Excerpt from the Diary of mage Vaelor Drakestone of the Arcana Tower
(The leather-bound journal is aged, its pages filled with hastily written notes, arcane symbols, and diagrams. The handwriting shifts from precise to frantic, as if the writer grew increasingly desperate.)
My search for the Rod of Resurrection has led me to a most unexpected revelation.
I came across something called The Drowned Archive—a sunken, semi-flooded vault that was once a center of trade between planes.
It is now abandoned, its halls filled with waterlogged books, broken trade ledgers, and forgotten artifacts.It was here I found tomes speaking of a lost method to bypass planar locks, hidden within a ritual using four relics of significance.
Buried in their archives, I uncovered an old tome, "T reatises on the Passage Beyond", detailing the activation of a forgotten portal.
The author—unknown—makes reference to an "Eclipsed V ault" and a door that defies place and time.
The passage is obscured in metaphor , but it speaks of:
"Iron’s decree,
light’ s revelation,
gold’ s desire,
and blood’ s price
—laid upon the forgotten seal, with words unbroken."
These are not mere symbols. These are objects— keys —meant to power the portal itself.
The tome describes their placement in a diamond formation upon the activation seal.
Each object must be laid in a precise order , and five phrases spoken, lest the magic collapse upon itself.
The clues from the tome mention first, there was might, then the path was lit. Gold filled their hands, but the price was paid in blood.
The cycle continues.
The deal is the deal.
I have unraveled the placement of the artifacts to align as follows:
Represents power ,
law, and strength,
placed at the "top" position.
The sun rises in the east,
revealing hidden paths.
The light must be placed in this direction.
Gold, wealth, and greed sit in the west, where the light of day diminishes.
Blood represents the final price paid, the inevitable end, positioned at the bottom.
The sequence of phrases, cryptic yet weighted with power , is as follows:
- "From iron, law is born."
- "Light reveals the path unseen."
- "What is given in greed is never truly owned."
- "The price is always paid in blood."
- "By bargain struck, the way is opened."
Should the words be spoken out of turn, the portal will resist, sealing itself tighter.
I suspect misalignment could be worse—potentially triggering defensive magics or summoning an unintended force.
(new page)
It seems I am not the only one searching for this relic of bygone days.
From time to time, I have glimpsed a mysterious female shade of unknown origin trailing my path.
I do not yet know her purpose, but on more than one occasion, I have overheard her murmuring to herself—one name surfacing again and again: Iris Blackhand.
(The next part is too messed with to read, before the text once more continues)
The Rod was within my reach—only to slip through my fingers like sand in an hourglass.
I watched from the veil of my invisibility spell as the treasure hunter presented his prize to the merchants of the Ivory Compass.
A man of ragged leathers and a scarred brow , he bore the wear of one who has defied the odds too many times.
He spoke with the arrogance of survival, demanding more gold for his find—the Rod of Resurrection, along with the four artifacts meant to bind the portal.
They paid him, of course. They always do. Gold speaks louder than caution.
I followed unseen as they locked the relics away , hidden within a double false bottom of a blackwood crate, lined with lead to obscure divination.
They believe they have secured a mere artifact of healing. They do not understand the power they now covet. So I marked it.
With whispered incantations and a steady hand, I etched a glyph of tracing upon the interior wood—invisible to the eye, undetectable by common wards.
So long as the crate remains whole, I can track it. But should it be opened, the spell will unravel, and I will lose my tether .
( The words “Arven T al’shiris” are in haste scribbled on the paper).
The Ivory Compass has unknowingly become my courier .
I must move before another set of hands interferes. I dare not proceed alone, for unseen eyes stalk me from the shadows, and crimson gazes pierce the depths of darkness.
The Pillar of T ruth will want to know what I have seen. I only hope I am not already too late.
(The entry ends abruptly . The next page is torn out.)