Excerpts from the journal of Arkolio de'Averlain

[Pseudonym]

// Copy of letter to Jaleel.

Jaleel,

A word of warning. When you choose friends and enemies in this life, consider carefully the friends of those you choose to name as foe.

Some of us will not feel the necessity of restricting the thrust of our blade to within the confines of an arena.

As I stated, consider these words very carefully when next you speak to Muireann.

signed,
Arkolio de'Averlain

[Pseudonym]

Two things of note to report from the last couple of days.

I finally recovered the Oil of Vukas for Juanita the horse trader from where she lost it in the Grey Peaks. I accompanied a group of like-minded adventurers from in and around Hlint including Tarradon Duvall, my sister Charlotte - why were they together when I arrived? hmmmm- Grulwz, Jake Saltpetre and a likeable enough dwarf named Alokki. I had heard from various sources that I would find it difficult to retrieve this oil for Juanita as she lost it deep in lands infested by various ogre tribes. I don’t know if we were just lucky or our skills have developed to a point where we have become . . . formidable, but regardless of which, the ogres we encountered fell like so much wheat before our scythes. I survived the entire trip without so much as a scratch! The worst incident I had was I chipped a tooth on some corn bread I had found on one of the ogres bodies . . . serves me right.

The whole trip, over within a couple of days, was very profitable. Between the reward and what I looted off the ogre corpses, I added about 1,500 gold coins to my bank balance! The other good thing about this venture is it gave me some time and perspective to think about the Muir . . . situation.

My grandmother used to tell me story when I was a little boy. The story involved a little boy who used to look after a rich merchant’s flock of sheep. One day the rich merchant invited the little shepherd boy inside his grand manor home. This was very exciting for the boy for though he had worked for the merchant for many years he had never seen inside the man’s home and it was reputed to be filled with wondrous treasures gathered from the far flung corners of the world. The rich merchant allowed the little boy to look through his house of treasures but his permission to do so came with one condition. He gave the boy a chicken egg to carry on the end of a silver spoon as walked around the house with the instruction that he must not drop the egg at all costs. Eager to impress the great and wealthy merchant the shepherd boy made his way around the house, concentrating very carefully on not letting the egg fall from it’s precarious position on the spoon. After several hours the merchant found the shepherd standing in the great hall of his home, the egg intact on the end of the spoon. The boy had not let it fall during his journey through the house. The merchant asked the boy, ‘What did you think of my house? What about the great treasures I have on display in my home?’ The shepherd boy answered, ‘Sir, I did not see any of these treasures, I was concentrating on not letting the egg fall from the spoon.’

My (long-winded) point? During my excursion to the Grey Peaks I realised I was the shepherd boy. I was concentrating so intently on my goal of winning the heart of Muireann I was blind to the treasures before me.

Maybe she didn’t love me now? Maybe she never would.
Did that change the fact that she was beautiful?
Did it change that she chose to spend time with me?
Did it change the fact that I enjoyed the time I spent with her?
When had I turned into such a worrier that I could not tear my eyes away from some elusive goal and not just enjoy the here and now?

We may end up together for a long time. We may part company tomorrow. Who knows?

I found Muireann in the temple of Mist in Leilon - I really need to buy a warm coat! - she was beautiful and here before me and it confirmed my realisation. I spoke to her at length and it was . . . good. We reached an understanding. Where it goes from here, who can say?

I will not worry and I will enjoy all the treasures I see in the great house as I journey through. If I ‘drop the egg’, so be it.

// With apologies to Paolo Coelho!!

[Pseudonym]

Again, a couple of things of note from the last few days.

Some few weeks ago, whilst talking with Muir, she told me of the destruction of the village in which she was born and raised. In the raid her parents were both slain and her sister now missing, possibly murdered, more probably sold into slavery. Muir told me that her Church was conducting investigations and, at the time, I offered to Muir that I could make some enquiries through various sources of my own. When one chooses to lead a . . .shady life . . . one of the benefits is that one tends to make acquaintance all sorts of people who make it their business to know the business of others - reputable or . . . otherwise. I put out the feelers amongst some contacts and spread a little gold to get the wheels turning.

