The museum is most pleased to have intact and for display this only correspondence to the Freemage Academy in Niole Dra, the finest school of all O’erth. With this one letter he cemented his legacy forever.
For the Vice Chancellor Countess Alina Elowyn
Lady, I Sir Kildare S. Redding, Knight Magoi of the Principality of Ulek in humble service to His High Serene Highness, Prince Olinstaad Corond humbly invites thee to grace my humble estate with the blessings of your wisdom. I have penned the first draft of a modern set of law for the institute of freemagery in the Principality and have included with this letter a copy for your agents to review and comment on prior to formal presentation to the Prince. Of far greater interest to you my lady, is a collection of recently discovered pre-cataclysm manuscripts in a terrible state of decomposition. I believe these are of Suelii origin, from beyond the Suel Imperium. These documents are beyond my humble grasp of true magic or language and perhaps beyond any, but with your vast learning and careful treatment of the documents, our world might benefit from even a small return of true magic into the hands of the good people of the Old Kingdoms Domains. The artifacts are in the care of my staff in Gryax, awaiting shipment to a more secure facility near Kaska, we will be at my estate in Havenhill should you chose to travel after the low summer festival, upon the conclusion of which we shall depart Gryax for the hill country estate. We have other artifacts as well, recovered from an ancient Shnai Jarl crypt, believed to be of the same period as the stone and brass manuscripts.
Blessed be,
Sir Kildare S. Redding
Knight Magoi of Kaska, Steward of Nornreddingkragg, High Spring Clan and Harbor I-Shnaihung
Friday, November 18, 2011
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Two stray log entries
Captains Log [date omitted]
Lordship of the Isle’s Patrol Intercepts Voyager to perform routine inspection. Brief scuffle occurs below decks as three men are identified as outlaws wanted by the lordship. Hooligan officers demand a bribe suggesting they’ll sink us if we don’t pay up. They take what they want, including the three scofflaws and depart.
We sail on Skirting the Spindrift to the East, the Lordship officers having informed us of open fighting in the sound. Planned next land fall at Kalport Bay in the corrupt formerly Great Kingdom. The thought of making landfall there sickens me, but I have no choice. We might not have enough supplies remaining aboard to make it that far, the eastward detour around the Spindrift Sound will take time and there are few ports I would consider friendly, and I expect no harbor here will honor requirements for courtesy to a diplomatic envoy.
Captain’s log [date omitted]
After the difficulties with the eastward bypass, we have found ourselves run aground. A mistake I fully accept as my own has put us on a shoal. The crew is working hard to drag Voyager off but it is back breaking work. The men complain loudly and so I’ve doubled rations for all hands hoping this will safely free out bottom before the spine cracks under her weight and an ebbing tide.
Lordship of the Isle’s Patrol Intercepts Voyager to perform routine inspection. Brief scuffle occurs below decks as three men are identified as outlaws wanted by the lordship. Hooligan officers demand a bribe suggesting they’ll sink us if we don’t pay up. They take what they want, including the three scofflaws and depart.
We sail on Skirting the Spindrift to the East, the Lordship officers having informed us of open fighting in the sound. Planned next land fall at Kalport Bay in the corrupt formerly Great Kingdom. The thought of making landfall there sickens me, but I have no choice. We might not have enough supplies remaining aboard to make it that far, the eastward detour around the Spindrift Sound will take time and there are few ports I would consider friendly, and I expect no harbor here will honor requirements for courtesy to a diplomatic envoy.
Captain’s log [date omitted]
After the difficulties with the eastward bypass, we have found ourselves run aground. A mistake I fully accept as my own has put us on a shoal. The crew is working hard to drag Voyager off but it is back breaking work. The men complain loudly and so I’ve doubled rations for all hands hoping this will safely free out bottom before the spine cracks under her weight and an ebbing tide.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Contiguous Log.
The only contiguous sectoin of log entries from this voyage are compiled here for you. It illustrates the very real dangers and harships sailors faced during the Navigator's era. Though mundane compared to rampaging monsters and witches, the threat of plague which can strike invisibly and is little understood in Kildare's time was quite terrifying.
Navigator’s Log [date unintelligible]
Plague has broken out.
3 men buried at sea:
S. Barhoss.
I. Maestro
Joseph H. Woken.
12 men ill, quarantined below decks. Ships surgeon has no treatment. For safety, at his urging bride relocated to Cape, under quarantine there, with Gallon. Upon sighting Talbot we signaled for Nastia to be transferred to help seek a cure. She arrived to report that two officers have died, and at least ten are ill.
The news spreads, the crew is restless, and all discipline has broken down. I recommend replacing the crew at next landfall.
Navigator’s Log [date unintelligible]
Fire aboard Voyager, one crewman attacked another with a torch during the evening meal. One of the men escaped from quarantine, strangled the other man to death even as he was being struck with the torch. Perry dispatched the attacker and warns the fellow may have been a ghoul. Rumor spreads and several more men fall ill, though no more perish. All are quarantined. The suspected Ghoul is treated by Perry and buried at sea. [The man’s name is erased from all logs and manifests]
The fire destroyed a number of spare spars and 23 yards of sail, and several caches of spare misc. rigging and lines. Two men injured in the fire, treated and returned to duty.
The Cape reports no illness, so far she is the only clean vessel. Nastia and Perry suggest exorcising the ship and the pair set about the task. The priest gains a number of converts who flock to him out of desperation and fear.
Two days from land.
Navigator’s Log [date unintelligible]
Land sighted, one man J. Falco is unaccounted for, presumed lost overboard. One infected man has taken his own life by hanging. No new cases or fatalities beyond the suicide. [Suicide also stricken from the logs-something superstitious sailors commonly did].
We anchor outside Dullstrode [Ahlissa] and assemble the remaining officers and crew. Talbot pronounces the plague and bad fortune over but offers to release any man with full pay for the voyage here. Everyone accepts the offer, and sign a pledge to not speak of the misfortune on the voyage thus far. This will not contain the tale I know, but my brother is hopeful. Unlike him, I’d have expected him to cajole or threaten the men with violence; instead he gives each a small bonus of eight silver coins apiece.
I am reunited with my bride, who is happy to see me it seems, I make the best of this rare good mood of hers and waste some time ashore with her. Talbot sets about recruiting new crews, three weeks for recruiting, refit and repairs. Nastia and Perry wish to further research the plague ashore. I warn them the people here may be strange to them, and ask them to exercise extreme discretion as they do this. They make some friendly contacts with good people who need some help and I join them while my wife who is advancing in her pregnancy, takes advantage of the opportunity to gorge herself on fresh food, cakes and chocolates. The ships surgeon tends to her with Gallon while I assist Perry and Nastia with the Cuthbertines ashore.
Captain’s Log [date unintelligible]
Fire aboard the Cape, 25 souls lost, and ship burnt to the waterline, a total loss. Damage to the mission of some thirty two hundred gold.
