Maelshyve Expedition Field Notes (short story)/Field Notes - Part Six

You carefully open your plum velvet notebook, revealing the smooth pages of parchment within.

The page, written in Common, reads as follows:

Today is Volnes, day 21 of the month Imaerasta in the year 5120.

I arrive shuffling my notes, and hear Zenlynn greeting an elaborately braided Giantman named Aresag. It seems that there is little time for formal introductions, as everyone turns and begins to pile into the portal. Some of us hang back, and stare at it as if it will bite, but we all get in there eventually. This time around, I open my senses and probe the area for the feel of a sanctuary. I can't sense one, which is a little troubling to me. I hadn't probed the area at first, trusting to our initial efforts, but as we have been constantly attacked, I begin to wonder if that shouldn't have been one of the first things done. Now I cannot properly ascertain if there was a good sense of one on the first days we were here. An opportunity for consistent information wasted.

It is noted that there are formations of stone to the West, Northeast, Southwest, and Northwest that we can immediately see from our position. Aureliano checked the area, and we stepped to the Northwest to begin. The barrier is already shimmering. Rock slowly crumbles under our tools. Ciermont says that our work is necessary, but the rewards are worth the effort. Zenlynn says that a collection like this has not been gathered before.

As the winds pick up, we crack a bit of stone that contains a broken steel hilt. There are cheers and excited squeals all around, but digging tools are stowed, and blades are drawn as our eyes dart about - apparently this is a very smart group of individuals, capable of learning through experience! Ciermont says that it may be difficult to ascertain who the hilt belongs to, as it is the only piece we have. Fulmen sings a short verse to the artifact, but I'm not entirely certain if that was a loresong or a limerick.

(hasty, bad sketch of a sword hilt with measurements written along one margin)

I'm not the best artist, especially when trying to -- Oh, thank the spirits, there Isienaka is. He can make his own notes, then.

Talinvor grabs hold of the hilt and begins to sing to it. To his gaze, he is on a battlefield, with a keep looming in the distance. The vision flashes, always focused on bands of humans fighting trolls, orcs, undead, or human mercenaries. He swings his arm as if to fight, and says that a voice is shouting across the field. He cuts his way through undead with men pressing forward at his side, the keep looming above. Screams rend the air, and that vision ends. Daevian mutters that it was the work of banshees. Ciermont says that this is a dire moment upon which the world changed.

Jaysehn warns us, at this point, that the barriers protecting this place are failing - two of the crystals have gone dull! The thought is absolutely chilling. Akenna says that she is doing what she can to keep the protections intact. Clunk says that the guard on the other side of the portal should be alerted.

Talinvor staggers after the next verse that he sings. As he gathers himself to tell the tale of the hilt, Jaysehn urgently says that another crystal has gone dark. As much as I want to stay, I can't --

(From here, I am writing in retrospect, as it got.. busy.)

The crystals to the north and south were down. Akenna was casting at the southern one, and I joined her there. I wish that I had a better idea of what spells worked on these, but it seems unwise to experiment on the object that it actively keeping you safe. Maybe I will be able to study one in a more controlled environment later. I went with what worked. She flung spells as Jaysehn came in to check on us. Daevian ran in and began to add his power to the crystal. Akenna said that she was going to check on the others as Ciermont came to warn us that reptiles were attacking.

We had four dull stones and it was clear that our priorities were to dig as fast as we could and keep the barrier up. There was no real way to tell if efforts to add power to the crystals was working, but there was also no reason to stop. Archious said that he could feel the push of the flows on the barrier. It was hard to hear much over the clang of metal on stone. Clunk suggested that we sing to everything on the other side of the portal, and Falicor added that if we didn't, people might be singing to our artifacts in the future.

Jaysehn told us that we were running out of crystals, and that we should dig as if demons were over the ridge; because they likely were. The question was asked if we'd be trapped if the barrier went down - apparently we could still cross the portal, but the city's safety was a concern. We were moving fast. Alisette struck the ground and uncovered a torn shield made of metal. Unanimously deciding to sing when it was safe, we popped it into the veil iron box. We were rattled to the ground as a wasteworm reared up in front of us. If one could visualize 'Grasp of the Grave' with the hands as wasteworms, that was what the field looked like. People were digging at stone, and turning to slice at attacking enemies.

