Kab Melekh Expedition Journal

The following is the text of a journal recovered from the ill-fated Alderni expedition to Kab Melekh.
The journal was written by Erwin Osthart-Bheuren, an archeologist and ostensibly the leader of the expedition. The other members of the expedition have been identified as:

• "Knight-Intelligencer Beatitude Rodeloper", better known as Beatrix Bheuren van Crassen, the Queensknife-Designate.
• "Reeve-Martial Markus Jager", actually Provost-Lieutenant Marcello Argiola-Sarren, a senior agent of the Queenknife.
• Reeve-Martial Julius Schrijver, an agent of the Queensknife, and twin brother of Ansen Schrijver.
• Serjeant Azmera Brightstar, an artificer of the Cohort of Artillery.
• Serjeant Lupo Corsini, of the Tower Guard

Aside from Beatrix, all the above are believe to have been killed by the doppelganger Tzatu'yshan.
Others mentioned by name in the journal include:

• Jan Lessing, a Queensknife agent in the city of Sassenheim.
• Ricarda and Francesca di Maretti di Sabartia, Queensknife agents in the town of Sabartia
• Zanyar, a gnomish trader of mechanical curiosities in Bregzana
• Sarah, Erwin Osthart-Bheuren's daughter, who was not present on the expedition but was mentioned once in the journal.
• Robert Fletcher of Awenmeet, a Corlish bounty hunter who Beatrix now understands to have been in pursuit of the deserter Adelina Schwaren-Erastes and her unit.
• Mes Murderhand, Queen of the Claws of Nerazh; not present, but mentioned due to her connection to the local goblins.

Day one

Day one of the expedition.
Weather dry, wind southwesterly.

We gathered at the Sassenheim docks at first light. Our contact, who only ever gave his name as Jan but who showed the seal of the Queensknife to prove his credentials, issued me the sealed instructions that I was to open once we had reached the anomaly, and explained our task. We boarded the merchant cog known as “Mistral’s Breath”, a flat-bottomed ship of a rather nondescript nature, and set sail for Sabartia. The crossing was pleasant enough, though Azmera was quite violently ill throughout the voyage.

We have found lodging at various taverns on the Sabartian docks, adopting the guise of merchants; I am overnighting at a rather rowdy establishment that goes by the name of the “Salter’s Arms”, which a local told me at great length was one of the few original buildings to remain standing after “those Royalist bastards” set the town ablaze during the revolution. As one might imagine, I decided to hold my tongue on that matter!

Day two

Day two of the expedition.
Weather dry, wind westerly.

Following Jan’s instructions, we acquired mules and wagons from the Maretti sisters, and began the journey east. The road is easy and travel was uneventful; we broke for the night and camped outside the village of Precello, a little over halfway to Bregzana.

Day three

Day three of the expedition.
Weather a little damp, wind northwesterly.

We reached Bregzana today, and took the opportunity to stock up on supplies. Though we focussed on acquiring the various sundries that were needed for the expedition - vastly overpriced, as we expected - I happened across a gnome trading under the name of "Zanyar's Emporium", who had quite the collection of mechanical curiosities which she swore were imported all the way from Parath! I purchased two items from her - a curious clockwork amulet which she told me would eliminate certain kinds of unpredictability, and a little music box which I am sure will make an excellent gift for Sarah’s twelfth name-day.

Day four

Day four of the expedition.
Weather damp, wind westerly.

A long day today - we pressed on to Paracannia rather than spend another night on the road.

Day five

Day five of the expedition.
Weather extremely wet, wind westerly.

Day spent in Paracannia due to thunderstorms - took the pragmatic approach that we would not get far in this weather and thus rest and recuperation was probably the best option.

Ran into a Corlish bounty hunter by the name of Robert Fletcher of Awenmeet, who asked if we were headed into the mountains - it seems that every other person in this town is - and warned us that whilst the Old Road along the banks of the Cannia was safe enough, the woods to the North and South were home to any number of bandits and other dangers. He said that he was waiting for other members of his company to arrive, as they were planning to go hunting for an infamous group of bandits in the hills to the north whom he believed were Alderni deserters. If these deserters are in the area of the anomaly, we must be exceptionally careful.

Day six

Day six of the expedition.
Weather wet, wind westerly.

Decided that the weather, though ill-tempered, was not so dreadful as to completely impede our progress onwards. After eight hours on the Old Road, I am starting to regret that choice!

