[Journal] The MisAdventures of Caludur Byne
darthchair
Member Posts: 191
(Being that this is my Baldur's Gate character's journal...I should probably mention there will be spoilers. OH MY GOD! SPOILERS! WHY?!? Originally I figured this would go in Roleplay, but since this isn't an actual piece of interactive fiction, I was told it doesn't belong there. So General is my home! Hurray! ))
Day 1:
Dear Diary, wait...diaries are for sissies. I'm just going to go with journal. That sounds better right? Journal. Much better. Less feminine.
Note to self: Beat up someone today in order to feel more like a man.
Well now that we have decided that you will forever be known as "Journal" and I will be writing to you in first person narrative style as if you were actually reading this (which is a bit odd, don't you think?), I suppose I should give an explanation as to why I am starting you in the first place.
I won a trip! Yes, that's right...Gorion told me all about it. He said something about how the iron industry was crumbling, and that we were going to start having to import from other lands or something. He might have said something about danger. But that's just silly. No one enters Candlekeep. The only people that do are the really brainy sorts that bring in books to get past the gate. Books! What good has a book ever done? Well besides getting me a romp in the hay with ol' Phlydia, if you know what I mean. Heh heh. I guess you don't though because you're a stupid book. But that's alright with me. So Gorion asks me how much he thought I would need to plan out my all-expense paid trip throughout the Sword Coast, and I said a thousand gold pieces.
I settled for one-fifty.
***
So there I was, getting ready to buy everything and anything that I might need in Winthrop's Inn (ALE! MEAD! WINE!) and the idiot tells me that I owe him a great deal of money. It's a good thing he admitted to joking around, because I was ready to break my quarterstaff over his fat, bald head. That might seem a bit rash, but I've been taking his verbal abuse for awhile now. Oh he got a big chuckle about my naivety or some such nonsense, but you better believe I glared at him when I accepted my first tankard of Bitter Black Ale (and you better keep pouring them you sodding fool!)
In between drinks, and a few attempts at groping the barwench's backside, I tried to get Winthrop to start talking. Mostly about my free expense paid trip, of course. The innskeeper wouldn't really talk though. I figured I might be able to mess with Gorion's plans by offering to stay the night. However, if he was involved in what my foster-father was planning, well, I'll never know. In fact, I never noticed before, but all Winthrop ever seemed to do was wipe that blasted counter down with his rag. He'd even do it in between conversations. "Why yes, Caludur, I always have a room for you," he'd say while wiping. I thought about attempting to steal something, but I didn't really think I'd get very far. That would have required getting very close to Winthrop and have you smelled the man's breath? The only thing worse are his teeth. Foul things. Still it seems like he is in a pretty good mood. Hasn't asked me to kill any rats in his basement yet this month.
A guard popped into the tavern while I was trying to determine whether or not it would be entertaining to sass a bunch of foolishly dressed nobles that were visiting town. They seemed the sort that would pretend that you were there friend, but wouldn't want to be caught dead near you because you were "common folk." Considering that we don't really have a noble caste in Candlekeep it sort of seemed silly to me. If anything...they should treat me with respect right? I'm Gorion's fosterchild. They should respect me, damn it. I should tell Gorion, but he'd probably just glower at me like he normally does when he thinks I said something stupid. Thanks dad.
So about that guard. That's when it occurred to me. I had all this money, and what I had always dreamed of was to stomp out of Candlekeep and kill things. I suppose that is kind of a silly dream, right? And I don't mean like actual people things, like men and women and small children. But you know...birds, hamsters, dragons...or maybe even the dreaded Bloodmaw! Scared right? I mean just the visualize of a mouth oozing with blood is pretty disturbing, but this isn't just any maw. This is toothy, blood-filled maw of the most vicious bear ever to set forth in the Sword Coast! Rumors have set the bear somewhere east of Candlekeep. And if I'm going to go on an expense paid trip, I might as well go and slay that monstrocity and fetch myself a nice cloak or rug from him. Or better yet...perhaps I could hollow out his feet and paws and fashion for myself a nice set of gloves and boots.
