Some days the life of an adventurer is romantic and glamorous. Somedays it makes you wish for the simple pleasure of a fire and stars. I learned to appreciate the latter to the degree that I shall not forget it soon in this life. I was sailing north to Leringard, meeting with one of my contacts in the Leringard market, hoping to make a sale of some exotic goods I had come in to possession of. Along the journey, which had been characterized by a distinct lack of excitement, we were waylaid by some group of what I thought at the time were pirates. I had been in my reverie and was an easy target. I was subdued in the most profane way, beaten in to unconsciousness. I have only patchy recollections of my passage in to captivity, only brief glimpses of waking where I saw some fierce woman command the crew of my charter put to death except a child. I was then held, beaten within an inch of my life, but presumably saved because they thought, as the charterer of the ship, that I was perhaps important or held some knowledge or key to wealth, all erroneous ideas.
I lay broken on the ground, dreaming of the spires of Vanavar, my only solace in this place. I dreamt of the companies of valiant griffon riders defending our honour from a dark threat of dark elves. My vision bled in to a cold reality, as I felt the lashes of my captors scourge, then heard the raucous cries of a party coming in and slaying my captor. What should have been a happy event barely registered. I was helped to my feet and no sooner had I gotten my bearings, than the party rushed off after the woman who commanded these people. I stumbled along with them, and it became as a dream with gnomes standing around a man with a mechanical arm peering in to a large crystal orb. A dwarf and a Siphe Garra standing guard. His name was Poetr no less, the same as the member of the Angel's Guild! They dealt with the arcane room and then we stormed the sanctum of this woman and then the day was saved.
It seems I was taken prisoner by a group of Mistites whose real prize was this boy on our ship and that they were planning to deliver a cursed trident to a group of Shindalerians whom were hated by Mist. I am not pleased at the idea of having made an enemy of Mist, but such an act of malice cannot be permitted.
Having faced this adversity, I long for my life back in Vanavar back.
My patience finally came to fruition. I had decided to stay in the crossroads town of Center, waypoint to many merchants and adventurers, close to supplies of timber for arrow-making and possessing a fine crafthouse. I felt that I had made a provident choice upon my first night when I made company with not one but two beautiful women who appeared to have an interest in me. Layla, the human, was a feline like creature bearing a whip and hinting at an exotic mind, and the second was Zari, a fiery sorceress whose gorgeous features were a mask for a tragic past. We flirted at the campfire, making quite a time of it, trading quips and stories along with a ship captain Raz, and Deverain, some sort of mercenary who was quiet but shared good drink. This night was in stark contrast to the details of my previous entry to be sure. I left with a kiss from Zari, a caress from Layla and a promise of work on Raz's ship. Quite a night! But it would prove a mere shadow to the next day's events.
I had come in to the crafthouse to see if any work had been posted on the message board when I spied a group of adventurers speaking. Always looking for news I wandered over and introduced myself to the group. So fortuitous was this occurence that one Vell'dryn Rysdale, introduced himself as an Arcane Archer! My excitement apparent he made no apologies of a brash show of his skill, firing an arrow off of several surfaces and bullseyeing in his desired target. My voice became possessed by a thousand questions, which Vell'dryn happily answered. When I pleaded with him to teach me the way, he agreed and we set off on an expedition. We travelled in to lands well known to be plagued with wandering ogre tribes who scourge innocents with their malice. We stalked a group of such raiders, and then I witnessed Vell'dryn's might in action. He bid me be ready and upon giving the word fired a single arrow which exploded as a sun and consumed most of the raiders! We then mopped up the remainder. As we continued on, Vell'dryn explained that there were three levels of enchantment that I could impart upon my archery. The first was external, using rare enhancement rods to lay elemental power in to my arrow heads. The second was the personal use of Al'Noth to make my bow stronger, or to strengthen the elemental enchancements on my arrows, or in Vell'dryn's case to lay spell-singing enchantments. The third way, I was told, was the most powerful and the true power of the Arcane Archer and it was to imbue every arrow shot with a part of my essential core. This core which made up my identity and life as an elf. It was a profound thought that left my head spinning, but at the same time made an unspeakable kind of sense. I was told that every shot must be a meditation upon this, and must draw from this essential part of me when my soul meets the Al'Noth. I have never meditated, and I am not sure what my essential self is, and I confess in these pages that I am terrified to find out. But I must. This is the path that will lead me home, and so I cannot let my resolve waver.
