To the Honored Brother Ordrik Ironheart, Priest of Torag, in the Halls of Hammerfast

May the Forge Father keep your anvil hot and your shield unyielding, Ordrik. I write to you again, though I wish I had better tidings. The deeper we go, the darker this path becomes. There is much to tell, and I suspect you will not like most of it.

Our return to Broken Spire Keep did not go as planned. In our absence, the goblins and spiders had crept back in, like vermin scuttling to fill an empty burrow. We had to clear them out again, which was no small effort, but this time we made certain to secure the place properly. We hid our treasure in a secret chamber and left guards behind. This place may yet serve as a foothold for good, but it will not hold if we do not keep it.

Upon returning to Fallcrest, we had our spoils identified, including a spear that none of us liked the feel of. Uncle Bill, a strange but learned halfling, confirmed our suspicions. The weapon is powerful, yes, but tainted. It has an ill presence to it, and none of us wish to wield it. I know not where it came from, but it bears watching.

We also had the Septarch scry for Jaylin again. What he saw chilled us to the bone—Jaylin, alone on a stone floor, with a Mindflayer standing over her. It is one thing to fight orcs and bandits, but to face a creature that can pluck thoughts from your mind and twist your will against you—I do not like this, Ordrik. Not one bit. We are walking into something far worse than we first believed.

With this in mind, we sought an audience with the Lord Warden of Fallcrest to secure Broken Spire Keep as our own. He has agreed, but only under conditions—we must finish clearing the goblins and spiders, and we must consecrate the accursed shrine to Asmodeus. This, at least, is a task worthy of my efforts. That place will burn, and Torag’s light will take its place.

To prepare for our next descent into the tunnels beneath Broken Spire, we gathered reinforcements. Sharwyn and Braford agreed to fight with us again, and we hired three guards to hold the keep. With our company gathered, we returned to the depths, seeking the doors Dorakor spoke of—the ones leading to the so-called “crazy dwarfs.”

I do not know if the Forge Father was warning us or testing us, but just as we reached the doors, the mind sound struck again. That horrible, humming, wrenching feeling. Kvothe calls it the ‘Womp Womp,’ as if giving it a ridiculous name will make it less terrible. I, along with several others, was struck senseless for hours. When we recovered, we pressed on, unlocking the doors and stepping into whatever fate awaited us.

Ordrik, I have fought many battles. I have stood against horrors that would break lesser souls. But what we found beyond those doors... it was worse than I feared.

A massive cavern, filled with Derro, those wretched, twisted mockeries of dwarvenkind. At the far end stood a portal, already opening. And beyond that portal—Mindflayers. The Derro were bringing in more prisoners, spellcasters like Jaylin, meant for something I do not yet understand. We fought them, and though their numbers were great, we had one advantage they did not expect: Kvothe, for all his irritating ways, is quick-witted. He struck down the portal with Stormcaller before it could fully open, severing their reinforcements. We cut the Derro down before they could recover.

Among the prisoners, we found Jaylin, along with three other spellcasters—Atun, Bern, and Heinrich. But there was more. Among the Derro was a Master of the Mantis, a monk of terrible skill, covered in strange tattoos. Zarah faced him in single combat and won. The moment she struck him down, his tattoos transferred to her. It was magic, but of a kind I do not understand. She is now the Master of the Mantis, whether she sought that title or not. She seems comfortable with it, though I cannot shake the feeling that such power always carries a price.

After the battle, we were approached by a Deep Gnome named Bogani, who had been watching the Derro from the shadows. He told us that the portal had led to a place called the City of the Glass Pool, where many, many more prisoners had already been taken. Mindflayers, Kuo-Toa, Derro—it seems they are all working together, and whatever they are planning, it will not be good for the world above. Bogani offered to seek help from his people, the deep gnomes of Rockhome. He will return in seven days with word.

So now, we return to Fallcrest once more, with Jaylin and the others safe, but with a greater horror looming in the dark below us. I do not know if we are ready for what is coming, Ordrik, but I do know this: Torag has put this hammer in my hand for a reason. I will not let these monsters take another soul.

May the Forge Father watch over us all.

Agatha Ironheart