Riloth 19th the 4th

Dear Spellbook,

Today I ordered more coffee. Apparently when you want more than a cup they give you a "pot". Dumb name; it's more of a pitcher. The stuff is starting to grow on me, but it's atrocious cold.

Sitting here all day, I made some progress figuring out how you work. A torn out page can be placed back in later. Pages that are not originally from you won't be absorbed if I do the same with them. I pulled out a Daulf doodle, we will see if it is back in the book after the reset. Don't worry, it wasn't one of the better ones.

I have notes on what happened in the square now from yesterday. Yesterfore? That one doesn't even make sense, the day before yesterday? Well, the day before today, I was writing while watching the crowd, an invaluable skill for a scribe who must copy manuscripts, and one my father forced me to learn as a child. Today should be easier now that I just need to watch for changes.

Writing in you seemed to help me stay alert. When I would take a break, the tiredness and sickness would get worse. Reliving the memories and sensations seems to dull those of the present some. Where did I leave off?

Riloth 16th

Sleeping in that bed that first night was transcendent. Laying there my body felt like it had melted into a puddle. It was as if I was floating freely in a pool of warm water, but with the support and security of a child sleeping in the arms of a parent. It made me question if I had ever truly felt comfort before in my life. The plan was to spend the entire day there, meals included, and rejoin the group the next day.

I don't mean to wax poetically, but I want to give context for how angry I was when Daulf knocked on my door and woke me up.

“Wake up lad, we got a busy day ahead of us and the sun has been up for hours” Daulf shouted through the door.

I rolled over and judged by the sun that it was around eight in the morning. As frustrated as I was to be woken, Daulf must have extended great restraint in letting us sleep in till now. After getting dressed I opened my door to see Daulf, Roland, and Trish all ready and waiting. So I guess Daulf just let me sleep in. Simon walked away when I came out. He must have shown them which room was mine. Traitor.

Trish handed me a hunk of bread and cheese saying “We all ate in the restaurant downstairs, chew and walk, we got places to be.”

The first place we had to be, it seemed, was the guard post at the western gate. Trish and I waited outside while Daulf went in to speak to the guards to see if they had a record of Bearskin's arrival. Roland was off somewhere, disappearing without a word on the walk to the gate. He tends to disappear and show up when he's needed, or at meals.

Daulf exited, reporting, “No luck. They said they’d check the logs, but a man fitting Bearskin’s description is the type of passerby the guards would talk about for days after.”

We left the guard station and walked around the town. If he hadn’t entered through the gate, it was unlikely that he entered the town at all. Subtlety is not an art Bearskin practiced. He stands out like... Well, stands out like an eight-foot-tall warrior, covered head to toe in swirling tattoos—because that's what he is.

We split up with plans to meet at the Crystal Dragon for dinner.

With a promise to not get too sidetracked, Daulf headed out to the camp outside the walls to search for signs of him. Trish headed to the inns to do what she called “passive interrogation”, and which I called sitting at a bar and eavesdropping while getting drunk. My plan was to speak to people in the market from the outlying areas who were in town for the day. If Bearskin had bypassed the town, these are the people who would have seen him.

The market, which had been deserted the night before, was bustling. Every stall was occupied and vendors were setting up shop between them blocking off pathways and further fostering the chaos. I have always felt comfortable in a crowd. The roar of all the people talking over each other, the mass of bodies going each and every way, it all feels like a perfect place to get lost. Living my life in constant fear of being singled out, a crowded market has always been a place I could go when I wanted to feel small and insignificant. To disappear.

Unfortunately, that day I had a mission and anonymously browsing stalls would not help complete it. Not that anonymity was possible any longer. Since acquiring you, I'd taken to carrying my spellbook on my person, where before I had kept my "spellbook" stashed in a bag. While necessary as cover when I am going to be casting spells, the opportunity and need to cast spells was not a daily occurrence until very recently. I bring this up to explain how people began to react. I do not dress like a wizard, which is to say I wear no robe, have no enchanted rings or belt of wands. These are the trappings of a Tower wizard and people know to steer clear and show deference less they be "identified" as a sorcerer. I typically wear travel clothes in the style of the Ship Clans to sell the disguise of Clansmen on a walkabout. Sturdy boots, leather jerkin over a canvas tunic, and thick canvas pants, with an oilskin cloak with a hood. Amongst the Ship Clans, the Stormcaller dress is practical, so the disguise worked well to identify me as a Stormcaller if the need arises to start casting spells. I have since lost my typical Ship Clan outfit and have to make do with generic travel clothes.

Whereas a Ship Clansmen walking around with a spellbook identified me as a Stormcaller, a random man in nondescript travel clothes walking around with a spellbook meant nothing. People did not know how to react to this.

I completed a circuit of the market looking for anyone who seemed like they lived on the outskirts of town with the hope that one of them may have witnessed Bearskin's passing. I walked through the crowd unnoticed at first, but soon people saw you. They began to stare, mutter amongst themselves and make room for me. Where I had to push my way through the crowd before, it began to part before me. A man bumped into me while not looking where they were going.

“Watch where yer going!” He yelled as I tried to recover from the bump.

When he turned to get a look at me his eyes fell on you, the book at my side, and widened. “I umm, uh...” He stammered. “I am so sorry, I ah. I'm so sorry."

Then we both just stood there staring at each other. He terrified, me unsure what to do.

After what felt like minutes, but was only a few seconds, I gave a curt nod. At the nod he turned and ran away through the crowd and the circle of observers that had formed around us started to disperse.

