Exploration of the Spire Hills and the Onyx Tower

Loose ends: the rest of the Tower remains unexplored; the Nameless Maid is still stuck here; the Undead Chimera under the Tower remains a threat; mutated experiments of the Merger present in the Spire Hills (energy wolves, Owlbears); Lamwen Darr

Participants: Cornix the Beaker, Jirel Flyr, Seeker Wrynn, Solas Arais

Location(s): Spire Hills, Onyx Tower of the Merger

The visual, in-character report for this quest can be found here: Cornix' report. The version of the document that is using a more readable font is here. 

Short summary:

The party explored the Spire Hills, where it encountered altered, mutated wolves infused with the powers of fire, cold, electricity and acid - twisted experiments of Lamwen Darr. Jirel Flyr found Owlbear tracks in the surrounding area when the Tower was reached. She would later hunt said Owlbears. Next, they managed to find a way into the lower floors of the Onyx Tower of the Merger, where they met the Haunt of Lamwen's Nameless Maid. Cornix the Beaker picked up her old broom and received visions of something in the basement. The group descended into this basement, where they were ambushed by an Undead, ghoulish Chimera, which resulted in the fiery deaths of Cornix and Onyx the Drake; the former was resurrected via mysterious means after his short glimpse of the Boneyard. Only Jirel managed to evade the line of fire. The others barely managed to escape due to her distraction. She left a warning for future explorers.

Full report:

Capitulum I: Colles Turriti

Reader,

Mine name is Cornix, and some knoweth me as the Beaker. I am a humble follower of the teachings of the Mother of Souls, and but a student of the Great Work and of the Mysteries of the Art, but in this report, I intendeth to present findings of a mostly different nature. I hopeth that thou findeth the following work satisfactory. 

Cornix' writing is elegant, ornate, and complex - sprawling even, in a way. One could find such letters in an ancient, dusty scroll, or a long-forgotten grimoire, and yet, they retain a particular quality reminiscent of primal wildness, not scholarly academia. An odd mix, for sure. Of note is the fact that, this time, his writing is a bit unsteady, and that it returns to its usual state only by the middle of the second chapter. 

During one of mine previous expeditions into this brave new world, on our way to the Elemental Portal Shrine, mine companions and I discover'd that the local avian fauna avoideth a particular area, roughly to the south and southwest of First Landing. In the meantime, those lands were named the Spire Hills, and a structure called the Onyx Tower wast observed there.

A couple of dayes ago, I gather'd a mélange of individuals willing to accompany myself - Jirel Flyr, of the Broken Ear; Seeker Wrynn and his loyal Onyx; and, at last, the one who walketh with dusk, Solas Arais. We prepared for the Quest diligently, which for myself did include brewing various alchymical tinctures:

On the margin, there is a bunch of smaller, tightly packed notes related to the mixtures in question. It might be deduced that they were written in a hurry, before being crossed out in a fit of despair. The text seemingly lists the reactants that could potentially substitute some other, less successful ingredients. 

Thus did we set out in search of an answ'r to this intriguing peculiarity. The weather, as promised by the forecasts, also brew'd up its own turbulent potions - t'was windy and increasingly chilly, but with no precipitations. Thankfully, all of us brought warmer clothing, which did protect us from the treach'rous penetrations of bitter cold. After two uneventful ⚙Sunnes and two even more uneventful ☽Moons (thank Pharasma for h'r blessings!), the winds ceased, but the temperatures dropped, while Jirel spotted sev'ral strange feathers and bird droppings. After some recollection and discussion, a Hippogryph and a Gryphon were proposed as candidates for the source of these findings.  

A small but detailed drawing of such a feather is on the margin next to the text. A faithful sketch of the first beast follows, alongside a quick summary of its general characteristics.

The drawing of the second beast is slightly more detailed, and placed in an elaborate frame - it is rather clear why such a focus was put on it, especially after reading further. The accompanying text is also somewhat longer and larger. 

