Kingdom of Isles

Palomar Exhorts Din'Dae

Upon Palomar and Enoreth’s reunion with their allies, Palomar viewed the curse that weighed heavily upon Din’dae and regretted even more the escape of the villain Celia. Nevertheless, he spoke to his elven companion of hope, faith, and the will of the gods borne out through mortal hands.

Though I am but a mortal man, know that my words are inspired. This does not speak to any greatness on my part, but that the gods, having chosen to remain in the heavens, consider it no mere thing what fate befalls us, their children. They care enough about us to speak to us, to guide us, and to make miraculous intercessions through mortal hands such as mine.

By this evidence we know them. But what of when evil befalls us, sorrow reigns supreme, and all seems lost? Have the gods abandoned us or become powerless? No. We as mortals have freewill to choose faith or despair, good or evil, order or chaos and events bear those choices out. But when the will of the Sovereign Host is inscrutable remember that faith is the proof of things unseen, that we can know that all things work together for good to them that place their faith in them.


Din’dae, though we come from different cultures, do not think our faith is not the same, for Gremmen is one of the Host and we revere him as well. It is written that when Gremmen fought the beasts of The Void in the Forge of Creation he too was disfigured and then even appeared to fall. And when his enemies thought him done he arose empowered and crushed them. Gremmen works towards balance through change, ensuring that after every winter comes the spring. It may now seem winter to you, but have faith that spring shall come, my friend… Spring shall come!

Din'dae's Journal 6 - A Nightmare Lifted, A Curse Endured

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We moved quickly to the coast with a sense of urgency and encountered a twisted Harpy that seemed set to delay us. Its screeching sound seemed to enchant my comrade in arms, but nothing shall stop my blades from spilling Celia’s blood. With effort of all, we drove this hag back and continued on our quick pace to the Doors in the now empty cove.

If it was not for the deadly prey we sought, and the feeling that every moment mattered, I would have marveled at the powerful magics used to move and hold the coves waters at bay. Time, time for wonders can happen after this witch is dead.

Under the sea floor just off the coast of the Hook we faced undead creatures, dangerous traps, and ancient magics from a culture long dead. Through many hazards we fought until we came face to face with the snake in human form. Celia.

Not feeling threatened by her, we advanced. She fled combat by smearing some blood on a statue and turned to mist. I was not going to be denied. Without thought or plan I performed the same action and gave a vaporous chase while my companions fought her pets. This quick action was perhaps the first of my mistakes. I was blinded by my desire for justice. My desire to end this threat. In the kobold warrens if you move to fast you could loose a limb or a life. It was there I learned to be patient in approach and mindful of step. Lessons I seemed of have abandoned on the cursed isle. heh… cursed..

Through a long drain I moved until I came to a large room. There Dask was standing over the slain body of Celia. I could not believe my eyes. I did not want to believe my eyes. I knew this was trickery, more of her magic. I played along and tried to inch closer. She saw I was not buying what she was attempting to peddle and attacked dropping her ruse. I was ready and Windslpitter cut her deeply, but her claws too were quick and sliced my skin. It was hear I should have realized I was out matched. Instead I fought on. My second mistake.

It was not long until the others began to arrive and join the battle. Celia summoned more amorphous minions of chaotic nature, a Seed of Molgus to fight for her. We took some hits but began to turn the tide. We were able to disrupt the magic that fueled the evil of the isle. Its nightmarish hold could be felt slowly fading away. It should have been no surprise that again the which smeared her blood on one of the grotesque statues and turning to mist, began to flee combat. I had been temporarily blinded and did not see her go otherwise I would have quickly followed.

Khaine and I fought against the final minion while Palomarand Enoreth turned to mist and gave pursuit of the which. When we defeated it and turned to leave Khaine noticed a hidden compartment on the base of one of the statues. He asked me to check it, I only wanted to go after our prey. In my haste I did not put my full focus to the task, not wanting to take the time to do the job right. As I did not “notice” any traps I opened the compartment. My third mistake.

