The World of Layonara
Character Development => Development Journals and Discussion => Topic started by: geloooo on November 12, 2008, 03:03:34 AM
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[INDENT][SIZE=32]The Journal of a Charlatan [/SIZE]
Journal Entry Number One
Translated Into Common
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[SIZE=13][INDENT]Only the cunning survive within the treacherous walls of Eilndar – wherein treachery takes form within the minds of each individual, conniving and scheming at every step to achieve more power. In terms of deception and manipulation, House Helvivirr claims higher ground for controlling half the territory through well performed and well executed subterfuge. Although, when the need is dire, relentless savagery is always a determining factor in order to obtain victory within the confines of the Dark Elf society.
My name is Ni’haer Helvivirr, son of Phaeryl Helvivirr and Vasriia Helvivirr; I am born of nobility in a world wherein even family members are vying for more power and control. Born into a house that used trickery and deceit more often than direct hostility to meet its goals, and trained in the basic necessities to survive; as some would say, “A weak Dark Elf is better off dead.” My father had high expectations of me for his future plans; frankly, I beg to differ, I refuse to be his puppet, and I have other plans for myself. He taught me that the pursuit of dominion can only be achieved at the expense of others and not yourself; the lower races as well as your kin are tools for which you can consolidate and expand your control over others. Growing up in a harsh society, I eventually came to develop and use the lessons I have been taught to suit my own goals and reap the benefits. Perhaps in another world, my father would be proud, but I could care no less for his favor or this infernal hovel we call a city. I care not for the politics, or control over the Talthara; but rather I desire to benefit from the conflict created by these simpletons.
My matron and patron often treated each other with spite, although they would not show hostility directly at each other, they would scheme the demise of one another underneath the table. Nonetheless, I revered them for their precise and well executed plans to vie for more power. Such ingenious and creative concepts often led to more chaos within the houses; one such incident involved an assassination attempt on my father, to his surprise, the assassin adorned the insignia of our rival, House Phyristra, this resulted into a futile skirmish. Eventually I found out that it was my mother who hired the assassin. Apparently it was not in her original plan to start conflict between the two houses, but rather it gave her a distraction and allowed her to sever a few potential threats. I find it funny that such naiveté could bring forth such chaos.
I never really had a beneficial relationship with my siblings, and they often reviled my existence. They were stuck within a web of death and treachery, and as I grew up I watched the demise of sibling after sibling. The only sibling I grew fond of was my older brother Liilirion, and he was a wizard, studying at the Eilndar Magthere. He often showed me the spells that he learned and hoped that I would be able to go into the academy as well. Amidst all that, he often delighted in setting things on fire, hurling fireballs at the goblin slaves amused him very much. While showing me magic, he would taunt me and encourage me to grow in power. Unlike the others, he never tried to harm me, but rather he wanted me to grow in power.
Roughly an infant to the eyes of elders, I was 96 when I discovered I had the potential for sorcery, at first I was fearful of my fate, but in due time I embraced my gift. I was tasked to oversee the slave quarry and see firsthand how they function. I was examining the slaves work when a Goblin slave suddenly came rushing towards me. The Goblin jumped on top off me attempting to claw me to death, I managed to push back the cretin, and eventually another Goblin decided to come and help. Tattered and cut, I ran towards the mineshaft knowing that the darkness will give me an advantage. To my dismay, the Goblin followed me inside, the Goblins cornered me and I tripped on a rock. I was trying to subdue one Goblin in an attempt to disarm the cretin of the rock and stand up; I was caught off guard when the other Goblin hit my leg with a rock. I was agitated and infuriated that in a sudden stroke of fate, a blast of cold ice, concentrated into a straight ray shot out from my hands towards the Goblin; thrown into the other side of the wall from the force, the Goblin was no longer alive. The other Goblin fled in fear, out of anger and through sheer force of will, I unleashed upon the Goblin the same blast of cold ice, thus ending its life. Bruised with a few cuts, I emerged from the cave as something with powerful potential, a sorcerer with the ability to manipulate the arcane through pure talent and will for lack of a better term. Word spread about my innate ability within the house, and things started to change; more people respected me as an individual and Liilirion grew spiteful and envious of me.
“One must have a purpose or be killed,” that is one of the many basic lessons my father taught me; fear is the weapon used to enforce such an ideal. My father often loathed the site of me honing my magic; he claims that my allegiances lie not in the Prince of Hate or my people but rather to my insatiable thirst for more magic. As punishment for this and in hopes of conversion, he would lash me before the daily temple rituals start, and as he was at the very momentum of his rage, he would stop and say “Pathetic, you will eventually serve your purpose for this house, you will become my weapon, and once you have fulfilled your duty, I shall have no more use for you. Soon, you will die, either by my hands or in The Test, and I shall be there watching.” Such a narrow-minded little man to say the least, eventually someone will kill him, and I will watch closely as the vicious cycle tears him apart.
I was considered to be an outcast of society regardless of how some respected me for my sorcery, although nobility, I was given no such treatment by my parents. I was a very distant child, indifferent if one would were to personify me; regardless of this, I was no different from my kin when it comes to ruthlessness and deception. I grew to be very perceptive of the surrounding world; perceptive to the extent of being inquisitive of things. This often led to me getting beaten by skeptical and secretive members of the clergy. In order to retreat from all the turmoil, I sought the company of Archmage Vesz and other practitioners of magic; I never trusted them regardless of how they treated me, they’re all alike and they all sought to destroy each other. The Archmage in particular interested me; he can be a formidable ally or perhaps a pool of knowledge ready to be siphoned. During my time with them, I grew to learn more about the arcane arts to be able to manipulate and unleash the magical energies in a more sophisticated manner as opposed to being unstable and inconsistent; at that point in time I considered myself a learned sorcerer. Although mediocre, one proves to be capable when one is able to get the job done with what little one has.
I was taught a wide array of things, all of which is required of a male Dark Elf – the doctrines of Baraeon Ca’Duz, the laws imposed upon the houses, the ideals of a Dark Elf, and the various languages that are essential to one. I grew tired of the priests constantly haranguing me about Baraeon Ca’Duz and his glory; frankly, it didn’t interest me at all. I excelled in the conceptual lessons that required trickery and cunning, which gave me an advantage during most times. Along with those lessons, I also enjoyed learning how to speak Dark Elven and Elven in a more educated and sophisticated manner. With those two languages, I reveled in learning the common language as well as the intricate postures of the Silent language so that I may use them during raids on the surface. Through these lessons, my instructors had high hopes for me as well as my fellow students to be sleeper agents on the surface, true enough that I would use such tools to spin webs of intrigue and deception. As much as I enjoyed their lessons, I couldn’t care that much about their desires.
Years passed and I adopted a hedonistic nature; unsatisfied with the world around me, I languished myself with every possible experience there is. A hole has grown within me so deep that it cannot be filled, not even the simple pleasures found in this pit. Eventually, I realized that I was sowing my own destruction, and that I forgot my heart’s true desire – magic. After this realization, I proceeded to tune my self-awareness in order to manipulate more magical energies into more complex and destructive forms – confidence and self-awareness makes a sorcerer.
I grew weary of the derelict city I called home, it’s always the same thing over and over again – someone would gain more control than the other houses, and the cycle repeats itself until someone gains more power. Even the magical society is like so, mages killing other mages in order to obtain bragging rights and spread fear. Although I condone this method of self benefit, all the senseless and repeated savagery prevented me from furthering my arcane development.
One day, I was woken up by the First Patriarch’s liaison, and as I feared, it was time for The Test. I was brought before the First Patriarch, I have never met him before, but I presumed he was like my father, blinded by zeal and numbed by faith. I was taken to the Hall of Poisons – a beautiful hall illuminated by an eerie green light that emanated from the cracks, embellished with ornate designs, and filled with webs and spiders. The First Patriarch stood tall at the end of the hallway but was veiled by the darkness. I approached him and to my surprise, it was not who I expected it to be – instead I found a statue of Baraeon Ca’Duz.
Out of the darkness, the clerics and the First Patriarch emerged while uttering a language that I am not versed with. Slowly, my body was becoming heavy, the floor I stood upon was covered with a spider web that glowed green, and the statue’s eyes glowed green as well. The First Patriarch and his clerics disappeared into the darkness, and I was left alone with the statue. The eyes of the statue steadily glowed until it focused its glow on me, my body stiffened and I was in a haze, as if I were in trance. At that point in time, I was under the shadow of the Prince of Hate himself. Under a deep haze, I fell unconscious; my life was handed over to Baraeon Ca'Duz, my judge and executioner.
I woke up in my chambers as if it was all a bad dream; apparently I passed for I was still alive. I was so weak, as if I was struck with a Feeblemind spell. I felt a sense of alleviation, as if I had just cheated death. But still, regardless of the outcome, I was still fearful for myself.
A week later, while observing two wizards banter about whose magic is more potent, I was summoned by the First Patriarch again. Apparently, I was not the only one to be summoned, a huge number of my kin were summoned as well; apparently, he was not finished with us yet. We were to take part in another test, perhaps this one isn’t as mind boggling. This made perfect sense, the First Patriarch is planning to eliminate all future threats, how shrewd; by minimizing the number of adult Dark Elves, all houses will lose a number of potential soldiers, ingenious indeed.
Without hesitation, the second test was commenced; all of us were separated into pairs, and were blindfolded in preparation for the test. My blindfold was removed and I gazed upon a tremendous sight, we were taken to a balancing beam in a very deep chasm. Obviously, the main objective is to survive and dispatch the other; the moment the priests rang the bell, my opponent and I froze in order to maintain the balance. He stared at me with such a vile ambience, while raising his sword at me; he claims that the faster person will be the victor, perhaps he didn’t account for the weight of his weapon and armor. Apparently, he was wrong, because as soon as he ran for the edge, I made my way slowly towards the edge so as to shift the balance and obviously, the beam tilted, and as soon as it did, he fell into the chasm while I managed to grasp the edge of the rails. Such a pity, he was indeed fast, but an imbecile nonetheless.
After the first trial, they took us all into a colossal chamber with four passages; three are adorned with ornate symbols, and exuded the stench of blood, while one was the passage we came from. As soon as we reached the chamber, the priests exclaimed, “Sway from the path laid before you and you shall be torn apart by your own selfishness.” As soon as the priests were done, they all disappeared into the darkness. Baffled by what they just heard, nearly half the men went through the three passages. Once they got through, the passages were magically sealed shut, and blood flowed through the cracks. Only 6 of us were left, and obviously, the only way to go to is through the way we came, once we made our way out, the priest was already waiting for us at the amphitheater. He explained it thoroughly that to go against tradition would result to death; those who went through the three doors were either drawn to them or were just half-witted. I felt a cold chill up my spine; I realized that regardless of whether I make it to the surface or not, eventually my brethren will find me.
The amphitheater was trembling from the loud chatter of the spectators; apparently, we were to duel until the First Patriarch is certain that we have proven ourselves to the Prince of Hate. While waiting for the gates to be opened, we were separated into teams of two; I was teamed up with Laele, a cleric of Baraeon Ca’Duz and Njutar, a fighter, both of them from a rival house. In order to organize the team properly, Laele made it clear that failure will result in no quarter for all of us. A momentary truce was acknowledged by everyone and that after the final trial, we would all become enemies again. The bells clang and the iron gates were open; we descended outside slowly and cautiously, the air was still and filled with the stench of rotting flesh. The other gate opened and our opponents descended from the darkness, two brutish fighters and a rogue. The bells clang once again and the battle had begun, the two fighters immediately rushed towards us, one of them nearly cleaved my head but Laele parried the attack. Njutar and Laele dealt with the two brutes while I was to support them and incapacitate the rogue. If I didn’t do anything quickly we would lose our lives, running towards them, I cast a Light spell and managed daze the two fighters, giving Njutar a chance to deal the killing blow. Unfortunately, Njutar also exposed himself and was stabbed in the back by the rogue; the crowd roared in excitement as their bodies fell on the ground. Laele was concentrating very hard, and was inflicting magical wounds on his opponent. The fighter eventually fell on the ground, and I unleashed upon him a Ray of Frost spell which ended his life. After I cast the spell, the rogue managed to stab me in the back. I fell on my knees, and I was slowly weakening, but luckily, Laele was able to heal my wound, which gave me enough strength to cast a Sleep spell on the rogue. Laele was about to bludgeon the rogue when the First Patriarch called for a halt, sparing the rogue’s life and signaled that the savagery was over. I never felt so tired and exhilarated at the same time, as if the life has been sucked out of me and yet I yearn to move on; I commend the First Patriarch’s cunning plan, but it will take more than three trials to get rid of me.
Years passed, and I sought an escape from this world in perpetual struggle; I desired a place wherein I will no longer be hindered by these simpletons – I sought the surface world. I immediately devised a plan that would allow me to leave Eilndar and make my way through the surface world. I struck a deal with Matriarch Volthrae of House Phyristra; in exchange for unhindered access to the House she would give me the keys to the southern gate, which will allow me to leave for the surface world safely while at the same time stir enough chaos to keep the sentries pre-occupied. Of course, I expected treachery from her and I warned my family of an imminent attack on the compound. Believing that a surprise attack comprised of her and a few of her best would be enough eradicate our house; she foolishly entered the compound and suffered a savage ambush. As soon as the savagery was over, I quickly took the key from the matriarch’s corpse before the slaves cleaned up the mess. Seeing that it would be the perfect time to eradicate House Phyristra, my mother sent all of her minions to war. Bringing with me all the necessities I would need, I watched from afar as a battle raged on the streets of Eilndar. As I entered the new world, I placed myself at risk, I’m sure my brethren are going to hunt me, and by the time they reach me, I shall be ready to silence them one by one.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Two [/INDENT]
[INDENT]I left for the surface world in hopes of honing myself and understanding more potent forms of magic. For days I ventured from tunnel to tunnel until I stumbled upon the southern opening. I was struck blind as I surfaced from the cave; the bright light was too much for my sensitive eyes. As I regained sight, I was in a place unlike any I've seen - trees as tall as pillars, ground bustling with vegetation, and a settlement unlike any I've seen. Disgusting as it was, I would not let certain eye blights hinder me from my goal.
The settlement I stumbled upon was named Fort Vehl, it was bland, and was full of shady people; it was like the bazaar in Eilndar, except it was bustling with the lesser races. I explored the fortress and stumbled upon many interesting things, I sported a new robe that might blend well with my copper helmet, perhaps once I earn more money I can get a more elaborate disguise. Through my sight-seeing, I stumbled upon the jail, and a very disgruntled guard. Apparently, someone was jailed for reasons I do not know; the guard questioned me as if I were on trial, luckily I was able to disperse from the situation as soon as possible.
After the debacle in the jail, I stumbled upon an unfamiliar sight. I concluded that the person might have been a male Human paladin. He didn't seem to notice that I was a Dark Elf, which meant that my disguise was working perfectly, although we did have a little debate on how one view things within the perspective of a deity. I was tasked with recollecting mummy dust from the local crypt, and he was kind enough to accompany me for he needed some skeleton knuckles along the way. The crypt had a foul stench and as soon as we descended within its depths, skeletons emerged from every corner. I was roughened up and was on the verge of bleeding to death; luckily, the paladin is capable servitor. Such a cheeky fellow, very adept in the arts of swordplay, and was blinded by his faith, such a pity. I was very fortunate indeed to have eluded him, and I hope others aren’t as keen.
We emerged from the crypt and I had completed my task, he had to go tend to his rituals and sought his deity's temple. As I was about to leave the crypt, I beheld a hooded figure clad with black robes walking towards me. I presumed that the person might not be a potential risk to me. In search of skeleton knuckles as well, I accompanied the person in hopes of being able to learn more about his mysterious demeanor as well as earn a loyal companion; a loyal companion or rather a social circle would keep me safe from those that would sought to kill me. After raiding the crypt, we sought for work from various townsfolk. Along the way, we met more and more people, and each one as colorful as the next one. Eventually, my companion had to take his leave; he was a mysterious fellow, shrouded by mystery and only revealing a few aspects of his persona to the public, often the most comedic ones.
I sought to finish more tasks so that I may establish myself within the surface world slowly, and along the way I stumbled upon three travelers and a Troll. I’ve met the three travelers not so long ago; they were being halted by a bridge Troll which claimed the bridge for itself. As usual, a Troll will never be civil, and after being persuaded to take fish in exchange for safe passage, the vile thing demanded the female traveler. As always, hostility ensues and the Troll gets killed, such a pity, the fool could have avoided getting killed should it have let us pass freely. [/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Three
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[INDENT]Somehow the surface world is not as ruthless as the Deep, but still there are risks. If one was to compare and contrast both of them, one would not have the courage to go wandering about unfamiliar territory within the Deep, whereas in the surface world, the risks are still prevalent, but the chances of experiencing a horrendous and mutilating death are fairly less. It puzzles me as to how these lesser races manage to do things on a daily basis; without any slaves around, apparently one must tend to matters of such minuscule importance. After a certain task, and as mind-raking and stressing it may be, I am always left with a sense of fulfillment within me. Perhaps I have been traveling with that Human for too long that I’ve become accustomed to his idealism. This is not good, and for the first time in my life, I am confused – confused like a young whelp in a dark cave.
I noticed that in this world, greatness is achieved by the effort one puts into furthering one’s self as opposed to destroying all competition and reaping the spoils in the Deep. I suppose it’s a mixture of both, eventually I may come across someone who may be a threat to my development or even my survival. Speaking of survival, more and more people have been questioning my birthplace, although I encourage curiosity, their curiosity might be the end of me. While on the outskirts of Krandor, I stumbled upon a bedazzling sight – a figure clad in black robes, female, and to my surprise it was one of my kin, for she flaunted her face freely as if she was Az’atta. I was awestruck, and after greeting them, I just stood back and watched as she exercised her freedom. With no one to hold you back, no one to discriminate you, one can accomplish many things and not be limited by certain restraints, perhaps one day I will be able to be powerful enough to exercise such freedom.
After my encounter with the Dark Elf female, I looked around for work, and was assigned to recollect the Oil of Vukas in the Hammerbound Peaks. Knowing that it is impossible to accomplish such a task alone, I sought the help from two familiar faces – Bellethiel, an Elven ranger, and her companion Fehriel, a Human tainted by blood from the pits. Seeing as how a group of three will be insufficient, we enlisted the help of three more capable people. Apparently, a group of six was not enough to brave the dangers we faced; not even reaching halfway, we decided to fall back and concluded that the quest was too dangerous.
Disappointed, I decided to leave for Fort Vehl, to look for someone that is more suitable for the job. On the way to Fort Vehl, while on the outskirts of Krandor, I witnessed a tower just off the road; it had an eerie feeling to it, surrounded by dead trees, apparently the only dead trees within the vicinity, and enveloped by fog. Somehow, I was drawn to it, and like minnows in a pond, time stood still for me. I felt a sense of peace as well as a creeping urge that was eating me inside and telling me to go towards it. I devised a plan that would ensure my safety; I summoned my familiar, Faer, and possessed him while leaving my body at a safe distance, that way no harm would befall me. I made my way towards the tower and to my amusement nothing harmed me; although I did feel a small tinge in my spine as I read the sign. Returning to my body, I immediately made my way towards the Tower of Darkness, as it was named in the sign; a little bit melodramatic to be honest. But to my dismay, the tower was locked; I was relieved that I did not have to enter it, knowing that my curiosity might lead me to my doom. Relieved, and with a heavy heart, I continued my course towards Fort Vehl.
Arriving in Fort Vehl, I was weary, and somehow disappointed with myself. Taking refuge behind one of the shacks near the crafting house, I took off my helmet and wore my old robes. I took a good glance of my face reflected off of my helmet, and I could not help but contemplate.
