Rise of the Obsidian Legion: Entry 10

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #125

We all sit in silence. The quiet is deafening as everyone tries to sort it all out. I cannot hold my rage back anymore and speak my mind. It makes the most sense.

My suspicion is instantly shot down by quick thinking Lithia. She points out that if the Skulx is building the abominations, why would they need Henry.

A solid point.

Balasar finally chims in, bringing to my attention that it could be our new friend in the North. The couple looks at him confused as I think it over.

The paladin could be right. It is very odd that Nathanos would contact me days before the attack on Icewall happened. The mage also knew we were heading North as well. And anyone in their right mind would never trust a lich.

Except Lothric.

Prince Amon asks who this friend could be and I do not hesitate to tell. He and Lithia’s jaws drop at the mention of what he is and the ties to the Sunbreakers. I assure them that Nathanos is honest in his claim at the title, informing them that I took a look at his gem. They look skeptical as I reveal to them that the undead wants us to head to his castle as I reveal the key.

Doing so brings the eavesdropping King Frost into the room, who gently scolds his son for hold private matters in such an open area. The prince slightly hangs his head to hide his reddening face. It seem I may have spoke to soon of the boy become a man.

Placing a hand on his son’s shoulder, King Frost assure Amon that he is grateful for overhearing our news for the king knows of the lich’s name. Nathanos has a place in the history of Icewall. Over a century ago, then a living and breathing orc, he traded with Prince Frost’s great grandfather. They considered one another a trust alley.

We all breath a sigh of relief.

It seems the gods are favoring us with this news. We need to meet the Sunbreaker to find Lothric. Once the sheriff is found surely Brask will not be too far behind. Then we can retrieve Henry’s corpse and return it to peace.

The only downside to this is that we believed we were done with Cindermaw’s chosen. Now as soon as trouble begins to brew they enter our lives again.

So be it.

Snatching the key from the table, I inform everyone that in the morning it will lead us to the lich.

Rise of the Obsidian Legion: Entry 9

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #124

I warn Amon and Lithia about Tuskgutter and Doctor Slukx, the creator of the thing. Throwing the notes and journal on the dining table, I express my fear that since they have let these orcs into their kingdom that the abomination will head here seeing how the two were heading North.

The concern on the royal couple’s faces is dreadful at the news.

With another deep sigh, Prince Frost tells Balasar and myself the story, how days ago the orcs had arrived at the gates freezing, starving and fearful for their lives. None would speak of what they experienced save for one survivor. The refugee’s appointed leader told our friend of a hulking and savage one of their kind who easily killed all who opposed it.

There is no doubt in my mind that it is Tuskgutter.

Amon’s journey into manhood continues to impress me as he decides to move the orc survivors further into Icewall to protect them. Further more, construction will be halted until the spring months. Hopefully this will protect not just the newcomers to the kingdom but all of its citizens.

Another deep sigh leads the Prince’s terrible news.

Large, mounted birds of some kind bombarded the graveyard outside the kingdom’s walls. Due to the distance, none were able to get eyes on who or what rode in the saddles. None were shot down by the archers. As Amon, Lithia and a handful of guards rushed the area they where stopped and routed by walls of fire from the bombs.

The attack had lasted only minutes, making it apparent that whoever had lead the assault knew what they were seeking. Besides scorched earth and minor damage to some headstones, only one grave site was disturbed.

Henry’s body had been taken.

My heritage’s rage begins to take a hold as I through a chair into the wall. We were kindred spirits, both used by Novak as he held our families against us. None at this table could ever understand that bond. Even though the dwarf feared the King of Icewall would have his head if he found out about Henry’s ties to The Restless Hand, he died a hero and gave his life during the siege.

And now those bastard came for his body. I just know it was them. Why would anyone in all of the Sword Coast come for one dead dwarf with a brand?

Then it dawns upon me.

This incident and Tuskgutter is connected. It has to be. The Restless Hand are building more of these orc slaughtering freaks. But why do they need Henry’s body?

Whatever the reason I am going to hunt Tuskgutter, Slukx and the reaming members of my former organization and kill every last one of them.

Rise of the Obsidian Legion: Entry 8

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #123

As our horses trot to the gates of Icewall I see the spell Nataku had taught me months ago worked. The snowbird that was enchanted by my nature magic delivered the message ahead of our arrival. On top of the battlements of the gates Balasar and I can see Prince Amon Frost pointing us out to his guards.

