DragonRealms

Spring, 394AV

I sit in an armed camp amongst the western end of the Journelai Shel, watching the road between Kwarlog and Hibarnhvidar. Trade between the cities has evolved into armed caravans bearing supplies from the north towards Hibarnhvidar. The best I can tell is that Kwarlog has avoided the worst of the attacks so far. Perhaps the indominable snow-clad might of Asketi's Mount and the Monastery near the road is enough to keep the undead generally driven back.

While the dwarves have many hidden routes to make sure material and men reach Raven's Point and Ain Ghazal, the major roads to the east lie clogged with hordes of undead. Repeated attempts to purge them from the shoulders of the Himineldar have been met with limited success, and even Hibarnhvidar's gates have been briefly overrun at times. They must have found some ancient unguarded seam of rock to traverse, or their arts let them establish gates and threaten the city itself.

Business with the western nomads and the Dabru on Ratha have kept me away from the city for a length of time now. I heard the foul Olvi Tachid led a recent assault that led to great casualties amongst the defenders before the undead were driven out from the halls. It is not certain yet if Inner Hibarnhvidar was breached yet or not, yet I have heard that Grutan donned his plate and entered the fray as well. If only I had the opportunity to see him fight in person!

However, it is good that I have heard that the defenders of Ilithi came to our aid as well. Our aid to their city nearly a year past now is being returned, and I hope closer affairs between the two lands will be possible. Even in peaceful times, both lands must guard against the Dragon Priest threat, as those dwelling within the walls of Raven's Point as well aware.

Another storm is brewing from the mountains, so I must draw this to a close, but I will also add that my meetings with the Nadamian family went well. Several shipments of arms and armor are on their way from the isles, as well as bundles of healing herbs. While it might not be a major help in the grand scheme of things, it will aid those who they can reach. A definitive date for their arrival has not yet been set, but I believe it should arrive by summer.

Signed by my hand,
Kraggur Kveldcharn

(Ehon sits quietly, writing on the parchment, looking around once and a while at those around him in the library, stacks of books next to him as he rifles through them, reading each one...nodding to himself as he gleans the information from them, and then turning to the parchment he continues on with the writing, unhurried and pausing several times...)

I will attempt in this essay to convey my thoughts and feelings towards the gods in as clear and educated manner as I can. But as is often the case when dealing closely with things that pertain to religion emotion usually gets in the way of clear and rational thought. I have often heard that there are two subjects one should never speak about...Religion and Politics. For both the line seems blurry to some. Some may use Religion to further their goals and political dreams, and some may use politics to further their religious goals. I am employing neither tactic. I would rather like to state a fact, I do not believe in the Gods, nor do I have any political agenda. I do not wish to have all records of the gods stricken, nor do I wish to gain any political power through this essay.

In the End I want what anyone else wants. Someone to spend my life with, a cold beer, and a door to my bathroom.

I shall begin with a quote:

The presence of the Thirteen Immortals of Elanthia is undeniable, their power and mythology woven into the fabric of the universe, their influence as vital as air or sunlight -- but not nearly as intangible. In fact, the primary faith of the Realms is so closely a part of its existence that it has no name -- it is simply taken for granted that everyone believes in the legends of the Thirteen.

Ok, I would like for a moment to work with that quote. I will not deny that it some point in our history that perhaps there were individuals who rose above us in power and knowledge and were able to perform feats that well, for lack of a better word, blew away our ancestors. Perhaps at that point their legends began? Who is to say to their primitive minds, when they angered the gods, or thought they had, real world calamities struck. Such as Volcano's erupting, or earthquakes or what have you. As a Warrior Mage, I have studied the Elements quite lengthily and while I do not have control over Fire, I have a strong affinity to earth, and I too can create an earthquake. Perhaps long long ago, had I lived with this knowledge I too would have been Deified with my knowledge and skills. It is hard to say.

I will admit for a moment, that Clerics intrigue me. They seem to Commune with the Gods, or whom they believe to be the gods. Well do we all know first hand what happens to us when we fall unfortunately to the blade or hand of a foe and how our own spirit seems to want to leave our bodies long behind. What if these immortals, these Gods were once living and breathing such as you and I. and When it was their time to depart and walk the Starry Road, they did not. Perhaps they dwell in a place between, being able to affect only minutely our plane of existence. Yet, when we too are in that in between state we can see them fully, and they have some sort of touch upon us. Perhaps in that state they can know many different things, these spirits, and aid us or hinder us as their mood dictates. For example, Favors. Perhaps at some point they were able to discover that there was a way to help bond the soul to the body, to sacrifice some knowledge in order to extend your own life. Again, I cannot begin to understand the whole connection between our knowledge and the bonding of the soul to this plane. Perhaps it is simply the dumber you are the longer you live, I have seen proof of that on a daily basis.

 I am not sure of anything really, this is simply a theory. But as far as I know the only real argument I have ever had thus far for the existence of them is that I need to die to see them. And some have been 'helpful' in this matter.

On to the next quote:

When mortals or semi-mortals offend a particular god, they are sure to incur the ire of the negative aspect. Attempts to please the gods may bring out the positive aspects, but there is no guarantee. Each Immortal is lord over particular spiritual, natural, magical and astrological domains, for example each Lord has his/her own corresponding planet.

