27th of Highsummer

At midmorning we arrived in Seaport. We were within the borders of the Celestine Empire once again at last. We did not stay in Seaport long, deciding to head out to Tristen immediately. Crespin stayed behind as the captain of the ship was going to sell off the loot from the ship and give us a cut of the profits. Crespin was the only one that cared, the rest of us decided that we had better get back to Tristen sooner than later.

28th of Highsummer

We arrived in Tristen in the evening. The place has become more of a fortress than it had been previously. The two defensive walls that had long since provided actual protection have been broken down into components for a much more fortified, and therefore protective wall. The gates were also new. And to make things even less familiar, the walls were manned by Imperial soldiers alongside the local Tristen soldiers.

Surely we had not been gone so long that the town can change so completely. What has happened here? Is the threat of war become such that it is no longer a question of “if” but of “when”? The place that I grew up and considered to be peaceful has seemingly become a place of war.

We were allowed to pass through the gates. We went directly to City Courthouse, the location of the job that we had been working on for the past couple of months. We left a message with someone there for us to arrange a meeting with our employer, Edmond Otto.

We then went to the MerchantÂ’s Last, our seeming headquarters. We all went there for a meal. It sure beat the crap we have been eating on the roads or the ship. Mort decided to get himself a room instead of going back home for the night. I have no idea why, but Mort is Mort so it is better to just let him do his thing and keep the comments to yourself. Or at least keep quiet until he is not around to get angry. Did I ever mention how I much prefer Celestine food to the Silothreni slop that we ate when we were there? If not, I do. If I already did, well too bad, this is a reminder.

After the meal I bid goodnight to my companions and went home to Henrik. He looked noticeably older than when I had last seen him. The past few months have been very hard on him. His contract with the military has kept him very busy. I gave him the large cache of arrows that I had made in my very plentiful spare time on the ship, and what extra arrows I had made while traveling on foot. He was very appreciative of my thoughtfulness, and he admired my work, and yet pointing out how I could have made some improvements here and there. At first I felt my eyes start to roll, but I realized that he does indeed have a good point and even though I am good at the craft, my bowyer skills are nothing compared to his. I am the better archer, however. At least, I think he has not just been allowing me to win. He wouldnÂ’t do that, right?

Henrik asked me if I was coming back. Not just temporarily, but back permanently. I told him that sadly I am not. I have things to do. He asked me what those might be, but I am sure that he already knew the answers before I told him. I told him that for one thing, I have found that I rather enjoy the work with my companions. Not only is it profitable, but it is a way for me to improve not only myself but my own skills and capabilities. And for another, I have made a vow that I will rescue my family, his family, and my friends Shadrii and Zaras. I told him that I am certain that my companions can help me to do this.

And I brought up that this vow has caused me to consider many things, and I need some honest answers from him. No more of that crap that he would tell me quickly just to avoid the topic when I was younger. I am a man now. I deserve the truth, and I need it in order to fulfill my vow.
Henrik was vague on the details, but a lot more open than was usual, and what I gathered was that I was abducted by slavers, along with my parents and HenrikÂ’s daughter. That Night, as he refers to it, Henrik had attempted to rescue his daughter, who was killed in the ordeal, but he did manage to rescue me. He muttered something about his daughter taking a liking to me, which is what got her killed. He was seriously injured in the fighting and that is why he has a slight limp in his right leg. The healers fixed it, but it isnÂ’t perfect. He believes that the government was aware of the kidnappings, but did nothing. Henrik knew my parents as acquaintances, and at least new my name. He refused to elaborate any more at this time.

I did press a bit more and asked him why my birthday has been celebrated on the 14th of Highsummer. He revealed that is the date of That Night. I asked him how old he thought I was when he rescued me. He thought that I was four, and therefore chosen the year of 1960 as my birth year. He has never been sure, however, as I was traumatized and not very helpful on the matter.

Naturally, the talk went back to his own business, the crafting and selling of fine bows and arrows – none of that cheap crap that most people seem to be content to believe suitable as weaponry. Obviously, I was meant to be his apprentice. My change in careers has seriously hampered his plans, but he claims that he is not angry at my for the path that I have chosen. He is thinking about picking up a new apprentice since I am going to be gone all of the time. I can still think of this as home, and any help that I can lend is as welcome as always. I told him that I will do what I can about helping with a new apprentice. I don’t think that he believes that I will be able to help in that regard, especially if I am gone all of the time, and he is right about that, but I meant it. I know that he is grateful that I still want to help his business to succeed.