How far have you fallen; how long must it take before you are satisfied? Why must you risk so much just being indifferent? How long until they find you? If they do find you, what will you do? Will you be stronger by then? Or will your efforts prove insufficient?
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Four[/INDENT]
[INDENT]As I travelled from settlement to settlement, slowly I’ve become more situated within the local folk of the continent. Accepting tasks for a price, I hoped to learn more about the territory as well as find suitable rewards that may amplify my sorcery to a more substantial rate. I yearned to scour the continents of Layonara from corner to corner just to find certain locations and artifacts. Perhaps I digress from my main goal by seeking such things, but still, all in due time; I’m sure along the way I am bound to encounter forces that will put my sorcery to the test, as well as allow me to reach deeper into it.
Hoping to finish my task, I proceeded to collect some more corpses for the medicine man, and I managed to collect two corpses in Krandor with help from a passerby. I’ve managed to procure three corpses by then – two from my own doing, and one which was given freely by Fehriel. I still needed two more to finish the task, and since I already exhausted a few graves in Krandor, I made my way to the graveyard in Hlint instead. As I dug out the corpse, a silhouette burst forth from its chest – to my shock, it was an Allip. In hopes of escape, I enveloped the entrance of the graveyard in darkness and proceeded for safe ground in order to regain my strength. Hopefully, no one saw me perform such a feat. Ready to face the apparition, I made my way to the graveyard; but instead of an apparition, I saw a Halfling in its stead, apparently it was the Halfling paladin we asked for aid in our little expedition to the Hammerbound Peaks. The Halfling slew the Allip and as I presumed was waiting for the culprit to be questioned, thus leading to a heated debate regarding society’s laws. Eventually, I had to run off seeing as how the Halfling will not stop at anything – he even resorted to watching the graveyard, that’s how relentless he is.
With the Halfling guarding the graveyard in Hlint, I made my way back to Krandor and check the other graves I missed. I managed to find two fresh graves, I proceeded to dig the first one and a Wraith came bursting from the soil; this time I came prepared with my panther familiar, Faer, and we managed to fell the phantasm. Only one more to go and I grew impatient, I rushed off and dug the next grave I saw, and this time a Specter arose. I was overconfident in my abilities and it led to my undoing. I was dead, and for a few seconds I caught a glimpse of the Specter as it slaughtered the cows, along with two figures approaching from a far. I fell into a deep void, I felt nothing, and I could not think of anything – basically, I was at a state of nothingness. A few moments later, I awoke in Hlint, next to the bindstone, as if I just woke up from a bad dream, a very bad dream. I was very disgruntled, flurries of emotions were flooding my system, and it rendered me incapable of thinking quite well. With little strength I had, I trudged back to Krandor, and like a hollow husk, I felt incomplete and weak.
By the time I reached Krandor, the Specter was no longer there, I suspected that the Halfling paladin was at work yet again. Although, my thoughts were still a bit hazy, I remembered two figures approaching from a distance before I was struck down, so the Halfling could not have been present. Regardless, knowing that the threat has been dealt with, I went on with my task and collected the last corpse. Regaining my strength and self-awareness, I made haste to Fort Vehl so as to avoid suspecting citizens or paladins. Perhaps my luck has been cut short today, cut short by the paladins or perhaps myself. Paladins, they will be the bane of my existence, if only they would be more cooperative.
Finally accomplishing the task, I sought to explore more of Mistone and maybe even get to see some more fascinating sights; eventually, I decided to explore the areas outlying Spellgard. Before leaving, I sported myself a new robe and a new hood so as to intimidate others, perhaps now people will think twice before they claim me as a cheap conjurer; although I think I may have added too much black which may lead to me being questioned more. As I reached Fort Llast, I stumbled upon a familiar sight; it was my mysterious friend, who calls himself “X” as I remember. In search of adventure himself, he accompanied me in my wanderlust. Seeing as how we already explored much of Mistone, he brought me to Mariner’s Hold, a harbor in the continent of Alindor. Seeking work and funds as well, we stumbled upon a farmer as we saw a majestic river, and apparently, the farmer requested his scarecrows to be eliminated. Perplexing as it is, I presumed it was the work of one who dabbled in necromancy, or perhaps other branches of the Al’Noth, as some may call it. Either way, we still attempted to do the task regardless of the risks. As soon as we entered the field, towering scarecrows came hovering towards us, somehow they emitted such a horrifying aura, we were obviously ill-prepared for what we faced. Seeing my companion run and tremble with fear I sought to buy him some time by drawing more of the scarecrows towards me while I plunge the area in darkness, giving him enough time to flee and cast an invisibility spell. The plan did not work so well for me, although, my companion managed to cast the invisibility spell, I was not too fortunate. I was cornered and trembling in fear, I fled, and in one fell swoop I was flanked and saw my surroundings fade into darkness, yet again.
Yet again I have been overconfident and got myself killed, but still, the Soul Mother was merciful and did not take a piece of my soul. Acknowledging defeat, and sticking to the original plan, my companion and I parted. As I write this, I cannot help but feel as if something is amiss.[/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Five[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Society’s laws have their ways of hindering you, and as always, there are loopholes to them. I received a parcel from package master Freya, and to my shock, it was to be delivered to Mo in Port Hempstead. Without hesitation, I immediately took a boat from Fort Vehl to Port Hempstead, and as soon as I got off, the guard began to question me. Such a brutish and uncivilized guard he was, with his tempers flaring, as if the city was under attack. I quickly thought of a clever ruse so as to elude the guard. I said that I was an envoy from Alindor who was not aware of the rules in Port Hempstead; with that, I was bound to specific rules, and if he were to touch me, he would risk plunging the two continents into conflict. After a heated debate, he allowed me passage to deliver the parcel, provided that he escorts me. These simpletons complicate things so much, but it amuses me so to twist them with deceit.
After delivering the parcel, I stumbled upon more trouble; it seems that I have a capacity for getting myself into trouble, and if I keep it up, I will most likely end up dead. I stumbled upon a group of people – Fleur, a Human mage, the Halfling paladin, and a cleric, both of which were in servitude to Toran. I approached them in hopes of having them as companions in some adventitious expedition. Instead, they asked me for my full name in order to finish filing their report; I was shocked at this insidious incrimination. I am well aware that I did something wrong and I hoped to pay reparations as well as fix the problem before it caused further damage; I even talked to the cleric after the incident, and he said nothing about filing a report. I analyzed the situation carefully, and obviously, after the report, a trial will be in order, and after that I fear that worse will become of me. In my defiance, I sought to delay them, and bluff as much as I can; I even resorted to giving out my fake alias, "Njurast Vhaj". When worse comes to worse, the hostilities heated up, and the two enforcers of the law grew impatient; I was being aggravated, and I was running out of tricks. Luckily, people came to my aid, two ignominious people along with X, arrived just in time. The two people defended me and placed me under their protection, I was in awe that such people would defend me.
Awestruck, I owed the two strangers my life; they both donned dark clothing, and rather ominous trinkets. They claimed themselves to be Lord Domino and Count Czukay, both of them hailing from the continent of Dregar. Explaining their view on society’s laws, I saw much of myself in both of them, if only I was as powerful. I was at awe, and so was X, for never have we seen such people, people who would stand up against the blind atrocities of the law. Since I first stood on the surface world, I wore a disguise to hide my features, and for the first time, I removed my hood to show my true face to the people whom I owed my life.
Although I don’t share in their philosophies, I could not care any less, I was more concerned with my life, and the probability that those two law enforcers will bring with them more company to bring me in. Nonetheless, I was at the company of kindred spirits, and they welcomed me with open arms. Regardless of all this hospitality, my Dark Elven instincts still linger, kindred spirits they may be, I shall be on the watch for treachery.
After much discussion, X and I were pointed towards a tribe of Goblins that may be able to help us hone our skills. We were placed within the ranks of Mangle-Or and Grovel Foaming Wolf; back in the Deep, Goblinoids were enslaved, and to my surprise, these two showed a sense of intelligence and ability. At first I didn’t expect much from the two Goblins, but when I saw them in combat, I was impressed at their incredible powers; from then on I had a different outtake on both of them. Planning a little skirmish, we aided them in raiding the Red Light Goblin tribe’s caverns; convenient for me, since I was tasked with silencing their leader. Corridor to corridor, we fought Goblins, and slowly, I felt a twinge in my magic – this I realized when I attempted to use a drop of bat guano to ignite a flame, and instead I shot out a fireball, thus began my bliss in engulfing things in flames.
While in the last cavern, an old lady approached us as she emerged from one of the corridors. It was very unusual to have an old Human female in a cave infested by Goblins, and apparently, she was welcomed by them for being wise. Without proper introductions, she started questioning us why we were there, as well as blabber about wisdom and how we’re not wise; she even had the nerve to call me young, when she is but an infant to my eyes. She interests me, I presumed she was a powerful mage and was there to elude us; but to my dismay, she gave up and just left. Grovel seemed to like her and was eager to learn her secret to wisdom, which led to a futile attempt to reason with the resident Goblin leader; eventually, we slew the leader and reaped the spoils.
Today was very beneficial indeed, I made some new allies as well as some enemies; I will be seeing more of that Halfling and his friend from now on, and I hope I shall have my companions to protect me, for now I shall continue on my pace. Soon I shall be powerful enough to defy those two, and with my performance in the Goblin caverns, it appears that my progress has already bore fruit.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Six
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[INDENT]I paid a visit to the bank and I noticed that I only have a mediocre amount of resources, if I am to procure more magical items I would need more. I was at the docks in Fort Vehl when I stumbled upon the crypts, and I remembered that most adventurers venture in there to collect skeleton knuckles for brewing potions; what kind of potions they brew, I’m not quite sure. I’ve been to the crypts twice and it amazes me at the amount of undead in there, it’s as if there’s a whole army of undead buried beneath Fort Vehl – unrelenting and undying. In hopes of gathering enough knuckles, I sought to practice my control over the Al’Noth – learn to react faster and target enemies at the right moments. Things went well, and surprisingly, I plowed through the frail skeletons without much effort. To my dismay, I’ve caused too much destruction with my fireballs, which in turn incinerated most of the loot some skeletons contained. Such a pity really, I am becoming more dangerous as it is, even to myself; perhaps I should take different evocation spells, all in due time.
Looking for people to amuse myself with, I stumbled upon a group of adventurers in the Stormcrest Crossroads. A familiar sight, I saw Bellethiel and Fehriel together with a hooded figure; I presumed she was a powerful wielder of the Al’Noth. Her name was Mirren, and she excelled in the arts of conjuration; a craft that manipulates wherein one manipulates that uses the Al’Noth in summoning creatures to do one’s bidding. She was on her way to slay some Umber Hulks; her motives for doing so, I have no idea. I offered my services to her in hopes of observing her conjuration skills at their prime.
Fehriel and I accompanied her while Bellethiel stayed behind to rest. As we were about to journey onward, we were drawn to the sight of Bellethiel and an unknown stranger, because of this, Fehriel presumed she was in trouble. Apparently, it was nothing but another person seeking advances to Bellethiel and with this, Fehriel was perplexed. Frankly, I couldn’t care any less for their problems in mating for I have more important matters to tend to. Infuriated and confused, Fehriel immediately left the crowd, Mirren and I soon followed. Preparing for the brawl ahead of us, I was surprised to see that Mirren didn’t wield a weapon, but rather she just casts an Invisibility spell on herself and summons a creature to do the fighting for her – a celestial avenger named “Crunchy”. As we entered the caverns wherein the Umber Hulks resided, we saw a Xorn, a hideous creature with three arms and three legs; I’ve only seen a few of them outside the walls and caverns of Eilndar before, and they can be very dangerous. Hacking the Xorn into bits and pieces, the celestial made short work of the vile creature; I was impressed, and I learned to put more faith into conjured creatures rather than evocation spells. Deeper into the cavern, we encountered Umber Hulk masses upon each cavern. Fehriel charged towards the first Umber Hulk he saw but as soon as he lunged with his blade, he was overcome by the confusion. Umber Hulks are such fascinating creatures for they make use of a gaze that renders their prey confused before they rend their flesh. Near the entrance to the lower level, Fehriel and Crunchy were swarmed by a small contingent of Umber Hulks. Seeing that a few of more were slowly moving towards Fehriel and Crunchy, they would be outflanked. Without hesitation, I acted immediately and flung two fireballs towards the direction of the flanking Umber Hulks. It incinerated them at once, but at the same time I placed Fehriel in peril for he was hit by the blast as well; luckily, Mirren was able to heal Fehriel’s bleeding wounds. We didn’t bother to go to the lower levels for fear of more powerful swarms.
The cavern had an eerie feel to it; I presumed it leads to the Deep because of the Umber Hulk activity. If that’s the case, then I am no longer safe anywhere, for my kin are only a few caves away. Suspicious to the law enforcers, and hunted by my kin, I am in more danger than I expected, as well as a danger to others. My power grows, and Fehriel’s wounds as well as a mass of dead Umber Hulks are a testament to such power.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Seven[/INDENT]
[INDENT]After filling my quota of skeleton knuckles, I made my way towards Hlint to search for companions that I may offer my services to. Along the way, I saw a large group of people congregating near the farms in Port Hempstead. I saw some familiar faces like Fleur, Fehriel, Grovel, Maran, and Tabris. The only person that I was not acquainted with called herself “Goggles”; I presumed she wanted to keep a certain amount of anonymity and I left it at that. To my discontent, the Toranite cleric named Brandon was there also.
While conversing, a farmer named Pratt appeared from the southern part of the fields, seeing that he might require assistance, “Goggles” immediately called out to the farmer. Farmer Pratt was on his way to Port Hempstead to contact a healer to tend to his ailing chickens. In addition to this, his cows were disappearing, and it has led him to presume that Orcs have been stealing them. He requested our aid in watching over his livestock as well as find out the cause of the lingering disease.
We arrived at the farm and the only thing that we found suspicious at the time was the movements of the horses which indicated fright. We searched the whole area and eventually found the sick chickens, as well as a few odd statues. The druids immediately went to work and investigated the livestock, “Goggles,” Tabris, and I set up a perimeter around the fence to guard the horses. Two groups were formed; one was to investigate the two statues while the other was to examine the chickens and horses.
Taking into consideration that there are well capable people within the vicinity, the possibility of an attack on the livestock would be minimal, so we decided to go about and observe the others. I observed the Toranite cleric, Fleur, and Fehriel study the statue of a child; my conclusion was that the people were petrified by magic, and that a malevolent wielder of the Al’Noth was the culprit. As Fleur and I were observing the statue and feeling it for any magical signatures left behind, Fehriel and Brandon were going at each other like children. I found it convenient and enjoying at the time, and I sought to use the moment to gain another ally against the Toranite should he go to drastic lengths.
On my way towards the other group, I summoned Faer and ordered him to stand guard on the fence, that way I am made aware of any suspicious activity. I observed the Grovel and Maran as they went from animal to animal, often examining feces and cultivation, like the red mushrooms. Apparently, the mushrooms were of intrigue to them, and they collected many samples. Going back to the chickens, they concluded that it was indeed the mushrooms that were causing such illness. Afterwards, I made my way towards the other group to check for any progress, and to my shock, the statue of the child was shattered to pieces. The Toranite cleric attempted to restore the statue back to life with a Restoration spell, and instead of the desired result, the statue crumbled. I was in awe of such a tragedy, but still, I could not help but blame the Toranite; this gave me an advantage, and finally I had leverage on the situation. I watched as Fehriel, “Goggles,” and Brandon argue about the child’s death or rather, the statue’s demise.
Eventually, the other group arrived in hopes of lending a hand with the petrified people. I left them and went to check on my familiar, and as I called him, I noticed that the fences no longer contained any animals. Rather, from the haze, emerged monstrous creatures. I fled, and ran to my companions, beckoning them to stop their blabber and focus their attention to the creatures. Maran walked too close, and the creatures spewed forth a noxious gas that turned him to stone; the creatures were Gorgons. Luckily, their breath only petrifies the victim for a short duration, and eventually, my companions felled them. We celebrated all too soon when we saw more monstrous creatures, this time, in the form of Giant flaming horses and rabid chickens– Nightmares and Cockatrices they were called. The behemoths wreaked havoc to the fences and chased us all around the farm, injuring most of us. Seeing that my spells deal no substantial damage to the creatures, I ran around casting Invisibility spells on those that were being chased after, giving them enough time to regain their strength. After much effort, the two creatures were dispatched.
We entered the fence and saw another Nightmare at a distance, apparently we missed one. This time, they made short work of the vile creature by rendering it immobile and knocking it down on its legs. Grovel concluded that it was indeed the mushrooms that warped the once docile creatures into monstrosities, and that we should proceed to burn any mushroom we see. For once, my fireballs were or more use, and we proceeded to set ablaze every mushroom we saw. The mushrooms were incinerated but they set off a poisonous fume that afflicted a few of my comrades. We camped near the farm for a while to tend to our wounds and afflicted companions.
Earlier while investigating the surrounding area, “Goggles” mentioned something about a cave, and that we should investigate the insides. Grovel insisted that we should, for there might be more mushrooms inside. Preparing ourselves for whatever it is that may be inside, we entered the cave. The entrance to the cave was very narrow and had two halls opposite the entrance. Once we entered, Orcs swarmed and outflanked us from both sides; we were stuck and forced to fight at such a congested playing field. I killed as many potential threats as I can with my Magic Missiles; I was hoping that we would be able to finish off our attackers so I could fling a few fireballs on the remaining shamans. Everyone was in a tight spot, and Grovel did a tremendous job of unleashing his magic. Our efforts proved useless when eventually most of my companions fell to the ground and that only Fleur and I were left. Out of spells and outnumbered, we managed to escape merely because of our Invisibility spells.
While applying bandages, we organized our battle plan – while under the Invisibility spell, we were to save as much as we can by mending their wounds and casting Invisibility on them. All stitched up and ready to go, we descended into the cave, and witnessed an eerie montage of death. We attempted to heal as much as we can, but our efforts were in vain for we were not healers. Instead, we resorted to drag the bodies outside and call for a healer to raise them. One by one, we dragged the bodies and piled them, and luckily, the farmer arrived with a healer. We urged him to raise our fallen companions regardless of the fact that he was an animal cleric in servitude to Prunilla. He managed to raise them with the help of his deity, and one by one they all rose on their feet.
After everyone was pulled back from the void, there was much talk, and as it turns out, the two statues were already petrified before we even arrived. Frankly, I was displeased at this unfortunate information; but still, I will find a loophole within the system, there always is. If the farmer had not said it, I would still have leverage over the Toranite. It wasn’t a total loss though, now I know that there are more potential allies to be found; I’ve already found one, and he proved to be quite useful.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Eight[/INDENT]
[INDENT]While walking along the outskirts of Hlint I stumbled upon a person by the name of Gats, he seemed friendly and looked like an unaligned fighter. I accompanied him to the local Goblin cavern; unfortunately there were only two of us so we didn’t go that far. Looking for more sights of interest, we went to Alindor to begin our search. Before reaching Alindor we stumbled upon Fehriel who was in need of help; apparently he was doing the same tasks that I also had, so we immediately obliged. Upon reaching Alindor, we also met more familiar faces; Fehriel went ahead, while I stayed behind and asked help from Fleur and Maran. Maran was an exceptional druid, and he dealt with the scarecrows as well as the griffin with finesse, sad to say, I was a bit debased to see him do all the work, but still, I was amused.
