Treatise

The navigator spends the rest of Freeday the 7th of Readying contemplating the purpose of his gifts and magic, that evening he began his treatise on high and low magic, that will become one of the more influential texts on the subject, used by jurists to establish Keolish Law on some delicate, previously secret matters.



I had promised Billet Perry my own treatise and theorem on 'good' and 'evil' magic, thoughts on orthodoxy, heresy, woe and weal in magic to help some council looking at the matter from a position of jurisprudence to determine how those like myself might be viewed by rightful authority.

Originally I believed I would be able to make a strong case for a legal framework on magical ritual and powers. I had divided magic into high and low orders of magic separated by intention. I have wrestled with determining intention, especially in the case of my bodyguard.

When I first encountered my friend, he was bent on murdering my fellows, companions on a quest for the crown – rightful authority of this land, to protect and rescue survivors of territory now occupied by the enemy. My friend came from their ranks. He charged them and I used what should always be considered low magic to bind him to me. I did not exhort the gods to grant me a binding, I simply manipulated the keys to the god’s powers through magical knowledge, borrowing or stealing their power for my own intention. It seems though that there may be yet a hint of divine control, will or intent, one cannot it seems totally discount the gods.

My intentions were to take this bound creature and use him to surprise and destroy his former allies who would not suspect him, and to stop him from killing my own people. He was expected to die bound to my will. He did not die however; he lived on and continued traveling with me, endearing him to me. I planned then to rob him and send him on a suicide mission to deliver a message to his former masters; this was my will until the gods interfered.

He turned to the church of the Cuthbertines and became reborn taking for himself a new name and finding acceptance amongst them even honor and adulation. He was a changed man. The binding was broken and he had remained of his own will having found he claimed a new self and enjoyable life, gentle and kind people to share his life with and a home worth protection. I might have doubted his rebirth if not for what happened on the road.

There again we found ourselves in a fight for our lives together. He was suffering the brunt of the enemies force and I had expected instinct and rage to over take him. But he was brought to a halt, a momentary pause. I urged him forward to strike a helpless foe, unconcerned was I with honor then, but he seemed to believe that he was being guided to perhaps have mercy. He was conflicted about striking the defenseless hybrid monsters of the Pomarj. He did not put me at risk in this, only himself. He prevailed once the enemy turned his attention back to him and instinct took over.

I used my own magic in what I believed to be a high manner, to defend us from charging monsters. But when the fight was over we discovered we had only killed a family, a male, a female and an infant or juvenile giant monster, this troubled me as these were creatures bred like my friend, and taught to work or fight for the evil masters of the Orcish Empire. They may only have been seeking to escape war and bondage but I killed them.

My friend might have found a better way for us, and them. I did not let it happen. What god and what intention then would pronounce judgments on my actions? Would the court at Niole Dra hold my actions just in binding my bodyguard? And if I had robbed him and sent him off to die? Would they judge me an evil ally of the Orcish Empire for bringing this warrior who was a chief of an enemy tribe to our lands? Is the murder of the slave monster child a stain on my honor though it will likely serve the long term security interests of the Uleki and Keoish people?

I decided that I could not offer a treatise on high or low magic, good or evil. There are few ways to concretely discern one from the other. One cannot judge intentions, as outcomes are often not what were intended. My body guard may yet be a pawn of the enemy, my taking mercy on him might be the will of Gruumsh or it might be the hand of Cuthbert, and serve a greater purpose. I cannot claim to have used the powers of the gods without their consent though I did not exhort them for aide as a priest does, no wizard then should then be outlaw in these lands.

Let him be judged then by his actions. What he does with his magic within his control. Let murder be murder be it by poison, sword, sling, and bow or spells that command fire from the sky. That there should be some acts of magic some knowledge forbidden then to men; magic from which no good can come?

Indeed I must admit there are some actions reprehensible to me and most I would say should be forbidden simply to know, teach or keep. Animating the dead renders the spirits of the departed in a tortured state, and is thus most vile and evil. It destroys their souls and corrupts them and the undead wish only to work to devour the living. What good can come from this? There may be other acts or miracles that I do not yet know that I shall discover in time and I will continue my treatise based on those findings.

For now I am happy to have learned that those creatures we discovered on the road to Havenhill were causing some trouble for the Shirefolk of Nob. I would rest easier oddly knowing they had murdered and that their painful deaths at my hands were more justified. Right now I feel ill and am wracked with guilt; haunted by the overwhelming full sensory memory of the previous day. I am concerned too that my callous disregard for life different from my own matrix, and more akin to my bodyguards may have put him off a bit. Made him question my nature, I must endeavor to redeem myself in his eyes to be right with my own heart.

And I am left with a question; what for then my powers? What is his will that has remained hidden but obviously so? Am I a force for entropy, chaos and destruction or can I retain my own gentle nature I so much preferred before these events? Is the magic making me an enemy of men as well as monster? Am I a creature not unlike the Sarge, made of something else that beyond the laws of man?

Wins and Losses

(Freeday, 7 Readying)

Upon reaching Haven Hill I was astounded to find a messenger bringing word from home. It was in a bundle of records I had requested from a Cuthbertine friend at Gryax to help me settle a bet with Billet Perry. When I opened the package my enthusiasm quickly faded, what had looked like a letter from home included in the records was instead a private and intimate letter from the Matriarch of some place called Aegis Pass to her husband in the D. of Ulek.

I of course read the letter hoping there was in fact some clue for me inside, and I checked the letter by fire and moonlight for secret inking. Nothing of the sort was to found and the letter appeared authentic. The letter described the high priestess' joy at having been gifted an elixir of youth which apparently restored her fertility, allowing her to proudly announce that she was with child.

I found another messenger and forwarded the letter with an addendum, and apology for having delayed and opened the letter. I had my apprentice select a small gift for the expectant father and wished them both luck.

The collection of letters and records I received with the letter I mistook for word from my eldest brother Noah, proved that I was of course wrong and Billet Perry was right. I sent along a brief letter with the records I had ordered up for his study and sent along the prize which he had won; a single copper, as it was only a gentleman’s bet between friends.

Drums and Shadows in the Fog

Readying the 1st, Starday.

This morning I awoke with a grim resolve, to behold a morning fog that has followed me from my dream. Once more the enemy is on the move, but in my dream I stood with the hated T Mak facing the west, on a hillock above a low fog that concealed a phalanx of hobgoblins marching against a great orc chief wielding the Father of Woes which I know to have been destroyed.

I would have dismissed this as only a dream but for the fog, of same peculiar hue, spilling in through yonder open window. The house is empty and the world is unnaturally silent. I have no energy this day as I ponder the journey set to begin today I consider postponing it to consult an oracle.

As I dress I notice a tiny gift tied up with a golden ribbon on my makeshift secretary. A small note on pulp parchment written in haste reads “With gratitude and wishes for a safe journey, N.” in the tiny package are two chocolate coins from Urnst, stamped with the royal device. I wonder where she found these and suddenly the day is new, the dream all but forgotten and there is a song outside of some small bird she doubtless could name.

I find new energy as I enjoy one of the coins; saving the other for later should my strength falter. I draw on my pipe while waiting for the tea to steep and enjoy it with a bit of honey biscuit before riding off making sure to wake Zil who responds in his customary way – threats to behead whoever it is that disturbs him at this late hour. I laugh and remind him I shall return in several weeks. He wishes me well in his way muttering something about bad garbage which I attribute to the empty cask beside him.

When I arrive at the small rude chapel that Gallon has been calling home of late, the fog lifts completely and I am filled with a sense of triumphant joy in anticipation of riding with my friend again. We stop at Chandler’s where I met that olven botanist for a meal and to give Gallon a rest. I’ve been picking his brain all day for news all the details of his new life.

Setback and Escape

Godsday, 4th Fireseek

I would not have predicted that restoration of this ruined round shell keep would have offended the dwur nobles of this territory, completely devoid of any forifications for defence along what is now the intimate frontier of the enemies lands. I must be careful while the regent and the nobles decide how to handle this matter. In the meantime I have asked the TBlood clansmen whom reside here at the Fort, and constitute it's garrison to take possession of it and represent me while I take my leave of this foolishness.

I will be traveling to the coast once more, I have been told that there is a ship I know put in at the capitol for repairs. I will send another post home aboard her, and see if there is news or word from home in response to my last batch of letters.

Ms. Liepzig has fallen ill again, I suspect allergies to something in the kitchen by now and have instructed the place to be turned over until the offending victules are discovered. Two cases of high country summer wine destroyed by 'accident' in the process. I suspect some manner of shadow commerce may be to blame, more than butter fingers.

