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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Oghma" data-source="post: 6819" data-attributes="member: 71">Dear Diary,I’ve just left the feast, where the dwarves and the monks are seeing who can drink the most.  I sure feel sorry for those priests tomorrow morning.  They have no idea what they are up against.Dear Diary,It looks to me like Ord and Gimil had to work hard to win last night.  While they aren’t strictly complaining, they are moving a little slowly, and have been shielding their eyes all day.We went through the entire crypt complex, searching everywhere, and found no new exits.  The cave-in looked deep at first glance, and Order and Gimil, after consulting each other and saying words like “borehole” and “roof sag”, declared that the cave-in extended for at least thirty feet, and so was unlikely to be a site for new incursions from the Underdark.We went back up and told the Abbot, who thanked us and gave us these little gem necklaces.  He said they were “undiminished stars” and that they would protect us from death magic.He also said that there were some monks that were heading out to Longspear, which is several weeks away.  He said he’d pay us to escort them there.  After a little talking, we agreed to do it.  We told the Abbott that we needed to buy supplies in Farvale, and he said that we could stay the night tonight and he’d have the priests meet us in Farvale the day after tomorrow to travel.  That ought to give us enough time to provision and sell.Dear Diary, (Waterday, Planting 12)Well, our trip to Longspear looks like it may be a *little* more interesting than we thought.  It seems that those priests are escorting one of their dead brethren to Longspear, so we’ll have a corpse in the wagon with us for almost two weeks! Yuck!  I’m not going to spend a lot of time sitting on the wagon this trip!  The priests assured us that the body won’t be rotting, but I’m sure I don’t want to be testing their promise.Their deceased companion was part of a group that got waylaid on a pilgrimage.  Some of the group pressed on to contiue the pilgrimage, while these three priests stayed back to return their slain companion’s remains.  The stay-behinds are the Brothers Bole and Ferad.  The dead guy is Valon.  They are all priests of Heironeous, god of valor, like the Order of the Risen Star here at the monastery.Ember doesn’t seem to have a problem with the body being on the wagon.  She sniffed around it a bit, but didn’t raise her hackles at all and after a few more sniffs, seemed uninterested.  Bole said they prayed over the body and Heironeous granted the body a peaceful sleep, which maybe accounts for Ember’s nonchalance.  Still, yuck!We set out for Farvale early in the morning and arrived late this afternoon.  The trip was uneventful, so I spent most of the time doing an inventory, stepping around the casket and counting the things we had gained from the crypt.Our inventory:    Gold pieces total: 669 WOW!    Silver pieces total: 278    Seven suits of orc scale mail    Seven orc great axes    Seven javelins    Masterwork club    Potion of invisibility    Two potions of Cure medium wounds    One suit chainmail, magical    One mace, magical    Divine scroll with Dispel Magic and Prayer    Quite a haul!  I was able to sell the weapons and armor for 240 gold, and sell the armor and mace for - get this - almost 3,000 gold!  After splitting everything four ways, we each had over 1,000 gold each.  We found an inn in town here that sells dwarven ale, so I have plenty of time to write while Ratt, Ord, and Gimil try them all.  I have had a nice hot bath, and have a small mug up here in our room, and I’m going to go to sleep soon.This is likely to be a long boring trip.  I’m not looking forward to spending two weeks with a bunch of stiff priests (one who is really a stiff) and ale-swilling dwarves.  I hope something interesting will happen!Dear Diary (the events of Earthday, Planting 13)Shopping day!  This morning we all went our separate ways to buy whatever we wanted.  Of course, the guys made me also do the provisioning for the trip, since I wasn’t going to buy anything “important”.  Hmph!  They are all weapon and armor crazy.I went and bought a few nice robes and tunics, including a pretty violet tunic  with gold trim.  I had to go buy some shoes to match, and found a darling pair made by a gnome cobbler named Fitzrumple.  I wound up buying three pairs of shoes at his shop!  They were really comfortable, and a bargain.Halfway through the day Gimil and Ord found me and they were a bit winded.  It seems they had found a bowyer with these incredible bows, well made and with a pull to them that, they boasted, only a dwarf could accomplish.  I nodded politely, and said, “That's nice…”Gimil and Ord looked at each other, then looked at me.Ord said, “ You ask her.”Gimil gave Ord a look and said, “I thought you were going to ask her.”I rolled my eyes and said, interrupting, “Do you think these shoes match my eyes?”By their stammered answers, both praising my eyes and the shoes, I could tell that they really wanted something.  It was up to me to ask, though, because they couldn’t decide who was going to face my wrath, I guess. *snicker* “So, how was your shopping?” I asked.“Uh, well, that’s the thing, Posy.” Ord said.  “These bows are kind of expensive.”“And..?” I prompted.“Well, we have already bought some excellent weapons, see?”  