In the Dwarven Ruins

I have lost track of how long I have been in this accursed vale. Has it been two weeks? Longer?The days blend into the nights and blend into the days again. It's worse down here in the underground. The lack of light is disconcerting. The creatures that dwell here should be left well enough alone. The only good of being down here is that I can't see the malaise of the surface. Whatever curses the Vale above has yet to really make impact down here. Will it ever? Or is the lack of blight a further clue as to what goes on above? Are those who dwell down here in the dark responsible?

I fear that whatever is tainting the land is taking it's hold on me. My thoughts turn to blood and violence. Depression and anger have emerged in my soul. No, they have always been there, it's just that the feelings can no longer be contained. I am losing control. I have become less cautious and more aggressive. In a sense I have to be, considering my companions.

Soranna is able enough as our fighter-in-residence. However, at times she seems a bit reluctant in her actions. I would wager to say that she is not used to the lawless wild where the beasties run rampant and bandits don't yield at the sight of the city guard. Still, I have seen her cleave many an adversary in twain. If I am to be more reckless then perhaps I can learn a thing or two from her. The more I learn the art of battle the more deadly I can become to those who stand against us.

Trevor's shield is an apt metaphor for the man himself. He's great at taking the brunt of our enemies impact. He's even greater at healing when those enemies break through which unfortunately happens all too often as Trevor is slow and can be caught flat on his ass. He's an unusual personality to pin down. One day he's an overbearing buffoon spouting off at any and every opportunity about the god of light Hieronius. The next day he will be sullen and unengaged. I tend not to trust those with split personalities. I tend to trust organized religions even less. However, his goodness and loyalty to his fellow adventurers seems to shine through and I don't mind hiding behind a shield to stab at the enemy. I just need to make sure he never calls down the light of Hieronius to smite me.

Wolfwood the Ranger we met on our way to Fort Rafius. He's excellent with the bow but rarely gets his hands dirty with melee. Listen, if I was as good with it as he is I'd probably stay back as well. But, I wouldn't constantly whine about returning to the fey grove while doing it. I appreciate the man joining in and helping out, but I wonder how far into the muck he is willing to go. When it gets too deep will he stand and fight or will he head back to the grove? (Stupid fey.)

And then there's Veekay, our tough little gnome. I may laugh at his silly illusions, but to the enemies they are no laughing matter (except for that Stone Elemental who found it all hysterical) There's nothing like watching half of them flee from a make-believe dragon. And for those that stay? Well, then ol' Veekay has a lightning bolt ready to fry those poor saps.Of course, when he is out of spells then he is out of luck as he's not much of a fighter. What he needs to do is get his crossbow fixed so he can lie back and lay some cover for me

So I continue to delve further into this mystery, throwing myself into harm's way. These companions of mine will have to do. I hope that we can figure this thing out. I don't know how much longer I can stay in this vale before I too am cursed.