Journal of Kallun Willendon

[jmecha]

There exist several different Monastic Orders spread across the Realms that I am aware of, and likely several more that I am not. Many of them share similar practices and methods such as dietary requirements, life within a monastery or temple, rigorous physical training. Many of them share a similar goal, which is often to purify themselves and develop a greater sense of spiritual awareness while in service to their deity or cause. I have never lived within temple nor monastery nor have I ever vowed my existence to a patron deity or cause beyond my own quest for understanding and personal perfection.

I am out in the world and here without guidance other then my own, which as of late has been directionless and overwhelmed with the opportunities before me. I believe this is because I have been struggling against myself and my own surroundings instead of embracing them for what they are. The teachings of the Shou Tao and the Old Order need not limit a man to a life of Monastic devolutions atop an unreachable mountain top or to the silence of undisturbed temple sanctuary, they are timeless and without limit. They are just as applicable to a merchant in crowded market as they are to a gambler in a den of thieves, as applicable to the soldier as they are to the Saints of Ilimater. I am out in the Realms and yet I have tried to live as if I was not.

The thrill of battle, the kiss of a pretty maiden, the experiences of the moment are something I have been struggling to live beyond instead of living in. The restlessness and confusion I have known I believe has been born from my struggle against imagined chains of my own making, chains I need not be bound by. No longer will I spend my days within the Vault of Sages looking to taste the realms through tome alone.

[jmecha]

I feel as if I started my journey backwards.

While speaking with an elf I have come to think of as a companion, I found myself complaining that Silverymoon was a city of vast collections of lore and knowledge, easy coin, accessible food and shelter. I was complaining that life in Silverymoon was to easy, and before my words carried on further he interjected with an insight that almost made me laugh out loud. As I complained of the things I did, Umpurrri interjected simply, “I believe that is the idea of civilization.” He was absolutely right and with an accuracy and simplicity that made my previous complaints and confusion laughable.

I arrived to the Gem of the North before my time.

Silverymoon is the sort of city one such as myself may retire to someday to live out what remains of my life sharing what I have learned with others. It is a place where men and women can live in harmony while defended by Magical Wards and sworn defenders and heroes such as the Knights of Silver, and Spell Guard. I set out into the realms seeking to test myself and arrived in the city least likely to put challenge to myself. I set out for the Vault of Sages and found answers to questions I did not have.

Silverymoon is a home for those seeking such, and an opportunity for those with questions to seek answers, and I find myself ill equipped for either. I will set out to leave this Gem of the North and seek instead it’s opposite. I will seek a place that makes a man’s mind ask questions of it’s self, a place where nothing comes easy and all is a struggle for life against death. I do not know where or what this place is, but I will seek it’s troubled grounds and learn to tread across them.

[thinkpig]

Really enjoying following Kallun's story!

If you haven't read William Wordsworth's "expostulation and reply" (short poem) you should check it out, really applies here I think. I am not a big fan of Wordsworth but nevertheless...

here's a link:

http://www.cummingsstudyguides.net/Guid ... ation.html

[Tegid]

I'm enjoying these as well and hope to meet in game someday.

[jmecha]

I have heard of a place where men walk as monsters. I spoke with a well traveled singer of songs by the name of Eli Mamoulian and he has told me of Skuag. He spoke of this place where men sell one another into slavery and consort with the likes of gnoll and orc in open market, he spoke of this place with a gleam of madness in his eye. I would see what this mad man has seen. The Realms are full of a great many things and if I am to understand them or myself I would bear witness to all that I can in my time. I have made plans to travel with this Eli Mamoulian from the Gate of Baldur to this Skuag.

[jmecha]

The friend Eli Mamoulian spoke of was none other then traveling Mercenary Umpurri of Wealdath, an elven warrior I had come to know in my time in the Silver Marches. The three of us planned travel to this Port of Skuag , each with his own purpose and ambitions. I believe Umpurri is seeking merely wealth, while I suspect Eli’s motivations are eerily similar to my own. I seek Skuag to live amongst it’s wreckage, to see if I may survive amongst it’s filth and violence, I seek this port of pestilence to see all of my endurance tested while I gain an education in what is most vile in man. Eli’s mad eyes and words which always carry with them unsettling hints of haunting and hunger though, make me suspect the man so jaded he seeks Skuag to instead throw himself to it’s maw of madness and relish within it.