Critique

The navigator, while wintering over in Ulek had taken on an assistant or apprentice. While many of the navigators early traveling companions remain anonymous for their protection, this assistant is revealed through a copy of a letter found amongst the navigators papers from this period. The letter is from the assistant, identified as 'N' to a friend identified only as 'F'. The letter includes a blistering critique of the navigator’s personality and ability as a wizard but his reaction to this otherwise invisible character from his history is unclear.

Dearest F (unintelligible),

It is with great urgency I dispatch this letter for I fear that I have become a witness to madness and wish in the sharing of the burden of knowing to lighten the weight bearing on my spirit. I had believed that this trip away might afford me some opportunity to continue on my appointed path and allow me to return quickly. Regrettably, father's well intentioned efforts have sealed my doom, but do not blame him -he only wants for my happiness.

The noble wizard to whom my education has been entrusted has only been recently knighted (under questionable circumstance) and he is in reality an orphan of no account, and a seaman by trade! Certainly he is handsome and dashing but he is also a fool, and may even have been a pyrate!

In a recent trip this winter to the coast, we spent three days and countless coin provisioning an orphanage (the issue of criminals, pyrates and worse). I would not begrudge a rightful bit of charity, but the master knows much of the wood, food and clothing will be stolen and resold by the local rogues and the children will only continue to suffer. When I explained this to him he ignored me on our way to an even more expensive undertaking.

In the public square, he had hired a crier to issue a proclamation offering amnesty from taxation for any craftsmen who would relocate to his keep to help in its outfitting, and apprentice one of the orphans. Think of that, no taxes would mean the master would be responsible to the crown for the a thousand pounds of silver annually! The recruiting trip for workmen was wildly successful, and now he's planning a fund raising trip to pay for his charity. This would be a simple matter of petitioning a few wealthy patrons for aid if he were a proper knight ennobled at birth, but the master has other plans.

He has begun instructing me in self defense and special tactical employment of the magic he has yet to give me. I fear I may meet my end on this next trip despite his reassurances to the contrary. He has enlisted the help of a companion who appears wholly to be one of the enemy whom I am afraid even to look upon.

This has not diminished my will to carry on, only my hope of finding success and a way back to you. If I fail in satisfying the master, you may not hear from me again, if I find success I fear, he will send me again into the crucible and for fathers honor I dare not refuse.

Yours,

N

The Coming of Spring

The Navigator made a trip to the coast to celebrate the end of winter with friends there. He made some detailed notes about preparations for the trip which show he traveled with at least three unnamed companions. The surviving journal fragments from this trip are in being restored and preserved in the archives. The display here is the only surviving intact journal entry from the trip.

The early onset of the melt, typical of the Sheldomar I'm told, is a terrific relief. The weather threatened to undo much of the progress we made in the fall. The enemy too is thawing and before I face them I've decided to take part in some early spring festivities. On the way our path was crossed by a most foolish thief who attempted to abscond with my mount, and much of our supplies, including my books.

My business colleague and the Srg. we're able to locate the scoundrel we recovered our equipment. The thief was sent on his way, with only a minor drubbing for his trouble, courtesy of the Srg.

At the coast, the festivities were most splendid in light of the recent hostilities. I made it a priority to do no work on this journey and have succedded beyond all expectations. I have been able to locate a suitable gift for the Srg. to repay him for all the work he has done to make this trip work, I do hope he likes it.

Eureka!

This is a short hand written note included in this periods collection showing that the Navigator did not abandon magical research during this time and very well may have had some help.

Churchill has on more than one occassion saved my life, that of my comrades and allowed us to find success in our most recent campaing in the R'marche. However, I was concerned with some of his limitations in escaping some hazards. For example during the storm in which our battle concluded, he very well could have drowned. Were he a different manner of creature; toad, tortise or fish he might have been safer. At other times the power of flight might have kept him safe and allowed us to gather still greater information on our enemies. To this end I have been working to produce a magic that might allow him to change his shape to that of another animal.

I believe that I have mastered the means by which to allow him to do this however I am, suddenly reluctant to risk him in experimentation with this magic. Far to precious is he for me to risk and I can imagine the same puzzle has vexed many other conjurers in the past. I have shelved the completed formulae (never verifying it works) and begun crafting some new concepts to help him do his work. I hate to think I may have wasted some time and now need to return to research to craft something useful.

Interlude

Few of the Navigator's entires over the next few months survive today. The few that that do are still being investigated by museum archivists. The vast majority of them record simple mundane entries. An typical sample entry follows:

Godsday, too cold to snow. Drazil returns.

Other entries record business transactions surrounding the construction of his home:

Shipment #11235 arrives short, inquire with Mitch

And drafts of correspondence with the admirialty court in Gyrax pertaining to his most recent sailing abord Tempest.

There are also hotly debated, undated, partially intact letters that reveal a possible romance with one or possibly two partners at this time. The debate surrounding these documents is related to the code names of places and times the Navigator often utilizes in his letters. Some have suggested that now Sir Kildare was involved with another man. This has caused great anguish for his heirs, and his order and most mainstream researchers belive that the code names used represent only the young lady he would marry the following year. What follows is the only fully intact, restored and suitable for display writing of the navigator from the period.

Interlude: 11 Sunsebb, Godsday: I have returned from the coast to find the bitter cold of this early winter to have halted all work on the keep wall and defenses. The Sea Prince or Barons if you prefer have been most active along the coast and word of war on the Wild at Safeton-Bar Harbor have reached our shores. I would trust my own judgement and dismiss these rumors as just that however, after the most recent experience with my own judgement about such activity I will consult a seer before dismissing such horrible news. Ms. Leipzig is well, having recovered fully now from her illness. Her work has suffered but she is in good spirits and on the mend.

This is the only occassion in which the Navigator is known to have refered to a woman living with hime prior to his marriage the following summer. It is not know who exactly she is.

Thunder and Lightning

I entered our last battle before reaching the safety of Haven Hill filled with doubt for our success, worried about the mud and the eight hundred souls our thin line defends. But when the hour arrived and we approached our attack position, Chief and I crawling on our bellies to avoid detection, the misting rain and distant thunder rumbling filled me with excited joy and power; a new confidence. Not lust for blood or rage, nor false courage - fear had not completely left me but neither did my bones hear its council but a calming knowing that the Storm Lord who hath favored us each day of this venture was now aroused to anger and at my back driving blindingly against the monsters eyes.

Chief Horaz, stood and he flexed his muscles behind me you could the wood strain against him crackling as it was pulled taught. Shayla notched her first shot and I signaled them to loose their volley. The enemy were caught completely unaware - a distant crack of thunder concealing the arrows hissing flight towards them. Two enemies fell instantly dead, we saw one tumble to the roadway below and the Chief was frightening to behold as he snarled and launched another arrow.

I signaled Na'il and his dwur companions to move next, they were to execute a wide hook to the right flank of the enemy, and I would follow on an inside hook route to support him. The enemy was not thrown into complete disarray - it was clear they were well prepared and they were able to react rather quickly but their hurried rally to attack Na'il's flank brought their cavalry into my trap. I stepped out of the brush and as Na'il loosed a bolt of lightning into a near group of foes - killing most of them instantly, I put the flanking enemy forces to sleep, the Storm Lord blessed me with great power and their flanking attack was halted in its tracks.

Our archers continued their barrage; Na'il pressed on leading his team and loosed a second and third bolt devastating the enemy cavalry. As I sent a second group into a deep slumber I became increasingly aware of the horrific smell of burnt flesh and fur and enemy archers trying to get a bead on me. I moved behind Cade and helped him bring down an orc with a pair of hurled daggers before I was struck by an archer from above. I looked for help but everyone was engaged.

I staggered - there the arrow was projecting from my chest like a spar or bowsprit, it had penetrated my armor spell and become lodged in a rib, thankfully the armor spells protection guided it so it would not bounce into vital organs or I would have been killed instantly. Still I was now rendered hors de combat and decided to retire. I tried to call out to Horaz to join me he seemed to hear but not understand. He later told me that he had heard my cry but didn't understand it so he intensified his fire and finished off the archers on the hill.

I pulled my traveler from my coat and opened it to the bookmarked page - burning hands as a pair of enemy worgs set upon me. I was able to stumble away from their lunging attacks and read the spell from my book destroying the page but I succeeded in sending the beasts howling away badly seared for their trouble. I saw behind them an enemy archer previously not accounted for - he was moving in for the kill and all my allies were preoccupied. I looked to my book Charm Person was the next page open now, it was not damaged and so I began to read as I fell to a knee and Church leapt from his hiding place in my messenger bag. The archer seemed perplexed by my action - reading, kneeling in the rain, bleeding and the sight of the cat leaping from my side he hesitated before drawing an arrow from his quiver – I belted out the incantation and watched the page burn “Come friend” I shouted motioning with my hand to the archer.

