Welcome to the latest chapter of our Dungeons & Dragons (D&D) campaign, set in the legendary world of the Forgotten Realms.
This blog is a living novel, a raw, unfiltered chronicle of our adventures, told through the eyes of those who lived them. Each story is based on a true D&D session as played, with no add-ons or changes made by the authors. Our session reports offer unique, in-character perspectives on the perils, triumphs, and unforgettable moments that define our journey.
Our story follows an unlikely trio of heroes:
Finn, the streetwise Halfling Rogue with a knack for finding trouble (and exits).
Jonathan, a devoted Halfling Priest standing as the moral compass of the group.
Inez, a striving Gnome Wizard whose arcane mastery is often or not the saving grace.
Today’s chronicle is told from the perspective of Inez. Step into her mind as we recount the magic, mystery, and unexpected turns of our latest quest.
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| Inez interrogated by Gordo. Image generated by AI. |
Session #19 as told by Inez
Dear diary,
Not sure if I’m writing this, just thinking it or telling this to you, the Idol or my Spellbook. We seem to be caught in a spell of some sort, in between planes and reality. Don't understand this myself, but let me try to explain.
This morning, though my sense of time was lost after living underground for days, we woke up after a long rest. Even the Idol had allowed me to sleep deeply, not visiting me with nightmares or suggestive lessons. All that despite the gruesome actions that had taken place nearby, and the dead body of a goblin lying in the far corner of the room!
When I opened my eyes, the evil runes on the wall still shimmered, triggered by the aforementioned goblin and my naive companion Jonathan. Speaking of which, he and brother halfling Finn looked like a gnome inventor after yet another explosion when they opened their rations. Utterly harrowed when they found their food wasted, no breakfast for hungry halflings! Spoiled by the dark magic saturating this room. As I tried to explain this to them, I almost took the blame for it. Halflings and their food!
As there was no chance for a morning meal, Finn and Jonathan started debating what to do next. If we wanted to follow the trail of the humans, we would need to pass the monster in the pool. Returning and trying to find our way back was not an option either. Somehow the ‘adventure virus’ had caught Jonathan again, sermonizing and inducing us to finish our task. With general vote and one abstention (Murk did not seem to be interested in the big discussion by the small folks.), we decided therefore on continuing our mission.
Entering the catacomb with the pool, I tried to persuade my companions to be quiet, in the hope to pass undetected. The men had other plans however, and great need to discuss those loud and long. To add to this, the cubs joined in, screeching like leaking steam valves. All in all Murk, and of course little Gregot, was possibly the quietest of us. As I was scolding, not just in myself, about halflings on the whole, men in general and halfling men in particular!
During their loud and blatant discussion, the two halflings had devised a plan: They convinced Murk to carry them on his shoulders, protecting them from water and tentacles. The plan did not protect them from stupidity and crudeness. With an elegant swing Murk placed Jonathan on one shoulder and launched Finn over the other! The poor rogue landed like a drunk Aarakocra, hard and loud. Looking at his eyes, I did not dare to offer a hand to help him up. Instead I kept my distance and quiet, feigning to shepherd the cubs.
Murk and Jonathan now took the lead, followed by a limping Finn. Two steps later there followed me, Gregor and the three gamboling cubs. “There’s a creature here, that's not from this plane. It’s stuck here, this pool is a prison.” Murk rumbled, his voice like a dwarf’s horn. “What he said.”; Jonathan chimed in; “And it's very sad too!”. Somehow these two had picked up cues that I still was not capable of sensing. I know, I know, dear diary, envy is not my best side!
Not even halfway down the sidewalk, we saw a wave in the water heading towards us! Quickening my pace, I caught up with Finn and hid behind him. Seconds later a limb rose out of the water. Sweeping over our heads, lashing out at Murk! The Goliath did not blink or stagger, but his passenger was tipped off his shoulder and dragged along towards the water!
Seeing Jonathan’s precarious situation, I took my spellbook and opened it. Its pages kept stuck together, I had to force them apart to find and read the conjuration I had read before. Concentrating, weaving energies then directing them towards the creature below the surface. My idea was to speak to the animal, let it know that we were no enemies. This failed miserably! The creature was mindless or immune to magic or both! The spell bounced back, making me lose control of its direction, landing at the Owl Bear cubs instead! From that moment on they spoke, their barks and cries turned into voices in my head: “Mummy, mummy! Where's food! Look at me! Hungry, hungry!” Pesky animals!
