*On the Southern Tip of Barrier Isle...*

Iljian · 27-06-07, 05:08 PM

…high above the ground Iljian sat on the lighthouse tower, clutching the letter from home to keep it from taking flight in the brisk morning breeze. At this hour of the day, with the sun just risen above the horizon and the world still smelling fresh and unspoilt by the big city, there was no better place to sit and relax, to have breakfast and to prepare for the day ahead. With another sip of his chocolate milk he began to read…

Quote:

“Dear nephew,”

(It was always his uncle writing the letters from home, since his parents could not.)

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“we hope that this letter here finds you in good health and mood. Your mom and dad are fine, as am I, and we received your last letter. I will give this one to a ship captain anchoring here that says he will go to Trinsic in about a week. I hope it will reach you.”

Iljian snickered. Somehow, his uncle always wrote like he could talk directly to the recipient as soon as his quill touched the paper. No doubt the whole family and some neighbours had sat around the great table to help come up with the lines.

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“Your dad wants you to know that he caught a very pretty fish that one day and could sell it for more gold than the whole yield of two full weeks. It is probably going round in some glass container now, is what he thinks. But with the gold he says you won’t have to send some home for a while and your mum says to buy you something nice or come for a visit with it. And to bring that elf of yours as she wants to get to know her.”

Lowering the paper for a moment Iljian paused to peer through the trapdoor down into the tower. Liana still seemed asleep; the blanket rising and lowering steadily with her breathing. Which was good, as the sleep would drive the remainders of the concussion away and all the bruises from last night would not hurt either. Neither the cuts nor the bruises were too bad, but still the questions of who had done this and why burned in him. It seemed like almost every citizen these days was a criminal, each of them treacherous, violent and dishonest. And those who were not most of the time were simply annoying and loud, with no other goal than to bring others down and abuse them for their own fun. Not that it actually mattered though, these days. With her returned he could simply shrug them off, let his minder wander through their rambling and wait for the moments when they were off duty or could find an excuse to sneak off for a while. That was what mattered now, the rest was no more important and just necessary to earn gold for a living. He liked that feeling.

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“And your dad says his ship had been attacked by a kraken too, but they had managed to fend it off with hooks and planks and his old sword. Big as the ship itself he said, but old Rowin from across town says it wasn’t and just been a young one. But them hacked off an arm and your mum made soup of it to sell on the market and she says for us to stop arguing on how big it was.”

Biting his lip, Iljian snickered again silently, to not wake Liana. So they had indeed all been sitting around the table arguing while writing the letter, at least till his mum had put her foot (and most likely the remainder of the soup, according to a small stain) down to stop them from going round in circles.

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“Your dad says that they might come round the south cap by ship too one day to see the lighthouse. Your mum thinks he will need a map he understands though for that but not to tell him she said that. We heard that there was fighting going on in Trinsic and we hope that you are all right but all think you should write more often so your mum won’t worry.”

Iljian blushed slightly.

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“Nan from across the road tells you to treat your lady properly and to behave and we hope you are good and that you take care and visit soon.”

With a small sigh, Iljian leaned back against one of the pillars and stared out across the sea. Down below, the first fishers and set out in their little boats and the great tradeship anchoring in the bay just hauled the anchor in. Soon he would have to get out to take care of himself, to do his job anyway (two things he firmly believed to be utterly incompatible) and to treat his lady well, as Nan put it. For a moment he wondered vaguely what that entailed, in her mind. Rumours had it that she had gone after her husband with a swordfish and had chased him all the way into the moongate from where he never came back. Whatever –he- had done, it had obviously been wrong.

So far though, their time together had been great. Almost as if she had never been gone. But even if she was hurt by his lack in trust into her, he still felt uncertain about all the time that she had left him alone and still needed some proof that it would not happen again by her own choosing. So much had been lost in that… not only their house but some other things too. And they had changed, in this time. Both of them. It was strange, but at the same time it was like before, with picnics in nice places, shared duty, patrols and work and pretty much everything else. Not to forget the same worries, when one of them got hurt or in trouble on duty. If only…

Tilting his head to one side Iljian listened to the soft sounds from below. Again he peered down through the trapdoor, then moved to descend via the steep ladder. Breakfast time. And a letter to show…*

Liana · 27-06-07, 05:14 PM

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“A’ lye Tinu,

Lle selet’ nane utunea ten’lle ar’ he engwar ta lanna.

Utunea ascuva ar’ tuluva eska ten’ n’nir enquier; i' malda lle tulte maghe ten’ fallaner nan’ re sal’ antaya ner tuluva eska a’ mootaya ten anwa alma.

N’uma ten lye, nan tenlle selet’.

Lye a’nooti no’ lle nelde’tinu.

Ascuva eska’no.

-Nosse Tel’dwen Guldar.”

Liana mumbled in annoyance as she closed the piece of parchment back up and glanced the front of it over which held her full name and the ‘care of’ address: the Trinsic barracks. She wished she hadn’t opened it now and had thought about just tossing it onto the shelf first of all, the seal unbroken to be read later on when she was in a better mood, but then worry had overwhelmed her in case it had held something actually important; but of course it just said the usual, and working well to the effect intended- to push her firmly down the path of guilt and self loathing for her ‘selfishness’.

Placing it down on the seat beside her, she laced her fingers behind her head and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling with a slight yawn. She hadn’t slept too well for the uncomfortably aching bruises on her body but didn’t want to waste the day with a nap, not that she had much else to waste it on.

