My return to Ar’Sel was short-lived. Within a few days of returning from the ruins of Durkarak, my presence was requested by Sword and Shield at the behest of a dwarf. When I arrived, I was surprised to see that I would no longer working with most of my former companions. In fact, only Abard seemed to be part of the new group. Last I heard, Shevalie had some kind of personal issue to attend to, and Osrik... well, I think it’s his fault that I’m getting tangled in the upcoming affair.
My new companions and I met the dwarf and Osrik and listened to his request. It appears that the Dwarven King has been stricken with a supernatural illness and that it somehow relates to a stolen artifact and civil conflict. While the internal affairs of the dwarves doesn’t appeal to me, a magical plague upon dwarven royalty can not be ignored. Arcane workings of this magnitude and subtlety should not be in the hands of mortals.
Within hours of returning to my room for rest and meditation, an unknown assailant broke in and foolhardily attacked me. Within moments, I dispatched the fool and his form crumbled to dust. Rek, one of my new companions appeared to have a similar encounter and we rushed to the tavern where I suspected Abard was under his own assault. Our enemies stood little chance, and soon all of the foes were ashen piles upon the ground. The dwarves’ suspicion that a conspiracy was behind their plight became all too real as we discovered Osrik gravely injured and the visiting dwarf emissary slain elsewhere in town. This was when I realized a line of dead men had formed and were simply awaiting my arrival.