A. The Battle of Leilon

Recollections Defending the South Gate

My name is Devon Cartwright, and I count the luck my offerings purchased at the Shrine of Tymora for my surviving the dark time of the 1492 DR Battle of Leilon. I can state with no doubt there are Chosen of the Gods among us, heroes without whom the world would be dark and dismal. These are my recollections of the courage, skill, and power they brought to our defense.

The Battle Began at Dusk

The first attack, to my knowledge, in this great battle began in the twilight of dusk on Moonday, the 2nd of Ches.  As we on the ramparts of the south walls watched, some sort of giant-made-into-zombie stepped forward from the hundreds of ghoulish undead lurking as far as the eye could see to the south and into the swamp we call the Mere of Dead Men.  I admit we were frozen with fear and awe as this huge being lurched to our gate, only snapping out to try to deter it as it began its repeated battering with a great tree-made-ram, seeking to crack open a way for the horde of creatures to flood our town and feast.

In rapid response, the heroes stood beside us on our hill-rampart overlooking the wall and without hesitation, leapt into action - some literally. The half-elven Ranger called Willow, known for her swiftness and deadly skills with her longbow, launched the first attacks on this giant: arrows shattering into shards that tore into the drooling minions nearby.  The shining elvish Paladin Belcoria vanished into mists, instantly reappearing between giant and gate, aglow with light and righteousness, the very embodiment of the hope we have to stand against such monsters.

Three men of this heroic group then followed, leaping over the walls to surround the towering foe, easily twice the height of even the enormous Tallon the Tall, tall for a man let alone the claim to being a dwarf.  The swordsman Ujio, like a cricket, launched himself to the giant's flank, dealing strikes with two weapons.  The hand-and-foot weaponed Mon-Kei, a blur of motion I could barely make out, delivering the final blows as this enemy was brought to the ground - almost crushing his destroyer.

I feared then our heroes would be swarmed by the scores of the dead, despite how unimaginably quickly this great evil had been toppled. But Tallon, interposing himself with the gate's defenders, unleashed a devastating wave of thunder, and I saw a dozen, maybe two dozen nearby this act get blasted back into the swarm of the horde. It would seem Talos is not the only one able to call upon the fury of storms! 

With this opening, the ever-clever Yeet Longshade, aided us in rapidly opening and closing the now-safe gates to allow our heroes back behind the walls.  Not long afterwards, bells rang in the town and they left our sector.  The remainder of that night, aided by the dark elf defenders and their impossibly keen night vision, we held off what I am told were Unknown and Unknowns.  I know the Drow are said to be vile and cruel, but I can only speak to the skill and courage of those who stood with us - I am thankful for that.

Quiet Before Nightmare: The Second Dusk

In the morning, the oppressive rain diminished for a while as daylight chased the undead back into the swamp, and we did not squander those hours to repair the walls - and ourselves, with the aid of our Councilors, the kind Merrygold Brightshine, with his/her medicines and healers and the thorny (but dedicated and competent) Grizzelda Copperwraught (I did not mind the "growling"!) Mid-day a shadow swooped over our position, some said it was a dragon, THE dragon, but I did not see it. In any case, the skies grew dark once more and terrible thundering and winds from the north redoubled the foul weather. I saw a shape return to the south, but could not say if dragon or just dark clouds - for this was god-weather, deceiving to moral eyes.

We knew the quiet of the day would not last long, however, as the sun began to descend in the west. Sparing not a moment, those of us on the walls could hear a chorus of high-pitched scraping and chirping noises rising from the swamp. Movement flowed toward us, but had an appearance we did not understand until too late. With mists woven to obscure, a swarm of pony-sized spiders engulfed the walls, climbing to our position effortlessly and baring dagger-like fangs. Worse, they had been strapped with bladders of acid, which easily burst, horrifically injuring my garrison comrades in arms - but worse, dissolving the integrity of the walls themselves!!

There seemed to be no end to the ranks of the crawling nightmare - then once more the Chosen intervened in our defense.  I had to pull back as a WHOOSH! flew past, once more the blinding speed of Mon-Kei, moving so fast he ran along the very wall itself! How he was able to accomplish this dodging the beasts, I cannot fathom. As he raced past, I felt a chill as the bodies of spider after spider fell away.  Looking over the edge, the surface of our wall was now coated in a layer of slippery ice. The spiders could no longer climb, and toppled into piles at the bottom, acid now hissing against the ground and eating through their bodies, crumpling them terribly - and yet row upon row still came, now scrambling to climb following orders of some dark master. These began to pile up against the icy wall, perhaps enough bodies in themselves to rise once more to our height.