Then, as occasionally happens to those blessed with towering intellects, I had a brilliant idea. On several occasions I have had opportunity to travel with a paladin by the name of Tarradon Duvall. As a general rule, I normally don’t have a lot of time for paladins, however this one is . . . not too boorish. I did grow up with Haugrim, the original Mr Preachy himself after all - I have built up a tolerance over time! Anyway, often I have travelled the wild lands around Mistone in the company of my brother and sister and Tarradon has joined us. He is a proficient bladesman and I have always welcomed another body between my foes and myself in any battle - so he has been welcome each time! On our travels I have noticed a certain . . . fondness developing between Charlotte and Tarradon . . . nothing untowards but often I will see them sharing a secret smile. That’s the good thing about having a paladin interested in your sister - (a) he won’t touch her before there’s a ring on her finger, and (b) no-one else will touch her while he’s around!

So, my brilliant idea is this - I hinted to Tarradon that Charlotte is heavily influenced by what I have to tell her and things could go better for him if he was to help me out with some investigations into the disappearance of Muir’s sister - a win-win situation for all. Between his amusingly furious blushing attacks,  he agreed to make some enquiries into the matter through his Church contacts. Now there was not only the Church of Mist investigating and my own somewhat less repuatble network, but also the Church of Roirein! Am I the first genius in history to get these two faiths working towards the same goal!!? I am, just a little, impressed at my own cleverness! In return for his investigations, Tarradon also required me to perform some ‘good deeds’ with him in addition to speaking to Charlotte, so we spent the rest of the day ferreting out various bandit nests and lairs of nasties that plagued the common folk . . . I personally think if they are stupid enough to grub out an existence on a farm their entire lives, they deserve little better. However, if that was part of the price to pay, so be it.

The other matter of note is  . . . Jaleel. I may have made an enemy there. I wrote a letter when I was in a temper (and had had a little bit too much ale to drink I might add) and he seems unwilling to let it pass . . . Muir and Jaleel seem to have reached some sort of truce or arrangement but Jaleel seems not quite so ambivalent towards yours truly. Today he threatened me and informed me it would bring him no pleasure to inform my brother and sister the news of my death at his blades. I almost laughed in his face. The fool. Does he not realise I am a thief, a liar, a cheat, a bully , a rogue and I do not fight fair. I prefer to engage my challenges as my opponent blissfully slumbers! Jaleel would never even wake to draw his blades . . . When someone picks a fight with Arkolio de’Averlain it won’t be an honourable arena battle with the best swordsman the victor. Also, someone doesn’t fight just one child of Averlain, it doesn’t work that way. If you swing a blow at one of us, you’d better be prepared to receive three blows in return. If Jaleel and I ever do ‘battle’, it might not even be my poisoned dagger that takes his life - equal chance it will be the sword of Charlotte or the mace of Haugrim. Maybe even the holy blade of Tarradon Duvall if Charlotte gets dragged into a conflict! Sad part of all this is I don’t even mind Jaleel. The fellow and I used to get on quite well. What does one do? I fear it is maybe too late to resolve this with mere words . . .

Well, that has been my last few days. My last few nights? They have been filled with hours of bliss with Muir . . .

[Pseudonym]

Rather mundane entry today. Usual stories of slaying monsters, accumulating wealth and just generally saving the day for one and all.

One... interesting point I suppose. I happened to meet a fellow by the name of Kiva yesterday by Lake Palden. I'd never met him before but Jaleel had told me once before that he was one of Muir's ex-partners. With my newfound perspective on my . . . relationship with Muir, I was willing to speak to the man in a civil manner and be as pleasant as could be. He verbally attacked me, threatened for me to stay away from Muir and drew his blades when I told him to mind his own business. He certainly didn't have a very high opinion of me and my intentions with Muireann. Now where could he have garnered such an opinion? Only one possible source. Which begs the question, why is she painting such a negative picture of me to a former flame? Hmmmmmmm.

[Pseudonym]

** Journal filled with drunken, illegible scrawl. Only here and there can a reader make out any words.

Muir . . .
Kiva . . .

. . . and at the bottom of the wine soaked page, underlined twice and written twice as large as any of the other text,

LIAR

[Pseudonym]

Well, amazing what a difference a couple of weeks can have on the direction of one’s life . . .

Where to start?

