The World of Layonara
Character Development => Development Journals and Discussion => Topic started by: Stug3 on February 27, 2006, 04:57:11 pm
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HISTORY:
Balthazar Woll or Bobby to his friends and family was raised in Leilon by his parents Hildegard and Gunter Woll. Balthazar's life growing up was far from poverty stricken but he was not raised high on the hog either. As respectable merchants his parents worked hard to provide the necessities of raising a strong and respectable son. They worked hard not to spoil or coddle their son, growing up under his parents roof Balthazar learned the importance of self-respect and the honesty of a hard days work. Gunter, his father was not a strict disciplinarian but he did not allow Balthazar to get away with inappropriate behavior either. Balthazar learned the bounds of his father's tolerance for as his father put it Tomfoolery. Balthazar was raised to be respectful and well mannered. Able to read and write he could hold his own in conversation on many subjects including politics, commerce and religion. Gunter did much to prepare his son to one-day take over the family business with its many compromises and challenges. Balthazar's mother Hildegard however had little illusion her son would one day take over the business; she could see the restlessness and knew that the life of a merchant was not in the cards for Balthazar. As a young boy Balthazar was held spellbound by the stories of the scarred and boisterous men who were employed to protect the shipments. They lived life as they found fit, surviving on their wit and skills as swordsmen and the stories they told Balthazar stirred his young imagination so that he could not sleep for hours afterwards. Balthazar often daydreamed about his life as a free blade in the service of this king or that, employed to get crucial supplies through enemy siege lines or defending his home from marauding villains. As with most daydreams the horror and brutality of war were absent in the fanciful imagination of a child mind.
Times have changed drastically, Blood's army advances and few places are safe any longer. Stories of Bone Dragons and formidable creatures wandering the land are all abuzz in the taverns and watering holes. It seems not a day goes by that travelers here or there do not recount strange happenings across the land of Mistone. Calls to arms go out to defend this town or that; war effort collections, enlistments and formations of militia are not uncommon these days. Even Balthazar's parents contribute to the war effort, coin and weapons are needed in awe-inspiring numbers and the Wolls give liberally to the cause. As lands fall the shipment destinations become less and less and those that are still open need the supplies desperately. All of this was not lost on Balthazar. At the request of his father Balthazar was to accompany a trade wagon to Port Hampshire for overseas shipment of its contents. Old enough to accompany the wagons without his father Balthazar was excited by the prospect of being on his own for a bit. Besides the trip was far from perilous, he had traveled with the Port Hampshire caravan a few times before and the caravan always employed several free blades to handle any threat that may present itself.
Two weeks later Balthazar returned to Leilon a ragged and bloodied mess. Covered in road grime, dried blood and dressed in rags of what were his clothes, he collapsed in exhaustion at the gate. His parents were summoned and he was taken to their home for care. His back was covered in deep claw like wounds and bite marks covered a great portion of his chest, a broken right arm, three broken ribs, two missing teeth, an arrowhead lodged in his right shoulder and a vicious slash from skull to chin had destroyed his left eye, Healers arrived to tend his wounds. He was cleaned, the broken bones were set, slashes were stitched, and the arrowhead removed.
In the following days Balthazar's mother left his bedside little and his father desperately tried to find out what had happened to the caravan; when had they been attacked, where, by whom or what and what of the guards and wagon masters? Goods could be replaced but lives had been lost and men were missing.
For days Balthazar lay in his bed sleeping fitfully a cry or muffled shout would escape on occasion to startle his ever-watchful mother. It took a week for Balthazar to wake up but he was not the same Bobby whom three weeks earlier had set off for Port Hampshire with a smile and a wave to his mother, Balthazar would never be the same again.
Questions, questions and more questions were asked but precious few answers surfaced. No answers about who had attacked them or where, no answer about the other men in the caravan, no answers.
Hildegard was worried about her son; her once happy boy became quiet and withdrawn. He rarely ate and she often heard him thrashing around in bed or crying warnings in his sleep, exhaustion showed on his face and in his one good eye a strange look flickered. His mother asked Gunter if he had noticed, he assured her he had. She likened it to the way a starving man might eye sweet bread. Balthazar spent much of his time alone and often returned home with cuts and bruises or bloodied clothes, when his mother or father inquired to his whereabouts practicing was the only reply, day after day for months this played out. Worry grew in the heart of Hildegard, as her son changed into what he was becoming, what it was she did not know, or was she sure she was going to like it.
One afternoon when Balthazar passed his mother she grabbed him, took Balthazar's face in her hand and with tears streaming down her cheeks asked, Where is Bobby?
He's dead Balthazar replied coldly.
Hildegard was confused, dead Balthazar is standing right before me, living, breathing. Slowly Balthazar removed his mother's hands and led her to the table where he pulled out a chair for her to sit on. The voice Balthazar used to tell his mother the story of what happened was as terrifying and heartbreaking as the story its self. The ambush, the fight, the slaughter and his escape all flowed from the mouth of her son as if it were an order taken for a merchant, no emotion and no inflection simply recounting facts. Facts so horrific Hildegard felt physically sick. The ambush had been sprung with such terrifying speed five men were dead before they even knew they were under attack, arrows from the under brush thudded in to their unprotected flesh, a half dozen apiece. Those unlucky enough to be spared instant death had to fight for their end at the hands of the awfulness that erupted from the roadside brush. Creatures that defy the minds eye poured from the forest to commit heinous acts against the men of the caravan. Huge hulking beasts thickly muscled with squashed faces and tusks, hairless misshapen heads and all wielding clubs and axes. They fell on the men with abandon and murderous strength, hacking with axe and slinging men off their feet with great blows from the clubs. Heads crushed and bones broke on every swing of the weapons regardless to the armor worn. Men lifted off their feet to have their necks and backs broken, others swung into trees by their feet others had their heads twisted completely around, limbs were torn free from torso. Still in to this bloodbath arrows streaked, impacting the hulks as well but with little effect. One with six or seven arrows in it continued to beat the wagon master with his club even though his head was turned into pulp and he was obviously dead. Men and horses alike were full of arrows, some to wounded to stand others still fighting in a vain attempt to survive. As if the slaughter was not yet enough, small yapping creatures that had been the source of the arrows also boiled from the forest to join the butchery. Small but very fast they swarmed any still fighting and with their short bladed swords piled on to the men driving them from their feet and making quick work of the overwhelmed men. Wounded men trying to defend themselves from attack, men missing limbs, men with arrows protruding from their backs and chests, men split open holding their insides in with one hand and trying to block the killing blow with the other. Even the horses did not escape the butchering they were set upon just like the men beaten, stabbed and hacked to death. It was no fight it was extermination. The sound of metal on metal, blade on shield, ax into flesh, grunts, squeals, screams and the pleading of the wounded filled Hildegard's head as Balthazar recounted his tale. It was no fight it was extermination.
Balthazar continued on to confess he had been hiding in the middle most wagon for a large amount of the assault until it was clear that it was nearly over and no one of the caravan was going to escape alive. As the hulks and barking creatures finished off anyone still alive including the wounded, Balthazar made his move to escape. As he lifted the tarp covering the wagon one of the hulking creatures yanked the cover free and swung his ax down to cleave Balthazar's skull. In a moment of nothing but luck Balthazar stepped on to a few spear shafts in the wagon and slipped backward out of the arc of the falling ax. Still doing extreme but not fatal damage the ax became imbedded in the wagon. Balthazar continued over backwards and out of the wagon breaking his arm when he landed on the bent shield of a caravan guard. Getting to his feet with one good eye, a throbbing arm and standing in the gore that surrounded the wagon Balthazar began to run down the line of wagons. Cradling his useless arm, trying to see through the blood that filled his good eye, slipping and sliding in the blood and filth that covered the ground he was determined to get away. As he ran an arrow stung in to his shoulder spinning him sideways and slamming him into the last wagon in line causing him to break three ribs. Momentarily stunned and stationary a sling bullet hit him in the mouth blowing out two of his teeth and laying open his lip. Crawling under the wagon to escape any more arrows or stones he continued to crawl to the back of the wagon towards the empty road behind the caravan. As he emerged one of the yipping creatures pounced from the wagon to his back and began to claw and bite at him breaking off the arrow shaft but leaving the head buried deep in the shoulder. Wounded badly barely able to see or breathe Balthazar figured this was how he would die, killed by some stinking biting yelping thing he had no strength to remove from his back. An arrow meant to end his escape struck the creature passed clean through and almost removed his ear as it hissed by. His fear fueled flight continued for how long he could not say but it seemed like hours of running, stumbling and gasping. Out of fear Balthazar foolishly stayed off the roads, he may have been found sooner if he had remained on the roads but his pain-wracked brain could think of only one thing HOME. When Balthazar woke and found himself home and alive a deep feeling of shame and guilt over took him. He had survived by hiding and the running when many good men had died horribly while fighting. He would never be vulnerable or defenseless again and would never feel ashamed because he had to run away and leave others to die. Balthazar stood up from the table and walked off.
Hildegard cried for hours after Balthazar had finished his horrific recounting of the attack and his remarkable escape. Re-telling the story to Gunter on his return home. Now aware of the ghastly events endured by their son Gunter and Hildegard understood the changes that Balthazar had undergone. Although deeply concerned for Balthazar neither was surprised when he announced he was leaving Leilon for parts unknown.
Balthazar spent his last night with Gunter and Hildegard trying to dissuade their fears and explain his decision to leave the city, his family and the family business behind him for an unknown future on the road. With no real plans Balthazar had quite a time convincing them he knew what he was doing, if in fact he had persuaded them at all. Parents know when the chick must leave the nest and Balthazar had grown his flight feathers. If he would fly or not only the future can say...
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I do not know why I should write any of this down as no bard will ever sing my song nor will I be imortalized in stone. I am but a man; called ruffian or hooligan by some and often worse. What would they know? Few have walked in my shoes and fewer still would have the guts to walk away from the comfortable life I was accustomed to...
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It is true I do live to fight; the exhilaration of hard won battle stirs me like nothing else. I live simply, with little to call my own but none to call master. My sword arm provides much of what I need and my bow the rest. I hunt for food deer and boar or anything else I have eaten things in times of destitution that would make Ghouls retch; yet I persist...
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I have taken the few employment opportunities to be had locally and they have provided coin to add weight to my oft-empty purse. It is true I require little from the local townships but a few rudimentary items I cannot fabricate myself. The surrounding countryside has ample game, both animal and aggressive creatures to satisfy my need for food and combat...
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The closest town, Hlint is as good a place as any to secure essential equipment. I find my quiver is quickly depleted and many of the locals produce a dizzing range of arms, armor and anything one can imagine, much of it is in my opinion frivolous. Many seem too concerned how they look or what someone thinks about them. Too much production for me and I steer clear as much as possible. As much as I dislike the town I must admit it does draw a wide range of skilled warriors both in magic and strong-arms, the races seem to mix freely with little friction, I was surprised to see Elves and Dwarves talking civilly with little or no insults and creatures I would normally draw my weapon on roam the streets conducting business and gossiping like house-girls. Despite my feelings toward most of them, (which I have kept hidden) I have found a few I would cautiously call friend...
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Renji and Tegan, these two I have had recent travels with and I have found them to be industrious and eager for battle like myself. I admit I know little about them save for bits and pieces I have collected in our time on the road, but they know less of me, which I may change in the future. Renji seems to share the same eagerness for strife and adventure as I do. He is excellent with a crossbow and wields two blades, has a penchant for poison and a secretive nature, I like that. Tegan is a fine lass, I believe she is partially Elvin by her looks alone, but I will not ask. She is a fine addition to our forays as she is a magic slinger of some skill; quite a few times her magic has sailed past my ears to strike an opponent. (Unlike Renji, who has put arrows into me.) We have encountered many creatures that defy description or articulate description in our adventures and I am secretly in good spirits when I happen upon either one or both of these fine companions...
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I had the fortune or misfortune, to once again encounter Renji, traveling south with a small group or would-be adventurers, of which I immediately joined. With a wink and a knowing look we had wordlessly formulated a plan to get rich (It is good to have someone so like-minded). Headed for parts unknown with an unknown plan and no organization we found ourselves facing dark spirits by the score and some kind of hulking creature made entirely of bone. The spirits were no problem to overcome but the bone creatures were unaffected by our feeble attempts to fell them, chaos ensued and many were killed. After a valiant rearguard action I was forced into retreat, as the spirits used magic to drain my will and eventually I fell mortally wounded. For the first time...
Luckily I was expelled from the void to find myself in Hlint, dim-witted and weak but among a few of my companions who had also fallen and soon we were on our way back to the field of battle, be it ever so slowly. We returned to the wilds around Fort Velensk and located the survivors of our group; at that point it was decided to assault the Trolls who roam nearby, another well thought out plan with another trip to the void and a long slow trudge back for me. Upon my return I was surprised (be it pleasantly) to find most of our ragged group had dispersed, leaving without their share of gold, (more for me is always better than less.) With just three of us remaining we again (foolishly) attacked the Trolls and this time I survived Renji did not. Unable to make it back on his own, I made for Hlint, Renji and I set off again for the wilds surrounding Fort Velensk to recover his remains. We took a short cut through the Broken Forest and were consequently set upon by Were-beasts and while trying to defend Renji I was once again introduced to the void. I got off easy. The beasts tracked Renji all the way back to Fort Hope and had him trapped at the Inn. Luckily the door of the Inn is much stouter than it looks and he was able to hold them off for quite sometime. I received a bird with word of Renji's predicament and set off to help. When who should I run across but Tegan. Well now...
Always a pleasure to see her, she is very easy to look at and with her magic skills growing daily she is more than a welcomed addition I informed her of the situation and she was more than happy to lend a hand. We eventually rescued Renji and stopped to get a pelt or two for Tegan. While there we had a run in with some bird-girls; Herpies I think Tegan said? Renji and his arrows, Tegan shooting fire (very impressive I must say) and of course me hacking away at these ugly creatures with the for-mentioned missiles singing past my head. What a grand time, a little brawling does wonders for the spirit. Someone mentioned pies and I remember little after that...
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I find myself struggling internally with my views and actions. The war-within is not without casualties, moments of madness seem to well up and I can do odd things and say even stranger things, I would fear these episodes but I am unaware when they strike and often only the strange looks from those around me tell of their surfacing. Am I just along for the ride as this madness runs its course. I am not the same Balthazar I was when I was a boy. The devastation and pain inflicted was so great that even raised well by my parents in a life with little want or hardship, educated and with good manners, I now find myself in contempt of the weak and those who would allow themselves to be victimized. The dichotomy of my actions furthers this conflict as I heal wounded companions without thought of compensation or cost incurred. I protect weaker members, stand rear-guard, shepherd stragglers and defend to the death those around me. Yet I hate them for being weak and would cheat them from their share of the spoils...
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By all outward appearances I am but a normal man, both courteous and civilized. This is but a thin veneer, a Balthazar suit if you will. And this threadbare suit has begun to leak madness. Are there two Balthazars in this body, one dark and malevolent the other respectable and good-natured, battling for control over my corporeal body? The malevolence strains against the fragile bonds that prevent its release. Yet these bonds weaken as I spend increasingly more time in the wilds of this land. Eventually my civility and upbringing will no longer be able to contain this madman inside. Stripped of my sanity and humanity I will be no more than a bipedal animal of instinct and impulse...
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The madness seems to be easing slightly or I may have gone completely around the bend, and just do not know it. I have done much and little in the time since I have written here last. I have found a way to keep coin jingling in my purse and satisfy my love of a good fight. I have become a procurer of interesting and mundane things. I have begun taking contracts to collect and deliver the items that keep this good land functioning and all the skilled tradesmen in business. This business is well suited to a strong back as much as a strong arm and the pay out is enough to keep a tidy profit. This arrangement is two fold; I keep myself in coin and keep myself from wandering aimlessly about and if I have an episode no one is there to notice. I have delivered goods to some of the most respected Artisans and Crafters in the land, on time and on contract is paying off as more contracts come in. I have not as of yet run into problems delivering any of the requested material on time, nor have I completed a contract to find another party has already supplied the materials, leaving me stuck with something I now have to find a buyer for. If things continue as they are word will spread of my dependability in acquisition and delivery opening more jobs and more coin...
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It has been far too long since I last put ink in this book. My self-induced exile has caused me to miss so much, as word of Blood's defeat has only recently reached my ears. (What the cost of this victory was I could only surmise) Little information made it into the deep forest where I was skulking for these long months. The madness I feared has faded and I find myself internally at peace for the first time in years. The wilderness provided as it always has but the healing my troubled soul was unexpected, I no longer feel as if I carry a monster waiting to shed its Balthazar skin and make an escape in the darkness. I regret my absence during such a significant time in history. Although my absence is regrettable it was nonetheless necessary. I was heartened to see many new faces bustling about in Hlint, yet sadness settled about my heart as I searched for familiar faces among the crowds. Where had they all gone? I left to the wilds for me but now I find myself thinking of friends and comrades. How many had fallen in the fight to secure Blood's defeat, How many are nothing but memory?...
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I returned to Hlint a few weeks ago and whom should I find at the lead of a stout party but miss Tegan off to parts unknown. I was a bit surprised not to see her second shadow by the name of Renji. I sat quietly down on the bench near the bank to catch my breath and watch as they prepared to head off. It seems not long ago Renji and I watched her back on many adventures and a few misadventures. Word is she has become quite the spell slinger and to see her at the lead of this group was a great joy. Even with all that was going one she noticed me as I sat and inquired if we had met before, as I reminder her of someone she had not seen in a goodly amount of time. We talked for a short bit and I asked of Renji and was concerned to find he has not been seen in quite sometime. We had many an adventure and he is one of very few I would call friend. With his penchant for trouble I find it easy to believe yet sad that he may be dead. I will hold some hope that he will stroll out of the forest someday no worse for wear. I had a few things for Tegan as usual, seems I always find something for her in my wanderings. Her tailoring skills have grown considerably and I received a magic bag for all the free pelts as she put it. It was Quite the gift for one in my line of work. Being pressed for time with a party to lead we bid each other farewell, I hope to see her again soon as I have much to catch up on. I will keep my eye peeled for her as I walkabout collecting...
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There has been quit a surge in requests for my services. Requests for eggs, aloe and garlic being the most prevalent and time consuming. Not that I am complaining. Corn, devilish corn, boxes and boxes of corn. One would think grinding corn would be the simplest of tasks and one would be wrong apparently. Botching a job as simple as grinding corn is quite the blow to ones ego then you get used to it. Chickens on the other hand, what can I say? I like them roasted? It makes me wonder if the gods put them here as a joke, the punch line being the on going frustration of mortals. The times I have threatened these maddening creatures with my sword or tried to strangle the eggs from them are as numerous as the stars in the night sky.
*(Do they really continue to run around when their head is removed? Further investigations may be necessary, maybe a field-test or five)*
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I seem to have generated some interest in myself The Dragon's Whisper is looking to do a story,on me of all People. With so many famous and interesting folks I should wonder why I came into light of their interest. Well I do not look on this opportunity blindly. More exposure means more work, more work means more coin. I look forward to the issuance of the article and suspect I will get to read it months after its release. I doubt the Whispers messengers will find it easy to track me down as I forage in the deep woods and dusty deserts of Mistone or Milara.
I have taken one of the notices for posterity
*One page parchment notice, folded neatly to fit in the book*
Wanted:
The Dragon's Whisper is putting a bounty out for a write-up on Balthazar Woll His ability to scrounge the lands for nature's bounties seems unprecedented. What drives someone to such pursuits? Where does this person hail from? What drives them now and into the future? Have they goals beyond this? The Dragon's Whisper wants to know.
Those wishing to collect this bounty mark their names below. Editor reserves right to choose which writer collects the fee. All articles due by Mai 17, 1403.
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I aquired a copy of the Whisper and after reading itI am surprised to find myself feeling a bit homesick. I should return home to look in on my parents one day soon. I have decided to keep the pages...
*The following is torn from the Dragon's Whisper...*
That potion in your pocket, the armor on your back, your shield, your arrows ever wonder who collected those materials for the craftsman?
My parents, Hildegard and Gunter, raised me in Leilon where they run an import-export business. I was raised well and never wanted for much, other than the adventure all young boys seek. I have nothing but fond memories of growing up under my parents tutelage. Leilon and the family business kept me busy and out of any real trouble. I am sure my father expected as did I, that I would take over from him when decided he had been at it long enough, but my mother I think she just new it would not be so. Mothers seem to receive True Seeing as a gift at the birth of their first child, as I got away with very little whenever she was around. Although I doubt she had any idea what would be the catalyst for that conclusion.
It was a fine day when I left with a caravan of war materials for the fight against Blood and his army a fine day to be totally destroyed a fine day to start a new life. I will not bore you with the details or I just may be sparing myself the pain remembering my own cowardice. That is how I gained the scar and lost my eye.
Everything changed after my escape and recovery. I could not go back to my life; I had changed too much to fit back in to the hole. Training long hours with blade and shield. I also worked with bows but having only one eye makes it hard to judge distance and as a result I am a laughingly bad bowman. I do carry one just for the off chance I find the broadside of a barn in need of smiting. I left home for anywhere months later and soon found myself in that quaint little town Hlint.
I hated Hlint and all it s inhabitants, weak, needing someones help for everything, never fending for themselves, taken advantage of by everyone, spineless like sheep. I can say now I no longer feel that way, Hlint like a fungus seems to have grown on me in these many months. I still venture in to Hlint as little as possible but not for any specific reasons. I find conversation tedious at best and feel I should be doing something, anything but sitting idly by gossiping about the weather or who is doing what. I don't wish to seem aloof, it is only I have this need to be doing something hence my scrounging service was born.