Success! He lowered his weapon and scurried toward me. I pointed to a worg on Cade’s flank he understood me and fired on the beast. I then turned to survey my situation. I knew I had to withdraw so I looked to find a clear path away. Wind began to drive the rain upwards from the ground into my face, lightning sliced open the sky and the thunder slapped my breath away. There over my right side Na’il had somehow harnessed more lightning and struck the enemies commander with enough force to disintegrate him. I saw him explode in a grayish cloud of bone and burnt flesh in response to a simple touch by the dainty olven man. If Na’il continued to follow the plan he would finish his hook maneuver and I could retreat past him so I started towards him. My archer followed firing again at enemy reinforcements coming out of the darkness brought by the storm.

I got away; safe beyond even seeing the battle. I heard it faintly in the distance for a moment. I fell to the ground and allowed myself a moment of rest. Lightning struck a distant hilltop and I decided to cut this arrow away lest the sky mistake me for a tree. Rain poured over me washing fatigue away. I stood, alone and though I knew the Storm Lord was with me, I also knew it would not be wise to remain out of doors much longer – his fury being unpredictable. Na’il’s voice somehow reached me “more orcs” he cried. I looked at poor miserable Church; there is nothing quite as pathetic as a cat soaked to the bones. I tucked him back into his hiding spot and took him with me back into the darkness towards the din of battle.

My thoughts drifted oddly to Perry and the refugees. Knowing he was there to guard them let me then forget them and focus again; I turned my traveler to Sleep knowing that burning it would leave me defenseless should I live to need it tomorrow and that under these conditions I might not succeed in reading it and destroy the spell book for naught. As I approached the hill and figures became visible through the torrent I sensed Horaz out there alive and vibrant in a murderous rage, and my archer was struggling to recover after being struck by someone. I saw Shayla controlling the road checking the sleepers – with the water on the ground I suspected they may have drowned. It was knee deep in places, and rivulets poured from atop the hill around which the battle flowed.

Na'il sprinted up beside me and disabled the bulk of the remaining enemy with a powerful and frightening spell, Horaz, Shayla and Cade took care of the rest. Drazil tended to Ruggin and we hastened to return to the refugees. We found the bulk of them safe, and we hurried down the road to Kaska. The Storm Lord relented and we were greeted by friendly troops as we approached Havenhill. I finally felt that it was over, I could breathe easy and take some rest, relieved of the burden of looking over my shoulder constantly on guard for angry enemies. Seven were lost on the trail [The navigator recorded their names but the entry is illegible] to the arms of the gods, one taken for each hero who fought that day and lived who also numbered seven.

Living as Revenge

Tonight I write this by candle light on the long road to Haven Hill. I am tired beyond feeling, of knowing pain, hunger or my own name. Na'il has proven to be an even harhser task master than Shayla, driving the poor refugees of Rittersmarche beyond endurance. Somehow they keep going. Perry has nearly gone horse from muttering prayer after prayer and singing hymns. Shayla has brewed him some tea to help his throat so he can pray the way we might need him to in battle. The Graff Twembly seems only to have grown stronger at the head of his people.

Chief Horaz thinks the enemy will be on us tomorrow, probably as the sun sets, just before we estimate we can reach Kaska. The sky portents a storm which will make for a miserable eveneing and a slow trek through the mud on the morrow. 800 souls could be lost in this mud. I prayed for the storms but now regret invoking the hand of the storm lord. His presence in the chaos surrounding us has until now favored us. The battle at Twembly Manor was a great success though more than a few innocents were killed by the Pomarj forces including the Graff's wife and all but one of his children. We were able to rescue Cade's brother and some others but the brutality with which the others were butchered have sparked a dangerous desire for vengence in my comrades.

I have advised them to live as revenge. To go on to return like the tide to ebb away the foes beachces. For my part I am looking forward to meeting T. Mak and asking him if he had enjoyed his life which has reached its end. It may be many years from now but it drives me forward.

There are tremendous dangers ahead of us our scouts will seek out a reported enemy ambush site and we are expecting to be outnumbered fully five to one, discounting the vicious worg mounts of the enemy cavalry between us and safe harbor at Haven Hill.

There isn't time to continue writing this I have just been awakened by Na'il who noticed I had drifted off. The patern formed on the ground by the papers that fell and his words have unlocked a previously hidden answer to unlock Nystul's Werelight for me and I must document that epiphany before its evanesence causes the secret to be lost to me again.

End Game

Starday 1st Flocktime

This morning finds the towns folk assembling to attend a town hall meeting called by Grudi whom I should like very much to meet. I endured a less than ideal and restful sleep on the floor, insisting Shayla (and Church) use of the bed. The sky is red this morning, warning sailors of danger ahead. There is no fog, but a dry warm breeze that portends a miserable day and threats of dangerous storms.

Cade seems to be exceptionally agitated this morning and eager to get back to the manor house to rescue his brother and to extract his vengeance on Grudi and the others who have imprisoned and tormented him. I too would like to rescue his brother, and destroy the enemies of good and decent people that are poison to this land and the Jewel.

The enemy is well established in his position at the manor, designed for safety of a ruler and thus easily defended. I hope for some little known, forgotten or undiscovered entry we can exploit to obtain surprise and infiltrate the manor to split the enemy, killing him one at a time room to room quietly and quickly. Our soldiers however seem dead set upon a frontal assault, reckless but daring they hope they will catch the enemy off balance and not expecting such a move. I believe this is too much to hope for considering the discipline and organization the enemy has shown us thus far.

However, in light of my own recent planning flaws, I have told Cade that he is welcome to take the lead on this as he spent a good bit of his childhood here, his brother is involved and he has shown good sense about when to engage and to quit battle. I will follow him, though I made it a point to ask Perry to stay close as I need his protection while casting in close quarters of the manor house.

I should also like to find a large shield I can carry in front of me on the way to the house…

Copy of Correspondence

The navigator in addition to personal journals and magical formulae also wrote volumes of correspondence cited earlier as evidence of his psuedo chronology. Note that in the final letter to the prince he used the current date and again eludes to brewfest approaching. This final letter also evidences the navigators growing confidence in his magical powers as he dares to blast the princes decision to strip his friend of his title. It is not clear if the navigator ever sent this message as there are no records of a return correspondence. There is however the very real Kaska Penn Orchard Gymnasium and Library still in use today. Earlier letters are also included here.

Your Excellency Prince Olinstaad Corond,

I write to inform you that Rittersmarch has been taken by the enemy of the Pomarj. The Graf Twembly is a prisoner in his home patrolled by Men, Orc and Goblins. Your investigators Na’il, Drazil, Ruggin and Burton have arrived but may already have failed having gone to see your emissary Grudi who is in league with the enemy.

I also dare to protest your dismissal of Councilman Mesko following the brutal murder of his wife. You heap insult upon injury on a good and loyal servant. He is a friend; I have provided service to you at his request as a point of honor.

It is for the orphans, and the other weak and vulnerable taken by the enemy and fed to the Pomarj worms befouling the Jewel that I will continue to my campaign of harassment and destruction, not for you your highness. I have heard of your anger at Mesko for giving me commission to investigate this matter. I am not only a sailor, but a magoi able to make my anger known, to make revenge a living breathing ally, the insults paid him cascade down upon me your majesty.

If my last correspondence failed to reach you know now that your enemy numbers at least 300. Three score have fallen in the past week alone. Havenhill is a target for an impending march and the enemy holds the south bank of the Jewel where he wishes, able to cross with reinforcements at will.

This is not just another summer incursion following the hateful wars started by the celenian elves all those years ago. This is a new and vigorous offensive that might naught end at the edge of the disputed zone. I believe the offensive begins tomorrow with the start of Brewfest. I doubt this will reach you in time.

Your subjects have rendered services in total of 1,400 gold forges (400 Cuthbertines & 1,000 Le Toux of Thunderstrike – which is dying under plague quarantine). My own compensation arrangements were made with Mesko; I will seek recompense through his successor or if it pleases you to deal with this matter I require: the two acres of the Kaska Penn Orchard be made a memorial, a youth gymnasium and library to be erected there upon in tribute to the brave Uleki mailed foot squad that died there, and an acre in an over watch where I will erect my own tower to guard the site, the title of Baron and granting of a coat of arms. Should Rittersmarch be salvaged the Temple will be restored and I require 200 high crowns for my own expenses, that of my guards, guides and retainers including compensation to the ambassador from a friendly Sylvan nation.

