Add a Journal
Q & A
Welcome to The Chosen's journals. Each character is invited to keep a
journal and write down the thoughts of their characters as they wander
through Nyternia. In addition, the DM has a journal which highlights
each session. The players are:
Go to Session #: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 39 | 40 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 56 | 58 | 59 |
February the Fifth:
Mother found quite an interesting one today! She was so excited she made up an excuse to come find me once she knew lessons were over. Seems that some trader long ago had purposely set out for the Underdark with a load of some valuable, but unspecified, goods. The mage he hired for protection kept a journal of the adventure, and to conceal it, he rebound the pages with the cover of a tax reckoning from a insignificant town somewhere in the North. What could be more boring! No wonder it lay in the library untouched. Ah, but what is that admonition about judging books by their covers? The pages inside were written in Drow and by the hand of a human! The style of writing and the choice of words shows it clearly. Overall, the book has little that I have not already learned, and few new words at that, but it has a most interesting section. It seems this trader was only trading for metal, ingots of Drow-mined ore, which he succeeded in obtaining. The mage hints that he knew how to stop the ore's decomposition in sunlight, and that he intended to gain some of the material for himself. He talks about the Drow's smithing methods, though the vocabulary is indecipherable. Still, it leaves many new avenues to pursue. Maybe the trader's cache still exists? It is a trail long, long gone cold, but the metal is somewhere.
Ah, and what a perfect little 'bow a bit of that metal would make! Far better than the common sword-steel I have to use. But could I even forge it? Would old Hanbar's tools even dent the surface? Could his pathetic bellows even move enough air to heat such metal? And what would I burn to make the heat? And what would contain it? Too many problems... but what a weapon it would craft! One for myself... and one for The Rat! That would be sure to get me noticed!
February the Sixth:
Went 'round Hanbar's shop for my "lessons" this afternoon. The old man is quick to forget our deal: he teaches the crafting of crossbows, and he can sell what I make. Nothing more, nothing less. And a good deal it is for him, as well! My 'bows are now as good as his. What's more, I'll bet he couldn't copy a Drow design to save his life! Probably hasn't even seen one, the old fool. Said to me, "You speak your mind a bit too much for an apprentice, Boy!" "Apprentice!", I roared!. "I'll show you who's an apprentice!" And then, just for a laughs, I seized him by the hand and set an Arcane Mark upon his forearm, a clear "A" as dark as any tattoo. The look on his face was priceless! "Don't worry, Hanbar," I laughed, "your apprenticeship will fade in a month."
February the Seventh:
Met a thief by the name of Alana today, a girl about my age. Attractive, too, but low-born, crass, probably hasn't learned much more than her letters and enough arithmetic to make change in a tavern. She's sure to be a favorite in her neighborhood, though, what with the way she dresses... she garnered enough attention from the malcontents on the street once they knew I was on to her. Thieves do seem to have quite a respect for each other when they are working, but once the jig is up, they make no pretenses. Must have been at least three rouges watching her work, because none on the street seemed to give her any notice until I blocked her hand as it tried to open my belt pouch. Then at least three of the ruffians laughed out loud, clear as day, and one even applauded, to which I tipped my hat! She never even knew the pouch was empty except for two silver and a false glass garnet I made in Alchemy. I offered to buy her a short ale to console her, but she was in no mood to be charmed. "In your dreams!" was all she replied. She turned to go and I caught her arm. I wanted at least to know her name. "Alana" was all she said as she pulled away. I caught her looking back at me, though, as she reached one of her accomplices. They always look back, and I was already smiling in her direction, waiting for her glance.
February the Eighth:
Boring today, more lessons, more practice, tedious but necessary. But he end is in sight! Final Examinations will be here soon enough, and then, my moment of triumph: Initiate of the First Circle. The first of many Circles, to be sure.
I'm thinking I need to find Alana again. No, no, not for the obvious reason. She's most likely more trouble than she's worth in that regard. No, she's an apprentice, like me. That means she'll be wanting to get ahead, impress her superiors in the Guild. She'd look good if she put me in touch with someone higher up, if it turned out they liked my 'bows. My latest is good enough not to destroy. I can punch a hole through a fence board at twenty paces. I've even taken to carrying it about when I'm in the Outer City. Not sure what the guards at the Wall would say if I tried to bring it inside. For now, I'll leave it hidden away at Hanbar's. It's a fine weapon... not what a Drow would call "masterwork" I'm sure, but fine enough to do serious damage if used correctly... the way a decent thief could. The way a Wizard one day will!
I'll bet just seeing it will interest Alana enough to get me in touch with a buyer inside the guild. And then, I'll have a nice, tidy way to pay for my needs. A little 'bow for this thief here, one for that thief there, and each time I make one, I'll get better and better. One day, a workshop of my own, and then I'll start in on crafting Magic. And with a base established and enough money and power and knowledge, I can finally afford to venture out of this Belar prison.
I'll never understand the giant oafs... I think they've perfected the
most deadly of all attacks even though they refuse to admit it: they
kill with kindness! There's nothing you can do... if you're not
careful, you're dead before you know what happened to you. All the
life drained out of you, your will sapped to nothingness. They're just
too big, too strong, too intelligent... and too nice! I'm not asking
them to start lying and cheating and killing the innocent. But
couldn't they just once act a little.... a little more human? No. Of
course they can't. Oh, well, another day of lessons tomorrow. Soon,
though. Soon, it ends and then it all begins!