She should probably write back, she pondered with a sigh; flitting her eyes to the paper and then quickly away as guilt welled up again. But what would she say? Sorry but I have more important things to do? It was true, she thought with a slight blush but it wasn’t worth the wrath of her parents to say so.

Sinking further into the chair with a grumble she reached out with one hand and flicked the paper with her thumb and forefinger from the chair to the floor: out of sight and out of mind, or at least worth a try.

She’d only been back a couple of weeks and a lot of things had changed; she hadn’t been sure if Iljian would forgive her and she wasn’t sure if he had yet entirely but they were working on it at least, and he had welcomed her into his home; saving her from the strange odour of the barracks. She sound of the sea and its waves crashing against the rocks gave her a constant sense of panic somewhere in the knot of her stomach but it was worth the torture to be where she was now, even when the sound aided to fill her dreams with watery nightmares.

Shifting a bit in the chair, trying to get comfortable she decided to give up as it didn’t seem to want to co-operate, and got to her feet with a wince of pain. Dragging her fingers through her hair thoughtfully she glanced to the piece of parchment on the floor and swiped it up with a huff, tossing it onto the chair she had been sat on before limping towards the ladder and ascending it with some effort and pauses.

Flopping onto the small bed at the top, Liana yawned and put her hands behind her head again; her eyes trailed around the room with a soft smile as she pondered on her present and future until her eyes found the small thin book on the chest: she’d given it to Iljian what felt like years ago and she still remembered the sentences word for word, and still they brought a heat to her cheeks, even if he didn’t know most of what it said.

The words were still true, she thought to herself, frowning slightly and turning onto her side with her eyes still on the book and the paper frog that sat on it. Not that he would believe them, and why should he? She continued bitterly, wrinkling her nose at her own thoughts- she’d left him for almost a full turn of the seasons with no letters and no explanations…

Sitting up suddenly as if to stand up and fight her thoughts with her fists, Liana glared at nothing in particular for a minute before sighing and flopping back to the bed. There wasn’t much she could do about it apart from wait and hope, and try and do anything she could to prove herself again, not that she knew how to do that apart from staying, no matter the constant letters from home of which she had received two already in the space of three days.

Touching her healing lip with a sigh despite the caring orders not to, Liana yawned again and curled up on her side, shuffling a bit to try and find a position which didn’t put pressure on her fresh bruises. She would try and find some sleep, despite it being high afternoon and despite it being a waste of the day, she had a belated picnic to prepare when she woke, she pondered as her eyes drooped closed.

Iljian · 03-08-07, 01:35 AM

*…Iljian sits on the top of his tower, scribbeling the report of the day…*

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When I arrived on duty a merchant arrived at the gate and asked for tips about local inns. He claimed to be here on business and I showed him to the eastern inn and advised him to speak to Lady Kimi about his business. Later that night we asked the innkeeper for the name given for his room and learned that it was Diego d'Aragones. A while later sergeant Dawn and recruit Herenui encountered the drow Faeryl and the drow Irinia Jakrah as they squabbeled with sir d’Aragones. I did not see the beginning, yet the drow seemed to have taken offence at the merchant’s generosity and his wish to give gold to those he encountered. He earlier claimed that this was a tradition where he was from. The drow were separated from him and left afterwards, threatening Zefar repeatedly beforehand.

Later on, Zefar came running and reported of a kidnapping at the Rose. We arrived too late, but learned from Zefar and Sakura that the drow Faeryl and the other drow that could be confirmed as Irinia Jakrah had assaulted Zefar and locked him into a chest, then had forced sir d’Aragones out of the tavern and kidnapped him.

Gerek and Tessah agreed to help and we went to the known hideout of the drow. Here we found a drow and tried to make her open the doors to the house. Yet she refused and soon after the drow left the house. Faeryl claimed that nobody had been kidnapped yet Sabrae claimed that he was here and had been beheaded before our arrival. The remains were supposed to have been destroyed by fire. A fight erupted as we tried to gain access to the house and we beat three of the drow down, while one hid in the basement where the corpse was. While we tried to gain access to it she once opened the door to gloat about having killed an unarmed and harmless citizen and threw his severed head at us. The head has been given to the paladins for burial and blessing. As we could achieve no more we left before the drow could call in reinforcements.

Recruit Herenui had spent some time with the drow in town before these events and will provide a report on the occurances.

Upon our return to town we encountered two strangers trying to corner and apparently threaten Samuel. He later claimed that they were vampires and had tried to feed of him. Lord Ikus was informed and all guards are asked to keep an eye on them. The woman is very pale, has brightly white hair, wears dark leather armour and wields a kryss or chivalry book. The man wears long dark and red robes and a wide hat. His name has been reported to be “Vlad”.

Iljian · 06-08-07, 05:45 PM

*... Iljian pushed the latch open and climbed up onto the highest platform of the tower. Already, with the sun still high up at the sky the first ones arrived, silently taking position down below, standing on the beach or sitting on the steps of the lighthouse. He knew that all would arrive tonight, and the gathering was still far from complete. Still time to complete that horrible report, in any case….

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Town was quiet most of tonight, with just some minor disturbances. The Vesperians arrived to sign the treaty with his Grace and I think that the war is over now. His Grace invited all for a drink in the tavern and they showed their usual half-orc behaviour but apart from one fight that seemed to have been a duel out of time they managed to stay peaceful and the Duke sent them on their way soon before they would start to steal and break the furniture.