Magoi Kildare Redding of Hardby
In Rittersmarch, 28th Harvester

Councilman Mesko,

I do not seek to raise undue alarm, but I must report what I have found though it disturbs me greatly to put quill to parchment to describe what I have discovered.

In the province, county or area known as Prinzfeld, there are along the southern bank of the Suss at least two remaining structures that can only be referred to as horror houses. They contain creatures most foul whose only purpose seems to be devouring the living flesh of your livestock, game and countrymen and putrefying their remains and pouring them into the Suss to poison it.

I have seen them in action (sketch included). They are similar to a monster known as a carrion crawler, a different breed, less dangerous perhaps being without the tentacles and armored carapace.

I say remaining structures because I have put the southernmost structure to fire and watched it collapse, killing most if not all of the monsters that were inside it. These structures are well guarded by more elite orc troops. The structure I destroyed was guarded by a score of goblins and orcs of the Pomarj and what my ranger called an ogre. Billet Perry’s skill at arms shined that day.

I report now from Thunderstrike. The town is in dire straits. The poisoning of the Suss has ruined the land and spread plague and contagion. The town has been put under quarantine and the local scholars are working with priests of Cuthbertine persuasion to provide succor to the citizens but they are vulnerable to attack, though I suspect that the enemy plans something else instead.

Looking at my maps of where enemy activity is rumored and known I suspect they will bypass the provinces north and march directly on to Havenhill, the provincial hamlets on the road being unable to mount a defense and Thunderstrikes Garrison disabled by plague. This will isolate Fort Stonewall & Hyle, leaving them with no lines of supply or communication, and thus doom them as well.

I beg of you to send what assistance you may be able to muster for the poor people of Thunderstrike. If it pleases the Prince, services have been rendered to my party by Cuthbertines in the amount of 400pg that should be repaid them as they were rendered in good faith to those who serve the crown, and in the amount of 1,000gp to Le Toux, the necromancer of Thunderstrike who is studying the monsters in hopes of discovering a means of counteracting the plague.

I am not returning to Havenhill, it is my intention to inspect the other towns in Prinzfeld and make mischief against the enemy with raids and ambushes until soldiers of the crown arrive to relieve us and expel the invaders who must number at least 300, less the 55 killed, by my estimates in this area. We are aided by an ambassador from a northern country beyond the mountains who shall remain anonymous but is deserving of mention, praise and gratitude as we could not have enjoyed even our modest success without him. The ambassador sends his best to the Prince.

Your Humble Servant

Magoi Kildare Redding of Hardby
Maps enclosed

Lord [Mesko],

We have made due haste in carrying out our charges and have met significant resistance including a PLATOON of enemy ELITE FOOT, thirty five strong, mixed orc, goblin and half-orc perhaps (see drawing). As some half-orcs are able to pass for men (as was my Bosun aboard Swallow) we should be

ALERT FOR SPIES & ENEMY OPERATIVES IN OUR MIDST.

The platoon enjoyed unshakable morale – no fear of magic and they seemed to be either intoxicated or enspelled, operating under some manner of altered mental state.

Goblin patrol subdued 1 day out (approx 16-20 miles north your position) featured trained archers (I am told this is unusual). Interrogations have produced nothing useful except that these enemies are led by a Turosh Mak, and they are convinced he will ‘eat us’ and such.

Uleki Dwarven footman also carried a message I’m forwarding, ten of them lost their lives to bring this to you.

My range tells me that there is some indication that the enemy is poisoning the Jewel River, reference Lukvich (Spl?) writings on the hateful wars – Cromwell knows the copy.

Your Humble Servant,

Master Kildare Redding

P.S. Please make an inquiry on my behalf with my tailor, have need of new shirt and a replacement bridge coat, as the wool is now dyed with blood, best wishes.

Dire Straights

Freeday, 28th Planting

Today I find myself mystified, feeling foolish and in grave danger. My friend Mesko who bid me to make this trip in service to Ulek has had his title stripped, and his wife murdered. The prince’s new investigators that we found in R’march this morning reported that the prince was displeased with my note, and by Mesko’s decision to have me investigating this matter. Beyond the bruising of my pride was the sudden realization that this venture would not be profitable for me, and I would be back at square one in terms of finding a means to fund my research and to establish my own company. A grim and harsh reminder of why I chose to be a man of the sea and to leave games and politics to landlubbers.

That disappointment and horror paled against the fate of the town’s orphans. There are no street urchins or orphans to be found here. I was told they were moved to Courwood north for better care. Perry suggested that they’re removal was a ruse and as I’ve never heard of orphans being moved en masse before for anything but exploitation. I’m sure now that I will not find them in Courwood. I dare not dwell on their fates too long lest I never sleep again.

For her part Shayla the guide has agreed not to abandon us, she says she will stay on and assist as we continue our own investigation – to help Perry and St Cuthbert’s not the ungrateful fickle royals of Ulek. I told all of our team that in two days come what may I make my way north to Courwood and beyond on my way home. Cade has discovered that his brother may be prisoner in the Manor of the Graf and I am afraid the prince’s elite investigators are on their way into a trap. Cade has also found the enemy patrolling the grounds of the manor and so we are preparing our own assault against it but this night, Cade continues his own probing alone. I have done what I can to prepare him and wished him well. Perry and I shall pray for him this evening.

Of Friends and Islands

Earthday 27th Planting

Friends are islands in a sea of indifference. Each is a unique creation with its own beauty and gifts to offer and explore. They often come to our horizon unexpectedly and are a joy to discover.

My day began with preparations to depart with my team for Rittersmarch, perhaps the last stop in our quest. I had heard while preparing my own equipment that some of the monsters we tried to kill were washing up on the shore, dead. I went to investigate and it appears the monsters are unable to swim and so drowned when we burnt their home to the ground and they fled the fire. Thus I have also determined they are not particularly intelligent. I found a large group of folks engaged in study of the carcasses led by a necromancer name Le Toux. He was using some magic to avoid the nauseating effects of the monsters odor and directing the others in collecting samples and the like.

I managed to get his attention to discuss his findings and compare notes [these do not appear anywhere in the navigators papers] and he invited me into his home to discuss the other monsters over tea. His quarters were immaculate and reminded me of home. I spent the entire morning in his company and he gifted me a number of fine articles including a new set of clothes to replace the second set of clothes I had brought with me, ruined by goblin and orc gore yesterday. Though gaudy by comparison to my usual attire, the floor length cloak had enough expertly placed pockets for all the magical components I could ever need, and the hat added a dashing flair with its stripe and feather that even Perry had to admire my appearance. It felt good to be clean, and to look good again.

His work forced him to leave me there to finish dressing. I was happy to be away from the horrors and death outside but I found myself hurrying to rejoin him. It was nearing noon, the hour I told my companions we would depart so I dragged myself away from him with the gifts he had given me afraid I might not see him again.

On the way to Rittersmarch I found the new outfit’s boots to be more comfortable than I had guessed but had to remove the feather as Churchill found it to be an irresistable plaything.

Victory, Our First It Seemed

Waterday, 26 Planting

Luck was with us this day. We had made very good time using the ranger’s knowledge of the territory. We reached the enemies strong point along the river banks. They had constructed a stout and sturdy wooden structure there. They took pains to clear a perimeter including marking paths and guard posts. There was an ogre and a dozen or so foes, a mix of orcs and goblins we’d seen before. This was the first opportunity we enjoyed to plan an engagement with the enemy, and though we were not compelled to action by circumstance, our hearts demanded that we take the opportunity to deal the enemy a blow, any setback for the friends they had taken from us.

We hatched a plan for quick raid intent on damaging or destroying the structure and hopefully the monsters inside with fire. I hoped to be able to capture or kill the ogre and most of his forces and told the team to be ready for a hasty retreat. Everyone had their assignments that hinged on carefully coordinated timing, and force of arms. The plan in retrospect was of an order of magnitude that represented the limits of our capabilities, accounting for the presence of our guardian angel and easily beyond our abilities without him. The sunlight was failing, and with it any advantage we’d enjoy from daylight in our raid against the orcs.

All in all the attack was an astounding success from the beginning. Billet Perry blessed us and the first arrow was lit and notched. It landed perfectly and sent burning splinters and shards scattering across the roof top of the enemy’s structure. Shayla launched more arrows pouring fire into the structure and causing confusion (but not quite panic) in the foe. Tiny goblins tried to form a fire brigade with tiny wooden pails, and the orcs chastised them for their efforts; driving them instead into battle. Shayla then began to move to another position from which to fire at our foes, her instructions were to fire, move and fire. I signaled to Church and Cade to begin their attack when ready and Cade continued to prove he can be a deadly business adversary.

