Journal of Kallun Willendon

[jmecha]

** Written within the first page of a durable leather bound tome**




I am Kallun Willendon
Student of the Old Order
and this is my journal.

[jmecha]

After several rides spent traveling both overland roads and river routes I have arrived by river boat to Silverymoon, Gem of the North. While my city of origin maybe aptly named the city of splendors due to it’s grand trading port and market places where nearly all the corners of the realms can be found gathered and represented in a tempest of exchange, I would be remised if not to confess how truly impressed I am by what beauty exists here in Silverymoon. From the highest spires to the stone work of the city streets this Gem of the North shines with a vibrant light and life unlike any I have ever beheld during my lifetime in Waterdeep. The entire city appears to exist in a state of harmony as men and women offer kind greeting in passing upon streets. Streets that are not only free of filth and rubbish as found in Waterdeep, but are instead lined with all manner of trees and gardens. To walk through Silverymoon is traverse a great and fabled place such as Myth Drannor.

I do not know what many wonders this city possess but I make now for the Vault of Sages where I am told any man, woman, or child may go to study the vast collection of lore that has been amassed by the many educated scholars of Silverymoon over the course of the cities existence. Here I intend to study and develop an understanding of Netherese to aid in supplementing my research of our history and my own journey towards understanding. I find myself filled with excitement and an eagerness. Although I have traveled far from home to come to Silverymoon, I can not help but feel that now I have arrived by adventure is just now beginning.

If I were to make note of concern here it would be that of finances. While Silverymoon appears a city in which one could survive and thrive alongside others merely existing upon the goodwill and cheer that permeates this place, I fear such is not a truth. Of the large sum of wealth that was made mine by selling my shares of my father’s estate to my older brother, I am left with only two hundred gold coins. While two hundred gold coins is an ample sum still, I fear that without any source of income that sizable sum will surely dwindle in time as it is spent upon the various expenses of existence and research in a city as large and majestic as this Gem of the North.

[jmecha]

I have been told the Silverymoon Vault of Sages is the largest collection of knowledge assembled. What I had been told pales in comparison to the overwhelming experience of walking amongst the countless tomes lining the walls of Vault of Sage’s multi-floored complex. After several hours spent orientating myself to the locations of the various sections that range from Ancient Gnomish History to the rules and statistics of various sporting events from ages pass to last week’s Hin Stone Throw Competition.

Within the East Wing of the First Floor alone exist tomes covering such topics as follows.

Ancient History
Modern History
Racial History
Law
Foreign Languages by Race
Foreign Languages by Region
Geography
Geology
Health

Each of the topics is spread a cross several different multi-tier sprawling shelves loaded to burden with thick tomes, each holding countless pages. I do believe that if I was to devout all of my waking hours from this day forward to study within the vault, there would not be enough days in my years to digest a fraction of the knowledge held here.

Upon eventual confession to the staff my desire to learn Loross the ancient and noble tongue of the Netherese as well as making inquire about my traveler’s more material concerns about seeking gainful employment for the duration of my stay, I was met with knowledge advice and guidance for both matters. It appears that although Loross is not a language known by many here, there is a Knight of Silver of the title Knight-Protector Alyra Ashedown with whom I am told is fluent in Loross and known for her charitable nature. I will seek out this Knight-Protector in hopes she maybe able to provide guidance to my studies.

[jmecha]

**What appears to be chicken tracks lead from the top left corner to the bottom right corner of the following pages**

I can not deny the feeling that I have been wronged, betrayed by my own self with no other to blame for my current predicament. I write these words while seated at a small wooden table that appears to have suffered under the daggers of several different graffiti artists, must of which apparently have no talent for the proper spelling of words. I am in the small village of Rivermoot which appears to have a population of perhaps forty or so actual people and a small collection of livestock roaming the village square. The village is little more then hovels surrounded by walls atop an island of mud admits the back waters of the Rauvin River. I think it maybe possible that this very village is the orgin of the term “back water village.”


My being here began with a much welcomed distraction to my studies within the Vault of Sages. I overheard Keeper of the Vault Mourin conversing with what sounded to be a rather excitable elderly man. I arose from my study of the Netherese language which continues to confound my mind, and moved to see what cause there was for such commotion within the great hall of the Vault. Upon rounding corner and entering the great hall I beheld that the voice of the excitable sounding elderly man was actually that of a gleaming eyed gnome. Vault Keeper Mourin was offering warning of wolves along the road to the Gnome and making polite request that the Gnome return in time with some unique texts of interest to the Vault.

