The Age of Lost Omens

The Void Callers

From the journal of Gundarin

Toilday, 25th of Neth, 4714 AR

It was a long trek, and the cart has certainly seen better days, but I had finally arrived. I spent the better part of a day selling what goods I brought with me, some ill-gotten items that were easier to sell far away from where they were procured, and restocked for the return journey. I bed down for the night at one of the local taverns, after partaking in more than a little of their house brew.

The next morning, I arrived at the place mentioned in mother’s letter. It was a depressing place, clearly only there to make failing hearts and bodies more comfortable as death approached. I had tried to prepare myself for facing my father after all these years, but I could not prepare myself for seeing him in that state. Our once proud and determined sire had been reduced to a spectre of his former self. It pained me to see him this way, despite our past disagreements.

Garrek was there when I arrived! I didn’t think he had it in him, but he set out into the world shortly after I did, and got into as much trouble if not more than even I. Galen arrived as we were busy sharing stories of our respective travels, oddly in chains. Our perfect elder brother getting into trouble with the law… I could scarcely believe it.

Gwernach, Gurren and Geril all arrived shortly thereafter. Perhaps the only one who hadn’t changed at all was Gwernach, awkward and quiet as ever. Gurren had picked up a few habits, and perhaps even a bit of an accent after all his time spent in the east. Geril seemed to have been hardened by living in Cheliax all these years… I can only imagine what horrors she may have endured to change her so.

Mother finally arrived after all of us siblings had become reaquainted after all these decades. It was obvious that time and grief weighed heavily upon her. We offered what assistance we could. Father passed that night, and the next morning we were given his last will and testament by his caregiver. It was clear that he had been experiencing dementia near the end, as his words were out of place and time. There was little of interest, as most of our possessions had been stripped by the other clans, except for one item. A letter from someone called Marion, asking for aid with a particular problem. Enclosed was a spell for teleporting us to the requested location.

What followed after was something of a waking nightmare. We investigated a hive, for lack of a better word, of giant spider-like creatures. It wasn’t that I had not faced arachnids of unusual size before. These were just… wrong, somehow. After defeating them, we learned through unsettling means that there were more, much more, and that they were once the cause of a great war that took place hundreds of years ago. Something must be done to stop them from returning, or there won’t be a world left.


OceansEnd Drikanis

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