The Family

Kutok's Journal

We traveled along the Road of Shadows, eventually coming to the iron portcullis guarded by the orcs I last wrote about. The door that we gained access to behind the portcullis opened into a warren of barracks, dining halls, and storage rooms.

A host of duergar and orcs attempted to impede our progress—the anvil master equally deriding them and urging them to kill us. They were no match for our surface weapons.

In an occupied dining hall we met a strange foe, a dwarf who grew four sizes when he was bloodied in battle. Fortunately the fact they were bloodied already meant they didn’t get to swing their oversized hammers, Merroc is good that way.

The duergar had taken hostages from a nearby town called Fall Crest, about a half day to the west of Thunderspire. We agreed to let the hostages stick with us for their safety, and Merroc said we would probably get better prices for our loot if we took it to Fall Crest to sell it.

So away we went. We’ll be back tomorrow, the only reason we are leaving is that all this stuff is heavy!

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