Meanwhile Finn was trying to free Jonathan, attacking the tentacle. Using his magically enhanced knife, he managed to hit the creature several times. The main monster still kept hold of Jonathan, pulling him further into the water! Then Murk stepped in, cleaving the arm in two, this time launching Jonathan tumbling. Murk immediately grabbed the cut off part with Jonathan still rolled up inside. Like that, the priest was carried like a Sourfish Roll. A very loud Sourfish in this case. (Somehow this made me think of home. When I was little, our cook used to roll small silvery fish around pickles and store them in vinegar.She called this dish “Sailor’s parchment” and I would unroll it, trying to find the writings of a seafarer or pirate.This caused my father to laugh: ‘She’s my girl, going for the small print!’)
The sight of Jonathan hoisted by Murk almost bubbled up a laugh, part relief and part hysteria, in my throat. “Must keep my senses together!”; I muttered to myself. And indeed, there was no time for any of this. Opportunistic like always, Finn had followed immediately, setting course for the exit. Leaving us behind! Cursing I gestured towards Gregot and the cubs to follow, the latter ignoring my commands as usual. “There goes your food, attack him!”; popped up in my mind and the cubs picked it up immediately, rushing after Murk with bloodlust in their eyes! (Yes diary, I know that’s a good thing that normally I filter thoughts before speaking. Could improve here too, thank you for that advice.) Poor Gregot and I pursued, anxiously looking at the water. No feeler or monster showed itself and panting we passed the door into the next room as fast as we could!
The first thing I noticed was the smell of fresh air. Looking up there was twilight, shimmering above us were stars, one way or the other we had made it to the surface again! The second thing I noticed were the cubs gnawing at Murk’s ankles. “AI, it’s hard, this food hurts my teeth! Mummy!”; the voices of the cubs barked into my consciousness. “Alright, alright, eat the tentacle, not the man!”; I answered. Luckily for the cubs (and me), the Goliath was stoic as always, first setting Jonathan free from the tentacle, then feeding parts of it to the little critters.
The third thing I noticed were two strange creatures, busy poking spears as if looking for something between the rocks. When entering, I had mistaken the two for larger rocks, but their movements gave them away. Unfortunately they had noticed us too, as we had crashed into this chamber running for our lives. They stopped their work, if that was what they were doing, and walked towards us slowly. As they approached, and I could examine them more clearly, it became clear that their heads were shaped like cuttlefish, with smaller and longer tentacles growing out of a shell-like skull. The spears I thought they were wielding were the longest of these tentacles. Remembering some of the stories dwarfs would tell to impress me, these were without doubt Darkmantles.(And I felt a little regret for the old dwarf that I had laughed at, not believing his stories!)
A welcome warm feeling embraced me, Jonathan had shared his magic powers with Finn and me, blessing us and himself! Replaced by a very unwelcome feeling, darkness engulfed me, even my gnome eyes couldn’t spot a thing! Superseded by an even worse feeling as a slippery tentacle enveloped me! This unwanted embrace of ice and iron made me furious! For a heartbeat, I remembered the attentions of a drunk client at home! Pulling myself loose I negated the pain of sharp small teeth cutting my skin. My spellbook made its way into my hand by itself, finding me the words of the spell. All of my anger was transformed into arcane energy, steered in the form of a fireball in the direction of the probing creature. The projectile shot away, illuminating the darkness around for just a moment, like lightning striking a tree!
For a moment it was all quiet, quiet and dark, then I heard the swirling whistle of Murk’s maul, too nearby for comfort and I instinctively ducked. This was followed by a mixed eruption of cracking and splashing sounds. After which the darkness left and I was looking at my large companion cleaning his weapon by scrubbing it over the floor, spreading a trail of purple gore. Between us lay the flattened and crushed scraps of a Darkmantle, spread on the floor like a gown trampled during the sale. The sight of a fireball’s patchy burn marks on its hide made me smirk, and I performed a subtle curtsey towards Murk. Who plainly did not notice nor acknowledged. His maul, still dripping with gore, didn’t even pause in its scrubbing. Pesky Goliaths!
