The World of Layonara
Character Development => Development Journals and Discussion => Topic started by: Olme on September 12, 2005, 06:11:00 AM
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Tome of the Scarlet Hawk - The Journal of Jharl
* A worn and battered leather bound journal. All the writing has been penned in a neat and careful script. It seems that the writer is either very new to this skill or being very meticulous ..or both*
I have arrived and entered this settlement called Hlint. It is a confusing place with all manner of people about. Such large crowds..and these buildings.. it is all so complicated, but with all these strange folk about there may be much lore to discover here.
I set up camp in some woods north of town, near a great stone tower. The first night I was set upon by an orc warparty.. they exist no more. The Orcs are numerous here as well so I have moved my camp to a more remote location.
I heard of a bounty offered by the Quartermaster to go skin some goblins that harrass the town . The quartermaster seemed bored by the whole thing..it has been going on for so long it seem...the orcs and goblins are a common sight right up to the gates of town.
The town also has a crypt where they consign the bones of their fallen. Apparrently the dead inside are restless and sometimes become a problem.
I have met many warriors and such of all type but have not befriended any as yet. Some have looked at my hide armor and mumbled something about .."only a bar..bare ee en".. they did not say it with the honor a warrior deserves.
*another entry several days later*
My journey has become a little eaiser now that I remember my voice. Now more often than not, I quietly sing to myself when working, be it chopping wood or just traveling.
The old song of the hunt, and the work song.. They truly make my pack seem lighter and help my spirits.
I have begun to chop wood so that I might be able to craft a fine bow.
*another entry*
I have today met another 'bar bare ee en".. but not from any tribe that is in our lore. Her name is Sy'Ravenne . She has made a long journey to Hlint from across the sea, a place called, I think Dreager. She was summoned from her people to Hlint by a dragon.. I did not tell her I had the same vision. She has been here for many moon cycles.
I had a long talk with this warrior clad in strange rainment. She wields a fine curved sword that the locals call a scimitar. She spoke of learning yet another strange blade called a katana. Her eyes were on fire as she spoke of being able to wield such a weapon ..could it be that powerful ?
Later when another came to greet Sy'Ravenne, I began to quietly sing our tribal song of greeting. Sy'Ravenne asked if I were a bard ..I said no, I was a warrior, but one that had a fair voice that I hoped to use to inspire in war and toil. She thought that this was very noble I think, and said I should seek out one called Geir. He has great skill in this.
Sy'Ravenne then enlisted me into a war party . We entered a cavern near to Hlint that has become the home of goblins. There are far fewer of that vermin in there now. It was good to be back on the hunt again, although my new companions fight in strange ways with strange weapons.
One of the members of our war party had black skin and white hair and wielded a great longbow. yes ..it was a drow ..the lore is correct: they do exist and they are more than a tribal legend now. This drow walked openly in Hlint and told me she was friendly..as the Scarlet Hawks always do, I told her that I held no prejudice but would make my personal judgment on her actions. She fought as hard as the rest of the party and this drow, as far as Jharl is concerned is steadfast.
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I met a traveller today by the name of Ifion Witseeker. Ifion said that he is a bard. Ifion came to Hlint from a place named Calishan... across the sea somewhere. He has, he said, travelled all through Mistone, collecting information in the service of a diety. He is also a wielder of magic of some sort. He seemed eager to learn of my background and even summoned a hawk when I told him of my clan. A most interesting character.
He also has had the dream of the dragon and told me that many others about Hlint have also.. even if they will never talk about it openly or at all.
Ifion also brought evil tidings though. He said that Sinthar is returning to Mistone with his minions of evil and that strange events were already in motion ...could this be related to the woes that have beset my clan ?
I have also found my voice getting stronger. I found myself singing the 'Song of the Scarlet Hawk' in the midst of a chance encounter with some vermin of the woods. I think that my song made my defense easier...could this be ?.
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A bad moment today. while travelling through some woods I was set upon by a spider and ettercap. I quickly killed the ettercap, but the spider would not succumb to any of my blows. I was able to get away and seek some help from some other travellers. They told me that the trouble was mot with my fighting prowess, but that I would need to find a smith who could inlay my weapon with iron. I do not know why this may be, but they seemed trustworthy enough.
I must seek out a smith and perhaps avoid spiders until I can sort this out..
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I have met two people recently that I must make note of. The first is a man from, I think Spellguard named Samir. He is a man of magic, one that the locals would say ‘is in touch with the Weave’. I have traveled with him to far distant Ft. Valensk in the south of Mistone. He has practiced his arcane arts to my benefit by casting spells that have enhanced my combat abilities and other useful protections. Samir has earned my trust and respect and it is good to know that one with those abilities is behind me when confronted with enemies. In return , I have provided Samir with little other than companionship and a song of inspiration. It is good to have company in journeys as all trips are perilous and the rumors of strange events and sightings continue unabated.
Katrien Hommel is the second person of note. I commissioned her to craft me some rings that might enhance my warrior skills and she did do exactly that at a fair price. But she is more than a mere merchant, she is an accomplished master of all manner of crafts. While examining the rings that she had fashioned for me, I began to sing very quietly, as I often do, “The Song of the Red Hawk.” She was I think, most surprised and wanted to know if I too were a bard. I explained that no, I was a warrior, but that I liked to sing. I also told her I might one day be what my clan calls a Skald, but only if I can learn how to inspire others with my song . I expected scorn or laughter but instead this magnificent woman handed me a mandolin. “A gift from one performer to another.” She explained how I could use this instrument to help practice and enhance my voice. This left me speechless, but after she showed me how to work the strings I again found my voice and sang a song as I slowly tried the mandolin. I think the song was not so good but with time it I will improve it. Katrien was kind enough to play a beautiful tune on a silver flute. Very inspiring.
In the realm of combat my greatest asset has been when I focus my mind and energy on the task at hand: swinging this fine warhammer of iron at my enemies. Others have said that at these times that “I fly into a rage”, but to me it is all just a part of battle. I have also found that many times I can hurl insults at my adversary with good effect as it very often leads to their doom.
A thought. Until now I have always used my singing to put my mind at ease and, in combat, to help in some small way inspire myself and my allies. I think that I have had some success in this. I wonder if I might also learn to use song to cause my enemies to lose confidence and strike fear in their hearts. This I must explore.
My voice: So powerful whether in a song of inspiration, or taunting my foes. An asset that all have or my gift from the Scarlet Hawk ?
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Nothing startling to report. I have somewhat adjusted to life in these 'civilized' lands. I have been able to use my foraging and hunting skills to good advantage to aquire goods for trade. I have done a bit of mining as necessary although I do not enjoy these dark pits and caverns that always seem to have goblins or kobolds or worse lurking within.
My fighting abilities are what is keeping me alive..and a song to bolster my morale when needed..and it is needed often. Are all these lands so dangerous by nature or is something more sinister afoot ? After all everyone in Hlint (and all of Mistone) is on edge. Daily rumors of Sinthar and his minions up to no good.
It looks perhaps that the fate of the Scarlet Hawks may be bound up one and the same as all of the peoples of Mistone and beyond.
I must redouble my efforts to secure friends and allies and also to aid the cause of good. If I can inspire warriors through song and deed that may be but a small thing.. but then are not big things made of small things ? Can not the world be made better by these small deeds ? That is this warriors place.
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I have discovered the 'secret' to brewing ale. Lots of recipes to try. This is fun.
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Becoming quite skilled at brewing. A major draback to this endeavor is the tendency to immediately consume what has been produced. Occupational hazard I guess.
I have toiling in the dreary mines gathering ore so that I will have material to fletch some fine arrows or bolts. I need to decide which weapon I feel more comfortable with. A bow is nice and light and well suited for those archers but I wonder if I would be better to train on one of those crossbows. They seem to have more power. And on the rare occasions that I use these weapons I'd like each shot to do a lot of damage. Well... try them both I guess.
I have also begun to work with a greatsword. Time will tell if I am suited to this weapon.
I found a diamond on an orc that attacked me. A wizard in town gave me a hefty price for that bauble.
Miss Acacea, a jewel of a person, was kind enough to arrange to have a wizard friend of hers fashion an enchanted amulet for me. It has aided my travels greatly.
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Well a fine longbow it is. I feel very comfortable wielding this bow I fashioned from oak that I harvested myself. A fine bow deserves some fine arrows but the merchants sell only junk. Therefor I have become quite self sufficient at fletching my own. These I can rely on. Not bad for an occasional archer.