I will be leaving Center, as quickly as I came, and setting out on this path Vell'dryn lay before me. I think I will spend some time at the shrine to Aeridin I have heard of in the Silkwood Forest, and then onwards to the shrine to Ilsare in Hlint. Perhaps these elven gods can guide me on this path.
My journey through the Silkwood Forest was quiet and left me ample time to reflect. I was struck by how claustrophobic the forest left me, without the feeling of the open sky above me, or seeing distant lands sweep out before me. I could not help but feel that I had missed out on some essential experience of being an elf, as forests are the preferred home of many of my kin. Indeed the pejorative of "leaf-eater" came about from this profound connection. Feeling this absence I took a leisurely pace towards Folian's Vale where I hoped to speak with the priests of Aeridin sometimes found there. I kept to quiet roads and safe paths, using my magic to remain unseen to anyone who might be looking. My heart leapt whenever I would catch sigh of the starry field through the canopy, moved by its majesty and splendor. I ate a simple lunch with three yards of a deer as well. A delightful experience. My reverie has been filled with a maelstrom of images: Vanavar's gates falling back in to the shadows behind me, a choppy ocean, an owl flying, Layla's face dancing in flames. I have had no ill feelings because of this, but rather a sense of gliding on air. Events travel quickly before me and I can feel no firm ground beneath me, but still I press on.
I finally came to the Vale after a few unanticipated days of wandering and a friendly guide. I foraged for some sustenance before coming upon a shrine to the Lifegiver, Aeridin. I spoke a few words with a true-believer there, explaining how I sought to connect with my essential self. The true-believer seemed pleased with my questions, and then lead me through a meditation. It was an intense experience. I sat in quiet, breathing and focusing inwards. I was instructed to let whatever emerged in my mind run its course. I was not to encourage or interfere with them, but as I tried to do this I was overtaken by a powerful force. I felt nauseous and enclosed, afraid. A great burning light overwhelmed me, and I could do nothing except stand and walk away. The priest of Aeridin followed me and said a prayer that helped soothe me. When I asked what had happened I was told that I had encountered exactly what I hoped. My inner self and it was more powerful than I had anticipated. This is how my journey begins, with a shocking revelation.
I spent the next week practicing this meditation with the priest, and learned to better withstand the intensity of my experiences encountering my inner life. By the end of the week, I no longer felt the panic and fear I felt initially, instead I could feel my learning mind trying to figure out what I was experiencing. The priest told me that quieting this voice would be the next step in my journey. I thanked him and left a donation in gratitude, but felt that I wanted a change and decided to visit Hlint, both to see the town that so many heroes have visited and to spend time in the shrine of Ilsare.
I arrived in Hlint to find a town nothing like I imagined it. It is small, quiet, unassuming. The shingle in front of the Wild Surge Inn was venerable and plain. I felt an absence of the memory of the great tales that came from this town, and pondered if that was due to the difference between elfs and shorter lived races. Many generations of humans had passed since the fall of Sinthar Bloodstone and the coming of the dark ages, and so perhaps they do not feel the dynamic of that time as acutely as I do, having parents who experiences its calamity first hand. Perhaps as an elf I am bridge through time? Could that be part of my essence? Am I to be a living repository of the greatness of Layonara?
I found some adventurers work, dangerous work from some of the residents of the town, which I executed admirably. I attempted to find my meditative light in my raid on the kobolds and goblins that plague the region, but the pressure of battle quickly pulled my focus outwards. There must be a way to maintain my inner focus while performing an outwards action.
I also spent some time with the Ilsareans who tend to the shrine in Hlint. I asked them for some guidance, but was not met with the same altruism that I received from the Aeridinite. Fiery folk, these Ilsareans, but finally, after making a substantial donation, I was able to convince one of the followers to give me some mentorship. I was lead through some exercises in artistic expression with pigments and paint brush where I was asked to freely put my feelings on to canvas. I found myself wanting to recreate the arcane runes I had spent so much time studying and did a fine job of depicting them. My mentor took a look at them, and then asked me what thoughts passed through my head as I worked. I explained how I tried to make each line a perfect representation as must be when one is setting down runes of Al'Noth. The Ilsarean, instead of praising my better than amateurish technique, instead admonished me, seeming even offended that such a deliberate process would even enter in to such a creation. I was then told to instead practice just drawing lines, but the drawing was not to be the focus, instead I was meant to draw without thought as to what the line should or would look like, but instead to let myself draw a line from my heart to the canvas.