Talbot orders us to put to sea immediately; he suspects the townspeople were after his ship, or the Voyager, seeking to destroy the source of the plague after reports of similar outbreak in the harbor. We are safely away, Perry, Nastia, Gallon and the bride safe with me. No new master has been hired for Voyager so I spend more time on the bridge while Nastia works on the research I had left unfinished, she is close to a breakthrough I can feel it.
As to my brother and his state of mind, Nastia I fear is right – something is amiss. I wish my brother no ill so I request Perry to examine this matter by way of augury. I keep his findings in strictest confidence alerting only my body guard. I move into the larger captain’s cabin and move my family, Nastia, Perry and Gallon into my quarters. It’s cramped but quite rewarding to see all getting along so well.
Navigator’s Log [date unintelligible]
Plague has broken out.
3 men buried at sea:
S. Barhoss.
I. Maestro
Joseph H. Woken.
12 men ill, quarantined below decks. Ships surgeon has no treatment. For safety, at his urging bride relocated to Cape, under quarantine there, with Gallon. Upon sighting Talbot we signaled for Nastia to be transferred to help seek a cure. She arrived to report that two officers have died, and at least ten are ill.
The news spreads, the crew is restless, and all discipline has broken down. I recommend replacing the crew at next landfall.
Navigator’s Log [date unintelligible]
Fire aboard Voyager, one crewman attacked another with a torch during the evening meal. One of the men escaped from quarantine, strangled the other man to death even as he was being struck with the torch. Perry dispatched the attacker and warns the fellow may have been a ghoul. Rumor spreads and several more men fall ill, though no more perish. All are quarantined. The suspected Ghoul is treated by Perry and buried at sea. [The man’s name is erased from all logs and manifests]
The fire destroyed a number of spare spars and 23 yards of sail, and several caches of spare misc. rigging and lines. Two men injured in the fire, treated and returned to duty.
The Cape reports no illness, so far she is the only clean vessel. Nastia and Perry suggest exorcising the ship and the pair set about the task. The priest gains a number of converts who flock to him out of desperation and fear.
Two days from land.
Navigator’s Log [date unintelligible]
Land sighted, one man J. Falco is unaccounted for, presumed lost overboard. One infected man has taken his own life by hanging. No new cases or fatalities beyond the suicide. [Suicide also stricken from the logs-something superstitious sailors commonly did].
We anchor outside Dullstrode [Ahlissa] and assemble the remaining officers and crew. Talbot pronounces the plague and bad fortune over but offers to release any man with full pay for the voyage here. Everyone accepts the offer, and sign a pledge to not speak of the misfortune on the voyage thus far. This will not contain the tale I know, but my brother is hopeful. Unlike him, I’d have expected him to cajole or threaten the men with violence; instead he gives each a small bonus of eight silver coins apiece.
I am reunited with my bride, who is happy to see me it seems, I make the best of this rare good mood of hers and waste some time ashore with her. Talbot sets about recruiting new crews, three weeks for recruiting, refit and repairs. Nastia and Perry wish to further research the plague ashore. I warn them the people here may be strange to them, and ask them to exercise extreme discretion as they do this. They make some friendly contacts with good people who need some help and I join them while my wife who is advancing in her pregnancy, takes advantage of the opportunity to gorge herself on fresh food, cakes and chocolates. The ships surgeon tends to her with Gallon while I assist Perry and Nastia with the Cuthbertines ashore.
Captain’s Log [date unintelligible]
Fire aboard the Cape, 25 souls lost, and ship burnt to the waterline, a total loss. Damage to the mission of some thirty two hundred gold.
Talbot orders us to put to sea immediately; he suspects the townspeople were after his ship, or the Voyager, seeking to destroy the source of the plague after reports of similar outbreak in the harbor. We are safely away, Perry, Nastia, Gallon and the bride safe with me. No new master has been hired for Voyager so I spend more time on the bridge while Nastia works on the research I had left unfinished, she is close to a breakthrough I can feel it.
As to my brother and his state of mind, Nastia I fear is right – something is amiss. I wish my brother no ill so I request Perry to examine this matter by way of augury. I keep his findings in strictest confidence alerting only my body guard. I move into the larger captain’s cabin and move my family, Nastia, Perry and Gallon into my quarters. It’s cramped but quite rewarding to see all getting along so well.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Captain's Log One
Kildare begins a new log during his time at sea, few of the writings survive but this one has been restored for your viewing. The note from Ms. Leipzig has not survived the ravishes of the elements.
Three weeks at sea, we make our first land fall for fresh water at a small, little known island free of any national claims and kept secret by the various seaman who visit it for several reasons. It’s too small to fortify or defend, and it is really more an atoll than an island, it’s pure water spring and abundant fish, unique life that abounds here and soft sandy stretch of sand on the inside of the horseshoe shaped section of the island. We take on water and the three captains take a meal together on the beach. During our break my brother finally reveals the meaning of the poem, he says that it was a poem I had penned to him in a letter meant to convey that everything was well, despite the somber tone of the text. It was concealed in the manner that it was to make sure I knew it was from my brother, the same way I had taught him to conceal messages so long ago. A simple enough explanation but I can’t recall ever writing anything remotely poetic; perhaps I borrowed it from a shipmate?
As we broke from our meal Nastia slipped a note into my pocket – I would not have mentioned it or even noticed except that my dear wife had noted it and after we were back aboard Voyager, she decided to pull it from my pocket and read it aloud to me. The noted explained, in sparse detail that Ms. Leipzig had reason to believe my brother to be quite mad and asked for me to come up with some excuse for her to join me aboard Voyager for the next leg of our journey. I know my brother to be quite mad indeed and thought little of it, I planned then to reassure my friend that she was simply attracted to that kind of fellow it seemed, and she should not worry so much. Still her judgment and council are wise so I mull over her note now. My wife was disappointed not to see any secret affections or longing expressed, I assured her as best I know how that there would never be such a declaration from any woman. Probably not even my own wife.
I have ample free time aboard Voyager, the 1st mate was the master and commander prior to my arrival and so I let him handle the day to day chores, he knows the men and the vessel. This allows me to conduct some research and so I will, if she likes, extend an invite to my apprentice to join me. My wife will not join me in my laboratory and fears my cat statuette as well as many of my books and tools. You’d think I had a candelabrum made of human skulls and bones in my office. I think too she had discerned the secret bond between me and my cat and she has gone to considerable length to keep him at bay, wearing some warding charm against him, which of course he has just the other day stolen and I believe eaten.
