13th of Flamerule, 1491

Rousing from our long rest, Tolarin discovered that his gloves had magically given him the strength of an ogre! He seems uneasy about it, though: I don’t think the little fellow is comfortable with the unfamiliar power.

We headed westward into the labyrinth. While Brick tried to open a northern door, Tegan passed through charred, partially melted doors to the south, into a large, ruined workshop, and found a brazier glowing with an eerie green flame… The Forge of Spells! Eureka! The room was guarded by a summoned beholderkin, who tried to parley. Tolarin brusquely rejected its questioning, so it attacked, casting an evil paralytic eye upon the halfling.

Gunx, of course, rushed to defend his brother, punching the eye tyrant like it was a speed bag. It was then that I came into the room, just as Tolarin was shaking off his stasis. The monster zapped magical fear and doubt at Gunx too, but the dragonborn monk permitted it all to pass over him and through him. Learned Jorad then joined us, helpfully identifying the beast as a ‘spectator’: now we were finally focused to defeat the named terror. Tolarin finished it off with a swing of his quarterstaff, knocking it out of existence. The little halfling monk was horrified to think he had vaporized it with his magical strength, though I suspect it just retreated to its native plane.

On a worktable, we found two treasures. “Lightbringer”, the holy Lathanderite mace described in the religious pamphlet I found tucked inside the Journal of Orman; and “Dragonguard”, an enchanted breastplate that was only briefly mentioned in the dwarvish tome. Tolarin removed his magical gauntlets, and gave them to Gunx, who evidently has no qualms against using performance enhancing gloves. The halfling took an immediate shine to Lightbringer; certainly, a much finer weapon than his crude wooden quarterstaff.

I suggested Brick deserved to wear Dragonguard, but he insisted his simple chainmail shirt would protect him better than the fancy breastplate, and so I donned the ornate magical armour myself. I must admit, though gold dragons are not really my style, it’s a remarkably crafted piece of enchanted smithery, and it fits my form surprisingly well.

We continued down a set of stairs, and came to another set of ruined doors which I managed to budge open. Beyond, the charred room contained beds, bookcases, and an obnoxious nerd-wraith. While Tegan attempted to confuse the evil spirit, the other cunts let their attacks fly, with Jorad’s eldritch blasts and Tolarin’s blazing Lightbringer seemingly having the greatest effect. I joined the fray, flinging fizzling force flecks from my fingers for full effect, as Tegan and Brick finished it off.

Searching the room, we learned that it was the lair of Mormesk. Among his stacks of history books, we discovered eleven hundred copper, one hundred sixty silver, fifty electrum, and three diamonds worth one hundred gold each. We also found a mysterious map, that seems to detail the location of some rather valuable rarities, and a fine platinum filigreed wooden smoking pipe, which Gunx immediately claimed for his personal use, since he was out of rolling papers.

With such a considerable haul of treasure before our eyes, we decided to quit while we were ahead. We packed it all up and headed back to Phandalin. Our epic quest is complete, and every cunt in our fellowship has a magic item of their own! We have truly gained much experience and treasure by bringing dire misfortune to others, in Beshaba’s belligerent name, klaatu barada nikto amen!

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