If any day could be proof that we will persevere until we have returned Naresh from whence it came, today was it. Our mettle was well and truly tested, and we press on.
Bastian Silverhand found us camping by the side of the road, as his truly amazing wagon came propelling itself past us. A marvelous thing, that wagon, full of fascinating oddments, and a small library of books.
Even the shock of seeing the venerable Bastian here, in the far Elven lands, was no match for our next shock: Lanathar. The thieves finally revealed themselves to us, and it was only moments later that their employer was revealed to us as well. Lanathar has quite clearly gone insane; his cool, detached demeanor twisting into calm sadism, it seems.
And that sadism was in full effect. He immediately disintegrated our faithful wolf, Tala, over whom he gloated without gloating. His next target was Dolartu. I saw not what spell was used against him, but his death must have been horrible; when I ran to his body after the fight, the demeanor was of the most utter, abject terror I have ever seen to blight a person's face.
To say the party was in low spirits would be comparing a fireball to a match. But all was not lost, for our esteemed druid was preparing, while I sat and remembered my friends, as well as brought Bastian up to date on circumstances with our group, a little surprise for us. The following morning saw us staring at two most remarkable--and I must admit, disturbing--sights. It seems that Altaire resurrected them both, but with unexpected results. Dolartu returned as a half-Elven woman, and Tala as one of the wild Elven folk...most bizarre. But they are back among us and I find that the relief I feel at their return overwhelms, for the moment, any misgivings I might have about their new forms. |
