The Journals of Connor Garvill

[Dorganath]

After months of wondering what part I had to play here, I have taken instead to trying to better myself, and in the process, some interesting things have happened.

I've learned to make healing potions...I may have mentioned this....from certain plants and roots.  I have become quite good at it, actually.  I may seek to begin selling them, if I can find buyers.  For now, I make them for myself and the occaisonal batch for a friend, Kat, who brews Wizard's Wheat Ale as a hobby.

But in the gathering of ingredients for such things, I come across various other plants and such that people seem to need.  As a result, I've made a fair amount of money recently by collecing, and selling, boxes full of things like aloe, garlic, spider silk and more.  I'll never get rich this way, of course, but perhaps soon I will be able to afford a few things to aid in my journeys.

My skills in alchemy are finally finding a use as well.  Archmagus Elinmire has taken to buying the Alchemist's Fire I make from the fire beetles in Seilwood and elsewhere.  He needs them for some magic spell.  I forget their names sometimes...he described it as a storm of flaming arrows.  It sounds powerful, and some day I hope that Lucinda grants me the ability to cast it myself.  Also, Elinmire has been one of my best customers for large quantities of things I collect. I'm not sure what the old wizard is up to with all this, but his needs are great.

I'm also able to aid my friends through alchemy, and that makes me happy.  Kat is also a skilled tailor and an apparent expert in the kitchen.  We often trade tanning oil that I make for juices she makes.  The juices go into various essences and potions which, again, seem to have real value to some people.  It feels good to contribute to the work of others.

The boy, Tom, has come to me for help with using his magical gifts.  The first lesson was difficult, for both of us, I think.  But we seem to have some common experiences in our respective awakenings.  For the first time in my life, I have had to actually think about magic and how I call it forth.  It was like trying to teach someone how to breathe.  At any rate, the next time I saw Tom, he was able to call forth his magic on purpose, when before it had been linked to his state-of-mind...his emotions.  This is indeed a good development.  I hope our next lesson will bring about more growth and control on his part.  

The whole experience with Tom has increased my desire and motivation to continue my discoveries of Lucinda and the Weave.  I have begun relying more upon the strength of my magic and less upon the strength of my arms...which is not all that much strength in either case.  When alone, I often avoid combat that I know to be too perilous.  And when given no option or when I am confident in the outcome, I call upon the Weave, with Lucinda's blessing, to empower my attacks and to guard me against harm.  

And recently, a chance encounter with Naga, whom I have not seen in a long time, brought about a conversation of Lucinda, of gifts and my desire to learn more.  She has requested that I meet her at the temple in Blackford to discuss some things further.  I'm eager to hear whatever information she has.  Perhaps this will lead to the beginnings of finding my purpose here.

But unfortunately, it has not all been positive.  The orange moon has risen.  I do not know how much longer it will last, but I fear it will not be long enough before the red moon rises.  This event concerns me greatly, though I am not fully sure why.  

It seems through my desire to help and to aid with the fight against Blood and his armies, I have unwittingly played a part in the return of a serpent god, after having been deceived by the Black Wizards themselves.  I can only guess as to what this means for the future...and our greater struggle against Blood.

And most recently, the red fog reared its ugly head throughout the land, and the dead rose from their places of rest.  I helped to defend Hlint against the undead, while others journeyed to try and locate an artifact to aid us against this scourge of the red fog.  This is, of course, good, but the cause is not.  But in the process, I learned that the red fog is the opposite of the Weave, though calling it anti-magic is not entirely correct.  From what I've heard, the fog seems to be anti-life...as it destroys life from the living and grants it to the dead...or the undead.  Lucinda tells us that the Weave IS life, and to protect the Weave is to protect life.   And so in that respect, the fog must be stopped, or we shall all suffer.

[Dorganath]

The pen feels heavy as I write this.  These last several days have seen much tragedy...much deceit...much treachery. I am discouraged, frustrated and utterly enraged.

A constellation has returned to the sky, heralding the return of a god.  Through deception and manipulation by the Black Wizards, my group and I were instrumental in bringing this about. I must say, I do not relish being used in this manner...or at all.  And the thought of this brings me a fury like none I've ever known.
*there is a small scorch mark at the end of that sentence*

And now, a new round of drow attacks upon Hlint, and this Navarre person...fallen paladin of Toran, now casting his lot with a much darker lot. Worst of all, these new dark forces have taken to targeting my friends...harming them...holding them hostage to threats.  Brisbane...Katrien....poisoned by some unknown agent and used as hostages of a sort to keep Plenarius and Celgar out of the picture...to keep them from resisting this new threat...and a drow assassin carved a message into the skin of Kat's back...I have heard other prominent people have been threatened in similar ways.  Sand has episodes of insantiy, which according to him are due to Milara taking control of his mind.  Knowing that Milara's involved with this is certainly disheartening....nearly to the point of despair.

And then there's this rage again...Rage toward Milara, Navarre and whoever else seeks to harm my friends like disposable pawns in some sick game. *another scorch mark*  And in feeling this rage, I've apparently taken to manifesting some kind of energy around my hands.  I can't say I've ever actually seen it...or noticed it happening, but three times now, I've greatly alarmed the people with whom I was speaking...one, Kat, to the point of running away before I realized what was happening. I cannot say I am pleased with this, for I do not wish to harm anyone.  And yet, something Sand said (when he wasn't running around like a crazed maniac) makes me think that perhaps this is something previously unknown that I can tap into and cultivate. I don't know....I think I may have to actively seek out more information on the Weave, what it is, how it works.*an ink blot appears here as if the pen rested on the parchment a bit too long*

I need to meditate on the events of these last few days...put everything in order...try to gain some understanding of it all.  There's just been so much negative, and it weighs heavy upon my heart.  

