Terlalecyn Marthane

I can remember almost to the day The Lake Arya School for Musicians and Creative Writers was built in our town of Lake Arya.  From that day I wanted to be a Bard. To play music and tell stories that people would be enthralled by; that would be the life.  I was five years old, and even then I knew that that could never be.  I was the second son, and in the Marthane Clan the second son is always pledged to the clergy of Lathander, The Morning Lord.  My brother, Arthur was five years older than I was, and he was free to be anything he wanted to be.  The only thing our father, the Mayor of Lake Arya, expected of him was to marry well.  We have two younger sisters: Cecily and Elizabeth.  My mother died giving birth to Eliabeth.

I spent all my spare time at the school, following the dean, Mansy Staw around.  I idolized him.  He was an adherent of Akadi, Queen of the Air.  It didn’t take much urging for him to regale me with stories of Her exploits.   As I got older, I would do odd jobs for Mansy, he let me pick a musical instrument (I chose the zither) and he taught me as much as he could about it, even though we both knew my destiny lay elsewhere.  We planted an orchard near the school and by the time I was 13 I was driving a cart filled with apples to market every week to make money for the school.

As one might expect, my involvement with the school (and Mansy) didn’t sit well with my father, but he had other things on his mind that year.  Arthur was now 18, and my father had found a match for him.  She was a high elf named Miranda, the daughter of Valum Helvig the Lord Protector of Melinir.  The wedding was set for spring on the shores of Lake Arya.  As the ceremony drew near, everything else plodded along at its regular pace.  Two days before the wedding, I was making my usual run to market when a squirrel skittered across the road, I plowed the cart into a tree, trying to avoid the little guy. Apples went everywhere.  I jumped down from the cart and started picking up apples.  I was met with a gruesome sight as I turned back to the cart.  A leg was protruding from beneath the apples. A leg I recognized.  The leg of my brother. I had heard rumors that Arthur might have gotten himself involved with some unsavory characters, but now I had the proof.  I drove the cart back to town and solemnly reported my brother’s death.

The next morning, I found myself in my father’s office and to my astonishment he was telling me that I must take Arthur’s place at the ceremony tomorrow, I must marry Miranda, for Arthur, for the family.  In the hallway as I left I overheard my father tell a guard to arrest the dean.  My mouth went dry.  He thinks Mansy has something to do with Arthur’s death because the body was found in the apple cart.  Then I had another horrible thought.  What if he (or someone) had the body put there to frame Mansy. All of this went through my head as I sprinted to the school to warn my friend.  Thankfully, this was not necessary.  Mansy had already left town.  Somehow he had gotten wind of what my father intended.  He left me a letter on his desk telling me that he had long neglected a precept of Akadi’s teachings:  One must not stay too long in a single place.  “if I stayed in Lake Arya for too long, it was because of you Terl.”  My eyes filled up with tears.  “You must go out and see the world son.”  I found the address of a school that was out in the desert pinned to the letter.  I set out the next day to find it.

There was no wedding that day.  Neither the bride nor the groom showed up.

I spoke to many bards on my journey and heard rumors of a goblin and a Kordian Statue.  I don’t know what to make of this but it doesn’t matter.  Someday I will find out what really happened to my brother.  Today I go to the desert to become a Cleric of Akadi.

From the Journal of Refrus Revlis

Having had occasion to review Revlis’ account of our childhood and early adulthood, I can find very little to quibble over with his version of events.  Therefore I shall take up where he left off and tell the tale he could not know.  As Revlis said, I had been obsessed with finding the flask, so I burst into his room in a blind rage and demanded he produce it.  The next thing I remember I was lying in a bed and I soon found out that I was at the Temple of Kord and Panril Shortankard, the Abbot was by my bedside.

Panril explained to me that the monks had found a way to counter the Djinn’s magic (with Kord’s help) and bring me here to the Temple.  He said he would relate the full story to me in good time but for now I needed to rest.  I spent the next two weeks convalescing at the Temple.
One morning I decided to search for Panril, hoping he was ready to tell me what he had not that first day, and found him in the courtyard, tending to a small seedling tree.

“Ah, Refrus, my boy, I was going to check on you as soon as I finished here.”
“Thank you sir, I’m feeling much better and I wanted to see if you had anything else to tell me before

I left the Temple and to thank you for giving me so much help.”

“I’m glad your condition has improved….Now let me see…Ah, yes…I had spoken to you and Revlis about becoming Paladins of Kord.  Have you given any more thought to that?”


“Forgive me sir, but I was under the impression from what you said before, that there was more to the story of how you rescued me from the djinn’s magic.”

“And so there is.”  He went back to tending to the seedling tree.  “Isn’t this a beautiful little tree?”

“I suppose so.”

“I was thinking, if you like, you could take this tree to Threll for me.  On the way you could take two of our finest men and begin your Paladin training.”