In the past few years I have become quite vocal in my disbelief of the gods, whether it was simply in a loud and heated debate, or ending in my own death, I would never think of killing someone just to prove a point, it seems more along the lines of losing to me, and ethically wrong to me some how. I know my secular views are not popular, and I may be the only one who does not follow the 'gods' blindly. But I have seen many who have claimed to follow the immortals and commit such atrocities against their fellow citizens that it appalls me. In a way it amazes me, that without the guidance of any Deity I have been able to come up with some sort of moral code where I will not do harm to another person, through stealing, or killing or even mistreatment whether verbally or physically. I cannot help it, whether it is my natural Kaldar traits or myself personally, I do feel quite superior in this matter.

I would like to address the current events for a moment as well. The many different people I have met through the course of these events, and how good they are. And how I was not judged on my abilities based on my belief system. As a matter of fact it was not brought up. Whether it was understood what I believed in, or whether they thought I simply believed in the same things they did. It does not matter. What matters is that free thinking individuals stood...stand together against something they they know is wrong deep within their hearts.

Again, I would like to reiterate that I do not wish to sway anyone's beliefs with the words that are written here. They are simply my own words and thoughts, I have no hidden agenda, the only real goal of this is to finally put to words what I have been thinking about and feeling, and perhaps stay the hand of a 'helpful' soul who still wishes to show me that the gods exist when I am dead. As I reread these lines, I think to myself that were I to reread these lines many years from now, how much my thoughts may change. Perhaps there will be some revelation for me showing me that the gods do truly exist, or that I will be able to simply add more lines of rhetoric to this already long winded essay. So, I shall leave you with this then...To be Continued....

Ehon, Citizen of Elanthia, Aesry, and a Member of the Order of the Iron Circle.

(Ehon stands up, and then blowing lightly on the parchment to dry the ink, he leaves it on the desk for all to read as he returns the books to their shelves)

394, 84 VoL
3rd of Lirisa the Archer, Golden Panther.

I've meditated on various aspects of this war long enough to put what I've gleaned into writing.

Lyras seeks the destruction of life. While I can't fault her tactics her goals run...counter to my own. Her reasons have been speculated on by more interested and intelligent people than myself. Motivation does not interest me. How she plans on doing this is much more intriguing.

She controls the only army in existence that grows stronger the longer it spends in battle, both in numbers and effectiveness. That she is physically weak compared to other invaders that have come before or even some defenders currently fighting in the war is no secret. This is not the strength of the necromancers. A sword and a strong arm to wield it is a good tool but little use in a flood.

That they're largely resistant to elemental magic is...troubling. Holy magic though, the same magic infused in Blackfire in tandum with elemental, seems to work very effectively. I fear this observation will not be well recieved but I'm past the point of caring what these packs of dogs think. If this war is to be won it will not be won at the tip of a sword, however.


A few behavioral notes:

People seem to react vehemently to the various risen Lyras has brought to bear. While I understand a certain amount of distaste...their reaction implies these objects have free will and intent. Klusarlaik has disproven this beyond any reasonable doubt. I find their reactions and implications these are free thinking creatures...stupid. Why I am still surprised by their inability to reason is a mystery to me.

394, 44 VOL, 2nd month of Ka'len, Sea Drake YOT Golden Panther.

I have divorced.

I would explain that further but as with my marriage it meant very little. An interesting experiment with a quick ending. I've neither gained compassion nor understanding, people yet remain an unfathomable paradox to me.

That this...diversion has slowed my training is an understatement. Thankfully I have since made up for lost time in the discovery of several scrolls of sorcery. I'm hoping they will allow me to better understand the nature of magic 'mixing' so that I can better prepare myself for the rigors of Blackfire.

On a side note...I killed a halfling named Tachid. This act would rarely warrant an mention in my journal but I've been told Tachid is a general for the necromancer Lyras. I did not kill it for this fact. I killed it because it, like the minions with it, got in my way. Perhaps I will seek out this Lyras. She has brought war to all of Kermoria and despite my disdain for the weaker discipline of necromancy, perhaps there is something to be learned from her.

Regardless...with generals such as this Tachid at her side, no doubt she would clamor for someone a bit more capable, if less loyal.

These meetings with lowlanders can stretch even my patience.

They seem to not have the same sense of urgency as those more strongly affected by the threat of Lyras. I can only hope that over their talking that they hear the words of the Council and take them to heart.

The number of people who attend at least gives me heart, since their numbers are not insignificant. And if it leads to even one extra life saved, then my time now is well worth it.

Where to begin, I arrived back down here in Forfedhdar a couple weeks ago, travelling south with a friend of mine named Araine. Good lad, Bard of Ratha. While passing through Shard we met up with a friend of mine named Rainea, and we were invited to attend the Shard Militia party. I will not go into the details here, as I am sure, whom ever reads this is familiar with it or has heard the stories of the evening. Regardless it was one of the most enjoyable times I have had in a while.

After the Party we headed to Hib in search of Kragger, and while Araine had to return to Ratha to attend some matters, I stayed and finally ran into Kraggur in Crossing of all places. I voiced my desire to join the Ravens brigade and offer what services I could provide, and he then set me to work under Rieum. He and I have discussed the patrol routes, where possible breaches to the city may occur and where the initial skirmish may happen. And so, for several days after that meeting I have spent my time here training as best I can for the upcoming and inevitable battle.

