I daresay I haven’t the slightest idea what today’s date is. The significance of such details escapes me. I never had a numerological inclination I couldn’t decline.
If it isn’t the 28th of Od then perhaps I’m not really Tyvernos Oriflamme, Ambassador-attache of the Air’s lofty airs, Delegate of Dirigible Deeds, Emissary of Eagles’ Aeries, Envoy of the Skies, Herald of Harmattan, Plenipotentiary-Proxy of Plenary Gales and Tempestuous Gusts, Servant to the Sirocco, Sage of the Squall (and, among other lesser-known circles, the Whiner of the Winds).
It’s true. My loyalties lie split somewhere betwixt and betwain the Elemental Air and Bennu. As my lord and lady’s most diminutive (read: humble) servant I appease the gods with St. Bernard’s Brandy and unflinching heroism in the face of outrageous fortune. So, it is with a heavy heart that I pen these events. My only hope is to obscure my personal account of these events with a delirium of confusion and poor penmanship, (read: illegible Dragonese). You can’t read Dragonese can you? Well that’s two of us.
Our group of intrepid adventurers arrived in Otter without incident and we even managed to dock our vessel without incurring egregious amounts of damage to her precious hull (see previous logs). But I’m not here to talk about Matilda’s structural integrity. A dinner with Malkin in enlightened CrIsis and endowed us with gifts of both knowledge and mundivagant travel. The Sage spoke of an Island he called Lemaria in the Sea of Dread outside the territorial boundaries of the Kingdom of Bizantium. Women worshipers – Isis-ites – protect the island from all outsiders. The Pantheon of Ra? Malkin also mentioned the Isle of Set – an island on the island of Lemaria – that is filled to near-teeming with maggots, nightowls, and all manner of heeby-geeby, scary-wary, beany-baby-meany-monsters. Naturally, our curiosities were piqued and our tails twitched with the anticipation of a sex-starved, cream-licking kitten-caboodle. Reports were made of Set, himself, having been sighted on the island and wearing the trophy Ribs of Osiris proudly and on display. The gall!
The Bizantium Scouting Corps will have mapped the area and are in possession of the only cartographical charts known to successfully navigate those formidable waters. Would that I were a Water Warlock! Belay that. Robert the Just is a hero in Byzantium and he may be just what the CrIsis doctor ordered. We’ll be meeting up with him in Me’zfii Onh and our hopes rest on persuading him to procure those maps.
The ranger eyes me with suspicion. Does he know?
Ask more of the Gnome about the Library of Alarassa!
The Dragon’s Claw holds all the dangers of both the Northern Wilderness and Northern Hinterlands: Frigid cold, Algor frost giants, ice demons, coyle, goumaru, and angel-demon serpents. Lions, and tigers, and Bugbears! Oh my! This Gnomish Dorothy ignited the Oriflamme-bay under the legendary Elven community. Otto is easily distracted by the meal and, suffice to say, the particulars of Malkin’s information-dense speech escape me. Perhaps I’ll jog the acumen annals with another snifter.
Dread Pirate Jason! Bismarck’s ears perked up at the mention of his barbarous forefather. I think it’s safe to say that Otto is a direct product of that sea-scallywag and his tyrannical reign over this region. The Chronicler, Malkin tells us, tells the tales of the unrecorded war but he is cursed with Cassandra’s own inverse complex. He is destined to know the past but have no one believe him.
Malkin gave us a tent that magically simulates the tropics, some bandages that sense blood, and a Global Positioning Satellite gem for Overkill’s orienteering.
30th of Od
Have two days passed? No. I think not. Bide a moment…
I stand corrected. Otto has accurately relayed today’s date as it pertains to the sun’s position in the sky and the shadow his shaggy form casts upon the ground at noon. Another two weeks of Spring? For shame! Gorgeous day! Mezfi’Onh isn’t far as the crow flies. No. As the Saint Bernard swims. The ranger caught me leaving a trail of breadcrumbs today though the sea swallowed them whole and denied my efforts. I employed my best theatrics and earnest histrionics. The honey-cake is not a lie.
I know not how much time has passed but the weather in Mezfi’Onh is god-forsaken and miserable; it is cold and the sleet falling from my beloved sky is freezing as it impacts. I neglected to write while aboard the buoyant Matilda and her salient solution. Otto, having finally found his sea-legs, preceded me off the dock and elicited a Robert the Snigger’s snickering. The brave Bernard was exhausted after chasing off a nocturnal emission with the aid of a Waterbat and when he stumbled on the plank I lost my grip on his fur-covered chassis. Bennu is as glad that we’re on dry land again as she must be that we’ve encountered Robert. This is a man who radiates Holy Power the way only true Servants of the Light can. His warhammer and mace are outlandish and awe-inspiring.
We never miss an opportunity to produce our CrIsis Steins and break bread with VIPs.
Stweeb the venison connoisseur was the proprietor at our Tavern of our choice and he had procured reindeer venison! He’s the personification of “service with a Stweebsmile.” Robert the Just then regaled us with a tale of innocent Wolfen being raped and pillaged and razed to the ground. Not exactly appetite-inspiring dinner conversation; I have the appetite of a lion and nothing can deter Otto from his meal once his jowls have drooped. His prayers to Algor went unanswered. A Priest of Ra suggested seeking Horus instead of revenge on the murderous captain but the madman died in a battle with a sea serpent and Robert has followed Horus ever since. Robert, it appears, shares a hometown with Overkill. Robert shall accompany us on our journey! H u z z a h ! ! ! The more the merrier! That’s what I always say…when my mouth isn’t full.
