The Journals of Connor Garvill

[Dorganath]

16 Apreal, 1382

My word was given, and my word was kept.  Once again, I joined a group of adventurers to aid the Lost Library.  Since the last time we were there, an unbelievable amount of gold was raised mostly by Triba and Serenity/Eldarwen to support the effort of returning the Lost Library to the surface of this world for all to see. With most things of great importance, gold was not the only condition upon its return.

The library, at the insistence of the elves, was to be returned to Voltrex. To ensure all peoples would be permitted unfettered access to the Library, a deal was struck between ourselves, the Five Towers on Voltrex and Queen Allurial and her sisters. This deal will establish a portal between Mistone and the library on Voltrex for as long as Lucinda is alive and in control of the Weave.  In exchange, Lucinda will aid Katia in the heavens.  It was a great honor to gain audience with the Queen, though I found myself to be quite intimidated by her presence and the presence of her sisters.

With the deal in place, we once again sought out the Ulgrids and their great underground port.  We sailed for weeks searching for the location of the library, so that we may get close enough to make use of some device in Ozy's possession that would return us all to the library to begin the process of returning it to the surface.  Along the way, we were ambushed by pirates, but we were able to defeat them and we took their ship to add to our efforts.  

And so, once again...and for the last time...I stood in the Lost Library.  The next time I see it, it will no longer be "lost."  As I wandered among the countless stacks and rows of books, I could not help thinking that all the answers I and others have sought in recent months concerning the recent machinations of the drow would be found in this very place.  Ancient knowledge, lost for centuries, now available once again. But, I am hopelessly bad at finding anything in libraries...as my last several trips to libraries have proven.  I found nothing pertaining to my own questions, but I saw enough that I could spend my entire lifetime and only scratch the surface of what is contained in this place.

But our time was cut short.  We needed to return and begin the process, by ships and by magic, of bringing the library up and transporting it to Voltrex.  And having fulfilled his purpose so faithfully for centuries uncounted as the caretaker of the library, Arenski Preillarn ceased to be.  All that remains of him is the library itself and dust.

Once rebuilt on Voltrex, the portal to the library will remain open as long as Lucinda is alive (whatever that means to a god) an in control of the Weave.  I pray things remain so.  I cannot imagine how things would be without Her.

Yet, in this triumph there is concern, for this night, the constellation of the Serpent struck out at the Heart, I can only assume this is becau... *the last word trails off abruptly into illegibility and is smudged as if the journal was closed too quickly*

*there is a small scorch march on the parchment as well, roughly in the shape of the side of a hand and positioned about where one's hand would be after writing the word "Serpent"*

[Dorganath]

He...has come.  Our actions with the Library have been noticed, and brought his wrath upon Hlint and those who aided in bringing about the Library's return.

It was him...here.

The Enemy

Blood

I was struck down, as were many.  My knowledge of the events is small, for I was killed very early.  I only know through second-hand accounts.  He is said to have ridden a red dragon (could it be true?).  He struck without mercy...without warning....and with little defense.  He left, and the priests and healers tended to the wounded and dead.

In the lull, the icons of the Serpent and the Scorpion appeared in town.  Younger fools approached them.  Those who had seen the statues before observed from a safe distance.  And then...

A second attack came some time later, and Milara struck at us with his own fury.  Again, I fell along with many others.   Too many.  In the midst of the carnage, Blood appeared again and gave a warning to Triba.

Was it posturing, or shades of hardship to come?  Time will tell, but one thing is certain....

We sure got his attention.

[Dorganath]

