On Eastern Shores and Swamplands

Sixth day of Solea, 1485
 
Much has happened since my last entry… Nothing of particular note when we were on the boat - suffice to say we are no longer aboard the Jackdaw…
 
About a week ago, we stopped in a port and picked up a forest gnome passenger. She reminds me a bit of Priscilla Tringles, but maybe it’s simply that she is a forest gnome druid… She doesn’t talk much. The others seem surprised that she hasn’t approached them for money yet, but it seems likely that constantly grubbing for money isn’t a forest gnome practice… good. She has a small bird with her, I think his name is “Cheese”.
 
The rest of the voyage seemed to be going smoothly, until yesterday, when the captain, a worn, weatherbeaten and crippled man by the name of Anatolia, informed us that he was dropping us off at a fishing village because he didn’t want to lose his boat to pirates taking us to the port that we have apparently paid him for. I didn’t really catch the reasoning behind it, as I was below deck going over my spellbook to select what I wanted to prepare for the day. Grimaldus was bathing (he didn’t even have the courtesy to use the other cabin!), and it was putting a strain even on my well-honed concentration.
 
Grimaldus tried to guilt the captain into taking us all the way to our destination, but he adamantly refused… apparently there was also a sandstorm approaching that he refused to take the ship through. As irritating as it was, I do see the captain’s point of view… he doesn’t want to lose his ship and be stranded.
 
The fishing village that we were dropped off at was abandoned, it was all covered in cobwebs… Grimaldus said that everyone had left the village a couple weeks earlier. There were about a dozen chickens running around the village - which seemed to perk Dekar up a bit, I think he was tired of ship rations. (They were horrible - if I would have had more foresight, I would have brought several months worth of trail rations from Alcarin, at least we would have had better food that way.)
 
As we were investigating the village and surrounding area, something flew over us. Grimaldus said that it was a celestial being. And that we were going to journey to the Tree of Woe in the morning.
 
Meriwald asked what we were all talking about, and Grimaldus attempted to translate for him… he tries, he really does… but he told Meriwald that we were heading to the “bush of sorrow”. That set Meriwald off on a rant, making jokes about the name… “beware the shrub of sadness…” I tried hard to not burst out laughing - I managed, but it was difficult.
 
I cast Leomund’s Tiny Hut that night, just to be safe. Inira and Dekar took the first watch. Just when I was starting to sink into my meditation, I heard Inira call out to someone - a name I’d never heard before. That jolted me out of my meditation with a start…
 
A resplendent celestial figure stood behind a robed woman. I recognized him as a summoned guardian, but what caught my attention was the horribly injured naked man standing next to her, clutching a newborn baby to his chest.
 
Inira walked right up to them and began talking. I woke Grimaldus before leaving the hut - I was not about to leave him sleeping unprotected to deal with whatever this situation was going to turn into.
 
Inira was talking to the woman, as I got closer, her elven lineage was obvious. A half-elf, with eyes that have seen too much. The man though… he was the real threat - even appearing half dead, naked and covered with blood, it was how he moved. At least he seemed to be protecting the baby…
 
When I called out, demanding to know who he was, he said his name is Hasim, and “please do not curse me with your elven gaze.” The man actually looked fearful, and didn’t meet my eyes.
 
What in the ever living fuck? Who actually believes that just because I’m an elf, I will curse them with my gaze? That’s horrible, not to mention not even something that can be done. Bestowing a curse? Yes, if I was a filthy necromancer. (Sorry, Inira.) But I am not. I studied conjuration magic at the Alcarin academy of Egig Ero Fa. I am not going to randomly curse a man I have never met, especially not with my gaze. Is this what people in this land think of Elves? No wonder Grimaldus was so wary, watching my every move when we first met him in Latria.
 
What the fuck? I’m just glad that I don’t think Meriwald heard that, he’s kind of distracted, amusing himself with terrifying the small bird, Cheese. It is a good thing, for he would never let me live that one down… “do not curse me with your elven gaze.” What the fuck?
 
Grimaldus joined us and asked what his purpose here was. The man, Hasim, said that he was trying to protect his newborn son. Apparently the man and his wife were crucified on that tree of woe Grimaldus mentioned, and he had to cut the baby from her womb.
 