[jmecha]

“Every day tens of thousands die, one Life means nothing.”
Koryo Warlord Wanang Sun

The road to Skuag was not one walked without price. The men I traveled with were sell swords looking to make grounds wet with blood so they may then reap gold and jewels from killing fields. For days I traveled with them as we left behind us a litany of violence and death. In the Cloak Woods we slaughtered goblin after goblin, taking from the dead what baubles and valuables were worth carrying to market for gold. Upon the Isles of Alaron and Gwynneth we sought out pirates hiding in wilderness lairs so we may bring to them slaughter in exchange for their horded riches. Every step of my journey to Skuag was one walked in the blood. I write this below deck upon a small ship that carries to port in Skuag now. I write this tired and weary of the violence of my journey, I feel distant from myself and the world around me in ways I never have. I feel numb and I wonder if there is truth to Warlord Wanang Sun’s words. If my recent days have been the price of admission to Skuag, I must ask myself in horror what is the price of residency in such a place as I have yet to see.

[thinkpig]

Wow. Very nice, Kallun in Skaug is a lot more interesting than I'd have imagined. And it is extremely satisfying to see Eli through Kallun's eyes...

[jmecha]

After a few days of live amongst the streets of Skuag and sleeping the common quarters of the Hostel I took a reprieve from the port of pestilence. I traveled to Gwynneth in hopes that some time amongst the Ffolk there would allow my mind an opportunity to rest and recover from the filth it partook of in Skuag’s streets. I am writing this now while bed ridden in Dultann along the shores of the Myrloch Lake. I believe several of my ribs cracked, some of them broken in more then one place.

While partaking of the sights and sounds of Corwell I encountered a Dwarven native of the Island by the name of Kager who bore upon his shield the symbol of Moradin the Soul Forger. This Kager had an aura about him, the glow of zeal and dedication to an ideal far larger then himself that brought life to his eyes unlike any I have seen in the face of another save for my encounters with the Knight of Silver Alyra Ashedown of Silverymoon. Our initial encounter was not one of banter, but two men two men from different places trying to make a study of the other. I made not of this Dwarf’s armor and it’s markings as well as empty tankard he waved about as he talked, he in turn I do not doubt took note of my old durable robes covered in trail dust and stitch work from various mending. Once I expressed to him my desire to walk the island he volunteered himself as not only a guide but a defender who would guarantee my safety as I explored the Isle.

Together we saw the ruins of what was once Machseehan and he spoke of the war that once was between the Ffolk and the Northmen of the other Isles. From there we sought to cross the Fen of the Fallen so I may then go on to see the mountains that he and the other Dwarves of the Isle knew as home. It was while crossing through the filth of the Fen we came across the Firblog that nearly ended my journey. The Firblog came upon us and before I as aware of what was taking place, Kager had greeted the giant with a thrown axe and already had taken steps to charge the charger. The two locked into a melee that appeared almost choreographed, the dwarves defender moving swift and sure footed beneath the swings of the giant Firblog while lashing back with attack of his own from behind his shield of beard and steel. Witnessing a true dwarven warrior in battle against the likes of a Firblog was as if I was watching a timeless conflict unfold before me, and for a moment that seem seemed without time, I found myself in awe.

The reality of the Firblog’s wild and crashing swings though returned to my mind as Kager was nearly crushed, and I moved to aid my Dwarven companion in his fight. I moved swiftly over the filth of the fen and set to laying blow after blow into the giant’s lower back, each of my attacks meant for specific places that would render the giant immobile if only for a moment. My fists made contact one after another and the Ogre actually howled out in pain, but it’s thick course hide and the sheer thickness of it’s muscles kept my blows from achieving the intended effect. My last memory of the battle was the Firblog turning to face me and it’s club coming at me hard and fast like an inescapable tide.

