26 Kythorn, 1371

As ever, events have moved swiftly. We have defeated an army of trolls, spent a night in Fell's Tattoo Parlor, and are now on another secret mission for Randall Morn. All that and it has only been a little over 1700 years since I last wrote!

In my last letter I described the fact that we were in ancient Coniferia as the Flametongue wars were just beginning. Our part in the war was brief but dramatic. The troll army left us little time to prepare. Nearly all the forces of Coniferia were focused on getting the citizens evacuated as an army of more than 300 trolls approached. Our task was to fight a delaying action so the evacuation could be completed. Gilomide chose to stand with us and his help was invaluable.

Our defensive plan was very simple. It had to be as we had very little time to prepare. Since Coniferia was a lumbering town, there was no shortage of milled wood. We put this to good use by creating a series of killing zones by stacking dry lumber along the approach to the town, funneling the trolls into relatively narrow passages between even more stacked, dry lumber. On the ground, paving these funnels and narrow passages, we dumped several inches of oil-soaked sawdust, another plentiful resource here.

As the army arrived, the last of the Coniferians were still getting out of town. Some spell casters even used dimension doors and other spells to ferry the civilians out. We waited as long as possible, until the bulk of the army had entered the narrows, before fireballing the killing zones. The wood and sawdust went up in a rush, sucking air and creating a powerful, roaring wind. About 200 trolls died in the inferno. The trolls that escaped our trap remained a serious threat, and we fought them with fireballs and flaming arrows for an intense, terrifying few moments.

Before the battle, Gilomide had contacted the Emperor and requested aid. When Master Wands heard this, he went as white as a ghost. Pulling us aside, he assured us that when the Emperor arrived we needed to be gone as it was unlikely that we would survive the Emperor's "aid." I worried for Gilomide, but Master Wands said that with a few adjustments, he should be able to tweak the time gate to allow Gilomide to return with us.

As we fought the trolls, waiting for Master wands to get the gate open, a black rift opened in the sky and a menacing figure in black robes arrived on a flying carpet. Immediately the low metal wall around the city began to glow with white-hot light. We raced for the gate. Primula spent a precious moment trying to convince Gilomide to come with us, but he was convinced that the Emperor would handle the trolls and that everything would be fine. Finally, seeing that she was getting nowhere, Primula screamed and fainted. Gilomide caught her and raced to the gate, carrying the swooning elf. We leapt through the gate just as Coniferia exploded with white light.

Peraus Wands had just entered the gate and was knocked down as the white light exploded. He ended up with a case of sunburn, but was unhurt. He reached out into the emptiness and his staff appeared in his hand. Then he led us back to the excavation below Daggerfalls. We escaped through the gate as it shattered behind us. Master Wands was momentarily upset with the loss of the gate which had taken him months to construct, but brightened when he recalled that he had discovered the location of the Hlondath gate!

It took a few minutes of discussion before Gilomide understood what had just happened. As we were explaining, the enchantment that allowed us to speak and understand Netherese faded and we had to rely on other spells to continue our conversation. We eventually convinced Gilomide to spend some time in the Paladin's Guild Hall before pressing Master Wands to get him back to his own time.

Back in Peraus Wands' shop, the chronomancer revealed to us a set of ancient carved stone busts he had unearthed below Daggerfalls. The busts were carvings of our likenesses and included Gilomide. All were labeled with inscriptions declaring us heros of the Flametongue Wars. Peraus was only confused about why his bust was missing.

Leaving Master Wands' shop, we discovered that we had only been away for a few minutes. The town guard was still waiting for us outside the building. We reassured him that all was well and we retired for the rest of the night.

In the morning the town was buzzing with news of King Azoun's death. We ferreted out every scrap of information we could find about the end of the war in Cormyr before I was satisfied that the kingdom was not falling into ruin. Later that day we visited the shop of the Tooka and used his gate to travel to Sigil. My friends had gold and a desire to get some tattoos. In Primula's words, "We need to get liquored up and get some tattoos." I had other plans for my gold, so held back when it came time to get the tattoos. I went with the group and chatted with the others through the night as Fell, the odd Dabus created his magic tattoos. I watched carefully as he enchanted each of the tattoos. It was an unusual magic, not so much like a drawing that was enchanted, more like a symbol that held power of its own due to its nature. I did not detect anything that seemed out of place or unexpected for the tattoo to have its stated effect, though, I am not entirely sure that I would have been able to catch something subtle or carefully hidden. To be truthful, because this magic was so strange, even something less than subtle might have gone unnoticed by my untutored eyes.

