Gnomish Tower - the aftermath, or Musings of an addled dwarf

Bright were our blades and bright were our eyes
But dark was the ancient tower
Stout were our arms and stout were our hearts
But the demons there wielded much power

Harken ye to the tale of our battles that day
Learn of our mixed boldness and dismay
For glory we found, and even some loot
But the gnomes had been crushed 'neath a devil's boot
Ambushed it seems, struck down while they slept
Sneakily around the tower the devils crept
And when we arrived, we found the gnomes slain
Not one was alive, only butchered remains

Bright were our blades and bright were our eyes
But dark was the gloom that awaited
Stout were our arms and stout were our hearts
But the fall of the gnomes had been fated

We avenged the gnomes' deaths in a glorious fight
Though the Tiefling leader brought magical night
His minions were weak, one of them fled
The rest were cut down, the crows shall be fed
In desperation he tried to open a gate
But it was not quick enough to escape his fate
Brought low by his wounds and exploded as well
His spirit shall suffer the torments of hell

Bright were our blades and bright were our eyes
But dark was the tower of terror
Stout were our arms and stout were our hearts
But our thoughts we could help were in error
-- Draven Sunsworn

As I lie recovering from the poison of the ant-like creatures we slew on our way into the Gnome's tower, I ponder the bitter twist of fate that left me here. I now believe these giant ants to have been the hirelings the gnomish journal spoke of, Formians they were called. I cannot help but feel guilty for the way in which we slew them, but then, they approached as if for battle, so I cannot see what else we could have done. Still, if they had not weakened us so badly, perhaps we would have been able to slay the Tieflings at the top of the tower in time to prevent the destruction of the arcane device we found there.

Of course, since the device was the most likely source of both sets of Outsiders, perhaps it is for the best that it was destroyed. In a way, the device could be blamed for its own destruction, a symetry that pleases my poison-addled mind. I expect that when I recover, this insight will seem trite and foolish, but for now it entertains me. A similar description might fit my attempt at making a Saga of our deeds.

In any case, the mission is done, Zhed cannot be pleased with what we found, but nor can he be dissatisfied with the service we have done him. The gnomes could not be saved, but at least the half-fiends we found here will slay no-one else, and at least this dangerous Gate machine will not put anyone else at risk.