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<blockquote data-quote="sniffles" data-source="post: 3098714" data-attributes="member: 30035"><p><strong>The Collected Journals of Artemis Heuw, excerpt 11</strong></p><p></p><p><em>(I'm posting another entry on behalf of Devo - sniffles)</em></p><p></p><p>"... cold and still. On the upper shelf, a small ceramic cup with blue flowers -- the one I had made when I was just five years old -- held a clutch of tindertwigs, their red and yellow heads barely visible. I mechanically moved the burner back against the wall, noticing with dull surprise that I could not smell the burning fumes I always associate with that particular piece of equipment. It's fire was out, as it had been for over a week now. My whole lab was like that -- sterile, silent. Lifeless. Even Stark sat motionless. For the first time in my life, I found no comfort in my lab. My father is dead."</p><p></p><p>. -- An excerpt from the Craft Journal of Artemis Heuw Cannith, Volume 6</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>" I record this now because I am supposed to. It was my father who first convinced me to keep a journal [Ref PJ-V1-1]. I can still hear his voice: "Every day you will find both success and failure. Learn from your failures. Record your successes. In this way, you will become and remember your greatness. A journal will help you with that." And so I write. </p><p></p><p>It seems to have been a whle since my last entry.</p><p></p><p>Our exodus from the Mournland was not without incident. UF guided us rather skillfully away from Whitehearth. I recognized that he was helping us avoid some dangers. Others, we willingly sought out. </p><p></p><p>On our first night out we made camp at a magical spring. It's waters providing healing to those of us brave enough to try them. The well was occupied, though, by large, magically displaced serpents who took umbrage at our appearance. We dealt with them harshly, then covered the well when we discovered there were many more in the waters below. </p><p></p><p>It was our second day out when we started running into the warforged. In our first encounter, we witnessed a pack of seven or eight warforged warriors fighting a warforged titan. The titan appeared to have the upper hand, but it wasn't a certainty how the fight would end. It was hard to see what damage the titan might have sustained, as he bore a number of makeshift parts and attachments. Even with my training, I couldn't tell what was working properly and what wasn't. We were quite some distance out, though, as we didn't want to get involved in their fight. We moved on.</p><p></p><p>Later that same day we ran into another project manned by warforged. What at first appeared to be a large, globular structure in the wastes of the Mournland turned out to be the backside of what looked to be a gigantic warforged head. Workers clambered all around, with warriors on patrol as well. Scattered steam vents and piled scrap indicated a much larger operation underground. Perhaps they are building an enormous warforged super titan? If the rest of the creature was proportionate to it's head, it would be large enough to threaten Sharn.</p><p></p><p>Again, however, we didn't get too close. The danger was simply too great.</p><p></p><p>It took us longer than expected, but eventually we left the Mournland. There would be one last fight, though. It was still light out -- what passed for day in these lands. Without warning, we were attacked by a monstrous creature that could burrow through the earth. It had enormous horns, and impaled poor UF before CA and GR could take the creature down. Even RA showed his colors during the fight, using his body (and one of our magebred horses [ref: PJ-V5-85]) to bait the creature away when CA and GR needed some distance. </p><p></p><p>In the end, we destroyed the creature and buried UF. A short time later, we were out of the Mournlands. </p><p></p><p>Within a day, we had located the remains of our Cannith contact [ref: PJ-V4-54] and his magical wagon. It looked like he had been killed by some large creature. His wagon was smashed to pieces. I may have been the undead wyvern DA had warned us about. The hobgoblin village we visted later that day gave the same appearance. Much of the village -- and many of the villagers -- had been burned, however. Whatever did this was large and powerful.</p><p></p><p>We made our way to Rhukan Draal to meet lady d'Vown [ref: PJ-V4-37]. Along the way we passed through a village that had just been taken over by an orc bandit army calling itself the Red Hand. We stayed just long enough to learn that we didn't want to stay at all, then were on our way.</p><p></p><p>It was in Rhukan Draal that IR left our company. She had been visted by a spirit vision -- she called it something like that -- while we were in the Mournlands, and decided that she needed to go to Aerenal to discover it's meaning. I mentioned that Sharn had some wonderful dreamspeakers, and that they could help her interpret her vision, but she just gave me the harshest glare. I'm sure it would have shaken a lesser man. I was sorry to see her go: the DC will miss her convictions. I had a feeling we'd miss more than just her convictions before too long.</p><p></p><p>Rhukan Draal was just as I remembered it. Filth and stink. Luckily, Lady d'Vown met us within a day. She paid us for our recovery of the schema, and was keenly interested to find out that there were other parties involved in the hunt. She gave us a bonus for the mithral plate [ref: PJ-V5-77], then paid us to escort her back to Sharn. I used the time on the boat trip to craft my first wand [Ref: CJ-V6-17].