimm._

We set off for the lower levels, and checked out the abandoned wares there. After evicting a Rochester straggler in a confrontation that nearly put a few new holes in our wizard, Professor Grimm and I made off from the fletcher’s store with fine new dwarven longbows and dwarven arrows. We then went to the library after Alcaeus and our new tagalong left it. I briefly searched for anything in Undercommon — such a discovery would definitely be worth picking up. Unfortunately, there was no such literature to be found.

Satu is the gnome
_ Who is a friend of nature,_
_ But won’t heal her friends._

Our searching took us downward still, and we found an impressive selection of carts, with assorted wares. I acquired some platinum jewelry, deflecting that roving Raphael to the gold instead. There was also this religious symbol, a five-pointed star of obsidian. I do not know the deity to which it belongs, but that stone is hard to come by. I also picked up some scrolls that seemed interesting. My troubled life with Naserran was useful for many purposes, one of which was my ability to identify the contents of some of my findings. With the assistance of Professor Grimm, I found that one of them was a spell known as “Power Word Kill.” Useful.

Bye, bye our dear Lorelei
_ Took our party to the city but betrayal was nigh_
_ Them good ol’ dwarves were all just fixin’ to die_
_ Empty beds sit where our sleepers should lie_
_ Why oh why did you have to lie_

Continuing, we explored the arena below and ran into Narafel of all people. He had been imprisoned there, but had lost track of Satu, who I can safely assume is as lost to us as Black, Tymmen, and Lorelei. What a grievous loss we have taken! Narafel accompanied us further below, and we found a man waiting for us. By the curiously (yet familiar) inebriated state of Professor Grimm, I deduced correctly that this man knew his ale. I could not have been more right: the man before us was Cayden Cailean — my namesake and the patron deity of the drink.
Beneath the arena, we eventually reached the river. There we found a man waiting for us. He offered us his product in good faith. The frothy wizard was happy to accept, and even the dignified Raphael was rattled enough to need a good soothing. I declined politely, saying that while I have nothing against the drink or the provider, I prefer to keep my mind clear when a job is to be done. I told him I would be grateful for his help in the after-party, once Rovagug has reached his end.

Who’s got the darkest disposition?
_ One guess, that’s who?_
_ Who’d never, ever lose his direction?_
_ Who here has a deity connection?_
_ Who has paid fifty-five for a beer?_
_ Who’d surely be “Ranger of the year?”_
_ Who’s got back on the Black Robe’s track?_
_ No one – but our friend Black!_

He supplied Raphael, Alcaeus, and Narafel with special boats (sent by Narafel’s deity Desna), but Professor Grimm and I bid all of them farewell and decided to try our hand at a teleporter that Cayden Cailean claimed he had fixed. A quick search demonstrated that the magic was far beyond anything Professor Grimm was capable of. Maybe if he had spent less time filling his humors with pickling brine and more time perusing those spell-books, he might actually know this work more intimately. He decided to scour the town for a method to work the portal, and I split off to see if any of the creatures in the holding pens down by the arena would help us. I brought them food, and while many were receptive, the gryphon (who in the nine hells caught a gryphon?) declined stubbornly. What do bird-lions even eat? My attempts to draw a tiger to my aid failed, but attracted the attention of a small, haggard cheetah: Kiskah. Satu’s animal companion had returned at long last! But where was the gnome?

In Grosser an elf bard doth dwell
_ Who’s handy with a lute;_
_ None sing so wildly well_
_ As the elf bard Narafel,_
_ And in Trader’s Point (so legends tell),_
_ All cease their trades, attend the spell_
_ Of his voice, all mute._

Kiskah and I ventured out from the pens and ran straight into the Prime Minister. Kiskah managed to catch his attention, but he didn’t see me, so I struck him with the most feared technique at my disposal. As his gaping wound bled profusely, he tried to talk to me, but he gave up trying soon enough. Just as I thought he was about to die, Rovagug revealed his hand in the affair, tearing his vessel open down to where his heart should have been, revealing yet another yellow spider stone. So, the spider-god of destruction had sent another lackey to die, had he? The bug took a special moment to curse me for repeatedly slaying his servants, then he healed the entire body around the stone, and we engaged in a furious battle.

They’re Sandscar and Tymmen
_ Yes, Sandscar and Tymmen_
_ One is a-thievin’_
_ The other can’t win._
_ They’re both from Trader’s Point_
_ It’s this or the joint_
_ Their town’s far_
_ They’re Sandscar and Tymmen._

In the events that followed, many great and terrible things occurred, but all that matters now is my Gray Master. Saving me from my errors, he sent a servant to work the portal, and hurried Grimm, Kiskah, and myself off to Trader’s Point, to aid the others in a most fearsome battle. My allegiances have shifted wildly over the last several months, but one thing has remained constant: I have always remained true. In the absence of Lexa, Satu, Black, Tymmen, Lorelei, Narafel, and Alcaeus, I will never forget where I have come from, and where I am sure to be in the future. Though I am now conflicted on whether or not to embrace magic, my body, mind, and soul are devoted to the speed, accuracy, and skill of a rogue. Those elements will never depart from me, nor I from them.

From the Records of an Angel

A purple eyed creature pulled aside Grimm. It smelled like wet dog. Cursed curs. I wanted to crush it right there surrounded by its undead minions.

Grimm went along though a smile curling under his black eyes, blond hair framing his pale face, dark demons of his past tearing at his eyes, screaming the horrid songs of hell in his ears.
And they talked, the dog and the damned.

Grimm talked of a broken world better left dead. The dog spoke of hope, and future loves.
The dog thought of violence to be sure of Grimm’s trust.
The mortal thought, I don’t what he thought. The little piece of hell injected his arm made sure of that. But perhaps he thought of death and the peace that it brings. Or maybe a future with actual hope
But Grimm lied and he lied and he lied and he lied. Whom would he save and whom he betray?
Perhaps he lied even to himself to hide his heart from the plans of Rovagug. Perhaps he really thought he would betray all of his companions, his god, and his world. Perhaps he would. Perhaps he would.
Grimm does not trust the world. So the world does not trust him.