Sunday, July 13, 2008


That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.
The Merchant of Venice, William Shakespeare

After the last patron left the bar, I walked up to Hobart as he sat counting the nights take at the bar. "I hope my rimes have done good for you tonight. I was hoping you might indulge me a moment. The man who is to be executed on the morn...what family does he have here?"

On the Road

I pity myself, because a man is dead.
If Belmont County killed him, what of me?
His victims never loved him. Why should we?
And yet, nobody had to kill him either.
-- At the Executed Murderer's Grave, James Wright

Salbadore and Orthos had decided that we would take the possessions of the brigands, and let all free save the leader, who would go to justice in Corcoran. As we walked, I considered the fate of this man, who had killed another. Surely he would be killed, and my heart hung heavy at the thought, but those seemed to be the laws of this land, and I was bound to obey them. And I had not seen those laws to have eyes for mercy.

I walked alongside the two of them, composing my thoughts before I begged an indulgence. Honey would get me much farther with Salbadore than any diatribe on freedom.

"So what do you do when the law is...unjust?" We bandied for a bit about the laws of Elf and Man, as I instructed him in our ways, and he told me some of theirs. The laws were made by Nobles, and could not be changed by a mere mortal. He mentioned the overthrow of cruel or unjust nobles, but so casually as to assume all such things came naturally.

He did see the meaning in my words, though, and came to the true heart of the matter. "You know - though I am curious about elves, I sense that your real point lays in whether or not the brigands might have reason to break the law."

We bandied the point about for some time, disputing whether one could have reason to break the law, and how punishment would be metered for such breeches. I had expected, I admit, to find him adamant about the infallible righteous of the laws of Man, but even he had an eye for mercy. A surprise, to be sure. Perhaps His Shadow did not fall as long as it seemed, and light was able to pierce its darkness.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008


After the party, Virgis' familiar gave us a choice. Treasure, or a draw from a magic deck of cards. I had heard of these cards - they could give you great fortune, or death, or anything in between. I'm sure my mother would have dissapproved, but I wanted to take the chance.

It was...a mistake. Somehow, my ring went missing...and they saw for who I really am. Most took it with aplomb, but Salbadore...he called me a spy! He blames me for the death of his friends, calls me a traitor.

Traitor to an emperor such as his? I wish I could explain somehow, make him understand...let him see what really goes on, and how people suffer. But I fear it is too late, and I will become a fugitive.

I suppose it could be worse...

Saturday, June 7, 2008

Missive, Part Three

Supply Wagon has iron based moon rock. Party member captured with gnome.


A simple twist of fate
And opportunity that fell into my hands
-- The Princess's Escort, Justin Gildow

Here was my opportunity to find out about the other wagon. I walked over to help out the soldier, hoping to sneak a peak inside as well. I stood next to the cover, leaning over to try and look inside as I held the lantern.

Friday, May 30, 2008

Another Missive

Prisoner is gnome. In cage, guarded by invisible creature. Caravan accompanied by four wyvern riders.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

The Wagon

For he saw the Riders coming hard and he heard their mournful cry
Yippie yi Ohhhhh
Yippie yi yaaaaay
Ghost Riders in the sky
- Ghost Riders in the Sky, Johnny Cash

I wasn't sure exactly what the response to my missive meant, but soon it became apparent.


They have always looked so...dashing, flying on their brilliant shields. And now I had the distraction I needed.

Markus dived behind the prisoner wagon, and motioned for me to do the same. I think he was trying to protect me in some way. How his own, lecherous manor. I joined him, and waited for the troops to fire before sneaking into the wagon, sure their eyes were no longer on me.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

A conversation

I left the "dear" Captain as soon as I was able, and settled my bill with Hobart. While I was there, I asked him if he would ask Markus to stop by my room once the guardsman left; I had some questions for him. I sent my missive, and packed up my bag while I waited.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

A Missive

Met imperial prisoner caravan from South in Corcoran. Conscripted to accompany to rendevous at Imperial Road to North. Leaving Corcoran in one hour. Awaiting Reply.

Of caverns, and gnomes, and children

Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
-- Dylan Thomas

We've just returned from our rescue attempt. One child saved, one gone. And new companions, however long they will last.

Orthos - a mage, although his magic seems unlike that of my home...perhaps humans have different ways in such things

Markus - a drunk and a womanizer, but not a coward; he seems to have acquired some type of golem in the cave - Womblie is his name now

Varel (and Wolfie) - A druid and her companion, although she seems a little...soft for such endeavors

Nibben - a gnome who had been investigating the cave, seems a stealthy sort

Salbadore - a mage of the Lebenskraft Guildhouse, rescued from the goblins and "yuan-ti"; he has a raven with him, Mayna

Sunday, April 13, 2008

A Beginning

O dark and still are the wet fern
And trees where no birds nest;

What heed have I for night or day

Who ride a livelong quest?

- The Enchanted Forest, Cicely Fox Smith

As I set my foot upon the road to Corcoran, I pondered my mother's last words. "You may find those lands interesting, and lose yourself in them for while, but remember, your home is always here." What would I find in these "interesting" lands? Would I soon grow weary of them and long to return back home, or would I, like my mother before me, spend years of my life fascinated by all they had to offer? The one thing I knew for certain is that I had to find the answer.