Tomes are a type of Collectable in Dark Alliance. Tomes deal with various subjects such as the discovery of certain Locations, the description of different races or even tell stories that have happened way before the events of the game for Lore purposes. Tomes can be found throughout the game Missions.
All Collectables in Dark Alliance
All Tomes in Dark Alliance
Name |
Description |
Quest |
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We've sent prospectors to dig some trial shafts into the mountain called Kelvin's Cairn. Most of the ore samples they recovered were of little value, but we have found occasional traces of crystal minerals that are encouraging. In particular, we've found scattered chardalyn crystals, which have many uses in creating magical structures and other items. Although there are no mages among Clan Battlehammer, chardalyn could be valuable for a master craftsman who gets the inspiration for their life's work. If we find chardalyn in abundance, it will be valuable in trade to the merchants from the south. We've also discovered a type of crystal that we haven't seen before, and it also appears to have some magical properties. It is a strange, black crystal, and Dolfur the sage says that it appears to be the remnant of some other mineral that somehow fused with ice crystals. We are testing this "crystal remnant' for practical use, but if nothing else it's pleasant to look at and can be used for decorations and jewelry. |
Location goes here... |
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We've had little trouble from the orcs, goblins, and giants since we defeated Irontusk until recently. A frost giant king named Hrald Grimmson came down from the spine of the world with a few of his retainers and ambushed two of our caravans to Ten-Towns. King Bruenor wouldn't let him take a third one and he wouldn't risk anyone else, so he laid a trap for the giants. He took a wagon full of mine tailings and headed for Caer Konig. He followed a route that gave him a good view of his surroundings, except where it passed a small grove of cedars. As expected, the giants charged out of the woods, and Bruenor drove the cart as fast as the mules would pull it in the other direction. The giants were almost upon him when the ground opened up beneath their feet, dropping them into a deep crevice. We had undermined that area so that it would support Bruenor and the cart, but not the giants. That day proved Bruenor not just a great fighter, but that the boy has a mind for tactics.. |
Designs of the Duergar |
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My day began slowly waking in the comfort of a soft bed in the finest room of Geldanstag's Rest. lnnkeep Glennan rolled out his renowned long, hearty breakfast, which sublimely transitioned into a hot dinner meal. When I finally emerged from the premises into the Dale's typical fresh breeze, strong hands suddenly grasped me from behind! I was quite taken aback, and told them so in no uncertain terms! They guffawed and firmly deposited me on a grand chair upon a litter, which was promptly lifted high above my captors' heads! A mug of Good Mead's finest was thrust into my hands as I got my bearings, and I realized that I was at the center of a crowd! Local musicians The Golden Wizard Gizzards began raucously rallying the crowd into a cheering, dancing throng that rhythmically lurched into motion. We snaked our way through town, meandering past the Speaker's Palace to each of the Gates, with a few laps around Marketsquare before the parade stopped and became a loud party that raged well into the night. Never could I have imagined such accolades for the deeds of this humble halfling! |
The Verbeeg Jamboree |
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I knew that this so-called Orc King, Irontusk was no match for our forces, but he gave me an opportunity. It was the largest force of orcs we had to deal with for some time, but we are stronger than we have been since Mithral Hall. I advised Bruenor that he could demoralize the orcs by defeating their leader, for what is a kingdom without a King? Bruenor did not catch my double meaning or my plan, which was for the best. We came up from a tunnel right next to Irontusk's camp, and the rest of us held off the orc's personal guard while Bruenor slew the OK leader. As I had advised, Bruenor tried to demoralize the orcs by yelling "Who is your King now?" I led the chant of "Bruenor Battlehammer!" and the stubborn boy had to let me put a crown on his head. I know that Bangor would be proud of his son, and I hope Moradin let him see us from Dwarfhome. |
The Goblin Tower |
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We established our home in Dwarven Valley because we found a defensible position to build a stronghold. We didn't consider that every ugly critter in Icewind Dale had the same idea. Our foragers have had to deal with crag cats and yeti, although they finally seem to be giving the valley a wide berth. The goblins and orcs have been more tenacious. In the first years, the only thing that stopped them from overwhelming our new home was that they fought each other as much as they did us. Once we had built enough fortifications and traps that they couldn't raid us, we still spent decades contending with attacks on anyone who ventured out into the valley. The upside is that it kept our soldiers fit and let the new generation learn some battle skills and earn some glory. The downside was, every time we pried one tribe of goblins out of their hole, a new band of orcs would move in. Bruenor organized the gradual expanse that finally gave us control of the whole valley, costly though it was. That boy should be our king, but he won't have it. |
