It's been 11 years since it all started, 11 years since the foundation of the museum. I was there at the very start, when the tyrant vampire lord Teshil Despairdaub ordered it's construction. I was the one who dragged all the marble tables to the museum. I nearly lost my life there, in the ruins of Sunkengem, The dwarven outpost near the museum where the tables where created. A troll smashed my foot, but I escaped, and lived to complete my task for the vampire master. The wound never healed, every day it reminds me of what happened all those years ago.
But I haven't properly introduced myself. I should, before I continue rambling about times past.
My name is Bralbaard Scaledskin.
One look at my clothes would tell you that I'm an average citizen of the empire of Omon Woge. The turban is worn by all the empire's citizens, it gives shade from the burning sun even on the hottest of days. The other items I'm wearing are rather mundane as well. The only item that occasionally gets me some comments is the robe:
Yes, that is a panda leather robe.
But there's more a quick look could teach you, anyone from the empire would recognize me right away as a villager from one of the surrounding hamlets. My eyes are not ochre but green, unlike people born in the capital, and my hair is not amber but pitch black. While I look like a farmer I've never felt like one, I think I always felt that I did not belong here, but I've only come to fully realize this recently.
But I was telling you about the start of the museum. It did not go as my vampire master had planned, on the contrary. Our vampire lord expected the museum to draw adventurers that would fill it with treasures and that would bring him fame, but it summoned heroes who confronted him, and brought him to justice. It's been years now since Kaslun Dapsaning, guided by the power of Kromgar, brought down the vampire overlord. It seems so long ago now.
After Teshil Despairdaub fell, I quickly lost interest in the museum and continued with my own life. The museum only reminded me of our suffering under the vampire lord. The never-healing wound on my foot made reminded me every day.
Two days ago however I received a letter that made me change my mind. The letter was addressed to the museum, but as there was nobody there, the messenger had brought it to me. People still know of my history with the museum.
The message was written in the Dwarven language, and came from a faraway city named Controlledbels, one of the mountain homes of the Rainy Lashes. It asked if we had received word from an expedition they had sent out that should have made it to Dinnerwandered months ago. The expedition was to bring us artifacts from a place known as "Silverywind"
Since we have not heard from such an expedition I can only asume it must have failed. I've send a return letter, but it did not ease my mind.
The tales about this frozen city filled with artifacts have haunted me for the last two days. A city made out of ice, just imagine... What a sight it must be.
Some magical force seems to want to draw me to this place, and I can not resist.
I have made up my mind, I'll leave Dinnerwandered tomorrow.