The Records of Teu'kiira
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"Raryldor warns me to guard my heart."
"Raryldor promises he will aid me."These two things he has asked me to write. He says that I should write something of what has happened to me each day. This book and the quill I now use are both gifts from him, to help me in this endeavor.
He bids me write of how he led a young quessir spellsword named Hadramir and me into the ruins south of Norwick, where the crypts are overrun with the undead. He says that he was horrified that I was caught locked behind a gate whilst he and Hadramir pressed forward to face an undead mage.
For our travels to a cavern that held deep chills, he gifted me with a white fur-trimmed cloak that I now wear and a blue-stoned amulet. His friend Ama'bael gave me a pair of boots made from the pelt of a winter wolf.
Somehow, I must repay his kindness.
The dark-haired elf sets down her quill, her eyes shifting towards the distant flickering light of the campfire. She briefly brushes her lips with a slender finger, before casting her eyes down, murmuring with a soft sigh, "Some things should not be written… some things are better left forgotten..."
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In very careful, and larger than usual lettering, the following is written:
Walter promises me that he will let me know, should he have to leave again. He will send a message if he cannot tell me himself, through Jin. I must ask Jin if I cannot find him again.
Below are several crossed out lines with several names and relations associated with them, before the following is written.
I am reminded to keep safe my notes on the elven camp. I will not place them in this journal, for fear they may be lost, as the other pages that have been torn out.
Other things I must know:
- There is a black dragon attacking the merchant ships. Beware travel by sea.
- Walter owes a debt to Ardent for saving his life.
- Jin's consort is Uniel.
- Ama'bael's consort is Therean.
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Between the pages of the journal is a freshly pressed flower.
Perhaps they are watching over me, the gods that I thought were absent and uncaring this morning. Perhaps they answer when faith waivers.
There are many things I know I shall never fully understand, but this much I do know. I am thankful that my sky-knight has returned.
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Many pages of the journal appear to have been ripped out before the following entry.
A mad woman found me in the woods today and fired an arrow at me, after demanding to know why I was wandering alone. She claimed to be a scout of Norwick, and that she knows Walter, but has not seen him for some time. This saddens me more than I can say.
Where can I find another to take his place? Who can I trust?
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I do not know his name, but neither does any other here, so I am less unsettled by it. I write of him here to serve as warning for the future, for he began as kind and concerned, waiting upon me when the others had left. Urebrion had even suggested that I stay alone with him and explore more of the ruins.
Tis fortunate that I did not, that I learned of his madness first. Perhaps tis not his madness but that of the anger of the many spirits that swirled around us in the ruins. We had stood in the blue mists, where they gather the strongest, and twas there I saw the form of a quessir, silhouetted against the side of the tree. With a slender hand, he gestured to the south, then rounded the other side of the tree. When I slipped to where he was, however, I found no trace of him.
Urebrion said it did not seem like the nature of the golden elf. He named him Sirion, but I do not recall this quessir…
Twas not long after that I saw the redness of our companion's eyes. Twas not long after that I saw him draw his blade and wet it upon Urebrion, striking and striking until he fell to the ground. Twas not long afterwards that he turned his red-washed blade to me.
I tied many ribbons around me and ran. The mists curled themselves about my fingers, about my form. I escaped with their aid.
I write to remember to not always trust those who seem kind at first, to not be alone with another until I am certain.
A description of Inick follows.