~Journal Entry 2388


(Excerpt from the recently recovered personal tome of Lord Falin M'or Woodshadow, first born son of Captain Daetelis Woodshadow, Weaponmaster and High councilman, slain by the demonic hordes of the three nycaloths in his defense of Myth Drannor in the year 713DR, The Year of the Firedrake.)

June 12th, 602DR (Year of the sword)

OK, a little back story... We were sent off to retrieve our commanding officer's son, which had been kidnapped. Our mission was top secret and was never went into the Myth Drannor battle log. To everyones knowledge, this even never took place. We arrived at a small underground complex where magical scrying had indicated the child lay, and proceeded through its twisting corridors while meeting little resistance. Discovering clues throughout the complex, coupled with our own personal knowledge and experience about such things, we uncovered that the baby was going to be sacrificed in a demonic summoning ritual, in which the holy blood of this innocent child would be used to tear a portal into the outer realms to bring into the world this cult's leader. This, of course, only managed to strengthen our resolve.

As we neared the room where the ritual was taking place, we ran into our commanding officer's wife, much to our shock and surprise. She was the one who was going to sacrifice the child. Fortunately, we came upon her as she was still donning her ceremonial robes, which meant that we still had time. She turned and saw us, but before she could scream for help, I sped over to her, cupped my hand over her mouth, and gave her a forceful knock on the back of her head. She was out cold. We tucked her into an enclave at the side of the room so she would not be spotted, thereby alerting anyone of our presence.

We heard from the other room many voices singing in unison some unholy verse. We surmised that this congregation was the entirety of this cult, as typically all members would wish to be present at such an event. The notion that we could wipe this cult off the face of Faerun had not been lost upon us. We could also hear over the low singing the deep voice of a man, whom we guess was the spiritual leader of this group. He was becoming concerned that our commander's wife, who we later discovered had been involved in an affair with this same man, was not proceeding out into the congregation. Her lover sent a few guards to check up on her, and we could easily hear them rabidly approaching. Quickly, I donned a ceremonial robe and stepped out in front of them. "I'm sorry, but she is not ready at the moment,” I lied to them.  “My companions will escort her out shortly."

Everyone else in our adventuring party donned the robes, but we still did not have a look-a-like for the commander's wife, as none of us were female. Unfortunately for Tertiam, he was the most gaunt amongst us, and after a quick and hectic debate, he did his best to look like the woman. After we had gotten back, he didn't speak to me for three weeks, as I would send letters to him daily, complimenting him on his girlish figure. When we were all ready, we entered into the underground cathedral. Tertiam proceeded up the isle, while the rest of us took strategic possessions within the masses as we all knew that soon hell would be unleashed. Possibly literally.

Unfortunately for me, I couldn't "sit" because of Felblade, my greatsword, was strapped to my back and was concealed within the cloak.  Think of the inside of a human-built church when you think of what it looked like in here. Everything was arranged accordingly. Two great columns of pews on either side of a massive blood-red carpet which ran up the entire length of the room. When followed, it lead up to a giant dais, which looked like it had been carved from the very same rock that the church itself was built inside, as though the two were one piece. Candelabras were everywhere, releasing a sticky-sweet aroma into the air, leaving an ominous sense to those of us in the know of what was to come.

At the front stood a large human, which had the build of a Namkashaan barbarian. His coal black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and strapped to his side was a large mace. Everyone else sat down, and were trying to blend in with the chorus, chanting and everything. I remained standing for a while as Tertiam approached the man. He had used his magics beforehand to lengthen his hair and change its color to mimic the woman's, and he had altered his physical appearance with a custom spell he had been working on to give him the figure of a human woman. He did a good job, seeing how we elves were quite unfamiliar with the human female form.

After the ceremony had commenced, we waited patiently for our opportunity to present itself. The man had yet to bring forth the child, so we had no choice but to remain patient. Our time was running short, however. Just as the man had reached the apex of his ceremony, he produced the child and placed him on top of the dais Foul magics began to enter the room and a deathly chill came over all of us. I almost didn't see the guard approach me. "Sit down," he demanded. In a few seconds, our cover would be blown. My companions waited for my signal. I gave it.

“Go to hell, demon-pawn,” I spat and in one smooth motion, whipped off the cloak and unsheathed the Felblade. As I gripped its handle and prepared for war, my weapon sung its praises to me, as once again we would triumph over evil.

If there was enough time left in this guard's life, he would have felt fear. "FOR MYTH DRANNOR!!!!" I screamed, as I deftly cleaved the guard in two. As one, the rest of my companions drew back their robes and unsheathed their weapons. Tertiam imitated a screaming woman as he reached down and scooped up the baby, heading for the passageway from whence we came. Three more guards fell in a matter of seconds, and true to the words I write, all hell broke loose.

Here's an interesting tidbit... We later discovered this as we uncovered the truth about our commander's wife's allegiances. The man that was performing the ritual, one Ragathar Blackmane, was a member of the High Council, and held a seat on Myth Drannor's senate. Also, as a side note, the woman of note will not be named in this text, as our commander wishes her existence to be eliminated from any and all records so as not to remind him of his failures to see what he could not. Politics keeps this information behind tightly sealed lips.