I was able to see my wife again, if only briefly during Drex and Seb's wedding, which was an amazingly good time as well. I think...I feel it is important to stop now and then and at least enjoy life, for if we do not stop and smile now and then, what is the point in it all? I was able to speak with my wife for a little while at least, tell her what was going on, what may happen, and that I loved her, and I hope not my final goodbye to her. I digress though, that is neither here nor there now...the storm is on the horizon and we must be set to weather it or all of this will be for nothing.

The meeting...ah yes...Terra came down from Muspar'i and we held a bit of an impromptu Elanthian council meeting. There were people from most of the provinces, or at least close enough for those interests to be represented. While I can appreciate a good story, and a history lesson, We were all familiar with the tale of Lyras, and her destructive capabilities. Perhaps I have been out hunting too long, or perhaps I never had a taste for politics, but from what I saw, there was Talk...of Talking...about Talking. I did let my patience slip once or twice, and while I will not say it aloud, I say it here, I was sorry, I did not mean to hurt any feelings or step on toes. I have never been one to use more words than what are needed. But to hear Terra speak of the Affairs of the north, it infuriated me, to see these Barons, Kings and Queens all scrabbling for this piece of land or that. I may have misplaced my anger towards her, but were the Baron at that meeting I would not have spared him my words either, nor this Outcast King. The time to act is now, no amount of words will defend us, and if these 'Leaders' of their people hem and haw about who is marrying who and what sort of truce and what have you, and we few defenders of Forfedhdar fall...then what is left to them...I am half tempted to tell Kraggur we should allow this undead swarm to ravage the provinces while we hole up in the Warrior Mage Guild. It is a Fortress, having a Garden and a fresh water supply, we could hold out there for years and years. To think about for a moment what those hordes could do to those lands..well, it gives me a moments satisfaction, but I would never let such a thing happen, not while I breath, for the people of those lands are not responsible for the Foolishness and Arrogance of those that command them.

I have Traveled out of Forfedhdar for the time being, and I sit in Shard, in the Warrior Mage tower there, contemplating the Eternal Storm created so long ago by my Guild Members. I think about many things today. The Future and the past..and of what I have heard people talk about, such as what is Evil? Would me learning Blackfire to help stop Lyras be considered an Evil thing? Would making a deal with Iszuana or the others here in shard to defeat Lyras be evil? Do the ends justify the means? If I did nothing and stood my ground, doing what I can, without bending the rules or going against society...and those around me died...Does that justify anything? I know it is a bit of Self Importance, but I am who I am. I think I will spend the rest of the evening here, thinking about many things before returning to Forfedhdar.

Penned this the 13th day of the month of Nissa the Maiden in the year 393.

Ehon

26th Day, Dolefaren the Brigantine, 393 AV, Year of the Bronze Wyvern

Kraggur sits in a booth now gone quiet since his associates have left.
He pulls out a battered raven feather quill and a small scroll.

Well, it is now done. The Citizen's Council of Forfedhdar has taken their first true action. Vansiil, Rieum and myself have called for volunteers to patrol the roads north and west of Hibarnhvidar to watch for any undead incursions by Lyras' hordes. We have established routes, times, and locations. Hopefully now volunteers will come.

I find this work exhausting yet rewarding. If one life of an inhabitant of Forfedhdar can be saved this is all time well spent. Let the other lands run around or march their orderly marches, we will prove that the dwarves are a force to be reckoned with.

We have a relay system that can spread word quickly from as far north as the old Monastery to Hibarnhvidar and west along the Great Salt Road, and even to Horse Clan if someone's mind is open and listening.

It is only the beginning, but it is a start.

~Kraggur

393/342 VoL, 9th month of Dolefaren the Brigantine, Bronze Wyvern.

I was deported from Therengia six days ago. It took me almost this long to return. They tell me the reason was my anti-baron sentiments shared in Langenfirth. That they would mistake logic for caring is testament to their blind and rabid obedience to the will of their lord.

When I returned I did murder the finest example of a citizen of Therengia I could find. This was not well received but they made their own pallet. Perhaps they will think of their loved ones first before cornering me again though I doubt it. They do not see cause and effect clearly.

I could personally give a rat fart in a high wind what these zealots think of me or my logic. Nor do I care if the Outcasts bring wine or war.  It was an interesting debate that has turned all the more interesting for it's bloody encore.

I have stopped finding it interesting or amusing that people will embrace lies over uncomfortable truths. A dog can be a pet, a pack of dogs is rarely anything but an annoyance. That they can embrace their baron with such phrases as, "My life for his will" and feign noble intent but still be as the basest alley thug when push comes to shove...reinforces my opinion of sentient beings.

Honor is a luxury cast off for the realization of desires or necessities not otherwise attainable. The base state of sentients is not how noble they are most of the time. This is the rouge they wear in order to convince eachother that they're not all on the brink of mayhem. No, the true state of a sentient is only visible at their most desperate moments when they are revealed for the scrabbling, moral free beasts they truly are.

All this I accept without derision. It is a fact, there is no hating that which is inevitable. The problem of self awareness is imagination. They heap on pleasing falsehoods in order to spare themselves the truth and strut as a colorful bird might assuring their fellow people that they are indeed the epitome of societal evolution.

I remain sickened of my fellow people that they would not see truth as the only morality. That they make it easy for me to justify ending them is their only redeeming quality.