Grimaldus held out his hand and told the newcomer to give him the baby. Inira seemed a bit shocked, and I wasn’t surprised when the man refused. She tried to say that she could heal the baby, but I could see where Grimaldus was going with this… if the mother was dead, then the baby hadn’t been fed, and if human babies are anything like Elven ones… they require near constant sustenance and care in order to survive, much less thrive.
 
Grimaldus turned to Inira and told her that the baby didn’t require healing, it was exhausted and already nearing starvation. “Clearly his wife is dead, otherwise she would be here. Give. The. Baby. To. Me.” he insisted.
The man still refused to do as Grimaldus commanded, saying that he would give the baby to anyone but Grimaldus. When Grimaldus said that the baby would die of starvation within the next eight hours, I decided to intervene. If he believes that I can curse him with my gaze, then maybe he’ll be frightened enough to not want to go against me… so I walked up and held my hands out, saying “You apparently know of the magic of my people… hand the babe to me.” he looked like he was about to refuse, so I said “I give you my word.”
 
That man is so ignorant. He actually said “if anyone knows anything, it is that elves are incapable of lying.” What the fuck? Does he have any idea HOW OFTEN elves lie? One word… Filandrel. But at least, he handed me the baby - which I promptly gave to Grimaldus.
 
Grimaldus held the baby in one hand - that’s how tiny it was. Grimaldus chanted a prayer, and its color improved and it stopped crying. He handed the baby back to me, and I handed him back to Hasim. (Then I used prestidigitation to clean myself up again.)
 
Grimaldus switched to speaking Yongrel, and he began interrogating Hasim on why he was nailed to the tree, and who did it. Apparently something about the Serpent’s Claw or Tail or something. Without understanding the context, it is difficult to fully grasp a conversation. Later on, Hasim explained that the east is largely run by criminal organizations working out in the open. “Legal” criminals, which makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, but apparently, they also believe that elves can curse you with their gaze and are incapable of lying… I wonder when someone came across an Elf who lied to them about that to even get those stories started… but it is of no actual concern, merely a passing amusement.
 
Grimaldus dictated that we would sleep in the tiny hut, but Hasim would sleep away from us, in the granary. As Hasim left, I warned him that he had better not harm the gnome sleeping within, and if he did, I would kill him. “With her gaze.” Grimaldus stated, in all seriousness. Wow. But, even I have to admit that was a good joke.
 
The half-elven woman came up and asked where she could stay. Inira introduced her as Secilia. Apparently they met in Yaharghul a few months earlier.
 
Grimaldus came over and asked who she was, because she didn’t look like a normal human. I told him that she is a half-elf.
“Half elf, that is to say that this is a child of an elf and a human?” He looked oddly pensive.
“Yes…” I replied, thinking the answer obvious. “That is what half-elf means.”
“So it is possible.”
 
I heard Meriwald in my mind whispering “What the fuck?” This time… I wholeheartedly agree with him. If it were anyone but Grimaldus, I would think he might have just been joking. I don’t think so, but I hope so. Either way, it is not something I can spend too much thought on at the moment, there are more pressing matters at hand right now.
 
We ended up taking the baby into the tiny hut, Grimaldus laid him down on a pile of furs, so he would be safe and warm. I sat down next to him and started singing quietly. I figured that the lullaby might help, it is the same one my mother sang to me, and the same one that comforted the young Aeliianna in Yaharghul when Ravlor sang it to her.
 
Secilia was looking at me oddly. She asked what song I was singing. I told her, it’s just a traditional Elvish lullaby. She said she remembers her mother singing it to her. We talked for a time and I learned a bit about her. I was hoping that if she could give me some information about her mother, I might be able to help her learn of her family, but alas, all she knows is that her mother’s name was Helena. I do not recognize the name as anyone I’ve ever met or heard tell of… judging by the area she was born, I’m assuming that her mother was an exile…
 
I asked her age, and she said she believes she is around thirty years old. If she lost her family when she was five, that would have been twenty-five years ago… right at the beginning of the undead sweeping the land… My first impression of her was confirmed… her eyes have seen far too much. I looked at her and felt as though my heart was breaking… no child should have to see the things that she had seen… her entire village, her mother, torn apart by undead hordes… it is no wonder that when I misconstrued her comment earlier about being already dead, and thought for a split second that she was some form of undead, it is no wonder why I caught a flash of rage in her eyes…
 
I apologized for suspecting her of being undead, for I was honestly impressed, having learned what I had, that she hadn’t tried to strike me.
 