This was about as ephemeral and vague an instruction as I could have imagined, but when I asked for more detail was told that all I needed to know was already inside me. I rented a room in the Wild Surge and spent the night drawing lines. They never looked right no matter what I tried to do, as I meticulously laid down line after line. Somewhere around hour six, I became extremely frustrated, not sure what I was doing or if this would get me closer to my goals, and in a fit, one I am not so proud of I should say, I threw my pot of pigment, creating a great swath across the wall, then fell in to my reverie for the remainder of the night.
At first light the Ilsarean came to my door, asking how my work had gone. I invited him in and showed him the paper, which he took and quickly glanced over frowning. He handed it back and then, I will never forget, noticed my paint swath on the wall. He asked what it was, and I sheepishly told him of my fit of rage. He studied it for a long moment before, much to my surprise, congratulating me. We spoke for a long time after that where he helped me realize that this swath, although perhaps not something society may applaud, was as honest an expression of my heart as he had seen. He encouraged me to continue exploring along these lines, which is what I have done this past month, every day practicing my meditation and then taking that jarred feeling and putting brush to canvas. Somedays I feel stilted and paralyzed, but others I feel this warm rush, as if somehow every fiber of my being is participating in this action. Quite exilirhating, actually, and these days have left me with a levity that I have quite enjoyed.
My painting has been coming along phenomenally! It is such an exhilirating experience, to take images dancing in my mind and to unleash them on canvas. I have found certain images emerge in my mind over and over: The Griffon, Al'Noth Runes of Power, The Gates of Vanavar. They are exhilirating, but it burns me as well. I cannot stop thinking about these things, nothing in particular, just the images race in my mind. Why? What am I doing? Where does it go? I have no answers, but I must go there. Where will it go? What am I learning? I have no answers. Who am I? I have a soul, but from whence does it come? Is it given by Aeridin? And then these creations I give rise to are just a product of my soul? I do not know. Or maybe, Aeridin gives us an empty vessel, and the act of creation is like pouring wine in a glass; it fills us with the substance of living we call a soul. Either way, am I just a product of the gods? Do I have an existence independent of them? If I am just their toy, do I have an essence I can discover or am I at the limit they have ordained for me? As exhilirating as this is, I must step away, and get back on course. Back to knowing who I am and what I am doing with this rush. I will go back to Folian's Vale, to the peace of that shrine. Immediately.
I had a tryst with Layla in the Silkwood Forest. It was awkward to arrive at, as I had made plans to meet, then broke them, as I again fell prey to a disquieting emotional response. Having been painting for a few weeks, I suddenly was overcome by a need for isolation. I decided to return to Folian's Vale. On the road, I met up with the adventurer Deverain, whom I had met in Center, when I first met Layla as well. We spoke and agreed to divert our paths towards a rumored cave that held dark silk producing spiders, a valuable commodity. It would also allow me to substantiate rumors of spider-like demons, which would possibly indicate the influence of dark elf gods. A thought I cannot bear.
Perhaps my meeting with Layla was fated, for we stopped in Folian's Vale as I requested, and there she was, on a sojourn of her own! She remained as exotic as I remember her, and as precocious: she had come upon my ox stabled in Hlint, and subsequently my journal, which she then read. I felt very exposed. Especially since I had strayed from the discipline that I was used to operating under so recently. We had a disagreement. It seems that she read my journal as punishment for not keeping our appointment in Hlint. This was annoying to me. I was being taken to task for having an experience I had no control over. I found a feeling well inside of me though. I was drawn to her pain, could almost feel it as she felt it and so I profusely apologized. This was something I was not used to, as my actions are generally considered and reasoned as to be beyond reproach, at least I feel this way.
Obviously this was a profound compassion I was feeling, I know that now, but it was startling and moving. I immediately felt closer and more intimate with Layla than I had anticipated. She accompanied us in to the Spider Cave. We were rebuffed by grotesque, and gargantuan spiders, never finding their ultimate den. We harvested some rare and valuable dark silk as our prize, but more important I found an instinctual connection to my essence down there, but not in any way I anticipated. I found myself giving care to Layla without thinking, and from a profound depth within myself, that I was not yet aware of. I felt a connection between an insubstantial self and this woman who I barely knew but stirred me.
