Today was long, and less successful than I would have liked. Still, when one considers the fiasco at the Drow Embassy, I think our efforts on this mission managed to straddle the lowered bar. I am, however, beginning to doubt a conclusion we'd reached shortly before returning from the Obelisk. However, I'll cover that bit of the events when I come to it. We set off bright and early for the dwarven lands. I felt a tad worried about leaving Gaine to his own devices, but I reasoned that he needed the hotel to attract ogres for him, so he'd stop short of its complete demolition. Besides, he blew a rather large hole in the roof before we left. He's probably still fixing it as I write this. The antics of that ogre-obsessed dwarf aside, nothing of particular note happened until we neared our destination. I rather enjoyed being in the outdoors, away from the city for once. However, all the depressing hovels in the distance and the stares given us by all the natives as we rode past ruined the mood a bit. When it occurred to me that Gohrt was the only one among us capable of speaking their language and would, therefore, be the only one with a practical diplomatic route if things turned ugly, I became rather depressed for a bit. However, my fears would not prove to be well-founded until later, after we had established our course of action. We arrived at the great, black obelisk in the early afternoon. It was rather an impressive piece of work, tearing at the heavens, and carved with numerous markings and symbols that even Tim could not identify. The structure appeared to have a large hollow at its base, which we correctly presumed was the entryway. Entry after swimming through the pond had limited appeal, but it seemed the only option. So, Barada set her foot in the small, circular lagoon, but yanked it out almost immediately, giving us all a few brief moments to watch a dissolving shoe. Clearly, things were not so simple. A brief search around the acidic lake revealed a scale model of the obelisk, still taller than any of us, but by a far slimmer margin. It bore a draconic inscription, which Tim translated: " " I was disappointed. I'd wished for a far more challenging riddle from a dragon. I'd later get my wish, and almost wind up regretting it. Regardless, the answer to the puzzle was obviously a shadow. However, no matter how much I proclaimed the answer, or asked Tim to do so, nothing happened. Soon enough, we spied the sun's position and grasped the riddle's true meaning: we were to wait until the obelisk's shadow created a path for us. Thus, we were to wait however many hours it would take for the sun to reach its proper position. No sooner had we realized this than we noticed the sizable number of dwarves cresting the hill. They were all armed, and seemed prepared to attack. Jarves, Tim, Barada, Atari, and I then proved our great comraderie: we donned our cloaks, leaving a confused Gohrt to face them alone. I was quite curious why the dwarf didn't vanish with us. Little as I think of his intellect, even I have certain expectations for it. Atari later explained her responsibility for Gohrt's visibility. Because her cloak had been damaged, she'd 'borrowed' the drunk dwarf's cloak, neglecting to tell him and leaving a Cloak of Elvenkind in its place. For exactly that reason, I have made it a point to never trust the girl with anything valuable. To his credit, Gohrt [i]did[/i] attempt to resolve the problem without violence. At least, at first. It was certainly the shortest negotiation I'd ever witnessed. He later translated the incident for us. He first asked, "Are you friendly?" The spokesman for the thirty or so dwarves answered, "Nope." As his one and only attempt at diplomacy had failed, Gohrt then fell back on what he knew best: he fired a crossbow bolt into the vastly superior force. Proving that Gohrt is a representative specimen of his race, said vastly superior force responded by charging down the hill. If not for some quick thinking and a hastily cast Rope Trick by Tim, our resident boozehound would likely have been torn apart by his kinsmen. So, while the dwarf and gnome spent some time in their little extradimensional pocket, the rest of us gave the area's natives a wide berth, as they fumbled around for us. Eventually, they got bored and left. All things considered, we probably should have thought to check on the carriages. Regardless, the sun eventually brought the obelisk's shadow to the far shore. Cautiously, Barada set her other shoe upon the shadowy water, verifying both the bridge's existence, and my brilliance. Exchanging her lone shoe for another pair that, for whatever reason, someone in our group had been carrying around with them, she and the rest of us arrived at the obelisk. We found more draconic symbols here and there, but the main draw was the staircase leading down. For reasons I can understand, Jarves seemed reluctant to accompany us down. If right, we would probably be walking into a dragon's lair. If wrong, we'd be walking into who know's what. So, leaving him to cool his heels up there, the rest of us descended. The problem with this was immediately apparent: there were no light sources. As the only member of our little gang without the ability to see at all in complete darkness, I removed my cloak's hood and cast Light upon the tip of my spear, illuminating all around us. We descended the spiral staircase, eventually emerging in a large room, with the remnants of several fires scattered about and a large number of pathways around the room. Before we had a moment to discuss our selection, we heard some footsteps from down the hall. Immediately, all the hoods went on, leaving Gohrt to stealthily creep and leaving me blind. The footsteps grew louder while I fumbled towards the stairs, hoping the chamber's denizens wouldn't be up for a climb. Fortunately, the large fires were soon lit, revealing, oddly enough, a large number of humanoid lizards, garbed in some rudimentary clothing and armed with spears. Given how hideous the creatures must have looked, I'm quite thankful the fires provided such little light. My opinions aside, having prepared the fires, the tribal reptiles began to dance. As our eyes adjusted to the new light source, one of the lizardmen seemed to notice Gohrt. Rather than attempt to slip away, the dwarf believed this was probable cause to fire another crossbow bolt at it. Naturally, this alerted every red-eyed creature in the room to his presence and led