Tired and disgruntled, I made my way back to the derelict port I came from, and to my dismay, I forgot that I did not bring any money. Without access to a bank, I was forced to sell some of my reagents for boarding tickets; it doesn’t matter really since most of my reagents were quite easy to get. Arriving in Fort Vehl, I replenished my quota of skeleton knuckles and then made my way to Hlint. Along the way, I met up with Fehriel and Melana; together we decided to take a stroll inside the Red Light Goblin cavern. As we reached the Goblin wasteland we stopped to rest and wait for our other companion to arrive. While sitting near the campfire, Melana disclosed with us her past; such a tragic past, it interests me so to see how so much can happen to a Human, seeing as their lives only last for so long.
Once Melana was finished with her tale, I harangued Fehriel to share his, luckily our companion, Mirren came just in time. She was quite tired herself so we obliged her to rest for a while with us. As always, she was expecting company as well, so we conversed while waiting for our other companion. After much idle talk, our awaited companion finally arrived. His name was Elinmire and was a powerful wizard like Mirren. Well rested and complete, we raided the Goblin caverns with haste. Elinmire and I cast our protective spells on Melana and Fehriel, turning them into efficient killers. Elinmire commended my sorcery and I was greatly amused, he was the first wielder of the Al’Noth to have complimented me in such a way; it seemed that someone noticed my progress; I was very much pleased with myself.
After raiding the caverns, we returned to camp while Elinmire departed to scribe some scrolls. On our way to the camp, we saw X and invited him along. Taking a break from the daily hassles of combat, we took a break and conversed with one another; frankly I quite like idle conversations, although it’s not really helpful to me, it’s very relieving to talk to surface dwellers and listen to their peculiar conversations. Soon, trouble arose, and a man named Brian came and caused quite a stir. I presumed he was Mirren’s mate for he gave her a bouquet of roses; threatened and upstaged, I felt that X saw the man with spite. Rude words eventually led to hostilities and Brian taunted X into dueling with him. I feared for X, and seeing Brian wield his weapons, I feared for the worse.
Eventually, the mindless rabble ceased and the two brutes grew to be tolerant of each other; I wish I could say so for myself and some surface dwellers. On our way towards another adventure, we met “goggles” near the road to Fort Llast; to my shock, Melana called her Tyra, and I presumed that was her real name. She didn’t seem too friendly, and as I was trying to say something insightful, she immediately saw my face beneath the hood; such remarkable eyesight, I’ll give her that. Since she unveiled who I really was, I proceeded to remove my hood, and to my surprise, my companions didn’t bother. At that moment, my faith in surface dwellers grew as well as my abhorrence for some. She loathed me with a passion, and as if I was going to murder her, she grasped her sword at the ready. Melana and Brian defended me adamantly and eventually led to senseless talk. Yet again, my enemies grow in number, this one is no exception, if they get in the way I shall silence them.[/INDENT][/SIZE][/FONT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Nine[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I made my first expensive purchase today, and to be honest, I’m quite pleased with my new robe. The merchant bedazzled me with more items of interest and I was deeply entranced. As I saw each item of value, I was motivated to make more money seeing that I no longer had any. I met up with Grovel and he showed me around the spots where I could collect reagents, as well as a few druid groves and temples of interest. I had wonderful time with the little whelp, and after exploring we even proceeded to raid the Red Light Goblin caverns again. We didn’t go too far since we would be severely outnumbered, instead, we decided to go back to camp to meet up with Grovel’s brother, Nonac. Together we ventured into the cavern again. Upon reaching the second level, we were swarmed by a considerable number of Goblins that even they could not handle.
I bled to death, and a part of me was taken by the Soul Mother, with that, I felt enraged and lonesome, as if such loneliness enveloped me. I mourned my loss and felt something within me change, like a fire that was slightly extinguished. Like a missing limb, I was incomplete; I never expected it to be this demeaning. I was way over my head, and I never expected this to happen, considering the fact that I have yet to travel the world and hone my skills. I composed myself, and while still feeling a bit fragmentary, I proceeded to continue my gathering of reagents. Soon, I shall be stronger, and by then I shall have forgotten the Soul Mother and her icy grasp. Eventually, I composed myself and rose to my feet; feeling renewed, I set off to gather more reagents and companions.
I met Fehriel in Fort Wayfare, as well as a few eager adventurers – Maran, Fehriel, Leisa, and Droog, the pie meister. Apparently, someone was causing quite a stir; a guardian of Rofirein came into town looking to enlist the aid of a few willing individuals who might be able to escort him to a town named Folly. He didn’t really care much for abilities but rather the background of the person sufficed, and with that he asked for proof that one has accomplished certain deeds for the kingdom. He questioned everyone relentlessly, and when he came to question me, I knew he would require me to remove my hood. I willingly obliged for I didn’t really care, seeing as there weren’t any Toranites within the vicinity. He judged me by my actions and enlisted me, although this fat pie maker detested and demanded that if I were to talk to him, I would have to write it down in triplicate; quite amusing at first, eventually he learned to keep his tongue behind his teeth. There was also this Halfling who seemed to fear me; frankly, I didn’t mind them that much, and I was focused more on the task required of me.
We boarded a boat to Folly, and once there, the guardian went to work. Starting the trial, the townsfolk claimed that a commoner’s son was sent to the caves to touch a shrine dedicated to Beryl, and that the child’s father wagered against another commoner. Knowing that the cave housed monstrous creatures, we were tasked to locate the child, dead or alive, and regardless whether or not the child touched the shrine. Well rested and prepared, we descended into the cave carefully. We entered cavern after cavern, fighting monstrosity after monstrosity, and eventually we stumbled upon the child’s body. The child was killed by an Umber hulk, and to our surprise, his belongings weren’t with his corpse. Spotting a hole on the ground, we descended deeper into the cave so as to find out how the child died. Finding his belongings in a corner, we noticed another corridor and decided to check it out to see where it led. The corridor led to another hall, this time with a small narrow passage that seemed to seep into another section of the cavern. Senseless talk ensued, and whether or not we should go into the passage was debated. We were not tasked with exploring the cavern, and I didn’t risk it. Rather, Maran, Droog, and Leisa ventured off, while Fehriel and I stayed behind. Waiting for them to come back, only Leisa returned, she left the two seeing as they were blinded by temptation. We made our way back to the surface, and to our surprise, Maran came back panting, unfortunately, our fat friend didn’t come back with him. As Maran claims, Droog entered a mirror portal of some sort and was sucked right in; such a pity really, perhaps that will teach him to think before he acts. [/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Ten[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I finally managed to complete my quota of Aloe and silk, perhaps now I can sell them to free my load. I made my own route so that things would be efficient; I would start off at Silkwood and gather Silk, afterwards, I would end up in Hlint and then make my way to the Treant groves for some Aloe. It’s a tiring and somewhat dangerous procedure but someone has to do it, and hopefully someone will buy my reagents. Along the way, I stumbled upon X, and he showed me a few more places where I can gather more reagents like the spider cave near the Gnoll tower as well as the kobold camp near Port Hempstead.
This time we did something different, instead of going to the usual Goblin caverns, we explored a bit and went to Silverdell grove, and afterwards, we raided a Gnoll settlement near Haven. Strategically speaking, we were effective, and my targeting has somewhat improved; I was practicing my Fireball targeting as well as experimenting with the Endure Elements spell. As long as I keep my companions warded, I can unleash one Fireball spell on them before the ward collapses. Soon I shall get access to more powerful spells; for now I shall bide my time and invest it in spells that conjure creatures, in the future, I shall balance my sorcery and shift towards far more lethal spells.
Triumphant, we went to Blackford castle because Melana wanted to show me something in there. The castle was like a labyrinth of hallways and rooms, eventually we arrived in a library, and in it, was a portal. We entered the portal, and to my amazement, we were in the Great Library in Voltrex; never have I thought that I would be able to visit the library, more so for being able to stand on Voltrex. At first I was hesitant and feared that someone might see me and kill me on sight, but then I realized I had Melana and X with me. The library was vast, countless eons of information stored in it, and it would take two lifetimes for someone to be able to read everything in it, Human lifetimes perhaps, as for myself, I shall take my time. Countless books on everything, even some for Dark Elves, I find it funny that some people from the surface world claim to know so much about my kind. [/INDENT][/SIZE][/FONT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Eleven[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I was very pleased with myself for I managed to purchase a substantial amount of magical items, and Ferrit was gracious enough to offer me a discount on multiple purchases. Such a delightful day, and with the magical items, my magic is amplified providing me with more spell usage. Along the way, I met up with Fehriel and Mirren, they were headed to the Umber Hulk caverns again and I decided to come along. They engaged a Xorn once we entered the cavern, and it shook the ground with its tremendous powers, I was mauled unconscious by a boulder; apparently my new magical items were insufficient to save me. I died, and I was sent back to Fort Vehl, but this time, I evaded the Soul Mother’s embrace. Pondering on my death, I saw Fehriel along the way, apparently, he was killed by the celestial Mirren conjured. Apparently the celestial fell to the madness of the Umber Hulks and killed Fehriel in confusion. I never thought that a celestial could fall prey to such a thing, only made me doubt the power of the heavens even more. Putting aside the celestial mishap, I focused more on the Xorn and how it killed me. Such tremendous power it unleashed on the earth, if a person was to harness that power and unleash it, one could level cities and shape mountains.
Taking my leave, I went to Fort Vehl, hoping to catch a glance of the accused Dark Elf, and as I reached the town center, guards of Rofirein formed in front of the jail. To my dismay, I never got a chance to take a glance at the fool, and instead, I stumbled upon Annie, and her two associates – a Lucindite, and an orc, a fascinating pair. I joined them into the Gloom Woods for I have not yet been there, and to my amazement, it was sprawling with undead as well as mutant Humanoids; all of which I presumed were the machinations of a darkweaver. As we plowed through corpse after corpse, we were accompanied by a bard that went by the name of War Singer, like me, he veils his face so. Completing the task, we stayed for a while at the mercenary camp, wherein War Singer and I shared a few stories. He was very timid, and in one occasion lied about his upbringing; I presume he’s a Goblin by the way he speaks, no Halfling would speak in such a way. He even cringed when I hinted at the sight of a Dark Elf mercenary within our midst.
Going back to Fort Vehl, Annie and her two companions bade farewell to us. As we arrived, we were welcomed by a familiar sight; the whole wargpack was there, along with Melana, Fehriel, Rose, Marius, and a Halfling that I wasn’t acquainted with. The Halfling seemed to be a rather agile fellow, and at the hint of caves, the Deep, and Dark Elves, she showed quite distaste, how quaint. We made our way back into the Gloom Woods and raided a few corpses, and when we came back to Fort Vehl, I saw the creature which called herself “Goggles”. This time I composed myself and remained civil; she didn’t speak that much, wise choice actually, lest the wargpack unleash their fury on her.
We took a boat to the Dragon Islands to visit the caves and raid a few Minotaurs. I have never been to the islands, nor have I heard of tales about it, and as soon as we thought of a battle plan, we were faced with such monstrous creatures – a forest full of mutant Humanoids, forest renders, and hostile Myconids. Reaching the cave, we plowed through wave after wave of Minotaurs, and our strategy seemed flawless. Although, on the way back, we were outflanked by a few Minotaurs and sadly, Grovel was wounded beyond healing.
Slowly I gain more allies who will protect me for now, and soon I shall gain more. For now, I shall lie low as I continue to hone my abilities and live with limits. That Dark Elf was a fool, and apparently lacked the intelligence to make use of the lessons taught to him. Such a pity, I could have used him as another servitor.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twelve
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[INDENT]For months now I’ve been wandering the surface world in hopes of honing my skill, and slowly I’m becoming impatient with all the unnecessary work. On the surface world, power is gained through hard work, and not by one’s cunning. I feel myself slowly becoming one of them in their ideals, and frankly I don’t like it. I realized that no one on the surface world is striving to compete against me, because there is nothing to compete for. I left my city because I wanted something more for myself, selfish indeed, but the idea of a vicious cycle claiming me did not amuse me very well. I realized then and there that I was better than my kin. They wasted their ideals and talents blinded by faith and on simple desires; houses wage war against one another, and even then, individuals from every house seek to usurp more power. I am on a far greater horizon now, and through cunning and ruthlessness will I gain power and be able to fend for myself; no longer will I hide behind my allies, no more hiding from the law, and I shall be able to silence those who harass me, if the need arises.
Speaking of the law, I have heard rumors that the Dark Elf was tried guilty. Years of servitude under the Toranites, so I’ve heard, I’m not quite sure. Such torture for the poor thing, I would rather die than be subject to such punishment. They think they’re so pure but they merely bask in the grandeur of their false god, such blind zeal will be their demise; I shall enjoy toying with them in the decades to come.
Putting aside idle chat, I managed to finish my quota by the end of the week; so far I have four boxes total – two boxes of Aloe and two boxes of Silk. I’m still thinking of what to purchase though, perhaps a new hood, a new cloak, and a belt; all imbued with magic of course. Once I am satisfied with what I have, I shall focus more on alchemy to try and make my own potions, that way the temples won’t benefit from my wounds.
Pleased with myself, I went on a stroll to Fort Vehl to purchase a few guides on crafting, and along the way I met a man who seemed to be like every other Human. Taking a break from my journey, I took a seat near the campfire in the Stormcrest Crossroads with the man and conversed with him. His name was Idoran, he seemed to be a man of faith, and to my relief, he worshipped Deliar, so he wasn’t that big of a threat. His arm was limp, as if the muscles were torn apart, and as his story deepened, it explained why. Together with a group of individuals, his group raided the Deep in search of a shadow dragon. They sought to ask the dragon some questions that would help benefit the current state of the world. Apparently the dragon has marked them in some sort of way, and that they were no longer safe. Such a dreadful thing happened to these individuals, and it intrigues me more. Taking my leave I set off for Fort Vehl to buy my crafting supplies.
On the way back from Fort Vehl, I rested my feet and sat down with Idoran and Fehriel. Conversing with them, I learned more about Fehriel and his horrifying dreams. Shedding some insight to his situation, I realized a few things about myself as well, things that bothered me very much. A few days ago, X and I met a woman that refused to give us her name, she was very mysterious and even spoke Elven. She said that I had lost my touch, it disturbed me for a while, and I just realized what she meant by that statement; it daunts me so, perhaps she was right, if so, then I refuse to lose myself. [/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirteen[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I dispatched a small group of Bugbears while on my usual experimental runs, and I’m getting better at my strategies. After my practice runs, I stumbled upon Ferrit and delivered my last stock of Aloe and Silk in exchange for a few supplies that I may be able to use. While negotiating, we were rudely interrupted by “goggles,” and she divulged that I was a Dark Elf. At first, I was enraged and wanted to confront the interloper, but to my surprise, Ferrit didn’t seem to mind. I was relieved and luckily no one else was there to hear the tramp. I must maintain my composure, if I give in to her taunts then I will have damned myself; soon my powers will grow, and if she crosses me, I shall have a little game to play.
This week has been full of death for me, as if I never left the Deep, and the only difference were the circumstances. X and I went on a raid to test a few tactics, and they all proved flawless. With my one fireball, I wiped out a whole Kobold clan, while X finished off the stragglers that I missed; we were lethal but still we retained our flaws. X and I parted ways, and I met an enigmatic dwarf in Fort Vehl, he went by the name of Gladyus, he even accompanied me in gathering a few skeleton knuckles. Once I collected the amount I needed, we set off for the Black Dogs Moors for my reward and along the way he only demanded that he get a share of the loot. He was not that talkative, mostly speaking with single words to deliver one complete thought. Once we reached Hlint, I met his master, Kahzrag, and he seemed to be like some of my ominous associates, Lord Domino and Count Czukay. I noticed that they wore veils on their faces and often cringed at the sight of sunlight, just like me, and most of all, they worshipped Sulterio, which only meant that they were Deep Dwarves. I was a bit alarmed as well as relieved to see another somewhat sentient being that came from the Deep. Together with my new Deep Dwarven associates, we met up with Rak Ramhorn and sailed to Alindor to slay the Bugbear chieftain. I was a bit embarrassed because I could only offer a few spells to my companions since most of my spells were offensive spells. Gladyus even called me weak, I took offense to that, and that dwarf better watch his words or else he won’t live to speak again. We had a very effective strategy and slowly we felled Bugbear after Bugbear, that is, until we reached the chieftain. I just stayed behind them, remained invisible, looted the dead, healed them, and cast protective spells on them. Eventually, Rak was overwhelmed and was slain, and so did Kahzrag right after he killed the chieftain, Gladyus was being chased by a Bugbear right when Kahzrag was killed. I took the chieftain’s severed head that way our trip would not be in vain, and I ran to the stairs to look for Gladyus. I found his bleeding body on the floor and I mended his wounds, but shortly after, he ran immediately before I could even cast an Invisibility spell on him. Unfortunately, the Bugbear saw him and was struck down, and this time the wound proved fatal. With nothing else to do I ran back to Mariner’s Hold and boarded the next boat to Fort Vehl. It amuses me how they were all slain when they were executing such a well thought plan. Although their deaths were not a total waste, they served their purpose and in the end, we were triumphant in accomplishing our task; they just merely spilled their own blood to do so.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Fourteen[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Leaving my room, I noticed a pile of books near the bar at the Caring Hope Inn. I was intrigued and in my search for a book that fancies me, instead I found a note that had writing on it which seemed familiar. The note baffled me, and it had a few details regarding our trip to the backwater town of Folly. I immediately sought companions that may accompany me to the location as stated in the note. Eventually the group didn’t find any clues so as to unravel the mysteries that surrounded that town, so we all decided to just wait until more information surfaces.
I stayed behind to help Azaionna, Marec, and Kenelm in their suicidal attempt to persuade the goblins near Hlint. It amuses me how Azaionna still tried to reason with the goblin even when it’s already trying to stab her; such foolish dedication. Goblin after goblin, she was only met with hostility. Luckily, Gladyus was inside the caverns, mining some Greenstone I suppose, and he decided to lend us a hand. The deeper we went inside, the more goblins we faced, and eventually we were overwhelmed. While luring a few goblins in to ambush, someone rushed in and they were all swarmed. Luckily, Gladyus and I managed to escape the carnage. It amuses me how the female is so vigilant in her attempts for diplomacy, foolish, but still, it’s fascinating to see how far she’s willing to go, maybe even to the death.
Meeting with X and our new companion, Mandalorian, I felt a surge of magic within me, as if my blood was curdling. Trudging onwards, I felt as if the magic within me was becoming erratic, with it I continued casting spells on my companions and watched from the horizon as they wreaked death. Eventually, I realized that I have felt this feeling before, and that I’ve always dealt with it by meditating and playing with the Al’Noth. Leaving a trail of death, we felled Bugbears, Umber Hulks, and mercenaries all across Mistone. I could not take it anymore, and we all decided to part ways. On top of a hill in Haven, far from the sight of commoners, I meditated and honed my magic. My magic grew as if the collective emotions I’ve kept triggered something and amplified my magic just like before, and with that I was able to cast a new spell. Pleased with myself, I tested my new arsenal of spells, for now I will exercise restraint and use more protective spells to help my companions, that way they won’t die as fast. [/INDENT] [/SIZE][/FONT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Fifteen[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I sailed off to Leringard and amused myself with the local card game called Demon Cards, wherein I find an escape from the world within the confines of the game. When immersed in the game, one is able to command a wide assortment of creatures with one goal at hand – destroying the enemy. I found myself omnipotent and commanding a multitude of creatures left me with some sense of security. I dared not to lose myself to the game, and in convenience, Gladyus wanted to take me to Hurm. I’ve only heard of tales about the port city, and I’ve taken a liking to the tales about the Sea Elf sightings.
