The Journals of Connor Garvill

[Dorganath]

[SIZE=13]* the writing is hurried, but very legible * [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]"If you want to remember something, write it down." -- Arthur Garvill [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]Not very original advice, and certainly not a saying of his own making, but it is perhaps one of the truer bits of wisdom my father...my adoptive father, that is...ever gave. I wish of all times I would have heeded his advice after I arrived here in this strange place called Layonara. More has happened to me in these few months than in my entire life up until this point. Before I forget anymore, I must put these thoughts down in my journal. [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]Where to start...Perhaps, at the beginning. [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]I guess I've been different all my life. I was the only orphan in my home village of Osterhaf, which was within the protection of King Althain VII on the northern continent of a world called....curses! I have forgotten the name of my world already. It may come to me in time. I do remember it was some word in an ancient, forgotten tongue which meant "ground" or "rock" or something silly like that. Anyway... The people I called my parents, the ones who raised me, were a human couple named Arthur and Elaia Garvill. My father was a woodsman. Made furniture and homes for people. We lived right outside of town along the main road. They always wanted a child, but it never worked out for them. My coming to them was something of a blessing, despite the fact that I quite obviously wasn't their true child. [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]Which brings me to another reason I was different...slightly pointed ears...like the Elves.  Elves were things of stories, of legend, of fables. In truth, no one had really ever seen one, and it caused people to be suspicious of me, to fear me....though out of respect for my father, they were rarely hostile. I grew my hair out a bit to cover the tips of my ears. It kept the questions to a minimum....questions I could not answer. I can only assume that I am half-elven, because I do not carry all the markers and traits of elves. I don't really know, however, as there are precious few clues to my true ancestry.(note in margin: be sure to include what I do know later) [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]A third thing I discovered at an age early enough to really scare me. I found that I could do things that other people could not. One day...night actually...darker than most. I was about 13 years old at the time. There was no moon and the stars were obscured by clouds. It was cold, and I always had more trouble seeing in the dark when it was cold. I had returned home before my parents and I was looking for a lantern so I could see well enough to light a fire. I found the lantern alright, hanging in its spot next to the door, but I could not find a sparker (a special rock and a rough piece of metal....flint and steel they call it here) to light it. So after the third or forth time that I banged my shin on the furniture, I remember thinking how nice it would be once I got that light. As the thought passed my mind, I felt something roll over me...through me even. [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]And before I knew what was going on, the lantern flared to light. But it was not burning, it was just giving off light. "How extrordinary" I remember thinking...right before I realized the enormity of what had just happened and dropped the lantern in a panic and ran from my home. After a while, several minutes, an hour, not really sure...I caught my breath and went back in the house. There was the lantern, on the rug, still giving off light and yet cool to the touch. Cautiously, I picked up the lantern and convinced myself that there was nothing really to fear. I used the light, located a sparker and some tinder, then built a fire in the hearth to warm the chill night. [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]I debated whether or not I should tell my parents of this. I wasn't really sure how it happened, if I had done it or if I could even do it again. But I could not conceal it, for my father returned home while the lantern still glowed. To my amazement he did not seem surprised by this at all. We talked at length about what had happened. That night, he told me two things. First, I must be careful and not let anyone else see me do that, if I can help it at all. Second, he told me of the night I was found by them.... But I will need to continue this another time. [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]My hand is cramping and I am tired. [/SIZE]

[Dorganath]

* a line is drawn across the journal page and the following writing appears below*

Where did I leave off...Oh yes....the night I was found.

It was a dark night in the spring. My parents had (at the time) a lodge deeper into the woods. On night, while my parents relaxed by the fire, the calm night air was pierced by a resounding explosion (their description) and a blinding flash of light. By the time my father had pulled on his boots and coat, the light had dimmed to a dull glow in the distance. My father ran in the direction of the glow, with my mother falling behind. The glow was a circle of trees and underbush with the last flickers of a dying fire within the circle, all the tree trunks were blackened on one side. At the center of this circle lay an infant...me....completely untouched and unharmed. A few feet away were the charred and unrecognizable remains of....someone. The clothing, flesh and possessions of whoever it was were burned beyond recognition, though its form was recognizably humanoid. They picked me up and took me home with them. The next day, my father went out the the area and examined it closely. The charred area where I was found made an almost perfect circle. Besides partially burned underbrush and trees, there was nothing at the site. Even the remains of the body they saw the night before were gone.

So, they took me in as their own and never treated me as anything different than their own flesh and blood.

I asked my father what that story had to do with my new-found ability to produce light without flame or spark.  He replied, "Son, I honestly do not know.  But I do not believe in coincidence."

I had seen such tricks before.  Traveling bards would sometimes augment their stories with a show of lights for added effect.  And of course, there were wizards...who were somewhat rare in my part of the world (my old world, that is).  A strange bunch they were, with their bags of foul-smelling powders, their musty old books with strange writing.  They were masters and commanders of this things called magic.  Producing light was just one of their many tricks.

But I am no bard.  I could not carry a tune in a bucket, they used to say of me.  And I am no wizard.  I have looked at their books, tried to understand their ways, even sought instruction from a wizard once when I was older, but none of it every made much sense to me.  I learned to read their magic writings, but as soon as I would, the words would leave my mind. And yet, I could still bring forth light by willing it into being.

