The Chronicles of Kvothe: Into the Sunless Citadel
Ah, Fallcrest—a town on the edge of civilization, where the people are tough, the ale is passable, and opportunities for fortune and glory are always just a job away. That’s where our little tale begins, with none other than Banner, leader of The Riders of the Watch, coming to us with a problem. Three of his Riders—Braford, Sharwyn, and Rylan—had gone missing while looking into livestock getting torn up south of town near Kuiper’s ranch. Sounded like easy coin to me.
We headed south, had a chat with Kuiper, and got word that some kobolds had been sneaking around the Kalton Wood across the White Rock River. Seemed like a lead. The road wasn’t without its troubles, though—twig blights ambushed us one night. Nasty little plant creatures with claws sharper than you’d expect. We hacked them apart, but had no idea what they were at the time. Another mystery for later.
Following the trail south, we found a ravine with the ruins of an old sunken fortress: the Sunless Citadel. As soon as we got inside, we found a huge locked door covered in dragon markings. Promising, but sealed tight. So, we moved on and ran into the local kobold population. That’s where we met Meepo. Poor sod was barely respected by his own kind, but he saw us as a way back into the tribe’s good graces. He took us to their queen, who made us a deal—find their missing white wyrmling, stolen by goblins, and she’d reward us. The goblins were also where the missing Riders had last been seen. Convenient, no?
So we did what any brave and noble band of adventurers would do—we went to war with the goblins. There were traps, patrols, and a nest of giant rats. That’s where we found Rylan, or what was left of him. The rats had dragged him there, but whether they killed him or just scavenged the remains, we couldn’t say. We took his Rider’s Ring to bring back to Banner.
Pressing forward, we found the wyrmling in a goblin storeroom, free of its cage and making a mess of the place. It took one look at Meepo, decided it wasn’t fond of the little guy, and tore him apart before anyone could react. Quite the dramatic exit for Meepo, really. The rest of us put the dragon down, boxed it up, and dragged it back to the kobolds. The queen was thrilled. She paid up, gave us the key to the dragon door, and confirmed the Riders had gone deeper into goblin territory.
Now, I don’t like goblins. Never have, never will. So when we stormed their little stronghold, I was all for wiping them out. The warriors fell quickly, and the survivors—including the women and whelps—barricaded themselves in a room. I wanted to finish the job, but Agatha, ever the pious one, wasn’t having it. She preached about Torag, mercy, and not butchering those who weren’t actively swinging weapons at us. The others didn’t care enough to argue, so Agatha won the day. The goblins fled, and I still say we’ll regret that later.
With the goblin forces broken, we found a pit leading even further down. With our Riders still unaccounted for, we did what we always do—tightened our belts, checked our blades, and made the plunge into the unknown.
After a well-earned rest, we descended into the pit. Down there, things got nastier. We ran into undead—a sure sign that whatever we were dealing with had long since left the realm of natural order. Worse yet, we had a run-in with a bugbear, and not just any bugbear—this one was swinging a magical longsword that crackled with lightning when it hit. It took some effort, but we put him down, and I claimed Stormcaller Blade for myself. A fitting weapon for someone with my particular flair, if I do say so.
The goblins were still a problem, but it was mostly the undead keeping us busy. In our exploration, we found a shrine dedicated to Ashardalon, some long-forgotten dragon of legend. More interestingly, a library next to the shrine contained a book on dragon lore, which we figured might help us later should we need to know more about dragons.
But all of that was just a prelude to what came next—the Sunken Grove. That’s where we finally found Sharwyn and Braford, but they weren’t themselves anymore. They had been twisted, enthralled by a druid serving a Gulthias Tree, surrounded by twig blights.
The battle that followed was nothing short of brutal. By the end of it, only one of us was still standing. We managed to kill the druid and destroy the blights, subduing Sharwyn and Braford instead of cutting them down. Once the fighting was done, we holed up in the grove to recover.
That’s when we found it—a golden apple growing from the Gulthias Tree. It seemed powerful, but none of us liked the look of that accursed tree. So, naturally, I burned it down.
