Gil's Journal

[Car'l O'mek]

*you find a stack of wrinkled parchments crudely sewn toghether with spider silk.  as you look through this "book" you nitice that many of them are discarded notices and other trashed notes where others have only used one side.*

I guess this is becoming a problem.
I've laid off the drinking for now, but this is really getting annoying!
Ever since I've been reading Mom's spellbook, I've been forgetting other things.  
My head is often cloudy for days after I figure something new out and it's gotten me into trouble
a few times.
The worst part so far is that those that I travel with keep getting hurt because I don't understand all this yet.
I went to find some spider silk with a halfling lass named Rose something.
She got sick from some stink beetles and it was my fault.
Celuthys, the little fairy dragon that follows me around, came along and picked a fight with the bugs that
we probably could have avoided.  Rose got sick because of that so I'm not calling on that little twerp until
I can get him to behave better!
Of the few spells from Mom's book that I've gotten to work, they keep fizzing out.
A nice lady told me the leather armor I wear is restricting the needed gestures.
Maybe if I got rid of the armor it would work, but I don't think that will help with
a goblin sword stuck in my belly.

Things were easier when Dad and Mom were alive.  Drive the wagon, water the horses, look out for bandits and beasts,
and be quiet and read my books when I wasn't driving.

I miss them alot more than I thought I would.
I think any bandits I meet in the future better look out!  I'm running short tempered and I really need someone to take
my anger out on right now!

[Car'l O'mek]

What was I doing just then?
Something with the recipe cards the crafts man sold me, but I can't remember.
DAMNATION!!!
Why is my head all thick with cotton lately???
What is Mom's book doing to me?  Why didn't she ever teach me this stuff when I was alive?

MAybe it's the sword and the armor?  The more I try spells with this stuff the more I get all
fuzzy headed.  Maybe it's like leaving a sword near the fire too long.  Just the tip can be close but the
handle still gets hot.  Maybe the something similar is going on here?
Either that or Mom cursed her stupid spell book so I couldn't use it.
No.  She wouldn't do that.  It's not like her.

But why is my brain allways so fuzzy?

[Car'l O'mek]

My head is clearing, but I am loathe to explain why.
Maybe it was that fish I ate that made me sick last week?
Who knows.
I've laid off the ale for a bit now and it seems to help a bit.
I've also held back from casting while wearing the armor or I was in dire straights.

This next part is most embarassing but I put it here to remember it for the future.
Twice now I've been taken by attackers because I can't get this magic right.

The first time was when I was collecting some ripe elderberries. Some skunks didn't like
that so they lashed out.  I tried to cast Mom's spell for sleep, but things didn't work
out so well.  I cast it on myself.
Next thing I know, I'm at the Hlint bindstone, feeling week and smelling like skunk.
I got out of town as quickly as I could and went back to get my belongings, but I know
which way to point that one now!

The second time came just a few days ago after a hunting party I was with found a curious note.
We were in the woods near Fort Valensk and were attacked by villainous bandits.  The Elven fellow Etriel
and a Halfling fellow by the name of Ulliam were with me.
I tried to cast the Magic Missile spell I've used so many time before and it didn't go as planned.
Again, it seems to have attacked me.  Actually it got loose inside this leather armor I wear and hit
when it couldn't get out.  Then the bandits caught me and that was that.
One more time I woke at that bind stone in Port Hampshire of all places and had to take a trip back to
Fort Valensk by boat, the crew giggling and pointing at me the whole way.
Etriel, a noble gentleman despite his backwards and dirty appearances helped me get back to my things that
the Bandits hadn't taken, and he helped me return to Hlint as more than a pile of Griffon Manure.

Those notes were interesting, but I think I should post them on the Inn's message board to see if anyone
knows more about them.

Until such time as I can understand more of this I wish I could find someone to teach me the
subtleties of all this magic business.  I'm getting tired of waking up next to bindstones and
I really miss a good mug of ale before I go to sleep.