Goffin's Door |
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My dear companions, I have arrived unannounced! Forsaking the comforts of home, my new friend, Kara and I, trekked to your camp to share food and stories and were most disappointed to find none of you present. We searched these foothills further, but all we found was a hungry remorhaz which became intent on making us its dinner! We managed to outwit it but the price of escape was some jerky and a pack of letters that I have recently written to you! What a shame! We saved the Dale from the threat of Akar Kessell and now it's time to celebrate! We returned to camp where we rested until we could resist temptation no longer and unpacked our cargo: a feast from the culinary genius, Luralek, the chef at Kelvin's Comfort tavern in Bryn Shander. The way she fused north and south with Curried Elk, cinnamon and orange tuber stew and fried banana was nothing short of transcendent! Curry leaves all the way from Chult, procured by Kartik, and you missed it! Speaking of Kartik, I have convinced him to remain at your camp to ensure you have what you need so you can return to civilization and celebrate with me! Farewell! |
Kelvin's Cairn (Next to the Merchant) |
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Reconnoitering with Rhiziel's squad, she cockily recounted the spoils of her foray into the valley. The raw numbers of kills and contracts that she collected were impressive, until I pointed out how the nullifying effect of the "goblin modifier" affected the value of her raw totals. A dark death-stare was her reply, which I enjoyed very much. Goblins have so little self-worth that they barter their souls as willingly as they would barter a gold cup or a clutch of hares. Knowing goblins, they would more ferociously cling to the gold cup than they would their soul. It's disgraceful how willingly they sacrifice anything, their souls included, to escape a situation or to get a petty upper hand. I debated conferencing with Hamboog, the goblin leading the gathered clans, as perhaps he could offer marginal value, possibly including a clause that delivered all of his crystal remnant to Stygia. But if he is too headstrong or drunk on his self-perceived power, any small gains would not balance our potential troop losses. As I told Rhiziel when we arrived, goblins are almost too trivial to bother with. |
Location goes here... |
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I fear that this will be my last winter. There is much in my life that I wish had been different, but I do not regret any of what I have done. If I could have one thing before I die, I would see my home in Mithral Hall again. We have built a good home for my people here, but it is a pale shadow of what we once had. Once I am gone, King Bruenor will be the last dwarf of the valley to remember Mithral Hall. I had hoped that he would lead us back there, and I trust that he will, but I will not be here to see it. I take solace in knowing that many of the wonders of Mithral Hall were built over generations. The engineers who designed Mithral Hall knew that it could not be finished in their lifetime, but they laid the foundations and left a legacy for the future to complete. My legacy is the survival of my people, and a King devoted to taking them home. |
Location goes here... |
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Our toil was for nothing. We cannot hold out until Thuldor Kronag arrives with the army. He may not be coming. The army may be destroyed already. The advance force is a small fraction of what it was, and what remains is scattered. Our last hope is that Hagedorn or the mad cultists will find the Shard, and that we can snatch it from them. I am sure that they expect this betrayal and will be ready, but we have no alternative. Many of our scouts have not returned, and those who did found nothing but danger. If we venture too close to the surface, the people of Icewind Dale attack us and drive us back. An allied group of dwarves, humans, and drow have slain many of us. They strike individually or in small groups, but there must be an army of them. They have devastated our ranks. The drow have never been our allies, but I am shocked that they are in league with the surface-dwellers. Laduguer has forsaken us. The Crystal Shard is our only salvation. |
Location goes here... |
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Bruenor came back from that business with the goblins in Termalaine with a squalling baby tucked under his arm. Apparently it was quite the dust-up! I'm sorry to have missed it, although I don't move as fast as I used to. It would be nice to knock a few more goblin heads together before I die. The baby is a human girl, Bruenor calls her Catti-bne. He says that he'll turn her over to her relatives once he finds them. The goblins killed her father, and her mother apparently died on the birthing bed, but she may have other surviving clansfolk. That said, Bruenor doesn't seem to be looking too hard, and he's taken a bit of a shine to the little mite. Can't say I blame him, she's robust fora human. She's got good lungs, and she bit my finger as hard as a crag cat. I don't think it will do Bruenor any harm if he keeps her around. Humans grow up fast, and they don't live that long, but it will be good practice for when he settles down and starts a family. |
