The Siege of Arcdiem

This is an excerpt from an account of the events during the siege of Arcdiem, written at an unknown time afterwards by an unknown author. It is, however, considered one of the most accurate accounts. As most do, this account focuses mainly upon the Heor Knight Taleraed sol’Bellator, lending suspicion that one of his companions, the Eo Druid, Aerlyn d’Jyu, or the Human mage, Deacon Black (later called Deacon the Black by misinformed historians), was the original author. The Knight Taleraed had been placed in command of the expedition to Diem after the Gloury’par’Heor’du’Cham, or Grand High-Elven Council of Lords, determined that Diem would be the perfect local from which to launch assaults into the Under-Dark. The Under-Dark, called Fer’caus’Maim, or Black Mother Heart, by the elves, was thought to be the homeland of the Feor’l and their Illithid allies. The party was to secure to the fortress-city of Arcdiem, either through the Baron of Diem’s vow of allegiance, or force.

The clouds screamed in vengeance. The long days of summer were torn asunder by swarms of razor shards of ice. The hellish rain glittered in the spears of sunlight that occasionally lanced through the black clouds. The party of one-thousand knights and retainers marched haggardly down the slopes of the pass.
Light shirts and hoods of mail glinted through their cloaks, heavier armor stowed away because of the weather. Horses were laden with goods and belongings, blindfolded and led by their harnesses. Swords dangled at waists, bows were kept strung and ready beneath cloaks, and eyes watched every gully and ridge suspiciously. In the distance, a forest rose before them, and looming above that, a trio of gray towers reached for the ebon sky.
Taleraed marched at the forefront of the small army. He paused briefly and turned to the human walking beside him. “How long until we reach of the forest, Deacon?” he shouted against the storm. Deacon glanced upwards, his arm shielding his eyes from the storm’s onslaught. His cloak snapped sharply in the wind, and he reached to restrain it as he leaned back towards the Heor.
“Two hours, a third that time if the storm lets up soon.”
Nodding to himself, Taleraed pressed forward, followed closely by the slight form of Aerlyn. She grasped the corners of her cloak, more to keep it from whipping behind her violently in the wind than to ward off the cold of the storm. The other druids in the party acted with similar indifference towards the cold. The ice never seemed to touch them, and the watery muck didn’t seem to grasp at their boots as it did everyone else’s. The rosy blush upon her cheeks seemed the only sign that her body recognized the cold.
The Knights and Deacon on the other hand, shivered against the driving hail violently, ice caking in armor and layering on clothes. Deacon himself had had to chip ice out of his beard each morning with his dagger. A sight that greatly amused the clean-shaven Knights. They generally shut up when he simply shook his black cloak to rid it of inch think ice.
The Heor and Eo, excluding the druids, of the coastal provinces were taking the frosty weather the worst. Many had frostbite, some would lose toes or fingers, even with the cleric’s and druid’s aid.
Gradually, the wide well worn pass road wound it’s way down the mountains slope and into the wide Vale of Diem. Once elven held lands, the vale had been overrun by Feor’l some two-thousand years past. A mere three hundred years ago, the ancestors of Garrath Greymoore, the current Baron of Diem, had seized the Feor’l mines and keep that guarded the vale.
Finally, the Knights entered the forest. Almost instantly, the storm ceased it’s mad howling, dying into a light snowfall. The menacing clouds faded into a light cotton gray. Aerlyn, as well as the other druids, smiled slightly. “What’s so funny?” Deacon questioned sourly.
Aerlyn’s smile turned into a truly delighted grin again, “Can you not feel it, mage? We’ve been watched since we crossed the pass.”
Taleraed looked suddenly alarmed, “Why did you not mention this before, Aerlyn?
The druid shrugged. “We weren’t sure. The storms sudden abatement confirms our suspicions.”
“Any idea who would be watching us?” Taleraed asked.
“The good baron of course.” Aerlyn replied, her head cocked to one side with a you-should-know-this-already look.