8th Desnus (10th year of the regency of Noleski Surtova)
The restored temple almost glows with healthy vitality. Zeleny stays to ensure the change is permanent and that a welcome awaits any pilgrims that her god has sent guiding dreams to. The rain is grey and does not suit what should be a joyous occasion. A curse has been lifted and a once good soul has found peace. Ah well, the real weather does not bend to the edicts of a Bard’s tale.
10th Desnus (10th year of the regency of Noleski Surtova)
Verdamnit!! the Thrice forsaken plague has broken out at the trade post. It is a poor time to be without a master healer. Luckily, Father Kavken is still at the tradepost and while he doesn’t have the skills to cure the Blackscour he has spells at his disposal that will buy us much needed time. We knew that the antidote required some rare ingredients but hoped that Drogov’s uncle would have them. Unfortunately, he had most of the ingredients but not all. I am taking this break from repacking our gear as Sir Karl and Drogov verify the route. Thank Nethys we have another man of letters among us. Once we are packed a race against time begins with a lost monastery on the edge of the old Margreve. St. Nethys intercede on our behalf and Abadar guide us on the perfect path. A dozen good souls depend on our success.
12th Desnus (10th year of the regency of Noleski Surtova)
Two long days Back to the tradepost and then north to the Margreve. The Forest is ominous and seems to have claimed the abandoned monastery for its own. This St. Torag that the place is dedicated to is only vaguely known to me but hopefully the supplies of dried Ironbloom mushrooms is still there and intact. The ruins looks as if something drove the monks into a guarded seclusion and then hounded them to death. The bolt hole where we found the bodies seemed like a place of last resort. Combine that with the unnatural leeching on my magic and the growth of the forest in and around the monastery and saying something is not ‘normal’ and is definately aggressive about the Margreve is an understatement in the extreme. Even if the keep had been abandoned the full 60 years since the monks helped cure the last outbreak of Blackscour there is no way the trees I saw in and among the ruins had grown there so fast without some sort of supernatural aid.
15th of Desnus (10th year of the regency of Noleski Surtova)
We found them! the Ironbloom mushrooms were both there and still intact. We also manged to purge the abandoned shrine of the dark shadows that had taken up residence there. Corrupted souls of dead monks or darker souls come to make complete the defilement started by the forest it matters not. Immune to my lord’s blade they fell before the fires that rage inside me. I think Fate calls me here, not to my death but rather, to be the fire that cleanses and purifies that which mortal man cannot stand against.
We quickly made our way to the northern edge of the Narlmarches and the fey touched moon radish patch hoping for a stroke of luck that would buy us the time needed to save the trade post. It was there while looking for a fey touched willow, any willow, that the Miniature dragon and a grasshopper fey revealed themselves to us My lord Karl confirmed that they were in fact the invisible fey he had spoken to previously that the rest of us had been unable to see. They were frantic with need and so let themselves be seen by myself and Drogov as well as Sir Karl. The prince of the forest had been slain and they were frantic with worry at how it had happened and what they should do next. My lord saw this as a way to ingratiate ourselves with the fey and hopefully acquire the Elderwood mold we need so desperately and so quickly volunteered to help.
16th of Desnus (10th year of the regency of Noleski Surtova)
Pervilash and Tyg Titter Tug guided us through the old Fey way gates buying us precious time in both quests. To think I have walked outside the bounds of the world so early in my studies. Chatty creatures the dragon and the Grig named their common names freely and were not shy in their opinions regarding our lack of understanding of the fey. Before too long we came upon the body of the murdered prince; a unicorn slain with foul necromancy. Sun shining down on the pristine corpse the elements continued to weep as they mourned his loss. With no trail to follow and no obvious signs of violence to give us a clue as to the identity of the assailant we approached a sentient Willow that accepted our offer of help and agreed to assist us in our quest. While we were stymied in our desire to find some clue to the dead Prince’s assailant by the immobile nature of trees we did gain access to the final ingredient we sought and directions as to how we could earn it. We swiftly traveled to the resting place of the great horn and moving with all haste Karl seized the horn and blew it three times. Once complete he replaced the horn and we returned to the Willow in order to gain the Elder mold. Our fey companions seemed relieved that the task was done. Oddly, they seemed unconcerned with the loss of their prince. And even less concerned with who killed him. One thing I do know they mentioned a consort that was dead or missing that should have done the summoning. I wonder who they were and why they weren’t there to blow the horn.
All the sadness in the world was in the resounding blast that completed our task. I now understand the resentment that seems to colour even the light Fey’s dealings with us humans. In there nigh immortal lives they must live with so much pain and loss; I now thank the gods above for my mortality and while I still want as many days as possible I will not succumb to the madness that the quest for immortality leads to. My allotted years will remain just that years, not centuries or millennia.
18th of Desnus (10th year of the regency of Noleski Surtova)
The restorative works and while hidden in the ramblings of the senile Bokken’s advice was golden. Drogov went into the tradepost and administered the cure. First to Father Kavken and then to the others using the extra dose to insure he didn’t catch the plague and spread it among the rest of us. Smoking out the Trade post was a time consuming process but a needful one. One of the other diamonds in the rough during our time with Bokken was his comment about the lost city being reburied 60 years ago after the last outbreak. I worry that some other enterprising trapper will spread the plague with a inopportune visit to Ostel’s shack. I must stop now and write two very important letters. One of them to my old master and one to my father detailing all that has gone on. Additionally, Yuripol will need a heavily edited account of the last couple weeks and her ladyship Countess Allora will need a third version of the events for the Lady Zhenya’s consumption