The Journeys of Helspar Entry One.
I do not know why I have taken the notion to put this quill to the sheet of paper, perhaps I sense that my days might end soon and I would have whoever finds this body not to be just another nameless corpse to loot. As I write this I find myself in the strange company of a self professed mentallist or so I am to presume. His actions are odd and I think he speaks to himself mostly. In fact I am not even sure why he journeys with me, not that I mind the company, But I don’t think I have even gotten the fellow’s name. At least when I talk it doesn’t seem so crazy. With this strange companion I am journeying to a small town named Oakhurst. It is simply on the way to my destination, The Great Fair. There rumor pulls at my curiosity and perhaps many questions I have may be answered. But I am getting ahead of myself. The reader of this record will need a little history if he is to fully follow my motives and need. No fear reader! As the great dragons say “Karpemna Diemas” I will be brief.
I am the only child of Luasa Phosorum, My father I have never seen so I cannot speculate on any half siblings or any other relatives I might have. My mother was the only one I ever knew, and her only for a short time, She died of the choleric when I was but only five winters in this world. I will place a what I know of her here to honour her memory. Pale skin, and dark hair, she worked hard in the tavern that I knew as my earliest (and I think only) home. She had a kind smile and deep gray eyes. The tavern keeper was not kind to her, that I can remember, and repaid her by turning me onto the street when she died.
The next few years of my life are just a blur of sleeping in stables, stealing food and earning the odd penny when I could. There is not much to tell about being cold and hungry all the time. I did learn a few skills then that come in handy once and a while. This came only to an end at the kindness of a stranger and the only master I would ever respect.
In retrospect I think he took me in to keep me from robbing his audience. I must have followed Mabruk’s Magic Show around for a month before the master put me to work. It would be from Mabruk that I would learn the sleight of hand tricks used in the amusement of the villagers that we would travel to and from during the summer and fall. But I could also see the real magic behind the show. The other assistants were somewhat less impressed with the old man’s skill. In the beginning I mostly cleaned up after everyone and help pack and unpack the portable stage for every show. The winter would be spent readying for the next season, repairing the marionettes, making the fireworks, scribing leaflets to advertise the shows. I never realised until later how much the old man must of been able to earn from the shows, But I think he would have done it silver or no silver. It was the children he did the shows for. His apprentices did not share his views however. Needrin was there to learn magic, He scoffed at the old man’s “parlour tricks”. Welleger shared his views and was above the “card tricks.” Consequently they both abandoned Mabruk when his health failed, taking as much of his silver and items of use as they could. It was then that Mabruk taught me his most secret magics. Indeed most of my spells are copied out of his book. I spent a year and a half studying under Mabruk while his health continued to deteriorate. I think I was into my eighteenth year when Mabruk died. A simple stone marker lies on a hill beneath a tall pine tree. Someday I might return there.
With pretty much no coin of any type to be found in my purse, I took Mabruk’s last advice and made to journey to the Sunlands of the fabled Shadowless Noon. It was in this direction that he thought I might be able to find a place to continue my studies. I too had heard of the tales of the mighty wizards who served the rulers of those desolate lands. I worked my way to the south over a long period of time. At one time I signed on with a merchant train headed for Freeport, A formidable guard if you could believe that I could shoot fire from my finger tips. Luckily I never had to actually had to prove it in combat. Unfortunately the other cut-throats assumed that I was wealthy and I became a target for them. I can thank Welleger for beating me so many times I eventually became passable with my staff. It was enough to keep the ruffians at bay. Lesson learned: don’t pretend to be tougher than you are.
From there I earned passage aboard a ship for the southern reaches, mending sails. I perfected my sewing spell on those many days at sea. I hoped then never to travel aboard another ship again, or at least never to touch sailcloth again. Never the less the travel was relatively fast and I arrived in the great city of Ladrissar. I am not a good enough writer to describe the wonders which I saw there, so I will not waste this precious paper with my inadequate penmanship. After many months and less even more coins I convinced Asyrris Dan-Hiops adviser to the Sultan of Ladrissar to let me study under him. At first I thought that my success was too easy but Asyrris soon proved to be a less than kindly master to say the least. I am told of amazing sights in the Palace of the Sultan and I still believe them. Occasionally I would catch a glimpse of the halls so ingeniously created to catch all the rays of the sun to light their beautifully mosaic surfaces, or the fountains of wonder in the courtyards as I hurriedly passed through on errands for my new master. But for the most part I spent days tending to Asyrris’s grand study chambers, doubling duty as a night guard. I should not voice complaint, occasionally I was allowed to access great works in the study, And Asyrris rarely had command or scolding for me being too wrapped up in the politics of the palace. It was these political manoeuvrings that would get me in trouble later.
I’d been there for about two years when trouble occurred. I’m guessing without winter it is more difficult to mark the passing of the years and the southrons mark time differently than we do in the northlands. As you might have guessed the palace of the sultan holds many an object that calls at the hearts of greedy men. While running a message for my master one night, I saw a strange person making their way through the massive columns of the great hall. Their furtive movements betrayed their purpose in the moonlight. I hid in ambush not thinking that someone with the skill to sneak past the palace guards might be more than a match for me. As the thief ran past my position I caught him across the shins with my quarterstaff. Much to my surprise, the resulting cry of pain turned out to be that of a woman! I was stunned to say the least. Well, enough for the robberess to recover and stick me with a strange star-dart. She then continued her flight. With what I thought was but a flesh wound I gave chase only to feel my limbs grow heavy and my eyelids fall like curtains. Drugged!
The next few days were some of the most miserable of my life. Apparently justice in the city of Ladrissar is largely on the whims of the powerful. I was accused of the theft by one of Asyrris’s rivals in an effort to discredit him. Despite evidence to the contrary it was too easy to accuse a lowly servant, particularly one who was a foreigner. After about a week of “questionings” that largely consisted of floggings and casual beatings I was tossed into a cell to be forgotten. And so it seemed for an immeasurable piece of time. I wasn’t finished yet though. Later, when I was placed on a street repair crew, I engineered my escape. Suffice it to say that a bit of trickery was enough to distract the guards long enough to run for it. I later recovered my spellscroll having hidden it away as a precaution. It was my only possession now along with the strange star that poisoned me. I later learned that these are called shuriken. Using skills going back to my street urchin days I managed to clothe and feed myself. Then I thought it best to get out of Ladrissar as soon as possible. I hired on with a merchant heading to the northlands.
I have done many jobs since then, and occasionally I pick up hints on the mysterious trail of the burglar I met on that unlucky night. Most turn up to be dead ends. It has been four years or so since that night and I am now coming up on my thirtieth winter. I don’t know what I’ll do even if I catch up with that mysterious person; but it seems to give my life purpose. Perhaps I feel that they are the only person who has any link to my past anymore.
This entry must come to an end as I see that my companion has started off without me. Hopefully the road will bring at least better comrades.