I eventually "learned" (in much the same way I "learned" to produce light) how to light a fire without spark or tinder.  That came in very useful to be sure.  That was about the extent of what I could do, regardless of how hard I tried. Always, though, I felt like there was something more, but I could not reach it.

After some thought, I suppose it's worth mentioning that there's a fourth way in which I was different, though it didn't seem like anything special to me. This difference was one of dreams.

Everyone has dreams, or so I'm told.  And every night, they are new and different.  Some are scary, some are pleasant.  Some seem no different than our waking times, and some are anything but real.  In this regard, I am no different. But whatever dreams I had, they always had one thing about them that was the same.  Before I knew what they were, I would dream of creatures. Fantastic creatures they were.  Large, colorful beasts.  Some glistened like metal in all its hues.  Others were like the colors in a garden...bright and vibrant.  They were huge...able to swallow a man whole.  They had 4 legs with rapier-sharp talons, teeth like daggers, great wings that would blot out the sun as they flew the skies.  There were hundreds of them....thousands of them.  Sometimes I would just watch them, other times I could talk to them.  On a few rare occasions, I was one of them, flying with them. Whether my dreams showed me one or a thousand of those creatures, every dream contained them.

As I grew older and listened to the old stories, I learned what these creatures were called.

Drachh in the old tongue.

Dragons.

Despite the reputation of these creatures, these dreams never gave me fright.  And yet, as extrordinary as such dreamings are, one in particular stands out.

I'm in a forest grove.  Before me is an ancient dragon, the color of polished gold.  He spoke to me of a need, and he asked me to help with that need.  In my dreams, I had never denied a dragon's request, and I wasn't going to start now.  He told me to walk down a path, and I did.  I emerged at the end of the path in a strange, new place.

Hlint it's called by the locals....centrally located on the western continent of Mistone, on the world of Layonara...wherever that is.  No place I had ever heard of, that's for sure.

I remember thinking, "Well, this is different."  I felt as though I was awake, though I must still be dreaming.  I did not know this place, yet the air, the people, the sounds were all clear and unique.  I touched the grass, and it was still wet from the morning dew. I stood beside a temple with gleaming white granite pilars reaching up into the sky, glistening in the early day's sun.

The sun...I caught myself staring at this sun...the color was all wrong...and I looked away as I realized what I was doing.  A good way to go blind that is.

I turned myself around, blinked to clear the sun spots from my eyes.....and tripped over a dwarf with half a face....

[Dorganath]

I don't know if it was my sudden impact with the ground or the dwarf's coarse, gravelly voice, but it was at that moment that I realized that this was no dream.

"Ye better watch wot yer doin' there, Skinny, er by Vorax oi'll be findin' a new place ta keep me axe blade!!!!"

I sat there on the ground, in wonder, barely hearing the dwarf.  I tried to talk, but my jaw just flapped on its own without uttering a word.

"Well?!?!?  Ya just gonna sit there an act all stupid loike, er are ya gonna git outa me way?"

I stood up and somehow found the composure to speak, "I'm sorry, sir.  I did not see you there..." I started

"Yer darned right ya didn't," he replied.

I reached in my pocket and felt a few pieces of gold.  "Tell you what.  Let me buy you an ale to make up for it."

The dwarf looked at me through his one good eye, grumbled under his breath and finally said, "Alright, Skinny....never let it be said that Duradin Fireaxe turned down free ale!" and then let out a laugh that was both disturbing and contagious at the same time.  I laughed with him for a moment and then realized he was staring at me again with that one good eye.  Well?!?!?" he said.  "What're ya waitin' fer, Skinny?"

I looked around, lost, and finally spoke, "Um, I'm not sure where to find an inn...."

The dwarf let out a grunt of exasperation, turned and motioned for me to follow.

And so we sat for hours in the Wild Surge Inn, consuming ale after ale.  We spoke of our homes and our past...and how we came to this place.  After some time had passed, the dwarf got up, clasped a stong hand on my shoulder, looked me in the eye and said, "Yer alright, Skinny, e'en though ya look loike ye could ne hold an axe loike moine without breakin' yer arm." He picked up his last tankard of ale, toasted with mine and drank it down (what didn't spill down his beard, that is) and slammed it on the table.  "See ya, 'round." he said, and he turned and left.  I finished my ale, pushed myself up and stumbled outside.  The light from the now mid-day sun nearly blinded me again and I almost fell off the steps of the inn.  I caught by balance, walked (more like stumbled) around back of the inn, found a tree by the pond there and promptly fell asleep in its shade.

* a double line is drawn across the page *

Now I remember why I never took my father's advice about writing things down....I tend to be very wordy when I write.  I must endeavor to be brief in the future, or I will forever lose the use of my hand for any other purpose but to hold a pen.

* a double line is drawn across the page *

[Dorganath]

Besides running into Duradin Fireaxe, quite literally, upon my arrival, I immediately noticed a change in me, though it was difficult to understand at first....especially through the haze of ale...and the headache that followed.

The times when I created light or flame I felt like I reached out and touched something, and that touch brought forth an energy and from this energy I formed light. Now, in this place called Layonara, I felt the touch of that...something...all the time.  Or perhaps it was just much closer than before and the effort needed to reach it was much, much less...almost to where there was no effort at all.  I have since learned that this "something" is known as The Weave, and it is the source of all magic.  The Weave is formed...for lack of a better word...by a goddess named Lucinda, who is also known as the Mother of All Magic.  Magic, it seems, is produced by the manipulation of this Weave.  What a fantastic idea.  

