Scott
Man at Arms
Sir Scott of the Rainbow Light
Yeeeesssss?
Posts: 116
Leagues Played: Character League, Club League, Adult League, Falnorian
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Post by Scott on Oct 1, 2015 16:51:25 GMT -8
Dying. Sucks. I can’t emphasize this enough. I mean, getting stabbed is alright, I guess, but dying is just plain inconvenient. And dying dying…well that’s a veritable pain in the ass. I died three times today. The first time was because I jumped off a cliff after rolling some bodies down, since we were on the plateau and the guy with our rope had been teleported back to Mandel. The trick is to land head first, since if your skull bursts right of the bat you don’t really have time to think about the rest of your body being turned in a somewhat messy pancake. So yea. That was fun. The second time I died I don’t really remember, so I can’t really speak to how nasty that one was. Come to think of it, so far none of my deaths have been that painful, just a bit time consuming…huh. Maybe death isn’t so bad? Well, besides the whole “chance of having death come on by and drag your soul on to the afterlife” thing, or whatever the hell happens when he/she/it gets its bony hands on someone’s spirit. The third time I died involved a whole lot of walking corpses, and a skeleton with antlers and green glowing eyes. Note to self: green/glowing anything is bad news. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary, since whatever it is it is probably fully capable of messing you up. Or it may be a wimp. I don’t really know enough about undead to make many claims, but glowing just seems like a good thing to avoid in general. Anyway, it seems as though it just so happened that death was having a lazy day, and decided to pay me a visit. I hadn’t really been to worried about that happening since I had died so few times, but I should have expected something like that to occur. After all, it’s not like life has a habit of sending good things my way. Luckily, before I was dragged off to whatever afterlife awaits me my god intervened. Now, I do not know why a deity devoted to war would give a damn about someone like me, who has done so little to draw his attention, but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Anyway, I remember very little of being dead, other than the sensation of two hands reaching out towards me. One seemed angry, and ready to fight for me. I assumed that hand was my gods, for obvious reasons. The second hand felt calm and very close. I don’t have the foggiest who’s hand that was. I don’t like unknowns, so there was no way in hell I was going to grab onto the hand of some entity I knew nothing about, especially since my god was watching. So I took my gods hand, of course, and given that I am clearly not dead I would say that my choice worked out alright. Oh yea, and besides dying some other stuff happened today, though I wasn’t there for most of it. Some prisoners were escorted to Mandel by way of the tunnels that riddle the plateau, and a group of bandits that had been harassing caravans going up the Switchroad were dealt with. I was actually there for that one, but it wasn’t very hard. The first time another part of our group ran into the bandits they were trashed, so we brought more people this time and stomped them. To be honest, given the number of guards in Mandel I’m surprised the bandits hadn’t been dealt with already, since they were only slightly more skilled than us. I’m sure that a small group of warriors could have dealt with them fairly easily. But then again, I suppose that is what we are here for. There were also some talk about a baby drake, but I don’t know the details. Also, spiders are eating goats. No one wanted to go after them though since their blood would destroy whatever we used to damage them, and given that most of us don’t have much cash at the moment that would be a bit of a problem. Anyway, that’s all I guess.
--Katherine Grey, Mandel.
P.S. Next time take notes at time of event, or write it soon after said events. Remembering this stuff is hard, and dying a bunch hasn’t helped.
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Scott
Man at Arms
Sir Scott of the Rainbow Light
Yeeeesssss?
Posts: 116
Leagues Played: Character League, Club League, Adult League, Falnorian
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Post by Scott on Jan 27, 2016 1:29:44 GMT -8
Valdimar Roriksson A record of Firstmoon 24, 122.3.2 Well, I figured it was about time I started keeping one of these things. I would have started earlier, but I was gone for six and a half weeks right after I first got to Mandel and didn’t have enough time to write some of that stuff down, and sometimes my memory ain’t the best. Yeah I know, I know. Not exactly the best trait for a researcher like myself, etc. etc. But that’s just how it goes, and I get by just fine. Anyway, that’s why I was careful to write everything down this time around before I went traipsing of to Falnin again. At worst I lose a few details here and there, but that’s just the way life works. No use getting all uptight about it. Can you imagine trying to read a book that recorded every single detail of every single thing at every single damned moment? Ha! It would be downright awful! An impressive tome I’m sure, but probably as boring as all get out. So yea, that’s why I’ve skimmed over some things for anybody who was wondering. Then again probably not many of you were until I brought it up, so I guess it’s my own damn fault for making me need to explain away something that would have otherwise needed no such explanation and then explain why I didn’t need to explain it. But, enough of that! How about some context, eh? Since this will be my first time writing a “chronicle” how about I start with a generic introduction? No good book is complete without well-developed characters! And since I’m the main character of this little text, it wouldn’t hurt for you to get to know a bit about me. Oh, I’m sure some of you are getting all worked up about how I’m claiming to be the “main character” when I don’t have control of the narrative, and the universe hardly revolves around me. Well, if you don’t like it go write your own damn records, and I’ll just stay here and pen what I please! Narrator’s prerogative, and all that. Anyway, who am I, the mysterious man behind the pen? Well, my name is Valdimar Roriksson, which you would already know if you’d bothered to read the top of this page, and I am an adventurer. Which means I do adventury stuff, like dying. and ignoring the rules. Or at least I’ve done the whole dying thing a few times. Mandel ain’t really the place to go breaking the rules. So yea. I’ll just pretend I didn’t say that. Not that I’ve done any rule-breaking, of course. Damnit. This just keeps sounding more and more suspicious, doesn’t it? I’m 26, just in case any of you gave a damn, and I work primarily as a scribe and historian in my spare time. Oh, and I’m also a Sorcerer, which is going to be important once I actually get around to the whole “making magic” thing that I ought to be doing. Which I really should do soon, now that I’m a bit better at it. In particular I’m a Flame Sorcer, with a splash of Necromancer and Healer for good measure, which means I (eventually) will specialize in making things explode and being an all-around badass. Anyway, that’s enough of that! On to the more interesting bits. And yes, I do realize that I just called myself boring, and I will admit I do on occasion (read: any time I get the damned chance) go a bit overboard with the research, but it’s not that often. Most of the time I’m more engaging. Except when I’m reading. Which, come to think of it, is most of the time. So…actually, nevermind. Let’s just proceed, shall we? I decided not to go on the first mission of the day, since it involved heading into the tunnels and I absolutely hate those damn things. Crawling with undead and other nasty things, and as loath I am to admit it I’m hardly useful in a fight right now. My natural talent with Sorcery prevents me from using any standardized magic, my mind just doesn’t, seem to work that way. So, even though training as a Sorcer does give one access to certain abilities that would be useful otherwise I can’t use a single one of them, which is a shame. So yeah, I decided not to go and settled down to wait for everyone to come on back. Of course I was assuming that they would come back, although on second thought that could well not be the case next time, given all the shit down in those tunnels. But everyone did come back eventually, and I got some info on what went down in the warm, dark underground. There were some undead, giant spiders (including one that was an undead of some sort), giant snakes with a bunch of little stubby legs, and some giant bats that spit acid. Lovely. Lot’s of giant things that want to eat you, methinks. The next mission was to go and check out some weird-ass patrols from Eldspell and Gildmar, and it seemed interesting enough so I decided to come with. My mistake, apparently, because I’ll be damned if there weren’t more gods be damned undead crawling everywhere. There was a fight (duh) and something or other stabbed me, which sucked and got