*Connor sits on the stage in Hlint. He takes a notebook from his pack filled with notes and things most notably regarding alchemy, thoughts on the Weave and the Drow and their plans. He turns to a fresh page and begins to write*
  For the Eyes of Her Majesty Queen Allurial:
  My Queen,
  I am sure by now word has reached you regarding our findings in the Serpent Isles. I will contribute my understanding to the information you may already have, in order thay you may form a more complete picture of the situation.
  A few of my companions and I believe this power to be something known to the Tol'eflor as the Cradle. It is a power source of ancient and unfathomable proportions. Katrien Hommel, Lalaith Va'lash and I have studied this for some time now, though it was not until we arrived on the Dragon Isles that we began to realize that the power you sent us to investigate and the Cradle were likely one and the same. It is the power of Creation, Life and Death itself.
  When the Tol'eflor left this world, the Cradle was to be tended by three families of Firstborn. Since that time, the families have fallen from memory, their bloodlines diluted among the races, and the Cradle grows more and more chaotic after millennia of neglect.
  We did not approach the Cradle. My studies of the Cradle tell me that for most, to approach the cradle means certain death. We received confirmation enough regarding what we sought when we encountered Navarre along our journey, as well as much resistance from the drow. No doubt word of their attack on Port Hampshire has also reached your ears. I do not trust this Fallen of Toran, but his words confirmed what I had already suspected.
  Instead, we sought and found the homes of the three families of the Firstborn, tasked by the Tol'eflor with tending and maintaining the cradle. The Firstborn have passed from life long ago, but we were able to recover some information and artifacts from these homes, and we are working to assimilate them into our understanding.
  The Cradle, however, is not what we should fear. There is a greater threat...that of the Drow...of which My Queen is no doubt aware. For some time now, myself and a few others have known that the Drow seek to enter this Cradle in order that they may wield its power and fill the Cradle with hate and anger. They have planned this for centuries uncounted, and it seems that now the time of action is upon them, and us as well. If they are successful, they will blacken our skies and reclaim the surface where once they lived ages ago.
  The Drow have recently begun their rituals, and in so doing, the walls between our Realm and the Shadow Realm have become thin and have started to break down. I believe that the recent changes in the Silent Watch are a direct result of this activity by the Drow.
  My Queen, your summons honored me greatly, and I would eagerly welcome another chance to serve at your pleasure. There is much I can tell you of the Drow and their plans and each day increases my understanding in these matters. You need only say the word and I shall provide whatever counsel or aid you and the people of Mistone...indeed, the people of Layonara....require.
  In closing, I would like to advise you of the bravery and determination of the others who you summoned for this task. They fought well and protected the group. We could not have learned what we learned without their aid.
  Your humble servant in the Name of Lucinda,  Connor Garvill
  *Carefully, he tears the page from its bindings and folds the letter in thirds, then tucks the notebook into his pack*
  *He rises and walks to Blackford Castle. Upon reaching the castle, he hands the note to a guard, with the request to deliver it to the Queen*
  *As he leaves the castle, he rests his staff on his shoulder and walks off, humming an unremarkable tune whose tempo matches the pace of his steps*

[Dorganath]

Very crafty, these Drow.  The terrorize the people of this world for months, poisoning, killing, striking fear.  And then, they're gone.  The watchers returned, their contracts complete.  We're left in silence...a relative calm that has lulled us into complacency.  Very clever, indeed.

But now, that is changing.  The Ritual has begun, and its effects have been seen in the mountains near Fort Hope as the walls between this realm and the Shadow Realm begin to break down.  I have only heard bits and pieces of what has become of those mountains...enough to know I should stay away.

The Council has taken note of our actions and seeks to rob us of our strengths.  As their tools, they are using a handful of our own people...good people who were in a dire situation and bargained for their lives, though they really had no idea what they had done. The Council has given them each a task...a simple task to obtain something and return it to them: Kat's flute, my book, Veldrin's sword, the Fairy Mound.  The "reward" for this task is their souls.  The penalty...death.  Yet their success means the doom of us all.  There was fear among them at first, but now, I think, there is understanding, though I do not like playing with the lives of others.  Yet, there are plans being made.  I need to speak with Annie and Gloin.

Word has reached me through a fellow named Goldwin that Yashilla was attacked by a drow assassin only a day or two ago.  This does not bode well for the others.  We must once again live with our wits poised at the tip of a sword.

Since our trip to the Serpent Isles, I have scarecely seen either Kat or Lalaith.  Lalaith I have seen only in passing...a quick "hello" and then she was gone.  Yesterday, I encountered Kat in Pranzis as I stopped off during an exploration trip to Dregar.  We spoke for hours about recent events. It was a good talk, but not as insightful, I think, as either of us would hope.  We need to try and gather the rest of the family *the pen paused briefly here*.  

Lalaith has the journals from the other two houses.  Perhaps by now she has them translated, and we can make some more sense of things. I'll have to try to find her, but her ability to slip in and out of the shadows might make that difficult unless she wants to be found.  Perhaps I will leave her a note.

Another day in Dregar, I think, and then I shall head back home.  Travelling helps me think, but the time for action is upon us.

[Dorganath]

Why did I ever agree to go?  Maybe it was a need for a diversion.  A long journey to speak with the green dragon to supposedly complete some deal made between all of the remaining chromatics. Within the Green's lair, magic is wild and untamed.  It was a very strange place, both fascinating and utterly terrifying at the same time.  I did not dare to use my magic within those halls, even when my protections dissipated.

I had never before truly seen a live dragon.  And to be honest, the experience was not pleasant, nor was it for the dwarf Brac'ar who did all the talking to the dragon.  We sealed a deal with the dragons to unite against Blood.  The prospect of bearing witness to such a pivotal even in Layonara's history was too much for me to pass up.

And yet...we were apparently unsuccessful.  The green dragon agreed, but there is apparently another goal of these dragons, one that chills me to my core. *the pen pauses*  I can not seem to write of it....for fear it would actually come true. I will say, however, that I was stunned when I learned that those who brokered this deal would even tolerate such a provision. Who are they to bargain with things they do not even possess???

It is this secondary goal that seems to be the problem.  We visited an odd fellow named Ozlo, who berated us about the lack of unity to the cause.  He may be right, but by the gods! Was he ever rude!

So it would seem that the goal has not yet been accomplished, though it is not lost.  Even so, Blood has once again taken notice of our actions.  He appeared before some of us as we returned from the dragon's lair, though I did not see him.  And as we traveled to see this Ozlo fellow, it was apparent that Blood has begun moving his forces, as we were beset by demons, the likes of which I have never seen.