He did admit that he supposes that adventuring has some advantages, but heÂ’d prefer if my adventures kept me home a bit more. He also cautioned that I have to be careful about what jobs that I take as I donÂ’t ever really know my employers. Working for the city is one thing. Working for a stranger is another. I thanked him for the advice. There is something in that which makes me think that there is more to what he is saying. As usual, he knows more than he is telling me. Dammit, I hate that.

I went to bed in the room that has been mine for as long as I can remember. Well, almost. I have some brief memories of somewhere else, with glimpses of other people. My parents. Children, too. Siblings, perhaps?

29th of Highsummer

I went back to the MerchantÂ’s Last. I spent time with my companions until Otto was both ready and willing to meet with us. Crespin arrived in town around noon.

In the afternoon we were met by a messenger who told us that we could speak with him. We went to Otto, discussed our adventures, carefully omitting any talk of Phoenix, gave him the head of the Fallen, and the Silothreni document. He thanked us for a job well done and paid us 1500 copper each. Not much, but we got a lot more money during the mission, not to mention our wonderful equipment.

We decided that we should become an official mercenary outfit. After some discussion, we decided that Griswold would be our leader, and we had him retain his rank as Sergeant. We were from that point on to be known as GriswoldÂ’s Irregulars. As per CrespinÂ’s request, we talked with his friend, Larry Bond, about any comments that he had about working as a mercenary unit. He has some good insight on the matter that helped us.

We were given another mission by Otto. We were to seek out and destroy the two remaining wraiths and their respective undead armies. We were to set out the next morning.

30th of Highsummer

We set out to slaughter the wraiths and their undead armies. Months ago this would have been something that I wouldnÂ’t even dream of doing. And now I have sent so many undead back to their graves that I have replaced my fear of them with a loathing and hatred for them and their creators.

We were accompanied by a group of 10 veteran soldiers. They did not seem to respect us very much, considering us as lesser soldiers, a sort of rabble militia. I supposed that they were right for the most part. Only Griswold and Vance had been actual soldiers. The rest of us were “townsfolk”. Well, who knows about “Stitch” (Schmendrick).

At first I was excited to be working alongside career soldiers. I am pretty sure that my enthusiasm only added fuel to their bias towards us, especially towards me. They called me things like “pretty boy” and asserted that although I carry a fancy sword and bow, and wear fancy armor, I had probably never been in a real battle. Some claimed that they had heard rumors to the contrary, but found many of them hard to believe, especially while looking at our disorganized and very laid-back approach to everything. They were all so orderly and efficient, much like they had a spear up their respective asses. I think that they were showing off with all of their marching in formation and their orders and “yes, sirs”.

Thankfully, Griswold did not even attempt to get us to act like soldiers. He didnÂ’t make us march like they were, didnÂ’t make us say any silly crap, and didnÂ’t make us call him Sergeant. Either he thought that we were better than that, or he figured it would have been a lost cause had he attempted it. Better to not try in front of these perfectionists and screw it up, making things even worse.

Most of the Month of Wanetide

Vance tracked down the first group of undead. After he had scouted out the enemy, Griswold and the leader of the soldiers made tactical plans. It was evident that the soldiers would be their own unit, separate from our own. They viewed us as expendable assets. Meat for the grinder that kept their own lives safe. Griswold spoke with the leader harshly, as if he were angry at some child. The man was apparently new to his leadership and had never actually fought undead before. Griswold presented a tactical plan that would use us all as one single cohesive unit. His plan worked, and our group of “militia” grossly outfought these professional soldiers. I fought with my usual flare for tricky shots and brilliant swordsmanship.

It was not until after the battle that I realized that the soldiers had been watching me. I wondered silently if they were watching me and my allies more than they were actually fighting. These guys were veterans? Oh, how I would have hated to see new soldiers fight. To think that they had held us in contempt. And to think that I had wanted to be a soldier. Why would I want to be a soldier? I would have to be merely mediocre in my combat skills. I should have known this was the case, as I have seen Vance fight. No offense to the guy, he is a great tracker and very perceptive, but he just canÂ’t put up a good fight. Maybe he is too busy taking note of how many nose hairs that his opponent has instead of fighting.