Our friend is a welcomed sight from the harsh winter cold of the North. We have been through much together in the short time Amon and I have known each other. I went from setting Maddox, Varix and myself up for the prince to capture to pleading with him to aid me in destroying The Restless Hand. Prince Frost had proven to me that he was the only person I could trust through Novak’s long reach on the Sword Coast. Alongside Lithia and Balasar, we defeated him and his organization.

Or so we thought. Luring him in with promises of power to protect his people, the naive prince fell under the corruption of the First Breaker.

He was an unwilling agent for Vecna’s causes. They were using him to not only get to me but to take over the kingdom of Icewall. Despite the deceit, Amon broke free over their control to rise up and help us defeated The Maimed Lord’s minions once and for all.

We have a friendship bound by brands turned scars.

He welcomes us into Icewall with firm hand shakes that are pulled into hearty hugs. The boy seems as if he has grown into a man with the beard now framing his face. I would hope so seeing how Amon is now a father more than anything.

As the guards take our horses to the stables for some much deserved rest I am proud at what I see in this once war torn kingdom. Prince Frost’s promise that all citizens would be treated as equals has come to fruition. All within the walls are working together to rebuild what was lost during The Restless Hand’s siege almost a year ago. Then there is quite the surprised for Balasar and myself among the folk.

Full blooded orcs?!

Balasar and I cannot believe our eyes at what we are seeing. Just over a dozen of the strong brutes are assisting in erecting several of the buildings. A few look in our direction with nods of approval and not a care for the look of shocks on our faces. Has the young Amon truly become worthy to carry the title of king?

The smirk on his face as we look at says enough.

We continue our walk to the keep without much of a word spoken. What the prince is doing in Icewall will speak volumes to the community in the North after the fall of the orc kingdom Many Arrows years ago.

To solidify this stance as we enter the dining hall, Lithia Muun-Frost counts among her children an orc infant among their twin boys. The baby is tended to by the maidens of the sorceress no different than Henry or Randle. A good sign indeed for the future of this kingdom.

Or one that could bring a bloodbath if Tuskgutter were to find itself within these walls.

As my friend begins to introduce her unusual babe I cut her off, warning both Amon and Lithia of the terrible news I bring and how it will now affect Icewall and its newest citizens.

Looking sternly at me in a way only Muun can, Amon exhales a deep sigh of concern. Prince Frost waves away the maidens to take the children as he hangs his head in one hand, taking another deep breath to slowly release it.

It is a sign that Lithia and he have terrible news as well.

Rise of the Obsidian Legion: Entry 7

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #122

As the skeletal orc beckons me to follow the key home I once again ask myself if trusting this godsdamned lich is right. The creature makes me uneasy like all undead do but this one is different than any I have ever put down. Far different to say the least. It as all the benefits of its cursed existence with all the power of an archmage.

At this point I have no choice but to put my faith in the thing. The Sunbreaker gem is an indication of a trusted ally of Lothric. Though I do not trust the dragon, Cindermaw would not bind the artifact to the lich if it did not uphold law and justice.

Through the magical connection I question the sheriff’s cryptic ally. The lich freely gives the answers.

Lothric is not on a mission given by Cindermaw but a one he holds personal. My friend hunts down Brask, once a member of Icewall’s military under Randle Dundragon. Feeling betrayed by his commander after his pride led to the soldier’s demise, Brask rose from the grave as an undead to seek revenge on our ally. We heroes of Red Larch had repelled him and his soldiers within the walls of Icewall during the siege.

The undead mage continues on, informing me that it and Lothric had fought along side each other before he settled into his adopted home. I take the hint that the sheriff had been a Sunbreaker before coming to defend our small town.

And as if to earn my trust, it tells me it’s name.

Nathanos.

Eyeing the bright, red gem set in the old, wooden staff I asked of Cindermaw and his plans for the remaining four gems?

The lich informs me that the great dragon has almost purified the corruption within them. Once Novak’s taint is removed, the fire wyrm will seek out those worthy of gem’s power to restore law to the lands.

Nathanos goes on to notify me that my path is leading to him, that I will find his fortress in the glacier past Icewall. His key, given to me by Lothric, was forged there within the ice and will allow me and my companions entrance.

It’s mentioning of the glacier does not sit well. For the life of me I cannot figure out why as he rambles about the key. Much like Slukx was rambling on in his notes about the glacier.

