This will be my last entry in this journal. It is all over and, as soon as Lisha and Alanna let me out of their sight, I plan to end my miserable existence. May the gods forgive me.

After a restless night attempting in vain to sleep on the balcony of the evil church, Thibor woke us all at dawn. Demetrius was feeling poorly, but Thibor cast another spell to slow the progress of the poison that was racing through his veins.
Arming ourselves with oil and torches, we spread out around the balcony and peered down into the worship hall. The service was still going on. Crazily, I wondered if it would continue forever did we not stop it.
But stop it we did. As the rest of us threw flasks of oil, Thibor cast a fireball into the hall below. A huge explosion rocked the building, and a column of flame rose up to lick hungrily against the roof. When we could see again, we found that the organist and the occupants of the pews were all dead.
Suddenly, we heard a woman's evil laughter, though we could not pinpoint its source. There was a commotion and the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Skeletons were rushing up the stairs. Demetrius and Lisha ran over, rolling a pew down the stairs and knocking off all the skeletons. At the same time, four horrible, monstrous creatures appeared at the altar.
Just as the giant, reptilian creatures turned their yellow eyes towards us, Thibor cast a fireball at the altar. Three of them died, but the remaining monster spread its huge wings and flew straight at Thibor. While the fighters bowled down more skeletons at the stairs, Alanna magically enfeebled the monster, and the rest of us killed it.
Suddenly, a giant skeletal throne much like the one we'd seen before entered the room. Again Radaga rode in it. But she had changed horribly, having become this shrunken, dead thing with glowing, red eyes.
"It's Radaga!" Thibor cried in glee and donned the Crown. Lisha appeared beside him and, stretching out a hand, shot forth huge webs which fell short of the woman. I'd no time to wonder how she accomplished this as three goblins suddenly appeared and dove at Thibor. We killed them, but not before Radaga cast a spell. We could only watch in horror as Thibor slumped to the floor, sound asleep.
But the cleric woke up almost as soon as he went down. He blew the Horn of Hannah, and Radaga shrieked in pain. He blew it again, and the chair blew up, sending Radaga flying.
But the horrible creature stood up and began to run.
"NO!" Demetrius cried. "You're not getting away this time." Before anyone could stop him, he jumped down and pinned her to the floor.
He looked up at us, eyes gleaming. "Flamestrike her!"
I cried out in horror. Demetrius would be killed! But Thibor, perhaps appreciating our friend's sacrifice better than anyone, blew the Horn. A column of flame roared down upon Radaga and Demetrius, incinerating both of them.
"DEMETRIUS!" I screamed in rage and anguish. Without a thought, I jumped down and landed beside him, flute in hand. I had to save him. After everything Demetrius had done for me, I couldn't just let him die. Raising my flute to my lips, I called forth all the power at my disposal and reversed the past, giving Demetrius another chance to survive the flames.
But when I shook Demetrius, he neither moved nor breathed. He was still dead. Bowing my head over my friend's still form, I began to weep shamelessly.
"Temmer!" I heard Thibor scream suddenly. "Look out!"
I turned around just in time to see Radaga get to her feet and hit me with her staff. I screamed as a horrible, wracking pain assailed me. I fell against the wall, watching in horror as my arm withered and was gone.
Radaga started towards me. But suddenly, Lisha was there. In one swift move, she caught the Crown, placed it on her head, and hacked at Radaga. The horrible creature shrieked as the blade connected, but she did not fall.
The rest of the party dropped down then, Thibor taking the Crown from Lisha and placing it on his own head. Everyone attacked her, missing wildly in their rage and frustration. Determined to avenge Demetrius, I stood up and, ignoring my pain, attacked with my remaining arm. Remembering the curse, everyone except Thibor was careful to attack with the flat of their blades.
But we just couldn't seem to finish her. Desperately Vanth tried to tackle her, but she tossed him across the room, where he got to his feet groggily.
Finally, Thibor sunk Conrad into Radaga's heart. Her eyes widened for a moment. Then she exploded, showering us all with her blood.
We all stepped back, watching in amazement as the Crown of Souls rose high into the air. The gemstones had turned a deep azure in color and it began to radiate a pure, white light. A shimmering image of a white robed elf appeared in the light. He smiled at us and spoke.
"Thank you. For nearly 500 years I have been locked in unending combat with the evil soul of the necromancer Daglan who built this Crown. I was the weaker and could not triumph. But now, with the destruction of Daglan's last descendant, I have been able to overcome his evil. Now, half a millennia after it began, this malevolence has ended."
As soon as he finished his speech, the glow faded, the elf vanished, and the Crown crumbled into dust.
"That's it?" I cried in despair. "What about Demetrius?"
No one had time to answer me, as the storm picked up and the building began to shake, showering us with debris. Thibor was right, I realized. We'd fought evil, and now we were going to die.
As the building began to collapse around us, the others ran towards the door. But I couldn't leave Demetrius. And I didn't want to live anyway, not like this. Desperately, I searched for a way to kill myself. But it is hard to slit your wrists when you only have one hand.
That was my last conscious thought before church collapsed. I don't know what happened to the others, but Lisha, Alanna and I woke up in an inn room. I wonder what Hell we've been transported to this time? No matter. I don't intend to live long enough to find out.

If anyone should ever read this journal, heed well this advice. Adventure will not lead you to fame and glory. All you will earn for your trouble is pain and sorrow. Give up your dreams before they get you killed.

Sincerely,

Temmer Wadsworth Longfellow,
Former Bard

This Journal is dedicated to the memory of my valiant friends, Thibor, Vanth, and, especially, Demetrius. May they rest in peace.