These lands hold a great wealth of skilled craftsmen; Armorers, Tailors, Brewers, Gem Smiths, the list is a long as some of the Elvin names you hear in town. I have very little wish to be a great craftsman, I need only to make what little I require to survive. With the enormous numbers of crafters I was seeing requests for this or that posted all over the inn and trade hall. I did a few jobs in Hlint but the ol' coin purse was awfully empty, necessity may be the mother of invention but poverty is the mother-in-law. I was sure that with all their time spent crafting the tedious job of collecting all the materials was not only distracting them from their chosen profession but somewhat boring or even dangerous for them.
No better job for me! What could be better than being outdoors, traveling the byways and paths of this land? I can fight when I want, or need to. I have no one to tell me what to do I am my own man. I have seen many amazing sights and met interesting folks from all over the land along the way. My ambitions are simple, complete contracts on time, in quantity and get paid I find satisfaction in delivering a requested quota. What will they do with it? What will it become? I have worked for many of the greatest smiths of this age, helped them to create exceptional items of beauty and power. I do not expect my customers to call me friend, only to call me when they need delivery...
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Home a strange thought after so many years. What does home mean now?Could I just walk through that door and sit at my fathers table again? Talk with my mother of trivial things after the things I have seen and done? How would I tell her of the slaughter of entire Goblin tribes, the crippling nausea that accompanies the bite of spiders, the lingering smell of burned flesh that penetrates the clothing and permeates the hair after a flame strike or fire ball has done its horrific work? Would I be able to hold a respectably civil tongue? Would my father receive me well as the man I am now? Sitting across from me would he smell the taint of death? I have never killed good men but I am a killer nonetheless. How would I explain the difference between the man who quietly fishes for delicate trout and the other, his face splashed with gore after hacking limbs from Orcs? Is there really a dissimilarity of the two? Can one really return home to be forgiven and his past forgotten, can it be that simple...
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The decision to return home is an oddly complicated one, and has been gnawing at me for weeks. Sleep has become a deeply missed companion. How hard can it be? It is a simple journey, nothing imposing along the way. I find myself wanting to return but taking no more than a few steps before stopping. What is it that stops me in my tracks? Fear, Regret? Neither of these are strangers. I have felt fear many times and regret; who does not have regrets? Many would find going home the simplest of decisions and some can do nothing but wish of returning. I have my work, many depend on me Should I merely flip a true? Crown I go, seal I stay...
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I have decided to return home. More to the point I have resigned myself to the fact something else wants me to return home. I flipped the true, crown, so I flipped it again and it again was crown. Every time I flipped that true it came up crown. I tried another and another and finally one more. How can that be? Finally out of frustration I threw the contents of my coin pouch into the air. Gods be! Every single true was a crown! Only a fool would disregard this as chance. I will complete my current obligations and immediately set out for home...
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My return home did not go as I had hoped...
The city itself is much as I recall it as a child save for the weather, the darkened sky and frequent snow lend an air menace to the city, and the once busy streets are peculiarly vacant. I remember merchants hawking their wares calling in customers with booming voices, mothers shopped for the day’s meal while children looked dreamily at the sweets displayed in windows and toys arranged on tables. The boisterous sounds of laughter and haggling, the mummer of hundreds of voices, the overlapping sounds of livestock a city full of life I can still hear it all.
The streets and buildings were the same but the city itself seems to have taken another quality. A strange feeling of foreboding settled around me as I moved along the streets and alleys, I felt as if I was being squeezed fear perhaps? I know fear as well as any and more than most yet this was different. Trapped was more like it, high walls and narrow streets all pressed in on me as I moved along. I half expected to hear the sounds of splintering wood and grinding stones as the buildings pressed inward towards me. I was born in this city, why should I be so uneasy within its walls now? I walked these very streets as a child, never did I feel uneasy. The occasional beggar or cut-purse crossed my path, little more than an annoyance and far from dangerous. What has changed to bring such a crushing dread to bear down on me?
I stopped first at my family's shop only to find it locked up tight. Odd, why would it be closed at this time of day? A glimpse through a dusty window only deepened my concern. Expecting to find the well stocked shop I remember, I could see no sign of inventory or even that anyone had been inside for quite sometime. Something more than concern began to well up within me. Why is the shop empty? My father's business was thriving, caravans left laden with goods for many ports several times a week. Reputable merchants sent runners to fill orders, the casual customer walking in off the street to peruse the goods or place an order. The door never seemed to close, but now..?
I made inquiries to men whom my father had dealings with for many years, merchants, men-at-arms anybody I could think of that may have any information at all. Very few had actual information and some would not even talk with me, very strange.
I left what had been the family business and moved quickly along the streets towards my parent's house.
I was unprepared for the scene that met my eye. My family home burned to the ground, nothing remained except for a few charred beams and the chimney which leaned inward at a grotesque angle. Shocked I starred blankly at the remains of the house I had been raised in. It took several minutes before I could move into the wreckage, covered in a blanket of snow but still smelling faintly of smoke. I searched for any sign of my parents, wondering if they had been in the house when it burned. After hours of turning over beams and scorched planks I could find no sign of remains, burned or other wise.
I did find my mothers necklace, warped by the heat but still discernable as the one she always wore. Did this mean they had perished and their bodies had been removed for burial? Tears freely fell for the first time in more years then I can remember. How long I sat in that ruin I do not know...
Memories flooded in, my mother humming softly as she rocked me back to sleep after a bad dream had awoken me, sitting at the table and listening to my father talk of business while my mother busied herself with the evening meal, the look of horror on my mothers face as I described the attack that changed her son so terribly.
I needed to find out what had transpired. Was it an accidental fire, had a candle toppled and set a rug alight, or something more devious? Surely the neighbors would know, they have lived alongside my family for many years, they must know.
John Galassi was the only one to speak to me; the others quickly shut their doors upon seeing my face without a word. Mr. Galassi had worked with my father on many occasions and often spent evenings in our house sharing a meal. John and my father spent hours discussing shipment plans, the best routs for a caravan, who to hire on as security or how many were needed. I respected John as much as I did my father; he held the only answers I was likely to get about what happened to my family.
John hustled me inside quickly and took a brief look around the street before closing and securely bolting the door behind us. Ushered into a seat by the fire and offered a nip of strong spirits. I opened my mouth to speak; John's up raised hand and dour look stopped me mid word. In a voice almost a whisper John uttered one word, treason What in the hells did he mean treason! What did my parents have to do with treason? My father supplied arms and made shipment after shipment during the war. Many caravans left loaded to the tarpaulin with weapons and supplies of all types, the pack animals straining under the weight. The numbers of men, who were armed with weapons supplied by my father I can only speculate. How could anyone brand my father with such a word? Anger welled up; I felt I would kill poor John for voicing such an absurd accusation. I could not of course kill John, a family friend for so long and the only neighbor who would even open their door to me. Still angry but trying to remain calm I asked, who had leveled this charge? What evidence did they offer as proof? John despondently took a cloth covered object from the shelf along the fireplace and slowly removed it. He laid the weapons on the table; simple battle axes, nothing fancy or exceptional about them just like the thousands in use in any militia or army. This was proof of treason; two commonplace axes had been enough to destroy all my family had worked years to achieve? Still unclear as to how these axes had brought my parents to charges of treason. John must have seen the bewilderment on my face, he turned one of the weapons on its axis and then I could clearly see it. I now knew how these were linked to my family In the light of the fire I could see the brand on the shaft; the familiar WSc of Woll Shipping Company.These indeed had been shipped by my father. Now that it was certain as to the origin of the axes just how did that constitute treason? Thousands perhaps millions of weapons had been shipped during the war years what made these such damming evidence? I opened my mouth to ask this very question but I was once again slower than John; recovered from the field during a campaign against Blood's troops. I do not think I could have spoken even if I knew what to say. John continued on to tell me that nearly twenty companies of Blood's forces had been equipped with weapons and armor bearing the Woll Shipping Company brand. How could this be? My father would never have supplied weapons to the enemy. Every shipment went to the war effort, to the defense of freedom and ultimately to victory. Never will I believe he had willingly supplied Blood, there must be some mistake, and a rational explanation has to exist for all of this. Continuing on John stated that the weapons and an accusation of war profiteering brought by another merchant were enough to bring the treason charge. War profiteering, thats absurd, my father thought nothing of payment for the equipment. His only thought was to supply the war effort, defeat the enemy and then and only then worry about collecting any debts he was owed. I know he was not paid for many of his shipments as embattled armies soon collapsed under the weight of the enemy.
He further explained that there had been no trial nor were my parents even arrested; there had been no time. Word spread and the frightened, war weary populace took it upon them selves to dispense what they perceived as justice. What actually happened to my parents is unclear; weather they fled or were killed in the fire that razed my home is still a mystery. He is sure they were not taken into custody; he has made some quite inquiries in to that. As to where they are or if they are still alive he does not know. The anger I had been barely containing boiled in to rage, I was ready for murder. I wanted to burn the whole city to the ground, wanted to cast its pitiful inhabitants out into the cold just as they had done to my parents. Through clenched teeth I asked the name of this merchant whom leveled the war profiteering claim. John was reluctant to provide me his name as he could see it ending badly, murder seldom goes over well. With a hissed promise to leave him breathing, I was able to coax a name from him; Vymetal. Stanley, Vymetal...
When I could again hear past the rage pounding in my head, John continued on about how the good mister Vymetal had been able to purchase my father's business for a pittance, acquire my father's customers, his inventory; and turned into quite the prosperous little business man in one fortuitous and profitable stroke.
Standing, I thanked John for his hospitality. I must have had murder in my eye and John afraid I was going to something foolish tried to talk me out of leaving. Assuring him I had no intention of swinging from a rope for slipping my blade between the ribs of Mr. Vymetal, I reached for the door. John asked what I was going to do now. I replied I was going to see a man about paying a debt. Closing the door behind me I stepped into the night.
I had not lied to John; I had no intention of swinging on the end of a rope. As for slipping my blade into Vymetal...well, we will see about that...
-
Walking through the darkened city my head buzzed with all I had learned but more ominously what I had not learned. What had become of my parents, with charges of treason and war profiteering looming had my parents fled the city ahead of the mob, or had they died when their home was set ablaze? Vymetal, what was his connection to all this? Had he seen an opportunity to profit and seized upon it? Was he more directly involved; perhaps somehow connected to the weapons making their way to the enemy? So many questions and so few people willing to give answers, perhaps it is their motivation that I need to work on.
I need to pay Mr. Vymetal a call, ask a few discrete questions or perhaps a few direct ones. I hope for his sake he has the answers I want; if not then I will have to be persuasive, he will not like being persuaded. I will get the answers I need if I have to remove every one of his fingers, toes, hands, feet and eyes; then if I have to I will get serious.
Never in my life would I have thought that I could talk of torture or even murder with such indifference, such clarity. He will give me the answers I seek or he will tell me who has them. Either way I will have answers...
-
I have done little but think about Vymetal and my parents. Thankfully I have no contracts to fulfill as I would undoubtedly default on delivery. I have become consumed with the thought of vengeance, everything else is inconsequential. I have barely eaten or slept since leaving John's home nearly two weeks ago...
-
I've scouted Vymetal's home and business for nearly a week now, his schedules and habits run like the tide; accurate and predictable. The same places at the same time day after day after day. It has became almost a child's game to track him through the city; I can turn a corner just as he appeared on the street then casually stroll from an alley one step behind him without looking. The only place he has any security is his home; two large men loiter around his front door and two more around back. His house is modest nothing too big or opulent; in fact it reminded me of my parent's home.
As being neither a skilled rogue nor assassin I would not be able to take him at his home. I could take his men with little trouble but a clash on the street would bring unwanted scrutiny and disposing of four, perhaps five bodies would be too time-consuming and subject to discovery by a passing sentry or watch. Not to mention the lock that is most assuredly securing his door; his men? No problem, the lock? No chance. Snatching him from the street or perhaps the Leringard Arms may be the best course of action. He spends several hours at the Arms every Freas evening. Being a rather busy night at the Arms I could go relatively unnoticed amongst the evening crowd. He tends to drink rather heavily while there and I doubt he would even acknowledge my arrival. A bit of poison mixed with invisibility potion in his drink might do the trick; incapacitated and invisible I could stroll right out the front door with him and no one would be the wiser.
I can hear the gossip now.
Did you hear poor Mr. Vymetal has vanished without a trace...
That nice merchant fellow?
Yes, he just disappeared!
Nobody knows what happened to him?
Everyone is talking about it, no one has any idea..
Not quite so my dear....
-
I will take Vymetal at the Arms on Freas evening. Securing the required supplies was laughably easy; these lean times have increased the power of coin ten fold allowing it to buy not only supplies but silence and anonymity as well. I thought the purchase of poisons might raise a few eyebrows or at least some questions. Fortunately hungry mouths ask few questions.
Everything is in place. I have a plan, I have the tools and I have his routine but do I have the fortitude to see this through?
How far am I willing to take this?
Do I have the stomach to do what may be necessary?
What am I willing to do to get answers?
What will I do with him when I have all the answers he can give?
I cannot simply release him as he would know my face as well as my name. I doubt he would simply let it go after being abducted and tortured, what do I do then? Can I so easily go from an easy going nomadic gatherer to kidnapper, torturer and finally to murderer in one awful step?...
-
Simply releasing him is not possible, I have not come to this decision easily nor have I dismissed the ramifications. I still hear the cries of the wounded from that long ago ambush, how long will I hear Vymetals pleads and screams when I am done? I feel sick at times when I think about what I may be forced to do if he will not offer up answers readily. If I am discovered during the abduction I will be assured of a lengthy sentence. If his murder is traced to me I will receive a much shorter sentence, followed by a similarly short drop at the end of a rope...
-
My plans have been delayed...
Word from John sent me to Hurm in search of information. Securing passage from Leringard to Hurm was not difficult; it did however prove to be problematic. It would seem I had arranged passage with the only crew who could not find the end of the world if they sailed off it.
I was quite angrily and unceremoniously disembarked in Lor of all places. Lor I was to find is as far as you can get from Hurm and still be on the same continent. After trying to get back to Leringard from Lor only to find no captain would make the trip I was forced to make the trip on foot. After several unsuccessful and more than one nearly fatal attempts to reach Hurm I gave up. I spent nearly a month trapped on Dregar, with little to do except harvest corn. I had just about given up the hopes of ever getting off when I came across the grave of a regular customer; Malor Lucredious. With the obvious evidence of his presence I kept my eye open for him as I believed he could help me reach Hurm. I was not disappointed in this belief as he maintains a residence in Haft Lake, which I was pleased to discover, contains a portal of some sort. He was gracious enough to allow me access to this portal and I was soon on my way home. Although my time table has been disrupted it should not take long to get back on schedule, much to Mr. Vymetals regret...
-
* Bloody fingerprints line the edges of the following few pages*
It is done
-
* Bloody fingerprints line the edges of the following few pages*
It is done
-
* Bloody fingerprints line the edges of the following few pages*
It is done
-
* Bloody fingerprints line the edges of the following few pages*
It is done
-
*Bloody fingerprints line the edges of the page*
It is done...
Thankfuly the words spilled from Vymetal faster than his blood or he would have bled dry long before he finished talking.
I know the entire story; that it has come full circle to this conclusion seems fitting if not inevitable. Beginning well before my birth, I have none the less become the central character; a character both good and evil.
Thirty years of bad blood have paved the path Vymetal and I now stand upon. Thirty years of envy and dissagreement. Thirty years of scheeming, planning and waiting, waiting for that perfect moment, that ungarded moment...that quick opportunity to slip the blade deep.
My father and Vymetal were more than just businessmen and more than just competitors; closer to opposing Dietys really. The Toran and Corath of the shipping industry it would seem the way Vymetal spoke. Just as a war between dietys would wreak havoc, the war between my father and Vymetal albeit on a smaller scale was not without death and destruction.
Considered less than reputable; Vymetal made his fortunes in the back alley and tavern deals he made with anyone for the right price. Anything, anywhere for anybody as long as the coin was good. Charging robbery prices, blackmail and extortion were just a few of his services. Always trying to drag my father into his scheems only served to expand the rift between the two.
A little back story seemed to make him feel justified in what he had done and perhaps he thought I would be lieniant with him as he portrayed himself the innocent victim.
While he still had his hands Vymetal was a little reluctant to speak of what happened to my parents; not so much afterward...
These were the answers I wanted, the ones I had to have and the very reason he lay dying at my feet. I did not expect to find he was responsible for the ambush that took my eye all those years ago. It seems I have him to thank for the man I have become. The irony that he created his own executioner so many years ago nearly made me laugh out loud. A plan to steal the shipment of weapons and supplies was agreed upon over a pint, information passed and money exchanged. A few days later men died screaming while Vymetal counted his profit. With the weapons in the hands of the enemy it was only a matter of time before some would be recovered and my father charged with treason.
By his own admission it worked better than he had planned. The populace exhausted and fearful reacted swiftly, even Vymetal was surprised by their actions; angry mobs tend to be unpredictable.
My parents were able to get away before the house was set alight but they were picked up by Vymetal's men and taken to his residence. They were eventually killed and their bodies dumped into the sea. Shortly thereafter Vymetal was to realize his dream of beating my father and possessing what he had wanted for so many years; the aquisition of the company and its extensive client lists. Money and the fortitude shown by my father to challenge Vymetal at every turn had sentenced both of them to death; it just took thirty years for the sentence to be carried out.
I removed his eyes because I wanted to...his tongue because I had heard enough...and finally his head because I wanted him to stop gurgling and die.
I left him unburied in the forest; Ravens and worms need to eat same as men...
-
I have left Mistone for the time being.
It has been weeks since my talk with Vymetal and I have moved my operations, so to speak to Dregar. I do not feel I am under any suspicion for the unfortunate disappearance of poor Mr. Vymetal, nor does there seem to be any indication that anybody is looking. Since I was erroneously dropped in Lor I have become quite fond of the area and even purchased a house in Haft Lake. I never thought much about having a place to call home again but it seemed the right thing to do and my mother's necklace now hangs above the fireplace. Sparse as it may be it still provides a place to get out of the rain; it is odd to have a roof over my head after being in the open for so long, I still sleep on the floor but that will change in time.
The weight of not knowing what happened to my family has lifted; learning what I did from Vymetal was truly awful but knowing the truth is better than not.
I have little difficulties living with what I have done...
-
I have not written a thing in this journal in more months than I can recall. The days slipped by turning into months and few notable events punctuated the time, none noteworthy enough to waste time or ink by putting them here.
With the months of wandering behind me I once again find myself in the familiar routine of collecting the abundant resources that have returned with the sunshine. I had forgotten the feeling of accomplishment that a pack fit to bust brings me. Such a simple pleasure, so easily forgotten and so sorely missed.
On occasion my dealings with Vymetal have come to mind and I wonder if things could have or for that matter should have turned out differently. The passage of time has smoothed over the rough edges and I hardly recall the entire string of events. Not to say I have forgotten what transpired, only that I have a reduced view so to speak. I have wondered now and again if my chosen approach to handling the situation was . no not so much correct but as justifiable? Have I a stain on my soul, perhaps a scar.? Have I sacred my soul as surly as the ax did my face? Can just retribution be handed down only by those following a just God? If you have no God or yours is dark is it only murder then? When my days come to an end will what ever God claims me look upon my scar? And when they do will all of the events unfold before their eyes as it did mine? Will they see my actions for what I believe they were or will the clarity granted only to Deities reveal a different narrative? Were I before a God of light would I be judged unworthy and cast from their domain upon this judgement? If it were a dark God would I then be given entry on this same act? Is a man who claims no God capable of dispensensing justice with good conscience or are these rights reserved solely for Justicers and Paladins? Can I clense my soul with a few prayers and some incense as easily as I washed his blood from my hands?
Should I be allowed such a simple act of penitence...
-
Trouble seems to finds me in even in the most unlikely places, namely the Craft Hall!
I received a message from Tegan (the only person I would use the word friend with) that I was carrying several boxes of goods that she had interest in, so I immediately made for Hemp to deliver her request.
Admittedly I spend as little time as possible within the walls of any city and thus I am not as familiar with the twists and turns of the streets as most, adding that to the length of time since I was last in Hemp I became ridiculously lost. I eventually had to send Rufus off to find Tegan and deliver my note informing her of my plight and requesting directions from my current location to theCraft Hall. With her help I was with much embarrassment able to arrive at the craft hall. As usual she was working at the tailoring tables but this time she was not the one hard at work but another, who went by Lex (or was it Lexx) and Sall who I can only guess is Tegan's other half. My usual lack of social skill made itself readily apparent as I was once again relegated to short sentences and poor math skills while figuring the total cost. (it would seem I am better suited to listening than taking part in conversation, not surprising with the little social interaction I have). My initial price was a bit high but we eventually came to a mutually beneficial agreement; a hefty sack of coins, two lion bags and tow elemental resistances, one fire and the other eletrical. The bags are particularly handy to a pack rat like me. The powers imbued on the bag reduces the weight of the items carried within them allowing me to carry much more than a standard box would. Tegan has furnished me with all the bags I currently carry and anytime they are offered I am glad to accept them from her.
The trouble arrived in the form of a wild and rapid dart attack on Tegan by what I can only describe as a figure, as I saw little details other than the darts zipping past. There was talk but being outside the group I have little knowledge of past attecks, reasons for such or even a possible assailant. With the current situation unfolding and my distain for being confined within city walls I said my farewells and departed for the openess of the counrtyside.
( I will keep my eye and ears open for anything that might be helpful)
-
Again I find myself lacking to keep events in this book current....
I have begun to adventure regularly with an odd group of individuals; Grim the sullen Dwarf, 'Green' an Elf ranger and what I can only geuss is a Half-Orc named Mukh...or something close to that, he mostly just grunts...
this 'Ragtag Circus' must seem odd... A stumpy Dwarf, a willow-thin Elf, a one eyed fighter and a hulking behemoth...just need to find a goblin now. The circumstances of our meeting are truly beyond me, we just sort of 'found' eachother and after a few terse words and one fatal incounter ( Grim and Green ) put our differences aside and banded together for adventure and fortune. We are an odd lot to be sure but we get the job done well and the topics of conversation that come up are something to behold and I look forward to our next adventure with as much interest as I have of our past exploits.