I parted ways, confused, perhaps more confused than when I left Hlint. How was this connection created? Was this connection a manifestation of my already described essential self, or did this experience add to my essential self, a spiritual appendage? Now I am definitely taking repose in Aeridin’s shrine. I hope for a calming bath in the white light of my soul.
There are times in one's life where adversity and advancement both happen at a rapid pace. Where everything one experiences is magnified as if it were the climax of some great tale, except it is not the written words from the Muse, but an ordinary existence turned extraordinary. The first time this happened to me was the events that perpetrated my self-imposed exile.
Now I find myself coming home to roost as the Griffon trainers might say. Upon my return from the Adamantine Prison I received a message from Elmina! A tumult overtook me as I read her cry for help. Part of me wished to fly towards her, part of me wished to fly away. My conscience compelled the latter and I set out immediately for Mith'oromarde not knowing what I may find.
My reception at the gates was even more baffling; Elmina was with child! My child's heart was speared! A part of me actually expected Elmina might come back to me, might have held out for me. What a fool! I choked down this vile feast when I learned that Aavarius was kidnapped by a strange wizard. Elmina begged me to find him. For all that has passed between us, I could not deny her, much as I wished to sweep her away for myself. I promised the only decent thing I could: return Aavarius to Mith'oromarde before the birth of their child.
I took the farewell letter, falsely claimed to be in Aavarius' hand, and armed with the information that this Wizard hailed from Lor, set out on his trail. He came through North Hampton, apparently kidnapping three other spell-swords, and so I set sail from there to Lor. On the journey, I was told that the white desert on the tip of Belinara was a gods-forsaken place, that no sailor would even entertain sailing to. I was not sure what I was getting in to as I landed in Lor, but I set about getting a room in a seedy part of the city, so I might hear rumor of this wizard's foul deeds. It turns out I received better news from the city guard who had received rumor of this Wizard travelling north not long since I arrived. I then vainly attempted to scry Aavarius' letter, gaining nothing more than an impression of evil, however my flop house came to fruition when I found a man to scry the letter for me, at great cost. It lead me to the Great Desert, to a portal in the sand. When I followed it I was transported to a sealed cave, devoid of magic. A paralyzing feeling, especially considering who I have been invested in integrating the Al'Noth in to more of my life. Worse than that, I was beset by animated corpses. It required all of my physical ability to defend myself, and feared I would be done for more than once. As I travelled further in, my magic returned, but some force sapped my physical strength, this pushed my limits even further, however I discovered a weakness in the construction of these animated corpses, where a well-placed arrow can interrupt their animation. It was here that my revelation began as I used my meditation and True Strike divinations to place my arrows accurately. During these battles, as I was enveloped by the Al'Noth, I could feel that part of my self I tap in to during meditation reaching towards my target, I could feel it even after the spell had faded.
I took this feeling and pressed deeper in to the cavern. I heard a voice and saw two shapes. The voice spoke of the glory of his creations, and then said that the Black Wizard would accept him now. With that the kidnapper vanished, without ever revealing himself to me leaving only Aavarius. Only it was not the Aavarius I knew: he called himself "The First" and was filled with rage and rancor. I tried to reach through the poison on his mind, but it became clear that there was no recourse but to put Aavarius down. It was not my wish, but I knew in my heart that I must subdue him. I was careful to place my arrows in places where he might recover. I was able to save my old friend. The cost of this violence weighs upon me, and I shall not soon forget it. I took Aavarius to the Temple of Az'atta to be healed, and am now en route to Mith'oromarde to reunite him with his love.