Adventuring? Plenty of it. I have had lots of time on my hands for a hundred and one assorted quests, adventures, forays and explorations. I’ve mined topaz after slaying ogres, travelled the length and breadth of the Berhagen Mountains, crossed the Blood Desert a couple of times, sailed the high seas, collected venom sacks from spiders in the dire woods and battled lizard men in the aptly named fens. I’ve fought alongside wizards, paladins, priests, half-giant druids, elven archers, dwarven berserkers and brownie sorcerors. I’ve collected a king’s ransom in gold and jewels - more money than a year ago I would have ventured existed in all Rilara! I’ve done so many things since Muireann and I permanently parted company . . . actually, perhaps I should have started with the Muir story first.

There is the long version of this story and the short version. Frankly, I am only motivated to pen the abbreviated tale.

Arkolio wants Muireann.
Muireann wants Kiva.
Kiva wants Tegan.
I think I may be the only one missing out in this chain unless Tegan (whom I’ve never even met) secretly wants me.

From Muir’s own lips have I heard the words that if Kiva calls to her, she will come. Simple as that. She tells me that she doesn’t think it likely he will do so, thus why should I care? . . . as if that is relevant at all. I am to put my life, my heart, my everything on hold subject to the whim of another man? How can I be with a woman who would rather be with someone else? This is not even bringing into the equation her feelings for the one named Ardal - a man whose name and place I have had to hear from others.

Am I bitter? Not at all. Muireann has taught me a very, very valuable lesson.

Friendship is for the weak.
Emotion for the misguided.
Fidelity for the foolish.
There will be no place for love in the heart of Arkolio de’Averlain.

[Pseudonym]

What was I saying last time? What a difference a couple of weeks can have on the direction of one’s life . . .

Where to start again?

Adventuring?
Have had my fair share, again with an assortment of individuals from in and around Mistone. Have spent quite a bit of time with Jaleel and Roy - both of whom are often about town when I find myself in Hlint. Both are accomplished fighters and when we travel together, not too many beasties can cause us a whole lot of grief. One . . . unpleasant experience we did have however the other day involved a fairly routine trip to the Broken Forest to help Jaleel clear out some orc bandits that had taken root there. After we had done this task, again without too much mishap, we happened upon a cave entrance which we conjectured might have provided a base of operations for the orcs. Venturing inside we did not encounter any more orcs but instead a host of diseased rats, a plague of oozes and jellies and puddings, and finally, but by no measure least of which, a wyrm. I cannot remember it’s colour - I only saw a hint of darkness rushing towards me before I found myself walking the void road again.  A valuable lesson learnt about my own over-confidence and, perhaps just as importantly, that of others.

A similar mishap nearly occurred yesterday in the Grey Peaks fighting some ogres. Another trip to the void was narrowly avoided as I decided discretion was the better part of valor and ran from a melee which had deteriorated for our group quite suddenly. My skulking skills came in very handy. Sticking to the shadows, I snuck past a host of ogres all the way back to Fort Llast without incident. I didn’t even have to share the take as I was looting and everyone else who was there did not possess my knack for hiding and thus perished in a most grisly manner!

Muir?
We have seen a bit of each other recently. She is impossible to avoid really possessing an uncanny talent for turning up wherever I may be. Not that I really mind. Since my . . . epiphany regarding the true nature of love, it has actually been somewhat more relaxed and pleasant to spend time in her company. We have warmed each other’s beds a few times this week, travelled together, fought together and, as to what she does when I am not there, I no longer care.
A few days ago, standing in Hlint, contemplating a journey to Hampshire with Roy I witnessed Muir asking Roy if he would lay down his life to protect hers . . . what a question for her, of all people, to ask someone. I almost slapped her face right then and there, the hypocrite. Again, I must thank her. A month ago if she asked me the same question, like Roy, I would have answered yes, I would. She’d receive a very different answer now. Her choice.

[Pseudonym]

Things are going pretty well with Muireann. It’s kind of funny. For the last few weeks, since she made her feelings clear about the state of our relationship, things have been better. I continue to get ‘mixed signals’ from her as to her wants and desires, but since I have officially given up worrying about it, her, the future, whatever; we, together, have generally been happier in each other’s company. She constantly tells me that she doesn’t know whether it is in her ... make up? soul? to love anyone at all. Often it seems she is convincing herself about this as much as me.