I just wish that I could hear some good news for a change.

[Dorganath]

In the midst of all this chaos, I have tried to make sense of a lot of things, though it has been quite difficult. I had a long talk with Kat about recent events.  A welcome perspective from my own, to be sure, but the attack...and the poisoning...are too fresh in everyone's minds.  There's so much confusion...so much speculation.

And yet, little by little, I am starting to make sense of it all....at least I think I am.  

I knew I had to clear my head...spend some time alone, before I would be able to sort through this jumble of information.  I decided to head for Blackford Castle and pay a visit to the Lucindite archives there....to think about something else besides the drow assault on Mistone...and on my friends.  As I reached the castle, something compelled me to walk instead into the hills.  I had never realized before how peaceful a location that was.  I sat there and watched the water, listened to the breezes play through the grass, and basically tuned out everything else.  I don't recall how long I sat there, nor what I thought of as I sat.  I know that when I returned to my normal perceptions, the sun had moved greatly in the sky.  I assume it was still the same day.

What brought me back from my meditation was the approach of Naga.  We sat and spoke at great length about the Weave, her (former*) Order and a few other concepts new to me...at least new in the sense of putting them into words. ((The word "former" was added as an after thought and appears above the line of text))

And after our talk, she took me to the archives, where I was going anyway.  She pulled a few books from the shelves and handed them to me, before leaving me to study them in solitude.  Lucindite histories, writings of magic and power, discussions on familiars, theories and observations of the Weave...

I must have read all night and into the next day.  I avoided books that spoke of spell theory and all the other drudery that wizards go through.  I tried that road once long ago, and it simply did nothing for me.  No, it was the Weave itself that intrigued me.  And also, it seems, throughout history there have been quite a few and widely varied Lucindite Orders.  Several still exist today, and a few of those are quite intrigueing.  When matters are not so urgent, I should return and find out more.  I should also take up Kat's offer to study her father's books on the Weave.  

My research and the various talks I've had with people have helped to clarify what the Weave truly is...at least as far as we can perceive it.  One concept in particular rang especially true.  In my previous conversation with Sand, he said he believes that All beings have a spark of magic, and that spark allows them to access the Weave in some way.  The spark is big in some, smaller in most, but all life is touched in some way.  And Naga said something similar.  In essence, she said that the Weave is not some separate "thing" we draw upon to use magic. Rather, we are all part of the Weave...connected to it...infused with it.  We are not separate, we are one.  

Unity. (an ink blot appears here from the pen standing too long)

When I spoke with Sand after the....incident in Hlint a few days ago, Ozy spoke of unity and knowledge.  He mentioned that Milara wants us disjoined and ignorant.  He fears our unity, our strength and our knowledge.  These are probably the keys to his defeat, or at least the defeat of Navarre and the drow hordes he seems to command.

But will anyone listen?  I don't know.  For good reason, those who are in position to help us the most are caught up in a kind of paralysis, and it's hurting their judgement, I think....making them jumpy...causing them to miss opportunities.  I foresee great disagreements ahead if something does not change.

Yet, there has been progress.  This poison has a name: Soul Venon.  It is a "gift" from the drow god Baraeon Ca'Duz.  Made only once every hundred hears.  It infuses itself with the victim's body, eventually consuming it.  The venom can also be activated in some way, causing immediate death that not even the magic of the bindstones can overcome.  Those afflicted with the venom acquire a mark of a spider on their necks.  Work is progressing on a cure, but it will likely take some time....and will likely include danger.

Scherzo continues to work on an antidote, but I have learned that he has allowed himself to become poisoned....even requested it from Navarre himself.  This was either a brave, selfless act...or a foolish one.  Time will surely tell.

And now, there is this business with a paladin of Toran, Lithia Delmir, supposedly the daughter of Remiel Delmir, a man I have met perhaps once in my travels.  She supposedly has a ritual that can stop the progression of the venom. Though this ritual does not cure it outright, it keeps it from damaging the victim further.  I learned of this from Lalaith Va'lash, also aflicted with this venom.  

Plenarius, Celgar, Rhizome...they are all very skeptical of this woman because of her father mostly...partly because of Tom's reaction to her and the timing of her appearance with this ritual.  I can't say I don't understand their reluctance, but at the same time, I don't understand why they would dismiss this small hope out-of-hand.  I know I am not as aware of the intricate histories of the people and places of this land, and I know I am not personally affected, but it seems to me that all possibilities should be checked out, not simply dismissed without investigation.  At a small pond in Hlint the other night, there was much discussion about this issue, and very little listening, it seemed.  Several times I tried to speak up...and was met with no response...no acknowledgement.  I eventually got up and slipped away.  I don't think anyone noticed....at least not right away.

So far, I am unafflicted, and I have not been directly threatened by Navarre.  I think this gives me a certain degree of freedom in the actions I take.  I must try to bring this point up again to the others, and hope they listen.  

But, there has been some good news.  It seems Celgar and Katrien are betrothed.  I am very happy for both of them, and I look forward to the end of this crisis for both of their sakes....and everyone else's of course.  