I have also been experimenting with various melee weapons. I have traded in the greatsword I was using and replaced it with something called a falchion. I like this big sword. I can hit hard with it. I have also taken to training with a scimitar. It is a good backup weapon for use when I have need of my shield and must get in close and it is not a big burden to carry. My hammer does not go without use, it is my weapon of choice when confronted with undead.
On a different note, Katrien has left on a great and perilous journey to I know not where. She could not or would not tell me a lot of details about it but I could sense that she was very concerned so I did not trouble her mind further with long explanations. I helped her as best I could, as a friend should, to gather useful supplies for her journey. I do know that her journey is of great significance and that she travels with stalwart companions. I tried to find her before she sailed with a last minute gift but I was too late. I have implored the Spirit of the Scarlet Hawk to watch over her and her companions.
I also got involved with some slave runners. A fighter of small renown around Mistone named Jet has had some of his past catch up with him. A chance encouter with an old man on the waterfront of Port Hampshire led to us tracking down his daughter who was sold into slavery by an evil bandit named Tyde. I helped as I was able to and there was a great need at times to resort to swordwork. A low point came when we were ambushed by a huge group of bandits on Rilara. The Soul Mother did me some permanent harm I fear, but it was for a righteous cause and in the end we rescued the girl, Danyella. Jet has now gone into hiding, I know not where, to further his training under the old man's tutelage. May the Scarlet Hawk aid him as well.
Another person of note that I have met is a student of the weave named Sophia. She, I think, is destined to possess a true mastery of the arcane arts. I enjoy her company. I can on occasion use what she called a cantrip, but I know that when I am able to invoke these 'cantrips', it is a gift of the Scarlet Hawk. Sophia can go way beyond ny meagre abilities. She understands this magic while I know not why. She spent a long time trying to help me be able to make sense of some scrolls. I appreciate her help greatly but I was not able to progress much I think. She also showed me about Pt. Hampshire. It is a massive city and is fascinasting although I feel a bit uneasy here with these crowds of people. Sophia though moves quite gracefully through this city. (but then she always moves gracefully.) To me she seems as much at home here as I do in the wild. I would like to travel with her if possible, if only to see her unleash some of her magical powers. It would be quite a spectacle I am sure.
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Lots of mining to do. I have decided to wear the Cougar Leather that Katrien made for me a while back. It is a lot easier to wield a pick wearing this instead of the chain.
As I headed through Hlint I happened upon beautiful Sophia near the well. I finally remembered to ask her of this wand I had aquired. She studied it carefully and explained every symbol on it..apparently it is a fairly powerful wand of acid arrows. I know I could wield but I also know I wont. I still trust more in my weapons than things arcane. I left the wand with her to study further or possibly even use.
Next out of nowhere Samir shows up ! The three of us went off to see what Sielwood could offer up for our use. It was a humbling experience. Those two have lots of abilities at their command and I felt a bit of a burden. I even acted foolishly and took on a Render..not the smartest thing to do in light armor.
But it all turned out well in the end despite some terrible moments...and I learned a lesson..stay within your own abilities. They are both good company.
Later in Hlint I was able to sell another batch of ale to someone named Brisbane. Must get working on some more..
I accompanied Miss Acacea to the crypts to make sure some young fools weren't part of the attractions there. Acacea got to them and healed them just in time. I had to step in and deal with a bunch of the zombies.. Acacea is no one to trifle with it combat. She carrys a nasty looking blade and is smart about tactics. She just needs to remember to bring food and bandages but then.. who plans a picnic in the crypts ?
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On Drow
Even in my boyhood I heard what little lore my clan possessed concerning this race. When old Thrandor would speak of the drow it was always with a genuine dread and revulsion. Many in our clan dismissed it all as the ramblings of an old man who’s tales had grown with time within his own mind. Indeed it was easy for some to dismiss this, after all Thrandor had never claimed to have met or even seen one and many human generations had passed in our tribe even during his long life...
But I think differently. Lore is preserved for a reason even if one may not perceive why. In such a harsh life in the remote wild, with immediate danger ever present a tale of unimportance would be long forgotten, yet there remained this legend of obsidian elves that Thrandor said were a great evil.
I admit that although I took Thrandor's words seriously it was still only a legend as were the tales of dragons.
But now I have met a dragon and conversed with drow.
I was in Hlint but a few days when I met a drow and as I have already scribed in this journal, even hunted with one. It is not that I disregarded Thrandor's words ...indeed they were foremost in my mind. I may have hunted with one but this hunting trip was different. I had never been so wary of a companion in my life.
The Scarlet Hawks have always had a culture of acceptance. Indeed although I am half elven there was never a stigma attached to being other than human. Each warrior does his duty and is loyal to the tribe. If ever a judgment is needed it is on this loyalty that it is based. Should not I judge these drow the same?
I think perhaps not. I have met many others in Hlint and throughout my travels of Mistone and every group has their own tale of drow spawned evil. I have even heard whispers that drow attacked Hlint in the recent past. But are not even these folks, who seem to be good by nature, tolerant as are the Scarlet Hawks? Even now drow walk the streets openly and unchallenged except for some occasional harsh exchange of words.
I recently witnessed such a confrontation firsthand. An elven priestess of the goddess Lucinda named Tia confronted one who thought to travel with a group we had assembled. Tia was uncompromising and unwavering. I perceive that there is great wisdom in her although I know not the specifics of her hatred of drow. Is it personal or dogmatic? Does it matter?
I will implore the Spirit of the Scarlet Hawk for guidance.
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I traveled to Ft. Valensk to a meeting of something called the Mistone Alliance. While waiting for the meeting a party of gnomes appeared with some sort of infernal machine that it seems they struggled to master. I am still not sure what they were up to but when their contraption malfunctioned they managed to alter the looks of several of us who were nearby. For a short period I looked like an oversize dwarf. They apparently made some adjustments and soon I was back to my normal appearance. Strange people, these gnomes.
Tia’sar’ru, the priestess, shared a tale of a great venture she is part of. She has been sent on some expeditions to gather lore that might help in the struggle with Sinthar. She was able to help more than she ever thought possible. Lucinda has chosen wisely in granting her favor on Tia .
Jet has returned. He looks well if a bit more grim. He has, I think, mastered those Katana he wields. I witnessed his deadly power with them on a trip to Haven. The trip was not pleasant though as Jet seemed preoccupied and grumbled all the way about Acacea tagging along. I though enjoyed her company in that grim cavern.
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Upon my return from Haven, I was approached by a woman that I have not seen before. She had a look of elegance about her and an air of self confidence, yet, at the same time she looked weary and care worn. She told me that we must speak in private and discreetly showed me a small package of documents. A small package sealed with Katrien’s signet.
We headed off to a remote corner of the tower north of Hlint where we could converse. The woman told me that her name was Jacee and that Katrien had told her where I might be found. I then broke the seal on the package.
It was a most startling piece of news that I read. Katrien had given birth to a child before her departure three long months ago. Katrien had named her child Lisse and even as I read Katrien’s words, Jacee cradled the babe in her arms. Lisse is hauntingly beautiful and bears the likeness of Katrien but is more than human. The child is half-drow.
Jacee’s face said it all. to me it appears that she is no stranger to hardship and adversity. She is strong but clearly worried. She tells me how she saw Katrien off and expected her back long before now. The tearful goodbye as mother left daughter. So now she has come to me as Katrien had bid her to.
I read on… Katrien says that Lisse has a gift of sound, music and implores me to help with that. “Sing to Lisse” her words urge. Can I do no less? So I sing…. I do my best with an old lullaby that I had thought long forgotten. Lisse is clearly moved by this and it even brings the glimmer of a smile to Jacee’s face.
Jacee tells me of further ominous possibilities: Lisse might even be in grave danger from drow or others. Katrien even kept the birth secret from her husband, a drow named Lar. She tells me that there are others we can turn to for help if the need grows urgent. I am so stunned that I fail to notice the second scroll. It is Jacee that points it out.
With trepidation I open this second scroll, what news does it contain? But no, not news, a sheet of music that has been carefully transcribed. The text appears ancient and not of a language I can comprehend…most strange. As I study this sheet further a most amazing thing happens: this music seems to teach itself to me, infusing itself into my mind. I can’t explain it but I now KNOW what this music does. As sung, more of a strange chant than a lilting melody. And then I understand. Katrien has handed me a weapon. A most powerful weapon. This song has the power to blunt an enemy’s sword, to break a foe's will, to even kill. This is music of power that I must master. Oh Katrien.