Jirel did manage to follow the path which these feathers and excrement offered h'r, and brought us to the lair of the great beast - a large aery atop a nearby hill. While the ⚙Sunne wast approaching its inevitable death, we started building our camp some distance hence from the lair, and that is when the Hippogryph return'd, and attack'd us on sight. All we couldst do wast defend ourselves from this sudden attack from above. Wrynn seem'd unsettled by the great bird - mine assumption is that he had a particularly unpleasant encount'r with a similar creature during one of his previous trips to the Greyspine Mountains. 

The battle wast surprisingly short. Jirel landed a volley of competent shots, almost taking down the beast, there and then. In the meantime, however, anoth'r, much larger and fiercer Hippogryph did join the fight. Both of them attempted to sweep at us from above while flying by, but we managed to dodge their attacks. The lesser Hippogryph struggled not for long, though - mine less competent throw of a bottle of Ignis alchymistae wast still enough to sear its wing-feathers and its very life alike. Meanwhile, Onyx the Drake grazed the larger bird with his sharp fangs. 

This is when I did start mine ascent up the hill, in an attempt to gain higher ground. Jirel's next shot wast unfortunately deflected by the Hippogryph, which left it open to a sharp stone launched by Solas' sling. He follow'd myself soon enough, presumably with the same goal in his ☿Mind as mine own. 

The angered bird claw'd and tore into the drake, but this flurry of attacks wast not impressive, since we hath wounded the beast sufficiently, and Onyx wast indeed protected from grievous harm by a magical ward of some kind, sustained by Seeker Wrynn. The little damage that wast done, however, wast immediately healed by the holy and divine nourishments of Wrynn's patron.

Mine second flask of Ignis alchymistae wast a greater success, and it did splash all over the bird's neck and back. The treacherous ground beneathe mine feet prevented myself from landing anoth'r attack with mine beak, but it proved to be redundant when Jirel's two arrows did pierce the great bird, ending its very life. Jirel and myself then did carve hunting trophies for ourselves - Hippogryph talons, menacingly curved and sharp, which I affixed to hand-weaved cords and put around mine neck and mine wrist.

A drawing of these talons is to the side; Cornix seems to have decorated them further since returning from this mission - curious runes and glyphs, probably alchemical in nature. 

Within the winged pair's lair, made of great boughs (presumably harvested from the Shorepines further to the south), we discover'd an intact Hippogryph egg, big but gentle and fragile. We did decide to keep it, in hopes of either finding a good and prop'r merchant, 'r attempting the domestication of the local Hippogryph strain. For that, however, we would require a second egg, and I implore oth'r adventurers reading the report to consider this splendorous opportunity. 

A sketch of the egg, surrounded by branches and grass of the Hippogriffs' nest, is provided, alongside various measurements and illegible notes.

I hath return'd to constructing and reinforcing our camp, before venturing out with Jirel to forage for nourishment. We extract'd what we could from the carcasses of Hippogryphs, and found some clear rainwater in a small cave (which we boil'd to make drinckable) and a pitiful amount of herbs and berries hidden within the nearby vegetation. All of this wast enough for two prop'r meals, which we split between all of us, and expanded with two daily rations provided by Wrynn and Solas. Still, t'was a hearty feast, and a good reward for our previous accomplishment. Solas investigated our immediate surroundings, and found no signs of further danger. Jirel took the first watch; naturally, I proposed to take the later shift, since the limitations of Nigredo holdeth no power over mine very vision. During h'r watch, Jirel fashion'd a bag from spare garments which she hath brought along, to secure and carefully carry the Hippogryph egg. We ensured that t'was kept comfortably warm by the campfire.

This night too wast uneventful as we slumbered under the serene ☽Moon. Its light, however, bore no warmth, and neither did the sunlight of the morn - the biting cold bared its fangs, and we had to wrap ourselves in thicker vestments as we proceeded. In order to refresh mine assortment of destructive alchymical tinctures, I once again brew'd two of each kind available to myself: ⚕Thuribulum morbiferum modestum, 🜂Phiala igni media, and 🜖Potio vitrioli minor. Jirel led us forth, towards the Onyx Tower; at times, it showed its peak from behind the hills and the vegetation, far off into the distance. 

