The Phylactery -Kyr'st E. D'rugen
Posted: Tue Feb 02, 2021 10:11 pm
Epilogue
1 Nightal, 1356 There are many accounts of chroniclers losing their minds during their travels only to be restored by the very diaries they keep. Indeed, many a pox can befall even the most stalwart mind as time eventually erodes the very fabric of what binds our mental stability. Senility is the least of these threats to my kin such that; As a Ilythiiri of the Underdark, I am not likely privileged to a gradual demise of cognition. That is a condition left to the Rivvin on the Night Above. It is more likely the timely spell of an enemy or the blow from a calculating assailant will be what staggers my ability to recall anything meaningful. That is, if I am unkilled in the process. So be it, this is my phylactery of a sort. Quill and parch and ink. A place where my potentially broken mind can perhaps journey and be renewed on what has come to pass. Should I find the fortune to stumble across these pages and retain the ability to read of course. Certainly, a contingency needs to be in place to direct me here should these misfortunes strike. This is the beginning I suppose.
4 Nightal 1356
Leaving Maerimydra was not as difficult as I initially assumed it would be. In fact, I did not expect to survive the journey at all. Despite my all the possessions I acquired en-exodus and my practical cunning the probability of surviving the horrors that lie ahead paled in comparison to the Lolthites that pursued me. It was a time in my life where I had never been more certain of death yet. . .never felt more alive. Curious how a paradoxical heart endures.
My sudden expulsion from the apprenticeship severed any political immunity I had garnished and imposed a disfavor from the Yath that I should never recover. How could I blame them? As they behaved like spiders and claimed to eat their rivals, I am the one who weaved the webs. Therefore, I believe Lolth adores me. Not in a healthy reciprocal way mind you. I am after all a lowly male. But in a way that the lake adores a boat skimming across its’ surface. Leaving unbalanced waves which glide to the shore. Yet all too willing to swallow it whole and drag it to the depths.
There has been a profound complication though. During my solo journey through the halls of horrors I encountered a rather feral jaluk. A sargtlin rather, who seemed more beast than sentient being. I do not jest yet, it pains my ego to say what may have befallen me had he been anywhere else at that particular time. Indeed, my rotting corpse would be feeding the carrion crawlers if it weren’t for his timely intervention. I lament to say it was one of the few times in my life that a blunder nearly resulted in a humiliating death. Had this Vicirahc been of the conspiring mind, he could have left me to my fate and picked clean my bones of wonderous magical items. He would never have to work another day in his life! Yet here I am, alive and compelled to allow his company because of this morbid curiosity.
8 Hammer 1357
Sschindrylyn is a welcome haven for our temporary reprieve. The caverns of the Middle Dark are teeming with threats every cycle. The monsters and beasts seem to denounce reverie for a chance at a taste of our blood. I say "our" because Vic, as I have come to refer, is still with me. At first I pegged him as an aimless vagrant, preying upon the remains of what little fortunes fate throws his way. Now I am convinced that he searches for something. I want to assume it is for the next fight. But my intuition tells me otherwise. He possesses a quiet anger, always positively charged for primal retribution. As if in a perpetual state of being the violated and the violator. This seething thing I theory, is both the essence of his limitations and the frightening efficacy of his might. The Carrion Crawlers would testify to that. We take little time in this city since it is dominated by zealots. Although we are able to stay under-divination due to the presence of a robust and healthy merchant presence. There is strife in this city of Lolth, as there always is. Though the tension resides over some fantastic portal found within Sschindrylyn’s domain. I wish we had the time to investigate further, but I know that my adversaries would close the distance. We decide to forego rest and commission a caravan to carry us west.
12 Hammer 1357
The caravan was beset by many raiders during the long journey, but all were repelled with minimal loss to drow life. All rothen fodder were lost and those who were maimed were slaughtered on the spot. Vic has been restless, and it is clear he does not appreciate the more idle times of an Ilythiiri’s life. For me, those times are spent in study and the merchant caravan affords me a great deal of tomes to “borrow” while I have some time to myself.