Location goes here... |
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My tour of honors continues! The new inhabitants of Caer-Konig, mixed survivors from all of the Reghred tribes, are hosting a clan feast in my honour. What a privilege, it's so kind of them to offer so much when they currently have so little. But isn't that the way of the world? I arrived by boat from Easthaven, and as I stepped onto the dock and looked up the steep, terraced shore, my heart sank to see how great was the damage from the fires set by Kessell's invaders. As I looked more closely, I began to take heart, as I saw the clanspeople were systematically clearing charred ruins and setting up their skin yurts where wood houses once stood. Wulfgar's trusted advisor, Revjak, met me and walked me up the terraces to the site of the feast, a series of open tents set by the ruins of the old Caer. A feast upon the old ruins breathed new life into the place, but also wisely offered the best vantage point of the surrounding lands, to keep watch for new troubles in this dangerous land. |
Goblins at the Gates |
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Crenshinibon was forged by seven masters, and yet it has no master. Crenshinibon was forged by seven masters who were one, and they became Crenshinibon. The seven masters came from one will, one being, across seven worlds. Ojinimi, Beaver of Courcelle, Samaursa the Unsleeping Lord, Horvath Light Stealer, Domgad the Crossed, Gervais, Tyrant of the Red Wastes, Mijan Stoneweaver, and Lahlou Blood Painter. They were seven liches, from seven realms, and they came together for one purpose. They were one being, in seven aspects, split like light through a crystal in seven colours, to seven worlds. They came together from seven worlds to forge Crenshinibon, the crystal that would reunite the seven aspects into one power. In each world, seven masters toiled to create Crenshinibon, one of this world, and six shadows of the one from other worlds. In each of seven worlds, there was one master and six shadows, and each shadow was the master in another world. The seven had one thought, one mind, and one purpose, but no soul. They poured themselves into Crenshinibon and became one, and Crenshinibon became their soul. |
Goblins at the Gates |
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Another group of miners in Kelvin's cairn were attacked by wraiths today. By good luck, they all escaped alive, although Torbyn was badly injured. We hope he will recover, but there is worse news. Dolfur's suspicions about the strange mineral that we've been mining there seem to be true. We still don't know if crystal produces these undead horrors, or if it calls the creatures to it, but they always appear near the larger stockpiles. Dolfur believes that the crystal also caused some of the illnesses Clan Battlehammer has suffered these last few years. King Bruenor has made the correct decision, much as it pains us all. As I write this, workers are hauling all of the crystal that we still have back into the mountain, and then we will close the mines at Kelvin's Cairn. We've taken great pains to pry the crystal out of jewelry and mosaics, and even bought what we could back from the merchants we traded with at a loss. Some of it is out there in the world, but we will bury as much of the foul stuff as we can. |
Goblins at the Gates |
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Where are you, my companions? I sit here in the decorated hall of Good Mead, where I hoped that I might find word of your whereabouts, but alas, I hear not a peep. In days gone by, I would write to cajole you to slow down, to have a bite and a pint with me, to enjoy a few weeks of the quiet life. Yet lately, I feel a shadow upon me, and I wonder if the experiences of recent days has darkened my heart? The warm distant glow of Ten-Towns ablaze at the hands of Akar Kessell's evil horde? The screaming stream of refugees fleeing for their lives before the advancing goblin army, praying that they might reach and find safety behind Bryn Shander's high walls? Watching Speaker Agorwal and his warriors of Temalaine fall beneath the swarming horde protecting those refugees? Or the great danger I was in, alone in Cryshal Tirith with a tyrant wizard? These horrors have left me fearing the rising new evils who seek to answer the calls of Crenshinibon. I do worry about your safety. Good luck my friends, and may Weak' and all the gods of Faerun smile upon your missions. |
Location goes here... |
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We are far from Mithral Hall now, far from our home, and far from the nightmare we let loose there. I hope this place, Icewind Dale, will provide a safe refuge for our people, and a new home in which to raise Bruenor, the last surviving son of King Bangor Battlehammer, and our best hope for the future. There are no settlements of any kind here, except for the tribes of ores, goblins, and verbeeg. Our scouts report that there are human nomads living on the ice to the north. Evidence suggests they do range south - likely for hunting - but we have not seen any to date. The most promising features of this barren land is a canyon that cuts the land deeply enough to reach the bedrock, and the solitary mountain called Kelvin's Cairn. We will take shelter in the canyon. There are caves that we can fortify as a temporary home until we can build a proper stronghold. Icewind Dale is a harsh land, but if we can find some useful ore, we can survive here until the time is right to return to Mithral Hall. |
