Outcasts and Refugees

Session 33- The Final Battle

(Strogg's Journal)

Never had I seen such a horde. All manner of decaying, putrid creatures greeted us in the great cavern. Skeleton warriors, giant scorpions, and ghouls formed the front guard, but in the back we saw the shadowy forms of giant undead trolls.

In my usual friendly manner I stepped forward greeted the undead army, attempting to initiate a parley. Could we not find some common ground? After all, we had not come to this dark plane to kill undead (except, perhaps, for Dvallin), but to find the great elven sword. In response I heard a dark voice from deep within the cavern, swearing to dismember me, or some such nonsense.

A fight ensued, and I do not exaggerate when I say it was the fiercest in my life. Not once, but many times did I expect death to find me, and once it nearly did. Only the self-sacrificing actions of Dvallin saved my soul. All of us were wounded, all badly. We fought with perhaps less coordination and strategy than we usually manage; it was if some of us were in a fog. Kelgar swung his mighty axes, Aedric his fearsome sword, Rivyett hurled dark spells, and Dvallin brought himself near death in attempts to keep us going. My sword bit into so much undead flesh that I lost count of my opponents. My finest blow was from my humble sling, I brought down a giant troll from fifty feet away.

Their leader was a dark knight that Aedric, Rivyett, and Dvallin had encountered before (and thought defeated). His sword glowed with purple malice, but faded once he was felled. Servants of Shar, all of them. I tried to imitate the evil goddesses voice with my new trinket, but it fooled no one.

Exhausted, we searched the cavern, but found nothing except two deep holes. Descending one, we came to an intermediate cavern. We could hear water below. Committing, we descended further, and came to the lair of a great golden wyrm (the “tinyest of dragons” … or was it the “tidiest of dragons”?). His pile of treasure was so vast that I trembled with gold-lust. Kelgar held me back, lest I sign our collective death warrant. The ancient creature spoke; it was known to Aedric and the others! An exchange was made, an elven parchment we carried, for the Nai Rutha itself. Aedric finally held the legendary blade. So fine it looked, I daresay I considered stealing it in the night and running off. But where would I run? And I could not leave my comrades alone in this wretched plane. Together we fight, together we live or die.

I hope to see sunlight soon. I have great plans for how I will spend my significant coin. I fear that soon my pockets will be empty again, but that is the way of Strogg. There will always be more gold to find and take, from those who guard it less than vigilantly.



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