A detailed drawing of such a sight is depicted to the side: a dark sky, an even darker forest that almost seems to sway in the wind, and between them, the darkest colour - the Tower itself. More warning-notes surround it. 

The winds grew strong'r by the minute, and they carried worrisome howls from the Shorepines. Yellow ripen'd to Red, and Red darken'd to Black. While building our new encampment, I employ'd the materials that I hath preserved from our previous stop by the Hippogryph nest. Then, Jirel and myself ventured out to forage, and once again we managed to prepare a nourishing shared meal for everyone by combining two daily rations with the resources that we did discov'r. 

We deduced that the next day would be the last one of this quest, and estimated that we would reach the Tower around noon, 'r shortly aft'r. We decided on the shifts - Jirel took the first one, Seeker Wrynn and his Onyx the second, myself the third, and Solas the last. The fourth night crept up on us with its chilling touches upon our skins, and with its even more chilling, distant howls. T'was an uneventful relief. Be it the long journey so far, 'r the sweet odour of pines across the horizon, 'r perhaps the bitter annoyance of cold, but we all gladly accept'd the embrace of sleep when t'was our time to do so, yet did not succumb to it during our watches.

Capitulum II: Lupi Energiarum

The frozen morn woke mine ☿Mind with its violent winds; we remain'd close to the campfire, and I once again renew'd mine alchymical assortment of ⚕Thuribulum morbiferum modestum, 🜂Phiala igni media, and 🜖Potio vitrioli minor, before departing. While passing through a rocky gorge, I shared mine waterskin with Solas, who wast bereft, and just as we commenced an exchange of stories, we were interrupt'd by the sound of pebbles rolling down the cliff. T'was when we noticed two great wolves stalking us from above, and thus they attack'd us. 

One of them wast red of mane, flame spilling out of its maw and eyes. The other one wast blue; sparks of electricity loped through its pelt and into the ground, magnetising tiny stones and ascending them into the air around the wolf.

We prepared ourselves for a fight with great haste, since we were not caught unawares… 'r so we thought. Despite the strong currents, Jirel successfully pierced Lupus igni with two arrows, but anoth'r pair of beasts approach'd us in the meantime. The first one's coat wast white, its eyes were cold and blue, and a cloud of frost linger'd around its maw. The second one wast green-furred, and acidic humours dripped from its jaws.

The beasts are drawn on the left side of the page, and the text wraps around them. They look exactly the way Cornix describes them.

Frozen Lupus hiberni loped towards Jirel and threw h'r to the ground, but the strong elven kicks kept the pungent maws of Lupus vitrioli at bay. I released an angered cry, and after taking the currents into account, lobbed mine Thuribulum morbiferum at the offenders; thankfully, mine poisons were suitable enough to mix with the green beast's acids, producing a truly hazardous mixture and releasing it into the wolf's 🜔Body; its chilling pack-mate wast also splashed by the Blight.

Meanwhile, stormy Lupus electri push'd Solas off the slope, and join'd the assault on Jirel. Wrynn unleash'd his Onyx, whom he protect'd with his magic wards, upon Lupus hiberni; it responded with its own terrible bites, unfortunately bypassing the wards and bringing the drake down to the ground. Lupus igni descended from its hill, and maul'd Jirel with two fiery bites; she managed to escape, eventually, and retort'd with anoth'r piercing arrow. After getting up, Solas charged at Lupus electri, but it dodged out of the way.

Lupus vitrioli whined in pain as mine poisons continued their assault from within, but still scamper'd behind Onyx, in an attempt to corner him, and tore into the down'd drake. I lobbed anoth'r Thuribulum morbiferum into the pack; the winds were disagreeable, but the blessing of our Lady of Mysteries ensured that the flask still hit the frost beast directly, splashing the poisons all over its adjacent brethren of flame and storm. Bolstered by mine patron's favour, I moved closer to Lupus igni, and deliver'd a blow with mine sharpen'd beak, mighty enough to weaken the beast, but not enough to sever its string of life in twain.

