The frustrations of a great mind.....

Continuing through the Hammerhold, Dalanor kept pace with the group, feeling as though he were set apart from them. He felt useless and rather weak i n comparison to them, especially considering that the Drow was at least as skilled in the arcane as he. As they ventured farther into the keep, he found his sense of pride diminishing further with each encounter that they had with their enemies. He knew how he must seem to them, and he did not blame them for coming to such a conclusion because he felt as they viewed him.

There was an emptiness that he could not explain....not because of a lack of love or any such silly thing like that....but because he felt incomplete....like something of great importance had been stripped from him. And the way he tried to decipher what it was that was lost, was muttering and talking to himself.

The troupe cut it's way through the kobolds that blocked their path, eventually gaining a new comrade along the way. While intriguing, the halfling proved to be no more that a rogue.....his tactics betraying him with every encounter they faced. He would watch the young halfling, in hopes that the small one's skills would be useful for his purposes...but until that time, he would keep the majority of his focus on Erantaelik and try to find the answers he sought in regards to the Drow's past.

After a few more encounters with the kobolds and a chance encounter with the undead, they had reached a place of great importance to the dwarves. A small temple to Moradin was where the artifact that Baerd sought was supposed to be, but, to no great surprise, it had been removed. Dalanor, never one to pass up the blessing of a god, placed his wand on the alter, muttering a small prayer. He may have fallen from Correlon's grace, but he sought a chance at redemption from the deity, and now, he hoped that through Moradin, the god would hear him.

Nothing of note transpired at the altar, and the troupe left, searching the rest of the keep. Eventually, Dalanor and the others reached a bridge leading towards the mine shafts and they were greeted by a bluescaled Dragonborn, a group of pesky Kobolds, headed by a chieftain, and a kobold wildmage......a deadly, nasty little bugger.

The Wildmage proved to be a problem, but nevertheless, the group survived against the kobolds and the deagonborn, though not before Dalanor was dealt a serious wound. He blacked out as he fell to one knee, and suddenly, his mind was filled with a soft, almost distant voice.......

"Dalanor, you have come far and done much but just know, that up until now, you have not shown a willingness to redeem yourself. However, since you, in your heart, feel the need to reach out to Correlon, he has sent me, his messenger to inform you that in the coming days, you will face challenges to both your faith and spirit. He is watching, and should you prove yourself, you will return to his good graces and your true path will be revealed. I leave you now, for my time is short. In the coming days, you will be given your task to prove your worth.....Correlon wishes you well, and truly hopes to see your sincerity in your actions. I leave you now, and wish you well young mage."

With a startled look, Dalanor turned pale, having not expected any of what had just transpired. After all, he had turned from the god in anger...that much he knew, but for what reason, he could not remember. All that he knew, was that he had done something terrible and had been cast out of the feywild because of it, and now, only the mark of the forgotten remained. Through the mark, he had lost any knowledge of how to return to the feywild at will , and it seemed that his memories had been tampered with. With nothing left to turn to, he sought what was lost in hopes that answers may reveal a few details about what had happened. He felt as if something were wrong, but he knew not what. If Correlon was willing to let him prove himself, maybe the god of magic could help him recover his memories and allow him to return home to confront those that cast him out.

"In time, I will have what I seek....until then, I will remain vigilant...and perhaps put forth my all into my actions. Distractions will get me nowhere, and certainly they will not help me stay alive......I must speak with Kharask, and soon. As the leader of this......group....he should be made aware of what I know of my past, and thus, that I have not been giving my full effort. He needs to be made aware of the reasons behind my actions........"

He spoke to himself, as always...trying to work out his thoughts. His mind was a vault of knowledge, and the stray thoughts sometimes crept into his mind to disrupt his plans. He knew that once he was restored, he would be fine, but that still did not make life in the now any easier.......

"I pray that he does not judge me on my mistakes....and hopefully, he shall see my usefulness soon enough."

He could see the others ahead whilst the searched the bodies of their enemies for anything useful........perhaps he would wait until they reached Kharan Has before speaking with him. Of course, there was the matter of Vadriar's task.....it had been completed and the Dragonborn should know of this fact..........

"It's settled then......you'll speak to Kharask, and for the love of the gods....stop talking to yourself! You're crazy enough without it............."

He began looking through his spellbook, and with a smile, noted that a new spell had revealed itself. His spellbook was full of spells, but he could not read all of them. As he achieved new heights of wisdom and intellect, more opened up to him......and it appeared as if he had finally unlocked a rather interesting spell....something sure to be useful for sticky situations.....

"This is most fortunate...."