"Second Son of a Second Son" - Bleys' Journal

[Rastfar]

25 Quark, 637 M.Y.

We have found the Flar’Choo goblins, but not yet recovered the rumoured box of wands. They are cowardly vermin and seem innumerable. We have taken one captive in the hopes of eliciting more information from it. We have learned of the presence of hobgoblins at their camp. It names them of ‘the sleeping lizard’, the Scheireilanders speculate this to be synonymous with those of ‘the Blue Claw’. On the morrow we will reconnoiter to ascertain whether we can breach this goblin camp and discover more about the hobgoblin emissaries.

 

[Rastfar]

26 Quark, 637 M.Y.

This is useless. The others bicker over everything and are not vested enough in any common cause for us to accomplish our goals efficiently. Without cohesion we are as like to die out here of hunger as we are to goblins. I see now that I was wrong to believe that these King Stones would be a proving ground for our fraternity. And as much as I would like to explore these caverns at length and eradicate all the denizens therein, it is obvious that I am the minority in this. I fear that with news of these hobgoblins the Scheireilanders will become distracted and cast aside the greater good we may accomplish in the moors.

 

[Rastfar]

27 Quark, 637 M.Y.

The hobgoblins are gone, the box of wands with them. It is impossible to catch them, though some still believe it a possibility. I guess were it a threat to the Ben Heuvels it would spur the same reaction in me, and not sound near as folly.

‘Passion is ever the enemy of reason.’

We are done here.

 

[Rastfar]

28 Quark, 637 M.Y.

Today has been full of most unlikely events. The mantle of leadership has been draped upon me. I did not expect as much, though I do not shrink from it. It was clever of Telemakhos to prop me up as his nomination, knowing that there would be little argument. Though if he thinks his relation to me shall give him some favourable sway in my ear, he will prove mistaken. Laarus was most reticent to capitulate the position, an attitude which I had not entirely expected. Perhaps he thought himself a better candidate, if so he did not press the point. As a Sunfather, I am certain it would be awkward to needs follow the direction of another, indeed they are used to the deference of others, like Victoria. Again, I am sure Telemakhos laughs as it seems my appointment proves a lesson in humility, doubly so as I am the only amongst us not of noble birth. Could this be why Laarus continues to act in a manner which could jeapordize us? Does his zeal come as the result of something to prove? Or do we somehow make him balk? Perhaps the ‘visions’ are eroding his rationale, casuing him to behave ever more erratic and reckless. We are fortunate that he did not lead Timotheus and Markos into a situation that three of them could not handle. For that we have Bes to thank, not Ra. I anticipate that there will come a day when Laarus will take action, and I will be forced to take action against him. I fear for Victoria that day, and the hard choices she will make. I owe her, at least, full consideration.

‘Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.’

Hezrah again eludes us, a third time, this shall be the final. The last of her brood have fallen, except for the witch Crusta, who has cozened to Markos. It is not an arrangement that I am entirely comfortable with, but given the debate over the breeding orcs, I remain mute. I do not expect that she will be returning to civilization with us. She snores too loudly.

 

[Rastfar]

1 Keent, 637 M.Y.

We have been routed by potential threat of the full remaining goblin force and the King Stones now lay behind us. As Malcolm before me, I am sure that I will occasionally wonder what further mysteries remain uncovered in the ancient caverns therein. I do not suspect that I shall be given leave to return here any time soon, if at all. My greatest concern still remains the Tomb of Dalvan d'Amberville, and the earthly relic of Fallon. I hope that my companions are not so foolish to believe that our expeditious return to the north with vague news of a possible hobgoblin incursion sometime in the next year outweighs the potential wealth of good the reclaim of the mercy goddess's necklace would provide. Please Isis grant them the wisdom to understand my words.

 

[Rastfar]

2 Keent, 637 M.Y.

Our sojourn through this wilderness makes me think of Oliver. He always wished we could spend time after our graduation, riding the Happet Wood, hunting, adventuring. He would ramble on as children do, the gleam of excitement in his eyes. The prospect of chance encounters with elves only thrilled him more. Of course, given my present company, he long ago would have been ostracized or come to blows with most of them. I do think that Timotheus would enjoy his company though, they do seem to have a kindred spirit and humour.

I recall school days. His continuous pranks would customarily set me at odds with the headmasters. I never seemed to relish our predicaments as much as he. Most often mid-flight he would always declare, “Humor is a spontaneous, wonderful bit of an outburst that just comes, Bleys.” I would receive a blow to the arm or a fleeting slap on the back as he left me trail behind. “It's unbridled, it’s unplanned, and it's full of surprises.” His grin was a broad fixture upon his bearded chin, his laughter infectious.

I would trade Falco and Kermit both for the pleasure of his friendship now.

 

[el-remmen]

Just wanted to let you know I'm still reading. Loved that last part about Oliver.

 

[Rastfar]

4 Keent, 637 M.Y.

News of the gathered barbarian tribes has reached the village of the Ray-Ree. A few of their warrior women have returned, telling tales of their accomplishments. The city of Majenta, province of the Kingdom of the Red God, has been sacked. The remaining tribesmen have set to building boats to continue their swath of destruction further southward and west. Despite their tenacity, upon reaching the mainland or any organized force, I am certain that the barbarian hordes will be slaughtered, if rumours of the ability to summon ‘black angels of death’ are to be believed.

