3. Writings of an Aged Druid

Writings of an Aged Druid


  • ~Made from sheets of scarcely better than average paper protected between two loosely clasped sheets of bark polished to a lumpy smoothness, this tome is engraved simply with the common title "Memoirs of Lornallis, son of Borneaur." Spread throughout the tome's written pages are a range of observations of the weather, random local rumors of the moment, sometimes-wrong medical diagrams, sketches of various unusual plants and animals and - more than any other content - pages and pages of the man's feelings about daily events, so matter how mundane they might seem to a casual observer. Because of their exceptional nature, some of these entries naturally tend to stick out to the mind's eye more-so than others.~

    ~.~ Entry 0: A Mesage Written Upon the Inside of the Binding ~.~

    Before I try to put my thoughts to pen for the posterity of whoever might come later, I suppose I should warn that this tome does not, and likely shall never contain my full series of recorded feelings for experiences past. That journal shall unfortunately remain firmly with my more settled life of old. Hopefully I shall never have call to regret my oversight that day.

    Rather than tarry a moment further on a thought so idle, I shall endeavor to record from this point forth into the tome the often astounding series of turns my life has gone through since my arrival to a realm build upon the ruins of a great yet terrible empire nearly forgotten to the mists of time - a land known as Narfell.


  • ~.~ Entry 19 ~.~

    Though the memory of what has happened tears at my heart even now, I know I must hold on to write of what has happened, lest the event's occurence be abandoned to obscurity.

    Today was the first time I had ever before witnessed an assault upon this village by the poorly organized masses of the orc. Attempting to weaken our defence to the breaking point through the simplistic tactics of throwing disorganized masses of bodies and catapult stone upon the village, they would have utterly failed in their strategum of the day, were it not for one important error of our own making.

    When a division of our own left to silence the catapult's continued bombardment, they had failed to close the gates leading to the windy plains, as they had not wanted to be locked out from the beseiged city, and expected the not immediately present and unwarned guardsmen to close the entry in their stead. While the average orc may be called simple creatures of instinct by most men living, no one could honestly deny that they can prove a beastial cunning when treated lightly. One such orc, an unnervingly strong swordsman that was given the accurate title of destroyer, swiftly invaded the village through the obvious weakness and was able to fell two of the defending fighters before it was removed from this life.

    Since no one could agree on who was responsible for this gross tactical blunder, I will express the following feeling instead of dwell upon the horrible matter any further. Should I ever find that gate unbarred and unguarded again, I shall try to close and bar it myself. As it is, I am thankful the orcs weren't able to take full advantage of that serious oversight, as they likely could have endangered the town's existence with a larger trained force.

    ~.~ Entry 20 ~.~

    Today I joined an extended party led by the supposedly infamous Peltarch merchant Nico Black and the Legions's own General Grag as they journeyed into a cavern leading to the Underdark in search of ores needed by the local blacksmiths for their trade. Though we had little fortune in that respect, the adventure could just as soon be called a success anyway since everyone managed to survive the harsh perils laid on our path.

    Before we even could attempt the threat posed by the deep cavern itself a division of the Eastlander bandits patroling the deep highlands set off an ambush in an attempt to end the lives of the expedition's leaders, such have they come to hate the general and dark merchant. Aside for some wounds garnered through our half of the fight, the final coutcome may as well been chiseled in stone. From the very beginning of the fighting, the strongest warriors in the expedition began a sweep through the highlands of the pass. The death screams of those that stood their ground in face of that team's mastery of the arts of war was unmistakable.

    After taking a short time to regroup and treat the worst injuries among our party (a distinction that one hostile archer had deemed should include myself), the expedition moved on without fanfare into the cavern itself. There we found naught but a continous gauntlet of strange fishmen and foul smelling two headed giants that weilded crude clubs with sometimes surprising precision as we fought our way both deeper in and out of that wretched scar upon the land.