I look up to see Jacee studying me. She is puzzled by the smile I have. I try to explain the power in that melody to her but it is clearly beyond her ken.
But what now? What desperate quest would take a mother from her newborn? What of Lisse and Jacee? Are we all in danger? Can we up live to Katrien’s trust?
So many questions. No answers.
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Waiting
The time slips by, day following day, and still no word from Katrien. I am truly worried, but what is to be done? I go, as often as possible, to sing and play the mandolin for Lisse’. The child seems delighted as soon as I arrive and even now, only months old, seems to anticipate the music. She devours all I can provide and I think that she is making me a better singer. What great gift might this child possess?
I think Jacee is also happy to see me, to have a break from this great burden she bears. I have true admiration for this woman that I know so little of. She is so ever protective of Lisse’ and provides well for the child. Katrien chose wisely.
I do not travel far these days, but instead use what time as I find free to work with this mandolin. I have made an occasional trip to Pt. Hampshire out of necessity to buy supplies and escort friends along those perilous roads. I also made a trip to Leilon for a gathering on a holiday. Kali, of the Leilon Arms, delighted us all with a grand performance on her violin. We then played an impromptu duet, her on violin, I on mandolin. She was kind enough to help me with some new music.
Spellguard
Made a trip to the beautiful city of Spellguard in search of a fine gem that would remove this skin of bark when not needed. I had the honor of being escorted by one of Lucinda’s chosen which made the trip meaningful. Without my guide, I would have been lost in the crowded marketplace and probably would never had dared to approach the Temple or High Tower. As it was the gem was found in the great Lady’s temple. We then went to tour the beautiful grounds of The Tower. As we relaxed in a quiet garden, the hours slipped away as my guide regaled me with the history of this great tower and city and the sad times it endured at the hands of the drow. I also learned much of Lucinda. My companion worried that I was bored but she misjudged. I was truly fascinated, although I could not fathom how treachery and evil could have marred this great city of Lucinda. All too soon this trip had to end.
Back in Hlint.
Some music to fascinate little Lisse’.
Jacee still has no word.
Waiting
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News
A few days back as I sat practicing my mandolin, I noticed some faces in Hlint that I have not seen in quite some time. First Connor and then the one I know only as Syn walked past me. I must have been lost in my music, because it took me many minutes to remember that they had traveled with Katrien. I was able to locate Syn and he told me the news I had hoped for: Katrien was on her way home. I think I left him so quickly that I did not even say goodbye. I made my way to Jacee who confirmed what I had heard. She had the situation well in hand and had already made some very practical arrangements.
[Some notes of unimportance here concerning travel arrangements, ship docking schedules, supplies to be purchased etc.]
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[More entries scrawled here. They are almost illegible and appear to have been hastily penned.]
Near disaster Greypeaks Better route?
Bard named ‘Ozy’…Shadison .. Milara …Weave ripped ? Dungeon of the Eye
Blackford… missed meeting / picnic /get wine
Leilon Arms
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Reunion
Katrien and Lisse’ reunited. A wonderful sight that I longed to see for so long. The resemblance of mother and child is striking. Katrien looks a bit gaunt and exhausted but at the same time serene, content.
It was a meeting of strong emotions than ran the gamut from joy to despair. So much to talk about and so much Katrien felt she wanted to share with me. We talked of the past, the present and even the future. Hours raced by, seeming like mere seconds, as she recounted the harrowing tale of her recent journey. This woman is truly a bard. She can spin words as well as music in a tapestry that envelops you. By words alone, she was able to make me feel as though I was on that journey along side her. But yet I know in my heart that could not be, for all her magic with words, only those who were there could truly understand.
What a great honor she does me, to spend precious time recounting all this to me when she has so much to attend to, so many burdens to bear.
If they need help I will be there.
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Perhaps Katrien’s saga was the inspiration…
I have set to music some words.
The lyrics are a poem I learned many years ago:
Don’t Quit
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit—
Rest if you must, but don’t you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of sometimes learn,
And many a fellow turns about,
When he might have won had he stuck it out.
Don’t give up though the pace seems slow ---
You may succeed with another blow.
Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man;
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor’s cup;
And he learns too late when the night came down,
How close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out ---
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit,
It’s when things seem worst that you mustn’t quit.
[-- Author unknown]
I am sure Katrien can make it sparkle when she has some time.
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Rilara. So many supplies I need that can be found only there. I think I must go there soon though I don’t look forward to it. It can be such a long, lonely journey.
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I now have regular lodgings at the Leilon Arms. It is most strange to have a roof over my head and an actual room to call my own. I have signed on to help there by tending bar, brewing and maybe a bit of entertaining. Quin, Kali and especially Derrick have been most kind to me.
Lisse’ is thriving now that she is back in her mother’s arms. Katrien has all the right words and song ..it is well, amazing. I visit as often as I am able to and send small gifts when I travel. They are never far from my thoughts.
Mistone has gotten most dangerous of late. Strange reports of sharp, violent encounters with powerful forces are reported daily. The population is in panic. I answered a call to arms in a desperate defense of Ft. Velensk. The town held but at a dear cost in lives. I have heard also whispers and rumors of troubles in the heavens themselves thus I guess that we can expect no peace while the gods themselves quarrel.
I also fear I have embarked on the most dangerous expedition of my life. I answer this call to adventure as eagerly as I brandish my ax at foes, but in this arena, all my weapons are useless, for I have found passion with one, and yes, even love, and it terrifies me. It was certainly a lust for adventure that dragged me from the Greypeaks, but in that I had some measure of preparation and skill with hammer to deal with danger. I have no such advantages here. For what can be more dangerous to a man than a woman ? I think it is easier for one to discern the mind of an Umber Hulk than for a man to truly understand a woman. Provocative, Menacing, Charming. She has long since broken down all my meagre defences. I am honored when she tries to share her goals and aspirations with me, but I think she is dismayed when I counsel caution. My advice comes from the heart though, and is no doubt tainted with the the poor judgement that Ilsare imparts in these matters.
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Well all of the worlds’ troubles now seem a lot closer. There is genuine fear and tension throughout the populace of Mistone as rumors of Sinthar and his war machine spread to all quarters. The Queen has placed all forces on alert and soldiers are now a commonplace sight. The government is collecting supplies for war and I have answered that call by supplying several fine bows I have crafted.
And yet I think it is much worse than we all can know.
Several days ago ..it felt like an earthquake..one moment I was in Hlint, the next at a strange tower with many others. I was heartened to see Katrien there amongst the group. A wraith appeared to us and some of us saw four visions. I think we all saw the same visions and that we were seeing four possible futures but I cannot be certain .. Many of us later returned to this tower to converse with this wraith ..He is known as ‘Shifter’ and had some messages for us. Several in the group could converse with him in his language and he warned us of great peril. He showed us yet another vision. ..Sinthar taking control of Roldem.. it was happening as we were seeing it. The Shifter promised us help if we could free his soul .
The key to this is apparently to locate an ancient artifact that seems..well ..out of reach. After a long heated debate, as to the correct course of action, we set out to go to Roldem to recover another artifact..a soul .. related to shifter perhaps, that may yet play a part in history. I know little of the lore concerning this but I do know we went at great peril and recovered it only by the narrowest of margins. I think if Connor had not been so resolute, the trip would not have been made and all would have been lost. Nevertheless, this is far from over and all may yet still be lost.
Yet, despite all this a certain normalcy.
Work at the Arms is steady. Ale always sells well be it peace or war.
Several minor expeditions around Mistone, managed to get trapped in Haven mines for a bit. Those mages…
I assist Katrien as I may; visit Lisse and Jacee as often as I can.
I have seen little of the one who stole a piece of my heart. Perhaps ..well ..
[several jumbled and hastily scrawled ..seemingly meaningless notes appear here .. and a poorly drawn sketch of a rainy island]
Tia sent word to me that she had an opportunity to purchase a house. I have agreed to help her in this endeavor. I can live just fine on the land, but she needs a roof and a place to pursue her devotions to Lucinda. There will also be room for that halfling and the mage. Tia has experience in these matters and will run a fine house..no .. not house, home.
My stock of coin may now be low but I am far richer with good friends.
