The PRIVATE and HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL Journals of Lepus Pox Esq.

[Mandrake Shilling]

The PRIVATE and HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL Journals of Lepus Pox Esq., HUMBLE SCION of Port Hampshire, and more lately of LEILON and OTHER PLACES OF INTEREST


[extract …] ‘Well then. CONCEITED as it may be, I feel that there may be some value in recording my thoughts for posterity - POSTERITY being likely rather closer than I should wish: my FEEBLE frame shall not support me much longer, of that I am sure.’

‘Of the dream, and my arrival in Hlint, I shall say nothing; the experience, though remarkable to me, seems so commonplace as to be unworthy of  exposition. Instead, I shall address myself to the deeply PERSONAL REALM of INNER TRANSFORMATION, and MY OWN EXTRAORDINARY JOURNEY THROUGH LIFE.’

…

[Mandrake Shilling]

‘… introduced me to Derrick at the Leilon arms, for whom I have been running some small errands, (note to self: DERRICK is CLEARLY IMPORTANT, KISS HIS BOOTS OFTEN). Anyway, I understand that they are planning to wed. To me this seems strange - elven women are beautiful, yes, but their beauty is surely one to be admired from afar, not to be … indulged in… still, perhaps I am not well placed to comment: as far as I know, no coin has changed hands, and so it is really outside my area of expertise …’

…

[Mandrake Shilling]

‘As many esteemed readers, scryers and TELEPATHS will already know, I am a wretch of unspeakable ill-health, and a CRETINOUS LIABILITY in any skirmish. I never thought I had it in me be a cold blooded-killer (well, actually, I never thought I should be a warm-blooded killer - away from the heat of battle I am less lickerish) but to the great astonishment of whatever DEMENTED GODS that FASHIONed me, I have at last opened my account; I slew a goblin warrior from afar as he was engaged in FIERCE HAND-TO-HAND combat with an ally of mine …’

…

[Mandrake Shilling]

‘ … appears that there are SOME who PREFER the company of BEASTS … though this is certainly no cause for censure. Indeed I have had FLEAS MANY TIMES myself: one must simply learn to ignore the distraction, it is really quite the OBJECT LESSON in concentration &c….’

…

[Mandrake Shilling]

‘… in the SCAMP’S MUG. He has some story about LIVING WITH DWARVES ON ANOTHER PLANE or somesuch, I did not entirely understand … discussed rumours of a magical blade - this also strikes me as fanciful, but, ONTOLOGICAL SPECULATION ASIDE, he seems of sound mind, and has offered to teach me something of the art of swordsmanship at some unspecified later date, and so it may be politic to CULTIVATE HIS PATRONAGE  …’

…

[Mandrake Shilling]

'...wise to enclose a RECORD of this PRIVATE CORRESPONDENCE herein for SAFEKEEPING.'

*On Pyyran’s next visit to the Scamp’s Mug, the bartender hands him a crumpled note:*

‘To: The INESTIMABLE MR PYYRAN, Friend of SURFACE DWARVES, Aspirant SWORDSMAN, and Habitué of THE SCAMP’S MUG, Port Hampshire

Regarding the RECOVERY OF AN ARTIFACT

Sir - I REGRET that I was unable to continue our discussion earlier this week; I was in fact already about to retire for the night when you entered the tavern, but it is always encouraging to meet fellow adventurers who are not solely obsessed with honing their WARCRAFT, and wish to swap STORIES for a while.

Well, anyway - to the meat of this communication:

During our converation, you spoke of a SORCEROUS BLADE. I confess that privately I was a little sceptical at first - in troubled times such rumours of common. However, I find that it is somehow difficult to shake the thing from my thoughts; perhaps, as you intimated, this artifact is somehow connected to the war effort, to my purpose here, and to yours.

And so I propose that when we are able to free ourselves from other ADVENTUROUS DUTIES here on Mistone, and of course from the mundane requirements of daily life, we should form an alliance with the ultimate end of recovering the blade. Of course, I well understand that this would be no easy task, and I suggest that we should plan carefully before HURLING OURSELVES AT THE ZAINGE RIVER, and proceed cautiously, in the following (provisional) initial stages:

I. A meeting in the Scamp to discuss the matter further in pleasant surroundings, with proper refreshment. Tactics, possible obstacles, potential allies and so on should be considered, and we should perhaps make some discreet enquiries amongst the bards and sages of Mistone.

