Burnt Offerings
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You didn’t hear this from me, but that gem Brott was carryin’? It wasn’t just rare. It was cursed.
Soon as I saw it, I felt my guts twist. Told him I’d buy it off him, but only if he got himself cleaned up first.
I send him to a wizard I know, name of Sarnhild the quiet. Fella lives like a hermit - hangs near the far tunnel past the Wizard Spire above Thronefast. Doesn’t talk much, but he’s known to remove things. Curses. Markings. Sometimes worse.
That’s the last I saw of Brott. Didn’t even wait for morning. Took off muttering about “burning right” or some such.
Hand-in Dialog (beware: possible spoilers)
Eldrin Varnholt
[He takes the gem from you with care, through his fingers flinch at its lingering heat. He stares at it - not in wonder, but in something closer to dread.]
So, it burned him. All the way through.
I knew these gems were powerful artifacts, but I didn’t consider the toll they’d take. Whatever claimed the dwarf… it meant to.
[He sets the gem besides the others, carefully.]
This journal isn’t just leading us to knowledge. It’s leading us, through sacrifice. The kind that leaves scars. Or smoke.
Rest while you can. The next passage is already stirring.