As I wave goodbye to my solitary ways I feel little regret.
-
I realized I have not updated my order totals in quite sometime.
When I read these I now know why I never have time to adventure with others...
UPDATED
12 bx Almonds
14 bx Grapes
21 bx Angelica Leaves
11 bx Walnuts
26 bx of Salt
56 bx of Silk
46 bx Elderberries
200 bx Corn
77 bx Eggs
400 Alchemists Fire
200 Acid Flasks
250 Fire Beetles
200 Bombardier Beetles
9 bx Purple Mushrooms
8 bx Dire Boar pelts
4 bx White Mushrooms
61 bx Skeleton Knuckles
6 bx Raven Feathers
33 bx Garlic
14 bx Blackberries
3 bx Cocktrice Feathers
38 bx Comfrey
66 bx Aloe
12 bx Cotton
28 bx Cranberries
11 bx Lion Pelts
9 bx Hill Hound Pelts
21 bx Apples
-
I have been traveling much lately, yet I have not so much as collected a single nut, berry or piece of corn. Odd that I should find myself straying so far from the habbitual practice of picking up every piece of anything I come a cross. For years I have relentlessly and singlemindedly picked up everything in my path as I speculated on the market for goods... I do not think I have squandered those years as I have made a fine living, I have a place to call my own, weapons and armor to save my skin and untill recently a sizable vault account, now virtually empty. *what appears to be a tear stain on the paper* The need for new equiepment has seriously depleted my funds but I could go no longer without new stuff...
I have ventured out with many fine folks, to many places, some worse than others and with varring degrees of success. A few of the newest cohorts were Caerwyn and Fianon, two aspiring 'scroungers'. We had been on a few expiditions together but never had a chance to really talk...I was invited with them as they sought a more direct route throught the forrest. Caer did an excellent job of leading, his directions clear and his tactics simple. When he had doubts (which was few) he had no trouble defering to the more seasoned of the group for advice how to proceed. After a short detour to the desert to help a nice lass named Hanta we met on the road, we were back on track for the Silkwood. I showed them where to find garlic, what kinds of critters lurk in the darkness there and somr tips on how best to handle them. With garlic in hand we retired to the fire and spent several hours discussing the 'finer' points of collecting. I tried to pass on as much I know of the subject and any advice I could think of. Off the top of my head the three biggest discussion points were
1. Collect by contract only;
'Freerange' collecting has several issues and each presents its own problem. The biggest is a surplus of goods on hand, those goods now need to be sold 'on the street' and what you do not sell right away take up valuble space and increase weight.
2.Keep your eye on the market hall;
Stay current with the prices.
Get a 'feel' for what is in demand
See who needs things the most often.
3.The price of your goods;
Everyone wants top coin for their work but do not gouge your customers. Know the lowest price you will accept.
Comodity cost vs time cost (how difficult is it for YOU to gather the product) and adjust accordingly.
I have made a good living from my collecting but it has cost me in return i have few friends but I am rapidly (more so than I thought) finding good folks to travel with and even some I regularly have as companions. Perhaps my solitary collecting days are over, what will I do now........
-
I almost forgot.....FINALLY I can scratch out the Bugbears near mariner's Hold. Been trying to get that off my 'to do list' for YEARS! tried a few times on my own, got pretty far too. Tried with various parties but they mostly ended up dead and I had to fight my way out alone...I was able to convince an OLD friend of mine to help me out with it and with her help we mopped the floor with them Bugbears. they was so scared of her powers that they R.U.N.N.O.F.T and we walked out of there just as pleasent as a day in the park...
-
Another thing of note... I beat Shiff in the arena.
Well sort of...I was wearing ALL my gear.....Shiff....well, he was wearing...pants...
We went again but this time he had a hammer and I DO remember him swinging it in my direction...
The floor in the arena is quite exquisite, I inspected it closely for quite a while...I think one of my teeth may be on the bottom of his boot...I don't recall swallowing it.
I need to get it back... Now I sometimes make a funny whistling sound when I talk.
-
I bumped into Tegan and Shiff's wife in Crest Hills, they had been exploring a cave. I had been there a few months before but it went very badly for me. I was once again forced into an introduction with the Soul mother when some sort of demon used my face to wipe off something it had stepped in earlier that day...
With her usual pizaz she gave me the strength to repay that big ugly bastard for his hospitality...If revenge is best served cold, than a good old asskick'n is best served piping HOT!
-
Rufus has been unable to contact anyone for the last few days, so I once again find my self running on my own. Not complaining though, been a busy few weeks. Lot of Giants lately...seems everytime I turn around one a them big brutes is headed right for me. I wonder if I got too close to a female and now I smell like a good time...might have to bathe...(its only been a week though). Being tired of Giants and looking for a treat I set off for some Troll hunting...Way too much fish and bear meat lately, been hankering for some Troll headcheese. So I set off, all giddy with the thought and would'nt ya know it things got a little dicey...
So there I was...all buffed up and ready to rush this particularly large Troll. I throw on a little extra speed from my belt and I'm off...and as I'm hurtling at this brute outta nowhere I trip over a root. What followed was an unmitigated disaster...I loose my sword as I go head-over-heels and land sprawled in the muck with my helmet turned sideways so I'm looking out the ear hole. (NEED TO FIX THE CHIN STRAP SOON) All that noise totaly blew my chance at sruprise and that big fella was looking like he was all about a little canned Bal for breakfast. So here I am...no sword...my helmet on sideways and with only my shiled still in my hands trying to brace for collision. Not a mere twenty from me and closing fast that big sucker went and found his own root! WHOP right in the mud and he slides right up to where I'm standing. Now I'm thinking I MIGHT get outta there with my skin and about that time he starts to make a move to get up...
Like I been struck by lightning I jump up on his back and commence to wallop him about the head with my shield...now I dunno if you have ever struck something meaty with YOUR shield, but it made sort of a hollow BONG everytime I hit him. The insanity of the situation coupled with that sound, I just sort of lost it and started to cackle uncontrollably...
I can only imagine what it would have looked like...A man covered in muck...his helmet on cockeyed...standing on the back of a prone Troll...beating the stuffing out of it with his SHIELD...and all the while cackling like some demented witch from a childs story...
-
Although the headcheese is worth it, I forget how gassy Troll makes me...I nearly suffocated myself durnig the night and I've had to keep upwind of myself for two days now... I'm finding that surprisingly difficult ...
-
Lately I realized I have been waging what seems to be a war with Giants, be they forest or desert it matters little. As I leave these great mounds of meat to rot in the woods or cook in the brutal sun of the desert It came to me...I should find something useful to do with the remains. Maybe I could make a Giant skin rug, possibly a tent for six, even overcoats that repel water or oversized bags that one could wear on their back?
....the rug would look nice in front of my fire place...
Up to now all my efforts to successfully skin one have met with complete failure, I do not know if the flaw lay in my skinning method or possibly the tools I have been trying to use? I have been able to partially remove the hide but find the added difficulty of peeling it from the immense amount meat beneath to really be a two person job. Unlike animal hides the sheer bulk of the carcass creates the problem of fully de-gloving it. (Ever tried to roll a dead Giant over?)
If I find a market for Giant 'products' I may revisit my earlier ideas...until then I will cease any attempts of possible recovery...
-
I swear if Sein lights me up just one more time with that lightning spell, I will strip naked, run through that cavern yelling like a madman and bring every Giant in the place right back round to him...(no maybe not, but it is getting very old very quickly)
His spells are remarkably effective in allowing me to not only survive the vicious blows dispensed by them beasties but to retaliate in kind. Things will go well for a while and perhaps he gets bored back there (I wish he would get a hobby) but inevitably he will let fly with that 'Zapbang'...
My hair stands up, my eye feels like its going to pop out, my jaw clamps shut with such force I think my teeth will shatter, my armor heats up painfully and every muscle in my body goes ridged (Very unfortunate while one is surrounded by Giants) and then only to find I have come out worse then they have...very distressing...a bit disconcerting...and... so NOT HELPFUL.
Thankfully the electrical resistance carried on my gloves does help; I would hate to feel the effects un-dissipated. Still not a great experience...Perhaps I can fabricate some way to dissipate the charge? Maybe some platinum wire strung off the back to trail along the ground would work...(might get tangled or trip on it, not much good all sprawled out looking like some junk dealers wares). Maybe bounce this idea off a Gnome or two they are pretty inventive...
-
I believe in the powers of the gods; as I have seen the 'gifts' granted to devout followers.
I follow parts of the teachings from many; in one form or another.
I claim none as my own, nor do I have any wish to do so.
So which one had a moment to spare and decided to align the stars against me?
What a day...
It started out as any day would...lately....the sun came up. I had been moving chests around in the house and needed to get rid of some junk so off I went to the 'junk dealer'. Paying robbery prices for everything I carried... (I'm sure he closed up shop for the day after I left)... With a little coin and much more room I headed home again. With the work done at the house I figured a little 'zap-poof' to Wayfair was in order, so I locked up and used the house portal.
So up to this point everything is going just fine... (If you consider legal robbery fine) ...
My arrival in Wayfair; normal.
Hemp. Fields; just fine and dandy.
Pond and gate; still right where I left em both.
So I stride in to Hemp happy go lucky and feeling swell. I throw a hand and a greeting to Lati...(think she is starting to come around...maybe I can get dinner arranged soon.)...Things going real fine still, no worries. I see a group by the fountain, not unusual. As I get closer I see it is Sall, Tegan, a Dwarf I don't recognize and one more, but for the life of me I cannot remember who... I see they are having a discussion so I wave and sit a ways away not to interrupt or eavesdrop. I no sooner apply pressure to my behind then Tegan asks if I'm being anti-social...no, not really just polite. So I get up and move towards em all and that's when things got weird...
Now Tegan and I go waaay back, I figure close to twenty years now... (If not more)...
We been friends for so long that I remember when she would use me as cover; standing behind me spitting out spells, just given em hell. She had power in those days but NOTHING like what she wields these days, now I use HER as cover! ... (When I get the chance)...
So, back to the weird part...
I stroll up just as pretty as you please and Sall starts throwing funny stares at me, Hells he staring DAGGERS at me. Which is kind of odd as I never had no problems with him, ever...
So he's given me them funny looks and turns to head off. Tegan calls him a chicken, which I think is kinda funny as Sall and chicken is two words I would not put together in the same sentence. But it REALLY irritated Sall and he come back and starts talking about "keep your hands outta my flower patch" and so I'm thinking 'when the hell did Sall take up gardening'...and from there it got really, really weird...
It seems a friend of Sall's named (Ark... something) gave Tegan a flower and said it was from me... After Teagn had said I was cute or something to that effect, how I even came up is still a bit hazy to me...and well you can guess how that went over with Sall... So I have blindly walked into a situation where one man... (Sall aint no midget neither)...thinks I gave his WIFE a flower... (Now the flower patch bit makes sense)
....WHY ME....
So here is Sall thinking I gave Tegan a flower, Tegan thinks it came from me as well, seeing how this Ark fella said so... (I can see her believing it...we been friends a long time)... Not only do these two think I've done this but the surly little dwarf is getting all hot and bothered, yelling at me...poking me with her axe...calling me Cyclops...and threaten me with bodily harm... (Sall is looking pretty happy about it too)...The whole time I'm trying to figure out just what planet I've arrived on and can I still get pies here? Trying to explain I have nothing to do with it AND fend off this damned Dwarf broad, who looks like she wants to pull off my head and pack the hole with dung. This whole time I don't think anybody but Tegan has even noticed I'm a bit lost and woefully unprepared...She says she believes me as I have NEVER lied to her in the past. Sall on the other hand takes this to mean I'm calling his friend is a liar and I'm just trying to deflect the blame to someone else...and back in comes Doorstop the Dwarf, saying I'm working for this Ark fella and he's a disgrace... and she otta this... and thinking she'll do that...and it goes on and, and on, and on... About this time I'm thinking of stuffing her under a bench and putting that axe she's again poking me with someplace dark and dank! Doorstop is still going on about leaving Tegan alone and I'm some sort of trouble maker...Sall's still looking at me real unfriendly like...Tegan I think does believe me but I feel like maybe something has changed or been damaged by this meat pie Ark's joke or what ever it was MEANT to be...
So to Tegan the flower is no big deal...well to a WOMAN the flower aint! As men we know different, we know EXACTLY what it means...Tegan's thinking friendly gesture...Sall on the other hand thinking...INVASION...STAND BY TO REPEL BOARDERS!!... And all I can come up with is HUH?
I'm thinking Sall you dolt, how could I steal her by giving her a flower? YOU gave her a CHILD...child trumps flower in my book. I've never even looked at Tegan cross-eyed, where does this all come from...hell twenty years ago I might have (probably should have) given her a flower but them days is long gone... (Sall is a lucky guy without a doubt)...Sure... I have feelings for Tegan but only as my oldest and most trusted friend... I would NEVER try anything...the thought has never even crossed my mind.
So with Tegan backing me up Sall's getting a bit calmer but he's still not sure he believes what I'm saying, and eventually wanders off...followed shortly by the rest. Leaving me not sure whether I been, clubbed, stabbed snake-bit or burned...so I just sat down on the bench....for a few hours.
Tegan eventually wandered by again and tried to fill in the blanks a bit...It helped but I still wonder if I need to keep an eye out for Sall...I think he still wants to tear off a few pieces...
What repercussions this incident will have I can only guess.....
So I left for the Crafting Hall to take in my pants a bit...getting skinny now days! While I was there I bumped into Lance and Ell...and Dragon Isles came up so we eventually left for them....
Well after earlier, things have to get better...no, not really.
We head to the pier to catch a ship to Vehl. With all these things going around in my head I got a little snippy with the Captain...words were exchanged, his crew appeared topside and I was escorted off the ship...Lance tried to smooth things over but failed...I will admit I was a bit terse with the skipper calling his ship a 'rat barge' and maligning his crew as unable "to find the end of the world if they sailed off it." I can see where he would be a bit reluctant to grant me passage and I'm damned lucky not to have ended up in the harbor...Usually I would not have acted this way but I was still a bit...what...preoccupied....hell I don't know. But my mouth ran without the brain and I was off the ship and headed for the bank to get some True's to sweeten my 'apology'...
I returned and asked to see the Cap'n, who I apologized to for my words and made the offer of some gold to supplement the crews Grog ration at the Scamps Mug. He accepted both the coin and the words and I was allowed aboard... the trip was very short and we returned to Vehl within hours.
Lance is deeply troubled by his 'relationship', lack there of or his feelings for Ell... I'm still a bit confused on exactly what the issue is but we talk about it for hours and I am getting closer to the root of the problem, I hope to soon be able to help him remove that weed from his garden... (Sorry Sall for the garden reference)...
As I laid down to rest I wondered about tomorrow....and just how them stars are gonna be lined up...
-
Twenty years...my god.
I can hardly believe I have been so long from the life I once lived; I scarcely remember who I was then. A broken boy at the edge of manhood who stepped from one world...to another. Running away from demons he would never escape, that damaged boy with the dead eye and a scared soul...
How can you banish demons that make you what you are... who you are? You cannot run from yourself no matter how far you go...wherever you go, there you are.
Perhaps there is no solution and you just settle in to an uneasy truce...a mutually beneficial 'cease fire' no ground gained nor any lost.
In twenty years I would have thought I would find answers...perhaps there are none and in time we find only something that works for each of us......
Recently I find myself to be a much more social creature and I have begun to ask myself one thing...have I squandered my time...
For nearly twenty years I held myself from others, led a solitary life of roaming and gathering and spent little time making friends. Have these decisions been a mistake made over and over again...we all have that one thing we do wrong consistently, is this mine?
I have seen and done much, some of it more than most would call rational, just what consequences do my actions have... I have collected so much, yet I have collected so little as well...what would 200 boxes of corn fetch if I traded it in for time? Perhaps had I been...say... in Hemp... I might have met that nice girl and had a conversation with her, traveled with her and possibly grown to lover her. Have I traded a family for commodities and just how much would a family be worth at the Market? That one moment in time I missed and lost forever...What would that moment be worth, twenty, one hundred or perhaps ten-thousand boxes....I might have traveled with a surly Dwarf to places unknown and seen the greatest sight in my life...how many boxes of aloe did that cost?
My customers paid in coin, what have I paid in...
What is the measure of a man; do you weight him against how much gold he possesses, how many call him a friend, by his deeds and actions, how many mourn his death or that one person who loved him a lifetime? When it is all said and done what gets put on the other side?
What counter weight will be placed on the scales for me...I have but a handful I can call friends and less to call anymore than that. Is the measure of my life the combined weight of my collections or the events that passed while I wandered alone...?
Twenty years since I walked out that gate, a boy with a dead eye and a broken soul...have I changed so much since then, have I changed any? Or am I merely now a man with a dead eye and broken soul...
They say "home is where the heart is" but they also say "You can never go home again"
How true...
-
I was up by Leringard and decided to have a wash up as it was getting close enough to the 14 day mark. I know this little spring-fed pool. Cool, clear and just outta the way enough not to be used too often... So I take a look around just to make sure it's clear and I'm not gonna get bushwhacked by nobody while I'm getting cleaned up. So I take off my pack and set it down, take out my Half-plate as it could use a bit of a cleaning as well. I get outta my clothes and lay em out nearby so I can give em a bit of the ol' scrub-a-dub as well. So I stick my toe in and it's quite a bit cooler than I recall it being and it takes a while to ease in...
Well after a while it gets pretty comfortable and I get on with washing up...things is going just dandy... (I should 'a know at that point)
I start to hear this sort 'a huffing noise...I look around...don't see nothing...but I can hear this noise...Huff....Huff...KERsnort...still I don't see anything.
So I lean back against the edge of the pool and I just happen to look up....
Not twenty feet above me in a crotch of two branches is the biggest black bear I ever did see...and he's looking right back at me like I'm the only neked person HE's ever seen...
So here we are just looking at each other...but each one of us is working this problem in his head...now I just know if I make a move to get outta that pool he's commin' outta that tree like a lightning struck Ogre. And he's prolly thinking the same thing 'If I start down there he's gonna get that pack and I'm in trouble...'
We continued to sit there just looking at the other, each afraid to move and stir the other in to action. Now at this point I have been in that water for quite sometime and I'm starting to get kind of cold and mighty wrinkly...
About then he decides he's done waiting around and he starts coming down that tree...well he didn't more that a few feet when that branch gave way...that bear dropped into that pool so hard he about slopped all the water outta it!
I was up and outta the pool sooo fast I dunno if the water from his plash had even landed... (I sure as hell was not gonna look back to find out)...I grabbed my things on the run and kept going till I hit the gates...and that's when I realized I was still naked standing at the gates to Leringard, huffing and puffing wearing nothing more than a smile...
-
Interesting things continue to happen...
I have lately taken up gem mining just to pass the time, I have so much now that I have ceased to gathering for profit. Fire Agates and greenstone have been my primary effort, as the more precious stones I can not mine on my own nor have much success at working them. Hopefully in time I will get better and stop succeeding so magnificently in my failures, If only I was so successful in everything else!
So my newest endeavor has led me to the deserts of Mistone and I have been exploring this area that I have as of yet to wander with any truly critical eye. It truly is a place of great beauty, the sheer magnitude of is emptiness and the starkness of the landscape makes me feel so small...
There is distinct lack of civilization; with the exception of some ruins of what I can only guess was some sort of settlement but how long ago I can only surmise. In such an 'empty' place I was surprised to come across a fellow whom seemed to know me but offered no name in return... (I was a bit cautious about this fact)... as we talked he kept calling me 'Traveler', not so mush in the way you might greet a person on the road but what seemed more like a title. I was very confused by the interaction but he really seemed to know me, he talked of my nomadic lifestyle, the miles I have put behind me and even made references to the ' migration of animals to the best foraging grounds' which I believe was about my collecting patterns, or habits perhaps. We talked for a very long time but I was unable to get much out of him...he just kept talking about me...and calling me Traveler. After much one-sided conversation he made to depart and gave me some parting words..." May the road fly beneath your feet, may the wind always be at your back and may you find what you have lost Traveler...but do not seek" and he was off into the night. I slept well but a bit troubled by his words....lost but do not seek? How did he know so much about me...and why Traveler?
-
I was contacted by bird about an expedition to mine some Fire Opals and figured 'hey why not' so I replied that I would meet them at Corax lake. I've continued to wage the war on the Giants as I feel I "owe" them for stepping on my face so many times...
This particular individual I have had the pleasure of working with but a few times and they have been great fun each time so I was not hesitant to accept the offer and saw little danger in the plan. He is rather good at spell slinging and I receive much help from his abilities as well. The Forest Giants are not usually too hard to dispatch or frighten off leaving the path to the opals open for our little jaunt...
I should have known the way things have gone lately that it was not such a good idea.
Everything was fine until we assaulted the second camp of Giants and things went from bad to worse very quickly. First off many of the Giants resisted the magic thrown at them, not a problem as I was backing up the caster and any that resisted or came at him I would take care of; Simple, easy... not quite.
One Giant was completely unfazed by anything sent his way and closed on us rapidly. I stepped up to knock him on his arse and finish him off, that was the plan anyhow. I was able to knock him down...once....while he was down he was set ablaze by some magic and burned quite nicely...until he stood back up. All my subsequent attempts to knock him back down failed and I was only effective in making him angrier. Still burning like a torch he continued his assault on me with vicious blows, the likes of which I have never felt before. More magic was hurled at him but he seemed to shrug off all attempts and continued with much vigor the pursuit of his goal to make me a small wet patch on the forest floor...
