An Albatross, stamped in Black - Maurmeril Jvianin

[SharpGn2]

(Ignore modern contents of course)

A book, leather-bound, black of color and of some quality, is on Maurmeril’s person since being purchased her first day as an Acolyte at Candlekeep. The book itself his held closed with a strap and buckle, the silver kept in good polish. Atop the spine, a symbol of an Albatross in flight is spied, and would be relatively difficult to notice, were it not for a certain shine to the symbol.
If one were to come across and open the book, they would be greeted with the following message, written in violet inks,

Maurmeril Jvianin

Content personal and private

Please return to Candlekeep if found; will pay handsomely, in Electrum, if content is returned with privacy intact

[SharpGn2]

27th Uktar, 1353

It is three days prior to The Feast of the Moon, and as I write this my first full day as an Acolyte of Candlekeep has come to an end. I have an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia - at present, I feel as though I am a first year at Mount Talath all over again. A part of me even reached out and believed I would find and meet Zorae for the first time yet again. Alas, I know that my closest friend in my time of the Academy is no doubt making advances in Conjuration – if only I could tell her my own! I imagine she would have a healthy laugh at me taking on such a studious role yet again. I have found difficulties in my tasks of the day, mostly from lack of understanding mundane methods, and too from a need to eschew my Noble blood. On the latter, I feel it will be some time before I can truly disregard it, but there is reason I am considering doing such.

I must admit a certain sadness as this has all been but a reminder of events long gone and people who are thousands of leagues away from me presently. I hope to attain new friendships in the coming weeks, as I meet my fellow Acolytes and work toward a common goal of becoming Avowed. It is for this reason I have started this journal, and it is my hope I will not misplace it as I have my last. In the least, I will not start at a complete disadvantage; the man Aleister DuBois, who offered me a role as his apprentice in previous days, has also become an Acolyte. I admit my first meeting with him is difficult to forget, as he was insistent I become an apprentice of sorts. I have yet to regret my decision, and now that we stand on equal footing, I believe he will be of help to my own advancement – he certainly seems concerned with it more so than he ought to be. In an encounter with one of the Great Readers that no doubt left a sour taste, I was counseled, albeit against my liking, by Aleister. As it stands now, he is a very kind and caring individual – I hope this demeanor does not change, and that perhaps a friendship may take hold.

Today, as a first day, was exhausting. Being awoken in the hours prior to daylight is something I will need getting accustomed to – even at the Academy, the earliest was usually sunrise. Meditation is something I am not wholly familiar with, however, it allowed me to pursue mine own faith more diligently, something due Azuth that I’ve been meaning to attend to. I was pulled from meditations early, made to help cook the food that would break my and other Acolyte’s fast. The process was a learning experience, albeit an embarrassing one – I will admit here freely, I knew not a mundane way to peel potatoes, and have found that even with a sharpened knife, cutting through a cold potato takes some raw effort. Keeping eggshell from skillet was at times a challenge – I must have burned a thumb retrieving a piece. This is, as I suspected, a price I would pay for my upbringing. I am not at all embarrassed or shy of my heritage among the ranks of the Gentry – but the looks I’ve received from other Acolytes is disconcerting.

The meal I helped cook included cut potatoes cooked on a skillet, seasoned with sea salts and peppers, eggs scrambled, barley bread with a small portion of butter, and a cup of milk, along with as much water as requested. For the most part, the Candlekeep Inn grows very loud, as the tables are filled with Acolytes and a few Protectors – what causes the noise to go down for brief moments are the appearance of Avowed – but I saw no issuance of discipline; meal time appears to be a respite.

I was not made to clean after the meal, instead instructed by a fellow Acolyte back to our quarters. In my wing, there are eight beds, six of which are occupied, by two women, though mostly girls that I’m five or more years their senior – including Idelisa, who was leading me back. When reaching the wing, I was greeted with a launder’s bag, filled with the sheets and blankets of all occupied beds, including my own. As the new arrival, I would have this tenday’s responsibility of laundering the bedding of the wing. Again, laundering clothes without the use of the weave is something I am not accustomed, but got to work, spending the better part of my first hour of chores running the bedding through a scrub board and hanging them to dry.