Leaving the shop we had a terrifying encounter with a crazed warrior hacking citizens of Sigil into small bits. We fought the brute who wielded a gargantuan battle axe for a short bloody battle. Both Shane and Oskar, charging into the fight, were crushed by the monstrous battle axe. I tried to cast hold person using my wand, but the brute seemed to shrug off the enchantment with little difficulty. It was a battle that ended only when the brute with the axe lay dead in Rag Pickers Square. The axe itself was magical and appeared as though it was evil. We took this great evil axe and departed Sigil. For now, the axe remains in our quarters of the Merrydale Delvers Guildhall.

The following day we were summoned to a meeting with Lord Morn. He had a request for us. It was another very secret, very important mission. He introduced the priest Deveral who was an agent in the ranks of the Zhentarim. Deveral had spent three years deep in the Zhentarim network, achieving a position of power. He hires adventuring groups to do Zhent business. In reality, he works for the Harpers as a secret agent. He has, unfortunately been unable to discern the purpose of the caravans that have been going into the Desertsmouth mountains. He was now in a position to find out about these caravans with our help. If we agreed to help, he would place us as guards for a caravan heading into the mountains. Our job would be to watch and learn. We would go as far as we could possibly go with the caravan to discover their purpose.

We agreed to take on Lord Morn's secret mission but I had no idea what the cost was to be for poor Deveral. He showed us a writ introducing us as trusted servants, an independent band of adventurers. The letter was signed by Manshoon. Deveral gave us harp and moon pins that would be useful for hiding our minds from Zhentish mages and then proceeded to complete the introductory letter by writing Manshoon's sigil onto the page. I was horrified. It must have been doubly difficult for Deveral, a priest of Azuth, for as soon as the sigil was made, an image of Azuth appeared. The figure pointed at Deveral and declaimed, "Falsely done!" Immediately, the priest seemed to shrivel before our eyes, weakening physically and mentally. The light of reason was snuffed out from his eyes and two waiting paladins led the man away. I hadn't realized that I was holding my breath, but I nearly passed out.

Late in the afternoon of the 25^th we met Khemed, our Zhent contact in Haldreth's Glen. We had equipped ourselves with a few days of food and traveling supplies, leaving town quickly after Deveral's sacrifice. Khemed was a Calashite sorcerer with a taste for women and drink. He was outgoing and exuberant, but I sensed that he could be dangerous under that blustery demeanor. He examined our letter and refused to return it to us. He then disappeared upstairs with a tavern wench until after midnight.

We left town, heading northwest until we encountered wagons coming off a trail to the right. It was Darvin and 4 wagons. They flew a banner with the symbol of the Zhentarim. Darvin wore black and was menacing in his silence. There was a Zhent officer, a woman who appeared to be in command of the soldiers. She berated Khemed for being late and he blamed us for the delay. There were 16 soldiers guarding the wagons, all were armed with crossbows and swords. Darvin is the boss, the woman commands the troops, I still don't know what the Calashite's role is.

The following day we continued toward the mountains in the northwest. Everyone was on alert both for monsters of the wilderness and because Khemed told us that Morn's Far Rangers still gave them trouble, even this far out. Fortunately, when trouble came, it was not the Far Rangers. It was a pack of angry ettins chasing our own ranger who had been riding ahead, scouting. He raced back to a hilltop where we could see him and little else. He fired his bow and held his ground at a narrow pass. I got off one lightning bolt, and an acid arrow, but I could not see much due to the slope of the hill and the position of the pass. The ettins fell some distance from the wagons and only the ranger was even slightly wounded. One surviving ettin ran away after the others died. The acid arrow was still burning him as he escaped, but I doubt that it was enough to kill the brute on its own. I hope that its only friends were the giants that lay dead on the road.

I worry about more encounters. What happens if we run into people that live in these hills or the mountains ahead? I've heard that the Black Network will kill any who even glimpse their armies and caravans as they move secretly about the land. I thought back to the song I heard once, Meltherberand's Fall, the ballad of just such an event, sung by a bard named Fisher. The tune haunts me now. I caught myself once almost starting to hum the song. I don't think it would be popular with those I travel with today.

Your student,

Cedar