*written in the side margin* Again...unity.  Unity of spirit and of cause.  The unity of marriage.  There are no coincidences....

*the next section was written more hurried than other entries...likely on a different day than the rest of this entry*

There was an attack outside of Port Hampshire today....what seemed like hundreds of spiders, and some undead.  I have never seen so many spiders, but there were many brave warriors to combat the threat.  They eventually made it inside the city walls, and we fought them off there as well.  Something curious....the spiders....they did not attack the people who were already afflicted, presumably so that Navarre's bargaining tools are not killed before their usefulness has run out.  My heart tells me that this information can be used to our advantage.

Cole Etinfall has been added to the ranks of the afflicted.  Whether this was an accident or not, I do not know, for no threat from Navarre followed. Indeed, Navarre didn't appear at all this time.  Perhaps Cole was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.  

After the spider attack, this Lithia appeared and performed her ritual upon a few of the afflicted who aided in the battle. I observed the ritual closely...reached out and tried to sense the fluctuations in the Weave while it was being performed.  I sensed a great power was in use, but I did not detect anything....sinister.  Then again, my knowledge and experience in such matters is very limited.  Perhaps I should investigate such things on my own.  I also did not get a sense of any deception on her part, and the ritual itself seemed to take a great toll upon her own being.  If Lithia is part of some grand deception by Navarre (*written above the line* or Milara), it is certainly a good one. I may speak with a Toranite....perhaps visit the temple....and see what I can learn about Lithia and this ritual.

[Dorganath]

These last few days have been quite eventful, so say the least.  So many people seem to be running around in a panic, trying to solve this drow problem and cure the poison.  Everyone is doing something, few are doing anything together.  

The drow have taken to calling Kat, Lalaith and possibly others (Bris?) their "queen" and the drow seem to respond to their words....as they continue to afflict others with this vile venom.

In the midst of all of this, the boy Tom came to me and asked me for more help with his magic.  I was encouraged by this, as I had been hoping to guide him further, and in doing so, perhaps learn more myself.  I asked Tom for a demonstration of what he could do so far.  He tried, but nothing happened. I thought he was uptight...nervous...and I told him to try to relax.   But he did not wish to relax. He was upset...about his mum and dad...about the poison, the drow, everything.  As his raw emotions surfaced, so too did the magic.  It swirled around him, growing more intense as his emotions grew more intense.  There was little I could do to stop it, so I bade him to let it out.  As his emotions peaked, he released the magic energy in several cones of fire that leapt from his hands.  So much magic flowed through his small body.  It tore at him...drained him...and he collapsed from the strain.

I sat with him...tried to reassure him.  Even in his weakened, collapsed state, magic still flowed and pulsed around him, and it seemed to cause him some discomfort.  I put a hand on his back and tried to channel that energy away from him, into me, then through me and out.

This gave him some relief, though he was still greatly drained and strangely restless.

In the midst of all this, a drow visited his "auntie" Kat, who was nearby.  Tom desperately wanted the comfort of her embrace, but it was not safe.  I took him away, reluctantly, to a place where we could sit and he could rest.  He slept out of sheer exhaustion, but fitfully.  Once more, I laid a hand on his back, but this time, I bade the magic flow into him, though just enough to restore his balance.  With this action, he calmed noticeably and seemed somewhat refreshed, though still tired and weak.

I am pleased that he came to me, and he shows great potential, but he is too young to command such power as he did.  He hasn't the strength yet, and so I must try to teach him control.

Still, in all of this madness, it was a welcome event.

[Dorganath]

It seems the drow are not satisfied with simply holding a few people hostage to this venom.  More people have been afflicted.  Many of them are my friends...so many that I have started to wonder whether or not I am being targeted for something by the drow.

But it seems, I need not wonder any longer, for now, I am afflicted as well. (the period is larger than normal as ink flowed from the tip of the pen)

The cowardly drow struck me down as I was selling some extra goods at the pawn shop in Hlint, having just stepped foot back in town not one minute prior.  I bear the mark of a spider on my neck now, as all the others before me.  I'm not sure yet what to think.  I find myself alternating between feelings of steely resolve and apathetic despair.

After my attack, I had to get out of town.  I wandered down through Seilwood, picking up a few things along the way....for what purpose I had not yet decided....perhaps it was just habit.  I walked into the Broken Forest and met Talan, who was trying to single-handedly put an end to the undead infestation.  I joined up with him for a bit, tearing into the undead with a fury I had felt few times in my life, if ever.  I didn't even notice my wounds, life-threatening as they were.  But it felt...good.

Talan and I parted ways, and I made my way eventually to Port Hampshire....for what reason, I'm still not sure.  Perhaps I wished, subconsciously, to work the materials I picked up along the way in order to put my mind on something else.  I can't say for sure, but whatever the purpose was, it never happened.

I ran into my friend Kat.  Walking slowly...a distant look in her eyes.  She did not immediately recognize me and continued walking. To be honest, the face I saw wasn't the Kat I knew.  But there must have been a glimmer of recognition, for she turned back and said my name.  We talked for a bit, about her situation...this prophecy regarding some Mother of Darkness.  I kept my hood on for the conversation, not wishing to trouble her with my own affliction, but she guessed it on her own...probably because this accursed spider mark itches greatly.

We spoke more of her and Lalaith, both of whom are being called "queen" by this drow.  Kat mentioned that Lalaith had been given an emblem by the drow....two entwined snakes with rubies for eyes.