</p><p></p><p>On a side note, we were a bit rushed in Rhukan Draal and I had to ask GR to do some shopping for me. Prices were a bit high in there, sure, but you would still think that someone with his "Lower Sharn" mentality could have managed to find better deals. GR does not know how to haggle with merchants. I won't be asking him to buy anything else for me, that's for sure.</p><p></p><p>We got into Sharn late in the afternoon. We had just enough time to check up on our House Kundarik account [ref: PJ-V4-18] before going our seperate ways. Professor Borramar had gotten our note, thankfully, and had not only picked up the breastplate [ref: PJ-V3-84], but had deposited our reward as well. We took the money and split it.</p><p></p><p>DA was still with us, as she had never been to Sharn before. She asked where she might find decent accomodations and, naturally, I was the only one in the DC who knew of any. I spoke up before anyone could mention the Broken Anvil. DA and I bid farewell to the others and made our way over to the southeast districts. I left DA in the skyboat and paid the driver -- tipping him nicely. I gave DA and the driver the names of three places I though DA would like, then made for home. As HU and I made our way through the Court of Nine Lamps in Stavros tower, I noticed that vandals had marred the statue. I told HU to remind me to find out who the statue represented -- he was ugly even before being marred like that. The statue was ugly, not HU.</p><p></p><p>I noticed the door to the office was</p><p></p><p>It was dark when</p><p></p><p>It happened almost a month ago. To be fair, though, I suppose this is the first time I've ever written about it. Why can't I pull my thoughts together?</p><p></p><p>It was evening by the time I came home. I have no recollection of rain or wind or cloud cover of any sort, nor if there was even a sky at all. That's silly, though. Of course there was a sky. I just can't remember it. I wish I could.</p><p></p><p>The tower was quiet except for the sound of splashing water. I set my chest over near the fountain. (Actually, HU reminds me, he went over there himself to set a lilly afloat in the waters). No one was about, which wasn't odd. I had been away for almost a month, and wasn't up-to-date on Sharn's social calendar. The rest of the family could have been out at a show or at a party hosted by one of the city's elite. Twiggy might have been bored enough to demand the family pick up and go out for an evening's entertainment. Jaiya would have accompanied them, to attend mother.</p><p></p><p>But I'm rambling. I saw nothing out of place when I came home, with one notable exception. On the floor above me, visible through the second-floor overlook, the door to father's office was open. He only left that door open when he came out to fetch someone from the waiting room. I glanced to my left, but there were no wine glasses on the waiting room tables, nor any other signs of recent occupation. Rather than call up to father, I climbed the stairs and went around to his office.</p><p></p><p>I wish I could forget what I saw there, and remember instead the rain that night, or clear skies or brisk winds. Anything else.</p><p></p><p>My father's office was a little darker than normal. There was a smell in the air that I had sensed before, but it was so alien in this familiar place that I simply shut it out. Shadows played in the far corner, giving the impression of movement. I paid them no heed. </p><p></p><p>My father sat in gentle repose, draped forward over his desk. His head lay on a sheaf of documents; one hand in his lap and the other curled lightly around the mithral-sheathed pen mother had bought him for his birthday last year. There was a wound, large and horrible on the top of his head, but surprisingly little blood. The next few moments were a blur. I know I went over to his side. I moved him, to see if he could somehow still be alive. HU's account of the situation and a later inventory indicated that I may have tried using a healing potion on him. He was dead, though. Though I had never seen it's like before, I knew the wound was caused by an illithid.</p><p></p><p>I ran out to find the rest of my family.</p><p></p><p>Mother was just down the hall in her bedroom, and Twiggy across the tower in hers. An argument earlier in the evening had sent them both sulking to their respective rooms.They were in the hall, wide-eyed with surprise and panic, when I came out of father's office. Perhaps some noise I had made had roused them. I stood there, in the doorway to father's study, eyes locked with mother's. </p><p></p><p>Twiggy was yelling something; shouting questions, perhaps. My mother looked from my face down to my right hand, and shuddered in fear and horror at the blood she saw there. I brought my hand up to look at it, and realized that this was probably the first time she had seen someone else's blood on me.</p><p></p><p>She ran past me before I could react. And screamed; a loud piteous noise.</p><p></p><p>I came into the room with Twiggy right behind me. The window was open now, the fresh air a stark counterpoint to the scent of blood that still filled the room. A scent I had blocked out earlier. HU pulled at my jacket and pointed: on the mirror over the fireplace, scrawled in my father's blood, was the phrase, "Give me the Orb of Xoriat". Overcome, I was suddenly sick."