[Car'l O'mek]

I've just come back from venturing to the desert.
We met up with some little bugs with a rather nasty sting.
The worst part was they didn't stop, but just coming and coming.
Many of us were gravely wounded, but we had a few with teaching in the
healing arts along who helped us and go to a place called Spellguard.

I guess Spellguard is a city dedicated to some godling called Lucinda.
Seems silly to me, to dedicate an entire city to one godling.  Seems
that the gods have started more wars and fights than anything else.
But, as father said, "know a god, know no peace."

At first I hoped it was a place for wizards and their ilk, but its just
an enclave of Lucinda worshippers.  Supposedly she is the god of spells,
but since I didn't know of her until after I started casting spells I have many
doubts about it.

The confusion comes and goes still, but it gets no worse.
I'm getting better at the spells, but my sword-arm is still better and more dependable.
Something tells me I may have to put the sword away for a little bit before I can get good enough
with the spells.  I don't know if I want to do that quite yet.

We spent most of the last few days running around like headless chickens looking for a series of curious notes.
Just when we find some concrete information I found that I couldn't continue onwards with the journey.
Whenever I would try I would become severly confused and forget where I was going.
I would end up in the craft hall making cloth or something of that nature.
It was very disturbing so I posted a note in the Inn and asked others to help out the halfling Guddwick
with his journey.

I don't know if I may be cut out for this adventuring business.
The confusion and the failing spells seem to distract from my abilities with the sword as well.
I fear I may die before I can figure any of this out.

For now, I wish I could find a few others to help with some of the things I have promised to do
around Hlint.  I have to raid a crypt for the undertaker still, I have a letter to deliver for Postmaster Vale, but everytime
I get outside Port Hampshire, the griffons attack and I am not up to an adventure through some of their innards!

There are other things, like Johan at the craft hall now wants a cougar skin.
I had enough trouble getting a damnable boar skin and now he wants a cougar skin?  What the hells?
Still, I promised him and I will try to get one.

There are some other odds and ends to finish up, but right now I think I need to find some help with some of these tasks.
I hope keeping this journal helps.

The worst part is that I keep forgetting people I have met.  I ran into Rose the other night and didn't recognize her.
She probably thinks I am crazed, but it is hard to explain.  Unless something significant happens, I don't seem to
remember many people.

BLAST and DAMNATION!  If any of the Godlings were just or merciful, they would get off their asses and help me figure this out!
Where's the precious Lucinda to explain things now?  I feel that even if I ask, I will still get no answer.
Godlings, like little children playing with the blocks of our lives.  Who needs them?

[Car'l O'mek]

Another week, another new set of scars and bumps and bruises.
Ahhh, life as an adventurer is ripe with injury, blood, and stink!

I took a letter to Thalos River that I promised to deliver but I got confused again.
I ended up in Fort Himland of all places, fighting a lion that had stalked me and nearly bleeding to death from it.
At the last second though my new friend Dragoon managed to find me and helped me clean that lion's clock but good.
I don't know why, but Celuthys, the little fairy dragon, stopped coming around when I called.  I think he was mad at me because he
kept getting so hurt when he was around me.
I tried telling him to quit picking fights with things that were too big for him, but he wouldn't listen.
The other day I tried to call him but he didn't come. I waited for hours until darkness fell and I went to sleep with no sign
of the little fella.
When I woke the next morning I found my head on the warmest and softest pillow I could ever remember.  
I thought it was strange that it was hairy, black and purring.
When I really woke up I nearly rolled into the campfire!  I was sleeping with a large black panther!
The panther didn't attack me though. It just laughed at me in the way that all cat's can do with only
it's eyes.
After I calmed down, I realized it was speaking to me, but not in words.
His name is Dragoon, he's about three years old, and when I ask why he chose to be my friend,
he only laughs in that way of his and said he was sent to watch over me "by someone close."
He won't say who and I'm not pressing the argument.  Who want's to pick a fight with a panther?

I've been checking in on the godlings as well.  They make no sense to me and they seem more like children the
more I learn about them.  The recent business with the Druids and the Balors show that they either don't care
what happens to us, or they are really powerless to stop anything.