[Dorganath]

So much has changed, and not all for the best. Sometimes I wonder why I ever left my home.  It wasn't perfect, but it was at least...stable.  Bah!  Who am I kidding?  This place is my home now, for better or for worse.  I will have to accept the changes that come and adapt.  There is no other choice.

A friend is no longer who he was...or perhaps he is becoming again as he once was long ago.  It was he who attacked Yashilla recently, much to my shock and disbelief.  Either way, the pain is real. When his change is complete, I fear the only thing left of him will be his Gift to me... gift that perhaps changed both of us in ways we could not predict. Music comes to me now in a way it never has before.  I hear it everywhere...in the wind through the trees and grass...in the water lapping against the shore...in the raindrops falling against a window...in magic...especially in magic.  And I feel it in my heart...my soul.  But what I have gained pales to what has been lost.

But my loss is secondary...Lalaith's loss is far greater, though it involves the same person.  The pain and anquish in her eyes was almost too much to bear.  And the Council now has a strong ally, and our task has become much more difficult.

I do not understand fully what has happened to him...only what others have told me, and even that is incomplete.  What has reached my ears speaks of betrayal and trickery. I have to believe he would not choose this path on his own.

I am told he has something for me.  I only hope he is in the mood to talk when he delivers it...and that he does not deliver it with his blades.

[Dorganath]

The rumors are true.  I did not wish to belive them, but they can no longer be ignored.  He was deceived, and now his path is set against those he once aided.

He appeared to me, as he often did, stepping out of shadow.  His eyes and face betrayed a conflict...an inner battle that he was rapidly losing.  I was to be the last he would visit.

While his restraint lasted, we spoke of many things.  We spoke of the deception that set his path against ours....and of the one who deceived. *ink blot*

*the writing continues down a bit on the page due to a scorched section*

He confirmed another rumor...that the last link in the chain, the one in the prophecy, has been forged, and it is being carried by....my sister. We spoke of the Purge, of the coming Ritual and the Council.  We spoke of many things, and for a short time...the one I knew was there...struggling, but there. *ink blot*

His final act was to bestow gifts upon me.  More gifts, from the one who has already given me so much.  Mostly books...and the gems of his House...and perhaps something more...

Our business concluded and he slipped back into the shadows once more...the sound of his farewell lingered in the still night air.  The one who I called Friend...the one who I called Brother...is gone.

[Dorganath]

The gathering is at hand.  With the star gems successfully gathered by Kobal and his expedition, set our sights on the next ingredient.  It was the most mysterious of all...water from the Blessed Font of Voltrex.

Months ago, our initial inquiries about the Font showed it to be a myth....merely symbolic of the soul of the Elven people.  But now that the Great Library is restored, we learned more....much more.

At the Library, I was given access to the writings of Arenski Preillarn himself, compiled over the countless centuries he cared for the Lost Library...and something not generally shared with the public. *a note in the margin reads: Be sure to thank Triba and Eldárwen*

The text spoke of the Font and the truth behind it.  I learned that our answers lie with the Five Towers on Voltrex.  With little delay, Kobal, Katrien and I set off for Voltrex, using passes obtained months ago by Kobal through some deal unknown to me.  They were only good for a short stay on the Isle, so we needed to act quickly.

To say I was both awed and disappointed was an understatement.  The city of Saida was astonishing.  The forest of the Isle defy description in their beauty and strength.  And yet, I found many of the elves we met to be uncourteous and arrogant.  And to think it is these people we must plea for help!

Our task was to convince the Five Towers to accept our request to make the Font available to us. No small task to begin with, as we first needed to petition them to even hear our case.

We drew easy support from the Towers of Earth and Nature...thanks to he who was Veldrin.  Water consented on the word of the other two. Air and Fire, grudgingly consented.  Though I care little for why...only that we were granted an audience to make our case.

Like the rest of Voltrex that we saw, the Tower of Nature was an unbelievable place, both inside and out.  We met with the Speaker of Nature, and the other four towers spoke and listened through magical means that crossed the distances between the towers.

We spoke to them of what we knew and why we needed access to the Font.  We tried to make them believe what they thought to be myth. We tried to make them understand that our failure spells doom for all, even on their precious island.

We put forth what we knew, and yet they demanded proof. So we put forth proof...and in that effort, Kat and I were nearly struck down by our own song.

Katrien called upon the Gems of Sound, to bring forth the guardian in hopes that it would speak before the Towers.  In my desperation, I called upon the Gems of Shadow.  Before I took them from their pouch, I felt a distant call from them.  I removed them from their pouch and closed my hand around them.  

The change was instant.  The color drained from my hand, turning white, then bluish.  The effect spread rapidly and I collapsed.

What a fool I was, to think I could make any use of such artifacts.  And yet, the guardian came forth, but he did not stay, for I was not of Shadow.  But it did not matter...for Katrien was successful.  The guardian spoke, and confirmed our tale.