An interesting story to tell. Well, a run-in really.

Kiva. Where to start? He’s arrogant and obnoxious. He thinks he’s all that, but to the great majority of people who know him, he isn’t really much at all. Earlier today, in the main street of Hlint, he kept pushing and pushing, wanting me to challenge him to an arena combat. As i’ve said - that’s not how I fight. Toe to toe? Kiva would cut me to ribbons. Yet today it seemed I was being pushed into a corner, in front of Muireann no less, and would have no choice but to fight Kiva. He is intolerable. His thinly veiled threat to ‘deal with’ Muir after he had dealt with me in the arena was the last straw ... a fight was inevitable. A fair fight that I had to admit I had very little chance of winning.

And then, like a little ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, help arrived. Jaleel and Tarradon came out of the Wild Surge Inn only twenty feet or so away from where I was about to accept Kiva’s challenge ...  and from there it was a reasonably simple matter to draw them into the argument. Jaleel was all too easy - he hates Kiva more than me and was already spoiling for a fight. Tarradon was a little more complicated and needed just a bit more . . . massaging? manipulation? to involve him in the dispute. I hinted that Kiva had threatened Muir and myself and drawn blades without provocation, threatening violence against our persons for no reason. I could see Jaleel’s hands caressing his sword hilts in anticipation. Unfortunately, I couldn’t quite persuade Tarradon into challenging Kiva in the arena - although I think he got close at one point. Kiva’s manner with humans, whom he openly admits to thinking that we are an inferior race rubbed Tarradon up the wrong way immediately. It amuses me that paladins can’t abide arrogance in others but are blind to their own. Anyway, the ‘situation’ eventually was diffused without bloodshed. A shame - it would have been almost as satisfying to see Kiva dead by either Jaleel’s hand or Tarradon’s as much as by my own.

I have written up a list of Kiva’s faults and am considering posting it on the Wild Surge’s notice board.

Kiva is prone to belly button fluff.
Kiva is not very bright and not very pretty.
Kiva is a liar and a cheat.
Kiva has poor standards of hygiene and homicidal tendencies.
Kiva looks in the mirror too much.
Kiva thinks he’s really popular, think all the girls want him...he's wrong.
Kiva eats with his hands.
Kiva has bad breath.
Kiva has a stupid name.
Kiva can't sing or dance.
Kiva has eyes that are too close together.
Kiva will pay for women.
Kiva tries to fit in - bur never does.
Kiva fancies himself.
Kiva needs constant mothering and reassurance.
Kiva wears silky women's underwear beneath his clothes.
Kiva is pompous and overbearing.
Kiva used to be a wooden boy.
Kiva can't play ball sports very well.
Kiva wonders why no-one will shake hands with him.
Kiva is often seen in a dirty raincoat.
Kiva tries hard... but succeeds rarely.
Kiva can't handle his beer, smells of mayonnaise
Kiva thinks that he's all that he says he is.
Kiva goes to the toilet twice a night, doesn't always get up for it.
Kiva always has a bit of his last meal displayed on his clothes.
Kiva wears cheap and loud clothes.
Kiva is a good person to talk to when you have a problem - his is worse.
Kiva wants to be in a boy band but he's not pretty enough.
Kiva only goes out with Tegan so that he can steal her clothes.
Kiva thinks he's tough and proves it with young girls and boys.
Kiva picks his nose, a lot.
Kiva laughs like a demented dog.
Kiva sometimes forgets to bathe.
Kiva wants to be 'exotic', but only manages to be 'strange'.
Kiva looks better with the torches doused.
Kiva wears clothes 2 sizes too small.
Kiva wears a lot of make up.
Kiva sleeps with a teddy-bear.
Kiva wears odd socks.
Kiva giggles excessively in a high pitched tone.
Kiva likes gherkins and sympathises with harpies.
Kiva hangs around with old blokes and let's them buy him stuff.
Kiva is prone to sulking.
Kiva wears a wig.
Kiva was a teenage groom.
Kiva wears white stilettos, dances round his handbag at the Wild Surge Inn.

