OOC: I have to note that during my travels I was blissfully unaware of this attempt at the crown, so I will just continue as such:
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On my journey to the far north, I met many different characters like Rekthor Lulledhames the Fuchsia Color of Rooms, a demon slayer from Shadecavern the Deep Chasm. And Nom the Cheese, a gorlak that had started a small museum in the keep of Diptramples. This was the same keep where I was nearly murdered by two goblin bowmen one-hundred-and-twenty-five years ago. It is strange how some of these memories haunt you for a life time, whereas I struggle to recall large parts of my journey to the elven lands during this adventure.
Nom's museum:
I know that I shared my journey with many different travellers, most of them goblin adventurers. But there was a cat too. I fear I struggle to recall their names. Somehow, none of them lasted long. The woods were full of wolves and bandits, and though I am by now capable of fending of these attacks by slowly taking these enemies down, I always found my companions dead after these battles.
There was one ambush however that also almost ended me. While traveling I somehow found myself trapped by the most unlikely bandit gang. It consisted of a muscular honey badger, two goblins and a
demon expedition leader known as Letha Whisperedheaven. This was not any demon. No. This was a
charcoal brute, a huge towering sauropod with four horns that breathes large collumns of fire. The exact same type of demon that murdered me in the keep of Incenseorder in 712. That previous demon had ripped of my shield arm, which made the job for his colleague in the here and now a lot easier because I had no way to block the dragon fire.
A sharp phantom pain shot through my missing limbs as if all the old wounds had been ripped open, I had to get away! Luckily the demon turned on it’s companions first. Collumns of dragonfire tore through the air, incinerating everything in it’s path. Somehow, I managed to get away through the black smoke. The screaming told me that the goblins and honey badger were not as lucky.
I finally made it to Vacirayali where, according to the museum journals by Raki, the mothertree grows and the elves originated. I had expected to see the elven queen there. The queen who carried the same undead curse as me, and who was marked by a similar history.
I soon found that I was at the wrong place. Certainly, the mother tree was there, untouched. It’s massive branches heavy with feathertree eggs, eggs from which, according to legends the first elves hatched, and later, that abomination, Raki. But there were no elves here now, the forest retreat was mostly empty. The reason was obvious. Deep trenches had been cut across the landscape and dark goblin towers watched over the silent forest. The goblin towers were abandoned now, but they must have been witness to violent events from long ago.
In the end I did find an elf in the top of the mother tree and I learned that the elven court could no longer be found here. The queen could instead be found on the other side of the great channels, possibly in Trammeledjudges
I had almost made the decision to leave, but was confused, as Trammeledjudges should be a human town. But before I could leave the elf handed me a gift, a book from the library that can be found in the top of the mother tree. He urged me to read it, and I did. I found a spot high in the mother tree between the soft down feathers, and I read.
While reading I fell in a trance. It was like queen Vafice had somehow reached over the ocean through this book. Somehow between the pages, I felt we could share the burden of our curse, despite the distance. When I turned the last page I was a different dwarf. It was clear. I had to return home to govern, the book I took with me, it would make a fitting museum piece.
In pursuit of goverment, the elven book:
Before returning to the museum, I had one more visit to make, to Northcamp. According to the journals at the museum this was the place where Arcturus Cinderfang, the black bear man, retired after his rampage through elven lands. I found his hideout at the very northernmost tip of the continent: A small wooden shack in the midst of a dense forest. When I approached I was met by the most terrible and threatening roar. Alarmed I took several steps back: A massive black bear man lept from the shack. He wore armor and gear crafted from the hides of his victims, and drew two mighty artefact weapons. Arcturus gazed at me with eyes that could pierce slade, and let out another deafening roar. There was no doubt who would win this battle.
Then suddenly Arcturus collapsed.
I ran to the shack, only to find a skeleton. Arcturus must have been dead for decades before I got here, but then what did I just witness? How was this possible?
It was clear that a strange magic haunted this place. Arcturus possessions where here, but then again they were not. I could see his gear, but could not interact with it. His corpse though was physical, and I decided to take it with me to Herograves, to make sure that the black bear man could finally find rest.
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OOC: One more part to write.