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Anira ela amire laaneca il tyeanya eo sa irailman acywala sa E aneln. Laira tycilala iram vilsa ameanir iram wmeam. E sylaan fa tyilanealan. Amal laira ela mailwa, aniral ama seviran anevaaniram queymlaa el tyillalaeel illw ill a’tycemilaneel eo ilcc anirilan ela ameaneny. E oailm ean lean fyan wmilam laanmalvanir omes anira anireyviran. Iream synyir faananam ean seviran fa. E oailm lean anira tycaillayma lem tyilel. Weala laira ?
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An expedition to a local cavern has claimed my ax. Some innocuous looking creature came at our party with hostile intent. I took it down with one blow but watched in horror as my ax dissolved into a useless pile of rust.
Because of this incident I have gone back to the carpentry bench. . My skill in this has now grown such that I have been allowed to start using the master hall. It is a goal that I have long strived for. access to this hall has allowed me to work a fine staff of imported mahogany. It is lightweight and a good backup weapon, and will not rust.
New faith
Life has settled into some new rhythms. The home in Leilon grows more comfortable by the day. She made an excellent choice. The convenience of the port is proving its worth and I am also near the Arms. Tia has taken great pains to help me learn to write in elven. I struggle mightily with this task but her patience seems boundless. She has much on her mind as she seeks to move closer to Lucinda. She has explained to me her chosen path and I think it will not be long until the Lady rewards her faith and grants her more power. I look forward to seeing the joy on her face when this occurs. I will give her the gift I have prepared at that time.
I have decided to become a follower of Lucinda. My reasons are many but I think sound. Katrien, Connor, Samir, and of course Tia all profess this faith. Tia has answered all my questions and helped me immensely in my understanding of how even I might be useful in Lucinda’s service. In this regard, I recently journeyed once more to Spellgard to learn more and promptly got involved in another adventure.
On my tour of Spellgard, I found myself drawn to the Tower just as a dispute broke out. I noticed Connor, Katrien and Acacea were there with a group of several others and I of course joined them. There is, apparently, a need to investigate an old legend concerning some long ago strife between Ilsare and The Lady. Apparently that foolish, arrogent priestess of Ilsare had dug some flowers from the Tower grounds. As usual, she acted with no tact or consideration. Her reasons for doing so were clear only to herself. Must controversy and ill-will ensued as a result. After many threats and accusations, the only thing that could be agreed on was that the group had must go deep into the High Forest to get some answers. My only contribution in this endeavor was to lug a drunken goblin wizard halfway across Mistone on my back. Acacea had given him some ale and, well, it did the poor fellow in. I’ve never been one for goblins but this fellow seemed likable enough and he certainly has command of the weave. I was beginning to think this was a waste of my time when some strange and disturbing things began to happen.
First, Acacea remembered a song that transformed and generated enormous power. It was an apparent bond with a flower of blue. An attempt to meet with the same effect with a flower of red just did not work. Strange.
Second, a drow of our party has taken on a fixation with Connor. She has, as Acacea might say, the look of the lovesick or brainsick, in any case obsessed. Her fascination with Connor is, however accompanied with a deep animosity toward Katrien. She has intentionally hurt Kat twice in a minor sort of way and apparently cursed her in drow. I know Katrien can take of herself, but, I will say, I am watching this drow. Katrien is dear to me, and if she harms Katrien, I will put my ax to work.
We eventually made it into the high forest and spoke to the caretaker. The leaders were able to get more information but also many new questions. We will press on.
[notes about accounts to settle ]
[ brewing recipes and lists of ingredients needed]
Laira irilla nyesa filnyn oe sa. Amemwla nyaillean walanymefa iream lenya ean ela ane irecw iram ilvilel, ane oaac anira tyillalaeel, anira amilmsanir eo iram nelala, anira irailan eo iram fewa. Eym anesa anevaaniram amilla ilcc anee ocaaanelv, anee laireman, aaan E amilla malaamaw, milnyirilmvaw. E we lean nleam amirilan tyilanirla E seviran anmilelac ameanir iram fyan E amecc ameccelvca anilna aniras ilcc. E irilela synyir E amelair ane lairilma ameanir iram illw walaemala ane a’tycema. Tyillalaeel. Aseaneel. Silveny.
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I have had time to work on a song.
The words have been with me for awhile, but now I have had the inspiration to couple them with an appropriate melody. Although it is more difficult for me, I think it sounds and flows better in elven and so it will be.
Fa Ausir’la Ceviran
Laira nyesala ane sa el anira wilmn eo leviran.
Irilem lae laeoan, aaala lae fmeviran.
Iram eleenya, iram laseca fa Ausir’la ceviran,
Anirama nyeycw lean fa il oelam laeviran.
Laira laawynyala sa ameanir il ceen illw nelala.
Il silveny anesa E ameycw lean selala.
El iram ilmsla eanla fcelala E oelw.
Nyelanalansalan, tyailnya, ameanirel sa selw.
Laira anilnala sa ane il latyanyeilc tycilnya,
Faaelw ilcc anesa, faaelw ilcc latyilnya.
E nyilma oem iram faaelw ilcc maillael.
E’w amilcn ameanir iram el illa laaillael.
Iream celv seviran anirela tyillalaeel cillaan ?
Ameanir lymanymil, ceela, le laaw ane illan.
I hope she will like it.
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**** Jharl sits in the shadows of a strange tower located somewhere deep in the High Forest. Although there are 12 in the party he sits off by himself, glancing furtively around at the others every few seconds as he tries to write….. The distribution of the group is most strange. Bilvikki sits a bit away from Jharl. He and Jharl exchange worried glances. Savin is busy trying to decipher the runes that encircle the tower, while Brac works relentlessly on the wards and traps of the door to attempt to gain safe passage inside.
As for the others…
Rev and Rolf are side by side under a tree, talking softly and looking only at each other.
Alantha and Connor sit huddled together, oblivious to the rest of the world.
Katrien and Rufus do little but stare into each others eyes.
Acacea is uncharacteristically quiet as all her thoughts are preoccupied with Athus. ****
Lovesick .... I know no other word to describe it. It began simply enough with a duet. Acacea sang the blue song, Alantha the red. When they had stopped: four love struck couples that have seemingly lost all perspective. Talk to them, try to reason with any of them: they will assure you all that all is right and go back to their preoccupation with their newly found ‘partner’. Talk some more to them: you either get angry denials or ignored.
Bil , Savin, Brac, myself were not struck by this strange magic.
Somehow we pushed on deeper into the forest. I know not how we fought our way to this tower past all manner of demons guarding the route, yet here we stand. There is a shrine; seemingly a burial plot behind the tower. Strange runes everywhere. Thankfully Brac and Savin are most competent in matters of the arcane. Bilvikki and I maintain a nervous vigil over the others. Hours have slipped by as Brac works on the door.
Wait. Brac is descending the steps. He has defeated the traps.
Time to move into this tower.
** Jharl puts the journal away, and checks his armor. He then looks at each of the ‘couples’ in turn for a moment, turns to Brac, Savin and Bil and says: “I don’t know what is inside that tower friends but my skill is with this hammer. May the Lady and the Scarlet Hawk watch over us.” He takes a last drink from his canteen, and pulls his helm on secure. He picks up his warhammer and shield and heads for the steps.***
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*** Jharl once again sits outside the tower. His face is the color of ash. What is left of his armor, lies in an almost unrecognizable, discarded heap nearby. He writes with an unsteady hand, his thoughts disjointed, the script almost unrecognizable.***
The Tower ..that accursed tower..
And so Brac'ar defeated the wards on the door. We dispatched Bil's familiar to do did a bit more looking around before charging in. Poor Bilvikki was completely distraught when his familiar was destroyed by a golem. We should have paid more attention.
The other side of the door: A main hall with strange huge statues (or are they golems?) Indoor gardens with herbs --somehow maintained but how ?. More runes. A dead creature (apparently a demon of some sort but with human skin grafted onto it.) The place reeks of death and decay.
Two smaller rooms; one to either side.
The first room: guarded by an iron golem. Inside : glass statues of all manner of creature, notes on enchanting and projecting life forces into golems. It seems some sort of sick wizards playground. Acacea somehow released a small deer from a statue that then bounded into the tower.
The second room: A personal study with notes left that tell of altruistic goals and some sort of betrayal.
We spent hours (or was it a day ?) carefully looking this all over. I must leave it for others to say what was gleaned here.
