Ni'haer Helvivirr - Journal of a Charlatan

[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-one[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I have heard of rumors regarding pirates off the coast of Katherian, and not so long ago I have heard that pirates have struck again. I met up with Melana in Mariner’s Hold and we made our way to Katherian. Arriving at our destination, a large number of individuals were already present at the docks, and as soon as we all gathered, the mercenary captain immediately briefed us regarding the situation. A ship containing large amounts of grain was taken by pirates and we were tasked to recover the stolen ship and its cargo. As always, I was surrounded by chaos and incompetence, three Toranites came along, and they called themselves the Road Wardens; a bunch of mischievous fools they were. The only capable people that came along were Phyress, Maran, Melana, Snagnor, Tabris, and Mor. It was an interesting and amusing bunch, and most of them were quite capable in combat. Amidst this pool of chaos, we needed a leader; I voted for Phyress for she looked quite capable and skilled, the Toranites thought otherwise. But in the end, Phyress won the majority of the votes and led us on our dangerous hunt.

We sailed to an island near Corsain, and as we were about to see the horizon, we were attacked by creatures from the sea that were similar to the ones that made residence in the Battlehelm Moors. They ambushed us and overwhelmed us, and we managed to slay them all but two of our companions fell, Melana and one of the Toranites. Luckily there was a cleric aboard and managed to raise them from the dead. We made our way to shore, and planned to speak with the pirates to negotiate a few terms. Instead, we faced wave after wave of hostile pirates, until we managed to tie up a straggler. He was to be taken into custody but he demanded something to be fulfilled, a duel that adheres to their laws. We allowed him to fulfill it, but as soon as we removed his binds, he ran for help. We killed him along with the others who came to his aid; we were actually lucky to have released him for he led us to the stolen sacks of grain. As dangerous as it was, Phyress did a great job on leading us, and if only the Toranites would have cooperated more, it would have went smoothly. We came back triumphant and reaped the spoils of loot and true.

Weary from my journey, I sought a reprieve in the Stormcrest Crossroads when I noticed a figure that I have seen before, I thought it was Llane, but I was wrong. I have seen her before but I was never able to speak with her. Getting her attention, we crossed paths, and exchanged a few words. Eventually she introduced herself, her name was Alantha, and as the tales most of my other companions have told me, she was a Dark Elf of such grace and power, striking awe as well as fear into the hearts of these surface-dwellers. I thought she was benevolent so I revealed myself to her, and as I did, she did not show the emotions that I had expected. The sunlight grew dim and the shadows of the trees were cast upon our shadows, and creatures sprung forth from the darkness. They attacked us relentlessly, and Alantha accused me of summoning them. Coming to her senses, she believed that I was but a young sorcerer, unable to have conjured such foul creatures. We conversed, I shared my tale to her, and she shared hers. Her friend arrived while we were exchanging stories, her name was Alleina, and she was of Elven blood. Going back to our conversation, she spoke of something regarding a person who went by the name of Marcus, as well as a being that was called “Reason.” I did not know what I was thinking by unveiling myself; somehow I wanted to meet another like myself, someone who would not try to kill me and would at least offer me safety like the ones who have before. I thought that she would be able to help me, and I aspired to be like her, but unlike her, I won’t limit myself to mere greatness.

Leaving Stormcrest and settling in one of the rooms at the One Eyed Harpy, I rested myself for I planned to venture off further than I have ever before. I made my way to an unfamiliar city, and it was called West Gate, the capital of Corsain. To my surprise, Fehriel and Maran were there along with a few others, most likely stopping by from a long journey. I was intimidated by all the people and I realized that I placed myself at risk, but still, I could not help but meet other people. Emerging from the gate, a child along with her bodyguard approached us, both of which were not looking too happy. Her mother was ill with an unknown affliction, and subsequently, it manifested after she gave birth to her youngest child. They realized that it was no ordinary illness when they gazed upon their mother who had just murdered their pet canine, and so she stood before us asking for our help. Assuming that sinister forces were at work, their ordeal interested me greatly, and with it I might learn more about demonology. We gladly obliged the decrepit child, and decided that by daybreak, we were to visit their compound.

Most of the others entered the city, the others stayed at the docks and bickered; a Dwarf by the name of Argali was accusing the huge figure clad in black of murdering a servant of Rofirein, as well as his accomplice, a human who also wore black. Eventually they made their way into the city, and as soon as the guards were about to arrest the huge person, he vanished, and resulted in the guards placing the city on lockdown. They were relentless and looked for the accomplice; I was sitting quietly at the inn, when the guard asked me to remove my hood. Following Fehriel’s advice, I obliged, and unveiled myself, immediately, they wanted to escort me out of the city. Of course, I questioned them why, but that was foolish of me, when I already knew the answer. A few of the travelers scoffed at me, one even spat on the floor I was standing on, what an uncivilized brute. I was lucky that those people were followers of Rofirein, had they been Toranites, I would have been slain on sight.

Instead of boarding the next boat to Katherian, I decided to pay a visit to Prantz, and maybe locate my Deep Dwarven companions. Along the way, while I was passing by Audira, I saw the huge figure clad in black, and it had its swords at the ready, thinking I was sent to re-capture him. I was not one to judge and his situation did seem to be justifiable on his part, so I conversed with him. His name was G’ork, I have only seen him a number of times on Mistone, but I was never really able to have a conversation with him. G’ork claimed that he only killed the Rofireinite under self-defense, and that they were to be buried alive had they not acted sooner. I was sympathetic to him, always running from the law, never having a moment’s peace. He reminded me of the Goblins that protected me for he offered to silence those who would seek to kill me. I was pleased and afraid at the same time for on I made a new associate that would be of some use, regardless of the large amount of enemies I just gained. I doubt the servitors of the law will be able to capture G’ork, for he has managed to elude them up to now, what makes them think that they can in the future? I do hope I see earn his favor, most of my allies are dwindling, and I am making more enemies. [/INDENT][/SIZE][/FONT]

[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-two[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I set off to hone my skills on top of the hill near Haven, and upon crossing the Stormcrest Crossroads I saw a familiar sight, one that I have not seen in a long time. It was X, and he has been gone for quite some time now; I didn’t bother asking him why he disappeared, but rather I was just pleased to see him again. We conversed much, and I informed him of how I was faring on the surface world. He was the first human to have shown me such camaraderie, perhaps it’s because we both think alike, and come to think of it, it didn’t even bother him that I was a Dark Elf. If ever I was to rise in power, he could be my majordomo, provided that his skill will be of use to me.

X taught me a few trade skills that I may be able to use that way I won’t have to spend as much money. He taught me that chickens yield eggs, and that eggs are a valuable commodity, they’re used for alchemy or so I’ve heard. Purchasing a few fishing rods as well as a few necessities, we set off to fish, regardless of my disdain for such a minuscule task. We were about to leave when a person caught my attention, he was clad in ominous robes and sported a simple staff; X went on without me while I stayed a while and conversed with the man.

He said he was interested in me, and that he wanted to learn more about me. He was the person whom Skabot mistook me for, and his full name was Daralith Del’Mar. Fresh off of the debacle in West Gate, I was still weary and fearful of everyone around me, especially Daralith whom I saw as someone who would not hesitate to kill me for satisfaction. He kept on asking me abrasive questions about myself as if I was being tried on court, and eventually he asked me what I was, what was underneath my hood. He seemed powerful and I willingly indulged him, taking him to the docks, behind the mausoleum, I showed him my face. He was not bothered at all but rather, he was amused, and he even spoke in the Dark Elven tongue! He was another Dark Elf, and I presumed him to be as powerful as Alantha, but I might be mistaken. He was pleased and kept on asking questions about me, and with a slight show of resistance he would threaten to use “other” means of getting information. A malevolent force to be reckoned with, I played along for now and answered all his questions. In the middle of our conversation, a spider crawled from his sleeves and entered my satchel. I scoffed at him and I presumed him to be a servant of Baraeon Ca’Duz who has come to root out all the Dark Elves on the surface. As always, my rage consumed me and controlled my tongue, and I was wrong, he did not come to kill me. The spider was his servant, a means of communication between him and I, and whenever I needed help, his servant will deliver my message of need to him. Someone as powerful as him would be beneficial to my survival, but siding with him would  me forever amongst my other surface companions. This is hard, I do not know what to do, my allies are dwindling, and my enemies seek to destroy me. Where are my supposed allies anyway?