When I awoke the Firblog laid still and lifeless beside me and Kager stood over me chanting in the tongue of his people. I was dazed by my own pain and the confusion of having been without my senses for what may have been a moment or minutes. I do not remember what Kager spoke to me as he moved to aid me to my feet, but the Dwarf Kager held true to his promise of seeing me defended well while I explored his home Isle.

Eventually with Kager’s aid I made it as far as this bed in Dultann where I write and await my recovery. This Dwarf…he asked nothing in return for his efforts, and refused any offer of reward, if anything he appeared disappointed that his companion was to broken to continue on to see his people’s home upon the mountains.

[jmecha]

The streets of Skuag are a crooked and uneven perilous thing, to walk them unaware is to invite injury. Often the residence of the port toss the contents of their chamber pot from the window onto the street, several times I have witnessed such performed as if sport to see who or what flying filth may fall upon. One is as likely to find need to step over unconscious drunkard as they are corpse as the roads are walked. I have seen the city guard brutally beat men to death, I have seen gangs of violent eyes spilling out of the taverns and roaming the streets looking hungry for blood to spill with cruel and curved blades in hand, be they hands of man, orc, or gnoll. I myself was recently assaulted by four men looking make short work of what they must have thought an easy mark, a lone pilgrim unarmed and in robes. To wander Skuag is a thing more dangerous then the wilds of untamed lands. When in the wilds a man may move unmolested if he knows rightly how to pay proper respect to the wild life around him, here though in a place such as Skuag no amount of respect or reverence for one’s fellow man can or will keep one’s fellow man from seeking to put blade to blood over so little as a few coppers or the last drink of swill left in a bottle.

[jmecha]

Today I was invited to bare witness to a meeting held between two men. One is a man of wealth with gold in reach of his hands and silver within his beard. The other is a man of means who keeps steel within his reach and iron behind his eyes. The older man, the man of wealth invited me to join the pair, he claimed he had been impressed with my fending off attackers in the city streets with no more then my hands. I sat and watched the men talk at some length about the terms of what maybe their arrangement, neither suffered poor form upon the other. There was no raising of voice or attempts made to talk in circles, neither man bothered to make attempts at deceiving the other…the pair simply sat and shared with each other what they would see provided from the other.

Towards the end of their talk my opinion upon the matter was asked for and I found myself with little to offer. The pair had already come to an agreement that appeared reasonable and to the like of each of them. I offered the pair a warning that investing into and looking to lead a company of mercenaries was not without it’s inherit risks. When all was eventually said and done for the day between the pair I was offered a place within this new company of mercenaries.

Often in my youth my father preached on behalf of the acquisition of material wealth, not for the materials themselves, but for what a man could do with such wealth. My father would often laugh at men who worshipped gold and coin and let greed for such cloud their minds. He was a man of Waterdeep’s markets and a devout worshipper of his goddess Waukeen. Almost as often as I heard my Father make praise to the acquiring of material goods and possessions I heard Chung Tao Cho Chin explain how material wealth was little more then a burden upon the back of a man looking to walk his path.

I accepted the Banites offer to join his Mercenary Company.

Even Masters like Chung Tao Cho Chin need a means to put rice to their table daily.

[jmecha]

My thoughts have been to the people I have encountered along my journey and the gods they worship.

I wonder how many of them took to serving their patron deities out of family traditions, which of them chose their patron deity, who amongst them were instead chosen by their patrons amongst the gods?

The relationships others have with the gods has been a curious thing for me ever since I was a child. My family always worshipped Wuakeen above any other, and even as a boy it struck me as a hollow thing to give prayer and worship to this goddess. When it comes to guidance in matters of market place and the business of wealth one would be hard pressed to seek better advice then that can be found within Waukeen’s Doctrines, yet does such move others to true faith and devotion?

What does it say about the Realms that there exists a Goddess of Wealth and Market Place?

Did we and our concern for our business affairs create this goddess, or did this goddess create business and our concerns for it?

[jmecha]

Several times I have been asked what it is that I believe, and several times I have failed to find words to tell true what it is I believe.