Lupus electri seem'd bent on pursuing me, but in its vengeful folly exposed itself to Solas' attack. Unfortunately, the beast wast nimble enough to avoid this slash, and reach'd me unscathed, finding a breach in mine defenses and pulling myself towards the cold and barren earth, but otherwise not inflicting any grievous wounds.

Seeker Wrynn invoked the divine energies to heal his trusty drake, who stood up and attack'd our bestial foes. Alas, they dodged out of the way. Lupus igni, sensing mine weakness, assaulted me, and this time mine wounds were more worrisome. 

Then, the beast turned its truly fleeting attentions towards the drake, but could do nothing to penetrate his scales. This open'd the flaming wolf to Jirel's masterful arrow-volley, and it skewer'd the monster, smothering the last sparks of its senselessly furious life. 

Lupus hiberni, apparently no longer und'r the influence of mine Blight, and in response to this death, ran towards Jirel, tearing into h'r flesh and pushing her down. Solas came to h'r help as a bringer of anoth'r demise, and the wolf became one with the frozen earth beneathe our feet. The fighter then return'd to mine side, and just in time - Lupus vitrioli loped around the drake with still lingering ache in its step, making myself its new target. The pain was blinding, but I persevered, rising to mine feet. With great haste, I concocted a healing tincture for myself, using an experimental recipe that, unfortunately, did not prove as successful as I hoped it would, and thus I shan't provide it here. 

Lupus electri, seeing mine distraction, return'd myself to the ground with a truly powerful bite. After such a grievously consistent unbalancing of mine humours, I prepar'd myself for the final judgment of our Lady of Graves, and were it not for the potion still coursing through mine veins, I would hath faced it there and then. I cried out for help, and help I wast given; Wrynn direct'd his healing magics at mine 🜔Body, and I could see the most severe wounds closing up afore mine very eyes. Tis not an experience I am used to, and thus t'was a wonder to behold. 

Onyx proceeded to attack Lupus vitrioli in front of him, and it finally succumb'd to poisons within and wounds without. Meanwhile, Jirel rose to h'r feet and pierced Lupus electri with anoth'r arrow. Solas follow'd up with an unsuccessful grapple and a much more successful slash of his sword, dispersing the remaining wolf's violent storms, and ending this fight at last. 

I wast helped to mine feet, and despite the burning pain in mine entire 🜔Body, I prepared myself and mine alchymical tools for the imminent operations, while Solas fetch'd Jirel. For a full 🝮hour, I employ'd unorthodox and experimental techniques, which brought the Elven ranger ever so closer to death's door, only to hurl h'r even farther away from it, bringing h'r to full health. While I work'd, I found the Hippogryph egg intact within the basket that Jirel wast carrying on h'r person. Glory be to our merciful Mother of Souls - t'was spared in the battle!

Solas and Jirel investigated the lupine carcasses, and we deduced that they were not a natural occurrence (not in the Old World, at least), but indeed the alteration of the natural. In a way, they were the manifestations of the Energies, born this way to be employed by some kind of a magic practitioner, such as a wizard. This line of thought wast only reinforced by the memory of our previous encounter with the Hippogryphs. Jirel skinned the wolves, and we brought their wondrous pelts with us. She also found peculiar organs deep within their cadavers, ones that seem'd to produce the relevant Energies. 

Meanwhile, I perform'd the healing operations upon mine own 🜔Body - mine wounds were not as severe as Jirel's, and they only required one of the standard procedures that last'd for anoth'r 🝮hour. Thus, they art not worthy of a detailed explanation.

Capitulum III: Turris Onychis

T'was our conclusion that the Onyx Tower wast the possible abode of the wizard in question, and we continued our journey towards it. Some time during the late afternoon, we reach'd the borders of the Shorepines, and the Tower stood afore us: a monolith of solid marble, black and slightly weathered, that tore into the heavens above, while the eye of its telescope watch'd those same heavens. No noticeable cuts maim'd its surface - tis quite likely anoth'r work of magic. Surprisingly, t'was only a bit more than sixty-five feet tall, despite appearing truly colossal from such a close distance.