They had a girl. The news created a generally pleasant mood across the city as another generation separates us from our dark past. They even named her Star after me. A great honor to be sure. It has been a pleasant stay in the city; I have stayed with my parents who are pleased that I have been well in the world outside. I managed to find some time to shoot with Aavarius. He truly has become my better having training and support in his journey. I happily drank in all the advice he might offer about arcane archery, although most of what he said was technical, and although I could follow him, it has been apart from my own learning about our great art. I did find however that Aavarius has a less intense focus that I do; there is a quality of "letting go" when he shoots which I will explore myself. In my meditation I will contact the feeling of my essence reaching out to my target, have that strong in my body, and then when I shoot, I will simply breathe in to that. It was comforting to share that with him; it has been comforting to be back here in the halls I know so well, to see Griffons patrolling the skies, to be home. I buried my grievances with Aavarius, admitted how foolish I had been and gave him and Elmina my blessing. I had more trouble with Elmina. I know my time with her has passed, but I could not find the words to express how I felt for her. Instead I would spend long hours just sitting by her bed or outside her room while she nursed Star. I felt so grateful for everything I had with her, but sad that our paths could not have come together as I always wished.
Aavarius told me more of this Black Wizard aspirant, Voegler as well. He seems to be some power hungry mage who will not let anything come between him and his goals. I told Aavarius that I would hunt him down, and it seems the competative fire between us will not diminish in peace. Aavarius promised to get him first. I have received a letter from Layla, and it well reminded me of the life I am building away from Mith'oromarde. It is time to take my leave now. I have a feast to throw for the guardsmen of Lor, and a tryst with Layla, who knows where that will lead. Perhaps I will return sooner than last time, I might like to try my hand at Griffon riding.
With Voegler in my mind I left Vanavar, and found a boat destined for Huangjin. I must learn more about this enemy if I am to have a chance of taking this foe. I was came to the heart of Toran's faith, the citadel, a magnificent edifice brought me hope that there was justice to be found. I gained an audience with Elrand, a member of the esteemed Company of the Star, where we spoke briefly about the Black Wizards, and the state of their threat and where they operate from. It felt good to know there are those out there who are striving for the same goals I am. Elrand promised to pursue this matter at Hilm Castle, and I decided to travel to Lor. I thought that the feast I planned to give to the guards would be a good opportunity to begin investigating Voegler's ties to that city. As I travelled to Lor I realized something I dare not write here, but suffice it to say that the game is afoot. Fearing for my safety, I reached out to Layla, hoping that she might be able to aid me in this time of need. I may be paranoid, but I do not wish to take a chance. This man Voegler must not be permitted to continue on his dark path.
Layla met me and we spent a wonderful night together. She promised to give me aid, angel that she is. I feel like we are two kindred spirits, different but alone together. We are now preparing this feast for the guard, and I am in the forest hunting for the meat we will need. I stumbled across a raiding party of ogres. I used my divining magic to lay an arrow through the mouth of their spell-weaver, then focused my essence in to enhancing my arrows. It was unsteady, but as I brought my breath in line with my focus, I found clearer shots with more force. Alone, I defeated eight ogres. It was a great victory.
The planning is nearly complete for this grand feast. It has been a wonderful experience. There have been some exhilarating hunts and I have been using my developing archery skills to great use. I felled 8 Deer and 2 Wild Boar with ten shots, all through the heart. Since my experience with Aavarius, my epiphanies while saving him and his tutelage afterwards, my bow feels like my own breath; with arrows flying from my string as easily as a sigh but carrying the force of a gale. Layla seemed impressed, especially at a couple that were from an extreme range, or the one where I closed my eyes. I cannot resist showing off for Layla, she makes me feel like a school boy again, and she is beautiful, having a quiet grace which seems more at ease amongst nature than a city.
I have loved making the plans for this feast, mostly because Layla is so exuberant. I wonder if all Xeenites are like this? If so, it is most certainly a fun cult although I am not sure how they organize themselves. We will be having the feast very soon and then after that I must return to my search for Voegler, going to Spellgard for scrying.
I was once again drawn in to the strange conflict between Kithairien and the cult which seeks to ruin the patron of my wild kin. This time we travelled to the far Deep. Not the areas civilized by Rael, but to the wilds of that grotesque land. We arrived there through the cave in the Silkwood known the be infested with spiders. I learned that the dark elves had attempted an invasion of the surface from here. I felt no joy at the prospect of facing them, but it would be unforgivable to let them gain a foothold on the surface. I took heart in my knowledge of the ancient elven arts of archery, confident I could make a difference. We travelled down through the cave, to dark and hidden chambers. We slew many messengers of Ca'Duz and I played my part with my bow singing like an Ilsarean harp and every note I plucked made my soul leap. My connection to the Al'Noth gave me an uncanny awareness of the ebb and flow on the battlefield.