We made our way through the outskirts and eventually we came across a massive desert as vast as the labyrinths of the Deep. We raided the outlying caves within the desert, slaying the local Giant populace; it was quite amusing, seeing as how one by one they fell to creatures half their size. We made quite a pair, and with enough enchantments, I turned Gladyus into a machine of death. He would strike the Giants’ tender points and make them bow on their knees, while he finishes them off, and on occasion, I would fling a few fireballs on the ones that would swarm. The dwarf spoke more to me on that trip, and maybe if I gain his trust he can be a formidable ally; he even gave me a name, I’ve forgotten how he called it in Dwarven, but it was “Dragon” in the common tongue. A very amusing and flattering name, and henceforth I was “Dragon”, a living weapon capable of unleashing death.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Sixteen[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Earning enough money, I went inside the Toranite temple against my best wishes to purchase a few bandages. To my amusement, the convicted Dark Elf was there. How I pitied him, caged and forced into servitude; fallen he has to be like the slaves we had in the Deep. He did not speak much, but rather he maintained his pacified state due to the presence of the clerics. He amuses me, such strength and willingness to endure, he is a potential ally, and I’ll need as much as I can. My presence there was short-lived, and I did not expect to meet him, regardless of the risk, I attempted to talk to him. I tried to give him the impression that I was a liaison of some group, but his pride and boorishness denied me. His defiance will be his doom, seeing as to how it got him into this predicament. I expected much from him and his many talents, but I was disappointed, within all that strength and wit, he wastes it so by being so foolish. I must take precaution, he can be a great threat, and if he does I shall be prepared. He is a weapon, and I hope to unleash him, provided that he still maintains his sanity by the time his sentence is over.
I made my way to Hlint, and as I expected, Gladyus was there raiding the caverns yet again and as always we were off to some faraway place. We sailed to Mariner’s Hold and met up with Kahzrag. We were supposed to turn in the head of the Bugbear chieftain, but unfortunately, Rak didn’t show up. Instead, we made our way to Hurm and paid a visit to the Giants that took refuge within the desert caves. Gladyus and I were already a handful for the Giants, but with Kahzrag, we laid waste to them faster. I’m quite pleased because people are starting to acknowledge my capabilities, and hopefully I won’t have to rely on these brutes in the future.
We parted ways, and I went to Spellgard to use the portal to North Point. I have heard of rumors about a sea creature wreaking havoc within the local townsfolk so I decided to lend my abilities, and maybe even witness the creature at its prime. I witnessed a very intimidating sight, and a very large group of adventurers were gathered near the campfire to investigate as well. I was way out of my league and while conversing, the adventurers were talking about Dark Elves and how they despised them so. I remained quiet and kept any insight to myself, and only when in trouble did I speak. We boarded a boat and sailed off to the town of question and we were welcomed by the commoners with much expectation. My companions were powerful but were quite witty and arrogant, their chaos secured my safety. Nonetheless, I commend them for their skill seeing as how they annihilated an army of Goblins with their swordplay and incredible magic. After much bickering and tracking, we found the creature hidden deep within a cave. The druids demanded that it was to be left alone; a wise course of action indeed, I would not dare face such a thing. We left the cave and hurried to think of a plan for the Grey Caps were upon us, and if they do, hostilities are bound to ensue. A cunning ruse was developed, one that instilled fear and deceit in the enemy; the mage whom they called Savin was to change into the shape of a Dragon and we were to flee in terror. The plan worked flawlessly and the Grey Caps fled in terror, leaving the creature unscathed. I was hoping to gain a few more associates, but I was disappointed for the majority were pompous and drudging. Regardless, I was satisfied by the sight of such a creature, hopefully I would see more of it in the future, and perhaps even domesticated into servitors.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Seventeen[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Fehriel and I had a short conversation, and I divulged how I was feeling; thoughts of fear and uncertainty troubled me so. Perhaps that trip to the Toranite temple was not wise, as well as meeting that boon. Somehow I feel that he is conspiring against me, no matter, I shall leave him be and if ever his taskmasters detain me, I shall use the law against them. If they want to harangue me, I shall give them reason to. It’s quite amusing knowing that you can use their own ideals against them, for now I shall let the Dark Elf rot in his prison, and once he is released I shall deal with his defiance myself; I want his head, and I shall play with him for the time being. Aside from my machinations, it amused me how Fehriel maintained his civility, it’s as if he’s no longer tainted by the blood of Demons. This could probably be of an advantage for me, lest he try something against me.
Aside from all this chaos, I feel more powerful now, and soon I can master more spells; I can feel the Al’Noth twinge with my very emotions. Maybe it’s because of that Dark Elf, he aggravates me so, and even though it helps, he fuels my rage. Dwelling on this matter, Gladyus and I cleaned the Giant caves in the deserts near Dalanthar. Wave after wave of Giants, they all slowly fell to my fireballs and Gladyus’ fists; it’s quite impressive that we’re able to kill most of the Giants. Will the Toranites be as easy to fell as these blundering behemoths? I must delve on this further and bide my time.[/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Eighteen[/INDENT]
[INDENT]While on my way to Leringard, I passed by Fort Llast as always, making my way, I noticed a memorandum posted outside the temple of Toran. Curious as to what it said, I took a glance at it and read it with haste. I was struck by a flurry of emotions and I immediately departed from the vile temple and made my way into Leringard. Boarding the ship to Hurm, I could not help but contemplate on these emotions that swirled within me like an unending vortex. I was happy, amused, and somewhat disappointed, knowing that Sion is being petitioned for execution and that I wasn’t even able to toy with him. I offered him safe haven and he spat on me, such a pitiful creature to be executed. I wonder though how they might end his life entirely since he is bound to the stones.
As much as I don’t care about the commoners, I loathed them even more after reading the note. I am being aggravated by these nuisances, and they keep making things harder for me. They referred to Sion as well as my kind as animals, and yet they’re not that different from my kind; rather they prey on Sion because they outnumber him. Instead of harassing the defenseless creature, why don’t they venture into The Deep and wage a war against all the Dark Elf houses? If they can fight as much as they prey on the pitiful creature, why don’t they mount a counterattack instead of unleashing all their hate on their little scapegoat? Obviously they can’t, for they have such minimal numbers and frail bodies, they have no other talents aside from their mediocre crafts. Now I have to think of more ways of subterfuge to make my way through the continents; these commoners are such a nuisance, just like the Toranites. If I am identified, I shall give them a more elaborate reason to fear my kind, and I shall treat them like the animals they are.[/INDENT] [/SIZE][/FONT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Nineteen[/INDENT]
[INDENT]That woman amuses me, and she shows such hostility towards me; although, unlike the others, she is steadfast and focused, quite hard to play with so I’ll avoid her for now. She was with another companion, almost knifed me though, and I only wanted to play; I say hello and they both wield their weapons, uncivilized brutes. She is of no concern for now, although she is an imminent threat, she poses only as a minor annoyance, and besides, she cannot touch me so long as I stick to what Fehriel said.
Leaving the two brutes, I stumbled upon Fehriel and his new companion in the Kobold camp near Port Hempstead. Upon leaving the camp, we saw a majestic sight, a person wielding a Trident and had the features of an Elf, and to our amazement, we had a Sea Elf in our midst. His name was Tiall’alu, a cleric of Shindaleria. He didn’t speak common that well so we resorted to speak in Elvish. We proceeded to show him around, and unfortunately, Fehriel’s other companion disappeared. While conversing, we tried to learn more about him and why he left the sea, to my shock, he knew what I was and where I came from. I questioned him and he claimed that someone told him about me; who his informant was, I never found out. He was really calm regarding the matter while I was in an outrage. He interests me so, and with proper training, he could be a fine investment.
I sought a reprieve from the world through the card emporium in Leringard; I’ve become fond of Demon Cards lately, and playing it only enriches my knowledge over strategies and tactics. But still, firsthand experience always outweighs that which you could learn from a game. I was not alone when I entered the card emporium; there were two males inside, one wore an ominous mask dressed in black and red, while the other was dressed in garbs of yellow and white, probably a servant of Rofirein, but I may be mistaken. He challenged me to a game and after three games, I was victorious, the Rofireinite was a formidable opponent, almost having the same cards that I had.
Eventually I grew tired of playing games, and I boarded the next boat to Fort Vehl to resupply in the arena. Someone was training with the combat dummies and I just minded my own business; the man looked familiar, and it was Idoran. I sought to see his potential seeing as how he was supposed to meet someone for training purposes, I decided to stay a while and observe. Idoran and I sparred while waiting for his companion; it’s always unfair if a mage is to duel a fighter, unfair for the fighter that is, seeing as how a mage can summon a substantial amount of creatures and amplify their lethality significantly. I managed to defeat Idoran three times in a row before his companion arrived. It was the man who wore the ominous mask in the card emporium, they immediately began their lessons, and he was very skilled in swordplay as well as wielding the Al’Noth. I didn’t learn much but I had an enjoyable time, Idoran’s companion interested me, somehow he exudes an aura of power and respect.
Parting ways, I embarked on my trek to Fort Wayfare to heed the call of Folly once more. Farmer Syton was in need of our special skills again, and this time he’s offering a cow as a reward, as much as the reward is beyond comprehension, I answered his call out of curiosity. I was already acquainted with most of the people that came along; namely, Gladyus, Leisa, Maran, and Yvale. All except for a Halfling who arrived late and he insisted that he be called Dogboy so I eagerly indulged him. At the break of dawn we made our journey towards Folly, and upon arriving we met with Farmer Syton, who was at the height of his success. He wanted us to retrieve the mirror that trapped our fat companion so that he may prove to the townsfolk that his son has found something that may be significant to the town, and in exchange, we get a cow. Not wasting any more time, we made our way to the caverns and then to the mirror. Most of the time was spent into examining the mirror without touching it as well as bickering amongst ourselves. The mirror was missing a few devices that were to be placed on the sides for it to function. I offered my cloak so that it can be used to cover the mirror, that way our gaze won’t lead us astray, but unfortunately, the cloak was sucked in as it touched the surface. Leaving the mirror alone, we set off to scour the cavern for the missing devices, and after hours of searching, our efforts yielded nothing. Going back to the mirror, Gladyus examined it, and found four details below the mirror, each depicting a god and required amulets of a certain size and age; the four gods were represented by a clover, a dagger, a compass, and a wolf’s head. The clover represented Deliar, the compass for Rofirein, the wolf’s head for Folian, and we presumed that the dagger represented Corath, but Leisa thought otherwise. Concluding that the amulets would be somewhere on the surface, we took the path that required passing through the shrine of Beryl, where we found the child’s body. Maran was throwing a fit and accused Gladyus of desecrating the shrine. He claimed that Gladyus poured some sort of poison on the shrine and that it would anger the gods. Leisa examined the statue and concluded that the liquid was benign and was coming out from the cracks of the shrine. Thinking that it would contain the devices, Gladyus and I wanted to break the shrine to see if our assumptions were correct. Instead of invoking Maran’s anger, Leisa examined it once more, and it was not hollow nor did it contain anything. Maran took our reactions quite seriously and was very disgruntled; frankly, he was very disgruntled the whole trip. Reaching the surface, we set off to look for these amulets, and yet again, our search was in vain. Instead, we set off to go back to Fort Wayfare until we can gain more knowledge regarding the town of question.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty[/INDENT]
[INDENT]He called me Daralith, and to my dismay he was not who I thought he was, but rather someone more, someone powerful. He was a sorcerer just like me and was capable of unleashing a vast array of spells – his name was Skabot, a squire of Count Czukay. Knowing that I was under the protection of Lord Domino and Count Czukay, he took me to his home in Prantz to bestow upon me a few magical items that would be of use. He outfitted me quite well and gave me a number of magical items that I could use, and even placed me under his tutelage. I was not afraid of him, and to my relief he did not care that I was a Dark Elf. We had the same view on things, and on how we use our sorcery; at first I was reluctant to believe that one is still required to empower one’s companions with spells as they progress. I wanted to be able to kill things on my own with my magic, unleash death from a far, take life without all the bloodshed, and to be able to fend for myself. I was wrong, but perhaps I shall live long enough to prove that I can be as powerful as I want myself to be. I was comfortable with him, and he reminded me much of Archmage Vesz back in Eilndar. We conversed about different things, but unfortunately he had to tend to some other matters so I left through one of his portals to Fort Wayfare. Hopefully, I will see him again, and by then I will be as powerful as he is, perhaps even more.
I took some time to scour Mistone for the clues I needed to understand the mystery of Folly, but to my dismay, I found nothing. Unaccomplished and tired, I decided to leave for Fort Vehl and maybe stop by the Stormcrest Crossroads to rest. As I reached the pub, there was a group congregating near the fireplace and I decided to see what was happening. I saw a few familiar faces, faces that I have not seen in a while – Brian, Ayana, Mirren, and a creature with the torso of a humanoid and the lower body of a lion. She was a Wemic, and her name was Raska, she could not speak common but she did understand a few words. Luckily, Ayana can speak the language of animals so she was able to communicate with her. Ayana interpreted for us, and claimed that Raska was brought to Fort Vehl by slavers, probably to be auctioned to some rich noble. We persuaded her to come with us to Fort Vehl, that way we can properly outfit her with armor and weaponry. Geared and prepared, we showed her to the crypts to see the extent of her abilities, and of course, I aided her with my magic, making her powerful and enchanting her weapon. She managed well against the skeletons, and if trained well, she’ll go far on the surface world, maybe even a new addition to our little army.
Leaving the tomb, we stumbled upon a cheetah, one that looked like Grovel and Maran’s transformations so I assumed it was a druid. His name was Elgon, and he was Ayana’s brother. He had to speak to Ayana about a pressing matter, but before he did, Ayana and I spoke about her little friend in the Toranite temple. I warned them to keep their friend on a leash, that way he’ll stop sending his slavers after me. If what Llane said was true, then this Lance person must be Sion’s taskmaster. If he knew what’s good for him, he’ll back off and leave me be, I already have enough enemies as it is. If they don’t silence Sion, then I shall deal with him once he is released from his sentence. Hopefully she’ll talk to the brute and knock some sense into him, maybe even some manners. I left them and bade farewell to Raska, giving her a few parting gifts, they were not much but perhaps she’ll be able to use them when the need is dire.[/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-one[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I have heard of rumors regarding pirates off the coast of Katherian, and not so long ago I have heard that pirates have struck again. I met up with Melana in Mariner’s Hold and we made our way to Katherian. Arriving at our destination, a large number of individuals were already present at the docks, and as soon as we all gathered, the mercenary captain immediately briefed us regarding the situation. A ship containing large amounts of grain was taken by pirates and we were tasked to recover the stolen ship and its cargo. As always, I was surrounded by chaos and incompetence, three Toranites came along, and they called themselves the Road Wardens; a bunch of mischievous fools they were. The only capable people that came along were Phyress, Maran, Melana, Snagnor, Tabris, and Mor. It was an interesting and amusing bunch, and most of them were quite capable in combat. Amidst this pool of chaos, we needed a leader; I voted for Phyress for she looked quite capable and skilled, the Toranites thought otherwise. But in the end, Phyress won the majority of the votes and led us on our dangerous hunt.
We sailed to an island near Corsain, and as we were about to see the horizon, we were attacked by creatures from the sea that were similar to the ones that made residence in the Battlehelm Moors. They ambushed us and overwhelmed us, and we managed to slay them all but two of our companions fell, Melana and one of the Toranites. Luckily there was a cleric aboard and managed to raise them from the dead. We made our way to shore, and planned to speak with the pirates to negotiate a few terms. Instead, we faced wave after wave of hostile pirates, until we managed to tie up a straggler. He was to be taken into custody but he demanded something to be fulfilled, a duel that adheres to their laws. We allowed him to fulfill it, but as soon as we removed his binds, he ran for help. We killed him along with the others who came to his aid; we were actually lucky to have released him for he led us to the stolen sacks of grain. As dangerous as it was, Phyress did a great job on leading us, and if only the Toranites would have cooperated more, it would have went smoothly. We came back triumphant and reaped the spoils of loot and true.
Weary from my journey, I sought a reprieve in the Stormcrest Crossroads when I noticed a figure that I have seen before, I thought it was Llane, but I was wrong. I have seen her before but I was never able to speak with her. Getting her attention, we crossed paths, and exchanged a few words. Eventually she introduced herself, her name was Alantha, and as the tales most of my other companions have told me, she was a Dark Elf of such grace and power, striking awe as well as fear into the hearts of these surface-dwellers. I thought she was benevolent so I revealed myself to her, and as I did, she did not show the emotions that I had expected. The sunlight grew dim and the shadows of the trees were cast upon our shadows, and creatures sprung forth from the darkness. They attacked us relentlessly, and Alantha accused me of summoning them. Coming to her senses, she believed that I was but a young sorcerer, unable to have conjured such foul creatures. We conversed, I shared my tale to her, and she shared hers. Her friend arrived while we were exchanging stories, her name was Alleina, and she was of Elven blood. Going back to our conversation, she spoke of something regarding a person who went by the name of Marcus, as well as a being that was called “Reason.” I did not know what I was thinking by unveiling myself; somehow I wanted to meet another like myself, someone who would not try to kill me and would at least offer me safety like the ones who have before. I thought that she would be able to help me, and I aspired to be like her, but unlike her, I won’t limit myself to mere greatness.
Leaving Stormcrest and settling in one of the rooms at the One Eyed Harpy, I rested myself for I planned to venture off further than I have ever before. I made my way to an unfamiliar city, and it was called West Gate, the capital of Corsain. To my surprise, Fehriel and Maran were there along with a few others, most likely stopping by from a long journey. I was intimidated by all the people and I realized that I placed myself at risk, but still, I could not help but meet other people. Emerging from the gate, a child along with her bodyguard approached us, both of which were not looking too happy. Her mother was ill with an unknown affliction, and subsequently, it manifested after she gave birth to her youngest child. They realized that it was no ordinary illness when they gazed upon their mother who had just murdered their pet canine, and so she stood before us asking for our help. Assuming that sinister forces were at work, their ordeal interested me greatly, and with it I might learn more about demonology. We gladly obliged the decrepit child, and decided that by daybreak, we were to visit their compound.
Most of the others entered the city, the others stayed at the docks and bickered; a Dwarf by the name of Argali was accusing the huge figure clad in black of murdering a servant of Rofirein, as well as his accomplice, a human who also wore black. Eventually they made their way into the city, and as soon as the guards were about to arrest the huge person, he vanished, and resulted in the guards placing the city on lockdown. They were relentless and looked for the accomplice; I was sitting quietly at the inn, when the guard asked me to remove my hood. Following Fehriel’s advice, I obliged, and unveiled myself, immediately, they wanted to escort me out of the city. Of course, I questioned them why, but that was foolish of me, when I already knew the answer. A few of the travelers scoffed at me, one even spat on the floor I was standing on, what an uncivilized brute. I was lucky that those people were followers of Rofirein, had they been Toranites, I would have been slain on sight.