Three weeks at sea, we make our first land fall for fresh water at a small, little known island free of any national claims and kept secret by the various seaman who visit it for several reasons. It’s too small to fortify or defend, and it is really more an atoll than an island, it’s pure water spring and abundant fish, unique life that abounds here and soft sandy stretch of sand on the inside of the horseshoe shaped section of the island. We take on water and the three captains take a meal together on the beach. During our break my brother finally reveals the meaning of the poem, he says that it was a poem I had penned to him in a letter meant to convey that everything was well, despite the somber tone of the text. It was concealed in the manner that it was to make sure I knew it was from my brother, the same way I had taught him to conceal messages so long ago. A simple enough explanation but I can’t recall ever writing anything remotely poetic; perhaps I borrowed it from a shipmate?
As we broke from our meal Nastia slipped a note into my pocket – I would not have mentioned it or even noticed except that my dear wife had noted it and after we were back aboard Voyager, she decided to pull it from my pocket and read it aloud to me. The noted explained, in sparse detail that Ms. Leipzig had reason to believe my brother to be quite mad and asked for me to come up with some excuse for her to join me aboard Voyager for the next leg of our journey. I know my brother to be quite mad indeed and thought little of it, I planned then to reassure my friend that she was simply attracted to that kind of fellow it seemed, and she should not worry so much. Still her judgment and council are wise so I mull over her note now. My wife was disappointed not to see any secret affections or longing expressed, I assured her as best I know how that there would never be such a declaration from any woman. Probably not even my own wife.
I have ample free time aboard Voyager, the 1st mate was the master and commander prior to my arrival and so I let him handle the day to day chores, he knows the men and the vessel. This allows me to conduct some research and so I will, if she likes, extend an invite to my apprentice to join me. My wife will not join me in my laboratory and fears my cat statuette as well as many of my books and tools. You’d think I had a candelabrum made of human skulls and bones in my office. I think too she had discerned the secret bond between me and my cat and she has gone to considerable length to keep him at bay, wearing some warding charm against him, which of course he has just the other day stolen and I believe eaten.
First Journal Concludes
This is the first time the navigator eludes to an heir arriving soon, it has been suggested that his bride was his apprentice and this authenticated document hasn't been able to put specualtion in that direction to rest, later documents never manage to put the idea of a trist between Kildare and his apprentice to rest though his bride is discussed as a wholy separate person, at odds even with Ms. Leipzig who is considered by scholars to be his first true apprentice.
And so I conclude this journal as it had begun, in my tiny cabin awaiting the tide shift so we can put to sea. There is for once no urgent matter before me, no cries for attention to some crucial matter from my friends or the state. Only the gentle lapping of the sea against the sides of Voyager, the creek of lines under load, and the foot falls of sailors on deck securing supplies for the journey. Naturally I make use of this time to reflect on the past few months’ activities that have brought me to this point while enjoying some rare pipe leaf brought by my brother from the Urnst highland.
I have decided to relocate to the coast, full time and to only retain an office at the Tower built for the defense of Kaska and the road along the frontier. The incursion that I feared would rekindle the hateful wars seems to have stalled indefinitely, the Thunderbloods having rolled back some enemy forces with vigor. Kaska to be sure has benefitted greatly from the traffic, mostly to the north from Haven Hill and points beyond, to the Ironhelm area where enemy activity continues to be reported. Hopefully the lack of returning traffic past my study window is not due to combat losses. My invitation to artisans and craftsmen to place their business on the increasingly busy path has seen a great expansion in the services available to Kaska, and enriched the town fathers while providing me a simple means by which to ensure the Prince receives his annual taxes without taxing my own income.
A new druid has arrived and has ensured us that the spring which feeds the Keep can be maintained quite easily; however she has expressed a number of troubling opinions about the arrangement of the orchards. While expensive and complex, I’ve decided to defer completely to her judgments about horticultural and agricultural matters. She has taken on two apprentices in Kaska and made fork grove her home where she instructs them. I try not to bother her too much, she is very forceful and I’ve had enough forceful strong willed women this summer to last a lifetime. Food production and variety have been increased and the fungus that plagued my own apple trees has been eradicated so I must thank her for that even if I dislike the cross breeding she insists on to prevent future outbreaks; I dislike the tart flesh of the hybrid fruit though she assures me I will prefer it baked in pastry. Again, I decided it best not to argue.
The women in my life continue to take increasing control. My former apprentice of course has helped to drive off another woman, a refugee with designs on my fortune, as expected but my own wife has proven quite impossible to contain. It is in no small part due to her urging in the form of thrown flatware, that I agreed to travel with my brother to the Thorillian on his diplomatic mission. And so my first heir is due shortly, hopefully not before our arrival at her family’s home along our path. I think I have managed a balance between them where their own rivalry over my various interests and attention intersect in such a manner as to preclude any focus on me – my bride is hopelessly jealous of Ms. Leipzig though less violently so than at their first meeting. And Ms. Leipzig is spending most of her time in the company of my handsome elder brother Talbot and so my wife treats her with increasingly cool civility worried she might plot with Talbot to steal my inheritance or something. It’s all quite annoying really, if not for the child on the way, I’d be alone or perhaps enjoying a short cruise aboard Escape with some dear friends.
The refugees have all been resettled and provided nicely for so they will survive the winter, including Tamara who is also serving as my personal archivist to my delight, she is patient, skilled and respectful of my holdings. I wish I could do more for them; in part that is the purpose of this mission -treasure. Several have settled at Kaska, and many in Gryax. Only a few opted to remain in Haven hill which bore little resemblance I have been told, to their original homes. Kaska’s people have been very welcoming and hospitable and more closely resembles many of their original settlements, and Gryax more so for obvious reasons. Two of the refugees have written me petitioning to be apprenticed. I have interviewed both of them and determined that while they are capable they haven’t enough foundational knowledge to begin the training. I set before them a simple task: spend a year under Cromwell’s care, at their own expense, with all their spare time in study. Cromwell is not a professional wizard trainer, but he knows how to open and prepare a mind certainly – and he probably knows more about wizardry than I am allowed to say I suspect.
On that subject I am happy to report the Council of Nobles has relented in opposing my position and title, for now. I think they have warmed to the idea of having a friendly wizard at their disposal with so few available in the principality and our kind being able to so quickly turn the tide of any battle, campaign or war. They likely have dispatched spies into my home, and I welcome them, to report on my activities as at least one noble has loudly declared he believes me to be an agent of T Mak and no ally of the dwur. I protested of course, citing my families own proud Keoish roots, my father having retired from the Navy after losing his foot, and my grandfather who perished in battle on the bridge of his own ship defending a young nobles barge from attack, a young noble who would then go on to become queen and mother of old Skotti himself. Most of the council was unaware of my ties to this land or my service to the crown in the Navy and after my name was recently cleared in the Tempest mutiny, I suspect even that loud mouth will come around and accept me as one of their most devoted defenders.
