An extravagant white leather bound journal contains several chapters detailing Calina Ravanqnerosicor’s journeys. It is written in a rich blue ink and the pages have a gold trim. It is written in Sperethiel.
Chapter 109: Respect and Regret
I do not know how I got roped into this adventure. I
was fulfilling my duties as a claims adjustor for the homes that were destroyed in Kampung Gaja. It took the recommendation of a very powerful person to get me that job. One of the head scribes had offered it to me to get me out of the Great Library every now and then. It seemed like employment I could accel at, but apparently dishonesty was more important than accurate evaluations of the rebuild cost. My manager met me on site and told me to pack up and leave the site. That is where I was roped up by a group of fans celebrating the arrival of a group of Adepts. Stratavaraprolagrahayopristanockahgannagroth, R'edtarian, and Barag were amongst those I recognized. There was also a windling named Truck. I thought it was odd that so many people were watching me while I worked. I knew Adepts were a big deal in Throal, but I had not realized they were just as celebrated in the lower circles.
We set out along one of the many paths that spread from Kampung Gaja. I had no idea what we were looking for, but we soon found a bizarre weather phenomenon, one where it was cold and snowing. It was strange; the icy temperatures reached even into astral space. I did not really want to go where the temperature was too cold for my attire, but I was dragged along anyway. Many thanks to R'edtarian, who lent me his cloak. Come to think of it, I need to return it to him. I always thought of him as an honest human. He seems very trustworthy. Hopefully with time, he does not betray that image. Anyway, he was a focal point for my Mage Armor. I also slung it on Stratavaraprolagrahayopristanockahgannagroth, who does not really seem to ever need any extra protection. When we found the cause of the strange meteorological anomaly, there were two troupes of winged monkeys flying overhead, each vying for dominance. Barag believed the source to be a large chunk of stone fused with true air in the river. He also believe removing it from the river would correct the weather to appropriate temperatures. As we devised a method to remove the rock, the flying primates had resolved who was dominant and landed near the stone on a bridge. Stratavaraprolagrahayopristanockahgannagroth elected to grab their attention so that Truck could attach a chain to the boulder. Commendable, even as he entered a shouting contest with one of the primates. This, of course, began a hostile encounter, during which I did what I could to improve our team's defenses against magical attacks. I was not sure these things could perform any form of magic. Inquiring to R'edtarian about them gave little more insight to their abilities. I am glad I decided to go with an Astral Shield rather than an Iron Hand spell. It did not seem to do too much to assist the team, but we came out relatively unscathed.
We continued along our path to find a specific person. We found him dead, but not far from his body was an island separated by a branch of the Coil. There were T'Skrang on the island, who seemed to have been separated from society far too long. Truck began taking food and medical supplies to them as the rest of the team devised ways to get them off the island. The best I could do was give them better mobility to escape the island quicker. They began talking about Chengoro Shivoam. Translated from T'Skrang, it referred to a large granddaughter of the river or some such. Either way, killing it was not an option. I tied it down with Binding Threads as Barag wrapped it up with his Ice Mace and Chain spell. It was ultimately R'edtarian who knocked it unconscious. As the giant Crocodile like beast fell in the mud, a massive wave was launched over Stratavaraprolagrahayopristanockahgannagroth. There was no escaping it, I just let it wash over me. Good thing we were by a river. As the rest of the team continued assisting the T'Skrang, I took a swim to try to get as much mud out of my clothes as possible. It could have been worse. If it had any sufficient mass, it would have knocked me over and both sides of my clothes would have been muddied.
Once we returned, there were many T'Skrang celebrating our Adept status and what we had just accomplished. They treated us to drink and nourishment. Poor Truck had enough food to weigh twice what he did. I just handed him a napkin, but I do not think anyone understood it as a joke. I shall have to work on that. The fans were constantly offering me drink, but most walked away only mildly upset that I rejected their offers. A few also asked for stories, but they did not understand sign language. Soon the fans were ignoring me completely. They probably thought I was being rude. Maybe they do not understand how nobility works? I mean, I am no longer a noble, but I cannot just shirk my family traditions just because I was removed from House Ravanqnerosicor, can I?
