Year 26435 A.B.
The city is reeling. There is shouting and weeping in the streets.
The King is dead.
But that’s no where to start a journal entry, is it? With no context? Indeed, I should start where I left off. My apartment was of course trashed due to the sizable earthquakes, but it didn’t take too long to set it to rights. Before long we were able to relax comfortably, and began to peruse the books that we acquired from the library the day previous. Elliphany chose the books titled “Portals and You”, while I chose to delve into the History of Rok’Thull.
What I found while reading the tome has done nothing to ease my mind about what happened, quite the opposite, in fact. The temple was built to purpose as a “concentrator of portals to other planes.” The frightening bit came when I found that the temple on Ginoa was only one of five, and there are four other temples scattered across the globe. Four other powerful relics. Four other potentially world-altering disasters. I still cannot seem to quite come to terms with this fact, and will have to think on it more later.
On what may be a related note, I was able to take a closer look at the newspaper that we picked up yesterday on our way up to my apartment. There were a few articles that stood out to me, namely first that a large source of elderglass has been found and is being brought to the city. The was a very rare substance before, and large amounts such as this are unheard of. Also, an article about corruption in the city guard caught my attention, namely because I have commonly witnessed the guards being quite helpful in the past, and even just yesterday saw a guard go out of his way to help a young boy. I can only wonder if these things are all related to what came out of Ginoa, and I worry.
A couple of the acolytes from the city’s temple of the Raven Queen came by seeking me while we were studying, and I had to leave with them, as they required my aid. There are many, many newly dead in the city, and all of them require proper burial rites and prayers, lest we find ourselves swarming in hated undead.
I was away at the temple for most of the day, and felt that I had not made much of a dent in the seeming infinitude dead awaiting burial rights in the wake of the dire quakes, and more come through the doors every hour. I left the temple with a promise to return on the ’morrow for another shift, and walked home.
A rather odd sight greeted me upon my return. I opened the door with somewhat more force than I normally might to find Elliphany looking somewhat strained and Northrop standing next to her with wine bottle in hand and no shirt. He immediately excused himself in typically awkward fashion only to reappear moments later asking if we had any lockpicks on hand, as his door was locked. Elliphany later explained to me that she had been experimenting with making portals, only to open one up into Northrop’s bathroom. My neighbor works for the Mage’s Guild and dabbled in small tricks himself, and I could immediately imagine how interested he must have been to find a portal in his loo.
I am admittedly not sure how I feel about Elliphany experimenting with portals at this point. The initial incident with Northrop was harmless, with the only thing really wounded being his coinpurse. However, when I arrived home after my second shift at the temple, it was to find the apartment in partial disarray again, with Elliphany sweeping up ashes. Apparently, she managed to make a planar portal and a small fire imp got through. She handled the situation quite well, all things considered, but I still worry, and hope she’ll be more careful in the future.
A couple more days passed by without much further incident, other than I tried to help Barv find Northrop’s missing cat, but to no avail. On our way back from this excursion, Barv and I noticed a great commotion by the main gate, only to realize that it was caused by Prince Thormin Bluefoot’s return to the city. At first, the joy and uplift in the demeanor of the city around us was near palpable; the Price was well loved before his deport to war, being a very kindly man. When the Prince himself went out of his way to show violence towards an elderly woman who had fallen in front of him, however, those memories faded quickly. Many mumbled about how war had changed him as they left, no longer interested in the returning hero.
I was a fool to think I was done with the Vandercrests, to think that Eisenheim’s downfall was the end of it. A hooded man approached us some days after the Prince arrived back at the city and asked after Elliphany and I by name. He then asked if we were once associates of Eisenheim, and said something about our lives being in danger and that we should follow him. He led us to a boat, asking questions all the while. I wasn’t sure if I trusted him and was hesitant to give very thorough answers, and my unease was heightened when we reached an estate and he revealed himself to be one Matthew Von Vandercrest, Eisenheim’s brother.
He immedately struck me as being very pompous, and not particularly caring about much of anything around him but himself. He told us that all he wanted was to speak to us about what happened with Eisenheim. Load of bollocks of course. He took an interest in Barv on the way in, and I learned later that the tiefling took control of him then, to be used against us later. There was still further to walk, and Matthew’s interest remained mostly on myself, asking me very pointed questions about Rok’thull, then became evasive when we asked why.
I have never before seen a place so dedicated to stroking the ego of its owner as the tiefling’s solar seemed to be. He sat down and called Eisenheim a fool, said he knew a large part of what was happening on Rok’thull because Eisenheim had told him before hand. He then held up a crystal and asked if I had ever seen one before. There was a flash of light, and I found myself inside a small space, the walls, ceiling and floor of which were made of purple crystal. Immediately, creatures made of the same began to emerge and advance upon me. Through a combination of using fire breath and my scythe, I began to fight them off, and ended up cracking one of the walls. Upon seeing this, I drove at the spot seeking to break out of my prison.
Upon sucking me through the hole I made in the side and throwing me back into the world, the crystal exploded in fantastic fashion. I turned to glimpse Barv attempting to kill Elliphany as I swung at Matthew, and ended up cutting the bastard in half, sending his torso down into the pit in the center of the room. Barv immediately stopped attacking Elliphany, and said that the tiefling had mind-controlled him. I worry a bit, as some of Matthew’s guard saw us after, and they were wearing city guard colors, suggesting that he had at least part of the city guard under his employ.
We beat a hasty retreat out of the place and commandeered a boat to get back to the mainland, and just as we were pulling into the docks the city alarm bells began to go off, a rare occurrence. Initially, we thought the alarms were because of us, namely myself, having killed Matthew, but the city guards we saw didn’t seem to be paying us any mind. It wasn’t until we were well into the Vale side of the city on the way back to my apartment when the criers started.
The King is dead! The King is dead!
Finally, to add insult to injury, Barv announced that he was leaving us, putting himself into exile as he said he had broken his bloodoath by attacking Elliphany, despite our protests to the contrary. I worry greatly about what Elliphany and I can do by ourselves about the situation we now find ourselves in. What have we wrought upon the world?