I have just received a wedding gift from Le Toux, it’s late and I had not expected one at all. A fine scarlet coat, with matching hat he insists in a note will be all the rage next season, with a dare to bravely be the first to sport it out in town. The buttons and braids are far less flamboyant than I had come to expect on a Le Toux selection, very tasteful and elegant antiqued pewter that compliments the scarlet nicely. Many pockets are included and so I will switch out of last season’s blue and gold though I am not quite sold on the hat – lost at sea I’m afraid. There is a purse with some jewels he had been saving and a bottle of special reserve single malt he says is for the baby and a pearl necklace for the wife. It’s quite stunning and clearly not something my ruffian bride would normally choose and so I will insist she wear it prominently and always, never revealing the humorous spirit in which it is given.
My brother has signaled just now to set the sea and anchor detail and so we are about to get underway. I close this journal on that happy thought, and with this one; Talbot has been able to confirm that father yet lives, and is safely away from his cell. I chose to believe he is correct and fully expect to see father upon our return trip which will include a stop in to Hardby. He has yet to explain the meaning of the secret poem in his letter but I expect that will come in due time.
And so I conclude this journal as it had begun, in my tiny cabin awaiting the tide shift so we can put to sea. There is for once no urgent matter before me, no cries for attention to some crucial matter from my friends or the state. Only the gentle lapping of the sea against the sides of Voyager, the creek of lines under load, and the foot falls of sailors on deck securing supplies for the journey. Naturally I make use of this time to reflect on the past few months’ activities that have brought me to this point while enjoying some rare pipe leaf brought by my brother from the Urnst highland.
I have decided to relocate to the coast, full time and to only retain an office at the Tower built for the defense of Kaska and the road along the frontier. The incursion that I feared would rekindle the hateful wars seems to have stalled indefinitely, the Thunderbloods having rolled back some enemy forces with vigor. Kaska to be sure has benefitted greatly from the traffic, mostly to the north from Haven Hill and points beyond, to the Ironhelm area where enemy activity continues to be reported. Hopefully the lack of returning traffic past my study window is not due to combat losses. My invitation to artisans and craftsmen to place their business on the increasingly busy path has seen a great expansion in the services available to Kaska, and enriched the town fathers while providing me a simple means by which to ensure the Prince receives his annual taxes without taxing my own income.
A new druid has arrived and has ensured us that the spring which feeds the Keep can be maintained quite easily; however she has expressed a number of troubling opinions about the arrangement of the orchards. While expensive and complex, I’ve decided to defer completely to her judgments about horticultural and agricultural matters. She has taken on two apprentices in Kaska and made fork grove her home where she instructs them. I try not to bother her too much, she is very forceful and I’ve had enough forceful strong willed women this summer to last a lifetime. Food production and variety have been increased and the fungus that plagued my own apple trees has been eradicated so I must thank her for that even if I dislike the cross breeding she insists on to prevent future outbreaks; I dislike the tart flesh of the hybrid fruit though she assures me I will prefer it baked in pastry. Again, I decided it best not to argue.
The women in my life continue to take increasing control. My former apprentice of course has helped to drive off another woman, a refugee with designs on my fortune, as expected but my own wife has proven quite impossible to contain. It is in no small part due to her urging in the form of thrown flatware, that I agreed to travel with my brother to the Thorillian on his diplomatic mission. And so my first heir is due shortly, hopefully not before our arrival at her family’s home along our path. I think I have managed a balance between them where their own rivalry over my various interests and attention intersect in such a manner as to preclude any focus on me – my bride is hopelessly jealous of Ms. Leipzig though less violently so than at their first meeting. And Ms. Leipzig is spending most of her time in the company of my handsome elder brother Talbot and so my wife treats her with increasingly cool civility worried she might plot with Talbot to steal my inheritance or something. It’s all quite annoying really, if not for the child on the way, I’d be alone or perhaps enjoying a short cruise aboard Escape with some dear friends.
The refugees have all been resettled and provided nicely for so they will survive the winter, including Tamara who is also serving as my personal archivist to my delight, she is patient, skilled and respectful of my holdings. I wish I could do more for them; in part that is the purpose of this mission -treasure. Several have settled at Kaska, and many in Gryax. Only a few opted to remain in Haven hill which bore little resemblance I have been told, to their original homes. Kaska’s people have been very welcoming and hospitable and more closely resembles many of their original settlements, and Gryax more so for obvious reasons. Two of the refugees have written me petitioning to be apprenticed. I have interviewed both of them and determined that while they are capable they haven’t enough foundational knowledge to begin the training. I set before them a simple task: spend a year under Cromwell’s care, at their own expense, with all their spare time in study. Cromwell is not a professional wizard trainer, but he knows how to open and prepare a mind certainly – and he probably knows more about wizardry than I am allowed to say I suspect.
On that subject I am happy to report the Council of Nobles has relented in opposing my position and title, for now. I think they have warmed to the idea of having a friendly wizard at their disposal with so few available in the principality and our kind being able to so quickly turn the tide of any battle, campaign or war. They likely have dispatched spies into my home, and I welcome them, to report on my activities as at least one noble has loudly declared he believes me to be an agent of T Mak and no ally of the dwur. I protested of course, citing my families own proud Keoish roots, my father having retired from the Navy after losing his foot, and my grandfather who perished in battle on the bridge of his own ship defending a young nobles barge from attack, a young noble who would then go on to become queen and mother of old Skotti himself. Most of the council was unaware of my ties to this land or my service to the crown in the Navy and after my name was recently cleared in the Tempest mutiny, I suspect even that loud mouth will come around and accept me as one of their most devoted defenders.
I have just received a wedding gift from Le Toux, it’s late and I had not expected one at all. A fine scarlet coat, with matching hat he insists in a note will be all the rage next season, with a dare to bravely be the first to sport it out in town. The buttons and braids are far less flamboyant than I had come to expect on a Le Toux selection, very tasteful and elegant antiqued pewter that compliments the scarlet nicely. Many pockets are included and so I will switch out of last season’s blue and gold though I am not quite sold on the hat – lost at sea I’m afraid. There is a purse with some jewels he had been saving and a bottle of special reserve single malt he says is for the baby and a pearl necklace for the wife. It’s quite stunning and clearly not something my ruffian bride would normally choose and so I will insist she wear it prominently and always, never revealing the humorous spirit in which it is given.
My brother has signaled just now to set the sea and anchor detail and so we are about to get underway. I close this journal on that happy thought, and with this one; Talbot has been able to confirm that father yet lives, and is safely away from his cell. I chose to believe he is correct and fully expect to see father upon our return trip which will include a stop in to Hardby. He has yet to explain the meaning of the secret poem in his letter but I expect that will come in due time.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Harvest Festival
There has been some question as to the veracity of this journal entry, it appears almost completely isolated from the collection of letters referenced and had been found in a private collection far removed from the provinces but it is featured for the first time in this collection for the benefit of researchers who might wish to debate it. If it is real, it shows a growing affection towards Nastia. One of the key reasons this letter is questioned is that the navigator's first heir is born soon after and there is no mention of an expectant mother to be, or the coming child, something historians agree the navigator would not have been able to resist writing about. This is one of the primary reasons the letter has been questioned, if it is real then it casts doubts on the claims of his kin to his fortune and lands, though there are other reasons a student of his writings would find to question its authenticity.