</p><p></p><p></p><p>. -- An excerpt from the Personal Journal of Artemis Heuw Cannith, Volume 6</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>-- "37"</p><p></p><p>. -- An excerpt from the margin note "Nmbr litigators this wk" found in the Personal Journal of Artemis Heuw Cannith, Volume 6</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="sniffles, post: 3098714, member: 30035"] [b]The Collected Journals of Artemis Heuw, excerpt 11[/b] [I](I'm posting another entry on behalf of Devo - sniffles)[/I] "... cold and still. On the upper shelf, a small ceramic cup with blue flowers -- the one I had made when I was just five years old -- held a clutch of tindertwigs, their red and yellow heads barely visible. I mechanically moved the burner back against the wall, noticing with dull surprise that I could not smell the burning fumes I always associate with that particular piece of equipment. It's fire was out, as it had been for over a week now. My whole lab was like that -- sterile, silent. Lifeless. Even Stark sat motionless. For the first time in my life, I found no comfort in my lab. My father is dead." . -- An excerpt from the Craft Journal of Artemis Heuw Cannith, Volume 6 " I record this now because I am supposed to. It was my father who first convinced me to keep a journal [Ref PJ-V1-1]. I can still hear his voice: "Every day you will find both success and failure. Learn from your failures. Record your successes. In this way, you will become and remember your greatness. A journal will help you with that." And so I write. It seems to have been a whle since my last entry. Our exodus from the Mournland was not without incident. UF guided us rather skillfully away from Whitehearth. I recognized that he was helping us avoid some dangers. Others, we willingly sought out. On our first night out we made camp at a magical spring. It's waters providing healing to those of us brave enough to try them. The well was occupied, though, by large, magically displaced serpents who took umbrage at our appearance. We dealt with them harshly, then covered the well when we discovered there were many more in the waters below. It was our second day out when we started running into the warforged. In our first encounter, we witnessed a pack of seven or eight warforged warriors fighting a warforged titan. The titan appeared to have the upper hand, but it wasn't a certainty how the fight would end. It was hard to see what damage the titan might have sustained, as he bore a number of makeshift parts and attachments. Even with my training, I couldn't tell what was working properly and what wasn't. We were quite some distance out, though, as we didn't want to get involved in their fight. We moved on. Later that same day we ran into another project manned by warforged. What at first appeared to be a large, globular structure in the wastes of the Mournland turned out to be the backside of what looked to be a gigantic warforged head. Workers clambered all around, with warriors on patrol as well. Scattered steam vents and piled scrap indicated a much larger operation underground. Perhaps they are building an enormous warforged super titan? If the rest of the creature was proportionate to it's head, it would be large enough to threaten Sharn. Again, however, we didn't get too close. The danger was simply too great. It took us longer than expected, but eventually we left the Mournland. There would be one last fight, though. It was still light out -- what passed for day in these lands. Without warning, we were attacked by a monstrous creature that could burrow through the earth. It had enormous horns, and impaled poor UF before CA and GR could take the creature down. Even RA showed his colors during the fight, using his body (and one of our magebred horses [ref: PJ-V5-85]) to bait the creature away when CA and GR needed some distance. In the end, we destroyed the creature and buried UF. A short time later, we were out of the Mournlands. Within a day, we had located the remains of our Cannith contact [ref: PJ-V4-54] and his magical wagon. It looked like he had been killed by some large creature. His wagon was smashed to pieces. I may have been the undead wyvern DA had warned us about. The hobgoblin village we visted later that day gave the same appearance. Much of the village -- and many of the villagers -- had been burned, however. Whatever did this was large and powerful. We made our way to Rhukan Draal to meet lady d'Vown [ref: PJ-V4-37]. Along the way we passed through a village that had just been taken over by an orc bandit army calling itself the Red Hand. We stayed just long enough to learn that we didn't want to stay at all, then were on our way. It was in Rhukan Draal that IR left our company. She had been visted by a spirit vision -- she called it something like that -- while we were in the Mournlands, and decided that she needed to go to Aerenal to discover it's meaning. I mentioned that Sharn had some wonderful dreamspeakers, and that they could help her interpret her vision, but she just gave me the harshest glare. I'm sure it would have shaken a lesser man. I was sorry to see her go: the DC will miss her convictions. I had a feeling we'd miss more than just her convictions before too long. Rhukan Draal was just as I remembered it. Filth and stink. Luckily, Lady d'Vown met us within a day. She paid us for our recovery of the schema, and was keenly interested to find out that there were other parties involved in the hunt. She gave us a bonus for the mithral plate [ref: PJ-V5-77], then paid