The Journal of Enzo Sagaris

[Metro-Gnome]

The conversation began began innocuously enough. Some woman who keeps a monster for a pet did not want to hear that winter wolves are evil. She had named hers Sir Fuzzybottom or somesuch nonsense only a pet owner would come up with. She could not fathom that it is a dangerous magical beast from a race that is known for their evil nature. (No, the parallels of my own heritage are not lost on me but no one is attempting to keep me as a pet or name me.)

My surprise at the topic and Ivan's insistance that lizardmen were also somehow the good guys and we, who they attack with spears, somehow the aggressor led me into a rather frustrating roundabout with illogical lunatics (punctuated by another visit from Teris no less).

My point, that I will make until the day that I die, is that no one should threaten my existence and those who do should be met with force. Monsters are real. Monsters are dangerous and the group assembled had likely dispatched just as many as I from atop their high horses and ivory towers. I said so in far less argumentative tone at the time.

Some elven woman felt it necessary to threaten my life and call me a monster for stating the above point. Let me be clear. I offered no insult and had not said a word to her before. She said she would look forward to finding me in the forest so I told her I'd be there waiting in five minutes. She did not show her face, of course. Berea did however and tried her best to calm me. She was less than successful. Something about being called a monster has soured my mood.

Writing this next bit might help it mend itself though, for I have been quite successful since my last writing. I have been Berea her to play cards. Well by "play" I mean "manipulate the odds of". She is a bit too predictable for her own good just yet and her very demeanor is a tell. Her typical calculated behavior does not lend itself to bluffing and her response to circumstance tells you all you need to know.

After a string of trivial losses on my part I did manage to coax some interesting bets from her. Those bets, I made sure to win. Even offering her a final desperate attempt to void all the bets with a game based solely on chance. That too I prevailed at.

Berea has likely learned a very important lesson. Never make bets with devil-kin no matter how dilute their bloodline. In all actuality, though, these bets will work out in her favor. As usual she requires a bit of assistance letting her hair down. Someone has to enforce a bit of mandatory fun now and again.

Speaking of fun, the first few entries have started to appear in the cloned version of Berea's journal. Nothing quite so interesting as when I first read it but perhaps that is because my curiosity is not as consuming since I have obtained it. A handful of mildly troubling sentences give me brief pause though. I will simply have to make myself available should she ask for my help.

[Metro-Gnome]

I have been lax in my journaling. Perhaps because my days have been so full of activity. I wish I could say it was all positive but sadly it is not the case. We should start there nonetheless, though.

I should have stopped to write about the wonderful fun Berea and I had recently. My work at steering her towards a less constrained lifestyle is progressing. She recently enjoyed a night of revelry with me in the 'beard in which she willed away her usual resistance to my chemical edifications. It was good to see her so relaxed and the evening will linger in my thoughts for some time. I am without complaint on that front.

More troubling, though, is the strange series of events that have kept me in Ulgoth's beard longer than my usual stay.

Firstly, the curious case of young miss Sparrow. Berea consulted me about the needle found in her arm as it seems to have been in the pressence of necromantic magic. I finally had the chance to meet the girl and can not begin to fathom the horrors she's been subjected to. Her demeanor is nervous and distrusting to say the least so I had to settle for a cursory inspection but I have let her know that I am a friend and am happy to help however I can.

On this occasion, help meant defending her and the rest of the 'beard from a Sahaugin attack. They continue to grow more brazen and launched a full frontal assault upon the beach in an effort to recover some artifact. It became hard to listen to the explanation of the details because I was forced to deal with a lecture I was receiving from an exiled criminal.

As seems the case most often, reason and logic fail those who seek to judge. This time it comes from the most suprising of sources. The outcast wizard, Cain, was quick to chastise me for my castings (at the expense of our efforts to deal with the Sahaugin no less) but surprise surprise, he was not as interrested in hearing the truth of the matter. I expect he'll start spreading rumors before he talks to me but I care little other than what it would mean for Berea who is thankfully aware of my dutiful restraint. We shall see what comes of it.

In any case it seems we are putting together a patchwork group of adventurers to help bolster the very basic defenses of the city until the Sahaugin threat has subsided so it seems I will be spending some time here for now. Perhaps I will take up fishing.

