Notes on Orb Conversation and Hubris
Once more a cruel god of arcane mischief smiles upon my deeds. Behind the large double door we once feared containing evil doers we instead found orbs. I should have known they would be speaking elvish, as they were left behind by an ancient (and likely dead) elven mage. I believe that the tunnels below here may connect to the rumored lost elven empire which once dotted these lands, though little else of its remnants have been found. Furthermore inside we discovered the magical loot of dead fortune seekers including a talking sword, and magical scrolls from a deceased cleric. Far more important than the items however was the information the orbs were all too quick to deliver. Apparently the lich which has haunted us on journeys before has more than once tried to claim the orbs “tome of forbidden knowledge” which they guard, most interestingly a few times while still flesh and blood. Perhaps this hubris could be wielded against the lich? And perhaps our own will prove fortuitous?
With this new found information I began devising a plan in my mind. We must find a way to goade the barbaric lich into challenging the orbs once more. It has so far failed but perhaps there is a way we can convince it to press its luck. Or perhaps more nefariously, we can find its rumored “phylactery” of which I have heard lich possesses and place it in the guardianship of the orbs. Then the lich would be forced to fight for its lifeblood. Regardless of how we set the trap we would wait until the climax of the battle and charge in. This way we could both take out the lich, and the cursed orbs to claim their forbidden book. A tome heist of epic proportions, the spellbook of a necromancer supreme and the forbidden tome of some dead elf wizard! Just the prospect of the bounty has my heart racing. At this point I could care less what was in the damn tome, the challenge of guardianship is enough to excite the mind. I must have it. I find myself thinking back on my dream of the elf, it's warning of ambition. I think I have discovered the solution. It is not that the Elf fell into the well that claimed its life, but that it did not drink deeper once in.
In our Journey we also stumbled on a band of spiders, the size of hounds. They were taken quickly at the end of our arrows and pole arms but the idea of those eight legged basterds springing up behind us makes my skin crawl. What other horrors does this keep hold? This question I did not ponder long as after the encounter with the orbs we discovered a long tunnel with at least a dozen skeletons waiting in the darkness. Our cleric proved…..less than apt at dispelling them but we were able to run away nonetheless. Still a strange magic bolt of purple arcana flew out of the darkness and struck Hats with a violent blast. Could the lich really be cowering in a dark cave full of the undead? Or are there more magic users here than we presumed? Upon fleeing from the skeletons we were accosted by feline sharpshooters in the darkness. Though with quick wits of our accompanying magic user were able to distract two of them the third fired an arrow directly at our poor thief. I feigned leaping in the way to catch the arrow on my shield, but I fear that if the party knew the real reason I saved him they would not be so gracious. I need the thief, because I need that damned book.