Letter #7: "Haunters in the Dark"

Updated: May 22

Dear Maria,


I must start this letter off by disclosing that quite some portion of this entry has been written with some creative liberty. For I was not present, aware, or able to view in its entirety the events that unfolded and have been writ hereafter.

After our encounter with the ogres, having almost lost two of our numbers, and freeing from a cramped and morbid imprisonment an elven cleric captured by the very same drow that now sat caged like she had; the loveable scamp Milford Brixton, our giant and melee expert Adrik Fogdar, the intelligent yet jittery Master Leith Mystralath, our escort and cruel jab maker Hamir, the aforementioned divine cleric Gudael Dala Talandaran, and the corpulent and sluggish Edryn Montkoff – yours truly – hunkered down for a good long slumber – for those of us who needed it – and rested.

Leith, in his meditative state, stood watch over your group. Gudael sought her equipment – her arms and rations.

During Madame Talandaran’s search for her personal effects – which she did indeed recover from a hidey-hole – she found a small chest. It took Brixton going ogre over and assisting with his dexterousness before the chest could be released from its nook. Leith identified the script on this box to be in elvish, and warned of an explosion – some glyph of warding - that, should the box be opened without it’s correct key or be tampered with in anyway, it would explode.

The key might, predictably, be with the drow, as it seemed to be one of their items the ogres had stashed away. The three waited till – for lack of a better word – morning for Adrik to address the drow to find a potential way into the chest.

Brixton tried his own hand at conversing with the drow in the meantime, to the same result as Leith had encountered the day earlier.

Adrik, finally roused from his sleep by the combination of movement