:he sits back in his chair, looking over at the fire Raging in the fireplace of his cottage, and then down to the table, where the parchment sits..lifting the quill he begins to write::

Mother,

I don't know if you will read this, if you are even in Zoluren, or if you are even alive anymore. I have so much to tell you, 20 years worth of tellings, but it is hard to put all in a letter. I will try and sum it up as best I Can. Father is dead, his mind broke and he found comfort in drink, but not for long, and then went mad. I am sure that was not the easiest way to put it, but it is such, and I don't know of any other way to put it.

Myself, I am a Warrior Mage, and I feel I am beginning to make a name for myself. I am slowly progressing through the circles...I have paused in my achievements to become more rounded, and while I do not judge myself against the circles I have attained, I do look forward to the spells I will learn. But it is not an end all be all to my life.

::he pauses a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing writing::

On the Affairs of my soul and belief, I do not hold to the 13, and I am beginning to question the Pantheon as well. Well, I should say this is a recent development, I should clarify that up until about I was twenty-one or so I chased after Meraud blindly and without question. Since father told me nothing of my past, I had to seek answers to questions on my own, and as I studied, I began to realize that perhaps my faith in beings that I have not seen with my own eyes, and had to take on blind faith from others that exist...I just could not in good conscience continue on that path, and so I turned to the Albarian Gods and yet, they too are simply tales told, with no proof of their existence and so my faith in them is also low. I have faith now in those around me, especially one, my Wife.

You would like her I think, she is a strong Elven woman. Quite strong willed and never backs down from a good fight. Which can lead to interesting evenings at home. I have taken to calling a young Halfling lass daughter, she is a good one as well. Mischievous as the day is long, but good hearted, there is nothing I would not do for her as well.

I have a lot of questions for you, I am old enough to understand that sometimes people cannot live together, and given the chance would rather stab each other while they slept. But importantly, how could you simply walk away from me. I am not angry, more curious than anything else. Perhaps I will not get an answer to this question, but it is OK. It is asked.

If this letter does not find you Mother, and perhaps someone else reads this, I ask either if you knew Her or my Father, to please send me word if she is in good health or if she too has left this world,or to tell me of him, who he was before I was born... or to send this to her so she may read it.

With Respect,

Ehon

:He read the letter over slowly as he let the ink dry, and then leaning down and scratching his cat, he sets the rolled up parchment on the ground and the cat delicately picks it up, and then runs off, heading in the Direction of River Crossing, where it then places the letter in the Foyer of the Clerics guild, where someone will find it.::

:he sits down on the ground outside of the Entrance to the South Tower in Shard, quietly contemplating the parchment he holds in his hand, and then taking a deep breath he begins to write...:

Father,

it has been a long time since I have stopped to think of you. My days have been filled with studying and fighting, and my Wife takes most of my attention as well from many things. You would like her, she is quite strong, I would have to say that if she were not around, I would be holed up in some tower somewhere reading a book as the dust covers not only the other tomes, but me as well.I have so many questions for you, those I asked and you never answered, and those I never asked but wanted to. It seemed I stopped asking, the day Mother left, and it seemed you stopped caring as well. I wish I could change the past. Had I been old enough, to perhaps step in, perhaps things would have been different. But I ask you now, knowing you cannot answer...Were We Gorbesh...were we Kaldar? Why did we come here, were we refugees? Were you part of the Main army? Who are we, do we have family in Albaria? Do I have family here I have not met?

::he sits there a moment staring at the parchment for a moment, thinking well if you were ever going to say how your feel, it may as well be now...::

I hate you Father. I hate the fact that you hid in a bottle from the day Mom left until the day you fell. I hate the fact that you did not tell me of our family or our past, that you have withheld this knowledge from me. I curse you for it, when I am around other Kaldar or Gorbesh, I feel out of place, as if I do not belong. Why could you not tell me anything, why do I have sneak about searching libraries for what ever information I can glean? I love you to though. You taught me how to use a sword when I could barely hold it, and you encouraged me to ask questions, even if you would not answer the ones I posed to you. You even taught me about devotion, I know it tore you apart when Mom left, but I am still here...and I still feel the emptiness in my heart as well from her leaving.

Goodbye Father...May you find peace where ever you are..and know one day...not soon, I will join you, and then perhaps you can answer the questions I have for you.

Your Faithful son,
Ehon

:he takes a long deep breath, then exhales it slowly, before getting his talisman, and summoning his familiar. Setting the parchment down on the ground, he commands the cat to pick it up, and he sends the cat off to find a random person..while it travels he dismisses it...both cat and parchment return to the void, and perhaps his father will see this letter...::

ooc: I have been contemplating how and what I can do with my character to make these mid levels a bit more bearable, and since he is closing slowly in on his 30's age wise, I thought perhaps now would be a good time to do a bit of soul searching and add a bit of color to him. While in reality no one would have seen this letter except for him, I thought I would share it, and if you liked it, thank you. If you spend time on the islands, and perhaps join in or incorporate yourselves in some way, (his mother is not dead, just had a bit of a fight with his father, and ducked out, so she is around, also, if there are some Gorbesh or Kaldar out there who would be willing to perhaps share a bit of his family history, I would welcome that as well) you are by all means welcome,I would also take some advice and constructive criticism as well, since I am always looking to improve on what I have and what I am doing.

I had a dream tonight.

The city was dark, or maybe the skies above it made it so.  Whatever the truth the locals seem to cherish it, with even the brightest garbing themselves in shadows the way you or I would in... hmm... I can’t seem to remember.