Strangely, Jirel could spot rusted nails occasionally embedded into the walls more than five feet above ground, but she saw no traps around the Tower, and thus we approach'd its perfectly intact wooden door. Upon it, we discover'd a magicall, circular pattern that converged around the lock. I recognised it as one of the wards that some occult practitioners of the Old World useth to protect their locks - a rather ingeniously simple spell creatively named 'Lock'. 

Solas did decide to knock upon the door, and he lat'r reveal'd to us that a feeling of nostalgia overcame him in that moment. After a short pause, a feminine voice answer'd his call, and while we couldst not understand it, it did not sound hostile. A couple of us were also visited by a strange feeling, this time that of faint unease - something wast not right about this voice, but we couldst not quite place it. Perhaps, t'was the fact that it appear'd too distant, even when we took into consideration that the door would muffle the sounds.

Jirel attempted to intimidate the voice by slamming the lupine pelts against the door, which seemed to scare our invisible interlocutor. We did persuade her to cease h'r unseemly and unhelpful display of aggression, and after speaking in different tongues, we discover'd that the voice couldst understand Elven.

T'was a nameless maid serving one Lamwen Darr, the Merger, whom she identified as h'r 'Master', and who apparently taught h'r to speak 'his language'. She wanted to know our names, and appear'd to be aware of neither the existence of First Landing (believing the region to be uninhabited), n'r the existence of Tengu, Iruxi, Humans and even Elves, despite knowing the latter tongue. Then, she did proceed to ask us whether we were there for a consultation with h'r Master, and whether we had an existing appointment with him.

I manag'd to convince h'r that we knew Lamwen, and that we indeed travell'd there to hear his advice. Still, she would not let us inside without a bespoken spot within h'r Master's apparently busy schedule, which included all sorts of magicall experiments. When I ask'd about them, she explain'd that the results of these experiments were free to roam the surrounding area, that the wolves were among the lesser creations of h'r Master, and that they must hath attack'd us because of their growing hunger. I suggested that our own hunger wast growing, too, and that the outside frost became more than a bothersome nuisance. Alas, this did not persuade h'r, since h'r Master's orders 'were absolute', so I bespoke an appointment at noon on 'Transmuday' of the following week, five days from then, which she call'd 'Necroday'. I calculated that the shortest route from First Landing to the Tower would take us three days. 

I proceeded to ask the maid about the Elemental Portal Shrine, which is located northeast from the Tower, in hopes of acquiring anoth'r puzzle piece for that particular enigma. However, she did not know that it even existeth, so we bid h'r farewell, and I contemplated the available information. The list that depicteth mine reasoning followeth, Reader.

• The maid wast nameless, and seemingly bound in some way to either the Onyx Tower, 'r its current 'Master'. She wast oddly disconnected from the current state of h'r surroundings.
• Rusted old nails around the Tower were probably a part of some ritual that I could not identify, but they could serve to either contain 'r create something within the Tower.
• As previously stated, the maid's voice did sound distant - she wast either not speaking directly from behind the door, but from another place in some way linked to the first floor, 'r she did not quite belong on the Material Plane of Existence.
• A sense of nostalgia that overcame Solas, and later myself, when we touch'd the door - perhaps from our innate connection to Pharasma, and thus our understanding of death and the Boneyard? 

I concluded that the maid wast one of the Haunts - ghostly entities who refuseth to leave their current place of residence because of something in their lives which remain'd tragically unfulfilled, and thus the emotional impact anchor'd their 🜍Souls within this reality. As a loyal devotee of Pharasma, I felt a strong sense of sacred duty to help this Haunt pass forth, into the Boneyard; as the one who walketh with Dusk, Solas shared this feeling. Wrynn seem'd more interested in simply getting inside the Tower, while Jirel only concern'd h'rself with h'r hunts.