Then the most majestic horse I have ever seen turned out from the South Gate, ridden by Belcoria the Starfire Paladin who now held in her arms a great scythe as we use to reap at harvestime. This dread weapon glimmered with a purplish flame that suddenly flowed like a river of death through the ranks of the piling spiders. The noble steed breaking through their numbers and the brilliant weapon slashing and scorching to cinders scores of the creatures, instantly collapsing the growing ramp of clicking, hissing bodies at the wall.

The claw of evil that had extended from the Mere of Dead Men then recalled its soldiers - spider and zombie alike, hundreds slowly recalled to be used in the wave of another strike. It was then I heard a bellow from Tallon the Tall and the crew at the town's single catapult just as its arm launched high over our heads the crystalline orb we received as a gift from our neighbors in the western Sword Mountains,the Gnomes - this was a moment I had hoped to witness, and the wait did not disappoint!

The Gnomengarde Grenade

So much happened all at once, I cannot assure my readers of the accuracy in my account.  What I can say is chaos and devastation unfolded against our enemies, dealing one last strike against them that night that led to a few precious hours to ready ourselves for the next attack, now that our walls were weakened to breaking.  

There was an ear-splitting BOOM and the air rippled as would a pond's surface from a thrown stone. Bodies flew from the point of impact as fire rolled out and through the ranks. The enemies looked maybe far-and-near as it became hard to tell their size or distance. Later we found tiny skeletons matching larger types of creatures. And gems embedded within the rain-soaked ground. Many of those fleeing ran right into range of our pikes, spears, and arrows - easy targets, blinded by the effect.

So enrapt with the spectacle, I hardly noticed that the wall and our own ranks had been completely spared of any ill effect despite the rolling destruction from the explosion. My lieutenant claimed he saw the warrior Ujio raise his hands as the blast approached, and call upon a great energy to protect us - like the shield of a titan - nearly 100 feet across, a hero for whom I count myself blessed to have served beside. 

Record of the Northern Defense

My name is Jack Torver, proprietor of Leilon's General Store and eye witness to the heroism in defending our town from the mighty armies of two great powers in 1492 DR: the dead of the swamp to our south and the barbarian pirates of the Storm Lord Talos descending on us from the north. Though my store lies to the south, my family has suffered peculiarly cursed encounters with the undead, so I volunteered instead to join the ranks defending the North Gate, alongside the newly-arrived troops from Neverwinter, both horse-mounted cavalry and many field infantry.

First Night: Barbarians at the Gate

For me, at least, it all seemed to happen at once that first night.  The rains had soaked the battlefield and our streets for two days, unrelenting. Clouds darkened the skies even in the daytime. To the south we heard sounds of battle - a deep pounding. Maybe not able to hold back their rage any longer, this seemed to cue the barbarian line we had been warily watching to charge the North Gate.  I had the boys sound the warning bell and went to seek out the heroes I'd last seen in the Town Square.  But running along the road that overlooks the Quayside, I could not help but notice zombies emerging from the dark waters there - like they just walked under the water, not needing to breath and such, you know?

By the time I reached the square and gave my account, the Neverwinter cavalry had already pushed the Talos savages back, so when I returned with our own barbarian Tallon the Tall in tow, along with the ranger Willow and the deadly Yeet Longshade, the nature of the threat had changed. Two massive stones slammed the walls and gate, launched from siege engines hundreds of yards to the north, far out of bow range. Two more launched from another angle, but missed their mark.  Without hesitation, Tallon ordered the gates opened as Willow pulled him up on her steed, a great black Unknown.  Atop the tower, the sniper Yeet took a position to cover his friends' path, picking off challengers with the precision of a Kingfisher over a pond.

The wolf moved like nothing I have ever seen, leaping over and around defenders, driving deep into the heart of these defenders, disappearing for three long breaths we on the wall missed, holding them in hope and worry.  Never taking even a moment of pause, the gravely professional Yeet continued to follow the return of half-elf and wolf, lethally piercing would-be attackers as they returned entering his range.  We could not see any sign of our barbarian hero, but no waiting was necessary, as a lightning born not of Talos, but of our own Tallon crackled as the greatest machine - the army's trebuchet bent under its own weight, cracked and reeling with the great force of its payload spinning it to the ground while bowling a boulder through the enemy ranks.