    ~.~ Entry 21 ~.~

    Today I was informed that the circle would consider me for apprenticeship among their numbers. I am proud they would consider me for such an opportunity, and will try my best not to disappoint any expectations they might hold in their forthcoming meeting.

    ((Coming next time: Weak individually, but a danger in numbers, goblins can prove quite the force against the unwary, as Lornallis was recently reminded to his dismay. See yew laterz. 😛 ))


  • ~.~ Entry 16 ~.~

    In the fields east of Jiyyd I saw frost giants for the first time in my life today. The melee their arrival had sparked was both frantic and brutal as they weilded their oversized greataxes as easily as any ordinary man could handle a simple hatchet. More then proving their worthines for the legends ascribed to their sheer might, the small party had managed to fell at least two of the town's defenders before the last among their own party had departed for Kelemvor's domain. Though such physical prowess is even now beyond my utter comprehension, such as it is beyond even the hardiest warrior remotely my size I know of, I shall try to keep the dire peril even a glancing strike from their blades could readily cause to a man in my condition. Though I may be willing to die for the cause, should the need arise, I refuse to simply throw my life away if I can help it.

    ~.~ Entry 17 ~.~

    The swamps bordering Jiyyd – having looked upon the fetid waters and stale air of this grove, I doubt that I shall wish to visit again without due cause. To be truthful, it is not the fascinating surroundings with make we weary of this location. Rather, my concern lies with the vast swarms of stirges eager to drink every last drop of my life's blood and wisps no less eager to attack me simply for living.

    I had made my visit to this land alongside two fellow druids as we checked upon the state of the swamp. So far as I am concerned, the marsh would be safe from indelible tampering for a long time to come. I could not easily envision someone versed in the realities of combat foolish enough to desire taking and hold this land from its present native inhabitants without very good cause. No, a far more probably danger to the swamplands would be if someone tried to divert the water sustaining those damp soils.

    ~.~ Entry 18 ~.~

    Lately I had learned from the good mage Genzir that the hidden town of Oscura has made a dark trade of buying and selling enslaved faeries. The thought of such intelligent and relatively innocent lives being abused for the greed of others leaves me only wishing to write this – should I ever find the opportunity to release those poor spirits from their unwarranted imprisonment, I will do all within my power to make it a reality. Naturally those monsters responsible for managing the trade will also have to be located and disuaded from continuing the work before the matter has truly been settled.

    I feel disappointed to know that there are people would be so eager to sell away the lives of others for coin, even if much of the sordid side to reality has long since ceased to surprise me like it once had.


  • ~.~ Entry 13 ~.~

    Finally, I had been longing for a disertion to my present life beyond killing other life. I owe the dwarf Maythor no small thanks for his part in introducing me to one of the local farming families. After speaking to the wife of that family - who insisted I call her Santry - for a time, hearing her concerns with the lasting damage one of the dark god Talos' servants had caused, I had decided to offer to stay with them for a time and help tend to some of their menial labors, so that they might sooner undo the damage that had been wrought. Not surprisingly, she had gratefully accepted the offer of aid, if only to a minor extent. I shall not mind, as even the smallest assistance can amount to a great deal in time. And I will still have more than a few of my own concerns to attend to in the coming months, I am sure.

    With the coming of the new day, I began my task of cleaning the waste out from the local barn's stalls and packing it in a old sack of later reuse in the fields. My only concern with this mostly menial task was that one of the stalls held a rather strong-willed bull ox named Eduardo by the family. If he did not take well to my presence, I would be unable to tend to his stall at the very least. In the worst case I could have been gored. Fortunately neither happened today as I managed to keep him in calm spirits. Since I have cleaned out his stall without incident, I believe that I shall put down this quill to get a bath post-haste. There is a faint smell clinging to my clothing that I would not care to think of.

    ~.~ Entry 14 ~.~

    I am not sure if I should find this evening's most notable event terribly funny, or horribly revolting. At it deserves both, I believe I shall think of it as such. In recent days at least one pair of full blooded orc brothers known as Igor have been visiting this town and plaguing it with their stupidity until the militia and Legion had decided that enough was enough and ran them out of town with the threat of arrest.