Location goes here... |
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Our toil has been rewarded! Thuldor Kronag called an assembly of the Muzgardt duergar clans to announce that Laduguer has granted us a new task. Praise Laduguer, may he bless us with toil. We must forge weapons and armour and prepare for battle. We will dig a tunnel to the north, where we will venture to the surface. We will face many foes on our path, and more at our destination. The way will be long, but Laduguer will guide our picks and shovels. Laduguer has granted a vision to Thuldor Kronag, of an ancient relic that must be brought to our cause. This "Crystal Shard" has awoken from dormancy and revealed its location to us. It is in a place called Icewind Dale, beneath the cursed sky. Ice and wind have no place in the Underdark, but we must confront them as we toil for Laduguer! Many armies gather as our enemies also seek the crystal shard, but we will be victorious. Our path will lead us to Battlehammer Hall, the home of a clan of surface-loving dwarves. We will smash them as we seek the shard! |
The Floating City |
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While setting our final terms of battle before departing Stygia, I told my forces to celebrate because they were going home! How I laughed at the blank confusion on their witless faces of my goats, my goatherds. They are a blitzing infantry of our Lord Levistus' armies, raging into battle against whomever I point them at. Their victims call them Hell Raiders, but they call themselves Tribe of the Goat, the name they bore with them to Stygia during the Netheril Gambit. After all of their gifts, punishments and corporeal modifications, their memories have faded and their name is all that remains of their past-selves. The goats were a tribe of wildfolk caught on the land claimed by Stygia during The Transference, and they were quickly and easily contracted into service. Facing a hellish doom that even their ignorant fearlessness couldn't deny, they all signed to ensure their safety, and thus in Stygia they remained. The goats were not the only material-plane stow-aways in the Transference. Our stygian giants began life as frost giants, and other trapped icefield inhabitants such as remorhazes, mammoths and snowy owlbears have survived millennia on the stygian icefields. |
Location goes here.. |
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Our toil endures! It has been five years since Laduguer blessed us with this task, and the great tunnel is complete. We have carved a path through stone and through our enemies, and we have been proven worthy. We have tunneled into a network of old passages that connect to Battlehammer Hall. The first task is complete but much work remains. There is a fortified bridge in our way, but there are only a handful of dwarves defending it. If we can take it before they can reinforce it, their stronghold will lie open before us. Thuldor Kronag has assigned me to an advance force led by Murdunn the mind master and Garnn the stone guard commander. We will storm the bridge and hold it until our main force can cross. We will defeat the dwarves of Clan Battlehammer and establish a foothold upon the surface. Thuldor Kronag will follow with our army, and we will march forth upon the land and take the Crystal Shard! |
Crystal Harvest |
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Crenshinibon was forged in darkness by seven masters whose power dwelled in darkness. Crenshinibon's power is darkness but its power comes from light. Crenshinibon drinks the light and creates darkness, and the light is endless, so Crenshinibon's power is endless. Crenshinibon created darkness and its power is endless so the dark is endless. Crenshinibon absorbs the light and in its heart it splits the light to create Cryshal Tirith, the crystal towers that are Crenshinibon. The Cryshal Tirith drink the light and give more power to Crenshinibon. Crenshinibon is a lens that can focus the light into fire to destroy its enemies. Crenshinibon is a prism that can split the light and reflect the light within itself, and can carry those within the Cryshal Tirith to its other reflections. Crenshinibon is in seven worlds, and may bring its followers across the worlds. Crenshinibon is like a mirror reflecting light and truth, and can show us the truth. Crenshinibon's light is endless, and when its plan is complete it will reach back through time and bring its servants to it to bask in the shadow of the One Light. |
Location goes here.. |