We set up the camp for the night some distance hence from the Tower, and then foraged for supplies. Alas, the land there wast barren and dry, and we could not supplement our daily rations with anything else. After a humble meal, we assign'd the shifts, and one by one fell prey to the enticements of slumber. 

Cold and windy Melancholia pass'd without incidents, moonlit Leukosis dawn'd with renew'd freshness and purity, as it always does, until Xanthosis thrust our waking ☿Minds into the new day. Jirel decided to survey the local wildlife closer to the bounds of the Shorepines, while I brew'd mine alchymical flasks of ⚕Thuribulum morbiferum modestum, 🜂Phiala igni media, and 🜖Potio vitrioli minor, and further expanded this collection with two elixirs of ღMutator cordis draconis, more commonly known as the Drakeheart Mutagen. Upon completion, I search'd around the immediate vicinity of our temporary encampment.

Both Jirel and myself found tracks, but of different kinds - mine belonged to the four Wolves that we hath slain, and Jirel's to a singular, large and clawed beast, both feathered and furred - an Owlbear. She told us that they art known to be territorial and lethal at close range, and that they could probably be yet another experiment of Lamwen Darr. A plan wast proposed: we were to surreptitiously follow the Owlbear's tracks, until they brought us to a water source that the creature usually drincketh from. Thou wilt soon realise, Reader, that this plan wast not followed, in the end.

Wrynn seem'd to consult his divine patron, but the contents and the results of their holy communion remaineth unknown to myself. 

In the meantime, I approach'd the Tower again, where I discover'd that the Haunt of the Maid wast trapped in one specific day - Necroday, apparently - just as I hath fear'd, since she neither recognised mine voice, n'r remember'd the appointment that I hath bespoken (in fact, she offer'd to make one for Transmuday, again). She repeat'd the same things previously described, and some of them I brought up in h'r stead, fruitlessly hoping to provoke a reaction.

I saw the opportunity to ask for food and shelter once again, since for the Haunt, it would hath been the first time. Miraculously, she responded to mine pleas with acceptance, and the enchantments that were etched into the door faded away. I invited Wrynn, Solas and Jirel to step inside the Onyx Tower of the Merger. 

Capitulum IV: Visiones et Apparitiones

The door open'd to a circular room, truly immaculate, with no cobwebs or dust in sight. Lanterns of blue flame, red carpets, a coat rack, a towering mirror, a wooden cylinder which holds staves, walking canes and umbrellas. Portraits of the 'Master' upon the walls; he is an ancient Elf, even for Elven standards, and alongside him art seemingly shown his best creations - a multitude of humanoid-animal hybrids, dressed in maid uniforms; an Owlbear in a large cage; a tiny fox which is coming out of a smoking pipe.

We couldst not see any staircases that would lead upwards, yet the disembodied voice of the Haunt told us that our dinner would be served in anoth'r room upstairs. After looking around, I noticed a counter, whereupon I found a pouch with four Owlbear Claws.

I attempt'd to make further conversation with the Maid, and Jirel call'd out to h'r, but we received no response. I approach'd the mirror, and upon closer inspection discover'd that it show'd a reflection different from what one would expect - the staircase wast behind myself, and thus I memorised its position, and headed towards it.

Stepping onto the stairs reveal'd them to be physicall, and thus I ascended to the second floor, towards the source of a rather distant sound of kiln-clatter, through the ceiling that morph'd into a wooden door afore mine very eyes. I found myself in a cooking area - stoves; shelves with pots, jars, cheese wheels, hams and other delicacies upon them; a wooden broom, alone in a corner next to a small window positioned right under the ceiling; a small table, and four servings already upon it. Blue torch-flame illuminated the surroundings, but the Maid-Haunt wast nowhere in sight. I call'd out once again, but she still would not respond.

We lat'r determined all the comestibles within this room to be mere dust, enchanted by an illusory spell of some sort. These illusions fool'd mine senses to a greater degree than others', but aft'r being informed by Solas… 

… and upon touching the affected items, they did crumble to disappointing dust. T'was when the disembodied voice of the maid inquired whether the meal wast not to mine liking. No desire to provoke 'r insult h'r brew'd within mine heart, and thus I had to resort to pretending that I enjoy'd the offered food. 