Perfect! Razor sharp nails all over...I'd be the deadliest warrior. Kicking and slashing all my enemies! But not people. I can't have people being my enemies because I don't think anyone would like that very much. I mean people have families. And who wants to be the guy to tell some person's family that you were the terrible cretin who slayed their brother or sister or husband or...well I suppose you could just exterminate their entire family.
Note to self: Leave no witnesses!
This is why keeping a journal is stupid, by the way, Journal, old buddy, old pal. I mean, here I am trying to have a conversation with you, while you gleefully soak up everything I say, and offer no judgment to my thoughts, and suddenly I realize I have no idea what I was going on about anyway. Oh right. Murder. I want to murder things, Journal. I want to kill them dead! Bleed them bloody! And in order to do that I need weapons! Right? So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to procure some weapons from Winthrop "for this trip of mine" and maybe some armor so it won't hurt when...animals...hit me. And then we'll be good. Right-o!
***
Well that was a waste.
Apparently Winthrop has never heard of platemail before. He's also never heard of magically enchanted items. Oh sure he's got weapons...swords, clubs, crossbows, but nothing that I would really be impressed by. He had the nerve to defend himself and say that nothing would dare try to penetrate Candlekeep's walls. I giggled a little. I don't know why, but I suddenly thought of Phlydia again. I wonder what she's up to. Actually, now that I think about it, I think I saw her meandering about just outside the inn. Hmm...Journal, are you thinking what I'm thinking? It's not like she's ever doing anything important. And if she was, she probably forgot what it was anyway. Yeah, she could definitely use a distraction. I know I could. I hope her favorite book is in the hay where I left it again...the chivalry ploy never grows old.
Anyway I guess you're probably wondering what I purchased. Well I bought a slightly dented helmet with horns on it. Two outlandishly large horns jetting out from the sides. I figure should I feel backed into a corner I can always charge into something. I'm sure that would hurt. And I figure it can't hurt me since that's the whole point of wearing a helmet right? I think the helmet is slightly used though, despite Winthrop's defense. It just smells like sweat and dried blood. He made the comment that I should be thankful since a lot of weapons and armor shipments in other places are rumored to be very poor lately. I guess dwarves are terrible miners after all. Go figure.
I also purchased the pointiest long sword I could find. I'm going to have to give it a name since all adventurers name things. I think I might call it Pointy Death Stab. I'm not entirely sure. It's a work in progress. Oh and everyone is going to just love this large shield that I purchased. It's about as tall as me I think. I already put it to good use by making Winthrop talk to it whenever I didn't want to look at him anymore. "Talk to the shield, cause this hero don't want to see you're face anymore!" I said to him. Winthrop was not amused. I didn't care.
I think I was just angry with him because he wouldn't buy my quarterstaff. He told me that he didn't live to be as old and fat as he was buying sticks off people. I told him that the two of us seemed to be in a sticky situation. It's hypocritical that people that tell terrible jokes never seem to approve of receiving terrible jokes in return. I asked the barwench if she wanted my stick and for a second I thought I was hit by a magic missile. Turned out to just be her glare. Icy women work at inns. Remember that Journal. That warning could save your life!
So now that I'm all set for my all expense paid trip, I guess it's time to show off my new armor and shiny weaponry to all my friends. That's a joke. Do you think the fosterchild of Gorion actually has any friends? Hah! Well...there's Imoen. But she's annoying. I would make up lies about her just so people would yell at her and make her cry. But she isn't very smart cause she keeps following me everywhere I go. She's also a thief. How can you trust a thief? I mean really...well...I guess she could be useful if I ever wanted to jump into a life of ripping people off and thievery. But she's too optimistic and happy. Ew.
Ol' Firebeard is trying to get my attention. Looks like I have to go. I'm just going to stick my shield out and keep walking. Maybe he won't see me. Yes, with this shield, I feel invisible. Just keep walking...walking...walking...
