Journal of Boldar Blood
The place stinks of evil. Immediately we stepped into it, there was a wave of wrongness. Not the cold impure touch of undeath, but a distinct taint of a cruel evil blown on a soul destroying wind, it seemed to sap our cohesion.
We were assaulted by the priests. The battle was fierce but short, and somehow discontiguous as if we all fought alone and a not as a team. I slew the last priest and looked round, my comrades in arms seemed somehow listless. A shout drew me too the well. Air rushed into my face, and I heard the sound of the barbarians screams, the fool had jumped in and seemed to be floating on the air.
Desire not to see him fight alone pushed me to follow. Shouting to the witch and our rogue to remain on guard, I followed down the well, and marveled at the feeling of floating gently down.
I heard the cries as the barbarian sought to combat his foes, but it seemed far away.
I reached the bottom and saw a river of ice, and steam. Calling on Kelemvor for support, the divine power shielded me from the cold ice and searing water, I gained on them in time help fight off a spirit of the air.
It was only then I realised we were lost. In caverns. Having only a vague recollection of direction we ventured on, seeking to turn towards the south. We spotted some captives hung on hooks like meat in a larder
I heard voices. They seemed familiar. I saw a fleeting glimpse of Jacob. I really saw him. Pushing forward, there were the others, standing swords in hand, ready to help once more! But it is wrong! He died, they all died! Jacob by my own hand. He begged me to end it. His legs were severed and I could not deny him. Yet there he stands.
Something subconsciously alerted me. The images winked out as the monstrosity appeared. The demon had clouded our minds and was attacking. Calling on Kelemvor for aid, I attacked creature, arms strengthened by faith, once, twice…. And still it came on. Flames surrounded it making its insubstantial form clearly visible. I heard the barbarian rage and the soft chanting of magic. My comrades were with me… the beast would fall!
It’s vileness and ichor stained Notch. The blade seemed to corrode before my eyes, even as I watched the demon’s corpse decompose.
Looking round we rescued some of the creatures prisoners. A birdman, who claimed we would be welcomed at his village, two villagers, whose training as priests of the cult had failed, and a drow. The latter had tried to warn us, and parted with some intelligence, these were the cult of elemental wind. They worshipped Yan C Bin, and their activities were a challenge to the drow. He was tasked with watching but had been caught. He alluded to other cults… before he died.
Searching the area we discovered an invisible chest. It yielded to my hammer blows. Gold and jewels were less important than the two items of real worth. Magical weapons enchanted with power!
Retracing our steps, and following the priests back to the lift shaft. They were persuaded to help use escape before they fled.
Reunited with our comrades we advanced onto the upper floor of the temple.
Windharrow sat before his priestess. A stunning elf woman with wings. She greeted us, advising that, even though we had inflicted harm, she held no ill will. She offered us a deal.
She knew we sought the cult of the Crushing Wave, my heart leapt. If we choose to leave, she would tell us where to find them! She seemed somehow strangely insincere, seeming to answer questions not asked, and take not offence at obvious slights? Was she real, or an illusion, or simply mad?
She didn’t seem to press for a promise, she merely provided the information. Her relish was obvious. Did she haves something against the Crushing Wave.
We turned to leave, her laughter seemed to ring out, almost maniacal.
She would have to be dealt with… but we needed a safe place to rest.
Moving out into the dwarven city, we moved towards buildings but were immediately spotted by a wyvern rider. The rider was a one of the craven knights! Advancing quickly we engaged, his wyvern striking out with sinuous speed. The wicked tail slashing. The creatures blocked our attempts to unseat the knight, until the driud used a thorn whip to unseat the rider. Such a display of strength from the little gnome! With the vile knight dead the steed fled. Part of my wereguild is paid!
We sought a building. The Bard conjured a protective hut, we were about to enter, when this cursed place had one more surprise. A creature of darkness fell on the bard, enclosing him in its folds, his screams muffled. We struck at it, cutting into the creature and hearing compelling screams from the bard. With great strength he seemed to tear the creature off him, leaving it vulnerable. We slew it quickly prior to gaining much needed rest, albeit with a double guard…