Jirel ask'd the maid whether h'r Master had a poor appetite, like many other Elves, which the Haunt confirm'd, explaining that the Merger became this way recently, and that he hath not left the upper rooms for a couple of weeks, thoroughly absorbed by his studies and projects. However, we did determine that not a sound wast coming from further upstairs. I inquired the Maid about h'r current desires, needs, and opinions about h'r services; she reveal'd that h'r only wish wast to serve h'r Master, and that she supposed that h'r work wast satisfactory, though not commented on by the Merger in a long time. All of this reinforced the previous hypothesis that this Lamwen Darr wast, in fact, either deceased, or also some kind of apparition.

Mine subsequent attempts to persuade the maid to investigate h'r Master's chambers, in case he needed h'r help in some shape or form, proved to be unsuccessful. T'was then that I paid closer attention to the aforementioned broom in the corner, which wast remarkably preserved, and which sent an odd sensation down mine plumage. Still I touched its handle, and mine ☿Mind wast immediately beset by a parade of visions. 

I witnessed a white, hirsute hand which held this broom to clean the Tower's interiors; then the cup of tea that this hand hath just prepared, as it wast touching the Master's lips, before they curl'd up into a satisfied smile. 

I witnessed the tombs of the Sisters; the Horrors und'r the Tower, where the failed experiments would go to rest and ferment, feast and wither away. 

I witnessed the Master growing thinner, older, the bags und'r his eyes hanging lower. He issued his last command: 'Doth not disturb myself until mine work is done, and doth not access the upper rooms until I returneth'. I wait'd for a long while, before a flash of black light overtook myself. Upon awakening, I found a lifeless 🜔Body upon the floor. Something human, something leporine - a hybrid, just like myself. T'was another one of the failed experiments, and thus I grabbed the broom… only, verily, I couldst not. I concentrated; after all, I had to prepare the room for mine Master's return.

I witnessed the broom… changing, and I grasp'd it, to sluice the lifeless 🜔Body of anoth'r failed rabbit-maid down the waste-chute in the kitchens, the one that led into the basement below. She wouldst remain there as nourishment for the Master's experiments, until she wouldst not remain at all. And then, I waited, and waited, and waited...

The bells of the Boneyard did not bellow for the nameless maid, but t'was in this moment that I heard their sound once, twice, so familiar yet so distant and unnerving, and I knew that they were still not for the Haunt - they were for myself. Mine heart grew heavy as if filled with saturnine profanity of ♄Lead, and mine final death wast one step clos'r, and anoth'r. An abject sense of doom settled within mine bones, ringing and reverberating, and the visions ceased. 

I stumbled away from the broom, finding support upon a chair, and it took me a great deal of concentration to cleanse mine ☿Mind of these frightening impurities. Mine Grey Lady show'd me these images with a grand purpose at heart, I am certain of that now, but in that moment of weakness, I called out to h'r in confused and disheartened desperation - hath I not served h'r well? Were I indeed not destined for a greater potential of 🜔Body, of 🜍Soul, of ☿Mind? 

Having collect'd mine thoughts at last, I told others about mine visions, and show'd them where the chute wast located. Solas noticed mine lingering affliction, and assured myself that he would investigate the passage himself. Meanwhile, I proposed the potential existence of anoth'r way into the basement, and Jirel sought it out. Under the carpets, she discover'd a trapdoor, with another Lock ♅ sigil upon it.

I search'd both floors, but mine eyes could not find the keys, so I produced a crowbar from mine backpack, and offer'd it to Solas and Jirel, who art much stronger than I am. T'was when Seeker Wrynn commun'd with his divine patron again, and seemingly received the temporary blessing of dispelling magic. The Lock ♅ sigil did fade away in that instant, which made the task of prying the trapdoor open much easier. 