Day 1:
Dear Diary, wait...diaries are for sissies. I'm just going to go with journal. That sounds better right? Journal. Much better. Less feminine.
Note to self: Beat up someone today in order to feel more like a man.
Well now that we have decided that you will forever be known as "Journal" and I will be writing to you in first person narrative style as if you were actually reading this (which is a bit odd, don't you think?), I suppose I should give an explanation as to why I am starting you in the first place.
I won a trip! Yes, that's right...Gorion told me all about it. He said something about how the iron industry was crumbling, and that we were going to start having to import from other lands or something. He might have said something about danger. But that's just silly. No one enters Candlekeep. The only people that do are the really brainy sorts that bring in books to get past the gate. Books! What good has a book ever done? Well besides getting me a romp in the hay with ol' Phlydia, if you know what I mean. Heh heh. I guess you don't though because you're a stupid book. But that's alright with me. So Gorion asks me how much he thought I would need to plan out my all-expense paid trip throughout the Sword Coast, and I said a thousand gold pieces.
I settled for one-fifty.
***
So there I was, getting ready to buy everything and anything that I might need in Winthrop's Inn (ALE! MEAD! WINE!) and the idiot tells me that I owe him a great deal of money. It's a good thing he admitted to joking around, because I was ready to break my quarterstaff over his fat, bald head. That might seem a bit rash, but I've been taking his verbal abuse for awhile now. Oh he got a big chuckle about my naivety or some such nonsense, but you better believe I glared at him when I accepted my first tankard of Bitter Black Ale (and you better keep pouring them you sodding fool!)
In between drinks, and a few attempts at groping the barwench's backside, I tried to get Winthrop to start talking. Mostly about my free expense paid trip, of course. The innskeeper wouldn't really talk though. I figured I might be able to mess with Gorion's plans by offering to stay the night. However, if he was involved in what my foster-father was planning, well, I'll never know. In fact, I never noticed before, but all Winthrop ever seemed to do was wipe that blasted counter down with his rag. He'd even do it in between conversations. "Why yes, Caludur, I always have a room for you," he'd say while wiping. I thought about attempting to steal something, but I didn't really think I'd get very far. That would have required getting very close to Winthrop and have you smelled the man's breath? The only thing worse are his teeth. Foul things. Still it seems like he is in a pretty good mood. Hasn't asked me to kill any rats in his basement yet this month.
A guard popped into the tavern while I was trying to determine whether or not it would be entertaining to sass a bunch of foolishly dressed nobles that were visiting town. They seemed the sort that would pretend that you were there friend, but wouldn't want to be caught dead near you because you were "common folk." Considering that we don't really have a noble caste in Candlekeep it sort of seemed silly to me. If anything...they should treat me with respect right? I'm Gorion's fosterchild. They should respect me, damn it. I should tell Gorion, but he'd probably just glower at me like he normally does when he thinks I said something stupid. Thanks dad.
So about that guard. That's when it occurred to me. I had all this money, and what I had always dreamed of was to stomp out of Candlekeep and kill things. I suppose that is kind of a silly dream, right? And I don't mean like actual people things, like men and women and small children. But you know...birds, hamsters, dragons...or maybe even the dreaded Bloodmaw! Scared right? I mean just the visualize of a mouth oozing with blood is pretty disturbing, but this isn't just any maw. This is toothy, blood-filled maw of the most vicious bear ever to set forth in the Sword Coast! Rumors have set the bear somewhere east of Candlekeep. And if I'm going to go on an expense paid trip, I might as well go and slay that monstrocity and fetch myself a nice cloak or rug from him. Or better yet...perhaps I could hollow out his feet and paws and fashion for myself a nice set of gloves and boots.
Perfect! Razor sharp nails all over...I'd be the deadliest warrior. Kicking and slashing all my enemies! But not people. I can't have people being my enemies because I don't think anyone would like that very much. I mean people have families. And who wants to be the guy to tell some person's family that you were the terrible cretin who slayed their brother or sister or husband or...well I suppose you could just exterminate their entire family.