This year’s harvest festival arrived far too soon I had felt. There were so many things I wished to accomplish but had not been able to achieve this year. Curiously the enemy was quiet, the thrust I had expected had not come, and the Prince launched no great counter-offensive. The nobles bicker, and though I have attended only two gatherings, I have been kept abreast of developments by my thunderblood allies in the council. This year it seems the monsters of the pom were content to lick their wounds or too busy perhaps fending off Drazil's brethren who have waged successful harassment and infiltration campaigns against them. My own home remains unfinished, habitable and cozy but quite unfinished.
If not for the sweet companionship of Ms Leipzig I would be quite dour this week. She has seen to it that my new butler Dalton, newly acquired from her own staff, has been acquainted with the local markets and so he has been able to prepare a weak of feasts fit for a king of the thunderbloods, and so I an rejuvenated and quite happy despite my lack of production and the tiring summer labors we have endured.
Tonight I was enjoying a bit of fun with Nastia when she asked me why I kept an eye patch in my war kit. I teased her that I had once lost my eye in battle and was forced to sprout a new one. One of the thunderbloods who was in the feast hall and had lost his eye in battle then challenged me to show him how I had done this. I convinced him to go through the most ridiculous process of balancing a salt cube on his nose while standing on one foot and blowing into his thumb. I chanted over him and Nastia mouthed the words trying to pick up the incantation then, as I had expected the dwarf fell over, unconscious. The room erupted in laughter and poor Nastia realized that she too had been the butt of a joke. She slapped me of course and demanded the real story.
Once we were certain our one eyed dwur friend was alright, I told the hall why most pirates carry an eye patch in their kit. Of course this reminded me of the findings I had in researching werelight. I decided to finish that work this winter, and asked Nastia to remind me about that, she agreed if only I would not ask her to test the eye patch explanation. I relented of course, and asked Dalton to have one sized for my dear lady friend. The next evening, I was pleased to present her with her own appropriately decorated, blue silk and silver lace eye patch with a trio of tiny pearls studs. Churchill caught her in the stairwell trying to test it, and without the benefit of depth perception she enjoyed mixed results judging from Churchill’s sense of amusement.
Later I caught up with her again, as I counted out coins lost in a wager to Cade who I suspect cheated me yet again, I’ll catch him one day. Nastia had asked about a stack of letters beside me. Most I told her were routine matters, receipts for work done on the keep shell (which is now complete) and suggested plan revisions for the internal spaces resulting from the burgeoning village inside the shell.
There was one letter in particular she was curious about, one with particularly heavy leather wrapping. It was from my brother Talbot, it was cryptically brief “I’m setting sail to Gryax to see you in a fortnight, expect me to be no more than a moon behind this letter” and it hardly seemed worth the trouble to send she asked to inspect it accusing me of being overly crafty and having influenced her unduly. She held the paper to moon light and fire and found indeed my brother was hiding another message with the ink of a lime. I marveled at her clever intuition and let her read the contents. The content of the hidden message shed little light on the matter; it was a poem only that itself might hold some additional meaning. Nastia thought it might be a part of a spell, or a riddle and I dared her to solve it, she disappeared into her quarters taking a bottle of wine and a bowl of fruit with her.
I found another letter I had not opened, one that had arrived only a few days ago, sent by guild courier. It seems my insurance claim for my tools lost two years ago aboard Tempest had finally been paid, and the guild was holding 200 gold coins in trust for me to obtain new tools. I had to laugh, I was just at the guild a week ago and now I would have to travel again to claim the cash, which I needed desperately. I could send an agent but the road is dangerous now, several recently used monsters camps have been found and missing person reports are on the rise. I would have to make the trip myself. Even better, my name had been officially cleared of any wrong doing by the admiralty and for the first time, I was addressed by the Uleki court in written correspondence as Sir Redding. I read on, and learned a Tempest passenger had be found alive and appeared before the court to make a claim against the shipping company and its mutinous crew. The passenger’s identity was not noted but I decided to rush off first thing in the morning in hopes of thanking him for his testimony.
The other events of the summer that should be noted include the loss of dear Sam, who was a frequent sailing companion without him I might have become a land lubber long ago. When old friends are lost, new ones might appear. In this instance I have found another Cuthbert priest, this one a woman named Evelyn who is quite lovely, and the miscreant Igraine whose perfume lingers in some of my kit, as I suspect she planned in order to drive Nastia to madness. It would be a lie to say that I was not amused when I see her suddenly alert searching for her nemesis after fetching an item from my haversack. Le Toux’s grim work and detached lack of empathy might be driving a wedge between us, I haven’t spent enough time with working with him this year and what I was able to do I fear disappointed him. Gallon and I have been drawn closer however; at least as I am able to better engage in dialectic with him on matters of faith and conscience. I think he holds out hope I will see the error of my ways not realizing that error, is a part of my way, which I cannot hope or care to explain to him. I like him just as he is.
Tomorrow then I will depart to the coast once more, leaving Dalton in charge which has displeased Cade enough that he has said he might leave, despite coming no further along on our joint crusade to repair his ear. I think he’s beginning to accept that that will simply never happen and the appearance of daring do and dashing bravado the near miss provides him. The tale has been worth more than one free drink, and I wish him well of course, if he would only limit himself to what he alone can pilfer when he leaves.
This year’s harvest festival arrived far too soon I had felt. There were so many things I wished to accomplish but had not been able to achieve this year. Curiously the enemy was quiet, the thrust I had expected had not come, and the Prince launched no great counter-offensive. The nobles bicker, and though I have attended only two gatherings, I have been kept abreast of developments by my thunderblood allies in the council. This year it seems the monsters of the pom were content to lick their wounds or too busy perhaps fending off Drazil's brethren who have waged successful harassment and infiltration campaigns against them. My own home remains unfinished, habitable and cozy but quite unfinished.
If not for the sweet companionship of Ms Leipzig I would be quite dour this week. She has seen to it that my new butler Dalton, newly acquired from her own staff, has been acquainted with the local markets and so he has been able to prepare a weak of feasts fit for a king of the thunderbloods, and so I an rejuvenated and quite happy despite my lack of production and the tiring summer labors we have endured.
Tonight I was enjoying a bit of fun with Nastia when she asked me why I kept an eye patch in my war kit. I teased her that I had once lost my eye in battle and was forced to sprout a new one. One of the thunderbloods who was in the feast hall and had lost his eye in battle then challenged me to show him how I had done this. I convinced him to go through the most ridiculous process of balancing a salt cube on his nose while standing on one foot and blowing into his thumb. I chanted over him and Nastia mouthed the words trying to pick up the incantation then, as I had expected the dwarf fell over, unconscious. The room erupted in laughter and poor Nastia realized that she too had been the butt of a joke. She slapped me of course and demanded the real story.
