Expedition Journal: Rolfgar

Entry One

24^th of Sleep, 68 EK, Fiorlas

It's finally here! This here journal was my sole obsession for the past couple of cycles. I would dream of it every night when I shut my eyes, and every day I would wake up hoping to find it on my desk. At long last, I have it in my grasp, and as I'm writing these words, I can see them being etched by an invisible pen in its twin. It is uncanny! I knew I could trust the enchantress, even though I'll admit that there were times when doubt crept into my thoughts, that she would abscond with my coin and leave me cheated. Yet the pylmae are truly as noble and trustworthy as every account claims. After all, if you are blessed with such a long life, you are bound to keep your name untarnished by any misconduct.

I digress, but it is only because I'm utterly mesmerized by the arcane effect taking place in front of my very eyes. It even mimics my exceptional calligraphy skills as every character is instantaneously transferred to the clone.

So why, you may ask, future reader of my endeavors, did I spend so much time and so many resources on this trinket? But of course, it is my safeguard, should the original go missing during my expedition to Rolfgar. So many things can happen; it can get stolen, misplaced, wet, burnt or otherwise thoroughly destroyed. I cannot risk having no first-hand account of all the glorious discoveries about to happen, for this is my legacy. This is what people will remember me by, my name synonymous with bravery, adventure and discovery! Generations hence, scholars may pore over these very lines, marveling at the foresight of Corandrel Smoothsole.

The twin will remain here in my chambers, locked in a safe place. I will soon test its range of effect to verify that no amount of distance can obstruct the magics that make it work.

Entry Two

50^th of Wilt, 69 EK, Waygate

It has taken me a long time, but I've finally managed to track her down. The legendary Venja, the best blade for hire in all of Doriande.

When she entered the room, I thought the statue of Kherawyn must have been modeled after her or one of her kin. She is wondrous. Towering more than two heads above me, her frame broad enough to serve supper on, her strength rivaling a pair of oxen yoked together. Should our horses falter, I have no doubt she could drag the caravan herself. I, of course, would not demean her with so trivial a task. No, she shall serve as my protector and the guardian of our company.

I told her of our perilous journey and she didn't even blink! All she said is that she expects her monthly retainer and a fair share of the treasure. I confess I couldn't deny her anything even if I wanted to, as she stared me down with her flame-coloured eyes, with such insolence that would make a hardened sailor tear up and choke.

I feel invincible with her at my side. With Venja guarding me, I cannot imagine any force in Dolvareth capable of halting my path to glory.

Entry Three

89^th of Blossom, 70 EK, Fiorlas

First of all, I'm very glad to verify the magical potency of the journal. I glanced at the twin when I returned home from Waygate and I was relieved to see that it functions as expected, no matter the distance. I didn't waste my precious pages on a separate entry, but thought I should note it at the first opportunity.

And this brings us to the newest development: two years of inquiries, "donations" and powerful speeches have borne fruit: a Grunor, and a dwarf at that, is to follow me along the path to her kind's birthplace. Dhruneya seems as excited as grunir can get. Her wit and wisdom are covered behind her seemingly young age, although she must have seen at least thrice the cycles that I have. As she works furiously to gather the long-lost wisdom of her ancestors, spread in tales, superstitions and songs of old, I have my mind elsewhere: that Pylmae enchantress may prove very useful in our expedition. Dhruneya thought so too, so I will have to approach her with a new offer. I really hope my charisma will prove once again adequate in convincing her to join me.

Entry Four

2^nd of Blossom, 72 EK, Skarm

I cannot believe two full cycles have passed since my last entry. But this is the year we start our glorious journey. While I am at Skarm on behalf of the family business, I've received word from Dhruneya that she's achieved what she started so many months ago: She has drafted a map and compiled a tome of notes on Rolfgar and the dwarven halls in its belly. Lucretta, the enchantress, has also agreed to join our fellowship, when I found her in Wilt of 71. Her powers will be of the utmost importance when we need to locate various artifacts or detect any traps that, true to their dwarven origin, may have survived the hardship of conquest, abandonment and time. I've already written to my estate, to start the preparations for the journey.

I can't believe that after so many years we are at last on the threshold of adventure! I may have aged since the idea first got stuck in me, but this won't be a problem for a man of my decisiveness and resolve. This is my year, the year Corandrel Smoothsole unearths the lost kingdom of legend and returns home victorious, with treasure and knowledge no other living person holds!

Entry Five

34th of Blossom 72 EK, Rivermark

Our venture toward fame eternal has begun! Songs will be sung about Corandrel, the Great Explorer, who with the mighty blade of Venja the Warrior, the guiding light of Lucretta the Enchantress and the infinite wisdom of Dhruneya the Grunor conquered the Navel of the World. Our story will inspire the explorers of tomorrow and guide the pens of minstrels into fame.

