I have spent my time here in Eregant trying to put together the pieces of my now shattered life.  I have been struck blind and, for the first time in my memory, am having to relate my soul to another.  Her name is Daidra and she has become my window back into the world.  Before I can tell that story, I must tell another.

Nearly two hundred years ago, before the invasion of Nagul, two vile peoples met.  Far to the east in the nation of Kami, the great oni peoples took to battle against the bronze elves of Murmanityed.  A heated war raged between the two nations, though over what issue or offense my texts have been unclear.  The Kami were successful in driving the invaders out but not before the elves could strike them at their very core.

The Kami are a very mystical people and do not worship the gods of the west.  Instead they offer their fealty and sacrifices to powerful beings who choose to manifest themselves on this plane as totems and artifacts.  Each city and village has a guardian totem, as does each noble house.  The Murmanityedi knew this and knew the devotion that the people had for them, so they captured one of these spirits to take as a ransom.

They meant it as an effort to turn the invasion back in their favor.  Their clever plan might have worked had the elven couriers arrived to deliver the ransom demands.  Again the records are unclear but the envoy never arrived at the oni general’s camp so the Kami never received the Murmanityedi demands.  What likely would have halted the war enraged it further.  Both sides believed the other barbaric and cowardly and any hope of negotiation and respectable war was lost.

The Kami were able to drive Murmanityed from their lands but the invaders took with them their prize.  I have reasoned that the artifact, a large book, knew what it was doing and allowed itself to be kidnapped.  What happened to this book over the next several decades is a mystery, though I believe the spirit known as Visvatman to have waited quietly, biding his time.  He waited in ambush like a venomous snake.

Visvatman knew that the bronze elves would not worship it but try to wield him as their tool, so he chose not to reveal his power to them.  He made himself as innocuous as possible and was soon relegated to a storeroom in the back of a palace among the other forgotten spoils of war.  For seventy years he plotted in the darkness waiting for a receptive people to liberate it.

These people were the Barlozians.  They stormed the Murmanityed palace and looted its coffers.  Wagons of treasure were hauled back to Perdaith to be sorted and apportioned.  Visvatman saw this as his opportunity to begin his work and brought itself out of hiding.   The archmagis of Barloz saw the raw potential of this artifact but, not knowing its origin or history, he decided that he would have the book copied and studied.  This isn’t exactly what the book had intended.  He could not exert his power through duplicates but he could not erase its contents or he would lose his attachment to this plane.  He could however rearrange its contents obfuscating his true nature and purpose.  The wizards of Barlox, he decided, were too strong of will to fall prey to his charms.  He was also now in a foreign land and needed time to learn the people so that he could discover their wants and desires, their hidden dreams.

The artifact had become known as The Book of Dark Knowledge, as were all of the copies, since it was found among the peoples of the dark tongue.  Copies of the Book were distributed to all of the colleges throughout Barloz to see what new wonders could be extracted from them.  The great thinkers of the country took to pouring over them hoping to unlock the cipher.

Over the next decade wondrous new things were created, the greatest of which were the Crossway Gates, the portals that link the western nations.  Inherent in the very nature of the spirit were the ideas of travel.  Even hidden and obscured, the ability to teleport was written on every page.  Hundreds of other magicks were extracted from its pages but none were as impactful as the Crossway Gates.

The Barlozian king Greco ordered that the original tome be locked away in his vault, to protect it, and that only the copies would be read and distributed.  This angered Visvatman.  He did not want to wait anymore.  Eighty years had passed and he could feel his power slipping away.  He drew up as much power as he could covertly muster to alter his path.  He charmed fate and he was misfiled and another tome was placed in the vault.  He knew not where he would go, only that he would remain free.

The book floated around Barloz for nearly the next half century.  It exchanged hands a dozen times and Visvatman took what power he could from them, but he found them either too dim for his purposes or too set in their ways to be swayed.  The book spent much time in Bardoon before being transported to the temple of Mishya in Mercan.  They had just received a new priest in charge of their archives and he had asked for new texts to be brought in from around the kingdoms.  This priest was me and this is where my story intersects with his.

I was a young man with an insatiable thirst for knowledge but I didn’t have the wisdom to temper it.  The original Book of Dark Knowledge disguised as a copy arrived at my temple and I was immediately drawn to it.  I was the perfect target, though he calls me his protegé.  I was intelligent enough to understand his plans an uncommitted enough to my faith to carry them out.  It pains me to dictate these words, but they are truth.

I have already related the story of my early experiences with the book and the eventual expulsion from my temple, so I will not recount them here.  Just know that none of those events happened without the will of Visvatman having some hand in them.  My adoration of him had given him strength – as my fear of him now does.  Even though I know his true purposes and I feel that I have become his prisoner, parts of me still follow him willingly.  I fear that I am being lead to the slaughter but I continue to follow anyway.

As to how I know my captor’s true intentions, I am now able to tell that story.

While exploring the library here in Eregant with Crebain, a voice came to me.  It introduced itself as Visvatman, a name I had not yet learned.  The voice had a familiar quality to it while being still being entirely alien.  The voice explained that it was the spirit of the book that I carried with me and that it was revealing itself to me because I had passed his tests.  He said that I had seen past his shifting words and through his devious charms.  He claimed to be pleased with me and wished to offer me a “boon”.  He offered to return my mother to me.

I had known my mother only through stories from my father and what vestiges of her had been passed on to my sister.  I knew her to be a quiet, graceful woman who was strong of heart and mind.  Before the final years of his life, my father would often wax poetic about his “sweet Mira”.  In his last year, she had become an obsession for him.  Because she had died giving birth to my sister and me, I never knew her personally but I still loved her dearly.  Often I would sit and wonder wistfully about what she was really like.  I knew that, because she had died a natural death and that nothing now remained of her, I would only be afforded this opportunity if we were to end up in the same afterlife.

My book offered me the ability to change that.  He promised that I would be able to see her again and that I could even speak to her.  He promised that I could do so whenever I wanted and he promised me that I would not be harmed.  I knew Visvatman to be powerful and capable of things nothing else I knew could do.  I probed and questioned him and, as far as I was capable, I deemed him to be dealing with me truthfully.  I have since discovered that his truth was not free of deception.  He had been truthful to me because he knew the explicit assumptions I would make and the questions I would never ask.  I have long suspected that I would find my final destination to be one of the hellish afterlives but never had I considered that she would.

My father had told me how my mother had been a follower of the war gods.  She was of the house of the great general Salawin and his family would follow them.  It seems, however, that Ulmira had a darker side.  She had a quick and calculating mind and loved puzzles and mysteries.  This lead her to begin to dabble in the realm of Hylarr.  The goddess specializes in the greatest puzzle of all, a puzzle in which the pieces are actively resisting being put in their places.  At first it was just a small trick here and a harmless deception there and soon she became hooked, trying to make more intricate and complex plots and increasingly dangerous scenarios.  Her capture by the Jarls and rescue by my father were a result of one of her plots.  Her entire marriage to my father, it seems, was a failed ploy to manipulate the entire royal house of Aligindel.  She had become a secret high priestess of the goddess of the moon during this time.  Olwyrd herself had promised my mother that the greatest manipulation of the age would be hers.

My mother was told that her death would come with the birth of her children and that her death would drive her husband mad.  She was told that his madness would cause the destruction of Firforge and would open Barloz to invasion from the east.  This invasion would destabilize the nation and the aid offered by Spaartha and Aruthien would result in the division of Barloz between the two liberators.  The former Barlozians would eventually rebel against their occupiers and that would further destabilize the western kingdoms.  Olwyrd promised her that the far reaching effects of the plan were beyond understanding but that she would be the lynch pin to it all; she could die knowing that her actions would manipulate entire nations.