The same glacier this fortress lies within.

I cut the lich off, warning him that Tuskgutter is coming. Nanthanos dismisses my concern with a wave of his hand as if it does not matter. With a grim and threatening tone he declares all who have tried to enter have died. As the magic begins to fade I explain that the abomination was crafted to sense and hunt our kind.

Again, Nathanos waves his hand showing not a care.

With the image of the lich gone I cannot help but believe it would not be such a bad thing to have a confident and powerful ally.

Rise of the Obsidian Legion: Entry 6

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #121

We wasted little time as possible once returning to Red Larch. Leaving Stormaxe in the roll of sheriff during my absence, I said my goodbyes to Amara as Balasar got his business lined out at the Last Tavern on the Left.

She is all I have thought about while on the road to Icewall.

Remembering the sadness on her delicate features has made every night restless. My love reassured me that she understood why I must go but it does not ease the pain of leaving. Every morning I have woke up telling myself that this is what must be done to protect her and everyone in my home. It is a promise made that I intend to keep from all those days ago.

We briefly stopped Mirabar to resupply for the bitter cold of the Northern wind. I decided to warn Lamoram on what we had discovered. With Tuskgutter being intelligent as Doctor Slukx claims, our guess is they have avoided all settlements to not give themselves away.

The meeting was mostly pointless. He nor his organization could offer any aid. It seems the siege of Icewall had took a toll on Mirabar and its resources. The most the priest can offer is a hot meal and a warm cot, a most welcomed gift during the harsh winter months.

During our short stay with the priest and just like every night on the road, I can feel the pull of Lothric’s key, guiding me like a compass past the city. It is almost urging me to continue on as if under the lich’s spell. Despite my efforts to ignore lure, the pulses get stronger every step we take North.

Just a day outside of Icewall, I used magic taught to me by Nataku to send a message ahead to warn of our arrival. A tingle of magic in my mind throws me off, it is not of nature. The recipient of my spell could never arrive so fast to its destination nor should there be any feed back after casting.

A voice echoes in my thoughts. The image of the throne covered with overgrowth takes shape. A Sunbreaker gem sparks as green eyes flare to life. My bones are rattled by the pulsing of the key. Spiking cold pain quickly wracks my body.

Once again, the lich beckons me.

Rise of the Obsidian Legion: Entry 5

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #120

I am lost in my thoughts. The anger at what Balasar and myself have discovered weighs heavily on my shoulders. The distraction is so great it takes the sharp pain of piercing cold in my hip to bring my attention to the pulsing with my pouch. As soon as my fingers touch Lothric’s key something reaches into my mind.

The anger subsides to fear as my memories race back to every time Novak had done this to me. I fight back, willing myself to block out the intrusion. A shimmer of an illusion begins to form. Then I see it, a glowing red gem.

A Sun Breaker.

They are heavily cloaked, sitting in an old throne covered in mold and fungus as if they are deep within a ancient forest. Its voice is dry and cracked as if they have not spoken in over a century. Whoever this is warns me that Lothic is in grave danger. That I am to gather allies and head to Icewall to begin a search.

As they lean forward I can see within the darkness of their hood as tiny, green orbs begin to glow, revealing the skeletal face of an orc. Thin, dead skin hides parts of its face. Unlike myself the tusk are larger and worn. A small fracture marks the front of its skull.

A godsdamned lich.

The undead tells me to follow the key home.

Why should I trust him after Novak and Prince Amon’s experiences with Cindermaw’s gems of powers? Despite Lothric’s affiliation with the dragon, my trust in him is due to the bond we developed over The Restless Hand. But it knows I have no choice. I have to have faith that this is my friend’s doing.

Willing myself to speak through the magic, I ask of if it knows of this Tuskgutter and Doctor Slukx. It leans back in its decrepit throne, revealing what I assume is a smirk.

The Sun Breaker informs me that they are both involved in the larger scheme of things. To hunt them down is to learn of the truth of why The Restless Hand was created. It assured me all will be revealed in time.

Growling at this undead mage, the image of the magic slowly fades away as does the light from its eyes and that of the glowing gem in its staff. As it does something violent shakes me. Instinctively grabbing for Novak’s shortsword, a firm grip stops me.

Rapidly blinking me eyes as the magic ceases, Balasar warns me not to do so. The paladin knows something important has just occurred. With a deep breath I tell him what I had experienced.

With more to worry on our minds we pick up the pace to Red Larch.