Several dead animals were found and collected, none of them having died in a normal way. They all looked like they have been sick or most likely poisoned, or maybe some sort of magic having been used on them. We found a dead rabbit behind the jail, a rat next to the provisioner’s shop, another one on the road to the Elven Quarter, some dead fish in the park and one more that I do not know where it was found. They all appeared spread out across several hours and in very different places, which is why we think someone does it to them. Lady Gwen took one of them with her to show the elves that know more about animals as we did not know where to find a veterinarian and did not want to upset Zefar. The others were burned and a notice was put out to warn the citizens to watch over their pets.

I paid a small reward for Gerek and Tessah out of my own wages as his Grace nay thinks it worth a reward when someone risks their life to rescue a visitor to Trinsic from murderers.

Later that night the poisoner from Magincia was back and once more dropped poisoned food on the roads. I will write a warrant later on and maybe she is responsible for the poisoned animals around town too. The poison used nay seemed too strong, but could easily kill pets or even children, which she tries to target by poisoning apples and other food that children might try if found. Stewan Seagull (who was accepted as a citizen tonight) and lady Calantha helped to search the town and make sure there was no more poisoned food about.

Rest of the night was quiet, but returning home I heard about another fisher got lost at sea and those sailing out to search only found some debris of his ship floating around not far from the docks.

Sighing deeply, Iljian looked from the report on his knees down to the gathering below. What made for a mere footnote in his report, in every way insufficiently describing what had occurred, seemed so much different down there. Picking a new paper, he wrote yet another warning.

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To all seafaring citizens of Trinsic as well as all Captains of visiting ships docked in the bay of Trinsic

In response to recent events, the docks of Trinsic are hereby closed to all civilian vessels. Several ships have been attacked and destroyed during the last days by an unknown creature of the sea. According to all evidence, the creature’s strength and size surpasses that of normal sea creatures that are usually valiantly defeated by the fishers of Trinsic.
To counter the threat, military vessels will be docked at appointed locations. All citizens that feel capable of assisting the guards in tracking down and defeating the vile monster are asked to contact the town guards for further instructions.

Every Trinsic citizen that works either at the docks or on a ship stationed in Trinsic will be granted an amount of 500 gold pieces each week until the threat is over. Those caught sailing out despite this warning instantly loose their claim on this grant. Any sailors from other towns that cannot set sail due to this crisis can apply for financial assistance with the port authorities or the Trade Minister of Trinsic.

Iljian
Guardsman

In the light of the glowing globe above him, Iljian quickly reread the reports before rolling them up and settling back down on his bench. Below, if he counted right in the near darkness, they had all arrived. Nobody was talking. Of course not. They were a quiet people, after all. His mum always used to say that the soul and heart of a fisher eventually grew as wide and as deep as the sea he sailed upon. And she was right, as far as he was concerned. Of course they could sing and drink like any other people, but in the end of the day, when the storms of emotions passed the waves died down and the great calm spread once more to cover all and everything.

Tonight would be no different. On the very tip of the beach, feet and hem of skirt already in the ice cold waves he could see the widow standing, calm and composed. Too often it happened that a storm would surprise a boat on sea and too many final farewells had been said without cause and now, now that they all knew that this would become the final, the justified farewell, all tears had already been shed. They were, indeed, a quiet people.

Nobody said a word. No fancy speeches, no telling tales of the man’s life. Preaching was better left to preachers and whoever needed reminding of who he had been had no place among them and here tonight anyway. They would let the sea speak in their stead; listen to the tales of the eternally rolling waves. Deep inside they would thank the gods of the depth that they still stood here on the beach, that fate had passed them by and that their wives once more had welcomed them home.

In silence they stood, gazing out across the sea, staring at the mythical point where the sea of water met the sea of stars. Eventually they would eat fish, for they always did, and they would drink a good strong liquor to warm their hearts, for they always did that too. They would raise their cups in a silent toast and drench them in one go. Then they would fill them again, toast once more and pour the content into the sea; last gift to the dead.

When the darkness was complete and only the bright light of the globe shone across the wave Iljian rose to add the last, the final part of the ceremony. And as he blew into the great fog-horn of the lighthouse there would come an answer from the docks and one more from the southern side of the bay. The moaning cries of horns, designed to guide the lost ones home in times of need, singing a final farewell to one of theirs…

In the depth of the night, as silent as they had gathered, the shadowy figures left. Home once more. All but one.*

Iljian · 09-08-07, 08:08 PM

*…Iljian sat on the plank of his boat; letting his feet dangle into the water. The fishing rod next to him, anchored safely against the railing, served more as an alibi than an actual occupation. In fact, there was already a pan with fish prepared, standing next to the small stove inside and waiting for Liana to return from duty. Overall it was just nice to sit about aimlessly; to sit and appear busy while just hanging after your own thoughts. And today there were a lot of thoughts.

Behind him, scattered over the planks of the deck the remains of his failed report drifted gently in the fresh breeze. After the fourth or fifth paper he had finally given up. The Duke knew all there was to know and he could decide who to tell which parts of the story. The new copies of the Guards’ Handbook lay out in the jail, with an added line to inform them of the death. And that was all there was to it, really. He could have written that he had spent hours running through the forests, draining himself, draining the upset out of him by simply running, searching what had been hinted at in the journal. Running forward in order to avoid any looks back. Not that he had found anything. The way in which she had described the way only left a narrow space among the two rivers, but none of the houses there looked like they had been meant. Or it might have been the river to the south, but he had spent at least an hour searching the jungle beyond for suitable glades… without result. And neither north nor east was a possibility, as she specifically mentioned running through the jungle. So in the end he had returned, feeling worse than before and none the wiser at all. And most likely in trouble from the Duke for having gone off alone.