Why would a godling have enemies?  Aren't the wise and gracious godlings able to find a better way to deal
with their differences?  Why put all of us in the middle of their squabbles?  
Like children with their little toy soldiers, they seem to piddle around and piddle around until they
get bored and we suffer as consequence!

The magic and spells are coming along a little better now.  I don't try to study as hard as I was and I
haven't been drinking.  I am understanding more and more each passing day, but the spells still fizzle from
time to time.  Good thing I didn't trade in that sword for a staff!

Well, after I was stuck in Fort Himland, who should show up but Guddwick Muggins!  He came to talk to a farmer about a
lost prize cow and then helped me get my letter delivered and back to the point.  We were attacked by another lion and a
cougar this time, but we managed to fight them off.

Well, I am going to turn in for now.  Guddwick gave me a helmet that is nice, but it gives me a headache as I'm not used to
wearing it yet.  Guddwick is a true friend for helping me, and if I did pray to the godlings, I'd ask that they watch over
him and keep him safe.  He sure deserves it after helping a poor confused half-wit like me so much!

[Car'l O'mek]

The headaches weren't from the helmet I fear.
Neither are they or the confusion from the spells.
I've beent trying life without one or the other these past few weeks and the
results are troubling.
The confusion comes on less than before, but still it lingers. It seems ready to strike again at
any time or place.
This last time it took me as I helped out in the Mines of Haven.  I emerged from a lower level and found myself in the midst of five Ogres.
They were less than happy to see me.
The next thing I knew, I was standing by an underground lake and my friend Guddwick was asking if I was alright.
I was unharmed but I have no idea how I got there.  I guess I out ran them all and my party attacked them.
As soon as we exited the cave the sunlight was like a knife in my skull.  The headache began and was the worst I've ever had yet.
I found a nice quiet spot outside of town and lay down to let the ache pass in its own time.  I even went to see the healer at the
temple in Hlint, but she could find nothing wrong with me.
After some time Dragoon came and lay by my side, his purring making my brains rumble and he seemed to sense this and stopped.
It passed after a couple of days, but I feel weaker from it.
What is wrong with me?

I've decided there are two ways to go about this.
First, I can lay about by the campfire and moan like a wounded animal.
The other way is to just go about my life as best I can until I find that
these headaches and confusion no longer come, or that I am dead.

I think even though I traveled much as a youth with my parents, I really was a sheltered child.
I talked with others about thier godlings the other day and found no solace in their words.
Instead my ears noted how one group despised and degraded another.
Why?
To what benefit do they seek to weaken the servants of one godling?  
Does it lift their own godling to push the follower of others down?
It seems that the more I learn of all these godlings, that none have the right and true of anything.
One does this, another that, yet another opposes the first.  
Is there no wisdom in any of these eternal children?
Are they all ignorant of a basic moral need to behave themselves?
From what I can see, they are in sore need of a parent and a good quick switch!
Even their petty childishness leaks into their followers words and deeds.

It seems that any one point of wisdom or intelligence of each godling is mitigated by their own
foolishness.  Where are those that hold these godlings accountable for their stupidity?
Where are the wise old ones that follow no single foolish godling but the wisdom of all?
Are there none in this world willing to stand up to the soul mother to ask her to strap her children?
Bah!  There is more to life than these simpletons.  Why hate that you can't understand?
Why have enemies when you are a godling?  What foolish stupid children are they?
I will follow none until one of them stops this ignorant game of theirs.
The godling that takes notice of me will win my loyalty.  
Before now, I got along fine without them.
Let the godlings go play with their toys again.  
Gil O'mek may have to play along, but my respect is still something they
shall have to earn!

[Car'l O'mek]

*the scrawl on this page is barely ledgible and there are smears in the ink as if someone dragged their arm over it before it dried*

Today I asked Kelion if it would be possible to craft a ring of blindness.
An amulet would work just as well, I guess.
I dont' want a ring to cause blindness in others... only in myself.