to a possibly unnecessary fracas. It is for things like this that I feel justified in denying Gohrt his share of the weapons take. Anyway, once he'd started the fight, the rest of us had no choice but to join in. I won't go into detail, but I will give a few ideas of how things went. I believe I missed with every single crossbow bolt I fired, much as I hate to admit it. Barada struck true with her rapier and crossbow much of the time. Atari, at one point, proved that getting Cloaks of Nondetection damaged runs in the family. Gohrt simply stood his ground, swiping at any of the scaly beasts that crossed his path, which he found quite a bit easier to do, after Tim decided to cast Enlarge upon him. Tim also distracted a fair number of the beasts by creating first an audible and then a visible illusion of dwarves descending the steps. I noticed between misses that a fair number of those distracted seemed to cluster around one particular passageway. Even with our mighty fighting force, lizardmen entered the room faster than we could keep up with them. Things seemed bleak. Then, Jarves decided to join the fray, playing a lullaby as he descended the steps. Mercifully, this removed the danger inherent in almost all of them by sending them to dreamland. After dispatching the few creatures willful enough to resist his enchanting melody, the room was filled with snoozing monstrosities. So, with Jarves at our side and Gohrt a bloody mess, we pressed on to the well-guarded room. There, a puzzling sight met our eyes: an elderly woman in a rocking chair. As mentioned, I have not studied dragons in depth. However, I still recall hearing countless tales of dragons assuming human shape. As such, I wasn't fooled for an instant. I doubt I was alone. She presumed there was only one reason for our coming: the Egg. However, before she would even consider giving it to us, she wished to test us. So, she asked, "What walks on four legs in the morning, two at noontime, and three in the evening?" To state the obvious, I am not a fool. I know that showing rudeness to a dragon, if one is ever unlucky enough to encounter one, is a good way to wind up dead. However, when someone asks the riddle that happens to be [i]exactly[/i] what I think of when I hear the word 'riddle,' I have no choice: I [i]must[/i] be insolent. So, after sarcastically calling her query the most original riddle in the history of all mankind with an answer that most certainly could not be 'man' for about a minute, she became irritable and granted my unspoken wish for a challenge. From now on, I shall be more mindful of what I wish for. "I look like an owl at the midnight hour. I smell, though not like a flower. I feel like spiders crawling down your back, except one thing I lack. I taste like a snake roasting in the desert sun. In almost every sense I could be king, but I am missing just one thing. Be like me or else your quest is done." She told us she would await our answer in the next room and quietly left us to it. I have no idea how long it took us to puzzle out the answer, but it was dark by the time we finally left. Partially because I have no desire to inadvertantly give the answer to Mandabi, should he ever find this, but perhaps mostly because I am, at heart, a capricious and vindictive individual, I will not reveal the riddle's answer. We spent ages puzzling it out, so I see no reason to deny any who come after us the same pleasure. And I do mean 'we.' Much as I'd like to take all the credit, everybody was a vital part of finding the correct answer. I did, however, find a few of our attempts rather amusing, such as when Tim sat in the rocking chair and hoped something would come of it. Revealing exactly what followed would give away too much, but once we'd decided on an answer, which headstrong Barada insisted we deliver in spite of my reservations, we found a strange sight in the next room. And by 'we,' I mean everyone but Jarves. I'm still not sure why I went on ahead instead of hanging back... Nevertheless, I didn't get a very good look at the creature we saw, but it appeared to be a large amalgamation of woman and lion. And she proved she'd not joked about the 'or else your quest is done' bit. Again, I'll not say how. So, after coming picariously close to a young death, we pulled ourselves back together and looked around. The massive pile of treasure that filled the room was such a beautiful sight I almost didn't notice when the bizarre creature assumed the old woman's form. She explained that we'd passed the first test and proven ourselves wise. I had trouble paying attention to her next words; almost all of these speeches beginning with 'tests of wisdom' generally flow the same way, and she had a giant pile of treasure to compete with. From what I picked up, the second test was one of nobility. If she found a group who could pass that one as well, the Egg would be theirs. She seemed rather confident in her abilities -- and, given what I'd felt moments before, I can understand those feelings -- because she pointed the Egg out to us. The large object sat, as though a holy relic atop her great hoard. She had good reason to require such tests of potential finders; she claimed the egg contained the last of her kind, after all. I doubt she'd have been pleased if the first person to get her riddle decided to make an omelette fit for a king with. The woman instructed all of us to hold out our arms, at which point small, black serpents slithered around our wrists and quickly transformed into bracelets. Apparently, these bracelets would give us a sign when we had proven our worthiness. Then, in a manner that seemed entirely unnecessary, she told us the vast treasure trove behind her held no value in her mind, and invited us to take what we wished. In my mind, taking vast quantities of wealth for one's own ends seemed a tad counter-productive to the whole 'nobility' thing. My allies agreed. So, though I regret doing so now, we touched not a coin and began to head back to the surface. We emerged in the hours of darkness, which mercifully shrouded the entire lake in shadow. We crossed it to find the wagons just as we'd left them and set out for home, which we are nearing as I conclude this entry. Dawn is also fast approaching, I fear. Our group shall try to take what little sleep we can before we make our report to the Spectres tomorrow. However, as I begin to nod off, I must wonder: How in the name of all the hells am I going to prove myself noble?