Now, after a good long swim in the sea and with the determination to write a report finally gone he just sat, staring out at the sea once more. Unfair. Yes, it was unfair. Every stranger coming through the gate received the benefit of doubt and was considered well-meaning by her. Only the guards, that possibly were more worried than anybody else about the wellbeing of the town, only them she accused of pretty much everything bad that could be conceived. Racism, hatred towards this one or that one, towards those groups and them people. Of doing false accusations, of being spiteful, poisonous and whatever else. When, obviously, they were right. To let the drow roam in town freely had cost them another life, another face in the long list of those who had suffered at the hands of criminals. Iljian shuddered violently at the memory of the expression he had seen on the tormented face, the memory of the severed head hitting the ground and coming to a halt before his feet. Was it so bad to worry, to try to protect others? Was it not the own fault of the criminals when they were not given a warm welcome after what they had done? And yes, looks were important too. It just could not be that a guard sworn to the Duke openly supported some of the worst criminals or even worked for them. He had been right, even though he might have been a little less calm than usual, maybe excusable considering all that had happened that night, or maybe not. But he had been right and most of everybody else had said and felt the same.

So why did he still feel guilty?

And anyway, why did she have to go off by herself in the end? Why not just say something, explain what had happened and face the troubles altogether, like they were meant to be? Why keep everything to herself until it was too late, why not speak up before they released the creature from jail again for having no clues, why not show them the lair and all that she had discovered in there? There could not be any doubt that all of the guards would have helped, would have worked together to face the threat, no matter what differences they had had before. So why do it like this, why the useless last stand of the lone hero?

Just to make everybody feel guilty afterwards?

If so, then it had worked. At least on him. He felt horrible. And upset. No matter what he tried to do or say, it just got him in trouble. People would laugh, get upset, accuse him of being pessimistic and grumpy and then, after telling him five times a day that he wasn’t doing things right, wondered why he was still grumpy. Where was the point in it all? The world could probably do well enough without his contribution, so why keep trying. In the end, they would find someone else to laugh at and anyway, they all insisted on doing things their way anyway, no matter what you said. Maybe it was better to keep quiet and to himself again and just pass through duty with as little notice as necessary. Let those sort the troubles that were better at it.

Sunset. Once more he looked up, tearing his gaze away from the hypnotizing waves. No matter what happened, some traditions were just too precious, too good to be forgotten and neglected. The sea was quiet today, as if just for the occasion, just to ensure that it would go far enough. With quick movements he drew the plank in and cast off, setting sail eastwards with the sun on his back. Of course he could not go far from the shore to not attract the monster, but it would be enough, hopefully. From his pocket he drew a patch of cloth, once more reading the few lines inked onto it. Everything that had to be said but could not anymore, everything that he wanted to say and ask, to send along was on there. Neatly written, even more so the harder the contents had been to compose. Fumbling a little clumsily he tied the makeshift sail with his message to the mast of the little toy boat. It was a nice one. Quite big and with carved decorations, even with a small hold, now filled with cookies.

Some traditions were good, good in a way that they made you feel right in your heart. Even if they were hard to do, hard to make yourself do them. Behind him the globe of the lighthouse spread a soft light on the waves as Iljian bend over the railing to put the little boat into the water, giving his last farewell a little push to aim it for the open sea. For a while he watched it go, watched the little vessel dance on the waves before it disappeared from sight. Trinsic waited, Liana would, by now. Time to go home.

Leaving the little boat to its fate he set sail for home. Maybe it would be swallowed by the monster, too, but yes, even that would be only too fitting…

Iljian · 10-08-07, 10:39 AM

*...a note has been pinned to the lighthouse door, simply reading:

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Gone fishing.

Iljian · 28-04-08, 03:54 PM

*... lately, the note has been replaced, the new one reading:*

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Back home.

Iljian · 28-04-08, 04:29 PM

*... Iljian dumped the remainder of his armour on the floor behind the door and flopped sleepily into one of the chairs cramped into the living area of the lighthouse. After all these months of sailing, when all he would wear would be some light clothes, the new armour that Reann had sorted out for him had been heavy, hot and annoying. And purple! Iljian had liked red. Both in itself and compared to purple as an alternative even more. What had Lord British been thinking when distributing his colours for the virtues? And it rattled. Even more chainmail than before meant even more metal rings that constantly moved and chafed and made him sound like a spook from a story for children: lurching over the cobbles and dragging heavy chains and a metal ball after him. Not to mention the helmet. Whoever had decided on those? Only good that nobody seemed intend on forcing him to actually wear it.

With a hearty kick, Iljian transported the offending headwear into the corner behind the door and got up heavily from his chair. The lighthouse was already much nicer again. He had aired it out properly right after he had dropped the anchor and the stale air had gone and taken at least some of the dust out as well. Since then, he had cleaned up more, washed the clothes and rugs, had removed an angry seagull (the bird!) and its nest from the tower and done some repairs to the light. Which still shone dutifully. Whatever those gargoyles had done to it, Iljian suspected that he had not paid enough back then.

