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Hail and well met, Fans of Crisis,

It has been an eventful couple of days since I joined our esteemed CrIsis. But what’s this I hear? ‘Just a couple of days?’ you say incredulously. ‘It’s been months!’

That, my friends is a tale and a half. You see, there is more to this world than a surface examination would ever reveal, but all of you know that, having been to the dungeon more than once. There are layers upon layers to this world, and some of them travel at different speeds to the others.

This One traveled much more slowly. I’ll leave the travails and trials to another, or at least most of them. Wandering around in a group of winding hallways, all the same, is as boring as it sounds. At the very least you could hope for the corpses of those who went before, but the magic of that place prevented even those from lying for long. It was perpetually renewing. How many of you would love a spell like that? This construct remained erect for centuries.

Eventually, after thrusting our way through the Blessing of Terosh we made our way to a small room with a stone Elf, Wolfen, and Human. They were statuesque as well as being statues. Unfortunately for the ladies they were fully clothed.

The solution to this little puzzle require that they be turned into a Wolfen sandwich with a little whitebread human and elf on either side. I’m sure you are all enjoying the imagery, and the reaffirmation that our ancestors were just as inventive as we are.

If that were the end, if that was the key to the entire dungeon, then it might have been redeemed. A little boredom followed by a payoff at the end of a nice puzzle. Unfortunately, though, that wasn’t the end.

It was merely another link in the chain, leading us ever downward, ever further, and never taking us anywhere we needed to go.

Friends, we went into the depths for answers to questions and to end a war that should never have happened. A war started by the rich and powerful in order to satisfy their own greed for a land that didn’t need to be owned by anyone.

Unfortunately the time for peace has passed, destroyed by the dungeon where we went to end it. The human army descended upon us as we tried to protect the last remnants of the library, they called out their lust for our blood, and not in a happy controlled way like we always presented for you in the dungeon.

We slipped through a secret passageway that lead us here, to the library at the end. The problem is the library began to collapse the moment we found anything. We salvaged what we could, but that was barely a tithe of riches that therein lie. Rooster and I did our best to keep the walls up with our mixed magic, but in the end, we failed. The library crashed to the ground the moment that we slipped out through a portal only to find us on the golden sands of the Baalgor Wasteland.

The Blessing, fools that they are, a just a couple of dunes ahead of us as I write this. We have an opportunity to possibly take them out, for the moment. But should we take this, should we actually take them out, then how will we…

…no, I’m not going to worry about the morality of it now. If I worry about it now, then I will be robbed of my will to act. Morality is often the refuge of the rich in goods but the poor in everything else.

It is these armchair moralists who never had to stand in front of another man, who had to take up arms and strike down they fellow men, who think they can judge the acts and decisions of others. I will not allow them to define who I am and what I am capable of doing, or even should do.

Written by Grignak