For being an uncouth assortment of rebels and beasts, the camps of the Unchained are relatively… organized. There is a legion of kobolds with, would you believe it, some sort of crowned king. There are many large, brutal orcs with weapons and trophies, there are trolls and there are some humans as well. All of them are somehow managing to work together while arguing with each other, no one really seems to be in charge except for a very loud orc that yells at everyone alike.
I have kept to the outskirts of the… I do not know what to call it, camp, base, none of them quite do the layout justice. I figure, out of sight, out of mind, that sort of thing while spying on everyone to get the measure of this gathering. I overheard a conversation between two Gnolls about their assassin’s guild preparing an attack on one of the other Gnoll groups present. With any luck, these yahoos will tear themselves apart before they ever get around to attacking us.
I am not holding out hope for that, though.
They seem to believe that controlling the Rifts and the Fortresses thereby gives them control over magic itself. As what I have learned, this could be true enough. Magic is a tool, as I have been trying to teach you for years, neither evil nor good until you use it for such a purpose. If these creatures were to gain control of the Rifts, I fear they will use it for violence and bloodshed.
I think I have seen enough. What began as an innocent quest for history and knowledge has rapidly become a mission for military intelligence and I feel a heavy burden I thought to be free of falling once again upon me. Today I begin my search for a Rift back home, to Eidolon, to the Order. As much faith as I have in you, and the new friends and allies we have gained, I am needed more there than I am out in the wilderness chasing shadows of the past.