I watched the action unfold and picked the time to cast the sleep spell. I had originally intending to take the ogre down with the spell but I sensed there was not enough power here to take him so I listened to god’s whispered will and targeted a group of orcs that had massed to investigate Cade’s advance. I pushed Perry into the clearing, following immediately behind him with the intent to draw the monsters attention. Shayla was facing off against the ogre and two monsters that joined him; Shayla was in trouble it seemed until our invisible guardian joined her. I couldn’t see precisely what happened behind two large boulders there between us; I had to trust they would win the day. Would the pair of rangers be able to join Perry and me before the half dozen monsters charging at us tore us asunder?

I found myself awash in goblin and orc blood, Perry’s pre-battle prayer had focused him and he was destroying goblin after goblin with uncanny ease. Brains and bits of skull splattered all around him causing the smaller monsters to lose their nerve and flee. Then horror as I wiped away a bit of gore from my face to see Cade fall. Only a moment before Cade had called out a warning to wisely end the raid. I called out to hold the line; he pressed the attack and paid for my pride with his blood. I looked for the rangers and saw they were on their way to help us. I stumbled back over one of the two orcs I had killed. One of their eerily human like eyes was still jammed onto my dagger; I saw one last orc sizing me up knowing I was seriously hurt by his comrades. I think he gave me a moment to see if I would collapse from loss of blood. Even I couldn’t tell where their blood ended and my own began. I took the opportunity to draw the sword I captured on the 23rd, pointed it at him and offered him quarter if he would surrender.

The next thing I can remember is the rangers and Perry hoisting me up onto my feet telling me to get to the horses! I stopped for a moment looking over my shoulder to see the roof of the building collapse and what was left of its walls fall into the Jewel. I took stock, all my companions had survived and the ranger was off to continue to fight his way. We made our way into the night and we all prayed to reach Thunderstrike safely. Fittingly we arrived to the greetings of religious pilgrims camped outside of the town on 27th Planting. Thunderstrike was under quarantine. A plague likely caused by the poisoning of their water supplies had taken hold. The ranger knight was there so we invited him to council and began to make plans for the29th, the earliest estimate of when we would be together ready for action.

A Puzzling Find

The navigator puzzled for days over the meaning of this document he had his ranger translate. He found it at a ranger hide, hastily abandoned with a few other minor personal effects of elf manufacture, including a whistle that the navigator kept with him for all his days thereafter.

A month into the journey and I’m the lone survivor. There are not words for the rage that has not diminished in the days since the battle. That rage drives me forward to continue the mission to find what doom comes to these fools, and might threaten the vale. I have failed as the mage guard – the mixed men and dwarf unit wisely took him first, then our priest and our translator who made the blunder that set them off in the first place. I’d like to say it was my skill at arms that won the day but I only killed three of them before they got took me down.

I spent weeks languishing in their prison before they were satisfied that we were operating with permission of the King of Keoland and for their mutual benefit. I think they held me longer fearing the embarrassment, but once I survived my wounds they thought it best to release me on my word not to embarrass their idiot captain by reporting their stupidity to the king. I never said I would not take my revenge though, nor did I promise not to report this to the Exalted One.

I reached the Suss with little trouble after that, traveling alone without the mage and his supplies, the priest and his gimpy leg I was able to run most days resting on rainier ones in hides the Uleki ranger’s think are so secret. If they only knew my people showed them where to put them many of their generations ago. I marveled though at the speed at which the parasitic humans and dwarves can change a landscape – so much of the land I could not recognize from previous trips here as a child. Quarries had been cut and forts erected where beautiful groves and orchards once stood, they were places you could hear the music of the wind through the leaves and the birds above while enjoying a day in reverie.

Not today – these filthy mushroom and pig farmers squat in their own muck and filth they’ve even muddied the beautiful Jewel of the Suss, her River. I trek up to the Handmaiden River that feeds the Jewel to see that my spiteful cousins from Celene are holding that line against the human and orc encroachment. How I despise them too for lording their pure blood line over us, tolerating the orc neighbors and men but not even acknowledging their cousins existence in the vale. I spit in the Handmaiden and relieved myself on its banks before moving south. I’m moving slow with caution now having seen evidence of goblin kind, sensing the orcs are stirring and not finding any friendly rangers I expected to assist me. I dare not venture into a village or town again, I was nearly discovered by that sailor near Havenhill, and I don’t want to risk being discovered again.

War Council

24th Planting, Moonday

After the fog cleared from the heather and my mind I returned to find my companions awaiting my arrival. They were ready to discuss a plan of action and I was eager to discuss with them our possible courses. We laid out the facts as we knew them and hypothesized that the forces of the Orcish Empire of the Pomarj were poisoning the Jewel River, and carrying out an assassination campaign against rangers, druids and other protectors of the land who might detect and oppose their plot. We also agreed that the Emissary Grudi sent by the Prince to Prinzfeld and report to Havenhill was compromised. Graf Twembly-likely also compromised if he was still alive.

We would not have to enter Prinzfeld to know this much. To the extent the enemy controlled the territory and had damaged the river was what we did not know. My companions put it to a vote. We decided we advance by the stealthiest route our ranger guide could devise to the Jewel River to learn how advanced the plot was, to destroy the creatures and facilities involved in the river’s destruction and to harass the enemy before proceeding to Prinzfeld to assess activities there.

Our investigation in the Sodorburgh Hamlet would likely produce no significant findings, serving only to check the readiness of the newly organized watch force and to await possible enemy retaliation for the loss of a platoon of their troops. The sun rose high quickly and burned unseasonably warm finally drying the soil which has been an unpleasant slippery mess since we departed Havenhill.

On a personal note, Perry seemed refreshed and unusually focused and quiet. Even Shayla was of improved mood, cracking more than one smile during discussions with Cade about the finer points of sneaking across the low country. The pair may require another day to plot a course using the maps we have that do not show with any precision the enemy's disposition.

A Rare Error

An error in log keeping, uncharacteristic of the navigator, raises questions about his chronology. According to some of his notes, brewfest is fast approaching, which is the fall festival but this volume of his journals begin in planting, or early spring. In this entry he reverts back to a fall date. It is speculated that he was using pseudo-chronology to disguise the timing of events should his logs fall into enemy hands much the same way we know now that Sodorburgh Grove (fictitious name) is in fact the Kaska’s Penn Orchard, currently the site of the Karl Steelborne library and youth gymnasium.

Moonday, 24th Harvester

The morning crept up on me; I awoke to a calm silence refreshed and at peace, a world away from any worldly concerns. I looked out the window to see the land wrapped in a soft blanket of wispy fog. The sky was clear and bright, a soft muted blue that portended the Storm Lords eye upon me, the fog he sent to conceal me from danger. I unpacked my blue cloak as my coat was in shambles and began to carefully transfer my few magic ingredients remaining to my shirt pockets. I fastened the cloak with extra care using the scrimshawed trident cloak pin he made for me, I prayed for his soul in the care of the sea now and gave thanks to the Storm Lord for his blessings and guidance before unpacking my books to study this morning.

I decided to take a short constitutional and find something to eat first. I was becoming aware of the smell of sausages and bread baking. I fastened the captured sword to my waist and cut a line through the fog, to the far end of the farm and there I sat to enjoy my pipe. The smoke mingled with the fog, and the two became one as lovers embraced on the eve of battle.

The fog began to recede and to the north the vision returned.

I stood at the helm, listening to the calls from the bowsprit, 6 fathoms the boys called, then 5 and 4. We limped through the fog badly damaged by a storm the night before. He came up beside me wished me a happy birthday casually and began to scan the horizon with his glass. Three fathoms was sounded and it was time then to stop and weigh anchor the sailing master advised. He would not hear of it. He quipped “Mr. Greely, there are two kinds of sailors I know, those who have run aground and those who have lied” everyone chuckled. He had a way of breaking the tension no matter the circumstances; you could see how he had risen to the rank of captain in Keoland’s Navy so quickly with no family title or land.

The fog suddenly fell away, cut by his wit along with the tension. And then we saw her, there on her side and beached the pirate ship Guillotine and the prize she took the sloop Swallow at anchor. The captain put the men to quarters and the marines formed up on deck dazzling in their full dress blood red uniforms with the Lion rampant in black on their chests. The battle Ensign was run up and the long boats were put over the rail; the captain would lead the assault leaving me in command. His lieutenant balked and was ordered to take command of the second boat load of marines.