* the next few paragraphs are written in a shakier hand than the others *
My heart sank....my stomach felt as though it would consume me...I felt the color drain from my face, and I felt as though I could collapse...almost as I do now, writing this.

At that moment, it all came together for me.  The dark goddess, the prophecy, the snakes...things that I helped put into motion weeks ago through the deception of the Black Wizards.  Everything I felt weeks ago as I watched the five stars rise back into the heavens was now doubled as I realized the depths of what I had helped unleash.

"It's my fault..." I remember saying...All of this, set in motion by my hand, at least in part.  Kat urged me to speak of it, but I could not.  Perhaps later.... (from the last period there is a squiggly line ending in a large, smeared ink blot)

[Dorganath]

I've had many travels here on Layonara.  Normally, I would not write about something as mundane as a mining trip.  Only this time, it was unlike any mining trip ever before.

In the first place, we never actually got around to mining.

Talan had put together a respectable group in Hlint to go mining for gold in Rilara.  I joined up because I thought the diversion from all this drow business would do me good.  We made our way to Port Hampshire and then Point Harbor, and picked up a few more people along the way.  It was a good group.  Not overly powerful, but we complimented each others' special abilities.

As we left Point Harbor, Derrick suggested we go the "fun" way...which also turned out to be the long way. I knew full well what Derrick's idea of fun would be, but I wasn't complaining.  Though it has kept me alive quite well, I do sometimes tire of taking the "safe" way.  A little challenge and danger are good for the soul, I think. Anyway, our path would take us through the Wolfwood Forest.

We crossed through the vale near the Belgaer Hills on the outskirts of Wolfswood Forest....the oen kept by those rangers there, and continued deeper into the forest itself.  We came across giants, guarding their hill.  Normally, these giants are challenging, but not if handled correctly.  This time, however, they were fierce.

And someone taught them how to use crossbows.

Several people fell, including our only healer, Yashilla.  I myself was very close to death from too many of the giants' bolts piercing my meager protections. To escape, used my power to hide myself from the sight of the giants. After I did that, I could see that fortunately Yashilla's wounds were not that severe.  Her bleeding stopped on its own and I felt she would recover.  But there stood over her a giant....critically wounded, but still alive, and strong enough to strike down Yashilla for good, if she were to rise from the ground.

I knew I had little time.  I healed myself with what few spare potions I had.  To protect Yashilla, I turned her invisible as well, so that if she revived, she would not be attacked.  Finally, I put some distance between myself and this giant, surrounded myself in magical protections, readied my sword and crossbow should I need them and called Ember to my side.  When I was prepared, I summoned the Weave and hurled bright blue balls of magical energy at the giant.  To my surprise, he did not charge me and attack.  Instead, however, he let loose with his crossbow.  Another volley of magic energy....more shots from the giant....yet another volley, and the giant fell.

Yashilla recovered and regained her footing.  The magic of the bindstones had already grabbed three of our fallen friends.  One still lay on the ground, and Yashilla still had enough strength to raise him.  Having done all we could, we fled back into the relative safety of the vale.

We awaited the return of our fellows taken by the bindstones.  And we discussed the unusual nature of these giants.  Never before had they been to strong...so ruthless...so deadly.

And....we were visited by a very strange man, but I will write of him later. *an arrow points to the next page*

Having taken heavy losses already, we decided not to continue with the mining trip, fearing more losses to those unnatural hill hounds that live in and around the cave where gold is found.  Instead, we returned to Mistone and took our vengeance upon the giants of the Silent Watch.

It wasn't until later....much later...as I sat in the hills west of Blackford Castle, watching the sea, that I remembered something from several weeks prior.

I was in Rilara, gathering cranberries and a few other assorted resources, when I came across Rhizome, a druid of considerable power and status.  I had met Rhizome a few nights prior, before the undead rose and attacked.  We chatted briefly Near the Delwin River about the outcome of his quest to find a box...something that would put an end to the red fog that had been plagueing the land for months. *in the margin...(They was successful)*

Suddenly, his elven eyes caught sight of something, and he bade me, urgently, to run.  I ran to Lake Rillon and waited for Rhizome's return.  A few moments later, he caught up with me and told me about what he saw.  "One of Milara's giants..." he said.  The very name gave me a chill.  "Stay here, and whatever you do, do NOT come to the river.  And make sure no one else does, either."  With that, he returned to investigate the giant.

I never found out what happened next. As I waited, the woodland creatures...a couple white stags and an owl...began acting very strangely...nudging me around the lake and eventually into the walls of Fort Himlad. I waited there for some time, but did not once catch sight of Rhizome nor did I hear from him again that day.  Though I have since seen Rhizome, I have not had a chance to speak with him on the matter.

The point of this story is that I now believe those giants we fought in Rilara last night were also Milara's giants. If this is true, then it makes Rilara even more dangerous than it was before.

[Dorganath]

As I mentioned earlier, as we recovered from and discussed the strength of the Giants in Wolfwood, we were visited by a very strange fellow.  He appeared out of nowhere in a flash...an older gentleman with white hair and beard...carried a large axe and looked like he knew how to use it.  And he called himself Crayson. None of these things was too peculiar (not anymore....maybe 6 months ago...).

The odd thing was he said he knew us.  Most of us, anyway.  He said we were old friends...and talked about how young we all looked.  But none of us knew him as a friend, nor had we ever met him before.  When confronted with this fact, he told us that he was sorry....and that we haven't actually met yet.