Instead of boarding the next boat to Katherian, I decided to pay a visit to Prantz, and maybe locate my Deep Dwarven companions. Along the way, while I was passing by Audira, I saw the huge figure clad in black, and it had its swords at the ready, thinking I was sent to re-capture him. I was not one to judge and his situation did seem to be justifiable on his part, so I conversed with him. His name was G’ork, I have only seen him a number of times on Mistone, but I was never really able to have a conversation with him. G’ork claimed that he only killed the Rofireinite under self-defense, and that they were to be buried alive had they not acted sooner. I was sympathetic to him, always running from the law, never having a moment’s peace. He reminded me of the Goblins that protected me for he offered to silence those who would seek to kill me. I was pleased and afraid at the same time for on I made a new associate that would be of some use, regardless of the large amount of enemies I just gained. I doubt the servitors of the law will be able to capture G’ork, for he has managed to elude them up to now, what makes them think that they can in the future? I do hope I see earn his favor, most of my allies are dwindling, and I am making more enemies. [/INDENT][/SIZE][/FONT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-two[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I set off to hone my skills on top of the hill near Haven, and upon crossing the Stormcrest Crossroads I saw a familiar sight, one that I have not seen in a long time. It was X, and he has been gone for quite some time now; I didn’t bother asking him why he disappeared, but rather I was just pleased to see him again. We conversed much, and I informed him of how I was faring on the surface world. He was the first human to have shown me such camaraderie, perhaps it’s because we both think alike, and come to think of it, it didn’t even bother him that I was a Dark Elf. If ever I was to rise in power, he could be my majordomo, provided that his skill will be of use to me.
X taught me a few trade skills that I may be able to use that way I won’t have to spend as much money. He taught me that chickens yield eggs, and that eggs are a valuable commodity, they’re used for alchemy or so I’ve heard. Purchasing a few fishing rods as well as a few necessities, we set off to fish, regardless of my disdain for such a minuscule task. We were about to leave when a person caught my attention, he was clad in ominous robes and sported a simple staff; X went on without me while I stayed a while and conversed with the man.
He said he was interested in me, and that he wanted to learn more about me. He was the person whom Skabot mistook me for, and his full name was Daralith Del’Mar. Fresh off of the debacle in West Gate, I was still weary and fearful of everyone around me, especially Daralith whom I saw as someone who would not hesitate to kill me for satisfaction. He kept on asking me abrasive questions about myself as if I was being tried on court, and eventually he asked me what I was, what was underneath my hood. He seemed powerful and I willingly indulged him, taking him to the docks, behind the mausoleum, I showed him my face. He was not bothered at all but rather, he was amused, and he even spoke in the Dark Elven tongue! He was another Dark Elf, and I presumed him to be as powerful as Alantha, but I might be mistaken. He was pleased and kept on asking questions about me, and with a slight show of resistance he would threaten to use “other” means of getting information. A malevolent force to be reckoned with, I played along for now and answered all his questions. In the middle of our conversation, a spider crawled from his sleeves and entered my satchel. I scoffed at him and I presumed him to be a servant of Baraeon Ca’Duz who has come to root out all the Dark Elves on the surface. As always, my rage consumed me and controlled my tongue, and I was wrong, he did not come to kill me. The spider was his servant, a means of communication between him and I, and whenever I needed help, his servant will deliver my message of need to him. Someone as powerful as him would be beneficial to my survival, but siding with him would me forever amongst my other surface companions. This is hard, I do not know what to do, my allies are dwindling, and my enemies seek to destroy me. Where are my supposed allies anyway?
Parting ways, I decided to try my hand in trying to kill a few Goblins near Hlint. Approaching the camp, I was joined by a number of people I’ve accompanied before, and together we made short work of the Goblins with efficiency and speed. We were about to leave the caverns when another party led by Azaionna joined us, and this time we were to venture down a harder cavern, the mines in Haven. We were about to leave when Fehriel’s consort, Emry, joined us; She wasn’t too fond of me, and only saw treachery with my every move, she’s not that different from the lot of them. The mines were very dangerous and the Gnoll shamans were capable of unleashing Cloudkill spells which slew a couple of our companions in one instance. We managed to kill their leader, and we were on our way to the surface, I was saving my spells and I only casted support spells on my companions as well as spells that hindered enemy advance on us, but apparently, it was not enough for Emry. She kept complaining that I was not doing anything but rather I was just watching from the sidelines. It was the perfect time for her to divulge that I was a Dark Elf, and her hatred towards me fueled her even more; I was overcome by rage as well, and I threatened to kill her. She was empowered within the mines because she had the approval of most of the people who accompanied us as well as the protection of Fehriel, and by revealing me, she has damned me.
I was alone and insecure within the presence of those people, people I healed, people I enchanted with my spells, people I fought with, people I protected, and she shattered my image in front of them. Fehriel defends her with unrelenting vigilance; he defends me from people that judge me by my looks, and yet he lets her scoff at me and slander me in front of everyone, how hypocritical. He eventually scoffed at both of us for bickering, and it did not matter for she still has the favor of the majority. If she gets in my way again, I shall show her what real magic is and without any remorse. A flurry of thoughts and emotions overwhelmed me, fear and hatred for the most, and I fled the mines under the Invisibility spell and left before experiencing further persecution and harm.
I stayed in Prantz for a few weeks or so, and from time to time I went to Mistone to visit the Card Emporium. While staying at Mariner’s Hold, I’ve heard rumors about automatons wreaking havoc at a small town called Lan’s Port. I decided to pay a visit to the town in hopes of learning about the automatons and maybe even improve my knowledge on golems. Melana accompanied me, and to our surprise, “Goggles” was there along with her friend who tried to knife me. Fehriel was also there, and he was a drunken mess, something must have happened between him and his consort. Melana and I were clinging on to our lives, and we concluded that so long as we help the group and keep our input to ourselves, we were safe. From time to time we would get piercing glances from “Goggles” and we would just mind our own business and focus at the task given to us. We laid waste to the automatons and apparently, they weren’t really harmless at all, but rather they were harvesting in the fields. We found a door near the hills, and examined it with all our ability. Examining it too much, “Goggles” fell into the door and was trapped, and in an attempt to free her, the various users of the Al’Noth attempted to destroy the door with destructive spells and devices. Eventually the door didn’t last too long, and “Goggles” was spat out, she came out injured, probably because of the destructive magic; it was very amusing, Melana and I watched in amusement as “Goggles” was nearly killed by her own companions. Leaving the door alone, we found another device near it; it was a pedestal that had letters on it, most of which formed different words, bickering amongst themselves on which word to choose, they eventually came to choose one and another door was opened. We ventured inside and examined all the rooms, we fought powerful golems as well as other constructs, and we found the bodies of two people, killed by a golem called the Juggernaut. Moving onwards, we discovered another golem, this time it was capable of partial speech, and was damaged in its attempt to protect its master from the Juggernaut golems. Only two Juggernaut golems were created, one was destroyed by the golem we were speaking to, while the other was dispatched by us. We spent a long time conversing with the golem, “Goggles” was constantly trying to aggravate it by trying to elude it, and it kept us from conversing properly. Eventually, the wizard Timulty fixed the golem and we were able to move onward. We found ourselves within a small library, and we met a peculiar old man who kept on phasing in and out as if he was a ghost. As always, “Goggles” was being as rash as ever, and it kept us from having a straight conversation with the stranger. Partially, we learned more about the stranger and the realm we were in; he was a master golem craftsman, and centuries ago, he was developing a new kind of golem, the Juggernaut golem. Apparently, the Juggernaut golem became faulty and killed him as well as his apprentices. Aside from golems that were used as weapons, he also developed automatons that would tend to farming. He showed us how to deactivate the constructs, and Fehriel willingly volunteered; it was a simple task, he just had to press a rune, but as he pressed it, he was struck back, and apparently something was wrong. The stranger finally realized that he was dead, he mentioned something regarding The Source and why he still lingered on, but before he was able to say anything, he phased out completely. I left Lans Port disappointed, but at least Mel and I managed to leave safely, but with sufficient information for the time being.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-three[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I took the portal from Dalanthar to the Stormcrest Crossroads, and as I was on my way to Leringard, I stumbled upon Llane. Thinking that it would be a perfect opportunity to ask her for information regarding the war in Arnax, I immediately sought her attention. I found her very peculiar for she demanded something rather odd instead of true; she demanded information in exchange for information. At first I was hesitant but eventually I deemed her harmless enough so I agreed to her demands. She began to indulge me with information, and sadly, I was disappointed, the information she gave me was insufficient and I needed something new, but still, I kept my end of the bargain.
Apparently she already knew what I was, and as I was about to indulge her, Tod and Jaelle arrived to rest at the campfire. Jaelle was in West Gate when a number of people witnessed my dismissal from the city. Seeing her as a threat, I dragged Llane to the abandoned outpost in Dapplegreen. Inside, I indulged her with my secret – my identity as well as information about her dark cousins. I found her perplexing, her entirety in itself is an enigma; perhaps the war in Arnax has warped her from her former self, although I don’t pity her, I find her rather interesting. It’s amusing how so much of a thing can change a person, and I think more people should be exposed to the horrors of the world that way they’ll be more enlightened. She was like a mirror of myself, I had white hair and obsidian skin, she had a pale complexion and hair as dark as the abyss, I was outgoing while she was somewhat introverted. While conversing with her, she was somewhat obtrusive with her movements; she is a liability but she perplexes me so.
We parted ways and I set off to visit Moraken’s Tower to improve my craft. Upon reaching Hlint, Grovel and Nonac were at the campfire, planning another attack on the Red Light Goblins. Ayana was there as well, and we conversed for a while; Fehriel and Emry were there as well, and I avoided them. Fehriel is part of the pack, and of course, his consort was present with him. I would not risk causing any problems for the group regardless of Grovel and Nonac’s presence, so I resorted to leaving for Prantz.[/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-four[/INDENT]
[INDENT]A lot has happened over the past few weeks; my perpetual battle for survival, a few raids with the pack, as well as another plea for aid that eventually led to grave robbing. The grave robbing wasn’t really a problem, and eventually, it turned out that it was all a well thought out ruse. As much as I wanted to leave the perpetrators within the hands of the undead, I washed my hands of the matter and left before anyone else would think of questioning me. It was such a waste, and I would have been able to witness something interesting; I’ve always wondered how the undead would have dealt with infidels in their “court”.
I’ve met a multitude of surface dwellers on my journey to hone my sorcery, and among them was Llane, an Elf who’s captivated my interest thus far. She exudes a very mysterious aura and acts somewhat like a Human, and with that she has a calm disposition; but I suspect that there is more to this woman and that I have only seen a partial glimpse of her persona. A few weeks ago she did something to me, something that most surface dwellers do during mating rituals. She placed her lips on mine as if to show emotion, I knew neither what to do nor how I would respond, but it disgusted me so.
I decided to linger not on the ritual but rather focus on my sorcery so I accompanied a few adventurers in silencing the new Bugbear chieftain on Bear Island. The wench was there and so was her new mate, but she left as soon as she heard my name so things went by rather smoothly. It’s funny how she claims that I can never work in a team for being what I am, and yet she starts all the trouble. We silenced the chieftain as efficiently as we can, and with haste, we made our way to Mariner’s Hold to avoid the Bugbear swarms. It must have been my fourth time to have delivered to Guard Ashley, and I was quite proud of myself, regardless of this achievement, I was still expecting the worse from these simpletons. We were about to leave for Fort Vehl when Guard Ashley detained us to be inspected, apparently someone reported that a Dark Elf was near the vicinity. Mariner’s Hold did not tolerate Dark Elves regardless of the laws, and the guards would kill them on sight just to appease the people. We stalled them off for as long as we could, and of course, Melana defended me vigorously as always. All of my companions have been cleared save for me, and so the guards attempted to use force; I tried to reason with them but they were too bullheaded. I was about to deceive them with a lie when all of a sudden, we were all engulfed by darkness; as much as I wanted to play coy with the guards, the Tieflings acted too soon. I took the initiative and fled for the portal in the Weary Traveler Inn under an Invisibility spell. Yet again, someone has plotted my ruin, and I know who it is; soon I shall silence her once and for all, such a constant annoyance. I was teleported to Fort Wayfare and I sought for help in Fort Vehl, luckily Brian was there and I told him everything that occurred. He immediately rushed for Mariner’s Hold while I stayed behind, worried and enraged. After a few hours, he came back, and with him were Grovel and Milo, a Halfling druid. Brian came back with dreadful news of Melana’s capture; she was detained for assisting a Dark Elf.
I was consumed by rage because of the turn of events, I wanted to raze Mariner’s Hold to the ground and see the guards die one by one. For quite some time now I’ve used the law to gain a foothold on things as well as avoid persecution, but in Mariner’s Hold things were different, and the guards just cast the law aside when faced with a Dark Elf. I hated them, every one of them, especially Ashley; if only I was powerful enough, I would have done something. I was weak and powerless against them, while my allies were scattered across Layonara.[/INDENT] [/SIZE][/FONT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-five[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I got too comfortable with my surroundings and with it, my enemies used it against me, I was foolish to think that I will be safe amongst travelers. I could not contain myself, scores of Kobolds, Myconids, and Goblins I’ve incinerated just to sate my anger, all of which were insufficient. Llane tried to calm me down and enlightened me with advice regarding subterfuge and deception, she reminded me of my former self, a mirror of sorts, oh how far have I fallen. Not a problem, my resolve was only strengthened and Llane has reminded me of how I used to deal with such nuisances. Soon I shall have them in a bind, a web of their own doing that will vindicate me and incarcerate them.
Eventually, Melana was released two weeks after the incident, and she explained to me in detail what happened after my escape. The guards detained her and accused her of helping a Dark Elf escape, leaving their mark on her, a long cut was left on her arm for she tried to resist them. She deceived the simpletons, claiming that she was my slave and that she was under my control, this gained her a shortened sentence, ingenious and subtle, commendable. I was infuriated and I wanted to set sail for Mariner’s Hold and set the vile wench ablaze. I shall leave her with more than a cut, but rather I shall take more than an arm from the putrid guard. Controlling my temper, I cast aside all the hate, for the time being, and lingered on more important matters; it’s fortunate that Melana was pardoned, or else I would have had to rally a few old acquaintances.
As much as it was amusing to see that Melana was already released, I have heard of something rather interesting and familiar just along Krandor. Volga and I went to Kelin’s Inn to see why there were so many people congregating. It was the same group that I accompanied in West Gate, and they were in search of a brooch made by a jeweler named Damion, I presumed it was something of magical potency that was linked with the ominous child in West Gate. Luckily, the people that scorned me back in West Gate were not present in Krandor, so no one showed spite. Apparently we were not the only ones who were looking for this jeweler, a powerful being known as Admun Kretorin stirred the town looking for Damion, and with his presence, sprung forth the undead. I was far more interested on learning about this Admun Kretorin rather than the brooch itself.
We were informed that this Damion has lost his sanity and sought refuge within a cave within the woods, and we tracked him down. The man has lost every ounce of sanity he once had; he was warped by fear, and with that, he lingered in a cavern within the cave, surrounded by ominous sigils of potent magic. Caerwyn acted too soon and he was incapacitated by the magical symbols on the ground which soon drained a substantial amount of his blood. We were surrounded by death, Fehriel was claimed by touching a skull, Jaelle tried to help Caerwyn and was subdued in the process, Malina tried to help as well and her blood was siphoned as well. The magical symbols lit up with an eerie glow as they leeched the blood from the unfortunate, as if being powered up for something devastating. Damion was overcome by fear and he ran away as the Shade of Admun Kretorin descended from the symbols. His voice shook the very foundations of the cavern and it instilled fear among my companions; it was rather amusing to see a Toranite defenseless against such a being, for once a Toranite was silent at the face of death. The Shade demanded that Damion be brought to him for questioning, I implored those who survived to see reason and do what the Shade demanded, and they were all cooperative; they did well to acknowledge a being of greater power. My companions dragged Damion from his hiding place and delivered him to the Shade. Damion divulged to Admun Kretorin all that he knew about something they called the Shard, and with his cooperation, the Shade granted him a “reprieve.” But in the blink of an eye, Damion was taken by magic, probably obliterated by the Shade. We left for the surface with the dead, Volga and I did not stay for fear of being persecuted. I grew interested in this Admun Kretorin, a being of such power that his voice commands the air and instills fear among the living. I aspire to be as powerful as him, to learn spells that could at least be of use when I am alone and defend myself with them; I remain patient and soon my sorcery shall be of reckoning.[/INDENT] [/SIZE][/FONT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-six[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I have learned a lot over the past few months; about the incoming war with the Green Dragon Cult as well as past recollections of Sinthar Bloodstone and Eon’s betrayal to Katia. The Bird Lord of Katia, Plenarius Ashaley has re-emerged during these dark times and shared his knowledge to those willing to listen. Information during these dark times is crucial and will determine how I shall survive; soon I must decide whether or not I should join the war, as well as think deeply of the benefits and repercussions of each choice.
Setting aside such thoughts of chaos, I sought to put into action a more well-thought and intensive plan for my training. I realized that with a more organized itinerary, my progress will no longer regress into an idle state. Whenever it was convenient for others, I would take them with me into the Umber Hulk caverns, wherein I would experiment different spell combinations as well as tactical skirmishes. The Umber Hulks were powerless against us, and they didn’t matter as much, I had my eyes set on the Xorns which wreaked chaos and destruction with their powerful abilities. The way I saw it, the Umber Hulks were pawns, while the Xorns were their taskmasters, unleashing havoc from behind; much like how a sorcerer stays behind and unleashes magic while the fighters run ahead and give cover. With each passing week, I learned more ways on how to silence the Xorns, and soon I shall find new creatures to test my sorcery as well as my perception.
Coming back from the Umber Hulk caves, I made my way to Fort Vehl to cut and polish a few raw gems. I was walking rather slowly in the town center when I saw a figure running towards the docks. The figure was clad in robes of grey and blue and had a feminine disposition, I did not see her face, but her hair was as white as mine. My thoughts were correct, and as I assumed, she was a Dark Elf, running around without a cowl or disguise; I implored her to cover her visage so as to avoid being killed on sight by foolish surface-dwellers. Her name was Nidual Shi’un, a Dark Elf who just arrived from the Great Library in Voltrex. I was reluctant to speak with her, but I could not help it for I saw much of myself in her – a foolish Dark Elf unaware of the dangers as well as opportunities of the surface world. We did meet on common ground though, for she shares the same interest in Necromancy as I do. I would be stupid to trust such a creature but I doubt she’ll be able to do anything to me, and by the time her power develops, I shall be far more superior to her. Of course, I always opened my eyes to the opportunity of gaining another ally, but for now I shall let things unfold as they were meant to, and if she does cross me, I shall deal with her with my subtle ways.[/INDENT] [/SIZE][/FONT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-seven[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Word has spread of this Green Dragon Cult landing on the swamps near Fort Vehl and Port Hempstead, it is a bit daunting to see how sluggish these invaders prepare, perhaps there is something more to this powerful army than what was presumed. Rumors speculate that this army is looking for a Bloodpool within the vicinity, and that the location of such a powerful artifact lay dormant within Storan’s Crypt. A most beneficial turn of events, I must work to gain from such recklessness, which one should I ensnare?
It is most disappointing to see how this Green Dragon Cult operates without the proper people needed to carry out very simple tasks. The spy was either ingenious or stupid when it chose the disguise – an infant feline, who would have thought it a spy? Perhaps it was too unscrupulous of a disguise to say the least, although he did manage to maintain his anonymity for quite some time, I’ll give him that. Now, he’s in captivity under the mercy of the Protector of the Al’Noth, a commendable saboteur while the ruse lasted, but now his enemy will extract every last drop of information from him. I’d kill myself if I was in his position or at least try to escape and redeem my pitiful existence, we Dark Elves are masters of disguise, and the shameful swine was discovered and subjugated with ease. I have no doubt that he shall face a fate far worse once his soul leaves this world.