Julius’s calculations suggest that we are perhaps fifteen miles from the anomaly. Tomorrow we break from the road, and head north into the forest.

Day seven

Day seven of the expedition.
Weather damp, wind southwesterly.

We continue to press towards the anomaly, at rather a reduced pace due to the rough ground and inclement weather. By Julius’ reckoning it is perhaps only ten miles away as we make camp here tonight.

Day eight

Day eight of the expedition.
Weather extremely wet, wind southwesterly.

Slow going today - wagons were bogged down due to mud. Only managed to travel two miles the whole day!

Day nine

Day nine of the expedition
Weather wet, wind westerly

We abandoned the wagons when it became clear that they were going to be a liability in the forest; we took as much as we could carry and left the rest of our supplies in the wagons. Markus suggested that we hide the wagons in a gully, concealed beneath tree-branches. They are well hidden, but we should be able to return to them without too much difficulty - by my reckoning they are due south of the ruined tower which Lupo tells me is locally known as "Tofana's Cell", in a gully thick with ferns between two hills.

We eventually camped at the edge of the forest below the hills on which Tofana’s Cell stands. Lupo tells me that it is said to be haunted by the restless spirit of a notorious witch. Regardless of the truth or otherwise of these stories, we decided to give the place a wide berth.

Day ten

Day ten of the expedition.
Weather wet, wind westerly

Whilst heading towards the anomaly, we encountered the goblins who dwell in this region; they call themselves the Tribe of Zhenzh (pronounced as to rhyme with “henge”), and by their iconography Markus assessed that they were likely a vassal-tribe of “Queen” Mes Murderhand and the Tribe of Nerazh. If “Queen” Mes’ reputation is anything to go by, we should expect them to be a treacherous and greedy bunch, regardless of anything else.

Beatitude was able to converse with them a little - they apparently were unprepared for hostilities, or at least did not consider us a sufficiently soft target to prey upon. After a small pay-off, the Zhenzhi were surprisingly talkative - they told us that they had no particular objection to our presence in the area provided that we did not bother them and stayed away from their stockade, a few miles to the north. When Beatitude asked whether they had seen anything unusual in the area, however, they became quite irate and told us in no uncertain terms were we to approach the dwarven ruins, or they would be forced to take up arms against us!

I am not certain of which ruins the goblins are referring to - the only site of note in this region is Kinik Kataris, which does not seem at all likely and is not dwarven in any case. Azmera told me that she vaguely remembered some stories from her childhood about there being some lost dwarven ruins in the forest, but that she could not recall the specifics. I suspect that matters will become clearer in time - though if we are forced to fight our way through a goblin tribe to get to the anomaly I most certainly do not relish the prospect.

We have set our camp at the foot of another hill, to the eastern edge of a large meadow. A little while after the sunset, we could see a lantern light moving in the meadow, perhaps half a mile away from us, as if being carried by someone moving carefully through the meadow. I tried to get a glimpse of the lantern-bearer through my spyglass, but a thin mist had descended upon the meadow and I was unable to make out the figure who carried the lamp. They paused for several minutes at one particular point in the meadow, before slowly moving to another point and pausing again; they repeated this thrice more, stopping at five locations in the meadow before returning to the forest at the western edge of the clearing.

I was unsure what to make of this observation; but suspect that, even if it were not for the goblins, we are not alone in this valley. My gravest concern in this matter is that perhaps the Savurans have likewise learned of the anomaly and are themselves racing to locate it.

Day eleven

Day eleven of the expedition.
Weather wet, wind northwesterly.

Markus and Julius took to scouting northwards - Julius tells me that the anomaly is only a little more than a mile from our camp, though there is still no visual clue as to where it might be. They returned empty handed, though they did successfully locate the goblin stockade, which is perhaps a mile north-east from where we are camped, in a sheltered valley on the other side of the hill.

Beatitude and I spent some time examining the meadow - which in the light of day was revealed to be rather more a swamp - for any trace of the lantern-bearer or their activities, alas achieving no success whatsoever in either venture. We did not venture especially far into the swamp, after Beatitude caught sight of the tell-tale signs of stirge nests, and before long we were soaked to the skin and thoroughly miserable in any case, and thus wrote the matter off as a lost cause.

This evening, the lamp-bearer returned, again stopping at the same five locations. Once more I attempted to view it through my spyglass, and once more the mists were most uncooperative. Markus and I spoke on this, and he agreed that tomorrow night he would enter the swamp and lie in wait near one of the places where the lamp-bearer stopped, in the hope of catching a glimpse of them.

