Aedelmar – Personal Log.
It had been a long and arduous journey. The campfire we lit each night was only enough to melt the snow and ice that had gathered on my robes—not enough to dry it. Rations were as low as the morale of my travelling companions.
Our destination was Bryn Shandar,. My destination—somewhere in the Icewind Dale. I’ve traced the rune on Aethelred’s artifact to this locale. I don’t yet understand the meaning of the carving…but I will. I’ve become attached to this mysterious piece of stone. Sandstone, I think. During the frigid nights I find myself imagining who carved it, how long ago it was made, what its use was—and why it was found at the last place my mentor was seen. I’m not sure how, but it seems to be able to aid in my studies. Every night as I pour over my lessons in my spell book, the stone seems to respond to my thoughts. So much so that I’ve come to use it as an aid in my spell casting. It’s become sort of a focusing point for my thoughts. I only hope this isn’t the last revelation the stone has to offer. It is my only lead to discover the fate of my master.
Along the way, I’ve come to know a few of the unfortunate souls who have signed up for this frigid trek. There’s a Paladin and a Cleric who have become more than acquaintances. Neither seem too bright (I’ve saved their hides more than once) but they seem somewhat capable in battle and leave me to my studies. One human and the other a dwarf. While they aren’t the worst I’ve come across, the constant preaching from the Cleric about his god is almost more than I can take. At least he can swing a weapon—sometimes.
Late in the journey—probably five or so days out from Bryn Shandar, our caravan was raided by goblins. Tasked to retrieve the cargo, the three of us followed the trail of dropped trinkets to a small opening in the icy mountain not far from the trade road. We had not been in the cave more than two minutes before the Paladin walked right into one of those foul beasts (I said they weren’t smart). What followed was almost the end of that damned Cleric. Surrounded by three goblins, he took multiple blows—only saved by my efforts using spells channeled through my runestone.
After dispatching three of the theifs, we followed the last one deeper into the cavern. Crossing a fast-moving, subterranean creek, we found our cargo strewn about in a large opening at the end of the cave. We also found four remaining goblins who had no intention of returning it to its rightful owners.
The Paladin (stupidly) charged into the room, narrowly avoiding a hidden pit that surely would have killed the fool. Then proceeded to get hit by numerous strikes and arrows almost taking him to the great Paladin-Club-in-the-Sky. Thankfully, I again conjured enough arcane flames and distractions to defeat the filthy beasts and retrieve our belongings.
I’ve become tired of this journey. I want only to learn the meaning of this damned stone—and its connection to my teacher. However, I may have found a few who might be able to aid me in my quest. Both the Paladin and the Cleric have their uses—and if more present themselves to be useful, I’ll add them to my collection. My path may wander, and I may have to make a detour or two along the way, but the destination is clear. Find out what happened to Aethelred.