Scanning for my other companions, I spotted Finn for just a moment. Near him the feet of a strange little creature stuck out of a pile of stones. Even closer to him was the second Darkmantle! The moment the Darkmantle attacked, a cloud of darkness surrounded them, blocking my sight! Not only my sight was blocked, my mind too, the voices of three Owl Bear cubs shrieking and howling behind my eyes: “Mommy, mummy, can we eat this? Tastes nice! Look at me! “ The critters were gorging, picking and licking up the remains of the flattened and burned Darkmantle. Then hopped over and jumped against me. Purple gore splattered their pelts, and my robes. Wiping it away only made the stains larger! Pesky animals!
Noises coming from within the dark veil made clear that a duel was fought out. My rogue companion was on his own, the three of us (and of course little Gregot) standing useless outside the fog. Not sure what to do, I was relieved when the curtain fell, literally and figuratively, and Finn emerged. Looking injured, but still standing, and the second attacker dead at his feet. He sat a few steps then looked like collapsing, but caught before this could happen by Jonathan. The priest used one arm to support Finn, the other to conjure a healing force, mending the rogue by divine powers. The two halflings slapped each other on the backs and shoulders: “Now, finally, let’s find something to eat!”
“I would like to thank you all!”; as if a dwarven forge had bellowed with a squeak, an unfamiliar voice filled the room. We all turned around and looked up, where a copper colored wyrmling was floating. Not that I had ever seen one before, except maybe that strange day in the cellar of the Drunken Badger. Still it looked as I had imagined how a proper wyrmling should look and its voice combined a deep resonance with a youthful squeak. And it looked like it needed to be hugged by me! You’re right, dear diary, once more, get yourself together!
“Days ago I was flying above mountains near my mothers hide. Out of nowhere a full grown green dragon emerged, attacking me. Slipping away I made my escape by finding a small entrance into this cave and hiding here. But here I was caught in a shower of stones during one of the earthquakes and got caught under a layer of debris.” The hatchling was now glancing at us, sizing us up. “Never been this close to other creatures than animals. You seem friendly, unlike these other creatures that did not help, but probed and poked me.” As it spoke, the frills on the back of its lower jaws fluttered, as if it was wearing a fashionable cravat. “My name is Inez Elera Systemix, noble dragon.”; I stepped in with a salutation that would have made High keeper Ironmantle proud. “And these are my companions and friends.”
After introducing the troupe in hopefully an acceptable way to this noble creature, ignoring the eye rolls, head shakes and sighs of my companions, I asked for its name. “My name is Dub-Shaba, at least, that is how you may call me in the common language, dear lady and companions. My mother was aware of the presence of cities and settlements nearby our lair, so she taught me to speak common clearly and softly. And she told me of their inhabitants as we flew by, of elven, men, goliaths and giants. And of the small folk, dwarven, halflings and gnomes. But she did not tell me that small folk could look as fair as an elven lady.” “Thank you, Dub-Shaba, ..” I managed, heat creeping into my cheeks.. All I could think of was to perform a proper small bow, as I did not know if this dragon boy was serious, flirting or pranking me. Pesky dragons!
Once more I got saved by Finn and Jonathan who started to interrogate the hatchling about its whereabouts and what it had seen during its stay in this chamber. It turned out that it had seen one human, female, moving through, before the earthquake had opened up the roof. It excused itself for not having more information, not having dealt with non dragons before. And despite being very grateful, it longed to return home. Just as it was about to leave, I just had to ask: “Dub-Shaba, before you leave, allow me to make this request. As I live in the small city of Nook, would you be willing to join me at the yearly ball as the most beautiful mantle I could wish for?” A smile formed for a second on its pensive face. “Though I don’t know how far Nook is from here, I would be delighted.” “I will make sure an invitation reaches you in time!”; I answered, producing yet another curtsey. “Farewell my friends!” The wyrmling flapped its manta shaped wings, producing a firm breeze that raised the dust around us, before leaving us with surprising speed.