As the flames consumed it, the tree split open, revealing a stone sarcophagus underneath. Well, I’m not one to ignore an interesting find, so I opened the lid. Bad call. Inside was something ancient, something that woke up with an ear-splitting shriek, transformed into mist, and vanished through cracks in the ceiling.
Agatha, ever the master of understatement, muttered, "That’s not going to come back and bite us in the butt or anything." Sometimes, she’s painfully right.
With the Grove behind us, all that remained was the return to Fallcrest with Sharwyn and Braford in tow. We also had unfinished business with the sealed dragon door, and I had every intention of seeing what lay behind it.
With the Grove behind us, we turned our attention back to the sealed dragon door. With the key in hand, we unlocked it and faced the Dragon Priest, some kind of undead horror that had been entombed for who knows how long. After a tough battle, we put it down for good and claimed the treasure inside. Among the spoils was a particularly fine Phoenix Cloak, which Agatha took as her own.
Finally, with nothing left to explore, we made the long journey back to Fallcrest. We had Riders to return, loot to sell, and a well-earned rest waiting for us. But something told me this wasn’t the last time we’d be dealing with the horrors lurking below.
To the Honored Brother Ordrik Ironheart, Priest of Torag, in the Halls of Hammerfast
May the Forge Father bless your anvil and keep your hammer steady, Ordrik. I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. It has been too long since I last wrote, but the road has been long, and the burdens of my duty heavier than I expected when I set out. There is much to tell.
After leaving Fallcrest, my companions and I undertook a great venture into the ruins of the Sunless Citadel. We had been sent to find three missing members of the Riders of the Watch, but our search led us to an ancient place of corruption, infested with goblins, kobolds, and worse. In the depths of that cursed ruin, we uncovered a sealed dragon door and, after some trials, obtained the key to open it. Behind the door, we fought a monstrous Dragon Priest—undead, of course, because what ruin isn’t haunted by something best left forgotten? The battle was fierce, but we prevailed. Among the spoils was a cloak infused with phoenix fire, which I have taken for myself. I find the warmth of it comforting, like the forge on a cold morning.
Upon our return to Fallcrest, we were welcomed by Banner, the Riders’ leader. He offered us work as free agents under the Riders' banner. Kvothe and Jocelin accepted, though for all Kvothe’s boasting, I suspect he will prove more trouble than he’s worth in an organization that values discipline. Still, he has a good heart buried under all that mischief. We spent some time in town, resupplying and acquainting ourselves with a strange little halfling merchant named Thistle Thornapple, who, along with his equally strange family, pointed us toward an unexplored barrow in the Barrow Downs. The barrow held its share of undead horrors and ancient traps, but we bested them and walked away with coin and knowledge, though tensions with the Winterbole Tribes still linger in that region. I expect we will cross their path again before this tale is done.
Our next task took us south, escorting a caravan to Harken at Banner’s request. There, we met a jeweler’s apprentice named Andren, whose fiancée, Jaylin, had vanished without a trace. This mystery followed us back north, where we scouted the Spiderfell in search of bandits preying on travelers. Instead, we found something far worse—Brokenskull Orcs, creatures I’ve no patience for, working alongside ettercaps and giant spiders. Were it not for a wandering druid named Oleanne and her wolves, we might not have survived the fight. She told us that the orcs and bandits had made a stronghold in the ruins of Broken Spire Keep, and worse still, some of the kidnapped travelers had been fed to the spiders. There will be a reckoning for that in time.
Back in Fallcrest, the Septarch—an odd fellow, but skilled in his craft—helped us investigate some disturbing Potions of Domination we had found among the orcs. These potions weaken the will and make the drinker susceptible to control. Who made them and why remains unclear, but their presence is troubling. Seeking answers, we returned to Broken Spire Keep, intent on clearing it out.
The battle was long and brutal. Orcs, bandits, zombies, and even a foul priest of Asmodeus stood against us. The priest slipped away into the dungeons, and though we searched, he eluded us. In the aftermath, we found Leander, an itinerant priest of Erastil, imprisoned in the keep. We also discovered a shrine to Asmodeus, which sickens me to my core. It will be Hallowed in Torag’s name, if I have anything to say about it. Deeper still, we uncovered a secret passage leading to the Underdark.