I was not myself, or at least I couldn't remember who myself was, and slowly I would recall: my eyes, my skin, my hair, and even my Name.  It sounds strange somehow but I know it to be right.  If the gods themselves ask for it, it must be valuable.  Should keep it.

I was a swordsman?  Armed and armoured, deployed in a city of warriors.  Some of them even human, which seemed distasteful, though I am not sure why now.  My blade dance was unremarkable, perhaps a lighter blade is in order.  The rats laughed at me, but at least they cared.  Most others went about their business.

A peculiar thief called me mute.  He vanished from sight, dissolving into the shadows, and quietly laughed at the helpless shopkeeper.  Perhaps they are warrior clowns all, the ones at the asylum more so than the others.  They laugh and sing at the bleeding and the dying, flirting with death, and to keep the joke going no-one dies there, despite the jugglers putting on a show to lead them into the afterlife with a smile.  Perhaps it was a madness, not a dream, for I too was in the asylum with them, walking in and out freely through the double doors, to be joyful, startled, and even healed.

She had a look somewhere between kindness and hunger as she took my wounds, gathering them into herself like a loving mother.  I paid her tribute like I have seen from the others, and the show went on.  I even found a class in the asylum.  I sat in to listen, and the teacher didn’t seem to mind.  There was much to learn in this town, and I set out to see things their way, to move like them.  The rats still laughed, but I could kill them for it.  It felt comforting somehow.

If I don’t speak to them perhaps they won’t be real.

I always forget how peaceful Ratha tends to be. Hibarnhvidar has its charms, but there is nothing quite as peaceful to my soul as sitting watching the stars over the sea. It was also nice to see several friends whom I have not seen for several months since the winds called me to travel west to the mainland.

I have seen many wonders lately. I have stood the night watch above the Gear Gate at Raven's Point, watching foreigners huddle in its shadow before the dawn. I have stood with others clearing the road from Langenfirth to Theren Keep from the undead. The warm yet crisp beezes on the Trabe Plateau have ruffled my hair. I have seen tens of people answer the Handmaiden of Ilithi's call, raising the goodly spirits to bolster the forces of life at at old Gorbesh Fortress south of Shard. And I have seen the sun set over the sea of Reshalia.

Soon I must return to the mainland and Forfedhdar with dark and pressing questions upon my mind. But for the next week I will rest and relax, enjoying the last hints of fall, before winter returns as I head west into the Himineldar Shel where winter already begins to draw tight.

~Kraggur

(A crosspost from my journal)
I've come to the desert to find peace with myself and calm the storm that surges within me. Is it wise to try and supress any of your emotions? My gut tells me no, and at times..it doesn't even seem an option.

I spent the day under Selinthesa going over some key points in Bardic history when a novice ran in with a slight panic, complaining that the slavers were once again getting too close to the city walls. The guild leader closed her tome gently and nodded in my direction, which I took to mean to take care of the problem. Muspar'i is not a city heavily invested in arms, it has always been the might of the Bards and the Warrior Mage's who have protected her city walls. So I slipped off my uaro's'sugi and fastened my balaclava and walked toward the gate. Gripping the polished sana'ati of my quarterstaff in one hand and the pivuh-hide grip of my witch's blade in the other, I felt the Hag take over and I knew it would be that much worse.

Nets flew all around me, and nimbly I was able to dodge each and every one.  I lowered my eyes for the briefest moment and called out to the elements. A twitching pull of the nerves curled my lips up into a wicked smile as the air around me grew warm and flickers of flame appeared all around me. Immediatly I began to parry and twist, escaping the hammers and axes of the slavers by merely inches. As I began to take hold of my footing, I began to swing my staff around and bring down my witch's blade.

Flames licked the ground and began to crawl across the flesh and armor of the slaver's, whose images wavered in the heat of the intensity. A whirlwind of flame, staff and blade. A feat of destruction as the slavers fell before me, staining the hem of my toga and the darkened steel of my blade with their blood. It used to surprise me hearing the story of how Kahishu shook the forces of the Dragon Priests by himself in front of these great gates, but now I see what a Bard with a fierce determination and prodigous skill can do.

As the last slaver fell and many more retreated into the Velaka, I calmed my voice and wiped the sweat from my brow. Removing the balaclava from my head, I let my hair be whipped around by the fierce Velakan winds and let my mind ponder what had just happened.

I just helped defend my home, at my guild leader's instruction. But does Albreda shed a tear at the slayings? I must sit and contemplate this some more.

 

And still, I find my personal contemplations selfish. Word has reached us in the Velaka about foul sorceries in the South, and yet I am too determined to leave my now home. I would rather be here to defend, lest that foul stench made it's way across the mighty expanse of the desert.
 

In the region between Therengia and Forfedhdar lies the Arncharn Shel or “Ironstar Mountains”. The Arncharn Shel is home to the Dwarven Kingdom of Kwarlog. Kwarlog was founded in 1859 BL, and the Kingdom was considered the only expansionistic dwarven nation. After 1000 BL, and the ending of the Elven-Human War, Kwarlog expanded north to the Gemfire Mountains surrounding Velaka. Two expeditions into Velaka, from the new city of Hvaral were unsuccessful. Hvaral was abandoned by the dwarves in 63 AV, and is now held by Therengia.

Fall, Year 393.

At long last I have begun to consolidate information about the history and nations of the dwarves for a non-Dwarven audience. The first part, the outline and basic history is below.