I ordered more sail – we had to close before they could see us and prepare to repulse our landing. The captain smiled approvingly of my insanely bold move and ducked into his cabin to retrieve his hat and cutlass. He emerged with a tiny wooden box and pressed it into my hand telling me that he would return shortly to see me open it and not to peak until then. The ship surged forward catching more wind "5 fathoms" came the call – we were over the sandbar – into the natural harbor the pirates used as a hide out. Fortune smiled upon us again. I watched them all board their boats, you never would have know that last night, just a few hours ago they were disabled; green with sea sickness in the hold below praying for death to escape the agony of the storm.

I ordered a turn to launch the first boats in our lee and to bleed off speed, the boat was reported away and I brought her back over on herself. I have never known a ship to respond as she did; the Seraphim had come about almost before I could catch her, she tugged at her reigns and charged headlong as if sensing the battle and thirsting for action. The second boat was away in our lee and the captain and his marines were already making good progress to the beach. I made for the Swallow, meaning to board her with the four marines left me and ships company to take her back.

I watched my captain through my own glass from the quarterdeck leaving the wheel in the hands of Bosun Allen who was a better sailor than I and he deftly brought us alongside the sloop. We grappled her and I led the assault – there was no one aboard her save two pirates drunk on rum. They were taken into custody and I found what remained of the ship’s crew and passengers on the mess decks. The captain’s daughter had survived (it not uncommon for captains to bring family with them occasionally) but was in a terrible state. Her testimony would later doom the pirates to the most gruesome means of execution I have ever witnessed…

“Huuzah!” went the call from my men “the ship is ours!” I cried out only then realizing I had made the boarding without a weapon, holding only my spyglass so I raised it and repeated the cheer while my men raised their swords “Huuzah!” That was the proudest moment of my life.

Back on deck we detailed men to crew Swallow, Bosun Allen would handle Seraphim and I would command Swallow, a ship more to my liking in being a smart, small, compliant vessel. We raised her anchor and made for the channel where we would remain on station awaiting the captain’s return. I searched the beach with my glass to find him.

The marines were making quick work of the pirates. Weeks in pursuit having to endure rough winter seas and squalls that punished them in the hold with no outlet for their frustration had made them animals. They tore through the foe and poured onto the decks of the beached Guillotine. I caught a glimpse of him as he went over the rail – as was his way he went first and I watched him fall. He was caught with a harpoon in the neck and fell back over the rail into his marines. I dropped my glass into the sea and suddenly wept with a shudder.

My captain! My friend. I could not see very well thereafter what had happened but I know the pirates must have fought like cornered animals having heard the marines shouting “the killed the skipper!” and the lieutenant’s orders “TAKE NO MORE PRISONERS LADS” before he too fell to an archer in the crow’s nest I was later told. I could watch no more I ordered a signal to Allen in Seraphim “I assume command, take the beach” and pointed Swallow at the shore meaning to make landing and see if he could be saved.

It would not be. Only a handful of prisoners survived the trip home. I kept the logs as midshipman Redding, noting that I was in command but not taking the title of captain, I was midshipman commanding only. When we returned to the pier at home, it was still winter, cold and lonely.

I resigned my post and bartered with the owners of Swallow for passage home to Dyvers to rejoin my father and never wore a uniform again. Father was disappointed I know but happy to see me alive too. When I returned home I found that little box in my bridge coat and the cloak pin inside with the last known writings of my captain, a private note that I kept in my coat until last night when my own blood ruined it.

I remember this today because it is the first time I can recall waking and wearing a sword since then, curiously the last time I can remember wearing a weapon. I can’t recall where it got to in the afternoon – why it wasn’t on me when I went aboard Swallow... My glass remains there near the sea barons in the bay. There too we buried my captain.

Final Entry, 23rd Planting

Safely ensconced back in the village we are able to find wise counsel and a generous host in one fine dwarf and his family. The Kandress family takes us into their home and the mayor of the town adds much to our investigation. Shayla finally has seen fit to share what she learned prior to my arrival in the area, a good sign that I have won the soldiers respect at the least. Take a moment to reflect on the events of the last two days.

I’ve made some friends, and seen much brutality heading inland which dulls my passion for life and haunts me. I can see why the Storm Lord considers travels such as this a sin and hope he will forgive me as I struggle on not only to honor him and my word to a friend, but to protect a mighty river that feeds the sea. This river’s health is in my estimation vital to the livelihood of the Storm Lord’s sons and daughters on his shining coast.

The friends I have made are of stout heart and strong character, though I suspect now that my friend Cade is a professional burglar (hands too soft and he wears shoes on occasion), I believe him to be more of a kindred spirit that one might suspect. I would be lying to say I did not seriously consider joining the Tempest mutiny and becoming a pirate if only for the freedom of that life. But the senseless brutality, the drunkenness and paranoia…it would dishonor now, the dear brave friends Stoppel and Muncy, Karl and others, to become an outright outlaw. I still marvel at the bravery I’ve seen these past two days. For our losses what has been gained?

We have determined now that there is an attempt by the forces of the Pomarj to befoul the regionally vital Jewel River and the ‘disputed areas’ underlying aquifer. To accomplish this they are utilizing a breed of monster similar if not in fact carrion crawlers. They are apparently also taking livestock, game and perhaps citizens to putrefy and pour into the river.

The village wells here were checked and found safe, but that might not last.

The delegate from Prinzfeld is no longer missing (less the documents be forgeries) but his assessment of the situation casts doubt on his judgment or capacity to speak freely.

It dawns on me now that he might very well have been sacked by the enemy. Captured or coerced into betraying his prince and his kin. Damn it all I have to bring this to my soldier’s attention immediately…

The Battle of Sodorburgh Grove

I tell this tale not for my glory, but as a small testament to the bravery of the fallen. The long lives that these brave dwarves can live, many times the life of men, make their sacrifice all the greater, and so very tragic.

A long days ride, and a few miles short of the Hyle crossroad is a tiny hamlet. We were tired of being driven so hard by our guide and stopped to water our horses which were showing signs of wear as well. We were greeted by a commotion at the festival hall of the little road side village. A dwarven soldier of Ulek had perished after giving his last to carry a message of approaching danger, and to seek help for his companions still embattled only a mile yonder north. Our soldiers mounted up, joined with a brave dwarf named Muncy of Clan Steelborne and charged off to join the battle I feared already lost.

I implored my companions to let me remain with the villagers to organize a defense should the threat avoid them and raid the town. My pleas fell on deaf ears and I was forced to leave my companion Churchill alone as a trip-wire contingency against surprise. Reluctantly I rode with my companions to an uncertain fate.

We quickly arrived at the scene of the battle, a place our guide said was called the Sodorburgh Grove (though I’m not sure why) and our hopes of finding any living allies were quickly dashed. Broken banners, spears, hammers and ax hafts lay strewn about like so much flotsam. There were more than a dozen hollowed corpses of goblin and orc raiders concentrated along a narrow path leading up a short ridge, and a few fallen Uleki mailed foot were mixed in. We rode through the churned blood soaked dust of the roadway and began to hear the battle continuing just off the road. We crested the ridge and saw surviving dwarves completely surrounded and making a last desperate stand, three of them with their backs to each other snarling and daring their attackers who were cautiously circling them. Their attackers numbered ten.

Before I could propose a plan, Muncy had dismounted his pony and charged halfway to the first foe soaring into battle like a red tail diving onto its prey. My companions charged in behind him and our sapper vanished (as he is prone to do) into the underbrush to flank the foe. This left me the unenviable duty of tethering the disagreeable ponies. They had sensed danger in the Steelborne’s blood curdling battle keen and were bucking, I made a quick flying bolen that kept the animals muzzle to muzzle and gave them nowhere to run and moved to the tree line to conceal my movement and make some contribution with my magic.

The enemy proved stubborn, they were clearly an elite element of Turosh Mak’s forces, and so hardened were they that I suspect they may have been a part of his own house guard or rangers. Even after I had incapacitated near half the enemy with a quick spell in broad view of the captains, they kept fighting! They met our charge and held fast. The three surviving Steelborne seized on the confusion caused by appearance and they launched themselves against the enemy anew. The monsters cut down two of the brave dwarves as I moved forward to assist. As I watched an Uleki fall- run through by the enemies gloating sergeant pumping his fists in the air and baying loudly, something overcame my sensibilities, I became enraged and hungered for revenge. I saw my friend, Cade maneuvering in behind the monster who was taunting me it seemed intentionally. I was afraid that Cade would be detected and so I charged the brute hoping to catch his attention. I stumbled as I leapt over the fallen dwarf and as a result I was forced to make an amateurish thrust which was easily parried by the muscled monster who spun and back handed me – pushing me back on my heels.