[Metro-Gnome]

Well, I have taken up fishing. It's mainly to stave off the boredom of these watch shifts. I have never felt my time spent in the small fishing town to be so far from leisurely. Until this matter is sorted out though I'll continue to spend my evenings on the beach.

Last night did provide me a chance to speak with Sparrow about her story and more importantly let her know that I am earnest in my offer of friendship. She is a skittish one but I hope I can offer her whatever help she needs even if that is just a friend who can speak to her in her native tongue.

[Metro-Gnome]

Sometimes the worst days can provide us the necessary perspective to fully appreciate what we have. Such is the case with the strange series of events that have transpired of late.

I do not feel the need to devote any more energy explaining the incident from earlier as it still sours my mood thinking on it but I can say that it is what led me out here.

I write this entry from a small camp I have erected far to the north of my usual, well-traveled haunts. In the valley below me the last light of the dying embers bathe the hillside in a warm glow. It was a poor day to be a troll.

As I bed down for the night I am peaceful, though. The myriad of thoughts and emotions clouding my mind have now given way to a strange clarity.

I speak often of my desire to find my place in the realms. I drone on endlessly about being accepted but I have resisted integration at every turn. I have not been member of any sort of community since my days in the circus though many have offered me a place. I have been hesitant to make any lasting bonds with individuals, including Berea. Though I am blessed to say she is patient and understanding of my faults. Despite my foolish resistance I am surprised and hurt when people treat me as an outsider. I have no one to blame but myself.

The answer is plain to me now. I will give into what makes me happiest and allows me to grow as a person. I am at my best in scholarly endeavors when surrounded by likeminded intellectuals. I am at my best in life when Berea is near. A fact that is highlighted by my absence from her these past few days. I think it high time that I return to her and see that I am at my best indefinitely.

[Metro-Gnome]

I have no words to describe the events of the past few days. I can only say that I am well and truly without complaint. Berea once said I had a standing invite to share all of her adventures and now we have agreed to share the other aspects of our life as well. Words fail me to describe the joy her answer brings me. It is only tempered by my sheer terror.

Our dwarven friend is hard at work on her wedding gift. The ring we made for her was well received even if he did struggle with the materials so I have little doubt this next gift will be the same.

My search for an an arcane community is going well enough. I've had some rather delightful conversations with the scholars of Candlekeep so far. I wonder if it might be a good fit. I will have to keep investigating since I have a wealth of options. I do appreciate the neutrality there, though.

The only thing that is not going as smoothly is the matter of Ivan's trust, which I am not desperate to acquire in all honesty. It seems important to Berea, though, so I will speak to him plainly when next I see him so that he might make an informed decision one way or another.

For now, though, I return to my books and try to ignore the looming task of planning a wedding having never attended one.

[Metro-Gnome]

I am encouraged about my meeting with the church of Mystra. The dogma is not unlike the standards I have set for myself already. They find the same types of magic abhorrent and they have no qualms about the types I use. Their restrictions are light as are their numbers and yet I have to admit I was hoping to gain from peer involvement of which there seems to be little. It would serve little purpose for improving myself but would at least silence my current critics.

I had hoped to make a decision soon but my focus shifted almost immediately to a distressing situation with Berea. She is hearing things. Laughter I can not hear. It scared her and so it scares me. She also fell ill today and grew increasingly fatigued before my very eyes to the point where she could hardly stand. I got her settled into the closest room and she quickly fell into slumber. I had thought that the worst was over until she woke with a start a short time later. She was refreshed suddenly but panicked and she spoke of a nightmare that included what sounded, at least to this paranoid devils-blood, like Erinyes.

Between the burning shadows and possible dream-walking devils it seems I have some reading to do. I suppose research into the church will have to wait.

[Metro-Gnome]

It is over. Finally. I can not express how relieved I am to finally put those words to paper. For what seems like an eternity we have been battling the horned devil that had taken hold of my Berea.

Perhaps battling is a poor choice of words but allow me to delude myself a bit. In reality we have been watching helplessly as she battled. Each of Berea's many allies have attempted to aid her at some point but the fight was hers and hers alone. We all bear the scars from these past few cycles but I can not imagine what she has been through herself.

