17th of Greenshade, 1147
I waited at The Valley’s Rest longer than I expected. Alba stayed close, perched nearby and watching the door more than I did. Galid was already drinking when I arrived. Familiar comfort at least.
Taren came in before Moses. I wasn’t ready for that. He only meant to say goodbye after he had read the letter meant for Seris, but he also brought some news that I should’ve heard sooner. Mother, Father, and Lysaen left for Rivermere a week ago. No word. No warning. I told myself it didn’t matter, but it sat heavy all the same. I then gave Taren a ruffle of his hair and told him to get back before he was noticed missing. He tried to smile, then left before the silence got too loud.
Moses arrived not long after. He spoke of a sign calling for aid, something about it felt wrong, or maybe just inconvenient. I told him he sounded ominous. Still, we talked by the fire like we usually would, the night settling in around us.
Then the tavern grew louder.
A sharp-tongued, cloth wrapped man named Nahlir insulted the ale and spit on the counter, then drifted towards another outsider, a drow fellow named Kol Badar, who was hunched over a large map and sprawling notes. The two of them shared that look people get when they realize they don’t belong somewhere.
The door then burst open soon after. Ethel Baines stumbled in soaked and frantic. Her son, Tomas, had gone into the old ruin called Mountain’s Spite on a dare. She begged for help and if someone would bring her boy home. Moses looked at me. I already knew the answer before he spoke.
After some short introductions, Moses, Kol, Nahlir, and myself headed into the cold rain and darker ground. Finding the cave was simple enough, us Valleyrest boys could manage that much. We entered the cave entrance and were met with the sealed up doorway, now missing a few boards at the bottom, small enough for a child to fit through. The rest of the boards gave way beneath my blade as we forced entry. The first chamber held faded murals, nearly lost to time. Moses found one still clear enough, ancient orcs, gathered beneath a single star, praying.
As I attempted to open the next door, a stone guardian animated. It nearly crushed me. The party put it down easy enough, but Moses took a hit for it.
The ruin tested us again with a riddle to open the next door. Blood opened what words could not. Kol insisted that Nahlir unwrap his hand so he may cut it. Moses then took his own blood from his now open wound and smeared it against the door. The door opened and we were met with an intersection. Directly ahead of us was a study of some sorts filled with many ruined books. Kol found one still legible, marked Experiments in Orcish. That unsettled me more than the state of the room.
We then made our way out of this room and made stride to a tomb where three sarcophagi lay. There wasn’t much of interest in here, they lay unmarked. That left us with one last route. As we traveled down the hallway, just before the bend, we were hit with a sudden blast of purple energy. It knocked us on our asses but that was all that came of it. Seemed like a deterrent, to keep folks like ourselves away. We dusted ourselves off and continued, no more traps. We made our way into what one could only assume was an altar room.
Lying in the middle of said room laid Tomas, unconscious, with a burnt tome on the ground beside him. I immediately made my way towards him to make sure he was still breathing. He was. Thank fuck… I can only imagine how distraught Mrs. Ethel would be. Moses made way towards the tome and deduced that it’s probably magical. It was smoldering and full of embers, but not burning away. We gathered what we could, Tomas draped over my shoulder. We attempted to leave when we were met with footsteps and groaning down our escape. Two undead orcs. Probably some form of necromancy and they rose from their respective graves. We made very short work, dispatching them in mere seconds.
After our short altercation, we gathered ourselves and set back on our way out of this tomb…
To be continued