I think that dank place affected our spirits for we went from caution to foolish abandon as we moved deeper into the tower. I could see two golems ahead and shouted words of caution but to no avail. We were soon overwhelmed by golems..everywhere. I made a stand as best I could. I prayed that the others would get back as I knew my doom approached. The golems knocked me flat and then it was if I were floating free, my spirit unbound. The sounds of battle waned and ceased. Good I think. My death was not in vain ..the others got out. All was quiet for a moment. Peaceful. A golem appeared, cradled my body, and carried it deeper into the tower. Even my spirit became overwhelmed as my body sank into some sort of ooze.
It was only much later that my shaken comrades made their way back into that tower at great peril to find us. Us.. for five of the twelve had fallen in that battle. I know not how they found the courage, the will. Yet they somehow found our bodies ....festering in a pool ...being used for some dark purpose.
I must rest.
We must go back.
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*** The group of adventurers is once again camped out on the riverbank in the gloom of the Tower of Strands. Although Jharl is exhausted, sleep will not come to him. He glances around the campsite at the others: Acacea sits by the light of the campfire softly cooing to Diamond. Brac’ar and Savin are both totally absorbed studying books retrieved from the tower. Connor hovers about a battered Alantha trying to make her as comfortable as possible. Rev and Rolf are still huddled together off by themselves. Katrien sits beside a sleeping Rufus, as if standing vigil. Bilvikki is talking excitedly to Plen about his ‘release’.
Jharl slowly rises, retrieves a log and revives the flagging fire. His eyes briefly make contact with Plen’s, and he manages a grim smile. He then settles back against the tree and finds his battered journal and a quill. A look of concentration crosses his face as he begins to write .***
I know I write this with my thoughts jumbled and confused, but perhaps by putting these words down it will somehow help clear my mind. I think that my words are a poor conduit for what transpired here.
Other adventurers joined us at the tower. They were most welcome as our ranks are depleted by the incapacity of the lovesick. As many were able went once again into that tower. One of the newcomers decided that the dead demon should be examined more closely. His curiosity led to a release of some sort of spores. Several of us then became very ill. I think I eventually collapsed but when I came around I found that my body was transformed to that of a demon. A demon!! First a golem, now a demon. The same fate had befallen Savin. I must admit that I lost all hope at this point but, thankfully my comrades did not. They were able, after much perseverance and the use of a unicorn’s horn, to restore us.
All manner of disaster then befell our group. Person after person succumbed to one trap or another. I think the Soulmother even made claim to a shard of Bivikki’s soul, yet he was not dismayed but proclaimed his ‘release.’
And yet we pressed on in our investigation.
When magical paintings were discovered, the mages, after long debate amongst themselves, attempted to summon what was apparently entrapped there. Every time they would cast their spells though the tower was rocked, as if in an earthquake. They eventually went a bit too far and released an angry entity bent on destroying us all. Ferocious combat followed and our group ended up scattered to all parts of the tower. Again though, the horn of the unicorn prevailed.
Our group reassembled as Brac’ar managed to summon yet another from a painting. She was the ‘owner’ of the tower and knew of none of our troubles. She told a tale of happiness and joy as she planned to wed one of Ilsare soon. (apparently in another time long since past) She talked of yet another tower owned by her betrothed.
So what now ?
Perhaps Brac’ar and Savin will know more soon.
*** Jharl’s mind slowly drift off to another time and place. Thoughts of Ausir’s light shimmering on the still water of a peaceful lake, the sparkling in her eyes, the softness of her touch, a magical night with his ceela. The quill falls from his hand as sleep claims him. ***
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*** Jharl sits at the desk in his room in Leilon. The fire burns low, yet it is enough to keep the chill that rides on the ocean breeze at bay. He thinks for a moment of the words that will conjure light but then glances over at her sleeping form and instead lights a candle. He carefully sets the candle down and shields it so that only enough light to write by remains. He finds a quill, opens his journal and begins. ***
Home at Leilon. I say these words because that is what this has truly become. Home. Never have I known such peace. The world and all its trouble spin as if in a great maelstrom on the sea and yet I find my solace here with her at my side. I think that there are many who would not understand this, indeed would look on us as *ink blotted* …ot what they may think or even say.
She grows weary of the formal instruction yet her tenacity, persistence remains. I am of no value in deciphering arcane phrases in dusty tomes. So I help with the more practical application of her arts. I located a couple of scrolls that proved to be a boon to her, and I think, saved her many months of study. I think she grows used to the hardships of traveling through the wilderness, but if she has not, I have never heard her utter a word of complaint.
The trip with Derrick set new thoughts into my head. It was one that most would call a fools' errand and I cannot say I would disagree, but that thought would never pass my lips. I think the combat was the worst I have ever partaken in. It was a testament to what teamwork and leadership can do for I am sure that few have ever walked away from the depths of that pit. We did. Strangely though, the most telling moment occurred in Arabel as we set off into the wild. Derrick handed Kali his book and told her to carry on if…. That moment above all others stays with me.
Perhaps another fools’ errand looms. I feel a calling, a yearning to get word and news back to my people. I owe them that. I have begun to scout the foothills of the Greypeaks, but all the signs are discouraging. It has become a playground of the ogres and even some giants. I think I will need the help of others to prepare to do what I must. I will discreetly seek the counsel of Katrien and Derrick over the best course of action and tactics. I can not afford to endanger others with this, at least until I know what I may face.
There is a ritual that some in my clan practice when they find one that they *inkblotted* ..... that this ritual is more widely known. I am sure if she does not know of it, that there are those at the temple that can instruct, even perform it.
*** Jharl glances over at her sleeping form and slowly smiles***
Yes, I think I will ask her of this great honor. Tomorrow.
*** He stops and looks a bit at the journal but finds that there is nothing to be added. He carefully puts the ink and quill away and douses the candle. He sits and watches the low shadows playing on the wall for many minutes lost in his thoughts. He then quietly moves back beside her and quickly settles in to sleep ***
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Lucinda provides.
Often have I heard those words, but now I have caught a glimpse of their meaning.
We had gathered for a rare reunion. Tia, Briar, Samir, and I settled in around the fire in the kitchen, snacking on pie, warm mugs of tea all around, talking of things in that comfortable manner of good friends . We were soon joined by two others: Storold and Ma’er .They had heard that Tia was finally home and had ventured to Leilon to greet her. Introductions all around were barely complete, when the summons came.
An official messenger from the church: Tia was needed in Spellgard with all haste. Now I know little of the workings of the Lady’s faith, but a messenger? Only something of major importance would warrant that. We quickly packed and got on the road. On arrival at the temple, Tia was quickly ushered in for a private audience. It was at this time that Ma’er took ill. The healer at the temple took custody of him, expecting that we will recover in a few days. Samir also reluctantly bid us farewell; he had urgent business of his own in Spellgard.
Hours later, Tia emerged, worry and concern etched on her face. She had been charged with investigating a strange illness that was devastating the village of Drake. We traveled there as quickly as we could, to find a horrific scene: Every person was violently ill, even the animals appeared sick. She tried healing some; it had but a temporary affect.
Even as she ministered to those she could, others succumbed, their corpses quickly transforming to undead that tried to strike at us. Now I have seen a lot, but never like this. It was grim work indeed to have to strike down these recently innocent townsfolk we were trying to help that had become such foul apparitions before our very eyes. But at least we now knew two things: some dark necromancy was at work, and that the townsfolk said it had come from the wood.
A hasty conference determined our course of action. We would venture into this wood to find the source of this poison. I looked around at our small band: Storold with his sword and shield, Tia, staff at the ready, and Briar, as always, an arrow notched in her bow.
A meager force to be sure, but lives in Drake were at stake, we must press on.
The woods were haunted with dark unnatural areas, spawning grounds for more undead that dogged our every step. I had no time to concern myself with the nature of this foul use of the weave, I was too busy swinging my hammer in our defense. We ventured by overgrown little used paths that eventually led us to a cavern. Tia and Storold felt that the aura of necromancy was strong here, and I had no doubts that they were correct. We made a hasty camp as best we could and stood watch in shifts, so that Storold might prepare some arcane magic and Tia pray.
When all were rested, we went into that dark hole. We soon found a large chamber with a very sick dwarf lying in the middle of it. He had apparently been battling these undead and was nearly spent. Tia was able to converse with him in his native tongue and he warned her that it would only get worse as we ventured deeper. Tia made him as comfortable as possible and then we moved on to be confronted with legions of skeletons and zombies. We destroyed them. Eventually we reached another chamber that contained some sort of infernal apparatus sitting within a circle. Even my poor sense of the arcane told me of a great anomaly here. This had to be the source of the problem, but what was it and who put it here? Could we destroy it? Should we destroy it?