Rise of the Obsidian Legion: Entry 4

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #119

As we rush back home my heart fills with hate. Rage muddles my mind. The calm before the storm is over. This oversight has let The Restless Hand slip right back into my life.

How could I have been so careless?

I grind my teeth as it hits me like the club of an ogre.

I have become soft.

Before Red Larch, before Amara and everything else I was cold to those around me. After Novak had let Remy die and forced me into The Restless Hand all I could do is think about how to rid myself of them.

From my time in my organization I had been taught to tie up loose ends. Once I had my chance to be free of Maddox and Varix there was no doubt in my mind what needed to be done. As they slept in their cells the night after our trial I set them ablaze. Their deaths would prevent them from chasing me down.

That was the first of many loose ends.

Since that night all I did was sever my ties to The Restless Hand. I defeated Novak and aided in killing his ally, the First Breaker. This all lead to preventing them from gathering the Sun Breaker gems and stopped the siege of Icewall.

But to do that I needed allies when I had not trusted anyone in years. Through Prince Amon Frost I had learned to open myself up and put faith in other people. With Lithia Muun I had found someone who understood my bluntness and wariness of people. Balasar, someone who I blamed for so much in the beginning of my rebellion, taught me forgiveness and became my brother in arms.

I believed all my loose ends were tied.

All of this blinded me to be cautious of what lurks in the shadows. It dulled the edge built in back ally fights. Just like that young and innocent orphan running the streets of Waterdeep, I had let my guard down for The Restless Hand to gain footing in my life once again.

There is no forgiving myself for this.

Rise of the Obsidian Legion: Entry 3

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #118

The two zombies are not an issue, they go down effortlessly. It is what we find in the back of Lance Rock, the source of the horrid smell. The scene is all too familiar, it is one both Balasar and myself wished to never lay eyes upon again.

Dozens of butchered orcs lay, hang or are stacked about the cave. The sight make me force down the vomit rising in the throat. An inspection of their bodies reveals some limbs were torn by force, others were cut by a blade.

My blood boils as I think back to the Bringers of Woe compound where we had seen this before. My scarred shoulder begins to ache at the thought, a reminder of the abomination that was constructed there. Novak had the thing hunting my kind in some strange cannibalistic fashion.

Balasar draws me away from my thoughts, pointing out the forge and tools. The bloody saw among them only reaffirms our findings. Beside them sets a cot and table for a smaller person. Atop the old table rests a blood stained journal.

Shuffling through the pages we find out the butcher fancies himself as Doctor Slukx. The entries are frantically written, a clue that either he was in a rush or insane. I imagine it is both due to the notes within.

It mentions his failures lead to this great creation. This new abomination is intelligent despite its hunger for its own kind. Slukx marvels at the thing’s keen ability to think and how it is an asset to the hunt. It has even thought to give itself a name.

Tuskgutter.

Overwhelmed by what we have discovered, I give no thought to check the drawer of the table before opening it. The tiny cut from the razor is nothing to the panic that is starting to swell within me. Another journal is inside, this one is more personal than medical.

Quickly thumbing through the entries I notice The Restless Hand, including sketches resembling my brand from them. Novak is mentioned very little. There are some ramblings about a glacier in the North. But the final pages breathe life into my fears.

Slukx and this Tuskgutter are heading toward Icewall where this glacier rest. Are they hunting me? Do they believe that is where I will be found? Are they hunting the orc tribes in the area?

Pointing out my findings to Balasar, I express my fear that they could be in Red Larch this very minute. My friend quickly calms me, explaining if Tuskgutter was tracking my scent we would have already confronted the abomination. He believes they are heading North without hesitation.

The paladin suggest we do the same.

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Rise of the Obsidian Legion: Entry 2

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #117

A quarter mile outside of Lance Rock the land is eerily quite, more so than it would be in these winter months. There are no squawking of snow birds or the crunching of leaves by squirrels making their last forages before the bitter cold sets in. Not one trace of life marks the area. It is nothing but dead silence.

As Balasar and myself move closer we see the enormous land mark out in the distance. But the size is not what draws my attention, the creek before it does. For as far as we can see it is frozen solid.

Our horses become uneasy as we trot down the slope toward the creek. Not wanting to spook them, we back track a few dozen yards and head out on foot. Just within bow shot we can see why the water is froze solid.