With the hasty extraction of information, it was apparent that a small congregation of powerful necromancers dwells underneath the backwater town of Folly of Frolic. These necromancers of Corath were different though, unlike ordinary wielders of the Al’Noth that specialize in twisting the very ethics of life and death, these beings have embraced death and are thus called “Pale Masters”. These beings walk between the threshold of life and death, as grotesque as they may be, these harbingers of death seem powerful. They have bottled up underneath an old windmill and it is somewhat surprising since we bypassed this old windmill before regardless of our suspicions regarding it. It was safe to assume that there was a connection to the mirror, and to confirm it, I would only need to take their amulets. Pity that by the time we reached the area, nothing close to a Corathite Pale Master was present for only their rotting legions were present. We eventually reached some sanctum and discerned that the Pale Masters fled or died, sufficient information was there, and I kept the information of their whereabouts to myself – the Haven mines.
All the pieces of the puzzle have been secured, and the mirror need only be activated. Finally, I was ecstatic to be able to unravel what lies beyond the mirror as well as the multitude of mysteries surrounding the blasted town. With all the amulets in place, the mirror was activated, and thus a pocket dimension was opened. Much to my dismay, the dimension was derelict and disgusting – a little hovel full of Myconids, trees, and overgrowth. The fat pie meister was there, only that he was no longer himself, warped and twisted, a thin visage was what remained of him. Disgusted and in dismay, we all left quickly for the dimension was slowly crumbling away. I had hoped to grab one of the amulets and hopefully sell them, but Leisa would not permit it. All that time and effort wasted into retrieving some Human who bakes these pies, another disappointment yet again. [/INDENT][/SIZE][/FONT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-eight
Anira Malaailmstiram’la Vieymlilc
A'stamtyanla anilgoal omeli anira vieymlilc:
Anirela stmalaanilc acywala lia lae, E’ela ilcmailwa ylaaw yty lailmca ilcc eo lia lacilelala, tyamiriltyla il oaky liema omeli anira laymoilsta kyecc layooesta. Il Iryliill em il Wkyilmo laireycw fa ilfca ane alwyma anira a'tyamelialanla; tyamiriltyla il Aneaocelv anilelanaw kyeanir fceew omeli Anira Tyeanla eo Alwcalala Laanmeoa kyecc cillaan celvam anirill aniralaa calalaam milstala. E liylaan laalw il milewelv tyilmana ane anira laymoilsta laeel, lia analaan layfviastanla ilma lacekyca wkyelwcelv illw lia laireman-anamli illalaesteilanala ilma vmekyelv elityilanealan.
E eelamceegoaw laeliaanirelv, aailmla E’ela latyalan a'tyamelialanelv kyeanir anirela stmalaanilc illw E’ela aaan ane etyal lia lielw ane eaniram ewailla. Lae liystir tymasteeyla valila illw ema celaan ane laystir il oeleana ewail, aniralaa oeecla irilela le ewail eo anira tyelalaefeceaneala iracw kyeanirel laystir il laliilcc anirelv. Fa stirilllacelv anira stmalaanilc ane il kyailtyel, E illi caoan kyeanir il liama oeviranam kyeanir viylaan illeaniram tyekyamoyc kyailtyel. Kyira laireycw E kyillaana ean elca ane anmilllaoemli ean elane il laelityca kyailtyel kyiral ean ilcmailwa ela il kyailtyel eo liillala walaanmystaneel el eanlaaco? Kyira fa stelanalanaw kyeanir viylaan ela kyiral E still cila kyillaana ane steylancalala? E liylaan wacela el anirela oymaniram illa E vilaniram liema malaeymstala.
Ilcilla, lia valeyla illaaneylwla lia lae, illw kyeanir ean E’ela liilwa aaan illeaniram tymeoeylw fmailgoanirmeyvir kyeanir anirela stmalaanilc, illa kyacc illa laastymaw lia tycilsta kyeanirel Anirilmcilstgo Liilvanirama. Aniraa kyama oeecelair aleyvir ane stirilccalva lia, illw ela fa ela aniraa ilcc oacc illa aniraa ailstir anmeaw ane stirilccalva lia oem stelanmec eelam anira stmalaanilc. Ailstir kyeaniramaw ilkyila illa anira stmalaanilc lailtytyaw anira ceoa omeli aniraem omilveca feweala.
Ean’la illiylaelv ireky tyekyamoyc laystir il laliilcc anirelv ela, illw kyeanir ean E stellaecewilanaw lia tyekyam eelam anira Anirilmcilstgo Liilvanirama. Laeel anira Anilcanirilmil lairilcc feky wekyl ane lia aelama kyireli, calaan E ylcaillair lia laky kyailtyel el Emcelaan Emfell. E irilela aaan ane elstmaillaa eanla anilmvaanelv liilanme', fyan E oaac anirilan anirmeyvir eaniram liaillla E still kyewal eanla oestyla ilmail illw ylaa ean ane fmelv anira steana ane eanla golaala. Elsta E mailstir laystir il tyeelan, anirilan oeecelair Iryliill lieviran cailml ane goleky irela tycilsta el anirela kymaanstiraw kyemcw, illw elsta ira ela eyan eo anira tyestanyma, E lairilcc mailstir anmya eliliemanilceana, omaa omeli tyilel illw liemanilc irilmli; E lairilcc fastelia il vew! Anira laanilmla kyecc ilcevl illw Anira Waaty lairilcc anmalifca oem E lairilcc illastalw ane anira irailelalla, il Wilmgo Acelal tyilanmel oilm liema tyekyamoyc anirill Anira Caoan Irillw eo Fcilstgo!
Anira oeec vmekyla elityilanealan illa kyacc oem ira goaatyla laalwelv irela aleleala ane eelamlaaa lia tymevmalala, illw ean ela favellelv ane fa lielaan illleaelv. Emelest ireky ira ela il laireman-ceelaw Iryliill kyeanir anira cy'yma eo anelia el irela laewa, fastilylaa eo anirilan lairilmw, ira irilla mailstiraw eliliemanilceana. E liylaan anilgoa anira lairilmw oem lialaaco oem ira ela ylkyemanira eo eanla tyekyam! E lairilcc irilela ela ane fa oillaireelaw illa lia kyailtyel illw ela ane laastyma lia illastallaeel elane tyekyam.
The Researcher’s Journal
Excerpts taken from the journal:
This crystal eludes me so, I’ve already used up nearly all of my slaves, perhaps a few more from the surface will suffice. A Human or a Dwarf should be able to endure the experiments; perhaps a Tiefling tainted with blood from The Pits of Endless Strife will last longer than these lesser races. I must send a raiding party to the surface soon, my test subjects are slowly dwindling and my short-term associates are growing impatient.
I overlooked something, years I’ve spent experimenting with this crystal and I’ve yet to open my mind to other ideas. So much precious gems and ore lost to such a finite idea, these fools have no idea of the possibilities held within such a small thing. By channeling the crystal to a weapon, I am left with a mere fighter with just another powerful weapon. Why should I waste it only to transform it into a simple weapon when it already is a weapon of mass destruction in itself? Why be contented with just one when I can lay waste to countless? I must delve on this further as I gather more resources.
Alas, my genius astounds me so, and with it I’ve made yet another profound breakthrough with this crystal, as well as secured my place within Tharlack Magthere. They were foolish enough to challenge me, and one by one they all fell as they each tried to challenge me for control over the crystal. Each withered away as the crystal sapped the life from their fragile bodies.
It’s amusing how powerful such a small thing is, and with it I consolidated my power over the Tharlack Magthere. Soon the Talthara shall bow down to my every whim, lest I unleash my new weapon on Olist Orbinn. I have yet to increase its targeting matrix, but I feel that through other means I can widen its focus area and use it to bring the city to its knees. Once I reach such a point, that foolish Human might learn to know his place in this wretched world, and once he is out of the picture, I shall reach true immortality, free from pain and mortal harm; I shall become a god! The stars will align and the Deep shall tremble for I shall ascend to the heavens, a Dark Elven patron far more powerful than The Lord of Spiders!
The fool grows impatient as well for he keeps sending his envoys to oversee my progress, and it is beginning to be most annoying. Ironic how he is a short-lived Human with the luxury of time on his side, because of that shard, he has reached immortality. I must take the shard for myself for he is unworthy of its power! I shall have one to be fashioned as my weapon and one to secure my ascension into power.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-nine[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Once again, my services have been employed in securing something for Arkolio, and it was a most dangerous task to say the least since G’ork, Leisa, and Dogboy were employed again as well. At first I wondered if I was employed to burn temples and slay knights once more, but then I was proved wrong as we boarded a ship bound for an island off of Hurm, accompanied by a fleet of ships. Protocol demanded further information and as always Arkolio indulged us with as little as possible until the actual incursion– the fleet was ferrying goods and trinkets to be delivered to an island off of Hurm for some unknown entity. While onboard, Arkolio’s associates demanded an audience with him to discuss further details, I presumed them to be individuals of various businesses but to my amusement, they were Black Wizards from Belinara. A trade agreement was set into motion between the two parties, and we were tasked in securing the desired trinket. Regardless of our rather vague job descriptions, I eagerly offered my services out of curiosity.
Once we landed on our drop-off point, the supplies were hauled by the sailors and we secured them until such a time when someone or something arrived to meet us for the exchange. Waiting for hours on end, a few hooded men approached us accompanied by creatures resembling dragons, although smaller. The business transaction was lengthy and dragged on with both parties on the defensive, it is sufficient to say that figuratively speaking, we were within the belly of the beast as we were surrounded by legions of bizarre creatures and armed individuals. Soon after, negotiations came to a halt and the opposing party left, leaving us for a few hours again, calm were the waves across the shore, and soothing was the breeze that swept our faces, but the tranquility of the environs were immediately shattered when a massive black dragon descended before us – the Black Plague.
Offering to the massive dragon his tribute of weapons and armor borne from rare materials like mithril and dragon scales, Arkolio put on a good show in an attempt to appease the Dragon in exchange for a simple request – to be able to use the cauldron of Tcarre. Apparently, this cauldron is capable of creating powerful magical essences that only the most powerful dream of, and Arkolio’s associates need it in order to create some powerful trinket or formula. Filling the dragon’s head with much praise and words of amusement, Arkolio was easing his way to asking his favor, but much to my annoyance, the dragon proved difficult to deal with in terms of requesting for the cauldron. Instead of making things simple by relinquishing the cauldron, the dragon demanded more of us, quite annoying really for we were in no position to deny it of its demands lest we face a gruesome death. In exchange for use of the cauldron and whatever is created from it, we are to make a duplicate to be given to the dragon, and in addition to that, the dragon must be present as the cauldron is used. In order to rectify the situation and maintain the anonymity of the task at hand, proper collateral was given to the Black Plague so that he may be persuaded not to oversee the procedure. The dragon’s arrogance continued to antagonize us, and with it, he demanded a few from our ranks as collateral – Leisa and I, to be specific. The dragon took flight and headed towards a nearby cliff, taking us as collateral in exchange for the cauldron. Watching from a distance, Leisa and I watched with scrutiny as the Black Wizards went offshore to begin preparations.
Regardless of whatever they created, no casualties were gained on both parties and that is sufficient enough considering I agreed to the contract to sate my curiosity. It escapes me still as I put the pieces of Arkolio’s various contracts, and I sense that there is an ulterior motive behind all of it. Powerful individuals and magic are in play and it would be best to remain as a cohort to please these powers. [/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty[/INDENT]
[INDENT]A beautifully crafted piece of parchment resides within the many pages of the intricate tome. The paper is interlaced with a mass of webs treated with black ink, and amidst the flurry of webs, a glowing watermark sporting an insignia is clearly seen. A few names in Dark Elven can be seen glowing with the insignia. A substantial amount of space for more names is apparent.
Yet again, another powerful being has resurfaced, Te’thalus, a lich with a legion of undead at his command. Mistone’s problems grow exponentially as it seems, and this lich is as much a threat as the Green Dragon Cult. It’s only a matter of time before the continent is consumed by all sorts of malevolent beings vying for power. It is somewhat disappointing to see how sluggish this Green Dragon Cult is with their operations, I expected them to have attacked the outlying settlements in search of the rumored Bloodpool by now.
For the time being, I must set my affairs in order and ensure the completion of a few tasks; my survival and progression will be at risk if I delay further. My objective is simple, my main targets are clear, and I need only deliver their locations of residence. I must make haste in securing such information lest his eyes gaze upon me and I burned in his impatient fury. Although, I put myself at great risk if I subject sooner than desired, I must know more about this lich before delivering its demands. Yet again I must play coy and extract information from my target; it comes with a significant risk but a necessary one at that. Hopefully this one does not see through my well-crafted visage of curiosity and benevolence.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-one[/INDENT]
[INDENT]My goals are simple and systematic, the first two steps in my grand scheme involved leaving the utopian society of Eilndar and the Deep, while the second involved laying my foundations on the surface. I’ve come across many a mage and swashbuckler, growing tired of the mindless rabble of individuals that come and go, offering their services to the highest bidder or just wasting their talents for that matter, having no allegiances or ties to anyone or anything, I sought to bring order to such chaos. Mercenaries and thugs roam the streets wreaking havoc for petty change, wizards and sorcerers wasting their powers to the brink of decrepitude. These people must be educated or better yet, controlled, if they will not see the light of my transcendent mercenary organization, then I will make them see it.
Using my resources and contacts, I set up a meeting with three individuals willing to aid me in establishing my guild and securing our place within the underground world of Mistone. Three individuals that command numerous of followers under their wing and could prove to be potential allies, and each of them offered me a chance to prove my worth and that of my servitors. A detailed list of the individuals will follow, along with further information for future reference:
Employer: Zenoir Elvi
Race: Dark Elf
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: Zenoir Elvi, a servant of Corath with a penchant for darkweaving, not only does she use it on others, but she also uses such magic on herself, thus reaching near-undeath. She commands the local underground sect of Corathite darkweavers near Fort Wayfare and the surrounding environs.
Target: Torag the Terrible
Size of Force: Minimal – 30 to 50 (Rough Estimate)
Notes: A local Orc warmonger that continues to harass the trade routes between Fort Wayfare and the backwater town of Frolic. The target has been known to harass local caravans for raw materials, food, and weapons for a lengthy period.
Parameters: Eliminate the target by any means necessary
Compensation: 25,000 Trues
Status: COMPLETED
Employer: Bluntnose
Race: Orc
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: Survivors of the Blackwater massacre, a paltry group of mercenaries trained in a lifestyle that requires a certain degree of discipline.
Target: None
Parameters: Secure the caravan to Katherian and destroy all hostile threats
Compensation: 10,000 Trues
STATUS: DENIED
Employer: Jardin
Race: Gnome
Size of Force: Minimal – 20 to 40 (Rough Estimate)
Notes: Leader of a mercenary group bent on a wide array of business ventures. The employer has recently found and unearthed derelict ruins dedicated to Toran, and has found it problematic to quell the local populace of paladins and priests that dwell therein. The paladins and priests show heightened aggression and hostility towards outsiders and each other as well. The main proponent for such a phenomenon could be the malevolent artifacts that lay hidden inside the ruins. Everything found will be gathered and split on a ratio wherein my party will take a third of the true and relics found, apparently equivalent exchange does not exist in the world of this annoying Gnome.
Target: Ruins
Parameters: Secure the ruins and destroy all hostile threats
Compensation: 5,000 Trues
Status: DENIED
Summation:
Zenoir Elvi’s offer yielded the most profit, and it also meant dealing with a self-delusional brute; it seems that one can never get something for nothing nowadays. Regardless of this brute’s title, Torag the Terrible was dispatched appropriately on the field of combat, and his forces were slaughtered within seconds. Although he was far more resilient than his underlings, he easily fell nonetheless. He received a fitting end, but it is a far too noble death for such a decrepit and inferior creature. Sadly, it was a far too easy task, but that is irrelevant, what mattered most is that we were paid 25,000 Trues in exchange for our services, and hopefully this Zenoir Elvi would acknowledge the supremacy of my little cabal. It is sufficient to say that she could have been a potential ally had she not been tainted by the Mad God; nonetheless, I will allow her to exist so long as she does not get in my way.
Considering my insufficient numbers to accommodate all three, I would have wanted to complete all three offers, but time is a resource that these surface races seem to value most so I was faced with the decision to veto an offer. The Orc named Bluntnose required additional forces to escort a caravan from Fort Wayfare to Katherian and to undertake such a task for such a minimal fee would be time-consuming. I chose the offers that were close to Fort Wayfare for convenience, and with that I would have an eye on the local mercenary groups that dwell within the vicinity, these two bands were only a few of those that I intend to dominate, it’s either they acknowledge my cabal’s existence or they crawl six feet under the earth.
Having already completed one task, I subtly agreed to accommodate Jardin regardless of his lack of transactional ethics, seeing as how equivalent exchange was non-existent to him, I would take everything from him to serve as a lesson in ethics and humility; it is somewhat mildly amusing how he acknowledged my half-hearted visage. His underlings were stationed on the outskirts of Fort Wayfare, guarding their newly acquired tomb of relics, and they numbered rather substantially with an assortment of Humans and Gnomes but they all fell easily enough. The fallen clergymen of Toran within the tomb proved far more difficult to dispatch due to the nature of their magic, but in the end I was able to secure what the Gnome wanted for himself – a massive depository of old scrolls, and along with them, one such scroll of notable magical proportions. To think that one must be subject to a choice when dealing with such offers is ludicrous, why bother with dealing with petulant contractors when you can simply take what they have, it’s much like quelling a local infestation and finding a gold mine at the same time.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-two[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Being contracted by Daralith as a guardian has been most amusing regardless of the circumstances we’ve faced – being held captive by agents of the Dark Mother, silencing a defiant farmer, and being trapped in the Deep by Chanda and her ilk. All throughout our journey across Mistone and through a section of the Deep, somehow we’ve always received a puzzle piece resembling that of an orb, to be used as a key to the next location of this elaborate hunt.
We started our journey within the Gloom Woods and met with a priestess of the Dark Mother, but such a business meeting with females never end all too well, and before we could even attempt to struggle, we were subdued and taken as prisoner within one of their temples. I woke up within a decrepit jail cell next to Brian, next to our cell was Myrena, and we had but one single female guard watching us. Myrena was constantly taunting the guard, while Brian and I devised plans on how we will be escaping. Seeing as how we were already in a tight position, in the middle of nowhere and held captive by a group of fanatical females, why not have fun along the way? In that sense, I sought to converse with the guard, in an attempt to lure her inside by enticing her with empty words and false hope. Throughout this ordeal, I’ve only been able to justify my understanding of females as stubborn and maniacal, and obviously I failed to lure the guard inside our cell. We’ve stayed there for a few more hours until suddenly, the guard just released us to meet with a tortured Daralith, and we were to be escorted to a portal back to the surface. Daralith was shaken and weakened after his business meeting, but he did not leave empty handed, for he brought with him the start of a mind-raking journey – the first orb.
It took us so much time to solve the blasted contraption made up of interchanging parts with Dark Elven letters that form into words, some of the parts were charred and proved difficult to use since the letters were near-impossible to discern. Words like House Sz’june and the Vin’larie continued to haunt us as we struggled with the infernal trinket, but eventually we managed to solve it and held inside was another orb. This orb was unique and did not have interchanging words as a puzzle, but rather it had obscure landmass for features and had three spiders on certain sections of the orb – it was an ancient map of the Deep that seems to be connected to the surface. We scoured maps of every age in an attempt to cross-reference it with the orb; one notable feature of the orb is that it acts much like a compass, wherein your location will be determined by how close or far the spiders are from each other, and once the three spiders intercept one another, then you would have reached your target.
Not only did Daralith bring back the first puzzle of his supposed mission, he also brought people on our trail. After we were abducted by the females, they decided to go on a little jaunt on the surface, and massacred a town not too far from Fort Vehl. Passing by the abandoned town, it was obvious that people were following us due to the evidence they left – the place reeked of divination magic and a pin with the insignia of Lucinda was left in the ruin.