In the common area, a list with tasking for Acolytes is found; my name was already added, and I was expected to report to gardening duties for the better part of the morning. This is where I am reminded that, despite the feeling outside and the garment you wear, the wearing of black heats you up. I pulled weeds from around the Keeper of the Tome’s residence, and hoped in vain I might spy the man – of course, from my experience thus far, the idea that he is a recluse seems to ring true. I enjoyed some respite from these duties when asked to pick ripening apples from a tree. The shade, and the afforded step ladder, made it a more comfortable tasking. I was afforded a study period, though given it was my first day, was assigned another Acolyte who gave me a quick tour around the grounds, and also informed me of important texts within the Acolyte residence I should focus upon.

At midday, I was assigned cleaning duties, but was able to enjoy the meal provided for the half-bell allotted. I was surprised by a choice of drink, including various juices, and chose an apple cider that I will admit left much to the imagination but was welcome after the morning of labor. This cup of cider came with a stew, consisting of potatoes, carrots, onions, turnips, and mushrooms. The meal was hearty and filling, and despite a lack of spice, was welcome. After, I helped clean the cooking utensils themselves, as another Acolyte washed the dishes created by the event. Oddly, I did not spy such a large attendance as in the morning – one of the women of my wing, Galiena, was in attendance, as well as Idelisa. Those were the only faces I recognized.

My afternoon tasks were to act as a servant of the Avowed, where needed. Removal of trash from offices and living quarters took up the better part of the first hour, though Candlekeep thankfully has a system in place that made the task not as demanding as I suspected. I was called to the Inn and made to deliver a kettle of tea to the entrance of the restricted area of the Library – from there, an Avowed took it and bid me farewell – I was afforded an instant of a glance, but enough to excite me to continue this work.

It was then I was ordered to take a cup of tea to the Guide’s office. Made to wait at the door to her spiral staircase, I was eventually bid entry. The Guide, Keenan, was very kind, asking after my transition and how well I was settling in. She bid me sit, and in our discussion, I was allowed a respite from the running about I had done all afternoon. The Guide formally welcomed me to Candlekeep – but not before going over the troubles I had had the day before. It worries me that I need climb and repair a terrible first impression; however, I was not under the impression at all that I was being punished. Receiving a worthy welcome gift, and good tidings from her, I was bid to continue my duties.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of more deliveries of tea, replenishments of drink for Readers assisting guests – though again only outside of the Library – and a delivery of ointment to the Infirmary. In the midafternoon, another study period was scheduled. I was given some agency to pursue what I wanted, a surprise for a first day, and decided on introducing myself to Alaundo’s Prophecies, by reading about the individual and his impact on Candlekeep.

Suppers are not provided by the Candlekeep Inn. From my understanding, this is to more or less keep guests of Candlekeep and Acolytes separated – but this is only my perception, and as of yet confirmed any further. Instead, ingredients are provided and the Acolytes are made to ensure the consumption of Supper on their own, with a kitchen that is provided in the common area of our quarters. I was surprised to find meat among the ingredients – as I entered the common area after my studies, a male Acolyte was preparing a couple pheasant, cooking them in a broth – from my understanding, the man was able to depart with a guardsman, and, before his time in Candlekeep, was a respectable shot with Shortbow – I would learn, in the process of this meal, his name was Gaultier.

Acolytes busied themselves in the preparation of the meal – the general attitude was one of ease and happiness, no doubt as the day’s proceedings had come to an end. I was left a spectator at first, uncertain where I could fit in the cogs of motion before me – but then I made a realization. Within my wing inside a cupboard I had stashed a few pounds of Halagard Black Tea, and by the numbers I saw present, it would be little inconvenience to my supply to brew a warm drink, especially given how cool and stormy the late afternoon had become.

