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Post subject: A traveling man
 Posted: Aug 23, 2011 - 05:00 AM
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Respectable
Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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The waning of the Dancing Moon, day 198, in the year of 436 of Elara.
Lerilin.
To Abbot Jaren, St Alban's Monastery, outside Mirith.
My Dear Abbot,
I trust that this letter will find you well. But first let me say how joyful it was so see your calm face, and the happy faces of the Brethren. Although my visit was a short one, I felt very refreshed to sit in the warm silence of the abbey shrine.
Well there are many tidings to report. As I told you on the visit, I am now dividing my time between Lerilin and Mirith. Early today I spend hours researching an old method of creating potions, and that work has paid off handsomely. I am now able to potions rather easily, and even the most complex ones seem faster. Also my time in the abbey seems to have improved my focus whilst meditating, allowing me to meditate and craft potions at the same time.
On other fronts I have been on three extensive hunts. The first was to Ice Dungeon, a dungeon in the craggy wastes of an otherwise deserted island. All manner of fearsome beasts frolicked there: dragons, dracos, gooeys galore, and spiders. I was the youngest healer, and Varto freely offered me whispered advice. I followed his lead in everything and it served me well. With the spoils I earned, and the generosity of Varto, I was able to deliver 50 Dragons scales to a cranky smith in Marali. In returned he gave me a ring he swore would offer me increased armor.
The day after I went to Aborek. I did not like this place at all: dark and dank, slippery and slimy, the whole place felt like one vast cavernous grave. The fauna and ecology of that place is fantastic though: molds and giant fungus, which must feed the broad range of monsters encountered: skeletal bone mages, gapers, dracos, spiders, giants, and zombies. Basically a real collection of the worst monsters in Oberin conveniently assembled in one dank place. I had trouble getting through doorways, the oppressive gloom made it hard to see, and everything happened so fast I felt trapped in amber, completely slow motion. I am not sure how many levels we were but I know we traversed at least four.
And I went with a small group to help clear out the local hill giants. Actually I have gone several times. The west of Mirith is dangerous. I came back alone last night, from a Hill Giant hunt, and ran into a bracken sitting right in the middle of the road. (Thankfully I have learned to wear that robe that grants magical resistance when I wonder about the countryside.)
This after noon I spend many hours refurbishing one guild hall chest and restocking that and our main chest with potions. I also had a chance to meet two new adventurers, a young druid and someone who appeared as a ghost in front of the bank. (To say I was startled is an understatement.) Once the ghost was returned to his flesh, Gilante and I took him on a small hunt at the cemetery. (Honestly, I think a battalion could live there and still there would be skeletons everywhere!)
I am preparing to visit Andris next month, for the Blue Moon Festival. I have heard so much about the games, treasures, auctions and contests there I admit a most worldly excitement! I hope to spend some time at the Abbey enroute to Andris, if this meets your approval.
Yours in Obedience,
Borti II
Cleric of Lerilin
Post Scriptum:
I have seen Octar a number of times since his lengthy retreat at the Abbey. He seems well and boyishly happy since his return to the world. We have hunted together a number of times. Thank you for receiving him so kindly. |
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Post subject: A delicate matter: a mountain out of a molehill?
Posted: Sep 05, 2011 - 06:12 AM
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Respectable
Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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Lucky Moon, day 101, in the year of 436 of Elara.
Lerilin.
To Abbot Jaren, St Alban's Monastery, outside Mirith.
Dear Abbot,
I hope I will not offend your sensibilities but I must broach several delicate matters. (I've also obtained the permission of Octar and his young cousin, Torcara, to discuss this matter with you.) I really do not know if I am making a mountain out of a molehill or not.
Octar is a fierce young warrior, and he is a member of that valiant group, the Marali Vanguard, that does their best to clear the environs around the deadly area clear. I met him soon after I moved to Lerilin, and we've had a number of adventures, heart to heart talks, and share a close friendship.
After we fought the Lich, I began to notice a change. A strange physical change in my friend. Suddenly, on his handsome face, there was a strange marring on the left side of his nose. It quickly grew into a firm wart, with a couple of rather stark and unpleasant looking hairs.
Now Octar is no dandy, he is a man of action. So of course he had no idea it was even there. A quick scrub, a hurried meal, and he is off to the rescue again. But I noticed it. I asked his cousin, Torcara, if it had always been there and she said no.