[Pseudonym]

A little while since my last entry - nothing much happening that seems journal worthy . . .

I have participated in adventures and quests here and there, some only moderately successful, some very much so. A trip into the Berhagens netted another small fortune in gold and various items. I've met some new and reasonably interesting people - Karana, Quilus, Jin, various others. All seemed like reasonably decent folk. Haven't seen Muir in a few days, haven't seen Charlotte or Haugrim in a few weeks.

Just a quick note about a snippit of a conversation that made me laugh - i'll try to record it to the best of my recollection;

Karana (on describing the fall of Pranzis) - "Karana fought like a champion that day"
Arkolio - "Did Karana just refer to herself in the third person?"
Jin - "Jin thinks that Karana did"

[Pseudonym]

Today I heard a merchant in Port Hampshire ask for one hundred ‘trues’ from a customer. I’ve heard this expression before for gold coins but the thought lingered with me today for some reason. Trues. A funny name for coins but I think it would be impossible to come up with a more appropriate one. What is truth? Truth is a matter of opinion and perspective. Truth for one individual can be quite different for another. What is a true statement? The sky is blue? Is that true? For me that statement might be true now but for someone on the other side of Layonara, at that very same moment, my true staement would be false. For them, the sky is black. There was a girl who used to live on the farm next to ours when I was a boy who was unable to see colours. My statement was not true for her either. Is there a universal truth? Religion? God? I laugh at the notion of a true God or Goddess. The Gods are pettier than the foolish mortals who give them worship.

To me, my truth, the one and only real truth is gold. It is mother, father, lover, provider. It make friends of enemies and enemies of friends. It buys all emotions, love, hate and everything in between. It is power, It is the difference between life and death. It transcends religion, race, sex, all boundaries become irrelevant.

It is the one and only truth.

[Pseudonym]

My life would be immensely simple . . . if not for women. Well, simpler anyway.

Part of me longs for my previous ‘existence’ where every woman I met was but a potential conquest. One night, or two nights at the very most if she was something extraordinary, and I would be on my way. No hassles, no emotion, no goodbyes, no problems.

And then came Muireann.

With her by my side, everything can be wonderful. There is laughter, warmth, fellowship, romance . . . love? Well, maybe there is strong  ‘like’ at the least!

Other times . . . arguments, worrying, bickering, uncertainty and deceit. She challenges me and infuriates me. She is unyielding, stubborn, demanding, hypocritical. I start to wonder sometimes if she is mortal at all or more likely the incarnated avatar of Mist herself come to make my life a misery for some perceived sacrilege or blasphemy.

Then, again, I will think, would I want Muir any other way?

[Pseudonym]

Had a quick 'jaunt' to Hurm to earn some gold in a dispute between rival pirate factions. To be truthful, i'm not even sure who or what the different factions were, what they represented or why they were against each other. I wasn't really interested in the whos and whys. One faction was paying more than the other and thus my allegiances were pretty clear.

Also signing up as part of the pirate crew were some people that I had met previously and some new faces as well. Lin'da - an impressive elven wizard. Is it wizard or wizardess for a woman? Whatever, Hilda the dwarven axe-wielding maniac. Is it maniac or maniacess? Sniverous Coldpepper and various others. All in all, it was a short and prosperous trip. I had hoped to secure some more information regarding Muir's sister as pirates are often linked in with the slave trade but no-one had heard or seen a human lass matching her name or description in those parts.

After finishing up with this task I returned to Hlint for a little rest and relaxation. Seen a little more of Muireann than in recent weeks which as been nice . . . can't help but wonder how long it will be before our next shouting match! Enjoying her good mood while it lasts!

Only other thing of note was a quick trip to Storan's Crypt with Tarradon and Serissa. I haven't had a lot to do with Serissa over the last few months ... she and Muir have no time for each other (putting it mildly) and there would be no quicker way to put an end to the peace than by being caught chatting to Serissa! Anyway, snuck out of Hlint down to the crypts. Was a relatively easy fight. I stayed behind the other two mostly, my sneak attacks are not particularly effective, but several times I had to utilise my knack for disarming traps and unlocking doors. I think all in all I did enough to justify my half share of the loot.