I had to ask around for supplies, and was made to wash a kettle and several small metal cups – what would make due for teacups – as I began my own preparations. Some interest had grown in the other Acolytes from my wager. . . they watched over my shoulder and I could hear two mention my name. As I found space among the fire and racks above to place the kettle, I busied myself as the water boiled, helping pass out utensils and plates of all shapes wood. To my astonishment, the Acolytes had prepared a three-course meal, and among all of the chaos, how well it came out has given me a want to return to what I’ll deem ‘Acolyte Suppers’. The addition of Halagard Black to brew was made as the first course, a serving of mixed berries, was made available. Portions were served, plates passed back and forth between the Acolytes, who stood, sat, and rested wherever convenient, ensuring each individual received the appropriate amount of strawberries, blueberries, blackberries and raspberries.

I went about checking the condition of my tea as it steeped, keeping track of time as I enjoyed a selection of strawberries and raspberries, finishing with a few blueberries – a very wonderful beginning to supper indeed. The Pheasant soup that made the second serving was announced by the passing of bowls, that reached myself – I continued passing them until one arrived in my hands. The soup contained an amount of breast meat, along with celery, carrots, onion, and from my taste I assume a somewhat liberal use of butter and pepper.

As I ate the serving of soup, it was time to serve tea. I announced the Halagard Black, which drew interest and soon began serving in small metal cups, watching as they were passed about to general nods of approval. As the main course was winding down, I felt a sense of nostalgia from a smell that I could not quite place. It was when the square pans arrived in sight that I nearly had to excuse myself as I might shed tears. It was Salbread, a bread I’d only known from my experiences in the shipyard back home. The bread is from Luiren, popular with sailors of both sea and sky. I caught the scent as the mix of lemon and orange was difficult to mistake.

I actually did excuse myself, under the pretense of finding a few more cups for the tea, to take a moment and not let such a clear reminder from home take my senses. It was time, after all, to enjoy the final course of the meal and some Halagard Black. . . but even now as I write this, I cannot help but wonder how long it’s been since I’ve enjoyed the combination.

When the meals were finished and conversation started to die down, activity began to pick up, as the communal dishes and cookware were made to be cleaned. With so many individuals helping, this was a rapid process – eventually, one would not know such an event had occurred. For my part, I believe I failed in taking social opportunity, but I was too busy marveling at what I witnessed that I have spent the better part of a bell and more chronicling it and my experience of the day here. When all of the Acolytes began to dismiss themselves to individual activity, I and the girls of my wing returned to our quarter, to see to it the linen I had freshly washed was made into proper bedding. From there, I was told I had liberty to do as I pleased for the night, within reason.

I decided to enjoy reading by candlelight. The rain had all but passed, and though the grass was damp, it was not enough so to soak my robes. Lighting a solitary candle, I read a few chapters further on Alaundo; as I did so, I stopped to listen to parts of the chant I could make out, taking small notes here and there to assist my memory. And so it is on this note I conclude my entry of several pages, starting strong a new journal of new experience. I look forward to the coming days and what they hold, though I could do with less reminders of home, however pleasant.

[SharpGn2]

28th and 29th Uktar, 1353

I write this near days end, as two full days have past since my past journal entry. In an effort to keep my promise to writing a journal, I do so now, atop my top bunk, alone in the room as the bell strikes five-after-Noon. Yesterday proved to be one of the busiest, exciting, and longest days I have of recent memory. Where to begin?

As I feel my first entry goes into detail on a standard day for an Acolyte – something I doubled my effort on to also chronicle, this will be a brief but informative version. My morning consisted of further gardening, and attending to the Guide -where I would make acquaintance with Seeker Thrandlwyn Morticarys, a man who had shown interest in my home Nation of Halruaa and of what my families’ business was. After meeting him formally within the Guide’s own office, I was excused, and awaited the man downstairs, under the presumption he wished to speak to me further.

It was then a very odd event occurred. A man who went by the moniker ‘Lucky’ was attempting to gain entry into the restricted portion of the Library, though he stopped at the insistence of the guard. I approached and offered aide, and was afforded an odd experience that lasted a quarter of a bell. What the man was after and the oddities of the situation were detailed in what would be my first report to my superiors. At the appearance of the Seeker, the man all but disappeared, and I was then treated to something I had been impatiently anticipating – entry into the true Library!

