he road to success is long and hard, and in our case - paved with bodies.
When we set out we were but innocent and young at heart, but alas, that soon changed. As I write this I can hardly remember what the first days were like.
There are only two of our original group left, some of the others have succumbed to a fate worse then death and some are merely missing, N'grof our troll warrior went into the ruins of Parlainth although several of us warned him against it. Several days later we found his chain mail torn to shreds along with some of his belongings - I can only hope for him that he is dead, and not some horrors toy.
Our windling elementalist Ladin got very sick while we where exploring the Servos Jungle and we had to leave him at a fortified trading post near Lake Ban, although he was a nuisance he will be missed. We have never heard from him since although we have made several inquiries, he was last seen leaving the trading post north to Throal. But I have not lost hope yet. Our new companions seems promising although I'm watching Ramling very carefully (I'm not sure our little "incident" was entirely accidental), but I must say I would rather prefer to have him with me then against me! But enough of my rambling.

remember when I first got aquatinted with this merry band, many, many years ago. I was visiting the city of Balgee making some studies in the arcane, when I was approached by a black elf named Tanthalos (I did not know that he was a famed assassin) concerning an "item" that needed transportation to the kings court in the great cities of Throal, I accepted the task and was paid more than adequate. As I that same night sat enjoying myself at the inn I discovered that a party of travellers was journeying to the city of Barter town. They agreed to let me accompany them, but in the morning when it was time for departure they learned that Tanthalos would be riding with me, this almost led to an armed fight between them and Tanthalos. I never did learn what the cause of such hostility could be but they refused to ride with him. At last I convinced them to let him ride 50 yards behind us, Tanthalos seemed to be satisfied with that.

e arrived at Barter town without serious trouble, some animals scared the horses once but that was all. I prepared to continue my travels with Tanthalos but it so happened that my fellow travellers had some business in Throal too. This journey to Throal was where I first experienced the dangers this land can reveal.
We were attacked and although they looked somewhat like bandits they acted more like soldiers, my fellow travellers performed admirably but I must confess that I myself was of little help I was stricken with fear. My suspicions regarding Tanthalos was also confirmed that he was sent with me in case of such emergency, although I was unable to understand why he could not deliver the "item" himself. I have later composed some theories, but that is not important.
My fellow travellers suspected the attack were directed at them and the conversation turned to their mission at hand.
They were in search of a silver skull inladen with jewels and two big red rubies as eyes. This skull was said to be made by a dwarf hero named Morgost and used to entrap a horror. The party had received this quest from Dunharagoth, the son of Morgost, and they were going to Throal to search their great library for clues as to whereabouts of this skull.
Upon our arrival at Throal, Tanthalos bid me goodbye and left, for good I thought but I had some dealings with him later on. The others seemed relieved that he was gone and I learned that they had conducted some business with him a while back, they felt they had been cheated. I have not asked Jacque much about it, as he seems to tense a great deal when this black elf is mentioned.

e were staying at the same inn and when I had finished my "quest" they asked me if I wanted to join their party. I emidiatly said yes, thinking of the excitement (surviving the previously battle still had my adrenaline going) and I had only thoughts for the adventure having heard so many troubadours singing heroes praises in my village. Oh how I have learned what sacrifices one must make to be a hero, on both my body and soul.

he party consisted then of Jacque de Ville a T’skrang swordsmaster, Ladin a Windling elementalist, Halgar an Obsidiman weaponsmith, Gandalf a Dwarven thief and me, Snare the Human nethermancer.


he first one to die was Gandalf. We had been travelling all day on our way to Tylon Mountains where we had learned of a little village called Bush Namar as I recall. The day before we had been attacked by a Gargoyle proving to be a difficult foe.
It was nearing dusk as we fell upon a shepherd living in a little hut, we were invited in for the night provided we did not leave the hut until dawn. The memory eludes me somewhat, but we all agreed except Gandalf who insisted on staying with our horses, then the gargoyles attacked. At first it seemed that we were able to fend them off but then more came and we all ran for the hut apart from Gandalf that fool. The horses had fled in panic and several of the gargoyles were feasting on a carcass when Gandalf charged the five of them, I sometimes hear his screams in my sleep. We buried what was left of his body next morning and named the valley Gandalfs end.

efore I continue there is something I must write. During our travels the others in the party has taken distance from me and I do not blame them although it saddens me. They are uneasy with my magic. I admit I have made some disturbing choices but it has all been for the good of our group. My arcane wisdom is a demanding mistress but I would not give it up for anything. And although I have nothing against the questions my friends ask me about my doings it disturbs me more than them that I am unable to answer some of them, ever since I got the "mark". I am checking regularly and even as it seems to be gone I can never be sure again.

he reason for our journey to Bush Namar was that we had learned from some farmers that foul things were afoot, and indeed as we walked through the village I began to feel uneasy. On a hill in the village stood a castle and upon entering we were told that we would be most welcome to stay at their local inn until next morning where the commander would return home. I had made some inquiries and was told that there lived a sage in the village.
As I entered his humble abode I was welcomed with friendliness. We talked and as it turned out he had some arcane scrolls of great interest to me, he then told me that he would give these scrolls to me if I were to make a blood pact with him. He told me that this blood pact would strengthen a ritual he had planned for tomorrow to end the suffering of the villagers (if only I had developed the most essential of survival skill at that time paranoia, much harm would have been avoided). The pact consisted of me not using any of my magic during the ritual, I know what you must think, that only a gullible fool would consent to this, but I did.
The ritual was of course not intended to help the villagers, but to call forth a horror. It was slain but not without cost, I instructed my fellow party members to make sure the sage was completely dead before we left. The villagers them selves turned out to be nothing but zombies and after a brief discussion we decided to let them be and left the village.

he next one to leave our group was Halgar our weaponsmith I think he got fed up with the adventure thing. Each time we came to a town or village it was increasingly more difficult for him to get ready to leave, he kept spending more and more time with the local smiths and their forges. One day he told us he had decided to stay for good, building he own forge and settling down. I must say I never quite understood him, but on the other hand we never spoke much.