Day twelve

Day twelve of the expedition.
Weather extremely wet, wind westerly.

Spent most of the day in the tent. Both Beatitude and I are feeling a little worse for wear, perhaps as a result of our time in the marsh yesterday, and thus we dedicated our time to reviewing our findings so far. Beatitude has been sending messages back through her stone since we arrived in Savura, and has been receiving intelligence updates, which I replicate below. I chided her for being less forthcoming than she might have been about some of this, particularly the divinatory information regarding "Kab Melekh" - she was sat not six feet away when Azmera and I were discussing the matter of dwarven ruins two days ago, and said not a word. She offered only the most perfunctory of apologies, and claimed - unbelievably - that it had simply slipped her mind!


Missive, Day One: Ardent Anchor. Arrived safely, proceeding as planned. Please confirm by this means that we are to continue.
Reply, Day One: Boisterous Acolyte. We confirm receipt of your missive. No further updates at this time. Continue as planned.


Missive, Day Three: Cowardly Capon. We have reached Bregzana without attracting any suspicion. No further updates at this time.
Reply, Day Three: Dented Coracle. We confirm. No further updates at this time. Continue as planned.


Missive, Day Five: Enigmatic Elder. Delayed by weather in Paracannia. Reports of bandits and deserters in hills between here and Cameri. Please advise on safety of approach.
Reply, Day Five: Flickering Elation. Diviners queried, update tomorrow.


Received, Day Six: Ghostly Fortress. Divination report: “No harm shall they risk before they enter the valley of Kab Melekh”. Refers rumoured dwarven tomb complex. More to follow.
Reply, Day Six: Heroic Festival. Missive received. We shall set out today. We await your next missive.


Received, Day Seven: Irate Giant. Summary of lore: Tomb of Melekhandra, last Queen of Vash Ossai, who guards against an ancient evil. Full utterance follows via personal sendings.
Reply, Day Seven: Jealous Griffon. I await your sending.


I queried her on the additional sendings on this matter; she shrugged it off and said that they just said the same thing as the summary in much more flowery language, and didn’t make the matter any clearer. I was more than a little sceptical of this, especially given her neglect of mentioning Kab Melekh at an earlier juncture, but did not press the matter further as there was something about her manner that rather perturbed me.


Missive, Day Nine: Kindly Icicle. We are within five miles. Baggage carts stashed in gully due south of tower called “Tofana’s Cell”. Nothing else to report.
Reply, Day Nine: Leathery Ibis. Missive received, no further divinatory information as yet.

Missive, Day Eleven: Majestic Knight. Made contact with goblin tribe of Zhenzh, who unprompted mentioned existence of Dwarven ruins. Possible sighting of other parties in region. Divinatory update?
Reply, Day Eleven: Noisome Kingfisher. Diviners queried, update tomorrow.


Received, Day Twelve: Obtuse Lion. Divination report: “Beware the Strangling One, begotten of the Spider of Shadow, who shall walk among you. Danger lurks in the Gatekeeper's Darkness.”
Reply, Day Twelve: Prideful Lancer. Please provide further context at your soonest convenience!


This last missive was received whilst we were in the process of collating our findings so far; Beatitude and I were both perplexed and rather perturbed by it, though I suppose it is the way of such divinations to be both vague and ominous. I have asked her to update me on any further divinations on the subject, though nothing has been forthcoming yet and we must therefore wait upon the Gilded Tower's response.


Markus made a somewhat snide remark that seemed to imply that he thought there was something improper going on between Beatitude and I; I elected to ignore his insinuation rather than dignify it with a response.


Azmera and Julius spent the morning surveying the area from the hilltop, until the inclement weather forced them back to camp - but whilst they were not able to gain all the measurements that they wished, they believed they knew approximately where the anomaly was located. It would appear to be upon, or perhaps within, a hill a little way to the north-west of the goblin stockade.


In the evening, Markus concealed himself in the marsh just before nightfall, and waited for the lamp-bearer’s arrival. We were not disappointed; the lamp-bearer appeared as predicted and approached the place where Markus hid - before the light was abruptly extinguished.


Markus returned an hour later, covered in mud and nursing a twisted ankle. The lamp-bearer had spotted him, and attempted to make an escape - and Markus had tried to pursue them, only to stumble painfully and lose his quarry. Nonetheless, Markus confirmed our suspicions when I put them to him privately - from the way that he was dressed and how he acted, the lamp-bearer was most likely a member of the Savuran military.