Vance tracked down the second group of undead. This wraith had been more efficient than the previous one in amassing its army. The other army was big, but this one was huge. To make things worse, this wraith was a tactical genius by comparison. We won, with only one casualty, a man that wanted to be like Crespin. I will call him Mr. Holes, as he we found him so full of arrows and cuts that it was hard to identify him. The soldiers said that his name was Erik.

The soldiers had nicknames for many of us. Vance, they called him Bloodhound like we do. Griswold, they called him Sir. I believe that they meant this as a sign of respect, but it seemed to be overdramatic to me. They called me Deadeye, especially when Crespin would continue to bring up the tale of how I shot him in the eye. I continue to point out that I didnÂ’t shoot him but that demon bitch. I donÂ’t shoot someone unless I intend to. If I miss, it is because of the magical defenses of my target.

28th of Wanetide

We arrived back in Tristen and got paid 1600 copper each. As I had known that I was going into a big battle, I had taken a lot of extra arrows with me, but I had made others to keep me busy while we traveled. I gave Henrik the all of the arrows that exceeded my usual quiver of 60. He thanked me, and reminded me yet again that he has still yet to find a suitable apprentice.

Mort and I went with Crespin to see his friend, James Bond. He was training with the soldiers in Sparring Field. Crespin talked Mort into sparring with James. James thought that it would be too easy, and told Crespin that, but Crespin insisted. Finally, he accepted to spar with Mort. Mort won, using a shield in one hand and his normally two-handed axe in the other hand. It was amusing to see the look on JamesÂ’ face when he saw Mort maneuver his axe in one hand like that.

After James was rested up sufficiently, I challenged him to spar with me. He at first declined, thinking of me as a weakling or something. I know that he had always seen me as weak and lesser, the object of Slaine’s bullying. But things have changed. I have grown up a lot. After a lot of insisting by both Crespin and me, he finally accepted. It was way too easy. I bested him with a lot of skill and even more grace. The look on his face as I parried his attacks, evaded his blows, feinted, and counter-attacked in ways that were obviously beyond his own skill was priceless. He muttered something about having been tired already, but he knew that I knew that I beat him fairly. I am certain that he will be re-thinking his previous opinions of me. I gave him back the wooden sword that I was using and thanked him for the minor workout. He accepted it, slack-jawed with a look of disbelief as I walked off. The nearby soldiers that watched it could not help but laugh. I am certain that they do not know of the irony of the situation, and if they did I wondered if they would still laugh as loudly, or maybe not even louder. I called out to them as I walked off, “And I am just the archer of the group”.

Mort, Crespin, and I walked off towards where the rest of our companions were. We had been offered a mission by a city official, named Leonold. The mission seemed strange in its simplicity. We were to escort his daughter, Reena, to visit with her Grandmother. It would take us a day-and-a half to travel there on foot. Strange a mission as it may be, it would be easy and give us both money and prestige as a mercenary outfit.

29th of Wanetide

Our group, consisting of Crespin, Darby, Griswold, Lydia, Mort, Stitch, Vance, and myself arrived at ReenaÂ’s home. She looked us over, already knowing about some of us. Crespin, she saw as a sex-crazed pervert. Mort, she looked over with scrutinizing eyes, perhaps thinking of him as a rapist. And me. She looked me up and down, and I could almost see her wondering why I was there, a supposed coward that is more concerned for his handsomeness and life than risking injury. Mort assured her that I had saved his life on more occasions than he can count. She scrutinized me again, and then shrugged, probably not sure what to think.

She talked on the way. A lot. She is of Silothreni descent, and she is going to become a judge in the city of Tristen. She needs to speak with her Grandmother and do some things in the town. She talked to Mort a lot, and I stayed out of it. Better to not become the target of her inquisition. Mort and Vance jabbered with her in that Silothreni language, too.

30th of Wanetide

In the afternoon we arrived in the village. And I had thought that the Second Largest City in Phoenix was small. Damn. This place is really small. We went to GrandmotherÂ’s House. There were many people inside the home, all of them of mixed-Silothreni heritage. We were social for a little while, but then we were politely asked to leave while they did some sort of religious thing. I had hoped that I would see the last of that when we were in that country, but I should have known better. Oh well, I guess that I had better get used to it. As long as they donÂ’t make me do any of that three-session garden crap I will be happy.