In the time Tallon had invested in building and reinforcing the town's defenses, we had become well-aware of the Greataxe called Hew and its tremendous knack for splitting even the sturdiest wood. A catapult fell to its punishment, followed by a great thunderclap - throwing bodies into the air - and Tallon the Tall appeared, as if cracking the space between, to stride confidently back behind the walls he helped form, as the Neverwinter cavalry  charged out once more to ruin the remaining siege engines, exploiting the disarray in the attacker's ranks.

The cavalry took heavy losses despite these advantages - for the number of lightning-wielders among the enemy seemed uncountable.  Archers and infantry stood ready as we took them back in and we returned to the walls to stand against threats throughout the punishing rains of the night.  All in all, it was quiet compared with the next day's push.

Clash of Titans

Dawn brought welcome light with the soak of the rain trickling to more of a misting beneath the gray skies stretching widely above the white thunderhead cloud stacked from the fields of battle to the heavens.

Late morning, with no warning we dove for cover as the great green dragon flew over the town and our wall - so confident in its power, it paid no attention to us on its way to the rival army. We were told the Unknown's breath would be a cloud of deadly life-choking poison, but what we saw it spill upon the barbarians was a black life-stealing energy.  Wails of agony erupted from even the battle-crazed berserkers. The crackling of lightning power from the priests and anchorite spellcasters seemed ineffective on this great wyrm, whose aerial passes sundered the army of the Storm Lord, once, twice, thrice... 

But high above the dragon, the thunderheads were shifting - storm clouds forming a more distinct shape of an angry God of Destruction: Talos himself joining the battle, looming above even this giant monster. Sudden wind sheers and twisting whirlwinds battered the flying beast, threatening to slam it to the ground - where surely it would be set upon by scores of enraged warriors.  Choosing its battles with more care, the beast retreated to the Mere of Dead Men once more, flying low over the city, taking in the view with care, none able to act against it, as its low ominous growl struck fear into even the most stalwart hearts until it disappeared into those mists.

Shaking free of this fear I remember noting the fires on the roofs all along the quayside and the sounds of panic on the docks.  But we had to turn our attention back northward.

Twas then She Roared

With the dragon's retreat, a legion of barbarians and pirates roared in triumph - and like a storm's echo in a canyon, thunder trembled and built higher and higher until the cloud-figure of Talos appeared to stretch an arm out toward our gate, where priests were employing shattering magics - and a blinding flash of power joined their magics to devastate the stone, earth, wood, and iron - opening the defenses to assault. Yet before the expected charge of their warriors, horns from their army's rear sounded and a more earthy and unstopping sound of thunder grew with the approach of a vast herd of Unknowns, driven to charge our remaining cavalry, now readied as a defensive line at the gap in the gate and walls. 

The horsemen briefly parted to let past a great mountain cat, who I later learned was the Ranger-called Champion of the Druids, Willow Wolf-friend herself in the form of the predator cat these boars would know too well as a danger - but this danger was but a cub compared to the roar she let loose upon the charging swine. A roar that challenged any of the crashes of thunder so far - a roar I could feel in my nethers - a roar that our most ancient selves knew to be the last sound they would ever hear. A roar that left no room for fight - only fright. Even the savage berserkers froze in their tracks as it rippled forward.

The sea of boars turned tail, fleeing in a chaos of tusk and trample and terror, surely scarring the savages severely.

After reforming ranks, disciplined by the war priests and knights, the ranks and ranks of the Cult of Talos, barbarians and were-boars and pillaging pirates would surge once more to the breached gate and crumbling walls, archers and lightning lighting roofs of the north end alight with fire as nightfall approached, finally breaking the line and entering the town.