We made our way to the Brech Mountains as we interpreted the spiders’ movements, and along the way we stumbled upon two nuisances – a defiant farmer and annoying servants of Corath. We stumbled upon two servants of Corath claiming to be old acquaintances with Daralith, and bade them to come join us, one was named Chanda while the other Cassandra. Regardless of the alliance between the Lord of Spiders and the Mad God, Daralith and the other two seemed to regard each other with slight hostility, or perhaps that was just sarcasm. But nonetheless, I found them deplorable due to their infantile mockery.
To ease our hunt for the entrance to the Deep, we decided to be civil and ask the commoners that reside near the mountains. We demanded of the farmer and his wife for information as to where we could find a certain part of the mountain, and of course, they were defiant, it was probably due to the manner of how they all spoke. Had they allowed me to speak on their behalf, we could have siphoned the information we needed in a timely manner, but then again, I may be mistaken. Defiant as they were, we let them be, but left them with a parting gift by burning their house down before proceeding onward.
We wandered around for a time, fending off the local Giant populace that proved difficult to kill due to their numbers, Brian and Myrena died most of the time during the incursions as well, but lucky for them, we had priests that could raise the dead. Oddly enough, it seemed that the spiders were no longer nearing each other but were moving towards separate ways; obviously it meant we were lost so we backtracked to the burned farmhouse where we started. Surprisingly, the spiders coincided once we reached a well near the farmhouse, oddly enough, once we got to the place, an earthquake shook the ground and a crystal rose from the crevice. Upon closer inspection, the crystal had a slot big enough for the orb to fit in, and so it was obvious enough that the orb was to be placed there, and as Daralith did so, another earthquake shook the place as something within the well began to stir and grumble. Brian took the initiative by offering himself up as the first to die by jumping in the well, figuratively speaking. Much to our disappointment, he lived, and came back, noting that the well was the entrance to the Deep. One by one, we all squirmed down into the well with a secure rope. Taking the orb with him, Daralith was the last to go, or so we thought. Once we reached the Deep, the rope was cut, and Daralith’s supposed allies were nowhere to be found. I was right in trusting my instincts and seeing them as enemies, but I feel that soon we will have our revenge against them.
Crossing the boundaries between the surface and the Deep once more, we trekked across the dark caverns and jumped across ravines, and soon after we found ourselves in an abandoned Dark Elven city. Scouring the city, the spiders finally intercepted as we reached a temple nearby a fallen house that had the statues of the Vin’larie complementing its façade. Congruent to the statues were two shimmering orbs that were saturated with magic beyond my understanding, oddly enough, as I approached them, voices began whispering in my head and I felt a searing hate for the Humans within our group, such powerful magic. I wanted to burn Brian on the spot, although it did not hold sway over my actions, I still heard the voices within my head, but soon after they dissipated as we entered the temple. The temple was massive and had elementals as new residents, but we cleared them on our way to the main hall. Reaching the very heart of the temple itself, we found a wide array of magical contraptions and images denoting that the temple was dedicated to both the Dark Mother and the Lord of Spiders, back when the two deities had followers from the opposite genders. Brian and I were tasked with overseeing the defenses of the chamber should there be any intruders while Daralith and Solena begin their rituals. What they did in the main chamber is of no concern to me, but instead I focused on making sure that the interlopers from the massacred village be deterred.
The chamber was crumbling, but Daralith and Solena were successful and were in the possession of another orb; somehow I’m not surprised for it seemed to be a recurring theme for the duration of the expedition. People were on the hunt for us and the derelict temple was crumbling, luckily we managed to make use of an abandoned contraption within the chamber which allowed the creation of a portal to certain locations on the surface. Wasting no more time, we used the portal to Fort Wayfare before the temple would get a chance to entomb us all.
Regrouping in the Silkwood forest, we discussed the new orb that was to harangue us once more, and Daralith eagerly divulged the information. The orb was transparent and held inside a scroll of sorts, but on the surface of the orb were three slots that had specific shapes, and an insignia over each slot was present – the leaf, the heart, and the wolf’s head, each synonymous to enemy deities of the Dark Elven race.
Preparations are currently being held as we plan decisive steps to assault three temples corresponding to each deity; a temple of Aeridin within the Silkwood forest, the temple of Ilsare in Hlint, and the temple of Folian S’pae on Dregar. It will not be an easy task, and we will have legions against us should we seek to advertise ourselves too much, so we devised a cunning plan that will ease our vengeance against Chanda and her ilk, as well as redirect the anger and hatred of the common populace, should any survive our assaults.
In addition to the contract of protecting Daralith and ensuring that anything that gets in our way is killed, I was gifted with a rather powerful sword to be used as leverage against Solena and her cohorts. Should she seek to topple Daralith’s control over the group or oppose him in any way, I am tasked in sending her back to her bindstone along with her cohorts. This should make things interesting, and should she overstep her limitations, it may serve as a lesson in humility for her.[/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-three[/INDENT]
[INDENT]The arrogance of females is most astounding and amusing at certain times, one particular female I’ve met on my travails on the surface goes by the pseudonym “Duchess” and has proved to be an interesting subject to examine due to her obscure personality and speech impediment. Her skills in combat are exceptional and she is almost always willing to cooperate with others provided that she is compensated properly. If I am to expand my growing cabal, she will make a fine candidate to lead a melee division as a War Mistress, but first I have to remove Solena’s taint from within her as well as educate her with the proper ideals.
Regardless of the rabble I surround myself with, I feel rather content with having to be able to influence them further, and their developments have been a boon for my own machinations. With aid from my long-term associates, I have been able to consolidate power for myself in the underground world of cutthroat politics and larceny of this surface world. With such power, I have gained more loyal and skilled followers, a cabal that I plan on expanding and reconstructing into a lethal and effective fighting force. Having set my base of operations in Fort Wayfare for the time being, I have been contracted for a multitude of tasks during my stay within the region. I need only solidify my grasp over my underlings as well as my rivals, perhaps a message must be sent to remind these beings of those superior to them.
With such booming developments, others cheer and rejoice while some turn with an envious look on their faces as they feel threatened by one such as me, often at times such folk develop a murderous glint on their faces. In order to secure my place within this cruel world, I have to destroy these envious fools and punish them for their audacity. As I gained more followers, these fools fell in line and cowered in fear, save for one, the followers of Corath. These fools have proved formidable enough to consolidate a small portion of the area and its resources to devote to their god. In order to fully educate those that yet oppose me, I had to make an example of these fools and obliterate them completely.
To my surprise, these servants of Corath have been ransacking my business ventures and abducting my underlings; I underestimated their capacity to be such nuisances, and much like vermin they’ve bred thus far and have thrived off of my inconvenience. Like vermin, they were to be extinguished. Gaining information on their whereabouts from my underlings, I set forth with a contingent of individuals that I specially hired to eliminate this threat. They were foolish to construct a temple so near the environs of Fort Wayfare and conveniently, only a few of them were left to guard the temple. Two individuals clad in black radiated a sickening aura and they both used their weapons with such proficiency. They both gave my party a difficult time due to their skilled combat prowess and I surmised that they’re probably no longer humanoid due to the deformities on their bodies, probably malformed and twisted as a reward by the Mad God; they were killed after a considerable time nonetheless.
With the underground temple in shambles, I solidify the foundations of my growing legion, and perhaps with this small step, my future goal will come into fruition. With such an auspicious event, I saw it fitting to fashion myself as a ruler, and what more can symbolize my dominion over my servitors than a circlet or a crown, one bearing my symbol or rather that of House Helvivirr. I could probably get used to wearing such a trinket, and in time, I will reclaim what is rightfully mine from the fools that dare call themselves the first house of Eilndar. I am no longer rendered blind by hedonistic pursuits and the pursuit of spellweaving development, and I do not deny the fact that I deem myself different than those fools squabbling underground. House Helvivirr will feel the tremors of my return, and I do hope that Patron Phaeryl and Matron Vasriia cooperate accordingly; I would not want to scratch my prize out of necessity.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-four[/INDENT]
[INDENT]With only one more piece needed, we set forth for the Forest of Fog in search of the hidden temple dedicated to Folian S’pae, and deep inside that lush forest, we will find our last candidate. Unfortunately, we underestimated the forest and its uncivilized simplicity, apparently, it’s as vast as most parts of the Deep, and is full of equally formidable beasts. I released Izzdrin, my raven familiar, into the outlying regions, and after hours of scouring the forest, initial reports have shown three caverns scattered across the forest and guarded by packs of massive wolves.
Garbed as servants of Corath, we all went our separate ways to cover more ground in search of these caverns, but instead we were met with more of those wolf behemoths. I encountered one as I was nearing the cavern, and judging by its size, it was a formidable one, and with that encounter I could not engage it in direct combat lest I attract more to my position. Further adding insult to injury, my right leg was caught by a snare trap that snapped and caught my foot, but conveniently I was under the guise of an invisibility spell so the wolf was unable to gander upon me, but I was sure that it knew that I was present. With no other option, I did what any sensible person would in such a dire situation, grasping my sword as tight as I could and biting on a piece of cloth, I positioned my leg such that it would touch the edge of the snare trap, once in position, I hacked at it with all my strength which severed it momentarily.
Having lost a substantial amount of blood as well as a limb, I trudged back to our original position to meet with the others, and hopefully regenerate my leg through a willing candidate. It would have been a simple procedure, a candidate would offer their flesh and I would simply touch them, sapping them of a portion of their life, thus regenerating my leg, but I doubted that any of my associates would happily oblige. Arriving at the original position, I gazed upon Eleandilethessa, blood drunk and tired, I attempted to grab her leg in hopes of regenerating mine but she proved too defiant and denied me such a simple necessity. Having lost a lot of blood already, I lost consciousness, but moments later, I awoke to the sight of my associates, with my leg fully regenerated due to Solena’s divine weaving. I suppose I should be grateful then, but had Eleandilethessa been cooperative, I could have regenerated the leg myself, it would have spared me such a debt to a priestess.
Having already regrouped in order to rethink our efforts at finding a suitable candidate for extraction, I noticed that Brian was nowhere to be seen, and none of my associates knew what befell him, the cowardly human either slithered away in abandonment or fell prey to the behemoths. Regardless of that loss, I was hell-bent on having secured the candidate for Daralith, even if it meant burning the whole forest to cinders, which gave rise to a new plan that involved such a concept. With a new battle plan at hand, we proceeded to set the forest on fire in an attempt to lure out the clergy of Folian S’pae, and as they tended to the flames, we were to strike unseen and abduct a suitable candidate from their ranks. The plan ended dismally as druids emerged from their hovels instead of priests, and as the small cattle of animals fled from the flames, larger beasts arose from their slumber in order to root out the threat of Dark Elves. I fought them as long as I could, having conjured as many Marilith warriors possible just to ensure that Daralith and the others escape safely, but it was to no avail, regardless of how many I slew, more of them swarmed and I was overpowered. I was spat out of my bindstone, weakened and dishonored by such a failure, had I been stronger I could have silenced such mindless beasts with such ease.
The Forest of Fog has been marked by Daralith’s failure, the blazing ball of fire shall continue to make cycles across the surface, and no one will truly know of what happened in that wasteland. Perhaps I should be grateful to our cunning disguises for we were not identified nor did we leave any significant traces that might be used against us, save for the puzzle orb which was lost during combat. That orb is a tool of the Dark Mother and the Prince of Hate, and as such it is of no concern to me, I will let the clergy of those two deities to discern what has become of such an ancient trinket.
For now, I set my eyes upon the Dragon Isles and the network of houses that dwell underneath if I am to expand my horizons further, and they will be the first to feel the sting of my dominion. I bide my time for now and soon House Helvivirr shall be reclaimed by its rightful prince and ruled with a will that neither the Lord of Spiders nor the Dark Mother has their sway over. With my rule, House Helvivirr shall command the obeisance of the other miniscule houses of Eilndar, and those that defy such a rule shall be repaid with draconic judgment.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-five[/INDENT]
[INDENT]A few days after Steel’s execution, a letter arrives on the doorstep of 122 Leringard; it is stamped with the shadow of a panther.
If you received this letter, your presence is requested to be at Haft Lake by the end of the week. Only those prepared to act with impunity and with an offensive strategy need come. Those that prefer to react, to stay on the defensive, should do just that, and remain at home.
Employer: Steel, the Dread Blade
Race: Abomination (Human touched by a being from the Pits)
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: Former Steward of the Leringard Arms, affiliate of the Angels Guild, considered as a Dread Blade as per a tradition, combat and spellweaving proficiency, and an ongoing mutual protection agreement with Ni’haer Helvivirr.
Parameters: Use surface race underlings as a resource in Steel’s elaborate plan
Compensation: Pending
Status: ONGOING
Summation:
No summation present; only mental records exist.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-six[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Employer: Adder
Race: Human
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: An ocular view of the employer dictates him to be one of sufficient skill with spellweaving. Allegiances and combat prowess remains undetermined.
Target: Elf, Male, 100 years of age
Size of Force: Minimal – 10 to 15 Conscripts
Notes: The target has been secured in Silkwood, a small force of bandits dwell near the crypt of the ancient lich Arindor. All potential liabilities and comrades of the target have been eliminated. Target has been transported to the One Eyed Harpy for acquirement.
Parameters: Eliminate the target at the stroke of midnight, when the two orbs are at their epitome. Failure to do so will require a new target to be acquired. Body must remain intact, especially the heart.
Compensation: Enchanting services
Status: COMPLETED
Summation:
The task was simple and mundane enough to be accomplished by a single person, but a whole contingent would be sufficient in order to fully secure the captive and ensure that the body dies at the stroke of midnight. Compensation has yet to be acquired but when needed, it will be demanded of the employer. Regardless, this Adder has proved useful in terms of providing my cabal with steady funds and employment, although his methods attract a great deal of suspicion, I am not one to question the employer’s request. What with his own macabre request, I could not help but grow curious of his intentions as well as his entirety. Conveniently, I have my own means of acquiring information, and I trust that Adder would not mind if I pry a little.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-seven[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Employer: Adder
Race: Human
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: An ocular view of the employer dictates him to be one of sufficient skill with spellweaving. Combat prowess remains undetermined. Sources dictate some association with the powerful Milara.
Target: Mechidil, Demilich
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: A Demilich of considerable power and knowledge, having lived for over seven centuries. May or may not be native to the plane of Layonara, but is currently travelling the planes. Has a following that dwells in Silkwood, the cabal is led by one Socha the Slayer.
Parameters: Gather any and all information on the Demilich
Compensation: 25,000 Trues
Status: COMPLETED
Summation:
In order to locate a being of considerable age and power, I set my sights for beings that might have lived just as long, the most convenient targets being Arindor and Storan in Mistone. Parading much like not-so-stealthy thieves, we ransacked Storan’s hovel and attempted a more civil transaction of information, but alas, the lich refused to cooperate when clearly he was in no position to make demands. Easily enough, the ancient lich relinquished what we desired but only after we’ve managed to destroy his physical form, it’s rather ironic how he easily gives us what we want without even saying a word. At this rate, the people I deal with will think of me as some petulant barbarian, incapable of staying his hand. With that revelation, I’ve reached an understanding as to how these people might refer to me, and quite frankly I’d rather be feared for what I’m capable of; that’s probably the culmination of my life’s work. These surface dwellers need to be reminded of their place in this cruel world.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-eight[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I have had the pleasure of spinning my own web of intrigues against those that dare hinder my plans of conquest, but somehow the houses that control part of the Dragon Isles won’t easily bow to my dominion, but rather they remain focused in their attempts at monopolizing the slave trade in Enderal. Without any substantial forces, I cannot simply barge into the cluster of islands and lay claim over all its land and inhabitants. I then realized that a standard Dark Elven city would have a standing army of thousands, and that army would then be fortified by a thousand more soldiers through expendable slaves. It dawned on me that I would need a substantial force to lay siege to these petulant houses, or at least have someone do it for me. Unfortunately, I cannot easily recruit Dark Elves from the Deep to do my bidding so I must steal underlings from the locals through guile and subterfuge.
Three houses vie for power in the massive underground network; the cryptic House Costyn’Myre, warlike House Aktartoyl, and cunning House Barvilquin. These three houses will make for suitable candidates for assimilation, and only the strongest will survive the first phase of the onslaught. I sent envoys to each of the houses expressing my desire to be of service to their various plans of conquest and they immediately jumped at the offer, each one expressing its elaborate plan to destroy its rival. House Aktartoyl however lived up to its moniker when it slew my envoy before it got the chance to deliver the message. House Barvilquin and House Costyn’Myre were both to devour each other and they both had planned to stir House Aktartoyl into attacking their designated target, it was only a matter of who gets to reach House Aktartoyl first. I was rather fortunate to be tasked with riling up House Aktartoyl, but I had other plans in mind. It would be a waste to let their plans unfold as originally dictated, my plan was far more suitable and limited casualties to a minimum, and in such a case, the house of my choosing would be substantially crippled.
I had to choose a house that wouldn’t resist my dominion, one that was stable but lacked security, one that exposed its flaws; House Aktartoyl was a blind pawn, a vassal to the house I choose, House Costyn’Myre was rigid, well-structured, and concealed their leaders well, while House Barvilquin was far more compromising. I thought it prudent to eliminate that which was far more powerful, and House Costyn’Myre’s well developed veil was a threat to my machinations. Their leaders were well protected and I would not be able to immerse myself within their web of nobility. Ensuring their crippling end, I struck a deal with House Barvilquin and warned them of House Costyn’Myre’s plan so that they would be prepared, and with that message my opportunist intentions were made clear to them. Simultaneously, I also struck a deal with House Costyn’Myre ensuring their enemy’s demise, and that opportunity was basically my ticket into their surface compound where they were to be trapped. Their superiors signaled for the attack to commence, but my mercenaries and I laid waste to their paltry forces instead. With the compound scoured and secured, we marched to slay any and all remaining survivors, but alas, they all fled back to the bowels of the Deep. Somehow I think that I’ve only severed a leg from a spider, and that the remaining seven legs would come back to trample over me.
Having driven away their competitor, House Barvilquin thought it appropriate enough to grant me control over their slave assets and as such I would represent the house and its minions in the slave hub in Enderal. Perhaps in the near future, I might be able to fully immerse myself within the house to the extent of becoming one of its nobility. Although, I find it rather ironic how I escaped from my bonds as a noble of House Helvivirr only to seek admission into the nobility of House Barvilquin. Then again, House Barvilquin could become my stepping stone as I paint the road red with the blood of my enemies towards the rise of the Dark Elven race and my re-entry into nobility. Perhaps a fresh start in House Barvilquin would be prudent seeing as how war would have eradicated our house had they failed to push back House Phyristra, but still, they are a liability and loose ends must be tied, they will never be forgotten. I will see them once more in due time, our grand meeting would be jubilant and extravagant balls would be held in honor of the house; father would be so pleased at my endeavors, so much so that his smile would stretch from ear to ear, and mother will clap until she dies of exhaustion.
“The cockroach dreams of stomping on the spider.”
That old Dark Elf saying always puts a smile on my face, and by the time I’m finished with my plans, there won’t be a cockroach left on the surface and in the Deep. Indifference, complacence, and the desire for hedonistic and magical pursuits can no longer satisfy me, and I see clearly now what father has desired to cultivate me for. It gives me great satisfaction in knowing that I denied him the pleasure of using me as a weapon, but somehow I am driven to pursue something bigger than my selfish desires, something that Patron Phaeryl and every other Dark Elf relishes – the one thing that is my birthright – conquest over the surface world.
“Darkness devoured the land much like pitch-black fog, and all those it devoured screamed in agony as they were nibbled on by spiders, slowly and painfully.”
