It’s been a while since I reflected, much has happened since we were in the town besieged by the false feather serpent. We made an assault on the temple of Wee Jas. We have gone through a trial of rescuing Dwarves from themselves and their mind-controlling masters, all for the sake of clearing Jarvyk’s family name. We have lost a partner, Karamus; however his honesty and trustworthiness was always in question. We have gained a companion, Ryla, despite her single-minded goal being what will inevitably carry her onward. Successes all about, but I am still failing to find my Evane and her damnable captor. My blasted demon of a father. I am nearing my wit’s end as to how to accomplish my task.

We have found our way to a frozen cavern once dominated by the Spell Weavers and I must say I am rather distracted by my goal. We have traversed a handful of trials, fighting demons and undead. We have found corpses abound in this place as well. Ice lattices block our various paths, and Ryla, Jarvyk and myself have burned away plenty. We finally found a man working to control this place, a wizard who seemed to favor necromancy. He was slain, and his books, scrolls, wands, and other useful equipment sensibly went to me for the most part. Now I have his book to study and use as my own.

The most interesting things we found down here though are scrying focal points. I have determined that I can scry with them without need of the spell. I immediately sat and prepared myself to scry on my father. I used the wizards scrying focus points repeatedly until they were out of use. It was time to rest. The cold bit deep, but my magic and the other’s preparedness made it bearable. We rested and prepared for the next day.

The following morning Ryla and I had an interesting conversation on the “evils” of necromancy. She seemed surprised that I was a specialized practitioner of the “black” art. She kept insinuating that it was an evil art. I cannot disagree with her in the fact that it has some very evil attributes. I tried to defend the better aspects of it, such as the ability to control and destroy its own creations. It is life as well as death, but when it’s main visible symbols are undead and withering effects it is hard for the untrained to see it. Sage chimed in with the explanation that life is not evil and therefore necromancy isn’t inherently evil.

I set about once again focusing on my father. I tried and tried and tried to no avail until chance allowed me, at the scrying wall, to view my father. I was shaking with excitement as I pressed my hands to the window into a stone dining room. My father sat, hands clasped, hair greying, on a stone chair. His eyes stared off into nothing. I watched, tried to take in the room, but my eyes could not pull from his wary face. I could feel the bile rise in my throat, the hate burning my eyes so fiercely that my vision blurred with tears. I SAW him! His gaze raised and looked at the scrying sensor, I felt as though he was looking directly at me. He spoke “So you’ve come.” “Where are you?” I asked, knowing I would get no answer, yet expecting one. Nothing. He dropped his gaze again, hands clasped, staring off again. The screen flickered and faded. My hands slid into fists and I felt one slam into the screen. Saliva dripped from my open mouth and tears burned their way through for just a moment.

I pulled away, composed myself, and returned to the rest of the group and we decided to head farther on. We continued onward and Jarvyk decided to scout ahead. He asked for the Phoenix Heart from me, and I stopped. It isn’t that I don’t trust the dwarf, but I need it. It is mine. I hesitated and feared that he may have noticed my prolonged pause. I finally handed it over, and he ventured out.

Twists and turns led us to a room housing the wizard’s belongings, most interesting of which were a pile of papers that try as I might, I could not discern. We passed them around and Bransen, our friendly “sorcerer” used an ability I recognized as a spell to comprehend the sheets of paper. Why had I not thought of that! Bransen tried to explain what they were about, but I couldn’t quite get all of it, so I decided to do the same as he, only via arcane methods, not divine. I understood, they were notes on the soul pillars. Their method of use, their dangers, what they are. Answers! I could finally have answers!

We continued on and found a room that held the histories of various studies of cold and necromancy. This place is a crypt, so many bodies, I find myself elated, and that scares me slightly. I have found myself contemplating the darker sides of this art. I believe now that there are darker aspects that I will need to look into in order to combat my father and live long enough to meet him again. At the very least in order to understand him better.

My companions and I found a circle of summoning as well across from the deceased wizard’s haven. There was only one place left to go and there was much talk of a green dragon. Jarvyk asked for knowledge on green dragons, and I relayed as much as I could recall to him. We approached the final door we had yet to open and prepared ourselves for the worst. The door was opened and we stood for a moment. Jarvyk approached me and requested the ability to fly, and I granted this. Before we could react further a monstrous voice boomed “Well if you are going to stand in the hall all day…”. A massive skeletal draconic beast swooped into view of the doorway. A Draco-Lich, I recognized it, screamed that it was immune to near all but flame as it filled the hallway with acid breath. I dodged and luckily the resistance I had put up held against the spray. I managed to hasten everyone before the thought of facing the beast and it’s horrid eyes froze me solid with fear and disgust.

Before I could regain my senses the battle was over. I wakened myself, and Jarvyk set about hauling up dragon hoard. We began to sift through it and realized we just hit the motherload. But my attention wasn’t so much on the gold, but on the four large grey flesh pillars known as soul pillars that inhabited the room. We had seen lesser versions before here, but these were massive. According to the writings these were the greater ones and held many more answers.

I went above and bolstered my intellect before touching them to help avoid negative side effects. I mimicked the questions of my friends, getting only half answers or half truths or ridicule. I grew frustrated and Bransen decided to try his luck on the greater pillars. He asked questions and got answers but must have realized the dangers behind contacting the pillars knowledge. I had been cautious, but with Bransen wary of the pillars, and the others not fully able to comprehend the dangers or the process, it was left to me. I knew the dangers, but honestly, the truths held within called to me more strongly, as did the chance to get closer to the souls within this place. I grabbed hold of the pillar and connected my mind to it.

It was intense, I once again repeated my companions’ questions and their answers. But I quickly grew weary of this and began to ask my own questions. I got answers, and I did not like them. My father is in Sigil, the pillars said as much, and I remember Karamus’ search for his sister. The Child of Chaos knows how to get there, how to find the way in, and apparently holds the keys to the portal, said keys being symbols of night and day. Karamus, he is needed once more. His death will have to be counteracted if I wish to get any further in my quest. The Phoenix Heart can raise him. I wanted to avoid this, but it is necessary now. The others aren’t excited about this, but I cannot worry myself about that. My father loved Evane, the bastard, as if taking her soul without plan weren’t bad enough, he killed my mother, who loved him. He disgusts me.

Also this place, this place is one of the places of power I have searched for. The pillars told me of another, but of this place! I decided instantly to attune this to me as soon as I can. This may take a matter of hours, but I will gain it’s power before we leave.

I also remember something Kort said about me being a “pointy ear,” and I also asked about my mother. The pillars said she was a Seelie Princess. Apparently I am royalty, just not in the eyes of my own people. I have to find my father and slay him, for Evane, for mother, for myself. I will have to give up a part of me, but I will destroy him and bring back my beloved.

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