    Unsatisfied with their state, the brothers came back under a guise that could only have been crafted by true orcish 'guile.' They had attempted to sneak through town dressed like women to buy a powder keg. Unfortunately for the senses of everyone involved, the guise had consisted of only a pair of bustiers obviously designed for more petite women - and they had not even bothered to shower that Gods-awful smell from their bodies. While I was happy to see them chased back out of the gates by an angry detachment of Legion soldiers, I would have been happier if the pair had accidently fell into the deprived hands of their kin as they made their escape. Unlike the rest of us, I could see the orcs falling for their poor disguise.

    ~.~ Entry 15 ~.~

    Were that life not so easily snuffed out in its prime. Earlier today Wolf, Silinia and myself met a young druid by the name of Kazite while travelling through the edges of the Rawlins. Having been robbed by a party of goblin raiders, he asked for, and received our attempt to aid. Unfortunately, the resistance we encountered was far too strong for us withstand, and we were forced to retreat as Silinia and Wolf both took several grave wounds. Kazite himself was far less fortunate, as an assassin's honed swords managed to pry the life from his body. I pray that in passing on he found peace of mind.


  • ~.~ Entry 10 ~.~

    I met a druid by the name of Elf earlier today. After working over my feelings for her disquieting personality, I believe that I shall try to avoid her. The habits she had personally admitted to simply were too noxious for me to consider thinking of for any longer than I have to.

    Some more interesting news for the day is that I finally had a chance to visit the city of Peltarch. While the stonework of this disturbingly massive place can be awe inspiring, most of my attention this time was focused upon the almost utter lack of flora behind those cold, man-made walls. How so many people can put up with a life lacking so many of the signs of nature's beauty is beyond me. Maybe it is a fear of the unknown that would allow people to fall into a trap, making such a starkly artifical place to life, and an unyielding set of rules to obey at all times. While I could live with visiting that city from time to time, I know in my heart that I could never stand to live the rest of my life in a place so designed.

    ~.~ Entry 11 ~.~

    Some of the locals to Peltarch feel every bit as cold and alien as the surroundings that city offers. I had visited the square in time to soon meet the magical projection of a man calling himself the High Mage. Along with his pompus title, the blowhard possesses an identical aim; to enslave the city and everyone therein with the help of the nearby kobold bandits he had managed to assume control over. I wish the knights searching for this 'High Mage' good fortune tracking him down – rabidly agressive would-be conquerors have a way of becoming everyone's problem if left unchecked.

    ~.~ Entry 12 ~.~

    Assisting a warrior named Migosh in recovering the abandoned equipment of his allied archer Enthian, I came entirely too close to death myself as the spiders of that cavern greeted us as they likely would any meal. But my presence there was still worth the pain, as I had managed to preserve the life of Enthian when a spider bite to his throat left the archer entirely too close to Kelemvor's gates for our comfort. Hopefully by the time I agree to follow anything this risky again, additional practice will have given me a much better chance at coming out from the encounter far less scathed.


  • ~.~ Entry 7 ~.~

    Much as my heart aches to write this down, an innocent young woman was brutally murdured on this day. Leaving behind her husband and three children, the only good news behind this tragedy was that the killer himself was slain by his second intended victim, that woman managing to survive her horrid injuries long enough to be healed.

    Before long after I had become aware of the extend of the matter, I helped a rough yet good-hearted dwarf named Rolert to dispose of the murdurer's remains in the depths of the nearby forest. Anyone who would waste life so freely could never deserve the honor of formal last rites.

    ~.~ Entry 8 ~.~

    Klendil seems to be up to his long hunting again. I can't imagine how he can stand to run to and from town exchanging one set of injuries for another through his God's graces, for the way they bled made them look painful indeed. If I should have reason to suspect him of acting irresponsibly again, I will try to confront him with the questions his worrying actions are leaving me. I would not feel well as ease if he died out there, without us never knowing his fate for certain.