Well today at the party the strangest things happened. I saw Octar, he wished me a joyous birthday, and we chatted. But the wart had moved. Now it was on the right side of his nose. The left side of his nose was spotless. Nothing marred it except perhaps it was pinkish from too much sun.
Octar caught my glance and asked me what was amiss. "Your wart moved." His hand touched his left then right side, he nodded curtly and said "No, its right there," as he tapped the right side of his nose. I told him I would look into the matter.
Later that afternoon I spoke with his charming and shy cousin, Torcara, about the matter. She had noticed the wart but not closely enough to know what side it should be on. I confided in her my belief that the wart had "changed" sides. She seemed mystified, then astonished, and finally she grew grave. "A Magical wart?" She whispered.
"Yes. And yes, I know how this sounds. But I will take any other you wish, that wart was on the left side of his nose last week."
I shared with her my fear that it was somehow evil. That it had the potential to do him grave harm. Or maybe it was just some imp of the perverse. We discussed it from all concerned and detached angles. Could it, in fact, become something akin to a Wart of Command? Or is it merely some residual side effect for having been Lick-Slapped?
We walked to my small cabin and a note was pinned to the door.
Give up. Left to right. Right to Left.
I bridge the chasm as I see fit
Plasters shall avail thee naught
Fore yon warrior I have surely caught
Spikey spikes shall adorn me
Just in case he needs to sneeze
The Wart.
I know how this must sound. A note. From a wart. Really? And no, my dear Abbot, I did not sit twelve hours in a the sun.
I scarcely know which shocked me the worst... a note written by a purported growth, the taunting and sardonic tone, or its rather appalling rhyme scheme and meter!
Abbot I need your advice. Is this some prank? Is my friend in grave danger? Can a man be controlled by a wart if the wart was placed by a Lich? I am considering moving to Marali, to spend more time with Octar and Nial, so I might observe him closely. Can you please consult with the healing brothers, and the master of Arcana, for any information they might glean?
I remain yours in St Alban
Borti II
PS, I am late to Vespers but I just thought the matter critical! |
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Post subject:
Posted: Sep 07, 2011 - 11:10 AM
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Respectable
Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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The Full Lucky Moon, day 128, in the year of 436 of Elara.
Andris.
To Abbot Jaren, St Alban's Monastery, outside Mirith.
My Dear Abbot,
This might come as a surprise to you, but I have moved to Andris. My reasons for this are many, and I shall attempt to list them below in a clear fashion. I do admit my thoughts are a bit chaotic with exhaustion.
I guess the most compelling reason was I was so often interrupted in the work I was doing. In Lerilin I am slightly older than many of the new adventurers. Shepherding them, as opposed to going out to directly oppose the forces of darkness, was keeping me stuck in a rut. The only personal challenges I faced there involved patience, which I found myself losing in the past few days. I was constantly torn between helping our newest members or going on dangerous hunts, or tending to my other work as a cleric. Yes I was helping new players, yet I was also stagnating and not growing or developing in any meaningful way.
And I freely admit some of the need for change is the loss of my friend Varto, who had been a mentor for me. Varto summoned me to Mirith two days ago. He handed me many items, his store of gold and robes for CoF, and other things that were to help me once I came of age as a cleric (specifically a vast horde of Dragon Teeth and magical protection rings.) I feel such sadness and loss for the man who mentored me through my first dungeon hunts that, well, I needed to make some changes. He is gone now beyond Divine Intervention, or at least he told me this through a dream.
I have written to you before of my friendship with Octar and Nial, and my desire to develop into a cleric who could go on two and three man hunts in Marali, which I feel called to help keep safe. But I am such a young cleric, and I have many things to learn, that Marali is deadly to me as I stand now (and this was proven a mere two days ago!) When I saw the evils of that place, during the Lich campaign, I felt then the early hints ... that eventually I should make Marali my home to help combat such evil.
And to be honest I was also growing jealous of the achievements of my friend Chloe, a young cleric who isn't bound to a monastery. At one time we were of the same experience, but as I stayed in Lerilin, and she boldly went to Andris, her skills have become very formidable.
This past day I spent mainly in the company of Rosina and Octar. Rosina is the niece of a powerful wizard named Fuoco. I have met her once or twice at various gatherings or dangerous quests. She taught me how to face a Bracken as a cleric, how to resist their magical bolts and explosions, whilst wrestling it. We cleared Bracken after Bracken in the area surrounding Andris.
