Palarnus's Journal
Praise Selune! I have seen the moonlight of the fair
maiden goddess and I have been brought back from the netherworld. Her eyes
watch over me now, just as I will give a portion of my treasure to the Waterdeep temple headquarters of Selune's
clerics. I can't remember much of my cold journey,
I'll just say that it is a place I never wish to return to again. While the
head cleric did her best to resurrect me from the beyond, the scars I bear
across my body and head say much about the damage done to me by the swine that
chose to dishonorably attack me. When I encounter him again I'll remind him of
our fight! With my steel to his neck!
I will keep this journal so that in time, others may recall my deeds of praise
to Selune and be inspired to worship her as I do. Our
adventuring party's cleric promises to teach me all she knows about the moon
goddess. Well, at least she will promise when I tell her I want to know
everything she knows. Perhaps while we share our nightly travel watches
together she can divulge some of her mystical knowledge to me.
This journal takes up our travels on return to Waterdeep,
after defeating the dragon which held one of the last shadow stones, and after
my premature death at the hands of that vile assassin. I stayed in the
On meeting up with the rest of our group, I found out that the drow, the one called Zyr...something,
will join us for the next leg of our lengthy campaign. He seems to be well, no
new scars that I can see. We didn't talk much before however, and I don't
anticipate I'll strike up many in-depth conversations with him this time
either. After all, what can he know of the joys of plowing a hillside, of
washing sheep, of clearing the stables? He just knows about things like
underground things, and having black skin and white hair.
The cleric at the
I don't know how many people have been through the portals around Faerun, but I would guess that most of those who have found
one haven't been through two! As a group, we went through a portal taking us to
the region of Borovia, where everyone seems to look
and talk differently and be scared of just about everything. Just as well, I'm
not really in a talkative mood in this place.
We were trying to have a quiet pint or three when a dark-haired messenger
stomps into the pub to drop a message on our table. The barman told us where to
go to find the
The fog going to this village was relentless, and once we actually passed over
the border to the Borovia region it was even worse.
Once we arrived I suppose it was the village welcoming committee came out to
greet us, but not with cakes and beer! It seems the entire village has
succumbed to some awful curse, making them kill and eat each other in some sickening
fashion. I nearly succumbed once again - the wizard and short one tried to make
their escape from the fight as usual, leaving a gap for these things to attack
me, but by controlling my anger and rage through the grace of Selune I was able to focus it on the foul remnants of the
villagers. The short one even threw a javelin over my shoulder, aimed at one of
these creatures, or so he says!
I don't like this place. All I know is the people that we killed were already
dead - you could see it in their eyes. So far the village seems empty of living
souls. All that remains are the dead and the nearly dead. We need to find this
stone and get back to Waterdeep.
I have named the horse I bought from the barman Flash.