Oh, that's right, the loot should have divided by three! I'll catch them up next time *laughs*

[Pseudonym]

A quick tale to recount, that of an interesting journey organised by a chap by the name of Jin Lun Lee. I had met Jin once or twice before and he was as tolerable a companion as many I have encoutered in my time in and around Hlint. I saw a notice at the Wild Surge that this fellow was looking for travelling companions for a trip he was planning. Payment was to be in the form of equal shares of any booty found.

Normally such a notice would not have excited me to the point of getting out of bed, especially without the promise of a payment of a minimum fixed amount in gold, yet one thing about the notice captured my attention. Whomever was interested in accompanying Jin on his trip was to meet at his house at 136 Leilon. I coincidentally had been to the street where I knew this house to be a few times playing around with the idea of a bit of night time larceny and this was a perfect opportunity to have a closer look at a few of the houses with a legitimate reason for being there. I arrived an hour or so early for the meeting at Jin’s house and had a good look around the area ... very interesting. Elegant houses belonging to fat merchants with coin purses that are fatter still.

At the appointed time I made my way into Jin’s house ... I thought monks were supposed to be simple living, peace loving folk that were focused on the spiritual plane and not the material? This monk liked his creature comforts ... the house was huge and lavishly decorated. I couldn’t help but eye off an expensive looking candelabra but I think some of the others that had already gathered to Jin’s summons were keeping a pretty close eye so I didn’t try to swipe anything!

Some of those gathered I knew and some were new faces I had never before seen. Muireann of course I knew (intimately!), Tarradon Duvall, Alleina the priestess of Aeridin, Shamur the quiet yet effective fighter, Eghaas - who seems to have grown in power and stature since we last adventured together, Hilda the dwarven lady (lady? Ha!) battle machine and of course, our host, Jin. New to me was another priestess by the name of Ranewin and a little fellow named Thorn Someone the Fifth. All in all it seemed a more than capable group and after a brief conversation we headed out. A short trip by sea to Hurm and then we headed off into the wilderness following Jin’s urging and encouragement.

We travelled for many days and nights without, it seemed to my reckoning anyway, a particular destination in mind. We fought an array of foes, humanoid, monstrous, fantastical, whatever and whomever opposed our progress posed only a minimum of problem. The thing that concerned ... well, maybe not concerned, maybe more like interested me the whole time was that Jin seemed to be watching and evaluating each member of the party. Whatever I did, I could feel his inscrutable gaze weighing my every action. After a while it started to grate on my nerves and I decided the most amusing thing to do was to try and be as obnoxious as I could possibly be.

At one point an impossibly large and ferocious bear tore out of some nearby brush and attacked Ranewin who had wandered too near the beast's den. The monstrous beast was killed without too much hassle, a particularly fine shot of mine (if I do say so myself) that eventually dropped it, but Eghaas, ever the wannabe druid, was quite upset that we had slain one of nature’s creations! Who cares? Anyway, we probably could have pacified Eghaas - the bear did attack us first after all - but I decided to have a bit of fun. For the next hour or two I tried to fit the word ‘bear’ into every sentence that came out of my mouth!
“Watch your step Eghaas, I couldn’t ‘bear’ to see you trip”
“Is it getting chilly? I ‘bearly’ noticed”
“Got something to say Eghaas? Come on, I ‘bear’ you!”
Muireann changing into her armour - “Muir, you almost ‘beared’ all to the rest of the party!”
“My favourite food is definitely straw-bear-ies”
After a particularly fierce battle - “That was a very, beary close call!”

I did feel a little bit sorry for Eghaas, he did seem genuinely upset by the bear getting killed, but to watch Jin furiously scribble notes in his little diary at every provocative thing I said was hilarious and far outweighed Eghaas’ distress! Most amusing!

The further we travelled, we started having a few companions drop off to return to their various duties until there were only five of us remaining - Tarradon, Eghaas, Jin, Shamur and myself. We continued deep into the Anuroch Desert and must have accounted for a legion of giants. Eventually however, we were all laid low after we were overcome by a large band of giants that must have been put togther as a counter strike against our foray into their stronghold. The war band attacked us from ambush whilst we were being treated to a speech by Tarradon ‘Like the Sound of my own Voice’ Duvall - I can honestly say death was almost a sweet release.