Eventually, we were down to the central crystal, and all the others gone had gone dark. The digging was at a feverish pitch, everyone was determined to eke out every secret we could from the parched ancient battleground. I left the main group group and stood by the main crystal with Akenna as she spun elemental energy around it. Daevian added spiritual magic, with Jaysehn and Aserak holding the position secure. More and more people came to stand by the portal until the last of the digging was done, but the fighting was escalating.

Cryheart asked if we are all ready to leave, and the shouts in the affirmative are cut off by a flash as the dome flickered overhead. It was very hard to mistake what slid toward us then as anything but a demon. I have never seen a... lizard that looked quite like that. I think that by some of the screaming I heard, a couple of people agreed with the assessment. It seemed to be a spiritual caster. Perhaps someone that knows more about demons could say more on that. I definitely saw the glow of familiar spells as it died.

You know that terrible silence before very bad things happen? The barrier dropped, and the center crystal went dull. We had to fight off two more demons to get clear of the field. I suppose I'm stating that plainly. Considering what it took to do that, it was not my happiest thought to possibly be trapped on the wrong side of that portal. We counted heads, and shut the portal quickly.

It seems that we will not be returning to Maelsheve without a shall army at our backs. I feel melancholy to not be able to explore it further. Yet. Perhaps there will be a way in the future. If we can push the valances properly apart.

The last burst of frantic digging rewarded us with a cracked lor runestaff, covered in scorch marks. It is being resistant to song, so perhaps it needs a bit of time away from the chaotic magic through the portal. In any case, Talinvor takes up the shield in the box. It is time to sing.

He raises the shield as if to block - Fog is in his vision, and he blinks, seeing battle. He is fighting and elves, but being driven back. Orcs and trolls around him are hard pressed. He adjusts the strap of his shield, and looks over the group of men around him. Blackened walls at his back are the only place to retreat. Wails and screams pierce the air, and he is clutching his ears, falling. Ghostly figures charge into the fallen enemies, and he feels himself begins to grin.

Talinvor staggers and tells us that the shield tells him of charging the enemy, laying waste to any that have not fled the banshees. The ground shakes, and there is fire. In his vision, he screams and runs from the battlefield as nightmares cut across the valley. He tries to reach the keep and hide, but trips and falls. A monstrosity looms as he attempts to stand, and he raises his shield - there is the squeal of rending metal. And no more.

It is asked if we will ever be able to return to continue our search. Zenlynn is unsure, but she says that the information the bards were able to extract is only the beginning. There are always more details to be found. Elemancers and Watchers will deal with the portal. She would have us work in teams, a few to each artifact. Those of us that wish to do so. We will study these items, and piece them together to form a proper picture of this history. She says that the Mirror will listen to our findings, and discuss with other representatives, and thanks us for our skill and bravery. If we have questions, we can send notes to the museum.

As I sit here in my room at the Moonglae Inn, I add some final notes that Daevian supplied to me. When I ran off during the dig, I missed part of the singing, and he was kind enough to share what he recorded in his journal with me. He said that Talinvor imparted that the hilt gave him a vision of dead people laying everywhere. He leaned on his sword, with blood on his brow. The banshees moved forward, troops fleeing. He staggered ahead, toward a group of arguing elves. The vision was replaced with another, and he was in the thick of battle, fending off undead with banshees closing in. He could hear the elves chanting behind him. There were shouts to hold, and screams cut off all sound as he staggered. He covered his ears, frozen, as a banshee loomed above. There was an explosion, and then... blackness.

I am beginning to wonder something about all of these objects, but I would like to think on it some more. I suppose it will only be speculation. Will we ever truly know? We will meet with the Mirror again soon, to discuss our findings. Maybe the answers will be found then.

You gently close your plum velvet notebook, taking care not to bend any of the pages.

Actual Artifact Short Description

a broken steel hilt

a torn metal shield

a cracked and scorched lor runestaff