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Bruenor, you will be happy to know thatyour people are settling after their shock at finding their Dwarven Valley home overrun by duergar. It is still inconceivable that while Clan Battlehammer fought on the surface to save Ten-Towns, treacherous duergar emerged from the depths of the Underdark to claim your emptied home! Cassius took quick account of Bryn Shander's death toll and he has designated the apartments and barracks left empty by war casualties to now serve as shelter for your displaced people. As great a warrior and commander as Cassius is, he may be even more skilled as an administrator! Being friends with the dwarves, I am often called on to act as peacemaker. Your engineers have been giving excellent advice regarding repairs in Bryn Shander, gruff advice that isn't always met with open minds. I help ease tensions on both sides. I am also regularly called on to cool dwarven tempers that drunkenly flare over countless mugs of Flamebeard's Firebrandy at Kelvin's Comfort. Dwarven owner Ogden Flamebeard has a growing (and disparaging) reputation for being more Merchant than Dwarf for his exasperation with relentless brawling in his tavern! |
The Hunting Grounds |
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Early the next morning, Azendrus announced that with the flow of magic returned and with the population recovered, her commitment was fulfilled and our payment was now due. She demanded that we abandon Netherhall immediately and relocate to a site of her choice. She laughingly called it New Netheril, and prohibited any spellcasting until we reached our destination. Silence met her words as we registered that our rescue came at an unexpectedly high price. Engaging Azendrus' orders, I had the populace packed and ready to travel north within the hour. Days of arduous travel followed, finally bringing us to the location of our new home. Tents were pitched, fires built, and the spellcasting ban was revoked. However, while conjuring our food stores, powerful spells were still beyond our reach, but the reason was uncertain. Was it Azendrus' doing or was something amiss? The Arcaneers, our arcane engineers led by Rholarad, were still able to quickly raise buildings and infrastructure. With the rich underlying mineral deposits, I expected that we would be manufacturing our alloys soon. In such a barren region, Azendrus had remarkably found an ideal location for our new city. |
The Hunting Grounds |
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With access to the energies of the Weave restored, my people were revitalized and eager to flex their arcane skills after months of mundane survival training. Buildings, mines and fabrication laboratories grew from the tundra at an unheard of pace. My role diminished as construction surged and my relegation was unofficially formalized when Azendrus' anointed Lead Arcaneer Rholarad as Magistrate of New Netheril. Rholarad took aggressive actions in his new position. To stem apparent shortfalls in mineral extraction, he initiated raids on dwarven mining outposts to the west. These successfully infused New Netheril with both resources and captive workers to increase production. I would have taken diplomatic routes to this end, but my approach was the way of old Netheril. Once housing construction quotas were reached, I noticed a pronounced shift in construction. The housing remained basic, without the comforts common to enclaves, and all energies were directed to production of gateways and boundary beacons. To my calculations, the rate would lead to vast overproduction, but I was out of the loop and did not know Rholarad's reasons |
Location goes here.. |
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Such a beautiful day on the shores of Maer Dualdon, my friends! With every able body busily occupied with rebuilding the devastated towns Termalaine and Targos, the lake is wonderfully still and quiet. The water's sparkling ripples are unbroken by the fleets of fishing boats that would normally be aggressively zig-zagging across the lake, racing to their favorite fishing grouns. As precious Knucklehead Trout are pulled in, red flags would be raised up the fisher's masts, indicating how many and how large their catch was. Then the true ruckus would begin! The gloating and taunting, the accusations of illegal catches, fistfights and even swordfights, all over possession of the "white gold", the ivory harvested from the oddly protruding foreheads of the knucklehead. A large fish hauled in is a windfall of coins for these fishermen, ensuring greater comfort and perhaps a larger roast for the dinner table the following winder. Ah, but not today. Today there is peace and quiet, nothing to do but continue my own work: with my steady hard and artistic flair transforming raw knucklehead ivory into elaborate scrimshaw for wealthy Luskanites. No other scrimshaw can fetch as high a price as the scrimshaw of Regis. |
An Infernal Dispute |
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Crenshinibon called to Kelvin, greatest of the kings of the giants, for Crenshinibon saw Kelvin's ambition. Kelvin sought out the Crystal Shard, and made his will one with it, and brought the other giants together under their will. Not all of Kelvin's followers understood Crenshinibon's purpose, and some would not share Crenshinibon's will. Kelvin revealed Chenshinibon's plan, and became a vessel of Crenshinibon. Was he the One Vessel? No. And yet with Kelvin as its vessel, Chenshinibon achieved greatness - one step away from ascension. Fools say that Kelvin was defeated and taht the frost giant king failed. Chenshinibon cannot fail. Kelvin's empire fell, but all empires and worlds will be brought together in the Confluence of Seven Worlds. Many empires must rise and fall before Crenshinibon and the One Vessel are united and the Confluence of the Realms is finally achieved. Kelvin fulfilled his role in Crenshinibon's plan, and we cannot understand all of the plan. Kelvin's spirit was not able to merge with Crenshinibon as it was trapped by clerics of Tempus and sealed within a sarcophagus in the depths under Kelvin's Cairn. And there his spirit lies and waits to be one with Crenshinibon again. |
