The Amear

Flight of the Outsider - Part 2
Flight of the Outsider Part 2

Holding his hand above his head to block the bright sun, Beomer awoke to a calm yet eerie feeling. The reminder of the horrible storm was evident as his eyes quickly scanned the damage of the Amear vessel. No mast, damaged bow, shredded rigging! Clearly, he and Usul were no match against mother natures fury… or the magic that conjured such a powerful storm. As Beomer pushed himself to an upright position he was relieved to see land on the eastern horizon. Scanning back to the west all that could be seen was the now calm sea merging with the western sky and a sullen and dejected Usual staring back at him. Both men recognized the need for a complete refitting of the storm torn vessel. Both Charon and Brightfang expressed an urgent desire to gain landfall as quickly as possible. They did not enjoy the tumultuous high seas adventure lead by the 2 novice sailors. Beomer smiled at Usul and let out a gruff yet clear cackle “At least were alive”! The two men then gathered what scraps of wood that still remained and rowed to shore.

Beomer scouted a hidden inlet amoung the swampy reeds where the boat could be anchored and hidden for repairs. Tired and frustrated, the Amear and Outsider began the exhaustive process of beaching and then carrying the vessel to the top of a small rocky ledge covered in winter pine. Certainly this would protect them from the sight of any forest dwellers or unwelcome weather. Fortune certainly seemed to be with them as upon cresting the small hill they discovered a small cave that could serve as shelter and workshop for their repairs. Alas, the gods show favor. Beomer prepared camp while Usul transformed into an eagle and scouted the area. All was well! First boat repairs and then to begin the search for their seperated party members.

Four days had passed and all the wood preparation had been completed. All that was needed was to complete the assembly. The tar substance created by Usul, although not perfect, would serve it’s purpose in sealing the boats many flaws. However, to complete the repairs we needed to move the boat higher land which would expose us potential threats. It could not be avoided.

On the morning of day five, the boat was moved to the repair location. After such time Usul took to the skies as something foul was in the air and we couldn’t afford to be surprised. We were vulnerable, needed the boat repairs complleted if we had any chance os making time to find our seperated party members and based on review of the map, we were in gnoll country.

Beomer began to work vigorously but certainly not quietly and repairs were coming along nicely. Then an uneasiness fell upon Beomer as if something was watching him. No, he didn’t like it at all. Charon was down by the water quenching her thirst. As Beomer turned to survey the area. he thought to himself, “I see you Mr. Satyr”. I short 4 foot man beast, horns protruding from his forehead, goat fur covered legs with hooves to for feet. A previous encounter with the little beast men had left Beomer a little prejudice. There would be no negotiation, no diplomacy. Beomer quickly drew his spear bounding quickly toward the enemy when the trees and groundcover came to life reaching at his every step. Beomer thought “Not this time you little bastard. I will cut your head off and serve it to the fish!” He yelled “Charon, Charon”. He then released his spear and bound to the side hoping to avoid the plants grasp. The spear struck wood with that quivering sound you only want to hear in tribal competition. Not in life and death struggles. As fate was gracious today, she was also cruel. I rolled out of the plants reach only to realize I was being flanked by a second beast. “Then two it is and two must die”! Quickly drawing the black obsidian blade, the strike was true. From horn to horn the blood spewed forth. Turning to my left to receive the first Satyr, I saw fear and then absolute hate in the eyes of that beast. Her lover was dead! I could only hear the low growl closing distance from behind me, at which time the she beast fled. I pursued with the fury of hell’s fire. Vengeance would be mine. The frustration built and my blood boiled as no matter how fast or cunning my skills were, the she beast seemed always to be just out of reach. I had already pursued to far and as the half size female beast entered the thick brambles of her home, I knew she had gained her life and freedom. I quickly returned to the landing where I needed to complete my repairs as we were no longer hidden by anonymity and shadows.