I've learned a little about myself, as well. Those who, like me, can command magic without books or study are known as "Sorcerers". I guess that's as good of a name as anything, but the important thing is, I no longer have to hide this from anyone.  The use of magic here seems to be quite commonplace and is not feared.  I miss my home, but I may end up liking this place.

I recall wondering, though, why I was here.  The dragon called me, I accepted, but there has been very little else.  I've gathered something about a man named "Bloodstone" and his dark armies...something about generals and Rifts and Blood Wells.  Oh, it's all too much to take in right now.

But, I suppose I have plenty of time for that.  I've been experimenting with my magic...yes, I suppose I can call it that now openly...and I find that light and flame are much, much easier now.  And there's more.  I can douse a fire with a ray of cold....and a few other tricks.  I've used mor magic in the last few days than in the 30-some years of my life up until that point.  I find, though, that it does require some effort, and after a time of summoning magics, I need to rest a bit before I can attempt it again.

The dreams continue, even in this place, which means that this is certainly no dream but a new reality for me.  This is, for better or worse, my new home.

[Dorganath]

I never had any siblings growing up.  Friends, yes.  Siblings, no.  Since my arrival here, it seems I have gained a brother of sorts....and of all the unlikey people.

It seems I cannot avoid this dwarf....Fireaxe. We went into the crypts in Hlint at the request of Erag.  We found down there an infestation of the undead. Terrible things, the undead.  Something about them tears at my soul.  The feel....wrong to me (besides the obvious walking dead aspect), but I cannot quite put the feeling into words.  Perhaps in time.

At any rate, Duradin would go ahead first, draw some walking bones toward us, then we'd both hit them.  He with his axe, me with a crossbow (yes, very ineffective against the undead, but it's all I had).  It worked pretty well.  I got in a few lucky shots, he cut through those dusty old bones like kindling.  Not bad, overall.  He doesn't think I noticed, but after every "kill", he got a look of annoyance, as if to wonder what he was doing with this weakling half-elf in such a nasty place.  I also think he took a secret joy from watching me struggle...

And so we continued...only sometimes Duradin rushes ahead a bit too much.  Before we knew it, there were more skeletons than we could handle efficiently....or safely.  Duradin held them as best he could, but one slipped by and headed straight for me.  I raised my crossbow and fired. The shot went wide, sticking in the far wall.  I fumbled to reload as the skeleton closed. I backed up, but still he closed.  10 yards, 9....8...I dropped the bolt I was loading....7...6...5...my foot caught on some rubble and I fell squarely on my backside, and another bolt flew from my shaking hands....4 yards...3...I take a shot, and it sticks....but the skeleton keeps coming as I struggle to stand again....2 yards, and he raises his sword....1 yard.....the sword falls to the ground as the skeleton is cleaved in two by the axe of a bloodied but strong Duradin.

Through his labored breathing, he laughs, "Har, Skinny!  Looks loike ya owes me one, eh?"  And as those words escaped his mouth, I saw behind him another skeleton, sword raised for the strike, closing far too fast.  Without thinking I raised my hand as blue energy gathered at my fingertips.  The look of smug satisfaction on Duradin's face was quickly replaced by one of bewilderment and shock...almost terror...as the ball of energy forming in my hand shot forth, passed over his shoulder and into the skull of the approaching skeleton.  The skeleton's skull fractured and fell about the floor as the blue energy struck.  The skeleton's sword clattered to the ground.

"No Shorty," I said to Duradin with a gleam in my eye.  "It looks like we're even!"  Again, he stared at me through his one good eye, and then erupted in laughter "Har!  Right ye be, lad!"

Later, when we were finished in the crypts, with the blood from our own wounds, Duradin and I swore an oath...a pact that bound us as "War Brothers," as he called it.  A brother.  It is a good thing to have.  Aye.

[Dorganath]

I had another waking dream of sorts.  And it contained a single dragon...of sorts, anyway.  It was small, about the size of a large bird.  It spoke a few words, but mostly in coos, purrs and chirps which I found I could understand quite easily to my surprise. It called to me, and I followed.  First, from far off, I could only see its form and movement.  I ran to reach it, but it was quick and seemed to enjoy the chase.

Through forests, caves and fields it flew and I ran. The sun rose and set, an as I broke into a small grove in some forest, I felt I could run no more.  So I stopped, built a small fire and nibbled on some dried food in my pack.  As I sat and stared at the fire, the flames took the form of this tiny dragon and then lept high into the air.  The dragon-flames circled and rose, higher and higher, passing in front of the moon before swooping down toward me with great speed and aim.

At this point, I was pretty concerned, and as I tried to stand an run, I lost my footing and fell to the ground. I managed to prop myself up to a sitting position just before the flame struck me.  As it struck, I blacked out.

When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was the throbbing on the back of my head.  The next was that my robes were untouched by flame. "That was some dream," I thought....until I saw the third thing.  The tiny dragon I had chased in my dream was curled up, asleep, at my feet.

I stared into the remains of the dying fire, the last few embers glowing softly in the early morning light.  "Ember," I said. The dragon awoke and purred happily at the sound of the word.  "Very well, I shall call you 'Ember'".  

With that, Ember and I put our heads down and fell back to sleep.

From that day forth, Ember has been a companion and protection whenever I need him.  Perhaps he was some sort of gift....from this goddess Lucinda, perhaps.  Who can say.  All I know is that he comes when I call, and I feel a loss when he is not around.

