Sunday November 30, Outskirts of Silvermines
The old stories all tell that when Balor freed the Watcher from his prison
under the Cloudspine, one arm was left trapped in his prison of solid rock.
Bound by a powerful confinement dream, it should have remained there forever.
But it didn't.
We're a hundred miles from Bagrada and two days ahead of the rest of the
Legion today, outside a town called Silvermines, looking for the Watcher's arm.
You have no idea how small it makes you feel to be poking around the ruins of an
abandoned town looking for the shriveled arm of the second or third most
powerful sorcerer in living memory.
I don't understand how the arm got to Silvermines, or how The Nine knew where
to look for it, but I can tell they want it bad. They hope to use the Watcher's
arm against him, if we find it. Rather like knowing his true name, only better.
Again, I don't pretend to understand.
Problem is The Deceiver is thinking the same thing. Some of The Fallen are
over a millennium old, and their rivalries go back just as far. We know The
Deceiver is looking for the arm too, and has been digging up Silvermines since
last summer.
We're going in this evening to grab it.