We awoke in a storage cellar, our bodies aching from a seemingly endless day of battle. Athravan told us – almost reverently – that we were in a farmhouse, friendly to the resistance, some 10 miles outside of Montbelliard, although in the same breath he admitted he’d never been outside the city. When I return, I will certainly learn more about this wily elf.
As yesterday wore on, the demon caused our own dead to rise up against us. It threw the angel who had spoken to me against a wall, where it lay still for a long time. Fortunately, the demon did not turn its attention toward me, and I ravenously attacked the undead in an effort to retrieve my goddess-kissed dagger. I revived the woman Onu with my last potion, and she fought at my side, urging me into such a flurry of attacks, the likes of which I never thought possible! At that moment, a stinking and maggot-infested creature lurched toward us, its jaw gaping too wide in a grotesque mockery of life. I spun away, dove for my dagger, somersaulted, and plunged the beautiful blade into the monster’s dusty chest.
A moment later, we saw the Spire shoot magic sharply downward, as if it was attacking something in Spiretown itself! This caught the demon’s attention as well, it said “freedom”, and flew away. The angel chased it, eventually tearing off one of the demon’s wings. In my utter exhaustion I collapsed, and we all awoke here.
Besides garden tools, wooden benches, and various other miscellany, there is also a rack, bearing about twenty bottles of wine. Each bottle is decorated with a fancy “S”, which the elf says is the mark of the Sarpadian family. He says they are allies in the resistance. We overheard an argument outside, something about ‘attacking the city again’, and being rewarded with land. Could our ‘liberators’, or whatever it was that bore into our city today, be mere mercenaries? But with an angel fighting alongside them?
In the dank basement there was a chest, with a greatsword hanging over it. The chest was surrounded by floor levers, but I jammed one of them and opened the chest. Inside was a fine coat of silvery mail, a military badge like the one my grandfather wore, and medal of honor from the days of King Aramas! Beneath the mail were a few other items, including a wicked ornamental dagger. I took the dagger, along with a few coins and gems, for later study. Kresh took the greatsword down from the wall and looked at it greedily.
For a moment, we heard noises above us, as if guards were about to open the thick stone doors of the cellar, but then footsteps faded. Bracing ourselves for whatever would come next, we climbed the ladder, cautiously opened the doors, and peeked out into the world beyond.