A foul wind descends from the north. From the glassworks. Death, tinged with the ancient of the ocean air. The cinnamon of magic caught only sporadically. Something yet remains down that tunnel beneath where we found the half-elf and the human and the goblins and the corpses. A change. The wind blows west now, only for a moment, hinting at stirrings deeper in Varisia. All is connected. We will find darkness and horrors when we travel with the elf into the woods. These three are critical to events here. They must not perish until their time is done. I must keep their souls anchored here or the world may be lost.
Yet the sun shines hopeful. The clouds form shapes and hint at what is to come and before and what exists elsewhere in the world. Somewhere the dragonwasp still flies.
Darkness. A pair of snakes entwined. A stone. Light again. Terror and confusion.
This is not part of what unfolds. It is separate and yet connected. Entwined in the pattern. How do these pieces fit? I have forgotten too much in confinement. Left too much of myself in that room. Memory and strength return, but slowly and with effort. What happened when the dwarf killed me? Things have shifted and I cannot see my way through this skein. What did they do to me?
We must discover what lies beneath this town. Perhaps more pieces will come to light. Will I stay this way forever? I did not choose this. Everything is connected.