We decided to see if that dwarf could help or tell more. A hard battle was fought to get back to him, only to find that he had passed on. Then the rumbling and tremors started. Time was running out, but what to do? Another look at that foul machine, perhaps something would …
More undead, more heavy fighting. Storold fell. By the grace of the Lady though, Tia was able to pull him back. Lucinda provides. But now it was obvious to all that we had to leave or be entombed here. Reluctantly, we ventured back outside to our earlier camp. Tia was exhausted, uncertain of what to do next, the burden weighing heavy on her. Briar and I stood a grim watch while Storold recovered from his ordeal and Tia rested and prayed for guidance.
When the dim light of dawn penetrated these dark woods, we broke camp. Tia…. well it was remarkable. Gone was the uncertainty. She said she had prayed for wisdom and that her prayers had been answered. She knew the course we must follow: We four had done all we could, we must head for Drake and thence send word to the temple for those who could destroy this source of darkness. Her wisdom was soon proven correct. Even as we made our way to Drake, we met up with others sent from the temple. They took our report and arrogantly told us to get back to Spellgard.
The reception at Spellgard was at first a bit, well, hostile. The officials there treated Tia and Storold rudely and with little consideration, as if on trial for some crime. I was a bit shocked and not prepared to take that from some bureaucrat in this stuffy temple, church or not. Tia had been out in the field in the toughest of conditions doing good work on their behalf with little support from them. How dare they second guess her? I started to speak my mind but Tia bid me quiet. Apparently, after a lot of unnecessary words, they actually are pleased with our, no, Tia’s actions and in fact are prepared to give her new duties and responsibilities.
Good. They finally come to their senses.
-
Once again I accompanied Tia’Sarr’ru to Spellgard, this time to attend a great conclave of the church. Spellgard was as I had never seen it before; the aura of magic both powerful and ornamental was everywhere. I stood long in awe when I noted that those gathered were the most important in the Lady’s church, the very pinnacle of it’s power and prestige. I realized then why sa ceela had made sure I had this fine suit to wear.
The ceremony went on for hours. Among that Affirmed were Alantha, and Daeron.
Acacea and Ozy were presented as well. Connor also was Affirmed and given a high position in the Tower. He had apparently done great deeds, preserving the weave from some plot of corruption. Tia stood for me as my sponsor. It was most gratifying and yet humbling to receive such public note.
And then Tia’s moment arrived. She received her official recognition and promotion. She has tried to explain the significance of this new title to me but I think it is beyond my ability to understand. What I do know, because I have witnessed it, is that the Lady shows her great favor. And why not? She lives her life as an example of devotion and duty.
I am truly happy for her.
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Sa ceela irilla laireaml sa illeaniram, weooamalan nelw eo meanyilc. Elanesilana, tyeamamoyc, silvenyilc. Ean oyacaw sa, le eym, tyillalaeel fmelvelv ean ane il laam caelac eo elanallaeana. E oaac nycelaam ane iram anirill E aelam anireyviran ean tyelalaefca oem ela ane fa, silveny illa E irilela laelam oacan faoema. Ean ela anmyca ellatyemelv.
Laira irilla irelanaw ilan eaniram aelal sema tyeamamoyc meanala, illw E anireln laira vilaniramla amirilan ela laawaw ane tyamoems aniras tymetyamca. Iram anastyca irilla ilclae tymeselaaw iram laamla amiral anira wilana illw cenyilaneel ill ytynyeselv oalaaneelilc ilma laaanancaw.
E irilela illanaw iram oem iram oilelem el anira silllam eo sa anmefa illw E anireln ceela amilla lean welatycaillaaw ane irailm eo ean.
Laira irilla fanyesa anira selaanmalala eo sa irailman.
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*** Jharl sits alone at a low burning campfire on the outskirts of Haven. To a casual passerby all looks normal. A closer look however, would reveal his tattered, frayed armor and the dried blood still on the axe beside him. If one approached close enough to observe his face, they would take note of someone clearly exhausted, distraught and at the same time on the verge of exploding in anger. ***
E caan iram weaml. Iream nyeycw E irilela faal lae nyilmacalala? Laelam laireycw anirilan falaamnam irilela veananal tyillaan sa, E tyelaeaneelaw salaaco tyeemca, lean fcenynelv anira tyillalailva illa
E laireycw irilela, lae anirilan laira nyeycw ylaa anira amailela el lailoaana.
E amillan ane fcilsa anirilan aco el fcilnyn. Laira ellaelaanaw el anilvvelv ilcelv illw selaanmalala ilvmaaw ane anilna iram. Ela anirilan lean maillael aleyvir ane amacnyesa iram? Aaan E we lean ylwamlaanillw anira aco'la elanamalaan el yla. E anirelv ean feaniramaw sa, il tyilmana ylnleaml, ylanalaanaw oeviranelv ameanir yla. E ils ammelv anireyvir ane caan anirilan welaanmilnyan sa.
Le, anira oilycan, anira lairilsa, anira fymwal ilma sela ane failm. E sylaan we faananam.
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Il veew irylan.
Selaanmalala amilla tycaillaaw ameanir anira lanymecc E oeylw oem iram.
E irilela favyl ane anmilel ameanir anira 'feala' (Wev illw Fmyana), anirilan ama seviran faananam oeviran anevaaniram.
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The Fighter and the Mage
He calls himself the Scarlet Hawk.
She is a child of Xeen.
He wandered from the Greypeaks,
She fled across the sea.
He walked the roads in solitude.
She with her trusted Dog.
A song to keep him company,
No one to know her thoughts.
His prowess is with hammer,
Her skill within the weave.
His hands adept at working wood,
Hers with quill and ink.
They journeyed to Rilara,
A fateful trip indeed.
For there they found true passion,
Fulfillment of their needs.
Now they roam together,
Each stronger than alone.
To her he is sa laanilv.
A team like none before.
Once he stood alone ‘fore foes,
Now she is at his back.
He guards her with his life,
Her magics clear the paths.
She teaches him of many things,
His mind absorbs them all.
He gives her back his loyalty,
His love, his heart, his all.
Who knows where fate might take them?
What might the gods ordain?
Together they will face each test,
The Fighter and the Mage.
-
Sa ceela has decided to seek counsel at the temple. She is unsure how long she might be away. Although I am concerned, my worries are pointless; she will walk within the weave on her journey and both Dog and Brute will answer her summons should the need arise.
The Road to Lar
I came across Tia fishing along the Zainge river. She seems to have mastered the curious art of fishing with a bow. I tried my hand at it but the results were laughable. The fish have nothing to fear when I approach with bow in hand! We had an impromptu fish fry and she brought me up to date on news of the temple. Our talk soon turned to the Greypeaks. We both realized that it had far too many years since either of us had visited there. We each had some time available so we packed some provisions and set out.
The trip to Lar was relatively uneventful. The climb through the mountain pass was difficult as always but only one small band of Ogres challenged us en route. We had no problem dealing with them. Tia and I then toured the fabled town. We journeyed to the statue of Larissa, and made a humble offering. Our reward was a view as fine as any to be found on Mistone. The statues, the Citadel of Dorand, Dawson’s farm, the curious tower; we took them all in.
Lar: cold, snowy, remote, yet …. exhilarating ,invigorating. It seems timeless.
The trip back out of the mountains started off slow and unhurried. We returned by the same paths that we had trod on the way up. We had journeyed about halfway when we decided to stop for a rest and to enjoy the vista of the valley spread out below us. It was then that events began to unfold rapidly.
First a strange figure walked past us. He appeared well armed and confident, yet he spoke no greeting but moved as if we were not there. Shortly after his passing a great host of undead appeared, following as if in his wake. Now Tia and I are well versed in the tactics to deal with these foul creatures and we did so. Although they were powerful, we cleared the trail and made a hasty camp. We then moved on our way only to be confronted with seemingly endless hordes of more undead. Our tactics were sound, yet there is only so much that two are capable of. We were witnessing something far out of the ordinary. We decided to make our escape, get to town and raise the alarm.
Ft. Llast appeared deserted, so we made for Hlint. Shortly after arriving, with barely time for a rest,more undead appeared in the wastelands. A pitched battle was fought, but we did prevail.
There are whispered rumors that Eon was spotted leading this undead legion and of a bloodpool near Storans. Is this bloodpool more than rumor? Could that have been the figure that we spied in the Greypeaks?
-
A happy day indeed, Sa Ceela has returned home. She was able to get the counsel she sought at the temple.
