Log of the Quartet Royale

Miscellaneous

1559
16/11 22:00

The 16th of November in The Year of Our Lord 1559

As the captain of the Quartet Royale has been indisposed, I, Waxim of The Molfpaque, shall take on this log in his place. May Michael, the Angels, and the Lord Our God watch over us.

17:00

We arrived at the shores of Japan, but this does not seem to be "Shimonoseki." We have already been swept off course and cannot afford to waste much more time. Only by Tambouriner's command of the waves are we not far later for our rendezvous. Still, there is a certain way to go about these things. We are passengers aboard an Albionite ship and will not cause any more trouble for the captain ~~than we have already.~~ I have given the order to send a signal to the small harbor town we can see at shore. A request for permission to dock. I hope that the blessing of tongues Artiya'il cast on me will aid me even in this strange land.

17:30

We have received word from shore. The lord of this town, Maxim, will meet with us in the morning. Maxim? Is that not an Albionite name? What's more, Vizier Orat seems to know who he is. Is this truly Japan, or have we gone so far astray that we've ended up back where we started?

22:00

I was roused from my prayers by news of a man standing on the water outside the ship. Our bosun said that the man spoke to him in a strange foreign tongue. Perhaps this is Japan after all. I left my quarters and invited the stranger aboard. A tall, broad man with silver hair and clad in finery answered my summons. He must be a man of some power here. Indeed, his aura seems comparable to my own, which is most impressive. Tambouriner and Artiya'il are nowhere to be found. My guardian angel is probably in the crow's nest again, and the fae spirit watching from somewhere unseen. I was therefore forced to meet him with only Vizier Orat by my side. Unfortunate, as the man from Japan had two companions. One was a slight local maiden. She appeared unassuming, but there was an intensity in her gaze as she studied my powerful form that left me slightly on edge. The other companion was none other than a fellow Albionite. She introduced herself as Mary Lyn and welcomed us to Japan. Later, my Vizier informed me that this was none other than the court magician of Arthur himself. Heavens above! I would have conducted myself differently, had I known. It seemed that the man with silver hair wished to know of our intentions here, so I began telling him my story. Starting with my humble beginnings in Molf, I elaborated on my technomagical transportation to Albion and my adventures there, culminating in death at the hands of Agravaine. I could tell by the furrow of his brow that he wanted to know more. So I continued. My audience with Archangel Michael, his blessing of Artiya'il as my guardian angel, the suit of angelic armor I now bear, my further adventures (including the one in which I met a spirit of good luck, Tambouriner), and the truth of my mission: to find and forgive Mordred for all that she has done. All of it I laid bare. When my story finally wound to a halt, I was met with only stunned silence. Indeed, this is often the response to my tale, and I take it as nothing short of a compliment. Orat, however, told me later that I should have at least asked for the foreign man's name first.