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Player's Guide Places People History Beliefs


Here I sit, by this dilapidated well, revisiting my thoughts. Finding the note posted in my home, that my family was to be found here, in Miriath, at the bottom of this well, was bad enough. To find myself without the weapon I have come to know like my own hand, would be worse, if it did not feel so...incidental.

The note was a complete shock, as I had expected nothing to have changed when we arrived in Celembril. But we found the note, saying that my family was alive, and that I needed to bring the "prize" to Miriath, and go to the bottom of this well.

And for the moment, I care nothing but for finding my family, finding whoever it was who took them, and finding out why they kept me in the dark about Tel-Tenauril's policy towards the humans. Especially Emlan. I trusted her more than anyone else. I trusted her to be frank with me. For the moment, I care nothing about what stands in my way. I cared not that that zealot Artemis was in our path as we made our way here; I cared not that he shattered my sunblade as I exhorted him to step aside. I did care that he impeded our progress unnecessarily, and for that I might have killed the wretch. Even now, it is difficult to recall just how close I actually came to murdering him, in cold blood, after we'd defeated him. I doubt he will, but he'd better learn from his experience, and stay the bloody hell away from me.

I wait only for morning, and my companions' rest to be sated. I care for nothing else. I will find them. And then...we'll see.

From the journal of Islan Diemyn

Contributor: Chris Schuettpelz