From the journal of Griven:
It’s been four days since the battle at the goblin infested fort. The journey has been longer than expected. I’d hoped by now to be able to speak with Kryllin and beseech her gift in helping guide my brother on his way to The Halls. It’s taken some time for me to come to terms, knowing the fate of all that eventually reach that place of judgment. I know the soul lingers for some time before eventually moving on, giving the living time to make arrangements and prepare for the venture. Emeric looks much as he did before, my magic and the natural elements helping to keep him in a sort of hibernated state. If not for the fact that his visage mimics mine, the cold blue-white of his skin the only reflection of change, I’d believe he slept soundly. I know that Maera will embrace him in that place and hold him at her side.
Those we freed continue to trudge on beside us. After our flight from the fort, we turned hard to the west towards the Hearth Trees, a place known to Malosian. In its encompassing boughs and surrounding needles we found refuge from any searching eyes. I’ve given away the warm clothes that Emeric and I had used and what is left of the week worth of rations that we each brought with us. The addition of eight people has stretched us beyond our means, though Malosian has been able to aid us with some skill at hunting.
I look forward to a proper meal when we finally return to Watchgap Fort, if one is available. My stomach is already protesting at the lack of substance. We passed by Watchgap Fort’s safe confines a few days ago. Here I had thought our grueling journey might be over, that we might find a brief respite from all the trials we’ve experienced physically and emotionally. As Malosian and I reached the top of a copse-shrouded hillock we realized that was not to be. Before us stretched a vast army of goblins. They’d surrounded the fort completely, cutting off any chance of escape. These damned creatures continue to harry the peoples of the north! It was with difficulty that I finally acceded to Malosian’s words and turned away from the sight below. Though my arm hangs limp at my side, useless, and damned annoying even in the attempts to hold these pages open as I write these words, I vowed that I would return to the Fort. Damn this arm of mine, these aches that still won’t relent!
We are but a half a day from the grove of the Forest Lord, a place where Malosian believes that he can replenish his magic and help return us to his Sanctuary within the walls of Watchgap Fort. I know the knights will be able to hold out against the threat. I’ve heard it said that when defending a wall, one man can hold off ten attackers. I’m sure that the knights will hold the fort until we return, but I have to wonder, will the addition of our group sway the battle? It is likely that this may be the last of our story, that we return to a pending grave. If that be so, we shall see. I’ll be sure to take as many of them as I can and submit them to the judgment of The Halls. I’ll find solace in hearing their screams as we each await the bargaining of our souls.