2 Flamerule, 1371

We have entered the desert of Anauroch in the employ of the Black Network. Our goal is to cross the great sand sea and ensure that this caravan reaches Llorkh. I know it sounds crazy, but it seems that the Zhentarim have established a trade road across the desert.

By the time we reached 8000 feet of elevation, we were all suffering a bit from the effects of the elevation. The wagons, already heavy with boxes and crates seemed to gain weight with each foot we climbed. On previous days we had camped well before nightfall and the troopers had trained in close unit formations using finely crafted crossbows, short swords, large shields, and banded mail. Not so tonight.

Rather than seek a campsite before sunset, we pushed on into the night. Vestele pushed everyone to drink extra water but kept us moving up the mountain until we came to a crossroads. Taking the branch to the right, we traversed a trail along a steep precipice where we found a bridge over a mountain stream. The river came out under the road to a sheer drop and then a long series of cataracts that fell a very long way down the mountain. The stone bridge had no railing, either as a way of keeping it hidden or to make it more defensible. Just after the bridge we came to a carved archway inside a huge cleft in the rock. A portcullis, guarding the entry was up and the depth of the cleft was sealed by huge steel doors bolted into living rock in a beautiful carved archway. There were remnants of dwarven runes carved into the archway.

Darvin was in the lead and he said something softly at the archway. A hidden Zhent guard appeared from beyond the door which was slightly open. The Zhent bore a torch that lit our way through. Though the door was open only a fraction, it was enough for the wagons to easily pass inside. The doors were two to three inches of solid metal and adorned with spikes and banding at critical points. As we passed the doors, we also noted arrow slits with archers behind them. I got the feeling that there were orcs back there. Past the door, we saw two crossbowmen and one guard with a longspear. The door could be barred with a huge cross piece operated with the aid of a winch and counter weights.

Inside was a room more than 50' by 100' in size. There were troops here, both orcs and humans. These included at least a couple priests and some monks. In the central area the caravan stopped and we pitched a sort of camp before being dismissed to a mess hall. Before we left, we looked around and could see hundreds of defaced dwarven carvings and images. There were more images, out of reach and still beautiful, higher up the walls and across the ceiling. I could feel the seething anger of Oskar beside me. Glancing over, I could tell he was covering a great deal of emotion. The thought of these bestial troops spending their free time destroying the beautiful, powerful, wondrous carvings of the dwarves made me ill. I could only imagine Oskar's fury.

As we were wondering just what to do next, Vestele introduced us to another member of our party. He was a man named Evendur. He knew a lot about the Zhent operation and was assigned by Vestele to get us up to speed on our assignment. He led us on to the mess hall but pulled us aside as something walked by. It had a long face and ears, wings and cloven hooves, a forked tail and smelled of brimstone. Evendur called it a tiefling, but it appeared closer to a demon or a devil than an outsider with only a touch of blood from the lower planes.

As we ate a large supper, Evendur told us that we would be crossing the great sand sea along a trade route established by the Zhentarim. I was shocked but he went on as though this was no great feat. We should expect hostile tribesmen, Netherese ruins, and great heat. We would carry water on our mounts as well as in the wagons. He recommended drinking lots of water and the salted coffee favored by the natives.

Evendur filled us in more on the rest of our group. He described Darvin as a watcher, not a talker. He was good at reading people but kind of eerie in how carefully he watches everyone. Khemed was along as the deal maker. Vestele was the commander of the troops. Evendur was a guide, but we should also expect to pick up local, native guides from time to time.

We left Evendur for a time and explored the old dwarven stronghold. There was a temple to the Dark Sun here. As we approached closer to this evil place I found myself shrinking away from it until I discovered that I was near to Oskar and his powerful, comforting presence. Beyond the tunnel to the temple we found a store room with a large scaffolding that rose into the empty air. We puzzled over this contraption for a time before concluding that there must be a portal up in the air at the top and that it was used to move supplies into the stronghold. It appeared to be rigged to be collapsed as a defense.