Note to self: Leave no witnesses!
This is why keeping a journal is stupid, by the way, Journal, old buddy, old pal. I mean, here I am trying to have a conversation with you, while you gleefully soak up everything I say, and offer no judgment to my thoughts, and suddenly I realize I have no idea what I was going on about anyway. Oh right. Murder. I want to murder things, Journal. I want to kill them dead! Bleed them bloody! And in order to do that I need weapons! Right? So that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to procure some weapons from Winthrop "for this trip of mine" and maybe some armor so it won't hurt when...animals...hit me. And then we'll be good. Right-o!
***
Well that was a waste.
Apparently Winthrop has never heard of platemail before. He's also never heard of magically enchanted items. Oh sure he's got weapons...swords, clubs, crossbows, but nothing that I would really be impressed by. He had the nerve to defend himself and say that nothing would dare try to penetrate Candlekeep's walls. I giggled a little. I don't know why, but I suddenly thought of Phlydia again. I wonder what she's up to. Actually, now that I think about it, I think I saw her meandering about just outside the inn. Hmm...Journal, are you thinking what I'm thinking? It's not like she's ever doing anything important. And if she was, she probably forgot what it was anyway. Yeah, she could definitely use a distraction. I know I could. I hope her favorite book is in the hay where I left it again...the chivalry ploy never grows old.
Anyway I guess you're probably wondering what I purchased. Well I bought a slightly dented helmet with horns on it. Two outlandishly large horns jetting out from the sides. I figure should I feel backed into a corner I can always charge into something. I'm sure that would hurt. And I figure it can't hurt me since that's the whole point of wearing a helmet right? I think the helmet is slightly used though, despite Winthrop's defense. It just smells like sweat and dried blood. He made the comment that I should be thankful since a lot of weapons and armor shipments in other places are rumored to be very poor lately. I guess dwarves are terrible miners after all. Go figure.
I also purchased the pointiest long sword I could find. I'm going to have to give it a name since all adventurers name things. I think I might call it Pointy Death Stab. I'm not entirely sure. It's a work in progress. Oh and everyone is going to just love this large shield that I purchased. It's about as tall as me I think. I already put it to good use by making Winthrop talk to it whenever I didn't want to look at him anymore. "Talk to the shield, cause this hero don't want to see you're face anymore!" I said to him. Winthrop was not amused. I didn't care.
I think I was just angry with him because he wouldn't buy my quarterstaff. He told me that he didn't live to be as old and fat as he was buying sticks off people. I told him that the two of us seemed to be in a sticky situation. It's hypocritical that people that tell terrible jokes never seem to approve of receiving terrible jokes in return. I asked the barwench if she wanted my stick and for a second I thought I was hit by a magic missile. Turned out to just be her glare. Icy women work at inns. Remember that Journal. That warning could save your life!
So now that I'm all set for my all expense paid trip, I guess it's time to show off my new armor and shiny weaponry to all my friends. That's a joke. Do you think the fosterchild of Gorion actually has any friends? Hah! Well...there's Imoen. But she's annoying. I would make up lies about her just so people would yell at her and make her cry. But she isn't very smart cause she keeps following me everywhere I go. She's also a thief. How can you trust a thief? I mean really...well...I guess she could be useful if I ever wanted to jump into a life of ripping people off and thievery. But she's too optimistic and happy. Ew.
Ol' Firebeard is trying to get my attention. Looks like I have to go. I'm just going to stick my shield out and keep walking. Maybe he won't see me. Yes, with this shield, I feel invisible. Just keep walking...walking...walking...
Post edited by darthchair on
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Comments
So ol' Firebeard thinks I'm just going to go outta my way and retrieve his scroll? Let the crotchety old man get his own scroll. Gorion is taking me on a trip, I don't need to worry about anything. Sides...last time I did something for him he "rewarded" me by casting a detect evil spell on me. As if I honestly give a rat's behind who or what is evil. Would much prefer a "detect girl's naughty bits" spell or something. The quaint amusements at Candlekeep, oh my dear beloved Journal, how you will come to know them as you reach maturity.