Parting ways, I decided to try my hand in trying to kill a few Goblins near Hlint. Approaching the camp, I was joined by a number of people I’ve accompanied before, and together we made short work of the Goblins with efficiency and speed. We were about to leave the caverns when another party led by Azaionna joined us, and this time we were to venture down a harder cavern, the mines in Haven. We were about to leave when Fehriel’s consort, Emry, joined us; She wasn’t too fond of me, and only saw treachery with my every move, she’s not that different from the lot of them. The mines were very dangerous and the Gnoll shamans were capable of unleashing Cloudkill spells which slew a couple of our companions in one instance. We managed to kill their leader, and we were on our way to the surface, I was saving my spells and I only casted support spells on my companions as well as spells that hindered enemy advance on us, but apparently, it was not enough for Emry. She kept complaining that I was not doing anything but rather I was just watching from the sidelines. It was the perfect time for her to divulge that I was a Dark Elf, and her hatred towards me fueled her even more; I was overcome by rage as well, and I threatened to kill her. She was empowered within the mines because she had the approval of most of the people who accompanied us as well as the protection of Fehriel, and by revealing me, she has damned me.

I was alone and insecure within the presence of those people, people I healed, people I enchanted with my spells, people I fought with, people I protected, and she shattered my image in front of them. Fehriel defends her with unrelenting vigilance; he defends me from people that judge me by my looks, and yet he lets her scoff at me and slander me in front of everyone, how hypocritical. He eventually scoffed at both of us for bickering, and it did not matter for she still has the favor of the majority. If she gets in my way again, I shall show her what real magic is and without any remorse. A flurry of thoughts and emotions overwhelmed me, fear and hatred for the most, and I fled the mines under the Invisibility spell and left before experiencing further persecution and harm.

I stayed in Prantz for a few weeks or so, and from time to time I went to Mistone to visit the Card Emporium. While staying at Mariner’s Hold, I’ve heard rumors about automatons wreaking havoc at a small town called Lan’s Port. I decided to pay a visit to the town in hopes of learning about the automatons and maybe even improve my knowledge on golems. Melana accompanied me, and to our surprise, “Goggles” was there along with her friend who tried to knife me. Fehriel was also there, and he was a drunken mess, something must have happened between him and his consort. Melana and I were clinging on to our lives, and we concluded that so long as we help the group and keep our input to ourselves, we were safe.  From time to time we would get piercing glances from “Goggles” and we would just mind our own business and focus at the task given to us. We laid waste to the automatons and apparently, they weren’t really harmless at all, but rather they were harvesting in the fields. We found a door near the hills, and examined it with all our ability. Examining it too much, “Goggles” fell into the door and was trapped, and in an attempt to free her, the various users of the Al’Noth attempted to destroy the door with destructive spells and devices. Eventually the door didn’t last too long, and “Goggles” was spat out, she came out injured, probably because of the destructive magic; it was very amusing, Melana and I watched in amusement as “Goggles” was nearly killed by her own companions. Leaving the door alone, we found another device near it; it was a pedestal that had letters on it, most of which formed different words, bickering amongst themselves on which word to choose, they eventually came to choose one and another door was opened. We ventured inside and examined all the rooms, we fought powerful golems as well as other constructs, and we found the bodies of two people, killed by a golem called the Juggernaut. Moving onwards, we discovered another golem, this time it was capable of partial speech, and was damaged in its attempt to protect its master from the Juggernaut golems. Only two Juggernaut golems were created, one was destroyed by the golem we were speaking to, while the other was dispatched by us. We spent a long time conversing with the golem, “Goggles” was constantly trying to aggravate it by trying to elude it, and it kept us from conversing properly. Eventually, the wizard Timulty fixed the golem and we were able to move onward. We found ourselves within a small library, and we met a peculiar old man who kept on phasing in and out as if he was a ghost. As always, “Goggles” was being as rash as ever, and it kept us from having a straight conversation with the stranger. Partially, we learned more about the stranger and the realm we were in; he was a master golem craftsman, and centuries ago, he was developing a new kind of golem, the Juggernaut golem. Apparently, the Juggernaut golem became faulty and killed him as well as his apprentices. Aside from golems that were used as weapons, he also developed automatons that would tend to farming. He showed us how to deactivate the constructs, and Fehriel willingly volunteered; it was a simple task, he just had to press a rune, but as he pressed it, he was struck back, and apparently something was wrong. The stranger finally realized that he was dead, he mentioned something regarding The Source and why he still lingered on, but before he was able to say anything, he phased out completely. I left Lans Port disappointed, but at least Mel and I managed to leave safely, but with sufficient information for the time being.
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[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-three[/INDENT]

[INDENT]I took the portal from Dalanthar to the Stormcrest Crossroads, and as I was on my way to Leringard, I stumbled upon Llane. Thinking that it would be a perfect opportunity to ask her for information regarding the war in Arnax, I immediately sought her attention. I found her very peculiar for she demanded something rather odd instead of true; she demanded information in exchange for information. At first I was hesitant but eventually I deemed her harmless enough so I agreed to her demands. She began to indulge me with information, and sadly, I was disappointed, the information she gave me was insufficient and I needed something new, but still, I kept my end of the bargain.

 Apparently she already knew what I was, and as I was about to indulge her, Tod and Jaelle arrived to rest at the campfire. Jaelle was in West Gate when a number of people witnessed my dismissal from the city. Seeing her as a threat, I dragged Llane to the abandoned outpost in Dapplegreen. Inside, I indulged her with my secret – my identity as well as information about her dark cousins. I found her perplexing, her entirety in itself is an enigma; perhaps the war in Arnax has warped her from her former self, although I don’t pity her, I find her rather interesting. It’s amusing how so much of a thing can change a person, and I think more people should be exposed to the horrors of the world that way they’ll be more enlightened. She was like a mirror of myself, I had white hair and obsidian skin, she had a pale complexion and hair as dark as the abyss, I was outgoing while she was somewhat introverted. While conversing with her, she was somewhat obtrusive with her movements; she is a liability but she perplexes me so.

We parted ways and I set off to visit Moraken’s Tower to improve my craft. Upon reaching Hlint, Grovel and Nonac were at the campfire, planning another attack on the Red Light Goblins. Ayana was there as well, and we conversed for a while; Fehriel and Emry were there as well, and I avoided them. Fehriel is part of the pack, and of course, his consort was present with him. I would not risk causing any problems for the group regardless of Grovel and Nonac’s presence, so I resorted to leaving for Prantz.[/INDENT]

[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-four[/INDENT]
[INDENT]A lot has happened over the past few weeks; my perpetual battle for survival, a few raids with the pack, as well as another plea for aid that eventually led to grave robbing. The grave robbing wasn’t really a problem, and eventually, it turned out that it was all a well thought out ruse. As much as I wanted to leave the perpetrators within the hands of the undead, I washed my hands of the matter and left before anyone else would think of questioning me. It was such a waste, and I would have been able to witness something interesting; I’ve always wondered how the undead would have dealt with infidels in their “court”.

I’ve met a multitude of surface dwellers on my journey to hone my sorcery, and among them was Llane, an Elf who’s captivated my interest thus far. She exudes a very mysterious aura and acts somewhat like a Human, and with that she has a calm disposition; but I suspect that there is more to this woman and that I have only seen a partial glimpse of her persona. A few weeks ago she did something to me, something that most surface dwellers do during mating rituals. She placed her lips on mine as if to show emotion, I knew neither what to do nor how I would respond, but it disgusted me so.

I decided to linger not on the ritual but rather focus on my sorcery so I accompanied a few adventurers in silencing the new Bugbear chieftain on Bear Island. The wench was there and so was her new mate, but she left as soon as she heard my name so things went by rather smoothly. It’s funny how she claims that I can never work in a team for being what I am, and yet she starts all the trouble. We silenced the chieftain as efficiently as we can, and with haste, we made our way to Mariner’s Hold to avoid the Bugbear swarms. It must have been my fourth time to have delivered to Guard Ashley, and I was quite proud of myself, regardless of this achievement, I was still expecting the worse from these simpletons. We were about to leave for Fort Vehl when Guard Ashley detained us to be inspected, apparently someone reported that a Dark Elf was near the vicinity. Mariner’s Hold did not tolerate Dark Elves regardless of the laws, and the guards would kill them on sight just to appease the people. We stalled them off for as long as we could, and of course, Melana defended me vigorously as always. All of my companions have been cleared save for me, and so the guards attempted to use force; I tried to reason with them but they were too bullheaded. I was about to deceive them with a lie when all of a sudden, we were all engulfed by darkness; as much as I wanted to play coy with the guards, the Tieflings acted too soon. I took the initiative and fled for the portal in the Weary Traveler Inn under an Invisibility spell. Yet again, someone has plotted my ruin, and I know who it is; soon I shall silence her once and for all, such a constant annoyance. I was teleported to Fort Wayfare and I sought for help in Fort Vehl, luckily Brian was there and I told him everything that occurred. He immediately rushed for Mariner’s Hold while I stayed behind, worried and enraged. After a few hours, he came back, and with him were Grovel and Milo, a Halfling druid. Brian came back with dreadful news of Melana’s capture; she was detained for assisting a Dark Elf.

