Excerpts From Viento’s Journal
By Andy Shuler

Day 29. The Great Devastation. It has been nearly a month since I left Hawk’s Fall and I now find myself somewhat lost. A great and glorious sandstorm ripped through my camp near the Aligorn Trail, singing the praises of the Prince of Air in beautiful harmony with the rich tones of Grumbar, stinging my eyes with the grains of his smallest children. As blessed as the concert was, it unfortunately scattered my gear and my copy of the map that was to guide me to the portal of Ieldaar and my hopes of home. I have begun a new journal with the scraps of paper that survived. Now the blessing of the morning breeze with grant me water and sustenance and I shall go on. “The wind doth scatter all works,” and so I pray for the wind to guide me on, in the stead of the map it took.

Day 34. The Great Devastation. The sun is hot, and the wind at my back. A land of three elements: fire, earth and Air. I am going closer to someplace and further from another, drifting along. The trail is nowhere to be found. I am lost, yet somehow I have never been more free. I pray that I will arrive at the portal somehow. How sweet it would be to look into Lyana’s eyes and see how my girls have grown. I pray that they are safe from the Enemy…

Day 37. The Great Devastation. An unfortunate turn of events. I have been impressed into service by a band of mercenaries. I came upon their camp in the night, glad to finally find another soul in this uninhabited, but gloriously windswept desert. I asked them for directions, but they instead surrounded and disarmed me, tying a heavy load to my back with my hands secured to it so I could flee at any productive speed. They won’t tell me their business, but I am sure they are after profit of some sort, be it magic, gold, or power. All I know so far is that the bearer they “hired” before me to carry their supplies died of heat exhaustion in the desert. This past day I have walked along with them and done my best to get on their good side. I hope they loosen up on me or I fear I may suffer the same fate as my predecessor.

Day 38. The Great Devastation. While the leader, whose name I gather is ‘Falrinth’, remains rather indifferent to me, I have made some diplomatic headway with some of the other members of the crew. In particular, they seem to appreciate my cooking ability. I have been able to turn what dry rations they have into tastier creations. Also, my ability to draw water from the blessed air itself has made me somewhat more respected. One of the men, a professional thief, seems to be easygoing enough and he was able to persuade the others to not restrain me so heavily next time. “After all, it’s a bleeding desert. The banker ain’t going nowheres.” All too true. Falrinth grudgingly agreed, making some disturbing comment that “We may need him whole.”

My captors consist of a party of five. Falrinth is a mage of some power and is the leader. There are two fighters, a surly dwarf and a large insectoid creature called ‘El-Kax’ who is of the Thri-Keen race. There is the thief, a rough brigand not unlike many of the pirates I once crewed with. Last of all, there is the assassin. A shifty, but consummately professional individual who I rarely see, as he spends most of his time scouting.

Day 39. The Great Devastation. Falrinth is rather annoyed tonight. It seems its taking longer than he expected to locate the place we are going to – a temple or pyramid as I understand - and keeps muttering something like, “I’ll never make the deadline at this rate,” and “… years of planning…” He spent a good hour yelling at the assassin for not getting the directions right and missing signs. I am not sure if it’s better or worse for me if they don’t find this place. May the wind blow with true course.

Day 40. The Great Devastation – Temple outskirts. Finally we have set up camp outside the ruins of a great temple. I thought I saw a huge shadow flit past the top, but maybe my eyes are playing tricks on me. Falrinth, despite out success, is still not pacified. Apparently there are some interlopers headed the same direction too. Not to mention a troop of fire imps in the area and a titan sighting. The assassin has gone on ahead to investigate.