Note to self: Try not to run like a girl after running Firebeard down with your shield. His spells can't hurt you that badly you goof!
***
Dear Journal,
You won't believe who I bumped into leaving the inn! Well...more like face planted...but that's besides the point. I ran into Miss Lost My Book Again herself! I did the usual. I feigned interest. I chivalrously promised her that I would get right down to this missing book business (she leaves her clothes in the hay too sometimes...what a buffoon). And well...she gave me a delicious kiss on the lips and told me she would have a reward for me as soon as I found it. I pretended, of course, that this was really annoying and that I didn't have time for any of this since I was going on the trip of a lifetime (she actually thought I would invite her to go, can you believe it? Oh well she'll probably forget once I'm gone). And that was that. The walk wasn't too far, to be quite honest, although going to the hay is in the trajectory of ol' Dreppin who never shuts up. I winced as he was telling me that the two of us would go places one day, and that his geriatric cow was sick.
Am I a bad person for not being sympathetic? Am I a bad person for waiting for Dreppin to turn so I could throw a rock as his pitiful excuse for a bovine? Yeah, you're right, Journal, it was the right thing to do. It made me feel better anyway. Hay is scratchy. I need to start hiding Phlydia's book somewhere else. Perhaps the fountain at the library.
I'm going to go find the girl and have my way with her. I suppose if you're lucky, I'll come back and write about it. Or maybe you'll just have to guess. Actually I don't think I'm really the kind to kiss and tell. Am I? Hmm...well I'll tell you one thing. There better be easy women on my all expense paid trip. Otherwise I'll turn my armored hide back around and Gorion can stick it.
***
Someone just tried to kill me! I was randomly wandering about Candlekeep (someone said that the Priest of Oghma was giving out free potions, and I'm not one to pass up free) when I noticed a shadowy figure sneaking into one of the houses east of the inn. Now I know what you're thinking...how did I know this was a shadowy figure that was doing some sneaking. Well I'll tell you how...I saw him crawling right into the window. That's what shady people do. And so I tried the front door to confront him about it.
Now that might seem a bit strange. I know, I know, I'm not really the type of person that just randomly intervenes whenever someone is in need of something or another, but you know...I had a good feeling about this one. I just knew there would be some lovely damsel in distress who needed my aid.
My intuition stinks.
First of all...the shady figure started talking to me. I found it quite odd considering how awkward it should have been. He doesn't belong in the house, I don't belong in the house, you know...usually there is a moment where both sets of eyes lock and you plan on your next move. Not this guy. I don't remember exactly what he said, but basically it was, "Hi. I just met you, and this is craaaaazy, but here's my dagger. I'm gonna kill you, maybe!"
Now I'm not one to disappoint when they want a fight. After all...I did happen to buy the pointiest long sword that I could. And so while he was rushing me with his dagger I unsheathed my long sword and slashed it at him. Oh you should have heard that glorious chime in the wind as my sword swished in the air. Red mist seemed to issue forth a new era of my ability to kick ass. The gods sang of sacrifice! And as for me? Well I was just tickled pink that my sword actually made contact and I killed the bastard.
Now hold on a moment. Don't judge me! I know how I said I wouldn't go on wanton killing sprees with people-type things involved. But I would be lying to you to say that it didn't feel good. I also got a free dagger to boot! Woohoo! I thought about taking one of his ears for a souvenir, but then that just seemed tacky.
Gods, I have such a rush! Won't Gorion be thrilled? I feel like a real man now. I always thought you felt like a man when you had sex. Hardly. That's kid stuff. Killing some talkative sociopath that apparently slips into houses waiting for the random moment when another stranger also breaks into a house...is just absolutely fantastically fulfilling. Oh look...someone is coming to investigate. Hmmm...well at least there's only one story to tell.