In the end, our efforts were not in vain, because the Towers voted to accept our request...though on four conditions.  Two we accepted without hesitation.  One we found preferable to the alternative.  But the last...the last may turn out to be a price greater than we expected.

Nevertheless, we have what we need.  The ends often justify the means...but will I still think that when the last condition must be satisfied?

One thing still puzzles me.  When I collapsed, the Gems of Shadow gripped in my cold hand, I saw a pair of familiar red eyes....HIS eyes.  A weak voice spoke in my mind....HIS voice.  I do not know how, but when I called upon the Shadows, HE answered.

[Dorganath]

Another task for Ozlo. Another chance to visit Voltrex.  Another chance to stand before the Speaker of the Tower of Nature.  Though this time I did not speak as before....which was a relief.  Instead, I stood in the back and translated what was said in elvish to those in our party who did not understand.  The words of elves have always sounded in my ears, and I have been able to understand them, though I couldn't read a word of it if I tried...and all attempts to speak it on my own have been largely disastrous.  I have Lalaith's promise to teach me, but with events being what they have been...
 
Anyway, I whispered the translations to the others, so that they may understand what was happening.  It was difficult to both listen and speak at the same time.  I hope I got everything....and got it right.
 
We...delivered a dream to the Speaker.  I have really no idea why it was important, but it seemed to have something to do with the task set before us by the Speaker.  We needed to right an old wrong.  Ages ago, a young wild elf betrayed his own people and dropped the defenses of their city.  For his betrayal, he was cursed with undeath and held dominion over the ruins of Ovdear.  When at last we gained access to the ruins, we were beset by hoards of undead, the likes of which I have never seen...both in strength and number. It was as if all of the fallen dead from that battle long ago had risen up to oppose us...and have us join their ranks.
 
It was a long battle just to reach the lowest levels of the ruins...and then, we faced the Betrayer himself.  He uttered the words of a prophecy, before assaulting our group with the full force of his fury.  He put up quite a fight, but in the end we prevailed.  
 
And with this Betrayer down, my thoughts turn again to another...one whose betrayal is far more recent...whose deception still lingers in the air....and whose task for the Council still lies before him.  Against my better judgment, I sought aid from...an associate of his...a priestess who shares the mark that many of us now possess.  I had hoped she would see the wisdom of keeping this betrayer from his task or at least delay him a bit.  I had hoped I could appeal to her sense of duty to her dark lord, and to serving only one master instead of two.  I had hoped that she would see that this betrayer's success would end in her own failure to her god.
 
Bah!  What did I really expect?  The darkness in her soul blinds her to the realities the Drow bring. But as is typical with those who make dark deals with dark gods and Councils of unimaginable evil, their thoughts are only of themselves.  They see nothing but their own plans and what is right in front of their faces.
 
Fools!  Every one of them. *ink blot*

[Dorganath]

They have always graced my dreams.  Fantastic creatures. Unimaginably old, intelligent, wise, powerful, fearsome.  On great leathery wings they soared the skies of my unconscious mind.  The earth trembled beneath me as they walked.  The very air trembles from their voices.

Yet my waking mind has only seen a dragon a single time....that is until another trip to Ozlo.  Four gems, obtained from Voltrex, were delivered to Ozlo.  I do not know what transpired in his chambers, but Plenarius and Quintayne were given an amulet, which they carried between them.

What happened next was nothing short of wonderous.

We ended up in a void of the deepest blackness I've seen, broken only by two stone platforms and a path between them. On one of the platforms was a doorway or portal of some kind.  Plen and Quint used the amulet, somehow, to activate the portal and again, we were somewhere else.

This new place was...nearly beyond description.  The place was permeated by a serene beauty, a calm like no other I had experienced.  The song of the place spoke the same.  Wherever this place was, I am quite certain we were no longer on Layonara.

As fantastic as the sights were, another more fantastic one awaited...a silver dragon.  I stared in awe like some kind of fool...it was all I could do. It guarded the gate to a great cavern.  It referred to us as "keepers" and we had some...task to do to prove ourselves...or something...I admit, I was only half-listening.

Inside the cavern was nothing short of amazing.  Metallic dragons of every type filled the cavern...bronze, copper, silver and gold.  Old ones, young ones...even eggs.  This is where they have been since they left!  It must be!  

The dragons all slept.  Our attempts to wake them, which were perhaps foolish, did not succeed.  

The Weave was gone from this place.  That much I knew with every fiber in my being.  Perhaps that is what kept them safe from their enemies all this time.  Perhaps this is why they sleep.  And yet, the fire in my blood, the one I have felt since I could remember, was burning hotter than ever.  Still, my magic would not come.  The Weave was gone from this place, but I did not feel empty. What could this mean?

The amulet that Plen and Quint held seemed to awaken the eggs...to stir them from their slumber.  It was guessed that these eggs were the goal of our task.  We moved them outside and brought them before the silver one. I could swear it smiled...can dragons smile?

