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[Dormack Shander]

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This seems to be the safest hour to come here. I have left my guard post to come to the well, it’s here I must clear my mind. My mind, my muscles, my patience are extremely impaired at the moment. I have spent the night fighting, guarding, setting posts, and looking for common allies.

Earlier this evening I was caught up on recent events. Seems Zalar failed at guarding the artifacts that we worked so hard to retrieve. A curse has been laid upon the Order, weakening all of our undead. Bailos, Zalar, Darrien, are useless as of now. Lord Admoreth seems to be missing; our luck seems to be decreasing.

We were trapped on the hill, two able fighters, Darmug and I had to try and fight through their ranks. Five men, four fighters arrived upon Charnel Hill. Zalar was engaged with a fighter, I heard him whimper he wasn’t strong enough. I stepped in. It wasn’t long till Zalar fell and more of the paladins came to attack. All of them pursued me for a bit, until only two kept on my trail. I know the name of one, Leshok, the other I’m not sure of. I have Leshok to thank for finally beating me down; he kept on my trail the longest. I had to create a distraction, and accomplished.

Ivy has stolen their hammer; this apparently saves us from any more rituals. If it weren’t for Ivy, our counter attack would have failed. Darmug and I stormed the hill, the first man, an archer, attempted to stop us. From the shadows erupted the blade of Ivy; at precisely the same time the blades of Darmugs and mine pierced him. He fell within the blink of an eye. The other two hid in the halls of the maze, it wasn’t long until we found them and took them out. Etheng.

Dormack takes a moment to look from the walls; he lowers his head slightly peering down the dark tunnel all the water down to the well. His fist clenched tightly as his side, his armor torn slightly. Closing his eyes he continues on thinking of the recent events.

We now hide in a tower in Umbra; the paladins have called a crusade on us. The slave Isil and I set out to find people who will fight by our sides. My pride is slowly evaporating while we hide from these enemies. It’s quite knowledgeable that we’re short on able warriors however. Darriens nephew test’s my patience to an unbelievable degree. He seems to have knowledge on how to fix these problems. Until than we will fight. Our defenses are weak, but my sword is strong.

Before the end of this, the paladins will know the name of Dormack Shander. They will know the name of all The Ebon Skull warriors. If they don’t come for us, I’ll come for them. The wraith of Oblivion does not stop, whether or not our link with him is broken. As for this paladin “Leshok” I will take up our unfinished business. Zalar failed in defeating him, but I will not.

Dormack exhales slowly, speaking quietly down to the well.

“Soon, I will cut out your ears, eyes and tongue. You will go to the underworld def, blind and dumb. The other dead will know who you are, they will know you are the fool that opposed the power of The Order of the Ebon Skull.”

Dormack wrap’s his clammy hand around the staff of his bardiche. He raises the bardiche straight in the air, slamming the butt of the handle into the ground. The ground cracks ever so slightly from the mere force.

“Etheng.”