Gozran 22, 4710
I was dreaming of years past, back when I first took Bones home to Oleg’s trading post as a wolf pup. Life was simpler then. Sir Thorne and the others were gathered around the table in the yard talking to a newcomer. Kesten patrolled the walls with the brothers Soupson, and Oleg was mounting the head of a slain troll on the side of his barn. Bones ran up to investigate a small lizard creature hopping excitedly on the table, and as I approached the newcomer turned to me and said…
I awoke in a start to Daeron shouting in the midst of the abandoned fort. Above us in the air hovered a black shadow of smoke with flesh-torn skeletal arms. My bow was out in a flash and I found myself on my feet. Sir Thorne quickly moved to mount Noble Steed and Gazl jumped up still in his sleeping robes.
Before we even had time to mount a defense the creature was lashing out at Daeron with it’s unearthly claws. As I fired shot after shot at the hovering creature, Gazl put up holy defenses. Sir Thorne struggled to get his lance in position to charge. However, Daeron could not escape the creature’s assault, and seemed to have garnered the creature’s sole wrath. As it swooped from the air with a particularly vicious strike, we saw the light fade from Daeron’s eyes as a spectre of his being floated up into the creature’s grasp.
Enraged, Gazl blasted forth a column of holy light that decimated the shade. And as the smoke-beast dissipated, the spectral form of Daeron seemed to float back down into his body.
We were all crowded over Daeron’s body as Gazl frantically chanted his divine spells. I at that oint knew that I had watched my friend die… but at that moment Daeron’s eyes burst open and he started gasping for breath.
Gazl immediately embraced the startled Daeron, still ghostly pale from his encounter. Sir Thorne’s grim face turned into a bright smile as he let out a hearty, and relieved laugh. I am not usually one for shows of emotion, but I had to smile that the elf I so respected had not perished.
We allowed Daeron to rest awhile more, but resolved that we should move at first light. Daeron was still insistent we had been been spied upon via some sort of bird, and that the creature had been sent to murder us. Paranoia or no, there was definitely dark magicks afoot.Our only real lead on the disappearance of the Varnhold citizenry lied with the Nomen Centaur Tribe in the plains to the East, and so we rode at the crack of dawn.
More to come…