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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Old One" data-source="post: 1138328" data-attributes="member: 83">Quintus's JournalGreetings All!When possible, I try to post write-ups from the players from their PC's perspective.  This entry should actually be placed BEFORE the most recent update, but I am too lazy to go back and fix it <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f61b.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":p" title="Stick out tongue    :p"  data-smilie="7"data-shortname=":p" />! Here is the latest from our resident scheming sorcerer,:Quintus's JournalSitting restlessly in a dark corridor with the damp soaking into my clothes is the time I envy my companions; Rosë’s nonchalance…Rowan’s determination…Sextus’s happy-go-lucky nature. I can hear their breathing slowing into slumber. I, however, am agitated and my mind races down a thousand trails of concern, doubt, and grief.  Where is Drusilla? Amateurishly allowing our enemy to scatter us in his lair was bad enough.  Leaving a wounded companion, the very person who sisters’ murder is arguably on our hands, to be taken prisoner was criminal.  We must get her back or fall in the effort.  Of course, while we pursue this distraction our true enemy up north works her evil unimpeded. Events in the dwarven temple elude my comprehension. Who is Volakir? What is the meaning of the mysterious tapestry tower whose soundings protected the ensorcelled dwarves while simultaneously maddening their guardian? Can we trust our new companion? What happened to Lew?  Volakir’s divine power is unquestionably strong.  But is he just a priest? Part of me thinks there is more to his story.  He called the dwarves his children.  A common label from the clergy, but considered along with his magic it strikes me as possible that we may have met Moradin’s avatar.  I may also be wrong. Moradin is said to be both good and lawful, but the way Volakir stole Lew from us seems both evil and chaotic.Rosë and Rowan each insist that Sextus’s return carried a price.  Apparently, Lew was the fee.  Lew was the type to agree to such a bargain.  But was he given a choice? As I understand the chain of events, Sextus was not yet dead when Volakir took possession of Lew.Cragen can shed no light on the situation.  His efforts so far have been sincere.  I could even say outstanding if his tale of sleeping hundreds of years is true.  The confusion must be immense.  My comrades seemed alarmed at my near hostile response to the dwarf.  I am equally amazed at their passive acceptance of his tale.  Since we entered the Shadowblade hideout we have met only treachery, most recently in the form of the deceitful guardian and Lew’s apparent abduction.  Why then should we trust Cragen?  A large part of me feels he is trustworthy.  In many ways he reminds me of Dur the dwarf-blooded, a solid friend and member of my old mining team.  In truth I almost laughed when Cragen insisted I stop calling him dwarf.  I remember those very words passing Dur’s lips one time in Braitewaite’s mine.  Dur, however, punctuated his comment by cheerfully knocking me cold. So. Do we now mourn Gandlewyn Fritinius?  My relationship with him is tense at best.  I am certain he thinks me dishonest.  I have explained to him the difference between outright lying, something I rarely do, and finessing the truth so others draw the desired conclusions. He always answers my explanations with a dubious look. For my part, I feel his idealism exceeds pragmatic boundaries. His commitment to always doing pure good will eventually box him into a corner.  In my world good comes with shades of gray attached. The divide between good and evil is much clearer in Lew’s world. I’d like to believe I live in the real world, but I would much prefer to exist in Lew’s.Next to me, I can feel my brother’s warm - thank Moradin it is warm - body.  Drifting through my mind is an image of him pitting his talents against the female Saar just prior to our arrival in Oar.  His proud eyes glowing as he saw my amazement at the extent of his gifts.  I lost a lot of coin on that contest, but gained a wealth of respect for my brother.  Shaking him, I hear the grunt he makes when pulled from a restful slumber.  “By the way, Sextus,” I whisper, “Don’t tell mother you died, it would kill her.” The grunt turns to a groan. Smiling, I try again to sleep.  It is coming on, but Abigail waits for me on the other side.  Again tonight she will torment me with her mysterious disappearance.  We must get back to Glynden!~ Old One</blockquote>

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