I was consumed by rage because of the turn of events, I wanted to raze Mariner’s Hold to the ground and see the guards die one by one. For quite some time now I’ve used the law to gain a foothold on things as well as avoid persecution, but in Mariner’s Hold things were different, and the guards just cast the law aside when faced with a Dark Elf. I hated them, every one of them, especially Ashley; if only I was powerful enough, I would have done something. I was weak and powerless against them, while my allies were scattered across Layonara.[/INDENT]  [/SIZE][/FONT]

[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-five[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I got too comfortable with my surroundings and with it, my enemies used it against me, I was foolish to think that I will be safe amongst travelers. I could not contain myself, scores of Kobolds, Myconids, and Goblins I’ve incinerated just to sate my anger, all of which were insufficient. Llane tried to calm me down and enlightened me with advice regarding subterfuge and deception, she reminded me of my former self, a mirror of sorts, oh how far have I fallen. Not a problem, my resolve was only strengthened and Llane has reminded me of how I used to deal with such nuisances. Soon I shall have them in a bind, a web of their own doing that will vindicate me and incarcerate them.

Eventually, Melana was released two weeks after the incident, and she explained to me in detail what happened after my escape. The guards detained her and accused her of helping a Dark Elf escape, leaving their mark on her, a long cut was left on her arm for she tried to resist them. She deceived the simpletons, claiming that she was my slave and that she was under my control, this gained her a shortened sentence, ingenious and subtle, commendable. I was infuriated and I wanted to set sail for Mariner’s Hold and set the vile wench ablaze. I shall leave her with more than a cut, but rather I shall take more than an arm from the putrid guard. Controlling my temper, I cast aside all the hate, for the time being, and lingered on more important matters; it’s fortunate that Melana was pardoned, or else I would have had to rally a few old acquaintances.

As much as it was amusing to see that Melana was already released, I have heard of something rather interesting and familiar just along Krandor. Volga and I went to Kelin’s Inn to see why there were so many people congregating. It was the same group that I accompanied in West Gate, and they were in search of a brooch made by a jeweler named Damion, I presumed it was something of magical potency that was linked with the ominous child in West Gate. Luckily, the people that scorned me back in West Gate were not present in Krandor, so no one showed spite. Apparently we were not the only ones who were looking for this jeweler, a powerful being known as Admun Kretorin stirred the town looking for Damion, and with his presence, sprung forth the undead. I was far more interested on learning about this Admun Kretorin rather than the brooch itself.

We were informed that this Damion has lost his sanity and sought refuge within a cave within the woods, and we tracked him down. The man has lost every ounce of sanity he once had; he was warped by fear, and with that, he lingered in a cavern within the cave, surrounded by ominous sigils of potent magic. Caerwyn acted too soon and he was incapacitated by the magical symbols on the ground which soon drained a substantial amount of his blood. We were surrounded by death, Fehriel was claimed by touching a skull, Jaelle tried to help Caerwyn and was subdued in the process, Malina tried to help as well and her blood was siphoned as well. The magical symbols lit up with an eerie glow as they leeched the blood from the unfortunate, as if being powered up for something devastating. Damion was overcome by fear and he ran away as the Shade of Admun Kretorin descended from the symbols. His voice shook the very foundations of the cavern and it instilled fear among my companions; it was rather amusing to see a Toranite defenseless against such a being, for once a Toranite was silent at the face of death. The Shade demanded that Damion be brought to him for questioning, I implored those who survived to see reason and do what the Shade demanded, and they were all cooperative; they did well to acknowledge a being of greater power. My companions dragged Damion from his hiding place and delivered him to the Shade. Damion divulged to Admun Kretorin all that he knew about something they called the Shard, and with his cooperation, the Shade granted him a “reprieve.” But in the blink of an eye, Damion was taken by magic, probably obliterated by the Shade. We left for the surface with the dead, Volga and I did not stay for fear of being persecuted. I grew interested in this Admun Kretorin, a being of such power that his voice commands the air and instills fear among the living. I aspire to be as powerful as him, to learn spells that could at least be of use when I am alone and defend myself with them; I remain patient and soon my sorcery shall be of reckoning.[/INDENT] [/SIZE][/FONT]

[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-six[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I have learned a lot over the past few months; about the incoming war with the Green Dragon Cult as well as past recollections of Sinthar Bloodstone and Eon’s betrayal to Katia. The Bird Lord of Katia, Plenarius Ashaley has re-emerged during these dark times and shared his knowledge to those willing to listen. Information during these dark times is crucial and will determine how I shall survive; soon I must decide whether or not I should join the war, as well as think deeply of the benefits and repercussions of each choice.

Setting aside such thoughts of chaos, I sought to put into action a more well-thought and intensive plan for my training. I realized that with a more organized itinerary, my progress will no longer regress into an idle state. Whenever it was convenient for others, I would take them with me into the Umber Hulk caverns, wherein I would experiment different spell combinations as well as tactical skirmishes. The Umber Hulks were powerless against us, and they didn’t matter as much, I had my eyes set on the Xorns which wreaked chaos and destruction with their powerful abilities. The way I saw it, the Umber Hulks were pawns, while the Xorns were their taskmasters, unleashing havoc from behind; much like how a sorcerer stays behind and unleashes magic while the fighters run ahead and give cover. With each passing week, I learned more ways on how to silence the Xorns, and soon I shall find new creatures to test my sorcery as well as my perception.

Coming back from the Umber Hulk caves, I made my way to Fort Vehl to cut and polish a few raw gems. I was walking rather slowly in the town center when I saw a figure running towards the docks. The figure was clad in robes of grey and blue and had a feminine disposition, I did not see her face, but her hair was as white as mine. My thoughts were correct, and as I assumed, she was a Dark Elf, running around without a cowl or disguise; I implored her to cover her visage so as to avoid being killed on sight by foolish surface-dwellers. Her name was Nidual Shi’un, a Dark Elf who just arrived from the Great Library in Voltrex. I was reluctant to speak with her, but I could not help it for I saw much of myself in her – a foolish Dark Elf unaware of the dangers as well as opportunities of the surface world. We did meet on common ground though, for she shares the same interest in Necromancy as I do. I would be stupid to trust such a creature but I doubt she’ll be able to do anything to me, and by the time her power develops, I shall be far more superior to her. Of course, I always opened my eyes to the opportunity of gaining another ally, but for now I shall let things unfold as they were meant to, and if she does cross me, I shall deal with her with my subtle ways.[/INDENT] [/SIZE][/FONT]

[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-seven[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Word has spread of this Green Dragon Cult landing on the swamps near Fort Vehl and Port Hempstead, it is a bit daunting to see how sluggish these invaders prepare, perhaps there is something more to this powerful army than what was presumed. Rumors speculate that this army is looking for a Bloodpool within the vicinity, and that the location of such a powerful artifact lay dormant within Storan’s Crypt. A most beneficial turn of events, I must work to gain from such recklessness, which one should I ensnare?

It is most disappointing to see how this Green Dragon Cult operates without the proper people needed to carry out very simple tasks. The spy was either ingenious or stupid when it chose the disguise – an infant feline, who would have thought it a spy? Perhaps it was too unscrupulous of a disguise to say the least, although he did manage to maintain his anonymity for quite some time, I’ll give him that. Now, he’s in captivity under the mercy of the Protector of the Al’Noth, a commendable saboteur while the ruse lasted, but now his enemy will extract every last drop of information from him. I’d kill myself if I was in his position or at least try to escape and redeem my pitiful existence, we Dark Elves are masters of disguise, and the shameful swine was discovered and subjugated with ease. I have no doubt that he shall face a fate far worse once his soul leaves this world.

With the hasty extraction of information, it was apparent that a small congregation of powerful necromancers dwells underneath the backwater town of Folly of Frolic. These necromancers of Corath were different though, unlike ordinary wielders of the Al’Noth that specialize in twisting the very ethics of life and death, these beings have embraced death and are thus called “Pale Masters”. These beings walk between the threshold of life and death, as grotesque as they may be, these harbingers of death seem powerful. They have bottled up underneath an old windmill and it is somewhat surprising since we bypassed this old windmill before regardless of our suspicions regarding it. It was safe to assume that there was a connection to the mirror, and to confirm it, I would only need to take their amulets. Pity that by the time we reached the area, nothing close to a Corathite Pale Master was present for only their rotting legions were present. We eventually reached some sanctum and discerned that the Pale Masters fled or died, sufficient information was there, and I kept the information of their whereabouts to myself – the Haven mines.

