from the Journals of Morningstar 776 Series C, Warforged Wizard

by Richard Smyth

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Date: 11 Olarune 997YK

Early this morning, I go off with the salvage crews to plunder weapons from the Field of Ruins. My plan is simple: I will feign being wounded, which will slow me down, and then, when I am far enough behind the others, I will slip into the Glass Plateau and wander through the maze of broken shards until the crew is gone, leaving me behind for lost. Then I will head due north, toward Karrnath, in haste. Away from the Mournland and its brotherhood of hopelessness.

As I go among the shattered fragments of the Glass Plateau, following the secret markings the Lord of Blades showed me on our last visit, I seem to feel the reverberations of the forge deep below. I realize that I have not lied to my fellow soldiers: I have been wounded, ever since entering the world of men, deeply wounded, and I have yet to recover. Is there a place for me in this world, I wonder out loud?

In this jagged garden of glass, I see my face reflected back to me one hundredfold, a multi-dimensional geometry of fractured identity. But then the glass darkens, obsidian-black, and I can no longer see my self at all.