Honesty compels me to confess excitement at destroying a creature I have always feared. To stand there and batter it alone, with strength of arm and healing, was exhilarating. I would wrestle, heal myself, practice dodging bolts, then Octar would kill it off. Rosina gave me instruction, and kept me healed throughout.
Later in the afternoon, Octar, Nial, Anniqa, Chloe, Fuoco and I joined forces. We went in search of a troll, apparently a friendly one, so Fuoco could deliver vials of perfume. The rewards for this, magical robes, Fuoco generously shared and gave to Chloe and myself eight robes each. This was wonderful as I destroyed three of these special robes in my long earlier battles with Brackens. I know I will go through a lot of these in my training.
After we returned to Andris I spoke at length about being a hunting cleric with Fuoco, about situations I didn't know how to handle, positioning myself certain ways so I could reach my target, and experiences I have had in past hunts that were problematic. She shared with me stories of her niece, Rosina, and how her niece handled different types of hunts and situations.
I know another cleric will grow and take my place in Lerilin. And my cousin and oft-absent father still call Lerilin their home. I know they will remain to help our newest members.
Lastly, the rumors you spoke of in your letter to me are true. And yes, one reason, beyond spiritual and professional growth, that I move on is because of Torcara. As she has set her cap for my cousin Owen, I feel it is best to remove myself, at a distance, and allow them to blossom in whichever way they will, without having to worry about my reactions.
You may send letters to the Bank of Andris for now. I'm in negotiations to purchase a tiny cabin, or rent one, within the town walls.
I remain yours faithfully,
Borti II
Cleric of Andris |
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Post subject: Interesting times
Posted: Sep 16, 2011 - 05:57 AM
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Respectable
Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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Blue Moon, day 1, in the year of 436 of Elara.
To Abbot Jaren, St Alban's Monastery, outside Mirith.
My Dear Abbot,
I trust this letter finds you well. Well there is much to share with you but first I shall reply to your note. Yes, the wart on Octar's nose has relocated to his chin. But I have received no more notes from it. Thus far it has not responded to any curative I have applied.
Andris is truly amazing, opulent even! But I haven't been there much as I had returned briefly to Lerilin to help my friend, a young Wizard named Gwyddeon. I helped him to pack up and move to first Mirith then Andris. Beyond that I spent three long days in bed quiet ill and befuddled.
Tonight my friend and Brother-in-arms Octar and I, took young Gwyddeon on his first Andris hunt. It was a a great opportunity for him as we battled giants, bracken, snakes and sea serpents. We tried to be supportive of him, how well I recall my own fears when I first began to hunt powerful evils outside Mirith. And it was not so long ago! At any rate, I spent a day talking him into the move. Finally I told him to trust me, and basically bullied him into it. I think he was shocked at how well he did.
He preformed very well. I could tell he was nervous and once he became panicked when a giant rushed him and wanted to give him a hug. All in all, I say he reassured me, through his actions, that my faith in him was not misplaced!
When we returned to Andris, to repair and restock our potions and reagents, Octar and I met the beautiful Clarissa Morgans, an elected Senator of Andris. She told us she was happy the Festival was approaching, and that she had been baking her signature item "Morgans Gingerbread." She gave each of us a sample to taste. How magically tasty it was.
I have also found a small hidden area replete with two rooms, a large gathering area, and a vast library. I have been making inquires on renting one of the rooms. This would allow me to study in solitude, and for as much as I enjoy ridding a town of evil, I am a solitary creature, as a cleric ought to be. Well, at least a cleric of St Alban.
I also wanted you to know I have steadily gained in experience in healing, meditation, magery and how to resist spells cast at me. This has been through the kind and good graces of Fuoco, Rosina and Octar. How well they understand my calling to Marali, and they are preparing me to survive attacks and do fierce battle with the forces of darkness.
Please remember me in your prayers,
Borti II cleric of Andris |
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Post subject: Changes
Posted: Sep 17, 2011 - 04:57 PM
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Respectable
Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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Blue Moon, day 19, in the year of 436 of Elara.
To Abbot Jaren, St Alban's Monastery, outside Mirith.
