Journal Entry, Uktar 5, 1388
Inked while using the light from a magically glowing ring, in a quite interesting ruin. I am attempting to get a little rest, but I do not think I can until I put this down to the page. I will tell the story of how I came to be here.
While on a business trip to Waterdeep, I was informed by Ensmir that he had heard of a rumor of new rare historical texts being discovered concerning an ancient kingdom of magic users nearly a thousand years lost. He piqued my interest.
For the rest of the months-long trip delivering ordered materials to business partners along Tradeway of the Sword Coast, I could not get the thought of such a historical discovery from my mind. It is a pleasure, always, to learn of the histories of the world. Especially when it comes to magical histories.
As such, I found myself on the Tradeway making my way to a place I have not seen in years. The Gem, Silverymoon. I have had mixed feelings about it. While I was there last there was some significant trouble. I paid my fines, restitution for damages, then found I could not continue due to a staffing issue. I could not stay any longer, and it resulted in being granted provisional graduation. Then, a new dean was assigned, and I got a letter saying I should return for a more advanced set of courses. It has been a question for me ever since. I sent away to register for the classes a few years ago, intending to return, but never was seeming to find the time. The trouble friends pulled me into on the Moonshaes took everything out of me for a while, I had a need to see other places. Much like the wanderlust of my mainland cousins from Luiren.
Calimport, was a dangerous place to return to, as the last time I was there I was not wise in my dealings. I was just learning the language and somehow agreed to join Falamir’s harem as a dancer. While I was not legally a slave, I was not protected by law from that fate. This is why when the opportunity arose I escaped. Word had reached me though that Falamir had fallen from his position as the head man in his drudach. This meant I would not have to worry for my safety should I visit the city again. Well, no more than usual of course. But that adventure was written in an earlier entry.
I never liked ocean travel. It frightens me, I much prefer to be able to put my feet to the ground and sleep on a solid bed not shifting constantly by the waves. It’s not that I cannot swim, just that I am not terribly adept at it. And then there was the great beast that tried to drown our ship on my first ocean voyage. As such, I was not overly upset by the news that the Dessarin river ships were not running to the Surbin and on to Silverymoon. I didn’t pay too close attention as to why, for it did not matter. I would take the caravan from Waterdeep to Triboar, then on to Everlund. From there, I would likely take a river ship further north to the Gem.
A day out from Olostin’s Hold which was to be the last stop before Everlund. I had stepped out of the carriage to see if I could obtain some food and stretch my legs. Not that the carriage was cramped, just me and my traveling chest under my feet taking up my space built for a burly human by height and width, at a premium price mind you. The extra furs and cloak made it quite padded and comfortable enough to sleep despite rocking and the lowering temperatures of the wooded road at night. After changing the horse teams we loaded again to try for the outpost. I read for a while, examining and learning about the amulet a friend had given me to protect me on my journey. When night came I tucked myself up into my seat holding my pack containing my magic bag upon my lap and covered with my cloak, the amulet still in my off-hand.
I don’t know how long it was before I fell asleep, or how long I was asleep before the caravan was attacked. My first indication was a sharp cry of alarm and the pained scream of a horse, and then the feeling of weightlessness and the wind knocked out of me as my traveling chest landed square end on into my pack. I lost consciousness for a few seconds at least. There were a lot of screams and I know I came back very slowly because it all seemed to be happening at an accelerated pace. I felt my head looking for blood or a wound, everything was dark but I could hear a great crashing of trees like a frost giant thundering through knocking them too and fro. My hand came back dry, but it was still dark.
That changed too very soon. There was another great crashing sound. The enclosed carriage I was in, I realized was on its side, was smashed into two. A tree limb, with such force as used by a giant as a club rent the cabin in twain without so much as a hesitation. Splinters sprayed everywhere, and I managed to pull the cloak over my face just in time to save my eyes. There was fire, I could see the flickering light through the cloak and I had caught a brief glimpse before covering my face. I assumed it was a result of the oil lamps hung astride the carriage had broken.