The truth is what was once the Old Order now exists as little more then scattered fractured fragments of what was, with every individual set upon their own path with only what scrapes of lore were passed down to them and themselves for guidance. What was once an Order dedicated to the ideal of man’s self development to become more then he is, to become as he could be, has turned into a myriad number of things across the realms. There exist those who would claim it is the responsibility of the Order to show to the world through example what man can be capable, to act as inspirations and guides to others. While others claim it is the right of those who have developed themselves beyond other men to walk amongst them as god like beings shaping the world as they will, making use of their strength over others who are weak.

I myself cling to the one idea that all members of the Old Order I have met in my lifetime share, man can if he chooses tread a path of discipline and self forging, that if endured may allow discovery of more then who he is, he may come to be as he was meant to be. I care little for the gods or their battles, or the struggle between good and evil, or what I may change in this world for better or worse. This world, the gods, the people of it, wealth and power, such things are little more then distractions and temptations that may lead a mind from focusing upon one’s own self development. I will seek out the challenges of this lifetime be they mental, physical, or spiritual, and look to push myself, test myself, and challenge myself, for no reason other then such steps are those that need to be taken upon my own path that leads from who and what I am now towards who and what I may be.

[jmecha]

**The journal laid on the nightstand beside the bed and gathered dust, while Kallun sat cross legged on the floor and collected his thoughts.**


He felt every muscle twitch and every racing beat of his heart as the numerous swirling thoughts did another lap around his mind. They cut at him like crystal shards and broken glass flung about and flying wild through the air by the unseen hands of a storm. His mind was splintered and stretching out in multiple directions many of which were frustrating, confusing, or both. He himself was frustrated with and confused by his own frustrations and confusions.


**Pains that had once been ignorable caught his full attention like the bite of a thorn in one’s foot as weight is shifted upon it, and such displeased him.**

What had happened that he should find himself pained and bothered by the likes of Rag’s and his insistence on wearing a mask. What did it matter if the man insisted on wearing a mask? What did it matter how difficult it made drinking mead or taking in a meal for the man?

What did it matter Sylvaine’s thoughts on religion in relations to the actions of others? Why did their inability to come to anything resembling an agreement bother him as much as it did?

Mistress Pathra speaking down to him condescending him for not having somehow made her rag tag teams of misfits infallible in their actions, as if it were his fault that investigation turned to butchery, and butchery left a trail? Was any of that his fault or his responsibility? What does her opinion on such truly matter anyway?


What was it about this Marcus Wands? Why feel compelled to see this man returned his mind? What did it matter to Kallun if this Marcus Wands was feeble minded or not? Thought his own thoughts or accepted the thoughts of others or not?

Thoughts of Ramunas throwing apples at the bard on stage struggling through his performance. Thoughts of the drunkard in the crowd heckling the performance causing discord and strife where before there was none.

These things and more made Kallun’s fists clench tight with frustration, anger, and confusion…….all feelings which only further frustrated, angered, and confused Kallun for his feeling them at all.

**Sweat trickled down his brow and his eyes slowly opened, Kallun glared at the wall across from where he sat in his room and he felt the urge to charge through it rending it asunder with his hands.**

** He felt the urge to not only go through that wall, but all things.**

**He remained seated cross legged on the wooden floor of his small room in Skuag and closed his eyes once more as he drew another deep breath**

[jmecha]

**His bottom was sore from sitting so long upon it, so he got to his feet and stretched**

None of it mattered, not to him, or at least none of it should matter. The noble woman’s opinions, the strange man’s mask, the older woman’s troubles, the wizard’s mind, Ramunas’s ability to be abrasive in all things….none of this should matter to Kallun and yet often he found himself caught up in such nonsense, such distractions, and without fail realizing that he had allowed himself to be distracted only further frustrated him and left him doubting his course and himself.

It was an easy thing to lose focus in this lifetime, being a student of the Old Order did not make him immune to such. Without a mentor or a guide, without a companion in his journey across the map of ancient techniques and teachings, who was there to remind him to stay the course, who was there to count upon beside himself to stay true to the path?

**He slowly turned to focus his gaze upon the dog eared and dusty tome that laid neglected on his nightstand**