Cavallah's Journals
The following is a series of important exerpts from Cavallah's writings, found amongst the various books and scrolls in her laboratory. They detail her life since her departure from Droaam in 990 YK.
It has been nearly a week since I left the border of Droaam in Graywall. Though I am almost to my destination, I cannot seem to shake the feeling of dread that I felt when I left the Sisters. Sora Maenya was amiable enough, but Sora Teraza kept reciting some lines from a text that were unfamiliar to me, slipping from the Common tongue to Draconic in mid-speech. Sora Kell, my mentor, could hardly look me in the eyes. I think that was the last time I'll see them. There was a finality in their farewell that spoke of their knowledge of my fate.
I received a message from Sora Katra today. It was short and to the point, lacking any of the familiarity of my old mentor. I am to stop these aggressive attacks at once, she says, and continue to control our people in Malleon's Gate and Gate of Gold. Though she did not rebuke me, she may as well have. She has dispatched a gorgon by the name of Harash to join me as an advisor. He comes bearing a trinket of appreciation from the Sisters, and their gratitude for my faithful service. Something tells me I am not aware of everything that my old mentor is scheming. I am missing a considerable part of her bigger plan, and that unnerves me. ...
It is as I feared. This Harash, though an intelligent creature that can converse with me at my level, has been sent for the express purpose of curbing my more aggressive tendancies. Though I do not appreciate receiving a chaperone, I am more than capable of reading my old mentor's subtext. I am to bide my time until my skills better serve the people of Droaam. Though it stings to not be aware of what that purpose is, I trust my mentor.
It has been months since the Daughters have spoken to me, but they continue to tell me that I lead our people here with their confidence. Though their words are always congratulatory and endearing, I do not get those feelings when I hear their words. As the spell fades, I can already feel my familiar rage burn within me. It has been years since I last felt someone's life snuffed out by my hand. The old hag has visited me twice since her first visit. Though she has never spoken to me, I believe I do not believe I can trust her. I never met Sora Kell, but I believe that this creature is the old witch, trying to impart a message that I don't understand yet. If she is anything like her Daughters, she would never impart a message to help me. Further manipulation from a group of self-serving witches...
990 YK
The Sisters have provided me with a mission: Go to Sharn and start making a home for our people in the Lower Wards. I hear Stregebor has been getting soft, and tried to parley with one of the halfling criminals. We won't get anywhere with weakness. If we are to make a home for ourselves in that metropolis, we must be willing to walk a razors edge between gentility and savagery. Stregebor was always too much of a blunt instrument to understand that. Nevertheless, tomorrow's the day I leave the Great Crag and make my way to the city. The sisters have already arranged transport with one of the minataur clans, someone named Kar Bloodhorn will lead my retinue. Tonight, I'll spend my last night in my true form. In the morning, I am only the goblin Cavallah. ...It has been nearly a week since I left the border of Droaam in Graywall. Though I am almost to my destination, I cannot seem to shake the feeling of dread that I felt when I left the Sisters. Sora Maenya was amiable enough, but Sora Teraza kept reciting some lines from a text that were unfamiliar to me, slipping from the Common tongue to Draconic in mid-speech. Sora Kell, my mentor, could hardly look me in the eyes. I think that was the last time I'll see them. There was a finality in their farewell that spoke of their knowledge of my fate.
991 YK
Gate of Gold is ours. It took me nearly four months to get my affairs in order within Malleon's Gate, but once everyone came around to my way of thinking (after discovering that the coward Stregebor was no longer capable of doing his own thinking) it became easier to direct the gnolls and goblins to do my bidding. I think that the goblins know that there is something different about me, but I am confident they have no idea what I truly am. It was such a rush to see old Saidan Boromar captiulate and offer terms. He has none of my natural power but his halflings lined the roof of every building in Callestan. It would not be wise to press the attack after the losses we have already incurred, but I expect the Daughters will send me reinforcements (refugees) shortly. ...I received a message from Sora Katra today. It was short and to the point, lacking any of the familiarity of my old mentor. I am to stop these aggressive attacks at once, she says, and continue to control our people in Malleon's Gate and Gate of Gold. Though she did not rebuke me, she may as well have. She has dispatched a gorgon by the name of Harash to join me as an advisor. He comes bearing a trinket of appreciation from the Sisters, and their gratitude for my faithful service. Something tells me I am not aware of everything that my old mentor is scheming. I am missing a considerable part of her bigger plan, and that unnerves me. ...
It is as I feared. This Harash, though an intelligent creature that can converse with me at my level, has been sent for the express purpose of curbing my more aggressive tendancies. Though I do not appreciate receiving a chaperone, I am more than capable of reading my old mentor's subtext. I am to bide my time until my skills better serve the people of Droaam. Though it stings to not be aware of what that purpose is, I trust my mentor.
