38 Erathisway, 4520: A Day in Battervold

Arkomir writes...   We woke this morning feeling refreshed, the quiet calm of the Priests Nook a welcome comfort after our recent travels. After a simple breakfast, we each set off to pay our respects—to Corellon and to Moradin. The Temple of Corellon was open and serene, its simplicity offering a gentle clarity. I sat for a time, letting the morning light filter through the columns, the stillness a balm to my thoughts. Dharra took The Long Rise down the side of the plateau, winding past businesses and dwellings built into the slope. The Temple of Moradin was set into the very stone of the plateau—a solid and grounded space, almost mine-like, but intentionally wrought. She sensed something deeper in its design—tunnels beyond the visible temple, and the unmistakable clang of forging in the distance.   Curious, she found a priestess named Kez who agreed to guide her deeper. They descended to a great cavernous forge, built around a coal fire at its heart, with four active forges and a sense of purpose that was impossible to miss. Tools, weapons, armour—they were making ready for something. When Dharra asked, Kez said only that the augers believed this would be a dangerous year. They spoke of what might come—of signs and portents, and Dharra mentioned the sigils. Kez didn’t know much of them, but suggested the scholars of Ioun’s temple might offer better insight. With that, Dharra gathered me, and we made our way to the Library of Ioun.   We made a donation and were soon ushered to an older scholar—Brother Leopold—who listened carefully to our account. He examined the sigils and mused that they could be of fey origin, or perhaps some kind of maker’s or wizard’s mark. He was intrigued by the idea that they may act as a catalyst for obsession, and suggested that while the marks seem new, they echo something much older. We shared what we knew—of our first encounters with the sigils. Brother Leopold noted that a being like Nullatrix may have forged separate pacts with different mortals, despite being defeated, and that such markings might indicate lingering influence. He confirmed the marks had no historical weight, but he sensed something emergent in them—recent but old, like a reborn idea. When we asked where Nullatrix had been defeated, he pointed us to the Brinebrae Swamplands. He also confirmed that Bright Shore’s only notable mention was its lighthouse.   We spent several hours digging through the archives:   The Cleansing Wave: Sparse mentions, nothing of substance.   Bruno & the Vanguard: Local heroes. A statue of Bruno and his second wife Sabrina stands at the western gate. Bruno and his band, with The Western Irregulars, were instrumental in Volder’s downfall.   Steinwark: Tense relations with Battervold, due to their shared border and status as electorates.   Volder: A giant who believed he had divine dominion over Eltharas. He worshipped Annam, a god of giants. Not magical, but powerful.   The Death Watch: A storied group: Sir Kadrik Dawnveil, Paladin of Pelor, wielder of Sunwake, likely fell in the battle against Vergrath. Elseld Thorncall, Melora's elven follower, wild and wise. Brother Calden, Raven Queen devotee and death tender here in Battervold. Lady Veyra Lysadine, a scholar of Ioun. Blinded in the final battle, she documented Vergrath’s crimes on her shield. Aman Hareth, her scribe. Vergrath, their foe—who made themselves undead to consume souls for immortality.   With our heads full of names, legends, and distant histories, we returned to the Priests Nook. The evening was lively, a group of locals playing music in the tavern. Dharra even took a turn and held her own.Later, Hanirash sent word—he and Lament are returning to Bright Shore tomorrow. He said he’d be in touch if more threads need following. With that, and the day’s weight behind us, we turned in for the night.