I don’t remember exactly how it all happened.  What I do remember is that we were traveling to the dwarf’s tower looking for a cure for the “slimy doom.”  We encountered a party of dwarves there, which was to be expected.  The tower itself looked as though it had been attacked, and there were several slain dwarves laying about the entrance.

I don’t remember who started questioning the dwarves, but suddenly we found ourselves in the midst of battle.  Four of the dwarves charged us, and to my horror, our weapons seemed not to harm them, their wounds closing as quickly as we made them.  I was wounded in the initial charge, but I managed to get back from them even as Kessem slew one of the dwarves with a magic missile spell.  I also cast magic missile, though my spells are not as powerful as Kessem’s.  The wound inflicted by the missile did not heal over though, so I knew I would have to fight this battle with magic and not my crossbow.

The battle was going well at first.  Kessem killed another dwarf with a great blast of lightning, something that I must learn to do later.  The battle turned against us, however, almost immediately after that, when I noticed one of the dwarves making a run for the tower door.  I cast another magic missile spell, this one aimed at the fleeing dwarf, but he shrugged off the injury and continued on, slamming the heavy tower door closed.  Kessem chased him up to the door and used the magic chime that we had found to open the door.  I cast another magic missile at the fleeing dwarf, but he still continued on into the tower.  In the meantime, the final dwarf shape shifted into a huge rat-man beast.  He fought us for a few minutes, before turning and fleeing into the tower.  We chased him inside and suddenly the battle was joined anew, with the wererats’s friends giving him aid. 

Things quickly went downhill from there.  I was feeling the fatigue from casting so much magic in so short a time, and had begun to prepare my crossbow when a wererat appeared from one of the upper levels of the tower and began casting a spell at me.  I felt his will collide with mine, and his rage was so great that I could not stave it off.  The effect of the spell washed over me, holding me fast, keeping me from moving at all. 

I couldn’t see much else after that, as my attention had been on loading the crossbow.  Selena ran up to me at one point and yelled at me not to fight her; that she would try to help me.  If I could have spoken, I would have told her that it was unnecessary and that I trusted her anyway. 

What happened next was something I have never heard of or seen anywhere.  She cast some kind of magic upon me, and suddenly I didn’t seem to be in contact with the floor, but instead floating just above it.  Selena tried to push me out of the tower, but a wererat jumped in front of her before she could.  In the end, she ran from the tower, leaving me within.  Ozzy had fallen to the wererats sometime before, and the rest of my companions had left. 

“Should I kill this one too?” one of the wererats asked his compatriots.  I thought for sure my life was over.

“No, take this one alive,” another said.  I couldn’t see them, and was thus unprepared for whatever it was that they hit me with.  The first hit blurred my vision and set me to seeing sparks popping in front of me.  The second hit brought darkness.

When I awoke, we were away from the tower, moving along a trail.  Only two of the wererats remained, as well as the imp that had been helping them in the tower.  Where we were going, I know not.  They had taken Ozzy as well, and for a while I thought he had been killed.  There were several bite marks on my arm, and at one point I saw one of the two wererats walk over and bite Ozzy.  The symbol of Heironeous that was given to me in Seblingham was gone, as was my equipment…even worse though, my hands were bound tightly.  The wererat spoke to me, something about behaving and joining them, but I didn’t really listen to him.  My mind was racing as I tried to figure out how I might get Ozzy and myself out of this.

So many things went through my mind then.  Had my companions escaped alive?  If so, would they face the wererats again to rescue us?  If they didn’t, what was to become of Ozzy and I?  Suddenly, and very surprisingly, I found myself regretting leaving Wyndin Keep. 

Several hours after I awoke, the wererats came upon a cave at some kind of burial mound.  The smaller of the two sniffed around some, then said: “There’s nothing living here boss.”  They seemed about ready to make camp when some kind of zombie shambled out of the mound and attacked them.  It struck the smaller wererat first, and suddenly he stopped, paralyzed.  Seeing an opportunity, I began to work against my bindings, and I soon began to feel them loosen. 

The imp attacked the undead thing to no effect, then just floated around as the other wererat fought the undead.  Before long I had freed my hands enough to point at my target and cast a spell.  The look of surprise on the imp’s face was beautiful as two magic missiles slammed into it.  The wererat looked away from his opponent long enough to give me a surprised glance, which cost him a hit from the undead monster.  The imp moved towards me even as I cast again, slamming him with two more missiles.  Again, the wererat turned to regard me, but this time his face was a mask of rage.  I knew that if I failed here, I would be slain. 

The imp, now in terrible condition, blinked out of sight.  The other wererat had taken another hit when he looked over at me, and whatever affected his friend now hit him.  He continued to stare at me, even as the wounded zombie shambled over towards Ozzy.

Realizing that my freedom now lied in destroying the undead, I targeted it and cast another bout of magic missiles.  They struck the thing fully and solidly, but did not destroy it.  It regarded me for a moment, then bit Ozzy as though to feed on him.  I cast again, already starting to feel tired.  This spell destroyed the monster, and I breathed a sigh of relief as it collapsed.

My relief was short lived as the imp reappeared, snarling curses at me even as it attacked with it’s barbed tail.  I rolled away from it as best I could, awkwardly trying to hit it with a frost ray as I did so.  It dodged my first attack easily, then it came at me again.  Again I rolled away from it, casting again.  This time though, the ray hit the demon, finally laying him low. 

I finished freeing myself, then rushed over to my belongings and retrieved the healing potion that we had taken from the snake queen’s lair.  From the larger wererat, I took a dagger, taunting him with it, making sure he could what it was I was doing.  I cut Ozzy loose, then did my best to get the potion down his throat.  It worked, his wounds healed before my eyes.  I helped him to his feet, then we walked over to the paralyzed wererats, retrieved our gear, and went to work. 

Though I hate them for what they did to me, and the curse that they have given me, I am not proud of the butchery that Ozzy and I performed on that site.  It took several minutes, as our weapons didn’t harm them immediately, but finally the wererats lay dead.  We collected the valuables from them and started back the way we came. 

We found our companions later on that evening.  The reunion seemed surprisingly cold.  I did not tell them of the magic that we had taken as the spoils of our battle, and I do not plan to.  From what I have read of the alchemist’s notes, lycanthropy is a very difficult curse to lift.  Should it come down to it, I will offer the magic that I garnered from the wererats to a temple in exchange for a cure for Ozzy, myself, and any others in our party that might be afflicted…