Glaring out of a icy geyser is that wretched black skull. All around it are fish, some decayed to skeletons while others remain preserved, trapped within their frozen prison. The sight makes my skin crawl. Closing my eyes, the nausea washes over me. With a flash of yellow I am remind of the pain and fear of coming into contact with it. With Balasar at my side I place a hand on his shoulders to balance myself.

The paladin scolds himself for not coming back. Though understandable I remind him to not be so harsh on himself. With everything we were caught in it was easy to forget something so small. I reassure him all we need to do is take the cursed skull away from here and by summer all should be blooming and bright once more.

Again, Balasar stands firm on his beliefs. It is easy to tell he feels the evil here, reassuring himself by pointing out that the cave radiates with the strong aura as much as the area outside. He gives no doubts that we need to check within.

Not wanting to waste anymore time around the black skull as need, we quickly chip the ice away around it. Taking every precautions not to touch the thing, we wrap the paladin’s cloak tightly around it before placing it in his pack.

Quick stepping ahead I take the lead into the darkness of the cave mouth, posting up against the unusually frigid walls to let my eyes adjust to the dark. Within the smell is horrid as if meat had spoiled in the summer heat. It does not take long to locate the source. I hear them before they show themselves, the shuffling feet of the undead.

Slowly moving in for an ambush I signal to Balasar that there are two up ahead. As he marches forward to draw their attention, the slaying of the living dead brings a smirk to my lips. It reminds me of all the good we heroes of Red Larch had done with defeating Novak and The Restless Hand’s undead hordes.

It reassures me the peace that I have earned is well deserved.

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Rise of the Obsidian Legion: Entry 1

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #116

The journey of life is much like the ocean waves. At times it is rough and chaotic like the crashing waves during a storm. Other times it is calm and peaceful like the shoreline on a breezy, warm day.

The gods know my life has been nothing short of a hurricane. Those days of losing Jalina and Remy. Pushing Novak’s extortion from Waterdeep to Red Larch. Attempting to escape from it all only to find myself facing that bastard. Getting caught up in the insanity of the accursed Sun Breakers gems that The Restless Hand was after. All of that had lead to the battle of Ice Wall.

Despite the hardships, I would go through it a thousand times for the small bit of peace this last year has brought. I have made close friends and allies. My once lost friend Jalina is back in my life. What remained of Novak’s undead forces were hunted and destroyed. The bandits have ceased their attacks between here and Triboar. In return for all I had done, Red Larch has excepted me as one of their own. And most importantly, Amara has open her heart to me.

The only stress I feel is the weight of being sheriff in Lothric’s absence. Months ago he headed North, giving me no reason as to why. I can only imagine it is something to do with the Sun Breakers. Before leaving my friend trusted me with a key that is frigid to the touch, stating it could unlock anything native to the town. To this day I am still not sure what that means but I have had no need to put it to the test.

I am at ease in my new role, taking care of petty squabbles in Red Larch or handling the occasional unruly drunk. Most of my time is dedicated to the training of the lawmen. Deputy Stormaxe has taken to the city’s defenses with his dwarven ingenuity. For reassurance, Balasar has hired a handful of adventures from his recently opened tavern to aid in overseeing the general area. Us three have done all we can to give these good folk peace.

But today that could end.

A face I have not seen in a long time has return to Red Larch. Nataku, a close ally of mine, as come with news of trouble. A sickness is spreading in the Southwest. The elf claims it is as if death itself has taken physically form and infected the area.

Chills run up my spine as a forgotten memory comes to mind. With the chaos of The Restless Hand and the march on Ice Wall, we never went back the cave to take care it after all this time. Reading the look on Balasar’s hard features says the copperborn knows it as well.

With all haste we ride to Lance Rock.

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The March on Icewall: Entry 30

These events take place before Rise of the Obsidian Legion.

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #115

Through fire and smoke we return to the throne room of Castle Frost with the prince unconscious at our feet. His mother rushes to his side, crying as she throws herself on his motionless body. Lothric kneels beside her, assuring her that Amon is all right and that the evil is gone.

King Frost stares at his son with cold, emotionless eyes. I am unsure what my friend’s father thinks of all this. One can only hope he understands that this goes far beyond what had befallen Amon.

When the prince awakens, we urge him to tell the story. I remind him to mention Henry’s tale to make sure the good dwarf gets the proper burial he deserves. For what he has done for Amon, and more importantly, for myself, our lost friend should be held a hero for what the dwarf has done this day.

