New Beginnings

What an eventful day this has turned out to be. I understood when setting out from home that my decision to hit the road and see the world may bring surprises, but I wouldn't have gambled on a brush with death, new acquaintances and a discovery that I can perform magic. Magic! Such things aren't wielded by us common folk - it's the purview of the rich and learned, the wizards in their towers and heroes of legend.
 
I started my journey on safe and familiar terms, heading west with the intention of visiting Odessloe, Erdeloch and possibly Yrrosa. I figured I could make it to Odessloe in a day of walking, and late afternoon a gruelling day of drizzle and miles of unassuming road finally paid into my expectations as I arrived in the town. I dropped into the first tavern where I couldn't smell the stale beer from the street outside and imposed myself upon a busy barmaid, who could clearly see how weary I was. She deposited me on a table opposite a strange fellow wearing armour and with his nose in a book, whom I tried and failed to solicit conversation from. Roderick, as I found his name to be much later, seems like a wise and learned fellow more at home in the wider world than I, but not one for idle chatter. Before I could further make a fool of myself however, the same girl who had delivered unto me rest and a mug of water returned again to settle a wide, imposing creature I believe to be a tortle to our table. He introduced himself as Ongar, a wizard apprentice under a member of the Cerberus Assembly nearby. We didn't exchange much more than names however before a duo of raucous dwarves named Jakuki and Ceonwulf, clearly half-cut and high on life, descended upon our table and knocking Roderick from his literary reverie. Their loud, boisterous nature and nearly spilling his drink over his book seemed sure to spark an altercation, but the two seemed oddly disarming in their greetings and soon had the table in cheery discussion with the addition of some extra drinks for all.
 
The first revelation of the day came soon after; Roderick, silently nodding his thanks to the duo for his extra flagon, reached out and muttered some incantation while pressing his fingers to the mug of ale. A slight sense of power coursed through him and upon noticing my intrigued glance, explained that he was using a spell to flavour his drink more to his tastes. Purely as a jest I haughtily demanded he teach me this critical skill, and following his instructions I inadvertently managed to summon a puff of smoke from atop my own mug. Taken aback, I tried once more, focusing on the intention behind the words and channeling my will into a subtle vanilla and berry flavouring my grandmother used to make into a drink many years prior. It worked! I used magic to flavour my ale, and giddy with this newfound ability I soon drained my flagon and joined the conversation around the table. The scene seemed a little rowdy for my tastes in truth, but I soon found myself swept into the conversations and swapping tales and origins with the gathered group. More drinks arrived seemingly without being ordered, courtesy of one exceptionally pale elf trying to curry favour but unsuccessfully stay on the sidelines. She was soon persuaded to pull up a chair, at the expense of a poor local about to sit down, who fell in a heap with a crash!
 
Ongar regaled us with tales of his apprenticeship as a wizard and the recent death of his mentor, revealing some measure of ability by upsetting the proprietors with an ill-advised dweomer (new word from Ongar, remember that one) cast into her mind in order to show off and request more to drink, resulting in some rather ruffled feathers. He seems rather adrift in society for someone so learned, but he's a darling nonetheless. Gwen, the pale elf, was as a respite from the surrounding revelry, reserved and dignified as she appeared in the face of the machismo and loud drinking competitions borne from the three others nearest. I got little chance to converse, but she seems at home in the wild, her attire and bow revealing a self-sufficient nature and a discomfort from such an urban press of bodies such as this. I fully intended to ask the reason for buying the drinks and therefore her ticket into this madness, but our conversations were cut short by screams and calls for aid from outside.
 
Fires raged, people were trapped and initially unbeknownst to us, goblins raged and looted. I shan't document the ensuing battle in the area known as the Tumbledowns against the group of goblins, but ultimately it taught me much about the mettle of the people at our table, and ultimately of my own. While my conscience remains clear, today is the first time I have knowingly taken a life, that being a goblin assailing our group with a hail of arrows. I brought down my anger, frustration and pain in a blast of searing light which charred the vile creature to its very bones. The image is burned into my mind and grateful am I that the creature died at such distance that I don't have to spare much thought to the details. Thankfully my mind is soothed by the good we have done this day, saving many and helping to dampen the fires before they could spread. Roderick, Gwen, Ceonwulf and I all sported serious injuries that required tending, but again Roderick simply magicked his troubles away and healed his wounds with a spell. Ceonwulf, selfless to the last, brought the healing light of Pelor to bear for Gwen before she lost too much blood. Roderick taught me to channel my will once more, this time for healing as he did, and once I persuaded the mad dwarf to stand still for a moment I used this upon him. Healing magic is strange, foreign to me so far and while it knitted together the laceration in Ceonwulf's side, it was untidy and borne of my uncertainty. I decided not to attempt the same thing on myself, lest I somehow do myself some real harm. I've used the classic sheep's gut and needle to suture my own shoulder and arm, and I should fare just fine as I am.
 
We have returned to the Lying Bear inn as I write this for some well-earned rest. Board and lodge has been paid for, and despite the new medical supplies I have bought I somehow have plenty of money to journey on with. A Crownsguard captain called Reseigh stopped by to offer his thanks for our deeds in the Tumbledowns, suggesting we consider some work being offered by a nobleman of the town, a man by the name of Thomas Edemah. Certainly nobody I have heard of and the offer comes with some request for discretion. It sounds a little suspect as gainful employment goes, but truthfully between the interest shown by the others and my deep desire to keep such companionship on the road, I will likely try to persuade them to investigate with me in the morning upon Reseigh's return. I will not be surprised if Roderick or Gwen are absent come the morning given their reticent demeanour at the table so far, but I may petition the dwarven duo for their company and stick with them for a while if their odd crusade against "men with sticks" leads them away from Rexxentrum. As for Ongar, I can somehow tell that he has latched onto our little outfit, lost as he seems since his life was so suddenly upended recently. We shall see.
 
I can perform magic.