All that remained to be sorted was a heap of clothes and memories belonging to Liana. He was not really sure what to do with them. Throw them away? Keep them where they are? Keep them in some drawer? He didn’t know. Well, one should not overdo it with the cleaning anyway. A home had to retain some personal touch… even if it was just the favourite dust bunny in the corner. With a sigh, Iljian ascended the ladders to the top of the tower and flopped down. Leaning back against one of the posts and propping his feet up on the railing he began to brood over today’s report:

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I returned to duty again today. Lord Ikus and Kaelyn said it would be alright and Reann found me a new uniform in the right colours. The town was quiet and so I took the time to look around, say hello to some people and ask Stewan about what had happened in Trinsic while I was gone.

He told me the newest gossip on who had married and such and about some Elven Templars that live south of Trinsic now. I was curious about them, so we went and he showed me their so called temple. Maybe I don’t know much about Templars, but they have skeletons lying about and seem to pray to a scarecrow in a swamp and Stewan said they have torture chambers too. Don’t think they are very holy.

Lady Moiraine was in town, seemingly after a long absence as well. I tried to ask about how she was and where she had been, but she did not talk a lot and only really said that she had returned since Kalannar has ties here. Lady Alraune and Adammair stopped on their way to the tavern to say hello. Apart from that, I caught several people sneaking about but since they did not seem to pose a threat I left them be.

With a sigh of relief, Iljian dropped the pen and paper to the floor and settled back. Writing reports was one thing he had not missed on his journey. But… there were a lot of things he really had missed, even though he might not have known it. It had been good to be remembered by some people at least and even better to hear some friendly words and se some smiles as he told them about his return. Alraune and Adammair had always been friendly to him and that at least had not changed. Reann was still grumpy, that at least had not changed either. Stewan was still friendly as well, so that made some of them at least. Just Lady Moiraine had been somewhat disturbing. Instead of any friendly words he had merely gotten a scowl for not remembering that stupid word for drow… illythyri? … well, that word, in any case. And her reason for returning had been Kalannar’s ties here instead of, well, what nice things one could have said in such occasions. Wanting to see the town, wanting to see friends, those kinds of things.

Iljian sighed softly and shifted a little to be comfortable. Before him, the flaming red ball of the sun slowly dipped into the waves of the calm, quiet sea. Like a road laid out just for him the light ran from the horizon and the sea he had travelled on for so many month back here. He liked to think that it was the path that had led him back here.

Had led him…

Home.*

Iljian · 29-04-08, 11:34 AM

*.. Iljian sat on the plank of his ship, leaving his legs to dangle in the cool water as he scribbled his report fort he day:

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The town was mostly quiet today. Lady Gwen had opened the Trinsic Rose and it had a good number of visitors, even though there was a tavern brawl earlier on. From what I was told, a drow named Qilue lost her temper and lashed out with magic at a man that had upset her. Her attack was strong enough to strike him down immediately and leave some burn marks that were treated by Lady Gwen. If I recall right, the victim is called Julien, a local scoundrel and shade addict. Reann sorted the quarrel out and said she would hand in a better report later.

Later on, a strange blind man came in and claimed to be an old teacher of Kai. Stewan tried to talk to him, but the man did not make much sense and seemed a bit strange overall. Later on, we sent Kai to see him but by then the man was gone and Kai claims that he does not know any blind men anyway. Probably just someone trying to make fun of him or something.

Rest of my shift was quiet and I stayed at the gate or made rounds through town.

Checked the healing supplies and found them lacking severely, what with most of them having gone to Magincia and Moonglow in aid of the fighters there. If there are people about tonight I’ll try and find some help from citizens or guards to restock them.

Devante invited all guards and friends of Trinsic to a training session in Britain on Wednesday, but I nay know yet when it will start. Probably at 8pm Britannian Standard Time.

With a sigh. Iljian leaned over to dispose of the pen and paper on the ship. Swinging his legs back and forth slowly he thought back to what he had not mentioned in his report. Kaelyn had claimed that she was still ill and, worse, that she might not get better. And that she planned to speak to the Duke to make Dawn captain. What was disturbing though was her lack of being bothered by it. Strange illness, no real words from the healers, no emotions at being out of office, no regrets at not being captain anymore… not even the hopes of getting better. Maybe she wasn’t really all that badly? Maybe it was just some way to get out of her duties and responsibilities? He could not tell. Tomorrow he would go and see the healers to talk to them about her. Maybe they would tell him more or let him see their notes on what they had tried so far.

For a little while longer Iljian sat on the plank, simply enjoying his free time. Eventually, he got up and stripped out of his shirt, then dove head first into the water, relaxing and swimming to get ready for another day.*

Iljian · 30-04-08, 02:42 PM

*…a single sheet of paper took flight from the top of the lighthouse tower, gently drifting away in the breeze. For a moment, Iljian stirred, yet dozed off once more, never noticing the absence of his airborne report…

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Some of the boards near the door of the lighthouse had broken and I thought it best to repair them immediately before anybody would get hurt. Thus, I started duty later today. Town was quiet though and Kaelyn and Reann, who were at the gate together with some Britannian Guards and citizens, had everything under control.

The joint training session I wrote about yesterday is going to take place tomorrow, Wednesday, starting at 8.30 pm Britannian Standard Time. According to Stewan, the Guards have a new keep somewhere east of Britain, near the road, but all those that do not know where to go can meet at Stirling House at 8 pm to go together.

Reann mentioned that she is planning to see that drow, Vierna, at some point to talk to her about someone called Madelaine. Overall though, there don’t seem to be any real dangers to the town at the moment, like there had been in the past. All I was told about were some odd mushrooms and those do not sound too threatening.