I have conveyed my thanks to Cecilia for her selfless and heroic work with the exorcism. I have thanked those standing guard over it. I can not ever say it enough, however. I owe them all a debt I can never repay with words or actions. I will surely try, though.

I look forward to the coming days with renewed hope. I suppose we will not be inviting any of my family to the wedding now, though. See, a joke. My humor returns to me. I am thankful and at peace and resting for now. Resting at long last.

[Metro-Gnome]

It has been a troubling week. I am distressed at the frequency that my expertise proves useful lately. It is nice to feel needed but I find myself terrified by the types of consultation I must provide at times. It makes me wonder if perhaps I chose my school of magic too hastily.

It is a strange and beautiful art, necromancy. I was drawn to it with one thought in mind. Protecting against the multitude of threats one might encounter while minimizing the collateral damage and destruction some arcanists pay small heed to. I believe necromancy to be an elegant tool in that regard. The pillars on which our understanding of this science are raised, however, the very shoulders we stand upon today... Those are nearly all mad men or worse. Most were driven to necromancy for power or to stave off their own mortality. The more research I do into their work the more terrified I am of it. With that in mind I have resorted to a more controlled research process to assure I do not succumb to the same madness. I am terrified at the prospect that I may find myself at odds with one of these men soon. Aeili will benefit from my help, though, and she has been such a great help to me I can not possibly deny it. She did make me promise to turn tail if things went south. I informed her that the very thought of me doing anything else was a laughable concept.

As much as all that weighs upon me it is far from the only thing that does so. In an attempt to defend myself from a gargoyle who was flying hastily towards me I inadvertently cast a forceful hand at a polymorphed Sparrow which prompted yet another hypocritical and sanctimonious lecture from Ivan about giving monsters the benefit of the doubt or some other nonsense. I am glad that the others assembled were more sensible.

I am thankful to have SOME good news to report at least. I have had the opportunity to join Berea on a handful of her patrols recently. Not only have they been exhilarating adventures themselves, they have also provided us time to discuss an even more exciting adventure ahead. Knowing that she is alongside me provides a measure of much needed comfort.

[Metro-Gnome]

If you had asked me a handful of days ago what my future held or what I would feel if something were to change I would likely have given a very different answer. It seems odd that I would have this easy a transition but I suppose that thinking of things analytically I have not lost so much.

My closest friend will remain as such. We can still share many of our adventures together and might even find time to make mischief once more without being burdened with the weight and complications of emotion.

I can not fault her for her decision as much as I imagine she will regret it. There was pressure upon her from our earliest days to break things off with me. Selecting a knight will likely be very good for her reputation. The poignant irony is, though, that for all the doubts others have about me an Aasimar paladin was willing to carry out a cold-blooded act I would never even consider.

The adjustment back to my former life might be nice. It is exhausting worrying about someone else's well-being while and suffering through life's trials with them. The emotional toll that it takes on me will not be missed, even if the satisfaction of helping will be. I can return to a consequence free existence free of the additional scrutiny of being the husband of a High Druid.

Is it ideal? Am I happy? Not entirely. It is quite a bit to adjust to so rapidly. We were planning a wedding a week ago. We shared secrets and new experiences together. It is like someone pulled the rug out from under me and I haven't stopped falling yet. I will though. I am sure of it.

So while I will not be rushing out to bless their perfidious union I can at least be happy with what I have going for myself. I am a handsome, charming, powerful mage with a vast fortune and limitless freedom. I will survive. Nay. I will thrive.

[Metro-Gnome]

Not a day since my last entry and I worry that any hope of remaining friends is lost. The web of lies around thIs severing makes me question that idea. I have sent word to Cecillia to offer her a friend as the fallout from Eldarian and Berea's betrayal grows by the moment.

The unfortunate mess cams to a head last evening when the paladin came to Roaringshore to chastise me for neglecting Berea. It seems she sold him on some tale that could be no further from the truth. I offered him proof of the contrary but for a paladin he is remarkably unconcerned with the truth. In all the time they were cavorting she was never anything but a vision of happiness with me and I was nothing but honest, kind and attentive with her. Even upon revealing things to me did she levy no fault upon my action but took all blame upon herself. Little did I know how what she was telling others each time.

