So we finally made it to Pitax. After a long grueling journey from Shea O Ghoul (sp?), we barely escaped the clutches of dehydration and took a boat up the South Fork of the Horazon River. This eventually led us directly into the my hometown of Pitax. I’ve never had any desire to come back here, considering the way I left, and so far nothing has happened to dispel that foreboding notion.
The city is rife with chaos. There is a split the factions of a seemingly corrupt group of mages who have the ear of the queen, and a rebel army waiting to revolt. A flood of desperate refugees are fleeing from a bevy of hardships that have scorched the countryside. The pestilence that has swept the land has sunk in deeply here… outright pandemonium and anarchy seems inevitable.
We did happen upon a bit of luck. We arrived to the city in a panic, as our newest comrade Trurl had fallen in battle and we were eager to revive him. With little hope in sight we were aided by a seemingly benevolent and caring Wizard name Balon. He found the aid of a half-orc shaman who performed the holy ceremony in trade for our Wish scroll. Difficult to give up such a prize, but the spell was far beyond our abilities to activate, and at least it seemed to be falling into the hands of the right people. Balon is one of the major Wizards in a Council of Nine, who have major sway in the city, and claims to be the only one with good intentions. They are mighty suspicious of Sorcerer’s here and everyone seems to be able to identify me as such.
After making our rounds through the city, updating our wares and boarding up at the Golden Calf, we left a note for Balon letting him know we were anxious to aid his cause. Late that night his servant awoke us and took us to meet him. In an unfortunate twist of fate, as we approached the warehouse near his manor, it had already been set ablaze with Balon nowhere in sight. When searching around the place for clues we spotted a shadowy figure and chased it into an alleyway. He was nowhere to be found.
Without anywhere to turn to, we searched out the Shaman of Gruumsh who had revived Trurl when we first arrived. Although he was far from overjoyed to see us again (we obviously stick out like drunken dwarves in a village of high elves), he was helpful. He mentioned that the cloaked figure could have been a Duergar, who’ve been spotted in the city recently. We located some local half-orcs, who have had made the most reports of the Dark Dwarves lately. One of them had valuable information, and gave us the location of a cellar he had seen a Duergar disappear into recently.
We found the cellar and, after convincing the old man who lived there we were taking care of rodents, we entered through his cellar to find a stinky dungeon. Here we ran into some Deuger, hordes of rats that fell through the roof, and eventually came upon some sort of evil religious hall. After killing a masked acolyte we let another one get away (they all can become invisible at will). We decided to head back towards the entrance, making a small detour on the way in one last attempt to find Balon. On the way we were attacked by a Minotaur and eventually some more Deuger guards. We stupidly split up and I almost was killed in an abandoned Inn. I ran out of the room and into the streets, with the strength to cast one last spell in hopes of deterring pursuit. I awoke in a local hospital, where I currently am sitting and writing this…