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.
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