We came to the bottom of the cave and found a passage to the Deep. I gripped my bow with white-knuckles, entering this place of childhood nightmares, but the steadfastness of my companions like Jo Poetr helped me find the courage to move on. As we descended through labyrinthine passages we began to encounter strange twisted spider-demons from some forsaken Pit. We were headed toward the epicenter of the force that the Kitharienites said we must face. It was as if Ca'Duz himself were planning to arrive and claim the crown of Layonara. I continued to find resolve in the calm breath of my archery and the clarity it emanated from my soul. I put arrows through many spider eyes but the legion we faced became ever larger. Then we saw them, demons of awful countenance who had given birth to an even more terrifying spawn and who were the crux of this invasion. I had to summon all of my force of will to have my arrows find vulnerable areas to pierce them, but even then it was to little avail. I instead acted as a distraction so that the Orc-killing machine we used could do its job. I put arrows across the demons' field of vision or hitting stones off of embankments to obstruct them. We eventually put them down but they were not the finale. Fleur, the arch mage sensed a rift in the Al'Noth and a terrible evil. We raced through the bowels of the Deep cutting through the seemingly endless legion of spidery Ca'Duz spawned demons. Then we came to it: The Son of Strife. A spawn larger than a dragon spewing lightning and acid. It was a pitched battle, but the might of the humans Robb and Aesthir was not to be outdone and we felled the demon, closing the portal to the Ca'Duz Pit this invasion originated from.
The Kithairien stone was rightfully returned for which we received the gratitude of the Wild Elves. For my own part, I felt pride in preventing a Ca'Duz foothold on Layonara and even more so that I could do so with the ancient legacy that the dark elves loathe. Fitting justice.
I had been in the Silkwood gathering some flowers to make tea from and decided to travel in to Hlint to the adventurers oasis there when I ran in to Layla. It was a pleasant surprise and we spent some hours talking together as she worked. We decided to travel together and on the road ran in to two undead hunters, Ulk and Glithc'nich who told us of a crypt they had cleansed in the Hammerbound Peaks. We had heard of some work retrieving a rare oil for a horse merchant in Fort Llast from those very mountains, and decided, against my intuition to join together and find it. As we ascended the mountain range, we faced boulder throwing mountain giants, ettins and all sorts of giant-kin. I put my bow to good use, and I find my practice is becoming more and more instinct. Layla noticed how I had improved, so it must be paying off. It also made me feel exceptionally pleased when she commented on it. Alas, it was not meant to be a safe ending. We came to a giant encampment and were spotted by the main of their force and overrun. I awoke in the peace of the shrine of Aeridin and dwelt there for a time, meditating and collecting herbs. In a fine piece of recursion, Layla found me there. She had recovered the oil from the fracas and gotten out unseen. We retrieved our reward and spent a blissful night together.
The day of the feast had finally arrived and I was filled with nerves. Everything was in place and Layla had been working extremely hard, in fact none of this would have been possible without her. I knew she was finding entertainment, staff and decorations, but I did not know what exactly. I must be honest, with her being a Xeenite, I was afraid that she might perhaps err on the side of alienating excesses, but in the end she struck the perfect balance between exotic and spectacular. The guests filed in and we greeted them; I tried to learn as many names as possible. As the hall filled up I was captured by the a nostalgia for the comraderie I had with my kin in Mithoro'marde. As I looked about the men and women of Lor, who had stood against the might of Rael and not blinked, I felt the power of their fraternity. The food was excellent, the wine was divine, and it was topped off by breaking bread with the guards who helped me find Aavarius. We shared some laughs and a toast before the dinner dishes were cleared. The entertainment was excellent, the contortionists filling the guard with wonder, the singer capturing their heart, and the harpist set the mood. Once dinner was done, I took the stage and thanked the guard, making an awkward but well-intentioned speech. From there it was dessert with the officers. I offered my services to train their archers. I think with all I have learned about channeling my essence through the Al'Noth could provide a unique insight to the men and women of Lor. Hopefully, they will take me up on it. The the grand finale: Layla got up to sing a haunting song about a main drowning in Hurm, and being captured by pirates. I was so enamored with her; I never knew she could sing! The evening ended on a high note, with all the guests having a joyous time. Layal insisted on pulling me away from the clean up to celebrate, and we stayed up until dawn.