I didn’t know what to say.  I had no idea where Threll was.  Sure Revlis and I had always talked about becoming Paladins someday, but after what had just happened,  if my best friend could make a wish that I never existed.   I didn’t know what I wanted to do.

Panril pointed out a bench and asked me to sit while he told me a story and I must admit it was a fascinating one.

Threll had once been a huge kingdom in the far south east that encompassed thousands of miles, but by the time King Ambrose had come to the throne it had been whittled down to not much more than a township on the edge of the Lluirwood Forrest.  Ambrose and his father before him were both devout Kordians.

“So, you can understand.” Panril continued.  “That we knew we had to help them when we got word of what had happened.”

“What happened?”  I had to ask.

“A rogue druid of the Circle of Desolation besieged Thell and killed all the vegetation in and around the now small township.  Not a tree, not an acorn survived.  I need you to take this tree and plant it in the town square.  When you do Threll will become consecrated Kordian soil.  When the tree reaches maturity the blight should  be ended.”

I got up from the bench went to the seedling and stared at it for the longest time.

“I’ll do it.” I said.  Turning back to Panril.

“Excellent.  Go and enjoy your day.  You and your two trainers shall set off for Threll first thing in the morning.”

I was so taken by the Abbot’s story and the life changing decision I had just made that I had completely forgot why I had sought out the gnome that morning.  Then  Panril said:

“You don’t remember her do you?”

“Who?”

“Miranda.”

At the sound of her name, all the memories flooded back.  He was right.  I had forgotten her.  How could I have forgotten her?

“I’m sorry my boy.  My men weren’t able to reach the wedding site in time.  The Djinn’s magic had already taken her   But we know where she is, although not precisely.  She is in the Feywild. “

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?!”  I demanded.

“I wanted your mind clear when you were deciding to follow Kord.  I would have helped you remember her whether or not you became a Paladin.  Now listen, there is glade not far from Threll with an entrance to the  Feywild and a court there ruled by Queen Pryozha.  She may be able to help you find Miranda.”

I left the courtyard with much to think about.

Cusler, Kelvan and I left at first light the next morning.  It took us almost half a year to reach Threll  and by that time I was well into my training.  King Ambrose greeted us with a banquet and I presented him with the seedling.  The next morning we planted it just where Panril had said.

The next sixteen years of my life was taken up with training and searching for Miranda.  As Panril had promised, I found the glade and I found Queen Pryozha, she was a great help, but I never found Miranda.

Over the years Cusler and Kelvan helped me put together a small band of Knights to guard Threll.  My training is at an end.  I am a Paladin of Kord  The seedling is now a towering tree, but for some reason the blight has not abated.  This morning I received word from Queen Pryozha that her realm is in danger.  King Ambrose has asked we, the city knights to venture there to see if we can help.



We call ourselves:  The Order of the One Tree.

It all started with this notice, tacked up all over the greater Bard’s Gate Area:

Special recruitment

On this 12th day of jovis year of 1274 DR

The Watch-Blades the well known, and mighty city guard of Yhaunn has openings for new recruits. For this special event you do not need to be from a noble birth. You will receive after you have completed the training 100gps. One set of master work armor and weapons, uniforms, bedding, meals and a home in the great barrack hall of Yhaunn. Upon failed training you will be given 25gp and clothing. Signing at the Red Sphinx Inn on merchants circus from the 14-16. Free meal & bedroll after signing.

Captain Brzzit

Among the many who signed up for this “opportunity” were:

Ben: The ugly elf, resigned to a life of loneliness and despair. Knowing she may never find love or friendship she has devoted her time to studying the arts of healing, if you can't be handsome you may as well be useful.

Strax: The unwashed demon who never complained about being stuck in the sewers. she doesn't care if others find her smell offensive for she has all the friends she needs with her little cranium  rat, Fetor, for whom she went to extraordinary links to protect.

Honey-Dew: the halfelf druid, having never fit in anywhere she has hid away in the woods developing less then ideal social skills.

Fireball: the surprisingly bookish dragonborn barbarian,

Fireball, Strax and Honey-Dew began to suspect that something else was going on with the Watch Blades.  The regiment seemed to be fattening up the new recruits for some reason.  At first Ben didn’t want to believe it was happening, but soon realized it was true.

The Watch Bladed were in league with a band of orcs who attacked the camp and began killing and eating the other recruits.  Fireball and company escaped this fate by entering the tunnels beneath the latrine system.

Down in the tunnels, the group fought, and were almost bested by a family of giant spiders.  After winning the battle, they found a tunnel to the surface, and made their way to a small town Fireball had learned about from a friendly cleric, who had acted as the camp doctor.  The group spent the night at the Inn then went to the market to replenish their gear.