Upon my return to the boat Usul was standing there to receive me with grave and dire news. A pack of dog men were on our scent and headed in this direction. Waht else could go wrong. Surely fate had some good news, but not today! With little time to spare, I quickly finished the taring of the vessel and with Usul’s assistance returned her to the water. The barking could be heard in the distance. Twenty? Thirty? Maybe a hundred? The barking was coming from all direction and getting closer. No time to reassemble the mast. We must escape and now! Loading the newly constructed mast from stern to bow, we began to row. The howls were close and it was a matter of seconds. We may have waited to long! Doom was upon us. Over the ridge came a wave of dogmen, maybe ten now, but more were following! However, once again fate showed her love. We caught a current and began to move rapidly out to sea. And yes, as quickly as she gave us hope, fate cruelly laughed and spat on us. Oh she was merciless.

By the power of sorcery, the boat started to shake and bend and rip apart right beneath our very bottoms. I could not help by notice the she beast standing on the hilltop with a menacing grin as she conjured might to rend our vessel into splinters. Into the water we splashed only to be joined by the dog men in hot pursuit. How could this be? They all seemed to be working together – Satyr and Gnoll. And then, yes then, at that moment I saw the answer! Rising onto the hilltop, it stood about nine feet tall with bear like fur although it was not a bear. It walked upright and seemed to have intelligence. It’s eyes were fixated on us. What was this new foe? And then it hit me like a thunderclap. This was a Ghur! A young one, but a Ghur none the less. And it was hunting us. My mind was locked in, my body frozen, when I realized I needed to keep moving! We must escape! Prepare! This was why I was sent here!

Snap, everything was moving so fast, and the realization that several dog men had gained on us when a crackling light emanated from Usul sending two of the barkers carcasses floating on their way. Grabbing the mast which had been spared from the menacing spell of the she beast as it was unattached to the vessel, we all clung to its sides. Using the true magic I was able to speed our getaway, but not without great loss. How would we ever get back to the Amear through a hundred miles of Gnoll country? Surely, this was a bad dream I would awake from soon.

Flight of the Outsider - Part 1
Flight of the Outsider - Part 1

Storm clouds were beginning to form as the battle weary savages began their decent from high atop the island mountain. Blood and death lay in the wake of their latest foray into enemy territory. Their mistakes were many but alas, they had what they came for – the Rune Shard! Now they must focus their energies toward a hasty retreat sensing that they had angered an ever present and growing anger from the power that emanated from this cursed place.

With the speed of wild rabbits being chased by a much larger predator they swiftly and adeptly descended from the mountan stronghold. Little care was given to covering their trail as time was of the essence if they were to escape this unknown predator who certainly sought revenge for the death of his choldren. The thunderclaps were a constant reminder of the danger that was sure to come. What entity could conjure up such a storm? Certainly an intriguing question, but the answer would have to remain a mystery to Beomer at least for the moment. His only goal was to get off the island with his allies, alive and safe.

Soon the party emerged into a small clearing where the boats had been hidden except now they had two. An Elven boat, or at least that is the name given to Beomer by Demron the Law Giver to describe the creators of such exquisite craftsmanship. They were dead and had no need of the craft. The Elves will not soon forget their encounter with Toroc, the hulking Amear, as it was his clumsiness in stealth that alerted the enemy to our presence and his sheer power in battle that brought down a great many of the children in combat. What he lacked in subtlety he made up for in his battle lust. Toroc, when provoked, was a very formidable foe for even the most powerful and ancient beings. Combine his battle proven rage with the cunning of Eirwen, the bow skills of Shansu, the new found magic of Cormyr and the ever presence of Usul and we certainly were unbeatable! Or were we? Another thunderclap rang across the darkening sky. Back to the task at hand thought Beomer. The boats must be prepared to endure the brute force of the now unescapable storm.

Pushing out to sea would be hard enough for the novice sailor. But now, with the storm upon us. Demron, must surely be questioning his choice. Usul, Brightfang, Charon and I launched the Amear craft. Cormyr steadied the Elven craft with the remaining party members and quickly slipped from sight as the rains were upon us. Visibility was non existent and our failures were beginning to mount. Suddenly… Crack! The mast had dissapeared into the grey wall! Sea, rains and cloud had become one. We were not sure how or where it came from but like a grey hammer of the gods we were repeatedly beaten and thrown until all hope seemed lost. First fatigue and then darkness overcame my body and mind. Was this the end?