There's also my cook and squire who will travel alongside us, but they may better be known as "the one who can burn a tomato soup" and "the one who couldn't saddle a horse if it were bipedal and the saddle was a shirt", so they shall remain unnamed. Also, I've never learned their names and asking them now could spoil the mood and make everyone awkward.

We shall ride on comfortable carriages, drawn by strong and proud horses that have trodden the King's Highway since they were little foals. Less than a tenday from now we shall be past Waygate and into the ravine. From there, we will travel north, heading to Mount Rolfgar, which will be a breeze as one cannot miss its great bulk on the horizon.

Glory awaits!

Entry Six

36^th of Blossom 72 EK, The Whispering Forest

No sooner had we started our long journey, than we found ourselves entangled in a huge conundrum. As we were camping along the Highway in the forest, the cook had the brilliant idea to go foraging along with the squire, lest we hunger with enough supplies to feed an army for half a month. Suddenly, I saw Venja's fiery gaze fixed on the woods and before I could even ask her what was going on, she sprang forward like an arrow drawing her sword. I heard a big commotion, twigs cracking, heads smacking and the two idiots came out crying in fear, their baskets full of berries and their faces smeared red. It took me a moment but I realized it wasn't blood, they had just been stuffing their faces full, before returning to camp. I called out to Venja, but she was still struggling with something in the thicket, their grunts and roars sounding like two wolves mating. The cook finally caught his breath enough to scream "Monster, Monster!" as he pointed toward their direction. My heart was racing, until I saw a tangled mess of arms and legs and armor tumble out of the woods. Venja stood up, pointing her sword at its throat. You wouldn't believe what it was; an orc! In Doriande! Seventy years after the war! "How can this be?", I asked, dumbfounded. The orc held its hand up and outward, trying to signal Venja to wait for him to say something. She put her foot on his chest. He looked like the stories and paintings, only less fearsome and more like a thing of pity. His small tusks weren't scary at all, his face looked like ours, only a different colour. I couldn't understand. And then he spoke. His broken speech was difficult to understand, so Lucretta cast a spell to help us understand him in his own tongue. He said he was a half-blood. He had escaped captivity and silently crossed the border to Doriande. He said he was trying to survive and meant us no harm.

It was hard to believe a creature of this species to be harmless, given that his ancestors and their army of Father War had ravaged Doriande not so long ago. Dhruneya also had her own reasons to bear a grudge against them, as it was his species again that led to the downfall of Rolfgar, at least according to the most credible sources, as the fairytales also mention the Heinous One that the orcs were serving.

Lucretta, ever the gracious, told us she could verify whether he was being truthful and benevolent through a ritual she knew. I let her do it because I took pity in that creature, but also because a person of his stature could prove a useful ally. The magic revealed that he indeed was only trying to survive, alone in this foreign land. I took the rest of the group aside and told them I was going to invite him to join us. Dhruneya protested, and so did Venja, calling him a liability and a security threat. I managed to calm them down enough to at least accept him until we cross the border; then he can join the northern tribes, or find some other home.

As we returned to speak to him, he pointed frantically toward the baskets full of berries. "Don't eat," he said again and again. He tried telling us more, alas the spell that let us understand him had worn off. We abstained from eating, but the pair of doofuses had already had their fill.

After a few hours though, they seemed fine. They even shared some jokes and had a good laugh, keeping the rest of us awake for some time.

Entry Seven

43^rd of Blossom 72 EK, the Ravine

We made our way north and passed through Waygate, without raising suspicion about our alien companion, Ravik. Dhruneya had the brilliant idea to disguise him and Lucretta's skill in magic came through once again, as she transformed his strange visage into one of a burly northern fellow. We pretended he was slow and his slurred speech sold the act. Prime theatrics, I should note, even though our plan almost unraveled owing to the duo of imbeciles, who couldn't stop giggling at the sight of the poor fellow. Their inane humor got worse over time, until no more than a side-eye could send them spiraling. Their fits of laughter would go on for hours, so much so that they seemed to have difficulty functioning and even breathing. It was then that Venja revealed to me her worries. There is a malady that afflicts people near the forest, eerily dubbed "the giggles". It seems that those berries Ravik told us not to touch were tainted with the disease, or something else lurking in the forest smote the two. I pleaded with Lucretta to aid them, alas it was not in her power to lift a curse like that. With us being so far from civilization already, their only hope was to lean on their constitution.

Unfortunately this meant that we had to care for them, losing time and resources in the process. The others took shifts trying to feed them as they couldn't so much as hold a utensil. They massaged their cramped bellies to alleviate the pain and foraged what herbs they could to nurse them to health. All that effort was in vain, as one after the other, they laughed the literal life out of themselves.

We made sure to bid them farewell, cremating their bodies in a large bonfire in a cave where we camped. We gathered their ashes, using pickle jars we emptied as their temporary urns. Now we are finally able to move on.