This was quite confusing to us all.  How could we be old friends with someone we had not yet met?  He seemed to know about events that have not yet happened...though I'm not sure how such a thing is possible.

He's probably some old fool, playing a joke on a group of battered adventurers in some distorted type of amusement for him.

Only....he knew our names, and I did not sense deception in his voice (though my record on that account has been lacking of late).  And he weilded great power.  I saw it when he demonstrated how he gets past giants by himself....and I....felt it, I suppose, though I'm not really sure how.

He left as he arrived, in a dazzle of light and magic.  And yet, within a couple of minutes, he reappeared, saw us and was terrified. "Who are you people?!?!?" he asked with fear in his eyes. "Please don't eat me!!!!...." With that, he ran off and disappeared.

What a strange man....

But in all, I was encouraged by his visit.  Several of our group...myself, Kat, Yashilla, Lalaith, Cole...have all been afflicted by this drow venom.  While Crayson did not speak what happens, how we solve this problem (he didn't want to "spoil the ending" as he put it), his words gave me new hope.

He spoke of things we will do...he spoke of us being "old friends"...which means....we have a future, and that is very encouraging.

[Dorganath]

Last night, there was a meeting to discuss everything we knew about the drow attacks, the venom and its ultimate purpose.  Many people were in attendance, though there were a few more I would have liked to see....people who undoubtedly have another, perhaps broader, perspective that may have been valuable.  But, no matter.  I will seek them out separately, if needed, and tell others what I learn from them.

The meeting went well.  Very orderly, despite the tension and charged emotions surrounding this whole business. There was some new information, some old.  I tried to write it all down, though my notes were rather hastily written, and I believe I'll have to recopy them for clarity.

Afterward in various locales, there were more spider attacks, and as before, they seemed to purposefully avoid certain people.  I was in Leilon, speaking with Yashilla, when two large sword spiders attacked us.  Yashilla destroyed one through the power granted her by Mist.  To give myself more time to assess the attack, I shrouded myself in magical invisibility, then ran to Yashilla to do the same.  As I reached her, the spider ran toward her, but stopped short before attacking her, then turning as if looking for something or someone (me, perhaps?). I seized the opportunity and cloaked Yashilla in invisibility as well.  The spider turned away, wandered around for a while, and eventually gave up. I observed this same behavior in Port Hampshire several days ago, and it seems directly related to the "marking" of some people.

A short time later, Kat and Lalaith came into town, speaking of another spider attack elsewhere. While we spoke, we waited for Talan to arrive, who was supposedly to follow Lalaith and Kat.  When he did not appear, Lalaith became very concerned.  Add to that, Kat and Lalaith noticed a stink in the air, though I could not, and we could not tell where it came from...or what it was, but Kat thought it was the scent of stone....burning.

Eventually, we decided to go in search of Talan, to put Lal's mind at ease.  As we searched the road between Leilon and their home in Seilwood, we checked for signs of fire...or seige.  We found nothing, though the scent grew stronger as we headed toward the East. We paused at Blackford, to make sure the castle was not in danger.  As we prepared to continue, a mighty shock shook the very ground, knocking us from our feet.  I'm not sure what made me fall more...the upheaval of the ground or the sense that the Weave itself had rippled, like the surface of a tranquil pond after casting in a large stone.

Along the road between Fort Llast and Hlint, we were passed by a group of people dressed in blue and white (Lucindites, perhaps?) walking from the east to the west.  We tried speaking to them, but they did not respond.  And odd sight, to be sure...and for some reason, it bothered me greatly.

Outside of Hlint, Rak said that Haven was under attack from the drow.  We passed through Hlint.  There were signs of a small battle, but nothing significant...and the town was practically empty, save the usual fixtured like Talon, Garent, Ronus and Vale. We continued out the east gate, down past the lake and into Haven.  Nothing, except for Kit going about her patrol.  And the smell grew more and more noticeable.  And suddenly, I had a dread feeling I knew the source of the smell.....Spellgard.

We continued south in a hurry, and encountered a large group of people at the Bay of Bagira....among them, Talan.  They confirmed to us what I had feared since Haven....

Spellgard had fallen to the drow.

As if that were not enough, the accursed drow had hanged, crucified and generally defiled what again appeared to be Lucindites (dressed the same as those we saw on the road) and left them for display as a warning to any surfacers who dared enter the city.  I held back my rage but it was difficult.  By the Mother, if those accursed drow have defiled the Temple of Lucinda there..... *large ink blot*

And as we assessed what had happened and tended to our wounded....Milara showed himself to us, then walked off toward the desert without a word.

[Dorganath]

Until today, I knew of two people who have been afflicted by this drow poison who had also been visited by a drow assassin, who insists on calling them their queen.  Until today, it was Kat and Lalaith who had the "priviledge" of such visitors.  Today, I came upon a third....Mirren.

She seemed quite confused...quite overwhelmed. Those around her were hostile toward the drow...some to their own demise, temporary as it was.  I admit, had I not known what I knew, I probably would have acted the same.  From my talks with Kat and Lalaith, I knew Mirren was the only one who could have sent the drow away.  But she wanted no part of it.  She resented being called their queen, and was resistant to commanding the drow to leave, as it would acknowledge her power over them.

I understood her resistance, but I also knew it was the only recourse.  I felt like I pushed her into something she didn't want...and I suppose in a way, I did.  I feel bad for doing that, but standing outside the Wild Surge with a drow assassin nearby was no place to explain to her the reasons.