Any 'normal' Giant would have fallen long before now and I was starting to have SERIOUS doubts as to the successful outcome of our original plan. Between the hammering blows to my shield, the heat from flames that raged along its body and trying to get a few blows in myself, I was fading fast...very fast, and I knew I was looking at my death. How could I miss it...it was the size of an Inn, blazing brightly and beating the snot out of me...quite literally.
When the killing blow came I am not sure...may have been two of three for all I know. I do recall the axe coming down and I thought I had gotten my shield up in time but I must be wrong about that... (I'll add it to the list)...because the next thing I was aware of was standing in Hemp, not looking forward to the long slow trudge back to my grave...where that Giant was still standing around, probably still ablaze and looking for more.
(I bet he even urinated on my grave...)
*NOTE*
No more travels with HIM...
-
An outing to the Misted Village can be quite the experience...
Not so much the village it's self but the folks you meet along the way. Many years ago I was contacted by a one Mr. Bumblebee for an article in the 'Whisper', this was the first and last time I set my eye on him...until a few days past.
Sil had gathered a group to make a foray into the village and Bumblebee arrived as well. I had forgotten we had met until he brought up the story...getting old it seems.
Our 'mission' what ever it was successful and everyone survived the outing to return to the crossroads and get some rest and refit.
After the spoils were divided many set off on their own and I remained to rest for a bit more beside the fire. As I dozed Sil and Abi had struck up a conversation with a lass named Emie... (Spelling?)... The conversation got quite heated as Emie seemed a bit insulting to Sil's father with her man hating rhetoric and Sil took enough offence to strike her. I was a bit surprised that it went no further and just settled in to Emie hating men and Sil saying they are not all the same...I dozed along happily, catching only snippets form there on out. I did have odd dreams about a confusing series of events... animals...pies...empty forests; all manner of strange things invaded my sleep.
I have no idea how long I slept but I was awakened by a burning sensation...not to mention the smoke. They had set my clothes on fire as I slept! I stepped right in to a blueberry pie Emie had set there for me as I jumped up, confused and ON FIRE! The flames were extinguished quickly...the poor pie was not so lucky...such a tragic end to such a young pie, breaks my heart to see it go in such a way...I tried to salvage as much of it as I could but it was nearly a total loss...and I went into mourning its demise as everyone left.
I buried the remains in a quiet section of the wood and left a small marker to honor the valiant pastry I had so sadly dispatched in my confusion...
-
Since my episode with the bear I have been very mindful of my surroundings but it seems to help little...
I was hunting a few deer to restock my food supply, I snuck up as best I could and was well within bow range. To increase the chance of closing on the skittish creatures I removed my armor and helmet. Clothed only in my cloak and skivvies I made a surprisingly stealthy approach. I used a large thicket to shield me from view as I approached; having quietly made my way in the shrubs I was ready to take my shot. With arrow notched I drew and aimed. Everything was looking good and that should have been warning enough....
Before I could let fly the arrow I was staggered by an excruciating impact to my left buttock. The shock and pain were so great I let out a blood curdling yell and wildly let fly with the arrow, which soared off to Gods know where.
As I wrenched my head around to see what I was struck by, I could see the very end and the fletching of an arrow...The pain was unbelievable and every time I moved I would bump or brush the arrow against something sending white hot pain through my bottom.
Unable to turn around without causing my self blinding pain I made my way gingerly out of the thicket. It took a long time to extricate myself from the thicket backwards while minding not to jostle the projectile protruding from my rear. Once clear of the brush I was faced with another problem, just how was I going to remove the offending, not to mention insanely painful addition to my posterior? No matter how I tried I could not reach it to pull it straight-out, it was always being pulled to one side or the other depending on what hand I was gripping it with... (once again I find my lack of companions has bitten me in the arse)... with no hope of removing it myself and unable to see another way to rid myself of the arrow I was resigned to make for town. Here again I was presented with a problem, how to put on some pants...? At the time of impact I was wearing only my cloak and skivvies, the former now stapled to me and the later soaking up blood at an impressive rate. I know it sounds like a simple action but at the time trying to get my pants back on was anything but... (no pun intended)... I might as well have been trying to kill a Giant with a dead salmon...
Even the little motion created by simply walking was nearly unbearable, with every step the cloak moved just enough to send pain shooting through me and I was forced to simply drag my leg behind me to limit the motion and subsequent pain.
Eventually I found myself at the gates of Hlint, another town I have arrived at without any pants...must be some kind of record... I drew quite a few looks from those on the street, luckily it was late and there were thankfully few to see my entrance and embarrassingly slow progress towards the healers for any help they could give me. Arriving at the ladies was a bit uncomfortable...for them, I am getting used to this sort of thing.
It was not long or hard to remove my antagonist with help...all I had to do was grit my teeth for a bit as they carefully worked it out of my favorite seat. A few words, a quick casting and boom my bottom was projectile free!
I am holding on to this arrow...
I WILL find the archer and when I do, they will have to look DEEP to get it back......
-
The stars must have returned to their normal alignment, as things seem to be going better. The randomly odd occurrences and minor disasters that seem to have befallen me of late appear to have moved on to someone else... (Thank the Gods). I do feel pity for that poor sole whoever it may be as I know well what lays in store for them as they become the plaything of some restless and bored God.
My backside has healed nicely but I do have a scar to add to my collection...
I continue to work with semi-precious stones, mostly Green Stones and Fire Agate which I then grind into powder. More practice and to relieve boredom than any higher aspirations of becoming a true gem-smith. I have little desire to become one of the many (too many?) craftsmen who post notices of work and get few responses or customers. I spent twenty years having customers and but for the dusts I currently carry I have little want of any.
Scarce have become my companions of earlier adventures; Muhk, Rerok and Grim have been who knows where for the last few months. I have not seen or heard from any of them, while I do not fear for their safety I do miss their company while adventuring...
Made a foray into the Giant caves for some Fire Opals not too long ago, things went well for a while but eventually feathers got ruffled and the party dissolved. I did manage to get a few stones from the trip...always looking on the Brightside!
Speaking of the Brightside, my bank vault no longer echo's so badly. I have begun to refill my depleted funds at a fairly rapid pace despite having sold none of the things I seek to unload...
-
Bored....so bored. Since retiring from gathering I have had trouble filling the hours. Boredom it would seem is a rather dangerous thing; it leads to stupid ideas and poor execution of said stupid ideas.
I must find something useful to do...
-
Again I find myself stepping off a ship in the wrong place; I really need to pay closer attention to the destinations...
This time I found myself in a depressing little burg called North Point, the weather was atrocious, the locals not so helpful and the town its self little more that a collection of buildings. As usual there was no way to travel back to my original destination by boat so I was going to have to hoof it overland, again as usual. Having never been this far North I tried to inquire about flora and fauna of the area from some of the locals but I received little helpful information. I did however receive a request for help to dispatch a troublesome group of Minotaur's form their current location. Having faced Minotaur's before on the Dragon Isles I was confident in my abilities to handle this task with minimum risk to myself.
I'm not saying that I was over confident, or that I even underestimated my adversary only that I was denied crucial mission information as to the power of my intended targets.
Once I found their lair I cautiously made my way down just to do a bit of pre-assault snooping to get the layout and possible choke points I could us to my advantage. Things unraveled fairly quickly at that point. Instead of just snooping around I was immediately engaged by two very aggressive (not to mention considerably more powerful than I had been expecting) individuals. I was able with great difficulty, more than a few potions and countless knockdown attempts to defeat both of them but I was now rethinking my decision to make a run at this.
My chances of success let alone survival were dwindling by the step and I had not even turned the first corner nor seen the first room. If the two I had been fighting were underlings I shuddered to think what I might find in charge down here.
I progressed slowly...very slowly, trying to listen to what might be ahead or pick up any warnings of ambush. I have been in tough situations before; more times than I care to count but this time I can say I was very uncomfortable with my current predicament. I could have simply just walked back out as the way was still clear and I could see the entrance I had entered through but I was here, curiosity was getting the better of me and I like to explore new places so I pushed on ...for a bit...
My concern for what I might find lurking further along was in hindsight well justified. As I crept along I came to a bend in the passage from which I could hear quite a bit of commotion going further along or in a room I could not yet see. From the sounds alone I would have guessed at perhaps half a dozen or so Minotaur's were not far ahead. I slunk up to that corner sweating and moving like I had a bag full of leaky firebombs around my neck. I ate a fist sized lump of rancid Troll fat on a bet once but that had nothing on how my stomach felt when I peeked around that corner. I was close with my initial estimate of 'half a dozen'...fairly close... I stopped counting at nine; it was not helping me feel any better...
Well here was a real dilemma, this was one of those times my father would have said " Pee or get off the pot." go or no go, that was the question. The earlier two had really taxed my abilities and if I got more than two on me at once I would be in dire trouble, one possibly two I could take but more than that and I was done for. Until now I had not even thought of Mages or Shamans, I had encountered the brawn of this group not the brains but now as I was looking around this corner I could see that I had been lacking in my thought process...severely lacking... I could make out at least two who seemed to be 'the magical sort' and as with any other fight you always hit the mage first so how was I going to split this group up and not draw all of them at once?
Some questions have no easy answers and this sure as hell was on of them questions. While I pondered my next move I was sure to keep checking my back as I needed to keep my escape route clear..."Always be able to get outta trouble, faster than you got into it" words to live by...
So I had some choices; I could try to lure one at a time and whittle down the numbers of fighters first, I could just take what ever comes around the corner first be it Fighter or Mage, I could try to single out the Mages from the herd or I could just buff as best I could, give 'em hell and hope for the best albeit not too likely to end well on my part. Just what was the best way to split this herd was really troubling me; let one of them spot me and then dispatch them as quickly possible works well normally but this was anything but normal and what kind of onslaught was I going to take from the Mages? Cold, fire, Death Magic like those damned Bodaks or something I've not yet encountered and that was what had me more than a bit concerned. Fear of the unknown is not fear of the unknown; it is the fear of finding out. Deciding this was NOT the place to try new tactics I went with the combat tested and veteran approved, single lead and dispatch. Granted this simple tactic has worked for me hundreds if not thousands of times in the past and is the first in anyone's book of tricks I had serious doubts about the outcome. The corner did provide a bit of cover and created somewhat of a choke point so I thought it might be a defendable enough position. The plan was laid, the tactics sound, time had come to throw the dice and see what came up. I inched around the corner quiet as a fart in a hurricane until I could see the room fully, buffed up with my meager options and proceeded to get the attention of the closest available target. After making a few choice gestures in its direction I was able to anger it into action and it lumbered towards me. While watching the half ton of ax wielding meat head my way I began to rethink my position on things a bit and as it closed the distance much faster than I had expected I was again plagued by the nagging doubts of a pleasant ending. I spread my feet a bit, set my shield bottom on the stone floor and braced for impact...
The impact was tremendous and I nearly staggered as it hit my shield at a full run. I was being pushed backwards, my feet sliding along the stones even as I threw my full weight back against the shield. I was unable to even attempt a sword strike form this position and staying on my feet was the only way I was going to make it. Luckily the Minotaur was in no position to strike at me as well and thankfully his ax was not employed to remove my head at this time. I was running out of options not to mention room, if it pinned me to the wall I was finished. Pinned to the wall it could simply crush me to death or bring the ax in to play and I would not be able to counter the blow. To die at the hands of this beast without even a single sword strike on my part was not only looking possible but probable, I had to come up with something and fast too.
Then it hit me! I was being pushed backwards and my sword was useless for any strikes, but it could be used as a fulcrum to spin my shield to the side and dislodge the offending beast long enough for me to get my footing and be in position to strike a few blows as it passes. I jammed my blade into the crease of one of the floor stones, braced the pommel against the inside of my shield just outside of the arm hold to spin the shield to my right and force the Minotaur to slide past with it momentum, freeing me from the threat of being crushed to death between the wall and my shield. Once the pommel and blade caught fast the forcing the shield to swivel and the Minotaur to slide past and into the wall. In the time it took for it to pass me I was firm-footed and ready to land a few blows of my own as it crashed head first into the wall. Now that I was able to respond and not just along for the ride I was feeling a bit better, funny how taking the offensive can do that. I was able to land three quick blows before it regained it footing and towered over me grinning savagely as it brought the ax around to strike back. I was able to deflect most of his attacks but I was tiring rapidly under its blows and that shield was getting heavier and heavier by the minute. The two from earlier had nothing on this one and I was thanking any Gods that might be listening that I had only one to contend with and not two. Exhausted and bloody the two of us continued to rage at each other with, blows, blocks, knock down attempts and counterblows for what seemed like hours. Beyond exhausted I was giving a lucky break, as it took a huge overhead swing I was able to lunge in with the strength I had left and drive my blade deep into its exposed neck, finally felling the thing...
I checked the corpse for any valuables, tended my wounds and moved to the entrance to rest up. When out of nowhere I was hit by some sort of spell I have not been the recipient of before. All at once I felt like I was being compressed into my stomach, crumpled up on myself like you would crumple a piece of parchment. The pain was fantastic and in the terrible state I was already I just wanted to die and be done with it. Just as fast it was gone...and so was I... I'm not going back in there without a lot of help!
I rested for a while outside in the woods and when I felt well enough to travel I headed south to make for Hurm as it was I thought the closest port I could catch a ship back to Hemp. It took a while to get to Hurm but I did make it without any further difficulty and I was soon on my way back to Hemp by ship...I do hate sea travel. Up and down, up and down, up and down and sometimes side to side...
I did make a few inquires as to the nature of the spell I was exposed to and after several different attempts I did discover what it was, Implosion...How I survived that attack I have no idea, Implosion it seems is particularly nasty and there is little to counter it.
Just lucky I guess?
-
Again I find myself woefully behind in keeping this book up to date....
Giants, Giants and more Giants; It would seem from my calculations (limited as they are) that the Giants seem to be reproducing at a startling, if not alarming rate. How they manage to do this in the face of the massive and constant predation by adventurers whether solo or in groups is simply amazing. I'm no expert (And have NO desire to become one!) in the mating rituals (if any) of the Giant or in the actual act...Gods could you imagine stumbling across THAT on a dark night, I think I'd put out my other eye! There are just some things you can't un-see...
...Anyhow....
I know I cannot be the only one to notice that it seems there are Giants in fairly large numbers almost everywhere you turn. Forests, deserts, mountains and caves all seem to be over run with the hulking brutes just waiting to flatten any who wander within reach. Perhaps I have just been visiting these sites more than usual to obtain the raw stones I require in ever-increasing quantities. As I try and I stress TRY to work raw minerals into quality stones while keeping my thumbs attached and the swelling to a minimum. (Ever tried to do delicate work with fingers the size of sausages...don't bother.) I'm not looking to become a world class Gem-smith or any lofty ambitions like that; I just want to be able cut the stones I find myself. There are plenty of quality smiths of all kinds already and why one would want to enter an already saturated market is beyond me. Getting anything sold is considerably harder than it was, the Trade Hall is full of notices and few seem to move much merchandise regularly. There is a flourishing underground market however...
-
I have been thinking lately (I know it's a bad idea already) about taking up baking....
* In a slightly different handwriting*
I could make PIES glorious pies! All the flavors you could imagine and some you can't, sweet pies, savory pies, fruit pies... Covered in flour all outta breath and trembling with anticipation for the curst to brown then the long agonizing wait for it to cool...the blinding pain of molten filling when you can't hold on any longer. Oh the horror! They call to me in my sleep, invade my dreams and poison my thoughts with their fruity goodness. I can hear them moving about at night and smell them on my clothing in the light, I know they plot...what they plot remains a mystery. If I could bake them myself I could make my favorite...would rhubarb smell raspberry on my breath, or apple accuse me of cheating with blueberry...Gods forbid Troll get upset with fish and set about wrecking the kitchen in retaliation. I could become a master baker and bake one pie to rule them all!
* The writing returns to the original line*
Oh Gods not AGAIN.....
-
I was just minding my own business...honest I was!
Why is it the mundane things that get me into trouble? When I go rushing in to a fight and expect to end up dead, which is the time for the obvious to happen. Why do the simplest things go so horribly wrong and produce the oddest outcomes that leave me wondering 'What the Hells?'
I was fishing in the lake of Glass (nothing odd there done it a thousand times) on a particularly nice afternoon. Nice wind, good sunshine and the fishing was amazing I had quite a haul when things got funny... (Not so much funny... Ha, ha...but funny weird) First the white stag that frequents that area (and which I could clearly see across the lake) Got all crazy and ran ALL the way around the lake to charge at me! Not looking to fight I jumped in the water and waded a ways out to get clear and give it time to cool off, thinking it would just wander off...Yeah..no. Instead it viciously assaulted my poor helpless pack, spreading all my stuff in a large area and then to add insult to injury it peed on my stuff! Apparently satisfied with itself and my humiliation it wandered back to the other side leaving me a bit befuddled and more than a bit angry...I don't think it was mating season...but I'm no Druid or Ranger. I waded back to shore and gathered up all my stuff, soaking in the lake what HE soaked first...
I went back to fishing, oh well no harm on foul. I'd plugged two, maybe three good size fish already. Lining up for the next shot I let fly and I'll be damned if that arrow didn't skip off the water and plug that stag...clean across the lake. That sucker keeled over deader than dead right on the spot, not as much as a peep. So I had venison for lunch...odd but not world altering.
After lunch I went back to fishing, I needed to smoke a lot of fish to replenish my traveling provisions and the venison just does not smoke as well, at least I think so. Like I said the fishing was amazing, just hauling in monster Gar and Catfish. I was smoking fish by the ton, when I heard the ruckus...
Coming out of the trees was a small band; an Elf, two Dwarves and what I can only guess to be a Half Giant judging by its size, too big for a Half Orc. They were really moving and making a ton of noise as they passed me in the shallows to my knees. Not so much as a word of warning...Because the next thing that blundered out of the trees was no less than four FULL SIZED GIANTS. Ya ever have that sinking feeling? Kind like you say to yourself..."Well this is it, been swell knowing you...see you on the other side" Yup this was one of them times, if not THE time. I thought I was in trouble with the Bear, or having problems with that arrow in my butt. Ahhh nope... The Minotaur's were a pretty hairy deal. Yeah?..no. This was indeed going to end badly on my part.
I was totally screwed, no...make that royally screwed. Standing knee deep in the lake with my pants rolled up and barely a shirt on, the only weapon handy is my bow (which I'm not the best with anyhow) and only three dozen fishing arrows in the quiver...what to do?
'Run you idiot' was my first thought...I might even have said it out loud, Hell I don't know. I was not that far from shore but them Giants was really irritated and covering a lot of ground and I was pretty sure we would all meet at my gear about the same time. Not such a good plan...I could swim further out but I'm not much of a swimmer and I figured my flailing and splashing would not only attract the attentions of the Giants, but with my luck awaken some long sleeping and terribly horrible monster from the depths of the lake. Four enraged Giants might not be enough...lets throw in a lake monster, just for laughs...
Ideas come at the strangest times...Time itself is kind of odd, put your hand on a hot stove for a second and it feels like its there for hours. Talk with a pretty girl for hours and it fells like a second...I had this flash of being on the Dragon Isles....Gorgons...
While fighting Gorgons Muhk was petrified and I ran right past him thinking he was a rock. If it fooled me it might work here too. Seeing as I had no way to petrify myself I had to think quickly. I dropped my bow and grabbed handfuls of mud from the lake bottom and began to smear it on my face and upper body. Anything that would stick above the surface when I sat down I covered in mud and some water plants I pulled up with it. Praying to any Gods who would listen and were NOT involved with my current predicament that I was well enough concealed, I sat down to wait...
Even as riled up as those giants were I guess the big smoky fire and three dozen fish were more than they could pass up. That mob skidded to a halt smack-dab in the middle of my camp and a riot just about erupted over the fish that were smoking. The chase was forgotten as soon as they spied my fish all lined up neat as you please over that low smoky fire. It didn't take long for the fish to disappear and even the pile of fish guts and remains got squabbled over. Once the food was gone there was nothing left to do except destroy the camp and scatter all my stuff to the hells and back... My pack for the second time that day was brutally assaulted and left for dead...Unlike the Stag the Giants not only scattered it but threw a lot of it in the lake. My armor and shield went into the drink. Helmet went one-way and my sword the other. The box of apples I had stashed away was devoured, they even ate the box it was in...and they even spent sometime skipping the cut gems I had across the surface of the lake, who would have thought Giants liked that kind of stuff? I did recover a few...only because they hit me instead of skipping into the deep water. One of the big oafs even dazed two of his cohorts with my gnomish lens...before it too went in the lake.
The best part was when one of them actually ate the Adepts Stone I had. The blast rocked the camp and even blew some of the weeds from my disguise, I almost laughed...then the pieces started to rain down all around, big hunks of Giant. The head splashed down nearby and floated face up with a rather shocked look still on its face and I almost laughed again. The others recovered pretty fast for having one of their number unexpectedly detonate and leave quite a large mess behind. It was not long after the explosion they apparently became bored... (I mean really, how could you top THAT?)...and wandered back the way they came. I waited a few more minutes just to be sure, and when I was I washed off the muck and weeds.
I spent the next hour or so trying to collect my stuff and see what I could find in the water. I got all the big items...armor, shield... I was not so lucky with most of the gems I'd just cut they were gone into the depths of the lake, payment for the fish I'd taken but would never eat.
Surprisingly my pack had survived the second unprovoked attack of the day and with a little mending was good to go. I thought about trying to recoup my losses on the fish and do a bit more but I decided someone or something was telling me to 'move along, nothing to see here'...kind of reminds me of the time the healers removed that arrow and the watch was trying to get the onlookers to 'move along'.....
