Our day began much as they always do, seeing to the needs and the issues within our camp of ragtag followers and soldiers.
The famed Silver General has taken it upon herself to begin training the random followers that Maric had managed to scrounge up while in Ustalav. Dath, once again warned us of a potential attack or raid by the foul Void Callers. While Lotur had discovered some kind of plot to tamper with our water supplies. Wells had been poisoned, though we have no suspect or motive, the poison did not kill anyone, merely made them sick for several days.
Yonderhoff again has failed to deliver. Now, the caravans that we finally convinced them to fully supply are being raided by bandits and orcs. We decided to send in Ranti and the Deathdealers to weed out and destroy the raiders.
Dwarven bounty hunters came for our brother. The story of the impending doom, the fate of the world balanced on a knife edge did not sway their greediness and pettiness. Dath dealt with several of their members swiftly, and we conscripted the rest into our army.
With that resolved, we decided to take Yarric and his men without to seize Fortress Gundrikson, a long-forgotten family fortress from ages past when the Gundrikson’s were at the height of their glory. We trudged through the orc infested lands, collecting scales needed to unlock an ancient door entering into the rear of the fortress.
We charged in Yarric’s men seizing stragetic points and chokepoints in the Fortress while we assaulted the throneroom, slaying Murderfist, his bodyguard and some kind of demonic adviser or controller. We took the ancient dwarven arms and armor, taking what we needed to better outfit our men and set off, back towards the cursed Valley of the Void Callers.
I can’t help but feel that this whole situation is coming to a head. The tension at the keep could be cut with a knife. The final fight is coming, I can feel it.