My Dear Abbot,
There are many things to celebrate under the Blue Moon. But I think this would be a most excellent time to discuss gratitude as well as attempt to clarify choices I am making. You remember you taught us the monastic method of decision making, when we were first year novices. With the rush and whirl of moving, I simply have not made time to properly think everything through.
I'd like to begin this with a discussion of Gratitude. Oberin is a very dangerous place. One skinny young cleric ... well, the odds are that he would spend most of his time as a ghost without help and friends. This is true even in the sleepy fishing village of dear Lerilin. I have been blessed to find some most excellent companions, they give generously of themselves and their knowledge of Oberin.
Everyone in CoF, for certain, deserves thanks. Kind, supportive, funny and steadfast folk. People like Jedd, Jastherin, Mazin, Heike, Auerlia and Abernta!
My dear friend and fellow young cleric Terliyne. We've spent a lot of time as ghosts together, and laughing and being silly.
And with the move to Andris, I've been fortunate to spend a great deal of time with Octar, Fuoco, Rosina, Nial, Gwar, Fixx, Payton and Chloe. Considering how vast and fancy Andris is, it's a shock to find the people are as kind and generous as they are in the humble village of Lerilin.
With the shift in the seasons, as we crawl out of the summer heat into autumn, I sit at night by my rude bed and rough table, feet against the fireplace, and think about life. What do I want? Where can I best grow and contribute at the same time? How does one decided how to "stretch" into a challenge without snapping and breaking?
And what about duty? I am in Andris when duty requires stints in Lerilin. (Although my young cousin Owen, and my father, have been standing my watch for me there.) Don't I also have a duty to continue to strive to better my skills, myself, my personhood? How does one sort though conflicting draws?
When I sleep at night I continually wake to a cold sweat. I see the Lich and our final battle near the Marali cemetery. Flashes of memories: people dying, skeletons everywhere, the heroism of many. These dreams have continued for weeks. I am trying to discern if they are the nightmares that come unbidden after war, or if it is the hand of St Alban, stretching out, to summon me to Marali.
And going there would mean many things and sacrifices. I would have to leave CoF and join the Vanguard, assuming they would have me. The life of an army or militia chaplain is one of few belongings, not even your time is your own when duty calls, and it begs the question: do I have the temperament to serve in a militia?
Yet I find that life a compelling one. I feel drawn to it. I know Octar and his wonderful friends are helping me out of both generosity as well as preparing me for the conflict that is Marali. I fear to fail. They are placing me in an apprenticeship that involves rigorous training in mind, body and spirit.
With this confusion I traveled to Lerilin to speak with Owen and my ever absent father. Owen assured me that he and Borti (senior) would remain in Lerilin and CoF, and they would take the stints that duty requires to help new young adventurers and travelers. Right now Owen is more interested in mastering Woodcrafting, of making the perfect bow of war. He won't be leaving Lerilin any time soon. And my father is merely a fixture of Lerilin.
What say you, dear Abbot? Am I deluding myself or should I continue to work on improving so I might go where most needed?
I hope you can write to me soon, for I need your advice.
Your obedient son,
Borti II
Cleric of Andris |
_________________
CLERICS: can't live with them, can't live without them.
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Post subject: A brief post scriptum
Posted: Sep 18, 2011 - 08:20 AM
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Respectable
Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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Blue Moon, day 25, in the year of 436 of Elara.
To Abbot Jaren, St Alban's Monastery, outside Mirith.
My Dear Abbot,
Well it is done. Borti II is no longer in CoF. I have left a message at the MaV Guild Hall for Octar, applying for admission. I hope I have done rightly.
This morning I built a stockpile of potions, a war chest if you will, and was surprised to realize I had increased in my skills in Alchemy since the last time I worked thusly.
I sent this evening in the Pixie Cave with the wizard Leha. Several times company dropped by. A druid to tame a spider with another cleric. And another wizard joined us. During that time my ability to dodge magical attacks improved. Most exciting of all was I unlocked the secret for resurrecting the dead. The latter ability is more than a bit terrifying, but I swear I shall use this wisely.
I hope you approve of my actions.
In Obedience, your servant
Borti II of Andris. |
_________________
CLERICS: can't live with them, can't live without them.
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Post subject:
Posted: Sep 22, 2011 - 03:04 AM
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Respectable
Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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Blue Quarter Moon, day 72, in the year of 436 of Elara.
Marali.
To Abbot Jaren, St Alban's Monastery, outside Mirith.