After the drow left, we went into the inn with Lue and I told them both everything I knew from personal experience and at the recent meeting we had on this matter...the poison and the prophecy.  I hope after explaining everything that she understood my insistence, and I hope she does not think less of me for forcing her hand as I did.  Mara joined us part way through, and later Nethro came to our table.  He had been struck down by the drow assassin after Mirren sent him away.  I thought I heard the drow mention something about the price of idiocy or foolishness as he stood over Nethro's newly-poisoned body, but he was many yards off, and I cannot be sure.  At any rate, I spoke nothing of this to Nethro when he wondered why he was stricken.  His attitude was bad enough, and I had no patience for his tone this day.

Much later, I again met up with Mara, and then Quin. The three of us spoke at great length....about the poison...Mirren's visit...and what ever else I knew.  I felt somewhat uncomfortable telling Quin about what this visit may mean for Mirren....the possibility that he could lose her to this prophecy....

We spoke of many plans...may possible courses of action.  We agreed on some, though the plans with the greatest chance for success may come at the highest price, and force some people to make some very difficult choices.

I hope he also does not think ill of me for bearing such unpleasant news. *large ink blot*

And Quin mentioned there was one other who was visited....a halfling named Buppi Fallenleaf.  I wonder how long it will be until Yashilla, Brisbane and a few others will be visited.  How many more will there be?

[Dorganath]

*written in unusually bold and large letters*
A note for the future:


*written normally*
Especially in matters of raw emotion and dire circumstances, I need to be more careful in my choice of words.


*a double-line box is drawn around all text and nothing else appears on the page*
*the page is dog-eared as a place-holder.

[Dorganath]

It seems I have slipped into a role of advisor and confidante.  I am glad that my friends feel comfortable enough to tell me such things...to confide in me and trust me with such things.

I know of plans...concerns...feelings.  Truths...lies...deceptions...things kept hidden to protect others.  Things important to all....things important to only a few.  And in some cases....things that I am not to speak of with anyone else.  Things have been said to me in confidence, and there they must stay...I pray for not too much longer.

I have been asked, more than once now, to not disclose certain things to anyone else. And I have given my word...something my father told me never to break.  "Your word is your honor, son," he would say. "Your word is your bond.  For better or for worse, if you cannot keep it, do not give it." I have always spoken my mind freely and without much in the way of subtlety.  In this matter with the drow, I have given what information I know freely.  And now...I must speak of some things in nuances...or not at all...except to those who have placed their trust in me.  As if the convoluted machinations and schemes of the drow were not enough....*ink blot*

I have considered writing them down here in my journal, to help me keep them all straight...but I cannot be sure that it is secure, and cannot risk someone else reading what I have written.

I wonder what I will do if asked directly by someone else...of a subject of which I already know but have sworn to keep secret.   What if the person asking already knows the truth?  Do I answer and confirm what they have said?  Do I lie and draw them away from the truth *written above this line* (but at what cost?) ?  

Or perhaps I say nothing and hope that my face does not betray the truth.

For as long as I am able, I will keep my word.... *large ink blot*

[Dorganath]

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about where I'm from.  Perhaps recent events, and the people I've spoken to about them, have got me thinking along those lines.

I suppose it first started with wondering about where magic came from. I now know that is the Weave, and the Weave comes from Lucinda.  To wonder on it further would likely confuse me...and it is an explanation I can live with.

I've wondered many other things, but most recently, I've wondered about myself.  I recently recalled a conversation I had with Kat soon after the first drow attacks and poisonings...seems like ages ago.  We spoke of many things...of our origins...our families.  And I told her the story my father told me about the night he found me.

Since he told me that, I had always wondered many things.  How could I be half-elven when no one had seen an elf, except in stories, for untold generations (if they ever really existed at all)? Why was I spared the flame when everything else around me was burned black? Who was that charred corpse found near me?  And strangest of all, how could the corpse have simply vanished the next day?

Since I came here, I have wondered about my magic.  How could I be born of a world where there is no knowledge of the Weave or Lucinda (or any other god remotely similar), and still possess an in-born ability to use magic?  How is it that I could do accidentally as a child what it took the wizards of my world years of study and practice to accomplish?  And why do the old stories not ever mention any others like myself?

So many questions...so few answers.  But Kat mentioned something in this conversation that has recently struck me.  For whatever reason, it came to me again the other day. I was telling her about that night long ago, and about the burnt body found nearby...and how it had disappeared the next day.  

"Maybe it was a bindstone," she said.

I shook my head. "No, we did not have such things on my world."

"Neither did we," she repiled.  "But perhaps that person came from a world that did."

A world with bindstones....

A world such as this one....

Could it be?  *large ink blot from resting the pen*

Is it possible that one (or both) of my true parents still lives and can be found right here?

Is it possible that the call from the Dragon was really a call....home? *the last word was written as though the writer's hand shook badly*

[Dorganath]

What is the true plan of the drow?  Is that even the real endgame?  Lately, I have begun to suspect...strongly...that it is not...that this business with poison and prophecies is only one small part of a much bigger...and probably more sinister...plot.

But what?

While I think I was always aware that it was more than just the Drow, lately I have become more and more certain that the drow are being used...just as they are using us.

I'm writing now with my back to a wall, in a small aclove where I can observe all approaches.  I do this to avoid any snooping to what I write...to keep from allerting our enemy ( the word "enemy" has a line drawn through it and is replaced with: ) enemies of this suspicion...though surely they know that we suspect.