I fought with fear as I could hear the breath of a great creature close to me. I was imagining the bearded face of a frost giant bend over the pieces of the carriage looking for something inside of worth to it, or maybe a dragon looking for a morsel. My will was weakening, I longed to peek out, but I was too afraid to be noticed. Then with an angry grunt, the part of the carriage I was in was struck again by a great branch and launched into the air. It landed to the side of the road, in the runoff gully. It landed so that my back took the impact, I felt the wind thrust from me again by my trunk but did not fade into darkness again. The broken side rolled to face the ground, and I was dropped out of my soft nest along with my traveling chest. I crept over it, to look through a broken bit of framing and what I saw took my breath away.
It was not giants wielding branches of great oaks as weapons. It was great oaks themselves. Treants were attacking the caravan. I saw one stomping its roots into what a moment before had been one of the caravan guards, leaving not much more than a bloody mess. I held myself quiet and still for a few moments as I counted them, half a dozen at least that I could see. The sounds of destruction and battle seemed to be ending in less than a minute. I could hear no more steel striking, only the painful sounds of horses being crushed to cease their tortured lives.
I saw the treant begin to walk ponderously back into the forest. I used that noise to try to cover my own escape. I crawled through the wreckage to gather my pack and chest. I took a moment to put my boots back on while protected with the wreckage to my back. My traveling chest is only about 40lbs, but with my pack on my back and still breathing heavily from the fear of the attack, I have to wonder if it was the rasp of my breathing that turned the last of the treants to look back as I had used a magic wand to become silently invisible and disappeared into the woods on the opposite side of the road.
I was not, and am not certain of exactly where I ran, I just know that I was attempting to put distance between me and my pursuer. I was lucky, I thought, as I had stopped hearing the crashing. I slowed my pace and relaxed a bit, trying to watch my footing better. It was difficult to see in the half moonlight through the trees. Then ahead of me I saw one of the trees turn and look in my direction. I was frightened, had it heard me? Could it see me? I didn’t move, or even breathe.
It called out in a strange language, seeming to be challenging me as it lumbered its way directly at me. I responded in as bold a voice as I could muster “I don’t speak tree… I don’t mean any harm.. But I won’t be an easy bug to squash either.” This one though looked different. I had not noticed before then, but the others had looked sickly. As if they were trees in late autumn after a very dry season and beset with a rot. This one looked very healthy and did not seem to have a rage in its eyes. Perhaps that is what caused me to call out to it. It did not understand me any more than I understood it. Yet it continued its booming speech as it waded through the earth toward me.
That was when I came to the idea of the elvish language. If we were nearing Olostin’s Hold, we were along the borders of the High Forest of the elves. I called out to it in elvish, and it responded. It was, in fact, rushing in its way past me. I put the pinch of guano back into the pouch as it passed and I was not attacked. I had been preparing to blast it with a fireball, for I was too tired to keep running at this pace. It was not going to attack me. Which I was glad for because I could see another tree moving in the distance, silhouetted by the light of the moon on a waterfall. We started a dialog, basic mostly, as it ordered me to follow, then defended me against what it called a ‘sick sap’.
As the treant stopped to morn what was now to be seen as another of its kind that was healthy but fallen, I noticed the many wounds and split branches. I thought perhaps the ring with healing magic I carried might be able to lend my newfound protector some comfort, and start him on the road to health. And perhaps, he might be strong enough to continue protecting me.
My defender told me he would guide me to a place I could ‘dip my roots’, where I would be safe. I followed, only to be sent along as he defended me from two of the ‘sick saps’. I hurried by his directions but then got turned around in the forest. I was walking along a steep bank, and it had intended me to wade across, or so I thought. I had to abandon my trunk along that bank because my defender had fallen, and the victorious sick sap was charging my direction. I remember saying to myself, ‘this is going to suck’ because I had in fact in the earlier fracas lost the amulet my friend had given me that would allow me to breathe underwater because he knew how much a feared sailing.