[Dorganath]

I've learned a few more "tricks" since I've been here.  Of course, when I say "learned" it's more like "found" or "discovered", as there is no real learning involved.

I've discovered I don't like dying too much.  This Bindstone device is wonderous, but I do not relish the trips back to it.  It is...draining somehow, and it seems to get worse with each successive visit.  I must endeavor to be more cautious

I've discovered a thing called Alchemy.  I'm not real good at it yet, but I find it fascinating...almost like magic in a bottle.  

I've discovered I can do some fantastic things, like summon forth fire on the blade of a weapon for a time, which does not harm the wielder, but which works wonders against the undead....and other foes.

I've discovered I can make myself vanish for a time, which is very handy at avoiding beasts who would certainly eat me alive without such illusion.

Then there's the blue ball of energy I discovered earlier.  I've learned how to release even more energy, which divides itself into multiple balls that all stream unerringly to my target.

I've discovered I'm rather handy with a crossbow.  Not great, but I do alright.  It's better than fighting with a dagger, that's for sure.

This is all very exciting.

[Dorganath]

I try.  I really do.  This place is very dangerous, but I do the best I can.  I've even tried to travel with other people as much as possible, for protection, but too often I find myself on the brink of death with no good way to defend myself.  A dagger is just about useless, and my crossbow doesn't function well at close range.

My frustration led me to wander around Hlint one day, feeling sorry for myself.  Without any real purpose at all, I wound up in a merchant hall talking to, of all things, a weapon vendor.  For whatever reason, a sword caught my eye.  A good sized one at that.  He called it a bastard sword. Something about its gleam and the lines of the blade caught my eye.  Before I realized it, I had layed down the gold to buy this sword.  I picked it up, felt its weight and removed it from its scabbard.  

To my surprise, it felt good.  Really good.  And yet, very clumsy at the same time.  I walked out with it and headed to Seilwood forest to try it out on the beetles that live there.  I needed some reagents for potions anyway, so I figured it would be a good place to start.  It didn't go as well as I would hoped, and I'll say that it was Ember who saved my life that day.  The sword was difficult to swing, but when I did strike, it made quite an impact.  I think I'll like this, but I'll need more practice to be sure.

Since this time, I have also bought myself a suit of leather armor for greater protection.  It's comforting, but I find it tends to interfere with my summoning of magics.  Not a lot, but sometimes.  That, I suppose, is the price I must pay for protection.  The robes are more comfortable, however, so I'll probably keep with them unless I need something stronger.

[Dorganath]

Well, I'm living proof that the only way to improve is to practice.

I'm getting better at making some simple potions. Much better, in fact.  I have more successes than failures these days, and that's a good thing.

I'm also getting better with that sword of mine.  I seem to have gotten stronger through exertion, and my blows are more confident, more effective.  

I've even learned how to shoot my crossbow at short range.  I dare say I'm even better at close range than at a more normal range for such a weapon.  Maybe that's just my enthusiasm talking.

Who knew combat could be so fun, so exilarating.  I spent about a day (maybe more) in the Broken Forest with an insane fighter named Derrick.  Together, we thinned the crop of undead (vile abominations!!!) that seem to sprout like weeds in that place.  We paused only to rest and resupply.  And I have recently traded in my old crossbow for one made of oak.  It's a bit harder to pull, but it strikes truer and more accurately.  This is a good thing, indeed.

[Dorganath]

I can't believe I almost forgot this event.  What a harrowing experience it was, perhaps I blocked it out.

I was travelling with a group to Lar in the Greypeak Mountains.  Along the way, we found ourselves facing a large number of ogres, who did not welcome our intrusion.  Someone ran ahead too quickly (I do not remember who...it matters not) and in doing so brought a small horde of ogres down upon the party.  About half of our number fell into death, and would have remained so were it not for the good fortune of a passing healer.  

This healer was a follower of Lucinda, and she raised our fallen companions on the condition that we all, living or dead, are now in the debt of Lucinda, and that one day we'll be called upon to repay this debt. I agreed immediately, both for my friends but for myself as well, for I have grown to believe more and more that my powers here are a direct result of Lucinda and this Weave of hers.

My father did not believe in coincidence, and neither do I.

[Dorganath]

Since I'm speaking of events of importance, I am also surprised I did not write of this sooner....

...of the night the sky rained fire.

Yes, fire.  I was walking back from the Seilwood Forest to Moraken's tower (where I practice my Alchemy) with some fresh ingredients for potions and such.  On my way there, I noticed streaming lights in the sky.  Quite impressive, really.  I had seen such things before in my home (wherever that is now...I do not know the way back) about 2-3 times each year.  But this was suddenly different.

The intensity grew, and these streaking lights became perilous balls of fire streaming down to the ground.  I thought for sure I would be struck down by one of these.  I made haste to the shelter of the tower.  After I had caught my breath, I focused on making some potions.  I had moderate success, if I recall.  On my way out, the ground shook.  I suddenly thought that it would be far riskier to remain indoors and have a tower fall on me than to take the chance of being stuck by fire from the heavens outdoors.  So, out I went, and I nearly tripped over a woman (a priestess, perhaps) knealing on the ground, bowing and talking of her god, that this was a sign from her god, and so forth.  I didn't quite get what was so special....until I looked at the sky.  The clouds had gathered and coalesced into a face.  This was no trick of light; the face was quite recognizable.  I do not know whose face it was, for the clouds swirled and dissipated as the rain of fire slowed, then stopped.