Sundown and Rolling Thunder

We could hear the rumbles from an assembly of war-drummers on the rise north of town, driving the storm lord's wrath to direct lightning strikes just ahead of the entourage of warlord Fheralai Stormsworn, leaving only smoldering husks to slow her advance toward the tower. I am told by my wife that these heavily-armored elite warriors - Knights of Talos, War Priests, and the Blue Dragon-humanoids then confronted our heroes, Tallon the Tall and Ujio. The lightning strikes continued their assaults in this battle, but our own Storm Lord Tallon took these into himself and safely into the ground, sparing those around him, himself as much an embodiment of thunder and lightning as Talos' warlord. The ever-mobile Ujio, surviving punishing blows from these foes, launched as if from a catapult to the base of the Tower of Thalivar, ready to face yet another threat unstoppable by any it had yet faced...

I was, myself, on the north wall at this time - calling out what I could see through an enchanted spyglass my grandfather had handed down. A device able not only to see afar, but also to hear (when louder than a whisper). While assisting in directing our forces, my son's horn signaling to those in the field, I came to focus my attention on what became momentous events, to which I alone may have witnessed. So dire was the threat of the lightning strikes from the rituals on the hill, our heroes charged forth from the battles within the town to silence these war drummers.

The paladin Belcoria road forth on a steed like none I have seen before, with the living weapon Mon-Kei with her, and Willow alongside, atop the dire wolf once more. The ranger stopped short at an opening in the battle that surrounded on all sides, swiftly launching deadly arrows to the hill, their shafts exploding into splinters that pierced into all nearby her target.  The monk leapt from the back of the great steed, cartwheeling and tumbling to deliver crushing blows to one, then a second drummer, the mystical tendrils between fading.  The shining knight became before my eyes the very seeming of the great reaper, the death that comes to all. For her shield and morningstar had become instead the great scythe of the harvest, aglow in purple flames, and with this she swept through the tangle of enemies at the center of the ritual - drummers, priests, and berserkers alike slashed and burning with the radiance of her attacks.  In short order, the ritual was ended, and almost immediately the clouds began to clear overhead.

But our heroes were truly surrounded.  On the hill, Mon-Kei joining Belcoria to ride back to our own forces, found themselves trapped by a platoon of pikemen, twenty foot spears defying their escape. Below, the gap in the battle found by Willow closed upon her, surrounded by battle-crazed savages on all sides, hesitant to approach, but closing.

I truly feared I would witness the worst in what would next befall our heroes, and to this day, I do not understand what I make an honest effort to tell next, asking any reader to either presume my mind momentarily addled with the battle and fatigue - or open-minded and merciful in believing my account to be true.

The Dragon Girl

Through the spyglass, I saw all faces - enemy and ally alike - suddenly look to the sky. All in horror and despair, none counting the sound and sight of a descending Unknown as hopeful. The thick green breath of the creature blast into the pikemen at the hill's base and as they choked and twitched with the poison, the dragon landed to crush them, throw them, roar at those threatening Willow who then fled, clearing an area of safety for our heroes.

I saw then on the faces of Willow - then Belcoria a bright excitement and elation - perhaps even a tear, as all three cheered and rallied with what would seem to be their reuniting with a friend.  It could only be possible with the likes of our heroes, I believe, but this dragon - which all tales have me believe to be of the evil nature, spoke in tones not only friendly to them - but fondly. And yet, of a seeming as would an excited youth. As best I might recall were these words uttered:

O. M. G. I sooo missed you guys!  But I heard some stories about you and tried to find you a whole buncha times but you move around a lot! My brother is totally a buzz kill but you know what? His mate is like totally a nightmare! She's like way older than him and bosses him around and I'm like 'Mommy issues' - RIGHT? But they made so some dreadfully dull stuff there until I could figure out how to sneak off, which I did because - FUN!
So anyway, how ya been? Is the stuff I got you still OK? That trouble I stirred up in the woods is SO getting funnier all the time. Oh and hey I know I was doin that Reidoth thing right? <a POOF and the dragon is suddenly an elderly man, its voice now thin and scratchy> and this form is still useful when I need to talk to boring people and speak with gravitas and decorum and fancy but <another POOF and the old man becomes a striking young elf woman, bright-eyed and with green feathers woven into her hair and a necklace of green fangs> I have worked on this new one, which has better suited my mood lately, do you like her?  Oh bother and poo! I just used up my last change for today - ahhhhhrggggh! So what's up? Who are the bad guys? Let's crash the party!