Gurglot  Evarell

 

My mother, Marka Evarell was a human explorer traveling with a group of svirfneblin on an expedition to repair the ruined city of Blingdenstone when they ran afoul of a raiding party of orcs.  She was captured and spent months in the orc camp, forced to become a concubine of the orc leader, Ashkabarr.  When she was finally rescued by a ranger named Jarsif, she decided to reluctantly return (her great great grandfather and namesake was Markel Evarell, one of the first humans to explore Blingdenstone)   to her home town, Caer – Konig off  Lac Dineshere.

 

The tiny fishing village never felt like home to me, and everyone seemed to mock me because of my appearance.  Even my mother gave the impression that she resented me (years later, I stumbled across Jarsif in The Big Fat Knucklehead tavern and he related the details of my birth that my mother had never told me).  As soon as I was old enough, I settled in the much larger city of Easthaven on the other side of the lac.  Easthaven might have been a more bustling township, but I soon felt just as much of an outcast as I did in Caer – Konig.

 

One night I found myself at The Big Fat Knucklehead when two sailors suddenly burst through the tavern doors.  They were in the middle of a “friendly” brawl that ended when one man clocked the other and he ended up sprawled at my feet.  I helped him up and soon learned that his name was Malador and he was first mate to the man who had just dealt him the “fatal” blow, Captain Derrick Gaftner.

 

The three of us closed down the tavern and I ended the night by signing on to Derrick’s crew on The Singing Siren.  Until then I had gotten by mending nets, but I had always longed to trod the boards of a sailing ship.

 

Malador and I became fast friends and at first Captain Gaftner seemed firm but fair, if a little hotheaded, but that was to slowly change.  Malador taught me so much about the sea and seafaring; he also told me he was a devout follower of Umberlee. He wore a medallion with two crashing waves:  The symbol of Umberlee around his neck. Many times, over the years he had been at death’s door and had prayed to Umberlee and she saved him.  There was a certain barbarian gnome who had set his hair on fire, peed in his mouth and left him for dead on the deck of a burning ship.  Once again he had reached out to the B*#ch Queen of the Sea (even her most devout followers call her this.  In fact, she almost expects to be addressed this way) and was saved.

 

There had always been a rivalry between the towns of Caer – Dineval and Caer – Konig.  Captain Gaftner called Caer – Dineval his home; so it’s no surprise that when the fishermen of Easthaven and Caer – Konig seemed to team up to drain the lac of it’s main source, the Knucklehead trout, the Captain decided we would stage raids on the two cities biggest ships.  At first I got a kick out of sticking it to my former home town, but soon we started raiding ships from all three towns.  The final straw came when Gaftner commissioned a battering ram for the prow of the ship and changed its name to The Howling Fiend.

 

We would use the ram on any ship we set our sights on no matter where it came from.  We had officially become a pirate ship.

 

The mood on the ship completely changed after that and I would probably have left on my own even without what happened next.  I was high up on the riggings trying to secure a line when the wind blew the line (and the sail it was attached to) out into the middle of the lac.  I lost my balance and fell all the way to the deck, hitting my head hard.  I looked up and saw Gaftner standing over me.  I raised my hand hoping he would help me to my feet, but instead he grabbed me and shoved me into a barrel.  Before I knew it he was hammering the lid shut.  He threw the barrel overboard.

 

I descended deeper and deeper into the darkness.

 

I called out to Umberlee.

 

When I woke up I was in sumptuous bedroom.  A tapestry with those same crashing waves was draped from the ceiling.  Malador was standing by my bed.  He told me these were now my quarters at the Temple of Umberlee.  I knew exactly what I had to do to thank the Sea B*#ch.

 

Today even after all this time I’m still uncomfortable with tight spaces but I’m finally ready to go out into the world.  My training is done and I will soon take my oath as a Paladin of Umberlee.

Quizlore Shortcloak

 

My childhood friend, Ulder Ravenguard is the reason I became a member of the Flaming Fist.  Both of our fathers were blacksmiths in the Lower City of Baldur’s Gate.  I had one younger brother named Lotgeir and Ulder had three older brothers, so he knew he had almost no hope of inheriting his father’s forge. 

 

Because of this, by the time we were both around 10,, he had put his name on the list for consideration as Flaming Fist cadets (I signed up in moral support of my friend and Lotgeir put his name in because he had to do everything that I did)  

 

Ulder’s oldest brother’s name was Wolfdar.  The other two were twins:  Veit and Vondal.

 

If Ulder had been my motivation for joining the Flaming Fist; I became a Paladin of Gond because of Duke Torlin Silvershield.

He was (and is) the leader of the city’s greatest patriar house as well as High Priest of it’s Gondar Temple, the opulent High House of Wonders.

Fruward the Nail

 

 

I was sixteen when our village was occupied by Grulsh and his army of marauding Orcs.  All able-bodied males from the age of thirteen and up were conscripted into Grulsh’s army.  I ended up training under a sergeant by the name of Gortuck, he was a bugbear, which meant he had a goblin heritage, but I actually came to greatly respect him and he taught me much about warfare.