The two made note of my appearance beside them and after a brief but formal exchange of names I came to know the traveling gnome trader as Poffer. The pair apologized for their noise distracting me from my studies and I confessed to them the truth that if not for their conversation I likely would have conjured my own reason to take pause from study of symbols and text beyond my comprehension. Upon hearing such though both men thought it maybe to everyone’s advantage that I travel with Poffer as he makes his way to Rivermoot.

Having made local delivers in service to the Vault of Sages to cover some of the costs of my staying within the Gem of the North, I was inclined to accept their offer of accompanying the gnome to Rivermoot. This is where I believe I began my own betrayal, either here or perhaps when I originally arose from my studies to investigate the conversation of other men. My own choices have lead me here, to Rivermoot the mud puddle of the Rauvin River.

The journey though was not without it’s experiences and lessons though. I managed to fend off a wolf that attacked my companion and I during our travels, as well as sighted what appeared to be a band of orcs prowling about a great tree located west of High Hold and East of the ruins outside of Rivermoot. I have never needed to actually defend my own life through force of arms until that wolf made attempt to make meal of Poffer and I. While scared and panicked at the sight of such a beast charging wild eyed, my years of training allowed my body swift action despite my stunned and horrified mind.

Also of note was the encountering of Leif the Woodman along the road between High Hold and the Orcs Poffer and I later spotted near the great tree. This Leif greeted us with an honest cheer that lived within his voice as if the man was deeply pleased in on some personal level that he had encountered two travelers along the road. The three of us stopped long enough to exchange news of what we had seen along our travels. Poffer spoke of the Wolves that roamed in unusually large numbers from High Hold to Rauvin Watch, and Leif spoke of dangers north of High Hold best to be avoided. We then continued upon our way Poffer and I, as Leif left to continue on his way saying his farewells with the same sincere traveler’s cheer that he originally greeted us.

During my travels to the Silver Marches by both caravan and riverboat I heard tales told of it being a hard land with unforgiving wilds patrolled by the only men and women skilled enough to bring some semblance of law and order to a land so untamed and dangerous. I believe this Leif the Woodsman to be such fabled Ranger of the North as I have heard stories told. There was a quality about the man that escapes my limited mastery of language, but can not escape notice of those within his presence. This Leif was a young man of no more then thirty summers, a tall and healthy blue eyed, blonde haired man who despite his sincere sense of cheer about him also had a hardness about him, as if he had been forged strong through many hard winters and countless battles. Almost as particular as the man himself, was what the man carried as his trappings. This Leif wore some sort of scale mail that appeared made of actual scales unlike the small steel plates I have seen such armors made of in the past. In addition to his armor though was the shield and pendants in which he carried. The shield appeared to be made of solid stone with imagery of two dragons locked in battle engaged upon it’s face. The weight of carrying such stone about staggers my mind, let alone how one could making use of such in combat. What I was most curious about though and now regret not asking about were the man’s two pendants hanging plainly as if on display from his belt. One appeared to bear the symbol of Shaundakul God of Travelers, and the other the symbols often known to represent Lathander God of Renewal and the Light of Day.

I regret not making time to have spoken to this Leif about what he had seen in his lifetime, the lessons he had learned as a Ranger of the North, and what has given cause for such a man to make bold display of two patrons about his person. Then again should I had slowed his journey with my questions the Orcs that Poffer and I later spotted in the distance may have instead been upon the road it’s self as we reached that footfall in our journey together towards Rivermoot. Best not to question what if or dwell upon what could have been, better that I return my focus to being where I am now, alone in Rivermoot.

[thinkpig]

Rivermoot... the original "back water village" hehe.

[jmecha]

It has been several days since I traveled to Rivermoot within the company of the Gnome Traveling Merchant Poffer, only to see to my surprise he was catching a river boat for the Sword Coast. In the several days in which I have spent amongst the small population of Rivermoot I have come to learn that his small island of mud within the Rauvin River is beset upon all sides by all manner of monstrous humanoids. Despite the island being little more then mud piled higher then the water line, and monsters that continually threaten the lives of those who live here, the population appears intend upon staying where they are. The only redeemable feature I can see to the location of Rivermoot is the shipping trade the river provides them. Apparently Rivermoot is flush with coin and wealth I would not have suspected possible. Within the wooden walls and amongst the chickens roaming about I have found several well stocked stores of various theme, ranging from Hunting Supplies, Arms and Armor, Paper Goods, and even a small Arcanist’s Store.