us to escort her back to Sharn. I used the time on the boat trip to craft my first wand [Ref: CJ-V6-17]. On a side note, we were a bit rushed in Rhukan Draal and I had to ask GR to do some shopping for me. Prices were a bit high in there, sure, but you would still think that someone with his "Lower Sharn" mentality could have managed to find better deals. GR does not know how to haggle with merchants. I won't be asking him to buy anything else for me, that's for sure. We got into Sharn late in the afternoon. We had just enough time to check up on our House Kundarik account [ref: PJ-V4-18] before going our seperate ways. Professor Borramar had gotten our note, thankfully, and had not only picked up the breastplate [ref: PJ-V3-84], but had deposited our reward as well. We took the money and split it. DA was still with us, as she had never been to Sharn before. She asked where she might find decent accomodations and, naturally, I was the only one in the DC who knew of any. I spoke up before anyone could mention the Broken Anvil. DA and I bid farewell to the others and made our way over to the southeast districts. I left DA in the skyboat and paid the driver -- tipping him nicely. I gave DA and the driver the names of three places I though DA would like, then made for home. As HU and I made our way through the Court of Nine Lamps in Stavros tower, I noticed that vandals had marred the statue. I told HU to remind me to find out who the statue represented -- he was ugly even before being marred like that. The statue was ugly, not HU. I noticed the door to the office was It was dark when It happened almost a month ago. To be fair, though, I suppose this is the first time I've ever written about it. Why can't I pull my thoughts together? It was evening by the time I came home. I have no recollection of rain or wind or cloud cover of any sort, nor if there was even a sky at all. That's silly, though. Of course there was a sky. I just can't remember it. I wish I could. The tower was quiet except for the sound of splashing water. I set my chest over near the fountain. (Actually, HU reminds me, he went over there himself to set a lilly afloat in the waters). No one was about, which wasn't odd. I had been away for almost a month, and wasn't up-to-date on Sharn's social calendar. The rest of the family could have been out at a show or at a party hosted by one of the city's elite. Twiggy might have been bored enough to demand the family pick up and go out for an evening's entertainment. Jaiya would have accompanied them, to attend mother. But I'm rambling. I saw nothing out of place when I came home, with one notable exception. On the floor above me, visible through the second-floor overlook, the door to father's office was open. He only left that door open when he came out to fetch someone from the waiting room. I glanced to my left, but there were no wine glasses on the waiting room tables, nor any other signs of recent occupation. Rather than call up to father, I climbed the stairs and went around to his office. I wish I could forget what I saw there, and remember instead the rain that night, or clear skies or brisk winds. Anything else. My father's office was a little darker than normal. There was a smell in the air that I had sensed before, but it was so alien in this familiar place that I simply shut it out. Shadows played in the far corner, giving the impression of movement. I paid them no heed. My father sat in gentle repose, draped forward over his desk. His head lay on a sheaf of documents; one hand in his lap and the other curled lightly around the mithral-sheathed pen mother had bought him for his birthday last year. There was a wound, large and horrible on the top of his head, but surprisingly little blood. The next few moments were a blur. I know I went over to his side. I moved him, to see if he could somehow still be alive. HU's account of the situation and a later inventory indicated that I may have tried using a healing potion on him. He was dead, though. Though I had never seen it's like before, I knew the wound was caused by an illithid. I ran out to find the rest of my family. Mother was just down the hall in her bedroom, and Twiggy across the tower in hers. An argument earlier in the evening had sent them both sulking to their respective rooms.They were in the hall, wide-eyed with surprise and panic, when I came out of father's office. Perhaps some noise I had made had roused them. I stood there, in the doorway to father's study, eyes locked with mother's. Twiggy was yelling something; shouting questions, perhaps. My mother looked from my face down to my right hand, and shuddered in fear and horror at the blood she saw there. I brought my hand up to look at it, and realized that this was probably the first time she had seen someone else's blood on me. She ran past me before I could react. And screamed; a loud piteous noise. I came into the room with Twiggy right behind me. The window was open now, the fresh air a stark counterpoint to the scent of blood that still filled the room. A scent I had blocked out earlier. HU pulled at my jacket and pointed: on the mirror over the fireplace, scrawled in my father's blood, was the phrase, "Give me the Orb of Xoriat". Overcome, I was suddenly sick." . -- An excerpt from the Personal Journal of Artemis Heuw Cannith, Volume 6 -- "37" . -- An excerpt from the margin note "Nmbr litigators this wk" found in the Personal Journal of Artemis Heuw Cannith, Volume 6 [/QUOTE]
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