Post by Nowhere on Jul 9, 2017 20:59:07 GMT
My curse is to write these notes. Not that I wish to, but that I am forced to.
As I spend my time in Kantas, I have come to realise that here, power comes in many forms. Many believe in the power of the swung sword, others, like myself, in the power of the mind, others the power of the spell, or the power of diplomacy. For some it is the power of gold.
This came to pass in my latest expedition in Kantas.
I, along with my colleagues, Manaia, Nix, and Tarin, (an elf ranger I had not had the pleasure of working with before), had been tasked by priests of the temple of Waukeen to carry out a security detail whilst they prepared a ritual. We were to know nothing more until we met for the task.
On beginning our walk with the priests we learnt that the ritual was to sanctify ground in a clearing in the woods. It would be on this sanctified ground that Viscount Daffles was to meet with the leader of the Furbolds to negotiate a trade agreement for the right to log wood in the forest. The wood would then be used to help expand Daring Heights. To know that the power of diplomacy in a single tent could shape the ground around me was intriguing. Diplomacy back home only led to the lining of schemers pockets, and rarely led to change in the city.
We were told that the Viscount would have his own retinue, and that our task would be to protect the priests whilst they carried out the ritual, and then to remain as guards during the negotiation itself. Our reward would be dependent on who survived and who did not.
After a couple of hours of travel, we arrived at the clearing - a journey that had been uneventful. As the priests began their preparations we started to explore the area around us to familiarise ourselves with our home for the next day or so. I must admit in the company I was with I felt out of my depth. As a man used to the city, I was surrounded by those who seemed happy and secure in the forest. Tarin, with some otherworldly sense, was able to tell us where humanoids were within the forest. Nix, with an owl familiar I had not seen him with before, acted as an aerial scout. I sat a little envious of Nix and his familiar. It has not been easy to make friends here, and with my last outing damaging relations with others I have worked with before, to see him in the company of another made me somewhat jealous. I must speak with Nix about his processes for having his familiar. It would be nice to have a companion I can trust. Power comes in knowing who one can trust.
But enough of this maudlin talk.
Settled into our watch, it was several hours before we were to meet a challenge. We were surprised from the North East by a group of six wererats charging towards the priests we were protecting.
The power of spell bound three. The power of the bow, the bite and magical flame took down five of our foe, including two that had been bound, but not without injury to one of the priests.... and Manaia and myself having been bitten. The bite delivered a strange feeling of cold through me, but I had no time to react to this.
We were left with one wererat. Fighting in his bonds to try and be free. The power of words was enough to have him tell us of his reason to be here. He, and his comrades, had been promised gold by an unknown elf, in return for disrupting the ritual. The rat told us that there are those who are against Daring, and are plotting ways to prevent its success. Finally we let the wererat go, but not before Tarin presented him with a necklace of the ears of his fallen comrades, and the words of a threat to be relayed to his master.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. The priests healed us and their comrade, and we rested in readiness for the negotiations the next day.
In the morning Tarin read the lay of the land again, and he and Nix went to investigate a group that were coming towards the camp from the North West. Manaia took watch from a tree in the south of the camp. Feeling the fool, I stood by the tent and waited.
The group that Tarin and Nix located were the Viscount and his guard, and escorted them to the camp. Shortly after the Furbolds attended, and negotiations began.
After a short time Nix told us a single figure was approaching the camp. A lone Furbold. He reported the news to those in the tent, and a Furbold came out to help him in meeting up with the oncoming figure.
From my perspective what happened next was unclear. I have learnt from Nix since that he strode off into the woods to find the lone Furbold with his Furbold companion, but their paths never crossed. Instead we were greeted by this lone Furbold coming into the camp and trying to head into the tent. We attacked to protect the tent, but not before seeing this Furbold push a glowing seed into a tree, and watching that tree... the one that Manaia had climbed, animate and come to attack! Nix returned to the clearing looking disorientated, but ready to fight. Over an ale since he has told me that he had been teleported through trees in a way to travel quicker back to the clearing. Clearly some powerrful and interesting magicks that I have not heard of before.
The power of nature is a great thing. The power of war is too. The power of revenge even greater. Whilst Nix, attacked with spell, Tarin with bow, and Manaia with powerful thunder magic, it was revenge that led me. The revenge of wounds sustained. As a group we defeated the tree, and we defeated the furbold. But before his passed we heard his story. For in his dying words he said that such negotiations should never happen. That the forest should stay as it is.
A type of creature who we know to usually be so gentle, was prepared to die for his beliefs. Such is the power of conviction. I wonder, should the time come, whether I will have such conviction as to sacrifice everything for a single belief.
The negotiations ended and a decision was reached. Logging rights awarded in return for sustainable replanting. All of us were rewarded by coin, and the Viscount was generous to present us with magical items as well, that we will decide what to do with when we return to Daring.
But what interests me more is not the money, but the movement of power like nodes of magic. I have recently seen how my own magical power could harm those I have grown fond of and although I regret my actions, those actions were liberating. Here I have seen how the power of coin, and the power of conviction can lead noble creatures and vermin to their death.