In the meantime, I finally got the thief on good enough terms to tell me a little more about the project the group is working on. Falrinth is after the Hand and Eye of Vecna, an ancient lich king. Vecna… His description is not unlike that of the Enemy. Though I suppose most undead sorcerers look much alike, I can’t help but wonder if his influence is felt even here. I am all the more anxious now to be rid of my captors. I asked if the pyramid and the shadow I thought I saw would be dangerous, but he assured me that we shouldn’t have to deal with the dangers of the temple. “The Hand and Eye be down below it, and nary a reason to brave a temple of magical monsters that don’t lead nowhere when there is a shortcut. And Falrinth knows where it is.” There are some real magical items in the temple, as I gather since the thief seemed to have in mind grabbing himself a quick “bonus” on the way down. The monsters, however, are magically summoned and the whole multi-tiered temple inside the pyramid is nothing but a distraction to keep seekers from the true goal. The minor items the monsters guard are real enough, but you could spend weeks killing them and never get any closer to the Vecna relics. The true guardians are a splinter branch of dark elves that live in the chambers deep underground. They aren’t the common type nor do they worship the spider queen. The thief did not seem anxious to have any dealing with them. Why did Kas, the warrior lieutenant of Vecna who betrayed him and tried to destroy him, entrusted these drow as guardians of the artifacts that he built the temple over? Only Falrinth knows that, I suspect. They are in some state of war with other drow, even though the other tribes are apparently unaware of their existence.

The breeze this evening is light and sweet, refreshing beyond any air I have breathed since I entered the Devastation. A whisper of encouragement from the Prince of Wind or a parting kiss from the Lady of the Gentle Breeze?

Day 41. Inside the Temple. Well, I have finally rid myself of this party, but have fallen in with another. The new bunch is apparently looking of the same things as Falrinth, but plan, as they say, to destroy them.

It began this morning when I entered the temple proper with Falrinth and the others. The thief and the assassin were dispatched to deal with the interloping party, the same that I am now with, but never returned. I followed Falrinth, while the two fighters followed behind. Falrinth said something about the “passage through the Underdark.” Ugh. Dank underground air, trapped for centuries. What an abomination! As we passed a long, column-adorned hallway, I felt a sharp crack on the back of my head. The next thing I knew I before some kind of altar and Falrinth was preparing some scrolls, a ceremonial dagger and incense. My hands and feet were bound, but not too securely. Apparently the dwarf could not handle ropes as well as the thief. Now was my chance, if I was ever to taste sweet fresh air again. I slipped my hands out of the bonds quietly, and then untied my feet. I sprang up and ran away from Falrinth without looking back. Up the stairs I found myself back near the hallway with the columns. I also found a group of adventurers. They where suspicious of me at first, so I told them my predicament. I am not sure that they altogether trusted me, but when the remained of Falrinth’s party charged up after me there was little time to talk and plenty of time to fight. I grabbed a weapon and had at it. Several sticky black tentacles shot out of the ground to assist the wizard, which we dispatched readily enough but it bought time for Falrinth and El-Kax, the Thri-Keen gladiator, to make an escape.

So what of this new party? They number two corpses already, so they are faring little better than Falrinth’s crew. The survivors are a female elf, Riatha, a half-elf ranger, Emjod, a warrior-priest named Xeos, and Drake, a strange half-elf thief. I can’t get much of a read on Riatha or Emjod yet; both seem professional and capable but not ones to easily give away their true goals. Xeos is as zealous about the destruction of the undead and demons as he is attached to that pathetic trident of his. Though I am not one to pass judgment on the fighting style of righteous priests, I would say it would be far more intimidating to those who need to be put back into the grave were he to swing around that big sword he always keeps on his back. Tridents are somewhat fruity outside the hands of mermaids… Drake is enigmatic. He may be hiding something dark, or he is hiding from something dark. Oh well, it might be fun to travel with them a bit. And I would just as soon not see Falrinth claim the artifacts. If this “Vecna” creature is the same as the Enemy then it is my duty to do what damage I can to him and see that the artifacts are destroyed. Maybe hurting him here will help my home in some small way.

The party has one scroll with the power to raise the dead. The scroll is infused with the power of Vecna, naturally offensive the powers that grant Xeos his abilities. If the party asks, I would be willing to read the scroll to raise one of their fallen companions since Vecna is not in opposition to the Queen of Gales. Not that they are on the best of terms, since the undead are anything but fun, but there is no fundamental difficulty. I will balance the act with that of the power of wind by offering the choice of whom to raise to the Prince of Wind. I will cast a coin in the open air, allowing the wind to determine is outcome. Personally, I hope the fighter Etrigan is raised. The more muscle, the better, especially if we go against Drow…

I am wondering, however, if it would wise to raise anybody right away. It would mean a day of rest, and thus a day head start for Falrinth. However, it might be worth waiting to get the party to maximum strength. Better late than dead.