Whatever this truly was, I do not know.  But later that same evening, I was leaving Hlint when I ran into a group of people talking with Ozy, that strange elven bard, who seems older than the world some days.  I stopped to listen, hoping perhaps to find some information about the evening's events.  Before long, however, the group was attacked by all manner of infernal beasts. I helped to fight them off, though I have no illusions about my effectiveness.  The group then went into the forest to visit the Seilwood witch, who was nowhere to be found.  To make matters worse, there was a strange portal and bloody footprints in her home.  Even the oldest and most experienced among us had no idea what this all meant, but they hoped that Queen Allurial would know, as she and the Witch are sisters, apparently.

*written in the side margin* (The Queen.  I had so hoped to meet her)

Alas, after reaching Blackford Castle, we found that the Queen also was missing.  This could not be good.  As it turns out, the castle contains a temple to Lucinda, so we visited that, but her priestess did not know where she went either.

*written in the margin* (That name again....Lucinda)

I never did find out what all became of the night's events, or what happened to the Queen or her sister.  I do know that since then, I have seen the Queen, but I do not know where she went, when she came back or why she even left.  Perhaps such mysteries will reveal themselves in time.

Then again, perhaps I will speak with Ozy and find out.

[Dorganath]

My greatest friend here, Duradin, had grown melancholy of late.  One day, he approached me and said:

"Laddie, Oi'm gonna be goin' fer a bit.  A good lont toime, oi'd reckon."

"What?" I said.  "Where?  WHY?"

He chuckled, "D'not trouble yerself, laddie.  Oi'll be back.  Oi jes' got sum thins oi gots ta do, is all.  Somthins ta think on.  And ya knows oi'm not that great of a thinker, so its a'gonna take meh a good long while to figger it all out.  Har!  Ye'll be ollright witout meh.  Ye'll hardly know oi'm gone, ya will."

"So you're certain then?"

"Aye, lad.  Ne'er been more certain of anythin in moy loife."

"Far be it for me to try and change your mind.  Your skull's to thick!"

"Har! That it is, lad.  That it is." And then, after a pause.  "Aye, be well me brother, and make honest war upon our enemies."

"I will," I said.  

And with that, he nodded, propped the handle of his axe on his shoulder, turned and left.

I do not know where he went.  He wouldn't, or couldn't, tell me.  But I know he is safe and I know he'll be back.

[Dorganath]

Well, I haven't always been the smartest person, but I do alright.  A while ago, I discovered the trick of making myself vanish for a time, but I still felt captive to only roaming the "safe" places in and around Hlint, Haven, Krandor and Leilon (as long as I stayed on the road).  This was very frustrating for me, as I felt like I could only get out and explore when someone else was going the same direction.

Never once did it occur to me that I could avoid a lot of pain and risk of death by walking through certain places completely invisible. And once it did, a whole world opened up for me....literally.

I could get past those griffons that watch the roads in the north and the south.  I could get past the undead in the Broken Forest, the giants, manticores, snakes and scorpions in the Blood Desert.  I could avoid being seen and get pretty much anywhere I needed.

I've been to the continent of Rilara, by myself, and walked most of its roads and paths (including one place I hope not to see again....EVER) without being killed, or even threatened.  I've strolled through Dire Wood without so much as a groan from the spectres who dwell there.  I've been in caves, scouting out resources like spiders silks, ores and minerals.   This has truly been a gift.

Of course, exploration comes with its share of concerns.  For example....

A while ago, I was down by Ft. Velensk and fully visible.  Don't remember why, exactly, just exploring I guess.  I caught sight of a woman there, clad in what seemed like ceremonial robes, though I'm really not too knowledgeable about such things.  She wasn't doing much, just standing around.  Didn't think much of it at first, and I did not approach her.  I figured she had her own business.

I eventually made my way back to Hlint and sat down on one of the benches under that big tree by the bank.  I was somewhat surprised to see this same woman walking past on the road.  Coincidence?  Possibly, but as I've written, I don't believe much in them.  

Over the next several days, I caught sight of her several more times.  This started to concern me for two reasons.  First, there was an ill look about her.  Nothing I could quite put a handle on, but something in the face that suggested.....darkness, perhaps.  Second, I began to wonder if I was being followed.  I dismissed that as ludicrous.  Who would want to follow me?  I'm really nothing....nobody of any importance.

Except on at least one occasion, perhaps two, I was invisible, and yet, there she was, as if anticipating my arrival. Once in particular, I was all the way down in Port Hampshire, not a place I go too often except to catch a boat somewhere.  Strange.

Perhaps the "coincidence" of our being in the same places at the same time is merely some odd overlapping of time and personal business.  Most likely this is the case.  But, perhaps it is not me who is being followed.  Perhaps I was meant to observe or take notice of this person for some other, greater reason.  Perhaps we were both observing the same things, but for vastly different reasons.  It is a possibility I will need to explore.*

For now, adventure calls.

(written in the bottom margin of the page)
* I have since learned the name of this woman, but I shall not write it here.  If there is more to this "coincidence" than currently seems, then I dare not risk the chance of this journal being lost and falling into the wrong hands.

