Dollano 30, SP~4,909

Rhonda Floam

The Way Out

A number of events from this day must be faithfully recounted.

First of all, the creature that had the gray stone in its possession, the enemy who pursued us for so long, is gone and, according to Donnessling, was hurt badly and won’t be coming back any time soon. Second, it’s not dead, also according to Donnessling. I trust that he knows.

The third thing is that Sheshoffis cannot be woken. The good news is that he’s not dead. Donnessling tried everything that he could, but the wound was simply beyond his abilities to heal, even if he had not been wounded himself and utterly fatigued as he tried. Tollerring had urged him to use the white stone, but he told us that he could not. Apparently each stone requires any new master to learn about the stone before they can use it. As Donnessling told it, the Stone and its user must bond with each other, and that process could take a good deal of time. Much more than what Donnessling had.

Note to Self: So, how is it that Donnessling could use the purple stone that he captured from Begkragk so quickly? There is more going with that than meets the idea. A good story to investigate if we live to tell the tale!

When Donnessling finally stopped his efforts to cure Sheshoffiss, he told us that he had been able to save Sheshoffiss from death, but just barely, and that the zweyjen required more skills than he could provide. He said he knew of a sorcerer’s cabal in Berimandry that could aid our friend.

Last thing, and the worst (but perhaps most expected) was that we could hear the moraktatha advancing toward us. They had clearly been frightened off by the gray creature, and then even more by the battle of lights, but at last they were regaining their courage. Or, perhaps their hunger was proving greater than their fear.

Whatever it might be, we had to leave and leave immediately.

Donnessling told us that we could not go back the way we had come. It was too dangerous, and, though no one said it, we were all relieved that we would not take that course.

The exit that we had originally sought only hours earlier was not far away and we made haste for that with several of us carrying Sheshoffiss’ unmoving form. I also noticed that Tollerring was helping Donnessling forward. They were trying to hide it from the rest of us, but I could tell. I’m sure Donnessling wanted none of his to know just how weakened he was.

The exit was not hard to find. It was a large opening and looked as though it had at one time been quite elegant. The remains of columns bordered the opening on either side and beneath there was a border trimming the doorway that had once been elegant and, I think, contained words in an ancient language. Once inside I could see that the tunnel walls were old and covered in grime. There were patches where well-fashioned tiles shone through.

I was sad to leave these mysteries behind, but time was of the essence, and I could already feel the tug of Emotion Energy from the mass of moraktatha approaching us.

As we made our way down the tunnel, I could feel the malevolent pull of those foul creatures lessen. It would seem they would not pursue us past the confines of the cavern. I could feel the fear leave me, and I could see the shoulders of my nossring comrades ease as they, too, could tell that we were now beyond their reach.

We marched through the passage for many hours. It would frequently turn one direction or the other and there were many passageways that we met and crossed, and sometimes took. Donnessling’s knowledge of this place was impressive. Even amazing, though there were a couple times when I thought I saw a quick flash from the green stone as he took a minute to consider a direction for us or a choice among alternative tunnels.

The first sign that we were near the end was the fresh smell of trees and some flowers. As the tunnel turned sharply to the left and veered steeply up we could see a bright stream of light ahead. Our pace quickened and the tunnel suddenly turned into a wide, tall cavern. At its end was a doorway that must have been at least sixty feet high, and the sunlight was now strong and clear. We covered the last few hundred yards in no time and emerged onto a wide, flat shelf far above the plains below. There, far below us, tucked into a pocket between two spurs of the mountain, was the City of Berimandry.

It was mid-day. We had traveled through the night, and had traveled and fought before that. Our exhaustion finally settled on us all. We would have continued if Donnessling had commanded it (that is how loyal his nossring comrades were to him, as was I), but he could see our state, and his was no better (likely worse), so he gave instructions for us to eat something and to rest. The words had barely left his lips when he lay down against a mossy covered side of the small plateau and fell asleep.

At that point Tollerring took charge to make sure everyone had food and he stood guard as the rest of us slept.

When he woke us, the sun was low in the sky. The last of our journey took us down the mountain and to the outskirts of the city. Donnessling led us to the house of a farmer who knew Donnessling and welcomed him with open arms, as did his family.

Here is where we will spend the night. The farmer, a man named Kellen, sent two of his sons to fetch the sorcerers who would, hopefully, help to heal Sheshoffiss from his deep wounds. They should arrive first thing in the morning.

And now my day is done. We are safe in this place and we were fed again, with an abundance of fresh food. That has restored at least some of our aches, and it gave me the strength to write this entry.

Now I will join my companions for a long night of needed sleep, and we will see what comes to us tomorrow.