The Loremaster's Journal The Writings of Caelus Moon
This thick journal, embossed with a bronze shield on the front, looks as though it's seen heavy use. It contains only a minor magical ward against water, fire, and acid damage, but is otherwise unprotected and unlocked.
Within its pages, the journal contains the assorted, unindexed notes of Caelus Moon, a priest of Oghma. The earliest entry begins on 22 Tarsakh 1356 Dale Reckoning.
I have arrived at Candlekeep after a long, arduous journey, and I have registered my interest in serving at the Temple of the Lord of Knowledge. Although I have yet to meet with the Keeper of the Tomes, I have met with the High Priest of Oghma, Kivas Ulbright. I have also met with several of Candlekeep's Avowed, including the Guide.
I am pleased to report that Candlekeep's Guide, Isabella by name, appears to be interested in my efforts to write a history of the Sword Coast -- and I suspect that she will assist me in it as much as she is able (barring her more pressing duties). The others I met, including a Reader by the name of Emrys and an Acolyte by the name of Celestia, were also pleasant company. Emrys was cool and collected, and Celestia was refreshingly honest -- certainly nothing like the manipulative Sembians and diplomacy-minded Cormyrians with whom I am used to dealing. ... Well, except for when she tried to convince me that she was a princess from a distant land.
At least she got a new nickname out of it.
I also met several others who were not members of the scholastic community. A woman named Melissar, with whom I suspect I share a soldier's bond, made the greatest impression upon me. Though I also met one man who appeared to be confused with madness or malady, and a number of rather important dignitaries.
I must admit that I was a little surprised by the dignitaries. Not so much by the fact that they would come to Candlekeep, of course, for people come to the library fortress from all over the world -- but by the way in which they traveled! My first night at the monastery, I met a Dreadlord and Knight-Commander of the Zhentarim. I believe their names were Marietta and Bob. And on my second night? I met the Khazark of Thay's Enclave in Baldur's Gate, Iskra Golondini. Neither party traveled with armed guards! Can you imagine? In Chessenta, anyone that important traveling without an army would be asking to be assassinated!
Of course, it could well be that they are simply so assured of their own strength that they do not fear assassins? And, certainly, you'd have to be a bold or foolish assassin indeed to take on a Red Wizard. Either way, though, I suspect I will see more of them: As they each will surely have tales to tell about the history of the region. Tales which they and their detractors alike will warp, to be certain -- but only by talking with both sides will I find the middle truth.
F I T N E S S - L O G :
Candlekeep is perfectly shaped for running laps. I woke up this morning and went on a long run, then completed some body weight training and shadow boxing. I will have to ask Isabella or one of the guard commanders if they have some sort of training facility or sparring ring. Perhaps some of the guards might be interested in learning to wrestle?
Ah, but that reminds me.
Melissar told me about a certain Scribe named "Edelgarde." Although I have not met her yet, this young woman is apparently of the belief that a sugary sweet breakfast is healthful and good for you. Moreover, when I suggested to Celestia that she join me on my runs or in weight training, she replied with, and I quote, "eww, think of the smell."
I realize now that I will have a lot of work to do here. Not just with my history, but with the scholars as well. Soon enough, they shall learn my mantra: Mens sana in corpore sano. A healthy mind in a healthy body.
T A C T I C A L - R E V I E W :
Today I refresh my tactical knowledge by remembering the fall of the hobgoblins at the Gorge of Nomog-Geaya the Warrior. For more than a thousand years, hobgoblin tribes congregated at the mouth of the River Ith, the longest river in Tethyr. There they had built, with dwarven slaves, a massive statue of Nomog-Geaya, the hobgoblin deity of war and authority. Only in -1931 Dale Reckoning were they finally defeated in four major battles with the human empire of Calimshan.
The hobgoblins greatly outnumbered the warriors of Calimshan, though; and hobgoblins are, besides that, renowned for their discipline and individual skill in battle. So how was it that the humans prevailed when so many others had lost against this entrenched foe?
The secret was in the military theories of concentration in force and defeat in detail.
Defeat in detail is a military doctrine whereby a commander seeks to defeat a superior enemy by destroying small portions of its armies instead of engaging its entire strength. Practically speaking, this happens when the mass or weight of one army is brought to bear against smaller portions of an opposing army, thereby achieving a decisive superiority at the point of actual conflict. This is what Calimshan did. Rather than taking on the hobgoblins in their canyon in a single, pitched battle, the Calishites led them out and engaged them in four separate fights at four separate defensive points, effectively quartering the strength of their foes.