Once we were certain our one eyed dwur friend was alright, I told the hall why most pirates carry an eye patch in their kit. Of course this reminded me of the findings I had in researching werelight. I decided to finish that work this winter, and asked Nastia to remind me about that, she agreed if only I would not ask her to test the eye patch explanation. I relented of course, and asked Dalton to have one sized for my dear lady friend. The next evening, I was pleased to present her with her own appropriately decorated, blue silk and silver lace eye patch with a trio of tiny pearls studs. Churchill caught her in the stairwell trying to test it, and without the benefit of depth perception she enjoyed mixed results judging from Churchill’s sense of amusement.
Later I caught up with her again, as I counted out coins lost in a wager to Cade who I suspect cheated me yet again, I’ll catch him one day. Nastia had asked about a stack of letters beside me. Most I told her were routine matters, receipts for work done on the keep shell (which is now complete) and suggested plan revisions for the internal spaces resulting from the burgeoning village inside the shell.
There was one letter in particular she was curious about, one with particularly heavy leather wrapping. It was from my brother Talbot, it was cryptically brief “I’m setting sail to Gryax to see you in a fortnight, expect me to be no more than a moon behind this letter” and it hardly seemed worth the trouble to send she asked to inspect it accusing me of being overly crafty and having influenced her unduly. She held the paper to moon light and fire and found indeed my brother was hiding another message with the ink of a lime. I marveled at her clever intuition and let her read the contents. The content of the hidden message shed little light on the matter; it was a poem only that itself might hold some additional meaning. Nastia thought it might be a part of a spell, or a riddle and I dared her to solve it, she disappeared into her quarters taking a bottle of wine and a bowl of fruit with her.
I found another letter I had not opened, one that had arrived only a few days ago, sent by guild courier. It seems my insurance claim for my tools lost two years ago aboard Tempest had finally been paid, and the guild was holding 200 gold coins in trust for me to obtain new tools. I had to laugh, I was just at the guild a week ago and now I would have to travel again to claim the cash, which I needed desperately. I could send an agent but the road is dangerous now, several recently used monsters camps have been found and missing person reports are on the rise. I would have to make the trip myself. Even better, my name had been officially cleared of any wrong doing by the admiralty and for the first time, I was addressed by the Uleki court in written correspondence as Sir Redding. I read on, and learned a Tempest passenger had be found alive and appeared before the court to make a claim against the shipping company and its mutinous crew. The passenger’s identity was not noted but I decided to rush off first thing in the morning in hopes of thanking him for his testimony.
The other events of the summer that should be noted include the loss of dear Sam, who was a frequent sailing companion without him I might have become a land lubber long ago. When old friends are lost, new ones might appear. In this instance I have found another Cuthbert priest, this one a woman named Evelyn who is quite lovely, and the miscreant Igraine whose perfume lingers in some of my kit, as I suspect she planned in order to drive Nastia to madness. It would be a lie to say that I was not amused when I see her suddenly alert searching for her nemesis after fetching an item from my haversack. Le Toux’s grim work and detached lack of empathy might be driving a wedge between us, I haven’t spent enough time with working with him this year and what I was able to do I fear disappointed him. Gallon and I have been drawn closer however; at least as I am able to better engage in dialectic with him on matters of faith and conscience. I think he holds out hope I will see the error of my ways not realizing that error, is a part of my way, which I cannot hope or care to explain to him. I like him just as he is.
Tomorrow then I will depart to the coast once more, leaving Dalton in charge which has displeased Cade enough that he has said he might leave, despite coming no further along on our joint crusade to repair his ear. I think he’s beginning to accept that that will simply never happen and the appearance of daring do and dashing bravado the near miss provides him. The tale has been worth more than one free drink, and I wish him well of course, if he would only limit himself to what he alone can pilfer when he leaves.
Monday, October 24, 2011
A rare letter to Perry
There is a conspicuous absence of correspondence and writings by the navigator during the remainder of the summer and early fall until this letter to Kildare’s priest. The letter is almost sortid and gossipy, possibly explaining his later run in with the rogue Igraine.
Honorable Brother Perry,
I wish first to apologize for departing without much detail and for taking Gallon from your mission to attend me on this summer’s expedition. Regrettably we were unsuccessful on many fronts, and I do hope you have fared better. I am again away from Havenhill on the morrow, and have missed you again. I hope you will trust that I have not forgotten my pledge to assist you in restoring the chapel we found ruined during last year’s incursion. It is amazing to me to think that it has already been a year passed, and another winter is drawing near –where has the time gone?
As I had said, I am traveling again, this time with a small group of the refugees [presumed to be from Ironhelm, Prinzfeld or Oakenburg] who wish to resettle in the capitol. Amongst them is a particularly curious young lady who apparently believes I have forgotten her. Her name is Igraine la fey, be wary of her if she should cross your path. I am not one given to gossip but in this case the consequences of mistaking this beauty for an ally could be grave. She is quite fetching, with a bright golden tresses and brilliant eyes that reflect a hint of sadness. She is of slight build with a peculiar identifying mark; her olven heritage has given her slender and sharp ears but they point downward, and the tips turn inward close to her head making them difficult to notice. She was a necromancy student at the Bar Harbor academy during my brief enrollment there. She was implicated in the disappearance of another student and was known to have seduced an instructor which eventually led to his own dismissal. She continued on at the school only briefly after that and then vanished into the underworld of the south district.
I cannot say how she came to be amongst the group of refugees but I know that she is shunned by more than a few of them. She is precisely the callous, cynical, and calculating woman that gives so many a bad names; she is of a type I can’t quite name or explain but that I cannot tolerate.
Today she has presented herself asking to join the venture to the capitol but I suspect she may return to Havenhill seeking to curry favor of Cromwell or other gentlemen known for susceptibility to the charms of an alluring young woman that might show them interest and a hint of lusty titillation. She might travel between the two cities carrying on illicit activities and you should be aware that she could harm your parishioners. I am sure she will not harm me, for she is aware of who and what I am, and while she believes I am clueless about her, I know at worst she will pilfer a few components or coins, of which I have few.
When I arrive at Gryax, Nastia will assuredly defend her territory and drive the would-be seductress away; possibly back towards you. Do not tolerate her wickedness; drive her from your sight she will not be turned to the narrow path of the wise fool.
Best wishes for all successes dear friend,
The Magoi Sir Kildare Redding
Honorable Brother Perry,
I wish first to apologize for departing without much detail and for taking Gallon from your mission to attend me on this summer’s expedition. Regrettably we were unsuccessful on many fronts, and I do hope you have fared better. I am again away from Havenhill on the morrow, and have missed you again. I hope you will trust that I have not forgotten my pledge to assist you in restoring the chapel we found ruined during last year’s incursion. It is amazing to me to think that it has already been a year passed, and another winter is drawing near –where has the time gone?
