Campaign Chronicles

04 Newkolt 349 AC Harvek’s memorial was held in the Hall of Ancestors, a vast chamber carved from black granite veined with silver. All two hundred of the clan's dwarves attend. Granite’s cousin, Fargain, officiated the ceremony. Harvek Ironthane's armor,  battered and torn by umber hulk claws, had been cleaned but not repaired. It rested atop a stone coffin. His warhammer had been laid across his chest. Shard Thornwallen, commander of the militia, spoke, " Harvek Ironthane died where every dwarf hopes to die. With steel in hand and his kin behind him. The ranks of the honored dead welcome him." Brunna Ironthane approached the bier carrying a heavy stoneware mug. S he filled the mug from a cask of dark ale and set it beside her brother, kissed his head, and whispered, "Save me a seat," before stepping aside. One by one, every dwarf in the hold approached Harvek’s casket. A miner placed a small iron chisel. A brewer left a polished tankard. A smith laid ...

07 Deepkolt 349 AC EN ROUTE TO TARITHNESTI The wind roared past Kysek’s ears. The chemical stench of the first dragon's chlorine breath still clung to Dusk. The elf twisted in his saddle, craning his neck to get a good look at the lance-wielding rider closing on him from behind and cast a spell. Arcane power gathered around him, invisible tendrils of energy stretched out toward the mind of the rider. Kysek pushed his thoughts forward, searching for an opening in the man's concentration and, upon finding it, slipped inside. The rider stiffened suddenly in his saddle. For a brief moment, he appeared confused. Then his expression went blank as his resistance crumbled against Kysek’s mental assault. Kysek tells the lance wielding rider the other dragon rider has turned on him. He tells him he must strike the other dragon and rider first to gain the upper hand. There can be no mercy! The command flowed through the magical link joining the elf's mind to that of the rider. T...