Afterwards Balasar, Lothric and I dispose of Novak and the First Breaker corpses, taking them far outside of Icewall’s borders. Though the bodies of the enemy are thick with the kingdom these two do not belong among the masses. Together the web of evil they weaved had spread too far, causing devastation to wherever it touched.

We wanted them in a place no one could ever find.

Our plan is to stay for Henry’s funeral, we owe him that much. If not for him I may have never found the courage to stand against Novak. We had a brotherhood and understanding that none will ever know. Though wishing we could switch places, deep within I know he would disagree knowing the life I have carved for myself.

From Icewall we will head back to Mirabar, informing Lamoram of Randle Dundragon’s demise. I have no doubts the dark elf will make the right preparations for a follower of Pelor. Surely his funeral will be grand.

Finally we are to return to Red Larch, placing the warrior priest under the watch of the temple he had raised in town. Like Henry, Randle deserves a hero’s farewell. I imagine his passing will draw many from miles around from his time as a soldier and now, as a priest, who has healed and aided those in need. As he graced us with his presence many months ago, I look forward to doing the same to those who called him friend and ally alike.

But most importantly I head home, somewhere I never would have thought to be discovered when this all started. To know that people who love me like Amara and Jalina wait there for my arrival with open arms and smiles.

It is a place that I can finally be at peace.

The March on Icewall: Entry 29

These events take place before Rise of the Obsidian Legion.

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #114

Lothric chants in the dragon tongue, summoning flames that dance around us. As his voice grows louder the fire engulfs us. On instinct I close my eyes and flinch but quickly realize they do not burn. As I open them I am at a loss of words at where we are.

Everything is alight for as far as we can see. In the distance volcanos constantly spew molten lava that feeds the magma beneath us. Their thick, black smoke fills the sky above. The heat is so intense you can see it ripple through the air.

The sheriff warns us not to break our circle. To do so would incinerate us all where we stand in seconds.

We glide inches above the magma on some unseen disc as Lothric guides us to the nearby mountains. A thunderous roar echoes through them that shakes me to my core. Fear rushes through my body despite telling myself to trust my mentor. Just a bow shot from the base I understand why I feel what I do.

A massive dragon the color of the landscape emerges from a cavemouth.

Cindermaw.

The beast is terrible and magnificent at the same time.

The dragon snorts as he breathes the air in deeply as if catching a scent. Looking down on Lothric he ask why his servant has brought the deceiver to his domain.

The sheriff explains that Amon was fooled by Zul, the undead sibling of his God. With the power granted to the dragon by Vecna, he twisted the power of the Sunbreaker gem before bestowing it to the prince, bonding his life force to the cursed stone. Once seeing through the lies of the First Breaker the prince sought redemption.

With this Lothric sets the pure and imperfect gems before his God.

Placing his enormous claw over the gems a cylinder of fire engulf them. Three of the stones shine in the flames. The corrupted two fizzle and spark against Cindermaw’s powerful magic. When the spell is over only Prince Frost’s gem remains impure.

The dragon of fire snarls in anger, informing us that it will take much time to purify this gem. With a wave of his claw the five stones disappear before us.

He then ask for Amon to step forward to be purified of his corruption.

Before he steps into the magma Lithia grabs him by the arm, tears roll down her cheeks. The girl is worried for his safety. Lothric places his hand on her shoulder to reassure the mage that her lover will be alright. After kissing her hand the prince steps off the disc.

Flames from the magma rise to cover him as he screams in agony. Lithia reaches out to grab him but the sheriff and Balasar hold her back. Amon thrashes in pain as his flesh is seared and scorched, pulling a putrid black liquid from his body.

The sounds of my brother’s torment are more unbearable than the sight before us. Despite all his courage Balasar looks away, turning the wailing Lithia with him from the ritual. I fight the urge to turn away because deep down I need to see this through. Lothric, a man forged by these fires, is unphased by it all as he looks on.

Though the ritual seems like it took an eternity, it is over in mere seconds.

With unseen force Prince Frost is raised from the magma and flames, his symbol of Vecna removed. As he is gently placed before us his body glows red and smolders from the painful ritual. Lithia reaches for Amon but quickly pulls back as she touches him, her hand burned by his flesh.

Cindermaw turns to move back into his cave, telling us that the prince will leave here not a Sunbreaker. That he has proven unworthy of the gem and lost his sense of law.