26 Hammer 1357
Disaster for the caravan. As I predicted. Without the rothen most of the merchants were reluctant to stick their necks out to defend material treasures. Being that we were beset by Mindflayers didn’t help the odds either. I counted six during the madness. Though they were unable to detect me. As it turns out, all that snooping I did back home finally paid off in practice. Vic wasn’t so fortunate…well, if it hadn’t been for me. Although the entire caravan was overwhelmed and most were scattered to the depths or killed in ways I dare not utter here, Vic and I survived. I found him struggling against an Illithid who had enveloped the sargtlin completely. Those greasy tendrils has already made their way into his nasal cavity. I could see it in his eyes that they had not taken hold of the sweet meat they so desired. A well placed strike with my blade severed the mindflayer’s penetration of my companion. This was all the time Vicirahc needed to literally bite the things throat out. I feel we came to a conclusion at that moment. Perhaps our journey together was meant to endure a bit longer.
27 Hammer 1357
Sshamath
We have arrived. Strangely enough our trek from the ruin of the caravan was rather peaceful compared to the carnage that was set before us nearly every step from Maerimydra. Sshamath is a busy city and a welcome energy is elicited from its’ bowels. There is no quiet tension here, just open and flagrant contests of will. This is a faern’s city.
28 Hammer 1357
Vic and I have begun the subtle steps to infuse ourselves into society. I’ll be honest, Vicirahc is not one for social eloquence but he does seem to tolerate the chaotic business of this city. Even a predator like him can appreciate the limitless opportunity for. . .whatever. For me, I look forward to visiting Stonestave and the flirty librarian on the bazaar outskirts.
30 Hammer 1357
Things are progressing well. I have found several marks who happily divulge information best left to the underground rather than pay coin to their failed bets. Though I still seek a solid and reputable source.
Vic and I have encountered our first Lolthite noble, if you want to call him such a thing. Zygorian or Zvyarian of House Auvrvega? It does not matter. Never have I seen such a desperate display of strength. Why, in the first five candle flicks alone of our interaction he managed to bestow all of his strengths and weaknesses. He seemed to think we are enamored with flame and speed. As if such things may validate him as a force to contend with. He may attempt to carry the title of a noble Quellar, but he possesses the eloquence and intelligence of a gol. It is amusing to see such insecurity devour pitiful jaluks like him.
31 Hammer 1357
Vicirahc is contending with quite the learner’s curve here in the outreaches of Sshamath. The creatures are well prepared against drow assault and have gone to drastic measures in order to repel us. This forces us to consider our tactics differently, drawing on strategic competence rather than full forward brutality. In any case, I should probably complete my study on energy immunities to compensate for the ring I gifted Vic. But I have a few research articles to publish first. I have commissioned a new sargtlin and a rather interesting counterpart to Vic. Where he is given to sheer rage and carnage, she is measured and calculating. To see them in battle together is. . .well, they suck right now. But I observe a coin and its’ two faces and see potential value in them together. There have been glimpses, breathtaking observations of what they could be on a battlefield. I cannot help but smile.
1 Alturiak 1357
A priviledged encounter with an amazingly beautiful noble from House Zau’afin. Haelayna is her name, whose elegance and presence did not disappoint. Chalindra (the female sargtlin I failed to mention before) and Vic were there as we conversed just outside the Gloura’s Wings. Things were going swimmingly until, Zyvorial arrived. Never before had I ever seen someone so desperate to impress their worth upon others. After another five candle flicks with this supposed noble of Auvryath, I finally realized that he is exactly the opposite of what he wishes to be. In DragonChess he would most certainly be a Pawn, only capable of seeing and attacking what is directly in front of him. The irony is and likely lost to his feeble mind, those pieces get sacrificed first. I am still undecided whether or not to tell Haelayna that the pathetic Zymorias insulted her Quellar as we passed by it a few cycles ago. He only hates what he believes he can defeat and grovels before what he cannot. A delightful coward.