The night before the first engagement, the soldiers of Calimshan then concentrated their forces at one of the four points -- leaving behind only enough men in the other three locations to effect a stand-off and leave the hobgoblins uncertain of their actual strength. Thus, at the actual point of contact with the enemy during the first battle, it was the Calishites who outnumbered the hobgoblins. This strategy was repeated in the second battle, before the hobgoblins had caught on to what was actually happening. And, by that time, it was too late. They were now outnumbered in totality:
Because the hobgoblin units had allowed themselves to become so far spread out and far apart from each other, they put themselves in a position to be defeated in detail.
This tactic requires cunning, trickery, and speed. But it can be highly effective. -- And it serves as a reminder that great challenges, in war or in life, can be defeated if you break them down and take them one piece at a time.
Earlier tonight, I had my dinner with Candlekeep's Keeper of the Tomes, Ulraunt.
It was a surprisingly frugal affair consisting of watery soup, hard bread, boiled vegetables, and thin wine. Despite the fact that our meal was set at a full table and occurred within a large dining hall, it was just Ulraunt and I who dined. He sat at the head of the table, and I sat directly to his left. I suspect this was all meant to disorient me -- and I have to admit that it worked:
I went in expecting pleasantries and a fine meal, and I instead found myself in the middle of an interrogation!
By the end of it, Ulraunt knew quite a lot about me. When he learned that I was Chessentan, he pressed me with about a dozen rather hard questions about it. In retrospect, I wonder if he thought I might be from Luthcheq?
All said and done, while I likely learned less of him than he learned of me, I am fairly certain after meeting with the man that he is Halruaan. Which, I have to say, came to me as something of a surprise. Nonetheless, I must have pleased him with my answers, for once the meal was over he welcomed me to Candlekeep. So it would appear that I have been accepted into the monastery.
Although many of the Avowed I spoke with in advance of this dinner gave me warnings about the man, or even seemed to fear him, I personally feel like he is a man I can respect. He is clever, he is crafty, and he clearly cares about Candlekeep.
In other news, I fear I may have upset the Guide, Isabella, shortly before my dinner with Ulraunt. It was not my intention, naturally, but in the course of my inquiring about items of local history, I seem to have hit upon a nerve -- in that I may have inadvertently reminded her of some event from her past that she'd rather not have remembered. I tried to patch things up, but she kept me at something of a distance. I cannot blame her for that. As she herself said, she barely knows me.
On a lighter note, though, I did have the pleasure of meeting three residents of Candlekeep I had not yet met before today: Edelgarde, who I knew by name if not by face, Tarina, a fascinating woman who consorts with spirits, and Lucia, a rather sheltered and peculiar woman who had somehow never heard of "dancing" before this tenday. The first two impressed me, and I have a feeling I'll be talking with them much more in the future. The third amused me, and maybe worried me just a little, but I think we'll be fast friends.
F I T N E S S - L O G :
Prior to my wrong-footing her, Isabella seemed to approve of my ideas for encouraging a fitness and healthful eating regimen for the local scholars. Apparently both she and Edelgarde had tried in the past to enhance their physical health through jogging.
Except they had also apparently quit after one day.
Well, no matter! One doesn't compete in the Thulbanian Games after one tenday's training, after all. Where there's a will, there's a way: I shall just have to encourage them all to be of good health and sound minds.
T A C T I C A L - R E V I E W :
Finally, today, I take a moment to remember the Battle of Ingdal's Arm. This was the engagement that ultimately led to the birth of the kingdom of Aglarond. Taking place in the Year of the Watching Wood -- or 1065 Dale Reckoning -- it has its fair share of take-away lessons for the aspiring strategist or tactician.
The story began when my people, Chessentans, began settling on the peninsula around the Yuirwood in 756 Dale Reckoning. These early colonists found rich waters filled with fish and good farmland, and slowly they worked their way inland, clearing the forests as they did so. This, as one might imagine, brought them into conflict with the denizens of the Yuirwood, both goodly and evil. Unfortunately, as we humans are so often inclined to do, they kept taking more and more of the land, and soon the native elves -- the Yuir -- were on the verge of extinction.