~Kraggur


The Kingdom of Rendstaan was in the Journelai Shel between Zoluren and Therengia. It gradually faded beginning with the death of King Heksoch around 990 BL, with the kingdom fully abandoned by 535 BL. Internecine violence led to the non-partisans fleeing to Kwarlog.

Stone Clan is the small successor to Rendstaan, having been founded by a portion of Rendstaan’s army that had left for Imperial service. The halls were opened in 500 BL.

West of Zoluren and Ilithi are the Himineldar Shel or “Skyfire Mountains”. They are home to the dwarven nation centered at the capitol of Forfedhdar, Hibarnhvidar and the outposts of Ain Ghazal and Raven’s Point.

Astride the Dragon Spine Mountains once was the Iron Kingdom centered at the capitol Garnedhren. Iron Clan settlements first began in 3150 BL, with Garnedhren’s construction starting in 3048 BL. The city was built jointly with the Mountain Elves for aid rendered. In 2649 BL the kingdom fell to Morganae and was renamed Elamiri.

South of Ilithi are the ruins of High Hold and the Kingdom of Adamantia, high in the Hiimarhand Shel. High Hold was the first dwarven city and it lasted several millennia. No army ever conquered High Hold, until the creation of the Dark Hand by the Dragon Priests in 195 BL which led to High Hold’s isolation. It was eventually abandoned in 158 BL and the surviving dwarves joined Hibarnhvidar or Kwarlog.

After many years, I have decided it is time, and to help myself keep up with everything that is occurring in my life, I thought it best to write them down lest I forget, which has been known to happen.

So, here I am in Ratha, sitting at a table at Kygar's pub, eating some of their popped corn, drinking some ale, and throwing darts, and basically doing what ever I can possibly to to avoid doing what I should do.  I will attempt to not bore whomeever stumbles on this journal, as this is more for my benifit than anything else.  I suppose I should try and sort out my own childhood first... My Father was Kaldar, and a Bard, not well reknown, but then again he wasnt unknown either.  My mother was Elven, and a Cleric.  Not the most logical pair you would think, but there could be other more interesting pairings, like a Thief and a Paladin...I am wandering...To the point at hand.  My father, being who he was, and as charming as he was, caused my mother to fall in love with him, or at least dally with him for a time.  I was the result of that pairing.  I do not remember much about her, she and my father had a horrific fight when I was young, and an empath was needed. On both sides.  That night, my mother had filled a few sacks with what ever she thought she may have needed, and slipped out, I never saw her again.  Being raised by my father was not all that horrible though, I still missed my mother...I still miss my mother to this day.  Dad taught me how to fight, and while I could not carry a tune in a bucket, I did have an affinity to magic, and so through many meetings I was introduced to the Warrior Mage guild leader in Crossing, Gauthus.  My days were filled with learning many things, how to fight, and how to sense the elemental mana around me, I saw less and less of my father, that is until the town guards would come to the house either escorting him home, or summoning me to carry him home from jail where he had slept off the prior nights libations.  

The drinking was more often, until it came to the point where he had few sober moments if any during the day or night, as much as I loved my father, I could not bear to see him this way, and on my 18th birthday I to slipped out of the house and made my way to the Tower.  Gauthus welcomed me, and begain my training in earnest.   One day while I was in the Targetted Range, a messenger approached me, He spoke to me of my father.  He had gone down the mineshaft near the Reavers, wearing nothing but a loincloth, and using a pot lid and an eating knife, he had attempted to fight those vile creatures.  The could not tell if he had been thrown, jumped or if he had been so drunk that he fell, but they found his body at the bottem of the mine shaft.  I was unsure how to take it, the situation itself was so comical, I had to laugh, and even to this day I still laugh.  I find it hard to believe that my father is gone now, Walked the Starry Road. He was a strong man, and proud, but perhaps the loss of my mother, and then my abandoning him, cause his fall as well.  Did I have a hand in pushing him down the mine shaft?

I put those thoughts out of my mind, and focused on my training, the first few circles flew by, and I begain to wander about, leaving the Crossings for the first time, and I headed north to Riverhaven.  I stayed there for a little while and returned back to Crossing.  I met some very interesting people, but one person I did meet, was my Sister.  Bethney, She was a Bardess, interesting how fate weaves things.  She was married to an Empath, Osakin, and they had a daughter Goswanna.  She of course was the Elder sister, she explained to me about our mother, and that she had been bonded to another, many years ago, but he had died in an Invasion long before I was born, and that our Mother had felt she must leave that home, and search for a new place to start fresh...hence My Father, and I .  

I must stop now, and Mention the Arcanum, because without that group, I would have never met my wife.  

I was yet under my 20th circle in the guild, more like an apprentice in that group, and they had me off here and there exploring this land, going on simple quests.  Expanding my mind, learning many things.  I was taking a long overdue and well earned break, Sitting outside the tower, when this Young Elven woman came up.  She was so beautiful it took my breath away, And still to this day I am in awe that one such as her would think to even dally with me, much less be bonded with me.  What can I say, I am a charmer like my Father.  The only difference is while Nyn and I have had our moments where I am sure she would want to cast some sort of spell at me, she has not, and for that I am thankful and love her even more than I thought I could.  She drives me to do more than I thought I could, to push myself and become something more.  Were I to leave her alone for a week, with nothing but my Familiar bringing her food and drink, she would not put her sword down long enough to nothing but sleep.  She is a Ferocious spirit, and then there is me, I Would love to bury my nose in a book, search for that one lost spell that everyone else has been looking for for years. Practice my magic until mana would burn holes in my robes. So she balances me, and I balance her.  

