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I may not speak or write the most fluent of common among the people, but even so I can write and maintain a log of my journeys here from Anestoril.

I am Orgon Bloodspear, general on-leave from the city of D'iskort, part of the An'Arkian Tribes, from in the north reaches of Anestoril. My travels here to this isle in the Twinion Kingdom and Yserbius mountain were from the letters written back home about what was found across the ocean. The sea people of Osh'n and Torrent did not speak of such an island, and with my time off from my duties to Lord Halifax, I sought to learn more about this island myself.

The environment outside here on the island is bare and harsh; fire singes most of the trees and leaves most of the ground covered in ash. I am used to a rough world, and from what I have heard from the people in the tavern here, even more rough times are ahead in the dungeons within the volcano.

By my spear and whatever other tools I may grab in my onslaught, this dungeon shall bend to me.

Hail and met and well-met, Orgon for the bloody-spear. If none else has yet welcomed you, it falls to me to express our Yserbian welcomes. Thus I do give them to you: welcome; sir; welcome.

I welcome you, and welcome to our cinder-sloped slope and townstread I give you. And in the midst of the same, I ask you: what, aside from a yet-unbroken sprear and a samewise unbroken will... do you offer us? For even in the midst of a re-awoken volcano dungeon, I do not know that we need any new heroes... unlesss you offer something new.

And then again, I recognize that I am only speaking from the perspective of those who have fought the dungeon's antagonists before!

I do not claim to speak for your time as I do for the before time, when I knew every knight and ranger and wizard in our midst.

You are a new companion, you orgon bloodspear. Tell me what you bring to us, and what we may take from you.