    ~.~ Entry 9 ~.~

    I can't help but wonder if some local druid had lost his mind before selecting pupils, for I had met the first of a band of disorderly hin using their wolf companions as mounts. Hopefully I shall not be seeing much of them in the future, if their usual behavior is to be charging through town squares, making an excessive racket for no discernable reason beyond idiocy. Fadia and Oreth were similarly uninpressed by his bothersome antics as we moved our conversation elsewhere.

    Noteworthy with our time spend by Jiyyd's pond, I witnessed a druidic wildform being enacted for the first time. Seeing someone's body quickly twist and rearrange into a completely foreign appearance like that was rather unnerving… and yet fascinating at the same time. I was told the first of such changes is rather painful for the practitioner. I can't help but wonder how painful it would really feel, should I ever learn to change my form like that.


  • ~.~ Entry 4 ~.~

    I doubt I could hope to recall everything of this time, as it all feels almost like a dream. Even with the scars of that long memory still etched upon my body and soul, it was exactly like a long dream brought upon by deep slumber…

    I do know not know when I reached that strange, desolated landscape, only that I had already been there for a while, and that I had no idea how much longer I would be staying. In many ways the nearby ruins of ancient buildings made from broken and dried-out wood and strones, surrounded by deathly still sands and massive primal carvings of someone long forgotten reminded me of the scarce few tales of the Anauroch I have heard. The only life as such I could see were the occasional dead plants and some unreachably distant signs of a foreboding civilization.

    In one uncomfortably hot corner of my travels, I believe I may have encountered a portal to realms best left alone. I could sense the malevolent interest of whatever was waiting for me on the other side of that narrow path lined by eternally burning flames, and so shied away while I still could. I doubt I would ever have been glad to meet whatever presense was looming there.

    Of the other travellers I had met in my time upon that plain of death, they were both the final clues to make my uncertainties an unpleasant reality, as they were both the remnants of people long since dead. Much as I had been, the first of the pair to grab my notice had surely fallen to a similar distraction as I had. Rather than squander his efforts travellings that realm for answers that are not there, the now skeletal being had long ago become obsessed in its former life's pursuit of tasting quality wines. Should I ever be unfortunate enough to encounter this lost soul again, I will try to dissuade it from its course, lest it become as the being I met next.

    It was a wraith that soon crossed where my wanderings had ceased as I uselessly waited for inspiration. What normally would have been exactly the sort of undead being I would try my hardest to expunge from the world of the living, I felt no call to try and hinder or avoid its presence. As I soon enough realized from both its words, and what I had unconsciously felt until that time, I wouldn't have had a call to react extremely to something akin to what I had apparently become. The relevation would have been more horrifying if I only lacked any reason to know it as the truth. By all rights, I had died back on the battlefield. If I did not find salvation where I had fallen, I would continue to lose myself - much as I had already begun - until there was as little left of me as there was of the dark, insubstancial spirit.

    Finding myself once again thanks to the aid to that unfortunate soul (may some God find pity on it yet for the good it had wrought), I immediately began to look within myself -- to the real faith and love my heart held for the Goddess that guided my hand towards a love of life. I found my answer in the chance to bring life to that dead realm called the Fugue. Whether what I felt at the time was a mere delusion or the reality of what surrounded myself, I'm certain now what I experienced at the time was nothing less than a divine miracle from Chauntea herself. Say what the followers might of other, flashier beliefs; there will never be a stronger sign to me of what is right about this land than the renewal of true life.

    Giving my all and beyond to complete that glade in the hopes that - if nothing else - someone would be able to appreciate its beauty in the wake of my passing, I finally found myself lying upon the now-brilliant ground as my senses slowly failed again.

