Nareth
To Uthellon Truthwalker Leader of the Dwin'ghymn
From Nareth, of the Seven Sons of Dwin'ghymn
49th of Midfall, Year 1022 of the Age of Hope
Via Animal Messenger
Long Live Uthellon and the High Council of Moridem
Nefarious traps from ancient times delay our progress but strengthen our resolve. Our only avenue North traveled through a single slot canyon betwixt insurmountable cliffs on one side and the plagued river on the other. Good Korali indicated trouble ahead, but we had little choice but to proceed forth. Our attempt to gain high ground near the suspicious area resulted in shale giving way under our weight and dropping a few of us down directly into the path of the ancient trap.
I can still hear the cacophony of granite against granite as boulders rumbled down upon us. I barely escaped with my life. But this was only the first strike against the group as arrows rained down upon us from the living dead, mere skeletons, entrenched within the crevices of the rock and shale above. I was only able to use the talents learned from my time within our glorious valley to assist Zephir, freeing him from the stone avalanche, and ensuring that the living dead would return to the bosom of the ground from whence they came. The group fought valiantly and reduced our attackers to dust and rubble.
Upon further investigation it appears that the trap had been created many, many years ago. To protect what, we are not sure. However, it is clear that there is intelligence behind these traps that far exceeds the capabilities of the walking dead we have encountered. We must be wary.
Thanks be to you Uthellon and all my teachers for, without your guidance, I could not have furthered the goals of the light and helped the just reach victory this day. We will continue north tomorrow and . . . wait, something is coming this way. A great sound moving down the canyon, almost like the footsteps of a hundred soldiers. I must go.
Nareth
Zephyr
Valley of Death
Hasty march through rocky ravine
Torn and sundered by ancient battle
Answers are near
The dead rise in cunning ambush
With frenzied joy I dance and whirl
Laying bones to dust in new graves
Destroying undead without guilt or grief
My brother will be revenged, my clan cured
A mountain of bones shall be my atonement
Night of dark danger past, understanding breaks with dawn
Ancient evil unearthed from unholy ground
Carried by river, old blood brings new death
Black temple tended by dark wizard
Undead army toiling tirelessly
Redemption, death, or both, awaits
ack to the Age of Hope