The Seeker escorted me in, allowing me to take in the wondrous collection, albeit briefly. Thrandlwyn saw me to a room on Architecture and Engineering, and it was there I realized that the room was of yet completely filled- perhaps a difference to my expectations. The Seeker did mention an interest in finding more books on my Nation and the Skyships within it- however, he had brought me there with a different idea in mind- assignment of my first we’ll say ‘mission’ for Candlekeep. I am to depart to Baldur’s Gate in the coming days and look for any information regarding constructions that receive magical aide. As of writing this, I have yet to partake in the mission, but I am excited regardless.

After, I returned to my duties, preparing Noon’s meal and aiding in consuming it. I was then able to show around a few guests to the public area of the Library, answering questions. After, I delivered tea to the two guardsman who are almost always posted at our front gate, a tasking I more gave myself than officially demanded of me. It is my feeling that I best get on the good side of the armsmen dedicated to the institution – and start making that impression now.

With my tasking done early for the day, I was afforded extra free time, and with that met a guardsman named Xelarian, asking him to escort me to the Friendly Arms Inn. My original intent was to simply check on a cloak I had placed on the market there days before – what instead happened was quite a tale. In summary, I was instead part of a party that consisted of the Guide, Reader Kerr, Xelarian, and a man named Michael. The tone was very light and filled with jest, a welcome reprieve from the work I was accustomed to.

We reached the Friendly Arms Inn, with intent to then pursue a band of Orcs of which I had notice from the Flaming Fist need be dispatched – however, this tasking never occurred, as the Guide was pulled away, no doubt on important business. I was able to briefly speak with Resan, one of the men I had hired as an armsman on the ventures I went on prior to becoming an Acolyte, as well as ‘Iri’, a Lady of Noble Blood like myself that has seemed to take a liking to my person, as she presented me with a book on the Netherese – a wonderful gift that I’ve only been able to thumb through at present.

My pleasantries with passerby were interrupted when a sudden, highly violent, storm engulfed the campfire just outside the walls of the Inn. Circular in nature, I had little doubt in my mind it was magical – and without thought ran to the scene. Studying it as it dissipated, I was able to derive that the phenomena was indeed magic of the Divine more so than the Arcane. All who were enjoying the fire were now soaked, including the woman Isabella and a Tiefling whose name I would get later, Asta.

The man had bought a gemstone from an unnamed Gnome, who was no longer present. It was believed that this stone was the culprit, as when the fire was relit, it moved toward the Tiefling in an unnatural manner. I asked that the man place the gemstone upon bench, so I could examine it myself. With Reader Kerr and fellow Acolyte Aleister who had arrived, I decided to go about looking for markings at the behest of the Reader. Picking up and turning it in my palm, I felt something strange – at first what I thought might be attunement but later realized was a quick-acting curse. This, however, only lasted as long as I touched the device – setting it back down allowed such to go away.

A debate as to what to do with the stone ensued, though it was far from heated, and a consensus chose Candlekeep over the Temple of Mystra in Baludr’s Gate. With Xelarian having reappeared, it was determined that myself, Aleister, Xelarian, and this fellow Asta would go to Candlekeep for aide. Aleister was kind enough to teleport the lot of us to the front gate, just outside, and I asked Xelarian to see to it the guard knew of our intent. It had been decided that taking it to the Temple of Oghma was best, after a ‘remove curse’ spell had been utilized by Aleister to what we thought was no effect. Reaching the Temple, the Priest within, Kilvas, asked what had occurred – as a recounting of events was being relayed, the stone activated yet again as Asta tried to set it on a pew- a storm engulfed the indoor area of the Temple, cascading rain and hail, soaking all inside and leaving the Temple flooded!