Toroc had never envisioned anything quite like this, not even in his nightmares. As the Seldar craft crested yet another giant wave, the giant barbarian vomited in a magnificent arc right over the side. The immediate effects of his seasickness forced him to pause in his unceasing task long enough to steal a quick glance over the bow. Huge bolts of lightning flashed across the blackened sky, revealing through the thick sheets of rain a churning sea, never ending waves the like he had never seen before, and monstrous geysers shooting upwards out of the sea. They were floating in a sea of chaos.
The powerful Nieran Eirwen was perched at the bow, her keen eyes searching for the mysterious flying creature that had been following them some ways off. Cormyr, the mariner (and more) manned the helm, his face set in grim determination as he experty guided the craft through the maelstrom.
Already water was rising quicky at the bottom of the craft. Toroc’s hands ached, his massive arms burned, yet he had no choice but to grip the cold golden helm tightly and begin furiuosly bailing water back into the sea. Again, and again. Despite the hellish circumstances, Toroc cracked a wry smile. If only the great Seldar lord could see how this barbarian was using the precious Helm of Nis!

What seemed an eternity later, the storm miraculously seemed to lessen enough for the companions enough to realize they had finally found the coast. Cormyr skillfully piloted the stolen craft into a sheltered cove just inside the swamplands bordering the coast, finding an excellent cove to shelter them from the still powerful storm, and finally giving them a place to safely collapse from sheer exhaustion. They were away from the Isle of Daughters and its surrounding seas at last.

Eirwen pulled a welcome surprise from one of her many pouches—Ice Falls Caviar! Toroc had never supped on anything so delicious as now. He felt better immediately, and wondered at the ability to see perfectly in the darkness after the meal. The giant warrior was snoring even before the effects wore off a mere minutes later.

The next day found the three companions navigating through the myriad of channels cutting through the swamps and fenlands bordering the coast. Corymr thought that this would be safer than returning to the still treacherous Sea of Jianukkan. The mariner’s instincts were uncanny, and the party whisked right through the swamps. Just as they were hopeful to get back to the Otter lands without further incident, a strange creature with horns and furry legs (a Faun) made the unwise decision to pester them with wood warping spells and animal control. Huge branches of long dead trees rose out of the water and held their craft in place just as the party heard the roar of a giant crocodile approaching from behind. The Faun laughed as he began warping the very wood of their craft.

Toroc and Corymr began hacking at the suddenly alive branches, but it was Eirwen who saved them that day. She called upon a crocodile of her own to slow down the beast following them, and began to seek out the Faun. Despite unnatural agility and quickness, the creature couldn’t hide from the angry Nieren for long. Eirwen called upon a bolt of ice, which formed in her hand, and threw the icy lance with full force at the Faun. The miserable creature perished instantly. Eirwen took its horns, and Toroc slew the crocodile Eirwen had tamed, offering its hide and teeth to the Nieren. The swamplands held no further dangers for them.

Cormyr piloted the craft out of the swamps back to the coastland, where they found the storm had finally abated. He found a familiar sheltered cove just before nightfall, and they pulled the craft into the shadow of the cliffs above them. It was only then that they realized the cliffs above were swarming with the much hated dog-men, assembling in great numbers for a possible attack on Otter Tribal Lands.

After being detected by dog-men sentries, the party decided to brave the Gulf of Seals at night, and sailed straight away for Otter lands. They landed in the morning, and spoke with some very surprised Otter fishermen about the impending threat. Toroc sent one of the braves off to warn the village. Cormyr led the party to the village, where he told their entire tale to the assembled Wepontak. With the help of his mother’s influence, coupled with his new-found confidence and experience, Cormyr himself was given the great honor of being named Weagra to deal with the invading foes. He named Black Feather and Toroc as his fellow Weagra to help lead the entire muster of the Otter Tribe.