blood all over my clothes, and then stuck me up in a high place out of the way. I bled out due to the whole “there’s a gaping wound in my chest and nobody to help oh gods that’s a lot of blood and well shoot looks like I’m dead” thing, so I ended up wandering back to Mandel a bit early. From what I understand some other stuff happened on the way, like bandits and some party lizards, but the patrols are the important bit. Turns out the Eldspell patrol was mostly warriors and didn’t have any insignias, which is weird. ‘Cause, you know, Eldspell is mostly mages. And these guys had armor, or at least most of them did. So yeah. Weird. As for the Gildmar patrol, I…actually don’t know anything about that. Never asked, I guess. Oh well. Sorry. You’ll just have to go read somebody else’s chronicles, or something. The third mission of the day was pretty standard, and as usual stupendously dull--prison duty. But, well, it pays, and I need book money from somewhere. Unlike last time I was on high-security guard duty nothing to extraordinary happened, meaning no magical barriers being torn about and undead appearing out of nowhere. I did have a fairly polite conversation with some guy named Adrian, from Ardel. Said he’d been in prison for fifteen years, something to do with being kicked out of power? He also might have mentioned war crimes to. Honestly I don’t really remember all that much. Like I said, not the best memory, you know? He wanted something to read, but I doubt I’m allowed to bring anything into the prisons. Too much risk, security breach, yadda yadda yadda, the whole spiel. I can figure it out on my own, thank you very much. Anyway, there was something going on in another part of the prison but I couldn’t see and I didn’t want to just up and leave, so I ain’t got the foggiest idea what the hell was going on. Doesn’t seem to have been dangerous though, since no one got yelled at as far as I know and nothing tried to murder us. Now the fourth mission, that one was really, really cool! And dangerous, and potentially deadly, and interesting and intriguing and a whole lot of other adjectives, but mostly cool. I mean, watching a lesser demon, an angel, a hellhound, and a golden deer duke it out was pretty awesome. Pity the angel lost. We had been sent out to investigate some strange unidentifiable animals, and ran across the badass mess I just described. Most of our party jumped into the fight by trying to help the angel, but I missed a big chunk of that because I got my organs all messed up by the demon when it stuck it’s hand through my gut and died, because one’s organs ought to stay put damnit! But then somebody rebirthed me, so I got to see the end. And by end I mean I saw the angel die, and then most of the party left, except for me and a guy named Feydrin. We tried to get the angel out of there, but I think Feydrin got killed and that flame-eyed mutt charmed me using Sorcery of some sort. Pretty soon the charm wore off, and the demon and the mutt ran off. So yeah. That was a thing. As an aside, I have decided that I am decidedly, most definitely, and unequivocally not a dog person. Especially not a hellhound person. Screw that. I prefer weasels, clever little bastards that they are. Or maybe dormice. Not really sure on that count, but definitely small furry things. Big black dangerous furry things are a big no on my list. And so are cats. Cats are evil. Anyway, the fifth Oh, right! I almost forgot! When we all got back from the mission with the angel and stuff we spoke with the necromancer (I probably should learn her actual name at some point, but eh, who cares for now?). She kept using metaphors of chess, and talked about seeing things. Probably important stuff, but hell if I know what it means. So yeah. Metaphors! Continuing with the fifth mission, this one was a bit different. It was a secret mission commissioned by Alexis, but I wasn’t done with my book yet so I decided to sit it out and kick back for a bit. Apparently it had something to do with an orphanage, and a child that wasn’t actually a child? I only got involved because some guy from our party suddenly appeared in the middle of the End of the Tunnel, told us to grab our stuff if we wanted to join “the chase.” Having no idea what he meant at the time I of course did the logical thing and sprinted in the direction he had indicated. Turns out there was some freaky shit going on, but I don’t know the details. Apparently the child—which wasn’t really a child but rather some sort of soul-shifting monstrosity that we encountered once before—had taken control of Alexis in some way, when prompted said something about the spider working for it, and then ran from the city. I joined up with the group following it, and it led us on a chase until it got dark, and we ran straight into a Gildmar military camp. Suffice it to say that some stuff happened, tensions, arguing, etc. etc. After a bit we ended up waiting in a tent for a long-ass time, and eventually were met by King Harkin Gilead of Gildmar, of all people. He seemed to have come straight from a battle, and questioned us as to our reasons for being there. One of the people in our party, Aria, did most of the talking, and explained what we were following and why. In the meantime I just sat there and tried not to look like an idiot, which was harder than I had expected. I think it’s the purple hat. Maybe I ought to get rid of it, in favor of something a little less…flashy? It does occasionally become awfully distracting, when it slips down over my eyes. Fashion aside, eventually King Gilead explained some of the situation to us. It involved Gildmar’s attempts to retake the Wildlands and the ruins of an old city (Halihime? Halihar? Something like that, anyway. Or am I thinking about mountains? I’m sure someone else got it somewhere, so I’m not overly concerned) that lies in the middle. Apparently as one gets closer to the center planes and magic starts acting all weird-like, and everyone who has gone into the city has not come out. So, of course, we went to the city, still following that damned not-child despite all the bizarre animals that we encountered along the way. We eventually found ourselves in the ruins, outside a large and fairly well-preserved building. There were other things nearby as well: one figure that looked just like one of the prisoners in the high-security prisons, one that looked like a ghoul except without the whole “rotting undead” vibe, another that was made out of a bunch of little frogs with rows of shark teeth, and a fourth that resembled a tumbleweed made out of octopus tentacles. So yeah. Delightful company, I would say. There was some quick conversation with the not-child, who was standing in the doorway and now resembled a slightly hazy, very large human, but I was to far away and to focused on watching that bizarre tumbleweed to hear. Something about the King being inside? Anyway, eventually we entered. A spectacular black carpet led up to a throne, on which was seated a looming figure that was absolutely huge. And not just big, either: the shadowy being seemed to loom over us, even though it was seated. This was the King, I presume, given the whole “sitting on a throne” thing. Three other enormous figures surrounded the throne, but they seemed slightly smaller. One wore an intricate grey mask and a bizarre set of (nice looking) black clothes, and he was really sassy. I like him the most, I think. The second figure wore a red mask with a crest of feathers and armor under his robes, and the third had a black mask with silver tears down the side. But forget all that—the King used Elder Sorcery! Yes, I know you probably want to know what happened. But, honestly, I’m not all that concerned with it. Other people have the details I’m sure, and yes they’re important, but my hand’s getting tired and I want to end this soon so I won’t worry about all that stuff for now. Instead, Elder Sorcery! I am of course familiar with what Elder Sorcery, but to actually witness, hear, and feel its use is something else entirely! It was like…the King said a word, and the word was “bow”, but not in the same way that we use it. What he said was the very essence of the act, and by assumedly combining his will and energy with that word he was able to make us bow despite our opposing desires. Truly an awesome power, and I must say the effect is quite intimidating. So. I guess that’s all for now. The people who didn’t follow the not-child did something else involving pretending to be undead in the tunnels, but I wasn’t there and don’t know anything about it. Except that there were a lot of undead, which is sorta an obvious statement given that these are the tunnels we are talking about. Oh, and we eventually made it out of the throne room after chatting for awhile. Some people did some stuff, one person got their neck broke and another almost did but didn’t, and then we walked back to Mandel. And that’s it, for now. I’ll probably rewrite this later to include more details, but this’ll do. Or maybe I won’t. That seems like a lot of extra work…yeah, this will definitely do just fine. Valdimar
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Scott
Man at Arms
Sir Scott of the Rainbow Light
Yeeeesssss?