And with this reluctant entry, I conclude my account of the battle. What transpired in town must be told by others, as I continued aiding in the spotting and signaling for the norther field of battle. For myself all I can report is the heroes returned through the gates, our town still ablaze in smoke and flame, an ear-shattering roar came from the center, followed by a great tremor, then the sky continued to clear, starlight sparkling above, a peace settling over the town as we watched the forces of Talos retreat toward the coast, where their black-sailed ships would take them to whatever place they yet lurk.

We spent two days putting out the fires and sorting the injured from the dead. And beginning, again, as we have several times before, to rebuild our town. But this time we have added statues of the heroes to whom we will remain indebted.

Official Reports from Leilon

3rd of Ches (Twosday), Year of Three Ships Sailing

To His Eminence Dagult Neverember, Lord Protector of Neverwinter,

The weather has been dreadful. I believe the pirate brought the ill disposition of their storm god with them. The rain seems unending and we are soaked and would be miserable but for the excellent ales and breads from the townsfolk showing their proper respect to our troops here.

While two other gates have suffered at the hands of these threats, the East Gate and quadrant of the town held fast under my oversight. We will surely send your troops home safe and newly-trained with field exercises.

With loyalty and dedication to my liege, the throne, the city and its lands,

Hazz Yorrum, Commander of the Lords Alliance Garrison at Leilon and acting Field Marshall of the Neverwinter reinforcements

4th of Ches (Windsday), Year of Three Ships Sailing

To His Eminence Dagult Neverember, Lord Protector of Neverwinter,

We have discovered overnight some nefarious ill-doers have fastened some sort of spikes on the fields outside our gates. Further, there seem to have been some incompetent fools who fell upon these to their demise.

Despite the skirmishing in the other quadrants of town, be assured the quadrant in my command remains secure. The losses suffered have only been to lend assistance to help put out the fires in the other areas where leadership and conviction in this conflict has been more careless than the nearly flawless defense of my East Quadrant.

With loyalty and dedication to my liege, the throne, the city and its lands,

Hazz Yorrum, Commander of the Lords Alliance Garrison at Leilon and acting Field Marshall of the Neverwinter reinforcements

5th of Ches (Nestday), Year of Three Ships Sailing

To His Eminence Dagult Neverember, Lord Protector of Neverwinter,

The insolence and ingratitude of the townspeople toward all your Eminence has granted this humble town is unacceptable. As the garrison attended to containing the fires that spread from the less proficiently-defended town quadrants, there was an assembly of rancorous shopkeepers, fishwives, laborers, and guildsmen - huddling children and their paltry possessions and clamoring to flee.

You may receive other reports, perhaps conflicting my official report, that I assure lack both veracity and authority to dignify your prized attention. No doubt perfumed with the ambition of gaining favor at the expense of this ever-loyal and staunchly reliable officer and servant to the crown.  It may not be inappropriate for your clerks to even consider official rebuke or reprimand levied upon the likes of the irksome and duplicitously defiant Ms. Halia Thornton or the momentarily-revered and notoriously boastful Belcoria Diamondstars for their dissent and infringement against my lord's authority in chain of command.

With loyalty and dedication to my liege, the throne, the city and its lands,

Hazz Yorrum, Commander of the Lords Alliance Garrison at Leilon and acting Field Marshall of the Neverwinter reinforcements

6th of Ches (Threesday), Year of Three Ships Sailing

To His Eminence Dagult Neverember, Lord Protector of Neverwinter,

The survivors among the reinforcements my lord has generously offered for hire will be on their way to return to your city within a tenday. We appreciate their assistance in finalizing the extinguishing of fires and removal of the bodies of fallen defenders and vanquished enemies.

Grizzelda Copperwraught suffered an injury rendering a leg lame, and somehow amplifying her notorious bellowing. Mercifully, the Priest of Lathandar, Merrygold Brightshine, for whom I must wholly submit respect and support any accolades one might issue, believes it can be fully healed and the dwarf returned to her renewed duties rebuilding the town.

Valdi Estapaar seems no worse for wear, though her inexplicable reverence for the mercenary adventurers may be suspect if it lingers overlong beyond their, perhaps deserved, short moment of celebration at this conflict's victorious conclusion.

We shall resume patrols safeguarding the high road and prioritize the gates and walls over the shops and homes as best we may against the pleas of the town's short-sighted and ever-selfish commoners. All reports are quiet from the Mere of Dead Men. As the coastal patrols may be vigilant to the pirate-savages, it is my understanding the retreat left wholly on ships rather than on foot.