 

Grulsh was defeated and killed at the battle of Hamper Hill and all the conscripts in his army were freed.  By this time I was 21 and returning to my village I found that it was still overrun by Orcs and both my parents were dead.  There was nothing left for me there. I decided to settle in the town of Lufkin and joined the Builders’ Guild. 

 

One night I was called to attend what I had been told would be a late-night negotiation over work contracts.  Apparently, I was the first to arrive and I was surprised to see the one who had called the meeting was a childhood friend by the name of Adrick (my mind flashed on the fact that he had always lorded over me that my parents had been forbidden by our clan from giving me an official clan name because of some transgression my father had committed.    I had never been told what it was). 

 

Adrick embraced me and told me how happy he was that we had both survived conscription by Grulsh.  He handed me a glass of ale and we toasted to our freedom.  Soon I began to feel lightheaded and suddenly four thugs burst into the room and held me down while Adrick took a spike and drove it into my forehead.  Then he took my glass of ale and threw it in my face.  The thugs carried me to the guildhouse and laid me face-down amongst my tools so my death could be called an accident.

 

As he had hammered in the spike, Adrick explained to me that he had resented the fact that Gortuck had given me preferential treatment while his sergeant had beaten him everyday.

I lay there on the floor of the guildhouse for what seemed an eternity, and then I mercifully passed out.   When I came to, a young woman was cradling my head in her arms.  She told me her name was Nine-Fingers Keane and that I should try to get some rest, but I could feel that whatever was in the ale had mostly worn off. I had gotten my strength back.

 

Just then the doors of the guildhouse burst open and several of the city watch ran into the room followed by Adrick and his thugs. 

 

What happened next is a bit of a blur.  I just remember being incredibly angry.  I started hurling accusations at Adrick.  Two of the Watch moved in to restrain me and a fight ensued. I ended up killing two of the thugs and wounding at least one of the Watch.  The last thing I remember before I passed out again was seeing Adrick flee.

 

I woke up several hours later in the city gaol with Nine-Fingers cradling my head again. She was just waiting for me to come around so she could break us out of our cell.  It seems Nine-Fingers was a budding master thief.  She was hiding from the Watch in the guildhouse when she heard me struggling for breath.  If it hadn’t been for her I really may have died that night.

 

We fled Lufkin and ended up in Nine-Fingers hometown of Raven’s Ruin.  She set me up with an apartment there and when she ascended to Master of the Thieves Guild she made me her enforcer.

 

If you are looking for a great love story you’ll have to look elsewhere.  Yes Nine-Fingers and I have shared a bed and we greatly respect each other but that’s as far as it goes.

 

Over the years many doctors have offered to remove the spike but I have always refused.  It has become a part of me and it makes me remember that one day I shall have my revenge on Adrick!

Gerard,

 

            As I alluded to in my last letter, my father finally sent me to infiltrate Lady Gahgah’s carnival.  He must have grown weary of all the complaints his office has been receiving, since last year’s Carver’s day.  He wanted me to find out if he would have any legitimate grounds to detain her the next time she sets foot in Melinir.  I was able to track them down on the road south of Telar, deep in the Gauntlin Forest.  As a happy coincidence, I found that my old friend Aarun, the harper and his wife, Mithann, a former priestess of Pelor were already traveling with them.

 

We made camp on the Northern outskirts of Torlynn and by the time I woke the next morning, the Carnival was in full swing in the town square.  When we pulled up stakes three days later, a grumpy dwarf by the name of Baerick had joined the caravan, but he was not the only new addition to camp.  I was surprised to see Gemi darting among the jostling wagons as I understood he was supposed to be in Valet’s care at the Temple. 

 

As it  turns out, Gemi is the son of Lady Gahgah’s  daughter-in-law, Hedrun, one of the carnival’s infamous dancing girls, and yes, that also makes him Lady Gahgah’s grandson! 

 

 

When Hedrun found out that her son was training to be a Paladin of Kord , she was furious and, as she put it, dragged the boy away from those ruffians’ clutches (as you may have guessed there’s a lot more to the story but I will fill you in when I can see you in person).  

 

As I suspected she might, Gahgah decided to give Melinir a wide berth and so we didn’t stop again until we reached the town of Tybalt in the Bone Hills.

 

A few days later Gemi turned up missing.

 

I will leave it up to you whether or not to tell Pax (I know how she feels about Gemi) and the others other’s about this.  If you can get them to come with you, so much the better.  Hopefully the boy will turn up alive and we will feel foolish for worrying, but I have a bad feeling about this.

 

I will be leaving the caravan today and heading home to Melinir.  Please meet me there if you can.

 

                                                            Love

                                                                        Menolly