Blessed parchment and good ink! Where do I begin? There is so much to speak of. Adventures unlike anything I’d have thought possible.
I searched for so long to find the book. Some twist of fate, when it was within my reach, placed it into the care of my unlikely companions. Since then, it has been in the care of the mysterious tattooed elf known as Vridich. Watching his mannerisms, even paying careful attention to how he weaves magic, betrays his calling as a Nethermancer. And the others – each one an Adept. There can be no coincidence – the Passions are at work. I hope it is not the mad ones.
I placed myself into slavery, was chased by the undead, swam until I thought my lungs would burst, was eaten (EATEN!) by a horror construct, transported to a pocket dimension ruled by a demon, and somehow landed back here, in the kaer of the legendary Derin Kuyu. That alone should be enough for me to fill volumes. What scholar such as I ever landed in the middle of such madness? And yet, my mission has never felt more singular. The t’skrang does not trust me, and the others perhaps only grudgingly. Do they imagine I am mad to make myself a slave? They cannot understand the importance of that book.
We’ve now been here in the kaer a week since that startling return. A week of solid revelry. Even my dwarven vigor can barely stand that much drink and dance. But the others feast as though the Passions were watching. Perhaps they are.
Tomorrow we leave. I have made a vow to myself and my fathers to follow that book wherever it may lead. The Unchained (as I now call them) have made their own plans to bring the book to Throal. Thanks be to Upandal!