Valyan's Heirs

Kira's Journals

Journal,

I've always thought of myself as a fairly intelligent windling. I mean, I would have to be very perceptive to be a professional treasure hunter. There's a lot of danger in my line of work. But what has happened to me and my adventuring crew over the last week or so has made feel about as perceptive as a blind troll.

It started when we got back to Valyan's Legacy. The first thing we did was tell Kelric's parents and Banstar's master about their untimely deaths doing their duties as protectors of the city and defending their friends. A funeral service was held that evening to remember them and their names were added to a stone with all the names of the Protectors who had fallen before them. After the service, Rezak and I were made protectors in our friends' place. I'm sort of new to the area, so I'm not really sure what that means, but if Banstar and Kelric could do it, I guess it cant be that hard. But Ill put on a brave face and act like I'm a bit scared so I don't hurt anybody's feelings.

But it wasn't the funeral service that made me feel stupid. It was the chain of events that started just before that. We were all in the tavern, just having a few drinks and relaxing after a very stressful few months without any real break, when I noticed a group of adepts that were obviously new to their line of work all huddled together at a table and seeming very excited about something. My eye caught something piled on their table that looked oddly familiar. When I finally realized what it was and the state it was in, it was all I could do not to want to run for my life. But, keeping myself together, I made my way over to their table, only to have my suspicions confirmed. What I saw piled on the table was the same tablet that we recovered from the "missing caravan" a few months before, except that this tablet was reduced to a pile of rubble on the tavern table. The group said that the tablet was a reward for finding out what happened to the caravan that they were sent to find by a mysterious merchant whom they have not heard from since.

Remembering the portents of doom engraved in our own tablet, warning us not to break it. Even with the voice in my head telling me to fly for my life, I managed to hold myself in place and ask the group about the ill fate of their own tablet. They said that their tablet did indeed have an inscription carved into the front of it, but the ork in their party, I wasn't paying attention to his name, dropped and smashed it before they could find out what the inscription read. They too found a map inside their own tablet, and one quick glance at theirs told me that it was indeed identical to ours.

Upon realizing that this group was getting the same set up that we got, my fear of the tablet turned into confusion and suspicion of the entire situation. After talking it over with my own group, we decided to invite the other group on a little expedition to find out what this all added up to. So after talking it over with everyone, we decided to leave the next morning to get to the bottom of everything. We sent the other group, which consisted of an ork, a dwarf, a human, and elf, and a t'skrang, out ahead, because if the map led to a trap, they would be expected, and we, having not followed the map months ago, wouldn't be expected to show at all. As the end of the trip was approaching, we saw in the distance the entrance to a ravine, and we stupidly walked directly into a trap.

Looking back on it, we should have seen this coming from way back in town, but no. We blindly entered the ravine and we were instantly assailed by single arrow. The arrow was not intended to hit any of us, I don't think, but a voice followed that informed us that the next one would not miss. We were told to leave all of our valuables on the floor of the ravine if we wanted to live, which I was not about to do. Knowing that if this really was a trap, the ravine entrance would be blocked by now, I headed straight for the giant stone door directly across from the entrance, and with one sideways look at it, managed to undo the massive lock that held an even more massive chain across the door.

Granted, going through the door was not the most appealing choice, but it was certainly more appealing than being shot by the hail of arrows that was now falling down around us. Apparently, the voice had back up. I sped through the door just as soon as Thrak could get the chain off it, and turned around to see the other group of adventurers right behind us, but Gir and Rezak were missing. The group was barely through the door when a cloud of black blocked our tight view out of the door, and the smell of oil washed over us. Just as soon as Thrak realized the oil would burn us alive if we gave the bandits the chance, he slammed the door shut, and waited.

After a few moments, a new voice, a troll, shouted from the other side of the door, telling us to come out or he would kill our windling. One peek out the door showed us the troll holding Gir, and no sign at all of Rezak. A quick plan proved successful when Thrak charged out the door at the troll, knocked him on his uglier end, grabbed Gir, and sped back through the door as I tossed a torch on the fire, and slammed the door behind him.

With one mess out of the way, we realized that we were in a totally new mess. We were in what looked like another kaer. I said a small prayer to the Passions at that moment in hopes that kaers had back doors. After a few hallways and dead ends, we found a mural room that told the story of the city before it was a kaer, the scourge, the horrors, and a king that went from benevolent to malevolent to insane. I think we saw his name carved somewhere there, but I wasn't really paying attention.

We left that room and went through more hallways and found more dead ends, until we found the throne room. The only thing left was the throne itself, which had a carving of a crown where the kings head would go. There was an energy around the carving that was very strange indeed, especially for a completely abandoned kaer. Remembering a verse that I saw in the mural room, I put my hand on the carving and repeated the verse: "I was not born of noble blood. By my own hand, by my own word, I am king." I was not surprised at all to see a secret door open in the wall behind the throne. We immediately started up the passage, which clearly sloped uphill toward what we hoped was fresh air, but we were all getting an eerie feeling about the passage, and we soon found out why.

Our ascent to the outside was interrupted by a gruesome sight; the king from the mural room, but he had long lost the majesty of his ruling days, and it looked to me that he had also lost his mind, at least while he was still alive. I guess he wasn't pleased to see people in his kingdom without his knowledge or permission. He immediately attacked Thrak, who had been leading our groups to the surface. It was a bloody battle but a short one, as we pretty quickly dispatched the corpse. Even as a zombie, held quite a treasure. We found a breastplate, a rusty sword, and a crown, all encrusted with sapphires, and if I'm right we should make a small fortune from them, especially if you consider the historic value the items might have.

We finally made it to the surface, and I immediately went to scout for the bandits and the ravine. I found the ravine, but no bandits. So from there, Gir used her tracking abilities to find their camp, which turned out to be only about an hours walk from the ravine. We arrived there to find about half of the knaves sleeping, and the other half were missing altogether. But the voice, which belonged to an elf, and the troll who kidnapped Gir were both in the camp and, to my delight, distracted. At that moment, Gir had the best idea I had heard in months. I quickly returned to the tent that the two were in, crept in without even making a sound, and made off with the elf's bow. Needless to say, the two of them were on my heels before I was even out of the tent. Fortunately, my back up arrived just in time, and I had a chance to hide the bow in the tallest tree I could find.

Once the bow was safely tucked away, I rushed back into the fray. After a quickly beating the elf and the troll senseless, if not to death, the rest of the brigands tucked tail and ran. We came across quite a horde of silver and weapons in the camp, and I'm sure that bow will fetch a pretty penny too.

After realizing that the map was just a tool to lure innocent treasure hunters like myself into a death trap, my confusion about everything boiled into anger. As soon as we get back to Valyan's Legacy and finish business there, I intend to hunt that mysterious merchant down and give him a piece of my mind and maybe even a taste of Valor. Hold me back; I'm out for justice.

Kira