The party met Usul, who had shapechanged and flown back to Otter lands. He informed them that their lost companions, Beomear and Shansu, were literally clinging to life in the marshlands across the bay. Eirwen and Usual set out to rescue their friends, while Cormyr and Toroc stayed behind to begin planning for the invasion.

Toroc hit the glowing lump of metal sitting squarely on the anvil with powerful, precise strokes. He was overseeing a large group of smiths, using all the iron they had to forge hundreds of spear heads. Toroc envisioned this particular one tearing the throat out of one of the dark creatures who controlled the dog-men. He could not think of a better use for a spear. He was trying to look somber and respectable, but Toroc just could not keep the huge lop-sided grin from his face. He was back doing something he loved—creating weapons for his people from the precious metals of the earth itself. Kromm would be pleased with him. In a short time, however, Toroc would be doing something he enjoyed even more—killing the enemies of the Amear. Only in this battle, he would be leading. This time, by Kromm, he was Weagra!

Return to the Rune

Beomear was as mad as Toroc had always feared. Raving mad. Back at the boats at the landing, the Outsider explained his plan of returning to the “libarary” inside the caverns. Toroc himself had never seen this strange place, but his companions had already met more of the powerful Seldar there twice. And been warned to leave, twice. Yet Beomear needed to return, to collect yet another of his mysterious runes of power. Runes he said were necessary to save our world, and his. If he couldn’t stop certain dark forces it would be The End of the World, darkness and destruction. Chaos. His usual rant.

Unbelievably, Cormyr, the sailor, agreed to go on this fool’s quest almost immediately. Toroc was surprised, and more than a little shamed by this strange Amear’s courage. Perhaps Cormyr was lured by the promises of knowledge only his kind could understand. Perhaps he needed to prove himself. Perhaps he was just as mad as Beomear.

Toroc owed Beomear a life debt, and accompanying his friend on this suicide mission would just about pay it off. Disregarding all sense, he would finish their bloody work here on the island. Besides, Toroc had a reputation to protect. “I will go, Outsider.” Toroc grunted and gripped his sword, Firen, and lead the way up the steep mountain path that had become so familiar.

Beomere followed close behind with his giant wolf companion, and Cormyr followed with bow drawn. They moved quietly and quickly up the mountain path, falling easily into the old routine of an Amear hunting party, ready for the dangers that must surely come.

They didn’t have to wait long. Charging directly down the path at them was a pack of 7 raging Yettia. Moving off to the side of the path, waiting amongst the thick forest growth off the path Toroc simply waited for the creatures to come. Beomere did the same, with his wolf at his side. Cormyr crouched further back with drawn bow. The enraged creatures smashed into the party. Cormyr’s managed to get several arrows off as they approached but his arrows had little effect.

The ensuing battle was short but fierce. The Yettia were creatures born to the mountains, and their immense strength, sharp claws, and endless anger made them deadly opponents. Toroc swung Firen in a fury of blows, felling several of the beasts. He could hear Beomere and his wolf locked in a fierce struggle with more of the beasts, and at his periphery he could see Cormyr dropping his bow in favor of a long spear, stabbing relentlessly at one of the Yettia. With the numbers more even the fight ended as quickly as it started, with 6 Yettia corpses strewn across the path.

One female survived, and Beomere questioned her, promising the creature her life in return for information. The creature spoke of a long standing pact that had been broken by the Seldar, which infuriated the Yettia on the island. They had been looking for a fight. The creatures had chosen poorly. The lone surviving Yettia was allowed to leave, and the party hastily removed the bodies from the path.

They climbed quickly to the gardens and the mouth of the cave. There was to be no complicated strategy here, simply a headlong rush at the Seldar in the libary. Toroc and Cormyr followed Beomear through the passageways to the library entrance, where the Outsider said the other rune of power was.