Stewan and Reann talked about the upcoming market as well, discussing where it could take place. Most likely, according to them, either at the bank, near the Keg or at the Docks. It seems like they had not been hiring any entertainment yet, which would be a shame.

Rest of the night was quiet.

As the breeze died down, the sheet of paper lost height slowly, drifting down into the hands of a passing fisherman. He glared at the paper suspiciously, trying to make sense of the words and then looked up at the lighthouse tower. After having called up a few times without reply, he slipped the report in under the door and went back about his business.*

Iljian · 02-05-08, 10:14 AM

*… Iljian stood at the top of his tower, watching the noisy crowd of children dash by and back over the bridge to town. Their great prize of the day was a stick that had been drawn and twisted and wriggled around in the waterways until a thick ball of the disgusting algae had clotted and stuck to the other end. If you did it probably you could pull it out and up, having the slimy, wet blob hanging at one end of a stick. If you did it all right, you could hurl it at something and you would be left with an empty stick while the target would be left wet and stinking. Since the morning, several houses had already received a new decoration on the whitewashed walls and windows, which added considerably to the stench that clung to the city like a mongbat to an apple tree. So far, the lighthouse had been spared the carnage, but only due to a gracious tribute of cookies to the barbarian hordes.

For the sake of studies though, Iljian had twirled up his own ball and looked at it now. It was disgusting. Slimy, reeking and wobbly. What usually lived in the channels in Trinsic now decayed somewhere in the depths of that suspicious mass. And as soon as it was lifted out of the water, the mass itself began to decay as well. Just before his eyes a bubble formed at the left side of the glob and burst eventually, releasing a stench that was sickening. In itself, it was just algae, the normal kind that you found to a degree in nearly every pond and river. But now it seemed to grow at a much accelerated rate, covering and filling everything. Worst was that the water became undrinkable. No matter how often you ran it through a sieve, boiled it, mixed it under anything else… one drop of the foul fluid would turn everything, even the strongest liquor.

With a deep sigh, Iljian settled down to write the report and another public announcement.

Quote:

In the name of his Grace, Duke Irvyn Middlethorn of Trinsic,

the citizens of Trinsic are hereby warned that the water in and around of the city of Trinsic is polluted by algae and has to be considered poisonous to the highest degree. For the sake of their own wellbeing, citizens are hereby forbidden to try and use the water for any purpose. Parents are asked to ensure that their children stay clear of the waterways.

Should you believe yourself to be affected by the water see the healers immediately for free treatment.

The price of fresh water is hereby set to be no higher than the normal amount. To sell water on the black market, to steal water or to demand prices higher than usual is considered an offence punishable by law. Citizens finding themselves in dire need of fresh water are asked to report to the guards for a free supply. Trade lines will be established to import fresh water as necessary.

Furthermore, the Council of Trinsic has taken up investigations on the origins of this phenomenon. It has to be assumed that current happenings are caused by one or more individuals residing in or around Trinsic. The Duchy offers a reward of 10.000 gold pieces to those that can provide information or hints that prove helpful to the investigations.

Iljian
Guardsman

Sighing deeply he read the announcement again and again. He hated having to write them. Not only did it take him hours every time but it left that queasy feeling of having written anything wrong or stupid and making a fool out of himself. But this late there was nobody he could have woken with it, especially not with Kaelyn still being ill and rarely on duty. He would just have to hope that it was not too bad. Placing the paper aside to have it copied later, Iljian began on the second task of this night, the report:

Quote:

When I arrived on duty all was quiet. Apparently, most had gone to Skara Brae, where a tavern called the “Drunken Toad” or something had opened. None of them really had time to tell about how it was, so I cannot say if it is good there or not.

A citizen soon came to the gate and complained about a stench and dead fish floating in the waters. Lady Reann and Kai went to investigate and we found that the reports were true. All the waterways in Trinsic and around seem to be clotted by algae of the worst kind. They grow fiercely, trapping any fish in their arms until death. The water is undrinkable now. It even affects the banks of the waterways, were mushrooms grow now and turn the ground soft and mushy. One of the Britannian Guards must have stepped into it or fallen in entirely and he came to town complaining lots about the state of our paths and roads.

Alusair began investigations on the water itself, using elementals and different magical methods to try and learn how to deal with the algae. They do burn, yet being underwater and soaked for the most part it is impossible to burn it. Alusair assumes that freezing the waterways would help with the situation and cause enough of the plants to die off so that the passages could be cleaned once more. Later that night she left for Ice Dungeon to try and find out how large areas of water could be frozen, like it is in there.

Stewan arrived later and told us that the Oracle was awake, maybe because of what had been happening in Trinsic. Lady Reann decided to try and question it, while Stewan took notes for later. Lady Gwen and I went along to watch. I had never seen the Oracle talk before and it is very strange, talking almost always of leafs and roots and water and such. Probably because it is a tree itself. Lady Reann spent a long time trying to learn more, yet the answers are complicated and not easy to understand. It seems that someone or something is causing this, probably near or in Trinsic itself. Stewan will probably pass his notes around later or leave them somewhere for all to find.

Some citizens reported Orcs at the gate, yet they left again without causing trouble. The rest of the night was quiet.

With yet another sigh, Iljian dropped the pen and yawned. Maybe, he mused, he should have gone along to the Dried Frog tavern (or whatever its name was) after all. It would have been less stressful. But less interesting as well. To hear the Oracle talk had been… curious? It seemed willing to answer and share what it knows, yet it never came out in any way that made sense. Shadows on rotten leafs and such… who could tell what that really meant? He was fairly sure however that it had said that someone was doing this to Trinsic and that was the problem. No matter if they meant to or not, they were doing it and quite obviously not stopping either. Nor was it a trivial thing. In the heat of the southern towns the citizens needed masses of fresh water and drying them out was going to cause a lot of trouble. Already he could hear the cheerful chanting of some dockworkers that had taken the chances to go for ale and liquor instead of spending their hard-earned gold on water.