    ~.~ Entry 5 ~.~

    Painfully waking up among the graves of other people who had since fully passed beyond their mortal coil was a disturbing experience I would never care to repeat, to say the least. Even without dying in the field, I have long since become aware of how my works are all but a race against time before the ravaged of time impress upon me to content myself with staying grounded to the interior of a town, teaching the knowledgeable arts to those who would learn before I passed on completely. The heavy wound I had been left with apparently over two days previous had time to indelibly set in as a reminder to just how frail this flesh can be.

    Whether it be by my Goddess' will, or mere chance, my state of living was found out by the local grave keeper before the weather and my exhaustion could finish the demise the hobgoblin had done a fair job in starting. Generously healed of my injuries and provided with some simple clothing – something I wish to repay some day soon beyond giving thanks to Kelemvor for seeing to his domain – I found strong reason to question if chance alone dictated the time of my reawakening as I swiftly encountered Fadia.

    Suitably rearmed after making a brief reintroduction to the druids present, I listened to the discussion of a fellow druid that I had never had the pleasure to meet and recently gone missing. Ellenor or some such, I think her name is. The majority of the Circle and an allied ranger present wasted no time in agreeing to march on the catacombs where she had supposedly been stolen away to by an unknown hin. These catacombs were laid under the very graveyard I had awoken in scant hours before. I didn't fail to miss the irony of returning into the same cold soil I had wanted to avoid for some time to come.

    Cutting our way through a horde of unwholesome abominations, both undead and what seemed to be nightmares made flesh, our party had managed to go as far as a passage into the foreboding Underdark before the swiftly rising danger of our diseased foes had compelled us to retreat. Hopefully we will find a chance to erase the lack of accomplishments from that annoying failure in due time.

    ~.~ Entry 6 ~.~

    Now that I have finally brought my writings up to the present, I have noted in taking stock of my earlier entries that they have been woefully inadequate at describing some of the more noteworthy folk I have encountered. Hopefully with this final addition for tonight I can correct that oversight. The remainder of the entry is written in Slyvan

    Fadia - The local Archdruidess of the Circle. Whether she, Wolf or Oreth possess the greatest talents in Druidism is unknown to me, and likely irrelevant. She has been serving in this land longer than any other known druid yet living here, and it is for that her opinion is respected beyond the others. Still looking comely and to hold several centuries yet to her life, the doubtless many past years her elven blood has afforded her can almost be felt by the sheer weight of experience in her eyes.

    Wolf - Experienced and more than capable in his efforts, Wolf's most noteworthy habit is his tendency to sleep, or at least pretend to very well, when he is not actively participating in whatever is going on around him. Though his preferences have annoyed some people, I can't find myself faulting the man when he has already made good use of his life so far. Now that I have thought about him some more, I wonder if he simply fails to see much capable of holding his interest. Were it not for some of my own hobbies, I likely would have completely tired of the world as I knew it long ago.

    Oreth - I have scarcely spoken with this elf yet, though he seems a friendly enough sort once he gets to know you. He and Fadia both seem fairly close emotionally. If their relationship is something beyond a long standing friendship, I wouldn't dare to try and guess without first coming to know them both more fully.

    Moriato - Among the druids I know anything about worthy enough to make note of, Moriato seems to be as a buffer in talent and understanding between the newcomers to the Circle and the standing veterans. I'm sure that if I should have any real problems in the coming days, some of his practical advice could prove to make the difference in me surviving long enough to at least make some worthy difference in this land.

    Klendil - This young elven druid is confident, I'd give him that. In fact, I'm rather sure he's a little too confident, as he seems to relish in hunting out the nearby hobgoblins and orcs at every chance he can. Since every chance means he is frequently traveling out there alone, odds are more than likely it will one day get him killed if he can not be persuaded to break that habit. I believe I shall try to speak to one of the more respected druids on this matter, and pray that I am mistaken about the reason for his behavior – which is almost as queer as that awful haircut he wears.

