We have returned to the tower on a scouting mission, and two of our new hirelings were struck by lightning and killed. Grugenor says it is Izeldur's doing, and I can only hope he is wrong.
We have left the tower and found Izeldur is not just an empty threat. Autumn Grove has fallen and its citizens have been cursed into undeath. Leaf Olmsford fled, Canon Von Shaffer is dead, and Vittrous Merrick is beseiged in the tower. All this we learned in Holm when we spoke with Kalfax, the Governor/High Priest of Dagda.
My companions and I are at an abbey, where we are to spend the next week studying. Our plan was to look for information to aid in our search for three horns. We need the horns to destroy the sphere-artifact we used to kill Isildur.
On my first day of searching, I discovered the most fascinating material here. These are vividly colorful tomes that describe a continent called the Flanaess. I have never heard of this place and it may very well not exist, but the authors of these works have described it so well that I almost think it could be. I have begun copying pages of notes. Much of what I have read describes a Kingdom called Ulek. I already have a deeper understanding of this place's history than of Oriab.
There was a tremor last night and this morning we learned it was a sinkhole caving in two miles away. Half a caravan was consumed by it. Cherek the dwarf went himself to examine the sinkhole, but found nothing exceptional about it.
A week has passed and though I enjoyed performing for the refugees, I am consumed with the need to escape. I tried to have a dog sled constructed, but could not find a competent carpenter. The rest of the party wants to stay the winter here now. It makes no sense! What about our quest?? They have forgotten, but I have not. I have bid them farewell for now and plan to walk to Tambrey. If I survive, I will have a sled built that I can use to rescue everyone.
In the fields of rich green grasses
In meadows of flowers and clove,
Rose a band of mismatched heroes
In the Village of Autumn Grove.
[Here Dagklar's journal ends.]
Groovy Christmases Past: 1973
21 hours ago