Exploring the Vale

Quinn Journal Entry 3
Bandits, Assassins, Vicious Insults? Oh my!

I am tired and overexerted, so this may be a short entry, though much has happened. There were men on the edge of the woods earlier. Bandits. Surrounded us during my watch. Attacked during Ivrandas. Not much of a fight. I pinned one of them to the side of a wagon with an arrow. Kind of entertaining. Good to know I can shoot accurately at something other than targets. Targets actually harder to hit.

Yorin’s son, Orin. God damn stupid kid nearly got himself killed. Charged one of them with a wooden sword. Thought my family had issues. Can see why Yorin is paranoid. His son is either suicidal or a simpleton. Not sure which is worse.

Ivranada. Was right about that one. Scary. Almost looked like she was dancing during the fighting. And every other step, fire. Green fire. Poor bandits barely landed a hit. I swear she disappeared entirely at one point. Reappeared a good ten feet away. One had the common sense to run. Tracked him. More bandits. I wonder if this is par for course with Yorin. Would explain bringing so much muscle. Remember to demand more pay.

Elrik. Couldn’t have been in the wars. Not the way he wields a weapon. Most of those scars probably self-induced. Good thing his armor is as thick as his head.

En. What a mouth on that one. Known sailors that would have blushed. Made a bandit collapse into the fetal position. Said something about his mother. Can’t remember what. Don’t want to. Feeling uneasy now, trying to. Found him dead after. Choked on his own tongue.

Strange priest at the bandit camp. Ivranda says a priest of Orkus. Not sure what that means. Am told it isn’t good. Ivranda seems to have spent a good deal of time with books. Much more interested in the other bandit leader. Cerrik Teyy. Assassin. Something big going down. Since when do assassins need help? Let him go after questioning. No sense being on the wrong side of the Guild. Something about the assassins of Hammerfall and Fallcrest not seeing eye to eye. Trouble in the vale.

Took his sword and some other belongings as spoils. Left him with Ivranda’s old sword. Swear it lost its curve when she handed it over. Just a plain longsword. The new one, was it always shaped the way it is now? The magic is so heavy in the air around that one you can taste it. Almost metallic. I ended up with some new armor. Comfortable and doesn’t need cleaning. Perfect. A bag too. Bigger than it seems. Fit my arm up to the shoulder in it. Hardly weighs anything at all.

Bed now. I’ve written more than I wanted to. Didn’t leave Fallcrest to miss sleep.

Quinn Journal Entry 2
An uneventful morning

The woman from the tavern! She’s one of the other three guards! I arrived this morning to find her and the others waiting by the caravan. She says her name is Enmivenn, but that we can all call her En for short. Apparently venn is not acceptable (must make a note of this… wait, I just did). She seems to be a bard, and a tiefling to boot. And I thought this trip was going to be boring.

The other two are equally impressive. One, name of Ivranda, doesn’t seem to carry much other than a sword, though it has a strange curve to it. I can’t be certain, but I thought I saw it glowing (no, pulsing maybe?) out of the corner of my eye. She’s an eladrin, so from the Feywild most likely, but I’m afraid I don’t know much else about her.

The last is a human, Elrik. Based on his equipment and the scars that cover the vast majority of his face, I’d say he’s more of the close range type. Should make for a perfect shield if the going gets rough. I had a chance to talk with him as the caravan moved out. He was involved in the wars down south, but doesn’t seem too keen to reminisce on the experience. Probably has something to do with the scars.

The caravan! Ha! If you can even call it that. What I expected to be a fair contingent of horses and wagons turned out to be little more than a pair of wagons pulled by sickly mules. I swear one of the animals looks so frail that I’m afraid one of us may have to pull the wagon before the end of it. Why Yorin would recruit so many to guard so little is beyond me. I can’t see how he expects to turn a profit unless the wagons are loaded with gold, and quite frankly, they’re full of junk (my curiosity got the better of me… again). Seems like alcohol and provisions mostly.

We left Fallcrest near midday, heading on the King’s Road for the small town of Wielgren. Noticing my ears the others suggested that I take point, where my keen elven senses could do the most good. Sometimes I hate the stereotype being true; remember to wear a hood on future adventures. Elrik and I walked in front, while the ladies brought up the rear. It’s a shame the positions couldn’t have been switched, as the view would have been remarkably improved from the nondescript hills and farmland that I had to view instead.

We reached the edge of the woods near nightfall. I could have sworn that I saw someone near the treeline, but maybe it was just a trick of the eyes. The others didn’t claim to see anything and weren’t too pleased when I suggested we sleep on the side of the road in the open, just to be safe. Yorin seems to be a creature of habit and has a spot that he camps at regularly (he’s made the trip more than once and still hasn’t gone bankrupt? Maybe the gold is hidden under the provisions. note in the margins: No, just more provisions).

I drew first watch, although to be honest I haven’t been able to focus properly. I keep worrying about mother and how she will react. She’s surely found my note by now. I hope she’s well. Ivranda just informed me that it’s the end of my watch. That one scares me a little bit, she never goes anywhere without that sword, and I get the distinct feeling that it is watching me. I don’t think it would be wise for any of the goods in the caravan to go missing.

Quinn Journal Entry 1
A new life

I have left the collegium, and good riddance. I’m sure father won’t be happy, but I have no intention of staying in Fallcrest to embarrass him. Once he learns that I’ve left the city, I’m sure he’ll be positively elated. Mother on the other hand… well, I’ll just have to try not to think about how she’ll take it. They’ve dictated my entire life up to this point and will have no right to complain now that I’ve taken it for myself. With this entry, I begin a new life. Hopefully this one will be more carefree, or at the very least, more interesting.

I have signed on as a guard for a local merchant caravan. It doesn’t sound incredibly exciting, but it should get me away from the city and put some coin into my pocket. The caravan master seems a strange type, name of Yorin, fidgety for sure. I’ll be seeing him safely to some backwoods hamlet to the south (I can’t be bothered to remember it’s name) along with three others. With so many guards it seems the caravan will be quite large, I may have to have see if some of the inventory can end up being “misplaced”.

Yorin seemed quite pleased to learn that I have some skill with a bow; it appears in his mind he is already waylaid by bandits and horrors from the woods. I neglected to mention that I’ve only ever fired at the practice range. It shouldn’t matter, these trips are often uneventful, or so the stories at the tavern would attest, and I expect to be at our destination (remember to ask Yorin the name of the place again, this is beginning to bug me) within a week. Maybe from there I will be able to find something more befitting.

I’m afraid I have to end this entry early here. There is a woman singing with otherworldly grace near the back of the tavern. She’s already gathered quite a crowd and I think I’d very much like to be part of it. Remember to leave a letter for mother. No need to do the same for father. His agents will have already delivered news of my plans.


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