Greldarr left the group. He was jealous of Otto’s prowess; the Bismarck’s are notoriously well-endowed. His parting gifts to each of us were two superior healing potions and two vials of Holy Water.
We decide to disturb Dread Pirate Jason’s resting place after we visit my childhood home – a reunion with my parents – but not before we head to the Library of Alarassa.
25th of Algor?
Hoedric wrote us a letter though he had Malkin read it to us. His penmanship might be worse than mine. Malkin informed us of the Zealotry – a group who believes that all ancient knowledge and books and power should be destroyed. They have incited a war on books and institutions of learning and information. Radicals! Malkin enlisted the aid of CrIsis in the defense of any libraries we encounter.
Little of note transpired before the morning we set out save for Robert’s flawless crooning that serenaded all in the tavern with a tawdry ballad of his sea shanty.
Morning of the 26th of Algor – we’re setting out for the Library of Alarassa and taking 10k in jewels and a bunch of pack horses but NO WAGONS. I am to be the group’s guide. Hah! I’m sure the ranger is suspicious of me. He seems to have taken a liking to Otto von Bismarck and is secretly wooing him with lightning arrows. The two plot and scheme and conspire against me. Should I go to the group with this information? Pshaw. The burden of proof lay squarely between my elfin shoulders.
Later that day Algor frost giants told us to get the eff out of their way and we did so — no questions asked. My skills in diplomacy are just a small taste of my burgeoning talent-pool. Not many disturbances besides the weather the next week — five days later. We found a log trap that could have crushed the lead gnome – frontiersman extraordinaire – but we found a Wolfen skeleton instead. The ranger is onto me. I know it. Otto’s loyalties are easily swayed.
(The following is garbled and illegible and nearly impossible to read without an EXCEPTIONAL roll of the Literacy: Dragonese skill.)
Ttrees a re movni g. I see a whte roc k I rec ognyzed!
koOMBAT!!!! Mgic u sers, wyrd lo oking knife s, wyird look ig staffes, a very od loking elf inn t he center. Uh oh! W eer enterng neghot iations!?!? FLEeET FEeET FROM CHIP!!! T HE ZEALOTRY INQq UISITON!!!!
Butt thay k nohw Tyvernos! Thank t hee EFFING gawds! We were almost dead. BYOMANCIE!?!?! What in th e hell iss that?
I apologize about that last entry. I took solace in the face of adversity and danger by hiding behind the shag carpet and scribbling in my diary; the ranger appears to be the only one who took notice. Thankfully the adrenaline did not impinge upon my ability to spell.
Mossy caps, spell logs, stones to sit upon, and a small wood fire when they took us into their camp. Firsar welcomed us to the Wood Hall of the Defilers with a cornucopia of druidic foods and a garden of earthly delights. A feast of epic proportions and lots of yummy food! Much mirth and merriment was had by all!
Alarassa has been remade in a new image. But whose? This is separate and apart from the old Library and Firsar promised to take us there in the morning. The night was neither capped nor complete before Chip cast a spell that produced some kind of hard, carapace type of armor on his skin and impressed the druids with his knowledge of the arcane. He certainly loves the spotlight.
I yawned and yawed. Need sleep. More yammering. Defilers. Malkin again? The Zealotry has stricken…they struck and destroyed the library and the beautiful Biomancy tree-city of Alarassa; it is a sad day indeed. Evidently, this is why they wish to rebuild Alarassa Renato He saved the oldest living copy of the Tristine Chronicles. We are to take the book and bring it back to the Library. Don’t we have more important things to do for the Forces of Light? How long will it take? Otto voiced his opinion though I’m loathe to pen it to paper. The Dread Pirate Jason was chief among the pirate bands that destroyed the Druid nation; his reliquary, hoard, stash, and treasures should be our next goal. Chip learned a new spell from the Biomancers – apparently he’s an Air Warlock too! It’s wonderful to meet kindred spirits. I wonder if he knows about Otto. Did the ranger tell him? Alarassa Renato / Reborn. Then on to Tyvernos’s HOMESTEAD. It took a week to get here.
5th of Grekar
Mom and dad welcomed me with open arms into their waiting bosoms. The prodigal Gnome returned! Shaniqua and Oren Oriflamme! Ebony and Ivory. My mother and father make such a cute couple. The stop was brief but warm and wonderful. I apprised my father of High Snow’s accounting and stayed for a home-cooked meal but didn’t tarry long. Before we left Dad told us of a vision he had of much wealth and the Dread Pirate Jason.
15th of Grekar
An old hag ambushed us on the way back to Me’zfii Onh and we were set upon by vampire humans and vampire Wolfen. Vampires! Holy water! Stake ‘em! Chip leads the skewering festivities with a few shishkabobs! I’m wholly unfamiliar with the intricacies of fighting the undead but it seems I’ll be given my first real lesson in triage. One of the fang-bangers took a rather large chunk of my cherubic lineament in its opening salvo. Once bitten! He must have been hungry. I’d just as soon let him keep it. I was never very attached in the first place. A rush of wind relieved him of the burden of my buffet and sent him careening into the salad bar. The healing salve of Otto saliva appears to have reconstructed my marred visage though the group has conspired to keep me from the odd reflective surface. Sigh…
They cannot be trusted.
Posted on the 15th of Grekar, in the 68th year of the Empire.
Otto picture by Louisel.