Journal #2 - Flight to Tamalir

We stood on the edge of the cliff looking down over a slaughter. In the dim light, a trio of survivors ran for their lives up the steep path towards us before collapsing in exhaust. In the distance, trolls are silhouetted by fire. They drag people away kicking and screaming, and one figure stands on a high perch in command; he turned his back and left.
 
Mirah was mumbling to herself, saying it wasn’t supposed to happen yet. What did she get us into? Should never have trusted someone who wouldn’t reveal basic things like who you are working for and what you’ll be doing. I have to keep a close eye on her. When asked to elaborate, she mentioned The Convergence, some mingling of realms between us and the Underwood I guess. She said it was urgent to get to Tamalir as soon as possible.
 
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Dawn has now arrived, and I shudder as I think of what is happening to those these creatures took with them. Carnage is everywhere. There were 30 survivors in all, of hundreds. They agreed to flee to Tamalir together; they seemed to fear returning to Forge, as though the trolls had been secretly tracking them ever since they left that city. It didn’t make much sense to me, what I saw was not the tactics of guerillas. If they waited, it was just to have more prey easily clumped together, but these camps are active every night. Their fear spoke to them, but if it was just safety they wanted, Tamalir was several times as far as Forge. Regardless, Tamalir is my destination, so I’ll see to their safety. They proposed sending a few individuals to warn Forge of the danger, but if their fears were founded I worried about their odds of making it. I Sent a message to Esmerelda instead, sure to reach its destination.
 
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Later in the afternoon, some elf in the caravan was talking about bloodlines. High born and low born, looking at him I could tell he was the latter. Turns out, he was actually talking about trolls - sort of. He said some of the great hunters of his land were high blood elves over 900 years old, and tell ancient tales of hunting trolls before their disappearance. He claimed that low born trolls have no tusks and are smaller, with long noses and putrid eyes, but high born trolls are something else - with monstrous tusks, and they give an affliction when they bite, a single bite is sure to kill, with no known cure. He’d been asking people in the caravan if they’d been bitten, and a cart had pulled to the side of the road with fresh corpses, dead from their injuries. I had been bitten the night before, and was worried for a moment, but luckily that long nose and putrid set of eyes are fresh in my memory – it was no high blood troll, that's for sure.
 
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On the sixth day I saw Tamalir in the distance. Perhaps the most famous of free cities. Blue-green grass grew around it, in soil brought by the elves in ages past. It is the oldest of the free cities, built entirely by the elves as a gift to men. The walls shown in the sunlight like glass, and the city was free of obstruction for leagues around - no cover of forest to approach under. Instead there were farms, and small villages dotting the countryside. There are more than 20 gates into the city, although I’ve heard there are single switches on the north and south faces which can control each gate on their side simultaneously.
 
We are now in the region of Three River’s Crossing - Tamalir, Nerekhall, and Grey Haven the three cities. Grey Haven was built by the dwarves, Tamalir by the elves, and Nerekhall by men. The three races intermingle here, with the elves and dwarves building their cities to be gifted to men in ages past.
 
When we entered the city, Mirah changed. She became commanding, reminding us of having been hired. She ordered we proceed to the Silken Bow. While I knew what to expect, I was still a little awestruck by the gate when we proceeded – wide enough for fifty carriages at once. This is a free city like Forge, no lines or checkpoints, traffic flowed freely.
 
Mirah paid for our entry into the Silken Bow, a seemingly high end establishment. The staff knew her well; the Warden coaxed the Satyr out of the coach, and she turned into that long-haired woman who was being held by the giant in the orchard, some remarkable shapeshifting that. Mirah led us to a back room to see “him,” who I thought for a moment was a 14-year old boy. But that was just her brother.
 