Outside some guy walked up to Vance and challenged him to a duel, claiming that Vance had wronged him. I watched the fight, aghast at such a poor display of swordsmanship. The man won, and announced that he could then duel with Crespin. VanceÂ’s response was a sword hilt to the manÂ’s head, dropping him unconscious.

Someone woke him up, and Crespin remained with him while most of the others walked off to see what else this excuse for a village had to offer. I stayed and watched the fight. This time there was a much better display of swordsmanship. Crespin won, and the man told him that his name is Jim.

After we regrouped in what they would call a tavern here, we went back to GrandmotherÂ’s house and checked it over for security purposes. Grandmother allowed us to use two of the bedrooms as our quarters. Lydia would share a room with Reena. I was to take watch with Griswold. It is amazing that Griswold and I had such a difficult start, but now we have a bond of mutual loyalty and friendship. And besides, when it comes down to it we are both callous individuals, so we can be mean to others together.

At about 9:30 in the evening we went with Reena to visit the graveyard that the village uses. She had to be there by 10:00, and something special was supposed to happen at midnight. As expected, it was fairly small, and had a short, broken down iron fence that surrounded it.

Reena went over to a broken down mausoleum while we spread out to make a perimeter. She did her religious stuff. After a while a bluish ghost appeared at the mausoleum. He called her “Gina” and asked her what she had brought for him. She said that she had not brought anything, and he then asked us what we had brought. He wondered if we had any armor for him. He spoke in Celan with a slight accent. His name is Therin.

The ghost looked at Stitch and asked him to perform some magic. Stitch declined, stating that he had no idea how to do such a thing. The ghost looked unconvinced, then shrugged, and asked Mort if he would cast a spell. Mort at first looked shocked to be asked to cast a spell, but then created a candle flame that floated in the air. The ghost asked him if that was the best that he could do, and Mort said that it indeed was the only spell that he knows. The ghost was not impressed, and muttered something about the lack of power of wizards these days.

Mort then got him to start rambling about the problem with kids these days, but I tuned it out. I am pretty sure that the rest of us didnÂ’t listen, either. I think that Reena talked to him some more, but it was in that Silothreni language, so I have no idea what they talked about.

Just as I was starting to get very, very bored, Vance pointed out that there was someone approaching the cemetery. I got my bow ready and took position to shoot them as soon as I could see them. How can Vance see so good in the dark?

Vance pointed out that the figures had gotten closer. There were four men that were wearing chainmail and carrying very large shields. A man , probably one of the four, called out to Mort and said that they were after Reena and that they meant us no harm. My response to this was an arrow that I fired at one of the men. There must have been some sort of magic in his area as I missed, my arrow flying over his head.

Stitch told me that the man is named Jack. As if that meant anything to me. I shrugged and got another arrow ready. Good thing that I can do it so fast, as Mort yelled for me to come over to where he was. I ran over, and he told me to shoot a bird that was on top of a mausoleum maybe 10 feet above us. It replied by taking flight. Too bad that it was not fast enough. My arrow knocked it out of the air, killing it. Out of spite, I hoped that it was some enemy wizardÂ’s familiar.

As I readied another arrow, Stitch pointed out the location of an enemy archer. The direction was different than the four soldiers. I got a glimpse of someone and fired. I hit, pinning him to a tree as I heard the “thwack” of the arrow hit a trunk.

While I readied another arrow, I spotted another archer. StitchÂ’s floating sword flew past me, ahead of me going from my left to my right, attacking some unseen foe beyond the wall of the mausoleum that I was using for cover towards my right.

Whatever, StitchÂ’s sword can fight with whoever is over there. Meanwhile, I had an archer to shoot. I hit him in the vitals and he fell back. StitchÂ’s sword then went past me towards someone to my forward left. This time I could see what it was fighting, or not as it seemed to be fighting something that was invisible.

At this point, an explosion went off at my far left. GriswoldÂ’s magic was probably blowing those four soldiers apart. Too bad for them.