***
The Priest of Oghma is pretty smart. I tried to see if wearing a fake beard would grant me another free potion, but he wouldn't budge. I also asked him if I could have one for Gorion, but again, nothing. Jerk. I told him I would remember his insolence one day. He didn't seem to really pay me any heed though. I guess in the end...if you have the power to heal and bring back the dead and end curses...and most other people don't, you probably see the normal, everyday folk as pretty small too. One day, though, one day. I think I'm just saying that I want more free potions. You can cry me a river later, Journal. I heard they are setting up some kind of combat practice around here. Some illusionist or some such. Sounds exciting. My imagination can create some pretty incredible scenarios. I got this!
***
Illusionist was a real interesting guy. He kept summoning all kinds of monsters. I personally liked the Hobgoblins. See...when they died, I realized that unlike the other illusionary monsters, they left suits of leather armor when they fell. I was pretty sure Winthrop would be happy to pay gold for illusionary monster armor, so I kept telling the Illusionist that I wanted to kill more. He seemed to be quite excited that someone appreciated his abilities. I can't say that for my makeshift party of would-be adventurers though. They pretty much just groaned. They also didn't seem to like the fact that I was declaring myself the leader. Something about how I was the last guy to show up, and that I wasn't even invited anyway. Pfft. I'm the foster son of the Great Gorion! I can do whatever I want. Course it probably wasn't very nice that I left them amidst the last Hobgoblin battle to start stuffing leather armor into my bag. No one seemed to notice until the Illusionist started getting tired and kicked everyone out.
So much armor...I could open up my own bloody store!
***
Note to self: Winthrop doesn't see the value in the leather armor from illusionary monstrosities. He only offered me a gold piece each. Bastard.
(Day 1 to be continued tomorrow! Same Caludur Time, Same Caludur Thread)
Dear Journal,
Someone tried to kill me again! I'm beginning to think that someone outside of Candlekeep is trying to kill me. Isn't that fascinating? I didn't realize people even knew I existed outside of these walls! I feel so loved! And to think, Gorion said I would never amount to anything without him. Well take that, you geriatric old coot! Thanks for the one hundred and fifty gold pieces, by the way, although I'm pretty sure you could have spared more expenses. Bah.
It really is getting tiring though. Same thing as last time. Random house with a random assassin in it waiting to kill me. Whoever hates my guts sure knows that I like to randomly meander into people's homes. I should have been a thief, but I really don't want to grow up like Imoen. I tried telling her that someone wanted me dead, and she just laughed and called me silly and flicked my nose. I'm going to kill her one day, I swear.
I suppose I should stop dillydallying and find Gorion. I'm sure he'd like to know about someone trying to kill me. I suppose in a way I'm just avoiding the inevitable. I have lived in Candlekeep all my life. And suddenly the thought of leaving is quite frightening. I mean I have spent years developing reasons to personally loath each and every one of these morons. Can I equally find the entire world as detestable? I'd say challenge accepted, but I just don't have the heart for it. I'm probably going to fall in love, have babies, maybe get married. Not necessarily in any particular order, of course.
Or...you know...some random assassin will actually figure out a way to say hello to me and stab me with a dagger. Moron. At least this one had a few gold coins on him. But Candlekeep sure isn't safe like it used to be. Perhaps someone should go around selling life insurance just in case you get randomly assaulted when entering your home...
Note to self: START AN INSURANCE BUSINESS!
***
As if my life being threatened was enough both Imoen and Tethoril were waiting for me when I went looking (for real this time for Gorion. Imoen was going on about how she read some letter in my foster father's pocket. I asked if I could see it. Apparently she read it over his shoulder, or jumped inside his pocket or something. I don't understand that girl. The letter concerns me, but she can't be bothered to tell me what in the nine bloody hells is going on? I told her to go away, and also mentioned that she looked like a mangy cat today to make me feel a little better. She sulked a bit and wandered off.