-
My thumbs are returning to their original size and the nails have begun to grow back... (It's about time) For a while there I thought I was going to have to chew the minerals free, as my swollen thumbs made working the chisel easier said than done. After collecting, grinding and cutting what seem like tons of lesser minerals I was able to (and quite surprisingly) cut the few Fire Opals I had on hand. I am chalking that up to luck and not any skill of my own...but why look gift horses in the mouth?
Cutting minerals free in the heat of the desert is not the greatest of pleasures, or to constantly look over ones shoulder for those pesky and surprisingly quite scorpions. The sand is another matter entirely. I feel as if I'm carting half the desert around with me. Every bend and fold hold sand, creases funnel sand from outside to inside and it tends to end up in rather irritating places...at times I feel as if I have sand paper underclothes. I have taken to bathing in the sea by Spellgard for relief from the murderous heat and the maddeningly relentless rubbing and chafing of the sand. The seawater is cool but quite painful at first contact with the spots rubbed raw by the sand. If a few minutes of gritted teeth are all the cost required to have a bear free dip then I can not complain...too much, besides it gives me a chance to collect a few pearls as well.
Even with all the work involved it gets rather boring collecting the stones for later cutting. There is little in the way of action in the area, I find myself going out of my way to look for a fight. The snakes and scorpions offer little challenge to the monotonous mining but Gnolls can be found not too far away. Not that they are more challenging but their numbers make it a more interesting fight...somewhat. Throw in a few Shamans and you have a bit of action to cut the boredom. Until I get better at cutting I guess I will have to just keep the Gnoll population in check.....Never thought I'd say I miss giants...
-
Full circle, I guess so....
Old ghost it seems don't just evaporate, they only seep deeper until the spring once again flows. It has been many years since I had these feelings, well before even my 'dealings' with Vymetal. Why have they come back...why now, and what do I do about them?
I wish I knew what it was that ended them...well...suppressed them last time. Was it my time away, the minimal contact I had or something else? What ever it was I need it soon...no, not soon....now.
I have been a useful member of society for many years now, if this continues unabated I fear then it will change everything I have worked so hard to accomplish. There is a well-hidden rumbling deep within and I know what it wants... Freedom...it wants to claw its way out, tired of the darkness it wants to be free. Free of any restraint, any form of humanity, to be only what it is...what it must be. Once again my 'Balthazar suit' is beginning to come apart at the seams and I have no thread to lash them back together. It will get out, it must this time...it has no choice.
I was lucky in the past, my luck it would seem...has run out....
-
Who would have thought just minding your own business would be so much damned trouble....
I took a break from gem collecting and headed to Hemp to lighten my load. My first stop was of course Lati; I wanted to sell off any junk she would take...and maybe get a bit of conversation. (she looks like she might be softening to my dinner proposal) She took nearly everything I had, that was very helpful to lighten my pack and she did not rake me over the coals on price as usual. She is a very shrewd business lady... (and kinda cute too). With less junk and more clink on me I bee lined for the bank to deposit my hard won Trues. After being in the desert for nearly three weeks most of my canteens had begun to leak or split, I guess it had to do with the heat and brutal sun. I guess they shrank when dry and swelled a bit when I could refill them, the constant in and out must have weakened them to eventual failure. All the old ones went in the trash and I bought eight new ones...how long these will last is anyone's guess, seems quality gear is important...except to hold ones water...(Perhaps Dragon scale and Yew canteens might have a market?) Further investigation might be prudent, who to talk to is the question...tailors or woodworkers? (the pursuit of quality products is never a waste of time).
I dumped out my new canteens; you never know just how long that water has been in there...I learned that lesson the hard way; I took a swig from a new canteen only to find that a skunk must have been bathing in the water before hand, it was truly awful stuff. Headed to the fountain for a refill I spied a few familiar faces loitering about, Ell, Fianon, Tim and Skully just to name a few. The last time I had seen Ell we had been discussing the complicated matter of flowers and the messages that they convey, be it intentionally or unintentionally. It seems she had really, really been thinking on what I had said and wanted more clarification on that particular subject. While doing my best the 'peanut gallery' opened up and soon the actual topic had been buried under tons of innuendo and good natured mockery... (all at my expense but I have plenty to spend!) At some point while this discussion was going on a powerful being arrived just out of my sight and apparently ignited some sort of conflict. Before I knew it everyone was running to the commotion... One was dead already, apparently cut down while trying to protect another from this 'woman' now standing before us. Skully, being Skully wanted to whoop her something fierce and once Skully gets going, good luck reigning him back in...
Things came apart pretty fast at that point. I'm not even sure what words (if any) were exchanged beforehand, Skully did get a few hits in...before it all fell apart. Some heavy-duty spells were cast and boom I was dead...along with everyone else, right smack-dab in the middle of Hemp...
There were many questions as to what had happened but my only was "Who the Hells was THAT!?"... I wanted to know so I could AVOID her in the future...
// I crashed badly and had to log back in several minutes later, so I missed almost all of the later stuff...except getting killed! //
The snippets of later conversation I could follow, (translated by Ell)....most of it was in the Elf language. It made me a bit angry that I could be killed for the 'cause' but not know what that 'cause' was... (I'll add it to the list of unknown 'causes' I've died for...) Feeling more like an outsider than anything else I soon departed, leaving them to talk and discuss whatever it was they felt need to be said...
// I had crashed again...and decided to call it a night. //
-
* In hurried, almost scribbled writing*
I woke this morning with Blueberry on my breath....I found dribs of what seem to be pie filling on my shirt....Apple Pie filling at that....What did I do last night? I have no recollection of anything to do with pies...where did the Blueberry breath come from....and what about the stains on my shirt... and now I find my skinning knife seems to have what looks suspiciously like raspberry filling on the blade....more evidence! I should get rid of the knife...but where?...how many did I ravage in the night? How many households will rise with the day to find they have lost a loved one...taken in the night by nothing more than a flitting shadow...stinking of Blueberries? Was I seen....will the guards arrive at my door any minute to haul me away in chains....
They deserve it! Every single one...got what was coming to them...how long did they think I would remain unaware of their plans...their scheming...their treachery? Did they expect me to remain inactive while they progressed their plans further? NO! I say...I will fight them at every turn...every step along this path they have chosen will be littered with their remains...dripping and sticky with their fillings I will rage on...rage against them at every opportunity till none are left to carry on... They move through the shadows, I hear them scraping their pans along the stone...In the dark they watch, they plot....they gather.
I WILL win...I MUST win...they cannot prevail....they must not be allowed to succeed....................
-
"Diamonds" he says. I figure sure, why not...
Let me tell you why not; Unlike Fire Opals, the giants who reside within the cave where diamonds are found, are NOT, I repeat NOT to be trifled with.
My gem working has improved greatly and I can now cut and polish Fire Opals with regularity. Every lesser stone I am able to cut and polish without failure, this has caused a bit of...slowing shall we say. Fire Opals are not terribly hard to get, with some help. Muhk and I often make incursions to the giant cave near Corax Lake to collect opals. With proper planning and the understanding that comes from so many travels together we can battle our way down with little trouble. (There are of course those freak moments when it all goes bad but thankfully these are few) I can still learn a thing or two about cutting opals but I do not think that will continue for long and soon I will be able to cut opals in my sleep. I will then have to work diamonds or more precious stones to continue improving my gem working skills. I look forward to increasing my knowledge and skill but I have concerns about actually getting hold of the stones to work with...
Muhk and I have been on many, many adventures together and at times we hardly speak, things just sort of fall into place when we travel. We know how each other work best and it is seldom we have to work out a plan of action before hand. With so much traveling time together we just know what to do and when to do it. (at times this has gotten me into trouble with others as I THINK I know what they are going to do...and usually end up all by myself... it is just habit for me and Muhk to do it a certain way.) So when he said diamonds, I was game.
My first indication that this might not go so well was when he told me to get more bandages... That should have raised a flag, but no.
Oh, and I forgot the spiders...I hate spiders...I mean really, really hate them...despise them actually...not sure hate is a strong enough word. So I stopped to pick up my cloak to help with poison (that was a waste of time) and about a hundred bandages...When Muhk say buy bandages...you buy bandages.
I've never mined or so much as smashed a diamond before and I was woefully unprepared for the attempt. First off the cave system is located in the Rift...Bad enough...add to that the spiders...getting worse...and then top it off with some extremely irritated giants and you have a tale worthy of "This one time..." status.
I will admit I was very concerned about the spiders, I was expecting something in the way of the Sinister Forest caliber. The truth was they were little more than Dire Spiders and one or two that were a bit bigger. These were NOT what I had been expecting at all. Maybe the giants had been blow out of proportion as well? (wishful thinking)
The giants on the other hand were not falsely exaggerated, not one bit...
With the spiders behind us I was feeling a bit better about making it back from this trip with some diamonds to work on, not to mention alive. The giants pretty well dispelled that 'warm fuzzy' almost immediately. The first two were making a racket from around the corner up ahead, no sneaking required here. With a quick look around the corner that cold lump returned to the pit of my stomach like an anvil. Here were two of the biggest giants I had EVER seen. (there was this one.. bigger giant, but I try not to think about HIM...)
Muhk and I have a lot of giant felling behind us and our standard plan is simple; we both try to knock him down at the same time as soon as he is on us. Figuring he may dodge one attempt but while busy with one the other may get him, and it works very well...or it used to. So sticking with a proven tactic (why reinvent the wheel?) we readied for the upcoming clash of meat and metal. (I made sure my helmet strap was fastened tight!)
Getting the giants one at a time was paramount to success, I was doubtful we could fell both simultaneously without suffering severe injury or even death. Muhks' ability to draw in giants is without question the most effective I have ever seen. I don't understand why he excels in this capacity but it is most remarkable. (maybe it's the way he smells? May have to do a bit of field testing...might just find a marketable giant repellent.) He was able to 'encourage' one to follow him back to where I lay in ambush, as soon as it crossed my line of sight I immediately attempted to knock it down. Muhk reversed direction and made a similar attempt nearly at the same time. (as big and bumbling as he looks, Muhk can move pretty quick on his feet.) I'm not sure who succeeded, perhaps it was both of us but that giant went down hard...I was just glad it didn't land on top of me. While it struggled to its feet we landed blow after blow on the thing. It shook off an awful lot of punishment, we even had to knock it down a second and third time before Muhk landed a massive blow to its head and it finally keeled over dead. One down, gods know how many more to go. While it was not a terribly difficult fight, that giant did take considerably more of a beating than the normal run of the mill Forest Giant or Desert Giant do before they give up the ghost. If this was the new standard of giant felling than we may be in for a very rough ride and perhaps a long walk back to a grave....or two.
The other giant was dispatched in the same manner and with just as much fight in him as the last he too finally collapsed dead at our feet. I had taken a few good hits and needed to tend a few deep gashes and maybe even a broken finger, luckily not on my sword hand.
As we moved deeper into the cave I keep my eye peeled for any veins but I had not spotted one yet. We just kept going down, down, down, just how far could this cave system go?
Spiders were again encountered and dispatched with little effort as we pushed even deeper. The sounds of larger movement could be heard ahead and we moved cautiously up to get a look...
From below us, we had expected to see them ahead of us, came three...yes three, very irritated giants. They were on us so fast I had barely enough time to register movement before I was hit so hard that I saw stars...even this far underground. I wish I could tell you Muhks account of the fight but I was to busy to even think of anything else except dodge and swing, dodge and swing. I was taking a pounding, I felt like it was raining anvils and I had neglected to bring my parasol of anvil repelling. Somewhere in the fight I was hit with a spell or some sort of magic that sapped my strength so badly I was doing everything I could just to remain standing. Oh, and I was still be whacked like a house rat the entire time. It was time to make a strategic withdrawal, an advance in a different direction if you will. This was harder to achieve than to dream up, with my strength gone and still taking the brunt of the assault I collapsed...
I am unclear if Muhk had already fallen or if we fell at the same time, but we did meet in the void...
Dead, discouraged, disheartened, depressed and deprived of any gems I went fishing.....
-
I have not seen Muhk since our disastrous attempt to secure some diamonds; I do know he has been around as the house was rearranged. Sein moved his things out, Muhk can be a bit tough to live with at times, or lack of them...namely bath time, on the brightside he is house broken.
Fishing has taken up the past week or so, I had forgotten how nice it was to be alone. No cares, no adventures, no rush, nothing but quiet forest and the simple joy of fishing. What could be more relaxing than plinking fish with your bow? No falling bears to disturb a leisurely bath, no giants to storm out of the woods and destroy your camp, (it was almost worth it just to see the detonation) no wayward arrows to thump into your poor buttocks, no distractions or disasters. Catfish and Gar my only company and some of the best company I've had. No bickering, no rushing ahead, no squabbling over loot...just... nothing at all.
While I surrounded by nothing my mind did a bit of wandering; I have seen many lakes, streams and small ponds that do not have fish in them. I was thinking of how to get fish from one place to another so they could start a breeding population in places devoid of fish. What would be better than 'a fish in every pot'? No one would be hungry again, how hard is fishing...
This idea raised some questions; how do fish reproduce, which species would do best where and how to get them to the destination alive....All of these would require some experiments and a lot of investigation to answer. If I make inquiries to some Rangers or possibly Druids I may find they already have these answers and I could skip the investigations and go directly to the experimental portion. Funny what you think up when you can just let your mind wander...
-
After finishing my fishing trip I did decide to look into the possibility of moving fish from one location to another, I have not met with success up to this point. Not that it seems impractical just that an unfortunate series of events seem to be plaguing my attempts...
After many lengthy conversations with both Druids and Rangers it is the consensus that fish spawn from eggs. The thought of once again collecting eggs makes me breakout in hives... I was informed with much laughter that the eggs would be considerably smaller and not require feeding to obtain, things are looking better. Armed with this knowledge I made a valiant attempt to locate some fish eggs that I could transplant in an empty pond. I did locate some eggs I took for fish but alas I was once again forced to add a line in my 'you're wrong book' as they turned out to be frogs...
The next attempt was even less desirable, this time they turned out to be snake eggs and I had to stomp the very fierce and slightly venomous hatchlings before they escaped and wreaked havoc in their new location. Two attempts two failures, I may need to have a Ranger on hand to help me identify the fish eggs from non-fish eggs, least I inadvertently move a dangerous or invasive species to a new region. (just what I need to do is upset the 'balance') So for now I have suspended my egg efforts and will focus on moving live fish instead... Sounds simple enough.
I should know by now that the words simple or easy mean I should strap on my armor and break out the bandages...
The first obstacle was what to put the fish in; I tried several ideas at first but they quickly failed or I realized how preposterous the idea was soon after I began. I was down to two options fairly soon. Option one; bucket. The bucket was a straight forward idea and I figured it was most likely the best. I was correct...to a point. Smaller fish would fit in the bucked along with the required water. Why spend so much effort to move Herring and Bass, if I was going through so much trouble why not big Catfish or Gar instead? One reason might be they DON'T FIT IN THE BUCKET... a thirty pound Catfish is not, will not, no matter how hard you push or how you stuff it going to fit in a bucket...with water. Four feet of Gar is similarly problematic fitting into a bucket, you can hack it to bits and it fits quite nicely but what the hell's the point of THAT...?
I was down to my last and oddest option...lion bag. There seems to be little end to what gets forced in to these bags. I am willing to bet I'm the only one to try, not only live fish but also the water!
Who would have guessed they were watertight, unless you completely up-end it. It did not take long to catch a few test subjects and fill the bag, in no time I was off with my first participants of forced relocation.
Things went well for a while, the bag was not heavy but the motion of walking was soon transferred to the water and it began so slosh back and forth in the bag. I got a bit wet but that was not the problem, the motion of the water made me stagger along like a drunkard and that only increased the water motion and soon I could barely stumble along at all. I had to put the bag down. Still in motion when I placed it on the ground it soon began to wobble off...it was very weird to watch my bag 'wander' away from me. It settled down after a few minutes and I headed off again, taking frequent breaks along the way. Up to this point this looked very promisingly like the solution to moving fish from one body of water to another...
(I need to add promisingly to the list of strap on the armor and break out the bandages)
I'm going to assume someone had been mining gold and got the Hill hounds and Kenku all sorts of riled up. I have dealt with both of these foes plenty of times before and they pose little threat even in numbers. The problem I had was not only the numbers were much greater...I was looking at eight hounds and almost two-dozen Kenku, but they were ready for a fight. I had barely arrived and this mob was on me; two-dozen invisible Kenku...sneak attack after sneak attack after sneak attack, then the hounds smelled the blood and came bounding over the hill. Their arrival was not going to be helpful at all...
Normally my pack is secured and carefully packed to evenly distribute the weight so I can fight if need be while wearing it. This time was however anything but normal. In fact I had four large fish and the water needed to keep them alive sloshing around. I was off balance just walking and now I had to fight...a lot.
I could not get the pack off in time, the Kenku were on me so fast and in such numbers there was no way to drop it. I was stuck with it for the time being. Wavering like a drunk and feeling like a one-legged man in an arse kicking contest I battled on... (well I tried anyhow) I was unable to run even if I had not been surrounded and the hounds were closing, very soon I would have eight more foes to contend with. I had killed a few of the Kenku but there was still way too many for any kind of actual defense or attack, I simply swung at the swarm and tried to block what I could...Then the hounds arrived.
The hounds arrived like a storm making land fall, they ran right through the mass of Kenku snarling and biting. They immediately turned on the Kenku, much to my surprise and even more to my relief. The hounds made quick work of the Kenku and soon nothing but dismembered limbs and torn carcasses remained of the Kenku...
I looked at the hounds and they looked at me...what now...
A shrill whistle cut the silence and the hounds turned and trotted off up the hill. A figure appeared at the crest, saying nothing they raised a hand in greeting and disappeared with the hounds over the hill.
Totally exhausted and still unable to believe my luck, I collapsed to the ground. Flopping back on my pack produced a great gush of water that covered me in fish smelling water. Covered in cuts and bruises, soaked to the bone and smelling of fish I moved on again. I had no more incidents along the way and soon I was at my destination.
Laying the bag down I untied the straps and dumped the fish into the water, success! I had taken them from one location to another and they survived the trek. I was feeling very self-important when the fish all went belly up...
Seems Gar and Catfish don't live long out of FRESHWATER... I had tried to put them in the sea....
What the hell do I know about fish...
-
The sounds of battle carried across the lake; the reverberation of steel on steel rang loudly and I easily followed it to the spot.
What ever had happened was over when I arrived but from the scene it was obviously a vicious clash. The grass had been trampled flat for many feet in all directions and was splashed with blood and gore. Broken shields and shattered weapons lay strewn in the grass and dozens of arrows protruded from tree trunks or stood fletching up from the sod. Simply walking through the grass soaked the hem of my cloak in blood and my armor was reddened to the knees. Cautiously making my way through the grass I nevertheless stumbled over masses of unidentifiable meat or slipped on lengths of spilled intestine. Many times I squished ankle deep in puddles of red-black coagulating blood. The still air was heavy with the coppery smell of blood and the deeper stench of insides, now on the outside. Flies had begun to arrive in droves and soon the sound of their buzzing drowned out most other sounds. The bodies were barely recognizable; most were nothing but trunks missing both arms and legs, some missing one or both arms and a few missing legs. From the numbers of left limbs I guessed about two dozen lay about in the grass, all were without heads...I did find a piece of skull still sporting a tuft of long black hair, it appears the owner tried to duck, only to have the top of its head removed...
I am still not absolutely sure even what the bodies were. About the size Gnolls but none had the odd knee direction of Gnolls and they were too small to be Bugbear, yet too big to be Kenku. The state of the other remains were of no help in identifying the carcasses, the cleanly severed limbs and cleaved bodies only showed an ax at work but were little help otherwise. The bodies were clearly all from the same group, what of the other? I could see no marks left from dragging fallen companions, nor did I find any signs of two large parties meeting. I am no Ranger but I can read tracks well enough, years of solo scrounging have left me with some useful skills. I can tell some things from tracks; direction of travel, speed and an approximate weight. Granted a skilled Ranger could give me a step by step reconstruction of the fight by the tracks alone but I had a pretty good idea from my own observations. It became obvious after more poking around that it had not been two groups, but a group and a single individual. The evidence was pretty telling as to the group vs. individual theory; firstly all the arrows were headed in one direction and all had the same fletching. All the hand weapons were crudely forged and of similar design, as were the shields. The arrangement of the corpses clearly showed the fighters in clusters and the archers spread over a semicircle well behind and just like the other weapons all the bows were of similar design and construction. A single combatant had dispatched two dozen enemies and by the lack of any contrary evidence walked away...
I could find little sign of the victor, other than the utter destruction the axe had wrought on these opponents. I did find very large tracks with deep impressions leading me to believe they were left by an individual weighting somewhere close to six hundred pounds with a stride covering nearly six feet...Giants would leave a wake of destruction similar to this but their tracks are much larger, considerably deeper, they were likely to have eaten most of the 'meat'. The taking of the heads but leaving the remainder to draw flies is puzzling...
The taking of an adversary's head is not new but I have not seen it first hand, the need for such 'trophies' seem a bit....well.....disturbing.
-
After the disastrous conclusion of our diamond excursion I had pretty well given up the idea of working on one for a while, so I once again set my eye on Fire Opals. I managed to fight my way through the giants camped in the forest and after a bit of a break to dress wounds and get a bite to eat I headed for the cave entrance.
Where to my surprise I again encountered the stranger from the desert. This second meeting went much like the first...he talked I listened, mostly confused. He talks not so much in riddles as in references, still they are very hard to follow and most of his message does not get across. My questions draw questions in response and I am more bewildered by these 'answers' than the original question. He persists with calling me Traveler and it makes me a bit uneasy to have a 'title' per say, especially one I do not understand the reason for. He made reference to helping with hounds and I knew instantly he had been the one on the hill, the one who had controlled the Hill Hounds that aided me against the Kenku. Why had he been there, why help me, was he following me and if so why...?