Ragathar had his attention set on my warriors and I, as did every one else, which is what I wanted. The plan was for the four of us to hold everyone back as Tertiam made his escape.  Sure we were outnumbered ten to one, but we would gladly die to save that child. Unfortunately, Ragathar soon discovered the truth to the ruse, and Tertiam's cover was blown.


"THAT NOT HER!!! IT'S A TRICK, YOU FOOLS!! GET HIM!!" he bellowed, as the two closest guards turned on Tertiam. One of them managed to catch a hold of his cloak, and in an instant, Tertiam found himself held fast. "Falin!" he yelled at me as he tried to wriggle free. Try as he might, the guard's grip was too strong. "Now just hand me the baby, and I promise I won't kill you slowly," i heard the guard snicker. Those would be his last words.

The guard spun around in enough time to see the Felblade's descent. He didn't have enough time to scream. I buried my counterpart within the man's chest, taking it all the way to the hilt. In that instant I though back to my father's teachings decades ago as I was still learning to hold a blade. “It's not your strength that matters in a fight, is how you move.” In one fluid motion, Felblade sung from the man's chest, and deftly played a crescendo though the air. The requiem ended when it slammed into the second guard, neatly removing the man's head. "TERTIAM, GET THAT KID OUT OF HERE NOW!!!" I screamed at him. I recal the mix of fear and determination in Tertiam's eyes.

“This can't be!” spat Blackmane. “How could it happen like this! NO! I was so close! I will make them all pay...." It should be noted that the man had a powerful and commanding voice, and even over the noise of battle, he could be clearly heard. I watched him reach into his pocket and produce a small porcelain statue of what appeared to be a representation of a Balor. We later discovered that the statue was indeed to be used in the summoning ritual. We never discovered the name of the demon, however. Clutching in his hand the mace that had once swung at his side, he hauled back and with all of his might, obliterated the statuette. Nothing happened at first. The walls of the chapel began to softly shudder. Then the shudder became a shake. Then the shake escalated into utter chaos.

Tertiam noticeably winced. He knew what the demon-pawn was trying to do. He was trying to bring the whole damn complex upon us. Tertiam wouldn't let that happen. Rubble began to fall from the ceiling. It was little pieces at first. Then large chunks began to fall, crushing many cultists and guards alike. Tertiam caught sight of our longtime dwarven friend and my closest companion finishing off three guards.  "Brottor! Time to go!" He didn't need to be told twice.  Brottor put two fingers to his lips and blew out the signal that it was time to go, as he dodged the death that was raining upon all of us.

Tertiam continued his escape. I saw a large boulder that hit him squarely on the back. As he confessed later, the pain was immense, but the sheer determination that was set in his mind shrugged it off and he continued running. He actually had suffered from four broken ribs from that injury, but he didn't show one sign the whole retreat. He finally reached the exit and turned to see his companions exit as well, just as the stairwell collapsed behind them.

I was glad that Tertiam was able to save the child but my work was not complete. Slowly, I turned toward the traitorous Ragathar.  I knew what the man could do if he were to survive. He would be back. "NO!! NEVER AGAIN!!!!" I bellowed as I charged him. I knew he could easily kill me, as a man in his position is easily a very powerful individual, but I was counting on delaying him long enough that the temple would take him down.  Even if that did meant I went down as well.


Ragathar barely sidestepped my attack, and reached into his pouch to retrieve a powder. Before I could follow up with another attack, he threw the powder into my face, temporarily blinding me. "Not today, my young warrior,” he mockingly berated me. “Perhaps some other time." With that, the turned and ran to the back wall and activated a secret door which he quickly entered.

“BLAST THAT MAGE!” I thought, as I wiped the dust from my eyes. I caught site of the secret door just before it closed and ran through, just as the entire chapel came crumbling down. I could feel the violent shaking of the earth in my feet as the ceiling behind me buckled and collapsed under its own weight. There was an exit to the surface just ahead. I looked back to see the staircase behind me was collapsing faster than I could run, and just as the light of day blinded me with all its welcoming splendor. I dove into its brightness, a great rush of air and dust pushing me forward and out onto the soft embrace of Toril's green splendor.

As we all sat down to a fine venison ale stew that Brottor had made for us during one of our weekly visits to his home, the topic came up about this very adventure. I sat and listened as they all related the tale from their own eyes, and I had come to realize that this was truly one of our greatest. Brottor, although through tears of laughter now, confessed to me that he was crushed watching the complex above the underground cathedral collapse on itself. My companions at the time did not know of my fate, and had not witnessed my escape through the secret staircase, as the passage into the cathedral had collapsed behind them while I was on the other side. He told me that I would have made a great dwarf, which is something that would never be admitted to of an elf. I had silently approached the group while they all stood together lamenting at the loss of their leader and ally. Their tears were pure and their sorrow was deep. Be it cliché, truly these companions of mine are indeed my greatest treasure.

Our trials, however, had just begun...