[Dorganath]

*The first big fuzzy blank bit*

[Dorganath]

So much has changed for me since I came to Layonara.  I've grown in power in terms of magic.  I've grown in strength and prowess with weapons.  I've made several new friends and contributed to several events of varying importance, including helping to repell an invasion of Hlint from the Drow.  I've become fairly proficient in alchemy, though I know I have far to go.  I recently took up gem cutting as a hobby, and found that I'm actually quite good at it...for as much as I've practiced, that is.  But the ability to make my own polishing oil is certainly a plus.

But in spite of all this, I've found myself wondering even more as to exactly why I was brought here. The dragon is obviously more intellingent and wise than I will probably ever be, and yet I wonder if he didn't make a mistake.

Lately, there have been some rather disturbing events happening around Hlint and other areas.  A group of people of dark vestments have been hanging around the crypts and caves of the area.  

(written in the side margin) That person I wrote of earlier seems to be involved with this group, though to what extent I do not know.

Often, bubbles of magical darkness and waves of a sickly red fog accompany them.  They claim to have nothing to do with such occurances, but as I have said many times, I do not believe in coincidences.  What's of even greater concern to me is that this business, this "alliance," is of great concern to those who I consider to be far more powerful than myself. To make matters worse, I saw the red fog affect those people...brought them to their knees...even after the fog had dissipated.  And as if that wasn't enough, I too felt the touch of that fog, though I went nowhere near the accursed mist.

Plenarius called it the "Taint"...an evil shadow that weighs upon my heart. Again, I questioned, "But why me?"  Why bother with someone as insignificant as myself?  In a long conversation with Plenarius, he confirmed something that has been rolling around in the back of my head since I got here.  I'm here for a reason...

While I don't yet know what that reason could possibly be, I have received enough nudges to convince me that it's time to take my future into my own hands.

With this, I have written about all I care to write about my time here so far.  Further entries will be more timely....I hope.

Perhaps by putting pen to parchement, I will remind myself of subtle clues that were previously missed.  And I need to find out more about this goddess Lucinda...and perhaps find some way to thank her for these gifts She has apparently given me.

Dated -- 28 Decilar 1374

[Dorganath]

So much for keeping my journal entries in a timely manner.  Ah well.  Better luck next time.

A wonderous and very strange series of events happened recently, and I had the....privilege (?) of being part of them. This one is too strange to write in its entirety.  Who'd believe it anyway?  Just the handful of people involved...and maybe a ship's captain down in Port Hampshire.

It seems there was this tomato....and a large one at that.  A large walking tomato, standing at least 8 feet high...a tomato that talked....and which was pretty handy in a fight, it turns out.  And there were giant cabbages...or were they cucumbers.  Oh, it doesn't really matter. The tomato was nice....friendly...even helpful.  Conscious, but not overly intelligent.  His "cousins" however were not so friendly or helpful.  In fact, they were down right mean.....and they smelled funny, too....and they were out to kill the tomato and whoever else got in their way.

In the end, we were able to save the Tomato, and he lives with Serenity now on Dregar somewhere, and stop the rest of the animated vegetables from terrorizing the countryside.  And the one thing that stopped the whole mess was not some fancy, powerful spell or some brave act of heroics, but rather....a simple pecan I had picked while exploring one day.

So this incident got me to thinking....thinking about what I would do with myself as I take command of my destiny.

I decided I would do what made me happy.  In no particular order:  alchemy, gem crafting and helping others when needed, whether hunting for spider silk or vanquishing some unspeakable evil...or somewhere in between. (written in side margin: Also drinking dwarven ale, destroying the undead)

I decided that it's alright to be in the back throwing arrows or rocks (or even pecans)...to depend on others to survive difficult situations. We all contribute in our own capacities.

I decided I would try not to overlook the small things, because sometimes solutions to big problems come in the smallest of details.

And I decided I would re-devote myself to discovering all I could about this gift of magic I posess, of Lucinda and of this thing called The Weave.  It seems I owe all three a debt of gratitude, and I am a long way from paying that back.

And if, in the process, I help to save the world...or make a little coin....so be it!

[Dorganath]

It seems our little adventure with the tomato in Rilara ended none too soon.  Afterwards, I spent several days exploring, taking in the land again, as I had done months before, and taking special note of the natural resources spread all around Rilara.  I even carried a sack full of some of them back with me.

Before I left, though, I found myself in a life-or-death encounter with a malar panther.  It seems they can see through my cloak of invisibility, and one of them gave me chase.  So I did what anyone would do in that situation.  I ran.

I ran until I thought my lungs would burst.  I think the panther was playing with me, as I believe it could have overtaken me easily.  And yet....it didn't.  I ran out of the Sereth Fens and all the way to Casterly Castle.  I flung open the doors, hoping to close them behind me, but the panther was too close.  So I shouted for Alexi, the peculiar dwarf who lives there.  He looked at me, saw my predicament and vanished.

"NO!" I screamed in my head, not wanting to waste my breath on any further shouting.  I could feel I was nearing exhaustion.  The panther was closer now, and he nipped and scratched at my heels to let me know that. I ran around the pond, around the buildings...hoping to confuse or tire the panther, but it was all for naught.  I felt exhaustion looming closer.  Every step was a monumental effort. For the briefest of moments, I considered stopping and offering the panther my throat so as to hasten what seemed inevitable.