He detected and parried Cade’s strike too, swiping at him with his sword as I slashed at his arm cutting away a piece between his wrist and elbow. This seemed only to anger him – he turned his focus to me & lunging, slashed at me! I stumbled again, this time I stupidly righted myself in place catching the sword blow with my chest. Only the brass buttons of my coat saved me, my heart stopped, I was blinded by pain and fell to a knee. I don't remember what happened next, but after a moment of ringing and groping Cade was helping me up.

Taking that chance proved a good bet, that plan hatched with no time for fear or introspection worked! Fortune favors the bold indeed.

Cade's sword was lodged in the orc sergeant, so he snatched up another from the ground and motioned with his head and eyes to the orc captain and soldier that were savagely attacking our billet and had sent Muncy to Moradin. Not stopping to check my wound but clutching my weak arm over it I charged behind Cade and we viciously stabbed at the Orc captain giving Perry a chance to withdraw and go to the aid of the last wounded dwarf who had to be pulled away from the fight by our guide.

Shayla then joined us in finishing off the two remaining goblin enemies. All told some thirty five enemy lay at our feet, fully two thirds cut low by less than a dozen brave dwarf footmen of Ulek in a battle that raged most of the day, and over two acres of the Sodorburgh Grove, one I think should be renamed for the Steelborne whose blood will both stain and nourish it forever.

On the Road Again, Sunday 23rd Planting

Though it seemed like an eternity standing there defenseless in the dark, hearing the muffled struggle going on out there between my friends and a an unknown enemy it was only a few moments before we were all reunited and on our way back to camp safely with the prisoners, owing perhaps to a guardian angel that seemed to have joined us that night. It’s invisible hand evident in at least two instances now.

The evening was insufferable; an apparent lack of experience in handling prisoners by the soldier and guide resulted in a needless death. I have found at least one skill developed at sea readily translates to the adventuring life ashore, and I am now in charge of securing prisoners. Only one prisoner survived the night it turns out, owing to a particularly heavy handed method of interrogation employed by the businessman Cade. I should like to know what manner of enterprise he is engaged in so I might take extra precautions before entering negotiations with him or his guild brethren.

I was surprised that my recommendation to leave the last survive be in the hands of the Gods, was heeded. We disarmed him, kept him bound and sent him blindfolded down the highway. He would find his allies and report that this area was not someplace they should tread, or find his way into the nearest village where the locals would not be so kind. It was not up to us.

I prepared Burning Hands this morning, in light of the broken terrain and the distinct possibility of close quarter’s battle but more so at the behest of Church who has expressed an unexpected desire to see that magic in action. I will keep a pinch of sand close as the sleep magic worked better than expected, with a little more practice in actual battle I should have the targeting of that down solid quickly.

The weather is agreeable, a cool breeze today, but the sky is threatening from the east, and there is a good chance of a summer storm blowing through. I hope but have not dared to ask our guide, that there is a place to shelter at the crossroads to Hyle.

How did I get here?

Sit back and let me regale you with a tale of nautical intigue, murder, curses and escapes!

It was early winter when my father asked me if I could use a little extra work before settling in for the season. I laughed saying that I had already greased and packed my instruments, stocked the wine and even found Churchill a companion for the cold nights. He laughed and asked me what I had in mind to keep myself company?

Before I could answer he handed me a letter from the (navigator’s) guild assigning me to the brig Tempest. I’d seen her before; she was an elegant, fast vessel with good accommodations for her size and I was intrigued by the chance to go aboard her. The charter was only passengers and the guild had negotiated an enormous fee for my services which should have told me there was something more to this than a simple last run ahead of the winter storms.

The letter instructed me to report in two days, leaving me little time to make arrangements for my things while I was away or prepare my instruments. Father said he’d see to my things and said that the ship had its own tools aboard; its navigator had passed away with no heir so I could use them. Not knowing the man or the condition of his tools I prepared my own equipment anyway. In hindsight that was a terrible idea.

When I arrived at the vessel, the sailing master told me that I was late and threatened to cancel my contract in favor of another sailor, a fellow I knew to be less than a gentleman, and even less of a sailor. I turned to leave wishing them well on their way to the bottom. Then the captain appeared. He was a classic martinet, a former military sailor who was used to flogging and keelhauling unruly crewmen. He ordered me to stand fast and one of his crew blocked the gangway. He calmed himself and invited me to his cabin and offered twenty crowns apologizing for his mate’s demeanor.

He told me of the charter and handed me the chart, it was bloodied, holed and had been singed. It was old, fragile and showed an alien sea full of tiny islands marked in ancient dialects and more recent translations sloppily added to it. He told me that his passengers were professional explorers, nobles of great influence and power from a northern country, Veluna I believe. They were seeking a discarded and forgotten treasure lost during the great migration – washed ashore in the South Seas. He swore me to secrecy and I promised to keep the map secret and safe in my quarters.

I had heard many stories, ghost ships, phantoms and sea monsters and thought there had to be some truth to at least some of them. I weighed that against the potential rewards…I foolishly perhaps, agreed to sail. It would be twenty seven days to the first landfall. The hold was fitted out with enough provisions for many times that duration and extra room had been allotted to the crew and passengers; that promised to make the trip a relatively pleasant one. According to the plan, we would be home near the end of winter, and enjoy tropical temperatures most of the time. Once we cleared the 25th latitude and its famous storms.

I inspected my quarters and settled in. the previous navigators tools were badly damaged which unnerved me a bit. I then inspected the ship, from her ballast on up. She had been recently refitted and was in superb condition, this put me at ease again. Churchill settled in, ah he’s my longtime companion there in the window, and the next morning we set sail. I met one of the noble passengers who were traveling under pseudonyms. I knew him to be a wizard named Imrahil, I had met him at an event in Bar Harbor once. He was a student wizard as I was; only he was much more advanced. We talked at length about the map which was his apparently but he did not seem to remember me.

We hit a terrible storm at the 25th and it sickened even the saltiest of the crew, confining all but myself, the sailing master and Imrahil to quarters. When we got through the storm we came upon a smaller vessel that had not been so lucky. It had been badly damaged and it was drifting lifelessly. We sent out a lifeboat and three men to investigate her. She was in bad shape and sinking it turns out. The three men who went aboard her returned after an hour with as much of her remaining valuables as they could carry.

The crew vociferously lobbied the captain to take her in tow as a prize for the salvage reward, a share of which is easily two years salary for any sailor, but he refused saying that he could not tow it, or spare crew to operate her and Tempest back across the line into safe harbor. Nor could he assure he could save her from sinking even with every hand put to it.

We sailed away and watched her go down. I can’t remember her name now, but her image haunts me sinking over the horizon. I wonder now if she was abandoned or if our men found the crew injured or incapacitated and robbed them.

Well soon enough we had more misfortune, a passenger had gone over in the night. I was on watch then and was alert as always. I have no recollection of how it happened but I.

Days later the captain had decided to put the crew to work to quell rumors of a curse. He pushed them so hard that they finally mutinied. They threw him over board, murdered the 1st mate and sailing master, letting only myself and the quartermaster, a fellow named Gaston live. They killed two of the passengers who were on deck at the time and resisted then roused the two others sleeping below and locked them in the hold.

I resorted to a spell to save me and the other navigator, I convinced the leader of the uprising the carpenter William Bramble to let us live, and he agreed to do so if I could best him in a favorite game of chance, a friendly wager he said. Ordinarily there are only two sides in a mutiny, thanks to the charm person spell, I had found another. And knowing full well how to cheat at cards, I did so to the best of my ability I even won a second hand where I wagered for the longboat to take me towards home.

I offered to play for the prisoners and Gaston’s release but the pirates laughed saying that those passengers were worth more than the ship! Gaston chastised me for abandoning the passengers to the pirates and I assured him he was the fool for worrying about them that he should come with me, the passengers were more than just wealthy explorers…Gaston, a brave and honorable man would not hear of it.

As I sailed in the tiny long boat, almost certainly to my death, I watched a fire erupt aboard the brig. It seemed that the young wizard was beginning his escape. I could not catch the brig to help or learn more owing to the wind…

A few days later I made landfall south of here on the eastern side of the peninsula away from Gyrax. I sold the launch for a pittance and ventured inland with Churchill to contemplate my next adventure happy to have missed the worst of the winter at sea. I’ve been here ever since.

Baptism of Fire, pre-dawn Sunday 23 Planting

After we had made camp our guide Shayla, appointed to us by Concilman Mesko, reported that she had sighted a small group of goblins, presumably hostile and she dashed off. Independant business man, halfling Cade vanished, and Perry ran off to join Shayla. I was left staring at Church wonder what to do.

