[Wigmund]

A foul being recounts that which has led to today...
For many years I have plotted for these coming events...
Many years of scheming and betraying all who would put their trust in me...

Oh dread Lord Erane Severangel, how have I worked to free you from the infernal prison you were seal within so many generations ago...

Did I not set the dread beasts upon the great civilization of Besmar Tarmid so that their foolish queen who set out settlers to the locations in which adamantine may be found along with the pits that seal you and your kindred?

How much amusement was wrought as I myself unlocked many of the seals and gates that allowed the dragons, titans and other beasts to approach that which my former kindred called the Mountainhomes and how much panic and despair was unleashed as the knights and defenders of that decadent fortress found that their gates and other fortifications had been compromised to allow death in those hallowed halls?

Did you not reveal all of this to me my Lord? Did you not say that there would be settlers that ended up above the very pit in which you have been sealed? Did you not reveal to me that you would release an artifact of your own craftmanship, to be manufactured in ways most unholy, to be found in within the settlement? And did you not intend for me to hear of this artifact so that I may seek out the wretched site and work at corrupting all who would reside there so that they may unseal your pit?

You did and it has come to pass...
...
...
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And then it went wrong...
I have failed you my Lord. But I have not forsaken my task of unsealing you so that the world may know the true terror of your reign.

When you released your artifact, it was received by the leader of the outpost known as 'Workgill', truly a wretched place. But I quickly arrived and hid amongst the wilds that surrounded the place - satisfying my urges with the innocent beings that resided in the lands below the place and recruiting in the lands above.

The one who received your gift was known as 'Thadius'. He has not deciphered the true intentions of your work and he regards it as little more than an enchanted inventory. The fool! But I have seen him become twisted by the presence of the gift - what he and the others of Workgill call the 'Economicon' - such a pitiful name for so powerful an artifact created by the true lord of all the lands. They deserve far worse than anything I can torment them with, how I will delight in seeing this place be the first to burn when you stride the lands!

But fear not, all has not fallen through my Lord. I have twisted the thoughts of many at the fort. The second overseer of the outpost, a corpulent carpenter, had listened to the dark dreamings I sent and moved the fort closer to your pit. Then he listened further - without ever suspecting a thing! - and sent miners out to probe the deepest reaches of the earth to find your tomb.

And how I rejoiced when they found you my Lord, but my joy quickly turned to anger as they presumed to reseal your enclosure with a mere stone floor! How dare they! But they still found you my Lord, and even know, your power leaks into the fortress, twisting the thoughts of all that reside there - including the Queen who arrived not long after they found you...she presumed to come here because of the treasures they discovered. What treasures shall she soon reveal in when you can finally be set free my Lord!

Do not think I have done nothing but use my dark arts on this miserable place my Lord. I have resumed my favorite tricks of baiting the dark races and other foul beasts into seeking out this place for blood and conquest. The goblins have been uncessing in their attempts to break the will of the lost souls, but they have proven to be resilient and blood now soaks the grounds around this land...so much more sacrifices for your honor than even I could have anticipated. The fat carpenter even had his eye sacrificed - how delicious...I wish I could have found the arrow that took it so I could enjoy that feast.

There has also been a lost Knight of Besmar Tarmid who ran the outpost, then left in a fruitless attempt to find other survivors of the kingdom...let's just say he provided many days feast and an appropriate sacrifice and a new totem so that I may communicate with you better my Lord.

Now...now...there seems to be a dark undercurrent in the fortress my Lord. They grow restless from the constant fighting with the goblin raiders and the undead that populate the lands above you. I have received word that some discuss plans to unseal your pits so that they may try to defeat whatever demons crawl out - the foolish bravado! How they will weep as your glorious presence is revealed and how they will tear out their own tongues and gouge out their own eyes in reverence of you my Lord.

But fear not my Lord, I have not forsaken your gift...even now I watch over it and through it twist the mind of its holder.

How I long to strangle him in his sleep so that I may have possession of what should have been gifted unto me...