I thought it was going to be smooth sailing until Tethoril suddenly chased me down asking me if I would take some greasy old scroll over to Firebeard Elvenhair. I told Tethoril that his friend had the stupidest name in Faerun. I also told him that he could take his scroll and stuff it where the sun don't shine. He looked a bit hurt. I told him that I have important business with my foster father and that he could have some other idiot do his dirty work.
I really don't understand it. Someone is trying to kill me, and yet these people have nothing better to do than ask me to be their errand boy! Me! THE FOSTER SON OF GORION THE GREAT! I'm practically a prince. Why don't they get that drunkard Hull who was mumbling about forgetting his bloody sword again. If this place gets sacked by monsters, I'm going to spit on Hull's worthless corpse. What kind of town guard forgets their sword? And what kind of administration allows for a drunken guard who forgets his sword to exist? If you ask me...this whole trust thing that Candlekeep has going on is bullocks. Something bad is going to happen one day. Oh wait...it already did. Assassins. And nobody seems to care. I bet those corpses are still rotting in the homes, completely forgotten and unmolested. I sure wouldn't want to be the owners when they get back.
Well I have to get going. I see Gorion standing at the top of the stairs leading to the central library. I guess someone as important as him has nothing better to do than stand at the stop of the stairs all day until his foster son of lesser import has to slum through the chaos of an idiotic town being ravaged by dagger wielding lunatics. Great.
***
Leaving with dad. He seems overly concerned about my safety. I asked for reassurance that Imoen wasn't allowed to come. He thinks I have a crush on her. Disgusting old lout.
***
Hiding. I hear voices all around me in the night. Footsteps crunching against broken twigs, sinking into the soft dirt. They killed him. Gorion. My...dad. I don't know what to think. Just have to hide. Wait. He knows me, the one who killed him, he knows me and wants to kill me. By the gods...I'm never going on an all expense paid trip through the Sword Coast again.
(To be continued with...*gasp* Day 2! )
Day 2
I always thought I would be happy when old Gorion died. Really I did. I mean he was an insufferable lout. Some kind of stuffy snot-nosed adventurer that thought he knew everything. He always told me what to do. I don't really know if he actually ever loved me. Not that I really demanded love. But you know...I always just thought his passing would seem relatively normal. I'd just be indifferent.
But last night was the worst night of my life. The two of us were attacked, and Gorion, well...he died protecting me. The fella that killed him, well there were multiple fellas and some lady, but the big hulking monster that was leading them was the scariest monster I have ever seen. I haven't really seen many monsters, mind you, since I've spent my entire life in Candlekeep, but I can imagine from the picture books that he would top them all. Worst thing is...I think he was actually a man. Like me. I bet he's got a bigger piece though. You know what I mean. The ladies probably really adore him. I can't compete with that. And he killed Gorion!
I'm a bit embarrassed to say this, but I cried myself to sleep last night. I was tired. I was scared. Every noise I thought was going to be the harbinger of my eternal demise. Gorion was a lousy protector. Well except for the fact that I'm supposed to look for some woman named Jaheira. I bet she's as old and miserable as Gorion is. I'm doomed. How am I supposed to even find anyone in a state like this? I'm just absolutely wretched. And I'm starving. And well I wouldn't mind a warm bed with a tall, leggy woman lying beside me in it. And alcohol. I'm pretty sure I'd forget all this ever happened with an extreme purging of liquor.
I suppose the only thing to do right now is to follow the road and pray that nothing else is lurking to try to kill me. It's daylight now. I hear birds singing. I hear various animals chittering in glee. I certainly don't understand why they are so happy. You'd think I'd want revenge or something. Avenge my foster father's death or something right, Journal? I'm pretty sure a normal person would want all that. It feels like I should. Deep down I do feel some sort of anger welling up inside my soul. But then as soon as it seems to bubble forth, I just swallow it down and feel nothing but cowardice. I don't want to fight that monster. I will pray to any god I can to never seen that...man...again. I just want to go back to Candlekeep. But if that place wasn't safe...what is?