At the behest of the Priest, who was soon dried by one of my cantrips, Aleister used an item he possessed to cast a greater form of ‘dispel’ on the gem itself – which ultimately proved to be successful. The troubles had been taken care of, but not the cleanup. As the others departed I made to use whatever cantrips of ‘dry’ and empowered versions of such available, until those were exhausted and only the mundane method of swabbing and wiping down was left. I labored for the better part of eight bells, in attendance to seeing the Temple renewed to it’s previous state. Xelarian did revisit the Temple while I worked, to offer me replacement clothing as he was sure I had not kept a dry cantrip in reserve – and to my embarrassment he was right. The act of kindness did not fall on deaf ears- I will not forget his checking up on my person.

After I was done and it was well into the evening and early morning of the 29th, I made my way for my bunk, did my best not to awake the other girls, and promptly fell asleep. It was not until noon’s bell I was awoken by Idelisa, who assured my initial panic was unfounded. She arrived with a plate and cup for me, assuming I would be hungry – which I indeed was – and informed me that word had been passed down not to disturb my rest, and that I would have this day to myself. A welcome reprieve, as I have spent the better part of the afternoon reading and now write this as the evening progresses. I know not what the following days will hold, but I know this rest has placed me back on pacing to continue giving my best. Hopefully I hear more on my mission and can write about it’s undertaking soon.

[SharpGn2]

3rd Nightal 1353

The past few days have seen me away from the walls on some occasion, with varying degrees of result. I’ve become more proficient in The Weave, and believe I can safely testify that my restrictions back home and the forced nature of my pursuit in Transmutation really hindered my ability in the Arcane. As it stands, I am now proficient in the Fifth Circle, and my Spellbook has several dozen pages filled. My progress is very satisfactory, perhaps outstanding but even amongst my own writings I will not flourish too much.

I am starting to become acquainted better with my fellow Acolytes and the Avowed above me. It seems, as of this writing, that I am appropriately ‘fitting in’ to my wing, the girls giving pleasantries upon our encounters. I’ve made a point to offer more aide during suppers, and in this regard, I am getting to know Acolytes of other Wings as well. Galiena sat beside me, and we conversed about the Geographies of Southern Faerun, among other topics. I do not mind her company, and even offered to group in efforts of study. Not all efforts have been with amiable result, however. There are at least two Acolytes, of which I am informed speak behind my back against my upbringing – a topic of which I wish to squash and move away from, not completely eschewing it, but showing that it alone does not define my person. The thought of needing to do so disappoints me.

I’ve seen and conversed with the Guide on a number of occasions more so than expectation, and nearly all of those have been on pleasant terms. I accompanied her to Baldur’s Gate on the Feast of the Moon, and despite being late to the festivities, it began as a joyful experience – until a rather pompous Elf got the better of my mood and rhetoric. I was prompt in what, at the time, I felt a proper dressing down of the situation. I was informed afterward that I had taken things a little too far and need exercise myself and my manner better in the future. My fear, at the present, is that I’ve taken a step back in my progression – but only time can tell, and dwelling is left to those who wish live in the past.

I’ve also accompanied Reader Kerr on a number of travels, namely to the Friendly Arms Inn and once to Beregost, upon my relaying I had never witnessed the locale. So far, I get along with the man – he and I think alike on many topics, something I was only made aware to. The Reader also saved my life, and for that alone I owe him much – but he would be one least like to ask for repayment. The tour of Beregost lead to me filing for and paying the fee to acquire a license – the small village is a protectorate of Amn, and I’ve my suspicions that at some point I’d end up going there for Candlekeep in the future. I must state I am not at all in agreeance with a Nation that treats those of the Weave in such regard – I do not like the idea I must watch my words and my periphery for simply what I am. Nonetheless, the time and travels I’ve spent with him have been informative – I look forward to further works with the Reader.

Perhaps the most interesting encounter was with a Gnomish Wizardess, who was adamant that farewells should include wishing one pastries over well travels, and who invited I accompany her and an Elven man to Doron Amar, where I was able to bear witness to the Elven community, as well as the inside of the great tower there. It was here I was informed of the upcoming Magefair, which as it stands, is a phenomenon of Arcanists coming together, to share in arcane advancement, duel one another, and enjoy festivities – and, as a strictly secretive affair to those mundane. Given the location and the date, which I will not repeat here, I make plans to attend. I am afforded one Guest. When finished writing this, I will offer an invitation to the Guide out of courtesy – I imagine she has a much higher ranked and proficient Arcanist that she will attend with over myself – but I believe it a kind gesture nonetheless.