All the pieces of the puzzle have been secured, and the mirror need only be activated. Finally, I was ecstatic to be able to unravel what lies beyond the mirror as well as the multitude of mysteries surrounding the blasted town. With all the amulets in place, the mirror was activated, and thus a pocket dimension was opened. Much to my dismay, the dimension was derelict and disgusting – a little hovel full of Myconids, trees, and overgrowth. The fat pie meister was there, only that he was no longer himself, warped and twisted, a thin visage was what remained of him. Disgusted and in dismay, we all left quickly for the dimension was slowly crumbling away. I had hoped to grab one of the amulets and hopefully sell them, but Leisa would not permit it. All that time and effort wasted into retrieving some Human who bakes these pies, another disappointment yet again. [/INDENT][/SIZE][/FONT]

[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-eight

Anira Malaailmstiram’la Vieymlilc

A'stamtyanla anilgoal omeli anira vieymlilc:

Anirela stmalaanilc acywala lia lae, E’ela ilcmailwa ylaaw yty lailmca ilcc eo lia lacilelala, tyamiriltyla il oaky liema omeli anira laymoilsta kyecc layooesta. Il Iryliill em il Wkyilmo laireycw fa ilfca ane alwyma anira a'tyamelialanla; tyamiriltyla il Aneaocelv anilelanaw kyeanir fceew omeli Anira Tyeanla eo Alwcalala Laanmeoa kyecc cillaan celvam anirill aniralaa calalaam milstala. E liylaan laalw il milewelv tyilmana ane anira laymoilsta laeel, lia analaan layfviastanla ilma lacekyca wkyelwcelv illw lia laireman-anamli illalaesteilanala ilma vmekyelv elityilanealan.

E eelamceegoaw laeliaanirelv, aailmla E’ela latyalan a'tyamelialanelv kyeanir anirela stmalaanilc illw E’ela aaan ane etyal lia lielw ane eaniram ewailla. Lae liystir tymasteeyla valila illw ema celaan ane laystir il oeleana ewail, aniralaa oeecla irilela le ewail eo anira tyelalaefeceaneala iracw kyeanirel laystir il laliilcc anirelv. Fa stirilllacelv anira stmalaanilc ane il kyailtyel, E illi caoan kyeanir il liama oeviranam kyeanir viylaan illeaniram tyekyamoyc kyailtyel. Kyira laireycw E kyillaana ean elca ane anmilllaoemli ean elane il laelityca kyailtyel kyiral ean ilcmailwa ela il kyailtyel eo liillala walaanmystaneel el eanlaaco? Kyira fa stelanalanaw kyeanir viylaan ela kyiral E still cila kyillaana ane steylancalala? E liylaan wacela el anirela oymaniram illa E vilaniram liema malaeymstala.

Ilcilla, lia valeyla illaaneylwla lia lae, illw kyeanir ean E’ela liilwa aaan illeaniram tymeoeylw fmailgoanirmeyvir kyeanir anirela stmalaanilc, illa kyacc illa laastymaw lia tycilsta kyeanirel Anirilmcilstgo Liilvanirama. Aniraa kyama oeecelair aleyvir ane stirilccalva lia, illw ela fa ela aniraa ilcc oacc illa aniraa ailstir anmeaw ane stirilccalva lia oem stelanmec eelam anira stmalaanilc. Ailstir kyeaniramaw ilkyila illa anira stmalaanilc lailtytyaw anira ceoa omeli aniraem omilveca feweala.

Ean’la illiylaelv ireky tyekyamoyc laystir il laliilcc anirelv ela, illw kyeanir ean E stellaecewilanaw lia tyekyam eelam anira Anirilmcilstgo Liilvanirama. Laeel anira Anilcanirilmil lairilcc feky wekyl ane lia aelama kyireli, calaan E ylcaillair lia laky kyailtyel el Emcelaan Emfell. E irilela aaan ane elstmaillaa eanla anilmvaanelv liilanme', fyan E oaac anirilan anirmeyvir eaniram liaillla E still kyewal eanla oestyla ilmail illw ylaa ean ane fmelv anira steana ane eanla golaala. Elsta E mailstir laystir il tyeelan, anirilan oeecelair Iryliill lieviran cailml ane goleky irela tycilsta el anirela kymaanstiraw kyemcw, illw elsta ira ela eyan eo anira tyestanyma, E lairilcc mailstir anmya eliliemanilceana, omaa omeli tyilel illw liemanilc irilmli; E lairilcc fastelia il vew! Anira laanilmla kyecc ilcevl illw Anira Waaty lairilcc anmalifca oem E lairilcc illastalw ane anira irailelalla, il Wilmgo Acelal tyilanmel oilm liema tyekyamoyc anirill Anira Caoan Irillw eo Fcilstgo!

Anira oeec vmekyla elityilanealan illa kyacc oem ira goaatyla laalwelv irela aleleala ane eelamlaaa lia tymevmalala, illw ean ela favellelv ane fa lielaan illleaelv. Emelest ireky ira ela il laireman-ceelaw Iryliill kyeanir anira cy'yma eo anelia el irela laewa, fastilylaa eo anirilan lairilmw, ira irilla mailstiraw eliliemanilceana. E liylaan anilgoa anira lairilmw oem lialaaco oem ira ela ylkyemanira eo eanla tyekyam! E lairilcc irilela ela ane fa oillaireelaw illa lia kyailtyel illw ela ane laastyma lia illastallaeel elane tyekyam.

The Researcher’s Journal

Excerpts taken from the journal:

This crystal eludes me so, I’ve already used up nearly all of my slaves, perhaps a few more from the surface will suffice. A Human or a Dwarf should be able to endure the experiments; perhaps a Tiefling tainted with blood from The Pits of Endless Strife will last longer than these lesser races. I must send a raiding party to the surface soon, my test subjects are slowly dwindling and my short-term associates are growing impatient.

I overlooked something, years I’ve spent experimenting with this crystal and I’ve yet to open my mind to other ideas. So much precious gems and ore lost to such a finite idea, these fools have no idea of the possibilities held within such a small thing. By channeling the crystal to a weapon, I am left with a mere fighter with just another powerful weapon. Why should I waste it only to transform it into a simple weapon when it already is a weapon of mass destruction in itself? Why be contented with just one when I can lay waste to countless? I must delve on this further as I gather more resources.

Alas, my genius astounds me so, and with it I’ve made yet another profound breakthrough with this crystal, as well as secured my place within Tharlack Magthere. They were foolish enough to challenge me, and one by one they all fell as they each tried to challenge me for control over the crystal. Each withered away as the crystal sapped the life from their fragile bodies.

It’s amusing how powerful such a small thing is, and with it I consolidated my power over the Tharlack Magthere. Soon the Talthara shall bow down to my every whim, lest I unleash my new weapon on Olist Orbinn. I have yet to increase its targeting matrix, but I feel that through other means I can widen its focus area and use it to bring the city to its knees. Once I reach such a point, that foolish Human might learn to know his place in this wretched world, and once he is out of the picture, I shall reach true immortality, free from pain and mortal harm; I shall become a god! The stars will align and the Deep shall tremble for I shall ascend to the heavens, a Dark Elven patron far more powerful than The Lord of Spiders!

The fool grows impatient as well for he keeps sending his envoys to oversee my progress, and it is beginning to be most annoying. Ironic how he is a short-lived Human with the luxury of time on his side, because of that shard, he has reached immortality. I must take the shard for myself for he is unworthy of its power! I shall have one to be fashioned as my weapon and one to secure my ascension into power.

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[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Twenty-nine[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Once again, my services have been employed in securing something for Arkolio, and it was a most dangerous task to say the least since G’ork, Leisa, and Dogboy were employed again as well. At first I wondered if I was employed to burn temples and slay knights once more, but then I was proved wrong as we boarded a ship bound for an island off of Hurm, accompanied by a fleet of ships. Protocol demanded further information and as always Arkolio indulged us with as little as possible until the actual incursion– the fleet was ferrying goods and trinkets to be delivered to an island off of Hurm for some unknown entity. While onboard, Arkolio’s associates demanded an audience with him to discuss further details, I presumed them to be individuals of various businesses but to my amusement, they were Black Wizards from Belinara. A trade agreement was set into motion between the two parties, and we were tasked in securing the desired trinket. Regardless of our rather vague job descriptions, I eagerly offered my services out of curiosity.