***
Great news, Journal! I'm not alone after all! Imoen was stalking me and saw the whole thing! She's right there now poking through Gorion's remains. She said she found the scroll that he had in his possession that she had already read and offered it to me. I didn't take it. Is she crazy? I don't want anything that that stinking, rotting corpse had. That's not my foster father, okay? It isn't. And I don't want to know anything that he had to say anymore.
She just shrugs her shoulders. She's still looting him and some of the other bodies that were created during the battle. She tries to be supportive of my plight, but she's just so damn excited about the idea of an adventure that I don't really think she cares. I really can't stand her. Looting corpses and all. She got defensive when I yelled at her about it. She just doesn't think they need their stuff anymore because they're dead. Well of course they don't. But I just want to go. I don't want to be here anymore. This place is cursed. It gives me nightmares. I can't tell her I'm terrified that HE is going to come back and get me. I wish she would just listen. But then again if listening was her strong suit, she wouldn't have been here in the first place.
NOTE TO SELF: When I said great news, it was sarcasm. Okay this isn't really a not to me. It's a not to you, Journal. But I know you're reading this anyway. So go away.
Psst...it's Imoen. Caludur is kind of a jerk. But that's okay! He'll come around! He doesn't mean any of this! He even laughed a bit when I told a joke about how Gorion could have stabbed that weirdo guy with a dagger and won! Yeah...if only Gorion would have used that dagger. Things would have been different. That big monster guy wouldn't have been so scary though if he was face down on the dirt with a dagger in his back though. Gotta go! Grumpy McGrumpface is coming back!
***
Just met two of the strangest men down the road. One is a mage of some sort. He has crazy eyes and likes to scream in a shrill voice sometimes. He seems like a very intense fellow. The other is a Halfling. He's a very dirty sort of brigand. His face is scarred, and I don't trust him. It might be because he tells me that I shouldn't sleep too soundly. The two are trying to investigate the Nashkel mines. Imoen didn't really trust them. She said they're bad news. The mage offered me some potions and then told me that I'd be a horrible person if I didn't assist the two of them to Nashkel. However it'd basically be my conscience.
My conscience didn't feel a damn thing. But to be honest with you, Journal, I really don't want to die. I feel like four people might be a bit better in surviving the odds of whatever is going on here. I agreed to helping them, but told them that we had to go to the Friendly Arm Inn first. They told me they were in a hurry, but acquiesced. I was pretty sure the Halfling was eyeing up Imoen's butt when suddenly there was a strange screeching sound in the woods. The mage suddenly swung around with his quarterstaff and sent a bolt of light right at the bluish creature and caused it to explode bloody chunks all over me. He seemed to enjoy the shower of blood and guts for he picked some of it off me and smiled at me with eyes that resembled that of a child's.
Then more came. Gibberlings, the Halfling called them. It almost looked like a mass of dark colored fur and the gleam of teeth. After we discovered the lot of them slaughtered on the ground, I discovered that they were more like hunchbacked creatures. Humanoid. They didn't seem very intelligent, although they attacked in a pack. I'm not sure what they wanted other than to eat us. It was quite disturbing. Xzar seemed to enjoy poking me with one of the gibberling's claws. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" he suddenly shouted. When I turned to look at him, he started laughing maniacally and approached Montaron the Halfling to discuss what he thought was causing the shoddy iron dilemma. Oh right. Xzar and Montaron are the names of the two fellows that we just acquainted ourselves with. It took awhile to get their names or, to be honest, any information about why they're interested in the mines or the ore. I figure we'll just ditch them once we find Jaheira and Khalid. Whoever they are. I sure hope Gorion was right to trust him. His instincts do not exactly sound very promising.
Oh gods...I have to go. Xzar is walking right up to a black bear....WAIT...it can't be!
(Is this Bloodmaw, the fierce and deadly black bear that Caludur has dreamed of killing all his life? Will Montaron find his soul mate? Will Xzar discover the meaning of life and then forget because of a hang nail? To be continued...)