In the morning we were allowed to requisition gear and I got a beautifully made light crossbow, 60 very well crafted bolts, extra waterskins, a desert robe, and a tent. When we met up with Vestele, she had shed her armor and carried only a shield for protection. The caravan pulled out of the dwarven hold in the rain and continued to climb up a cold, miserable mountain trail. We crossed the pass early in the day and were soon heading down the mountain, but traveling was even more difficult as the constant rain made the rocky trail slick and dangerous. In places we had to brace the wagons lest they thunder down a steep section of trail and overrun the horses. Everyone was relieved when we finally reached the foothills and made a soggy evening camp.

The following day we came out of the foothills and the rain and into the desert fringe. It felt good to be out of the rain [Cat Stevens? - Editor :)]. Far of we could make out the tops of the Scimitar Spires in the west and the Desertsmouth peaks curving away to the south. By midday we reached the bed of a deep canyon and a winding, ancient riverbed. Here we found the city of Addas Babar, a sweltering place made of mud huts, tents a few larger buildings. There were caravans of desert tribesmen and Zhents. It was windy all the time and blowing sand was a constant irritant. Here we met the D'Tarig, short gray-clothed people, wrapped tight against the wind and sand. Evendur warned us that they were fierce traders and would sell you water without a skin to carry it in if you were not careful. There were also dangerous, harsh Bedine tribesmen whose word was sacred if you could get him to give it.

We had a bit of free time in the city so I purchased very fine quality traveling robes and a beaded desert hood to keep out the heat and wind. I thought that perhaps if I looked more like a native than a Cormerian spellcaster, I might be less of a target in an ambush. Unfortunately, that did not prove to be the case. Just walking in the midday heat to complete our shopping took a toll on me and several others. The heat was exhausting and left me very worn out. Together the small group of us worked out a way to get enough spells to protect us from most of the heat unless things got really bad. I would be memorizing a couple endure elements spells each day for me and at least one of my friends. Oskar and Xan would as well. Between us all, we would be fairly well protected from the furnace of Anauroch.

It seemed a bad idea to set out for the deep desert on the first day of a month called Flamerule [Ah, I'm glad somebody noticed that. :) - DM], but that is what we did. With a hired D'Tarig guide and four wagons more than when we traversed Daggerdale, we set out across the burnt land. Early in the afternoon I was hit by four arrows in an ambush. I was riding in a wagon at the time and fell behind the cover of the boxes before I could be killed, but it was a near thing. Primula, bless her and Corellen, arrived to heal me almost immediately. I saw only the retreating back of black Bedine robes when I peeked out to cast a retaliatory spell. I saved my breath and sank back into the healing spells of the priestess. We discovered that one of the caravan guards had not been as lucky as I was. He had been killed in the ambush. Mina, flying overhead spotted the retreating tribesmen and also saw another, an outrider that was set to observe the caravan's response to the attack. He too rode off into the dunes.

On the second day of Flamerule we arrived at the "Colored-Waters" oasis. There was a great bowl that rose out of the desert which contained a tall mesa and five scimitar-shaped lakes of varius colors at the center. There were fig trees and shrubs growing here and lions prowled about the lakes. Down near the lake where we were to camp three lions could be seen. Vestele told us to handle it and I cast a fireball to scare them off. I did the casting only after Mina checked for Bedine watchers and even then I did it behind cover. I hear that the Bedine hate wizards. I deliberately landed the fireball just in front of the small pride of lions, hoping to scare them off with minimal waste of magic and less danger to our caravan. I thought that injuring them with a spell would be more dangerous than frightening them away. I was rather proud of myself in the way I had gotten rid of the lions with the use of only one spell until Vestele rode up angrily and demanded to know why I had missed the creatures. I was crestfallen. In thinking back on it I guess that I had hoped to impress her. It seems that I had the opposite impact. Xan explained our case, saying that killing these lions would have had no overall effect on the population of lions here and that it would have only served to draw more of the animals in towards our caravan. Vestele looked skeptical and angry but said nothing more.

We stocked up on water and roasted figs that night. It was a quiet evening but everyone was tense after some of the caravan guards found the tracks of a huge dire lion. I just hope that that one does not come back until we are well away from here.

Your student,

Cedar