Layla and I travelled to Spellgard together where I met with a wizard there to try and deal with Voegler's scrying of me. The wizard who helped me was a kind and serious man named Elias. He was very determined in his work, and managed to track Voegler to the Sinister Forest. Elias also remarked that there was a female with Voegler, but that she could not be seen. I am anxious to know who she may be and what her signifgance is. I was also given a ring to shield me from Voegler's eyes, but was not guaranteed its efficacy. I wear it day and night now, but part of me wishes to remove it so I can confront Voegler, show him I am not afraid. I was told that I owe a bond of blood to Lucinda in exchange for her gifts, and that I will be called upon to fulfill it, and I may not refuse. This does not seem a high price to me as I would not refuse a goodly request from such an esteemed cult anyway, but I may rue these words later.
From Spellgard Layla and I continued to Castle Imjam, on the advice of Elias, to see a Pit Stalker there by the name of Malach'ah. He was a man clearly too steeped in his work to have time for such attributes as affability or compassion. No matter, I can respect such a drive. I shared as much as I intelligibly could, and most of what I received left me more confused than I had been. I was told that Moselle did not have her heart stolen, but rather the essence of her heart? The soul? The energy of her heart? I am not sure. I was told that whatever was stolen would have been put in a Soul Container. On a more fortunate note, I was also told that Connor, the man I spoke discovered Moselle with, along with others, also spoke with Malach'ah, so perhaps there is an opportunity to pool resources. As of now, I will meet with Connor if possible and then go to speak with a cleric of Aeridin to see how I might aid in the healing of Moselle.
I undertook a massive project, somewhat on a whim, inspired by my travels to the Dragon Isles. I decided to map as much as I could. I put out a call for aid, and to my good fortune I was met with a team of strong adventurers. Koigan, the dwarf; Ausir, a man from some exotic isles who was a menace with his sword; Lara, a mercurial mage; and Mubiddle, a devotee of Beryl. We set off and made fairly good progress across Caesin, as I had been there before and knew something of the lands. We descended a cave I had been seen but never explored. There was traveller named Eulogy who was taking refuge in the cave, and who we permitted to accompany us. It seems he was a spellweaver as well, so we were prepared for anything. Except what we came upon: a tribe of subterranean Minotaurs who kepy Gorgons as cattle. They seemed to be warlike and I can only imagine the woes they have inflicted upon the lands. Suffice it to say that they will not be an issue for some time to come.
Once we left the depths of the cave, Eulogy continued on his way, and Ausir accompanied him, complaining of his swordplay being off. I saw no such defect, in fact I would be hard-pressed to think of a better swordsman, but such is the plight of the perfectionist, never seeing the forest for the trees. The four remaining felt optimistic and continued on, mapping out another good portion of the journey. We covered a good portion of Caesin, and then took a row boat across to the closest island and found a harbor surrounded by craggy peaks. There appeared to be a great many birds swooping about. As we travelled through the valleys, the birds seemed to spot us and dive down. It quickly became evident that these were not birds, but rather some sort of bird-humanoid cross. They sang enchanting songs to try and beguile us, succeding with poor Koigan. Murbiddle and I stood strong against the swarm as we tried to fall back. Finally Koigan came back to his senses, and we caused enough pain to these creatures to make a retreat. Mountains gave way to foothills and we enjoyed the fresh grass and view of distant forests. We spotted some smoke from a cooking fire or somesuch in the distance and we decided to investigate. As we approached I saw the tell tale features of a satyr. I know they can be enigmatic creatures, but not always a threat. We came closer and were spotted, and the satyr spoke some word of power paralyzing Koigan and Lara with fear. I tried to rally another retreat, but could not calm Lara and Koigan, and we were overtaken by one of their warriors. We subdued him, and then fled, receiving no pursuit, but it began what was a trying journey through the satyr-inhabited lands.