With this, my mother’s fate was sealed.  I now know her fate firsthand because Visvatman brought her to me.  Or rather, he brought me to her.  For the last thirty and more years she has dwelt in the realm of Hylarr.  Though I had hoped that she would be able to return with me, I knew that it could not be so, but I had not prepared myself for what I would experience.  I do not think any mortal is capable of preparing themselves.  My sight became filled with blackness and then with a confusing landscape of wonder and despair.  It was still and littered with soft pinpricks of light.  All around me I could hear the rasped breathing of the insane.

I was brought to my mother.  She lay curled on a stone whimpering, long dry of tears.  She was surrounded by comforts and riches that would be the envy of any living person but she would have none of them.  She would not even touch the food offered her even though she was gaunt with starvation.  I tested the cushions and they were soft and warm.  I sampled the food and it was delicious and filling.  I tried to comfort my mother as she murmured to herself but she could not be consoled.  She kept reminding herself that these pleasures around her were not real, that they were another trick.  She refused my aid and raved at me calling me a “spectre” and a “ghost” and telling me that I was not going to fool her again.

That was when I knew.  She had tried all her life to manipulate others into being her pawns and now she was doomed to a life where she was so paranoid that others will do the same to her that she refuses even the truth and goodness offered to her.  I was awash with more pity and anguish for her than I had ever felt for any being in the whole of existence.  I wanted to leave and I bid Visvatman take me home.  But he would not.

Rather, he revealed to me that I could not leave by any effort of my own.  I had accepted his “gift” and he would release me whenever he saw fit.  Even now my eyes are filled with the plush prison my mother had locked herself into.  I thank Mishya that my ears no longer have to suffer my mother’s sobs while I stood impotent to help.

I began by stating that I knew Visvatman’s purposes for me.  He tires of his parchment cage and has fought from himself a new host.  When he arrived in the west a century ago he realized that we held no respect for objects but praised only their makers.  He now intends to break  me down , hollow me out, to make me an acceptable vessel for him.  He has given me full knowledge of this because he knows that I can do nothing about it.  No mortal can cure me of this living hell and it is only a matter of time before it eats away my soul.  I know that even death is not an escape because I know that a fate worse than Ulmira’s awaits me.

I write, or rather dictate, knowing full well that my only hope is oblivion and Visvatman has promised that to me.  It is a sad day when the thought of oblivion warms your heart.

-M.E. via Daidra Iascaire

Prince Edelbrock, one of my frequent traveling companions, had asked us to return to his homeland with him so that he might deal with his father.  The people of Mastillan revere nature rather than the gods and it seems that having a son who is a Chosen of Mishya was somehow an shame for King Tharbrek.  Even an embarrassing son, it seems, will be called home in a time of dire need.  There was great trouble within the king’s borders and he wanted his son home to deal with it.

Our companions assembled east in the nation of Hold Dane where we picked up two new companions, a barbaric warrior and a paladin of Cheleria.  They, along with our normal troupe, continued westward to the city of Sark.  En route we are ambushed by a band of minotaur.  They seemed to be waiting for us and had hidden themselves in a herd of aurochs.  The battle was as protracted as I have seen with this group.  This was not because of any failing on my part or any of my companions, but due to the sheer number of the beasts.

When the last monster fell, we patched ourselves up and soldiered onward.  We arrived at our destination for the night and decided to purchase rooms at the inn.  While it was after dark, we decided that we should have a nicely cooked meal on real plates with a decent wine.  The rangers may know well how to catch and dress game, but their skills as cooks leaves much to be desired.  As we sat and waited for our food, two young footpads approached.  Foolhardy, they tried to lift the purses of two of my companions.

It had been a long day and I was in no mood to any more drama.  As the inn was inside the hollow of a great tree and we were well within druid territory, I thought it appropriate to bring the tree to life and simply hold everyone in place.  One of the two cutpurses was held fast but the other managed to escape into the cellar.  He was soon rooted out and the purses returned.  He also had on him an item of great worth: a ring which can turn its wearer invisible.  Rath excised it from him as punishment.  He also, in an effort to re-educate the wayward lads, took them to a priest to have them atoned.

The next day we set out for and arrived at the capitol city of Gilifar.  We were met by the king and portions of the druid council.  The offered us hospitality – at least to those who would declare their heritage.  This is a common custom in Mastillan, but one that I find very invasive.  Not one to speak falsely but not being willing to reveal my secret, I remained silent.  They rest of my companions, however, chose to introduce themselves properly.  It was then vaguely explained to us the problem facing the king.  I do not believe the explanation went how King Tharbrek expected.

In Mastillan there is a secret mine, guarded by a secret sect of druids.  Its location is known but to a few.  In this mine are incredible veins of adamantine, the mining of which is strictly regulated.  Metal, however, is not all that this mine contains, it seems.  Recently, fiendish creatures and bands of minotaur have been assaulting out of the cavern entrance and it had to be sealed.  The king wished us to investigate for him.  This, however, is when contention began.  They wanted us to go and clear the mine for them but they would not trust us to know where the mine was actually located.  This greatly upset Rath and Alder.  After many cross words, we finally agreed to the king’s restrictions and prepared to enter the cave on the next day.

We were teleported to the entrance of the cavern where we were met by a trio of druids, one of them a firbolg.  She removed the great stone blocking the mouth of the cave complex and a rope was lowered to the cavern floor.  Against my own protests, I was convinced to not simply fly down but to reserve my magical energies and climb the rope.  I was predictably and unceremoniously dumped onto the pile of rubble beneath the entrance when my grip gave out.  The group stifled their laughter, less for my benefit and more to keep any nearby creatures who might intend us harm from being given more warning than necessary of our arrival.

It didn’t take long until we found just such creatures.  A pack of minotaur were patrolling near the entrance but were somehow unaware of our presence.  Using his recently gained invisibility ring, Rath snuck up on the group while the rest of us hung back.  When the time seemed right, we launched our attack.  However, the situation we thought to our advantage turned out to be a trap.  As two of our member rushed across a thin natural bridge over a swift moving subterranean river, one of the beasts activated a device which dropped the bridge with my two friends in the icy water.  The pack of beasts quickly split to flank our bewildered party.

Knowing that I stood no chance against these massive, axe-wielding monsters, I quickly took to the air and offered my support from over the center of the cavern pool.  Having lost our tactical advantage, the minotaur were beginning to harry my companions.  The tense battle raged for what seemed like hours though I know it to have been less than minutes.  Our group was able to triumph in the end, but not without taking several brutal wounds.  Trapped in the cave now, we began our search for somewhere that would be a defensible place to rest.

We were able to find a small alcove in the cave, with only two small entrances.  It would be many hours before Athelas could perform his rituals to regain his blessings from Athor, his god.  In the mean time, Rath and Miach, two of the King’s Rangers from Aruthien, scouted the immediate vicinity.  I had found enough to spark my interest right there in our alcove.  The walls had been covered in ancient carvings.  The language was some hybrid of the Dark Tongue of so many of the vile residents of this world and Arcane Naduumian, the language of the ancient vile peoples of this world.  I already knew that this cave would hold no good news but this brought a true sense of foreboding to me.

We spent the night (if such a distinction can be made in this sunless world) in an extradimensional space provided by the wizardess Holly.  In the morning, with much caution, we ventured deeper into the cavern system.  It was not long until the natural rock of the cave began to turn into worked stone.  I had read myths of an ancient civilization lost in this area before the current peoples had settled here.  It seem that those legends contained at least a thread of truth.  We had stumbled onto an underground city the seemed more than abandoned.  It seemed picked clean.

Immediately on our guard, we progressed forward into the narrow and labyrinthine ruined city.  We cautiously peered around every corner before continuing, expecting something to jump out at us.  Our fears were soon confirmed.  The ancient city’s walls were pocked with small holes, about the size of a child’s head.  Inside each one was something much more sinister than a child.  The former residents of this city had not truly left so much as they had devolved.  What were once brilliant architects and engineers were now savage morlocks waiting in ambush for their next meal.  A small group attacked us as we entered the town square.  They were quickly dispatched.  Knowing that there would be more of them, Holly devised a plan to lure them out.