Once we landed on our drop-off point, the supplies were hauled by the sailors and we secured them until such a time when someone or something arrived to meet us for the exchange. Waiting for hours on end, a few hooded men approached us accompanied by creatures resembling dragons, although smaller. The business transaction was lengthy and dragged on with both parties on the defensive, it is sufficient to say that figuratively speaking, we were within the belly of the beast as we were surrounded by legions of bizarre creatures and armed individuals. Soon after, negotiations came to a halt and the opposing party left, leaving us for a few hours again, calm were the waves across the shore, and soothing was the breeze that swept our faces, but the tranquility of the environs were immediately shattered when a massive black dragon descended before us – the Black Plague.

Offering to the massive dragon his tribute of weapons and armor borne from rare materials like mithril and dragon scales, Arkolio put on a good show in an attempt to appease the Dragon in exchange for a simple request – to be able to use the cauldron of Tcarre. Apparently, this cauldron is capable of creating powerful magical essences that only the most powerful dream of, and Arkolio’s associates need it in order to create some powerful trinket or formula. Filling the dragon’s head with much praise and words of amusement, Arkolio was easing his way to asking his favor, but much to my annoyance, the dragon proved difficult to deal with in terms of requesting for the cauldron. Instead of making things simple by relinquishing the cauldron, the dragon demanded more of us, quite annoying really for we were in no position to deny it of its demands lest we face a gruesome death. In exchange for use of the cauldron and whatever is created from it, we are to make a duplicate to be given to the dragon, and in addition to that, the dragon must be present as the cauldron is used. In order to rectify the situation and maintain the anonymity of the task at hand, proper collateral was given to the Black Plague so that he may be persuaded not to oversee the procedure. The dragon’s arrogance continued to antagonize us, and with it, he demanded a few from our ranks as collateral – Leisa and I, to be specific. The dragon took flight and headed towards a nearby cliff, taking us as collateral in exchange for the cauldron. Watching from a distance, Leisa and I watched with scrutiny as the Black Wizards went offshore to begin preparations.

Regardless of whatever they created, no casualties were gained on both parties and that is sufficient enough considering I agreed to the contract to sate my curiosity. It escapes me still as I put the pieces of Arkolio’s various contracts, and I sense that there is an ulterior motive behind all of it. Powerful individuals and magic are in play and it would be best to remain as a cohort to please these powers. [/INDENT]

[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty[/INDENT]

[INDENT]A beautifully crafted piece of parchment resides within the many pages of the intricate tome. The paper is interlaced with a mass of webs treated with black ink, and amidst the flurry of webs, a glowing watermark sporting an insignia is clearly seen. A few names in Dark Elven can be seen glowing with the insignia. A substantial amount of space for more names is apparent.

Yet again, another powerful being has resurfaced, Te’thalus, a lich with a legion of undead at his command. Mistone’s problems grow exponentially as it seems, and this lich is as much a threat as the Green Dragon Cult. It’s only a matter of time before the continent is consumed by all sorts of malevolent beings vying for power. It is somewhat disappointing to see how sluggish this Green Dragon Cult is with their operations, I expected them to have attacked the outlying settlements in search of the rumored Bloodpool by now.

For the time being, I must set my affairs in order and ensure the completion of a few tasks; my survival and progression will be at risk if I delay further.  My objective is simple, my main targets are clear, and I need only deliver their locations of residence. I must make haste in securing such information lest his eyes gaze upon me and I burned in his impatient fury. Although, I put myself at great risk if I subject sooner than desired, I must know more about this lich before delivering its demands. Yet again I must play coy and extract information from my target; it comes with a significant risk but a necessary one at that. Hopefully this one does not see through my well-crafted visage of curiosity and benevolence.
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[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-one[/INDENT]
[INDENT]My goals are simple and systematic, the first two steps in my grand scheme involved leaving the utopian society of Eilndar and the Deep, while the second involved laying my foundations on the surface. I’ve come across many a mage and swashbuckler, growing tired of the mindless rabble of individuals that come and go, offering their services to the highest bidder or just wasting their talents for that matter, having no allegiances or ties to anyone or anything, I sought to bring order to such chaos. Mercenaries and thugs roam the streets wreaking havoc for petty change, wizards and sorcerers wasting their powers to the brink of decrepitude. These people must be educated or better yet, controlled, if they will not see the light of my transcendent mercenary organization, then I will make them see it.

Using my resources and contacts, I set up a meeting with three individuals willing to aid me in establishing my guild and securing our place within the underground world of Mistone. Three individuals that command numerous of followers under their wing and could prove to be potential allies, and each of them offered me a chance to prove my worth and that of my servitors. A detailed list of the individuals will follow, along with further information for future reference:

Employer: Zenoir Elvi
Race: Dark Elf
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: Zenoir Elvi, a servant of Corath with a penchant for darkweaving, not only does she use it on others, but she also uses such magic on herself, thus reaching near-undeath. She commands the local underground sect of Corathite darkweavers near Fort Wayfare and the surrounding environs.

Target: Torag the Terrible
Size of Force: Minimal – 30 to 50 (Rough Estimate)
Notes: A local Orc warmonger that continues to harass the trade routes between Fort Wayfare and the backwater town of Frolic. The target has been known to harass local caravans for raw materials, food, and weapons for a lengthy period.
Parameters: Eliminate the target by any means necessary
Compensation: 25,000 Trues
Status: COMPLETED

Employer: Bluntnose
Race: Orc
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: Survivors of the Blackwater massacre, a paltry group of mercenaries trained in a lifestyle that requires a certain degree of discipline.

Target: None
Parameters: Secure the caravan to Katherian and destroy all hostile threats
Compensation: 10,000 Trues
STATUS: DENIED

Employer: Jardin
Race: Gnome
Size of Force: Minimal – 20 to 40 (Rough Estimate)
Notes: Leader of a mercenary group bent on a wide array of business ventures. The employer has recently found and unearthed derelict ruins dedicated to Toran, and has found it problematic to quell the local populace of paladins and priests that dwell therein. The paladins and priests show heightened aggression and hostility towards outsiders and each other as well. The main proponent for such a phenomenon could be the malevolent artifacts that lay hidden inside the ruins. Everything found will be gathered and split on a ratio wherein my party will take a third of the true and relics found, apparently equivalent exchange does not exist in the world of this annoying Gnome.

Target: Ruins
Parameters: Secure the ruins and destroy all hostile threats
Compensation: 5,000 Trues
Status: DENIED

Summation:   

Zenoir Elvi’s offer yielded the most profit, and it also meant dealing with a self-delusional brute; it seems that one can never get something for nothing nowadays. Regardless of this brute’s title, Torag the Terrible was dispatched appropriately on the field of combat, and his forces were slaughtered within seconds. Although he was far more resilient than his underlings, he easily fell nonetheless. He received a fitting end, but it is a far too noble death for such a decrepit and inferior creature.  Sadly, it was a far too easy task, but that is irrelevant, what mattered most is that we were paid 25,000 Trues in exchange for our services, and hopefully this Zenoir Elvi would acknowledge the supremacy of my little cabal. It is sufficient to say that she could have been a potential ally had she not been tainted by the Mad God; nonetheless, I will allow her to exist so long as she does not get in my way.

Considering my insufficient numbers to accommodate all three, I would have wanted to complete all three offers, but time is a resource that these surface races seem to value most so I was faced with the decision to veto an offer. The Orc named Bluntnose required additional forces to escort a caravan from Fort Wayfare to Katherian and to undertake such a task for such a minimal fee would be time-consuming. I chose the offers that were close to Fort Wayfare for convenience, and with that I would have an eye on the local mercenary groups that dwell within the vicinity, these two bands were only a few of those that I intend to dominate, it’s either they acknowledge my cabal’s existence or they crawl six feet under the earth.

Having already completed one task, I subtly agreed to accommodate Jardin regardless of his lack of transactional ethics, seeing as how equivalent exchange was non-existent to him, I would take everything from him to serve as a lesson in ethics and humility; it is somewhat mildly amusing how he acknowledged my half-hearted visage. His underlings were stationed on the outskirts of Fort Wayfare, guarding their newly acquired tomb of relics, and they numbered rather substantially with an assortment of Humans and Gnomes but they all fell easily enough. The fallen clergymen of Toran within the tomb proved far more difficult to dispatch due to the nature of their magic, but in the end I was able to secure what the Gnome wanted for himself – a massive depository of old scrolls, and along with them, one such scroll of notable magical proportions. To think that one must be subject to a choice when dealing with such offers is ludicrous, why bother with dealing with petulant contractors when you can simply take what they have, it’s much like quelling a local infestation and finding a gold mine at the same time.
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[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-two[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Being contracted by Daralith as a guardian has been most amusing regardless of the circumstances we’ve faced – being held captive by agents of the Dark Mother, silencing a defiant farmer, and being trapped in the Deep by Chanda and her ilk. All throughout our journey across Mistone and through a section of the Deep, somehow we’ve always received a puzzle piece resembling that of an orb, to be used as a key to the next location of this elaborate hunt.
 