When I presented these questions to him I got an answer much like I had expected; "I follow many...yet I follow only one". What the hells did that mean...
With a small wave he turned and walked off, as he disappeared into the forest a shrill whistle cut the air and from the bushes emerged a very large Dire Bear. With a huff my way it hurried off in the direction of its 'master' leaving me just as confused as after our first meeting.
I could think on this all day but there were opals to chip at, and I figure I'll see him again. Focusing on the task at hand I put him in the back of my mind, preoccupation and giants rarely go together well. Buffed, ready to layout some giants and dig some opals I headed in. It was pretty standard, get their attention, find some cover to ambush them as they passed and try for a knockdown. It works well and if it ain't broke don't fix it. They did manage to get a few good licks in but they are pretty big and if you get em really riled up they get kinda clumsy. Even hitting each other from time to time, and at one point two of them knocked a third to the ground! Thanks for the help fellas. The real trouble begins when they get them vines going around your feet; a stationary target is not what you want to be. Luckily the vines did not get hold of me...not for their lack of trying mind you...
With the giants taken care of I was free to dig the opals. I found a belt on one of the giants, it looks like a 'Healers Hug' but I will have to get it identified to be sure...looks can be deceiving.
The opal veins were astounding and I filled an entire lion bag from two deposits, without breaking a single chisel. Along with opals I also found several unknown minerals that I will need to wash to be certain of their exact type. Loaded with opals and almost giddy with my good fortune not only in opals but the luck of possibly finding such a useful belt I headed for Prantz to cut my stones.
-
My first stop in Prants...after the desk...was the craft merchant for some polishing oil. After purchasing enough oil I headed for the craft hall to cut and polish the opals. I almost forgot to wash my other minerals but remembered and did that first. The first was Topaz but to my surprise the other three were diamonds! Excellent news indeed, I had a sack full of Fire Opals and three diamonds to work on. I had defiantly had my work cut out for me. I cut first the Topaz followed by all the Fire Opals, my fingers and wrists were killing me. I saved the diamonds for last and was a bit anxious about trying to cut them as I did not want to waste them with any mistakes. The Topaz came out flawlessly and only a few opals had minor flaws in them, the rest were magnificent. Cleaning up my mess I debated whether or not to try the diamonds. Finally deciding to go ahead and give it a shot I laid them out on the bench. Laying out my jewelers' tools, polishing oil and a few rags I took a deep breath and reached for the first...
Success eluded me with the first two, both came out with too many flaws and I was forced to grind them to dust. Disheartened I contemplated holding off on the last gem until I had improved my skills a bit, diamonds are tough to come by and I had wasted the first two. For a long while I stood at the bench staring at the third diamond...
With careful concentration I began working the third and last of the diamonds. My eye throbbed from the strain of scrutinizing each chip of the chisel and several times I had to stop and stare at the furthest wall of the craft hall to relax my eye. Sweat beaded on my forehead and my fingers ached terribly but I had done it. I was holding a perfectly cut diamond. It took over an hour to polish the stone and when it was done is was breathtaking. My hands still covered in oil I held it up to the light, a single drip of oil slid from my hand and dropped right into my eye. The reflexive jerk sent the diamond flying and it skidded across the floor...
Blinded by the oil I got down on my hands and knees to search the floor. Groping like a blind man (which I defiantly was) crawling on all fours and doing my best to see out of my eye. Polishing oil is great for its intended use, not so great for ones eyesight. Several times I was asked what I was doing by others working in the hall and each time I had to explain my 'accident'. Bad enough to drop a diamond but now I was crawling along the floor like the village idiot trying to locate it...
I did eventually locate it, only after pouring the contents of three canteens over my face to flush the oil from my eye. Soaking wet and sporting an angry red eye but in possession of my wayward stone I left the hall. I could have been worse. I could have rubbed my eye after working with Fire Beetle bellies, but that's another story all together.....
-
The world is a funny place...not so much 'Ha Ha' funny, but odd funny. Granted it does have its moments of humor and I for one try to increase the percentage as often as possible... (some find my timing poor... oh well.)
Many of my past entries indicate a peculiar trend of misfortune and serious cases of 'wrong place at the wrong time'. Many of these events, unfortunate as they are truly seem to show an uncanny ability to get out of serious trouble unscathed...mostly. My poor rear might disagree with that initial 'unscathed' assessment. If I look back through these pages I find may times I have come off much better they one could expect...
Cases in point;
- I was set on fire while I slept by a woman who shall remain nameless...
- The bear that crashed...quite literally...in on me while bathing.
- The errant arrow...painful as it was...had only struck me in my buttocks.
- My immensely foolish attempt to take on the Minotaur's.
- Surviving the implosion spell...cast by said Minotaur's.
- The unfortunate run in with the ship captain and his entire crew
- The Swamp Troll I had to dispatch with nothing but my shield.
- The sacking of my fishing camp by the Giants.(and the resulting explosion)
- The arrival of the (thankfully) dominated Hill Hounds whilst surrounded by Kenku.
These 'happenings' beg the question is my luck good or bad? I seem to have an unfortunate aptitude for attracting theses events; therefore my luck must be bad? While on the other hand I often come away with little or no major difficulties; therefore is my luck good? Do you see my dilemma...is my luck good or bad? Does karma keep score, if so does she like to keep the books balanced...or balanced in her favor?
-
Opals and giants seem to consume much of my time nowadays; Giants topping the list is little surprise, I seem to have a penchant for felling giants and with my continuing endeavors in fine gem work I find the two of them quite favorably linked. Perhaps it is no coincidence that the opal veins are located in a cave system inhabited by giants, as are the surrounding forests. So I find two of my greatest pleasures in one location, fine red opals and big ugly giants. What can be better than assaulting the giant encampment in the forest and continuing to the cave bristling with giants eager to splash their blood on your shield and die on your weapon? Little except being able to cut magnificent red opals from the veins that run the depths of the cave... (perhaps the coal as well, I do like to dabble with fire bombs from time to time... Speaking of fire bombs; I had an interesting idea while putting out the fire...)
I am certainly becoming a better gem cutter, nothing in the caliber of the greater smiths around but proficient enough to cut the stones I gather, which is all I am aiming for anyhow. (maybe I'll try fletching next, make my own arrows...) Now that I no longer smash my fingers and lose my fingernails the work is much more enjoyable, not exactly profitable but enjoyable...
-
I have long dabbled in alchemy, although I have not recently as stone cutting has consumed the time I could have devoted to dabbling...
Recently I did go back to it. I had been collecting a bit of silk and to leave the beetles seemed so wasteful... (perhaps it is the pack- rat in me) so I stuffed em in my bag. The beetles sure do repopulate fast, much faster than I remember. I soon had dozens of 'bits' before I even had half a box of silk. Taking up nearly all my space I decided to sell them off for a bit of coin but while departing the Silkwood I decided to process the 'bits' into throw able weapons. They can be very handy in a pinch, more than once my hide has been saved by one of these last-ditch attempts. I bought the necessary containers both vials and pouches, not expensive but it took sometime to move things around my pack to get them all in. Looking back it had been some years since I last bottled and bagged any beetle bits and I was surprised by how forgetful I was to the actual processes for each. I mistakenly put the acidic liquid from the bombardier beetle in a leather pouch...not the best of ideas or a pinnacle of brilliance on my part. After much cleaning up and more than a few blisters I was back on track...or so I thought.
Things were bubbling away happily while I worked on filling the pouches with the powder I had prepared; I had filled thirty to forty pouches and was preparing to put them in my pack when I was distracted by the madly bubbling concoction. Easily twenty-five vials worth of fire beetle was on the verge of detonation, I tried not to slosh it while quickly removing it from the heat...
The ensuing conflagration will be talked of for years... (thankfully there were survivors)
While concentrating on not sloshing the boiling and insanely flammable contents I stepped on a glass eye someone had carelessly left laying on the floor. I danced around trying to keep my balance and not splash 'hell in a cauldron' around the place but to no avail. Fully half of the brew poured out on to the pile of filled pouches I had meant to put away earlier. Time seemed to slow down as the liquid dropped towards the harmless looking pouches; I almost had enough time to say to myself...'OH...CRAAAA....'
With a blinding flash and a wave of intense heat the pouches went up like...like...well like a bunch of leather pouches suddenly soaked in a boiling flammable liquid. The fireball reached the ceiling and thick green-black smoke pushed ahead of it spread to all corners of the large room. The blast had cleared the table I'd been working on and flung everything to the floor. Flasks shattered splattering acid several feet from their point of origin and the rugs disappeared into smoke as I watched. I tried to stamp out the flaming pouches but that only increased the cloud of choking dust that was emanating from them and being spread throughout the room by the smoke and rising heat of the fire. Several of the remaining people were walking around dazedly and I realized they had been affected by the powder and stomping on the flaming bags was doing more harm than good. Thankfully I remained unaffected by the effects and was albeit unsuccessfully able to continue my attempts to extinguish the now raging fire. I had to get the affected folks out, if I was unable to douse the flames the whole building might be lost and they would not be able to save themselves in their current state. After rounding them up and herding them out I went back to do what I could...
All my efforts...save for getting people out... had been useless if not increasingly detrimental to the whole situation. How was I going to get the fire out now, the entire area I had been working in was now ablaze. I needed water and plenty of it; a well would have helped my efforts greatly but not having foreseen a firestorm indoors one had not been dug... (who would have guessed there may be a need for it?) My only recourse was the enchanting pool...
Emptying the contents of my lion bag I began to fill it with great scoops of water from the pool. (I knew it would hold water from my attempts to relocate fish) I first made a perimeter of wet rugs to keep the base of the fire from spreading further; next I soaked down the biggest carpet I could find and when I was sure it was wet enough I pulled over as much of the burning materials as I could. This cut down the size of the fire considerably and I was beginning to think I might have a chance of getting it put out. The rug steamed furiously but had smothered the flames underneath. The plaster of the ceiling was holding up fairly well under the intense heat, small portions had cracked and fallen but the majority was still insulating the wooden beams of the floor above. Between the waterlogged carpet and the now soaked floor there was little the fire could spread to that would still burn and slowly I was able to drown the rest of the flames. The smoke was heavy and very irritating, but once I opened the door the room was free of the majority of the smoke very quickly. I could now see the wreckage that had once been the alchemy work stations...
Waterlogged, soot stained and reeking of smoke the entire area was a total write-off. Charred tables, melted glassware, distorted metal shapes that had once been alchemy equipment and rugs partially dissolved by acid lay scattered in heaps or puddles... sometimes both...
The entire length of the ceiling was the ugly greenish-black color of the smoke and a smoke line extended down from the ceiling about six feet. Sections of plaster had dropped free and a few of the beams were slightly charred, it appeared to be minimal. Closer inspection verified they had taken little to no actual damage and the floor above was in no danger of being the floor below.
The crunch of glass underfoot caused me to turn around and I was staring at the soot blackened face of Moraken...
The vein on his head was in severe danger of explosion; I think he had actually lost the power of speech, and he simply vibrated on the spot. His eyes quivered and the vein continued to pulsate threateningly. He simply pointed to the door...
I left him a very large bag of Trues for damages...how much I do not know I simply took everything I had and gave it to him. I believe I will go back to cutting gems, there is little prospect of massive destruction working with stones....
The next one to use the enchanting pool may find it a bit....low.
-
While fighting the fire I had the most interesting idea; seeing how the fire spread the choking powder to affect nearly all the people in the room I wondered about the possibility of encasing a firebomb inside a pouch of powder?
The detonation of the flask would release the powder incapacitating any within range. Unable to escape the flames they would suffer greater damage from the fire than if they could escape quickly. This one-two punch might increase the potency of both flask and pouch weapons and open a new market for the seldom used items. Perhaps they might go from being a last ditch effort to a formidable frontline weapon. What could be better than to incapacitate and then reduce to ashes a would-be attacker?
...very little in my opinion...
After the unfortunate events of my last alchemy session I had decided to forgo any more work with explosives, powders or acids but I feel this possible application warrants further investigation. I have no doubt however that I will have to find another location to do the work...
-
My investigation and experiments into combining both fire bombs and choking powder have progressed. After finding another suitable location to conduct the actual distilling and bottling I have made several field tests of possible combinations and delivery methods.
None so far have been satisfactorily deployed nor have I found the correct mixture...
The idea itself is sound, of that I am sure. The difficulties lay in getting both fire and powder to work simultaneously at their "normal" potency.
- The powder itself in not flammable and has the odd effect of often interrupting the detonation of the fire bomb.
- The powder when sprinkled directly into the flames of a fire causes the flames to temporarily dissipate (not the greatest of reactions while working to develop a flame weapon.)
- If detonation is retarded the spread of the powder is minimal, far less than just using the powder alone.
- If any of the firebombs liquid seeps into the powder it cakes and dispersal is impossible.
- If too much liquid seeps into the powder it has nasty inclinations to spontaneous detonate (also not helpful.)
- Often only one of the components work as they are intended; the firebomb goes off or the powder is dispersed satisfactorily.
- The ratio of single component failure to total component failure is considerably higher (while troublesome it is still encouraging.)
- Finding the right measure of fire to powder is critical to achieve maximum detonation and dispersal (this can be tricky as not all the bugs are exactly alike.)
- Too much fire damages the powder, reducing its potency.
- Too much powder diminishes the blast radius of bomb.
The deliver method has, after many combinations and trials also given me troubles. The glass and cloth combination required have been problematic.
- Placing the glass vial inside the cloth bag of powder cushions the glass, total failure often results (approaching the unexploded sack is always nerve-racking.)
- Placing the bag inside the vial causes the powder to soak up the liquid, becoming caked and dispersal becomes impossible.
- Tying the pouch to the vial usually results in 'single component failure' be it the powder or fire, neither have had satisfactory results.
- Powder packed in to a vial seldom disperses well.
- The accidental detonation rate of the liquid / pouch trials have themselves concluded the infeasibility of continuing this avenue of delivery.
I have been tinkering with the idea of acid induced ignition. Small scale trials have shown some success in the application. A single drop of acid when placed in to a similarly small quantity of firebomb produces a fantastic reaction. The acid ignites the liquid 100% of the time and with tremendous force. The resulting reaction seems much hotter than just the standard firebomb and it burns with such intensity that it 'spits' flaming globs in all directions. I have undertaken many attempts to harness the triple combination into a useful and stable weapon. As with the double mixture the triple components only compound the problems.
- The more powerful ignition always destroys the powders effectiveness.
- Increasing the powder decreases the explosive yield to below minimum acceptable requirements.
- The meticulous precision that must be practiced while placing the vial of acid in to the firebomb exclude the possibility of mass production on the scale of arrows or other "disposable weapons"
- Any leaks or unintentional combination of acid and firebomb have 'unfortunate results'.
- The tiny acid 'detonator' is extremely fragile and prone to failure and premature detonation.
- Any defect in the seal of the acid vial result in 'unfortunate results'.
- Accidental reactions are common as are spontaneous detonations.
- Once suspended in the firebomb the fragile acid vial often breaks as a result of sustained movement with in the liquid.
- The power of detonation is exponentially linked to the number of devices involved, two have the power of four, four the power of sixteen and so on (I have not tested the explosive yield of more than four...I am a bit fearful of the result.)
- The previous two points have great bearing on the feasibility of this weapon; the accidental detonation of ten jostling bombs in a pack would have a kill radius of possibly several hundred yards.
The issue of instability is the major setback to this practical yet for now unfeasible weapon. The idea is sound and testing has showed the potential of such weapons. Many problems remain yet to be overcome but I will continue testing and retesting until I have solved these issues or the stability of the device proves unachievable...
-
Caerwyn gave me the greatest idea; "Skip the powder...use caltrops."
Now that was sheer genius, fire AND fragmentation! If I can get the fire/powder combination to work adding the caltrops should be a snap. I am still plagued with failures and setbacks but I will continue the experiments.
Accidental and spontaneous detonations are still occurring regularly, I have concerns with adding fragmentation elements to the unstable test designs. Fire, acid and choking powders are all dangerous as is, I think adding the caltrops until I have a stable and reliable delivery platform might be a bit reckless. The occasional fires and a few minutes of walking around dazed are nothing compared to being perforated by high velocity, nearly molten metal...(testing this combination might be fun...now, where did I put those chickens?)
-
I have made what I think to be the 'breakthrough' that has been up to now eluding me...
Limestone; powdered limestone to be exact, such a simple 'fix' I feel almost foolish to have overlooked it in my trails. Why had I not tried limestone before? I tried everything I could think of. Chicken blood, powdered silver, mushroom powder (this last one had some very strange side effects...) charcoal, sand, sponge, ground corn and wheat. The limestone was accidental, fortunate but accidental...what is not accidental with me?
While trying all the different combinations I found that some of the materials react badly with each other and 'unfortunate results' were common and frequent. I found that a thorough cleaning with water and limestone seemed to neutralize the reactive action between the components. Right there under my nose was the possible answer to many of the issues that plagued my research.
So close I had overlooked it, not only will I be looking at it...I will be scrutinizing it.
-
There is much work to be done...
Flasks of fire, bags of choking powder, vials of acid and hundreds of loose caltrops litter my working area, what a combination to be messing around with. If something goes really, really badly I hope there will be enough left for someone to identify...
The limestone seems to be a very promising avenue of investigation; so far I have had no spontaneous detonations! The limestone seems to decrease the acids instability making it less likely to 'brew up' on its own.
The firebomb needed little actual work; any alchemist worth his salt can make firebombs. The acid-vial trigger required much more work; finding the right combination and amounts of components, the constant issues with seal failure on the acid vial and the probability of unintended activation of the device. Took considerable amount of time and tinkering to overcome, not that they are completely eliminated but I seem to be on the right track.
- Simply adding a bit of Gum Arabic to the vial seal has so far been successful in reducing accidental detonation. (still not 100% but close...very close.)
- The addition of limestone to the acid has decreased the accidental detonation rate considerably, while remaining potent enough to react favorably with the fire components.
- Replacing the bronze wire with copper wire has also shown it's effectiveness at staving off the corrosive effect of the firebombs contents, further reducing the likelihood of premature acid/fire contact.
Promising as these new developments are there is much more testing to be conducted. A working weapon is easily still months (if ever) away from possible production...
-
Caerwyn's idea about using the caltrops got me to thinking about tangle foot bags...
There has been no actual testing only theory at this point. Why not combine tangle foot bags and firebombs? If the tangle component is flammable it will wrap the target in tendrils of fiery ouchyness (is ouchynees even a word?). Holding them fast and inflicting serious burns to the now immobile target, allowing you time to make your escape or fill them full of arrows. (your choice)
Between the caltrops and tangle foot additions I find it hard not to try these new ideas out. Maintaining my stance that the initial designs be fully completed prior to testing these new ideas is taking more and more restraint... (maybe just a few preliminary tests...Here chickie, chickie, chickie......)
-
Research continues...and continues....and continues...
Progress has slowed greatly in the past weeks. My stockpile of supplies dwindled to zilch and I was forced away from my work by the necessity of gathering more components, not that I mind. While wandering the Silkwood I again came across a scene of destruction and death similar to the one by the lake some weeks ago. Just as before; bodies mostly dismembered, showing large ax wounds and many missing the head. Also present were the large tracks I had seen at the other site but unlike before I could tell these were clearly Gnoll corpses even without the heads. While poking around I also found several broken skulls; two of the skulls appeared to be Goblinoid and the third I could not hazard a guess as it was little more than scattered fragments. Where had the Goblin skull come from, few Goblins venture the woods and I have never seen Gnolls keep the heads of any foe...How had they ended up here and why? Were they a message, perhaps a warning of some sort? ....more questions than answers...Time is precious and time away from research or testing is time wasted...
I continued my replenishment efforts...tracking and dispatching insects by the dozen. With my pack filled to capacity I headed out to purchase the pouches, flasks and vials I needed to continue working.
I was stopped in my tracks by the bellow that boomed out of the darkening forest...somewhere in the gloom two groups blundered into one another and battle had commenced. From the sound it could be my 'mysterious' ax man, metal clanged, great roars of rage and pain rippled through the wood. Moving cautiously I approached just far enough to see the fight...
What a fight it was; the mystery ax man was no man at all, from all appearances he must be giant kin at least...around nine feet tall, six hundred pounds and carrying a shield so big it looks like it might have been a door... (so help me gods it looks like a tavern door)...adorned with skulls of all sort. I could not see an ax; in fact I saw no weapon at all save for the shield, a formidable weapon nonetheless...
As I watched Gnolls were smashed with the huge shield, grabbed by the neck, stomped under foot and I even saw one yanked off his feet and swung into a tree...then I saw the ax; imbedded at an odd angle in the trunk of a large tree several feet behind the fight. Perhaps an over swing or a back swing had caused it to become wedged and instead of wasting time trying to free it they just continued with hands, feet and shield...
While I was contemplating the loss of the ax the fight had come to an end. All the Gnolls were down and the 'giant' was now seated among the carnage applying bandages to its wounds. Still sitting among the corpses it produced form its pack and ate what looked like a skunk...maybe a badger?
Seeming content with the meal it got to its feet and began to check the bodies for valuables. Once this was done it began to my revulsion, remove some of the heads. It looked over each carefully and with some calculation decided which to take. The heads were not cut from the bodies or even hacked with the more than adequate ax...each head was ripped free...
Placing a foot on the back of the corpse, the head taken in a vise like grip the body was then arched back over the foot and the head wrenched free with a deep, wet pop...
Several times this scene played out; each head in turn was placed in the pack... (the same pack the 'food' came from)... Having chosen and removed the acceptable heads it moved to retrieve the ax. Several kicks to the handle were required to free it, I can see why they chose to leave it imbedded and fight without it...
Twice now have I come across the remains left in its wake, I had been hoping to meet the one responsible for such destruction and carnage. After observing the fight however I was having second thoughts...
