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.

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.

Treatise

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wins and Losses

(Freeday, 7 Readying)

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

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

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

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

Drums and Shadows in the Fog

Readying the 1st, Starday.

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

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

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

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

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

Setback and Escape

Godsday, 4th Fireseek

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

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

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

Critique

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

Dearest F (unintelligible),

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yours,

N