The Journal of Koril Benshay Part III

The Banks of the Lake of Red Tears - Forlorn - Sunset, Early Spring 773 B.C.

Spring 773 – Castle Forlorn

             Sir Tristen Hiregaard of Nova Vaasa and, as of the night before last, Tristen Apblanc of Forlorn are now both nothing more than parts of the history of this world.

          Dorian and I have now retrieved the curved crystal daggers of their essences. 

             All that remained to do in this southern region was to recover the gem from the lake.

                Upon emerging from that stagnant moss-covered lake with the ruby, Dorian insisted we immediately return north for the witches and Drakov before making our way back to Avernus to complete the ritual.

               But it was here that I had enough.  That disgusting nosferatu kept his secret for long enough . . . if this shiny unenchanted rock from the sludge at the basin of that pond is so important - - why? - - how?  I demanded an answer from the sniveling wretch.

               His refusal left me no choice but to remind him of the fate he suffered on the last occasion he defied me as I stared at the staples in his throat . . . his brazen defiance was unmatched, claiming it was Erathos and not myself that compromised him last . . .

               Our melee brought us to a struggle in the mud beside the lake before he relented . . . “pay the Ferryman! . . . pay the Ferryman . . .”  He shouted these words in submission. 

        “That’s all you get . . . now, release me dog” he gasped under my submission.

                 I allowed him the dignity to rise from the mud after this revelation.

                 I thought about his words, but they held little meaning for me . . .

                We left the lake and the southern region without further words.  We’d make our way north to Tepest . . . the Village of Brigdarrow to dispatch the hags before journeying through the Fracture into the Shadow Rift and from there, on to Falkovnia, destroy Drakov and return to Avernus.

         It wasn’t until we arrived at Wytchwood in Tepest . . . just outside Brigdarrow that we discovered one of the daggers was lost - - dropped in the mud near the lake during our skirmish . . .

 ~ Koril Benshay – Vampire of the Mists

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The Final Journal of Koril Benshay

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The Song of Alhuanna