I packed my nightcap away again and put my bridgecoat back on, made sure that a pinch of sand was where I had packed it in the event I would need to cast sleep and followed. I suggested to Church he remain here safe but he followed me as I had hoped. When I caught up to the group, they were near an odd stone that looked like it might have been a statue eons ago. We were in a low cut, slightly off the road where there was lots of undergrowth but only a couple of large trees. The ground was soft owing to a heavy rain last night. I only saw Perry and Shayla, Cade was gone- then it happened.

Beady eyes in the distance, then the sound of a sword being drawn, an arrow hitting the dirt near my feet and before I knew it the fay woman had charged headlong into the dark! Perry followed her and I ducked behind the large stone and asked Chuchhill if he could make out what was happening. He arched his back and hissed in the direction of the road alerting me to a small beady eyed figure in the dark trying to sneak up on us. It seemed like an eternity - another arrow came at me and lodged itself into the stone just above my head - I turned and stood to cast sleep at the figure, but it vanished - only a sense of puzzlement from Church who then drew my attention back towards Perry and Shayla.

The spells energy was building and ready to burst so I squeked out (trying to sound intimidating and shout but failing) “I will be not but a dream when you awake, now SLUMBER deeply as the old ones!” throwing the pinch of sand into the air trying to target the sound of battle and the dim shadowy figures I could make out. Horror my heart stopped - our guide fell.

Though she was obviously an elf, the sleep spell took her down, thankfully Brother Perry stood next to her, able to resist the spell he stood guard to ward off any other attackers near her not disabled by the spell. I ran faster than I ever had to get to her - Perry stood hovering over as I roused her and put her on her feet - now I could here Cade curse and I sensed he was in trouble ahead. Shayla didn't ask any questions as we hoisted her to her feet, handed her my dagger and pressed her sword back into her hands and bid her GO! Pointing towards the sound of Cade.

It was over so quickly, Perry followed Shayla again and I stood unarmed, depleted of power hoping against hope that there we would be safely away soon!

Road to Prinzfeld, Starday 22nd Planting

This evening finds me less than exhausted but quite dusty and in great discomfort, having spent the lion’s share of the day in the saddle attempting to keep up with our ‘guide’. We are less than halfway to the crossroad for Hyle and already I must admit that my patience for her brusque demeanor is near its end. I’m hoping to avoid having to speak to her much so as to avoid losing my temper with her, in light of the information Mesko gave me about her recent tragedy.

The route we’ve taken has been pleasant and enjoyable, except for the horse. Perry and Cade have proven to be agreeable travel companions, each making their own contributions to keep the mood light despite reports of dangerous activities at night and continuing reports of monsters activities in the areas. The locals (inhabiting the many small hamlets and scattered farmhouses) report all manner of hazards to travelers, and yet bravely stand their ground. There is no panic, no one is apparently retreating – is this testament to their faith or their own hearty nature?

I had the most enjoyable stop in the Hamlet of Chandler when Shayla allowed us to stop and rest while she scouted the road ahead. I was amazed to notice Perry talking to his horse. I don’t know if this was simply his way of expending nervous energy or if he and his animal shared some communicative bond.

I took the opportunity to shelter in the inn called ‘the brow’. I had a lovely chat with a farmer who had come to the tiny hamlet with his wagon. I met the man sitting at the bar enjoying a pipe and an ale. He was smoking a delightful blend of herb that I had not encountered before. He agreed to share it after gentle prodding, and we shared a delightful conversation as well. The highpoint of the trip so far.

Though I swore not to reveal his identity I think it safe to say that he was an elf man, and no simple farmer. He claimed he was there on business botanical with the Ehlonna priestess there at the hamlet. The priestess it turns out was away for the afternoon and he was making use of the shade afforded by the inn as I was. I picked up a few words of wisdom, of the fay tongue and pointers on carrying my concealed weapons. I should very much like to meet that young (?) man again.

Freeday, 21st Planting

Having been stymied in my efforts at research this past week and exhausted in my labor, it was refreshing, if briefly terrifying to be granted a reprieve today. A representative of the Prince here in Ulek has requested I participate in a small public service which shall require me to travel in mixed company. We will travel to a hamlet called Prinzfeld to learn what might have delayed their delegate to the regional council meeting being held here in Havenhill. While I suspect monsters, I cannot discount the mundane possibilities of illness, drunkenness, highwaymen or the like being responsible for the delay.

We are to be led by a young fay-woman named Shayla who knows the ground we are to cover. I have found a pre-hateful war map and some notes about the conflict amongst the texts I have been transcribing and made some notes for my own reference. I hope to endear myself to the young fay-woman and convince her to assist me with my experiment when this small task is complete.

Though I suspect Shayla, who I believe is some manner of soldier, will be well prepared for the travel, I will spend some time provisioning myself for the task at hand and enjoying a hero’s feast this evening. I will engage in a game or two and see if my luck will portend a good journey on the morrow.

Godsday, 18th Planting

While stealing some time to work on Nystul's Werelight in ongoing attempts to crack that spell I have happened upon a curious hue. Owing to the season and hibernation of fireflies, I have been forced to substitute components. The curious dim red hue I have been able to generate with rose quartz or vermillion has a unique quality which I must explore; it does not interfere with (ordinary human sailor) night vision. It may be ideal to light a ship's cabin at night, particularly for those who must frequent the weather deck (as must captains, navigators, midshipmen and the like). I have observed the light is dim and does not travel very far lighting only a small work area, and it lasts for quite some time, longer with the cheap abundant quartz than with the expensive vermillion. I must consult a demi-human to see what affects the light might have on their night vision, I suspect it would be either invisible to them, or perhaps the opposite - be a bright beacon that might extend their vision...knowing this I could plan appropriate precautions when working with demi-humans or against similarly sighted humanoid monsters. Churchill has said that he can see the light but not the hue, I do not understand his sighting but believe him to be near color blind (are all cats?). In any case, this limit to vision has not been conveyed to me along with my familiars other sensory powers.

Havenhill, Waterday, Planting the 5th

Today I have found myself in the town of Havenhill. Having few funds with which to continue my inland adventure, I have decided to toss out the anchor, if only for a while. While purchasing some supplies I had heard a friend was here studying at the library and though I missed him, I was blessed by providence to find employment and a place to stay thanks to the master librarian Cromwell. The work suits me well, I feel that with good effort I should soon be able to parley this new beginning into a profitable venture.

I have begun to examine possible apprentices by the same means my master sought me, hoping to gain assistance in my own personal work and to pass on the gifts given me.

Churchill is not quite as pleased with the new surroundings, he says compared to the cramped decks of Tempest and Mist, the library is a significant step backwards. There is no pleasing him some days, I assure him this is temporary but he has decided that he will remain out of doors more often than not. When the money begins to come in and the food improves, he’ll come around.

Who is Kildare?

Kildare Redding is the adopted son of an honest merchant captain, and skilled navigator from Hardby. Recently marooned by mutinous pirates, he and his beloved companion Churchill, a large black wharf cat have found refuge in the Sheldomar Valley. He has decided to take a break from the sea and instead explore developing his magical hobby and tinkering into a full time endeavor.

He is a brave, but not foolish, optomistic and adventerous young man of 26 years. He is six foot tall, blonde and as much of a gentleman as a sailor could be. He is a bit of a gambler and prays to the Laughing Rogue Olidammarra as well as Storm Lord Procan.

Churchill is the one calling the shots though, just ask him. Weighing in at over ten pounds and more than four years old, 'Church' is also a curoius explorer, but is far more aggressive than his svelte human companion. Church enjoys adventuring on land, but would prefer to be back aboard the Tempest though he knows she has been lost to pirates, and possibly sunk.

Arrival in the Sheldomar Valley

Three weeks now since making landfall, my decision to trek inland seeking to avoid being swept up into a rumored conflict on the Pomarj border had been a wise one. However, my funds are nearly exhausted now, and I have little in the way of prospects to improve my circumstances. I was able to win a night’s room and board in a friendly wager, but I expect living on luck cannot last.
Churchill seems to be adapting well to a landlubbers life, so long as we stick to civilized areas he has ample supplies of small game available to him, smaller than what he is accustomed to at the Hardby dock district.
Spell research has been put on an indefinite hold until sufficient funds can be located. As for myself I am finding the Valley to be a very agreeable change of scenery. The people are friendly and warm, the food is heartier than I’m used to but well seasoned. The temperate clime the valley is famous for gives rise to an infinite variety of wild flowers, great and small.