The drow have plans.  HE ********* has plans. The outcome of each seems to depend upon another.  This much is obvious.  What we lack is good, solid information, so that we may take advantage...turn these schemes to our benefit.
(********* is a word that has been scratched out beyond recognition)


*written later as an afterthought*


And why has it taken the Aragenites so long to respond to my request? Why will they not grant us a look at their archives, or at least allow us to meet with an archivist and learn what we can about the drow, their poison and their prophecy?  Are they in on this as well?  The collectors and sharers of knowledge suddenly quiet?

I may just need to show up at their door and escalate matters myself....that is, if I can find my way there.

[Dorganath]

First the good news.  

I have finally received word from the Aragenites regarding my request.  Time is short, and I must gather a group of people to aid me in the journey.  I hope they are willing and able to do so.  There is much to do before this journey.  Many people to speak with and much to prepare.  I have waited weeks for a response, and now I must do everything in days.

Also, I quite accidentally bore witness to the engagement of Quin and Mirren. While I don't think the timing was to Quin's liking, the result is the same.  Afterward I toasted their future together with some of Mirren's own spirits.  Quin is a lucky man; that lass can cook!

But....

Events with the drow are taking an unexpected turn.  I suppose...not entirely unexpected in part, but they concern me greatly.  The first casualty of these events is the end of Celgar and Katrien's engagement. *large ink blot*

There is more...much more...but I cannot write of it yet.  It is enough to say that my perceptions have been altered...again....and I cannot help but to be torn between feeling happy for my friends and fearing for their very souls.  The events of the next few days will undoubtedly shed some light on these things....bring some clarity.

I hope...*large ink blot*

[Dorganath]

The time of our journey has finally come.  Kat, Lalaith, Talan and I made our way to the Aragenite archive in Casterly Castle...along with an escort of two drow "patrons" as guides and protectors...the ones bound to Kat and Lalaith....*ink blot*

I was not expecting their company...though I should have realized they would come along.  This was the first time that I had seen either in such a capacity. Veldrin I had seen only briefly, and Lar...never.  I was uneasy...on edge.  I watched them with suspicion and doubt, though in deference to my friends, I tried to keep my mind open, as I promised I would...to try to see what they see in these two assassins, and how they feel about them.  I struggle to trust them. I watched them closely on our journey.  I have seen what appears to be genuine concern and affection, but also I see much darkness in them...anger and hatred. It is contained...buried, but how deeply? And for how long? And what will happen if it rises again?

And I fought the urge to demand of them to tell me which one stabbed me those many weeks ago and afflicted me with this dread venom.... *ink blot*

As it turns out, their presence was more valuable than I could have guessed...and hoped. And for this, I am grateful.

In all, the journey was a success, and while many questions were answered, many more were created.  We learned much of the "gift" that the chosen seem to possess.  We learned a little more of the Tol'eflor. And a we learned a few things gave me cause for great concern.  I'm probably over-thinking things...it seems I'm been prone to that lately...but I cannot dismiss the chilling possibilities they suggest.  Not  yet.

It is likely....a certainty...that another journey is in our futures.  Sooner than later, farther and more difficult.  Until then, the four of us need to think upon what we have learned and to share what we suspect.

[Dorganath]