We started our journey within the Gloom Woods and met with a priestess of the Dark Mother, but such a business meeting with females never end all too well, and before we could even attempt to struggle, we were subdued and taken as prisoner within one of their temples. I woke up within a decrepit jail cell next to Brian, next to our cell was Myrena, and we had but one single female guard watching us. Myrena was constantly taunting the guard, while Brian and I devised plans on how we will be escaping. Seeing as how we were already in a tight position, in the middle of nowhere and held captive by a group of fanatical females, why not have fun along the way? In that sense, I sought to converse with the guard, in an attempt to lure her inside by enticing her with empty words and false hope. Throughout this ordeal, I’ve only been able to justify my understanding of females as stubborn and maniacal, and obviously I failed to lure the guard inside our cell. We’ve stayed there for a few more hours until suddenly, the guard just released us to meet with a tortured Daralith, and we were to be escorted to a portal back to the surface. Daralith was shaken and weakened after his business meeting, but he did not leave empty handed, for he brought with him the start of a mind-raking journey – the first orb.

It took us so much time to solve the blasted contraption made up of interchanging parts with Dark Elven letters that form into words, some of the parts were charred and proved difficult to use since the letters were near-impossible to discern. Words like House Sz’june and the Vin’larie continued to haunt us as we struggled with the infernal trinket, but eventually we managed to solve it and held inside was another orb. This orb was unique and did not have interchanging words as a puzzle, but rather it had obscure landmass for features and had three spiders on certain sections of the orb – it was an ancient map of the Deep that seems to be connected to the surface. We scoured maps of every age in an attempt to cross-reference it with the orb; one notable feature of the orb is that it acts much like a compass, wherein your location will be determined by how close or far the spiders are from each other, and once the three spiders intercept one another, then you would have reached your target.

Not only did Daralith bring back the first puzzle of his supposed mission, he also brought people on our trail. After we were abducted by the females, they decided to go on a little jaunt on the surface, and massacred a town not too far from Fort Vehl. Passing by the abandoned town, it was obvious that people were following us due to the evidence they left – the place reeked of divination magic and a pin with the insignia of Lucinda was left in the ruin.

We made our way to the Brech Mountains as we interpreted the spiders’ movements, and along the way we stumbled upon two nuisances – a defiant farmer and annoying servants of Corath. We stumbled upon two servants of Corath claiming to be old acquaintances with Daralith, and bade them to come join us, one was named Chanda while the other Cassandra. Regardless of the alliance between the Lord of Spiders and the Mad God, Daralith and the other two seemed to regard each other with slight hostility, or perhaps that was just sarcasm. But nonetheless, I found them deplorable due to their infantile mockery.

To ease our hunt for the entrance to the Deep, we decided to be civil and ask the commoners that reside near the mountains. We demanded of the farmer and his wife for information as to where we could find a certain part of the mountain, and of course, they were defiant, it was probably due to the manner of how they all spoke. Had they allowed me to speak on their behalf, we could have siphoned the information we needed in a timely manner, but then again, I may be mistaken. Defiant as they were, we let them be, but left them with a parting gift by burning their house down before proceeding onward.

We wandered around for a time, fending off the local Giant populace that proved difficult to kill due to their numbers, Brian and Myrena died most of the time during the incursions as well, but lucky for them, we had priests that could raise the dead.    Oddly enough, it seemed that the spiders were no longer nearing each other but were moving towards separate ways; obviously it meant we were lost so we backtracked to the burned farmhouse where we started. Surprisingly, the spiders coincided once we reached a well near the farmhouse, oddly enough, once we got to the place, an earthquake shook the ground and a crystal rose from the crevice. Upon closer inspection, the crystal had a slot big enough for the orb to fit in, and so it was obvious enough that the orb was to be placed there, and as Daralith did so, another earthquake shook the place as something within the well began to stir and grumble. Brian took the initiative by offering himself up as the first to die by jumping in the well, figuratively speaking. Much to our disappointment, he lived, and came back, noting that the well was the entrance to the Deep. One by one, we all squirmed down into the well with a secure rope. Taking the orb with him, Daralith was the last to go, or so we thought. Once we reached the Deep, the rope was cut, and Daralith’s supposed allies were nowhere to be found. I was right in trusting my instincts and seeing them as enemies, but I feel that soon we will have our revenge against them.

Crossing the boundaries between the surface and the Deep once more, we trekked across the dark caverns and jumped across ravines, and soon after we found ourselves in an abandoned Dark Elven city. Scouring the city, the spiders finally intercepted as we reached a temple nearby a fallen house that had the statues of the Vin’larie complementing its façade. Congruent to the statues were two shimmering orbs that were saturated with magic beyond my understanding, oddly enough, as I approached them, voices began whispering in my head and I felt a searing hate for the Humans within our group, such powerful magic. I wanted to burn Brian on the spot, although it did not hold sway over my actions, I still heard the voices within my head, but soon after they dissipated as we entered the temple. The temple was massive and had elementals as new residents, but we cleared them on our way to the main hall. Reaching the very heart of the temple itself, we found a wide array of magical contraptions and images denoting that the temple was dedicated to both the Dark Mother and the Lord of Spiders, back when the two deities had followers from the opposite genders. Brian and I were tasked with overseeing the defenses of the chamber should there be any intruders while Daralith and Solena begin their rituals. What they did in the main chamber is of no concern to me, but instead I focused on making sure that the interlopers from the massacred village be deterred.

The chamber was crumbling, but Daralith and Solena were successful and were in the possession of another orb; somehow I’m not surprised for it seemed to be a recurring theme for the duration of the expedition. People were on the hunt for us and the derelict temple was crumbling, luckily we managed to make use of an abandoned contraption within the chamber which allowed the creation of a portal to certain locations on the surface. Wasting no more time, we used the portal to Fort Wayfare before the temple would get a chance to entomb us all.

Regrouping in the Silkwood forest, we discussed the new orb that was to harangue us once more, and Daralith eagerly divulged the information. The orb was transparent and held inside a scroll of sorts, but on the surface of the orb were three slots that had specific shapes, and an insignia over each slot was present – the leaf, the heart, and the wolf’s head, each synonymous to enemy deities of the Dark Elven race.

Preparations are currently being held as we plan decisive steps to assault three temples corresponding to each deity; a temple of Aeridin within the Silkwood forest, the temple of Ilsare in Hlint, and the temple of Folian S’pae on Dregar. It will not be an easy task, and we will have legions against us should we seek to advertise ourselves too much, so we devised a cunning plan that will ease our vengeance against Chanda and her ilk, as well as redirect the anger and hatred of the common populace, should any survive our assaults.

In addition to the contract of protecting Daralith and ensuring that anything that gets in our way is killed, I was gifted with a rather powerful sword to be used as leverage against Solena and her cohorts. Should she seek to topple Daralith’s control over the group or oppose him in any way, I am tasked in sending her back to her bindstone along with her cohorts. This should make things interesting, and should she overstep her limitations, it may serve as a lesson in humility for her.[/INDENT]
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[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-three[/INDENT]
[INDENT]The arrogance of females is most astounding and amusing at certain times, one particular female I’ve met on my travails on the surface goes by the pseudonym “Duchess” and has proved to be an interesting subject to examine due to her obscure personality and speech impediment. Her skills in combat are exceptional and she is almost always willing to cooperate with others provided that she is compensated properly. If I am to expand my growing cabal, she will make a fine candidate to lead a melee division as a War Mistress, but first I have to remove Solena’s taint from within her as well as educate her with the proper ideals.

Regardless of the rabble I surround myself with, I feel rather content with having to be able to influence them further, and their developments have been a boon for my own machinations. With aid from my long-term associates, I have been able to consolidate power for myself in the underground world of cutthroat politics and larceny of this surface world. With such power, I have gained more loyal and skilled followers, a cabal that I plan on expanding and reconstructing into a lethal and effective fighting force. Having set my base of operations in Fort Wayfare for the time being, I have been contracted for a multitude of tasks during my stay within the region. I need only solidify my grasp over my underlings as well as my rivals, perhaps a message must be sent to remind these beings of those superior to them.

With such booming developments, others cheer and rejoice while some turn with an envious look on their faces as they feel threatened by one such as me, often at times such folk develop a murderous glint on their faces. In order to secure my place within this cruel world, I have to destroy these envious fools and punish them for their audacity. As I gained more followers, these fools fell in line and cowered in fear, save for one, the followers of Corath. These fools have proved formidable enough to consolidate a small portion of the area and its resources to devote to their god. In order to fully educate those that yet oppose me, I had to make an example of these fools and obliterate them completely.

