Journal of Obroam: Into the Ruin

The 57th Day of Winter, 59 AD

My hand shakes as I write this….the Chaos is so strong here….but let me go back. It has been some time since I have written in my journal. Much has happened…..Houdens Funeral, the chief priest of Gyreford being false and in service to Malacai, the claiming of the Venomfang…..but those were then and this is now. Lets stay with the now.

We arrived at the ancient dwarven complex to find the workers murdered by goblins and orcs, whom we have dealt with for the moment at least. We discorvered a small blue glowing orb that was connected to the wizard Willisim, who was scared of those who hunt him. Sadly he had to cut communication before much information was shared. So, leaving our able and wounded followers at the camp, our group entered the complex.

The corridors are clean…possible magically so, though the Blue eye of Tangadorin shows no such magic actively at work. If not, perhaps the work team was rather busy cleaning before the foul ones arrived. The walls bare dwarven script that reads “Pain brings Service”, not sure what that is supposed to mean yet. The first fork lead to a body of a cultist to the right and metal sounds to the left. The corpse was missing half its torso and head….seemingly melted. Our group suspects a trap of some kind, though none is readily visible. So who choose to pursue the metal sounds. The path left has offshoots before the din and not wanting to leave things behind us, our party takes the side paths first.

This turned into a series of bracing, dog legging, and zig-zaging corridors…..I do not care for them…The first set brought us to rusted pips that seemed to whistle and a chest with tiny motes of green light. Like dust in a beam of sunlight…..and still the Blue Eye sees no magic, the Purple eye also had YET to detect any chaos…..a very strange place indeed. Either way, we leave these alone for the moment as they could be trapped and Brother Calandro doesn’t feel confident in dealing with them at the moment.

The next intersection held undead horrors. Littleling apparitions of some kind floated in an alcove that seemed ether a prison or torture area, their unclean touch was a cold as ice and sharp like a knife. Yet Calandro, Rem and I put them back to rest. With Rems final sword stroke with the Venomfang letting out almost a musical note as it dispatched the last of their number. Truly that sword is a tool of use against the Darkones and their ilk. It is good that our party has access to such an blessed item. What followed the fight was letting the skeletons the apparitions were around down and giving them finals rest. The others suggest these could go back to when the dwarves were around and that they could have been the ones to imprison and kill these poor souls. If true, may their Souls find Rest in the All Seeing Light of Tangadorin now.

After this was done, I inspected some sacks that exploded with dust, cause me to cough and sneeze uncontrollably. This could have been humorous if it didn’t possibly alter foes of our presence. But this act did reveal several bottles of powders, liquids and other things our new Mage Phaedra, thinks could be useful. For now they are with her. We moved on to several twisting and turning corridors, leading us to what brings my hands to shake and my stomach to churn. An area OOZING with Chaos, the Purple practically aches in my palm from the strength of it. The Very walls seem to move and writhe with the unclean presence. Down a side chamber stands and alter with a vile and loathsome idol upon it. The very presence of the object fills me with disgust. Its aura is a putrescence that cannot be tolerated. I could not bring myself to approach it….though it shames me to admit it. And even stout Rem could not douse it with holy water as I asked. Nay, the few drops that he managed to shake out evaporated before even making contact. Though Phaedra seems less bothered by its foulness and was able to examine it a bit closer, even making a sketch of the thing…..perhaps though not blessed with protections from a god like I am….perhaps my companions are better able to deal with such things more easily than I due to their lack of a connection to the divine?….I will pray on that later. I stand here, making these notes as my companions discuss our next path of ingress. By the All seeing Light of Tangadorin….i think that is an Idol of an actual Dark One….or as close to a facsimile as can be produced by mortal hands. It must be destroyed…..but how. I am shamed to say that….i dont know if I am capable of this at the moment. When I find the time I will pray on the matter and seek guidance in HIS Brilliance. For now We will continue on. There is a Wizard to save and Feltor MUST be stopped.