She conjured an illusion of a cat and sent it walking down the street we had to follow next.  Every starving morlock burst forth from their holes along the ruined street trying futilely to capture the illusory feline.  Holly them smote them all with a searing bolt of lightning.  The warriors mopped up the few survivors as they tried to flee for their lives.  I felt pity for the creatures.  Hunger and darkness had driven them mad, not evil.  But in the world that I keep being drawn into, it seems to be kill or be killed.  Morality and compassion seem to have little place.  Even our priest of Athor, a deity of pure goodness and light, takes no qualm in bringing these creatures low.

The city was well suited for its morlock inhabitants but was less so for us surface dwellers.  It took us some time to navigate our way through the crumbling streets.  Our previous actions seemed to have warned off any further ambushes.  Leaving the city lead us to the mine proper.  We had come upon an old elevator and the remnants of the mining camps.  Rotted wood and rusted tools were not all we found though.  Ominous noises from the shaft greeted us too.  Again we prepared ourselves for battle.

Up from the elevator shaft crawled two huge minotaur, larger than any I had yet seen.  Prepared, the steel of my companions tore into their thick hides.  Not a moment after the initial clash, a fell beast flew up out of the abyss below.  It seems that whatever was afoul in these mines had to deal with the infernal.  A minotaur, corrupted by the lower planes,  took flight in the lofty cavern.  His bruisers on the ground kept us busy while he harried us from the sky.  He slung his foul magicks at us and I did my best to counter him.  Bringing his guards low, we were able to wound him enough to force him into a retreat.  I knew then that this would not be the last we’d see of him.

We ventured further down into the mine.  I had learned from my previous attempts at manually scaling rock faces and chose to ensure my safety with a little magic.  The mine shaft brought us into an even more magnificent cavern than the ones before.  The ceiling was carpeted with a luminous fungus that gave the whole chamber an otherwordly blue-green glow.  The cavern was also lined with raised platforms where some unknown agriculturalist was raising mushrooms and mosses.  While I stood in wonder at the glory of the vault, our more pragmatic ranger scouted ahead.

He returned when he had encountered something that he could not identify.  As soon as I stopped looking and began to listen, my blood turned.  I heard the maddening cackle of a gibbering beast.  I had read tales of spelunkers happening upon these quivering masses and being driven insane by them.  Knowing that I preferred to retain my full faculties – though I wonder about some of my companions – and that our mission was crucial enough to warrant their mental safety, I encouraged my companions to make haste and leave the chamber before the aberrant beast was upon us.

We fled into an elevated room and, due to its use and its markings, we knew it near our final destination.  Peering over the ledge with rimmed the access to the lower level, we saw several figures but more ominously we saw a nearly completed gate.  To which plane this gate lead, I am uncertain but I would stake my soul that it was not to the realms of the generous gods.  Our archer began picking away at the stone with his adamantium tipped arrows, gouging out days of their nefarious progress.  This, predictably, incited them and we steeled ourselves once more for combat.

Fire burst forth from the opening, burning all who were nearby.  Moments later another.  All who had missiles returned fire and then drew swords as beasts began lumbering from the darkness.  A half dozen minotaur  emerged and combat was quickly engaged.  Three of the lot had been tainted by the infernal contact and took to the air on great leathery wings.  With great effort and only through working in concert we were able to bring down each of the fiends.  Brutally wounded, we knew that the war was not over.  We had not but a moment to catch our breath when a dark robed bronze elf rose up out of the gap in the floor.

Whoever he was, he was powerful.  None of us could resist his spells, nor could we penetrate his.  Though I hold very little stock in it, I do believe that it was luck the victory that dark day.  One of Miach’s arrows struck home and sent the wizard plummeting a dozen fathoms to the stone below.  We held for some time, unsure of what else was lurking, waiting for us to drop our guard.

When enough time had passed, Rath, Braden and I descended into the lowest cavern to remove all the work these monstrous beasts had wrought.  The rogue Braden also helped himself to several ingots of adamantine ore.  With things cleared and returned to as normal as a morlock-infested minotaur den can be, we returned to the surface to inform the druid council of the situation beneath their feet.

When we surfaced, we were greeted by Edelbrock and a firbolg druid who escorted us back to the palace.  Obviously the Favored of Mishya had settled things with the worshipers of Seiba’s hand.  Tharbrek and his council were grateful for our assistance and seem to take take grave our warning.  Their borders would not long be safe.  The cavern dwellers were in league with the bronze elves and with Manath.  It would not be long before the emperor made another move.

The king rewarded each of us with a nation’s worth in refined adamantium and offered each of us honorary positions int he Mastillan military.  Fully half of our members accepted the mark of the auroch.  I was among those who declined.  I am not a military man and I do not believe I will ever become used to the bloodshed that is so commonplace to the others.

From Mastillan we each parted and went our separate ways.  I remained with the druids for a few more days.  I had learned that the druids had the ability to open the eyes and minds of animals, giving them the wits of any humanoid.  I have had with me, ever since that fateful day in Mercan, a raven.  The bird was not magically compelled to me or in any way magically attached like a familiar is to an arcanist.  I had named him Crebain and taught him my mother’s tongue.  He had been such a good friend to me, filling my dark and sullen life with a modicum of joy.

I meant to give him a gift.  A selfish gift, I’ll admit, but a gift nonetheless.  I asked one of the druids to teach me how to awaken my friend and , after several days, I was finally successful.  Crebain explains that his mind was suddenly unclouded and he was able to understand and connect things like never before.  The way that I understand it is almost as if a great sobriety had come over him, a sobriety that had always existed in him that he was only now able to access.

I have not been in Eregant but a day and my avian friend is pestering me to take him to the libraries.  On the voyage over, I was able to teach him the basics of several of my most commonly used languages.  As we had exhausted the written resources I carried with me, he wants to go and practice with new material.  I am nearly as eager to explore their archives.  The excitement and freshness of my companion has renewed my vigor.  I envision great things for my time here and for Crebain’s future.

-M.E.

The Royalty of Aruthien by way of the ranger Rath had asked us to sail south to Caliban to help the Queen Lysa and her people who were fleeing the army of Manath.  The call went out and we collected ourselves for our venture towards the Veil.

We arrive in Port Last as several of the refugee ships were beginning to unload.  It seems that King Resolute and his army had stayed back in order to buy his people the time to escape.  His valor had cost him and his men their lives, but it did allow his people to board their ships.  We had not been in port more than an hour when the Queen requested our special aid.  It seems that their fool king had ridden into battle with an ancient artifact and that this item needed to be returned to the queen as soon as possible.

Alder, and Aligendelite noble, agreed to the task – as did Athelas, Braden and the wizardess Holly – out of some noble inclination of the goodness of his heart.  I agreed because of how close it would take us to the edge of the veil.  No scribe had yet ventured and returned with any information on this mysterious barrier surrounding Manath’s lands.  Rath had been specifically ordered to help with the refugees, so he remained in port while the rest of us headed southward.

Our pilot would only take us so far down the Blood Shoals and soon we had to deship and travel overland to the site of the battle.  We arrived at dusk and decided that traveling under cover of darkness was our safest option.  I do believe that we were mistaken.

Not far from the coast was a set of ruins that emitted an ominous green glow.  Despite my cautions, the party decided to search them for clues.  Predictably, it was not long before some creature ambushed us.  Somewhat to my surprise, some sort of incorporeal undead were the aggressors.  They apparently had reacted to Alder’s noble insignia.  The fight was short and intense, as I am finding many of them to be.  The wraith had wounded Alder’s very core in the fray and he would need restorative magic eventually.  Again, against my cautions, the group decided to press onward.