Once again in awe, I stared at this creature as it spoke to us...something about these young ones aiding us...I think.  And then blackness...and we were gone.

My vision cleared, and we stood before an enormous tree in some forest I have not yet seen. Blackness again, and we stood in some fearful dungeon.  The evil and power in this place was terrifying.  I wanted to leave as quickly as possible.  Blackness yet again...and we stood in the dreadful port of Arabel, where this all started.

Was it all a dream?  I thought so.  But the clouds in Arabel parted just long enough to see them....dragon hatchlings, taking to the sky...their calls ushering in a new era.  The gloom of Arabel soon returned, and I knew it was no dream.

*ink blot*

Lalaith was along on this journey.  Indeed she was far more involved than I was.  It was the first time I had seen her in weeks...since she ran out of a gathering to discuss what we knew about the drow and their plans. To this day, I do not know what I said or did to make her leave, but she has kept herself hidden from me.  I could tell she was upset, and let her come to me first...but she did not....

She used to trust me.  I suppose I cannot blame her...still, I wish she'd have more faith in those who care for her...in her family.  But, I guess she will come when she is ready.

I'll give her time...it is all I can do.  Her gifts with Shadow are strong, and she will not be seen if she does not wish it.

[Dorganath]

Some months ago, Kobal told me a story of the soul of a girl, and elf, offered up to the Council.  This girl was murdered many years ago, her death came at the hands of a certain Drow assassin. Only recently was her soul offered up to the Council, and apparently at  the will of the child herself.  Quite unusual.  According to Kobal, the Council seemed elated at the gift, and yet when it was given, the Council’s shadow presence seemed to be dispelled…quite hastily and apparently against their will.
  Kat and I found each other in Krandor one night.  We started discussing her songs and how they can have effects…almost like magic.  I let her practice on me a bit in her attempts to form some sort of protective magics with her song.  The results were…not ideal, but certainly showed signs that she could accomplish such goals with practice and focus, We also talked about the incident with the girl.  It seems the mother of the child and her family lived in Krandor as well.  We decided to search the graveyard for the grave of this child.
  We eventually located a grave that could very well have been that of the child, though the stone was written in elvish, and still such writing evades my grasp.  There was something unusual about it, however….namely that the grave felt….empty.
  As we observed, a shimmering ball of light appeared over the grave. It made sounds like chimes in the night air and…in our heads.  It seemed like…like a language of some sort, though one we could not quite comprehend, at least not in specific terms.  It seemed like a gateway of some sort or a memory…or perhaps both.
  We played to it, notes of friendship and inquiry.  It responded with images of a river, its waters flowing, but polluted and tainted near the source. Long did the images flow from the sphere’s music...though we could only speculate at their meaning, and the images were anything but pleasant and reassuring. The music eventually ended, but the chimes in our minds remained.  
  On speculation, I lifted my instrument once more and repeated the sounds of the chimes.  What opened before me surprised me with its abruptness and tangibility.  I was in a house, the home of what seemed to be this elf mother, her stomach swollen in pregnancy, and her husband.  Kat must have done the same thing, because she appeared with me in short order.  I could see and hear the sights and sounds of this house.  The details of the scene are less important than the overall picture; this was the mother and father of the elf girl who was murdered…whose soul would eventually be offered to the Council…and they fought over how to protect their unborn child.
  The scene advanced forward in time.  This time, instead of witnessing a fight between husband and wife, we bore witness to the brutal murder of this child at the hands of that Drow assassin.

To say it was unpleasant is beyond understatement. Yet, we know now that if we can, we should find this woman and speak to her…if she still lives.

[Dorganath]

Sometimes I wonder how we’re supposed to join together in a common cause against Blood when all we can seem to do is form factions that keep us apart…that keep us fighting amongst ourselves.  I don’t know what to think of some of these factions, especially the one that seems to be actively seeking out magic they don’t like…and attempting to destroy it.  Destroy magic…it makes no sense.  They might as well unravel the Weave one strand at a time.  And to think I called some of those people my friends.
  And then…my association with members of that group has brought me under suspicion from other friends…friends who I’d rather not be suspicious of me at all.
  Bah…what does it matter… this group hides itself in secrecy, working toward ends that it has no chance of ever attaining.  Even if such a goal were possible, it would never be permitted.  I think they chose the wrong target…that they focus on the means rather than those who use that means for ill purposes. 
  Perhaps someone will help them to see the truth, but that someone will not be me.  I will not get involved in this…not directly…not yet.  I have too many alliances, too many plans that need the assistance of others. 
  Bridges will be burned by mistrust, but I will not be carrying that torch.

[Dorganath]

Today was a good day.  No, it was a great day.   An old friend, Duradin Fireaxe, has returned…his obligation to whatever dwarven military brigade now complete.  The years away in battle have tempered his demeanor, but not his resolve.  Though it seems we do not have the time we once had to travel together, still, it is very good to know he is back with us, among those called by the Dragon.