Something had to be done, and quickly.

Suddenly, Iljian was very, very thirsty.*

Iljian · 08-05-08, 04:46 PM

*…Iljian brooded over the heavy tome about healing and injuries. Unlike the hand-wave healers that usually caused more harm than good with their one-spell-for-all-injuries methods his abilities needed time, effort and … books. To stop someone from dying was good and important, yet it was just as important to see to them even after they stopped making puddles on the floor. And just that was where most people failed. His patient record was almost done for now though and he had checked and double-checked that he had done all that he possibly could for her:

Quote:

Patient Record: Ayia Silverwood (Sister of Kai)

Diagnosis: patient was found at West Gate with severe injuries applied by a so far unknown attacker. One arrow lodged in the chest, one in the leg. Both arrows removed and bleeding stopped by magic before patient was delivered to the healers. Boil on the head suggests injury taken while falling from the other wounds. Condition of patient is stable, yet bad. Patient is weak from severe loss of blood and affected by the head injury.

Treatment: Wounds examined and redressed where necessary. Patient was given potions to help the healing process as well as to strengthen the body. On occasion the patient was given herbs to lessen the pain somewhat.

Outlook: Patient should return to full physical health in due time, with no lasting disabilities. Mental health and consciousness however are affected to a worrying degree. The patient seems incapable of both understanding and communicating in either elven or human language. Merely few words and possibly the face of her brother are recognised. It is advisable that her brother remains close to her to help regain memories and abilities quickly. Patient should not be left unattended, be spared crowds, physical activity and other upsets until further notice.

Iljian sighed. He hated the way those reports and records had to be written, but it was something the healers seemed incredibly fond of. Which did not make the task easier. The patient this and the patient that, as if they were no more but an object to be worked upon. It was quite upsetting, overall. The woman was injured and she had better stayed wherever she had come from. Iljian did not particularly like Kai and it had not gotten much better tonight, when he had barely shown any emotion at the news and sight of his sister. The only hope would be that oddness does not run in their entire family’s blood.

With a heavy thud and a cloud of dust, Iljian let the big tome snap shut and returned to his other report:

Quote:

When I got on duty, I found the cobbles at the gate full of blood and the gate itself deserted. I checked on the healers immediately and found a young-looking elven woman with serious injuries in one of the beds. See attached report on her status.

Kai took the news of his sister remarkably well; I do not think that he cares much at all about her or anybody else in general. I informed him about her status and promised he could have a copy of her records from the healers.

While I was at the healers, Captain Dawn and Alusair and maybe others had gone to Cove to help guard the caravan with fresh water supplies coming from there. I did not hear about any troubles on the road, but they all arrived safely and with the packhorses loaded with the supplies. Lady Gwen had set up tables and an outdoor bar before the gate to give the Covians a chance to refresh themselves after the journey.

Apparently though there is trouble with one of the guardsmen, Demarian or something. I caught a woman sneaking about that claimed to have been following him. She accused him of many crimes and of not being loyal to his Grace. Just before, Alusair and Brynhild had taken a bunch of nightshade from him that he claimed he had “confiscated”. I meant to ask the Captain about this, but she was already gone and I will do so the next time that she is around.

Later on, an elven woman that had arrived with the Covians ran towards the gate, reporting that she had found a corpse just outside the city walls, next to the armoury. Alusair and I went to investigate and found the corpse of a naked and obviously robbed or looted man. He had bite marks on his neck that are most likely connected to his death. While we were still investigating the scene, a strange being crept out of the undergrowth and attacked us. It was somewhat like an undead, but different as well. A man, seemingly dead but moving and making sounds still. It attacked us immediately after we saw it and after some warnings, Alusair burned it with magic. We added some real fire to it to burn the corpse and returned to town. The rest of the night was quiet and I went off duty soon after.

*

Iljian · 09-05-08, 09:04 AM

*…the offensive species lurked in its corked flask, doing nothing much. Well. It did a lot, actually. Like reeking. For something barely larger than Iljian’s thumb the ghastly thing had managed to produce a stench that surpassed even the worst parts of some ratmen lair. He had plugged it earlier, carefully using the longest thongs that he could find in order to stay as far away from it as ever possible while dumping it into the glass. Which had proved to be a wise move, due to what he by now had read up and learned to be spores. Whenever the flask was bumped, a small cloud of them puffed up. Only for a while though. After three or four clouds, the yucky thing seemed to be out of them and nothing happened anymore. At least, producing spores and distributing them was a normal thing for mushrooms to do. In other aspects it seemed to be quite normal too. He had cut some off (again from a safe distance) and what had remained (you try doing an accurate cut with a lance) had been… well… mushroom. Meaning it didn’t seep poison, contain odd stuff or anything such. The only differences to normal mushrooms were the unbearable stench… and the growth. Which was rapid. In the hour that he had spent watching this glass he could already distinguish three new mushrooms growing around the first, apparently planted by the clouds of spores that had settled down on the ground of the flask. That explained why entire patches sprouted right out of the ground where nothing suspicious had been beforehand. And the patches seemed to be quite random; their appearance followed no pattern that Iljian could see. With a sigh, he returned to his writing:

Quote:

I arrived on duty later last night and found that the wounded elven woman had left the healers. Apparently, someone had found her wandering around in the forests outside. Lady Virelle must have found her since she returned her to the gate. I proposed that she be returned to the healers immediately and placed under observation once more, but all the clever people decided that the best place for someone that was attacked, nearly killed and that cannot spell more than one coherent word in a row was out and about, running around the town. Since there were other, more pressing issues to see to, I left it at that. Yet I will not take responsibility for any harm that comes to her.

