Quirk's Journals

Ash turned out to be a wonderful traveling companion. He was a skilled hunter and made great company. His intimidation factor was a blessing as would-be bandits thought better of barring our way.
 
At Candlekeep, I presented a copy of an old Aarakocran cultural text for admission and loaned Ash’s guard dog services at the gate for the duration of my stay. Over the ensuing months, I dug deep into my studies. I wanted to know everything there was about injuries and wounds of the mind and how they might be treated.
 
One day, as I sat pouring over some particularly complex articles, someone quietly took the seat across from me. I glanced up to give a courteous nod, but froze when I met the gaze of another Aarakocra. He was hunched over slightly and his feathers, once a rich copper-barred brown, were faded with age. I stood and bowed my head respectfully to my elder.
 
"Forgive me, please. I wasn't expecting to meet any of my own kind so far from home," I said.
 
After a pause, the elder spoke: "Welcome, young one. I am Coo."
 
"It's an honor to meet you, Coo. My name is Kri." I thought I caught the subtlest flash of something in Coo's eye when he heard my name, but I couldn't be sure.
 
"I'm sorry to disturb your studies, but you see, I wasn't expecting to meet any of my own kind so far from home either." He chuckled. "What brought you to Candlekeep, Kri?"
 
I sat down and told Coo about the returning warriors and my mission to find better ways to help them. "I'm sure you know about Elaacrimalicros," I said. Coo nodded gravely. "My uncle was among those scattered to other places in the last attack 8 years ago."
 
"And he has not yet returned?"
 
I hung my head sorrowfully. "No."
 
"Come with me," said Coo.
 
He led me past countless book spines, through rows and rows of shelves, and into the main hall where he pushed open the nearest window and gestured to a passing patron.
 
"Close this up behind us, won't you?" he said. The startled patron, a portly gnome, nodded her head. With that, Coo threw himself out the window and into the wind. I followed after him, marveling at the grace and speed with which he maneuvered, even in his advanced years.
 
We climbed steadily upward, to the peaks of the tower spires of the great archive, until we reached a landing platform and a stone door which had evidently been installed specifically for Coo's access. As I alighted behind him, Coo slid the talons of his right hand into a specially crafted lock. I couldn't work out the logistics of it, but it was obvious that only an Aarakocra would have the dexterity and range of motion to manipulate the mechanism inside.
 
The door swung inward and we hopped a half-step down into a spacious private study. In the far corner was a loft. The nest on top told me that these were Coo's personal quarters. Even from across the room, I recognized the weaving pattern of the northern colonies, joining grasses and twigs together in tight, dense bundles intended to conserve heat and banish bitter winds. In the center of the room was a wide rug covered in calming blue mandala patterns where a few broad cushions were laid out. The stale scent of incense coated the air.
 
I stood quietly, taking in the surroundings, as Coo gathered up a few things in his arms. "Come. Sit," he waved at the cushions. I sat, wondering what all this could be about. Coo stacked a few volumes on the ground between us and pulled up a cushion for himself. He pushed the books toward me and said, "Kri, I feel as though we've already met." I stared at Coo, confused. "As clouded as his mind was, in the time I spent with him here, Quirk had only the clearest and happiest memories of you. These," he swept his arm over the books, "are his journals."
 
I was dumbfounded. "You know him? You know my uncle?" I stammered. Coo explained that Quirk had come to Candlekeep about a year ago with a blue Dragonborn named Umber, a Harengon named Kunin, and a Tiefling-Elf woman named Enya. The four were Hell Riders of Elturel seeking help on their mission to save the city. Coo had trained Quirk in the Way of the Kensei and started him on a path of reconnection between his mind and body.
 
"Please, make yourself comfortable. Quirk's writings will tell you all you need to know. Take all the time you need," said Coo.
 
Hours passed as I read and reread page after page. All the while, Coo meditated silently. Uncle Quirk had suffered so far beyond anything I had seen, even amongst his comrades who had returned. By nightfall, I had finished. I copied down a few key pages to carry with me and let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. He thought I was dead. I had to find him.