[Pseudonym]

I have decided to end things with Muireann for good.

No big fanfare, no screaming arguments.

I just decided that I am not interested in trying to find love. In an arena match between love and lust, i’ll be on lust’s side every time. All the other . . . stuff is just unnecessary prelude.

I don’t like being accountable to any other person for my actions or my whereabouts. I don’t often feel the need to explain the whys and hows of my moods to any other person and to be brutally honest, I’m not really interested in what most other people have to say about anything . . . unless it’s about me of course.

[Pseudonym]

20 things I have learnt in my life.


1. Never, under any circumstances, drink more than 10 ales and eat a lot of bran on the same night.

2. Don't worry about what people think, they don't do it very often.

3. Going to a church doesn't make you a good person anymore than standing in a stable makes you a horse.

4. If you must choose between two evils, pick the one you've never tried before.

5. Not one shred of evidence supports the notion that life is serious.

6. It is easier to get forgiveness than permission.

7. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction, unless your action involved the spurring of a woman and then the reaction is disproportionately worse.

8. Eat well, stay fit, die anyway.

9. A balanced diet is an ale in each hand.

10. Junk is something you've kept for years and throw away three weeks before you need it.

11. There is always one more ogre/giant/spider/(etc) than you counted on.

12. Experience is a wonderful thing. It enables you to recognise a mistake when you make it again.

13. By the time you can make ends meet, they move the ends.

14. Someone who thinks logically provides a nice contrast to the real world.

15. It's not the armour that makes your bum look fat.

16. People who want to share their religious views with you almost never want you to share yours with them.

17. Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.

18. Never lick a steak knife.

19. You should never say anything to a woman that even remotely suggests that you think she's pregnant unless you can see an actual baby emerging from her at that moment.

20. There comes a time when you should stop expecting other people to make a big deal about your birthday. That time is age eleven.

[Pseudonym]

My Ode to Truth

Serenity
Peace
Harmony
Humility
Relaxation
Enlightenment
Friendship
Love
Understanding


Who needs it?
I am more than content with the remainder,

Women
Success
Gems
Horses
Prestige
Jewels
Food
Drink
Weapons
Houses
Ships
Glory
Clothes
Truth

[Pseudonym]

Muireann's pregnant.

Not by me - thank the senile Gods!

She told me the news the other day, the father is someone named Enzo Reynalt? Reynolt?

How do I feel? Relief mostly. Annoyance, too, I suppose if truth be told. Not that I want her, not at all, it's just that I prefer no-one else have her either. One minute I really don't care, next I find myself thinking of ways to make her pay for the ease in which she moved on from me. Somthing that implies I do care in some way. Muireann a mother? Poor little blighter, I cannot think of a worse mother to have.

Then I think of a newborn baby, I shudder, and thank all the Senile Gods that I will be far, far away when the brat is born!

[Pseudonym]

An interesting and profitable trip.

I received word through some of my . . . shadier contacts, that the pirate captain Liselle Arcanbow of the Trueflight was looking for a crew for a voyage out of Hurm. With little else to do, I decided to check out the potential employment opportunity. I made the trip to the pirate haven, by way of uneventful sea voyage, at the time Liselle’s ship was meant to be docking. Also gathered were more like-minded men and women such as myself who had been attracted by the lure of booty! A few months previous I had signed onto a trip on one of the Red Bear’s vessels and the Pirate Lord had proven to be a generous employer for skilled crews.

At the docks of Hurm were some faces I recognised and a few strangers. Dogboy - a suspicious looking halfling *wonders if that is a tortology*, Jake - the one-eyed (self styled) salty sea dog, Alandric - the arrogant and disdainful mage, Pig - the half-giant warrior, Revone - the quiet swordsman and Akki - the saucy bard.

We set sail with only an ambiguous detailing of our destination and purpose. Eventually it was made clear that we were heading west past Dead Man’s Point into the Forsaken Sea. No wonder our illustrious captain was being so vague as to our destination.

We arrived at a missionary settlement on a small island to find it abandoned and with no sign of any recent human habitation. Following an ancient map that Liselle had on her person, we trekked inland searching for the supposed final resting place of the pirate lord Ghant Vodoun. Not long after we set off I saw the first of the pygmy people.