Of course, we went in.
The tunnels beneath the Keep stretched for miles, twisting and dark. We fought goblins and encountered a pair of massive stone doors, locked and requiring two keys. Further still, we came upon something I wish we had not—a Deep Dragon, asleep in the caverns. It awoke as we fled, but fortune was with us, and it did not pursue. Knowing we were unprepared for what lay ahead, we returned to Fallcrest to rest and resupply.
Now, we prepare to return. We intend to finish what we started at Broken Spire, clear out the remaining goblins and spiders, and ensure that the shrine is properly consecrated. The Lord Warden has agreed that, if we can make the Keep secure and swear fealty, it will be deeded to us. I have not yet decided whether this is the path I will take, but having a stronghold of our own would be no small advantage.
More pressing, however, is Jaylin’s fate. The Septarch scried her location—she is trapped in the depths of the Underdark, alone, with a Mindflayer watching her. You have taught me much, Ordrik, but I have never stood against such a creature before. I do not know if I am prepared.
I will write again when I can. Until then, may Torag’s light guide my hammer, and may I bring his justice to the dark places of the world.
Agatha Ironheart
Journal of Jocelin, Knight of the Riders of the Watch
Right. So, I ain’t much for writing, but Agatha says keeping a journal helps a knight remember important things. So here it is. What’s been happening lately? Well, a lot. Too much, honestly.
We went back into the tunnels under Broken Spire Keep. Booger and Leander went back to Fallcrest, and Oleanne stayed behind to keep an eye on the place. Seems fair, since last time we left the keep alone, it got swarmed with spiders and goblins. Anyway, we pressed on, following the path that Marcus—the evil priest of Asmodeus—took when he ran off like a coward. Found some spider-riding goblins along the way, which was just as terrible as it sounds. We fought ‘em, cleared the area, then went back into the Underdark. Can’t say I was happy about that part.
Then we ran into some Brokenskull Orcs with an ogre. Didn’t seem like a fight we wanted to take head-on, so we told ‘em we were slavers and looking to make a deal. I let Kvothe do most of the talking, since he’s good at making things up. Worked well enough—they led us to their camp, thinking they’d get some ‘slaves’ out of it. But they tried to turn the tables on us in the middle of the night. Zarah spotted ‘em getting ready to jump us, and we managed to get the upper hand. We even took one of the orcs prisoner, thinking we could get some answers out of him.
And then—well, then the weirdest thing happened. There was this sound, deep in my head, like a hammer pounding on the inside of my skull. I just went blank. Next thing I know, hours had passed, and Agatha and the orc were just as out of it as me. The others were freaked out, which, y’know, makes sense. They killed the orc before he could wake up and start trouble, then Sharwyn pulled out some fancy magic that let us hide in a tiny pocket of space until we all came to.
We had no idea what that sound was, but we weren’t about to keep pushing forward blindly. So, we went back to Broken Spire Keep. Turns out, we weren’t the only ones who heard it—Fallcrest did, too. Agatha and I being knocked out? That happened to a lot of people. Not great. The Lord Warden put the city on high alert, and the Septarch started digging into it. Turns out, whatever it was, it came from deep, deep underground—way lower than we’ve been. Not reassuring.
We had some business to deal with in Fallcrest. Kvothe traded that fancy Golden Apple to Voren the Green, the head wizard, in exchange for spells. Leander offered to Hallow the Asmodeus shrine back at Broken Spire, but we’d need to get the right stuff for the ritual. And speaking of magic, Thistle had some enchanted armor for sale. Problem was, the armor had a weird side effect—it permanently changed whoever wore it. I figured magic armor was magic armor, so I bought it. And now I’m a woman. Huh.
The others were surprised, but honestly, it hasn’t been that big of a deal. Armor fits fine, sword swings the same, so what’s there to fuss about? Maybe my family will have something to say about it later, but that’s a problem for future Jocelin.
