Deeper and deeper we delved into the twisting tunnels and cramped corridors of the Shadowfell Keep. We were sorely tested by droves of the undead, but we pressed onwards until we came to a wide room where an evil priest was going about his dark deeds. Snarling undead came at us from all sides, moving swiftly and slashing with sharp claws. Kun-We engaged a group of them, and I charged at another group. I hoped that I could push through them and destroy the priest before he could weave further foulness. That is how I ended up surrounded by the grasping claws and gnashing teeth of the vile creatures.
Fiercely, I fought, swinging my maul and hoping for a reprieve. One of the dragonborn unleashed his breath on me, along with the monsters that surrounded me, yet it was to no avail. As each creature fell, they attacked me, ripping desperately at my armor and flesh. Despite the actions of my friends, and the strength that burned inside of me, I fell. I could hear the ruckus of battle as I slowly drifted from consciousness. I knew I was entering my last dream, and was ready to awaken in the next life, hoping against hope that I would not rise as one of those befouled monsters.
In dreaming, I found myself in a strange forge. The peal of a great hammer clanging against hot metal ripped through the air. Working at the forge was a bearded figure; I strained to see if it was Moradin or if it was my father. In the dim light of the forge, it was hard to tell. Forging a weapon, he told me that it was not ready yet, and that was when I awoke in the care of a healer.
Infirm, I let my body rest. I considered the dream, straining to hold onto each slipping thread of memory. I was glad that my new found friends had been considerate enough to heal me; I must keep this good turn in mind. That was when I became worried, as none were beside me. I was concerned and afraid, wondering if any of them had fallen to the death cult. I was assured that they all survived, and that they were off battling in a nearby cemetery whose peace had been disrupted.
With a heavy heart, I waited for their return. The healer that attended me warned that my body had been ravaged far beyond what she should have been able to repair, and that I would never recover completely from my wounds. She was amazed that I was able to survive for so long through just my will to live. I gritted my teeth and resolved that this was another test from Moradin; with a weakened body, my path would be tougher to climb, but I now knew that I had a deeper strength, one which would be needed in the days ahead. I would need that willpower if I would stand beside my comrades once again.
Grasping for my maul, I tried to gain my feet, nearly tumbling to the ground. I found my balance and stood, determined to go to the forge and improve my weapon…