With the passage unsealed, Jirel did descend into the dark, hoping to scout ahead of us und'r the guise of stealth and shadows. I offer'd both of mine potions of ღMutator cordis draconis, which were accepted by Solas and Wrynn, and then brew'd anoth'r one for myself. Upon h'r return, Jirel reveal'd to us that there wast no monster in sight; however, she did discov'r old bones; vestments of a maid, torn to pieces; and a lockbox.

We readied ourselves for the potentially upcoming battle, and ventured down into the dreadful and deep bowels of the Onyx Tower.

I repeateth, Reader, once again - bewareth. 

Capitulum V: Horrores indu umbris

Confusions and impurities of Nigredo that fermented in this dungeon held no sway ov'r mine vision, of course, n'r did they affect Jirel, but oth'rs needed a spark of Light to banish the Shadow, so Seeker Wrynn provided it by infusing his holy idol with bright magic. We couldst all sense that something wast coming for us, but still we couldst not perceive it around us. I readied mine 🜂Phiala igni, and raised mine trusty buckler in case I wast the target of this unseen assault. Jirel prepared h'r own arrow-shots, Solas discarded his shield, intending to grapple anything that would appear in his sight, and Wrynn also hid behind his buckler, and spoke to Onyx in the tongue of Iruxi.

The monster finally reveal'd itself - a leonine not-quite-corpse, clad in tattered and grey skin, its eyes of the unnaturally green hue. Two additional heads were affixed to its neck, one of a red dragon, the other one of a goat. Scaled wings moved the creature through the stale air towards us, and thus we reacted; from such a distance, mine fiery flask only grazed the beast, but two of Jirel's arrows pierced it truly, while two more were reflected by the scales. I grasp'd another flask from mine satchels, waiting to lob it at the monster the moment it moved closer to us.

Everything after this moment is but a misty rift in mine memories. I wast told, at a later date, that Wrynn placed his wards on Onyx, and sent him after the monstrosity, but its dragon-head caught the drake by surprise and pierced his weakest spot with a singular bite of its jaws, bringing him to the dire precipice of death. Solas threw himself between the beast, Wrynn, and myself, in order to protect us, but it took flight and cover'd the three of us in dreadful flames. This is when I ceased. 

Yes, O Reader, the thread of mine life wast severed in that dungeon. Much of the remaining report is not mine direct account, for obvious reasons, but instead information that I gather'd from oth'rs long after the Quest wast over, and compiled here.

Aft'r the fiery breath of the beast, Solas and Wrynn were still alive, but the latter wast badly wounded and unconscious; the fighter activated Iruxi's Recaller and sent him back to First Landing. Meanwhile, Jirel distracted the monster from afar with h'r arrows, so it turned its attention to h'r. She fled, but the beast caught up with no issues, and slammed into h'r, pushing h'r into the narrow hallway that led back to the kitchens, and getting its own horns temporarily stuck. Solas used this opportunity to also return to the Portal, and Jirel escaped the dungeons, sealing the passage shut with heavy objects and leaving a warning message nearby. She exchanged some parting words with the Maid-Haunt, and returned to First Landing using h'r own Recaller. 

To mine knowledge, both Solas Arais and Seeker Wrynn recover'd from their injuries, but chose to return to the Old World. The former's reasoning remains a mystery to myself (perhaps Pharasma chose a different path for him?), while the latter probably could not bear the death of his dear companion, Onyx the Drake, who wast unfortunately abandoned in the dungeons, and who wast by now surely consumed by the winged, scaled, multi-headed horror that festereth there. 

This wast the story of our Quest, equally disastrous and successful. I prayeth that the information presented here proveth to be of use to other Adventurers, and that valuable lessons wilt be taken to heart. The Onyx Tower of the Merger remaineth an unresolved mystery, and it hath already claim'd one life and endanger'd four more. Thou shouldst employ utmost caution if thou decideth to continue the work that we started there. 

Blessings of our Lady of Mysteries upon thine eternall 🜍Soul, O Reader, and mayst the glorious ⚙Sunne illuminate thy path forevermore. 

- 𝕮𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖝 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖗