Letters to Father Mall of Kelemvor's Rock

[brian333]

As I write sit again among the mountains of my home. I have to look to find the scars of that dread event that lead me on this path, but I do not regret my decision. I would thank you, Father Mall, for your guidance and training, without which my recent journey would have failed.

The journey by caravan to Isinhold was uneventful. Upon arrival I learned of two ruins of ancient origin.

The first I visited was once a fortress, now reduced by time to a rather large, overgrown pile of building stone, which the folk of Isinhold have used in the construction of their village. Within the rubble tunnels to the former basements allowed some exploration, but aside from some strange, demented creatures, there was little sign of undead activity.

Within the second ruin there were many undead. The entrance to this place is guarded by the Isinhold Militia, and some priest at some point in time placed a powerful ward on it's entrance which appears to be fading. I cannot fathom the purpose of the ward, other than, perhaps, a means to keep the wandering dead inside?

These catacombs certainly date from the time of the fortress previously mentiones, and possibly pre-date it, no matter that they are in better condition. Something has aroused the elven sleepers as well as the many human aroused to wander as mindless undead. Some of the elven skeletons retained the ability to defend themselves with magical spells.

Near a stair going down I encountered a foul priest changed into a horror of undeath. I destroyed the flesh-eater, but looking around I felt it was time to go back to the surface. I intend to go back and find the source of the disturbance that keeps the dead in Isinhold from their slumber.

On the way back I walked without the company of a caravan and was able to discover a new series of trails into the west of southern Bramblewood. I was beset by bandits who guard these new trails. Travelers beware and be prepared.

Sister Genie Mirnimin

[brian333]

Dear Father Mall,

I hope this missive finds you in good health. I write from Isinhold in a rather dreary and moldy place called The Regal Griffin which recommends itself only because it is the only lodging house in the village.

In the past days I have encountered a servant of The Vaunted acting openly and with cohorts within the town of Isinhold. This rather large individual claimed the title of "The Bone Knight" and was dressed from head to toe in heavy layers of cloth all of black save for a gold hexagonal medallion bearing the Lich Head symbol at his throat.

His cohort was one who answered to the name Rodan when called by others who passed by. He was also dressed in black, though in finer clothing apparently intended to appeal to his personal vanity.

My investigation into the Crypts has progressed somewhat more slowly than I'd hoped oweing to my inability to properly channel Kelemvor's power against the undead which wander there. I pray for Devine guidance as I continue to perform as I was taught.

Sister Genie Mirniman

[brian333]

Dear Father Mall,

I write this note in Isinhold, but I expect to deliver it by hand soon. I hope to spend some time with you discussing what I have seen and learned since last we spoke.

I also have in my posession a diary of sorts, written by a child tormented beyond any hope of recovery, forced to exist in the darkness of the catacombs among undead of hideous appearance and power. This child, isolated and alone, created toys of the bones of the dead which he or another animated into a horrid semblance of life.

I have seen many followers of The Vaunted, or at the least, many who have no qualms about being seen with an openly practicing priestess who bears his symbol. For now I note their appearance and any other information I can learn of them, but it galls me to stand aside and do nothing while such persons are free to practice arts which should appall all rational beings.

But, as per your instruction, I work strictly within the law of the land, and the Western Reaches isn't Skull Crag, as you so often reminded me.

Good health until we meet again,

Sister Genie Mirniman