[Dorganath]

Small changes, small actions can have significant results.  Such are the words of philosophers and sages, prophets and seers. So are we all told to believe, that like a pebble thrown into a pond, the ripples spread across the surface, so that the effects of that pebble are felt everywhere.
  But what then of major events? What then of our labors that span the course of years? Should not their ripples be greater?  The events of the last few years have seen the returning of the Great Library, the returning of metallic dragons and a few other events of major significance, and yet…what effect have they had?  Where are the ripples?  A curious area near a place called Bone Hill *written in the margin: “truth in naming”*, sometimes referred to as a place of prophecy, now shows a few lights where there were none before…a few chess pieces move around the board, each side hoping for an advantage.  What does it all mean?  And who…or what…is making these changes?
  And then there’s the bridges…Deep in the Serpent Isles, near the home of the Firstborn and the Tol who gave them life, another bridge now stands. We labor to defeat Blood, to gather every resource and advantage we can.  We labor for months…even years…toward an end of significance, and what do we see for our efforts?  Some glowing statues and some wooden bridges on a remote island.
  I suppose there’s some meaning there...And I suppose we’re not supposed to know what that meaning is just yet.  That would be too easy.
  Still, while viewing the bridges, I gazed across the chasm toward the former home of the Tol.  Shrouded in mist its secrets remain closely guarded.  I do not know if it was in my mind or not, but I heard something there as well…a calling of sorts…a song of subtlety and power alike.  Was this the song of the Cradle?  Or perhaps something else….
  My sister was there…Lalaith.  I did not avoid her, but did not press the issue of contact.  We spoke only briefly…on matters of little or no personal meaning.  Once back in Port Hampshire, though, she approached me to speak more directly.  Owen and Iradril were there…very unusual Drow, they are.  Genuinely polite, helpful, respectful, concerned for others…Most of all, they have been friends to Lalaith, at a time when she avoided my friendship.  It seems I have Owen to thank for this talk as well, for without him….
  We spoke.  Lalaith and I.  I explained about the journal from Veldrin, why I kept it from her, why I did not tell her. I think she understands. I wish I could just hand it to her, for I know more than almost anyone else how badly she wished to read it and learn the mind of her husband.  Yet that is the one thing I could not do..for several reasons.  Perhaps one day…when this is over.  Until then, she seems to accept my pledge to share what I learn within its covers.  And as she has once before, she will become my teacher again, this time to learn the language of my ancestry…or at least part of it…The language of elves, a language which has rung in my ears for many years, though I cannot seem to form the words or read the written script. Long ago she made the offer.  It is time to accept. I have put it off for too long. *in the margin is drawn an image of an engraved sun*
  I have not yet opened the journal of Veldrin.  I have thought about it several times, but each time, I stayed my hand and replaced the journal in my pack.  Perhaps the time was not right…perhaps soon.

[Dorganath]

An alliance of users of arcane magics…what an odd idea.  A place of learning, creating, studying…a place to grow in one’s use of the arcane.  But what use is that to one like me?  When I first heard the idea, I thought it comical…a pointless waste of time and efforts…an exclusive club for wizards and their dusty books and scholarly pursuits.  But then Master Elinmire, my friend, asked me something I could not simply dismiss.  He asked me to be a part of this Alliance, not as a simple member but to be there at the inception…to sit on an initial Council.  Immediately, I was intrigued. For him, I would accept.
  And now it seems his duties and obligations take him far away, and I have not seen him since, yet my word to him remains.  And now the Alliance is forming. Tathnolu and Lia make up the Grand Council along with Elinmire.  I sit on the Arcane Council with Brisbane and.. *several names are written and scratched out here*.
 
  This feels odd…I don’t normally do well within such ordered environments.  Titles give me hives, and yet I have one now.  I have even volunteered to teach…Me!  In a position of authority!  The thought is astounding to me.  But my word was given, and my word will be kept.  I’ll see where this goes and take things as they come.
 
  Recently, I’ve been sent to negotiate trade with another Guild…an arrangement of raw materials and finished goods.  I suppose they went well enough. Time will tell.  These kinds of things still make me…uncomfortable.
 

[Dorganath]

Shadison….this name above all others so far still causes my blood to boil.  For that this god represents, for the events that brought it back to our skies, for the deception and the unfortunate part I played in all of that….*ink blot*
  I learned of an expedition to travel to Shadison’s temple ruins, as a few of us did several years ago, to learn what we could from it…and perhaps learn some way to combat this god and wipe it once more from our skies. I was eager to join that expedition, which was led by that unusual elf cleric known as Reventage. I signed up immediately.
 
  The road to the temple was difficult…and the temple itself was even worse.  We fought through many subterranean levels of snakes, medusas and the devout of Shadison. Fierce was their opposition to our intrusion...too fierce.  We started taking heavy losses, and the strain to the healers in the group was starting to take its toll.  We decided to turn back and return another day in greater force.  It’s unfortunate, because I feel we were nearing the bottom of these ruins, and nearing the clues we would need.  Alas, it was not to be this time.