992 YK
To steady my restless mind I have taken to studying the manifest zones of Eberron. I can't explain what drew me to the subject, but I found myself pulled to one of the tomes one of my new associates brought me. Truly fascinating, how the many planes interact with our world. Some, like Thelanis, are frequently contermonious and can be accessed more easily by magic. Some gateways seem to be always active, though still effected by contermonious periods. I've heard that the Sharn Skyway can be effected by hundreds of feet depending on the connection between Eberron and Syrania. Studying these zones could be the diversion I have been waiting for.994 YK
Cyre is gone. Some energy (arcane?) cut through the nation like a knife and decimated anything within it's borders. The skeptic in me finds the mist forming almost exactly along the old Cyran border far too much of a convenience for this to be an accident. The student in me wants to leave this wretched city right this instant to see what effects this magic has had on the planar energies and manifest zones. I'm tired of waiting in this city to see what the Daughters want from me. I also took the time to excavate some of the old ruins below Sharn. I don't care for much of the history of this place myself, but I believe by agreeing to support their bid to reclaim their heritage that I have bought their undying loyalty. ... I had a dream (a vision?) last night. An old hag visited me in a room of black stone. There she showed me how to secure memories in liquid form as a means of transmitting them to others. I woke with an odd silver vial in my hands, bound to a long chain. I don't remember making it, and that fact unnerves me. To make matters worse, I toured the excavation site today. The goblins call the place "Dolsharn" the ancestral name to the area. Most of the structures were made out of a distinctive black rock that reminded me of my dream the night before. My concerns were justified when they showed me the fort of the old king. I hardly needed to receive a tour, because I had been there before.996 YK
The war seems to be coming to a close. Negotiations have started in Thronehold, and it seems Karrnath is suing for peace. Even King Boranel, at the head of the still-impressive Brelish army is willing to come to the table to honor a truce. I have it on good authority that the human is going to recognize Droaam as its own nation, a popular sentiment in my neighborhoods. While I am proud of our shared achievement, I cannot help but feel that I have somehow been manipulated to play my part in all of this without my knowing. Did my mentor, Sora Katra, send me to Droaam knowing that I would strike out against the halflings? Did she use me to put the fear of our people in the heart of the king in order to gain some sort of edge in negotiations? Am I supposed to be blackmail, or a trusted agent? ...It has been months since the Daughters have spoken to me, but they continue to tell me that I lead our people here with their confidence. Though their words are always congratulatory and endearing, I do not get those feelings when I hear their words. As the spell fades, I can already feel my familiar rage burn within me. It has been years since I last felt someone's life snuffed out by my hand. The old hag has visited me twice since her first visit. Though she has never spoken to me, I believe I do not believe I can trust her. I never met Sora Kell, but I believe that this creature is the old witch, trying to impart a message that I don't understand yet. If she is anything like her Daughters, she would never impart a message to help me. Further manipulation from a group of self-serving witches...
997 YK
I think she wants me to drink the vial. For some reason, I dread touching it. I've kept it here in my laboratory. I wish I could trust Sora Katra. She would know what to do, but I fear she no longer has my best interests at heart. I can feel the strain of the hag's influence on me. I can hear a whisper in the back of my mind. Sometimes it sounds clearer, and I swear I can hear the intonations of Sora Teraza within the cacophony of whispers. What are the Daughters doing to me?998 YK
I am nothing but bait. Sora Kell (I *know* it is her now) compelled me to drink that damnable vial and I saw it all clearly. Sora Kell is losing her grip on the material plane, trapped somewhere on the continent. In some twist of prophecy, my name is mentioned as the challenge for one of the many groups of adventurers that pass through this city. Destroying me is to be the signal that the Daughters are waiting for, as a way to distinguish them for a greater purpose. All these years... wasted in the service of those cursed Daughters. What good was my loyalty? My dedication? They have spat on my service and my love for them. So be it. If I am to be the monster in this story, what a monster I will be... ... Everything comes together here at the end. This city, this disgusting representation of the treachery that has been committed against me, will be razed to the ground. The towers will fall, and fire will consume the enemies of my people. I may only rule over the rubble, but my goblins have shown that they are adept at rebuilding from the rubble. I have made a new friend in the Corruptor. His emmissary, the Illithid named Callim, has expressed an interest in joining in an alliance. Apparently the seal that holds his kind in Khyber has been cracked. If my crew were to remove the rest of the seal, his master would be willing to form a partnership. That may solve some of my problems with any reprisals from King Boranel, or the Daughters. I'll commune with the Corruptor this evening here in the laboratory, using the instructions that Callim gave me. I won't be anyone's puppet- not ever again- but I could be persuaded to be the new warlord of Dolsharn...
Type
Journal, Personal