She is so young… when I was her age, I was consumed with my studies, tucked away in the safety of Egig Ero Fa… I don’t wish to imagine facing undead hordes as a child. How must that shape you? I am haunted by memories of the war? She was a child! Children should not be anywhere close to war… much less have their villages be the very beginnings of it…
 
I found myself wishing for some of the eloquence of the others, even Filandrel would know what to say to her, for he is nothing if not eloquent. I have my moments, but what does one say when they are faced with the cold mask of a woman, hiding so much pain and trauma from their childhood? I looked to her and simply told her that I am sorry. No one should have had to see what she saw.
 
Secilia brushed it off as nothing, but I know… I know what she must have seen in her village… I know what it is like to see everyone you care about torn apart around you… I am just fortunate enough that it wasn’t my mother, and I was old enough to do something about it… however futile it was, I was still able to take some of them with us…
 
My watch came quickly. I was prepared to take it with just Meriwald, but Secilia opted to join me. At first, I thought she might want to talk, but no… the first half of our watch passed in silence.
 
Just as I was about to break the silence and try to strike up a conversation, I saw the gnome, Rowan, heading off into the swamp, with her chicken in tow. It looked like she was following something. I called out to her to stop, and when she refused, I told her that her chicken would die in the swamp. I was hoping that would be enough to get her to stay within the relative safety of the village, but she simply sent the chicken away and started down into the swamp. I asked Meriwald to follow her, maintaining a safe distance for himself, but just to make sure that no harm came to her, and if it did, then I would be able to intervene. Maybe it is because of Priscilla’s assistance when I was in Crastvongrad, or maybe it is something else, but I have no wish to see harm befall the forest gnome.
 
I could feel Meriwald moving in my mind. Rowan was following a small myconid, a child? They made their way through the swamp until they reached a dead adult myconid. The swamp is corrupted by the undead curse. It is poisoning the land and the water, which is apparently leading to the death of the myconids and a general famine on the land.
 
We agreed to deal with the issue in the morning, and Secilia and I finished our watch.
 
When dawn came and everyone awoke, Rowan and I informed the others what had transpired during the night… we agreed to go into the swamp and try to find a woman wearing an iron mask that was being held captive by ghouls… I can’t believe that I agreed to this… I came here to get away from everything… I wanted to get away for a while… not come to the east and deal with undead incursions here too…
 
Before we set off, Grimaldus talked to Hasim (who at least was cleaned up a little bit now) about the necessity to find a trade caravan or similar group of people to take the baby - as it would not be safe to bring him into the swamp with us. Hasim agreed to send him to the caravan at a nearby village, but asked if anyone had an amulet or something of value that we could give the child so he wouldn’t be sold.
 
What the fuck is up with this place? Why are these people okay with selling babies?! If anyone even suggested the idea of selling an Elven child into slavery, every one of our people within a thousand miles would descend on them to relieve them of the notion… and their life.
 
Grimaldus dedicated the child to Kord, he held the baby aloft and chanted a prayer. The skies darkened and lightning flashed across the sky. He demanded the child’s name, and when Hasim told him, he shouted it to the heavens. “Sabbah.” The baby cried, or shouted, I really don’t know - I haven’t spent time with children, much less human infants…
 
When Grimaldus returned the baby to Hasim, I could see a marking on the child’s back… a lightning bolt and a dagger. I gave Hasim a piece of parchment and a quill to write a letter to his child, which he did (he seemed insulted when I asked if he could write), then wrapped the parchment around a bent nail and tucked it into the babe’s blanket. Then, he handed his child to Secilia, who gave him to her celestial summon, with the command to take the baby to the village that Grimaldus had mentioned. Hopefully the child survives.
 
After that, we set off into the swamp (leaving the myconid child, Cheese, and Rowan’s pet chicken behind). Have I mentioned that I hate swamps? As we ventured further, the fetid air made me wish for the clean, cool breezes of Alcarin.
 