With the dragon gone and no opponents left, we at last had time and opportunity to search the room. Jonathan was using a small flask to collect some of the purple fluids dripping out of the Darkmantles. Examining and following the different trails, we found a spot covered by rocks and debris. Where it would have taken us small folks hours to clear this, Murk made short work of it. Underneath we found the body of a female human, dressed in the uniform of the city guard, though Magki city crest had been torn off. “This must be one of the two we were looking for.”; Jonathan said as he was searching her; “Nothing in the pockets, all valuables are gone. Someone wanted her dead for sure, she’s been stabbed and strangled." "Poor sergeant Tesh. We should bury her”; I responded, swallowing a sob. Jonathan volunteered to assist, and Murk did the work, digging like a mechanical arm, but much more precise and reliable. (Slightly less fun though, dear diary!)
Meanwhile Finn was scouting ahead, climbing the slope of ground and boulders leading upwards to the rip in the wall and roof of the cave. Upon reaching it, he took a cautious look outside, and found a city guard standing a few paces away. “Hey you, wake up! We’re here! We found your comrades!” Both the guard and we were fortunate that the poor guy did not die of a heart attack! After short deliberations the soldier went off to the city, and we started hauling our stuff to the surface. A short time later we were sitting next to our trophies, looking at one of the gates of Magki, just a few hundred metres away.
The guard returned with a group of colleagues, together they took us into the city, walking us through streets we had not visited before. As it was still very early in the morning (we had found out), very few locals noticed our parade through the center. All friendly and correct, but leaving us no other options. “You said you were taking us to your office, but we just passed the gate and the keep?”; I asked, a bit worried. “We’re taking you to the Constables’ Court, to the city guards barracks. The officer on duty himself, Captain Trish, wants to handle this himself!” And so we walked through the doors of the barrack, a small fortress standing out between the facades of much more friendly merchants' houses.
Prepared for the worst, I sat down on a too high a chair, in a small office, facing an empty desk. Next to me Finn and Jonathan faced the same problem. Gregot had rooted itself at Jonathan's shoulder, Murk remained standing, and none of the guards dared to make a point of this. Several guards took position against the walls behind us. All friendly and correct, but leaving us no other options. The walls and floor of the place once were painted white, but had reverted through the years into a puzzle of discolored, washed and peeled off bits and chunks like the dusty gray of kobolds living in the dark. This room was not intended to comfort its visitors.
The clicking of halberds on the floor announced the entry of their officer, a leathery human male, who sat down behind the table facing us. His tight and crisp uniform, bearing the gauntlet of Helm (which made me think of our home altar for a second), out of tone with his men and the environment. After taking his time to look each of us up and down, he eventually addressed us: “Welcome, adventurers! It’s not often that we see contractors return to claim their reward!” He gestured to one of the soldiers, who handed him a document storage tube. Recognizing it immediately, I hoped my ‘corrections’ on the document inside would not be seen as forgery. “Well, this all seems in order. And you brought in the body of sergeant Tesh. What else do you claim?”
On that note, Finn and Jonathan started picking stuff from their backpacks, placing all kinds of gory remains on the table like it was jewelry. The captain kept a straight face: ‘Dark mantles, yeah know them, nasty buggers. Two you say, and the bodies were there to prove it, good. Rat tails, how many? But I see less, ah, some were eaten by those animals that are chasing the chicken in our courtyard? Spider legs, quite large. And this a fang of something? Well, well, well. All in all, that makes a hefty sum. If you agree with this list, it’s all worth nine hundred ninety eight gold coins.” There was the sound of three small folk dropping their jaws at the same time. “That’s reasonable and in line with our contract.”; somehow I managed to regain my senses. “Well then, this amount I’m not mandated to approve. We just need this sealed by a solicitor. I will call for one!” Just in time Finn managed to overwhelm Jonathan and prevent him saying anything about solicitors and a sort of borrowed seal.
We sat there for an uncomfortable length of time, chatting about nothing with the Captain and some of his men. A knock on the door signalled the arrival of the clerk. A black clad stiff and pale male human entered. When he turned his face towards us, I sighed in relief, as it was a different person than the one we met in Ki. His gaze kept resting on us, only when I greeted him (once more thanking my teacher in etiquette) properly, he turned to the captain. The two of them had a short conversation, the contract was scrutinized lightly, subsequently a sigil was revealed showing the same mark as the one I was carrying, wax was heated, the contract was sealed! “Have a safe journey! That Oghma may guide you. ” And with that the clerk left.