To my surprise, these servants of Corath have been ransacking my business ventures and abducting my underlings; I underestimated their capacity to be such nuisances, and much like vermin they’ve bred thus far and have thrived off of my inconvenience. Like vermin, they were to be extinguished. Gaining information on their whereabouts from my underlings, I set forth with a contingent of individuals that I specially hired to eliminate this threat. They were foolish to construct a temple so near the environs of Fort Wayfare and conveniently, only a few of them were left to guard the temple. Two individuals clad in black radiated a sickening aura and they both used their weapons with such proficiency.  They both gave my party a difficult time due to their skilled combat prowess and I surmised that they’re probably no longer humanoid due to the deformities on their bodies, probably malformed and twisted as a reward by the Mad God; they were killed after a considerable time nonetheless.

With the underground temple in shambles, I solidify the foundations of my growing legion, and perhaps with this small step, my future goal will come into fruition. With such an auspicious event, I saw it fitting to fashion myself as a ruler, and what more can symbolize my dominion over my servitors than a circlet or a crown, one bearing my symbol or rather that of House Helvivirr. I could probably get used to wearing such a trinket, and in time, I will reclaim what is rightfully mine from the fools that dare call themselves the first house of Eilndar. I am no longer rendered blind by hedonistic pursuits and the pursuit of spellweaving development, and I do not deny the fact that I deem myself different than those fools squabbling underground. House Helvivirr will feel the tremors of my return, and I do hope that Patron Phaeryl and Matron Vasriia cooperate accordingly; I would not want to scratch my prize out of necessity.
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[geloooo]

[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-four[/INDENT]
[INDENT]With only one more piece needed, we set forth for the Forest of Fog in search of the hidden temple dedicated to Folian S’pae, and deep inside that lush forest, we will find our last candidate. Unfortunately, we underestimated the forest and its uncivilized simplicity, apparently, it’s as vast as most parts of the Deep, and is full of equally formidable beasts. I released Izzdrin, my raven familiar, into the outlying regions, and after hours of scouring the forest, initial reports have shown three caverns scattered across the forest and guarded by packs of massive wolves.

Garbed as servants of Corath, we all went our separate ways to cover more ground in search of these caverns, but instead we were met with more of those wolf behemoths. I encountered one as I was nearing the cavern, and judging by its size, it was a formidable one, and with that encounter I could not engage it in direct combat lest I attract more to my position.  Further adding insult to injury, my right leg was caught by a snare trap that snapped and caught my foot, but conveniently I was under the guise of an invisibility spell so the wolf was unable to gander upon me, but I was sure that it knew that I was present. With no other option, I did what any sensible person would in such a dire situation, grasping my sword as tight as I could and biting on a piece of cloth, I positioned my leg such that it would touch the edge of the snare trap, once in position, I hacked at it with all my strength which severed it momentarily.

Having lost a substantial amount of blood as well as a limb, I trudged back to our original position to meet with the others, and hopefully regenerate my leg through a willing candidate. It would have been a simple procedure, a candidate would offer their flesh and I would simply touch them, sapping them of a portion of their life, thus regenerating my leg, but I doubted that any of my associates would happily oblige. Arriving at the original position, I gazed upon Eleandilethessa, blood drunk and tired, I attempted to grab her leg in hopes of regenerating mine but she proved too defiant and denied me such a simple necessity. Having lost a lot of blood already, I lost consciousness, but moments later, I awoke to the sight of my associates, with my leg fully regenerated due to Solena’s divine weaving. I suppose I should be grateful then, but had Eleandilethessa been cooperative, I could have regenerated the leg myself, it would have spared me such a debt to a priestess.

Having already regrouped in order to rethink our efforts at finding a suitable candidate for extraction, I noticed that Brian was nowhere to be seen, and none of my associates knew what befell him, the cowardly human either slithered away in abandonment or fell prey to the behemoths. Regardless of that loss, I was hell-bent on having secured the candidate for Daralith, even if it meant burning the whole forest to cinders, which gave rise to a new plan that involved such a concept. With a new battle plan at hand, we proceeded to set the forest on fire in an attempt to lure out the clergy of Folian S’pae, and as they tended to the flames, we were to strike unseen and abduct a suitable candidate from their ranks. The plan ended dismally as druids emerged from their hovels instead of priests, and as the small cattle of animals fled from the flames, larger beasts arose from their slumber in order to root out the threat of Dark Elves. I fought them as long as I could, having conjured as many Marilith warriors possible just to ensure that Daralith and the others escape safely, but it was to no avail, regardless of how many I slew, more of them swarmed and I was overpowered. I was spat out of my bindstone, weakened and dishonored by such a failure, had I been stronger I could have silenced such mindless beasts with such ease.
 
The Forest of Fog has been marked by Daralith’s failure, the blazing ball of fire shall continue to make cycles across the surface, and no one will truly know of what happened in that wasteland. Perhaps I should be grateful to our cunning disguises for we were not identified nor did we leave any significant traces that might be used against us, save for the puzzle orb which was lost during combat. That orb is a tool of the Dark Mother and the Prince of Hate, and as such it is of no concern to me, I will let the clergy of those two deities to discern what has become of such an ancient trinket.

For now, I set my eyes upon the Dragon Isles and the network of houses that dwell underneath if I am to expand my horizons further, and they will be the first to feel the sting of my dominion. I bide my time for now and soon House Helvivirr shall be reclaimed by its rightful prince and ruled with a will that neither the Lord of Spiders nor the Dark Mother has their sway over. With my rule, House Helvivirr shall command the obeisance of the other miniscule houses of Eilndar, and those that defy such a rule shall be repaid with draconic judgment.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-five[/INDENT]
[INDENT]A few days after Steel’s execution, a letter arrives on the doorstep of 122 Leringard; it is stamped with the shadow of a panther.

If you received this letter, your presence is requested to be at Haft Lake by the end of the week. Only those prepared to act with impunity and with an offensive strategy need come. Those that prefer to react, to stay on the defensive, should do just that, and remain at home.

Employer: Steel, the Dread Blade
Race: Abomination (Human touched by a being from the Pits)
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: Former Steward of the Leringard Arms, affiliate of the Angels Guild, considered as a Dread Blade as per a tradition, combat and spellweaving proficiency, and an ongoing mutual protection agreement with Ni’haer Helvivirr.
Parameters: Use surface race underlings as a resource in Steel’s elaborate plan
Compensation: Pending
Status: ONGOING

Summation:

No summation present; only mental records exist.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-six[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Employer: Adder
Race: Human
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: An ocular view of the employer dictates him to be one of sufficient skill with spellweaving. Allegiances and combat prowess remains undetermined.

Target: Elf, Male, 100 years of age
Size of Force: Minimal – 10 to 15 Conscripts
Notes: The target has been secured in Silkwood, a small force of bandits dwell near the crypt of the ancient lich Arindor. All potential liabilities and comrades of the target have been eliminated. Target has been transported to the One Eyed Harpy for acquirement.
Parameters: Eliminate the target at the stroke of midnight, when the two orbs are at their epitome. Failure to do so will require a new target to be acquired. Body must remain intact, especially the heart.  
Compensation: Enchanting services
Status: COMPLETED

Summation:

The task was simple and mundane enough to be accomplished by a single person, but a whole contingent would be sufficient in order to fully secure the captive and ensure that the body dies at the stroke of midnight. Compensation has yet to be acquired but when needed, it will be demanded of the employer. Regardless, this Adder has proved useful in terms of providing my cabal with steady funds and employment, although his methods attract a great deal of suspicion, I am not one to question the employer’s request. What with his own macabre request, I could not help but grow curious of his intentions as well as his entirety. Conveniently, I have my own means of acquiring information, and I trust that Adder would not mind if I pry a little.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-seven[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Employer: Adder
Race: Human
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: An ocular view of the employer dictates him to be one of sufficient skill with spellweaving. Combat prowess remains undetermined. Sources dictate some association with the powerful Milara.