We had barely left the ruins when we were confronted by a Manath patrol.  Unable to think quickly enough, we triggered an attack.  After a few moments of battle, it became apparent this patrol’s leader was not a bronze elf, as I had assumed.  She was a medusa, whose gaze could turn to stone.  It wasn’t long after I realized this that her cold stare caught mine, and I was petrified.  The account from here is second hand, as I did not return to my senses until we had arrived back in Port Last.

Athelas, whose story I most trust, said that Holly was also rendered immobilized by the medusa’s stare.  However, the patrol and its monstrous leader were dispatched.  The three remaining adventurers pressed onward to the battle site where they were attacked by a kyton.  Her chains were fierce but alone she was no match for the three of them.  They were able to find the king’s horse and a chalice in one of the saddle bags.  I am sure that there is much more that happened during this time but Athelas is a man of few words.

Upon return to Port Last, my stony imprisonment was reversed, as was Holly’s.  For reasons I still do not fully understand, Athelas had Holly’s cat transformed into a dragon for the lesser part of an hour.  Also, while returning to our ship to sail back to Caliban, I was made to touch the chalice.  This rendered me unconscious and I saw a dim vision.  Of what, I cannot be sure.  The other claimed to receive messages from relatives and even divine beings.

After arrived in Caliban, we relayed the news to the queen.  We also divulged some information regarding the chalice.  It was said that if the King of Ehrenland were to place it in a temple of goodness, that his country would be blessed.  As Ehrenland currently has no one claiming the throne, Athelas requested – as Ehrenlanders do, that is – that the chalice be brought to Doomsbridge, its rightful home.  He offered any who would come as safe a haven as Ehrenland could offer.

Thousands of refugees took the offer, as did Queen Lysa and her remaining family.  I too chose to join them.  Ostensibly it was to aid the sick and to properly establish temples, but my true intent – when the work was done – was to see the world inside the closed borders and to meet the almost mythical Den, former king of Ehrenland.

I have been able to now do both.  I return to the temples soon to continue my tutelage under Del.  I have had little time or desire to do much else but learn from him.  There might be a reason that Ehren books are written on trees: what they have to say, when they say it, is often worth listening to.

-M.E.

Can’t I just cast like everybody else?

On paper, the Alchemist looked interesting – bomb-throwing, funny-sounding infusions, lots of custom rules.  Basically, it’s a replacement Bard – a limited arcane caster (who doesn’t *really* cast as such, he brews) who operates as a support character with some combat capabilities delineated later.   I skimmed all the classes and the Alchemist was the one I decided I wanted to playtest.

In practice, it gave me a headache.  I understand the urge to build a non-casting caster, but I ended up having to study for some time just to figure out how to make the class work.  (Not study to optimize, just to play, and I’ve played a lot of classes).

Mutagens – wouldn’t touch them.  I’m sure some players will want to build a self-only casting physical-stat booster who wades into melee despite a medium BAB, simple weapons and light armor – but not me.   (Also, I think there are other classes that probably do this better).

The few options to build a party-support character seemed weak – blade poison isn’t that great after low levels and being able to cast my spells into little infusions so other characters could drink ‘em later seemed clumsy at best.

So I built a Mad Bomber.  The Bomb options are kind of neat, though I wish they were a little more divided into Discoveries that Stack and Discoveries that Don’t Stack.  As it is, part of your Discovery stacks, but not the rest … headache.  Bomb damage is about the same as a Rogue’s sneak attack, but is a tad easier to deliver since it’s a Touch Attack and doesn’t require special conditions.  On the other hand, for most of your Alchemist career you can throw one Bomb as a standard action and are kind of wimpy.  I spent the level 10 Playtests wandering around trying to be relevant and getting killed.  I’m pretty sure my level 7 Ranger in our usual Campaign could take this guy at level 10.

That said, in the level 15 playtest I became a B-52.  I could throw bombs equal to my BAB, and with Rapid Shot and Haste (assuming both are legal) I could throw 5 bombs a round – at that level, 40d6+45, all touch attacks, with me needing to roll a 2+ with all but the last bomb against the big demons we were killing.  Considering I could throw various damage types, I could literally carpet-bomb big enemies and kill their sidekicks with spash damage.  At the moment it felt cool because I could finally do something useful, but in hindsight, that’s a tremendous amount of damage output.  (I can’t keep it up long because I only had 24 bombs per day, but still … until I run outta bombs, it’s evil.)

Casting was frustrating.  Because I hadn’t taken the ability to make my personal spells usable by others, I literally could do nothing to help my friends in battle and often couldn’t be effective myself, because I couldn’t hang in melee, had to get close to toss bombs, and couldn’t buff or heal my friends when they needed.  Even if I had been able to infuse my ‘spells’ for use by others, they still had to waste actions drinking them.  Any other buff caster would be better.  I did my most useful actions UMDing wands to help my allies, which was lame.

Recommendations and Thoughts:

I did like the class concept, even though it’s not very high-fantasy – still, a mad bomber is a fun idea, and though I didn’t use it, the Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde mutagen build was at least amusing.

Make NO bomb discovery stack with any part of any other.  Make all the things that modify Bomb abilities that stack into feats – so I can get the increased splash radius or smoke or rapid-fire or whatever as feats.  (I didn’t need many feats, because few of them help me throw bombs, and I’m not REALLY a caster …)

Please, please make the Alchemist a standard caster.  It’s OK to know some magic in order to perform Alchemy.  If you cast like an underpowered wizard, you could use Metamagic feats and items and would be governed by all the ‘normal’ magic rules.  This would make for a much shorter, less complicated character description which can concentrate on special abilities and bombs and not the intricacies of casting without being a caster.  This would make it easier to be a party support character – and much, much more useful without being overpowered.

The Alchemist is enough of a skill-monger to sub for a Rogue, if they could disarm magical traps.  Just sayin’.

Throwing one bomb per Standard action is too weak and throwing at full BAB is nuts if you go for rate-of-bombing.  I’m not sure if there is a proper compromise for this.

And now for the rest of the party:
The Summoner:

A souped-up Conjurer or an uber-Druid – the Summoner is a cool character concept.  Basically, it can pull some magic and a lot of Summoning, plus it has a seriously heavy ‘pet’ that’s a mutable outsider – basically build-a-monster that is your Summoner’s loyal servant – called an Eidolon.

Oh, my.  After the playtest, we all agreed our Summoner was easily the most powerful character on the battlefield even though the Player hadn’t bothered to buy his 10^th level gear and only had a single magic item at 15^th.  This character never personally engaged in combat.  There were some rounds he was magically dominating the battlefield and the Eidolon wasn’t even participating.

First, the Eidolon is WAY too complicated.  I heartily dislike it as character ‘pet’.  I recommend you remove from the class entirely.  The Summoner is powerful enough with spells and their Summon Monster Spell-like ability.

If the Eidolon can’t be gotten rid of, please consider making ‘Eidonlon Master’ it’s own class – because, really, the guy controlling it doesn’t NEED spells of his own – or, at the very least, making it a ‘track’ of Summoner ALTERNATIVE to Summon Monster(Sp); having both of these was just amazingly powerful.

I liked the idea of the Summoner, but would modify it.  First, I’d make the Summon Monster(Sp) creatures individuals – you’re summoning the same monster(s) every time, so you build a relationship (and might be able to upgrade) your critters.  We thought it’d be cool if, for example, at 1-4 you can summon one Elemental, then at 5-8 two types, then 9-12 three, and so forth.  By 16^th level you could summon whatever elemental type you needed, and perhaps might have upgraded your extraplanar allies a bit with feats or items.  Seemed like a cool class different enough from a Druid to make them worth playing.

Overall, cool character concept, but the Eidonlon and SM(Sp) combination is ugly.

The Inquisitor:

Imagine a smoothed-out multiclass between Cleric and Ranger (with a dash of Paladin) and you’ve got something like an Inquisitor.  Limited casting (more Bard, not Pally), Cleric-ish selection of weapons, and some cool abilities.  Could sub for a Ranger or Pally or light support caster.