With loyalty and dedication to my liege, the throne, the city and its lands,

Hazz Yorrum, Commander of the Lords Alliance Garrison at Leilon and acting Field Marshall of the Neverwinter reinforcements

As Told by Valdi Estapaar

Harbor supplemental record: Leilon Besieged (2nd of Ches, 1492 DR)
As recorded by myself, Valdi Estapaar, Overseer of the Fisheries & Harbor of Leilon Quayside.

The town has spent a month or more on defenses to its walls and gates. And despite my urging, little has been devoted to defense of the Quayside where I serve Dagult Neverember, Lord of Neverwinter in overseeing Leilon's fishing industry, working closely with the Rorsta Anvilhand, our barge master - who is gruff and elderly, but deeply experienced at her job.  We had sent the shallow-ships out to the coast in time to avoid the attacks, and put the barges in close, but the most we could read in defenses were some of the archers from the crew of the Bregan D'aerthe's ships Icingdeath and Twinkle. 

While indeed the sounds of attack and warning bells tolled from the town's gates, my fears were confirmed with emergence of a substantial attack on the quayside as well, as zombies began to emerge from the muddy waters - having no need for air, the creatures simply marched slowly through the saltmarsh to invade the town's docks. 

First Night: Indebted to Heroes

I was not unprepared for such a thing, however, and having advantage of high ground and familiarity with the currents and location, I was able to direct the defenders I had been assigned to take advantage of slippery and sticky terrain, flows and channels, and some forms of sea battle tactics. While these proved effective on the mindless and slow zombies, another creature burst from the dark water, tearing apart one of the garrison. 

A Drow sailor from one of the Luskan ships stood his ground as the creature locked its intent on myself - somehow recognizing me as the leader.  The brave dark elf also fell to this skeletal creature's immense claws, but gave me time to position myself behind a rowboat, readying an oil-bottle aflame to hurl around my boat-shield.  Hands trembling, I could not light the weapon and found myself suddenly pinned beneath the heavy boat, the "Boneclaw" atop, and raising those spear-like fingers, I could only imagine this would be my death.

But this would not be my final day, for the ones who brought Leilon the Lizardfolk allies, the Drow allies, who worked on our defenses, who rid Leilon Point of the shark people, who convinced even the reluctant Dagult Neverember to send reinforcements - these heroes intervened. It was the monkey warrior, Mon-Kei, the one whose body itself is a weapon, who lifted the boat from me and stood at my defense, and I knew no harm would come to me that night. The boneclaw was dispatched, and our defenders rallied to push back the zombie forces to be butchered by the lizardfolk throughout the marsh. Victory was ours that night.

Monstrosity of Horror: Meet the Griffon Monkey!

Rest was cut short for us, even as the light of dawn at our backs chased away the creatures of darkness we faced to the westward saltmarsh. But even the long, long shadows we cast in that early light were miniscule compared to the gargantuan threat slowly plodding toward us through the muddy waters.  We heard it long before we saw it. We could feel the thump of footfalls, followed by a slow slorping of muck as it raised each tree-like foot. As the shape of this unstoppable monstrosity formed, shots from its back arced high overhead, alit with flame, to strike rooftops and raise the alarms - Leilon's Quayside burning.

This creature as large as a dragon had a shape of an ox, its horns swung low and to each side of a long nose that could twist like a giant serpent. This was no living will in this giant, eyes dead white like a zombie, yet taller than any of the buildings of Leilon but the Tower of Thalivar. 

(Note added later): A traveler from the jungles to the south tells me what I describe here is an "Oliphant".

I thought this new horror yet another certain doom, an unstoppable vehicle delivering destruction from a platform on its back, from which the fiery missiles were launched by bows and ballista. But gleaming in the light of the rising sun, a proud griffon swooped across the sky, with the monkey warrior on its back - who then tumbled effortlessly to land atop the monster. My worry the hero would be lost was but momentary. The crew of skeletons burst apart with the fury of his whirling attacks, destroying the platform - until the monster's nose threw the warrior to the ground, lost in the mud. 

But it slowly turned and lumbered back into the Mere of Dead Men, never to return. We ran to the fallen hero, extracting him to return to town and assist with fighting the fires. The rest of the day we spent containing the blazes, with some success until the storm savages broke the northern defenses, pouring into the town.