I continued along the bank to where it looked like I might be able to dive in without hitting rocks or thick mud which would trap me and likely mean my death. Once in the water, the ‘sick sap’ charged along my path. With a sickening splash, I could hear my luggage hitting the water, launched by roots intent to follow me. One day, it is possible my traveling chest which was watertight, might be found perhaps as far south as Waterdeep. My clothing, dresses, journals, and mundane supplies might one day come into the hands of someone who might use the journals within to contact my sister and inform her of the find. Perhaps seeking a reward, and I might get them back if I survive this.
At that moment, I do not know why I was thinking that. I am not a terribly strong swimmer, at least I had the current to aid me, even still I was not thinking I was terribly lucky as I slogged up the seemingly shallow bank through knee-deep mud and on to more solid soil. I looked back, and the sick treant seemed to barely be able to move through the water. I had actually gained some ground. Then a snake struck at my boot and another at other thigh tearing through the silk of my traveling trousers.
I had a giant tree, sick and angry slogging through the river toward me, and two snakes had decided I was in their territory, thus needed to die. I was angry by this point. Soaking wet, getting quite cold and done fearing for my life. A moment or two later, the snakes lay dealt with, and I prepared to fire the tree the moment enough of it rose from the river to burn with my magic. To my surprise, I heard the sound of shouting and horses. Rising out of the river on the other side of the little river delta was what appeared to be a group of adventurers. Two elves, a human and what seemed most odd a fully armored and helmeted knight.
The sick sap treant turned toward the closer group and climbed out of the river to attack them. I did not hesitate as it crested and began my incantation setting the seed of fire on its course to erupt into a blossom of superheated air engulfing the top of the tree before it could reach them. Oddly, that did not seem to turn it back toward me as I expected it would. The next few minutes were chaotic, as they finished off the burned treant as I used my wand to become invisible again and swam across to them from my peninsula of relative safety.
To my dismay, however, not even before I stepped out of the mud I saw a half dozen more attacking from the other direction. I admit I was all turned around, I do not know what was south or north if I am honest, so I will not depict it as such. The adventurers were adept though, and the battle was relatively swift, admittedly, my anger and use of fire magic were not without adding to the damage we inflicted. As the last fell, I could not help but think about the score of others that were part of the caravan that was slaughtered only hours earlier. I hoped these were that party of bandits and put down as was right for murderous villains.
The elves were familiar, but then again, it was difficult to see at the time but for the guttering flames of the dead treants. I was greeted and warned that I came to a dangerous part of the woods. I said, “I noticed.” The elf then complimented me on knowing a few tricks and asked if I came to adventure. I scoffed and informed them I was just passing through on the way to the Gem. I looked to the river, up and back again, and sighed knowing my luggage was gone. Now all I had was the contents of my pack. She informed me that she was unsure of how safe the forest would be for me alone, and suggested seeking refuge with the locals.
My first impression of Jhessi Kross was of a wizard though in the night and the way she spoke I was unsure if she was a man or a woman. She was examining the dead sick saps and seeming rather disgusted for not being able to determine if they had been ‘doctored like the others’. They were unable because of the fire damage. This made me feel defensive and a little put-out, did she not realize it was a battle of life and death?
Jhessi turned her attention to me and greeted me, then offered me a warning to refrain from the use of fire because it is difficult to determine what is making them sick, the druid would not like it. Their knight Bertilak joined Jhessi and drew her attention “Do you suppose these undead trees came from that cave as well?” he said.
“Did you say Undead trees?” I asked, somewhat horrified.
They confirmed what I heard, and launched directly into their plans to get to the source and end it. There was some argument from the elf whose voice was familiar and I then recognized as Saerela one who had been a small part of the effort in the ‘Shae’s a few years ago. I was gladdened a bit for I knew she was a goodly sort and was also pleased to learn she still lived since she had disappeared suddenly after we both were almost killed in that explosion in the temple in southern Alaron.