The lights hurt my head most of all lately.  Sun light is the worst.
It's not as if I see any better in the dark, but if I could cut out the light, then that
may be a blessing at times.

Where ever I camp, I must look like a fool during the day.  I stumble around with my eyes
closed because every beam of sunlight hurts.  I can't even read much anymore in Mom's spell book
before it starts to hurt again.

Dragoon has been patient and kind with me, and I believe it now that he was sent to watch over me.

I got confused again, and the results were not good.

I was out looking for some honey west of town when I blacked out.  Dragoon was there and acting grumpy, but I wanted some
honey to go with the weak tea I drink anymore.

Next thing I know I'm up to my armpits in kobolds, Dragoon is hurt and I'm  worse.
I smacked those little lizard dogs for all I was worth and got us out of there before they could kill us.
The part I'm wondering is what in the hells I was doing there?
I've passed that particular batch by a dozen times over the past few months, they never trouble you unless you venture too
close to their camp.  
I guess I got half-witted again and got too close for comfort there.  
At least there are fewer little yipping beasts to bother others for awhile.

Dragoon dragged me back to Hlint and made me rest.
The cloth I'd made that day got all soaked when I had to use it to hold us both together.
I burned it and Dragoon spent the entire time grumbling and chewing on my boots to show his displeasure.

I tried explaining it to that big cat, but he either doesn't want to understand me, or doesn't care.
I don't much blame him though.  Everytime he's around I seem to get into trouble.

At least I don't get him killed like others I know.

There's a foolish mage by the name of Justin that nearly got a party of us killed in the
Haven mines the other night.
Things were fine as we snuck through a large chamber with a bunch of ogres on the other side.
No one made a sound as we crept quietly through the darkness.
Then Justin called that big panther he calls "kitty" and that's when everything went
wrong.
Kitty evidently doesn't like Ogres.  I don't much care for them myself but that damned cat took off, roaring and attacking.
After that we were lucky to get out of that room alive and we were all pretty sore at Justin.
Poor Kitty didn't make it though.
I know the boy means well, but that foolish mistake took nearly 7 bottles of healing potions to keep me and others alive.

Well. It's off to sleep now.  The sun is nearly all the way up and I need to be sleeping if this day is to bearable.

[Car'l O'mek]

*The sript on this page is neater than the last but obviously written in haste and punctuated with strong feeling*
*There are several holes where periods and other letters have torn the quill's nib through the parchment entirely.*

Yet more proof that the godlings foster idiots to their service.
A note in the Inn calls for the trial of the poor souls who ventured into the crypts.
There they discovered a dragon, the dragon started a plague in Hurm and now someone more half-witted than I am is calling for their trial!
Worse yet, this moron calls for a trial by the church, where the only justice is doled out by the godlings that allow such suffering with no benefit.
I'd be a more religious man, but that would probalbly require an Orc's axe stuck in my head!

I met an amazing soul a few nights ago by the name of Ozymandias Lleyllen.  I'm not sure of the spelling but that's close enough for now.
He told us the tale of Bloodstone's last battle that darkened the skies, all while coughing up blood.
The coughing comes from a curse which he told us about, but I fear the tale he told was a bit too long in the telling.
By the end of it, he discussed the nature of this curse with us quite freely.
Unfortunately, the riddle of his affliction and the length of his tale did me no good.
I felt the confusion starting just as I neared an answer.
It nipped at the tip of my tongue for some time then and his patience with me was extrodinary.
But in the end it eluded me until after he left.

After that I went to the small pond to sit and think of his problems and to fight off yet another
skull-splitter.
There I fought with the problem and managed to make sense of what eluded me until then.
Unfortunately it was too late and the man they call Ozy was gone.  I couldn't find him.
In my haste to record the idea I rushes to the craft halls and bought some parchments, a quill and some ink.

I botched the first note but the embers of that blazing epiphany still lingered upon the page.
Carefully I deciphered what I scribbled on the first to the second, and just in time it seems.
As I feared, what I wrote meant little to me a few minutes later.  The confusion on me once again and my head
splitting so as to make it hard to walk.