Target: Mechidil, Demilich
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: A Demilich of considerable power and knowledge, having lived for over seven centuries. May or may not be native to the plane of Layonara, but is currently travelling the planes. Has a following that dwells in Silkwood, the cabal is led by one Socha the Slayer.
Parameters: Gather any and all information on the Demilich
Compensation: 25,000 Trues
Status: COMPLETED

Summation:

In order to locate a being of considerable age and power, I set my sights for beings that might have lived just as long, the most convenient targets being Arindor and Storan in Mistone. Parading much like not-so-stealthy thieves, we ransacked Storan’s hovel and attempted a more civil transaction of information, but alas, the lich refused to cooperate when clearly he was in no position to make demands. Easily enough, the ancient lich relinquished what we desired but only after we’ve managed to destroy his physical form, it’s rather ironic how he easily gives us what we want without even saying a word. At this rate, the people I deal with will think of me as some petulant barbarian, incapable of staying his hand. With that revelation, I’ve reached an understanding as to how these people might refer to me, and quite frankly I’d rather be feared for what I’m capable of; that’s probably the culmination of my life’s work. These surface dwellers need to be reminded of their place in this cruel world.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-eight[/INDENT]
[INDENT]I have had the pleasure of spinning my own web of intrigues against those that dare hinder my plans of conquest, but somehow the houses that control part of the Dragon Isles won’t easily bow to my dominion, but rather they remain focused in their attempts at monopolizing the slave trade in Enderal. Without any substantial forces, I cannot simply barge into the cluster of islands and lay claim over all its land and inhabitants. I then realized that a standard Dark Elven city would have a standing army of thousands, and that army would then be fortified by a thousand more soldiers through expendable slaves. It dawned on me that I would need a substantial force to lay siege to these petulant houses, or at least have someone do it for me. Unfortunately, I cannot easily recruit Dark Elves from the Deep to do my bidding so I must steal underlings from the locals through guile and subterfuge.

Three houses vie for power in the massive underground network; the cryptic House Costyn’Myre, warlike House Aktartoyl, and cunning House Barvilquin. These three houses will make for suitable candidates for assimilation, and only the strongest will survive the first phase of the onslaught. I sent envoys to each of the houses expressing my desire to be of service to their various plans of conquest and they immediately jumped at the offer, each one expressing its elaborate plan to destroy its rival. House Aktartoyl however lived up to its moniker when it slew my envoy before it got the chance to deliver the message. House Barvilquin and House Costyn’Myre were both to devour each other and they both had planned to stir House Aktartoyl into attacking their designated target, it was only a matter of who gets to reach House Aktartoyl first. I was rather fortunate to be tasked with riling up House Aktartoyl, but I had other plans in mind. It would be a waste to let their plans unfold as originally dictated, my plan was far more suitable and limited casualties to a minimum, and in such a case, the house of my choosing would be substantially crippled.

I had to choose a house that wouldn’t resist my dominion, one that was stable but lacked security, one that exposed its flaws; House Aktartoyl was a blind pawn, a vassal to the house I choose, House Costyn’Myre was rigid, well-structured, and concealed their leaders well, while House Barvilquin was far more compromising. I thought it prudent to eliminate that which was far more powerful, and House Costyn’Myre’s well developed veil was a threat to my machinations. Their leaders were well protected and I would not be able to immerse myself within their web of nobility. Ensuring their crippling end, I struck a deal with House Barvilquin and warned them of House Costyn’Myre’s plan so that they would be prepared, and with that message my opportunist intentions were made clear to them. Simultaneously, I also struck a deal with House Costyn’Myre ensuring their enemy’s demise, and that opportunity was basically my ticket into their surface compound where they were to be trapped. Their superiors signaled for the attack to commence, but my mercenaries and I laid waste to their paltry forces instead. With the compound scoured and secured, we marched to slay any and all remaining survivors, but alas, they all fled back to the bowels of the Deep. Somehow I think that I’ve only severed a leg from a spider, and that the remaining seven legs would come back to trample over me.

Having driven away their competitor, House Barvilquin thought it appropriate enough to grant me control over their slave assets and as such I would represent the house and its minions in the slave hub in Enderal. Perhaps in the near future, I might be able to fully immerse myself within the house to the extent of becoming one of its nobility. Although, I find it rather ironic how I escaped from my bonds as a noble of House Helvivirr only to seek admission into the nobility of House Barvilquin. Then again, House Barvilquin could become my stepping stone as I paint the road red with the blood of my enemies towards the rise of the Dark Elven race and my re-entry into nobility. Perhaps a fresh start in House Barvilquin would be prudent seeing as how war would have eradicated our house had they failed to push back House Phyristra, but still, they are a liability and loose ends must be tied, they will never be forgotten. I will see them once more in due time, our grand meeting would be jubilant and extravagant balls would be held in honor of the house; father would be so pleased at my endeavors, so much so that his smile would stretch from ear to ear, and mother will clap until she dies of exhaustion.

“The cockroach dreams of stomping on the spider.”

That old Dark Elf saying always puts a smile on my face, and by the time I’m finished with my plans, there won’t be a cockroach left on the surface and in the Deep. Indifference, complacence, and the desire for hedonistic and magical pursuits can no longer satisfy me, and I see clearly now what father has desired to cultivate me for. It gives me great satisfaction in knowing that I denied him the pleasure of using me as a weapon, but somehow I am driven to pursue something bigger than my selfish desires, something that Patron Phaeryl and every other Dark Elf relishes – the one thing that is my birthright – conquest over the surface world.

“Darkness devoured the land much like pitch-black fog, and all those it devoured screamed in agony as they were nibbled on by spiders, slowly and painfully.”

Perhaps Daralith was right in his judgment after all, I was never indifferent, and the only difference was that I wore carefully crafted masks that hid my true façade. Quite frankly, I see no point in his summation since it’s more of an advantage. Such pointless words spat out from a dull tongue.[/INDENT]
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Thirty-nine[/INDENT]
[INDENT]A dark red script is written at the bottom of the page, one that’s distant from the usual writing on this journal is scrawled at the bottom. A brief response is written below it in the handwriting of the journal’s owner.

Employer: Alandric Vensk
Race: Human
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: Human Wizard and skilled physician; observations dictate him to be deep within the Church of Corath.
Parameters: Protect the employer
Compensation: Pending
Status: TERMINATED
Summation:

No summation present; only mental records exist.

I WILL SEE YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS SOON, AND ONCE I REACH MY FATHER, YOU’LL ALL BE IN BIG TROUBLE. I LOOK FORWARD TO PLAYING WITH YOU ALL PERSONALLY.

That won’t be happening. You’ll die before you even reach your father, and I’ll have the satisfaction of claiming your eyes as a keepsake to remind me of you.
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[INDENT]Journal Entry Number Forty[/INDENT]
[INDENT]Employer: Adder
Race: Human
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: An ocular view of the employer dictates him to be one of sufficient skill with spellweaving. Combat prowess remains undetermined. Sources dictate some association with the powerful Milara.

Target: Andrew William Reid
Size of Force: Undetermined
Notes: Human minstrel of Ilsare. Spellweaving abilities have been measured and have been judged inadequate.
Parameters: Slay the stone-bound target
Compensation: 50,000 Trues
Status: COMPLETED
Summation:

Once more I am tasked with ending the life of an individual, or perhaps that would be an inappropriate term due to the target being bound to the stones. Killing the target would be futile for it would simply be spat out of its bindstone, quite an inconvenience really, but in my travels I’ve found other means of darkweaving that could be sufficient enough to at least cripple the target. If I’m killing these people for monetary compensation, I might as well give my employer an added bonus for his gracious patronage of my cabal. With that in mind, not only did I kill the annoying minstrel, but I also took a sample of his blood, but only just enough for a spell to be fabricated. As for the spell itself, I leave it to Stygian to figure that part out, and with him being a “know-it-all” wizard I’m sure that his vast knowledge could easily discern the proper ritual needed.

The task itself was not much of a challenge, and the minstrel easily lunged into my web of intrigues. Thinking me for a patron of his raw goods, I set up a meeting with him at the Stormcrest Crossroads for the transaction, and instead of a jubilant patron of wild mushrooms, he found his executioner clad in green robes with a skull for a mask. He died an honorable death and fought for his life in civilized combat even though his attempts at harming me were futile.

With these myriad of contracts I’ve acquired, I found myself perplexed at the idea of acting as an executioner for my employer’s vengeance. Is this the will of the Prince of Hate? Is this why he kept me alive, only to wreak such vengeance on these surface dwellers? I was a petulant child beneath the shadow of the patron of our great race, and I spat on the face of the Prince of Hate as I fancied myself as someone greater than him, yet he never retaliated. Is he incapable of doing so? Or perhaps he’s biding his time, but why would he when he’s a god, and I am but a speck of dust beneath his boots.

Perhaps even in my faithlessness, I subconsciously upheld the will of the Left Hand of Black, and that my travels were manipulated in order for me to be fashioned as a weapon of vengeance. Even with that crazed delusion, I cannot help but think of the relevant symbols and events I’ve seen in my travels. On one occasion, Arkolio mentioned that the gods were fickle creatures, but now I realize that I’m not so different from the very divine creature that I loathed. I am confused, caught in my own web of intrigues, and this time a new player enters the fray, a divine creature that’s ready to devour me.

I dance over a dangerous court and my enemies are ready to trip me; I must prepare a new façade for a new masquerade.[/INDENT]
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