An Infernal Dispute |
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In Stygia, I had been briefed about the challenges of trying to recruit the Crenshinibon fanatics. Yet when an opportunity presented itself, I felt compelled to attempt to arbitrate terms with Kal Kreshmar, one of the cult's elders. In discussions, Kresmar spoke circles of nonsense, ranting about the seven fragments for the seven masters of seven worlds, the purity of ambition would raise the One, or was it the seven? Crenshinibon calls to its devoted, although with a weak voice after Kessell's fall, but I don't hear anything, so this is surely just the voice of Kreshmar's own Madness. Millennia of negotiations in hell couldn't prepare me for the ridiculous doublespeak spouted by this lunatic. We have no chance of entrapping any cultists with contracts, as their will is entirely dedicated to Chenshinibon. Nothing can sway their devotion, no promises, no alluring duplicitous clauses, no blatant lies. It took my utmost willpower not to slay him where he stood, but I reminded myself that if we can secure the Crystal Shard, we will secure the souls of every last cultist, as they will all joyously follow the Shard to Stygia with us. |
Order of the One Light |
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The flow of magic hadn't returned and my mind was flooded with catastrophic thoughts of why Lassalein never came for us. Without heat, food and cold-weather gear, citizens were perishing. We had no opportunity for proper burials, so the dead suffered the indignity of a mass grave beyond the edge of town. One day, as our last hopes flickered out, a nitherland wanderer, bristling with furs and weapons, walked in town and introduced herself as Azendrus. When we offered her lichen soup, she scoffed, and we, the accomplished and noble Netherese, were so defeated that we could only endure this wild woman's insult. She asked about our people and our dire situation and her eyes sparkled, betraying an actively scheming mind. An offer to help was made: she would save us from the cold, starvation and absence of magic in exchange for fabrication of Netherese infrastructure, if magic ever returned. All she needed were signatures. A queue of starving survivors formed, led by lead arcaneer Rholarad. He signedand the queue followd swiftly while I tried to think, to stifle my destrust and suspicion. When my turn came at last, hunger and fear demanded that I had only one choice. |
Order of the One Light |
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Crenshinibon has the power to dominate the weak and direct their will. The weak have a place in Crenshinibon's plan, even if they lack the ambition to fulfill it themselves. The foolish believe Crenshinibon's power can be resisted, but Crenshinibon has no limits! Crenshinibon only needs to direct those who will not direct themselves. Those of true ambition fulfill Crenshinibon's plan without direction. Crenshinibon uses each tool for its purpose. Those who must be dominated are an examble that we must have ambition, and yet they serve Crenshinibon's will. Crenshinibon shows us that our ambition brings us closer to its will, and it reveats its own ambition to us. The One Vessel will achieve its greatest ambition, and its greatest ambition will be taht of Crenshinibon's - a divine ambition! When the One Vessel is revealed, Crenshinibon will not need to dominate or guide or teach the vessel, because the vessel will share Crenshinibon's ambition and enact its will because it will share Crenshinibon's will. One will. One Light. One Voice. And so we pray, Seven Masters, hear our call, seven worlds, one in each, seven shards, each for one, unite again, Crenshinibon. |
Return of the Tyrant |
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With the contract signed, Azendrus spent weeks teaching us to hunt, fish and how to craft survival equipment with the minimal resources the land provided. While we studied and recovered, the hierarchy of Netherhall changed. I still resolved administrative issues, but Azendrus answered all questions of planning and survival. She seemed unisterested in our Ythryn mission, forbidding any return to the worksite even when workers once again fit, since, as she put it "frolicking in ruins" contributed nothing to our continued survival. Today, there was something new in the air. We all felt it, an ephemeral energy, a rippling electrical charge, but Melechan was the first to grab hold and channel it: she flung a firebolt high into the sky. The flow of magic had returned! Within seconds, a cacophony of cantrips exuberantly erupted, filling the air with firebolts, dancing lights and illusionary roars and thunder. Since none had memorized a spell in months, elated wizards raced to their spellbooks. Food, wine, warmth, all the comforts of Netheril would be ours in a night of feasts and drunken theorizing. But then Azendrus called a morning assembly, and everyhing changed yet again. |
Return of the Tyrant |
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