“Well, well, all is settled then, still this amount of money won’t be found here.You’ll have to get it from a bank. Hand them the contract and that should work out alright. There’s one bank not too far away, run and owned by gnomes, the Clockwork Treasury. I’ll have the sergeant escort you there. Sergeant, take them there!” The same sergeant that had sent us off into the dungeons appeared, visibly crying. “Sergeant, it’s a terrible loss to us all, sergeant Tesh was a good soldier. We’re all gonna miss Caca. Take these people to the gnomish bank, then take the rest of the day off. Understood?” “Yes sir, thank you sir!” The sergeant droned like some cogs and sprockets sat stuck. “Follow me please, lady and gentlemen.”
Once again we were paraded through the streets of Magki.The sergeant was quiet, like us, even the cubs hopped along muted. Looking around I noted that the houses in this part of the city were all the same size, fitting tall folk. Mansions that were presumably small folk were living, had the same size and number of floors (based on the size and placement of windows), only ‘half doors’ were placed in the entrances. Looking at the sergeant, I decided not to inquire into the matter. Our walk did not take long either, after some streets and corners we reached our destination. The building that housed the bank was built in tall folk size too, but the bright pink color of its stones and the huge astronomical clock that filled the top of the structure. Besides the time (hard to find amongst all other displays) it featured phases of the Moon, position of the Sun, gnomish seasons and festivals and mechanical animals and scenes, with in the middle a calliope that would have been the centerpiece in any traveling funfair.
“We’re a bit too early.”; the sergeant pointed out; “The bank is not open yet. In a few moments you’ll hear.” “We’ll hear it open?”; Finn asked. “Oh yes, the minute the vault is opened at the start of a banking day, the organ will play a sad tune. Bankers don’t like spending money.” We waited for a little while, admiring the building and its machinery. As a gnome I marveled at the clock, especially a scene where mechanical dolls depicted cashiers and bookkeepers editing ledgers. My companions were also impressed, yet critical too:“Is that steam leaking from that valve? Is that puddle of greenish liquid dripping from that light bulb?” However the instant the calliope bursted out the ‘Death of a Banker’ tune, all were astonished and speechless. And a little deaf.
With hands over our ears we made clear to the sergeant that we were grateful and his assignment had been fulfilled. Then we made it to the entrance door, finding a polite dwarf, fully armoured, waving us away. Above us, a mechanical owl had dived down, still attached to the clock, and was examining us through a glass eye. Only after I showed the owl the contract and its seal, the creature shot upwards, and the dwarf opened the door. Locking it behind us, opening the next door and leading us through a hallway. Posh gnomes sitting behind counters stared at us discretely. Thinking about how I would look to them, I felt ashamed for all the times I had disapproved of the looks of my parents' customers. My appearance was worse than that of a kobold wanderer, dear diary!
Gesturing and pushing, the dwarf made clear that we had to continue walking until we were again blocked by a door. A huge fancy door, the size of two counters. The dwarf knocked one time on it, soft and politely. Then he stepped to the side, making room for us to enter as the door swung open. Revealing an enormous reception area, lavishly decorated. Looking around in awe, we slowly stepped in. Of course, the instant the last cub crossed the door, it closed itself with a loud thud.
“Welcome, welcome, dear guests! Welcome to the Magki Clockwork Treasury. The bank for adventurers of any species, ancestry or rank. May I introduce myself, the name is Reginald Cogsworth.”; an older gnome introduced himself with a proper bow; “This is my assistant and head of bookkeeping Theodore Goldspinner. And with whom do we have this honour?” Once again a courtesy was performed by myself quite well, as I may say so, before responding: “My name is Inez Elera Systemix, and these are my companions. We were contracted to fulfill a delicate job for the city guard, which we did discretely and to full satisfaction. As is described in this contract.” I handed over the tube to the older gnome, who handed it to the younger one. “Theodore, be so kind and read what this says. In the meantime, allow me to offer you and your, hmm, body guards, some drinks and refreshments. And perhaps some water and meat for these ones?; pointing at the cubs, the old banker did not show any signs that he was worried that his beautiful salon would be the victim of the little owl bears. Two claps of his hands, and from somewhere a mechanical cart rolled in, delivering water and slices of meat to the animals.