Moving silently, they spotted one well armed Seldar warrior alertly guarding the passageway into the libary. Beomear told them to wait there and be ready to move. Suddenly the Outsider disappeard! Toroc and Cormyr waited at the bottom of the sloping passage. They heard a blood curdling death rattle and sounds of alarm coming from within the library. Apparently Beomear’s signal.

Toroc ran straight at the alarmed Seldar guard, swords crossing in a series of well matched blows. Once inside the libary, Toroc saw a Seldar corpse lying with his throat slit beside a chair in the center of the large room. A Seldar lord in splendid golden armor and another warrior were charging at them from across the libary. Beomear and his wolf engaged the new threat while Toroc cut off the arm and then head of the first Seldar warrior. Beomear was struck in the head by a well aimed Seldar blow and crumpled to the ground. Toroc stepped over his friend to engage the Seldar lord, who swung a beautiful sword impossibly fast, hammering Toroc again and again. Toroc noticed another of the dark childish figures appearing next to the Seldar and laughing. He became entranced by this creature for a short time, and could not find a reason to swing __Firen_.

After their initial surprise attack, the tide of battle had quickly turned against them. Toroc was wounded from blow after blow from the powerful Seldar. The wolf was engaged with the childish creature, Beomere was unconscious, perhaps dead on the ground. Toroc could almost feel death approaching.

Then from behind him Toroc heard Cormyr mutter something indechipherable, and the Seldar lord recoiled in pain! Beomere, with an incredible show of will, propped himself up just long enough to drink from a vial. He stood up quickly and rejoined the fight once again. Cormyr blasted the Seldar lord with powerful magic two more times, finally bringing the mighty lord down. Beomere and Toroc were able to overwhelm the remaining Seldar warrior, and the childish creature disappeared.

Bleeding from a dozen wounds, Toroc looked around in disbelief. They had nearly died so that they could gain control of a room filled with….paper. Lots of paper. Toroc began laughing hysterically. They were all mad.

The Peacock Angel's Fury


he shard of the Rune of Pain had been won.

We returned to the ventilation room after finding no exit behind the locked door. Our options were limited- climb back up the shaft we’d entered by- possibly encountering the yeti that had formed- or try another shaft. Shansu scouted the widest and most easily accessible shaft, and after a short while, our party had managed to climb up to a landing- wolves included.

Beomere sensed another shard of the rune, moving towards him. Something was coming.

We followed the shaft up and into a cave, where Shansu found a yetiah raging against a harpy-like creature. He could hear more screeching from the darkness. He made quick work of the injured yetiah.

Beomere felt the rune grow closer. We decided to go back to the garden area and retreat into the caves- we didn’t want to be out in the open with the shard coming so quickly. We saw a blonde woman streak through the forest from our vantage point in the caves. She was headed towards our boat, Cormyr and Toroc.

On the shore of the Isle of Daughters
Toroc's solo adventure

Toroc crouched in the tall undergrowth, waiting for the beasts to get just a little closer. Four Yettia were encircling the camp, sniffing for their prey and fanning out to capture it. The barbarian smiled. He would not be the prey on this day. Cormyr of the Otter Tribe crouched somewhere behind, waiting.

When one of the Yettia got within reach Toroc called upon his inner Rage, stood up and swung his mighty sword Firen in a power attack against the bewildered creature. Death was instantaneous. Two of the remaining beasts charged towards Toroc, only to be cut down within a few heartbeats.