My Dear Abbot,
This note will be short and brief, for I am worn and exhausted. But great tidings! I have run the gauntlet of the Marali Vanguard and lived to tell the tale! This is their entry requirement. it was modified for me, as a cleric somewhat, since we have such little health. My task was to run with Octar, my fighter friend. But Octar had no shield, weapon or armor! I had to ensure he lived without resorting to quaffing a potion for the duration of the test.
All the work I have done lately with Rosina, Fuoco, Octar, Gwyddeon, and other denizens of Andris has paid handsomely. At one point I was attacked by both a Bracken and Gaper, and managed to survive it!
But it was terrifying! You run from Marali gates to the MaV guildhall, then down to the putrid cesspool that is Aborek, then you make the reverse run all the way back to Marali! And you must be prepared for anything!
When Captain Fang returns, I shall be inducted into the MaV!
Now I shall go rest for I am worn out. My final thoughts are to let know know I met the young Fred The Wizard, whose journeys I have read for some time. I finally met him a few days ago and hope we can hunt together soon. He is rather an engaging fellow and I look forward to hunting with him in the future!
Be well!
Love from your Obedient Son
Borti II of Andris. |
_________________
CLERICS: can't live with them, can't live without them.
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Post subject:
Posted: Sep 24, 2011 - 01:47 PM
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Respectable
Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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The 101st Day of the Blue Moon, in the year of 436 of Elara.
To Abbot Jaren, St Alban's Monastery, Mirith.
My Dear Abbot,
We are rapidly approaching the full moon. All my life I have heard of the splendors of the Blue Moon Festival in Andris, so I eagerly look forward to this celebration of sights and sounds.
I have not yet donned the uniform of the Marali Vanguard, although I am now listed as an armsman among them. I am awaiting the return of Captain Fang, it is my understanding he is traveling far from Marali on guild or city business. I admit to being somewhat nervous, as Octar warned me that often, during the investment ceremony, many things can go awry. Both Nial and Octar died during there investment. At any rate, please keep me in your prayers. There is a rumor the event may happen to night as Captain Fang is expected back this evening.
Last night was eventful, aside from the late message I sent (about the Andris cemetery adventure.) Afterward, a group of us went to the infamous Ice Dungeon. It was my second time in there, and like the first, I died once. Also I forgot to bring these magical protections rings with me that Varto gave me, so I was rather vulnerable. Us robe wearers need every ounce of protection we can scrap together in there.
One really enjoyable thing last night was being able to share adventures with my friend Terliyne. She is the unassociated Cleric I wrote to you of before. We both wandered into Lerilin the same week. Confused and new in the wide world, we adventured together a great deal in the first month. So it was exciting to go to Ice Dungeon together, as well as battle Brackens in the cemetery!
Lastly, I stumbled upon a fragment of a poem in the Andris library. It was a poem written by a Sir Thomas Wyatt (Viat) I felt so moved by it I copy it out here.
Innocentia Veritas Viat Fides Circumdederunt me inimici mei
(Roughly: Innocence, Truth, Faith Surround my Soul)
These bloody days have broken my heart.
My lust, my youth did them depart,
And blind desire of estate.
Who hastes to climb seeks to revert.
Of truth, circa Regna tonat ("it thunders through the realms".)
(The language is apparently Latin. I have done my poor best translated and noted in parenthesis.)
When not at work I have been exploring the vast and amazing library. I shall send you other works I find here. Though honesty compels me to warn you there are few religious texts here.
Your Obedient Servant,
Borti II currently in Andris,
Armsman, MaV |
_________________
CLERICS: can't live with them, can't live without them.
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Post subject:
Posted: Oct 04, 2011 - 06:57 PM
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Respectable
Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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The waning of the Blue Moon, day 224, in the year of 436 of Elara.
Lerilin.
To Abbot Jaren, St Alban's Monastery, outside Mirith.
My Dear Abbot,
I trust you and the brethren are well. I had hoped to see some of you in Andris for the Blue Moon Festival, but understand other duties permit no vacation. Thank you for the new Brevery, it's rather splendid and mine was worn to shreds. Where ever did you find one with Gray leather and purple trim, the MaV colors?
I am worn out with both battle, gaiety and sadness. First the sadness. I had cause to wander past CA's guild hall yesterday night, on returning from a very long patrol with Nial, Anniqa, and Octar. We stumbled back toward Marali, after hours of cleansing the forest of Brackens, trolls, baby dragons, and all manner of critter (including a camp of Mercanaries!) The sign outside CA said only "Abandoned."