Posts: 116
Leagues Played: Character League, Club League, Adult League, Falnorian
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Post by Scott on Mar 1, 2016 20:42:42 GMT -8
Valdimar Roriksson A Record of Secondmoon 28, 122.3.2 I got to test out my new spells a few days ago! It makes things explode, which is messy, but useful. I don’t really do the whole fighting thing very well, but magic really helps to even it out, know what I mean? I don’t care how many times I would need to stab you to get you to stop trying to do the same to me, if I get you with sorcery and you blow up you’re dead either way. So yeah. Not sure quite how I feel about killing people with it though. I mean, I knew coming into this that I would probably end up killing a whole lot of people, that’s sort of what mercenaries do (and we are mercenaries, of a sort). But, I hadn’t anticipated doing so in such a…spectacular fashion. I should really make some non-lethal combat spells sometime in the near future. Oh, right! Speaking of making spells, I got to improvise some rituals earlier too! Which was pretty cool, since I’ve never done it before. One fumbled and sorta exploded in my face, but that’s not my fault. Or at least, I don’t think it is. I just underestimated the power of those glowy purple magic stones I was doing the ritual on. What stones, you ask? Well, there were these people robbing graves for parts to make magic items, and they were trying to get through a bunch of stone to get at some magic rocks they thought were buried in there, and I should probably take this in order, shouldn’t I? Sorry, I get exited when I talk about magic (duh, you’ve been reading these so far, you should know that already). So, to begin at the beginning: the day started with all of us adventurers meeting with Lord Mandol. I think that’s how it’s spelled, anyway. Honestly I’m not sure…I’ve only heard his name pronounced before. Mandel? Mandal? Mandle? Whatever, you all know who I mean. So, we talked with Lord Mandol, and he told us there were some important Falnin people on their way to the city. Apparently the inspection last month had not been favorable. So, we went to clean out the tunnels ahead of them to make Mandel look good, or something like that. I didn’t go. I had just gotten back from Falnin and had a bunch of notes to sift through. And I wanted to test out my new ability! There’s magic everywhere you look, it’s really cool! Sort of amazing really. I imagine this is a bit like having spirit guide or something, there’s this whole world that most people are unaware of that’s just there for those who can detect it. It’s useful for my research too. It’s just common sense that it’s easier to manipulate something if you can see it, so I’m hoping being able to see magic will make my experiments and spell creation easier. Anyway, back to the tunnels. Like I said I didn’t go, but it didn’t take the people who did long to come back. Skeletons had massacred them apparently. I’m glad I didn’t go, since dying isn’t the most pleasant of experiences, and it sounds like there were a lot of skeletons. And that was just the beginning of the tunnels. Since they returned so soon Lord Mandol sent them out again, and this time more people came along. Clerics, specifically, which are good against undead because of clericy things they can do, like Turn Undead and stuff. I wouldn’t know exactly, I’m not a cleric, obviously. This time the party that went crushed the skeletons and swept all the way through the other undead, and returned successful. By this point I had finished getting all my scribbles in order, so I joined the party for the next mission. We were going to go investigate some smoke near a village, which had been there since before dawn. One of my fellow adventurers, who works as an innkeeper, apparently had been poking about for more information and discovered that there was a fire that had been burning throughout the night, so we hurried on our way. It was a ways out from town though, so we had to do some walking. That’s all right though; I like walking. Gives me time to think, which may or may not be a good thing depending on what exactly I’m thinking about. Usually it involves spells and being a badass, but sometimes it’s about serious things, like research and history and stuff like that. Sometimes I just stare at stuff and don’t think about much of all, but that tends to get boring quickly. As we walked I was mostly thinking about flame-based Sorceries, since we were heading out to a fire after all. But I was pulled out of my thoughts by an encounter with some ogres and trolls of various colors who were passing by. Many were injured, and they seemed quite scarred about something. Said something was tracking them. There wasn’t really much we could do at the moment though, and we were on something of a tight schedule, so we passed them by and continued on our merry way. Or hurried way, I guess, since we were trying to get to the village as quickly as possible. I never did manage to get there, though, since I ended up dying. I was thinking about spells again, see, and then out of nowhere everyone started running. I couldn’t tell why at first, but then a cold feeling rushed over me and spectral undead started popping out of the ethereal plane. Which sucked, since there were a lot of them, and I was all by myself. But, my new explosion spell was useful, and I got away for the moment. But, I also discovered a slight problem with the spell in regards to undead. See, undead have the nasty tendency to put themselves back together when you kill them, which isn’t really fair when you think about it. I mean, they’re hard enough to kill as it is, being already dead and all that, and they usually have all sorts of annoying, powerful, and oftentimes deadly abilities that living things just don’t. And then, on top of all that, you have to kill them multiple times! Unfortunately, because of this the undead I was able to explode just got back up after a little while, since I only have so much mana and there were an awful lot of undead. A few stood out too, which is pretty much always a bad thing. Most spectral undead look sorta generic, see, as if the spirit looses its distinguishing features upon death. Everything kinda smooths out, becoming just a standard version of whatever species they may be. But, three of these spectral undead in this group, which I have sense learned to refer to as the Hunters, looked unique. Two were wearing cloaks and cloth masks, while another one, which I assume is in charge given her striking appearance, had a grey cloth mask, spirit-looking grey armor, and Sorcery rays of some description, along with some darts. I don’t know what the rays do—I exploded her before she could cast one on me, since I didn’t want to find out firsthand. I died anyway though—Sparrow had gotten charmed, and snared and knocked me out when I ran past. The things must have killed me though, since the next thing I know I was being rebirthed by a dove. Sena’s dove specifically, the name of whom escapes me for the moment. H something, I think. I’m not quite sure what to make of that bird, actually. It’s obviously magical, and one of my party members mentioned something about White Courts and stuff, but it’s weird and awesome and magic and I want to ask her (the dove) questions but I’m not sure she’ll understand let along be able to answer which would make me look kinda like an idiot for talking to a bird so I think I’ll ask Sena about the bird next time I see her. Anyway, while I was dead the rest of the party was able to make it to the village. Turns out the fire wasn’t magical at all. There was a bunch of dramatic/scary looking people there with scythes and flaming hands and shit like that who had set the town on fire and were tormenting the villagers. From what I head they slaughtered the party that went to investigate, but luckily a few people got away and were able to report back quickly. The cult people were nasty, and probably ought to be dealt with soon. It’s hardly good press to have people like them wandering around the countryside for too long, and Mandel hardly needs a problem like that when Falnin officials are in town. Anyway, everybody was getting back right about when I did, so a bunch of us set of together to investigate some grave disturbances. Or rather, some graves had been disturbed, which is not to say that we did not think the disturbances to be grave given Mandel’s undead problem, but as it turns out the problem with disturbed graves was less grave than we had originally feared. Although, we did encounter quite a problem along the way. We were making our way through some of the