My hand is cramping and the light is poor here in this pub, I think I will continue this story later on. 

*the parchment is stained with water at places blurring the text.*


393 Years, in the 6th Month of Arhat the Fire Lion, in the Year of the Bronze Wyvern.

I have left the Isles in all haste, word having reached the Isles via the last boat to dock here. As my last scroll, written nearly a year ago to this date, suggests, the foul perversion of the natural order is a plague upon us all. This threat has increased dramatically in recent weeks, something I have noticed through unusual activity in the constellation known as the Triquetra.

However, my fears were not confirmed until the courier arrived yesterday, bearing word that Shard was under repeated attack by hordes of undead led by a foul Adan’f necromancer. I travel now to Therengia seeking more information, as the Paladins and Clerics of the Keep there have long defied the undeath plaguing the realms.

I shall write more as I meet with the residents of Therenborough.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

6th Month of Arhat the Fire Lion.

The month now draws to a close and I have more disturbing information to write.

I arrived safely in Riverhaven and immediately sought travel farther west to reach Langenfirth. Having crossed the Lake, I began my travels north, and there I ran into undeath. The roads were contested by the undead. Fortunately such beings fell quickly beneath my hammer, and I was met by my old friend Tygor upon the road. He and I joined forces and fought through to the keep. Along the way we met several other travelers who were also fighting this menace. One was a lass I met long ago in Ratha, Redeth.

Arriving at the gates, Tygor and I found the militia had been called to arms and the keep isolated by raised drawbridge. At this point I took my leave to seek Solantir, for he was sure to know any activities that had occurred while I traveled.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

6th Month of Arhat the Fire Lion.

Southwards to Shard I now travel. The threat is darkest there, though persistent rumors occur that the necromancer Xerasyth will bring his armies northward to the River Crossing, and perhaps to Riverhaven or Therengia. No more seems to have yet come from the undead armies that assaulted Therenborough while I was journeying there. I believe it was a feint to keep aid from traveling south.

Furthermore, word has reached the northern areas that Xerasyth, who was once a Adan’f is now a Skra’Mur. What dark arts could do such a thing are beyond my knowing, or desire to understand. Learning such a path will only lead to madness and decay.

I met with Solantir, and he told me that he spent time with the Paladins in their Keep learning from them and assisting them in some small manner during the attack. He said that it seemed Riverhaven fell under attack around the same time as Therenborough was attacked, but the details had not yet reached that far north. The militias in the area took the threat very seriously and it is why I travel south. I must see firsthand what is occurring and aid in what ways I might. If nothing else I must reach Forfhedar and talk with whomever I may, as it alone of the provinces I have yet to hear any word from. I worry that the Dragon Priests may have closed the passage overland through Raven’s Point, yet I must attempt to get through.

If word reaches there before I do, I must attempt to meet with and rally the dwarves against this threat. Such an army may help oppose any move by the Necromancers to strike father north, or at least delay them.

Kertigen protect those who fight this menace.

Signed by my hand.

Kraggur of the Tribes.

 Had a great chat with Kelvena as the sun was setting and rain was pouring.  As usual I'd missed some action with the adan'f stealing wood and metal from Steel Claw Clan.  I immediately thought these to be siege weapon components, but there was no real evidence for that.  We talked a little about the curse that supposedly keeps the adan'f in the woods south of the city.  I don't much understand it.  If it's supposed to keep them in the woods, or I guess "bind them to the woods" is a better way to say it, why can they just traipse around as they please killing and stealing?  I've heard Xerasyth wishes to break the curse so he can leave the woods, but he leaves the woods all the time!

It's to bad we can't get the clerics to reinforce the curse, make it stronger... I've seen and experienced the curse spells they cast, they must have some way of doing that.

Ah well I'm thinking to much, that's dangerous, not like I can do anything about any of this stuff.  Time to stash the pen and go kill some critters.

393 years, 179 days AV
5th month of Uthmor the Giant, Bronze Wyvern.

Dear Father,

I did not think I would be writing you again so soon, but as this concerns you as much as me I feel I need to inform you. Her Majesty has made an appearance in Shard. His Highness, the Prince was with her as well as she spoke on matters regarding relations between Shard and Ilithi. I tried to remain respectful as possible, as you taught me should I ever been honoured enough to be presented to her Majesty but I was able to steal a glance at her. She wore the silver wrought mask that everyone speaks of, the face sculpted into a woman's countenance and looks rather pitiless and remote. When her head tilted, I could see flashes of dark eyes through the eye slits. The enigmatic smile on the mask was a little unnerving, though. Her hair was a glory, all black and flowing down to her knees like a cape. She is small and slight, like you said but I feel she is not fragile and anyone who thinks so would be deceived. While she awed me, I was more intrigued with the Prince, whom I have never met but seen from afar on occasion. I am not sure if you have been presented to him ever, father. His face is angular and sharp, but I think softened by his eyes which are a fantastic dark green. He looked on us all assembled with cool assessment, and was a little tan which I found surprising for our people.