I got shot by an arrow in my left arm, the arm that holds my bow. There was an icy chill as my arm felt numb from cold. The arrow had some flecks of ice on it. Cool. Literally. I cursed, and slung my bow up over my left arm and drew my sword with blinding speed with my right hand. It is a good thing that I am ambidextrous. Many times have I fought with bow still in one hand as I battle with sword in the other, only to put my sword back to fire more arrows.

I got shot again, this time by a normal, as in non-icy, arrow that hit my in the torso. I ran over to where I think that the enemy of StitchÂ’s sword was located and slashed to where I thought that he might be. I didnÂ’t connect with anything, however.

I then got out some of my Dust of Disappearance so that I could make myself invisible. I didnÂ’t want to be a target for these archers, and I wanted to go kill those enemy archers with my sword. As I was readying my dust, one of those four soldiers ran up to me and slashed at me with his sword, but missed. I then turned invisible and moved to the side so that he would not know where I was. I maneuvered to his side and stabbed him, dropping him.

I then ran over to where the enemy archers were hiding. My plan was to kill whoever had shot me. Probably from two different archers. No matter, I would just kill anyone that was over there. As I got near the fence, I did the most spectacular acrobatic jump that anyone could ever hope for. I think that only the enemies that can see invisible could see it, but no matter as perhaps they would be intimidated that I was the spinning, acrobatic death coming for them.

I saw a woman with a bow. She saw me. That is why I mentioned above “the enemies that can see invisible”. She pointed her bow at me, and there was someone else behind the tree near her. I ran in a way that put a tree in between us, hoping to outmaneuver her or at least avoid being shot.

My plan didnÂ’t work as I had hoped. She shot at me, but I skillfully dodged her arrow. It was good to know that my targets are not the only ones to dodge an arrow. I charged at her, swung my sword at her, and she dodged it.

I head someone yell “Regroup!”. I shrugged, and slashed into her. I swung again, perhaps a bit too hard as my sword went flying out of my hand. Maybe she was protected by some sort of magic. It is a good thing that my sword is connected to me by a metal lanyard so it did not go far. As I was spinning to recover my sword, an arrow got me in the vitals, and I felt that same icy cold as it bit into me. She and four others then disappeared.

I found the arrow that had hit a tree. I must have seen an illusion of a man, as there was nobody impaled there, nor any blood. I broke that arrow so that nobody would be the wiser that I was so deceived.

Darby and Griswold healed my wounds, and I kept the three arrows as souvenirs. We had three prisoners. As I had figured, these men had been from Tristen. The icy archer womanÂ’s name was Korina. She is an archer in the Imperial army.

One of the prisoners was Jack, a soldier from Tristen. Another was a mage named Andrew that Griswold ordered me to break the fingers of. I did so with the pommel of my sword, smashing his fingers onto the ground as I did so, snapping the bones.

We drug the prisoners to GrandmotherÂ’s House. After Reena talked to her, Grandma allowed us to keep them prisoner in her cellar. We had to move some things out first to do so, however. It was annoying but not too bad. It was good to remind the others that just because I am as skinny as I am, I am stronger than all but Mort and Crespin.

1st of Suntide

I awoke to the sound of Crespin yelling that the prisoners had escaped. After some investigation, it was deduced that they had teleported away. I shrugged and went back to bed, as it was early into Crespin’s watch. How he could let them teleport away with him watching them…

2nd of Suntide (Continued)

While most of us remained at Crespin's house, a knock came upon the door about an hour before midnight. It was Darby, and he was not happy. He had been with Vance and Willy when they had been ambushed. They had located what they believe to be the base of operations for that nosy wizard, and incidentally, the bandits.

Mort, Griswold, Crespin, and I left on horseback to give the details to the local guardsmen. We were received by a long-time friend to Griswold, an imperial officer named Jared. We told him our findings, and he led us and several of his men out to locate and destroy the hideout, with Darby as our guide.

Griswold and Mort rode on their older horses, and I rode on my young horse, Brigand. Crespin marched with Jared's footmen. At some point, Stitch had caught up to us by teleporting to our location. Willy was probably with us somewhere, remaining invisible. He often scouts around for Stitch. I sometimes wonder to myself what he would do were he ever to lose his floating light that goes by the name of Willy.

We arrived on site, and it looked like the previous owners had made a hasty retreat. Our forces had been detected while enroute. Some of Jared's soldiers found traps the hard way, while others found the traps before the traps found them.