II. A short and relatively safe training mission - against the beasts outside Port Hampshire gates, for instance, or somewhere even less dangerous - in order to establish best practice with regard to confrontation: an exercise in luring opponents into snares, striking from shadows and so on; we should learn to co-ordinate our attacks before lurching into a head-on assault like so many of the warriors I have travelled with so far. I would always prefer to spend longer planning a battle than actually fighting it … [// of course, in pnp this always used to be the case … I am aware that with traps & tactical battles etc. it’s important not to overdo it or interpret “tactics” as “exploits”, but it would be nice to use those highly undervalued rogue skills]

III. A discreet scouting mission into the Zainge River area, first setting up a base camp in some safe corner. We should alternate “point” duties so as to apportion danger equally. It is my opinion that we should remain unseen, if possible; I have heard that there are ogres in the region, but they are as good as blind most of the time … should force prove necessary, we can fall back on the set routines we have already practiced. If you think it would be wise to recruit aid, I recommend that anyone accompanying us should be capable either of camouflage or at the very least of hanging back and following a battle-plan. We should thoroughly investigate the area, then retreat to discuss our findings and plan the next stage.

If you are interested in such a CAUTIOUS VENTURE, and you sense that it is possible to reach me on Mistone, send a messenger and we can meet at the Scamp to talk it over. The plan outlined above is by no means inflexible - I am sure a gentleman like yourself has many ideas of his own about how to proceed; it is merely an indication of my own preferences. As for the sword: well, I am tempted to say that it would be fitting to draw lots for it, but as the senior partner, you are probably entitled to the weapon - if we find it, that is … For the moment I am happy with a shorter blade.

I wish you good luck,

Your servant &c.,

Lepus Pox

*When Lepus comes again to the Scamp's Mug, Salles calls out to him, telling him that his friend had left him a message in return. The stiff sheet of linen paper, folded neatly into thirds, bears an angular, even Common script spelling out the name "Lepus Pox" in a bluish-black ink. When unfolded, the brief letter reads:*

To the ever-cordial Lepus Pox:

It is good to hear from you, friend, and I must also offer my apologies for not having been around so much, of late. There has been reasonably urgent business I've had to attend to regarding the fate of Club Llast, which I have found myself the unlikely proprieter of, however temporarily. I will discuss it with you, if you wish, when we next meet; I have left word with the bartender of when I am likely to be in Hampshire, which he will relay to you only if you ask specifically, 'When does the Adventurer come to hail the Irrepressible Scamp?'

As to your other items, I find myself in full agreement, with the exception of to whom should go the blade if and when we recover it; I will discuss this with you when we speak. I know of others who would likely join us in our endeavor, or at least provide some aid, and I encourage you to travel to Hlint, if you can safely, and establish yourself among the adventurers there; you will find there are many who would be willing to offer you lessons in bladework, among other things.

Until then, however, I must apologize for my brevity and bid you good day. There are many things which beg my attention today.

Luck be upon you.
~ Pyyran Rahth, Adventurer"

...

[Mandrake Shilling]

[Exit journal. Lepus Pox has been shooting his mouth off down at the Scamp’s Mug, and to anyone who will listen in the card room at The Wild Surge:]

‘… attack on Fort Hope. It was quite terrifying! Giant ogrillions … thousands of them … well, hundreds …um, tens, at least, anyway … what? No, they were no larger than ordinary ogrillions, but ordinary ogrillions are huge - okay, well maybe not giant ogrillions … but listen, there’s more: subsequent investigation revealed that these beasts were being directed by some sort of mage - possibly an ogrillion too, I confess that I did not get close enough to inspect the creature properly before it was hacked to pieces by my magnificent companions … Yes, of course I tried to help them, what are you insinuating? Anyway, having tracked this putatively ogrillion mage to its lair and destroyed it, we discovered a quire of correspondence in an unknown hand … orders from afar, instructions pertaining to a plot against Mistone … For my own part I am quite sure that Bloodstone himself and his horde of devils will appear at any minute and devour us all …’

[Lepus pauses for a few moments, listening with increasing irritation to his foolhardy interlocutors]

‘Bring it on!? What in all the hells are you talking about? “Bring it on!” my foot! Oh, it’s alright for you, isn’t it, with your CHASTITY BELT OF SMITING and your SWORD OF ECKY THUMP … Why don’t you think of others for a change? … the weak … the poor … ME … honestly, anyone would think you had been drinking …’

[Mandrake Shilling]

[return to journal]

‘… boars, when we came across a badly injured woman in Sielwood. The priest of Aeridin was most OFFENDED at her presence and denied her succour. That amiable monster Pig TRANSPORTED her to a neaby cave where we ministered to her ourselves, but I REGRET to say that no material gratitude - or indeed any real acknowledgement - was forthcoming. FRANKLY it was really QUITE THE LIMIT; we suspect she is a  follower of CORATH - I have no particularly strong objection to what others call evil, but really, I DO NOT LIKE RUDENESS ... some small token of appreciation would surely have been appropriate … Otherwise some SMALL TASKS for Derrick, nothing spectacular … my cold is still even worse than usual, the cure may lie in DREGAR somewhere …’

…