Perhaps Daralith was right in his judgment after all, I was never indifferent, and the only difference was that I wore carefully crafted masks that hid my true façade. Quite frankly, I see no point in his summation since it’s more of an advantage. Such pointless words spat out from a dull tongue.[/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-nine[/INDENT]
[INDENT]A dark red script is written at the bottom of the page, one that’s distant from the usual writing on this journal is scrawled at the bottom. A brief response is written below it in the handwriting of the journal’s owner.
Employer: Alandric Vensk
Race: Human
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: Human Wizard and skilled physician; observations dictate him to be deep within the Church of Corath.
Parameters: Protect the employer
Compensation: Pending
Status: TERMINATED
Summation:
No summation present; only mental records exist.
I WILL SEE YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS SOON, AND ONCE I REACH MY FATHER, YOU’LL ALL BE IN BIG TROUBLE. I LOOK FORWARD TO PLAYING WITH YOU ALL PERSONALLY.
That won’t be happening. You’ll die before you even reach your father, and I’ll have the satisfaction of claiming your eyes as a keepsake to remind me of you.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Forty[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Employer: Adder
Race: Human
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: An ocular view of the employer dictates him to be one of sufficient skill with spellweaving. Combat prowess remains undetermined. Sources dictate some association with the powerful Milara.
Target: Andrew William Reid
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: Human minstrel of Ilsare. Spellweaving abilities have been measured and have been judged inadequate.
Parameters: Slay the stone-bound target
Compensation: 50,000 Trues
Status: COMPLETED
Summation:
Once more I am tasked with ending the life of an individual, or perhaps that would be an inappropriate term due to the target being bound to the stones. Killing the target would be futile for it would simply be spat out of its bindstone, quite an inconvenience really, but in my travels I’ve found other means of darkweaving that could be sufficient enough to at least cripple the target. If I’m killing these people for monetary compensation, I might as well give my employer an added bonus for his gracious patronage of my cabal. With that in mind, not only did I kill the annoying minstrel, but I also took a sample of his blood, but only just enough for a spell to be fabricated. As for the spell itself, I leave it to Stygian to figure that part out, and with him being a “know-it-all” wizard I’m sure that his vast knowledge could easily discern the proper ritual needed.
The task itself was not much of a challenge, and the minstrel easily lunged into my web of intrigues. Thinking me for a patron of his raw goods, I set up a meeting with him at the Stormcrest Crossroads for the transaction, and instead of a jubilant patron of wild mushrooms, he found his executioner clad in green robes with a skull for a mask. He died an honorable death and fought for his life in civilized combat even though his attempts at harming me were futile.
With these myriad of contracts I’ve acquired, I found myself perplexed at the idea of acting as an executioner for my employer’s vengeance. Is this the will of the Prince of Hate? Is this why he kept me alive, only to wreak such vengeance on these surface dwellers? I was a petulant child beneath the shadow of the patron of our great race, and I spat on the face of the Prince of Hate as I fancied myself as someone greater than him, yet he never retaliated. Is he incapable of doing so? Or perhaps he’s biding his time, but why would he when he’s a god, and I am but a speck of dust beneath his boots.
Perhaps even in my faithlessness, I subconsciously upheld the will of the Left Hand of Black, and that my travels were manipulated in order for me to be fashioned as a weapon of vengeance. Even with that crazed delusion, I cannot help but think of the relevant symbols and events I’ve seen in my travels. On one occasion, Arkolio mentioned that the gods were fickle creatures, but now I realize that I’m not so different from the very divine creature that I loathed. I am confused, caught in my own web of intrigues, and this time a new player enters the fray, a divine creature that’s ready to devour me.
I dance over a dangerous court and my enemies are ready to trip me; I must prepare a new façade for a new masquerade.[/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Forty-one[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Toryll Solen amuses me so, but her very presence stirs the bile in my body, and now I find myself stuck in a very binding situation with the wretch. It’s mind-raking how such a frail temptress can break even the most powerful of beings with her venomous tongue. She ridicules me with her “lessons,” reducing me to some mongrel whelp of a Dark Elf bereft of any proper breeding. I bide my time and indulge her delusions of superiority while at the same time repay her with just as much venom spat out from my own sharp tongue. I somehow find solace in this rivalry for it brings me such focus and makes my schemes far more creative, one of the many lessons I surmised from such an arrangement. She was correct in her assumption that I need her, but only for so much and a given time frame. I must repay her for her generosity and usefulness in the near future, and perhaps I’ll make her “need” me and switch the tides momentarily. Perhaps I’ll keep her around in the future for a fine Matriarch she will make, and this arrangement will remain intact so long as our interests coincide with one another. [/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Forty-two[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Lord Rael the Benevolent has finally made his move, and this time he uses my kindred as his scapegoats, such a feat should be acknowledged for finally the brute has shown some semblance of cunning. Unofficially, he already controls majority of Dregar as well as the nations underneath it through his condescending military might. It seems he isn’t even breaking a sweat when it comes to obtaining dominion of Dregar since he’s only garrisoned 10% of his forces in the Rael Kingdom whereas the other 90% are left to brood down below for whatever scheme Rael has planned for them. Most would laugh at the diminutive 10% but “most” have yet to see that 10%, and that small statistic represents a quite substantial amount of troops. He’s already shown the cunning underneath that brutish exterior and perhaps it’s time for us to play a game.[/INDENT]
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I stomached the presence of Lord Rael the Benevolent for far too long, I believe it’s time to slap the cowering Dark Elves beneath Rael’s sole and remind them of the true order of things. Superior beings should not be seen as fragile and weak, they should be feared above all else and I will remind those fools down below of that daunting reality. I was born a noble and I regressed from that wonderful lifestyle for whatever ignorant pursuit of wanderlust I yearned to satisfy. I imagined myself above the petty doctrines of the society and its faith and I crafted a façade of indifference and delusional superiority, but underneath all that, I burned with the intensity of that which I sought to escape. Thus I realized my true calling: I will herald in a new age of terror on the surface that will educate the lesser creatures of the might of their superiors. They will learn to fear us, even the mighty warriors bound to the magical stones.
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I’ll start with Lord Rael the Benevolent and his slaves.[/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Forty-three
It is quieter now, yet I still find myself overwhelmed by a myriad lectures and books that offer a sense of thrill and pleasure as I scour the pages of each ornate tome and unravel certain truths and arcane powers. The City of Mithrildust reveals many of the secrets that surround the race of rulers and it only empowers me so. The webs we weave run deeper than we think and there is a grand scheme behind all the chaos of the surface and the Deep. Arcane knowledge and magic are of minor import now, they are but tools that I use to weave and manipulate the massive web.
Prior to this entry, my stay in the city was a very problematic one and I eagerly sought to bring peace to my already hectic existence. Not only did I contend with two pregnant females, I also shared my station with a batch of five incompetents. They were pompous nobles whose stations were gifted upon them by their houses. Their lack of passion and ambition enraged me so, and I hardly considered them as peers; they reminded me of my long distant past, a shade of my current being long dead and bereft of nobility. They were ingrates that spat upon the Dark Father with their inadequacies. Amidst hushed whispers, they spread lies of my failings in the Deep and in the surface, yet evidently, I reached a higher station than they have through sheer cunning. They swarmed against me and found strength in their union, but it was their undoing. I expected more from the omnipotent intelligence of wizards.
I purposely misled my conspirators regarding any facts about myself and denied them any semblance of my full spellweaving capabilities. Curious enough, I noticed some recurring patterns in magical signatures that surrounded my room from time to time and I discovered that they were left behind from scrying. One cycle, I noticed the same effects on the room which signaled their occurring attempts at discerning anything about me. I immediately summoned and bound a denizen of the pits, an erudite human female touched by the pits named Frei’jas. Having succeeded, I immediately compelled it to share its knowledge on a powerful curse unknown to my colleagues, and it supplied me with what I demanded in the form of a scroll. I summoned her not for the scroll but as part of the ruse and I waited patiently for the fools to spring the trap. The scrying ended just as soon as I held the parchment in my grasp.
A cycle later, one unfortunate fool jumped into my web, and I waited for it to come closer with a genuinely pleased smile. They sent Veszorviir, the weakest of their lot to test the waters and steal my powerful scroll, so sure of their victory they failed to account for what awaited their champion in my quarters. The pitiful male was inadequately warded and was also very much unprepared; they jumped blindly without any knowledge on who they were dealing with. One by one, I destroyed his wards but I did not kill him, instead I kept him safely in check as I wrapped debilitating spells upon his paralyzed form.
I offered him power beyond reckoning in the form of a scroll from the pits. Veszorviir knew in his black heart that he lacked an edge amidst his co-conspirators and he thought that he could change that ever so easily should he get his hands on the scroll I dangled in front of him. He was skeptical regarding my eagerness but the temptation was too great, and I, the ever humble sorcerer that I am, only desired a truce so that I might better spend my time in the web productively. It was assumed that this truce would be between Veszorviir and I, and he jumped on my offer with a murderous gleam in his eyes.
Four cycles passed and my enemies were nowhere to be found, their absence warranted an inquiry. The team charged with the investigation soon found them and a very pleased and bloody Frei’jas in the hidden scrying chamber. Unfortunately, the pit creature was slain in the same gory manner that befell its meal. They cleared all the evidence for me, which made things all the more convenient. The remnants of my peers were easily cowed by this display of power and it felt good. I fed on that fear all throughout the cycles of my sojourn.
The web finally welcomed its prodigal son back home and all was finally good.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Forty-four
I once denied the Dark Father his dues and escaped the confines of my people in order to satisfy my wanderlust, it is ironic for me to grasp the idea of being unleashed upon the surface. The gestation period of the two females is nearing its end, along with my training and soon I will be unleashed upon the surface, renewed and far more powerful than ever. Unleashed, the word seems more like a slight to my civilized and sophisticated demeanor, branding me as some bound creature from the pits. I do not deny it, underneath this exterior is a beast waiting to be unleashed upon the cattle of the surface. How the beast within me hungers for the surface, and soon we will be reunited. Reunited like lovers, such a romantic notion.
One thing that I enjoy so dearly in my relationship with the surface is its unrelenting campaign to always keep me in motion since it is apparent that it does not want me to waste away in the throes of hedonistic luxuries. By the time I set foot on the surface, a Dark Elf by the name of Lirtrisk has already caused more trouble than I. I was skeptical regarding the female’s motives since intelligence reports have continuously poured in regarding Lord Rael’s dealings with the Dark Elves. The female was a hired mercenary and had a veritable reputation of pursuing her directive down to the last letter, thus bringing in the factor of a noble house into the fight against Lord Rael. This female believed she could shake Lord Rael’s foundations by initiating a series of simultaneous attacks on specific points in the Rael Kingdom. She was greatly mistaken.
Lirtrisk rallied thousands to her cause and was bent on sending the thousands of Dark Elves in an all-out strike at Lord Rael’s supply depot in Oakhurst. Various city-states have pledged hundreds of soldiers forming a massive army large enough to overtake a surface enclave. I petitioned for a retinue from the City of Mithrildust and they spared me twenty soldiers, it was evident that their generosity was fueled by their skepticism. The nobles of Mithrildust probably know more than they look.
The battle was fought on two fronts: the northern front led by Lirtrisk and the southern front by me. The armies were let loose at nightfall from a hidden tunnel in the Forest of Fog. I led two thousand Dark Elves into Oakhurst and found it swarming with Deep Dwarves; Lord Rael was apparently well-informed of the attacks. The southern front pushed through easily but things slowly turned grim for the northern front as it faced reinforcements. The folly of females ultimately led to the deaths of thousands of my people and Lirtrisk’s hands are stained with such unnecessary losses.
Witnessing her downfall, I immediately set off to destroying the depots while the rest of the other armies were busy looting the fallen. Rael’s soldiers came in full as they sprung up like mushrooms off the ground and they devoured the fools possessed by greed. I led the remaining survivors back into the Deep through the same tunnel we emerged from. Only half of the original force survived along with the twenty I brought from the City of Mithrildust, needless to say, the twenty proved to be quite formidable regardless of the miniscule number.
Lirtrisk perished along with the rest of the misguided soldiers, I will not let that simply pass. A noble house was in league with Lord Rael and I intend to root them out and torment them. Death would be a merciful reprieve for them, they will live as my retainers and I will use them as I see fit in this game of intrigues. Coddling Lord Rael has its benefits and selling undesirables to fuel his war machine is different from sending thousands of soldiers to their doom. I could have used that army for a much more productive purpose! The fools that hired Lirtrisk will pay dearly for this, the harlots that they are for bending down to Lord Rael. If I find them, I will be their new master, better a Dark Elf than a filthy Deep Dwarf!
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Forty-five
Many cycles have passed since the attack on Oakhurst and I’ve been planning my ascension. It all started with Zahto, one of the Eight Eyes, and his request of me, thus opening a window of opportunity. I so graciously complied to the whims of my superior and as an Instar I was charged with simple labor. I was sent away to meet the Archmage, one presumed by most to hold more power over the First Patriarch. It was made clear me to me then and there that I was to eventually choose which side to .
I met the Archmage and found him an arrogant and pompous creature, but still he warranted a morsel of my obeisance as an acknowledgment of his station. I was tasked to gather reagents –a mindflayer head and some beholder eyestalks– as well as gather information regarding a very powerful Darkweaver beholder. Grunt work never appealed to me but I swallowed my pride and I waited patiently for a window opportunity to show itself.
My retinue and I slew many a mindflayer and beholder alike, so much that there were hardly any left to relinquish information. The Prince of Hate smiled upon me as we stumbled upon the very ruler of the beholder den – High Malpheus Elissan. The beholder and her coterie resisted but their efforts were to no avail, we easily subdued the “imperious perfects” of the Deep. We held them as our battle-captives and proceeded with diplomatic negotiations by threatening to kill the High Malpheus’ mindflayer servant who was valued greatly. However, the High Malpheus held a trump card of its own in the form of six beholder carcasses pinned to the ceiling of its den wherein it can quickly melt the pins and allow the ceiling to fall. Negotiations were cut short with the beholder’s newfound leverage and we left lest we face an untimely demise.
High Malpheus Elissan proved to be very cooperative and divulged much that can be used about the powerful beholder named High Malpheus Sulrouzen as well as the highborn within Mithrildust that hover above my head sneering in my obeisance. Ransacking the beholder den incurred the wrath of the First Matriarch which gave me pause for thought; was I trapped within the weave of the Archmage and the First House? If so, I would do well to stir the situation to my benefit. The Archmage also played coy when I delivered my report on the High Malpheus Sulrouzen and it seemed as if he already knew the creature. These creatures amuse me with their games and intrigues but it will be their downfall by including me as a new player. After the report, the Archmage sent me to meet the First Patriarch to deliver a parcel, a foolish decision on his part.
The First Patriarch received me with a bored look on his face and yet he still presented me with an opportunity to serve his noble house. The highborn clarified things for me and the events that transpired were easily connected; the Archmage was plotting against the First Patriarch’s noble house and using me to ransack the beholder den would threaten the First Matriarch’s assets as well as remove me as a threat. With all that information, I was sent to locate one named Zern, a spy of the Archmage under the First Patriarch’s household. I was to extract a confirmation of his guilt and leave no trace of his existence. The pieces were set in place and I need only seal the Archmage’s doom.
I found Zern’s abode in the more commonplace sections of the city and it was poorly warded against spells. Zern had company and offered us minimal resistance, so much so that my retainers slew him; apparently bloodlust doesn’t help as much in these situations. Nonetheless, we raised his pitiful soul back from the realm of the dead and persuaded him to confess his guilt. He was reluctant to cooperate at first but after I presented him with a glimpse of his future as a cripple, he willingly conceded to my demand. With his confession came a startling new player into the game of intrigues and it was one named Zahto, an Eye of Baraeon Ca’Duz and co-conspirator with the Archmage.
The First Patriarch sanctioned their deaths and as a faithful servant of the Prince of Hate and the City of Mithrildust, I willingly obliged. The players were revealed to me and vengeance would be mine at last, perhaps even a sliver of power. We found them in the environs of the city and we engaged them at once, Zahto was among the first to die with the grunts and the Archmage proved to be very resilient but still he died just like the rest. With the Archmage’s staff and the ring of Zahto’s office within my grasp, we re-decorated the battlefield to make it look like it was attacked by vengeful beholders and mindflayers; that should at least keep the First Matriarch off my back for a time.
The ever shifting web of the Prince of Hate has once again realigned and endowed me with much power. When the Father first embraced me, his hatred filled me and gripped my heart like fast-acting venom; it wells inside me until now like a festering wound that brings guidance. Now he bestows upon me a clasp to put on my finger as a sign of power over those below me.
Praise to the Prince of Hate!
Glory to the highborn!
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Forty-six
It feels odd to think that I once put much stock in the art of divination, and now I find myself hating the craft with every fiber of my being. What use is discerning hints of the future when they’re too vague to work with? These charlatans parade as would-be seers spreading their lies, I shall have their tongues soon enough!
However, a prevalent theme is inherent in every reading, one of catastrophe, greatness, and death. Liars and thieves they may be, they sure know how to please my sensitive ears with their beautiful yet vague predictions. Useless the predictions may be, one sparks my interest and may stay my wrath. It is unsettling and glorious at the same time, one of epic proportions that bring truth to what the highborn live for.
"The Prince of Hate in mortal guise
Shall descend before his children
And usher in the light’s demise."
It has been a year since that prediction and the possibility still brings shivers down my spine, yet I live for its culmination nonetheless. I’ll bring the Dark Father his fill of sacrifices until I see him descend upon us and perhaps he’ll look favorably upon his faithful servant. However, my campaign against the followers of the Wretch has been put to a halt due to an unprecedented event – the exodus of the Wretch’ followers. Reports claim that the exodus was brought about by matters regarding the inner workings of their damnable faith. It doesn’t strike me as a surprise to see the fools flee before their destruction since it’s what they do best after all, the spineless cowards that they are. What unsettles me is the timing of it all, what with the flight of the Wretch’ followers and the convocation of conclave in Mithrildust, something big is veiled before me and I’m aquiver in anticipation. Both events seem to coincide well with one another and the conclave has yet to convene in over a century.
My lack of knowledge regarding the convocation of conclave is unsettling and places me at a significant disadvantage. Some of the incompetent fools within the council share in my plight and that much is true unless the council means to betray me. I will not –I must not– let myself look weak amidst those ravenous spiders! Yes, I’ll mislead them and make them think that I’m two steps ahead of them and once I catch them off their guard I'll make them think I’m two steps behind.
I am not nervous, the lack of information is simply unsettling me, nothing more. If they try to harm my interests, I’ll tear them apart and offer their putrid sacks of flesh to feed the holy spiders of Baraeon Ca’Duz. If To’ryll Solen dares to even try to lecture me on what I feel, I’ll throw her into that ravenous pile of spiders in my stead and perhaps that should convince her not to assume so much.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Forty-seven
It stirs deep inside its cocoon waiting patiently for the day when it will be released. With legs outstretched, it bursts forth from its chrysalis eager to feast on the weak. It feasts on one then moves on to the other. While feasting on its victim, something bigger and stronger devours it. The cycle repeats itself.
They feast on one another until only two are left. The two do battle and eventually one is devoured. The victor savors its meal and stops in the middle of its feast. It perishes and its body contorts into a smoldering cocoon.
Thus am I reborn, quiescent of two halves. With my rebirth, the beginning of the end is soon at hand.
Nothing else follows. The journal is bound in a mass of black spider webs and stored some place secure in Ni’haer’s compound. This final entry marks the end of the narrative journal.
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