I moved quietly away from the scene...perhaps if I come across this 'man' in town I may approach but here in the wood...after witnessing the brutality of the fight and the taking of heads...I will keep my distance till then...
-
It seems I have to bow to the inevitable...
I have overcome most of the obstacles in the path to a reliable (not to mention useful) throw able weapon. Increasing the yield of the various types available I had hoped would make these last-ditch weapons more of a frontline / first strike weapon. After weeks of trial and error the feasibility and reliability of the device seem not to overlap, increasing the yield also increases the instability. Increasing the stability decreases the yield to pre-improvement level negating the entire benefit of the project. Weeks of exhaustive testing have been unable to resolve this loop rendering the entire project moot; why increase yield when the entire thing may blow up in your pack...or your face and why make it stable enough not to ignite prematurely if it will be no more powerful than pre-modification? The time and risks involved are too great to make it a worth while endeavor...
I have tested every facet of each possible weapon and find the instability / yield problem to be insurmountable... (at this time). As stated previously the yield of several devices simultaneously ignited will be exponentially increased in direct proportion to the number involved. I had been apprehensive about testing this to a greater degree as the exact ratio of devices to yield is not exact as each device is a bit different in potency... (this also has been impossible to remedy). I continued on this course of testing as I felt it was imperative to understand the effects of several devices at once. The accidental detonation of numerous devises as maybe stored in a pack I felt needed to be calculated, understood and if possible verified. The testing was both terrifying and awe-inspiring to behold...
Using concentric circles that expanded five meters with each ring to a total of fifty meters I tested each type of device;
*Type 1 - 1b (Fire/Choking Powder, Expanded Fire/Choking Powder, Acid Ignited Fire/Choking Powder)
*Type 2 - 2b (Fire/Caltrop, Expanded Fire/Caltrop, Acid Ignited Fire/Caltrop)
Four devices contained in a lion bag were placed on a post driven in the centermost ring and detonated by dropping the bag the twelve inches to the ground. Twelve inches has shown to be a sufficient enough drop to initiate self-ignition ... (it also is the approximate height one might drop their pack to the ground when removing it from their person).
*Type 1- 1b testing was conducted using combat dummies; the effects of the powder were not the main focus of the test, effects of the fire components were the main concern. Just how devastating would an accidental activation of multiple devices be?
- The dummies in the first twenty meters were totally incinerated leaving nothing but ash.
- At twenty-five to thirty five meters the dummies suffered serious to severe burn damage (nearly all of the clothing was burned away).
- Forty to fifty meters suffered minor burns...
Testing indicates that an accidental detonation of four devices would be unequivocally fatal to the bearer of the bag and any within twenty-five meters would be burned to death as well. Those unlucky enough to be with in thirty-five meters would suffer almost certainly fatal burns as well. Those at greater than forty meters would survive suffering only minor burns but bearing witness to a most horrific death of those closer to the epicenter...
(testing was conducted three times and all results were comparatively similar.)
*Type 2 - 2b testing was a bit tougher as its main focus was the lethality of the Caltrops as they were projected at high speed. Combat dummies were originally to be used once again but calculating what was lethal to hunk of wood in clothing seemed a bit foolish. I decided on live test subjects. Chickens have been bearing the burden of my testing to this point... (I have been eating a lot of chicken), but the chickens seemed a bit small and rather unsuited for testing on the scope I was about to undertake...(besides, you can kill chickens if you scare them badly enough). I needed something with a bit more mass...I purchased several oxen and tethered them at the same locations occupied by the dummies. The test evidence is truly frightening...
- All Type 2 - 2b devices are lethal at WELL OVER fifty meters. Every ox was killed out to the fifty meter ring...as well as several tethered for the next test over eighty meters away.
- The horrific damage inflicted by the Caltrops as they move through the target is unequaled; Oxen closer than thirty meters were nothing more than strips of flesh.
- At the forty-five meter range the Oxen were in shreds but discernable as Oxen.
- Fifty to eighty meters (presumably beyond) the Oxen were mostly intact but most suffered fatal wounded as well.
I was lucky enough to avid being struck by any Caltrops but not so in avoiding Oxen wreckage; I was covered head to foot in blood and bits of meat...
Testing indicates that the accidental or intentional activation with in a crowd, such as an adventuring party or gathering place (Hemp fountain) would produce massive casualties and any not immediately killed would suffer devastating, probably fatal wounds. The usefulness of such a weapon cannot be over looked; the likelihood of accident and certain death to the user negates any possible benefit of such weapons. While the devastating effects and the usefulness of employing such a weapon against an enemy cannot be denied, getting it safely from point A to point B is in serious doubt...
It is with much disappoint that I must given the facts of testing that these weapons have no practical purpose, the likelihood of accidental ignition/detonation is too great and no likely remedy is foreseeable. After so much time and energy devoted to this project I had hoped to solve the issues and come away with a satisfactorily deployable weapon.
-As of now this project has been deemed unadvisable for production-
-
As usual I find myself behind in jotting things down...
Misfortune and fortune often go hand in hand and if you get through one you might just reach the other. The giants had been given a reprieve as I was too busy doing other things, to strike their encampments as usual. Finished with my prior engagements I was freed to resume my campaign against the giants and to this endeavor I again threw my fullest attentions and effort.
Successfully assaulting giants seems to be a perishable skill; the funny thing about a perishable skill is you have no idea that it has wilted until you use it.
I had forgotten several important truths about giants.
1. they are big
2. they are not very friendly
3. they are big
4. they are tough
5. they come in several types...all are big
6. they hit hard
It was not long after opening hostilities that these truths came back to me...actually they came AT me. I was lucky to say the least. Five giants rushed at me and I was not really feeling the love. I did back myself into a corner to keep them from surrounding me but I had no escape...except right through em all. Breathing heavily I set my feet, brought up my shield and waited for them to close the distance...
Giving better than I was getting we battled on and on and on; I'd knock em down and they'd get right back up swinging. Swing, dodge, block, swing, jab, maybe a kick or two and I even tried to daze a few. By the end of it although pretty banged up I had five dead giants at my feet. Taking five at once was foolish albeit unintentional but what was I going to do, I had gotten their attention and had to finish what I had started. While tending my wounds I took time to get my head on straight. Everything I needed was in there somewhere; I just needed to get to the front again. This was not my first go round with giants by any means; I just had been out of the game for a while.
The giants had not reformed when I again entered their camp so I was able to simply stroll through the rain to the cave. I used my meager magic's and tromped down the stone steps to the mouth. Cool and rain free the cave was welcoming right up to the point where the giants were. They wandered around grumbling and doing what giants do. I moved to the cover of a rock outcropping and using it to shield me from view I took stock of the situation. Four ax wielding giants and one that looked to be of the casting type...no visible weapon.
I stepped from the cover and waved at the nearest one who immediately bellowed and headed right for me...with the other three in tow. Again I had drawn nearly all of them to me at once. This went much like the first, lots of hitting and being hit. Then the spell arrived...some type of plant growth began tangling around my legs making any attempt at knocking down my opponents impossible. Minus my biggest advantage and most useful tactic I was stuck slugging it out with blade and shield. Thankfully I had not actually been seen by the caster; he simply cast in the area of the fight and seemingly content with his contribution continued to wander in the back of the passage. I was soon able to correct his thinking on just how helpful his contribution really was, as I charged around the corner, dropped him on his arse with a suburb knockdown and planted my blade right in his big stupidly surprised face.
This time I had come off better and just a few bandages had me felling just ducky. The rest of the cave was similar in the combat, ax wielders and another caster but I had better cover in the following chamber and had little difficulty limiting their movement and numbers. I had been barely scratched in the last fight and decided to move on without resting.
I did however relieve my full bladder in one of the huts just a little something to remember me by.
The lower caverns can be a bit tricky and I had never been this deep alone. I knew the layout and what I was likely to find further on, I was not however expecting to be trapped for more than a week...
No sooner had I moved into the room then I nearly ran head first into a wandering, ax wielding giant and the fight was on. The sounds soon drew in more and more giants and I stopped trying to count them. Luckily I was in a tight space and only one could attack me at a time so at least I was not going to be surrounded. I have no idea how many I had felled when I felt a great heat on my back and the smell of burned wood filled my nostrils choking me a bit as I took in great breaths from all the exertion. Coughing badly as my eye burned and watered I continued the fight by swinging at blurred shapes. I do not recall moving to engage the caster but I must have because it lay dead at my feet when my eye stopped watering and my vision returned. Looking around at the carnage I found nine dead including the caster, I also notice the right shoulder of my cloak was nearly burned away and the armor underneath was scorched. My head must have been the casters target and he had just barely missed me with the fire ball or some similar spell. The door on the other hand had taken the full brunt and smoldered badly. I should have checked it then...
With the giants temporarily scattered I took the opportunity to get a few opals. I was surprised by my luck in acquiring nearly twenty opals from the two deposits, taking this as a sign I should depart I gathered up my gear and headed out.
The door was still smoking slightly as I went to open it and no matter how hard I pulled I found it stuck tight. Closer inspection revealed the hinges had been fused by the heat and now were totally inoperable. My attempts to first kick the door down were futile, as the door opens towards me I was doing little than pushing it against the frame and supporting stonework. My next attempt was just as useless; I tried breaking it down with the impact of a running start. I had hoped the wood might be weakened by the fire but to no avail; it was as strong as ever. I had acquired a mace from one of the deceased giants and tried that as well but it too proved little use and by the time I was done beating on the door it looked more like a sickle then the mace it had been. My final attempt consumed six of my eighteen chisels as I tried to cut the hinges from first the door itself and then the stone around it, again to no avail. By now I was getting a bit desperate; the giants would soon muster enough courage to return and I was stuck in their lair with no way out.
Old habits die hard; I still carry enough provisions for several days and water was similarly not a problem as there are several pools scattered about the caverns I could utilize. The most troubling aspect was being trapped in the caverns with giants for gods know how long and the prospect of battling endless waves of giants was not something I was looking forward to. I needed a defensible I could hold for an indefinite period of time...
I scouted around and found the best place to make my stand was in the smaller grotto containing the opal deposits. There was a potable pool of water, cover I could use, a small fissure behind two large stone formations I could use to limit the numbers of attackers who could come at me and the opal deposits. I had a place to make my stand, water, food and something to do between giant assaults... (mine opals). I had little idea of just how long I would be there but for the meantime I was looking pretty good for the circumstances...Four days later I was still trapped and now beginning to run low on food. I had not taken into consideration the energy expended fighting waves of giants' every few hours and just how much food would be consumed just to keep me going. I had opals aplenty but no matter how nice they look ya still can't eat em.
As my food supplies continued to dwindle at an alarming pace I was forced to consider alternate sources. I do enjoy Troll headcheese and have tried many different types of flora and fauna, many not typically considered as a food source but the developing situation was going to be entirely different than any I had faced in a long, long time. On the sixth day I was down to one dried ration, water was plentiful and easily obtainable but the food had gone as far as it would. I needed a new source and soon...
The immediate need to replenish my food stock weighed heavily on me and I could see starvation as a real possibility if I did not secure one soon. The solution was far simpler than I had realized; the giants. Their size and numbers were not only going to possibly be my downfall but perhaps my saving grace as well. I could use them as food...unappetizing as this seemed it was not only a viable source but a plentiful one as well. The amount of meat on a single leg or arm was more then enough, even after cooking. I would not have to clean the entire carcass...thank the gods.
Their bones and minimal clothing were enough to keep a small fire going in the back of the cave. I had water, fuel for the fire, food and I could continue to mine opals. (of which I had several bags of). The only thing I did not have was a way out, nor did I see having one in the foreseeable future.
By day twelve I was getting a bit stir-crazy, the constant cycle of attacking giants and mining was beginning to really wear me out. I had by now more than one hundred opals and was very ready to be anywhere but here. I needed some way to get that damned door open; I dug deep in my pack and put on my thinking cap... (good thing I still had it)
-
The magic in the standard thinking cap seems to hold its potency well over time and after several hours I came up with a plan...no... a gamble...no... not a gamble either, what I had come up with...? I'm not sure what it actually was.
My exit 'strategy' had a few rough edges to say the least and it was considerably more likely to fail than to actually be successful. I guess both ways I will be free of this confinement; success and I will be fighting my way free...failure and I will be spat from the void weak and disoriented. Freedom is the goal and both will have the same result... perhaps I should add an amendment to my plan; freedom AND survival...yeah I like that better...
The plan was not so much a clear-cut 'plan' so to speak...actually it was more of a rough guide. I had no step by step layout, no set series of events nor really a plan now that I think about it. I needed to get out that damned door and I was going to need the giants to do so; just how they were going to facilitate this was as of yet still unclear...
I repacked all my gear carefully in to my pack and test fit it to make sure it was all ready to go and began to put my 'plan' into action...
I moved from the small grotto I had been living in to the larger chamber by the door. One final check on my gear to tighten straps... (a third check on my chinstrap)...shake out a few muscles and kick a few loose stones from underfoot, I was as ready as I was going to get. The giants moved in shortly after...
They emerged from the gloom and made their way cautiously to where I had been holding out. I could see only two, perhaps they had become weary of losing so many and this was just a probing attack before a larger group stormed in while I was busy with the first two. They rushed in with much noise and bluster but I soon heard them quiet down as they tried to figure out what had happened; why had I not attacked them, where had I gone...what was going on. Giants are not the brightest candle on the table and seem to have a bit of trouble reacting to unanticipated events; it takes them a bit to get refocused. I could hear them wandering around grumbling to each other and I could just picture their faces with that stupid look of confused anger. No more had appeared to reinforce the first two; possibly these two had taken it upon themselves to improve their standing in the tribe by being the ones to get rid of me. These two were going to be my 'exit plan'...
It took several minutes for them to finally give up wandering around and move the search further along the cave, why they split up is beyond me...(I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth)... I had remained by the door and let them do what it was they were doing. The first; a big grey hulk with no nose lumbered out and headed in my direction swinging his ax casually as his head swayed back and forth. It took a surprisingly long time for this big lummox to actually notice me standing there waving at him like the village idiot...
When he finally did, it was on; he came at me at a run, with that big ax up over his head and his mouth wide open... (it was a really, really big mouth)...I waited for him to close and when he was there, I was on him like hair on a Dwarf. We battled it out for a bit and I tried to keep my eye out for the other to join in. I was finally able to dispatch him when he took a huge swing and missed bending low enough for me to drive the blade into his brain through the back of his head. One down one to go and I needed this one to get me through the door...I still had little idea of just how this was going to happen.
I did not have long to wait for the other to show up. He must have seen me about the same time I saw him; I was still standing on the back of the dead one, foot firmly planted on his head trying to retrieve my sword which was stuck fast in its head. I yanked enthusiastically on my sword, trying to free the weapon before the other was on me...
I was still trying to get that blade free and hoping against hope that I would be faster than that giant. I had little hope of beating a giant with just my shield; they are a tad bigger than trolls. There was lest than ten feet between me and that oncoming giant when the blade slid free with one final terror fueled yank...
Life is full of mysteries and I don't try to figure them out I just go with the flow, I mean why swim up stream?
As I yanked the blade free a great stream of blood was slung from the end and splashed right into the giants' eyes when I brought it around to bear. Temporarily blinded but unable to stop it's forward momentum it collided with the corpse of the first. I had not noticed in my fanatical efforts to free my weapon that the ax handle of the dead giant was sticking out from beneath the body. Colliding with the handle caused the blinded and terribly enraged giant to vault over not only the body but me as well. I threw myself flat on the body as the other sailed over my head and with a tremendous crash split the door right down the center, unable to believe my luck I laid there dumbfounded. I regained my senses and made quick work of the unconscious, possibly already dead giant... (never hurts to be sure)...I pried the door open using the ax as a lever and was gone, I was free...sort of...
After fourteen days I was out of my 'prison' but I still had to get through the rest of the caverns and any giants contained there in. I was feeling pretty good about this time and figured I'd have little trouble fighting my way clear to the surface. For once I was correct, my escape was hard fought but I managed to reach the forest alive. The sun; never so bright or painful nor so welcomed greeted my emergence. I lay in the grass for a long time just breathing the fresh air and feeling the warmth on my face...
I had misfortune and had overcome it, now it was off to Prantz to make my fortune. I still carried over one hundred opals...
-
After extricating myself from the caverns I still had much work to do, I had all those opals to cut and polish...
After buying a fortune in polish... (I think the shop keeper closed up for the day after I left)... it was off to the crafting house to make myself blind doing tediously detailed work. I enjoy working stones but the eye strain from such close work is murderous as is the pain in my fingers and wrists, with so many to cut and polish I feared I was in for a long night of headaches and hand cramps. Setting the heavy bags of raw stones on the table was a welcomed relief, after laying out my tools and polish I took a few minutes before I began chipping away on the first of many opals...
Such a delicate job takes more concentration than actual physical work and letting the mind wander tends to waste resources; one momentary loss of concentration tends to lead to poorly cut stones or missing fingernails. In my gathering days I could let my mind wander freely as I collected for contracts and found the time just slipped past with little notice...(twenty years to be exact)... but if I wandered off mentally while cutting the end result was poor quality and wasted materials. Keeping focused on the task at hand was a chore in itself and I had to break frequently to rest my eye or shake out cramped fingers.
Never before had I had such a large haul nor did I think I should again. Small batches can be cut and polished with ease but this monster load was going to really put a hurting on me. I hate to say I have the attention span of a Brownie...but I may be close.
Soooo many hours later I dropped the final stone, cut and polished in to the bag. My hands hurt so badly I don't think I could have dug a booger from my nose without crying...next time I think of filling bags with stones I need o remember the pain in my hands....
Unless they are diamonds....or emeralds....I could live with the pain.
-
It's the simple things in life...my arse.
Why can a man not simply enjoy an afternoon of fishing and why must the Gods intervene in the most peculiar ways? I could understand making the fish not bite, or making it rain kittens, or striking me with lightning...but why get others to do your bidding and just how planned was this whole event? Did the responsible entity plan it from beginning or just exacerbate an already declining situation, on more than one occasion I have had irate creatures "scraped" off on me by retreating groups or individuals...
Fishing has on several occasions nearly been my undoing but I do enjoy it so. The last time I fished here my camp was overrun and sacked by several giants, after being savagely assaulted by an oddly irate whit stag. Other than the destruction of the camp the only loss were several nice gems at the hands of the giants, the ransacking culminated with the unexpected detonation of a giant; although excellent in its entertainment value it was a bit messy in the end...
It was an absolutely stellar day for fishing; sunny with hardly a cloud in the sky, a light breeze that barely ripple the glass like surface of the lake, the water so clear the fish were easy to spot just below the surface and I thought I could see some of my lost stones sparkling in the depths. Plinking cats and pike never gets boring, the fight they put up is well worth the effort and hauling in a big cat never fails to put a smile on my face. The chance to fish such an amazing spot on such a day is worthy of a Bard's song in the least and if I could carry a tune I might just write one...
Why I should be denied a bit of relaxation on such a glorious day is beyond me but I do not claim to understand the fickle nature or the changing whims of the gods, I am but a finger puppet in the great puppet show of life. After my encounter with the stag and giants I should have been a bit more attentive but I had become lost in the fishing and again was caught with my pants down so to speak...
More than once I have had to combat that fat cow eating bird but never have I see it near the lake. Why it was there I could not guess, maybe it got tired of cows and fish seemed like a good idea at the time. Possibly it was tracking someone I had not see pass through the area. The why was of little consequence, it was the WHERE that was bothersome and the where was here...now. One of these days I will fish fully geared for combat but not this time, again I was armed with bow and a few dozen fishing arrows. For the briefest of moments I thought it might not see me and just go on its merry way but that was not to be and the thought had just crossed my mind when I was without a doubt spotted...
I wasted no time in engaging that fat turkey and it soon looked like a pin cushion but it kept coming. Ordinarily I'm not the best bowman anyhow but walking backwards in knee-deep water only weakened my lackluster bow skills further. I needed to get my sword, if I could do that this chicken would not stand a chance, only the 'chicken' was closer to me than I was to my sword...and getting closer...
I was not going to reach the weapon in time and all I could do was keep plugging away with my bow. It was no more than eight feet away when it lunged at me; I stumbled backward over a rock and just by dumb luck I released the arrow the same moment it opened it beak to get a bite. That damned arrow flew right into its open mouth and dropped him deader then hell out of the sky right on top of me. I was trapped under a few hundred pounds of feather coated meat in two feet of water. This thing just might kill me after all, not with beak and claw but by dead weight...quite literally.
Trapped underwater by this big dead bird I thought to my self; 'of all the ways to go...are you kidding me?...drowned by this stupid bird, give me a break'. While laying there thinking this was how I would go I noticed the mud beneath me was pretty soft and I fight be able to free myself if I took a page from the fish I had been plinking all day. I started flopping like a fish as best I could under the weight and found the mud was rapidly being pushed from under me. Soon I was free and safely on my feet again...
I can take a hint as well as the next guy and my things were soon packed. I do love fishing, it's such a nice distraction from the day to day life and death struggles....
-
Well today was a first...I was thrown in jail. Drunk and disorderly I believe, not my fault... really it wasn't...
A bit of back story might be in order... I met a rather 'interesting' woman not too long ago. I had been strolling innocently along the Hemp-Vehl road and saw a few familiar faces by the pond. Being the social butterfly I am I moseyed up to say hello to Trith and Muhk who seemed to be discussing something. I bid them greetings and was introduced to a woman named Raven. I don't think that is her given name (she later confirmed it was a nick name)...I'm still unsure of her actual name. Raven it seems is a fitting name, she is a bit dark and secretive and much like the bird has a fondness for shiny stuff... I asked her vocation and she replied that a jack of all trades covers it fairly well...fair enough. (what would I reply to a similar question?)...Sometime was spent conversing and making nice but I really wanted to go do something. Muhk had plans, Trith had crafting to do but Raven on the other hand was eager to make a run at the Bugbears. With just the two of us I would be a quick trip indeed...arrive at the island, die and turn up back at ones chosen stone. Not much of a trip I my book...With the idea of Bugbears not panning out to much more than our demise it was decided to head for the mountains and have a quick stop at the Dwarven Stronghold. What are a few Yetis, Ogres and Giants between new friends?