As I had said, I am traveling again, this time with a small group of the refugees [presumed to be from Ironhelm, Prinzfeld or Oakenburg] who wish to resettle in the capitol. Amongst them is a particularly curious young lady who apparently believes I have forgotten her. Her name is Igraine la fey, be wary of her if she should cross your path. I am not one given to gossip but in this case the consequences of mistaking this beauty for an ally could be grave. She is quite fetching, with a bright golden tresses and brilliant eyes that reflect a hint of sadness. She is of slight build with a peculiar identifying mark; her olven heritage has given her slender and sharp ears but they point downward, and the tips turn inward close to her head making them difficult to notice. She was a necromancy student at the Bar Harbor academy during my brief enrollment there. She was implicated in the disappearance of another student and was known to have seduced an instructor which eventually led to his own dismissal. She continued on at the school only briefly after that and then vanished into the underworld of the south district.
I cannot say how she came to be amongst the group of refugees but I know that she is shunned by more than a few of them. She is precisely the callous, cynical, and calculating woman that gives so many a bad names; she is of a type I can’t quite name or explain but that I cannot tolerate.
Today she has presented herself asking to join the venture to the capitol but I suspect she may return to Havenhill seeking to curry favor of Cromwell or other gentlemen known for susceptibility to the charms of an alluring young woman that might show them interest and a hint of lusty titillation. She might travel between the two cities carrying on illicit activities and you should be aware that she could harm your parishioners. I am sure she will not harm me, for she is aware of who and what I am, and while she believes I am clueless about her, I know at worst she will pilfer a few components or coins, of which I have few.
When I arrive at Gryax, Nastia will assuredly defend her territory and drive the would-be seductress away; possibly back towards you. Do not tolerate her wickedness; drive her from your sight she will not be turned to the narrow path of the wise fool.
Best wishes for all successes dear friend,
The Magoi Sir Kildare Redding
Friday, March 25, 2011
Second Log Compilations
In the second compilation of logs from the Navigator’s time aboard Escape, there is a great deal of damage owing perhaps to salt water exposure. What can be culled from the logs is a deep suspicion he harbors towards the Escapes crew, and wizard in particular but oddly not for its Captain. The Navigator alludes to a will he left with the captain and some other letters as well. Much of the information is unintelligible and what we do have is from a later entry summarized upon completion of his time aboard Escape en route to Bar Harbor.
Captain’s Log [Undated]
Once again I find myself in command of a punt, albeit the most luxurious and well constructed one I’ve ever sailed, and I am for a change not alone on this journey. I have bid my comrades farewell and invited only a young wizard [believed to his now graduated apprentice Miss Leipzig perhaps] to join me as I seek to locate my father to correct reports of my loss at sea. I have left the Escape as she returns to Gryax, being two weeks closer to Hard Bay here than there. Two weeks looking over my shoulder with Mr. D about was unappealing after having barely survived the action near Jeb’s Rock at Fax.
Stoppel’s treatment of my comrade’s wounds seemed more than adequate, his precautionary splinting seems to have greatly aided her healing and we have been able to remove it and discard it at dawn. We have had no rest but are near now the break water on the South Entry to Bar Harbor. Something troubles me about the city; it’s hard to know through the morning fog that makes this approach so dangerous. I have decided to drop anchor and wait for the sun to clear it away. We will pass the time with a nap.
Upon waking I found my partner hard at work duplicating my damaged notebook into the spare traveler I’ve trained her to keep, it seems I will have a fully functionally grimore after all. I smell cooking and sure enough she has managed to cook on the punts tiny stove. We dined on eggs, hard biscuit and tea while discussing my plans. A sail on the horizon: 2 masted square rigger black pennant. Thus it begins.
The Navigator’s journal ends abruptly here until it picks up again at the greybeards cabin.
Captain’s Log [Undated]
Once again I find myself in command of a punt, albeit the most luxurious and well constructed one I’ve ever sailed, and I am for a change not alone on this journey. I have bid my comrades farewell and invited only a young wizard [believed to his now graduated apprentice Miss Leipzig perhaps] to join me as I seek to locate my father to correct reports of my loss at sea. I have left the Escape as she returns to Gryax, being two weeks closer to Hard Bay here than there. Two weeks looking over my shoulder with Mr. D about was unappealing after having barely survived the action near Jeb’s Rock at Fax.
Stoppel’s treatment of my comrade’s wounds seemed more than adequate, his precautionary splinting seems to have greatly aided her healing and we have been able to remove it and discard it at dawn. We have had no rest but are near now the break water on the South Entry to Bar Harbor. Something troubles me about the city; it’s hard to know through the morning fog that makes this approach so dangerous. I have decided to drop anchor and wait for the sun to clear it away. We will pass the time with a nap.
Upon waking I found my partner hard at work duplicating my damaged notebook into the spare traveler I’ve trained her to keep, it seems I will have a fully functionally grimore after all. I smell cooking and sure enough she has managed to cook on the punts tiny stove. We dined on eggs, hard biscuit and tea while discussing my plans. A sail on the horizon: 2 masted square rigger black pennant. Thus it begins.
The Navigator’s journal ends abruptly here until it picks up again at the greybeards cabin.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Unique Star Logs (first compilation)
In a most unusual move, the Navigator sailed without contract negotiated by his guild, and in a still more unusual move, the Navigator copied each star log entry into his personal journal. His reasons for this cannot be discerned though it becomes clear later that he has embarked on a most dangerous mission, and his copious notes may have been kept to insulate him from prosecution in admiralty court for hazarding the Escape.
Navigators Star Log, Freeday, 28 Readying
Navigator Redding in Escape.
Two days at sea. Celene sighted 4 points broad abeam port, waning. Seas glassy, wind from the south, speed 11 knots, ballast dry (1 hand) at 4 bells. Course: ESE, 111 dg, Mate 1st Fenice at the helm. Fire watch is set, smoking lamp is lit. Mast sighted at noon, passed starboard, no flag or pennant.
Personal Journal
The past week has been a blur with little time to reflect on the events, inventory thoughts or work with my apprentice. She seems more than ready to begin working independently, she needs me now only for polish and tactical employment which in her future endeavors will be moot as she moves into some court or royal wizards stable where she will be provided her own host of men to defend her virtue.
This evening on the fo’c’sle I was able to reach that special place of complete peace and time stood still there entranced by the gossamer dance of moonlights finger over gently stirring seas. I feel again as a child, in pure awe of the world, filled with the strength for a full life not yet begun, indomitable, fearless and indestructible.
I brought my journal with me to reflect as Church decides to steal my best quill and knock it overboard.