I continued my circuit, with an even wider berth now. A stall selling herbs I knew to grow in the forest caught my eye. The woman working the cart must have noticed my attention because she yelled "Any herbs I can offer you, young master wizard?"

Startled out of my thoughts I blurted out the first thought that came to mind "I'm actually looking for a big man." I could feel my face blush in embarrassment.

"Now that's not something I can get for you but I got a variety of beautiful smelling herbs and flowers here you can maybe use to catch his nose." She replied, playing up my embarrassment, clearly not intimidated by my grand wizardly air.

I faked a cough, trying to regain my composure and said "Sorry, no. I meant I am looking for a friend, who's a very large man. I wonder if you saw him while out gathering your herbs."

"Well I'm sorry to say but I can't help you with that either, but the woods have been a strange place of late." She then directed me to some other people in the square who may have seen Bearskin pass through.

The next man I spoke to was a farmer in town to sell some of his harvest. Mary, the herb seller, told me he has a farm out a half days walk north, where the forest ended and opened up to the plains. This time I preplanned what I was going to say to avoid any awkward introductions.

“Greetings sir! I am looking for a friend of mine who may have passed through your farm, he's about yay tall,” I reached up to show Bearskin's eight foot something height, “covered in black patterned tattoos, and carries a massive wooden sword with obsidian blades fastened to the edge. You don’t recall seeing him do you?”

The man stared at me for a moment, as if still trying to process my words, before saying “No, I’m pretty sure I would remember if I saw a man who matched that description. The only big men I have seen as of late have been the regular giant variety. Darn giant near tore down me barn. Lucky to have made it out with my life, luckier still he left my horse alone.”

“Giant?” I asked, “A giant tore down your barn?”

The man answered “Yeap, and it weren’t just mine, all my neighbors had the same thing happen. That same giant came, tore the roofs off of their barns or sheds, and then just walked off, not touching nothing. ‘Cept my roof that is. Strangest thing I ever heard of, 'til you til me about your friend that is.”

He got quiet and stared at me expectantly. Not wanting to get dragged into any “adventuring,” I bought an apple from him for two bits and thanked him, and ran off.

After that I spoke to a few trappers and hunters, but none of them had seen Bearskin either. One trapper reported that some shady individuals had moved into one of the abandoned ruins in the forest. Dwarven ruins it seems are very abundant in the region. He didn’t get close enough to provide any details.

Speaking to all other vendors from outside the town took up most of the day and I headed back to the Crystal Dragon. I approached the group in the foyer speaking to a man with a shaved head, of average height. He was wearing travel clothes like my own, but much nicer. They were covered in elaborate embroidery of gold thread and they did not look like they had seen much travel. He was speaking to Daulf and they seemed to be hitting it off. As I drew closer I heard Daulf say, “Again I must thank you for the complimentary room.”

“Nonsense” the man replied, “ I owe a great deal to Illunia, and I could not countenance her Chosen sleeping outside in a tent.”

“Well now that you mention tents, I was hoping to convince you to assist more out in the refugee camp,” Daulf asked hopefully.

The man paused thinking for a moment, “I’ll tell you what. When I say I owe a great deal to Illunia, I mean it, truly I seek to repay her.” At this Daulf gave a subtle nod, something I’ve noticed he did unconsciously when detecting truths with his Blessing. “If you swear on your power you will only use these resources in service to Illunia’s will, I will open my coffers to any work you do.”

And with that, we lost Daulf’s aid for the remainder of our time here. He and the man, whose name I did not get but was later told was Tilavo, walked off to discuss the details. The rest of us headed to the restaurant to eat a fabulous meal on Tilavo’s tab. While we ate, a bard was playing a song on the Dragon Wars.

The dragon went from town to village

She asked each man to come and pillage

Some foolish brave gathered around

To burn the lands of who kept them bound

Many men did take her up

They drank of her blood from the cup

And through their veins her power ran

They pledged their swords, their lives, their clan

Across The Continent they raged

War on all her horde waged

To Faust’s power their wills did bend

They lost their minds, now barely men

The Tower came in force to war

At their side some dragons did soar

The battles turned the day to night

To the death each cultist did fight

When the war was over and won

The she dragon fled, the Tower outrun

To prevent this war from occuring again

A vow they did make to purge dragons from men

Any sorcerer who they find

The tower will capture, to death they're consigned

Never again will the dragon cult reign

For this threat the Tower has sworn to contain

We didn’t talk much, the song kind of killed the mood. Roland disappeared after we ate, Trish went to “hit the tables,” and I retired to my room.

That song was a bit of a buzzkill. No one wants to hear about those events. I’ve read a fair bit about the Dragon Wars. To sum it up briefly and gloss over the death and destruction: fifty years or so after the Continent was settled, some of the corrupted dragons returned to wage war on the races of men. They raised large armies of primarily orcs and humans, granting them power with the sharing of their corrupted blood, but driving them mad with it. The armies destroyed everything in their paths until the fledgling city states of men, the elves and the orc tribes that resisted unified behind The Tower to push them back to the mountains. After the armies were broken The Tower added the hunting of dragons and their sorcerers to their mandate, but now that seems to be all they do.

Look who's a buzzkill now. Let's update the lists from the day's events. Spellbook, can you show me my leads if I write -Leads-? Spellbook, if I write -Leads-, copy my leads from before down below.

-Leads-

Leads:

House Barion Landing Command tent Giant north of the town Outlaws out in forest ruins.

Nice, I hoped that would work. This will make this all slightly less tedious.