And then, in my path, appeared a golem....a new target for the panther, who apparently is unaware that golems are not made of meat.  Anyway, it was just the distraction I needed to get away and catch my breath. In short order, I saw Alexi join the fray and take on the panther. I felt bad for bringing the beast here, so with my last bit of strenth, I drew my sword to aided the attack on the panther.  I honestly do not know if my blows had any effect whatsoever...and I'm pretty sure I blacked out for a moment.  When I opened my eyes, Alexi stood over the dead panther, breathing deeply.  He turned to look at me, surveyed my (largely superficial) wounds and then muttered a spell of healing that stopped my bleeding.  He then turned, muttered something in dwarvish and went about his business.

I sank back into unconsciousness.  When I awoke it was dark, Alexi was gone, the golem was gone, and the panther was still dead. Knowing that the skins of such creatures are valuable, I quickly cut the pelt from the creature and disposed of the rest of it.  As I left Casterly Castle, I looked toward the pass to the Sereth Fens, and as I did, I heard the growl of the malars....too close for my tastes.And so, I ran again to put as much distance between them and me as possible, lest they smell my fear on the wind and come hunting for an easy snack.  I ran for quite some time, invisibly because it made me feel better.  After some period of time...an hour perhaps, I came to the Gates of Point Harbor.  And from there, booked passage back to Mistone.

And now, for the bad part.

Not long after returning to Hlint, the sky darkened to the south. A tremendous maelstrom of dark clouds rose out of the south over what I now know was Rilara.  What a massive storm it must have been to be seen half a continent and miles of ocean away.  And yet, there it was...a looming, unnatural cloud of unfathomable size and a sinister air even from this great distance.  Naturally, the fear was that this storm would come to Mistone, but that did not happen. Ships were shut down and people, some that I know, were trapped there. It lasted for several days, and my friends were eventually able to return home.

Of the few words I've had with those who have some knowledge of this event, the storm was apparently part of an invasion of Rilara.  Though the storm is now gone, there is fear and concern among those who I consider to be quite strong and powerful that Rilara is now under the control of this invading force, whatever that is.  Rumors are plenty, and details, truthful details, are few.  Perhaps Plenarius would know more, but I have not seen him for many days.

It seems, perhaps, that the war may be coming to us.

[Dorganath]

Usually, it seems, rumors are far worse than the truth in any given situation. Sadly, I have found that this is not always true.  

This business with Rilara has been on my mind a lot recently....since the storm, really. Rumors of what has transpired are many.  The generally accepted belief is that the recent tempest over Rilara was part of an invasion of sorts...or a power struggle.  But pinning down the truth has been tricky.

I have heard rumors that demons rained from the sky during that storm, and that they now roam, even control, Rilara.  I have heard that Blood himself came to Rilara, and yet other rumors state that it was another of Blood's generals, a demon of some great power (and whose name I have heard, but will not write here), who came to claim Rilara as his own.  I have heard rumors that the storm was an attempt to cut us off from an ancient fey race who may be our only real hope of defeating Blood.

And then there's this rumor of a Red Moon.  The prevailing rumor here is that the moon will turn yellow, then orange and finally red.  When the red moon apears, so the rumors go, a dark god will step forth to claim power....or a new god will arise....or something else equally foreboding.

Rumors of such things are always unsettling, to be sure. And yet, I am now no more comforted after learing the truth, or at least as much truth as is available to me.  

Rilara is supposedly back to "normal"....whatever that means.  According to Plenarius, the entire continent seems to be pretty much as it has been all along, no more or less dangerous than it has been.  This is good, afterall.  But despite that, the details of that storm and its aftermath are still quite unclear, even to those who usually know of such things....and that gives me great concern.

And this rumor of the Red Moon....It is true.  At least that there will be a Red Moon is true.  What comes of it has yet to be determined.  I have learned that during the time of the Red Moon, all aspects of the Weave will be united for a time.  I only guess as to what effect this will have, but I do not like the sound of it at all. And I wonder what effect this shift in the Weave will have on me and the magics in my blood.

Brisbane said that the forces of evil on this world have known about the coming of this event for a long time and are planning some form of assault to take advantage of this event.  It is hoped that we can somehow find a way to level the battlefield....to even up the odds.  I do not know how that might be accomplished, but I have offered my services in the effort, such as they are.

Part of me wishes that I had kept my mouth shut and continued on in blissful ignorance of these events.  Rumors, being what they are, can often be generally dismissed as folly.  The truth, even part of the truth, cannot be so easily ignored.

I only wish now that this discomfort I feel in the pit of my stomach would subside.

[Dorganath]

Right before the time of the Drow invasion of Hlint, a young boy arrived in town.  He was dirty, his clothes ragged and torn.  He had many marks from injuries, some likely inflicted by others.  And he was scared of his own shadow.  For whatever reason, I had great concern for this boy, particularly after a small raiding party of Drow breached the city's walls.  He ran and hid as I approached him...cowering under the platform by the well.  I remember trying to gain his trust by offering a bit of my food....which he took and ate ravenously as if he hadn't eaten for days (and perhaps he hadn't).

I was able to speak with him briefly, and he told a halting tale of his life, which has seen more hardship than any child should have to endure.  Being an orphan was the least of his hardships, apparently.  He always looked frightenend and would rarely let anyone near him.  The pain in his eyes was most un-childlike. And he told me his name: Tom.

Since that time, I have seen him grow more comfortable with the people in town.  Still understandably skittish, but more like a child should be.  And best of all, he has been taken in by Plenarius and Brisbane, who he calls his "mum and dad". He seems happy, for perhaps the first time in his life.