I will gloss over the negotiations and preparations, but I joined them in their goal to track the source of the trouble they believed to be not far from their current location. They were supported and guided by an odd druid whose grove appeared to be a plateau atop the waterfall. He, though, would not be joining us in the endeavor. He seemed to be overly obsessed with a mind-altering herb. This did not and does not sit well with me for someone whom you are taking advice.
As we neared the sunken structure, they warned there was a tribe of nixies taken up residence within. They did not think they were the cause, they were worried about death head moths which seemed to nest in the trees which then became sick. They were preparing to go into a cave under the water. Prepared with water breathing spells and defenses, they began to wade into the lake which flooded the ruined structure there. The pushback was immediate, the nixies were casting from under the water before we even were all with our feet wet. We decided to avoid the direct route and approach from the rear because we identified a wall of abjurative force assumed to be able to dispel our preparations of magic.
We were met with a fierce force of undead summoned or created by the necromancer we were seeking. Fighting was again chaos, but at least the use of fire was no longer requested to be kept in check, as my wands were valuable to the fight and much appreciated. The carnage of undead treants and creatures was as disturbing as any battlefield I have ever seen. We fought our way to standing stones which seemed to be a gate arch or was long ago.
As we tended to wounds, I began to examine the corpse of a treant. It had two black crystals which seemed to be eyes. In short, we discovered this was the key to raising, and controlling them. The necromancer still retained some perception from within them. Each was rooted as if the crystal had grown outward into all of the tree flesh surrounding it. Both were strong in necromancy and conjuration magic, but each was weighted to one, balanced by the other.
I tried to retrieve them, intent to return them to the Lady’s College for study and analysis in efforts of defeating this scourge. That is how I learned of the crystalline root structure. While I was attempting it though, it was as if the necromancer was reaching into my mind through the contact. I stepped back casting a protection spell I already had in place out of reflex. The necromancer spoke clearly in my mind. "Interesting. A new player. Or plaything. Tell them to come to me. I am waiting." It was unnerving, to say the least, but also angering me a bit.
I kept notes in charcoal in my notebook, which I will detail in greater depth in a later entry. But it reminded me of a situation I had heard of when I was last at the college half a decade ago. There was a spate of undead attacks, all of whom had black crystals embedded in them to control them. I wondered if the incidents were related at all. As I recall, that one had never been settled.
Working on their own, Jhessi and Bertilak were attempting to free whatever souls were being used to power these undead creatures. They smashed the crystal eye of the largest of them, causing a burst of energy to spill forth which actually caused injury by setting Jhessi’s robes aflame. Not an easy trick since most wizards treat their robes against elemental damage. She was pushed into the water to put out the flames. When she was retrieved from the water, she was certain she had felt the spirit of her first teacher a master Evenwood taken by a soul reaper, believed to be released from that crystal.
They smashed the rest, though done more carefully. Giovanni the gnome was laid on his back from just touching one too long and needed to be helped back to consciousness and his feet. I stood back and let them be destroyed. Believing them to be trapped souls, I no longer wished to retain one for study, it is an abomination. Once that task was done, we prepared to return on our path and make our way inside the ruins.
As a result of the dispelling of the protections, and the length of time it took for the fight, we were forced to attempt to prepare to swim again for the entrances were all below water. Likely as much as twenty feet below. We did not have enough spells or potions to bring all that was gathered, leaving Giovanni and myself without. I admit that was partially my doing. Something went wrong when Jhessi attempted the spell upon herself, causing a painful backlash and ruining the scroll. I had one scroll in my bag, part of my items to sell. This was a worthy cause, so I decided to use it upon her.
It was not the first I decided to use, and many have been used since. In fact, I have used nearly two dozen of my scrolls written to sell in an effort to help these people. In for a penny and all. I suppose when it comes down to it, I could have sought refuge and let them go on with their daring-do. How though could I live with myself if they had died for the want of just one more ally?