Unfortunately, as a result this means that the disputed territories will become a region rife with instability. The would-be allies Thricia never recognized as her border guards will no longer patrol the divide, or buffer the civilization proper from marauding bands of humanoids or monsters. The Bordershires will be hard-pressed and Kermit’s smirk will soon turn to grimace. An organized force allowed access to the southern shores of the Captured Sea will have unopposed access to Lilly City, home of the Margrave. Only House Roose and the wood elves would impede westerly progress, but a properly motivated unit would not be stalled long. Should orcs and bullywugs, or even lizardfolk, surrounding the Captured Sea find common cause, Thricia may indeed find herself threatened. Who would benefit as result of this scenario? Who would wield the power to harness these myriad groups? And how does this ‘savage tide’ apply? Will the Kingdom of the Red God retaliate upon Thricia thinking the barbarian tribes somehow our pawns? Should popular sentiment in the Royal courts prove favourable to Hermanland and our naval fleet drawn into the easterly conflict, not only will the Wizard’s Sea be free to the exploitation of pirates, but most certainly no vessels will be assigned to protect the inland.

Perhaps my divinations are grim, but in knowledge there is power. It is my evaluation that this news must reach the proper ears quickly, it is unquestionably more dire than any rumours involving hobgoblins in Scheireiland.

‘The larger the island of knowledge, the longer the shoreline of wonder.’

 

[Rastfar]

6 Keent, 637 M.Y.

Pillars. The Pillars. We hear words but do not see them. Could there be some alternate spelling or pronunciation? Pylars? What is one from Pyla referred to as? Are not the sons of Briareus from Pyla? Perhaps Laarus’ vision refers to us? Do we somehow come to name ourselves – Pillars - or use the word therein?

Again with these visions, or what Laarus is fully convinced are premonitions. The fact that a Sunfather views the future that is yet come to pass disturbs me more than I would admit to the others. The knowledge that they are not derivative of his patron, King of the Gods, I find highly troublesome. What concerns me most is that no one else amongst us seems to care or even believe the subject warrants any investigation. Laarus is guarded and will only divulge very little, he is reticent to confer from whence these omens flow. So, he willingly ties my hands in any attempt to aid him. For without the full light of knowledge of what I am to understand, I can only remain in maddening darkness. This much I do know, should the time come, I will never read a letter and speak aloud the words, “More bad news. Oroleniel has been imprisoned. They say he did it because he is one of the Pillars.” Laarus’ visions are not to be trusted and neither is any direct action taken by him as a result of them.

‘Guard against the prestige of great names. See that your judgments are your own. Do not shrink from disagreement. No trusting without testing.’

 

[Rastfar]

6 Keent, 637 M.Y.


The day has been long, but full of excitement unlike any I’ve felt a passion for yet. This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for, longing for, the kind of mission I’ve been uniquely suited to undertake since the completion of my schooling. The adventuring curriculum was designed to tailor our skills for just such as these purposes. And it is my belief, as I always held at school, that my martial background will only help to further serve our needs.

As the day began I was able to ascertain the derivation of Falco’s behaviour at the mounds of the Ray-Ree. Telemakhos’ apprehension was well founded, for our guide does wield the wary way of witchcraft. I must be sure to ask him to keep an eye on Falco, for should he and Crusta be found speaking privately at all I will be most suspicious and must know of it.

We’ve crossed the Ickle Trik, south of Moorwall, to avoid the rumours of the ‘devoured town’ given us by Brother Cineas. After many hours through insect infested swamp muck, we found what we sought. The masks that did indeed direct us to the pointed tower. They are runic in nature, reminiscent of the symbols used in script by the ancients, as Laarus has informed us. The tower itself is hexagonal, a tall black obelisk, inscribed on each side with runes, more of the same. Each facet seems to be a riddle, or a clue, that leads to Dalvan d’Amberville’s tomb. Whether these are the doing of Dalvan Meir or his sycophants is unknown, but I must assume the former as his legacy in death is nothing if not arrogant.

They read –

Those crossing deeps to gain the ground. May fall as biting fear is found.​

One’s days can ne’er be forged anew, But magic may give great their due.​

The immortal clock will never chime, for he who fears a simple climb.​

The gold you give pays well in kind. Give well when asked and safety find.​

Desire for gold may secrets show, But giving stills the fatal blow.​

The immortal clock will never chime, for he who fears a simple climb.​

The messages bear no discernible order. I have only listed them as we have discovered them. My early assumptions lead me to believe that each of these riddles shall prove the clue to solving some test or trial. The tower itself bears a lens in the crowning pyramid, indeed pointing us toward the tomb we seek.

We have gained ground on the edge of a crescent cliff-ringed lake within whose center stands a single isle bearing a large sacrificial bowl and a long lost idol. What is the more exciting is the single ominous door recessed deep in the stone directly across, behind there lie the secrets we seek.

If my theory proves correct, we have already tackled our first challenge –

The immortal clock will never chime, for he who fears a simple climb.​

And tomorrow we shall test our second –

The gold you give pays well in kind. Give well when asked and safety find.​