But do forgive me, you aren't concerned with my opinions on how I found Her Majesty. I am sure you want to know what she said... or what was said through her. Vethine, a Rose Sister recently come to Shard from Ain Ghazal spoke some for her. Announcing first the reason Her Majesty had come, and to announce the death of Isilshori, recently the betrothed to the Prince. The Emissary, Lady Ayrell Eyvntine was not available to give a report so Xelten Tyrsin gave it in her place. I did not envy him at all. He spoke of the Outcasts and the Therengian marriage, and how it came about - which was the reason for Her Majesty's visit. He was concise and to the point. Her Majesty inquired about the climate of the people in Shard, and Xelten answered honestly. People are not much amused, and are thankful the Ferdahl has made her displeasure known. We were told that the Baron is.. "but a bee in a very busy bonnet." and we are to merely brush him aside. After he spoke, and inquired about his own personal lands to be restored, Sister Vethine asked to allow me to speak for Her Majesty. I was completely frozen at this point (a slight pun on my part, you see). I made shift to slide forward from the wall and shadows I was in and used the deepest curtsy that Mother had taught me. Most of the words you told me to speak many years ago fell away, though I am sorry to admit. I was in complete awe. I did manage to inform Her Majesty that I was honoured by her presence and made my allegiance known - something I had not done publicly. Also, like you told me I informed her of my parentage so there were no surprises later. She asked of my position in Shard which I have none, so I informed her of that. She asked what I did and I told her I listen and research, and keep my eyes and ears open. I have to mention, the Prince had been looking at me intently and said I bore a resemblance to "him". I am not sure whom this is, could you perhaps make inquiries of your friends still in Elamiri? It was most curious to me. Nothing much of consequence was said, I spoke of my position in Zoluren and have been appointed to be a nursemaid of sorts to Lady Alrina. She was once lady-in-waiting to Her Highness Arilana before I was, if you remember. The Lady was not pleased at the choice, and the prospect of the work makes me a little nervous, but I will do my duty as Her Majesty commanded.

Before she left us, she mentioned she would be speaking with Her Grace, the Ferdahl about the Therengian matter, so I do hope that everything there gets swiftly resolved. Please, if you have any further advice sent it to me as soon as you can.

Your faithful daughter,

Ysselt

393/157, 5th month of Uthmor the Giant, YO the Bronze Wyvern:
Waiting for the Gondola

I had a discussion with several people today with regard to the Gypsy King Talorc, not the least of which was Mivoring who had taunted Talorc until the King retaliated with some sort of spirit damaging spell.

Her tactics were effective: Bigotry combined with blatant disdain.

I confess that I cared little for Talorc's plight or her point of view but I was curious what would garner such a negative reaction. While I believe reason was present for this Ranger to hold Talorc in such low regard, she did not care so much about his previous tresspass more than his propensity or perhaps ability to do damage to Ilithi in the future and thus the Queen.

I was unsure of the logic behind such a response. As she goaded him until she made her suspicions a reality when he did indeed attack.

I did present her with a line of reasoning similar to that which she gave Talorc and though I made it as rediculous as possible...she refused to see fault in it. Clinging to her defense instead of admitting an uncomfortable truth about herself.

She also seemed...perturbed that I follow no rule but my own going so far as to say that she was a blind servant of Morganae and would slay her best friend should her queen call on her to do so.

I didn't and still don't see the difference. Loyalty to oneself only or loyalty soley to another. I have since concluded that she is the embodiment of my isolation. People are too unpredictable when they're not fighting.

I was intrigued by the necromantic discussion I got into with another, though as I write this his name escapes me.

It is widely known that there are things that are not publicly accepted. Blackfire I understand as it has long term detrimental effects. I would trust no one but myself with that power. I fail to see the reasoning behind this rapid and pervasive hatred of necromancy, however. I presented my arguments to this man and he could give no better reason than, "It's evil" or "The Gods frown on it".  He was neither mad nor stupid...simply ignorant and unwilling to change his perspective on something when shown the obvious conclusion that there IS nothing wrong with Necromancy.

Evil does not exist. Right and wrong, good and bad are all a matter of perspective. To claim something is evil is to proclaim the universe a just and moral place. Some argue this very point but they seem as a prince berating a commoner for starving. To argue that our existence is defined and shaped by inherent justice is...stupidity on a scale that I don't feel the need to rail against. Anyone who believes this is incapable of seeing truth.

I do not pretend to 'get along' with all the denizens of my world, I kill when needs be or even should I feel the urge...but I don't presume to consider my opponents and victims evil. They are simply at odds with my perspective and lacking the power to shape their world past my desire.

Evil and good are illusions created to absolve guilt of those who would otherwise have to see their actions for what they truly are. Selfish and brutal.

The nature of the world gives no concessions to those who embrace their 'good' or even 'evil'. It's a pattern of thought designed soley to allow people to accept their role in the world and I find that people who generally embrace these ideals are susceptable to other, equally false, ideologies.

Selfish desire and power to act on it are the two truths of life. All action stems from selfishness. All success of action stems from power and it's proper application be it brute force or a silver tongue.

People who embrace comfortable lies sicken me.

I left my damn keys on the coffee table again. I was half-way to Mer'Kresh when I realized. That never would have happened if the maid had gotten my eggs right. Runny yokes, Yolashandra. RUNNY. Ysselt says she's a friend of a friend but she can't cook and she's ugly to boot.

Note: fire her (literally) when you get back.

Then make her find your keys.