It was my ineptitude that caused the problem. With only the best of intentions, I went too far and hurt her by opening old wounds. It was the last thing I intended and yet it happened. This bothers me greatly because if I know not the boundaries, I might yet again repeat this mistake.
Selaanmalala has assured me that I will soon understand, she will educate me and put this behind us.
But first we shall attend a festival that she has long anticipated.
Good to be back with her.
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Haven
We will make our home in the shadow of Haven castle. In many respects, the location is ideal. The town is well patrolled. The local countryside is rich with the resources she needs for her research and, probably more importantly, it is but a short distance from that center of the arcane and Lucinda, Spellgard.
It also means we can organize our home as we see fit. I will be content with a warm fire and a well stocked pantry, but several of the rooms will be needed for her studies. One will be converted to a library to house her growing collection of manuscripts and tomes. Another may be required as a laboratory to help with her sensitive researches into alchemy. A third, no doubt, will be dedicated to Xeen. We will now be able to properly honor her goddess without risking offending others. While trips to Karthy will still be necessary, they should be less urgent in nature.
The festival: remarkable. Real yet surreal. She was welcomed and honored as a ‘sister’. Yet,despite all of the attention and excitement, ceela was patient. She took time and effort to educate me, to make me a part of all that transpired. I have returned from it refreshed and invigorated, with new insight.
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*** Jharl sits writing, in a ‘guest room’ of the Minaret of Symphony, a half eaten pie at his side. Bilvikki sits huddled in the corner looking around nervously. The only sound to be heard is the faint incessant babble of the halfling in the next room apparently talking to her best friend, a glass statue ***
The Minaret
And so we sought out the second tower, the home of Narsil. It had been cleverly hidden in a cloak of distorted time and space, understood by none of us, and yet found.
The atmosphere around the tower pervaded everyone with an aura of joy. All was beautiful, sunny, radiant. Surreal. Yet entry to the tower itself was warded. Song proved to be the price of admission to the inside.
We had somehow arrived on the eve of the wedding of Emily and Narsil. The minaret is abuzz with fevered preparations. Passing ourselves off as a troupe of musicians hired to play for the wedding, we were granted access. The house musicians were assembled and auditioned for us. Their musical score was hauntingly familiar. While some of us continued the musician charade, the rest slipped off to search the tower.
I was with the group of musicians, but I soon grew weary of the inane banter of the cleric and the halfling, and so I quietly slipped away to see what I might. I soon came upon Brac and Savin feverishly studying a room loaded with all manner of arcane equipment. I would only be in their way here so I decided to move on and look for Connor or Bil .
The Minaret has an indoor garden, the finest I had ever seen. I wandered in and stopped for a moment to decide which way to head. I was about to move on when I saw a hand reach out from a copse of flowers and pick a single white bud. It was Katrien. I moved closer to see her sitting amidst the flowers, flute in hand, a single tear staining her cheek, apparently lost deep in thought. I was about to speak, but immediately thought better of it. She, I think needed to be alone, and I my words would be nothing but a harsh intrusion. I stopped for a minute to make sure she was OK and then quietly went on my way.
We all eventually regrouped and set out to explore the rest of the tower and to find Narsil. Our self appointed leaders tried to glean some information out of him, but stumbled badly in the attempt.
We were soon rounded up by the staff and ‘put away’ for the night.
Katrien and Acacea share the room next to mine, and Bil has managed to hide in my room before we were locked in.
Well at least there is room service.
I suppose I should get some sleep.
-
** Jharl sits leaning against a pillar in the chapel of the ruins of the Minaret. He is haggard, wounded, his leather armor torn . Away to his left lie the lifeless bodies of several of his companions (Katrien, Rufus, Alantha , Fenrir)**
Ceela.. This tower is now in ruins, ruled apparently by hate. The nightmares and horrors we have encountered here are beyond my capacity to describe. *inkblot* been in near constant combat since awakening …. All have fought bravely and we’ve made some progress in understanding what is going on but …. the situation is now desperate. Our band hangs on by only the slimmest of margins.
I have managed to gather their bodies in here where there is some temporary respite….
But how to reunite their spirits ?
I know Connor yet lies out there but a powerful being hovers over him.
Bil, Acacea , Brac and Rev are all that remain accounted for ..and Rev has suffered some sort of shock or curse. She says she cannot restore anyone and one look at her ..well, you know it is true.
Ceela, just know that my love for you is true. May your Mistress Xeen and the Scarlet Hawk watch over you until I might return.
-
**Excerpts from Jharl’s notes at the Minaret**
….I think perhaps all creatures strive for routine and we have settled into one of sorts, even here. We stand our watches and deal with the demons that assail us all too often. I try to take as many of these watches as I can so that the others may concentrate on the arcane arts that may lead to our release from this nightmare…
….all seem to have become quiet, withdrawn, as if seeking counsel within themselves…
..Gestures and movements have now become enough to communicate amongst us. I suppose that is to be expected after all this time here.... Acacea and now also Plen seem to spend more and more time with the unicorn figurine. It used to seem so strange and yet now seems somehow normal…
…Weeks have seemingly come and gone. Sa ceela, I long for your touch, your smile, your voice…
…Brac and Connor, it seems as if they are making progress with this crystal, yet they never discuss it and I will not defile their concentration by asking for explanations that are beyond my ken.… .. must maintain hope, yet Brac has not spoken in days…. Perhaps the whole endeavor may yet be in jeopardy, a waste…
..Rev occasionally brings up the need to find and talk to Narsil. I think deep down we all fear that she may yet prove to be correct . The prospect of that encounter sends shivers…
…Katrien, my old and trusted friend. Connor and I once, in a conversation, said that we would both follow her into hell if need be. It seems we may have done just that. Her flute and music console me, a link to other days and life outside here. I know she is consumed with her own separation from Lisse’; I cannot begin to fathom the pain that must bring. She is happiest it seems when she is able to be close to Rufus and for that I am grateful….and yet ..I wonder if this love or attraction they have can or will endure. I can’t help but think how it was caused by some magic related to what brought us here….
[ A section of lyrics to a song with writing in both common and elven appear here. It is heavily crossed out, marked up and written over ; almost illegible]
..Time: our most precious commodity. It seems as if to have stopped here.. the days drag on ..
-
**an apparently quickly penned entry in shaky handwriting ***
Sa ceela. Fresh air, flowers, birds..
We have somehow escaped this tower of .. false promises and hate. …Another impossible battle with those demons…. Several fell early on, but Plen was able to call on the grace of Katia to restore them. Yet we persevered.
We were headed for the final door and I moved up to support the attack ....That is the last I remember…
They said half of us fell, including Plen. Somehow, though we are out and our group looks to be very battered but intact.
**more entries written a while later in a steadier hand **
I have learned more of how our escape was affected. Katrien and her music proved to be the key. She and Connor somehow lured the demons away long enough with song…
I wish I had been standing to have witnessed that feat, to have lent my voice…
Whispers of bad news…. I am told that Acacea was amongst those that lay dead for a time, cut down when we made our exit. She is even now recovering fast, but Diamond, the unicorn artifact is missing …apparently still in there. All we have endured might be for naught without it.
I think we may be going back.
-
….and so we ventured back to the Greypeaks. I was determined that this time I would not return to the flatlands until I had found my clan. I have located the long forgotten trail…
..We have been on this road for days now. It is discouraging. No sign of life, not even the orcs that used to be here, just the occasional band of ogres. Why do they thrive? Yet, I am sure we are on the right path. Tomorrow we should know the fate of my people…
..topped the last ridge and then we were surrounded by warriors. Scarlet Hawks! They look so young, but grim, determined, shocked to see other than an ogre, astounded when I spoke our traditional tribal greeting…
Despite my fears, Thrandor is very much alive and well! He must be 180 yet he still leads with vigor, wisdom. He viewed Sophia and Samir with suspicion at first, but soon warmed to them. We ate, drank and talked long into the night. I spent hours recounting my adventures and what lies beyond these hills, yet at that, I could only touch on some of the more important…
…that the news was not good. The ogre threat is even worse than I had estimated. Our warriors are hard pressed and the clan has been diminished. The camp itself is secure here and easily defended, but now even boys must stand watch. Of the halfelven, only Thrandor and I remain. The truth is that the tribe is dying…
… Thrandor has not been idle though and has a plan. The clan of the Silver Wolf, long friendly, faces the same threat. Although they have some different traditions, they, like the Scarlet Hawks are a proud and honorable people. Thrandor wishes me to venture to their camp; parley with their chieftain, and conclude an alliance. He urges me to go at once. I see the wisdom in this. Where each tribe faces an uncertain future, together they might prevail…
….have explained the situation to sa ceela. We will set out on the morrow to the Silver Wolf camp…
-
Kelins Inn Krandor
I have signed onto a crew hired to investigate a series of caverns in a place called Hapur. Apparently there is some historical or scientific significance to this site, but the tunnels may yet prove treacherous, so a call has gone out for assistance.