Someone managed to find a way to an underground passage. Within the caverns we had found twelve prisoners that were chained to a column that had a big magic ball on top that radiated green energy. Stitch said that it was draining energy from the people, and one of the prisoners yelled at us, telling us to get back, that it was a trap.

I was tempted to shoot either the prisoners or the magic ball, but everyone was ordered out of the area except Stitch and five of Jared's mages. The rest of us headed back to Tristen.

3rd of Suntide

As we got closer to Tristen, we saw that part of it was on fire. We made haste, those of us on horseback grateful for that fact and charging forward with an adrenaline rush. Crespin had mounted up with Mort.

What we arrived to see was something that definitely was not to be expected. There was a demon that was causing much mayhem and destruction.

The demon was 30 feet tall, massively built, with huge bat-wings. It was flying around the place, burning everything in the vicinity, and charming people into fighting other people as it did so with glee. There were some guardsmen that were trying to do battle with the demon, and others that were trying to fight the fires and fight off the charmed citizenry.

Our group joined in the battle against the demon. While I was tempted to take down any people that attacked us, I recalled the fate of Chivalry. So, instead of trying to kill them in self-defense, I chose a more defensive plan. I made good use of my acrobatics and climbing skills. I also shot arrows to incapacitate people, a favorite tactic being to pin clothing to walls or other large objects. I did my best to cause as little real injury as possible. Meanwhile, I did my best to slay the demon. I think that I made it very very angry with me when I pinned its balls together.

It took us about an hour to finally destroy the demon. Stitch and his Banish spell would have been very handy. Where was he anyway? Hmmm, I hoped to myself that he had made it out of that so-called trap.

I looked around at the carnage. There was a lot of suffering and collateral damage. The flames were everywhere, and I had briefly wished that I had brought along some marshmallows. I scanned around the area for a moment, but none were to be located. I shrugged to myself and joined the others so that we could go back to recover Stitch together.

We arrived to find Darby leaning wearily on a tree. He had been digging for survivors, using the power of his god to do so. He had recovered eight people so far. Of those eight, only two still alive, although they wouldn't be for long if they were not healed soon. They were Stitch, and one of Jared's imperial mages, named Josias. Griswold declared that he could not use his magic in this area. We put a screaming Stitch on Mort's horse, and I put Josias' unconscious body on mine. After we had rode out for about a mile, Griswold had us stop, and he healed Stitch and Josias. Some of Jared's soldiers took Josias back to their quarters, and the rest of us went back to Darby.

Darby had managed to locate the remaining people, all of them dead. We all then went back to Tristen. We split up, each going to check on places that mattered most to us. I stopped by the Merchant's Last, and it was untouched. I then went to Henrik's shop to go to bed. It, too, was not harmed. Henrik had some minor injuries, apologizing that he was not as good as he used to be. He must feel that he has to live up to my reputation for having a high degree of physical prowess and martial skill. It felt awkward having him seem to feel like he had to comare to me. It isn't his fault that he is not as perfect as I am.

As I was about to go to bed, he told me that Slaine had been standing outside of the shop. After a while of Slaine just standing there, looking like the idiot that he is, Henrik went out to ask him what his business was. Slaine replied that he was looking for me, and then he skulked off. That was strange, as Slaine had always been sure to have others with him. I have never seen him alone. He would only attempt to bully me when he had at least two or three friends with him. I would have loved to meet him alone; it would be his last time alive. With this thought, I went to sleep.

In the afternoon I dragged myself out of bed and headed over for the Merchant's Last. Roger gave me a strange look, but I shrugged and sought Vance. I found Vance, and asked him for help with tracking down Slaine. In a rude manner Vance brushed me off, telling me that he had found a new position, that he was heading out tomorrow. Some friend he is, and I stormed out, slamming the door. Good riddance.

I grumbled on my way to Crespin's house, kicking over a vase that had somehow missed this morning's battle. Its crash brightened my mood somewhat. Crespin's house was in definite need of repair. I told him about Slaine and Vance. His response was that of giving me a hammer. I shrugged and helped him rebuild his family's home.

After Crespin and I finished what we could do for the house, we went over to the Merchant's Last. He made jokes on the way while he rode on Brigand behind me. It is good to have a friend at my back, and his jokes can always brighten my mood.