I confess tears of sadness sprung to my eyes. CA is forever gone. Most of its members have traveled far from the shores of Oberin. Earlier they stood at the gates of that hall and gave away all their earthly treasures. How generous they were to me and everyone that came seeking aid from them. Some of the finest people I have ever met in Oberin have left to journey elsewhere: Lenne, Varto and Dhrama. I can only pray for them and wish them well in every adventure life grants them.
I sent you a copy of the long report I had sent to Captain Fang, my commander in the Marali Vanguard, that detailed all the troubles we had in securing the 18 crates of supplies for Senator Morgans. So I shan't repeat myself. But a great weariness was on me from that strain, although I continue to do my duty with the Vanguard and patrol the Marali Woods.
Lastly, the Blue Moon Festival. I rose early and stayed up late so as not to miss any of the festivities. (In a separate letter I will detail each of the games so our brethren will know how to play them should they visit next year's festivities.)
I do confess I played the Tower game, Marali Roulette, and High/Low ever time that mysterious person, The Gambler, appeared. We never covered gambling in the abbey, so I don't know what the official position is. Yet I kept no prize for myself, giving a number of things won to others: A Centaur Mining Axe, Marali Whiskey, a Handaxe of power and one of speed, a Long Bow of Speed (which I auctioned off and donated the proceeds to the poor.)
There were on-going auctions run by guests in Andris. I sold a number of things I had won on various hunts. And I bought my father many Dwarven Hand Axes. He needs these to help supply Circle of Friends, they use a lot of logs to make rafts for new members, and arrows, wooden shields, and bows. I sent a courier to him with nine of these amazing axes for him and two for Aurelia, the guild's woodworker.
The game I enjoyed most was Towers, because although you alone must guess which tower the pixie Hazel hid in, it was a community effort. People held places in line for healers and tanks, so we could stand at the fore. Everyone helped everyone else. I saw some frightening creatures, including two Liches that chased poor Octar. There were Ice dragons, magma golems, sand dragons... things you hear whispered of but have never seen (except, of course, the Lich, which still haunts me.)
Octar gave me a powerful ring he won. I asked Fuoco, my wizard friend, what it was. She case some spell and said it was a GM Ring of Lesser Mana. I haven't dared use it yet. I shall keep it safe for a day of great need. I was amazed at his gift. Once others found out I had it many wanted to buy it. Of course I would never sell a gift, especially such a rare and precious one!
Tomorrow night I shall make a small guide on the games, so I might remember them for next year. I ask you light a candle for me, as I fear something evil comes this way. One of the senators had warned us on future problems with creatures called Venom Priests. They are said to be hidden in the inaccessible levels of the cave outside Andris. There is little information on them. I did ask CA for all the Full Detox potions they could give me, so they will be available for the plates when we battle the Venom Priests.
May St Alban keep you well,
Borti II
Chaplain of the Marali Vanguard
(Currently traveling between Marali and Andris.) |
_________________
CLERICS: can't live with them, can't live without them.
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Post subject: Uncertain
Posted: Dec 22, 2011 - 10:38 PM
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Respectable
Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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Dear Abbot,
I no longer know the date or even what moon it might be. For a long time I have been trapped deep in some cave. There is little light here. I have been scribbling notes on paper, climbing high along the inside of one cave where I can see a finger of light, and shoving the notes outside. I pray one will find you or some chance traveler, and somehow word can be gotten out to the Marali Vanguard in hopes of a rescue.
Your Son,
Borti II |
_________________
CLERICS: can't live with them, can't live without them.
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Post subject: Sadness and dismay
Posted: Jan 03, 2012 - 07:59 PM
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Respectable
Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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The waning of the Bleeding Moon, day 99, in the year of 437 of Elara.
Mirith
To Abbot Jaren, St Alban's Monastery, outside Mirith.
My Dear Abbot,
After many weeks away from the people and cities of Oberin, I managed to crawl into Andris. A day of bathing, a massage, several meals and a good night's rest had me feeling my old self. With great delight I saw my friend and kinswoman Fuoco. (Although I did not see our wayward neice Rosina. No doubt she is about tormenting the world with her wonderful humor.)
