To Master Senzan of the Azure Leaf Monastery, Winterbole Forest

Master,

I send this letter with a troubled mind, seeking wisdom from the one who first guided my hands and steadied my thoughts. Much has happened since I left the monastery, and I feel I am walking a path that I do not yet understand. I hope your insight will help me find clarity.

I travel now with warriors and spellweavers, people of many different ways. Together, we seek to bring justice where we can and to stand against the growing shadows beneath this land. The world is loud, full of motion, and I have struggled to hold to the stillness you taught me. But even in the chaos, I remember your lessons, and they have carried me through many trials.

We descended into the deep places of the world, where the air is heavy with secrets. We faced wretched creatures—Derro, twisted mockeries of dwarves, and Mindflayers who whisper their will into the minds of others. There are Kuo-Toa too, fish-things with strange gods. These creatures have conspired against the surface, stealing people away into the dark. They had built a portal, a doorway to a city beneath the waters, where more horrors surely wait. We shattered the portal before it could be fully opened. I do not know what we stopped, but I know it was something foul.

In that place, I met an enemy who has changed me. He was a Derro, but more than that—he was a Master of the Mantis, bearing the tattoos of the style. He fought with a discipline I did not expect from his kind, and I met him in battle, fist against fist. When he fell, something happened. The tattoos that marked him left his skin and moved onto mine. I did not ask for them. I do not know what they mean. But they are mine now, and I feel them beneath my skin like a second voice that is not quite my own.

What does this mean, Master? The title of Master of the Mantis should not be taken, should it? It should be earned. And yet, here I stand, bearing the marks of a tradition I have only glimpsed. Is this a burden I must carry? Or is it a lesson I have yet to understand?

There is no time to dwell on it now. We prepare for another trial—trolls, many of them, and they will not fall easily. We must prove our strength to the Deep Gnomes who dwell in the darkness. They have no reason to trust outsiders, and yet we need their aid. I do not know what will come of this, only that my fists will be tested again soon.

Beyond this, much has happened.

After we destroyed the portal, we learned more from Bogani, our Deep Gnome guide. He confirmed that the Mindflayers, Derro, and Kuo-Toa are working together and that many prisoners had already been taken through the portal. We may have delayed their plans, but we have not stopped them. The Deep Dragon that took over the Sunken Grove can become incorporeal—a troubling thought. Bogani believes that if we earn the trust of Filani, the Deep Gnome Priestess, she and her people may aid us in our battle against the darkness below. We agreed to meet him again in seven days to see where things stand.

We took the rescued prisoners back to Broken Spire Keep and then made our way to Fallcrest. The guards at the Keep reported goblin and spider activity in the area, though no direct attacks. One of the prisoners, Atun, revealed something chilling—prisoners had been sacrificed to a woman in the underground lake in order to gain passage. We suspect this “woman” is a hag, but we have no proof yet.

Our time in Fallcrest was not restful. We were attacked in the night by unknown assailants. We believe Marcus, the priest of Asmodeus, was among them, though we did not confirm it at the time. Regardless, we killed our attackers, looted what they carried, and hid the bodies. If it was Marcus, he will trouble us no longer, but the Iron Circle remains.

We returned Jaylin, one of the rescued prisoners, to the Septarch, and saw to various business in town. Sharwyn and Braford left to investigate troubling news from Fastormel—a strange mist had overtaken the town. Freya rejoined us, returning a wand she had borrowed, and we made our way back to Broken Spire Keep.

We arrived to find the Keep’s gate off its hinges and our food stores stolen, though our hidden treasure remained untouched. While securing the area, we spotted a bugbear watching us from the trees. He fled when approached, but we know he and the goblins are working together. They harass us, track us, and no doubt plan to kill us if given the chance.

With this in mind, we returned to the tunnels, where we met Bogani once more. His superiors required a test of worth from us—a challenge to prove ourselves. We are to eliminate a tribe of twelve trolls that have overrun the Deep Gnome mushroom farms. We agreed to the task, but after assessing our strength, we decided we were not ready. Bogani will return every seven days for the next four weeks to check on our progress. We returned to Broken Spire Keep to prepare, knowing that each moment we delay is another moment for the forces below to gather their strength.

Master, my path grows stranger with each step. I do not yet know where it leads, only that I must walk it. If you have wisdom to spare, I would hear it.

With respect, Zarah, Wandering Fist of the Azure Leaf Monastery