In hopes that you will eventually find this note and garner some succor from it, I am scratching this out as my life flows away. We three were trapped in this room, having encountered one of those bedamned teleportation zones. Before we could arm ourselves we were set upon by a knight most foul. The demon left once we were sure of deaths arms, leaving me this time. Drier'ith, our swordsman was carrying that which we hoped would strengthen you for your last battle. Macabe scryed a ghost-demon in your path, and feared you would not overcome. Beware of this ghost, which will attack when you are most sure of success! It hovers always near the crown, which must be placed on another pillar.