I lay in the grass in the hills west of Blackford Castle, staring out at the water, letting the cool breezes and sounds of water wash over me.  An amber moon hung in the sky, it's light twinkling off the ripples in the water, mixing with the starlight on a cloudless night making the water appear as a sea of gems.  My eyes grew heavy, my blinking became slower, deeper.  Another blink, and my eyes opened with a start.  I was no longer in the hills, but where was I?  I did not recognize the place.  It was strange and unfamiliar, yet I felt comforted.  It was a meadow on a hill, surrounded by thick forests.  A few stray trees and boulders dotted the field.   Like one other dream before, the sky, the field...everything was washed in a glow of lights of every color and hue.  Strands of light flowed together, across each other, parallel to each other, woven together. I looked around. The glow flowed around everything.  No...Through everything....No, that's not right either.  The wind blew the leaves in the trees and the grass on the ground.  And as they flowed and swayed in the wind, so too did the strands of light.  A leaf blew fell from a tree, and I watched it...seeing every detail, every flit of motion as the leaf fell.  It seemed to take an eternity as I watched.  A single strand of light played about the leaf as it fell....as it touched down, strands from the ground washed over the leaf, and the single strand that was on the leaf blended with the others.  I walked around, my motion slowed, but not hindered...as if my own perceptions were faster. Strands of light swirled about me...through me...warming me with their gentle touches.  I looked down at a bright glow on the ground.  A tree sapling was pushing through the grass, and the glow was surrounding it.   The closer I looked, the more detail I saw.  What looked like a bright clow was really hundreds...thousands of miniscule threads of light, all swirling in concert in, out and around the sapling.  I stood and continued walking.  Every leaf on every tree had a faint glow.  The fruit on the trees glowed like lanterns. I reached to pick a fruit from the tree and stopped.  As my hands moved, the strands moved with me and continued their flow through me.  I watched this in fascination as I moved my hands back and forth.  A voice sounded within my head...  >  My hands continued to move, though I did not guide them.  My voice uttered sounds that I did not speak.  The glow around me intensified and flowed into me from all directions.  My hands moved in a familiar pattern as a new glow built and intensified in front of me, fed by an increasing stream of strands from all around.  My hands stopped and pushed outward against the new glow, my voice was silenced, the glow around me and in front of me intensified for a brief moment as they joined together.  Three glowing orbs, a familiar sight by now, issued forth from this glow and arced gracefully toward a boulder.  They flew slowly, as everything else in the dream, and as they flew, I watchted the strands.  The orbs were not separate things at all, but ripples in the ever-present glow.  Strands of light swirled, knotted and rolled toward their target, and all three flowed along the path of three distinct strands of light, guiding them like deep ruts in a road guide the wheels of a wagon.  They struck their target, and the glowing light surrounded the boulder and dissipated back into the strands.  I looked at my hands again.  Tendrils of light played about them, moved over them, through them.  Flowing and swirling as I moved them through the air.  Suddenly everything made sense. "This is the Weave..." I thought.  The answer came as a wisper on the strands of light themselves:  >  I took a moment and marveled in this new perception.  The Weave was everywhere.  It was a part of everything and everything was a part of it. I understood, and the realization opened up a part of my mind that I had not previously known.  >  I concentrated on the Weave, pulling it too me, watching it flow into me and gather between my hands.  I had gathered more energy than ever before, but I did not feel scared or in danger, but rather in complete control.  The enery built, swelled and flared.  I released it and pushed it from me as the Weave flowed through me.  The release sailed to that same boulder and the Weave reacted, shining briefly with the intensity of the sun.  The Weave flowed in as if pulled by some great force, then outward as the energy was released.   I watched in marvel as the Weave around the boulder faded to its prior state and the intensity of the discharge faded  slowly into its surroundings.   I felt something...a presence behind me.  I turned to look.  There behind me, the Weave had formed a shape...a figure of a...person?  It was hard to tell...the exact form was obscured by the bright glow it radiated....a nearly pure white with touches of blue at the edges.  The Weave streamed into this form...no...from this form...playing happily about it, cradling it.  The glow approached silently...moving without walking.  As it neared, I could discern a face...a woman's face, though I did not recognize it.  The face smiled and the shape glowed even brighter and I squinted to protect my eyes.  The brightness surrounded me until I could see nothing else.  It increased to a searing intensity that I could see even with my eyes closed tightly....  ....and then it was gone.  I opened my eyes and was back in the hills near Blackford, with the morning sun cresting over the water. In my ears, there echoed a word...a remnant of the dream perhaps....  >

[Dorganath]

*written on a page by itself in an unusually careful and flowing hand*
  There are two who were, but are now no more.
  There are two who are, but for how long?
  There are two who are the same, but different?
  There are two who are true, but are they?
  Two impressions of truth, Two sides to each tale.
  Two who are bonded, Two who are sundered.
  Two souls that hang in the balance, Two parts of the same whole.
  Two secrets to keep, Two questions for one answer.
  Two who trust, Two who are trusted.
  Two who have found joy, Two who have found pain.
  Two paths to walk, Two lives to lead.
  Two arms embrace, Two hands entwined.
  Two eyes that do not see, Two hearts that may never be.
  Two gifts and only one heir, Two gifts not equally shared.
  Two outcomes, Two fates.
  But in the end, there is only.....
   one

[Dorganath]

*written hurriedly, almost to the point of being illegible*
  It's possible...truly possible.  It's within our reach. Difficult, but it can be done.  For the first time in weeks, there is truly hope....
  And there is much more to learn.....
  *the last word degrades into a series of indeterminent bumps, and the ink is smeared as if the book was shut before it fully dried*

[Dorganath]

*written on a page by itself in an unusually careful and flowing hand*
  A choice...
  To stay or go To fight or flee To confront or avoid For you For me
  A choice...
  To be weak or strong To be false or true To be led or to lead For me For you
  A choice....
  Between death and life For oneself, for another Between poison and cure To let burn or to smother
  To be blind or to see In the dark or the light To persuade or coerce With guile or with might
  Through strength of heart Or weakness of will To rely on luck Or trust in skill
  A choice to reveal A choice to conceal
  To embrace and accept To discard and reject
  To love, to hate To destiny, to fate
  A link to make A chain to break
  A step to take A path to forsake
  A splash in a puddle Or a drop in the sea Who will choose And who will be...
   Chosen

[Dorganath]

They're at it again.  The Watchers were recalled, and there was a period of calm.  The Ritual has started, and as a result, the walls between this world and Shadow are breaking down.  The Council awakens.....

And now, they move again, striking fear into the hearts of the previously unconcerned.

They have threatened the very souls of a few people who were at the wrong place at the wrong time.  Their souls now hang in the balance. But with the completion of a simple task for each of them, their burdens will be lifted.

Or so they were told.

I don't believe it for a second.  

This is a trap. I feel that with every fiber of my being.   They want things...things that will help them succeed.  Unwilling or unable to get them for themselves, they prey on others...on those who did not know...who were not aware...and who don't realize what is truly at stake.  It's far more than the souls of a few people.   If these few are successful and do what is asked of them, hundreds will succumb to the Venom, and countless more will fall when our enemy turns the sky black with hatred and reclaims the surface as their own.  

Do they realize how many souls they will trade in exchange for their own?  These few must be made to understand.  That may be difficult...but it is what must be.  They have to be stopped, one way or the other.  I will not allow the enemy to gain that which will harm our efforts and ensure their victory...not while I still draw breath.

The time of wating is over.  The time for action is upon us.

And I think the time has come to talk to.....it.