nasty weather that has been gathering in the area around Mandel. Turns out that the weather has something against humans, since it seemed to really, really, hate us. But, that’s not really relevant to what comes next. So, we’re making our way through these storms, and a group of ogres and trolls, the more brutal and dangerous ones, pass us by. For that I am grateful, as they did not look like a group we wanted to mess with—morganti, sorcery, the whole nine yards. So yeah. Thankfully they just ignored us. Not sure what they were doing, although I suspect that they were the ones hunting the ogres we ran into earlier. When we got to the cemetery a bunch of bodies had been unearthed and were missing pieces, but they were always the same pieces. A bunch of left feet, some ring fingers and thumbs, bits of hair from the same place on each head, and so on. The missing body parts had been sawed of with a knife, but Feydrin told us that whoever had done it clearly didn’t really know what they were doing. There were some tracks leading away from the cemetery, so we followed them and eventually stumbled upon two mages standing in front of a rock face talking with one another. They seemed pretty friendly, and asked whether anyone could get through the stone, since they thought that there were some good components for item enchanting back there. I got really exited, then, since this sounded like something that I could use my magic for! I volunteered to try, and started a ritual to “crumble this stone” with the intent being to soften the rocks in the area the mages had been pointing. I sorta tuned out what was going on behind me, since I had to focus on the ritual. I vaguely heard something about enchanting, digging up graves and stuff like that being illegal. An aura of some sort went off and there was a kerfuffle, but by and large I just ignored the party’s shenanigans. In the end the ritual worked too, just as I had intended! It was fantastic! The only other sorcery I ever cast was just the standard “with the Sorcery of flame you explode” spell, which is useful but stupendously generic. Also, the find was really exciting! Behind the rocks I had targeted were bunches of purple crystals that seemed to glow faintly, and when I looked at them with my super-awesome magic sight they gave of a faint magical light of sorts. At this point I had turned to check on the party, but most of them had left already. The mages were gone too, and I think they were arrested for stealing body parts. Not really sure, truth be told, but I’m sure someone else knows the details. Anyway, that’s probably a good thing, since the next spell I cast sorta fumbled. But it really wasn’t my fault, I swear! As it turns out those crystals (their name begins with an S, but I honestly don’t remember the whole thing, so I just call them magic purple glow stones) amplify sorcery, and so are often used in the enchanting process. At the time I didn’t know that, and so I cast another ritual on them with the intent of extracting them from the surrounding rock. The crystals amplified the spell, and I was unprepared for the sudden surge in power and lost control. It exploded in my face, but luckily it didn’t kill me. The crystals sorta exploded too, but that turned out all right. You see, I was knocked unconscious by the blast, and when I woke up there were bits of stone scattered everywhere. Luckily, I was prepared for this sort of thing! Like I’ve said before my memory ain’t the best, so I tend to lose things like notes and papers with relative frequency, so I got someone to teach me how to sweep wide areas effectively to better keep track of my stuff. In this case those skills helped me locate a bunch of the crystal fragments, including a few bigger chunks! I’ve been told that what I gathered is roughly equivalent to twelve ‘doses’, which should leave some room for experimentation. I was talking with Aria about enchanting stuff, so these stones should be really fun to fiddle with! When we got back to town we met with Lord Mandol again. But, just as he was about to explain that there were some important Falnin council people in the city (Kida Shieldbreaker, or something like that? As you can probably tell I’m not the best with names. I know her last name involves a shield, anyway), said important person showed up and started barking orders. I don’t think I like her very much, but then again I tend not to like most authority figures. It’s sorta a force of habit at this point. But, she seemed particularly harsh. I mean, Lord Mandol is too, but in a “we all know what is expected of you, so go do it and don’t screw it up” sort of way. He is in charge of a prison city, after all, so that’s to be expected. Then again, the Falnin lady is probably in charge of important stuff too (something to do with war, I think?), so that’s not really a fair comparison. Actually, maybe it’s just the fact that I don’t like someone from Falnin coming into the city and taking charge of things. Which is weird, given that I’m not from Mandel. And yet, I feel somewhat indignant at having another power come into the city. Odd. Falnin lady told us that we need to do stuff like guard prisons and clear out the tunnels more, so some people set ought for the tunnels again, this time through a group called the Explorer’s Lantern that, well, explores stuff. There were undead, of course, and then a dwarf shrine thing with haunts that had something to do with fire and stuff. Aria seemed very exited about it, but I didn’t quite catch why. Then there were more undead, but really nasty stuff. Specters, mummies that didn’t seem to take any abilities from clerics—judging from the fact that those who returned said that turn undead and holy damage seemed to do nothing to them—and even some animated armor things, which could have been a death knight or something else. There were also skeletons. The undead were defacing things in this shrine area, scratching symbols of the walls and stuff like that. I don’t know what happened exactly since I wasn’t there, but from the sound of it the party got decimated. They all returned though, so that’s definitely a plus. After the undead incident we decided to do something a little more low-key, and so we set out to investigate various forms of cookware that had been banging around for the last month or so. On the way there we ran into some people that tried to murder us, and then some mercenaries, but we made it past all right. Nothing of particular note there. Eventually we made our way out to the cookware, which was making quite a racket. Banging and rattling and making various other obnoxious noises. They were haunts of some sort, and actually seemed to be leading us somewhere. Eventually, things got weird. Like, really, really, weird. And not in the interesting sort of weird either, but in the “oh gods what the hell is that monstrosity” sort of weird. See, we followed the cookware, and it led us to some…thing. The thing looked like a small void in space, an area that sucked in light and, as it turns out, magic as well. Furthermore it could suck away abilities from people with just a touch, and so far the loss from those touches seems to have been permanent. We tried interacting with it in various ways, but nothing seemed to peak its interest or illicit much of a reaction other than when Aria started talking about consuming things. Then it went after her with a vengeance. Eventually those spectral undead, the Hunters, showed up again, and most fled. The damn void-thing charmed me though, and the next thing I know I was most dead and being resurrected back in town. So, not the best of afternoons. Gave me lots to think about, though. After that incident the day was almost done, but we still had work to do. Apparently some sort of spirit had entered the city, and it was following Rue. Honestly I’m not clear on the details of all, I was just sort of watching the whole thing. There was a ritual, and Sparrow did something or other that made his hand go all black, someone had a chessboard out, and rhere were some funny plants involved. Apparently the spirit was behind Rue or something, although since I couldn’t see anything I don’t know what exactly that meant. So yeah. Go read somebody else’s work if you want all the details. I guess that actually applies to this whole thing, really. I’m not omniscient, so details are going to be missing, ignored, or maybe just flat out wrong. Besides, it’s not like it will hurt you to go read some more. Anyway, I’m done here. I got some stuff to do. Valdimar Roriksson
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Scott
Man at Arms
Sir Scott of the Rainbow Light
Yeeeesssss?