As the ancient magics coursed through my body, the pain of it twisting and creully reshaping me was unbearable and I dropped to the floor. Khaine came to my aid but took a step back at what I had become. CURSED!

Din'dae's Journal 5 - Mountain top to Oceans Floor

Image   din dae with chainmail

As we continued our decent through the ancient passages below the Lighthouse of Camp Sovereign, more hints of the evil that once inhabited these dank tunnels became evident. An evil not completely in line with the witch Celia’s goals it appears as signs of battle can be seen through out this place. A battle whose victor commanded powerful magics to slay undead and collapse tunnels.
A battle, by our assumptions, won by Celia.

Again she eludes us… always one set ahead… but we are closing the gap. We now know where she is going, even if the why plays like deep sea fog upon our eyes, not ready to reveal what lies ahead. But we will not be deterred. We will not falter. For the crimes against us, and the evil she seeks to unleash she WILL be brought low!

I hold my own confidence in this as I freshen our supplies for travel and my comrades update the other Castaways on what we found and where we are headed. In less than an hour we are off. Emboldened by our recent victories we travel along the established trails making great time for it. It is only hours before we reach the highest point of the island and find the structure depicted in the cave reliefs. The tracks we follow going here and then back down to the coast then here again, and finally back to the coast. A process we mimicked after a fleeting encounter with a harpy. An encounter made short by Enoreth’s always timely spells.

Threat neutralized, we realized we would need to call upon the magic of the ruin, to follow our prey. Gathering the regents needed for the spell, we head back to the hill top where Palomar leads in the ritualistic spell. A spell that caused the very ocean in the bay to recede, revealing a large set of double doors. Slowly and ominously opening.

We move quickly back down to the bay and across sea rocks and reef to again enter the unknown to face down evil. The evil of a long dead race…. the evil of a sinister seductress… and possibly a legacy of “He Who Should Not Be Named”.

Fate expects much of us it seems… I aim to not disappoint her!

Din'dae's Journal 4 - A Lighthouse to Remember

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It has taken many miserable days and nights, and no small dose of fighting and bloodshed… but we have finally made it to the Lighthouse. A structure once infested with the evil flesh eating savages, has now been cleared by strength of arms, arcane might and divine blessings.

Hmm… in retrospect the odds were surely stacked against us. Attacking the Red Fang Cannibals in their stronghold and us outnumbered nearly three to one. But I for one was through with running… through with being prey. As I looked at the others I could tell they were too.

We worked well together and won the day, and quickly set to searching and securing the camp. The sadism of these vile creatures becoming increasingly evident as we move building to building and room to room. But it appears that even among savages, politics and power plays can seek to sap ones… vitality.

These cursory mechanization aside, a discovery was made that risked raising my ire once more. Celia was here. Not as a captive, but by all accounts an honored or respected guest. Reasons why are starting to became all too clear now that we have descended into the tunnels below the lighthouse. A place we will discover what Celia is after, and gain a hint at WHAT she may actually be…

Brother Palomar's Journal (Entry 5)

Mother s cave

I must take a moment even now in this sinkhole of evil to write what I have witnessed.

We have descended below Camp Sovereign, entering the covered pit within the former Red Fang cannibal village, only to find an ancient temple constructed by some primordial snake-like humanoid race. Throughout the temple, images depict scenes of sacrifice, blood, and slavery. But one image in particular bodes ill for the world now – that of a detailed ritual at an array of stone megaliths that when completed raises the dead and controls the weather. Celia has preceded us here and apparently already performed this ritual, though for what malign purpose I know not.

I have recorded the details of the ritual here and attempted to duplicate the image with my own hand in the hopes that in so doing aid any effort to prevent or undo whatever threat there is.

I must confess that the frustration I had felt at being waylaid from my quest against The Unknown One has abated somewhat with the discovery that I once more find myself set against some great evil – a purpose which fires my passions and to which I now feel solely called. Praise the Host.

Brother Palomar's Journal (Entry 4)

Camp sovereign

It has been a week since we were shipwrecked and over the course of our travels south, we were beset by a creature that seems to stalk us at night and the Red Fang cannibals. We faced these threats and others the island had to offer and continued on.