Without access to the Vault of Sages to continue my research I have instead been devoting additional hours each day focused on rigorous physical training routines upon and beyond the Cemetery Bridge located west of Rivermoot. I have found that both the old wooden bridge and the uneven terrain beyond it more challenging then training upon the even hard wood floors I am accustomed to. I also believed the bridge and road being out of use do to flooding in that direction would provide my training some level of privacy, I was wrong. It appears one of the local militia, likely one of the men stationed outside Kelevmor’s Temple, took note of my daily activities. As sure water is wet, word of what was seen spread through Rivermoot’s small population and I was approached by the a hin named Marshall Kadalion with a proposition.

I was asked if I would be willing to provide services as a scout gathering news from the rocky terrain north of the village in exchange for generous sums of gold. It would be less then truthful to write that I accepted such to see Rivermoot aided. The truth is that I accepted because I was eager to test myself and explore the wilds. Traveling to Rivermoot and being attacked by a savage wolf was the first time my life was ever truly threatened, and such a thing almost paralyzed my limbs with fear. I would not be such a man that travels through his years living a life of fear.

Instead I would seek out my own fears and strive to overcome them.

[jmecha]

Earlier today I set out to take a life, and by night fall I had taken two. I do not know how I feel about what I have done, nor do I know how one should feel about such a thing.

After performing admirably as Kadalion’s eyes and ears in the wilds about Rivermoot, he asked that I now lend my hands to the small village’s defense. He spoke to me of a tribe of Kobolds that laired nearby as well as explained how one of their numbers has been set to ambush unwary travelers near the Cemetery Bridge. It is not an uncommon occurrence for this tribe to test it’s young warriors in such a manner I was told, and I suspect it is not uncommon for Marshall Kadalion to hire traveling men and women such as myself to see such threats to his own community removed.

I had faced fears and fought with my nerves as I had scaled cliff face and prowled over rocks, struggling to pass neither seen nor heard by the tribes I had been sent to spy upon in previous days. This though was different, I was not asked to pass unnoticed while making notes, I was being asked to visit violence upon one who would see violence visited upon others and I accepted his offer. I did so with the image of the wolf charging me clear in my mind. I did not care that this Kobold was a threat to the unwary, nor did I care for the gold coins offered, I cared only for steeling my nerves against the next wolf that made attempt for my life….I saw this kobold as an opportunity to develop such resolve.

I returned to my small and sparsely furnished room above the Tavern of Rivermoot to prepare. I took time to see my personal effects and cloths packed away in the small pack I have been making use of in my travels. I then laid my pack to rest upon the small room’s bed along side this journal and my Quarterstaff. I did such because I wished to neither leave a mess behind, nor to have my words unread, or to be burdened by the staff as I navigated the rocky terrain towards where I was told the Kobold awaited. I then changed into a fresh set of dark robes I had never before worn and arranged for several small throwing blades to be in ready and waiting reach of my hands.

I remember making eye contact with the Kobold and the hiss he let forth as he charged forward blade in hand ignoring the multiple blades I hurled his way. He was determined to return to his tribe with blood on his blade and that determination made him fearless as he charged. It was as if my eyes could not focus nor could my hands make proper use of themselves as one after another my throwing blades flew everywhere but at their intended mark. When the Kobold finally closed the distance between us he moved to drive his dagger deep and I was fortunate to move fast enough to instead see him lay still with his dagger unstained.

It was then standing above this small broken and scaled frame I realized our roles were not so different. He was but a runt, a youth of his tribe, likely trained cruel for such task yet untested by true mortal peril in battle. We were both here facing each other, not because elders of our community requested such, but because this Kobold and I both wanted to prove to ourselves that we could face such a thing as one another. I studied his large black eyes a moment longer then turned to return to Rivermoot, not victorious, instead uncertain.

It was not a moment later that my head heavy with clouded thoughts returned sharp to this world as a sling bullet whirled audibly pass my ear. With a speed and accuracy I would not thought myself capable of I turned crouching low as I sent to fly one blade after another into the goblin working to reload his sling with fresh stone. As he fell my eyes searched the jagged rock faces for additional ambushers, my hands ready to let fly more steel. When I realized he was but a lone opportunist like drawn by the sounds of battle created by the Kobold and myself not moments ago, I arose and marched back to Rivermoot.