It went well and with little trouble we dispatched our intended target and were soon on our way back to Vehl. After our arrival we decided to stalk a few Giants up Wolfwoods way and soon we were aboard ship for that very destination. Raven wanted to collect pelts for Trith and as we were in that general area we gathered a few lion and panther for his crafting needs. Between battling Giants and collecting pelts we did a spot of fishing, she is quite good with a bow and with some practice I think will find fishing quite relaxing as I do. While resting up we had a chance to talk some and I found she has had quite a rough life but has little intention of actively seeking retribution...unless the chance just so happens to present its self. I find her to be quite interesting in both nature and actions; she carries scars as I do, both externally and internally. I think she could be quite a handful and possibly a deadly adversary if one was to find themselves on her bad side, looking over ones shoulder would do little as they were likely to be stabbed in the chest as they did so. I find I enjoy traveling with Raven more than most ladies I have met. I find most to be weighed down by some sort of issue, true she does have issues but they do not find their way into every facet of our travels...for which I am most thankful.
We parted company soon after as we each had things to attend to in separate directions...
I had spent a few days fishing and collecting pelts just for something to do. I was running low on fishing arrows and needed to replenish my supply in Mariners Hold. As I passed through Fort Homestead I could see a figure moving rapidly in my direction followed closely by a pride of lions. As the figure closed I could see not only was it Raven but that she had been badly mauled and was losing ground to the pursuing lions, she needed help and needed it now. I drew my weapon and dispatched the lions with all do haste. With the immediate threat of death removed she was able to rest and tend to her wounds. Our chance encounter had been fortunate for her as well as me; I was able to save her from the lions and her me from boredom that will almost always get me into trouble. She was still looking to get the head of the Bugbear and after a few birds we had a party ready to lend a hand in doing just that. We met them in Mariners Hold and I was surprised that everyone contacted showed up. It was quite a formidable force to be sure and the Bugbears had little chance to turn this group back. There was much talking, a bit of bickering, some posturing and a few whispers but eventually we moved out. I was almost immediately contacted for an emergency call for reinforcements and I had to bow out to attend to this message...
/////I crashed for several hours and did not make the run/////
I again returned to my fishing, I needed something to keep me out of trouble...Again low on arrows I made for Mariners and who should I run into but Raven...no pursuing Lions this time. I had collected several dozen pelts that I was able to transfer to her ox for later delivery to Triht. We stopped to do a bit of fishing in Stone; I had not been there before and was quite impressed with the amount of fish in the cold waters held. we fished a bit and talked of all sorts of things while plinking away with our bows...she's getting to be an excellent fisherman...err...woman....person...whatever, she plugs em pretty good. Needing a bit more action than the fish could provide we set out for Hemp figuring perhaps we could get a few warm bodies for some fun. Along the way we got word of a group setting out for Haven and it's infamous mine. Well what could be better then a run at the dogfaces...except maybe two runs at them. We were to meet the group in Haven so we made our way through the forest to arrive in Haven well before the rest of the group and this is how I landed in jail...
Just minding my own business and having a polite conversation with myself as Raven had run off to who knows where. She reappeared suddenly and out of nowhere to startle me a bit and produced a rather stout beverage she had obtained form someplace...sometimes its better not to know. I took a deep swallow and it was like I had swallowed a fire, I was surprised to find no smoke came out when I talked...the few words I was able to get out...
I have little recollection of the following series of events but I do remember snippets. I remember studying the grass rather closely, then being pulled along by me ear and finally then my cellmate Ben...strange fellow but what type of people does one expect to find incarcerated? It seems while I had been in the clink the rest of the group arrived to find me under arrest and not to keen on throwing my bail. Luckily Iellwen was there and was able to get me released into her care...good old Ell always saving me from myself. So with me paroled it was back to the business of the mine. I'm not so sure what happened but the there was some friction between Raven and another woman who left soon after Raven threw up at her feet and most of the group wandered off soon after as well. Ell did stick around, now apparently she's my parole officer... The new group was quite large and full of the most amazing personalities; Bruenor, Gloom, Sil, Elgon, Alatriel, Ell and Raven. What an adventure that was. Brue and Gloom are truly too odd for words and if you know them you know what I mean, if you don't know them...you will. I had a pretty good hangover to begin with and several good hits to the head helped little to make it easy to recall the entire action. I know I was in trouble several times and more than once had my butt saved by Sil, Ell and Elgon's healing skills. Our foray into the mines was a success, the head was returned and soon most had gone their separate ways...
The one thing I remember most were the two opposing forces of Ell and Raven...
Ell being the polite and soft-spoken lady she is; always on me about my language, or the inappropriate remarks I'm prone to making. I had no idea she could freeze fire with just a look...albeit a stern one. Reminds me a bit of my mother; a poke, a prod, a look or even simply saying my name was enough to put me back in line. It seems Ell has channeled my mom...swell.
Raven on the other hand...Gets me drunk, thrown in jail, talks like a sailor, is generally the anti-Ell and good gods is she one hellova goodtime...
The head returned and still looking for more Ell, Raven and I decided on a bit of Forest Giant hunting. Gloom soon joined and we were off to the forests around Prantz. We met a small band coming out of the wood and we stopped to talk. There was a Kobald with what I can best describe as a crush on Ell and it soon became Ell AND Raven... (I will say at least it had good taste)... It was rather funny to watch him working on the two. It was a good trip...Ell again saved my butt; I was stuck between three Giants and just getting pasted. I had resigned myself to the fact I was going to die but I would go down swinging...and then Ell appeared! Bing, bam, boom and I was back in the fight. She is without a doubt worth twice her weight in gold, which is probably close to what I owe her in gold for saving me so often and without complaint. This was also a successful raid and we were out in the clear air of the forest once again, where I said my farewells and wished them luck as I departed...
(Traveling with Raven and Ell is quite interesting to say the least...
I wish there were two of me, one for each of them. When Ells is too goody-goody she could swap with Raven to bring it back into balance and when Ravens is too disorderly she gives it to Ell for the same...
Running amok with these two ladies is extremely entertaining and I look forward to many more adventures with one or both whenever the opportunity presents it's self.)
-
After my brief incarceration at the surprisingly strong hands of Warrant Officer Kit in Haven I believed my involvement with the law was at an end...alas it was not to be so.
Muhk and I were discussing some business at the Haven pond, the exact nature of our discussion I do not recall. I do however remember ribbing him on the size of his horse and something about not knowing the horse trader also sold goats...
Over his shoulder I noticed one of 'Hemp's finest' acting a bit peculiar. He seemed to be wandering around a bit and I figured he might be looking for a good tree to shield him from view as he took care of some business of his own. As time went on I deduced he was not in fact looking for a spot to pee and things may be happening that warranted a bit of investigation. So being the naturally curious fool I am we moved a bit closer to have a look-see...
At this point I should not be surprised that things went downhill rapidly as they tend to do with me. Our wandering gate guard ceased his wandering and made a beeline of both Muhk and myself as we stood watching on the road. His arrival was marked by some very rude comments to Muhk about his Orc blood and the associated stench followed by some rather poor excuses for insults directed at myself. Muhk was directed to leave 'the area' in accordance with the posted regulations of Hemp. We pointed out the fact that the regulation states that entry is forbidden, not use of the roads. The conversation went on like this for quite sometime and eventually more guards showed up as a show of force. With five more of 'Hemps finest' now standing behind the first seemed a bit excessive for the two of us and smacked of trouble. I tried many times to get Muhk to walk away and forget it, I even had him moving a few times but each time the guards would say something about him and he would stop again. This continued for awhile and I figured it would end peacefully...
Well I again was proven wrong in my calculations of the situation. The verbal sparring continued and suddenly Muhk was being attacked by the six guards. What sparked the escalation of force I do not know but until then it had all been verbal. Now the metal was flying and six on one is pretty good odds for Muhk but seeing as we were on the road and not at the gates or in the city I found that unacceptable. Wearing nothing but my traveling coat I drew my shield and weapon as trying to drag a brawling half Orc from six city guards' unarmed seemed stupid even for me. My attempt to remove Muhk was short-lived and within seconds of my attempt I was flat on my back with two guards on me like Dwarves on ale. With two very well placed strikes...I have to give them credit on their hammer placement... It happened so fast I had time to get one word out, "Hey!" was all I could utter.
Soon after Cap'n Trent arrived and informed Muhk he was responsible for the deaths of two guards...
Cap'n grabbed Muhk's arm and Muhk told him not to be grabbing on him and if he continued to do so he would remove the Cap'ns head, well Cap made another attempt to grab Muhks arm. Muhk went for his ax but the Cap'n was too fast for him and swept out his legs and Muhk went down. Cap'n was on him even faster then his men were on me...and off to the clink went Muhk...
So Muhk and I went from standing on the road conducting business to an altercation with six 'Pinks'. Least I'm not in jail too...for what I could not even guess but when you're the law you get to MAKE the law, must be nice...
Well Muhk's trial is coming up soon and I'll be there unless I'm dead and then I'll be just a little late.
Be interesting to see what happens...I can see a uprising in the near future if Muhk is found guilty for what ever it is they are putting him on trial for...have to see how Hemp fares when the Half-Giants, Half-Orcs and the rest of the 'undesirables' form up for a fight. What if they decide that Vehl is closed to all but them...could start some kind of race war. Not sure the world needs that, we just got the sun back.....
-
Well now...oddly quiet even with the recent events.
Muhk being in prison as he is, that must be fun for any turnkey within earshot. I can just imagine the ruckus he's raising in there and the amount of food they must go through to keep him from eating the stonework...wonder if it comes in by cart?
Benn keeping my distance for the most part...this whole thing has raised some hackles and just seems to be getting bigger...
I will speak if instructed to do so at Muhk's trial but I of course will be in attendance. I am curious and concerned to see what direction the trial takes and with the worst possible outcome being a death sentence, what ramifications such a sentence would carry...and not just for Muhk that being obvious...
I hope Muhk comes out of this ok. I know many see him as an annoyance, a brute, or even as 'the criminal type'...That he very well maybe...No one can say what Muhk is, I don't think even he truly knows. I know him as a stalwart companion who has never left me in battle and many times accompanied me to the void rather than run from the struggle...He likes his coins, he drives a hard bargain, he gets in your face, he tells you where you can go if you disagree with him and he might even help you get there.
Muhk is Muhk and a Leopard can't change his spots...
-
I know it is probably not the case but since Muhk's incarceration I seem to be having difficulty finding anyone to do a bit of adventuring with. I see plenty of people out and about but I just...just...well I don't know. I've not seen Raven or Ell for quite awhile and that seems to be bothering me more than it should.
I have seen Caer and Amanda about as I often do but I always feel like I'm intruding. I feel like horse number three in a two horse show. Not that they have ever said anything or probably ever would...but nonetheless.
Where am I going to find a large and smelly compainon with a foul temper, who is shockingly uncouth, completely unrestrained, extremely ill-mannered, likes brawling, biting and spitting, who is completely un-housebroken, an astonishingly deep pit when it comes to food with a certian amount of moral flexibilitiy, who likes to wander and who says little?
So I bought a horse, maybe I can teach it to spit...?
-
Got the chance to vist Muhk...
He looks pretty good and the cell seems to have suffered little. As for the guards I can only begin to guess what they have been going through with one such as Muhk in residence...I wish I could say I fell pity for them....but I don't, so I won't. Infact I had a hard time keeping a civil toung in my mouth while we were there.
Although he did'nt say anything I doubt for a second thet he does not know what is going to come from this...'hearing'. I am under no illusions that anything justice like will come from it. I am certian it will be little more than a "dog and pony show" to allow those in charge to say "we had a fair hearing and he was found guilty..." No trial...just on to the hearing; you're guilty..and here is your punishment.
How could there be true justice? Justice is about balance...and if this hearing is not to find that balance but only assign blame and punishment than how can it be justice? I feel the balance has already been maintained...they attacked us...they died...the books look pretty balanced to me.
Mistakes were made on both sides...now one side continues to make the same mistake of pushing those inclined to push back. You can push the lawful around, those of less stringent moral fiber?...we'll just have to wait and see what happens....
-
I woke this morning bathed in sweat from an unsettling dream...
Bad dreams should be no surprise and I should suffer many more than I have. The ambush of my youth, the 'Vymetal affair' and scores of other things that should keep me awake at night but don't...
I dreamed of smoke and fighting...
At the gates of Hempstead stood an army; Half-Giants, Half-Orcs, Goblins, Kobolds, Humans, Elves and Dwarves. When hailed to bring the name of their General the reply was given. "We are legion...for we are many."
As I stood on the wall braced for the fight a voice boomed up from the ranks, a familiar voice...my voice. Called up to me were four simple words "Where will you stand?"
I already stood on the wall; I had friends along the wall. Tegan stood less then twenty feet away with fire dancing in her hands, Caerwyn with bow ready stood next to Amanda, I could see Iellwyn further down as well. There were many I have traveled with, spilled blood with and all stood along that wall...
Then I stood in ranks looking up at the walls. Here too I stood among friends; Gloom shifted from foot to foot two ranks ahead. Off to my left Warsinger wiped his hands on the Half-Giant ahead of him. Farther along the rank I stood in was Volga who stood with his finger jammed up his nose, searching for that elusive booger he seems to be always searching for. I could see Raven quietly looking down the shafts of her arrows, her scared face half hidden by her shoulder as she looked at the sky down the shaft of the arrow in her hand. Arkenon muttered wordlessly as he prepared, his great furs a calming shade of blue in the sunlight. I heard a well-known snort and looked to see Muhk leaning out from our rank, helmet-less and grinning that big toothy grin of his at me.... I removed my helmet to give him a smile back but when I looked again he was gone...
Smoke caused my eye to water and the acrid taste was in my mouth. I could see burning embers floating along on the wind but there was no sound. Figures flitted through the smoke and as it cleared I could see the battle that raged just beyond its edge...
Friends fighting friends, such a terrible sight to behold...
Familiar faces fighting and killing other's they had stood should to shoulder with before. I watched as Tegan let fly with her spell that engulfed Gloom in fire; burning and shrieking soundlessly he continued to attack as the flames danced on his flesh. Warsinger sat cross-legged looking confusedly at the stump where his arm had been. Amanda was dragging a limp Caeryn by the shoulders, tears streaming down her face. Using what appeared to be a dead Kobold as a weapon I saw Volga with at least a dozen arrows in him battling on, his door sized shield held dozens more. In the midst of all this I remember wonderering to myself just how he had lost his ax and acquired that Kobold? A great pressure in my head caused me to look up and on the wall I could see Ell perched on the edge casting in to the throng of combatants, arrows sliced by so close that her clothes had been shredded and blew in strips out behind her. Following the storm of arrows to their source I found Raven, working her bow so fast I could hardly see her hands as she was so intent on picking Ell from the wall...
A hand spun me around and I was lifted off my feet by the throat. Muhk had come; just as he always did and just as I knew he must. It was inevetable that I would face him, I knew this would come...how could it not?
Over his shoulder I could see me...I was fighting behind him, keeping his back clear as I had done so many times before, holding his back to free him to do what he does best. Hanging helplessly at the end of his arm in the middle of this silent battle of friends I could hear one thing...the words that drifted up to me on the wall. This time they did not drift, they were bellowed into my face as Muhk had changed into me. This other Balthazar was screaming "Where will you stand!" as he plunged a dagger through the vision slot of my helm....
I woke screaming, drenched in sweat and feeling like I needed to be sick...the words still pounding in my ears... "Where will you stand?"....
Where would I stand...
With my friends against my friends or against my friends with my friends...
-
I was unable to sleep last night and I wandered the streets of Hemp for several hours. I had no particular destination in mind and went where my feet took me.
The streets were eerily quite and the air itself seemed heavy and expectant. It was as if the city itself if it were waiting with its breath held for something to happen. I was not the only one to notice as both Polly and Tuggs commented on it... 'Calm before the storm' came to mind. I'm not sure that is accurate but there is defiantly something on the wind. We'll just have to wait and see what blows in...
Tuggs and I talked for a time about him being the most unobservant, sharp-eyed joker in town. He can spot traps a league away with ease but missed some very telling signs that if any closer would have been in his shirt. That's the way we are as men...we think with our stomachs and only see with our eyes...or eye in some cases...
Hindsight is 20-20...what if you only have one eye...
-
Muhk is still incarcerated and I continue to wander without any real direction...
I have had some fine outings lately; stormed through the mountain passes with its rock tossing giants, took the head of the lizard leader and presented it as requested, made an incursion on the forest giants camp and on into the cave for some opals, wandered the desert for a few days, stalked the Sinister Forest and the Ore Hills (carrying seven hundred pounds of ore for Sein), all with good companions; I count myself lucky to have these good friends and companions. I have had the good fortune to have Ell, Caer and Amanda on all of my latest adventures. They are as excellent in the attack as they are in the defense, and I know I can count on these three to get me out of trouble faster than I got into it. To have such friends is truly a gift...
-
I have lost count of how many times I have returned to chronicling in these pages after a long spell of non-documentation. A smart man would have left dates with any entry he made, I have been called many things but that is not one of them.
I did discover another Troll-provided product that has proven itself useful. After dusting off this book and settling in to do a bit of inking I found all my ink had dried up, I was left with nothing but tiny bottles of pretty colored powders. Water would have been just dandy to reconstitute the ink but I got to wondering about its longevity and the possible damage the water-based ink might cause. I know scrolls are scribed using egg but I can't even look at eggs anymore, let alone carry them around in my pack. I'd just assume hand a sack full of my 'Improved Fire/Fragmentation Bombs' to a pie-inebriated Brownie in a hammer factory. The water question and the no-question about egg left me in a bit of a quandary and once again those big bumbling Trolls came through in fine fashion. I really need to move them up on the most useful creatures in the land list, tasty AND now even more useful! I wonder about the possibility of domestication... (Would have to circumvent their tendency towards violence, stampeding cows and insane chickens are one thing. Insane and stampeding Trolls is another entirely, I can see trouble with neighbors arising quickly. Cows kick and chickens do whatever it is they do but neither is likely to wear your skin as a hat, unlike Trolls)...
My latest discovery... Troll urine. I'm not going into just how I came to this conclusion or how I acquired the aforementioned component but if you have read any of these pages then you will know that things just "tend to happen". Troll urine is oddly lacking in smell, much to my surprise and contrary to the source from which it springs. Slightly thicker than water and available in several shades ranging from clear to deep orange; the color does not seem to affect the ink except for perhaps white ink, is there white ink? A small note of caution; it should be kept away from an open flame for at least an hour, my eye brow will grow back...it always does.
Who would think that a seemingly useless creature was such a well of usefulness? The rendered fat keeps my armor from rusting solid and relatively squeak free, it does however have a bit of a stink to it. The head-cheese alone makes the trouble and resulting mess of dealing with them worthwhile. If boiled the eyes are quite good and I have for many years substituted them for boiled eggs but they are even better in stews... (just keep it quiet or I'll never have dinner guests!)... Properly cured and suitably softened the skins make excellent garments; I have in fact retired my Giant-skin traveling jacket for a new and much better Troll material. The water-repelling ability alone more than makes up for the fact that hair continues to grow from the garment for a rather lengthy period of time (I only have to shave the coat once a month now). The hair however is of little use; I wove a rough blanket out of it but it was like sleeping in a thorn bush and smelled like a bear had just...(well you know what they do in the woods) in the bush.
The amount of 'meat' is not as large as say a Giant but for the un-experienced it can be a daunting task to properly clean and separate the carcass before it draws other opportunistic feeders. A properly motivated individual can with a bit of practice fell the Troll and strip the carcass in 2-4 hours, unlike Giants which really need a group to properly process... (all this is discussed in earlier notes)...Nothing worse then being knee-deep in Troll when something with a equally bad attitude and an empty belly strolls out of the trees. Meat preparation can be conducted in several ways, some better than others. Smoking and stews are my personal preferences. The meat smokes easily and can be done as any fish, cutting the meat thin like a fish fillet makes for the best portion size, takes the smoke better and reduces the gameness. Once smoked it may be stored for months if kept dry and can be reconstituted in a stew or gruel if boiled. As for stewing either smoked or un-smoked meat may be used, I would suggest stewing un-smoked meat first before it tries to crawl away. The smoked meat stays put. Who can tell what's in a stew anyhow so get creative...
Life goes on weather you are there to see it or not and returning from a long ramble is a mixed bag of pleasant surprises (marriages and births...not necessarily in that order) and regrets. People have come and people have gone friends have vanished without trace while others have achieved immortality through duty or deed. Old haunts are full of new faces and the few I recognize have new comrades and ambitions. I'm too old and too set in my ways to fit in much of anywhere these days perhaps that is for the best. There are places I do remember, though some have changed, some forever, not for better...
Perhaps I will pick up my adventuring again. Finding a new group or reacquainting myself with old companions? Maybe a little of both...Making friends is not one of my strongest suits and a nice lady once said that perhaps I am missing a filter between my brain and my mouth. How should I know, she's much smarter than I will ever be so I'll just have to take her word on it. I do like my solitude, free of any drama or squabbling over loot and tactics I can go where the wind blows me. I guess I am a curmudgeon and that's why I dislike what was once explained to me as "group dynamics" BAH! I find it difficult to listen to self-important children bicker over the simplest of plans, go unprepared into battle or are too sensitive to do what is required...
'Over prepared is never Overwhelmed' ... you can chisel THAT on my headstone.