Posts: 116
Leagues Played: Character League, Club League, Adult League, Falnorian
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Post by Scott on May 24, 2016 9:00:49 GMT -8
Ruminations On the Source and Nature of Magic By Valdimar Roriksson Twenty-Third of Fifthmoon, 122.3.2
Most of these papers I have read have some sort of introduction, explaining what they are going to write about. Honestly, I have so far been unable to adequately summarize my research without making a senseless mess of it, so I will just skip that part for your sake and mine and jump right into the middle of things. The title pretty much explains the general subject matter anyway, so no sense repeating myself. All I will say is that the contents of this paper are, by and large, speculation. I make no claims to be an authority on the subject, and am simply using this paper as an avenue to compile what research I have done and to speculate on some of the implications. Do with that what you will. Now, I have a few things to get out of the way before I can really dive into the bulk of my research, so bear with me. First, I wish to establish the deaths of the four beings known as the Olden Gods and the Fall as being one and the same, or, at the very least, as said fighting and deaths being the trigger for the Fall. For those of you who are not already aware, the Olden Gods are the deities that existed before the Fall and the entering of the Celestials we now know. According to the poem The Fall of the Olden Gods by eminent historian Alaina Woodsbourne, each deity was responsible for making one of the four dominant races that we see in the world today—the Growing God shaped humans, the Dreamer made hobbits, the Cunning God was responsible for dwarves, and the Lonely Goddess made elves. To quote: Following a brief conflict upon the first contact of the mortal races, both the Olden Gods and their creations lived in relative harmony for many years, as the lines above indicate. However, the Olden Gods, like us mortals, were prone to emotions such as jealously, and this culminated in a great conflict. The Cunning God “His hammer seized” (line 33), and he used it to slay the Dreamer, who is also referred to as the “Vision-keeping hawk” (lines 7, 36, and 47). The Lonely Goddess, weeping, drew a knife and cut the Cunning God’s throat before turning the blade upon herself, leaving only the Growing God alive. The Growing God buried his fellow Makers in a place “Away from mortal sight and sound/Where stars would always watch” (lines 59 and 60) before digging a fourth grave and burying himself alive. So, why does this story lead me to believe that the conflict discussed above and the event known as The Fall are one and the same? First, there is the obvious parallel of the poem’s title and the name of the event. Second, there is a symbol that appears in pre-Fall artifacts and art and in depictions of those events that takes the form of a circle divided into four equal sections. In art that depicts the Age of Decline and the Fall—such as in a series of carvings that were discovered in the area around Oldmin—the same symbol appears, but it is no longer a single whole—it has been split into separate sections. Such a split mirrors the discord generated by the Olden Gods’ conflict and the falling apart of mortal relations during this time period. Third, the descriptions of the Fall provided by Woodsbourne in her work A Brief History of Falnorian History and Prehistory (hereafter referred to simply as A Brief History) match exactly with the description of the results of the Olden Gods’ conflict. For example, Woodsbourne writes in A Brief History that the Sixth Age of the First Era “is marked by a series of natural disasters. The earliest of stonework records from 6.1 depict fire raining down from the sky, rents in the earth, monstrous storms, and many other such events” (A Brief History 4). In The Fall of the Olden Gods the results of the Olden Gods’ fight is described in the eighth stanza, lines 28-32: As one can see, there are obvious parallels between the events that allows me to claim, with relative confidence, that these events are closely connected with one another. Keep this in mind, as it will be important later on in this paper. Now, the second thing to establish is the presence of a certain power or ability that seems to have been present in all the mortal races prior to the Fall. Woodsbourne mentions this power in A Brief History, writing “it is speculated that this hasty advancement [in the Age of Mortals] is due to an inborn power of creation that resided in all mortals at that time; if so, it is no longer present within us today” (1). My own research supports this conclusion, with the additional possibility that this power was not removed entirely following the Fall but simply “reduced or suppressed” (Filibuster, On the Nature of Reality 1387) in some way—see below for more details on that. Furthermore, I suspect that this power is related to the Olden Gods in some capacity. Primarily this idea stems from the timing of the disappearance of the inborn power, since if indeed the Fall was the death of the Olden Gods, and given that the power seemingly disappears during or immediately after the Fall, there seems to be at least a possible link. Also, the Olden Gods are described as “pouring” (Woodsbourn, Fall of the Olden Gods line 9) themselves into their creations, which leads me to believe that said creations—at the very least the mortal races, and possibly every living thing—has or had some fragment of their creative energy inside them, which matches with the theory of this inborn power being a creative force. So, to build on this theoretical foundation, I am proposing that this inborn power, whatever it may turn out to be, is not gone entirely—simply dormant or weakened. Allow me to explain. Near the end of The Fall of the Olden Gods, the Growing God buries his dead kin and then digs a grave for himself, burying himself alive. However, the lines that follow are quite interesting: In particular, I wish to emphasize the word “but.” I cannot speak for everyone reading, but to me that word indicates something other than a true death—reincarnation of a sort. Instead of remaining dead the Olden Gods simply kept living in a different, less aware form. Now, it goes without saying that, although trees are alive they are not (usually) alive in the same way that an actively sentient being is. They are less aware in a way, dormant. So, given all this, what I am proposing is thus: if this pre-Fall power was somehow connected with the lives of the Olden Gods, and the Olden Gods live on in diminished form, then the power likely is still present in mortals, but is similarly diminished or dormant. The exact nature of the change in this power might have taken a few forms, if I may be allowed to speculate some more. To continue with the idea of trees growing, it is possible that the power seemingly disappeared in fits and starts as the various Olden Gods were slain, and then slowly grew once the trees sprouted, although it would never have returned to its previous levels. Also, if such a thing happened it stands to reason that any individuals who knew how to access this power before the Fall—which may very well have been all of them, if indeed all mortals had this power within them—would no longer be able to access said power. As a modern mage, the process of harnessing mana for a spell is something that mages must be taught to do automatically, and if the means by which I did so were to suddenly change it would take me quite some time to be able to cast spells again, if I ever figured out how to do so. This would also, of course, require an individual to know that this power had returned in some capacity as well, since if indeed it became dormant or temporarily disappeared entirely then there would be no reason for an individual at the time to suspect that the ability to access said power had returned. For those who would like to know more, I would direct you to look into someone named Thysindel, a mage whom survived the Fall and is responsible for knowledge of Sorcery and Standard Magic surviving the catastrophic events at all. He is not known to have been a particularly powerful mage by modern standards, although if this inborn power had indeed just disappeared, and if it was used as the foundational magic of the First Era, than it is possible that the abilities that remained to him were simply a fraction of his original skill. But, all that is mere speculation, and an unnecessary addition to this paper as well. Like I said before, I am not much of a formal academic, and this is not intended to be a prim and proper scholarly article. Anyway, moving on. Having established—at least for the purposes of this paper—the role of the Olden Gods in this as-of-yet unspecified inborn power, I wish to move on to discussing the role of this power in modern magic, and some general ruminations on magic in general. First, Arcane Magic. Arcane Magic is a type of spellcasting that is completely silent and extremely difficult to master. Arcane mages forgo the usual verbal component of Sorcery, relying upon just their intent and will to manipulate mana and cast spells. It has been theorized by some scholars, such as the biographer and historian Anaria Inkspan of Oldmin, that Arcane magic is related to this power, as both were “completely silent in nature, lacking written transcripts of any sort” (Inkspan 144). If this is indeed the case, then it seems as though this power is also related to Sorcery. You see, Sorcery and Arcane magic, to the extent of my understanding, essentially differ only in the fact that Arcane casters rely upon just their intent as opposed to all four components of regular spellcasting most mages are familiar with. As for the exact nature of this interplay between modern magic and this power, keep reading, I will get to that later. In addition to the similarities between Arcane magic and Sorcery, there is another possible way to relate Sorcery to the pre-Fall inborn power (hereafter referred to as simply