Reaching the southern shore we found that the lighthouse still stood… though now the cornerstone of the cannibal tribe’s village. In our greatest battle yet, we faced the wrath of the frenzied primitives who thirsted for our blood and hungered for our flesh as they came pouring out from various huts and even the lighthouse itself. But to no avail. The Sovereign Host is on our side and our gods are greater than their corrupt god of decay.

As the chosen vessel of divine will, I have been ordained to deliver mercy to the faithful and judgment upon the wicked – even as great Adamaro with one hand forged Creation and with the other smote the entities of The Void. The cannibals’ presence is a blight upon the face of this island and I desire to purge it completely of their evil.

Following the victory was a time of celebration and blessing. The lighthouse, though in need of repair, is mostly intact and what remains of the permanent structures of the village will make a more secure camp (which I posit we call Camp Sovereign) from which to establish our safety, survival, and rescue – as well as serve as a permanent site from which to explore the island further.

Brother Palomar's Journal (Entry 3)

Tropical island

We have been waylaid.

Shipwrecked upon the accursed island known as Sailor’s Hook with a number of fellow castaways, we have been completely cut off from any ability to answer the rising threats that face the Kingdom of Isles we discovered while in Rann’s Grotto. Faith in the Sovereign Host be my guide that a greater purpose may come about from this ordeal.

I remain focused on our survival and escape from the Hook, determined to make our way to an abandoned lighthouse known to be on the southwestern shore with the hope of restoring its use. Strangely, most in the group are not similarly purposed but see these circumstances as an opportunity for adventure. I must find patience and compassion when dealing with those who do not share my convictions even while remaining faithful to my charge.

I have been called by the gods to deny myself an ordinary life in order to embody their teachings and serve the highest ideals. Their way is not my way and I must continue to serve regardless of the circumstances. I have had significant opportunities: to show leadership and protection in guiding and inspiring our group; to provide healing and comfort in treating Ness Ramora’s alcoholism, Din’dae and Magus Enoreth’s illnesses, and the group’s injuries; to battle the forces of evil through faith and combat in smiting the evil depravity of the Molgus-worshiping Red Fang cannibals on the island. Praise the Sovereign Host.

Din'dae's Journal 3 - The Hook is No Walk in the Park
No Walk in the Park

Image   din dae with chainmail

It has taken some time for me to gather my thoughts… So much has happened since last I wrote. After some downtime from the fighting we were finally slotted to be rotated home. I’ll admit I had mixed feelings about returning to Akadimar after experiencing a bit of the world beyond it’s coastline. Finding Windsplitter has shown me that the secrets of my heritage lie not in the Kingdom… but in the lands beyond. That is assuming we can get off this cursed island.

Hmmmmm, I suppose I should start there…

Sailor’s Hook

We were being rotated home aboard the Sea Otter, a nice enough vessel I suppose. The days passed with me keeping to my own thought more than usual (as I mentioned, I had mixed feelings about returning home). Perhaps if I were not so stuck in my own head I could have seen the signs of betrayal before they struck. Instead I awoke on a beach, head pounding, with my comrades and a few other passengers. The Sea Otter was wrecked and caught upon the reefs just off shore. But we were not alone… large crustaceans attacked the unconscious forms of the survivors, looking for an easy meal…

…their mistake.

After defeating these creatures, securing the beach as well as other passengers, we took stock for what we had and where we were. Through some discussion and consulting of maps we learned we were on Sailor’s Hook, a place of haunting myths and cannibalistic legends. So far my experiences here give these tales some validity.

Despite the harsh conditions and contracting Mindfire for a time I did my best to take care of the survivors the only way I knew how… by keeping them alive. I pushed myself hard everyday. Securing the camp each night, setting rations each morning and keeping alert till my eyes go blurry. All the while anger burned in my belly for the one who brought us here. The mysterious passenger Celia. A woman that by our accounts charmed the captain, and betrayed the crew. It is by her design that we landed on Sailor’s Hook. Although I doubt she cared if we survived.