The last Yettia suddenly sprouted feathers from its chest as Cormyr’s arrow found its mark. Toroc sprang forward and cut into the beast’s stomach, slicing it wide open and spilling its foul guts. The beast was also enraged, however, and picked up the barbarian and threw him a great distance through the air. Toroc crashed painfully to the ground but sprang back to his feet quickly, somehow still with Firen in his grasp. Toroc squared his shoulders, and grasped Firen firmly with both hands. The enraged Yettia was already closing in for another attack. Toroc waited for the perfect moment and swung Firen, finishing the beast in one final stroke. With typical Amear efficiency Toroc dressed the beasts, taking care to preserve both hide and horn. Looking up, he was surprised to see a child sized woodland creature perched in a tree, staring intently at Cormyr. The creature had long dark hair, and seemed to be wearing vines and leaves. Toroc used an Amear hunting signal to alert Cormyr of a watcher, and as soon as he became aware of the creature it darted off into the forest. Toroc and Cormyr half-heartedly debated the pros and cons of taking the boat back out onto the Sea of Jianukkan, as the landing spot did not seem a safe place for the vessel or themselves. Just as they were gazing out onto the open water, they spied a strange craft approaching the beach. Cormyr recognized the strange vessel as Seldar made. It sailed on an impossible course with incredible speed, directly towards the landing point. Toroc and Cormyr quickly took the camp gear (including the woodworking kit) and sped away from the landing using the forest for cover. They quickly climbed the island and found a good vantage point overlooking the beach that still offered some cover. To their dismay the Seldar craft had already beached at the landing. Three of the Seldar appeared to be warrior-like, and were moving with unnatural grace up the trail towards the gardens and the cave entrance. Luckily they did not find the party’s hidden Amear boat. The Seldar sorceress actually flew directly up the side of the island to the gardens, followed by a small army of pixies. The pair of adventurers decided it best to hold off on an attack. The arrival of the Seldar brought unnatural weather as well, and the skies opened up as a great rainstorm enveloped the island. Toroc and Cormyr quickly found some good cover under an overhang in the cliff face to stash the camp goods and quickly discuss their next course of action. It would be impossible to get the boat off the island while the Seldar brought such weather, so they decided that they must attempt to discover if the landing was guarded and to attack the Seldar from behind using the storm as cover. They approached the landing in the rainstorm and discovered the same small childlike creature eating near the shore. Cormyr was somehow sure that this was the creature that controlled the weather. Toroc and Cormyr launched javelins simultaneously at the creature, but it was incredibly fast and managed to twist and turn in the air to avoid being struck by both. Toroc charged in with Firen, knocking the agile creature with the flat of the sword into a nearby tree, twisting and breaking its spine. The storm began to die down immediately after the creature’s death. The Seldar sorceress flew down from the gardens towards the landing, her pixie army in tow. Toroc managed to throw his javelin and strike the sorceress’ chest from over 80 yards away, sending her sinking to the ground. Meanwhile, the pixies descended. Five of the small creatures flew about Toroc, frustrating him with tiny jabs which carried with them a weak sleeping poison. Toroc managed to kill three of the creatures, but one in particular kept hitting him again and again, frustrating the giant warrior who was unable to kill this one small opponent. A small black cloud suddenly enveloped Cormyr and the pixies that were attacking him. All five pixies were killed instantaneously. Cormyr looked surprised by what happened, then collapsed into unconsciousness. The sorceress slowly approached Toroc; she now seemed to be surrounded by a veil of writhing lightning, which struck out at Toroc in a painful blast. For a moment Toroc and the Seldar locked eyes, and Toroc was able to resist some strange spell that the sorceress was attempting to cast on him. The enraged barbarian charged the Seldar, taking another painful jolt but striking her in chest and disrupting her concentration. He swung Firen again, completely destroying her left leg, again disrupting her. The next blow finished her. The remaining pixies retreated, the pixie hero yelling something profane at Toroc. The barbarian gave the creature a respectful head nod, from one warrior to another, and the pixies flew off into the forest. Cormyr finally came to, and immediately wanted to inspect the Seldar craft, which he liberated of its exotic rope lines. Toroc was more interested in looting the body of the Seldar. He found three wooden figurines, which Cormyr said held some kind of latent magic. He also found a silver ring, a glowing pink stone used as an earring, and a Seldar alchemy pouch. The landing was clear, the skies and waters had calmed, and their escape from the island open once more.
The Caves of Kareshar

s the mist woman died, we thought we heard her say “Father forgive me”, though no one saw her lips move.