the Power for simplicities sake). Sorcery follows the same pattern of decline in use and commonality that the Power does, followed by a steady recovery following the Fall. Now, normally I would not be so quick to discount the possibility that magical knowledge simply waned with the chaos and various disasters during the Fall. But, in a world where individuals can live up to a thousand years, and given that there are mages who are known to have survived the Fall, it seems unlikely that natural loss would be wholly responsible for the massive magical decline occurring at the time. Indeed, knowledge of Sorcery survived with the Illin elves, as demonstrated by the story of Syenír Telimnass. I would recommend that you read The Establishment and Degeneration of Syenon, also by Alaina Woodsbourne, for more details about Telimnass’ story. In modern times we generally think of Standard Magic—by which I mean the set of spells that is taught to each mage independent of their personally created Sorceries—as being distinct from Sorcery. However, the two are rather closely related. Both Sorcery and Standard Magic rely upon the same underlying rules, and can be directly related to each other in that way. They are comprised of four basic components—intent, power, delivery, and incant. Generally speaking, in standard spells these components are like truncated versions of full Sorceries, and often go unnoticed by casters. This is because part of the process of becoming a mage involves practicing these spells over and over again until the casting process becomes automatic, and since the spells are taught “pre-made” so to speak the mage is not directly involved in assembling the spell, and therefore we tend to pay little mind to the various facets of, say, a fireball. Metaphysician Rumin Vellar describes the difference between Standard Magic and Sorcery thusly in his 119.3.2 paper, The Music of Magic: Patterns and Symbols of Spellcasting: Now, as I just mentioned each spell has four components. However, these components do not all have an equal role to play in the spellcasting process. Intent, it would seem, is the most important part of the spellcasting process. I have concluded this primarily due to the magical capabilities of animals. That is to say, there are certain animals, with all the intelligence (or lack thereof) that implies, that have the ability to cast magic innately. They do this without any sort of incant, and purely on instinct—they are simply projecting their intent. They will it to happen, and so it does. This actually provides an idea for what exactly intent is, as it certainly appears to be closely related to the mental capacity of living beings. More specifically, it seems to be our capability to exert mental energy on the mana of the world around us in order to shape it as we intend too. This process is by and large invisible, since it is automatic and inborn. Which brings me to my next point: intent is quite possibly the same thing as the Power. I have already postulated that the inborn power is related to magic, and by process of elimination the only necessary component of magic that is unaccounted for via other means is intent. The existence of Arcane Magic and animals that can cast without speech establishes that a linguistic component is not actually necessary for spellcasting, it simply makes it easier. An incant is a sort of focus, capturing the intent of the spell in a form that we, as verbal beings, can easily understand. Spells like fireball allows me to discard delivery as a possible candidate for the Power as well, since the delivery—a charged spellstone—is obvious and well understood. Power (usually in terms of mana) is also eliminated, as the sources of the mana fro spells are well known. Only intent does not have an obvious and easily explainable role to play in spellcasting, and so, for now, it is the candidate for the identity of the Power. Given that the Power seems to be necessary for spellcasting—as does intent—and given that there are no other spell components I am aware of at this point, the connection seems logical. So, what exactly is the Power/intent? The following section is based on the underlying assumption that the Power is the same thing as intent. One can perhaps garner some idea of what the Power is by examining what is necessary for a spell to work and what each component provides to the overall casting process. First, power. It is readily apparent that spells require energy, what we call mana, in order to function properly. By and large, spell energy comes from three sources—spellstones, the caster, and the immediate environment. Most spells are a combination of these three sources, but tend to have a single primary source. Spells like Fireball, Light Ray, and Terror Ball draw their power from spellstones, which are made from a mineral called Crystallite that is excellent at absorbing and storing mana. The mage in question uses a part of their energy to activate the spellstone, drawing out the stored energy for use in the spell. The amount of the mage’s mana used to activate the stone various depending upon the spell—a Fireball requires next to nothing, whereas a Sorcery such as the Pyromancer’s “You Explode” spell requires quite a bit more. Spells such as Inferno Aura or Bestial Transformation draw primarily upon the caster’s own mana, shaping it to the desired end before releasing the primed spell. Finally, spells such as Healing Touch and Identify draw primarily upon the mana that is carried from mana wells by the leylines that cross the entire country and beyond. Certain kinds of magic, such as Witchcraft, draws upon energy and beings from other realms. Regardless of the exact source, mana is what allows the spell to actually have an effect, as it requires energy to cause something to change and that energy has to come from somewhere. Second, delivery. As with power, delivery is easily accounted for. I will not spend much time on this topic, as I have already covered the primary aspects of delivery previously in this paper. Mages generally divide delivery into several broad categories—touch, ball, ray, aura, cascade, blast, and so on. Furthermore, spells are often delivered via an item—by which I mean any sort of physical object or symbol that is used to deliver the spell’s effect—or a gesture, such as a touch spell. Most spells have aspects of both, such as invoking with a magelore item and then delivering the spell via a touch. Third, the linguistic component. It is worth noting that I say “linguistic component” simply because language is the most common form this part of the spell takes. However, that may not be the case—mute mages use gestures and symbols to fill the role of a verbal incant, for example. This component is not technically necessary, but it makes casting far, far easier, providing a focus for guiding the spell to the desired end. When one first learns how to cast spells the linguistic component is a useful tool to achieve mastery, but once one does so it can, at least in theory, be done away with. But, all that aside, as with power and delivery the linguistic component is easily accounted for in the form of a verbal incant or physical symbol. So, what is missing from all this? There are obvious sources of power, obvious means of delivery, and a useful but technically unnecessary linguistic component. This would seem to provide everything a spell would need—the words shape the gathered energy into a particular form, which is then manifested in one of several different ways in order to have an impact on the world. However, there are two things that help indicate what the Power is. First, the three spell components described above make no indication of how a mage actually gathers the necessary mana. Incant and delivery only effect mana once the mage has harnessed the necessary power, and the power itself does not organize itself. So, there must be another force acting upon said energy in order for spells of any sort to be viable. As a Sorcerer I have the ability to see mana, and have performed a handful of experiments in which I simply observe the spellcasting process. As such I can say with confidence that the very first step of spellcasting is intent/the Power, and during this stage the casting mage enters into a sort of state in which they are aware of the energy around them and their own internal stores of power, and can draw it in much like breathing, but mentally. So, the Power is, at least in part, what allows a mage to harness energy for spellcasting. Furthermore, my experiments have revealed that this ability is innate, and that mage training simply teaches mages how to actually do something with that ability. That is itself another clue, as magic is something that can be used by mortal mages and animals alike. What is the one thing that we basically all have, regardless of individual biology (or even lack thereof in the case of creatures like spectral undead, which can still use magic despite having no physical form)? The answer is, of course, the mind—the ability to think, have goals, desires, and needs. Even plants do this to a certain extent, as they will react to certain external stimuli. For example, flowers will turn to follow the sun, demonstrating a certain kind of extremely limited awareness. This, combined with the association of the Power with creative abilities (Warren et al., Powers of the Mind in the First Era, 24), has led me to believe that the Power stems from the mind, and is at least in part the exertion of mental energy on the surrounding world in order to manipulate energy. I have also learned, once again via personal experimentation, that this mental energy can be used to manipulate mana without having to have the formal structure of a spell, such as causing small amounts of energy to combust and producing a small flame. For now, that is the extent of my research that is appropriate to be turned into a paper of this sort, although there are a few things I am currently looking into that I may transcribe later. I hope that this has been of some use or general interest.