This class seemed pretty good from my side of the table.  He needed a Battle Buddy to really use his powers, but did well in Melee and later on tossed some handy spells.   We didn’t notice any abilities or skills that seemed over or underpowered, though anything ‘Teamwork’ seemed a bit weak.

The Witch:

Basically another heavy-caster class, like a Wizard or Sorc; the Witch (A Witch!) has a few special abilities and less of a direct-damage casting list.

Not too shabby – like most power casters, struggled a bit to hit her stride, but contributed a LOT to the battles and was generally liked – except the NAME.  First, ‘Witch’ makes everybody assume a female character, and second, ‘A Witch’ causes spontaneous Monty Python and the Holy Grail quoting, which chews up game time every time it happens. 

The Cavalier:

A dedicated mounted fighter focused on lance charges and with banners to boost his allies, the Cavalier is distantly related to the old 1st Edition Cav.

Oh, the poor Cavalier.  Of all the classes we tested, this was the only one I think we’d reject completely.  The Cavalier is WAY too dependent on horses and charging.  The poor Cavalier was the most prone to be killed or badly wounded.  Fighting a dungeon crawl without a mount was crippling.

I played a Cavalier back in 1^st edition and loved him.  Right now, there’s really no reason not to play a Fighter instead.

Suggestions (radical):  Repurpose this class.  Were it me, I’d make them a non-magical buffer like a Bard who can fight well in melee – Cavaliers Lead the Way or something like that.  Possibly Morale boosting abilities for all allies in 30’ on a Charge OR when set to Receive a Charge.  (Radius increases when mounted or something).  Morale bonuses to Save if they make a save or Crit if they Crit.  Their mount and allies mounts should be able to charge further.  The ability to take a Monster Mount at high levels.

Their abilities – whatever they are – need to work on foot and mounted, or they swap abilities when on foot or mounted, or as a last resort, give them two Cavalier tracks, one specializing in being mounted, the other for being afoot.

Finally, if you’re going to tie most of their combat power to a mount, you’ve got to make sure they can keep their mount with them.  What happens when the Cavalier has to adventure underwater?  In a narrow hallway?  I’d let them magically summon their horse.

The Final Word:

OK.  I’m a High-Fantasy, Low Magic kind of player in general, a roleplayer who rarely min-maxes and doesn’t much care for multiclassing for optimization.  That said, there’s little among these classes that appeals to me.  I’d ban Summoners outright from my campaigns without major changes to their Eidolon and power level.  I doubt many would play an Alchemist or Cavalier without minor changes to the first and major to the second.  Right now the Inquisitor and Witch would fit into my Campaign setting and games just fine.  Wish we’d gotten to test the Oracle …

Mainly, though, all these classes are COMPLICATED.  Some needlessly so.  I realize every class can’t be simple, but Pathfinder has enough shared mechanics in combat, magic and monsters that creating new classes shouldn’t require quite so much mental gymnastics.  I’m not asking for dumbed-down classes, just elegance in gameplay, even if it takes more playtesting and more time.

I’m sure the other guys will chime in with their thoughts, then they’ll send them on to Paizo.  I’m looking forward to seeing the final product!

After several days, we all arrived and immediately set forth for Tir Weft and then overland towards the mountains.  We had been given word in Tir Weft that caravans to or from Halswood were not making it through.  It only took a few days of travel to find out why.  As we traveled we came across several wagons whose porters and drivers were, for lack of better descriptions, dissolved.  A short bit of study later, I had determined that it was some sort of naturally produced acid that had eaten these poor souls.  It did not take much longer to find the source of this acid.

Springing from the ground near the roadway as we passed were four enourmous insectile creatures.  Known as ankhegs, these beasts are fiercely territorial and very capable of making that defense.  However, my companions are more than capable of defending ourselves as well.  It took only a few moments to slay the creatures.  Remembering from my cryptoanatomy, I had Rath extract the acid glands from the ankhegs.  I wanted to save a carapace from which to craft some armor, but, as I would have needed someone else to carry the carcass for me, I was turned down.

We traveled on to Halswood, which was a rather backwater town.  Ruled by druids and barbarians, they saw little need for the modern fineries that I had been used to in Barloz and even in the years since my flight.  I was getting more used to sleeping on the ground and eating from a campfire, but there are times when my back longs for a down mattress.  Halswood offered us its finest, but straw is a poor substitute for goose down.

In the morning, Hal appraised us of the situation at hand.  For reasons he was not fully certain of, an ancient beast had somehow returned to the lake on which his city rested.  Prior to the establishment of Halswood, the lake near Eriad was home to immense sharks known as megalodons.  Hal had a hand is destroying their threat and making the lake safe for his people.  Recently, however, they had returned.  He wished us to investigate.

After some discussion, we concluded that the only way to really test the situation was to actually immerse ourselves in it.  So we were offered a vessel and we cast off fromt the city hoping to find the dire sharks.  It did not take us long to find one.  Rather, it did not take long for one of them to find us.  It attacked the raft and nearly capsized it.  After a fierce, if halted, battle, we were able to drive the creature back to the deep of the lake.  Feeling that we must be on the right track, it was decided that we should press on.

We were soon beset by a coven of sea hags.  The green witches attacked our split group.  The first unholy trio waged combat on the warriors.  Unable to quickly dispatch them, Alder was cursed by the evil eye.  A second group of the sea hags had crawled into the raft where the casters and Braden were.  The fighter was able to hold them at bay long enough for our magicks to bring the witches to rest.  On the bodies of those who had remained on deck, we collected three enchanted necklaces.  After some careful study, we determined that these periapts gave the hags control over the minds of their companion megalodons.  This was a power that we could not let go to waste.

Wounded and with damaged ships, we returned to Halswood to bring news.  We had learned how to use the necklaces and had formed a plan.  We would use the sharks to explore and discover how the problems in the lake had arisen.  Upon our arrival in Halswood, however, we were appraised of a new threat.  Something was living in Eriad.

Nothing humanoid had inhabited the ruins for over 800 years and the destroyed city was explored less than 50 years ago and determined to be too dangerous for inhabitation.  Hal’s son Barret had reported seeing campfires and movement in the ruins.  Something sentient was living in the ruins and that could not be good for Halswood or the Kingdoms.  We were asked to further investigate.  Our empathic links with the sharks through the pendants had revealed to us that the megalodons and the hags had been driven to this lake and that they were afraid of something living near the ruins of Eriad.

Given a new craft, we set out for Eriad under cover of night, hoping to arrive by morning and retain some element of surprise.  Part of the way across the lake, the sharks had begun to become nervous.  Moments later an incredible beast breached the surface and tore through our towed raft.  This creature was, in form, like a swamp turtle but its proportions were grossly exagerated.  It had a head the size of a trade wagon, not to even mention the size of the body.  We had been given enough warning through the sharks to defeat the dragon turtle with a mixture of archery and coordinated attacks from the dire sharks.

We limped into Eriad feeling that we couldn’t risk the loss of surprise.  We docked and entered the ruined city.  We had not even all deshipped before we were set upon by archers.  These fighters proved quickly to be a small threat.  We dispatched them and found them to be Jarls of the Redstone Spur.  They were clad in white and blue, however, instead of the traditional red.  The air in ruins had taken on a supernaturally cold fog as well.  Things were not adding up even for me.

We ventured further, on information gleaned from one of the captured Jarls, and found an ancient temple of Archgate.  Credit to its artisans, the millenia old structure was still standing and in very good condition.  Knowing that was where the rest of the Jarls had holed themselves, we took refuge in a ruined temple to Bors and Shyla.  We were able to make it through the night and in the morning prepared ourselves to attack.  We had seen more archers in the temple of Archgate so, rather than assault the ruins directly, we planned to force them to come to us.