[Dorganath]

Old friends are a curious lot.  One can go for weeks, months, even years between seeing such, and yet the bonds formed long ago are still as strong as they were.  Over the last many weeks, an old friend I once knew as Serenity, but now as Eldárwen, has made her presence felt more strongly in my life once more.  Perhaps it is a coincidence of circumstance, but it seems like there is more.  And of course, she is a very high-ranking Lucindite priestess, and such clergy always has my attention and respect.
  She has spoken to me of strange stories, tasks, plans, schemes of others and the need for vigilance and action.  On a recent night, she bore both good news and ill news.  The latter has made me question my actions of late…to question certain associations.  Great Mother what have I gotten myself into now?  As if I don’t have enough to worry about. Still, she brought some good news, some strange news, and a story I’m still not sure I fully comprehend.
 
  Word must be getting out about me and the lengths I will go for my friends.  This was no exception, though I do not feel my willingness and word of bond is being abused. Besides a request of vigilance in a matter involving *name written and inked out completely*, there are two personal favors she has asked of me.  Two challenges for me to address.  One I can draw upon my experiences, as it involves another user of magic like me…one strong in her gifts already, though lacking in experience and knowledge.  The other favor…I’m not sure what I can do…it is a subject quite foreign to me. But, I suppose I won’t know until I try.
 
  And of course…everything is a secret.

[Dorganath]

I really need to be more cautious when agreeing to help people.  Truly, I do.  Some nights ago, I was visited by hundreds of little…I’m not sure whats. *a note in the margin written later says: insane pixies* They swirled around my room and eventually swarmed on me, slamming into me with a magical discharge of electricity.  As they did, I heard a voice..the voice of Eldárwen’s mother…saying “this should help”.  By Lucinda…I would hate to see what she’d do to hurt.
  I’ve been spending a lot of time on Dregar of late, taking the time to gather supplies and explore while attending to Eldárwen’s requests.  I see her infrequently, so I’ve started leaving progress notes at her home, and she in turn has left notes for me.  It’s a slow system but it seems to work. One note in particular was especially intriguing, for it seemed to be written not of ink but magic.  A most unusual letter this was.  *in the margin is a sketch of a ring engraved with elvish runes and a unicorn*
    I met up with Eldárwen by chance in Saudiria again as I made my way toward Hurm.  I had information for her on a couple of matters, and though I had written most of them down for her already, the face-to-face conversation was more valuable.  While we spoke by the ocean, her other “favor” showed up.  We all spoke about some things that drifted to topics that probably should not be discussed in the open.  Before we could move on, however, we caught sight of a winged, evil-looking female creature walked by and into the desert. Eldárwen realized she had somewhere else to be, but left us with some parting gifts, protection and enhancement spells of every stripe that she could muster.
    We set off to track this creature, my eyes seemed to be especially keen with the aid of Eldárwen’s magic. *written in the margin: some of these I must figure out myself* The shifting sands of the desert made things difficult, but we followed the trail south to an oasis where many giants live.  At that point, the trail vanished, as if the creature we trailed simply flew off.  I double-checked the tracks to be sure, and as I did, a cloaked figure walked by us and south toward the Black Hills. We tried to pursue, but the torrential rain in the hills obscured any trail we might follow.  I did not recognize the figure though he seemed somewhat familiar. I now believe this figure may have been Drezneb, that is if I can trust in the accuracy of Ozy’s sketches.
  We crossed paths with Seteece in the hills, and after some discussion we all headed for Pranzis, where I made a report to the King on what I had seen…which was admittedly not much, but perhaps his advisors can make some sense of it.

[Dorganath]

Once again, I find myself so consumed with my travels, my work and my research that I seem to miss major events and the return of old friends.  Tonight, I ran into Mara and Sand near the High Forest on my way to gather some aloe.  Mara asked me the strangest question…she asked if I had seen Quin yet.
  Quin….Quin Cromwell.  A man dead now for several years, his heart ripped out by a demon, or so goes the tale.  I could not believe it when I heard, and even a proper funeral was never had, but still, I knew in my heart he was gone.
    And now, Mara tells me he’s back.  I was not amused, but she claimed she could prove it.  So I followed her to Leilon to a place called the Leilon Arms. My old friend Derrick stood outside letting people in…I could swear at that point this was some kind of dream.  Quin alive, Derrick playing doorman…
    We entered a large common room, and there he was, amongst the crowd.  Even more so, he was part owner of this venture it seems.  And still I did not believe, and I do not think I would have, had Kat not been there and told me it was him.  Had she not been there, I might have been inclined to cut him open to uncover the trickery at work.
    But he stood there, and we spoke briefly of his return.  As strongly as I knew he was gone, I knew too that this was truly Quin, my old friend.
    But I do not know if I can trust this.  Something doesn’t seem right.  The dead do not simply return after years of death.  