At times he seemed as confused as I. Coming to me to beg for forgiveness. I would not bow to his martyrdom, though. I would not grant him the acceptance of his two-faced apology. Throwing himself at my mercy as "an imperfect man" made captive by his love one moment and then taking jabs and barbs at my expense about Berea's "want of flesh" the next. He even had the nerve to blame me in the same breath with which he begged forgiveness. I did not grant him my acceptance. Nor did I offer him insult, going so far to say I would neither spit in his eye or shake his hand. No matter how many insults or apologies he offers me.

I walk away from this the bigger man. The better man. A man who has his virtues fully intact and needn't stoop to the level of the Aasimar paladin.

Even writing that seems wrong.

[Metro-Gnome]

"It is not unlike a circus wagon." He told me. "Except for the ever present fear of imminent death." The captain's humor is dark but appreciated. I watch the crew at work and know that I am in good hands. From my perch on the cliff I can see them scurrying with a single minded efficiency to run the rigging and fill the hold. Their songs and laughter act as a perfect backdrop to my improving mood.

We set sail in three days time, providing escort to a galleon bound for the Moonshaes. It is not my first choice of location but the captain seems to think Waterdeep is over-served at the moment and I bow to his expertise. I was hoping for a better distraction from recent events, however.

My affairs upon the coast are in order and I am ready to leave this place behind me for a time. Knowing that I need not worry for my friends in my absence is a great comfort and all that remains is waiting for the right wind and current. It will give me time to attend to one last social obligation, though so perhaps it is not such a trouble.

I have much to think on and much else that I struggle to stop thinking on. All I know for certain is that I am eager for this new adventure to begin.

[Metro-Gnome]

It is more exhilarating than I had imagined. The spray of icy water upon my face wakes up some part of me that I have been missing lately.

I admit that it took some getting used to given the hectic pace of the morning. The captain began yelling for last minute preparations at first light so that we could take advantage of what he called perfect conditions. After that there was a mad dash through the "rollers" which left me time to appreciate the view of the shore over the back rail.

Now, though, it is calm. The seas are smooth and inviting. They welcome us with open arms. A steady breeze at our backs beckons us on and all the joys of my new life are-

The mainland is barely visible from the back rail now. I felt compelled to check. No reason.

[Metro-Gnome]

There is a tension aboard that is difficult for me to ignore. Perhaps I have been spoiled on the coast but I have not yet found the same acceptance among the crew of the Silver Tern. Conversations end abruptly as I approach. Eyes survey me constantly. Card games and dining tables fill up to exclude me.

The captain assures me they are a superstitious lot that are nervous about my heritage and profession but will warm to me once I demonstrate my usefulness.

I am unsure of my desire to be accepted by these ruffians anyway. I will simply continue to enjoy the wide expanse of open water that lies before us.

[Metro-Gnome]

My admiration and appreciation for the captain continues to grow and I become more thankful for his tutelage and friendship.

Today I received an impromptu lesson in ship to ship boarding combat after the watchman thought he spied another ship in the distance. It was ultimately nothing. "Trick of the fog" I am told. I am happy at the opportunity it provided, nonetheless.

We have been over and over my magical contribution to the battle plan but today was different. I am learning to wield a blade. As it turns out I have a rather natural proficiency for the rapier. It was as much a surprise to me as it was everyone else. The captain even joked that if we practiced each time someone imagined something on the water that I would be a master duelist by the time we reached Caer Callidyr.

I like the sound of this.

[Metro-Gnome]

We are most definitely not imagining things. Six of us have spied the other vessel now, myself included. The weather has not provided us more than scattered moments of visibility but the crew is clearly rattled. No one has spoken the word "pirate" yet but we know that is no rare sight on the Sea of Swords.

Tensions run high. Eyes are fixed upon the edge of our storm-hindered visibility hoping to confirm or rebuke any looming threat. Even the working songs the crew sings on deck have ceased.

The captain, though, seems unbothered and does well to calm the crew. "Even if they wanted to they wouldn't dare close on us in this piss and as soon as it lets up we'll be able to see them." he assures us.

I am sure he is right but I am eager to be out of this storm, nonetheless. The icy waters sting my face and the rise and fall of our bow has not allowed me to keep much of my ration down.

I suppose that all we can do now is wait.