As carefully hidden as possible, we prepared missile weapons for the first unfortunate soul to set himself in range.  After a few minutes, when our resolve was about to break, one stepped forth and we brought him low.  Moments later, another.  Then a third.  Two rogues tried to sneak up to us from the east and full battle was soon waged.  Through combined might of archery and magic, we neutralized the minions.  We had thought things to be going well when a storm brewed and lighting began to strike at our party.

A fierce druid made himself visible and began to cause nature itself to attack us.  Moments later our fate worsened.  A great white wyrm rose out of the ruins and began to strafe us with this searingly cold breath.  Part of us tried to hold off the druid while those more capable with their weapons tried to drive off the dragon.  In terrible sweeping passes, the dragon’s cold bit into our bodies as Alder and Braden tried to pierce its hide with their swords.  Two, three and four passes it made, each time sustaining wounds from our warriors.  As it tried to flee, Braden fired a single parting shot.  The arrow struck home and the beast crashed into the temple.  We had also managed to kill the druid, though he had done well to attempt the same on us.

Our imprisoned rogues revealed to us that Fagin, the druiud who lead them, was attempting to establish a new division of the Dragon Jarls, united under his white dragon companion.  They also told us that they were expecting an envoy to arrive in the city the next day.  We knew that we needed to intercept whoever it was and whatever they were bringing.  Anyone dealing with the Jarls was an enemy of the Kingdoms.

The next day we attempted to bluff the caravan that arrived into divulging its purpose and origin.  But luck was not with us and we had attempted to fool the kings of lies.  A pair of snakemen revealed themselves and began to attack.  We barely had time to react before a great beast erupted from the back of their wagon.  Some sort of serpentine abomination the size of an ogre leapt from under a canvas blanket and tried to rend our party with its powerful claws.  We were able to bring the three of them down after a short time, though it was no simple task.

Learning that the snakemen had allied themselves with the Redstone Spur was troubling news.  We immediately returned to Halswood to inform Hal of this and then we were to return to our various kingdoms to disseminate the information.  Having no home anymore, I decided to further my research and traveled here to Arcada.

Of my research, I have learned much.  I have further expanded the number of spells I can craft in a day and I have further explored the text of the Book.  It seems that its ancient writer had been doing much as I am now.  The opening passages of the book are what unlocked my mind to this power, but the remaining passages detail the experiences of its original wielder.  The man (or woman, the text is unclear) had been from the lands now under the control of Manath.  He or she had been a follower of the elemental gods with specific devotion to Cheleria.  He (or she) had chosen to write the text in Arcane Naduumian to try to keep it secret from the other priests, which leads me to believe the text is actually of Skosian origin.

I spend each day reading the opening text of the book, to renew my mind with the powers contained within.  Several weeks ago I began to have a suspicion that the text itself was shifting, changing.  So I decided to test this.  As best as I was able, I copied down the opening page with quill and ink.  The next morning I compared the texts and they were, in fact, different.  Only slightly, but different nonetheless.  I tried it again, to rule out the possibility that I had made an error in my transciption.  I had not.  The text was changing.  What it is changing into, I know not.  I do suspect, however, that this is the key to the expansion of my abilities.  Further study is still needed, but I suspect that it will not be long before duty to my companions calls me away.

-M.E.

Halswood was indeed under threat – allies of the Redstone Spur threatened the town.  As you know, Halswood sits on the southern shore of a vast, clear, cold mountain lake, which was once the home of terrible predatory monsters until they were all hunted down by Rhenic some years ago.  At first it seemed merely as if the monsters had returned – but it was more than that.  Great grey fish with massive teeth were again loose in the lake, but they were controlled – by a coven of hags who dwelled in the waters with them.

Worse, Mauril and Athelas determined that these were creatures of the open sea – that had been brought here by some means still unknown to us.  Something more was going on – and we suspected it was going on in the ancient runs of Eriad, on the north shore of the lake.

Our attempts to travel there ended in battle with the hags and their minions.  We managed to defeat the horrible witches, and in doing so, we stole the magics they were using to control the sea monsters.  Using the weapon of the enemy against them, we were able to defeat the largest, strongest guardian set before the shores of Eriad – a massive dragon turtle.

That overcome, we docked out battered ship and scouted Eriad.  Instantly we were set upon by Jarls – soldiers in the service of Redstone – but these Jarls were different; younger and clad in blues instead of reds.  Though the fight was harrowing, we drove off or killed the Jarls – and took a prisoner.

Our captive – little more than a boy – told us there were more of his kind in the ruins, and that they were merely scouts for a larger force.  We resolved to destroy this scouting force utterly, in the hopes that any following force would deem Eriad unsafe, and turn elsewhere.

We approached the stronghold of the Jarls – an ancient temple of Archgate, still standing when all about it was tumbling down.  Knowing we were outnumbered and forewarned that a Druid was leading the Jarl force, we attacked from concealment with Longbows, attempting to whittle down the numbers of our foes.

The Druid replied with lightning from the skies.  We countered, killing more of his men.  The battle grew heated – and the enemy attacked with his most powerful force – a white Dragon.  She was considerably smaller than the great beasts which besiege Tir Castellan, perhaps twenty feet nose-to-tail, but even such a modestly sized creature is a great threat.  The ruins helped us greatly, as did my study and training – knowing that Dragons besiege my home, I have spent the last months seeking out all I can learn about slaying such creatures.  This knowledge and the bravery of my comrades allowed us to strike the beast from the skies – and slay its Druidic master.

The scouting force was wiped out – the Druid slain, his attempt at building a northern version of the Redstone Spur crushed – barely.

I traveled from Halswood to Queen’s Landing, where I am moving my War Griffons-in-training.  With Baron Caig’s permission I am establishing a Ranger station down the coast from Queen’s Landing to train my mounts – as I have accepted a Knight-Leftenant’s commission in the Aruthien army and am now responsibly to raise and lead a company of Rangers.  With Tir Castellan besieged, I know serving my Kingdom is my duty.  I hope in good time I am able to come against the enemies of our home alongside you and father.

in the meantime, I am well – though another message has arrived, warning of some trouble in Caliban.  I suspect I will again be sent abroad on the Kingdom’s business.

The second conclusion that my time in these dank walls has brought me to is that I want more of it.  There is nothing in this world, or any other, that I could possibly desire more than the knowledge contained within this book I carry with me.  But first, I must recount my journey to this point.

After escaping the seige, I spent my days studying in Newholm.  I had desired to study the exclusive knowledges contained within the libraries there as well as testing the abilities I had unlocked.  Even the simplest casting of a spell brought chills to my spine.  When I received word from Holly that my help was needed, I jumped at the chance.  My life had changed much over the year since my exodus from Firforge.

I joined my companions not far from the Spaarthan city of Salynndra.  They too had been informed of disturbances in the area and had come to investigate.  When informed that Holly needed help, we agreed to enter the city and begin a search.  Her message was vague, but word in the city lead us to believe that the increased pirate activity was likely linked.  There is, for those who do not know, a great diviners’ college near Salynndra.  We decided that our best option was to seek clues there.

We sat down with a young acolyte who gave us very little useful information.  That is, until we returned to out inn to discover a note which indicated that things were not as they seemed in the school of seers.  We returned and were able to surmise that Holly was captured there along with several other wizards, while the sorcerers who inhabit the college had been kidnapped and taken elsewhere.

After some brief action which had blood coursing through my veins, we subdued the captors and freed the wizards.  We then went out to discover that the source of the increased pirate activity and the capture of the sorcerers was in a lake in the Tantathian March.  This had us all very puzzled but we agreed that something needed to be done.  So we messaged various authorities of the incident and set out to Lake Fum to follow the intriguing leads we had.

After many days at sea, we arrived in Tir Arnoth and immediately started our journey southeast to the lake.  On the road we stumbled upon a house that we determined should not be there.  We entered to find a man who claimed to be the Fire King, something of an elemental prince or guardinal.  To this day, I am still not sure who or what he was but he knew things about me that he should not have known, which made me more than uncomfortable.  He also entrusted me with mineral nugget deeply steeped in layers of magic.  He said it would right the wrongs of the past.  What wrongs, he did not specify.