Along with the spoiling of the waterways, a strange new threat has arisen. Some sort of undead creature, for lack of a better word. They seem to be human, yet their skin and head is covered entirely by mushrooms that seem to grow right out of them. They are ghastly and smell as badly as the patches of mushrooms that we found around the town. Some attacked the gate, coming from outside the town, while others already seemed to be inside the town walls. Stewan even believed that he had recognised one of them as the apprentice of the local blacksmith and assumed that something had turned him into this horrible being. Hildy and I searched the town properly and discovered one more patch, this one even featuring one of the giant mushrooms that Reann had told us about. We burned the patch quickly, as we did the remains of the strange undead-like beings.

During the night, several more of them attacked and we issued another warning to alert the citizens of this new danger. Unlike the undead these beings are fast, running as quickly as a normal human. While easily defeated, they move with an agility and malicious purpose that makes them quite a threat to unwary citizens and visitors. One of them chased and bit lady T’lara in the right arm. I treated her immediately, cleaned and washed the wound to keep any poisonous or infective substances out of it, then bandaged it. She seemed to be in no further danger and returned home with Stewan.

We spotted several more of the creatures before the town grew quiet and I returned home.

As an addition to the report of the day before: there seem to be two brigands in the cells that Alusair arrested. They seem to have slept a great deal since and will be dealt with as soon as they wake.

Quote:

In the name of his Grace, Duke Irvyn Middlethorn of Trinsic,

the citizens of Trinsic are hereby warned that a new threat has been spotted with increasing frequency. Apart from the patches previously spotted next to the polluted waterways, additional patches of mushrooms have been found growing in different parts of the town. In several occasions, especially large ones have been spotted that pose an additional threat to health and life. These patches can be easily recognised by their stench and the slimy outflow from the mushrooms on the ground.

Citizens are advised to keep their distance and to alert the guards should they happen to find such a patch. Do not try to remove or burn the mushrooms yourself. Do not attempt to pluck or even eat them.

Several creatures have been spotted around Trinsic that might be connected to these mushroom findings. They appear to be humans that are overgrown or otherwise affected by mushrooms. Their behaviour is similar to that of undead, meaning they are violent, dangerous and seemingly unintelligent.

Again, citizens are advised to avoid contact and report any sightings to the guards. Do not attempt to stop, capture or kill these creatures unless there is danger for health or life of yourself and others. Should the need arise then try to defeat them from a distance, preferably with fire.

Iljian
Guardsman

For a moment, Iljian merely blinked at the flask, then dropped his pen when he finally realised that something had happened. All the spores and bits of mushroom that had been fallen off the first one had turned into a gelatinous goo that now covered the floor of the flask. They had spotted the same near the barracks, where the patch of mushrooms they had disposed had created a similar area full of slime and decay. Muttering darkly, Iljian picked up the thongs again and lifted the flask carefully. He would just dump it and all its contents into the blacksmith’ forge. That would take care at least of this one.*

Iljian · 02-06-08, 01:33 PM

*… night had long since fallen when Iljian returned to his home. With clouds covering the sky it was a dark night, yet inside a lighthouse there was always that soft, ambient light flooding through all the windows that was that much of a comfort whenever he returned to it. Inside it was stuffy however and after opening the windows he climbed up onto the tower, sitting in the cool breeze. The papers in his hand flapped slightly in the wind, making a constant, unnerving reminder of their contents.

Emsay Rhalen, merchant, somewhere in his third decade. Fell of his horse during a caravan.

Yeria Tsun, banker, six and forty years. Swamp fever after a visit to Delucia.

Iljian shook his head. When had the town and its people changed that much? Ever since his return, there had been more and more mysteries and riddles and some people were strangers now rather than the friends that they had once, at least in his opinion, been.

Ightl Bleet (what a name), thirty years. Food poisoning after a banquet in Nujal’m.

It had taken Iljian some days to realise how bad it really was. To look at someone and not be sure anymore of who they really were and what their intentions might be. To think back at recent and not so recent events, wondering if everything had really been like he had thought. After all, nobody but those who had been inside the hole really knew what had taken place within and it would be so very easy to make things up, would it not be? Especially since there hadn’t been any clues left afterwards. No traces of a fight, nothing. Just the vines and dead plants and fungi. It had been him with the crystals as well, him who had spent as much time around the strange structures as he had. What if the crystals hadn’t really been sending the voices from that place but elsewhere? What if someone had known they would be there and deceived them willingly? He had been the one to summon that oracle thing as well, from what Iljian had heard. And maybe other things…

„Lady“ Essgha, whore house mother in Britain. Age unknown. Found after… stuff.

Per'dar Lren, merchant and diplomat from Magincia. Slipped and fell in the bath.

“Old Asmos”, seventh decade. Tavern owner in Skara Brae. Old age.

The list continued oh so much longer. He had been to each of those towns, digging through the old archives, where they could still be used. None had cared at the time, none wondered. None would now, he supposed. The family and relatives, if they even r