With those words the fires rage around us, engulfing us once more to take us away from this hellish landscape.

The March on Icewall: Entry 28

These events take place before Rise of the Obsidian Legion.

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #113

With Novak and the First Breaker dead the others race through Castle Frost searching for Amon’s mother and father. Sitting on the cold, stone floor looking at the carnage around me I search for something else, something personal.

My next step in life.

With Novak truly defeated, what should I do? I have built a nice existence for myself in Red Larch. Amara, a woman too beautiful to grace myself with her presence, cares for me unlike anything I have ever experienced. Jalina has returned to me, a reminder of good times from years ago. On top of this the townsfolk except me as not only a hero but one of their own.

It is a place any person would be a fool not to call home.

But as I look to the fallen Sunbreaker I cannot help but think there is more to this. There is something beyond the Restless Hand and the branding. Amon had spoke of a dragon who had defied death and granted him the wicked power he possessed. Placing my hand on the cold area of the stone I am reminded of the gateway and the inky, black tentacles that came from it.

Deep within I know sooner or later more must be done to search out this evil before its grip becomes too strong.

But I must face what evil remains in this castle, that which is inside Amon.

As they return with his parents in tow I ask myself if I am ready for this, to kill a man I call brother. Though he had did his part in defeating Novak and the First Breaker it is something the prince has done before just to fool us. First, Amon had saved and returned Jalina to me. Next, he aided in driving the First Breaker away and saving Red Larch. For all I know this is all a ruse as well.

It is bad enough to kill him but now with the King and Queen of Icewall here as witnesses makes it worse.

Seeing the slight orc bloodline in my face they are taken back at my appearance. Their son is quick to step up, informing them of who I am, what I have done for him and that I am nothing more than a fine ally.

Those last words hurt as I hear them. Amon is someone I trusted. Without him I would never had built the courage to attack Novak and The Restless Hand. But I know I have to push aside those feelings so no others must lose their lives.

I position my feet to pounce at him. It must be timed right. Lithia is the one I know that is the biggest threat when making my move. I can only hope both Balasar and Lothric have not been fooled by Prince Frost’s action here in the throne room.

Then Lothric speaks up, asking Amon if he is ready. With a deep breath of worry he agrees. The sheriff promises the purge will work and that the prince can return to his normal life.

Purge? What does Lothric mean?

Holding hands they form a circle. My mentor ask if I am joining them. Taking his hand I ask what this is all about. The sheriff throws me a wink and sly smile.

We are going to stand before Cindermaw.

The March on Icewall: Entry 27

These events take place before Rise of the Obsidian Legion.

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #112

Running to the right flank of Balasar, I complete the circle around the First Breaker. Looking over Amon the prince seems in rough shape, clearly taking the brunt of the damage. Lothric is covered in nicks and cuts but seems energized since regaining a Sunbreaker gem.

In a defensive stand the ebonborn fiend measures us, surely looking to which one of us is the weakest. Anyone else in this situation knows they would be doomed but not this brute. With centuries of battle experience, I have no doubt it has defeated multiple foes at once.

But we are not going to give it the chance to do so.

Screaming to the beast that he will never own him Prince Frost charges in first, greataxe held high. The chop is easily blocked by his fellow Sunbreaker, who spins with him only to quickly throw him at Balasar. Both are launched backwards by the force of the impact.

The fiend continues the spin, swinging it’s greatsword in a wide arc to keep Lothric and myself at a distance. With speed that betrays his size, the ebonborn quickly kicks out, knocking my friend flat on his back.

As he raises his blade high over his head a blast of flames and heat catches him off guard.

Lithia goes right back into spell casting.

Taking the opportunity to follow the opening I keep pace with the backside of the brute. As soon as the second spell connects I leap upon his back, stabbing him repeating in the shoulder with Novak’s shortsword.

The First Breaker reaches up, grabbing me by the head and flinging me to the stones. Using his momentum he raises the greatsword overhead, brining the blade down hard at me. In the blink of an eye Lothric is there, blocking the attack with his metal arm.

He comes up with in uppercut with his good arm, rattling the skull of the dragon fiend. Rearing back with his new arm, Lothric sends the First Breaker stumbling back with a heavy punch. A roar of agony shakes the Castle Frost as Balasar’s greatsword pushes through his belly from behind.