Once inside I plainly reported my success in his request to the Hin and then retired to my room with his gold in hand. I had laid awake for hours and even thought of requesting strong drink to be brought to my room to aid in easing my mind for rest. I know though that such a thing would not change the tomorrow I would awaken to, and instead I took to quill and Ink. Perhaps now that I have scribed what has come to pass I may find some rest this evening.

[NESchampion]

((Really awesome so far, keep it up))

[dergon darkhelm]

I like it, jmecha.

[jmecha]

I have found myself restless since returning to Silverymoon from Rivermoot. I have been distracted with the memory of battle, my mind does not focus upon my studies nor does my heart know calm when I seek rest. I have tasted battle and found it addictive, often my thoughts during the day turn to thoughts of the wolf, kobold, and goblin. I have developed an appetite I do not know how to feed.

[jmecha]

Today I sought out the Clergy of the Foehammer for guidance and told them true of my recent experience in battle and my lust for such. There I was told that the singing of muscles and the thrill of battle I experienced and have since craved is what they call Tempus’s Glorious Gift and that it was natural to seek such after having once experienced it’s thrill. He accepted the small donation I offered in exchange for his time and advice then bid me to seek out my enemies upon the fields of prowess.

I left the Temple and stepped onto the busy streets of and realized, I have no enemies.

[jmecha]

I have thought upon this Glorious Gift of Tempus and my recent desires to bask in it once more and I come to believe this gift is an obstacle in my path and the desire to experience it a burden I need not carry.

[jmecha]

With my arrival to Silverymoon I have been allowed access to the Vault of Sages as well as a tutor in the ancient language of Loross. I sought to study at great centers of learning such as this, though I also sought more then access to a Library and Sages when I left my home. I sought challenge to see myself tested and to explore the true depths of my limitations and capabilities. I set out to see what the Realms may teach me of myself while I sought to learn of them, and in this regard I have found myself lacking direction.

Not only do I not know that which I am capable of yet in this life, I know not what to do with my capabilities. Almost all I have encountered in my life time have lived in service be it to a deity, dogma, country, cause, ideals, or their own desires. I though find my path to be unending crossroads and myself unsure of which direction to take step. I serve not a divine patron, nor a country or cause, I desire not wealth, fortune, or fame. Which alone leaves me with the ideals I hold dear for guidance.

I believe in the ideals of both the Old Order as was shared with me by the monks I had encountered about Waterdeep’s Plinth Tower to All Gods, as well as the lessons of the Shou Tao as shared with me by Chung Tao Cho Chin during the many lessons of my childhood and adolescence. Still though I have found that to keep mind of the lessons of yesterday on the roads I walk today challenge within it’s self.

I find myself at crossroads with desire to step and not knowing which direction in which to travel, ancient wisdoms taught to me and my own youthful ambitions have left me eager to act and to cautious to do so, it is with such a restless union I lay down my quill for this day.

[jmecha]

Today I awaken once more in Rivermoot. I traveled here yesterday with Hawk the Tormish and upon arrival I delivered the missives as was asked of me by the Keeper of the Vault of Sages. The two of us took rest at the table outside the rustic Rivermoot Inn and we spoke of duty, as well as the concepts of good and evil. No mind altering enlightenment was born from our talks but it did lead us to speaking to the Hin, Marshal Kadalion who looked to us for aid. Together Hawk and I set out for the nearby plantations where it was feared orcs maybe preparing for a raid upon the community food stores. As we walked I set to mind a lesson taught to me by Chung Tao Cho Chin, in hopes that it would aid in avoiding the Glorious Gift of Tempus.

Many colors blind the eye.
Many sounds deafen the ear.
Many flavors dull the tongue.
Rare goods tempt men to do wrong.
Excitement races and maddens the mind.


When the two of us did reach the plantation we did greet orc with violence and in the midst of the fighting I once more was over taken by what the clergy of the Foehammer refer to as his Glorious Gift. Every aspect of my being raced and sang out with a pace I would have claimed myself incapable of reaching. I was far from calm or still, I was excited and fully immersed in the thrill of battle as we moved through the plantation grounds and eventual up and over the ridge. Only after the last orc fell did I manage to regain any semblance of calm as I looked over the battle field and realized the severity of my own wounds. It has been said that those of the Old Order and Chung Tao can remain calm in the face of all things, yet I find myself lost to the Glorious Gift of Tempus time and time again.

[thinkpig]

It is really exciting reading this, I am glad I get to be a part of it! Keep it up:)