Gardain's steady gaze unnerves you, there is something hidden behind them... something dark.
They are lost,all lost. Buried in mother earth, deep below. Not deep enough to keep the carrion crawlers from finding them. Not in ensorcelled granite like the family crypts. Not even deep enough to keep the dirty kobolds from finding them if they tried.
Beautiful Zatrina, clever healer.
Stalwart Yeletris, helpful swordmage.
Nimble Nehel, acrobatic trickster.
All my fault.
I should have smelled the kobolds sooner.
I should have noticed the sapped supports.
I should have called out sooner, warned them, saved them…
But I was too late. The dirty kobold trap almost got me too. I lay for a tenday, broken and weak until my dead father came to me in a dream and urged me to get up, to move, to find the exit. I crawled for five more days. My legs useless, crushed. My right arm broken in two places. Two ribs broken. My left eye swollen shut.
I should have died. Moradin should have taken me. But my damnable father’s ghost says I have unfinished business. Months of healing, months more before I can swing the sword and hold the shield. But I practice, I improve, I wait…
for a chance to avenge them.