-----------
**Jharl sits with his back against a damp wall in a dimly lit cavern. Most of the party is standing before a strange contraption with a series of colored buttons, puzzled looks on their faces. The woman in red with the torch and the big half orc stand apart from the others, scrawling on the cavern wall with charcoal **
It is amazing that we have made it this deep into this cavern.
Never have I traveled with a party that was so undisciplined or ill prepared. None, save I, even brought along a pick or rope. They argue even now over what button to press next, but the truth is it matters not as they are just guessing anyways.
Still I have gained some respect for that wise cracking rogue. She showed great skill in disarming some very clever traps. I wonder about the sanity of that other with the torch who seems preoccupied with fire. She, with that orc she seems so friendly with, have taken to defacing the walls. This can’t be good.
We have passed through several chambers each warded in a unique way, each with its own sentinel of immense crystal. When we have failed to solve the wards, these crystals have become hostile and are formidable. I think that when we
**The crackle and hiss of a bolt of lightning shooting across the cavern to strike down one of the adventurers quickly ends this update**
-----
**Written sometime later in Hapur **
The last chamber proved the most spectacular. An immense statue of a dragon well lit by orbs of light and a simple chest. Inside: I glimpsed three absolutely beautiful pieces of crystal in the perfect likeness of roses, but before a word could be uttered, she had quickly snatched them up and turned to head out…right into an ambush. If our party had had any sense of cohesion or discipline we might have survived this, but…
I made it back to the surface to find that the camp in utter chaos.
The artifacts and maybe even a person or two are missing.
What a spectacular failure.
-
**Somewhere in Rilara? date uncertain**
One more time back into the tower. We found ..a box. A strangely warded box, but one that no doubt imprisoned the artifact known as Diamond. We scooped up the box and headed out.
When we left the physical confines of the tower we were confronted by a strange spirit. It seemingly took great delight in teasing, taunting, tormenting us with riddles, even as it answered some of our questions. The spirit soon revealed itself as the sentience of the minaret itself.
It soon became apparent to our own adepts of the arcane that the box would have to be opened. The price of admission: each to be subjected to a personal ‘trial by dream’ and a ‘trial by nightmare’, success or failure to be determined by the collective outcome.
It was very troubling to watch each in turn succumb to this ‘dream’ process. Each appeared lifeless, vacant, near death, but yet, beyond any comfort or aid.
I took my turn and endured, dealt with the visions presented. I will not comment of the particulars of my trials. One can only be what one is and must chart his own course. I did, however learn something of myself in this process, so it was not without waste. Yet the ‘tower’ judged me deficient in my response and so pronounced me a failure in its strange scorebook.
When all was done, we had apparently prevailed, though only slightly.
The spirit then went on to explain more of his nature; an apparent construct of sentience that absorbed all that entered the physical confines of the minaret . For many long years all it knew were good, happy, learned. Then one, an elf arrived at the tower, one that brought him new attributes: hate, deceit, greed. These have now become part of its nature.
And now we were to open the box and retrieve Diamond. The spirit told us that any or all might open it, but, that whoever did , the nature of each would somehow be imbued in the result, much as the sentience of the tower is a the sum of its experiences. We started a debate as to how best to proceed. Acacea had strong feelings that several in our party must be excluded from participating as they had qualities that offended her sensibilities. Rev polled us all as to our interest and, one by one, all agreed that we should all share in this for better or for ill.
Acacea promptly opened the box herself.
We were then brought to a place (inside the box ?) , where the unicorn was encircled by 8 pillars and chains. Inscribed on each pillar was text that related to each of our personal nightmares. A drop of our blood was the price to release the chain. We each paid the price.
And then back outside to the minaret. Rev carefully scribed the missing words on the tablets at the base of each statue. With Acacea as the focus, we each took up the song.
It was if the fabric of something, something that should not be torn, was torn asunder. I think we have brought ourselves and the tower back into time, our time.
I have a sense that something is terribly wrong.
-
** On the Isle of Posda **
I read a notice that a new team was needed to help again with the dig, so I again set off to Krelin’s in Krandor. Jack recognized a few of us from the first disaster and was, I think, reluctant to take us on again but in the end relented. The mission was a bit vague this time. We were to rendezvous with a ship Jack had chartered and then investigate the Ilse of Posda. Apparently another of his precious orbs had turned up and may have originated there.
Even the land trip to rendezvous with the charter was not without incident. Twice we were ambushed on the road. Now brigands are not unheard of, but common criminals looking for a quick hit would never choose a well armed party as a target. No, there is something bigger going on here.
A stroke of fortune! Our charter turned out to ‘The Lady’ captained by none other than Silas. No matter what transpires now, I know that we will be in good hands whilst at sea.
Silas took in as close as he dared, but the shallow waters and reefs meant a long pull to shore. Our lack of seamanship quickly showed when we promptly lost the boats after making landfall. An attempt to recover them just put us on the losing side of an encounter with sharks.
We started a search of the isle. At the highest point, we found a camp with some curious notes and a diary. Some one had been digging here, but to what end? The diary told of something found but lost, apparently when they moved it off of the isle. One of the notes appears to be in a form of elven but none of us could translate it. A few undead also harassed us. Why are there are undead here?
My carpentry skills have come in handy. We were able to fabricate a serviceable raft out of the plentiful lumber about but we will not test it till the morrow. For now the shadows grow long even as Orn rises. Some stories by the campfire and a good night’s rest will do us all a world of good.
-
Eleven years.
It seems as if it was only months ago that I cradled Lisse’ in my arms and sang to her with all my heart. Yet somehow eleven years have slipped by. What tricks time seems to play. So much has happened and yet that day I first laid eyes on her is as fresh in my memory as if it were only yesterday.
** Jharl takes a ring out and looks it over very carefully. ‘Bet she would like this. I’ll just need to get it resized.’ He starts to head for the merchant quarter in Pt. Hampshire but then stops and heads for the portal to Pranzis. He mutters to himself ‘I’ll find me a real jeweler in Pranzis.' **
-
** Somewhere in the forest: Jharl looks in disgust at the broken axe in his hand. He searches his pack for another one but comes up empty. He starts to gather the wood together, but then stops and instead sets a campfire. Calling to Tia to take a break, he settles in to cook their simple but hearty supper. ***
Seventeen axes so far and the work is not but half done. Where do these halfling merchants get this junk they sell anyways?
Thank the gods this wood is bountiful. Perhaps it is that Katia has seen the need and has made it so, for the trees’ sacrifice means life to others.
I have pledged my labor and skill with woodworking to provide what I might for the people of Roldem and I intend to keep at it until the need is met. Tia is here with me, never a word of complaint, helping at every task.
I think I’ll take a journey to Roldem some time. I never did see it properly. Just that hurried expedition to recover the soul ahead of Blood on the eve of his invasion those many years ago.
** He puts the journal away and settles into quiet conversation with Tia, the topics: nothing and everything, as is the manner between old friends **
-
** Jharl removes his long neglected journal from the locked chest. He carefully brushes the dust off of it and slowly flips through the pages, occasionally reading a passage or two. After a lot of thought he finally opens it to a new page on which he scribes a single sentence.**
Broegar would have done better to have executed me.
** He replaces the tome in the chest and then takes a simple parchment on which he scribes the following :
Sa Ceela,
If you have need of me, I will be in Hlint or Port Hampshire at the work halls.
I will be seeking some reliable craftsmen with whom to negotiate contracts.
-- Jharl --
He hands the note to the halfling servant: "When your mistress arrives, see that she gets this."
He then pulls on his hood and wraps the shimmering cloak of ocean blue tightly around himself and steps out the door into the unseasonably chilly air. **
-
I've changed.
I think it happened when we were held by Broegar and his minions.
Since then I have found new power in song that I have yet to come to terms with.
It is both marvelous and terrifying.
And yet ... I feel I have lost something too.
But there is no going back.
_______________
Rumors and whispers of old threats new again.