We were in a marvelous alchemical lab, powered by a giant water wheel on the side of the establishment. It was the work of a tall, slender, white-haired high elf of Aubeline named Mallistar, brother of Allistar the Light – the others had a strong reaction to this name, though it didn’t mean much to me. After our rush to get here, he up and said he had no time for us today. Whatever pays the bills I suppose. Mirah paid for our rooms, and set a meeting early the following morning. So naturally, I spent all day playing in the streets of the city, and all night gambling on the horse races that Mirah’s brother, Arloh, was so fascinated by. I earned quite the tidy sum.
 
In the back of my mind, I’ve been composing a ballad of the troll massacre on Campfire Plateau, its nearly ready. Though, it may not hear the air of day until this is history. Can’t go scaring the masses now can I? Also this day, Mirah delivered the news to the captain of the guard regarding the danger of trolls – he seems to be her intended, and was none too happy. I also got my axes silvered - my tortoise friend Lug sprang for that, before I won big that evening. After the long night on the town, I barely had time for my head to hit the pillow before it was time to meet the old man.
 
He complained that we were late, of course. The gaul. He got a package from Noswald, a vile corrupted purple bulb, apparently infecting hundreds of their people. He was asked to make a cure, but he didn’t seem too worried over it. I can’t exactly say why he brought this up, perhaps only to show his lack of empathy. He then shifted the conversation to the recent events - trolls, satyrs, giants, and apparently a dragon though I hadn’t heard of that one. He asked if we’d heard the story of the crowns gifted to to kings - not out of royalty, but of service. It tickled my brain - there was a tale once, of a corrupted giant clan chief in the Sunken Summits, living deep underground, and gifted a crown to serve the Dark Lord. Tyberian heard a similar tale of the orcs fighting the Palanthian dwarves.
 
Mallistar agreed, and said there were five crowns in total – gifted by the dark lord in exchange for service, granting power. Orc, Underwood Troll, Giant, Goblin, and Dragon. They all accepted and served, save the latter. The dragon refused, and the cost of his refusal purportedly was an exhaustion so deep he sleeps to this day. He said the return of the kings is close, it is starting with wraiths and will escalate to full scale war, and eventually it will encompass all of Terrinoth, and beyond to other realms. He sent Allistar north, to Aryss in the frozen wastes of Ghara, to find the secrets handed down from their father, as Mallistar had been too weak to do what he must earlier.
 
Mallistar warned us that the war must be stopped before it reached these lands, before the return fully occurs. Castle Talon, on the slopes of the Carthmounts, sent warning that the black spire of Castle Dalabar has been spotted in the Mistlands, near Kalypsia’s Keep - it is the first sign. He wants us to take on the burden of destiny, take a place in history, as no one else has stood in front of the shadow itself as this group (I have yet to hear these magnificent tales).
 
This seems like some heavy stuff, perhaps this is why Mar didn’t have time for the issues of the Sunken Summits. Just as I was thinking that, Mallistar pivoted. He said without first addressing our past, we would surely be overwhelmed upon entering the walls of Dalamar within Kalypsia’s Keep.
 
He gave us each individual missions, close to our hearts. Mine was to right the deeds of the Red Witch in my homelands. He also told us to tell no one – agents of the four kings are everywhere, we may even have already met some. He knows a way into the castle, once the time comes. He also stated that the four kings could only be destroyed individually, united in force they would be unstoppable. I suspect these individual missions are less about our mental fortitude, and more about finding these kings on their own and dealing with them before entering Dalabar, but that is just my intuition.
 
He claimed that this convergence was due to planetary alignments, it had been occurring for a year now, and every minute it becomes worse. He additionally warned us of the high blood trolls - they are immune to fire, and they gain their high blood characteristics by steeping the earth in the blood of the high born of The Fated. They are weak to necrotic and radiant magics. I fear the abduction of those at the camp was for this ritual. Lastly, Mallistar said he could resupply us with his healing tinctures when we passed through the city, but he would himself be going to Castle Talon to create a diversion and challenge foes there. We can communicate with him via Sending, and his laboratory is automated so he can work it remotely.
 
We must decide which of these tasks we will approach first. It seems the consensus that our hardy gnomish fighter Orlando’s task is near at hand to the north, I expect we will head in that direction.