1 Nightal, 1356 There are many accounts of chroniclers losing their minds during their travels only to be restored by the very diaries they keep. Indeed, many a pox can befall even the most stalwart mind as time eventually erodes the very fabric of what binds our mental stability. Senility is the least of these threats to my kin such that; As a Ilythiiri of the Underdark, I am not likely privileged to a gradual demise of cognition. That is a condition left to the Rivvin on the Night Above. It is more likely the timely spell of an enemy or the blow from a calculating assailant will be what staggers my ability to recall anything meaningful. That is, if I am unkilled in the process. So be it, this is my phylactery of a sort. Quill and parch and ink. A place where my potentially broken mind can perhaps journey and be renewed on what has come to pass. Should I find the fortune to stumble across these pages and retain the ability to read of course. Certainly, a contingency needs to be in place to direct me here should these misfortunes strike. This is the beginning I suppose.
4 Nightal 1356
Leaving Maerimydra was not as difficult as I initially assumed it would be. In fact, I did not expect to survive the journey at all. Despite my all the possessions I acquired en-exodus and my practical cunning the probability of surviving the horrors that lie ahead paled in comparison to the Lolthites that pursued me. It was a time in my life where I had never been more certain of death yet. . .never felt more alive. Curious how a paradoxical heart endures.
My sudden expulsion from the apprenticeship severed any political immunity I had garnished and imposed a disfavor from the Yath that I should never recover. How could I blame them? As they behaved like spiders and claimed to eat their rivals, I am the one who weaved the webs. Therefore, I believe Lolth adores me. Not in a healthy reciprocal way mind you. I am after all a lowly male. But in a way that the lake adores a boat skimming across its’ surface. Leaving unbalanced waves which glide to the shore. Yet all too willing to swallow it whole and drag it to the depths.
There has been a profound complication though. During my solo journey through the halls of horrors I encountered a rather feral jaluk. A sargtlin rather, who seemed more beast than sentient being. I do not jest yet, it pains my ego to say what may have befallen me had he been anywhere else at that particular time. Indeed, my rotting corpse would be feeding the carrion crawlers if it weren’t for his timely intervention. I lament to say it was one of the few times in my life that a blunder nearly resulted in a humiliating death. Had this Vicirahc been of the conspiring mind, he could have left me to my fate and picked clean my bones of wonderous magical items. He would never have to work another day in his life! Yet here I am, alive and compelled to allow his company because of this morbid curiosity.
8 Hammer 1357
Sschindrylyn is a welcome haven for our temporary reprieve. The caverns of the Middle Dark are teeming with threats every cycle. The monsters and beasts seem to denounce reverie for a chance at a taste of our blood. I say "our" because Vic, as I have come to refer, is still with me. At first I pegged him as an aimless vagrant, preying upon the remains of what little fortunes fate throws his way. Now I am convinced that he searches for something. I want to assume it is for the next fight. But my intuition tells me otherwise. He possesses a quiet anger, always positively charged for primal retribution. As if in a perpetual state of being the violated and the violator. This seething thing I theory, is both the essence of his limitations and the frightening efficacy of his might. The Carrion Crawlers would testify to that. We take little time in this city since it is dominated by zealots. Although we are able to stay under-divination due to the presence of a robust and healthy merchant presence. There is strife in this city of Lolth, as there always is. Though the tension resides over some fantastic portal found within Sschindrylyn’s domain. I wish we had the time to investigate further, but I know that my adversaries would close the distance. We decide to forego rest and commission a caravan to carry us west.
12 Hammer 1357
The caravan was beset by many raiders during the long journey, but all were repelled with minimal loss to drow life. All rothen fodder were lost and those who were maimed were slaughtered on the spot. Vic has been restless, and it is clear he does not appreciate the more idle times of an Ilythiiri’s life. For me, those times are spent in study and the merchant caravan affords me a great deal of tomes to “borrow” while I have some time to myself.
