A Scrap of Tattered Vellum/Text

My name is Ayozal Mythchaser. I was sent here by High Scribe Dalyn in order to complete my life's work on The Great War and Thazeran's Tower after Prime Wizard Shozal discovered translocation magics that can pierce the tower.

I have been here for nearly three years. Every week the Prime Wizard has delivered to me a small parcel by portal with vellum, ink, water, food and other supplies. My time here has been greatly rewarding, and I have been able to nearly complete all six volumes of my masterwork. My only communication with the rest of Dalaya has been through notes pushed back and forth through the tiny portals.

As a portal big enough for a person to fit through requires an enormous amount of energy, I have not asked to be brought home for a break. I swore I would not return until my books are complete, and I hold to that promise. In all honesty, the solitude has been welcome. I have not enjoyed the company of others since my wife, Shirla, died.

Yet something has happened. The last portal was no bigger than a pinhole, and a single small message came out before closing. The message said simply, 'Under attack. Hold fast.'. This message came two weeks ago.

I fear that Kaezul has finally descended on my beautiful city of Highkeep. Worse still, I am hungry, and I fear that no help is forthcoming. I hope that one day, someone reads this message, and that my writings will not be lost to time.

It is hard not to reflect, though, while I sit here with my stomach on fire and my mouth parched. The Deacons stare at me, completely apathetic of my imminent death. I have taken to talking to them, although they long ago stopped talking back to me.

Yet I have work to do. I have but a chapter left in my last book, and I am resolute in finishing it.

Signed, Ayozal Mythchaser.
Researcher of Highkeep, Scholar of the Four.