I gave the note to Guddwick, lest I lost it in one of these bouts of half-witted dazing.
Guddwick agreed to give it to the man should he see him again before I do.
I just hope I can remember the next time I see him as well.
With my luck of late he and I will meet just as I forget to wipe the drool from my chin.
I'm sure the impression I left last night will hamper that as well.

Well, It is a good day for my head and me so I am off to get some things done.
I managed to make a cloak the other day, which came in handy with the snow we've gotten, but
I need to make some new pants as these are getting a bit too baggy for me since I gave up the ale.

[Car'l O'mek]

Two things to remember...
First, look out for skunks before digging for clay.  
Second, put the sword away before casting Invisiblity on yourself.

I was digging clay to practice making some molds earlier.  A skunk wandered by and didn't like me, so it sprayed it's awful scent all over my clothes.
I was so suprised I broke my shovel over the poor thing's head.

I finally managed to make a few advances in the study of Mom's spell book.  First I figured out her invisibility spell, but I didn't see any warnings.
The first time I cast it, I nearly tripped and stabbed myself with my sword!
Damnation I am a right half-wit at times!

Guddwick and I found a crypt filled with all sorts of nasty things on the way to the Grey peak mountains, but we decided to return later and scout it out with some more folks.
We also found more than a few Ogres up in those hills and they are nasty things to say the least.  We thought of getting a party to return there, but I felt another skull splitter coming on with the morning sun and had to retreat to the dark of the forests outside of town.

I've tried sleeping in the Inn, but the drunken half-orcs there are too loud and constantly yelling.
Dragoon seems satidfied to watch over me in the little place where I've found to sleep and I am grateful to him for that.

As far as the spells are concerned, it seems understanding one is the key to figuring out the others in Mom's book.
She has one she calls Continual Flame that will make the need to carry a torch useless.  If I can find some fire opal dust I shall make my
shield glow, or my helmet.
Better to use it on the helmet, I can cover that with the new hood I've made if we are sneaking about sometime.

Guddwick still proves to be a good and honorable, if not charitable, man.  We've met a young lass in town, and helped her to complete a few errands others have
asked her to perform.  Azhaira, I think her name is, but I still find the confusion robs me of my memory at the worst times.
Despite that, she seems a bright and eager student of everything.  I hope the bitterness of the wilderness and beasts around Hlint don't drag that out of her.

As for myself, I have met two individuals that seem right and honorable men.  Thorgist is a dwarf who follows a godling called Vorax.  Evidently they have a grudge against another godling called Corath or something like that.

The other had the first name of Praylor, I forgot his last name it seems - and he follows Toran.  He seems an upright and honorable fellow despite the affinity for the godling.

The final thing I think I should put here to remember today is simply something I've never known about myself.
I HATE CRYPTS!!!  They stick, they are damp, they are dark, and they are often filled with dead things that do NOT STAY STILL!
Egad!  How it makes my skin crawl to see those skeletons and zombies and ghouls to shamble around and attack anything that moves!
They ever wander around with gold and other trinkets, like they are playing at being alive again!  What use has a skeleton for a gold piece?
It is not as if it's going to go buy a new sword or something is it?

Enough of that for now though. Writing this helps with the skull-splitters, but I must sleep.  Dragoon is growling at me and one thing I know even now
is that I don't want to anger a panther!

[Car'l O'mek]

*the following is written in a shaky hand*

I believe I caught something in those crypts.
Bah! I hate those places! The un-dead are worse yet. Why can't they just Lie Still?!?

The aches in my head aren't letting up.  They've gotten worse.
I've found a small cave that Dragoon led me to. He watches over me while I sleep or am confused.
I really am starting to believe someone sent him to watch over me, but the fuzzy twit won't let me know who!
I feel safe writing that here. Dragoon can't read!