We came upon a clearing that held an old broken-down shrine, it looked to be a shrine to some aberrant beast. Dekar, naturally, walked right up to it and smashed it to pieces with his sword, leaving the weapon embedded as an insult to whomever the shrine belonged to. It didn’t take us long before we learned of its caretakers… for we soon found ourselves confronted by several tree blights and four trolls. Three of them seemed pretty average, but one of them was overly large, and I could see that inside its body were the twisted, tormented faces of people that the troll had consumed. Their spirits were being tortured, before (most likely) being devoured by the beast.
 
I don’t feel like recounting the exact happenings of the fight, suffice to say that we defeated them handily. Rowan can shapeshift into larger animals than I’ve seen most druids transform into… she turned into a giant snake and wrapped herself around one of the tree blights to keep it restrained. I remember hoping that Grimaldus wouldn’t attack her, I am not entirely sure how deep his hatred of snakes runs, and I would have hated for him to have automatically harmed the forest gnome in the form of a snake. He didn’t though, which I was glad for - I know that it can be difficult… each time Inira summons one of her undead, I have to make a conscious effort not to immediately lash out at it, even when she has her skeletons forming a ring of protection around us. Old habits die hard.
 
Rowan and Grimaldus led us to the most likely area that the masked woman was being held… the way was blocked by stone, which Dekar moved out of the way with a spell. I still find it curious sometimes that he can cast some spells at will, but he has never expressed an interest in learning any more.
 
We found ourselves in a dark passageway, lit by luminescent mushrooms and other fungi - the like of which I haven’t seen outside of the upper levels of Narvoth. I hope that we don’t have to descend into the underdark… as we continued on, we were stopped by a large myconid, who refused to grant us leave to continue. The gnome talked to him for some time, and he finally agreed to let us accompany him to meet with the masked lady.
 
Admittedly, I thought she was merely a myth. A story told to children. The tale of Saint Ostraba, or something like that. She stood up to the Blood Lord and was punished, or something of the like. I thought we were going to enter the chamber and find a rotting corpse.
 
What we found wasn’t that far off, but it was also so far from the truth… the chamber that the myconid led us into was filled with people, refugees from the nearby villages. Sitting at the head of the room, on a throned dais, was a woman… or at least what appeared to be a woman. She was old, and an iron mask encompassed her entire face, locking onto her head with some mechanism. Her fingers and nails almost formed claws, and when she lifted her arms, I swear that I saw cobwebs in her joints.
 
This was the saint that everyone was counting on? A fucking vampire? I could feel the tingle of magic as I subconsciously began reaching for it, gathering it in my hands. She spoke with us, and told me that if I wished to kill her, to please get it over with. The woman is indeed the saint that I have heard tell of… apparently the Blood Lord turned her into a vampire as a form of twisted punishment and she locked herself behind the mask, and in this swamp, as a way to try to protect people from herself. I suppose it is commendable, but she is still undead…
 
She knows Grimaldus, apparently she helped him in the past when he was seeking out the death of a sorcerer king who he got his black mace from. She spoke with Rowan about the guardians. Apparently, the gnome has the power and the knowledge to regrow the ancient tree guardians… there is one in the center of the swamp, and if she can get there and we eliminate the creature, a hydra, that is at the source of the corruption, then she will be able to restore the guardian, or at least begin to grow a new one, and that will stop the spread of the undead curse.
 
If that is true, and Rowan can do such a thing… I think I must take her to the grove of the Unseen Circle, where Ertu was burned… if she can restore Ertu, or even grow a new guardian, it might repay the druids of the Unseen Circle for a bit of the help that they provided, at such a loss… especially since we were unable to save them and their grove. Also, it might bring some peace to Ravlor as well, seeing as I know he felt largely responsible for the druids who were killed there, since he led them in their defense…
 
Inira is now approaching the masked woman to speak… I am going to try to meditate, but I don’t know how I will be able to relax… I have been sitting here, writing instead of meditating, because I cannot relax in the lair of a vampire - however benevolent she may seem. I think I will stop writing now, for my mind is tired. None of the others seem particularly bothered by this, except, perhaps, for Secilia. Grimaldus is already asleep. I’m going to conjure a tiny hut, and ask Meriwald to guard me as I meditate, and then I shall guard him as he sleeps...