Journal #18 - Journeys and Tales

Firefly had spoken frequently through these trials that he would never set foot in Noswald again; he begged me, and others, to go with him on a tour of the free cities, traveling wherever was necessary to remain safe and coddled. However, as we turned towards Almstead Castle to warn them, he seemed to have a change of heart.
 
We began descending the mountainside to reach the coast of Noswald Yard. It was a tough climb, and it tested our strength. At one point, we noticed a flock of griffins migrating north from the plains to the Aymhelin, it was an awe inspiring sight as we stood on the cliffside seeing the broad vista and these magnificent creatures.
 
We journeyed on, and eventually came across a cave. I stayed outside with Firefly, while the others were eager to explore. I had seen enough of stone enclosures for a while personally. I was enjoying the clean air and the stiff breeze, and the next thing I knew a boulder smashed the mountain wall, coming straight out of the cave! Firefly and I were immediately concerned, so we approached the cave mouth, being careful not to reveal ourselves. It seemed there was a giant inside, I heard it speaking and could tell by his voice and his accent that he was a native speaker. He was ranting about mycology and disturbing of the peace - he seemed quite defensive of the cave, which appeared to be his home. I can empathize with that. Who knows what Lug was trying to do in there.
 
I decided to try to calm the situation as tensions were rising inside, and I briefly explained a tune to Firefly for him to harmonize as I began chanting the March of the Giants, most famous of giant songs, originating from my homeland in the Ru’Steppes. I told of the giant migration from the Steppes out of Hy’dera, as they marched westward and created the very rivers like an enormously fast glacier migration.
 
At last, I walked into the cave while continuing the song. The giant seemed to appreciate it, and he said that he hadn't heard such small fingers make such a nice melody - he was clearly referring to Firefly, but I didn’t call attention to that. He let us stay the night inside.
 
In the morning, he led us to his pulley system to make a quick descent from the cliffs, for the promise of never returning. He also tried to trade a full sized rocking horse for Lug. I was tempted to take the deal but Domino instead tempted him with a carving of a Tortle instead. He gave us a metal windchime, fashioned in the shape of five pinecones. He seemed to think this was a fitting toy for Ghiravont, whom he regarded as a child.
 
After the descent, which took about half an hour, we bade our farewell. We were in a small grove around a nice pond with overhanging rocks. Onwards we trudged. As we walked, Domino spoke to Amber and the others pursuing Red, and learned they’d made it as far as Vynevale, just north of the Greywood in the valley before the Mounts of Morshan, just west of Ru’Steppes. They are hot on the heels of the Red Witch.
 
As we approached the southernmost bridge over the river north of Mordas, Lug departed. He went to visit his home in the Kurama Swamp. He would meet up with us after we departed Almstead Castle. We delivered some short news to a guard captain at the bridge, and a letter to be delivered to the Emperor post haste. We then took ship ourselves to reach the city.
 
At Almstead, we immediately went to the palace and met the Hand at the top of the lift. We were on our way to meet the Emperor. Briefly we spoke to Councilman Salene, from Al-Kaleem I believe. Then we were ushered into the Emperor’s audience chamber.
 
Emperor Ragnadon sat his throne. Beneath him on the first step of the dias stood Commandant Posh, Hand of the Emperor. At the Emperor’s side stood a dangerous looking deep elf, with ornate silver-armored robes, a crystalline black circlet on his brow with a black gemstone inset - Lord Xandrian Arzack, advisor to a king in the north.
 
I quietly listened as Ghiravont and the others explained our findings and the dangers presented to Pylanthia, and through that to Noswald. This Arzack fellow tried to play down the dangers at every moment, he seemed very suspicious to me. Eventually I had enough and broke in, trying to explain the imminent threat. I didn’t achieve much. Our audience was concluded, and we departed, though Domino was held back for some private business with the emperor.
 
In our rooms, we spoke privately with Posh, who we could speak to candidly. It was at that point that Korrigash explained what happened with the ancient tomb of the dwarf lord and the ring. He described it as belonging to a Dwarf of the Three, only a true heir to Pylanthia could wear it and bring it back to how it was. Out of nowhere, Alastar the Light appeared, saying we were meant to find the ring, and that was Korrigash said was true. He said the ring had within it a Shard of Tamaran, was one of the First, and that there was not one such ring, but three. A ring for Dwarves, a ring for Elves, and a ring for Men. This was the Dwarvish ring, and we were already in pursuit of the ring of men, it was Mar’s ring, now likely in the possession of the Red Witch, or her cronies in the Black Quartz.
 
While he was there, he took back a gift of youth from a man named Orville, who became an aged man quickly dying before our eyes. The others seem struck by this, but I didn’t even know the man.
 
It was then that Alastar revealed to us dreadful news - people were fooled, and poisoned. Madam Farosia, who had been working closely with the empire regarding their disease outbreak, and who Ghiravont and Lug had donated blood to for research, and Ghiravont had received some treatment from, was a fraud. An alias of a blood witch who also went by Lady Duvall, the Red Witch, and who was truly named Malice, Daughter of Maldronos, reincarnated to this fresh form as Magdalena, half-sister of Domino, through her father Count Rasaravich, and now his heir.
 
She is not in fact seeking to cure the Lycanthropy outbreak, but instead to control and propagate it. Alastar only then learned of the blood vials from our friends, freely given. It is a terrible situation.
 
Suddenly, Ghiravont was attacked mentally, and then occupied by another. The Witch spoke through his mouth, whoever took his blood will “wear the skin of the Red Witch” in the Sunken Summits, where we were told to meet her, as she intends to conquer the world in her way - terraforming it through transmutation, an exchange of life, in a gigantic ritual which would take a hundred wizards a hundred days to complete, an ancient ritual of first age magic. She is an enemy to all, a wild card, not allied with the Dark Lord or his black kings, and not against him either.
 
At the same time Ghiravont was losing control of himself, Alastar muttered about having to consult with another of the Prismatic Alliance, and turned into an owl, flying off.
 
Ghiravont wrested control back, and Domino yelled a warning that we would be framed for the death of Orville. At the same time nearly, a guard troop arrived led by Hanz, Captain of the Guard. They came following a report from Farosia concerning a murder.
 
How would Farosia have learned of the “murder” ? It had happened not by her hand, but by Alastar retracting some spell. I wonder if she had seen it through Ghiravont’s eyes, but that was some quick acting to be here already. Regardless, time was short. Ghiravont spoke to Hanz who gave us a few minutes before forcibly entering. We then hurried to a secret passage, which apparently the others knew about beforehand but had never opened.
 
Down we went quickly to leave the castle. Before I set foot outside, I turned myself into Darmak the Deepdelver, my alter ego as a dwarven archeologue. As there were only two orcs in all of Noswald to my knowledge, it would not do to stick out so clearly.
 
We hurried to the harbor, and took ship once more northwards to Jendra Harbor. We stopped to pick up Lug on the west coast. Eighty days we spent at sea, and the Witch was heavy on my heart. When might she begin this spell? Time was wasting, and my homeland might be ruined forever.
 
As we sailed into the bays of the Kingless Coast, I eagerly stood on the ship’s prow. A cry went up from the crow’s nest, and then I noticed it, smoke on the horizon…