A deep howl sounded all around us. A few minutes later, Shansu entered the room, concerned. Toroc asked why he left Cormyr alone and went to go help the Otter warrior.

Beomere wanted to retrieve his spear that he’d dropped into the water fighting the mist woman, so he tied a rope around his waist and dove in. A half second later he surfaced and Eirwen cast Warding of the Winterborn to help him survive in the ice cold water. Shansu went out to scout the garden and mountainside and Charon and Brightfang went up to the antechamber to keep guard. Eirwen and Usul anchored the rope.

As Beomere searched underwater, Eirwen studied the blue flame that seemed to be the center of the convergence. She felt that somehow the flame drew power from the convergence- a strange thing indeed.

Isle of Daughters

Our arrival at the Otter Tribe was noteworthy- Usul flew in as a bird and Erik wore the pelt of the sabretooth cat. Beomere had told the village that we intended to go to the island to the north on the lake- a place taboo to the Otter. They didn’t move to stop us, but only one was willing to guide our group- the elder Nieran’s son, Cormyr.

As a warrior of the tribe, Cormyr had a good place for himself and was known as an excellent fisherman. His gray eyes betrayed a difference, but Eirwen was not able to identify it. He was known to be able to predict the weather.

After a week of preparations, during which Toroc made steel for the tribe and Eirwen crafted elixirs and traded herbs, we set off. The boat was large enough to fit both wolves and five of us (Erik stayed behind?). Cormyr warned us about the creatures in the lake- sea serpents that could frenzy, who wouldn’t attack the boat but would make a meal of any poor person who fell into the water.

A New Vision
Eirwen shares a vision with the group

I have shared nearly every vision I’ve seen with the others. Save one.

The Elf Door

I have dreamed of an elf door, waves of a great sea, and the eyes of a cold humanoid figure, a man. I cannot see his face. In every dream I have about this figure, it seems as if he knows I am seeing him, and he turns from me. This vision is the most clear, and the most vivid, yet I cannot make out the figure. This door I see is near water, or covered by water, or leads to water.

I have seen this vision many times, but have held back from sharing it- though I am not sure why. It is different than the other things I’ve seen.

Last night when I drank the Midwinter Draught, I saw it again. I saw the door located under the waves on the western side of the island we are journeying to. I felt the man turning from my gaze and felt myself wary, as if I could be seen, as well- though by what or whom I do not know.

Our fate is tied to this isle, of that I am certain- but going there will expose us to great and terrible danger. There are too many things tied to this place, I cannot see an outcome of our quest. I feel a poor choice on our part will lead to our doom.

Toroc's choice

t saddens me that Eirwen no longer treats with me as a friend. She looks away when I speak. She no longer smiles when I approach. Eirwen may help me out of necessity to further our party’s mysterious aims but never out of kindness.

Did I betray her?
For it was because of Eirwen and Beomer’s intial kindness that helped me escape my bonds forever. I will never forget it.

Her brother Celyn died in battle, at age 23. I myself am 23, yet I feel much older.

My entire family and most of my village died fighting the Duergar, or by serving them.

Celyn died fighting as a warrior—with weapon in hand, fighting his tribe’s enemies. I can think of no more glorious way for an Amear to leave this world. If only many of my friends had been given that chance.

During the battle I led braves and warriors alike to a great victory over both orcs and dogmen. I myself killed the orc leader and many of his bravest warriors. My Amear warriors gained great honor that day.

If Celyn was the brave warrior that Eirwen believes he was than surely his killer would have been an equally accomplished, skillful orc? We killed all such that day.

The only orcs to survive our bloody rage were a scarce handful of male weaklings who were not in the front lines, as well as their women and children.

Would killing these innocent and weak have brought Celyn back?
Would killing every Duergar child bring my family back?

Upon my mother’s deathbed I vowed to no longer tolerate the suffering of the innocent and weak. Instead, I will bring suffering upon those who wish to do so.

If Eirwen cannot forvive me, then I will grieve to have lost a friend.
If she wishes to fight me, then I will grieve to have lost a Nieran.



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