The Severed Hand

As Zenithral tries to magically clean away the tar from Alalla's clothes and armor, it suddenly bubbles. In a sudden mass it surges toward Ug and tries to envelope him, but the goliath's razor sharp senses warn him and he ducks back barely in time.

The tar collapses to the floor in a puddle, then tries to squirm away.

While it's hard to tell exactly how they are wounding the creature - whatever it is - when the party is finished all that remains of the ooze is a black smear on the ground.

With the way before them clear, the companions proceed through the arboretum and to the stairway leading up.

The next floor of the tower appears to be more living quarters. Unlike the rooms below, these are much more personalized and comfortable, suggesting that perhaps elves of more means once occupied them.

The heroes proceed carefully, wary of whatever horrors may lurk here. Still, nothing appears to threaten them. After some short investigation of the rooms, they find an old book in a dusty drawer - the same book they saw in Kaylessa's psychic manifestation. The diary of Evayne, daughter of Larrel.

A quick perusal of the book shows that many of the pages are faded nearly unto dust, but there are some parts still legible it seems to be a history of Evayne's dealing with the dwarves of Dorn's Deep.

Written in beautiful, flowing Elvish, a passage near the beginning reads:

...contrary to popular belief, our Dwarven friends do not exist on a diet of rocks and dirt. I was recently invited to visit their wonderful stronghold, Dorn's Deep.

In this architectural wonder, hidden away in one of the most beautiful forests in the North, I entered figuring to be covered in soot from some filthy underground mine unbefitting a High Elf of my stature. Much to my surprise, my eyes were instead treated to amazing works of beauty and craftsmanship.

Our Dwarven friends proceeded to take me on a tour, pointing out each piece in thorough detail. I smiled, impressed that one of the lesser races had such talent in them to create such works. Of course, they paled in comparison to what our Elven artisan's can do, but this was not the time to point out their flaws...

This followed by more faded commentary on getting to know the bearded folk. The diary ends with this:

...so it has come to this. The orc and goblin forces grow stronger with each victory. Where they attained the weapons of the alliance is still a mystery, but I believe in my heart that it was not through the dwarves. We have succeeded in stifling their advances but it wont hold for long. We have taken severe casualties and our forces are dwindling rapidly.

Negotiations are over with our former friends. We are now in open conflict with them. As much as I love my father, I blame him for this. Ever since we found the weapons in the horde's possession, father has been completely irrational. Any discussions had with our former friends ended in bitter accusations and resentment. He adamantly believes that the dwarves betrayed us and listens to nothing they have to say in their defense.

Am I the only one who sees that both sides are going to die horribly if this continues? Father does not see reason in putting aside hostilities with the dwarves so that we may unite against our common enemy. I spoke to him of going Dorn's Deep to approach our old friends. He lashed out at me in anger and sent me out of the astrolabe.

I now make preparations to leave home and ride to Dorn's Deep myself. Arannis, my dear friend, has offered to accompany me. I know it pains him to leave at this time, but reaching the dwarven stronghold without help will likely be impossible at this point. I know in my heart what must be done and this is the only way. Perhaps I have more of my father's stubbornness than I thought.

Diary acquired, the party returns back the way they came. Oddly, when they pass again through the arboretum, they find that the corrupted hippogriff corpses look different. Where their faces once sported tentacles, now there are only slimy, gaping wounds. The tentacles couldn't have... crawled off on their own?

Continuing on quickly, they proceed past Sehriya's room. Her chants of "Mother always comes back!" are enough to keep them moving down to the Palm.

The grand chamber where they fought Kaylessa is caked with black dust now, rather than slime. With speed as their goal, the companions continue on to the staircase marked by a setting sun - the same symbol scrawled by Lathelas on one of the lower floors. The tower of Labelas Enoreth, the Sage at Sunset.

Weapons at the ready, and nerves frayed, the heroes climb the stairs.

The first floor they come to is a sprawling, multileveled library. A withered elf dressed in wizard's robes stands on an upper balcony carrying several books. Upon the party's arrival, he looks them over with bored disinterest before carefully shelving one of his books.

There is yet another staircase leading up not far away.