It has now been several days upon the Hook. It is no walk in the park but together we push on. It is good that Palomar works to lift the spirits. Although I could do less with the preaching myself. I respect his view and that of the Sovereign Host but it is not my own. I look to the old ways of my people, and will seek to bring that culture back to fey if possible.

Still, his words seem to calm and soothe the nerves of the other passengers. Especially those of Ness Ramora. She was all manner of thunder and lightening before… now she seems to have found some comfort in his words. Perhaps more the way they read together each night. Odd timing to be focused on such things.

Of the other survivors, I seem to be getting along with Casandra well enough, although I fear she is a few birds short of a full flock. Still, her knowledge of nature makes it easy to discuss the needs of the camp. She has been the only one of the other survivors to routinely help with making and setting camp each night. I’ve conferred with her often sharing what I’ve learned of the flora and fauna here… If I fall she will be the groups hope to avoid any natural dangers.

But perhaps I myself am too focused on just survival. These are indeed individuals with something to say. Perfect example is the prison… no.. the Priest known as Dask. He was brought on board in chains and truth I gave him little thought. I’ve helped track down many a criminal for this reason or that. Yet through exploration of a known wreck we have found evidence that exonerates him of wrong doing. It was actually my close friend Khaine who supported the stop to give Dask a chance to prove his innocence.

I know that some of the others have stories… or have heard legends of Sailor’s Hook… as such I find my anger slowly being tempered by curiosity with my patience and logic returning. Perhaps the Mindfire’s lingering effects have finally abated showing me the questions that I wished answered.

Where is Celia going and why did she risk her (and our) life to come here?
What treasures lie off the coast, lost to time?
What is the winged creature that plagues our nights and my dreams?
What other secrets and dangers does this land hold?

Palomar Entreats the Party


After their initial foray into the Sea Otter, Brother Palomar entreats Din’dae, Magus Enoreth, and Khaine as they make their way back to the beach:

Please forgive me my friends.

While we have become quite experienced with harrowing ordeals, making quick decisions, and depending upon each other for aid, I failed to consider the impact such a disaster as this shipwreck would have on a group of strangers. In my concern for their safety as well as our own, I allowed my pride to get the best of me. When they responded to my instructions with what I can only imagine was fear, worry, confusion and doubt, it evoked anger within me. You see, I used to be a prideful and demanding man and the Sovereign Host is not done doing a good work in me – I must still continue to choose that which is right and holy over my natural inclinations. Fortunately, my subsequent remorse and humility have in turn tapped a well-spring of compassion within my heart and I would still see to the well-being of our fellow castaways – and for this I need the help of you all.

Upon our return let us all express concern and support for our fellow castaways – inquiring regarding their health, caring for their needs, asking about their worries, seeking to understand their motivations, and treating them with kindness – as we go about the business of preparing camp and making further plans. Additionally, reassure them of whatever confidence you may have in me regarding my capacity as spokesman for our group. Then perhaps after such a time as we have done these things and consulted with each other, I should be able to secure their trust and cooperation in whatever endeavors we deem necessary.

Letter to Argonnian


Dear Master Argonnian, Temple of the Sovereign Host, Akadimar:
Sent in faith, your student Palomar, Rann’s Grotto (308.9 AM).

I give thanks daily for your entrusting me with a shard of godstone. The Host has seen to it that your purpose in equipping me for good works of faith has not been in vain (as you have heard of our actions at the Battle of Rann’s Grotto and in the Ruins of Castle Slate). I have attached with this letter a copy of my journal entry regarding the divine vision revealed to me when I touched the godstone.

We set sail for Akadimar soon and I send this letter ahead of my arrival. Know that based upon what I have come across since departing Akadimar I purpose myself to the following:

  1. The pursuit of a diplomatic resolution to the rising goblin threat – possibly uniting them with the Kingdom of Isles like the orcs.
  2. Ferreting out the identity of the Unknown One and the forces that support it – and crushing them.
  3. Solving the mystery of the Magiclysm and preventing a recurrence.

I look forward to consulting with you on these topics when I arrive shortly.


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