Shadows at Sundown

The setting sun spread darkness once more across the harbor, and we began to receive reports from the lizardfolk of movement and the building of a fortification. The outer perimeter defended by many-headed Hydras, ridden by spellcasters, with priests in the robes of the death god within, the Church of Myrkul. And finally pillars that could reach out and impale intruders. The finest of the lizardfolk fell to these, forcing retreat.

Then began the attacks, again and again and again, shadow after shadow after shadow sent to our town to strike fear and paralysis and death just at the time we most needed our wits and every able hand against the fires and invaders. What could possibly reach the source of these summoned creatures? 

It may fall to me to tell a story of one of the heroes who resists the spotlight, whose parts in the stories seem hidden and so he may be easily overlooked. It is also quite certain out of both humility and his intentions and skill to be forgotten that the one called Yeet Longshade is muted if not omitted from the records, or the spoken stories and songs of storytellers and bards. I cannot with conviction describe Mr. Longshade or even say if he is man or elf or demon, so subtle are his arts and abilities. I must also note that he alone was fully witness to the feat I will describe, which I have gathered in the weeks that followed, speaking with Lizardfolk, interrogations of captured cult fanatics from the Church of Myrkul, and accounts of a few swamp animals who took notice and could recall anything, applying my tricks from the Emerald Enclave.

The lithe and effortlessly agile Yeet, clad in the dark blue leather armor, equipped with his clockwork crossbow device and that legendary rapier called Ghost Needle, boarded one of my enchanted barges propelled silently by a bound water elemental. Coordinating with the lizardfolk's shaman called t'Ssi'th'k, he would rendezvous with their scouts who would take him to the outer perimeter of the defenses of the dark tent.  The scouts had suffered dearly in gaining even glimpses of what had been desecrated within our saltmarsh in the form of a tent for this dark summoner. This site, to this day, is a place of dread fear and strangling death.

Patrolling the outer reaches were the hydras, mounted by Unknowns - keen-sighted and deadly. Within this, then, the vile frog-men called Bullywugs massed in great numbers, their spears tipped with unusually quick-acting venoms. The site of the dark tent itself was attended by fanatical priests of the dark god of death, having summoned warding pillars, keyed to lethally impale any intruders not Bullywug or priest in appearance and manner.  From this dark tent came these shadows - we still do not know if they were creatures or simply evil curses guided by temporary awareness to seek out targets and steal from them their will, their courage, their very ability to move and sometimes even to breathe.

With little hesitation or request for assistance, Yeet took on these rings of perilous defenses, with masterful stealth in silence and skill in disguise, command of shadow and darkness, and a steady hand with both blade and crossbow. On the docks of the harbor, we continued to suffer losses from the shadows as we waited, and waited, with hope in our hearts and prayers to the gods for our assassin.  Realization and elation came not out of merely the end to the coming of these shadowy phantoms of nightmare, but an immediate release from the hold of all of their effects. All but those who had perished were restored, their will to move and act returned.  While many of these sprung to action to extinguish the ongoing fires and re-engage in the town's defense, I split my own attention between continuing to direct the Quayside and turning ever-westward to pause and wait for Yeet's return.

Even my watchful vigil nearly missed the humble (man? elf? dwarf? gnome?) hero quietly stow the barge near the docks. He asked for no healing or even a moment to rest or take in a well-deserved ale, only of the status in town and where he would best next tip the scales. I knew of the heavy breaches to the north and south gates, so directed him to the town's center. I had stepped forward to embrace him in thanks, but my arms passed through the man as if he had been only a dream, and only out of the corner of my eye did I see his form vanishing into the chaos of the town's streets.

Heroes of Leilon

I shall record, if no other accounts do service, that none of these heroes requested or expected the statues we erected for them. In fact, other than some suggested adjustments from Tallon, Mon-Kei, and Belcoria, the heroes being venerated in stone seemed reluctant to the attention.  But I can say I saw each of them, individually, when they thought none might be watching, stare up at their larger-than-self forms for long moments. Perhaps this was in disbelief, or in contemplation of themselves, or simply reflecting on all they have been through to get to this moment.

I am of long-lived elvish blood. I am not one to risk unnecessary danger or expose myself to untimely demise. My memory will be long, as will the years and even centuries over which I will tell these tales, and in that small way, these heroes may sample a bit of deserved immortality.