He clung to the leg of Brisbane during a recent conversation I had with her, and during that time something quite unexpected happened.  We were speaking of this Red Moon, and the topic greatly concerned young Tom to the point of fear. As he became more scared and agitated, I first felt then saw a swirling of magical energies around him...coming from him.  The whole thing seemed to make him rather scared...though I got the impression it was not the first time such a thing has happened to him.  And unless I am mistaken, I think the boy was instinctually trying to protect himself, though he perhaps did not understand how to manifest that protection.  Fascinating, really.

I immediately understood what was happening to him, as did Katrien, a bard, who was part of our conversation.  I tried to reassure Tom, telling him that something similar had happened to me, and that he would learn to control it in time.  This confused him more, I think, but perhaps it also helped to calm him a bit.  The swirling magic subsided shortly, and he was noticably relieved.

Later, I told him how I understood what he was going through, and I told him that I might be able to help him, if he was willing.  I told him that my magic worked the same way, and that it scared me, too, as a child.  He seemed to find some comfort in that and also willing to let me try to help him understand his "gifts" (as Brisbane calls them), but at the same time quite scared.  I told him he could come to me whenever he was ready. He nodded, then ran off to find his "mum".

I have no need of an apprentice, but his experience made me recall my own childhood with my "gifts" and how they frightened me...how I had to hide them from all but my own family.  Whether it is me who helps him or someone else, I certainly hope he finds some guidance in this awakening.

[Dorganath]

*written somewhat hurriedly and less legibly than other entries*

I have just had the strangest dream of my entire life.  I hope I can write this down quickly enough, lest I begin to forget the details.

I've been travelling the High Forest, gathering plants and roots for potions. I stopped in the Harmony Grove to rest after a long day of gathering.  My legs and feet ached from the walk, and my pack weighed heavily on my shoulder.  The night was cool and clear and there was a slight breeze.  I sat by the fire and ate a modest dinner and took an inventory of the day's gatherings.  Not bad, overall.  Another day of this, and I should have plenty...for now.  As the hour grew late, I laid out my bedroll near the smouldering fire.  Ember curled up next to me, his head tucked neatly under a wing.

I laid on my back and gazed up the stars through the trees.  Such beauty...such calm...very mesmerizing.  I felt my eyes grow heavy...tired.  A blink...another, slower this time....and another.  And between blinks, the sky changed.

The stars were there, the forest was there, but now there was something else. An energy....a wave...I don't know how else to describe it.  The night sky was permeated by a faint glow.  It was in the sky, and yet, separate from the sky. This glow flowed like water or a flag in the wind.  As I stared longer, I saw that it had texture...stripes of brighter and darker colors, all shades the eye can see, criss-crossing each other, swirling around each other in a slow, fluid dance.  I sat up, then stood.  Ember seemed not to notice.

I walked around the grove.  This glow was everywhere, and it touched everything.  It flowed around all things, past them, through them.  Through the trees, I saw the temple of Katia.  The temple was bathed in the glow, brighter than its surroundings.  Chords of every shade of green flowed through the temple...or radiated from the temple...I could not tell which.

I rub my eyes to clear my vision.  I notice my hands.  They too are bathed in the glow, as are my arms...my entire body.  I stare at my hands, watching the streamers of light play around them...pass through them.  As I watched, the light became more concentrated, more intense.  I felt the familiar surge of building magic as the glow intensified around me.  My hands became obscured in light, so that I could no longer see my fingers.  The glow was warm, comforting, familiar.  For a moment, I was transfixed as the light grew brighter and brighter.  And then a sudden flash.  Reflexively, raised my arm to shield my eyes, and the flash subsided.  My hands dimmed and faded, though traces of light continued to swirl.

Then, a sound high in the sky.  I look up. Dragons.  Dozens of them, perhaps a hundred or more.  Flying through the sky, each glowing brightly as my own hands had done.  They flew along parallel strands of light, as if following this energy...or perhaps bending it to their will.  I walked into a clearing to get a better view.  The sky opened up before me, and I watched them until I could no longer see them.

And as they flew out of sight, I saw the moon begin to rise low in the sky.  It rose quickly, faster than I had ever seen it move.  And as it rose, fine strands of light swirled around it.  As it rose, it changed color.  White, then yellow, then orange as it neared its apex.  As it rose, the swirling around it became more intense....and brighter.  As it reached its highest point in the sky, directly overhead, the color deepened, darkened.  I had thought it would turn black, but instead it turned a most disturbing shade of blood red.  

As this last change in color took hold, everything changed.  The multi-hued glow that had been was replaced with shades of the same color, from a dark, blood red to a warm rose color and all shades in between.  I tried to look away from the moon.  The words screamed in my head, but I could not move...I could not look away.  The moon seemed to grow larger in the sky...or closer...I could not tell.  The swirling intensified, The wind grew.  Dark boiling clouds blew in from the south, obscuring the sky but leaving my view of the moon clear for a time.  As the gap in the clouds closed, for an instant, I saw what looked like a dark hand closing around the moon.  Lightning cracked overhead....

I awoke with a start next to my fire...my heart pounding in my chest...my breathing rapid and erratic.  Ember looked slightly annoyed that I had disturbed him, but promptly tucked his head back under a wing.

I looked at the sky.  The dull glow of dawn was approaching. The fire was little but smoke and ash.  I got up and walked around.  Everything seemed normal.  I saw the temple of Katia....same as it had always been.  And my hands...a bit dirty, but otherwise as they should be.