We arrived at the Merchant's Last to find that Griswold, Mort, and Stitch were already there, sitting in our usual area. Stitch was almost in tears. Something was really weighing him down. But what are friends for? We got him drunk. While I drink very little alcohol, as I don't like to lose control of myself, I figured that he needed it. Besides, it was funny. Even Roger, with his strange glances at me, was helping it go along by giving him a free drink.

Why was he looking at me like he knew something that I don't. I noticed after a while that Mort would look at me in a similar way after the two of them exchanged glances and smiled at each other. I was tempted to ask them what the hell was going on, and finally after resisting the urge I finally gave in. Their response was something about a girl named Angel. As if that should mean anything to me, I don't know anyone named Angel. The only one that I am interested in is Shadrii, should I ever find her again. And I will...

I shrugged and went on with my meal when Roger said that she would be back here at the inn soon enough. Whatever. Jerks. This Angel had apparently arrived, as Mort got all excited and got her attention and asked her to come to our area. He had a big-ass grin on his face, and I made an "I really don't give a damn" face at him as my back was to the door.

The others looked surprised. So I finally gave in and turned around. What I saw was me. Or rather, it would be me if I was a woman. Granted, she didn't have my great muscles, but she was thin like me, or actually a bit thinner as she lacked the muscles. Her hair color was the same. Her eyes were the same. Her facial features were very similar. She even had the same expression of surpise on her face that I had on mine.

I talked to her briefly, and her name is Angel Karaf. She told me that she acquires things for merchants to sell. To me, that meant that she is a thief and sells her loot. I shrugged at that, we could use someone with those skills in our mercenary unit. I assume that she is my sister, which I told her, also telling her of what I know about my background. She asked me if I had already tracked down the slavers. I had not, it was not until now that I had proof that they existed (being the bandits that we had encountered), and that I was only four years old at the time, and the government was of no help. Probably someone in the government was in on it at the time, maybe still is.

She told me that she needed to rest, that she had a big day tomorrow. I bid her goodnight, and I told her that I would much like to maintain contact with her, as I regard her as family. I also told her to get in touch with Henrik, that he is like a father to me and he would treat her as family.

After a little while I went back to Henrik's, told him about Angel, and went to bed.

4th of Suntide

In the early morning, while I was working on some things for Henrik, I was interrupted by Mort. We needed to meet at the Merchant's Last. I bid Henrik farewell. I told him that I would be back as soon as I could, and asked him to be good to Angel.

We had all gathered at the Merchant's Last. Stitch was still the walking definition of sadness.

Darby said some prayers around Stitch for about an hour, at which point Stitch smiled a bit, saying that he could now use his magic.

Mort had discovered where the slavers had escaped to. They had escaped while the demon that they had summoned acted as a diversion. I had to congratulate their choice of tactics, and voiced it out loud to the others. One must respect good tactics, even when it is an enemy that has used them.

I pointed out that we should stop to go get a contract first before going after the slavers, or "bandits", so that we could get paid while obtaining our vengeance. The idea was shot down by the others, but someone pointed out that we can still collect bounty on heads. I silently vowed to myself that if we find any other corpses of victims, we can possibly add their heads to the bounty as well.

While Mort is not as good of a tracker as that jerk, Vance, he is still impressive. I hope that if I see Vance again in the future it can be in better terms. Mort lead us to the forest where we had fought Hugo and his goblins. Stitch pointed out that he had seen Hugo with the slavers a couple of days ago. Griswold and I both asserted that we distinctly remember watching Hugo burn to a crisp, and chuckled together at that memory. I especially recall that battle, as it was the first battle that I had held the line. I smiled at the thought, as my swordsmanship has increased considerably since that time.

6th of Suntide

We had traveled for two days without any incidents. Mort has led us well. We had noticed that many more of the trees had been cut down, probably by the goblins like we had encountered before. We got to the goblin cave, and noticed that the water was a lot cleaner than before. Good, someone has decided that they don't want to drink sludge.

There was a horse that had no rider, wandering around. It had no saddle, but there was some blood on its back, not its own blood but that of someone else. I announced that Crespin has found himself a horse. Mort tied it with a rope, and we found that it was obviously a trained horse. We left our horses with Darby and prepared to go into the caves.