This venture began with a summoning to Havenhill, Le Toux is a member of some lodge or other there it seems, and he was there waiting for us. As non members my team was stabled at the pig and whistle where we rejoiced in the spring warmth, the last of the winter mead, and a good game of bones. Gallon had won the evening and his winnings drew the attention of not a few of the working ladies there. I lost track of my favorite companion later that night as business intervened to ruin another otherwise perfect evening.
The reunion of friends was purposed on a matter of critical state importance, and as such I lead my staff to Gryax ahead of our patron to inspect the vessel we would be embarked upon and to make some inquiries into her master.
We stopped short of Gryax that evening, due to a burr one of the horses had picked up and we could not mend in the dark. We were ambushed by a Pomarj patrol of gnolls, of the low country/swamp variety, smaller and lighter than the Cairn Hills variety, they are typical of the type found cooperating with the other monsters of the pomarj, and known to have inhabited this territory since before the kingdom, or the men of moradin. They gave us quite a thrashing but two days later we were none the worse for wear.
I had personally failed to keep a prisoner I took, after misjudging the disposition of the hunting parties’ main body and reconnaissance elements owing to the echo in the hill country. We had also lost all of our baggage and mounts; abandoned hastily in an effort to maneuver defensively. A number of the beasts were felled and left there on the road. When we reached the frontier of the capitol’s outlying settlements we were greeted by a young soldier, Greg I believe he was his name, a corporal if I recall. He and a colleague had slain another gnoll that was pursuing a member of my staff that had become separated from the rest of us in the battle. I must remember to send him and his unit a gift from Kaska.
Our troubles were not completely behind us in Gryax. I had a wonderful meeting with Lord and Lady Leipzig, and was not surprised that they had expected me to be returning their daughter and ending her apprenticeship. I was not surprised by this and had a prepared response to help them understand clearly that I had no intention of giving up my gifted apprentice.
I had happened upon her note-taker, unbound and hastily tossed into the luggage that was salvaged. I could not resist the temptation to examine it at least briefly. I told myself it was in her best interest that I know what her understanding was of some of the complex problems I had given her. I should be careful not to discuss in detail my findings, except to say her vision and understanding of the world beyond knowing is advanced. The apprentice is certain to completely gain the wizards eye and vision ere the summer. It is most fortunate I remember the early steps into the arena of the gods, the courage it took to stand naked and helpless before them, then dare to steal their power. Still there are items within her note taker that are most troubling. I am unsure what the solutions to these problems are but I believe that out on the sea, the solution will become clear.
Still more troubling, her suitor Mr Finnegan who was now a part of my staff had been ambushed and assaulted by some locals. His lack of impulse control to blame no doubt. I learned also that Lady Leipzig is aware of the affair he and my apprentice are carrying on with. This I felt relieved me of at least some responsibility to supervise the two as her mother could certainly intervene if she wished.
All of this is quite enough but there is something that weighs more heavily upon my heart. Upon checking in at the Guild Hall, I found a full barrel of letters that had been misrouted and only now found me. It seems that two of my brothers have passed away, and word had reached home that I was taken at sea by slavers before I could get word home to tell everyone that I was quite safe. Father sold our family home to purchase a sloop. He crewed his ship with the worst dregs of our Hardy slums and prisons, and set out to rescue me.
Father is too old to be racing about the world fighting slavers or pirates, and I haven’t the slightest idea why he would destroy our family fortune to find me, one of seven sons, and arguably the least successful of them all. With the two deaths in the letters, and the others before there are still two others left alive. None of my correspondence reached home until this spring and my friends have been writing frantically.
I sent a message back after berating the Guild Postal Services Adjunct for his incompetence. Asking my friends to send out the word that I am established in Ulek, and working for the Regent. I plan after this mission to find my father and will keep a sharp lookout for his sloop while we sail up the wooly coast. The harbor master here has no reports on her location, she has not put in here.
Finally coming aboard Escape though but me at ease and made the impossible reunion with my father and home, seem within reach.
My staff has adapted well, Stoppel seems to have found a second calling and may rise to admiral of Moradin’s fleet, should the Oerth ever see such an institution.
Starday, 1Coldeven
Navigator Redding in Escape.
Three days at sea. Star Gilnus sighted 24 dgr elv, abeam port through clouds. Seas rising swiftly, wind erratic, speed 8 knots, ballast dry (1 hand) at 2 bells. Course: ESE, 111 dg, Captain Demsko at the helm. Extra lookouts posted, smoking lamp is out. Visibility limited to under 1 mile as fog and clouds build. Strom approaching from the east, our course will lead us into the northern edge. Extra ration of rum given the crew as the temperature has dropped precipitously.
Sunday, 2 Coldeven
Navigator Redding in Escape
Four days at sea. Dead Reckoning, no sighing of sun or star. Seas are heavy, cresting at 8 feet, ballast is at 1 foot, pumps manned at 4 bells. Course: 038 dg, Bosun at the Helm. Sails trimmed, lookouts tethered, smoking lamp is out. Visibility is near zero. Speed 13 knots, aided by rotation of storm and following swells.
Moonday, 3 Coldeven
Five days at sea. Sun 3 points port astern, 36 dgr elv, Seas calm, wind light from the west, speed 10 knots. Ballast dry at 4 bells. Course 033 dg, Quartermaster at the Helm. Lookouts secured, smoking lamp is lit. Passed HMS Triumphant she was making 11 knots heading SSE under full sail with outriggers.
Personal Journal
More details now have emerged of our patron’s plan. The regent has commissioned us only to investigate reports of a breeding facility for hybrid monsters. I have informed our patron that I endeavor to kill any who carry arms of the pomarj, and liberate any prisoners I come across in addition to this reconnaissance mission. He had us landing along Fax coast, I have advised a shift towards BH and friendly dwur native territory. I have begun outfitting the skiff for the mission and drilling my staff for battle should we find the enemy. They know I will take them into harm’s way, and are ready; Gallon most grimly so. He has obvious mixed feelings about our task and my attempts to lighten the mood with humor have had mixed results. Fortunately his mood is not affected by being tossed in a storm though he has not taken to the see with the same abandon as our priest.
Ms. Leipzig has voiced a preference for the Shield magic, over armor for defense. I was embarrassed to say I had not the formula. She had produced it saying it was perhaps incompletely copied from her previous instructor, I am working with her now to fill in the missing bits, and such a task is akin to inventing the spell anew and will take us some time. No doubt she will stumble into the answer just when it is most needed. As a short term, obvious combat spell, it is possible adrenaline and certain muscle memory actions are what’s missing so we have asked Stoppel, who is quite handy with a shield, more so perhaps than Gallon, to help us.
Friday, December 10, 2010
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?
Thursday, December 9, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
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.
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.
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.
Monday, November 1, 2010
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
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
Friday, October 22, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
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.
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.
Friday, August 13, 2010
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…
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…
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