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:

Blink - monk Errol - bard
Kestrel - fighter Malif - wizard
Vaugner - rogue Vernon - cleric/sorcerer

Choose a journal:   Select a session:

Malif's Journal, session #22
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Ah, the follies of youth! Our lives seem to be growing in power faster than we can learn how to deal with life itself. We had two wonderful examples laid before us these last days, one imaginary, and one all too real.

In our pseudo-dream state, we captured ourselves a mage. Errol Tasha'd him nicely (which reminds me, there must be a defense against that spell that I've overlooked... it could not exist for so long without some clever wizard creating a counter, and I must find it.) We tied the poor fellow, even manacled him with Vaugner's kit, and yet, we slipped up. We let him utter a single word, and in an instant, he was gone. Dimension Door saved his life (and impressed me so greatly, that I decided I would commit it to memory, the first of my Fourth Circle spells!) As it turned out, he was a friend of sorts, and it was a happy coincidence that we didn't spear him, but the point was driven home: I have the skill to cast Dimension Door and yet not the understanding of how to deal with it in life. Embarrassing. Shocking, really. And all these years, I thought Belar schooling was the best in the world. Turns out, the world itself is a better classroom.

Our second confrontation with our naivety came a bit later, in the real world, not the dream world. It seems that Vaugner was doing a little poking around, asking questions, brushing up on his fencing skills I assume, and he found that the mithril shirts that Kestrel and Vernon acquired in Ashanto are far, far more valuable than we thought. He proceeded to argue that the division of treasure we decided upon was therefore flawed, and that he should not owe the party money when, in fact, he got the lesser item. We argued and argued about who was at fault, and where the appraisals for the various items came from, and not one of us, oh we of tender years, ever saw the truth: the simplest, most straightforward explanation is that both shirts are stolen! They're as hot as can be!

"The leather for the sword, you say? Could you throw in a mithral shirt with that?" "Why, of course, my good man, I have just the one in mind. Just give me 'til tomorrow to... ahem... acquire it."

"Ummm.... me dwarven kin on me mudder's side, half-brudder that is, once-removed in fact, 'e wrought this here shirt with 'is own hands, he did, I sawed him." "Would 1100 gold be acceptable?" "Hand it here, boy, and don't forget to oil yer chain when the rains come!"

You'd think we were country bumpkins! Two, not one, but two mithral shirts in one location both selling for a song! What are the odds? Actually, quite reasonable if there's a thief around with perhaps hours to get rid of it all before the jig is up. All I can say is, I hope whoever lost an entire shipment of mithral chain shirts doesn't take it personally when he catches up with us. Maybe the fact that they've got my enchantments on them now will calm down the crazed dwarf who lost them in the first place. And if that fails, well, I did just master Dimension Door! Ha!