1. Poem by Alaina Woodsbourne, Syenon; The Fall of the Olden Gods2. Treatise by Alaina Woodsbourne, Syenon; A Brief Summary of Falnorian History and Prehistory, 261.2.2. 3. Ambrose Filibuster, Ardel; On the Nature of Reality, 97.3.2. 4. Book by Galliard Havlin, Skallfyr; On the Enduring Nature of Knowledge: The Story of Thysindel and the Evolution of Magic, 102.3.2. 5. Book by Anaria Inkspan, Oldmin; T he Life and Times of Arctus Arcarius of Eldspell, 120.3.2. 6. Essay by Alaina Woodsbourne, Syenon; The Establishment and Degeneration of Syenon, 255.2.2. 7. Essay by Rumin Vellar, Melodia; The Music of Magic: Patterns and Symbols of Spellcasting, 119.3.2. 8. Book by Allen Warren et al., Falnin; Powers of the Mind in the First Era, 89.3.2
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Scott
Man at Arms
Sir Scott of the Rainbow Light
Yeeeesssss?
Posts: 116
Leagues Played: Character League, Club League, Adult League, Falnorian
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Post by Scott on Oct 4, 2016 9:57:31 GMT -8
Delilah Isenion Travel Log # 1132, 138.3.2 Assembled from notes for Ninthmoon, the Second to the Twenty-Fifth Second of Ninthmoon, Gildmar—Red Wyvern Inn The capital city of Gildmar is wearing on me. It has a certain charm (assuming one enjoys residing in a culture steeped in blunt masculinity and warrior bravado), but nonetheless I have grown tired of its streets and the people who walk them—they are rather dull. Always going somewhere or doing something, they spare little time for a proper civil conversation. And the shouting! Always bellowing one thing or another, it is impossible to sleep properly here. At least in Eldspell they respect the fact that sane people will be attempting to rest before the sun has even risen. It is times like these that I look back and regret my decision to depart from my parent’s home in Ilienor, even though at the time I was given few other options. At least the shops in Gildmar are as good as one would hope in a capital city, even if there are many devoted to armor and weapons and the like. I was even able to find a respectable tailor who was more than happy to fulfill my requests. Also, in a town such as this my own trade is in high demand, and my clients have been most appreciative (and, more importantly, most generous with their coin) Fifth of Ninthmoon, Gildmar—Red Wyvern Inn I have heard that there will be a group of adventurers gathering in the small town of Hutmoor, just to the North of Gildmar proper. I must admit, the idea is tempting—I have never been in the same town as an adventuring party before, but from what I hear the kinds of people one would encounter are liable to be far more interesting than the local populace. I will look into this further. Seventh of Ninthmoon, Gildmar—Red Wyvern Inn One of my clients told me that there is a large caravan leaving for Hutmoor two days hence. Miners mostly, but the caravan leader has a good reputation and has spared no expense on protection—travel through these parts can be dangerous. Although I am confident in my own abilities with regard to myself I do not doubt that hired hands will provide peace of mind for the rest of the caravan, if nothing else. Ninth of Ninthmoon, Gildmar The caravan leader, a human named Bjorn Svaldsson—which is truly one of the most Gildmarian names I have ever come across—has agreed to allow me to travel with them for a small fee. As his name implies he is Gildmar born and raised, but he at least appears to demonstrate some degree of restraint. The guards too display a thankfully limited level of bombast, and it is clear that they have made this trip before—they know the risks. We are to leave within the hour. Tenth of Ninthmoon, Road to Hutmoor We suffered a delay today. The right back wheel on one of the carts caught a hole in the road and shattered. The state of the roads is dreadful, and I understand that this close to the Wildlands little lasts for very long. I am glad I brought along my parasol—the heat is atrocious, and I pity the guards in their armor. Eleventh of Ninthmoon, Road to Hutmoor Conversation is limited, and the landscape is insufferably dull. Still, I suppose that this is the safest and quickest was to make it to Hutmoor. I only wish there was an alternative. Twelfth of Ninthmoon, Road Still hot. Sand and scrub everywhere. Terrible flies. The guards are sweating like pigs in their armor but remain wary. Thirteenth of Ninthmoon, Still on this Accursed Road We were accosted this morning, before the sun rose. Bandits, I suspect—I did not take time to ask. Arrows dropped one of the guards on watch, but the other raised the alarm. The fight, as always, was very quick—no more than a minute. The guards have been keeping a closer eye on me since then. I think my technique made them nervous. On the subject of which, I need to replace my parasol and belt when I arrive in Hutmoor. My old ones are a bit...stained. Twentieth of Ninthmoon, Hutmoor—The Hole in the Wall Hostel I have been settling in to Hutmoor just fine, I suppose. The town, although small, is rather quaint. The local populace keeps largely to themselves, which is much preferable to the alternative. I have been getting to know the layout of the town and some of the resident merchants—I must say, there is an excellent shop near the hostel that offers a delightful selection of parasols and other weather-related equipment for sale. As I understand it, such things are in high demand out here in the desert. With luck others will begin filtering into town soon. I eagerly await their arrival. Also, I was able to find a replacement for my belt. It is of a good make, and the buckle of an appropriate weight for heavier use. It will with luck prove more durable than the last one. Twenty-Fifth of Ninthmoon, Hutmoor—The Hole in the Wall Hostel Today I met for the first time many of those who will be my companions for the conceivable future. As I expected, they are certainly more diverse than most. In fact, at least one of them, an entity who we have taken to calling Silver and who wears a silver half-mask, is a haunt of some sort, and another is some sort of spectral entity. There is also a blind man named Wren (although I have yet to figure out why he decided that adventuring with his condition would be a good idea), a rather…theatrical…individual named Vesper Crimson who is overall moderately entertaining, a golem of some sort made of sandstone who calls himself Yes Man, and a number of others who’s names I have not yet learned. Like I said before, they are an interesting bunch, although their effectiveness has yet to be determined. Further observation will be required before coming to any conclusions as to their overall utility. Regardless, this “adventuring” business is a welcome break from the usual humdrum of daily life. The day began with a meeting with the current head of Hutmoor, an elderly man named Lord Everett Haven. As I understand it he has no family or heirs, and due to his age he is likely to pass on soon. I do not envy humans and their inevitably short lives, as they are incapable of partaking in many of the opportunities available to Illin elves such as myself. This has proven advantageous when plying my trade amongst them—there is a certain sense of exoticism that helps attract clients, and they are more likely to hire me for long-term commissions. Lord Haven greeted us in the Gildmar fashion—which is to say, he was wearing full armor and bearing a number of arms despite his advanced age. Following a brief introduction to the town, which I largely ignored due to having already been here for a number of days, he presented to us an array of possible missions that we could undertake. Certain members of out party took it upon themselves to arrange for a vote-based system of decision making, which, somewhat amusedly, appeared to baffle Lord Haven. According to him “the one who shouts the loudest” is usually the one who