[SharpGn2]

The Handwriting here is notably of lesser quality

10th Nighthal

It has taken me half a tenday to finally open this journal and write down my experience. My life was changed five days ago, and not for the better. As I write this, I am nearing clearance to return to my wing again, sitting up in the infirmary at a late hour that might have passed into the 11th. My mind is too cloudy at the moment – I simply feel the need to write, as a means to find some sort of temporary closure.

The 5th was a day that began with achievement. My experimentations into Thaumaturgy proved successful – the Earth Elemental I so commonly Conjure has been augmented, so whenever I cast the spell, he comes along stronger and hardier. I decided to take a stroll down the Lion’s Way, outside of Candlekeep, in order to pit him against the creatures that threaten travelers – namely Ogres, Hill Giants, and Gnolls. I can sense that this Elemental enjoys a fight – namely to challenge himself. Use of the Tongues spell has allowed some communication, and when I call on a sixth circle summon of Earth, he is the one that responds. Overall, it was going rather well. The Elemental was running off the Gnolls, defeating the Ogres and shrugging off the boulders hurled by Ogres.

It was then I spied a unique presence. Having reached the Trade Way, I noted two wolves padding down the road. When they noted me and my Elemental, they immediately grew hostile, almost as if feral. These are not the first wolves I’ve encountered on the Sword Coast, but it is so clear as I write now how very different they were. One had red eyes, a crimson of color, and followed behind the other as they advanced. I, at the time, figured my Elemental would run them off – he took position between myself and them, as they charged. With a ferocity I’ve yet to witnessed, they tore into the Elemental, and I only had a moment to spare to send him home – instead of running, I managed a greater missile storm, to little effect. I turned and made my best effort, but was overcome rather quickly. I can only recall being torn into by the animals, and losing consciousness quickly as I fell to the ground.

I remember being dragged by my ankle across the uneven lands, coming in and out of consciousness. A man, large and covered in furs, was pulling me along, the wolf with crimson eyes growling and snapping at me anytime he noted me. I was in shock, and a lot of pain, as there was little effort to bandage the wounds from bites and tears. All I can recall is the smell of the sea becoming apparent, and seeing the lighthouse so near Candlekeep. I remember wishing in that moment that someone would have seen me, that it would all come to an end quickly – but that was not the case. I lost consciousness with the lighthouse in plain view.

Then, I awoke to a great pain – and all I could do was cry out, scream, beg, barter- anything. A large knife was stuck into my thigh, dragging along and severing my ability to move it. I would, to my mind’s torture, be awake as he did this to my other leg and both arms, rendering me unable to move, completely at his mercy. Never have I in my nineteen years of life have I ever felt so helpless and so alone. I was terrified, making out the words he spoke in rough common, and hearing the growling in shadow, the red eyes ever watching, as if simply waiting to end me. The man was speaking of my person being weak. He mentioned coming to the area again, something of a hunt that led me to believe, in the following days, that he is indeed a Malarite. The man began an interrogation, in which he demanded I give him a good target. My answer of Gnolls was not good enough, as he lifted my hand for me to see, and slammed it into the floorboard below, driving his blade completely through my left hand and wood below. I remember him taunting me, and all I could do was my best to fight the pain, and try to clear my mind. He grabbed the scruff of my neck and hauled me within inches of his own face – and as he spat at me and demanded another target, I was made to note his angry feature.

There was little I could do, and I begged him again, mentioning my position as Acolyte of Candlekeep, in some small hope it might change his course of action. It did not, and I named Goblins – to which I was cast down, to slam the back of my head against floorboard and loose what thoughts I could collect. All I could think in that moment was that this was my end, alone, in a lighthouse so close to what I consider my new home. Even writing this now causes me pause, and I must fight back tears and shakes. When he stood and moved away, I feared the wolf with crimson eyes would be upon me- but it was not. The man placed a potion on the opposite end of the room, and left me there, bleeding my life’s blood, demanding I be strong for once in my life.