Some of the inland humans, on realizing that they had caused such devastation to the elves, began to help them instead. And, between roughly 900 Dale Reckoning and 1050 Dale Reckoning, the two races started intermingling, producing numerous half-elven offspring in these inland regions. In the meanwhile, along the coast, a human kingdom called Velprin had been born. The two groups -- half-elven inlanders, now calling themselves the Yuir in solidarity with the elves, and the coastal kingdom of Velprin -- came into conflict in 1033 Dale Reckoning, when the half-elves, after demanding numerous times that a new wave of inland-moving Velprinian humans stop cutting into the forest, began to attack them when they did not listen. This touched off a series of skirmishes until, in 1059 Dale Reckoning, the new Queen of Velprin, Indrila Demaz, raised an army in an effort to crush the half-elven resistance.
Queen Indrila's army destroyed the Yuir militia's outposts and scattered the Yuir, sending the half-elves deep into the forest. Brindor Olósynne, the leader of the militia, then began to build back up his forces, while Queen Indrila's army regularly marched along the outskirts of the forests.
The Battle of Ingdal's Arm turned the tide of the conflict. Ingdal's Arm was, and still is, a small, semi-wooded fishing town near the edge of the Yuirwood, and word had reached Queen Indrila about there being resistance movements in that area. This had been intentionally leaked to her, however, and while she thought she was going to crush the half-elves once and for all, they instead were waiting with a trap. As her forces moved on the village, the "surprised" half-elves retreated, as though in fear. Wanting to destroy them, Queen Indrila ordered her armies to pursue.
This left her numerically superior army moving into dense woods, where they could not effectively fight in formation. After drawing them in to a point where they could not easily retreat back onto open ground, the half-elves halted their retreat, encircled the human army, and decimated them in the forest with arrows and skirmishing. By the end of two days of this, the Velprin forces had been entirely wiped out, down to the Queen herself.
Brindor Olósynne, the leader of the half-elven militia, declared the fighting over and sued for peace with the humans of Velprin. The peace negotiations took place in Ingdal's Arm (and they were called the "Peace Talks of Ingdal's Arm"). These peace talks resulted in the unification of both groups, culminating in the birth of Aglarond -- with Brindor Olósynne himself as the first king of this new nation.
The lessons here are manifold:
- First, one needs to resist temptation in war and in other areas of one's life. Queen Indrila pursued her enemies into terrain she could not fight effectively in because she thought she might end the long conflict in a single pitched battle. She was acting on emotion and desire, not logic.
- Second, one needs to mind the terrain. As it turns out, she did end the conflict, but it ended in her defeat. She tried to fight half-elves, with many archers and druids among them, in a forest. She outnumbered them and was better equipped, but her forces couldn't organize into fighting units in the cramped woods and were fighting in terrain they were not used to or trained for fighting in against enemies who were trained to fight there.
- Third, one needs to maintain field security. So many armies have been ambushed and annihilated while on the march. Beyond one's borders, there's no such thing as "friendly territory." Queen Indrila allowed her army to pursue the enemy pell-mell, simply hoping to catch the fleeing half-elves, and so they were not organized to protect themselves when the elves turned around and encircled them. They were thinned out over too large a space, hampering communications, logistics, and their own defensive efforts.
In the end, one must take great care in choosing the time and place of any battle. Brindor Olósynne did this at Ingdal's Arm. Queen Indrila did not. And that is why we know of the kingdom of Aglarond today. And not the kingdom of Velprin.
Recently, I was given a tour of Candlekeep by Tarina. I'd previously described her as a "fascinating woman," and I think that description still stands after spending a little more time with her. She is quite frugal with her words, however. This reticence, as one might imagine, made for a rather short tour. Brevity aside, it was enjoyable nonetheless -- and I can sense that there are hidden depths to her.
It makes the Oghmanyte in me want to start unraveling her mysteries.
It makes the me in me just want to tease her though.
Fortunately, Isabella had given us something of a "goal" for our tour, which helped to give it purpose. She told us to seek out a certain flag of Auril hidden on the grounds of Candlekeep. After finding it, she was able to tell us what little she knew of its story: Apparently a former Gatewarden of the Great Library was, in fact, a devotee of the Frostmaiden!
