I dreamt of shadows, faces… and voices, I neither saw nor heard them… and so I did not know them… I don’t think I will ever know them… but if I do, will I want to know them? I don’t know. Today… today I made some discoveries about my tendencies… and lusts within myself. I wonder if… I should worry or be concerned with my own morality and these impulses… but when I begin to think about such things, I know that it is not something I do… it is just me, I simply do not think about morality… apparently.
We gathered at the common room of the inn for a quick breakfast, thought it was only myself, the elf, Paus, and Ricaro. Redmont apparently had a bit too much ale last night, and he yelled something about a half orc or half elf when I stopped at his room, and Dogan simply didn’t answer the door. The whole issue is concerning, I have a feeling this whole mess will be easier to solve if we continue together.
Olli, the governor supplied us with some healing potions and the four of us headed to the docks. As usual, the elf made a show out of the whole thing; his psychosis makes him unpredictable and worrying… to the rest I can be a puppet master … I think… or at least I hope….
There it is again. My need to be in control… to have them all wrapped around my finger… I don’t know why I have it… Its just there, and it whispers in my ear that I must be as charming and soft worded as possible… except the elf… I could care less about the elf. I can’t control him with my tongue. I might have to kill him… in combat… make it look like an accident. For now though, he is not a danger, just a slight liability.
We came to the docks, and a group of townspeople gave us the blessing of Asirbh, and some enchanted hooped disks that were made to be thrown, that they said were blessed by the lady of the sea. The elf seemed to react to this. I guess he knows the lady he swears his fealty to now. I myself have stopped swearing to Garl… though the lord of my people, his name on my lips does not seem right, so now I swear to a lord, though I do not know the name, perhaps there is no lord at all.
The elf and Paus are so funny in how they react to things, the sailors at the gate called us “Nutcases” in jest, our mission was risky at best, and deadly at worst. The statement was true enough, we had a death wish, I knew it; but those ships contain our past and memories. I won’t give it up just because I might die, that would be taking a step backwards. We were met not far from the gates by the â of the first ship, skeletons; I figured it was our best bet, no flesh makes them the oldest, animated after they had rotted. We were able to board with the whip that the elf got, who knows why he had a whip, but it simplified things, for that moment any way. Fought through the rest of the skeletons and some ghouls, and then examined a chest that was on stern.
Paus most generously stepped up to detrap the thing, we could really use a rogue on this mission, not that I really care about them living through this experience, but mostly because I’ll need them; and the reviving herbs are rare and expensive. Not that a rogue would have been able to do anything about the trap, it looked to be fairly strong, professionally made but still though the money isn’t important to me, it’s the lack of us having any right now that bothers me, gold is a strong motivator when words are simply not enough. Why is that second nature to me?
Within the chest was an odd wand, I felt a magic within it, but as I held it out and willed its magic to be released, it only pulled my arm down, into the cabin below, or the hold. Nothing in the cabin but a ghoul lord and two dead Beastmen. Ricaro said they were the big guys that captured us, the guards of the ships. Beastmen… why do I even know they care called that? They were large beasts, resembling Minotaur; huge bodies covered with hair or fur or whatever it was, and the heads of rams. The room held nothing but these, a small answer for a small fight with the ghoul, the wand still pointed down, and we climbed down the ladder of the hatch to the hold.
Zombies, zombies that nearly killed us all. Thank the lord that Ricaro was smart enough to run off and then taunt the lot of them out so he could save us. He raised me first with the last packet of herbs. Such a smart lad he’s only 14, I shouldn’t think the way I think about him, but it can’t be helped, Again, the thoughts nor the feelings bother me any, as maybe they should.
There was an altar in the hold, and in front of it a summoning circle and a pool of blood. It suddenly intrigued me, the army of undead had at the beginning, but this, this was a real set up, a spell in work, its strings seemed to be live, waiting for something to occur. The want pulled me to the altar, but as I stepped close I had the sensation of being trapped. A note to myself; be a little wiser in decisions involving evil looking altars. Of course, I don’t seem to be strong in the common sense department, rather the opposite. This would concern me if I didn’t know I had other strengths. The floor glowed an ungodly color of red, but thankfully it didn’t take them very long to find a scroll in a chest I hadn’t noticed. Unfortunately, they spent a bit more time then it took them to find it to try to read it, and the fool elf had another one of his brain aneurism, but at least while the were arguing about it I realized that the altar needed something else to be activated, the wand . Eventually I convinced Paus to tie the scroll about one of his arrows and launch it to the wall behind me.
It was an odd scroll, I could read the words; knew the effect wouldn’t hurt. I read it, and the floor stopped glowing; I felt its power tingling in my spine. I needed to find the other component. I told the others this, they thought perhaps the zombies had the missing piece, Ricaro taunted them back down a few at a time; they fell much easier this way. No clues this way, but then we noticed the blood on the wall; REDRUM, murder backwards… above it on the rafter was more in elven, the elf read it to be “Say the word”
They all started saying it, as if just saying the words as if it could do something. The lot of fools they are. I went to the altar and held the wand and spoke the words “Redrum”. The effect was instantaneous, two shadows stepped forth from the blood, and they must have sensed my feelings for the elf and ranger, they attacked them until I shouted at them to stop, and then they stood in silence in front of me, waiting for a command. I did not give it, instead: “Murder”. I felt the power coarsing through my veins, it was undeniably addicting; and I lust to feel it again. At that point, the elf went into a fit, breaking the summoning circle. The wax of the black candles dripped on the floor; and when he came from the fit, he had no knowledge of what he did. It was a good cue to leave. We climbed the ladder out of the hatch and from the deck; Mummies were below, and whilst the elf madly yelled out the name of his god, I activated the wand, the group crumbling apart. As the power ran through me I ordered Paus to get the ladder from the hatch of the boat and we climbed down, and then the Lich confronted us about his creations. He said that they were keeping us alive. Us,he and our party, or other liches? He said we would pay for it, and the elf and ranger attacked him.
He only laughed at their attempts and pronounced that we would meet him again; he disappeared in an explosion, and so did the ships. Our promise was kept, the ghost ships were gone, but along with them, so was our past. The sailors and governor seem thrilled, I was indifferent. But now… now, I have to prepare myself for a feast, and that requires all the charisma I can muster.
The gnome sighs, puts down her pen and picks up the wand again and tries both words. It does nothing but hum slightly, and pulls her arm to the south. She blinks with surprise and sticks it in the dagger sheath on her leg. Picking up her stylus she hastily notes this down.
The wand, though not functional as summoning or dismissing tool now, does point to the south… perhaps our identities are not so lost, just.. hiding.
A wicked smile creeps on her face and she closes the journal, replacing the stylus and locking it. There was a feast this eve, and she was determined to look her best.