When I was sure they departed, and all grew quiet, I used every ounce of my being, to great pain, to move my right arm and hand – a byproduct of small healings he had offered in the process of my torture – to grasp my contact pendant. I cannot remember what it is I said, but I apparently did well enough to reach out to the Guide. The next thing I remember is waking to walls of fire, Arcane in nature, warming me some against the bitter cold, and the pain receding as I was stabilized. The next thing I remembered after that was lying in a bed, with the Guide and others around me. I was told I went into shock, and was coming out of it.

I have been recovering ever since – it took me two days to find my legs again to walk, albeit with a limp, as my right leg seems to either have permanent damage or will take a long time to heal – this is yet to be seen. My torso, upper arms, upper legs, and left hand have been cleaned and bandaged multiple times a day, with some divine magics offered to speed up the process, and transmutations, ironically, of others helping me with strength to carry myself. I lost the ability to cast many of my spells with ease- I utilized my left hand for many somantics, preferring an ability with off-hand, to my now detriment. As of this moment I can move it much more than before – but multiple times a day, sometimes within the same bell, shots of pain course from my hand, a byproduct of the damage done. I cannot know, either, if this hand will ever be able to move as it once did. The leg, and hand, are the worse of the injury.

The Avowed, Acolytes, Protectors, and Guards of Candlekeep have all proven to me that this place is much akin to a family I was unawares to having. They visited me, checking up on my wants and needs, including bringing me stacks of books, as sleeping has been rather difficult. They have seen me to the Inn, caught me when I’ve taken to fall, and all have a sense of justice in the pursuit of my attacker. I could never have been in a better place to recover, and I have a much greater respect, and sense of safety, within these walls.

The Guide, having saved my life, has checked up on me on multiple occasion, even sharing a very personal story of similar incident occurring with her. In some ways, I feel a stronger bond of friendship after, as if we share something unique that only we understand. Never in the past few days has she faltered in her visits and in her want to pursue all avenues of bringing this man to justice. The Reader Emrys brought me books to help my studies along, as well as those I requested to ease my mind, namely childhood favorites and the like. He has checked up on me on multiple occasion. The Seeker Thrandlwyn has visited me, and brought me food and drink at my request. He even tracked the man down, prior to a contingent running the coward away. Protector Olrich was the one to carry me to the infirmary, and since, he has been a nearly constant presence, standing an impromptu guard role near the entrance, or near me whenever I’ve been able to move about. At my mere mention, he will bring me food and drink, and he was the one to catch me before I found myself meeting with cobblestone. The girls of my wing have been by, sometimes together, sometimes individually, always with gossip and news. They are a welcome presence to take my mind off things. I will be forever grateful to these kind souls, that have in my time of need, been selfless and caring of my person.

The last five days have not all been merely within the Infirmary. I attended Magefair, and though I was not in the best condition, I am glad to have went. There, I met a master Conjurer named Hubvert, who graced me with several scrolls that I can cast as I become more proficient. I invited him to Candlekeep in the future, and can only hope he will stop by. Too, I was able to give my Earth Elemental a means to test his mettle, against a Slaad. It was a close contest, but in the end I had to send him home prior to his defeat. Taking walkabouts with Protector Olrich ever present was a pleasant experience – however, it was not all good fun. The other attendees were unfortunately a conduit of ill behaviors, namely immaturity, and even a dishonorable mageduel. Nonetheless, I will not focus on the negative in this writing.

While I’ve become warier, those that learn of my ordeal wish nothing but to see my good health, and justice toward the man responsible. I write this now as, multiple adventurers, including a few I know could rid of the man, are in active pursuit. I imagine it will not be long until I write of his capture or killing – that is, if he doesn’t continue to run in cowardice from pursuit.