    Silinia - A little more experienced and sensible than Klendil seems to be, the only thing I could think to note about her is that she might be a little over-eager to fight on the front with the most experienced combatants, even when the enemy is truly beyond her skill. Hopefully such won't get her hurt, as she seems to be a fairly nice young lady overall.

    Bow - I have had precious little time to understand this quirky and apparently intentionally mysterious individual. Aside for his peculiar habit about joking on the many unofficial names he has been given in the past, the only thing I could of yet write for certain about this elven ranger of the Narfellan Wolves is that he is extremely talented in his craft. I find myself little doubting the vague hints he had given on just how implacable a foe he could be if angered. I am certain trying to befriend him could become immensely important if I am to continue to survive the perils of traveling the raider infested lands beyond the town walls.


  • ~.~ Entry 1 ~.~

    By Chauntea's Grace, my writing hand is going to have a lot of work ahead if I am to write everything I have experienced so far. Now I need only to think back to the beginning, and hopefully my main will be able to swiftly bring back the events as they had happened…

    My first worthy memory of the town I had happened to visit first in my journey to the land of the Nars - a scenic hamlet known by the locals as Jiyyd - was of a curious habit by the local adventuring populace to sit around the outdoor town square just the morning after I had arrived (and had been treated to the most wonderful blackberry muffin crumbles at the inn for breakfast -- I really need to try and learn that recipe and note it in this journal someday). I would have thought little about such an odd preferance, but the air admittedly was fairly gusty and cold that early morning. Thankfully the warm travelling clothing I was dressed in allowed me to endure the minor nuisance with scarcely a further worry. At least I'm certainly far better off that that odd local man who seems to enjoy loitering outdoors in only a pair of cloth shorts and shoes.

    Slowly making my introductions to most of the people sitting at the square that day, two events stood out in particular to me. The first event to pass was my introduction to a young but highly talented bard named Lilly. Over the course of our conversation I had admitted to her my love of music, and she had soon offered to play a song, if only I would ask. Naturally, I quickly did ask such of her. Though the exact lyrics have unfortunately left my memory since then, I can still recall both the overall beat and story of the elven song she had sung, "The Tree of Dreams."

    If this tree ever did exist; and Lilly expected that it did, it would likely have been hidden deep within the reaches of the not too distant Rawlins forest. Though this tree supposedly once bore fruit capable of allowing a man to live out his wildest fantasies, if only in thought, the sin of one man murdurering his friends solely to keep the fruit to himself had forever twisted the tree. Now the only fruits the tree could produce were blackened, and induced nightmares. Hopefully if this tree yet exists, it can be restored to its former beauty.

    The second inportant event to pass was my purely chance meeting with two of the members of the local druidic circle, paving the way to me meeting the others shortly thereafter. Admittedly my identifying them so soon was strongly helped by the suspicions Wolf's chosen name brought to mind.

    ~.~ Entry 2 ~.~

    Finding myself being introduced to most of the local Circle only a scant few hours later after I had travelled with my newly met bretheren, it did not take long before I found myself propelled into their daily concerns in some small manner after the archdruid left with a cohort to weaken the stranglehold numerous groups of goblins had put upon the forest. Through that very night and well into the day after a small group of defending druids and myself were forced to fend off the agressions of several waves of raiding goblin-kin; including well-trained bugbear warriors. We were fortunate enough to have some potent allies that night – allies who I shall try never to menton in this book, lest the knowledge of their existance and rough nature prematurely fall into unfriendly hands of the sort that would try to plot their downfall.

    ~.~ Entry 3 ~.~

    Today I had assisted in two patrols through the Rawlins forest for marauding goblins with a rather brash-acting elven druid by the name of Klendil, among other local adventurers. Though these hunts had gone well enough, despite a few hitches along the way, my hazy memories of the attempted return to Jiyyd late into the night have left me certain that things had actually ended rather poorly, to say the least. Even now my body still bears the marks left by a rather powerful blow from a hobgoblin raider's axe.