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:

Errol's Journal, session #5
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The last couple days have been pleasantly peaceful for the most part. Days spent in the library doing research or practicing my drums, dining in restaurants with actual cooks, feather beds at night. Life is good again.

We found records of a Belar who has done some research on dreams. They might be of use. We are not exactly sure where they can be found, or if they will be inclined to help, but it's a lead.

Pippy has gone undercover to evade blame for the Tribble invasion. His friend Ash told Kestrel that he had probably run north, to the less civilized part of the Outer City. We set out to track him down, leaving Vernon behind to whatever it was he was doing. Our frontal approach of catching a random scamp and picking him up by the collar and shaking Pippy's whereabouts out of him failed miserably. We drew the attention of some locals who didn't seem to appreciate our obvious higher quality and eventually also the militia. Kestrel rapidly made fast friends with the guard captain and invited him out for drinks later. I think Kestrel perhaps has some personal details we have not been privy to.

He does good work though. Eventually we found Ash's friend Tip who told us a bit about the wizard that Pippy got the things from, enough to perhaps track him down. He apparently lives outside Gront, although he came here to do some research on animations in the Great Library here. Vaugner tried to follow Tip when he left but did an amusingly poor job of this. You would think a trained rogue such as he would not lose his quarry so quickly.

Oh, the best news of all! There is a new tavern in town called "The Wandering Minstrel" and it is named after me! The sign has a picture of a drum and they serve the drink that I had last time we were on the road and we get free drinks there and I played with the band they had and it was terrific. I plan to visit regularly.

We set off for Gront and ran into a gnome named Gnash. I had not seen a gnome before. They are rather unsettling, like tiny adults. He was on a quest to create a mechanical dragon but had no idea what a dragon looked like. I gave him some advice and suggested that he ignore the somewhat less useful advice of my colleagues (snapdragons and dragonflies...really) and had him talk to Malif about his crossbow.

While on the road to Gront I wrote a song! And I am writing another one.

My first song:

Who joys in the galloping destrier's gait?
  Not I!
Who's happy to ride with a pot on his pate?
  Not I!
Who loves to bear on his body the weight
Of iron apparel of mail or of plate,
And seek in a bloody encounter his fate?
  Not I!

Who yearns to thrust with the sword and the spear?
  Not I!
Or draw the goose-feathered shaft to the ear?
  Not I!
Who's filled by the clatter of battle with fear,
Preferring a peaceable flagon of beer,
But lacks the astuteness to bolt for the rear?
  Tis I!

(ooc: courtesy L. Sprague de Camp, "The Goblin Tower")

When we arrived in Gront we were discussing how best to figure out where the wizard's residence was, as it is possible that he is less clueless than we believed and actually intentionally malicious, in which case we would rather he not know we were coming. Vernon appears not to have thought much of this discussion though, as he went up to the town guard and asked where he lived. We are discussing the pros and cons of binding and gagging Vernon when we encounter new people now. His lack of respect is astounding at times for a mere stable-boy.

We found the house, but it appeared to have been hastily abandoned. The gate was ajar and nobody appears to be home. There are oddly animated things -- horse brushes and the like -- and Blink has tied up all of the garden statuary in fears that it will animate and attack us. He is an odd fellow.