Egh! So glad my mentor saw fit to give me this self-scribing journal, it would be a real pain to make proper updates in situations like this otherwise. It seems I have gotten myself into a bit of problem, again. I am currently being force-marched back to what may only be described as a “town” in the loosest sense of the word by hostile inhabitants. Ah, getting ahead of myself again; the mentor wants a solid account of my adventures and studies for reference in his Librarium and I must do better than that. Now, to relating how I got here.
I was busily working on my thunder magic in a field in the middle of thunderstorm, wearing my traditional copper research suit with 10 meter iron pole (it really helps me get a better grasp on Gramp’s elements). I saw lightning hit a tree not too far off and observed one of the rocks at the base fly high into the air. I ran after it and managed to acquire the flying rock, hoping some residual elemental energies would remain. Sadly no remnants remained, but I was inspired: if the storms come from the heavens then I should journey to the heavens to meet them on their home ground. After some minor contrivances I managed to construct an arcane shortcut to blast myself heavenward. The spell worked better than expected and I was launched skyward. After being struck by no less than 47 separate bolts of lightning I felt a new surge in my arcanosphere and followed that impulse, releasing the pent up elemental energies in one massive blast, sending myself flying.
It seems that I managed to blast a hole in the planar fabric, a fact I was woefully unaware of before my rapid descent to the ground of what I, at the time, believed to simply be some extremely dark land. Upon landing I found myself with the pleasant surprise of company: a dragonborn, halfling, two eladrin, and two elves. Several of these newcomers seemed rather the worse for wear with the others being relatively unscathed. Given this discrepancy I immediately assumed that they had some sort of similar mishap and I had found explosion buddies! Sadly, this was not so…
The aforementioned residents of whatever demiplane I’ve landed on began to appear from their settlement, looking both worried and confused. They immediately ran back inside and reappeared wielding various weapons (or at least something pointy and dangerous). They demanded to know where we had come from and why we were not in a circle of stones to the left. I quickly analyzed the circle and determined it to be a one-way portal leading to this place. I introduced myself and gave a quick explanation of how I got here, being far more interested in studying some interesting arcane phenomenon around the portal. The fellows, who apparently arrived at the same time I had, gave quick introductions and explained something about a deity snafuing a spell. Their situation sounded rather intriguing and demanded investigation, so I made to join their group. The villagers indicated that they had a library with a rather large repository if information in it, but that they could not read much of it. Given my linguistic proclivities I announced that I would like to attempt a translation and study of these tomes. Given the chance, I should like to collect as many as I can before my escape from this place in order to properly catalog and preserve any useful texts.
Unfortunately my new traveling companions unconscious friends were rather badly injured and needed help. My apothecary skills being insufficient and unreliable in an environment like this, the natives offered to assist us if we could acquire the necessary reagents for their healing salves. It appears that the surrounding area had been picked clean, but then a runner announced that some territory had been retaken from the darkness. The way they personified the darkness made little sense at the time, but I would soon gain a greater understanding of the nature of this place. We set out to try and gather the necessary herbs with all haste until a sudden upheaval of the ground, the separation of the group by a wall, and the appearance of several shadowy form interrupted our progress. We spent some time attempting to vanquish these fiends until they arranged themselves in a tight enough area for me to utilize one of my larger spells. I used one which would not only give my partner in this box a reasonable advantage versus the remainder but allow me to check on the progress of the others. As a side-effect it knocked the shadows through the walls, dispersing whatever illusions held us captive. I immediately hailed my plan as a success despite my lack of a coherent landing option. The large dragonborn was kind enough to facilitate a mostly safe landing.
After the attack we continued on and I was left to ponder the psychological ramifications of such an attack and how such a torment would inevitably break anyone left out here long enough. That’s when a shot at salvation and the cause of my current sticky wicket appeared. We came across a disheveled female shifter scrounging about on the ground for something, muttering incoherently to herself. She quickly began to beg us for help in locating her “amulet” which had a bad habit of running away; as we all know amulets cannot run so I assumed she was probably a bit insane. Then I saw it: a strange, shadowy feline form that positively hummed with planar resonance to this place. She leapt for it declaring this to be her amulet, and I was glad she had it and believed that perhaps she would allow me study it in return for some small aid. She then continued to cast about looking for random bits of jewelry while alternating back and forth between begging for help and warnings about some encroaching doom. I assumed the poor thing was cracked in the head, for who cares for baubles when there is some impending doom? The odds of reasoning with the insane are low so I resolved to take the cat by force and leave her to her fate: a cruel act maybe but what is one mad soul weighed against the salvation of all these people and ensuring that no one will ever be sent here again? I used my prismatic sphere, knowing that whatever fate chose it would disable her long enough to get the bag; when she resisted I launched a forceful blast of thunder against her and that got her to drop the bag. With the aid of the halfling I managed to get the cat safely inside my bag of holding. Then the raiding party showed up.
Yes, it appears that the runner was a harbinger of this raiding party who had “Retaken some land from the shadow.” Hmph, they did a poor job of holding it seeing as how they were in full retreat. They apparently knew the shifter and the shifter is apparently someone of import. Now we are caught back up, with me being marched back to face whatever passes for justice down here.
It matters not, I will shoulder the blame and try and exonerate these others from their involvement. I will also try to make my case before whomever will listen: I need the cat, I have the rock, I need to access their library, and the use of a stone cup or bowl.
I have a plan…