Until now, I did not really know my role in Daring, but now I feel I need to understand power, and how it motivates those around me.
As I spend my time in Kantas, I have come to realise that here, power comes in many forms. Many believe in the power of the swung sword, others, like myself, in the power of the mind, others the power of the spell, or the power of diplomacy. For some it is the power of gold.
This came to pass in my latest expedition in Kantas.
I, along with my colleagues, Manaia, Nix, and Tarin, (an elf ranger I had not had the pleasure of working with before), had been tasked by priests of the temple of Waukeen to carry out a security detail whilst they prepared a ritual. We were to know nothing more until we met for the task.
On beginning our walk with the priests we learnt that the ritual was to sanctify ground in a clearing in the woods. It would be on this sanctified ground that Viscount Daffles was to meet with the leader of the Furbolds to negotiate a trade agreement for the right to log wood in the forest. The wood would then be used to help expand Daring Heights. To know that the power of diplomacy in a single tent could shape the ground around me was intriguing. Diplomacy back home only led to the lining of schemers pockets, and rarely led to change in the city.
We were told that the Viscount would have his own retinue, and that our task would be to protect the priests whilst they carried out the ritual, and then to remain as guards during the negotiation itself. Our reward would be dependent on who survived and who did not.
After a couple of hours of travel, we arrived at the clearing - a journey that had been uneventful. As the priests began their preparations we started to explore the area around us to familiarise ourselves with our home for the next day or so. I must admit in the company I was with I felt out of my depth. As a man used to the city, I was surrounded by those who seemed happy and secure in the forest. Tarin, with some otherworldly sense, was able to tell us where humanoids were within the forest. Nix, with an owl familiar I had not seen him with before, acted as an aerial scout. I sat a little envious of Nix and his familiar. It has not been easy to make friends here, and with my last outing damaging relations with others I have worked with before, to see him in the company of another made me somewhat jealous. I must speak with Nix about his processes for having his familiar. It would be nice to have a companion I can trust. Power comes in knowing who one can trust.
But enough of this maudlin talk.
Settled into our watch, it was several hours before we were to meet a challenge. We were surprised from the North East by a group of six wererats charging towards the priests we were protecting.
The power of spell bound three. The power of the bow, the bite and magical flame took down five of our foe, including two that had been bound, but not without injury to one of the priests.... and Manaia and myself having been bitten. The bite delivered a strange feeling of cold through me, but I had no time to react to this.
We were left with one wererat. Fighting in his bonds to try and be free. The power of words was enough to have him tell us of his reason to be here. He, and his comrades, had been promised gold by an unknown elf, in return for disrupting the ritual. The rat told us that there are those who are against Daring, and are plotting ways to prevent its success. Finally we let the wererat go, but not before Tarin presented him with a necklace of the ears of his fallen comrades, and the words of a threat to be relayed to his master.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. The priests healed us and their comrade, and we rested in readiness for the negotiations the next day.
In the morning Tarin read the lay of the land again, and he and Nix went to investigate a group that were coming towards the camp from the North West. Manaia took watch from a tree in the south of the camp. Feeling the fool, I stood by the tent and waited.
The group that Tarin and Nix located were the Viscount and his guard, and escorted them to the camp. Shortly after the Furbolds attended, and negotiations began.
After a short time Nix told us a single figure was approaching the camp. A lone Furbold. He reported the news to those in the tent, and a Furbold came out to help him in meeting up with the oncoming figure.
From my perspective what happened next was unclear. I have learnt from Nix since that he strode off into the woods to find the lone Furbold with his Furbold companion, but their paths never crossed. Instead we were greeted by this lone Furbold coming into the camp and trying to head into the tent. We attacked to protect the tent, but not before seeing this Furbold push a glowing seed into a tree, and watching that tree... the one that Manaia had climbed, animate and come to attack! Nix returned to the clearing looking disorientated, but ready to fight. Over an ale since he has told me that he had been teleported through trees in a way to travel quicker back to the clearing. Clearly some powerrful and interesting magicks that I have not heard of before.
The power of nature is a great thing. The power of war is too. The power of revenge even greater. Whilst Nix, attacked with spell, Tarin with bow, and Manaia with powerful thunder magic, it was revenge that led me. The revenge of wounds sustained. As a group we defeated the tree, and we defeated the furbold. But before his passed we heard his story. For in his dying words he said that such negotiations should never happen. That the forest should stay as it is.
A type of creature who we know to usually be so gentle, was prepared to die for his beliefs. Such is the power of conviction. I wonder, should the time come, whether I will have such conviction as to sacrifice everything for a single belief.
The negotiations ended and a decision was reached. Logging rights awarded in return for sustainable replanting. All of us were rewarded by coin, and the Viscount was generous to present us with magical items as well, that we will decide what to do with when we return to Daring.
But what interests me more is not the money, but the movement of power like nodes of magic. I have recently seen how my own magical power could harm those I have grown fond of and although I regret my actions, those actions were liberating. Here I have seen how the power of coin, and the power of conviction can lead noble creatures and vermin to their death.
Until now, I did not really know my role in Daring, but now I feel I need to understand power, and how it motivates those around me.