“Please, do have a seat!” One more time he clapped and the chairs started reorganising themselves, smaller ones rolling in, replacing tall folks sized ones. A huge one, driven on tracks instead of wheels, followed, positioning itself behind Murk. The nice armchair that found its way to me was irresistible, I dropped myself in and enjoyed the massage of my back! “Well, little lady, you do seem a bit young to lead such an expedition! Still, talent beats age, and who would follow a great looking leader?” Before I could react he, rattled on: “And the gentlemen, sitting comfortably? What can I offer to drink? And this little shrubbery, what do you like?”
Another cart rolled in, bringing all kinds of drinks and snacks. Before we realized or even acknowledged it, we were drinking wines and beers, Gregot some water, sandwiches, pastries and cheese were on the table and in our mouth. “Well, well, well.”; Reginald continued following Theodore’s return and whisperings in his ear; “It all seems in order. The city wants to pay you Nine thousand nine hundred ninety and eight gold pieces. Theodore here checked it, there’s enough gold in our safe, so no problem there. However, I would not recommend walking the streets of Magki with that amount of gold. Allow me to make a suggestion: We do have a counsellor on investments, not only gnomish, all kinds of things. Good yield and profit and entirely safe. That way your gold is safe and will grow. What do you say?”
We were looking each other in the eyes, flabbergasted, it took a while before I dared to answer: “ Nine thousand nine hundred ninety and eight gold pieces, you say?” “That’s correct, little lady!” Well, could you divide this in four equal parts. And could you send two hundred gold coins to the solicitors office that signed our contract? They will receive a bill from a clothing shop in Ki that needs to be paid on my behalf.” Looking to my side, I saw Finn rolling his eyes at me. “And we would need some pocket money for our stay in the city. Like a hundred gold coins each, could you arrange for that?” That changed the frown on the face of my rogue companion into a smile. Not only on Finn’s face, the others were showing grimaces of joy and anticipation “Very well, of course, of course, little lady. Theodore come with me, we have work to do.” With that the two bankers opened a hidden door in a wall and stepped out of the room.
To be replaced by a third gnome, showing up like a glimmer of Garl. “A thousand excuses for my late arrival. The name is Gordo Battlegold, just Gordo for highly esteemed guests, just Gordo for our highly appreciated clientele and just Gordo for friends.” This bombastic gnome had a shadowy, almost misty apparition. On the other hand he sure was handsome, slightly taller than most gnomes, and dressed in exceptionally fine, be it a little on the flashy side, outfit. His age was hard to guess, but he sure was a gnome to behold, dear diary!
As a master illusionist he presented a decanter in his left hand, filled with a red liquid, and a goblet in his other. After filling the goblet, he presented it to me: “Here you go, fine lady, this will taste so much better.” Somehow the glass of wine I was holding was on the table and I had accepted Gordo’s goblet. Bringing it towards my nose, I enjoyed the bouquet of the liquor. “You’ve got the nose for it, lovely lady. And now your cheeks blend in with the wine.” This Gordo was quite the jester, if this had been a ball in Nook I probably would have slapped him. But in some way I could not truly get angry with him. Pesky gnomes!
In similar fashion Gordo led all of us into temptation, accepting his goblets appearing out of thin air, drinking his wine, becoming languid and slow, feeling groggy and tipsy, still in a pleasant and pleasurable way. Around us the room appeared to blur or fade out. Our tongues felt quiet, tranquilized, no steam left in our brains to start a new conversation. “Are you sitting comfortably?”; Gordo skipped, or even floated, around us, topping up our goblets the second you emptied it. “Good, good, then we’ll need to find answers to questions that no answers were found for yet. But no stress, no need for answers right away!”
He stopped right in front of me, moving his index finger towards me, stopping just in front of the tip of my nose: “Inez, what are you running away from?” Blurry images of my parents, our house and office, the hag presenting me the Idol, raced through my mind even faster than the tears made their way across my face. Our scrutinizer had already lost interest in me and had moved over to Finn: “ Finn, what could be found in the forbidden wizards booklet you sold?” The rogue casted a furtive glance in my direction, but kept his mouth shut. What did he know about my spellbook that he had not shared with me, dear diary?