A back elbow busts the paladin in the snout but Amon is there to keep up the attack, burying the greataxe in the lost Sunbreaker’s thigh. Lithia’s lover is swatted away with the flat of the massive blade. The attack is answered as the First Breaker is caught in the chest by a bolt of fire from the mage.

Lothric charges in with me on his heels, punching with his metal arm where the spell scorched the hide. As he dodges a clawed hand I dash in, puncturing the arm pit once, then twice.

Realizing he is outnumbered, the ebonborn fiend blows a green mist over us. It sets my skin on fire. Breathing it in does the same to my lungs. Both my mentor and I hack and spit blood as we try to escape. We never see the greatsword coming.

But Balasar does.

Bleeding badly from his snout the paladin leaps into the mist, grabbing the First Breaker by both arms. He struggles against the brute’s impressive strength to prevent a death blow to either Lothric or myself. Their roars hurt my ears as they battle for position. Getting the best of Balasar, he begins to bend my friend over backwards in an attempt to break his back.

The fiend’s knee buckles as Amon places the greataxe between its shoulder blades.

Shocked and stunned by the blow his grip lets up. Balasar launches a headbutt to rock the beast backwards. Removing the axe, Prince Frost hacks at the other leg, dropping the First Break to his hands and knees. It looks at Amon, cursing him with every breath with hateful eyes.

The newest Sunbreaker is the last thing it will ever see.

With a great heave the prince takes the fiend’s head.

The March on Icewall: Entry 26

These events take place before Rise of the Obsidian Legion.

Lynch’s Journal

Entry #111

My eyes flutter as I lose consciousness, helplessly falling to the stone floor.

Something breaks my fall. Rough hands hold me up as a familiar warmth flows into my muscles and bones. My injuries mend instantly from the healing touch. For a moment I believe Randle Dundragon has returned from the dead to aid us.

As I my eyes flash open Balasar is looking down upon me, demanding I get up and finish what I started. With cutlass still in hand he shoves me forward to my nemesis.

I lock blades with Novak as the paladin sweeps wide to my left for the flank. Realizing the tactic he leaps back, blasting me with his desvestating energy before jumping high to stick to the wall. With the speed of a cat he climbs up to the ceiling.

Without no way reach him Balasar positions himself to catch the cursed copperborn if he attempts to escape.

Cursing the bastard, I use the magic taught to me by Nataku on my daggers and hurl them at him. With a wave of his hand Novak former a barrier shield just inches from him, blocking the blades and sending them falling to the floor.

He mocks me, stating I could have everything I wanted and more if to only take his offer. He makes promises that with the power of the First Breaker we can rule Icewall. Before he can continue an explosion of fire launches him and his greatsword to the floor, crashing hard to skitter across the stones.

Balasar and I offer a nod of thanks to Lithia as the paladin charges in to aid Amon and Lothric with the dragon fiend. She answers with a smile as the mage goes into spell casting and focusing on the foe bearing down on her lover.

Before Novak can get up I run at him, grabbing his greatsword on my way. To my surprise it turns back into a shortsword at my touch. As he gets to his knees I tackled him facedown into the floor. Pulling his head back to expose his neck the bastard begs me, promising me riches beyond my dreams. The copperborn says whatever he can for me to spare his life.

And right before us the same gateway from that night long ago opens up. Within I can see nothingness but I can hear it in my head, the gibberish. My brain itches as it calls to me.

Novak screams.

In an instant the black tentacles rush forward, grabbing not only him but reaching for me as well. Their slimy touch chills me to the bone. Novak screams and pleads not to be taken, begging the First Breaker to save him.

Images flash through me head.

A lake surrounded by statues.

A yellow sign.

A sacrificial alter on a beach.

An abnormal city floating in the sea.

One of the tentacles wraps around my waist, pulling me to the opening with Novak. I stab at it repeatedly, pumping it full of acid. As it lets go only to have another grab me by the leg.

Novak grabs me as well, vowing that if he is to live through that nightmare again that I will join him.

NO!

I would rather live the terror a thousand fold knowing that the bastard died at my hands. Grabbing him by the throat I ram the shortsword into his forehead. After a few seconds of violent shuttering Novak’s body goes still.

As his head hits the floor the tentacles let go of us as the gateway begins to close. The last of the gross appendages runs across my face as if caressing my cheek, as if it knew it me, before slithering into the nothingness.

With a small pop the portal closes. Knowing that I am finally rid of Novak I get to my feet to aid my friends in killing the First Breaker.

To finally end this once and for all.