Isabella, I must note, is another interesting figure. She seems to have worn the crown of leadership for some time now, and I suspect it's a little exhausting for her. In my own experience, there's nothing lonelier than leading. I shall try to befriend her and give her something close to an equal to lean on. Though perhaps I am giving myself too much credit here? Or perhaps I am reading too much of myself into her? Time will tell, I suppose.
In any case, we were discussing the Frostmaiden and other things -- with the arrival of my most-like-a-friend-so-far friend Emrys -- when we were suddenly interrupted by Lucia and (in my eyes) a quite famous gnome named Vabo. Apparently, the pair had survived an attack by a band of powerful undead warriors. After speaking several lines of prophecy or religious poetry, Lucia collapsed to the ground of exhaustion.
While Vabo and I tended to Lucia, the others tried to puzzle out some of what might be happening. There was some mention of gems. It sounded like the undead might be searching for them? I don't know that we made any significant breakthroughs in the short discussion, but it is enough to know for now that it is dangerous to travel alone. I shall take extra care on my sojourns out of Candlekeep.
F I T N E S S - L O G :
I ate too much today, I fear. And I exercised too little.
I'll have to take care not to allow myself to get out of shape. The Sword Coast seems to be a relatively peaceful place right now, attacks by the undead notwithstanding, and the food is good. But one must practice what they preach: A sound body promotes a sound mind.
T A C T I C A L - R E V I E W :
Today, I look back at my own history. The value of history is that it allows us to learn from the experiences of others -- to not have to make the same mistakes they made to make the same progress. But we are fallible creatures, and mistakes are made regardless.
This is how we build wisdom on our own.
Of the two ways to build wisdom, however, building wisdom from the mistakes of others is always to be preferred to making those mistakes yourself. Learning through error is often costlier than learning by example.
In this particular case of mine, that especially holds true. For today I look back to a time when I "built wisdom on my own." To a time when I gained insight through a costly mistake. For you see, I fear my pride is a particular weakness of mine -- a weakness I normally take great care to rein in. But, on the day of this story, I let my pride get the better of me. And it led me, and all those who placed their faith in me, directly into a trap.
In military circles, a Cormyrian word is sometimes used to describe a commander's ability to quickly take the "lay of the land," as it were, at a single glance. To get the whole picture in an instant, and to see all of the possibilities of the battlefield. The term is "coup d'œil." I'm told that it means "stroke of the eye." It is sometimes described as an innate ability of history's truly great generals. The best definition I've heard for the term is as follows: "When all is said and done, it really is the commander's coup d'œil, his ability to see things simply, to identify the whole business of war completely with himself, that is the essence of good generalship. Only if the mind works in this comprehensive fashion can it achieve the freedom it needs to dominate events and not be dominated by them."
Well, I thought I had this skill. But one day, several years ago, I learned in painful fashion that my own coup d'œil is still in need of some sharpening. We were at sea, pursuing a Cormyrian vessel we had gotten the better of towards the isle of Prespur. Now, everyone who knows the Sea of Fallen Stars knows that Prespur is largely controlled by the Blue Dragons -- Cormyr's Royal Navy -- but we were nearly upon our quarry and our ship's mage assured me that she could bring the winds we needed to close the gap.
So I gave the order to continue pursuit.
Right into a barrage of withering ballistae fire.
By my luck, one of the Cormyrian flagships was at Prespur at that occasion, and it let loose upon us from great distance (likely empowered by its own ship's mages -- "war wizards," they call them). The blow splintered great portions of our ship and nearly knocked us out of the water. Dozens of my sailors and marines were dead or bleeding in its wake. As soon as I found my feet and assessed the situation, I ordered an immediate retreat and we broke off our pursuit. Just like that, the hunters had become the prey -- and it was mostly by luck that we outran the damned Dragons and made it back to Cimbar.
But in that day, I learned a valuable lesson. Sometimes one must measure the risks and swallow one's pride: Boldness sometimes wins battles, but prudence always saves lives. And because I had practiced the former at the expense of the latter, men and women were dead because of me. We hadn't even taken our prize.
This was not my only loss, not by a long shot, but it is one that haunts me more than some of the others: For it wasn't a loss born of the enemy's skill or positioning. It was a preventable loss: A loss born of my own foolish ego. I only wish this battle would have been the last time my pride got me in trouble, but Oghma above knows that has not been the case . . .