Next up, we’re heading back to Harken. Andren might have something of Jaylin’s, and Voren thinks he can scry her better if he’s got something personal of hers. I don’t like the way this is shaping up. The Septarch saw a Mindflayer in his last vision, and if there’s anything worse than brain noises that knock you out, it’s a creature that actually eats brains. I’d rather fight a dozen orcs than deal with something like that.
But I’m a knight, and knights don’t run from a fight. So, I guess we’re doing this. Torag help us.
Jocelin
To Banner, Leader of the Riders of the Watch
Subject: How We Lost Our Horses (Also, We Found Jaylin)
Banner,
Kvothe here, with Jocelin looking over my shoulder to make sure I don’t make us sound too impressive. (As if that’s possible.) We’ve been very busy, and by busy, I mean getting into trouble, uncovering conspiracies, and, yes, losing all our horses. But we’ll get to that.
Jaylin’s Locket & the Wizard That Fell Out of the Sky
Our search for Jaylin led us to Harken, where we met up with Andren. Nice enough fellow, completely distraught over his missing fiancée. He gave us a bronze locket that belonged to her, which we planned to use for scrying. While we were at the Hungry Hound Inn, we met Freya, a wizard from Koningstad who claims she ended up here due to a magical accident. She’s useful, if a bit odd, and we decided to let her tag along.
(Jocelin’s Note: Why are all the wizards we meet weird?)
(Kvothe’s Response: It’s part of their charm. Or a requirement.)
Scrying and the First Hints of Trouble
Back in Fallcrest, the Septarch did his spooky magic and scried on Jaylin. Turns out she was underground, in a tunnel with iron cart tracks. Oh, and there was a Brokenskull Orc just hanging around. The Septarch figured this was likely the abandoned copper mines in the Dawnforge Mountains, north of Harken.
We were already uneasy about that, but on the way back to Harken, things got worse. We ran into a troop of Iron Circle mercenaries, led by none other than Marcus, the priest of Asmodeus. Rather than get into a fight we weren’t prepared for, we wisely turned around and reported back to you. As you confirmed, Marcus is a big deal in the Iron Circle, which pretty much guarantees that they’re behind the kidnappings and Broken Spire Keep’s operations. We just need proof to connect the dots.
(Jocelin’s Note: We should have just fought them. I bet I could take Marcus.)
(Kvothe’s Response: I admire your confidence. I also enjoy being alive.)
The Mines, the Orcs, and the Ogre That Smelled Like Regret
After resting in Fallcrest, we set out for Harken, spent the night, and then headed into the Dawnforge Mountains to track down those abandoned copper mines. Things went well until we actually got there.
We left our horses and extra gear at the entrance (big mistake), then fought our way through a horde of Brokenskull Orcs and their pet ogres. It was a rough fight, but in the end, we captured Dorakor, the orc leader. After some “convincing” (read: intimidation and threats), we learned:
(Jocelin’s Note: Definitely not ominous at all.)
(Kvothe’s Response: Right? Completely normal underground toll system.)
The Creepy Spear & the Underground Lake
After dealing with Dorakor, we looted the orc treasure hoard and found a spear that gave us all bad vibes. We don’t know where it came from, but Uncle Bill later confirmed it’s really nasty. Probably cursed. Possibly evil. Definitely unsettling. None of us really want to touch it.
Following the orcs’ path, we eventually reached a massive underground lake with a large boat sitting on the shore. Given that this was the place where the mysterious entity demanded sacrifices, we decided to wisely back away. There are risks worth taking, and then there’s sailing into the mouth of something that eats people for toll money.
The Lesson in Logistics (Or: How We Lost Our Horses)
Feeling very smart about avoiding an unnecessary death, we returned to the mine entrance… only to find that the escaped orcs and ogres had stolen our horses and all the gear we left behind.
(Jocelin’s Note: Kvothe, write this down in big letters—NEVER LEAVE THE HORSES UNGUARDED.)
(Kvothe’s Response: Noted. Bolded. Underlined. Maybe even carved into stone somewhere.)
That was an expensive lesson.
So, to summarize:
Heading back to Fallcrest now to regroup and return Jaylin to safety. We’ll check in once we have a plan to deal with the underground mess.
Yours in service and slightly poorer due to horse theft,
Kvothe & Jocelin