[Dorganath]

Kat and I found each other in Krandor again, sitting by the water near the graveyard.  Our conversation turned to the elf mother and the soul of her child.  We stayed a while, hoping to see if she’d come by and visit the grave of her daughter.  Instead, we received a visit from someone else.
  Out of the shadows stepped a Drow assassin…though not just any assassin.  This was Vas'menier Lairilweki, the mother of Veldrin and Lar.  She taunted us with her purpose: to erase the past as she should have done long ago.  She meant to finally murder the elf mother and be finished with her line once and for all…her usefulness now gone due to the child that Katrien now carries, in all likelihood.  And of course she gloated over the fact that she knew where the elf mother had gone and we did not.  It seems she left town a month or two ago…vanished, right under our noses.
  And of course there was the usual volley of insults and boastfulness typical of such Drow.  Predictable.  I do not know if I was simply persuasive or if she had another motive for this, but I got her to reveal the destination of the elf mother and her husband…Lannisport.  With that, the assassin stepped back into the shadows and left, claiming that once she arrived in Lannisport, they’d both perish.
  The word of a Drow such as she cannot always be trusted, so we took a few minutes to inquire around Krandor.  Luck was with us, because we found the wagonmaster who moved their belongings, and he confirmed the destination.  He also told us that another woman asked about this mother and her whereabouts.  By the description and what other clues the wagonmaster offered, we recognized this woman as Lithany.  What purpose does she serve, I wonder.
  But now, we were behind…by how much we could not know.  With all haste, we made for Port Hampshire, where I had hoped to book passage directly to Lannisport.  An unusual request to be sure, but time was critical. The result was something beyond my greatest expectations.  A salty, one-legged sea captain named “Fat Jack” brought us with great haste to Lannisport on a remarkable ship called the Unicorn.  She was fast…faster than anything I’ve seen before.  And the cost of this passage…nothing.  One of his men, though, pointed out the ring I wore, the ring from Eldárwen.  I am now even more curious about this thing.  What other secrets does it hold?
  After some inquiries, we found the elf mother and her husband.  She held an infant in her arms, a baby girl named Ariàne, which apparently means “gift”.  As we started to talk to her, she realized why we had come.  We warned her of the coming danger, that the assassin knew where she was, and that she was not safe.  Our conversation turned to other warnings she had received.  As she told the tale, much from our experiences and research suddently became clear.  Questions were answered, though they left new questions in their wake. As her story drew to a close, a commotion by the door to their new home rose.  We looked over to see Vas’menier striking down the elf woman’s husband.  Quickly, I wrapped the magic of invisibility around the woman and she ran.  Before we could think any further, Lithany appeared in the home in a most spectacular manner.  And she did battle with the Drow assassin, and likely would have defeated the Drow assassin had she not run off when her wounds got too severe.
  With the battle over, Lithany warned us that we needed to get the woman out of here…something we already planned to do.  And then she turned and left as she came. I do not know whether to count this Lithany as an ally, a rival or an enemy, but at least this time, she helped our purpose.
  When things had quieted down, the elf woman came up to us, the magics keeping her unseen now expiring.  We bade that she take only what she can carry, and to leave immediately.  We suggested she make for Voltrex if she can, and once there to seek the Tower of Nature. It’s my hope she can find some safety there, and a haven in which to raise her daughter. I once more wrapped the cloak of invisibility around her and told her to flee.  I pray Lucinda keeps her and her infant safe long enough to escape her would-be assassin.
  *a line is drawn across the page.  The following was written at a later time.  The handwriting reflects slower, more pensive writing*
  She…came to see us.  She wanted to see these surfacers with whom her sons had been so taken.  I do not fully understand the ways of the Drow, or the twisted mentality that drives them to act as they do…but some things she said caught me off-guard.
  Despite the wickedness and pain of the purge, somehow Veldrin still maintains a tie to me, even in the harsh Underdark.  He has spoken to her about me…I do not know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.  It makes me think that Veldrin, the Veldrin we knew, is still there somewhere.  But perhaps that is foolish, and this link is merely a side effect of the Gift from Veldrin. *written in the margin: She knew about that, too*
  Stranger still, she made me an offer…an offer to join with them and aid their cause…to aid the cause of the Council. My first reaction was one of humor and disbelief.  How amusing an idea, how ludicrous the prospect.  But she continued, and my heart wondered.  They can teach me, she said…teach me to make the fullest use of my gifts…sorcery and Sound.  My reward would be life, dominion, and admittance into her House.
  Can I trust this Drow? What good is the word of a Drow assassin…the matron of her House.  Why wouldn’t this all be a ruse to remove me from contention? But why not simply kill me?
  She answered that question for me. She makes such an offer for Veldrin and Veldrin alone, as binding me to the Council would further cement his own devotion as well. Though I cannot help but suspect there is more.  I cannot accept her words simply at face value.
  This offer should not intrigue me, but it does. What she told me of Veldrin also intrigues me.  I cannot help but wonder… *ink blot*
  The elf mother’s tale spoke of the doom that awaited her, as a descendent of the Gifted.  It spoke of the Three and their descent into darkness.  Perhaps it is the fate of all who bear the Gifts to end in darkness