For my taste, we encountered death to many times today. My hopes of being relieved from the disturbing memories of our visit of Agatha were quickly shattered as she haunted me throughout the night, stealing every bit of rest from me. Gladly none of the others faced such nightmares, maybe my efforts in calming my friends yesterday achieved at least a little in that regard. We knew that undead and orcs might be around from our inquiries in Phandalin so we were more careful than before in our watches through the night, which was thankfully without any incidents. With the dawning sun we broke camp, setting off into the direction of Old Owl Well
We did not have to travel far until we came into view of the distant, crumpled remains of a tower, marking our destination. So many ruins in the last week! For once I will enjoy the crowded, mostly dirty and reeking but living streets of Neverwinter, if we return. When we drew closer to the tower, movement could be seen amongst the rubble. And much to our dismay, ten rotten corpses stood in the yard of the muniment, ostensibly awaiting our arrival. They began moving towards us, a foul smell of rotten flesh traveling ahead of the bunch. Without talking we all instinctively agreed that such malevolent creatures must be eradicated and so rushed to attack them. As disgusting as these creatures are, they appreciatively went back to the dead without too much effort. Although it was disturbing to witness them losing limbs or intestines without so much as making a noise about it. Thus, we slayed the first of the zombies, damaging two others in the meantime, when a man emerged from a tent yet unnoticed by us in the centre of the yard. His head was covered in ink, a tattoo that identified him as a necromancer and absolvent of the school of the Red Wizards of Thay, as Archie later told us. He asked about our desires at this place and we went to sit down and talk with him, but not before Archie attacked him in his panic. I fear the events of the last few days were too much for the poor lad, his nerves are giving in. Understandable at his age, I also was not too fond of the idea to simply talk to this man surrounded by zombies. I may speak with him later to hopefully ease his stress somewhat.
Fortunately, beside the hastened attack, the wizard consented to sit down with us and talk. He called himself Hamun Kost and stated he was researching who was responsible for building this place and what happened to it. He appeared to have a genuine historical interest in the ruins. Still it was more than a little odd to hear him refer to the undead around as his company, he allegedly preferred to the one of the living. To our question, to what end he conducts his research he closed himself, unwilling to share any further information. To be honest, it certainly was none of our business, yet my curiosity was not satisfied with such a response. I could see on the faces of my companions that they shared my sentiment. But it was of no use to try to convince Hamun otherwise. Grum was sceptical enough to demand to be shown the interior of his tent to figure, whether no harmful rituals might be conducted here. The necromancer gave way to this rude request which astonished me more than anything that was said previously through this conversation. Inside the tent, Grum did not find anything particularly disturbing. Hamun appealed towards Grum to our services as adventurers to help him in two affairs. He wanted to ask Agatha, who was responsible for building the tower, not knowing how our encounter with the banshee went only one day ago. Additionally, he also told Grum he had some nasty confrontation with orcs near Wyvern Tor, in line with the mission proposed to us by Harbin in Phandalin. He said the orcs were interfering with his research, destroying his fellow zombies. Yet he offered no further explanation what he might hope to find there, neither any kind of reward for helping him. As we want to take care of the orcs anyway, we might well head there next, yet I am not fond of visiting the cursed home of Agatha a second time…
Finding nothing that might give us any intel regarding Hamun’s intentions, we went back to our camp. There, we agreed to investigate a little more. Grum mentioned, his shapeshifting ability might not only be useful in combat, as small animals may well get into places, none of us would ever manage. His bravery and readiness to self-sacrifice brought a small tear to my eyes, this was no time to get sentimental however, if we desired to know more about the strange man and his undead company. Therefore, we waited until nightfall and Grum set out to his task. He came back just an hour ago, thankfully unharmed. I could not have born to lose him, especially for such a small thing. He did not learn anything new however, Hamun just studied some scrolls, presumably tied to his research. It does only seem like further investigations would take time without purpose, time we cannot spare.
Come the morrow, we will approach this Wyvern Tor. Hopefully none of its namesakes will still be around…