I didn’t, and on some levels still don’t, trust him but I took the stone and we journeyed on towards the lake.  Long ago, this lake had been a mountain but catastrophic events not only destroyed the mountain but created a crater that became the lake.  The creature who had called himself the Fire King had said that taking the stone to the right spot in the lake would make things right again.

We set camp that night only to find a group of zombies marching into the lake.  This had me curious and I, with the protection of Alder, went to investigate.  In our absence, Holly – who had all this time been an impostor – escaped with the stone.  We did not discover this until it was too late and no trace of her could be found.  We did, however, find more zombies and the real Holly.  We liberated her and a few more wizards and made our way to the center of the lake.  We knew that the impostor planned to use the stone and we believed it to only work in one place.

We arrive to find her ritual almost complete.  Through the effort of the warriors, she was stopped and the stone recovered.  Most of the wards had been removed from it.  We had surmised that the stone would bring back the lost mountain.  It appeared that the false Flen had planned to do that very thing.  Having stripped the wards, doing so would have immediately bring back the lost mountain, emptying the lake into the surrounding plain, downing or crushing everything for miles.  Also, it would immediately kill us, should we have chosen to activate it.

Rath agreed to ferry the stone back to its creator to see if it could be repaired.  He returned to tell us that it would take a year to fix the magicks but that the crisis involving the other plane was over for now.  There was little more that we could do, so we parted ways.

I decided to come here, to Perdaith, to continue my studies and my experiments.  My studies had gone well but I believe my experiments have only increased my addiction to the knowledge that burns through my limbs with each spell I cast.  As I said in my first entries, I believe that this power will be my eventual downfall.  Now I also believe that I will find that downfall out of my own lust for the energy that both danger and this magic brings me.  I believe, much to my chagrin, that I have become a true adventurer.

-M.E.

In Tir Ezion I took the small fortune I had earned and invested in War Griffons – six to be exact.  Hatchlings now, but growing and training with the Rystars of Spaartha.  I’ve spent many months there, training the Griffons and being trained myself.

War Griffons seemed a wise idea, with four great Dragons threatening Tir Castellan.  I know full well I lack the skill and fortitude to face such ancient beasts – at present.  But like all my companions, we train and study for the day when we face the great wyrms in battle.  With trained mounts, we could face them in the air, where the Rystars tell me Dragons are clumsy fliers.

Nonetheless, after months of training, a letter came from Holly, the Flen Wizard who had trekked with us across Bravenland in pursuit of the snakemen spies.  She was in some kind of trouble, and had taken pains to conceal it – her letter was written in a code only the snakemen used – a trick which she knew that Mauril the archivist could certainly unravel.  We gathered together again from the far countries where we had scattered, and went seeking Holly.

Having no good place to begin, we traveled to Valeska, to the Diviner’s College there.  Here we paid for scrying – not only in the search for Holly, but also in combating the pirates who had been raiding the Spaarthan coast of late.  As you well know, the Kingdom navies are tasked beyond their capacity these last few months, sailing convoys of troops to Caliban to fight the armies of Manath, and sailing other legions to Bravenland to aid in the war with the Redstone Spur.  It was no surprise then that buccaneers would take advantage of the opportunity.

What was strange were the abductions – these pirates weren’t taking loot, they were taking men.  So we scryed upon them as well – and found little.

However, it soon became clear that all was not well at the school of Diviners.  Being a Ranger has some advantages – I might not know when someone is lying, but I can tell when things are being hidden.

We left the Diviner’s College, discussed our clues – and returned and launched a rapid assault under the cover of Mauril’s silence spell.  We slew the guards and those Wizards who were keeping the rest in bondage – and liberated Holly and the rest of the students who were being held hostage here.

This was not the end of the quest; the grateful Diviners showed us what we needed to know about the mysterious pirates – apparently they were coming from Lake Fum in Tantathia.  This seemed impossible – as the lake is landlocked – but we resolved to go and investigate.

The wilds of the Tantathian March were warmer than we had left them in winter – spring had come to the land.  We scarcely paused to enjoy it, traveling fast down the Kingdom high road.

During our travel we came upon a strange house – which I am sure was never near that road before.  Upon closer investigation, we met the occupant – a strange being claiming to be the ‘Fire King’ – an ancient being who had dwelled in these lands for many centuries.

He claimed to have a solution to our problem.  Raiders were coming through some kind of portal which had torn open above Lake Fum – where an ancient portal had once existed before Mount Fum had blown itself apart and become Lake Fum.  Apparently, this weak point was allowing these extraplanar raiders to attack us.

I was not entirely convinced of the ‘Fire King’ and his story, but it fit with the facts, so we investigated.  Mauril was armed with a strange magical device that the King claimed would slowly regrow the mountain, closing the portal.

We traveled on, finally discovering the portal in the lake.  We fought the interlopers and drove them back through the portal – but the magical device was damaged in the battle, and we couldn’t raise the mountain.  We left a guard on the portal and returned the device.  The Fire King claims he will repair it, and the mountain will be raised again.  We shall see – meanwhile, the raids have stopped, and Spaartha is returning to health.

With that emergency dealt with, I returned to training Griffons in Tir Ezion – until your next letter reached me.

The group was able to broker passage to Queen’s Landing, where we had believed our quarry to have fled.  Though many of us believed it folly, we had few other options.  We arrived in the city only to discover that our pair of maidens turned assassins had split up and fled in opposite directions: one south by ship and one north by road.  They had forced our hands, or rather the hands of those felt honor bound to bring both to justice.  I had become more than curious as to who these women might be.  They were certainly not form any of the common races.  Their very existence had become a puzzle that I desired to solve.  I cared not which we followed but the more seasoned warriors decided that north was our best option.

We chased her and her companions (who she seemed to have picked up in Queen’s Landing) for several days.  We believed her headed for Duke Vladir, but for what purpose, we did not know.  I spent much of the chase trying to search my memories for scraps of clues that might lead me to understanding the origin and purpose of our mysterious assassins.  I was able to ascertain neither her race nor her reason for wanting to incite open war between Barloz and Aruthien.  Stirred from my musings, Rath (our wildland guide) informed us that the group we were pursuing had veered off the road and into the ogre infested Toth Badlands.

I was very reluctant to follow her through that wild country but I was more reluctant to leave the safety of the swords my companions wielded.  It was not long before my fears were justified.  We were ambushed by a quartet of ogres.  I will be the first (and maybe only) to say that it was a harrowing experience.  More than one of us were nearly brought low by the hulking beasts.  When they had been defeated, the warriors re-initiated the pursuit.  Once again I followed because it was more dangerous to try to return than to continue deeper in.  For my own mental safety, I returned to my thoughts trying to distract myself from my surroundings as much as I was able.  I pondered my slowly unfolding abilities and decided that I should begin true experiments on myself to find the limits of my abilities.

After several more days of pursuit, we were approached by the woman’s bodyguards.  They were a number equaling our own but likely besting us in skill.  They had been hired to make sure that we did not interfere with the lady’s quest.  My companions were set on doing just that.  In this instance coin, not sword blows, were exchanged and we were escorted north back to the road.  These fellows had agreed to carry on with us as far as the camp of Duke Vladir.  Men are too corruptible.  I do not limit this to humans either, but all manner of creatures.  Never do I trust a man working for gold.  These mercenaries, however, proved loyal enough and did never turn on us.

We were not, however, safe for the remainder of the journey.  We had set in to camp one night after reaching the road but a day from the Caspan Legion when we were raided by bugbears while we slept.  Their shaman rendered some of us ineffective immediately and the state of our unreadiness rendered the rest nearly so.  The fight was short and the cretins were able to escape with their lives and many of our things.  At dawn, while studied my prayerbook, the two footpads and the tracker, along with the Flenness, sought out the bugbear nest and the return of their things.  After a few hours they returned with the entire colony boiling out of their holes behind them.  Thankfully our horses were capable of outpacing them to the fort which guards the northern pass.