The little fellow was almost cute, so tiny and childlike.

Ummmmm, I was soon disavowed of this notion after the little fellow and a couple of his tribe dropped myself, dogboy and a couple of the others in a storm of arrows. After eventually overcoming the pygmy warriors we snuck the rest of the way to the pirate lair - avoiding any more encounters with the vicious little pygmies *another tortology*.

The restless shades of the long dead pirate crew of Ghant Vodoun that we battled inside the caverns were almost welcome respite from the pygmy people outside.

We made our way deeper and deeper inside past ever more insidious traps and dangers - myself narrowly avoiding a visit from the soul mother - until we came to the tomb of Ghaunt Vodoun himself. After (yet) another fight, Liselle collected the mysterious treasure for which we had been hired to help her locate and the rest of us survivors of the crew split the other loot that we found in the lair, most notable of which was an awesome adamantium greatsword. Pretty, but entirely useless for yours truly. How come none of these long dead pirate kings ever wanted to be buried with their favourite adamantium shortsword?

[Pseudonym]

What have I been up to?

Lots of little things.
Some medium sized things.
A few big things.

I have sailed a few times aboard diferent ships in service to the Pirate captain, the Red Bear. There is currently a power struggle goping on between the forces allied under the Red Bear against those of the Silver Crescent slavers. Personally, I don’t have a huge problem with the concept of slavery - well not to the point of waging war against those who engage in the traficking of slaves anyway - however, the Red Bear has proven to be a generous employer on numerous outings now.

This time, myself and a group of others, were employed to salvage some mysterious treasure that would assist the Red Bear in his little war from the hulk of a shipwreck somewhere in the Forsaken Sea. Along for the excursion was Muireann, Thorn Thistletoe, Dogboy, Eghaas, AnnaLee, Akki, Alandric, Revone and a couple of others that I didn’t know. The recovery of the sunken treasure progressed fairly smoothly, without serious injury to yours truly, despite a few encounters with schools of sharks that infested the depths.

Again, the Red Bear proved to be generous and the whole venture added a couple of thousand trues to the bank balance.

I . . .  how do I put it politely? . . . been spending some quality time with Akki of late. She is an enigma to me, comes across as vague and flighty yet I know from experience is possessed of a keen wit and razor sharp perceptiveness. I haven’t yet worked her out but I have worked out she is a brilliant natural-born entertainer. Both on stage and in the bedroom.

I have spoken to her about renting out a spare room in her house in Krandor . . . people might not be seeing as much of me outdoors for a little while!

[Pseudonym]

By all the Senile Gods! I no sooner get out of one relationship with a crazy woman and jump straight back into bed with another!

I encountered Akki coming out of the Wild Surge the other night. I spotted Eghaas walking in the opposite direction. They both seemed upset. I immediately thought to myself, ‘I can be Mr Nice Guy here and score some brownie points (what a strange expression, I wonder how it originated as all the Brownies i’ve ever met are not terribly concerned with doing nice deeds!) and comfort her in her distress’.  Not two minutes into my comforting, it’s-all-gonna-be-okay routine and she looks up at my with tear streaked face and asks me if I love her?

My first thought;
Run!
My second thought;
Run fast!
My third thought;
Run to the hills at monk speed!

Three things stayed my feet at that moment.

One. Akki was a friend. Whatever else, this woman was a friend who was upset over something. It would cost me nothing to help her now.
Two. I had just handed over a large amount of true for my room at her house in Krandor and I was yet to receive my key.
Three. Garent already looks at me suspiciously as I walk past now and i’m sure he would have felt the need to detain/question me if he saw me depart town at a speed normally reserved for criminals caught red-handed.

I calmed her down and as the day was getting late I rented a room at the Wild Surge for us both. She repeatedly asked what I wanted of her,  what I needed of her. She seemed close to a break down. She basically presented herself to me on a platter if I assured her that I wouldn’t leave her alone that night.

I stayed with her all night. I held her in my arms. I didn’t take advantage of her.

Why?
Was it a bit of short-term pain for long-term gain?
Was it to protect my investment of true?
Was it a carefully weighed decision of the cost of my missing out on a night of pleasure versus gaining a powerful ally and friend?

Or, was it because I am a darned fool?