Giovanni came up with a few hollow reeds, saying they would allow us to breath if we were just under the surface, and at air pockets that would surely be found. I smiled and accepted one. Then finished off the contents of my wineskin, and blew into it for a last few breaths of air should they be needed. If nothing else, it would work like the one I had made for the ocean crossing and would keep me from sinking like a stone.
We swam, for what seemed like forever, and entered through a crevice in the stone that looked like it had happened from collapsing natural stone the ruins were built into. Once inside, Gio and I struggled to keep up with the others, as we searched for air pockets along the route. Oddly, the nixies did not seem to be disturbed by our presence, merely trying to keep us out of certain areas.
We found a crack in the wall that lead to an old chimney from when the ruins were above water. At least, that’s what I think it was. It was a rough go, and I needed to use the skin to breathe after getting turned around. Eventually, we each found our way through a natural-looking cavern and into a more structured tunnel up. It was tight, even for me. I am unsure how the knight managed to swim through it. The cold water got to most, the jagged rocks left ribbons of blood in the water as we made our way. If not for that, I am not certain I would have found my way up after getting turned around.
The chamber we emerged into was locked by a rather serious-looking metal-bound door. A giant moth swarm had made its nest in the room, so we knew there had to be a way to the surface, or maybe only I assumed as much. They were gathered around the door when Gio and I were both up. I used a cantrip to make us dry, and help with the chill that was actually making him shiver violently.
The door lock wasn’t a problem, nor was the lock on the one down the short corridor. I’m not a thief, I’m just good with my hands, and some of the tools I use in crafting translate well to tripping the tumblers on a lock. I stepped back and let them open the door, and that was when hell broke loose. The necromancer was caught a little earlier than she intended. She had undead treants to attack us, but we went through them like a lumberjack and a forest fire. She managed to elude us, but we were able to dispel the rituals she had set into motion before more souls could be bound into undead.
We chased her to a locked door, which I could not twiddle the tumblers of, but I did not have to because a wizard can always use magic to disengage the locks. I used a wand and opened it in seconds, stepping back assuming the necromancer to behind the door. What was thought, was a portal. Jhessi stepped in immediately and got to work, but in the end, she could not get the portal to function. We searched for something that would give us more information, and make sure the chamber was safe.
We found four stone guardian trees, but after our research and having to face one, came to the conclusion these were not the work of the necromancer. Instead, they were much older, original workings of this ruin. It was a puzzle Nioniel seemed to have a sense of, as she sang out in elvish ‘guardians halt, I carry the key.’. I did not get it the first time, when she did it just before the crystalline stone guardian animated and attacked nearly killing Giovanni. Eventually, I did though, it was an aural key phrase and the tone was more important than the words. It also needed a magical component to drive it home. Jhessi thought an orb of sound would do it. I tried to sing the tones myself, and the feeling I got as the magic that guarded the place responded to my voice, was that if I did it just that way again, I could accomplish the task with a lesser orb. Either way, we did not have the spell at that moment to cast it.
We found her books, which I left with Jhessi as she has a personal stake in this. After dispelling, we collected the component gems. They were marked with runes for ‘Needle’ on one, and Seldarine Prestess’ on the other. I recognized them by the aura, an unfortunate experience with a Thayan wizard long ago. These were ‘soul vessels’, and after explaining this, Jhessi declared she knew them in life. She and Bertilak would have to return them to a temple to have their souls freed.
We agreed that the chamber was safe enough to remain in for a time, rest a little and prepare the necessary spell. Jhessi and Bertilak left, going back the way we came. The rest explored a bit more, to ensure safety, and I set up a little shelter enough to feel I could rest… and wrote this before I set to memorizing the spell required.
One must understand that rest is not just about sleep, but about easing a stressful mind to allow it to accept the energies of a spell. Writing, organizing thoughts, is a form of meditation. I will write about how it went in the next entry.
I.R.S.