As I caught up on city and family news with Fuoco, a boy approached us warning of trolls and giants ransacking outside the city. Suffice to say I died twice in those events I recorded elsewhere. And as a followup, to check on brigands, I died again.
The end result of this is I lost many skills as a cleric. Now I need to go back to Andris woods and work on healing and resist the magic of Brackens to retrain the lost abilities. In this I hope my friend Octar will help as my wrestling is still not high enough to destroy one of these evil trees.
Oh yes, and the evil that befell MaV, that is a guild hall taken and held by brigands and mercanaries, sadly happened to the Mirith Vanguard. I had gone to Mirith to visit a friend and took the portals. It having been many weeks since I went, I turned left instead of right. And I stumbled onto the atrocity of impaled guards. I went to my knees, praying for their brave souls, then hurried to Mirith to warn the city of what had befallen their own vanguard. Luckily some were about who sent messages to others.
I am hoping you can send a cleric to the vanguard to help with the burial ceremonies, and the cleansing of the hall for the comfort and ease of that guild.
Your Obedient Son,
Borti II
Chaplin, MaV |
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CLERICS: can't live with them, can't live without them.
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Post subject:
Posted: Jan 06, 2012 - 10:24 PM
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Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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The waning of the Bleeding Moon, day 144, in the year of 437 of Elara.
Mirith/Marali
To Abbot Jaren, St Alban's Monastery, outside Mirith.
My Dear Abbot,
Well at last the Bleeding Moon is waning. I think maybe it should be renamed to the Dying Moon or, for the clever, the Crafting Bank Moon.
I had a long talk with my young friend Maggy. She was angry and she said farewell to me, Cassandra, Octar and a few others, then left the shores of Oberin forever. I will miss her and her silly Fordô Tough slogan (and watching her make Armsman Octar squirm and screaming QUACK, and her asking Octar about French Maid outfits. Good times!) I understand her reasons.
Yesterday I began a retreat, I wanted to spend time honoring the dead guardsmen of the MV and LV. I felt funeral rites were not sufficent. There is a quiet, pest-free glade not far from Mirith. I set up a small altar, candles, and proceeded to spend the day in meditation and prayer for the widows and orphans.
I had hardly settled in to meditate when the messangers began to intrude. Each more insistant than the previous. Demands I come to Andris. Demands I heal. Demands, demands, demands.
I have since removed my self farther from the busy places of men and women. I am perched on some lovely rocks, with a wonderful view of snow on distant hills and the heavy salt-scented seas. Around me are apple trees, pines, firs and, far below, sturdy Maralian Oaks. I watch deer, feral sheep, and bunnies scuttle through the forest. It is peaceful here.
I've also considered ways to avoid frustration. Move to Marali, and simply hunt with my fellow Armsmen Octar and Nial, and Armswoman Luciella. Just sticking with honest Vanguardians that I trust. And of course those dear Rebels. That compromise would allow me to still do my part to keep Oberin safe, meet my obligations to the Vanguard, and stay far from corruption.
Today I am going to town for supplies, I am running low on bread and tea. I will find a messanger to send this letter. When I have finished here I am thinking about returning to the abbey. Maybe for a short respite, and maybe for a very long sabbatical. Given everything that has happened in these wild few weeks, I am no longer certain my place should be amid such self-serving chaos. I still haven't decided and your advice is wanted.
Your Son,
Borti II
Armsman and Chaplain of the MaV. |
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CLERICS: can't live with them, can't live without them.
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Post subject: Children of the Corn?
Posted: Jan 10, 2012 - 06:01 AM
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Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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The waning of the Bleeding Moon, day 184, in the year of 437 of Elara.
Mirith.
To Abbot Jaren, St Alban's Monastery, outside Mirith.
My Dear Abbot,
This comes to you from the hand of Nial, Armsman of the MaV, as the most trusted courier I could find.
I bring you fearsome news. I came into Mirith for supplies, went to help rescue Cyric the Rogue from Ice Dungeon, and settled in at the bank to check mail and such. Whilst there, I heard from other that two others were creating an altar in front of the bank. And that they had laid down offerings to "the dark gods" and also "the God of Blood."
Now I think I am theologically impaired because I do not remember Brother Borris lecturing on these false gods. Indeed I asked a number of folks, and some of the things I was told were things like "They follow the god Corn," or "They are followers of Corn."