Subsequently Gordo arrived at Jonathan’s chair, a huge wingchair he shared with Gregot: “Jonathan, the magical pig, the goose, what do they mean to you?” The gnome placed his finger on the lips of the priest in time to prevent him from answering. Advancing towards Murk, the interrogator grew taller or levitated upwards, mitigating any height advantage the Goliath had on him: “Murk, do you slay mummies, or are you one? Made of stone, or out of iron, mummy dear?” If Murk felt addressed or annoyed or anything by this challenge was not clear, as always his face remained an indecipherable mask.
“And, how are all the moonstones doing?” That truly jammed my cogs. Who was this gnomish inquisitor raking up the episode with our finds and my lifeline? “And what do Golems' metal feet and tales of old battlefields mean to you all? While Gordo shot his questions at us, the room around us behaved oddly: Fading in and out of focus like I was looking through a double-telescope. The lights started flickering like we were in an inventors showroom, colors absent or vague as if watching through translucent alchemical glass, like a shadow-play performance at the Nook market.
Blinking my eyes, I found a Golem watching over me, where Gordo had been standing seconds before. Mummies were standing against the walls of the room! A stampede of monstrous metal feet circled around us! Raven landed on the arm- and back- rests of my chair! Around the Golem stones grew out of the floor! The overwhelming honking of Geese hurt my ears! Above me the shadow of a dragon filled the room, or sky, or was it a shadow dragon!? Closing my eyes I tried with all of my might to break out of these haunted dreams and hallucinations!
Opening my eyes, the Golem was still there, and so was the constant shimmering and flickering. A huge holed stone stood between the construct and us. Next to me Finn stuck a finger in the back of his throat, trying to get rid of the red fluid inside him. Not wanting to witness the result, I stepped out of my chair. Walking over towards Murk, who was examining the hole inside the stone. It was hard to tell if the crack in the stone was man-made, naturally formed or a product of magic, to me it looked like an eyelet or keyhole.
“We need to fix this!”; I said or thought,having the feeling that this was all that mattered now. Finding the moonstone in my pouch and trying to fit it within the hole. To no avail, as the gem did not fit, or better, was rejected by the rock. All of a sudden Finn was there with me, sticking his medaillon into the opening. Squeezing it in somehow! “It’s an ill fit, it needs something to make it stick together!” He yelled in my ear; “ Do something!” We both stared at the necklace, glowing like it was steaming hot, pulsating in the same rhythm as our surroundings were flickering!
Holding in a remark about his previous doubts of my capacities, I took a deep breath and kneeled down. Finding my spellbook in my hand as if it had never left, pages flapping towards the wished for spell. Weaving arcane energies into a magical hand, guiding this artificial hand towards the hole, pressing the necklace deeper into it. A magical force far beyond my powers and knowledge erupted!
The last thing I heard was the loud honk of a Goose. Then quietness, abruptly. A sudden, unnatural stillness, as if the air itself has thickened, surrounded me. In a way it was like resting on the water in a bath in one of Nook’s bathhouses, surrounded by steam. And I was alone, the only things present besides myself were the Idol, my spellbook and you, of course, my dear diary!
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The ink flows oddly in this place, but I
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What or who has set up this trap for us?
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What or who has set up this trap for us? Though gnome bankers are known for their excessive security measurements, this was far beyond that. And even farther beyond my arcane skills and potential. The only explanation I see is that a sorcerer, necromancer or powerful wizard that I annoyed, or even one of the Gods whose chapters and verses I neglected or violated, intervened and wanted to chastise and punish me. And my poor companions share this punishment because of me.
If we’re lucky this all is just to atone and put me back on the right track.
Small chance that it’s Azuth, he would frown at my attempts at magic and lack of discipline. Even stricter, Mystra could interpret my actions as misuse of the weave, a personal insult. Not to mention Oghma, who would approve of my learning but not of the mayhem caused. And let’s not forget Garl Glittergod, my own gnome god, who loves clever magic, but hates dangerous non whimsical magic. And who has probably some things to say about a young gnome leaving her parents and community too. And talking about my parents, Helm was the god my father served as solicitor, this god (and my father) would surely want to punish me for my petty thefts and fraud cases. And rightly so! And Helm is just one of the Gods of Justice and Law!
Then there is my spellbook and the Idol. Is the Hag involved in any of this? Or the former owner of the book or its heir? A truly talented and highly skilled wizard could have pulled this off too. And what does Finn know about the spellbook? Dear diary, I’m afraid this is all a bit much for a small gnomish lady.