Entry Eight

47th of Blossom 72 EK, the northern Highlands

It didn't take long for us to hear our stomachs growling. The cook was gone and with the squire's duties now burdening the rest of us, we had to spend more energy than expected. Every one of us has a specialty, but none knew how to cook a pickled pheasant properly. And although Ravik knows how to survive in the wild, this place was not a field of plenty.

As I was approaching the edge of starvation, I split from the group in an attempt to locate something edible. I wasn't going to keep it for myself, I just had a sense of duty to my fellows, so I decided to take the reins. As I started to climb a small hill, I saw someone stalking us from afar. I shouted at them, forcing myself to sound intimidating. Behind a pile of rocks, a small creature rose, then reluctantly approached me. It was a halfling! He introduced himself in an archaic form of Dorian, as Tombol. He then said that he was exiled from his tribe, for he was not as fierce and skilled with the bow and dagger, deemed a burden to his own. He was trying to survive the wilderness and saw us wandering, so he tried to make contact. He craved company and interaction and was very excited to meet the rest of the group.

He was greeted by a band of exhausted faces, their sleep interrupted too many times by their empty stomach. When Tombol realized our predicament, he applied himself to fix our mood. He put together a meal worthy of a royal councilor, using the ingredients we had carried all the way to the highlands, as well as some locally sourced herbs for flavor. He knew where to look for water, how much you should cook the meat and vegetables, what aromatics to use to produce food suited for civilized folk, even though he belonged to a tribe still living in barbarity. This fact really made me appreciate how deeply rooted the culinary art is into sentient beings, how it must be one of the cornerstones of society. Of course these tribes are in contact with Doriande, as they are visited by merchants every so often, but to have such a developed taste for food was something of a curiosity. At least I thought it was worth mentioning.

Rolfgar towers on the horizon, ever so close. Its shadow reaches beneath the highlands and into the large valley defining the region that bears its namesake. Such a majestic landscape it is, that it has always played a role in every culture I've met thus far. Dhruneya says that contrary to common tales, not all life began there, just the Dwarves. But I can see why people have woven that into their stories of creation, as every living species would want to claim the most prevalent landmark of Dolvareth as their own birthplace, putting them in the center of the world. Well if anyone will be able to tell the truth, it shall be us!

Entry Nine

68^th of Blossom 72 EK, edge of Rolfgar region

We were greatly deceived. The monumental size of Mount Rolfgar made it seem right within our grasp, alas it was just a mirage, an illusion. The vast distance we had to travel to reach the edge of the valley is nigh inconceivable. All this marching in the unsheltered expanse made Nir's heavy rays all the more unbearable. Barring the occasional rainy day, we didn't have much to protect us other than the canopies of our carriages. Eventually, the long, hard, unpaved route took its toll on our horses. All but one stallion finally gave out the past few days, so we had to continue on foot. May they tread in green fields for eternity, these magnificent beasts that served us so well. Unfortunately this setback will greatly reduce our carrying capacity, so we may have to repeat the journey to bring back all the dwarven riches we will discover. But the second one will be far less cumbersome, as I plan to fetch an entire convoy of our own.

Rolfgar stands above us, its peaks still carrying the Sleep's snow so deep in Blossom. We can see two of its four rivers pouring from its sides, nurturing the fertile valley beneath it. An entire jungle expands before us, huge beasts surely calling it home, if I may judge from the monstrous figures looming in the sky above it. We'll have to keep low, to avoid any dangerous encounter, but soon enough we shall pass the Gate of Rolfgar proper, as I trust Dhruneya's research to guide us there.

Entry Ten

77^th of Blossom 72 EK, Rolfgar proper

What an adventure! We navigated the forest to the best of our ability, staying safe for the most part, save one occasion when we lost our last horse to a wild beast of indescribable appearance. Never before have I seen such a terror with my very eyes. It devoured the entire stallion before we could react, then Venja urged us to flee, while it was occupied. So many days and nights passed with unease, the company kept watch at night and we regularly camped on top of large trees to remain guarded. But we endured. And now we've finally reached the Gate.

It was a jaw-dropping moment. Forgive me this vulgar expression, but I was certainly awe-struck, dumbfounded. Venja spat on the ground and exclaimed her disbelief. Lucretta forgot how to speak Dorian for a moment. Dhruneya wept and kissed the ground. The other two were less moved, but nevertheless impressed by it. The gate hung there, half-open, inviting us to be the first mortals in millennia to walk where Baen Pummeltongue once united the clans, the symbol of unity carved on its large plated surface a mark of his achievement.