Now this makes no sense to me. How does one worship a vegetable? (OCC: Yes, mordern corn is a vegetable and not a grain! How shocking!) I heard they put down flowers, ash, skulls and red eggs.
I found the entire matter distasteful and maybe merely a prank. No more! Until the issue with Brigands at Mirith Bridge last night. One of them stood on the body of a dead cleric and called to the dark gods. I heard them reference the "still warm body" and "warm blood." Alarming.
What do you know of these so-called "Children of Corn?" Is it the right time for an inquistion? My deepest fear is such ingraditude toward The Lady, will turn Elara away from us, and a blight will cover the lands.
Also, I admit I wondered if there is a connection between these two, the Corn god, and the incursions of brigands and mercanaries around Oberin.
My dear Abbot, I find these things alarming, and I crave your aclarity and counsel.
Your Obediant Son
Borti II
Chaplain of the MaV. |
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CLERICS: can't live with them, can't live without them.
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Post subject:
Posted: Jan 11, 2012 - 07:17 AM
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Joined: Jul 12, 2011
Posts: 159
Location: Right behind you
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This missive is hidden in the folds of a bolt of wool, at the bottom of a cheap pine chest. Nial graciously agreed to tote the chest to the Abbey.
The waning of the Bleeding Moon, day 196, in the year of 437 of Elara.
From Andris.
To Abbot Jaren, St Alban's Monastery, outside Mirith.
There is far more alarming news, my dear Abbot, since my letter of last week. The brigand incursions have increased. Today Terliyne, MaV's newest recruit and member, was making potions in the guild hall when she was attacked. They ringed her with fire, but dear Ter remained defiant until we could mount a rescue. Our guards were missing, either dead or run off, and two shiney new oens arrived from the city.
What troubles me is the almost twice a day events filled with drunken brigands randomly occur. I don't think this is just a matter of the Bleeding moon, were they were chased out of their usual habitats.
Everyone in the towns are saying "the Black Hand this" or "the Black Hand that," as if there was only one author of evil in the world. By St Alban himself, I met a brand new cleric who told me it was the work of the Black Hand! This lad was scarely out of the seminary! No. It is too pat.
As I meditated tonight, on the rocks outside Mirith, I was disturbed by the quiet conversation of two strangers. Two tall men, one with a ranger's long bow, were muffled in heavy wool cloaks although the night air was temperate. I sat concealed above them, but could only hear the occasional word. They meaned "Blood" and later, the shorter one mentioned "corn."
I watched them as they walked the lonely road toward Andris. So I wanted for them to move on and took the magic portal. I hurried to the main gate and hid myself among the shrubbery. I confess this drew very strange looks from the guards. After several hours I heard the strangers approaching.
They paused at the Andris stable with one of them amusing himself by summoning and stabling a Giant Rat. The taller of the pair said, "it's a good plan. Everyone believes these appearances are the Black Hand. Let's let them until it is too late."
The shorter one waited for a guard to pass. "Indeed. Our best success though, would be to ... eliminate the clerics. Any clerics. Everyone would die. They would stop fighting. We could bring our own clerics in slowly."
The taller one scratched his chin and stared at the moon. He was frowning but relaxed with a nod. "Lets hope this works." He paused while a guard sauntered past. "Yes. When we get to the new moon I will have built an altar. Something more.. permanent."
"Here?"
"Why not. The last place anyone would expect such a thing is in the Red City. Money buys happiness, remember? Ha! Money buys complanency! Scruffy trouble stays in Mirith and evil in Marali, right?"
"I know just the place. The old guard housing. No one goes there."
My old room was down there in the Undercroft! I felt very alarmed.
"No. Not in the city. Someone like Morganis would stumble on it. Let's make it close to here but outside the city. Harder to find that way."
"Maybe between the Red City and the ruins of Duldrus?" The man released his pet rat to the stable.
And then the men wandered into the city. I waited a few minutes to follow. When I stood all four guards were staring at me quizically. "I dropped my purse here. It had all my crystals in in."
"I thought you might be a peeping Tom, but there is nothing to peep at here."
I searched everywhere and couldn't find those two again. I think I will stay about Andris and try to find them. Please alert whomever you feel you can trust. I will inform the rest of the MaV tomorrow, and try and track down Cassandra so the MV is warned as well.
Your Son,
Borti II |
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CLERICS: can't live with them, can't live without them.
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