We have finally made it off that accursed island. Most of us have, at any rate. Galan was slain in our battle against the dracha and their undead monstrosities, his body infected by the green worms of Kyuss. Aramir tells me that the dracha insisted upon burning his body to prevent him from rising again as a spawn of Kyuss. He is truly lost to us, his body burnt to ash. Even the magic of the priests cannot return him to a body that no longer exists.
Galan was a valiant comrade and he shall be missed. More than once, his skills and knowledge were the only thing that stood between us and oblivion. We shall do all we can to honor his memory and his sacrifice.
I almost died as well. The only reason I draw breath is because Aramir was able to banish the undead abominations and then rush to my side to prevent me from slipping over the border into death.
Once again, I owe my life to Aramir…but none of us would have lived to tell the tale if not for the dracha themselves. After our opening volley damaged their catapults and injured many of them, the dracha at the far catapults actually turned against their leader! Soon after battle was joined, two immense swarms of green worms emerged from the pit, followed by two powerful undead—according to Blackrazor (she sensed them beforehand), they were more powerful than the treants. One was an armored warrior with a greatsword; the other was shaped like a humanoid but moved more like a beast—with the exception that it walked on air! Both were obviously infested with the green worms, and it soon became clear that they carried powerful magic within them. The warrior called down roaring columns of unholy black fire. The airwalker fired ribbons of black flame. They both were potent enough that they could stand against our best attacks.
Galan was hit by one of the warrior’s columns of unholy fire, and then fell to a powerful sword stroke. The accursed worm swarm immediately moved over his body. My mind reeling at seeing my friend fall, I noticed the leader of the dracha catapult crew behead one of his brethren at the pit—and noticed the airwalker stagger as if harmed by this act. I shouted out to Aramir, who immediately moved to dispatch the remaining dracha at the pit. I fired off magic missiles from a wand, but it was not enough to slay one of the pit dracha. In my haste, I got too close to the cursed warrior and was cut down just as Galan had been. I was the lucky one, though, for as I said Aramir managed to slay the last of the praying dracha before the swarming worms could finish me off.
Aramir tells me that the dracha had been “uncomfortable” with their masters for some time but thought there was nothing they could do. Our example, three against twenty, gave them the courage to stand against evil. If they had not found their courage, we would have fallen and Illthane’s plan may have come to fruition (I am told that the plan was to fire masses of green worms at the copper dragons when they flew to the Isle from Farshore).
The seven surviving dracha joined us on the boat (apparently they had no desire to experience the wrath of Illthane). Urol was true to his word—the copper dragons met us on the way to Farshore and escorted us the rest of the way. I wish I had been awake to see it—I’m sure they were magnificent. Now I recuperate from my injuries and await an audience with Eligos. I hope he has some answers for us.
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