We entered the military encampment there and discovered that our assassin was in the company of a priest and that they had continued northward.  We were invited to sit with Duke Vladir, though I believe that it was more for his benefit than ours.  A scrupulous and calculating man, the duke waited for us to inform him as to the events which brought us to his camp.  While those more intimately involved with the events and the general related the circumstances, I offered my cartographical services to the chief wizard who was in the process of stitching together a map of the regions.  Some of the details were no longer accurate, but the maps were very well made and were some of the most detailed that I had seen in many years.

Upon the rising of the sun, we set ourselves once again on the trail of our quarry.  My interest in her had become quite piqued when we realized that she had headed into Jotunn territory.  What a creature of her type – subtle and conniving – had to do with the Frost Giants and their barbaric followers, we did not know.  We did know that whatever it was it could not be good.  The Jotunn were long enemies of the kingdoms and if they had begun to brew war between Aruthien and Barloz, something catastrophic was about to happen.

We had nearly reached the Vigabrock, home of the Sabercat Jotunn, when we were again ambushed.  Traveling is ever perilous it seems.  A sorceress and a half dozen archers waylaid us in a forest path.  She and a few of her men were able to escape.  Rath had found trace of them earlier and the markings on their weapons were unknown to us.  They had killed the priest who had ventured with our pursued.  We left the escapees to their own schemes (not that I had any desire to do otherwise) and picked our way to the Jotunn city.

I am still not sure exactly how we were able to sneak our way into the city.  The barbarians are none too bright, I suppose.  We had determined that the assassin was in the city and began a search for her.  We found our way to the merchant bazaar where a duergar and a bronze elf were selling weapons and information.  I was more interested in the latter and struck a bargain with the elf (to the glares of some of my companions).  I gave him information that would soon be common knowledge in trade for information on the whereabouts of our target.  Also, I purchased a severed, shrunken troll head.  I do not know why I did this, but I have kept it fastened to my belt since that day.  I have it with me even now.

The bronze elf informed me that the woman was hiding in the temple district and we proceeded to confront her.  I am not sure what we planned to accomplish by going down there.  We should have known that she wouldn’t give anything and would likely fight or continue to flee.  All these she did.  After a foolish chase between temple colonnades, the warriors cut her down.  If not for a frost giant priestess and her divinely granted ability to speak with the dead, we would have extracted little from her more than vengeance.  We discovered that she was a creature known as a yuan-ti, a snake-like humanoid, and we were able to collect a list of what we believed to be other assassination targets.  We left the Vigabrock with haste and returned to the fort in the pass.  We informed Vladir of the plans we had found, as his name was on the list of targets, and journeyed to Tir Castellan.

Upon arrival in the city, I headed straight to the library-templ of Mishya to find any and all information I could on the yuan-ti, their culture, history and potential purposes for wanting to begin a war in the kingdoms.  I wish that I could have spent the rest of my days in that library.  Though it was yet unfinished, it contained a wealth of knowledge greater than I could have ever imagined.  Even if the events that soon transpired had not, news from my former temple in Barloz would eventually reach their ears and I would once again be forced to flee.  I do one day hope to return and explore that temple to the mind.

I was first stripped from my Elysium by my companions.  They discovered a wizard, Havlan, who had connections with the yuan-ti and they desired to question him.  He owned and ran a potion shop in the city.  Again, I should have known better but I remained silent while the swordsmen hatched a plan.  I was nearly taken to the green fields within moments of bursting through the door and only know that the wizard and his bodyguard were able to escape.  Havlan obviously knew what was coming, which was the second thing to drag me away from the place of sacred knowledge: the Jarls.

The Jarls, for those fortunate enough to have not experienced them, are tribes of barbarians who follow dragons.  In this case, two ancient red dragons, Groldern and Sorcheena.  They had marched from the sea, it seems, and had begun to siege the city.  We were standing on the balcony with Cas when the first beast struck.  I am not too proud to say that I cowed in fear at its very presence.  There was nothing for those who had the will to stand to do against these terrible creatures.

At Cas’s behest, we escaped the city and informed Duke Vladir of the plight of Tir Castellan.  We then journeyed on to Queen’s Landing before parting ways and returning to our various homes.  Having no place to call home, I have come to Newholm and lost myself in their libraries.  I have set about three things: further study of the yuan-ti, further study of the Jarls and the dragons they follow and further study of my new powers and abilities.  This city seems primly suited for the second and I am resolved to spending what spare time I have to deciphering and learning the yuan-ti language.

As for my abilities, I do not know yet what they have become.  I have learned that I am not constrained to only the spells of a Mishyan priest, nor even to clerics alone but rather to any who call upon the gods to grant them the ability to manipulate the world.  My body still surges with a mixture of pleasure and anguish each time I tap into the raw divine.  I am not sure if I ever want that sensation to cease either.

I must return to my studies.  I do not know how long I will have here, as I suspect that my companions will call upon me again soon.  The yuan-ti have infiltrated more than we had believed and are connected both with Manath and some nebulous “other power”.  Their agents have infiltrated all of the kingdoms and now that their plans have been set into motion, I do not suspect that it will be long before their next stage rises to the surface.

-M.E.

Much has happened since my last entry. More than I believed possible for one such as myself to live through. It started not moments after setting down this journal the last time. The group had all chosen to introduce themselves and some attempted to guile the barmaids into lessening themselves when a small human child burst through the door in a swirl of snow and biting wind. He said that his caravan was lost in the blizzard and they needed help. One by one all the rest gathered their armor, weapons and sundry other adventuring items. I had no desire to join them as I was naught more than a scribe, since my powers were largely untested.

I still don’t fully understand what possessed me to join them, but I followed them out into the snow. We trudged for hours through the chest deep snow searching for the caravan. We found them and wolves. I do not like wolves, or anything with fangs and claws for that matter.

I cannot say that it was a simple endeavor to save the two men we found from the wolves. The swordsmen were barely the match of the beasts and were it not for the other divine persons invoking the powers divine to save them. That night was the first time I had ever cast a spell under duress. I have to admit (though I would never to my companions) that it was exhilarating. The surge of adrenaline and deific power was incredible. The others seemed to not be phased by the combat as they almost gleefully charged in to face the beasts. Even the tiny bard leapt in with his rapier.

We saved the caravan, who turned out to be an Aruthien diplomat on his way to Barloz. We were able to escort him back to the inn and I went to my room to ponder the preceding events. I had invoked the divine without prayer and I had looked into the inner workings of the wolves and understood them. I understood them so well that my companions were better able to fight them. I meditated for hours before the others turned in.

I was woken with a start to shouts from down the halls. I stumbled from my bed to see the emissary’s room engulfed in flames. Some of the more foolhardy fellows charged through the door to attack an abyssal hound. It was quickly dispatched and with equal rapidity they discovered that the diplomat had also been dispatched. They rescued the diplomatic missives and a golden orb. I since discovered the purpose of this device. It contains the truename of the dismissed hell hound.

The bard had raced downstairs and by the time we came to him he had been nearly eviscerated by what we surmised to be the two barmaids he had been soliciting the night before. The one who had introduced himself as Alder charged after the tracks lefts by the women while myself and others searched the room for clues. They were in disguise and were, to our understanding, not of any humanoid type of which we were aware.

My curiosity overcame my good sense and I have followed these ruffians to Tantathia. Curiosity as to who these women were and how they had come into possession of the truename of the demonic dog; moreso I was curious as to what I was now capable. What new powers would I discover? What new doom could I bring upon myself? Time will only tell. For now, I rest in an inn waiting for morning where I will teleport to Queen’s Landing to continue our pursuit of these women.

-M.E.