It is now more urgent than ever that we reach the anomaly, whether this be the tomb of Melekhandra or some other place.

Day thirteen

Day Thirteen of the Expedition
Weather damp, wind southwesterly.

We have reached the anomaly! Based on Azmera and Julius’ calculations, we managed to triangulate the location of the anomaly to a pass between the hills, and indeed found what we believe to be an entryway, sealed away behind a rockfall. The entrance is overlooked by a heavily weathered stone statue; I cannot account for how this place has not been discovered previously, save perhaps that it was formerly concealed by some facet of the anomaly's effect. Beatitude’s familiar spirit, in the form of a snake, was able to squeeze through the rocks and view what lay beyond: an antechamber of sorts, dominated by a great statue of some dwarven warrior - who I can only assume is the “Melekhandra” that Beatitude’s messages referenced.

I have now opened my sealed orders; for the sake of propriety, I shall not comment on their contents herein, other than to say that only now do I understand the true gravity of the situation that we find ourselves in, and the reasons why certain matters were being kept from me.

“Beatitude”, it transpires, has been aware of this since the beginning, as well as a number of pertinent facts that, whilst in retrospect they do not surprise me, I have been sworn to secrecy on and shall not commit to paper. She likewise was able to offer satisfactory explanations to certain other matters which I have elected not to record in this journal, including that of her true identity and the degree of authority that she wields, and the contents of the additional sendings which she had not shared with me. I must admit that I felt quite the idiot, and can only hope for the sake of my career that I have not caused any deep offence.

As of this moment, B. has taken command of the expedition. In accordance with my instructions, I have now burned my sealed orders.

Day fourteen

Day Fourteen
Weather damp, wind westerly.

Treacherous goblins! Julius stumbled back into the camp this morning, out of breath and wild-eyed with fright. He and Markus were ambushed by goblins near the cave entrance; Markus was brought down but he managed to get away.

We armed ourselves and rushed to the cave entrance, but there was no sign of him. The goblins must have taken him. We advanced on the goblin stockade, only to find it abandoned; the goblins must have cleared out immediately after the attack, knowing that we would respond like this.

We spent the whole day combing the area for any sign of Markus or the goblins, but none were found. I fear none of us will sleep well tonight.

Day fifteen

Day Fifteen
Weather dry, wind southwesterly

Lupo found Markus’ corpse in the bushes at the edge of the meadow this morning. He had been stripped of everything by those filthy scavengers, even the shirt from his back. I conducted a short funeral service, and we burned his body on a pyre. Unto the Daughters, may his soul be delivered.

We pressed on, and have been working on clearing the rubble from the cave-entrance. The work is exhausting, but it keeps the mind occupied and free of mournful thoughts. The goblins have yet to return - perhaps we have been lucky in this regard.

Though Markus’ death is tragic in and of itself, there are three things that stick in my mind. Firstly - that his corpse showed no arrow or sword wounds; second - how in the name of the Nine Daughters did he end up there?; and third - that by my estimation, Markus appeared to have been dead for several days. I put this to B. in private, and she was as perplexed as I about these findings.

What the hells is going on?

Day sixteen

Day Sixteen
We finally cleared the rubble from the entrance, and have reached the entry chamber - though the passage beyond remains blocked by rockfall. Azmera was able to translate the runes within the antechamber - the symbols of the dark god Stythe upon the walls, and an inscription upon the base of the statue which I shall copy verbatim:

Several pages of the journal were torn out at this point.

Final fragment

… that this will be enough. The passageway is sealed, and the wards stand for now; if the goblins speak true then perhaps it is merely a case of outlasting the danger. I shall speak to B. and advise caution.


Damn that hellspawned witch! B. was in quite the fury - she still intends to open the Tomb, with the intent of using her formula to deny it to the enemy if needed. I told her that I didn't see how we could possibly justify this risk; she berated me for cowardice and demanded that I hand over my notes, and when refused she performed some kind of magic upon me, forcing me to tear out the pages that referred to what we had found within the Tomb and give them to her, and stormed off into the woods. I don't know where she will go or what she intends to try - though I imagine that she will need to return to either us or the baggage carts sooner or later - and I'm not entirely sure I actually care any more; I will not be following her to my death, regardless of who she may claim to be. I doubt that she will be able to get through the sealed passageway without assistance. Now Lupo and I are the only ones left. We'll stay in the camp tonight, and then head back to the carts in the morning.