As we gathered our composure, we proceeded inside. The dwarven architecture that had made such an impression on me from the mine I visited all those cycles ago, was unmistakably similar, only now I was looking at the entry of an entire city. Lucretta's magic light partially revealed the magnificence that lay before us. Grandiose columns made of the finest marble, carved with masterful expertise and reaching all the way to the ceiling, which was beyond sight. Golden fountains with water still springing from them and disappearing into silver grates, silently flowing out of sight. Statues of gold ornamented with the most beautiful gems. Some of them were visibly affected by the ransacking that took place all those years ago, missing limbs, eyes or other members. Surely Master Mirik's finger was taken from one of these. I will definitely visit him when we return, to thank him for the inspiration he gave me and I will make sure to bring him more treasures from his homeland.

The enclosed space makes one lose track of time. There is no way of telling day from night down here, so I may have to omit dates from further entries. I will account for them during our trip back, if Dhruneya lends me her wisdom to discern the date from the position of the celestial bodies.

We must now venture forth. The halls of Rolfgar await us. This ghost city is a labyrinth and we can waste no time sightseeing until we reach our goal.

Entry Eleven

Halls of the King

Oh my, oh my! I didn't believe it was true, but I was a fool. Dhruneya did not fail her task, we navigated the lost city and found Baen's Halls. As we entered, we were met with the largest treasure one could imagine: a mountain inside the mountain, made of gold, silver, and even platinum coins, adorned with artifacts and trinkets beyond imagination. But our exclamations of happiness and achievement were cut short. A large mass, lurking in the shadows suddenly rose, eyes piercing through the dark and scales glistening in the light of our torches. The Heinous One is real. Not only that, he still claims Rolfgar as his home. Venja grabbed me out of the way as Dhruneya carried Tombol. Lucretta cast a powerful spell to blind the monster and we all started running. But as we looked over our shoulder, one of us was not following. Ravik was in the monster's claw as it opened its mouth. I dared not look any more and we ran for our lives.

We have found shelter in one of the residences. The others are planning our escape. I think we've reached the point where things are out of our hands. Even though we won't be able to carry any treasure back home, we've experienced a true adventure, one that will live on for years to come.

Entry Twelve

Rolfgar Proper

I'm writing this for posterity. It turns out Lucretta's legacy, this journal, will serve its purpose, albeit not in the way I intended. It will forever provide testimony to my foresight however.

We started our way back to the Gate as soon as it seemed safe. After a long time of wandering, we thought we had escaped danger. Then Tombol's ears started twitching, following a subtle but distinct to him sound. "Ravik, " he exclaimed, running off to the darkness "you're alive! Thank the go...". His shouting ended abruptly. We could now hear the heavy footsteps of the half-orc and something grating on the ground beside them. Ravik appeared before us, bloodied, holding a large battle-axe. "You," he growled, pointing his wet finger at Dhruneya "weren't supposed to come here again. My brethren cleared your usurping filth from our Master's domain". His speech was clear, his stare unfamiliar. I couldn't recognize the fearful and polite refugee I'd saved not so long ago from certain death. Dhruneya was shocked beyond moving, her eyes running with tears as she saw her comrade turned evil. Venja sprang forth. "Where's Tombol?" she requested calmly. Ravik didn't respond. Instead he lunged forward, but as their blades were to clash, Lucretta sent a fireball his way.

We ran once more, but it turned out to be a play on their part. Out in the open alleys, the Heinous One lay in wait. Lucretta noticed him first and started to cast another spell, but before she could, he opened his mouth and fire sprang forth. I can't describe the smell of her burning flesh, her incessant screams haunt me ever since.

Venja caught me by the collar and dragged me to cover. I turned to look for Dhruneya, shouting for her to follow us. I saw her face, her stunned look. And then I saw Ravik raising his axe. My poor Dhruneya's body was split in half, her confused expression stuck as the two sides parted. My heart sunk.

My protector did not abandon me. I don't know why, she didn't owe me her life. At this moment I was just a burden, if not someone that put her in harm's way. But she carried me on her shoulder like a lamb being carried to the slaughterhouse. She ran like a cat, leaping over rubble and passing through narrow slits. But everyone has their limits, so she eventually had to stop. Ravik had followed us into the narrows, but the Heinous One couldn't.

She put her body between us, spat on the ground and taunted him. His axe clashed into her sword, breaking it, but she managed to cut him across the hip. Then their fight turned into a melee and then devolved into a furious grapple. I hesitated, but she yelled for me to run for my life. So I did.

I've been hidden ever since, waiting for a chance to slip away unseen. I feel ravaged and exhausted. I fear that my time is running out.

I came all this way to find glory after seeing a dwarven grave in Doriande. But now Rolfgar may end up being my own grave. A dwarf buried in human soil and a human buried in dwarven. It's almost poetic.

So unfortunately this might end up being my legacy.

I have lots to jot down in so little time. Every tick of my heart sets me off, as it's the only thing I can hear now. As I write these last lines, my biggest fear is that I will meet my demise before I fini