From the Private Annals of the Church of Pelor.
Transcribed by Beltak, Scribe to His Radiant Servant, Tremak the Plush.
The 25th day of Alturiak in the Year of the Sudden Journey.

The town was a hive of activity and hubbub yesterday with many a story told and retold at Rindall’s return. He was alone, without Gilmorril, and quite badly injured and exhausted, but his stubborn dwarven nature would not allow him to rest until after he had reported back to the Town Council about the path to the east.

Fortunately, I was party to the Town Council meeting to keep notes, so I have a first hand account from the paladin, and do not have to rely on the second-hand gossip, mainly from the barkeep Skillet, that is causing such a fuss around the town.

Once the snows had melted the elf scout Gilmorril, and his firm friend the dwarven paladin Rindall had set out to explore further east than the gorge wall they had encountered. After following the remains of what they believed to be an ancient road past the gorge wall gate they had then turned to the north a few leagues further on, through a forested region, intent on gradually circling back towards the town.

Some distance into the forest they came across a large circular depression in the ground. Cautiously scrambling down the sides of the depression the pair noticed that the earth in the centre of the circle appeared to have been freshly dug over, perhaps by animals looking for water or food. Here and there within the earth were what appeared to be large animal bones, as though something had lain here to rest and never left.

The pair spent some days near the depression, gradually pulling out older bones still and trying to piece the puzzle together, but they could not.

On one of the nights they were attacked by wolves and in the darkness and confusion of the melee were separated. Rindall managed to fend off the wolves attacking him despite being wounded badly in the process – slaying two and chasing another away, but did not find his friend. He stayed at the camp for another two nights, but then decided to head for Blackengorge. To his dismay his friend had not returned.

Rindall is vowing to head back out into the wilderness once he is recovered, but the Town Council have forbidden it for the moment. They wish to give Gilmorril time to return, if he is still alive, before any such search is made for him.

Already rumours have started around town about the depression being the site of the burial of an ancient dragon – rumours chiefly led by Skillet – although Rindall does not believe this to be the case. In any case, the excitement of the find is tempered by the loss, for the moment, of one of our key brethren. May Pelor’s light shine out for Gilmorril and direct him safely back home.

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