makes the ultimate decision, an unsurprisingly crude method given the province we are in. Also, on the subject of Lord Haven, his age appears to be affecting him quite severely—he forgot what was said mere moments before, and even fell asleep. I am unsure as to what kind of leader he is, but at the very least I am thankful that his age prevents him from shouting overly much. Voting is certainly much less annoying. It was eventually decided that our “party” would split into two smaller groups. One group went to investigate wandering spirits in a graveyard, and the other went into town to familiarize themselves with the people and layout. Having already been in Hutmoor for a while the second of those options was not of particular interest, but I went with that group anyway. I was more curious as to how my companions would behave than I was about the town. Little happened of note, but there were a number of my now-fellow adventurers who stood out, for good or for ill. In particular, there was a rather intriguing incident involving one Vesper Crimson selling a rose to a Goblin for thirty gold pieces, an impressive sum for a mere flower even if we are in the desert. I will be keeping an eye on him—he seems like a useful ally, and as I stated before he is, generally speaking, moderately amusing. There was also a Hobbit that called himself “Basher,” a rather blunt name for a blunt individual. Said Hobbit was involved in an altercation with some of the citizens of Hutmoor and a guard, but did display some skills that will be of use. His arrogance and stubbornness may not be worth the muscle, however—a full decision is pending further observation and interaction. As I understand it the group that went to the graveyard encountered some resistance from serpent beasts, but moved past them easily enough. Once they arrived at their destination they encountered a trio of haunts, but soon enough discovered that said spirits were only present still because they had been buried improperly, and the issue was rectified. From what other’s said it appears as though a member of our party, Asterion, has some sort of affinity for haunts. Or rather, they have an affinity for him. Several times Silver (the name that has been temporarily given to the haunt who wears a silver mask) has come into contact with Asterion and been “absorbed” so to speak. I am unclear on the details however, but will note that a certain degree of tension has been the result. I look forward to seeing how this develops. Just briefly on the subject of Silver, I am looking forward to having the opportunity to examine her (?) more closely. Her time of death is unknown, but may be quite far in the past, perhapse even to before the Wildlands were the Wildlands. I do not know whether death weighs on her soul as it does on ours, but if killed she simply reforms and, presumably, escalates. This could be dangerous to us if she escalates too far and becomes aggressive towards her own companions, but I believe the trade off is worth it. She should prove to be a valuable ally, if somewhat clueless regarding the current state of the world. Once everyone had gathered once more it was decided that some of us would patrol the border of the Wildlands while others delved into an active mine in order to clear it of “pests,” a term which can apparently encompass everything from animals to gremlins to undead according to Lord Haven. I decided to go to the Wildlands, as I have little interest in going underground—the dark causes only a limited problem for my elven eyes, but I have little fondness for enclosed spaces even though they are on occasion a necessity depending on the needs of my clients. Why, there was one individual who wished to conduct all of our business in their private residence, even though there was nothing illegal about most of the activities in question. If there is one thing I have learned over the course of my travels it is that some people are just strange, but that those same people are often the most willing to pay handsomely for the promise of discretion. The Wildlands proved to be a curious place and the major threat there seems to be the animals, although I use the term only loosely. Although the creatures resembled animals in shape they were far, far more dangerous. There were a number of small marmot-like animals that proved more dangerous than they looked, and which seemed almost endless—our only choice was to flee, although some of our party members were astonishingly slow to do so. Whether this is because they were simply inattentive or because they believed they could deal with the threat is unknown, but eventually we were able to move along. We also encountered a green-hued elephant covered with spiky protrusions, as well as a large panther that was stalking a pack of smoke-bodied gazelles armed with flame rays and a herd of fairly aggressive buffalo creatures. The only one that attacked me directly was swiftly dealt with, and the aforementioned spectral entity dealt with most of the others. The party handled itself acceptably in these encounters, although there is doubtless room for improvement. That said, such improvement comes with experience, and it will be intriguing to see how each individual develops. A brief note about the spectral entity in question: although it appears humanoid, exact species or distinguishing features are difficult to determine due to a slight fading and blurring of its form. However, the most notable feature of this being is that it has, so far, not been harmed by any sort of weapon, although there has been no opportunity to observe the effects of spells on its wellbeing. It has stated that it also would be harmed by magic or silver weapons but requires a helm so as to avoid being knocked unconscious, which leads me to the inevitable conclusion that it is not an undead in the traditional sense. Furthermore, it has demonstrated a certain proficiency with martial arts, using its hands to render a number of opponents unconscious. A gas explosion wounded it however, so it may be susceptible to environmental effects and harm. Further observation will be necessary to determining the full extent of its inherent abilities. The other group returned to the same mine they had ventured into before, and although the details are unknown to me I have gathered that they encountered a rather large amount of gremlins and were entangled in their tunnels for most of the remainder of the day. A short while before we officially dispersed for the day another group departed to deal with some bandits that had been disrupting trade. The intervening details are irrelevant, but in the end the group was substantially larger than ours and proved to numerous to be dealt with appropriately. Yes Man, a humanoid creature made entirely out of sandstone, was captured. Or rather, the bandits discovered that Yes Man is forced to comply with all orders that do not cause it (him?) to harm itself, and as such they simply ordered the golem to come with them. As an aside, I use the term “golem” loosely—Yes Man does not display most of the usual traits of Golems, meaning that he appears to be damaged normally and as far as I am aware is susceptible to spells. In the coming weeks we ought to attempt to retrieve him, as he is a valuable front-line fighter for our group. All told, this first day was fascinating, and certainly a welcome break from my usual travel. I cannot say that I particularly enjoy the experience of getting stabbed, but if this day demonstrated anything it is that there are a number of my fellow adventurers who appeared quite glad to lead from the front, and so hopefully such incidents will be kept to a minimum. I would attempt to acquire some armor, but have yet to grow used to the restriction such protections impose upon my movement. I look forward to the coming months—they should be interesting, if nothing else.
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