We tread softly and unseen through field and forest. We did not rest for what must have been days as there was never a group of satyrs too far afield. We pondered turning back until we spied what looked to be an ancient entrance to some subterranean complex. Seemingly abandoned on an islet in the middle of a river. It was a simple enough swim to the islet, and we decided to descend, having no notion of what we might find. We found ourselves in a labyrinth of sorts with strange runes throughout in some language I have never seen, unimaginably old. There was a primal energy to the place, almost throbbing. We soon were assailed by the denizens.. Wolves, Bears, Cats, Rats, any type of creature you can imagine, but grotesque and large with a keen mind, possibly even intelligence as I have. But they had no desire to parlay, only for blood, and so began a pitched battle against them. I hoped we might find a source for their abomination, so we pressed them deeper and deeper in to their den. They became more and more vicious as they were backed in to their corner. Every muscle ached, from the odyssey we underwent, but we vanquished them in the end. Alas, there was no source to be found, but learning of the existence of this place is enough, I can decide how to proceed from there.
Returning to the surface, Lara and Mubiddle had had their fill of the wilds, and Koigan and I bid them farewell, leaving them a fine share of the treasure we had accumulated on the journey. Koigan and I still had a thirst for adventure and decided to press on. We travelled in the same watchful presence for many more days until the sightings of satyrs tapered off, the trees thinned, and gave way to foothills which in turn yielded to a vast mire. It was here that we met our match. As we surveyed the land, as far as we could see in either direction, figures dotted the land, trolls, massive and in great number. We would not march in to the what seemed the birthplace of the troll race without a greater might or arms than we two currently possessed. Our return to the Caesin docks was done under the cloak of Al'Noth, and was relatively uneventful except for one incident where we encountered an infant drake who could see through my illusion. We made it through with a travelling cloak falling prey to its flames, and took the first ship back to Vehl. It was odd returning, as if nothing had changed except me. Koigan and I made for the inn, and drank the feelings away.
I have been too busy to write, but I should make more time for it for I have travelled to many places and seen many wonders. I undertook an exploration mission as a scout in a region of Belianra between the Dark Hills and the Cloven Mountains. We were to clear the way for our enterprising employer, whomever that may be, so that they could set up a laboratory. Everything seemed to be on the up and up and there was quite handsome pay promised, but as the expedition came to a mysterious tower, populated by fierce elementals, I began to have my doubts. Perhaps the experiences with Moselle cause me to see exploitation of elemental power everywhere, but perhaps my intuitions are correct. I plan on chartering Razeriem's boat to return there, if only he can be convinced.
Speaking of Moselle, it would seem that that chapter is far from over, indeed it insinuates itself in to my life deeper than I wanted. I connected with Connor Garvill, the Lucindan of fame, and his companion AnnaLee to exchange information regarding Moselle. In our exchange I discovered that Voegler is in fact colluding or perhaps even directing the Giantess in her quest to gain power and eternal life through the hearts of the elementals, but Voegler is not Voegler, in fact his name is Amit, and he is an ancient and depraved wizard. Furthermore, after employing the investigator Brualot, I discovered that Amit is not even human, but rather a gnome. Amit and his brother, twins, used to carry out heinous experiments together, twisting and corrupting animals; precursors, I suspect, to his work on humans and elves.
Amit and the Giantess, I dare not even write her name, are situated in the Sinister Woods. Although I would not move against them directly at this time, I did try and convince a druid of those woods to help eject him. I received no firm commitment of alliance, but instead was told that whomever was most worthy of her aid would receive it. I can only hope that the company and I are those people.
Aside from that, I have been practicing the formula that Connor showed me to camouflage myself in the Al'Noth. I have not had much success, but this is no surprise as I have been occupied with adventuring work: Raiding a lizardman tribe that troubled Hlint, a bugbear clan outside Mariner's Hold, crippling giant raiders in the Forest of Fog and collecting bounties on giants in the Great Desert. I have been busy. But not busy enough to stop seeing Layla.
We did spend some time apart as I travelled here and there, but we have been together quite a bit of late, and it has been a fruitful and fortifying experience. She captivates me with her free spirit, her beauty and her unassuming wisdom; whenever I have needed support or advice I can count on her. She makes me laugh, she makes me.. happy. I had always felt myself closest to Aeridin because of the sanctity and beauty of life, but Layla's ministration under Xeen have awakened me to a world of passion and vitality I scarcely imagined. I have too much respect for all the gods to give myself to one alone, but I must say that I hope to take part in some of their festivals. Such a celebration of the physical world would be a revelation of my own limits as a person.
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Topic: Kalberen Starseeker-An Adventurer's Thoughts (Read 1192 times)