I met the strangest, ugliest little dwarf the other day.
Calls himself Borgnar Ernstine, and he follows the ways of a Ranger of all things?
He's none too polite either. Dragoon and he almost killed each other when he tripped over that big panther.
Next thing I know, they're playing like kittens, bleeding all the while, without a care in the world.
He may be rude but I can tell his heart is in there. I got another Skull-splitter and he stuck around to
keep me company.  He didn't even wander off when I got relly confused.

He says I asked him to collect any Gum arabic he sees. He's gotten quite a bit of it already.
Wish I knew what I wanted it for...
I'll have to ask him to tell me the next time I'm out of my head.

[Car'l O'mek]

It's been a few days now and Borgnar seems content to stick around.
Seems he's fairly new to the surface, him just leaving home to find a life, and perhaps a wife that won't be repelled by the scars.

He's dreadful shy with the ladies I think.  A stranger stumbled on us and managed to flirt with him a little.
He got as red as a beet as far as I can tell.  THose scars of his make it hard to tell sometimes.

I understand what I wanted the gum arabic for now.  Mom's spell book is like a cook-book of sorts.
Add a pinch of this,a wave of the hands, say the right words and Blam! you have a spell!
If I can just get the ingredient's right, I think I may have a way to cure these skull-splitters.
They don't hurt if I'm invisible.

Of course, the more I'm invisible, the more I get confused.
I wonder why that is?

Borgnar really is something. Harsh as a scrub brush until you get past all the ugliness.
I've explained to him that he might try being nicer to the people he meets after he recalled his tale of meeting Guddwick.
He says he's trying, and it seems to work, but I can tell he's still wary.

He did say that others don't seem to notice the scars as much, or they don't seem to matter as they did back in his home.
He is liking the life of an adventurer though. I can tell that.  He's learning quickly too.  The other day he showed up
with a Dire Wolf he calls "Zuggy" and to my surprise Zuggy and Dragoon got along famously.
I sure hope Zuggy isn't female.  I shudder to think of the litter they would produce.

Well, I'm off to study.  If I can modify mom's spell just enough, I think I can cure those blasted skull-splitters and avoid the confusion.

[Car'l O'mek]

*You stare and stare at this page but it looks like gibberish*
*It is until you realize it's written backwards, and starts at the bottom of the page*
*When you finally make sense of it, it reads:*
Too Much!  I used too much!
Who would have guessed I'm allergic to that stuff?
It's too late now though!
DAMNATION!!!
Nothing is right now!
It's all upside down!
Dragoon knows!  Oh, he knews, but did the mangy puss tell me? NO!  Not in time!
Borgnar has returned several times but he doesn't see me.
I thought that ugly little backwards cave-lover would rob me blind but he seems honest enough.
We'll see though.  Just give it time...

[Car'l O'mek]

*More backwards text in the same manner as before, but the hand is written more steadily now*

I was wrong about the dwarf.
He didn't rob me and Dragoon says he's alright, so I'll trust the mangy cat.
Dragoon hasn't been around much.
I can't blame him. My moods are none too great lately.
I got it all wrong! I added too much of the gum and at the last second relized I had my armor on!
It's been a few weeks and I'm not sure I'm still in my right mind.
I can't go back to town like this.  What's the point?

[Car'l O'mek]

*more backwards but a nice flowing script*

Too much to learn too late.
I can't reverse it now. It should have worn off.
I'd go talk to Ozyandias if I could find him, but now I can't.
Even Dragoon has trouble with hearing me lately.

It seems the spell I cast isn't over yet.
It is just very very very slow.

I know I shouldn't have rubbed that gum arabic all over myself!
I really am a half-wit!

[Car'l O'mek]

*backwards text*
Ah!  This spell is really something.
I can't even see my hands.
Or my feet.
Or anything else.
I'm not blind, I just can't see myself.
The skull-splitters are gone.
Why does it feel like I've forgotten something?

I'll come back later. I'm hungry now.

[Car'l O'mek]

*written in a shaky script but in the correct manner, you can't help but notice some of the letters are backwards.*

borgnaR.  i am finE.
giL.