26 Hammer 1357
Disaster for the caravan. As I predicted. Without the rothen most of the merchants were reluctant to stick their necks out to defend material treasures. Being that we were beset by Mindflayers didn’t help the odds either. I counted six during the madness. Though they were unable to detect me. As it turns out, all that snooping I did back home finally paid off in practice. Vic wasn’t so fortunate…well, if it hadn’t been for me. Although the entire caravan was overwhelmed and most were scattered to the depths or killed in ways I dare not utter here, Vic and I survived. I found him struggling against an Illithid who had enveloped the sargtlin completely. Those greasy tendrils has already made their way into his nasal cavity. I could see it in his eyes that they had not taken hold of the sweet meat they so desired. A well placed strike with my blade severed the mindflayer’s penetration of my companion. This was all the time Vicirahc needed to literally bite the things throat out. I feel we came to a conclusion at that moment. Perhaps our journey together was meant to endure a bit longer.
27 Hammer 1357
Sshamath
We have arrived. Strangely enough our trek from the ruin of the caravan was rather peaceful compared to the carnage that was set before us nearly every step from Maerimydra. Sshamath is a busy city and a welcome energy is elicited from its’ bowels. There is no quiet tension here, just open and flagrant contests of will. This is a faern’s city.
28 Hammer 1357
Vic and I have begun the subtle steps to infuse ourselves into society. I’ll be honest, Vicirahc is not one for social eloquence but he does seem to tolerate the chaotic business of this city. Even a predator like him can appreciate the limitless opportunity for. . .whatever. For me, I look forward to visiting Stonestave and the flirty librarian on the bazaar outskirts.
30 Hammer 1357
Things are progressing well. I have found several marks who happily divulge information best left to the underground rather than pay coin to their failed bets. Though I still seek a solid and reputable source.
Vic and I have encountered our first Lolthite noble, if you want to call him such a thing. Zygorian or Zvyarian of House Auvrvega? It does not matter. Never have I seen such a desperate display of strength. Why, in the first five candle flicks alone of our interaction he managed to bestow all of his strengths and weaknesses. He seemed to think we are enamored with flame and speed. As if such things may validate him as a force to contend with. He may attempt to carry the title of a noble Quellar, but he possesses the eloquence and intelligence of a gol. It is amusing to see such insecurity devour pitiful jaluks like him.
31 Hammer 1357
Vicirahc is contending with quite the learner’s curve here in the outreaches of Sshamath. The creatures are well prepared against drow assault and have gone to drastic measures in order to repel us. This forces us to consider our tactics differently, drawing on strategic competence rather than full forward brutality. In any case, I should probably complete my study on energy immunities to compensate for the ring I gifted Vic. But I have a few research articles to publish first. I have commissioned a new sargtlin and a rather interesting counterpart to Vic. Where he is given to sheer rage and carnage, she is measured and calculating. To see them in battle together is. . .well, they suck right now. But I observe a coin and its’ two faces and see potential value in them together. There have been glimpses, breathtaking observations of what they could be on a battlefield. I cannot help but smile.
1 Alturiak 1357
A priviledged encounter with an amazingly beautiful noble from House Zau’afin. Haelayna is her name, whose elegance and presence did not disappoint. Chalindra (the female sargtlin I failed to mention before) and Vic were there as we conversed just outside the Gloura’s Wings. Things were going swimmingly until, Zyvorial arrived. Never before had I ever seen someone so desperate to impress their worth upon others. After another five candle flicks with this supposed noble of Auvryath, I finally realized that he is exactly the opposite of what he wishes to be. In DragonChess he would most certainly be a Pawn, only capable of seeing and attacking what is directly in front of him. The irony is and likely lost to his feeble mind, those pieces get sacrificed first. I am still undecided whether or not to tell Haelayna that the pathetic Zymorias insulted her Quellar as we passed by it a few cycles ago. He only hates what he believes he can defeat and grovels before what he cannot. A delightful coward.