With our beds provided by the masses, we woke the next day to track down a threat to the salvage teams. We began at the beach. I just kind of followed Stratavaraprolagrahayopristanockahgannagroth and R'edtarian. It took a bit of searching, but we did eventually find a camp. There were an extraordinary set of cloth curtains. I would likely be able to repurpose it into a new set of clothes. Stratavaraprolagrahayopristanockahgannagroth investigated the campsite, and Truck was scouting the other side of the site. Barag was far behind R'edtarian and me. From the safety of his distance (which turned out to be less safe than originally anticipated), he called out a far reaching implication that we would burn the curtains and everything else. A set of eyes appeared next to me, then jumped out to stab me. Everything was in slow motion. The blade plunging underneath my ribs, a tail blade diving into my chest as the first blade was hidden, an arrow flying through the air towards me as Stratavaraprolagrahayopristanockahgannagroth rushed to assault my assassin. R'edtarian immediately moved towards the archer's direction. As he kicked up the dirt beneath his boots, my sight followed it to watch the T'Skrang assassin bolt towards the river, turning about with his or her tail following like a ribbon. The arrow hit me in the chest, and I rolled over to get off the ground. I clutched at my wounds as I ran for cover in a complete panic. I do not know how these Adepts do it. I did not know where anyone was. We were facing fatal opposition. They each stepped up to fight back. Barag included. It was inspirational, but I did not step out from the safety of cover until it was over. A dwarf had surrendered, and a second T'Skrang was running away. I had barely scraped together enough threads for a spell.
I survived. Somehow, I lived through several severe wounds. My clothes were shreds and covered in blood, but I was alive! I think I might just save this outfit. When I have enough money for my own place, I shall mount them or frame them somewhere. For now, I shall enjoy some rest and relaxation.
On the way back, I went to visit my daughter in Trayckid. She is an absolutely horrible physician, but she adopted an elf child. Silly name, Orfen. I recall Vralino having a better imagination, but I suppose she only wasted it on mischievous shenanigans. She has done well for herself, taking on the responsibilities of both an orphanage and an infirmary. Strangest thing, my adopted granddaughter was quite handy with medical devices. She did an amazing job patching me up.
When I returned to Throal, Barag was awaiting me with a peculiar item, an armband. He asked me to do some research on it. I happily spent the next week in the safety of the Great Library. I found the research quite relaxing. Before I knew it, I had about 387 pages worth of notes on it. As I typically do, I wrote them in as many languages as I knew, just to make sure he understood what he asked me to research. I had the scribes bind it, but a couple books were necessary to contain the entirety of my notes. I hope it answers all his questions about the item. In truth, I completely forgot what I was supposed to discover about the item, so I just concatenated all the information I had on it. I did forget to collect payment for my work. He had to seek me out to pay for it. Quite the respectable dwarf, but there are plenty of noble dwarves, so it is no surprise that an Elementalist followed their virtues.
In the midst of my research, Stratavaraprolagrahayopristanockahgannagroth also made an appearance. When I had finished with the armband, the scribes informed me of his arrival and how he was simply standing at the entrance. They were not sure if he was catatonic or just exceptionally polite. Clearly they hadn't come across many Obsidimen in the Library, which isn't to be expected. Obsidimen are well known for their brutish capabilities. He had this peculiar set of armor, exceptionally heavy, and made from a beautiful slab of marble with golden flecks and crystals embedded in almost a vein like pattern. Along with this armor was a netting. The gossamer was exceptionally fine, and there was a pattern on it where crystals were attached using gold threading. I am glad he did not just leave it at the door. I do not know if I could ever move the armor, let alone lift it to where I conduct my research. I thought the stair might break beneath the weight of Stratavaraprolagrahayopristanockahgannagroth and his armor, but aside from a loud and disconcerting creaking with each step, the stairs suffered no damage. This was a slightly different request, as he asked me to not only research some information, but also to study the true pattern of these items as well. He never left my side as I completed book after book, and he even went searching for a few volumes I wanted to dive into as well, not that it helped that much. He moves very slowly when not engaged in a brawl, like he has so much time on this world that he has no need to rush anywhere. It was almost as if he was enjoying every step as he travelled from one place to the next, truly never taking a single step for granite (I made another funny!). Anyway, he followed me home, followed me to the diners, followed me back to the Great Library, almost followed me into the bathroom. It was fun having a giant stone-like bodyguard for a couple weeks, but it had to end eventually. When I finished up the research, I had a scribe bind the pages in a manual, same as for Barag. This time, I wrote it all in Obsidiman and Throalic, so it only went to 284 pages. I gave him the books, he picked up the manual, and went about his business. As I was about to leave the Great Library, one of the scribes came up to me with a massive bag of silver coins. Apparently this was my payment for my time. I couldn't carry it home, much less safeguard it, so I just donated most of it to the Great Library, keeping what little I could carry with me.
I decided to offer my services to other lower circle Adepts. Even I could not sabotage self employment in a field where speech is only minutely a requirement, right? Maybe, eventually, I could afford a home that I did not have to share with others. I could start leaving things in a secure place while I am away from Throal! Where should I reside? I do not wish to be close to House Ravanqnerosicor any longer. Maybe I could find residence in Kampung Gaja? Better yet, I have heard about the Floating City over Lake Ban. It is significantly closer to Vorst. That is a bit of a trip, though. I shall begin saving immediately. For now, the flop house will suffice.