[SharpGn2]

The quality of handwriting has returned

The ending hours of 1353, Dale’s Reckoning

It has been two tenday since I’ve put quill to page in this Journal, and as I begin to write this, sitting on the observation deck of Spellflicker Tower, it feels as if a year had past. Much has changed – I no longer serve Candlekeep as an Acolyte; now, I have taken the Vows and serve as Seeker, an Avowed . . . the feeling is still immense, even though it was days ago that I was led to this very spot by the Guide, Alexandra Keenan, with Reader Emrys Kerr and the now Seeker Aliester joining to watch my taking of the Vows. Under moon and starlight, I affirmed a life-long duty to Candlekeep and her Mission – and, with said affirmation, have been afforded new quarters, but most importantly, the privilege of access to the Main Library at my behest. I could get lost in the rows and rows of tomes, sectioned into categories that permit for easy research – in fact, I have been turned around more than once in my early exploring, having to beg forgiveness to whichever Avowed, usually a Scribe, I come across as I ask for direction after startling them.

I am not afforded complete access as it were. Understandably, there are sections of the Library for only the Senior Avowed, some which only the Guide herself can access, and even some she cannot, as only the Council and above can. I am not surprised by this matter of access – however, my initial disappointment of learning that an entire section of Conjuration lie behind such guidelines for access has not deterred me – instead, I intend to work toward earning and advancing into the Senior Avowed myself. In an interview just prior to taking the Vows, the Guide went over a written response to her on my path within the Monastery, citing my view of becoming a Scribe as very much matching her own thoughts in her early days at Candlekeep. Alexandra bid me set aside those thoughts and pursue becoming a Reader instead – with her explanation as to why, and the value I place in her judgement, I intend to do so.

As for my advancement in the Arcane, to which I’ve been accused of being ‘Brilliant’ for, I have become proficient in the Eighth Circle, and have mastered many techniques of Thaumaturgy, including Augmenting my summoned creatures with strength and hardiness, extending their stay without the use of metamagic, and even building a contingent, as it is known, in being able to summon without needing prepare a spell – in this, I have fashioned a focus of a small gem, and use such to call upon what normally would be the ability of one proficient in the Ninth Circle – which I have utilized to call upon an Earth Elemental towering forty feet, an Elder that is older than the Dale’s Reckoning itself. His name is difficult to say, as I initially communicated with him via the Tongues spell, and have since learned Terran itself – I have elected to refer to him as Ro. I have made advances in and have bound to Planar beings, and am doing my utmost to build strong and lasting relationships with each that are willing to beck to my call. In many ways, I am succeeded with relatively little difficulty – after all, I do treat these beings with utmost respect and courtesy, something other mages seem to lack in their summonings.

It was during a ritual in which I managed to bind a Ghaele, who I’d come to know as Vaxana, that the Reader Emrys Kerr spectated. After I sent her home, the man approached me, and made it very apparent a series of advances and interest in me. In truth, we had exchanged courtesies and even flirtations – but in my mind, I thought little of a man such as him seeing anything in me. As he stated then and will oft remind, I tear myself down when I should not. Alas, the interest was matched – I was at first concerned with perceptions and consequences from engaging in such courting – but I was reassured, not only by his words but my feelings which tossed such caution to the wind. Needless to say, a courting has begun, and I see it going nowhere but forward at the time of this writing. We have enjoyed each other’s company, touch, lips, and a passion that remains quite hot. Such a closeness and companionship has allowed me to pull away from darker reminders and ills that happen around us.

As this year comes to a close, I cannot even express the surprise and, for lack of better term, awe of where I am compared to the start of the year. It seems the series of events has a bright path laid ahead for me, and I’ve had nothing but success in my studies and advancements in understanding the Arcane and my specialty of Conjuration. I’ve found a home, one that at times feels closer and more loving than my real home so far to the South. Candlekeep is growing on me – the people, the purpose, the shared love of knowledge, it’s pursuit, and our own wants and needs. I can only go to bed this eve with the hope that I am doing what is right to continue my success and the success of those I consider friends, and of course the man who so swiftly now holds my heart.