With this Ord and Gimil both showed me Gimils’ new greatsword and Ord’s new battleaxe.  I oohed and aahed over them.  They looked nice, but what did I know?“That’ll sure slice up some ogres, eh, Gimil?”  “That looks like just the thing for a priest of Clangeddin, Ord!”“Posy, can we borrow some money?”At last!  I thought I’d have to say something actually knowledgeable about their weapons.  “So that’s it?  You want to borrow money for the bows”They both nodded.“Well, let’s go see this bowyer, then,” I said.  “Come on!”I made the bowyer tell me why his bows were so special, and got him to let me try to pull one.  It was impossible.  I asked Gimil and Ord to pull their bows, and, by golly, they had to strain to pull them back.  The bowyer had an archery target (Gimil, Ord, and the bowyer called them butts.)All this time I knew I was going to help them get the bows, but it was fun to watch them squirm a bit.  They kept looking embarrassed when the bowyer had to explain something to me that was obvious to any bow user, but I learned a lot.  About bows, and about men.“Ok then, when can we pick them up?” I said.  “Can we take them now?”After a few minutes, when Ord and Gimil’s jaws had found their way back up to their faces, they were the proud owners of what were admittedly some pretty incredible bows.  Ord kept stroking his in it’s leather case.  You’d think he was an elf!When we got back to the Inn, Rattlin was in the room looking satisfied.  He showed us a small set of tools that he had picked up which he said would help him with those pesky locks.  Ord and Gimil showed him their bows, and I think Rattlin really liked them.  I wanted to show them my new clothes, but they were too engrossed in the bows, saying things like “nocking point” and “80-pound draw”.I went down to the innkeeper and he said he’d had everything I asked for loaded on to the wagon.  We were provisioned for three weeks, and the two casks of ale were also on board.  I thanked him and paid him, and asked if he could have a dinner brought up to the room, with a few pitchers of all and one of wine.We celebrated our good fortune for the rest of the night. I apologize, Dear Diary, because I went to bed without saying good night, but I was too tired and had had too much wine.  Today is Planting 14, and those were the events from yesterday.  We left this morning early, after the priests had come to our rooms, and we set out with Ratt and Gimil alternating in front, Rattlin’s falcon flying overhead, and myself sitting on one of the casks writing while Ord is driving.  I need to stretch my legs a bit, so I’ll get back to you later, Diary.Dear Diary (Freeday, Planting 14)I’ve had a lot of time to write, but really didn’t feel like worrying about the bumps and jostling that happen on the wagon today. The road out of Farvale was pretty rough, passing through the mountains.It’s been a peaceful day. Ember and I played fetch, and Bole turned out to have a lute which he played every so often. It reminded me of Brewfest celebrations, where the whole village of Treedimple would decorate the market square with autumn leaves and symbols. There’d be games, minstrels playing, and plays, and Felster would put on his Grand Illusion show.I always wondered why Felster wound up in Treedimple. Why would a human wizard be living in a town full of gnomes? I know he loved illusions, but he must have felt out of place all the time. The Rollicking Rover Inn had to put him out on the porch, since he didn’t fit into the building, but he never went to the Pufflesnuffer, the Inn that all the big people travelers used.My family knew of him and thought him a bit loony - a human sitting on the porch of a gnomish inn in a gnomish village, smoking his pipe and chatting with the locals. They thought great-great-grandma Bonicka was a bit loony, too, for falling in love with a pixie or whatever, and I always liked stories about her. When my talent began to manifest itself, they closed the doors and had a long argument, and then my mother (Bonicka’s great granddaughter) marched me off to see Felster, who began my instruction.Felster, Glittergold bless his heart, did his best with me. I remember having a lot of fun at his expense, but he never took anything personally. In that way, he was very gnomish.I miss Felster. He was pretty strict, but I think he showed me that my gift was just that, a gift. He never acted as if *I* was strange for being able to do things other gnomes couldn’t. He would get upset with I used it poorly, or used it for the wrong reasons, but that I could do it was never cause for comment. I think it is because of him I can still use my magic while orcs and goblins are charging and dwarves are swinging huge weapons about.Townspeople teased me at first, which is how I got the name Feytickle. They didn’t tease me too much after I got better at it though! I made sure that anyone who was cruel found something unusual written on his or her forehead, or his or her ale a bit too spicy. My father’s family and various other relatives muttered darkly whenever I did things beyond normal gnomish tricks at family gatherings, but my father never acted like there was anything wrong, and my mother was always proud of me. I miss my family, too. The only thing I have from home is you, Diary, so I can hold you and tell you my memories and you will remember our home, too.</blockquote>

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