Song of the Ages


I’m just here to check in. I’m alive. That’s all.

Yoon stole all of the party’s healing potions at one point and I would punch her, but we’re all alive, so I guess that’s ok. And I’m alive. I guess that’s ok too.

Still kind of want to punch her. Doesn’t mean I will.

Two Blacksmiths

“You just let him take credit for that? Now you got nothing out of the trip except you have to pay monthly guild dues.”

“Not quite. I should be able to make most of that back by saving on bulk materials for the forge. And we could get the Guild to send us some apprentices.”

“But doesn’t everyone hate him? Do you hate him?”

Brosh sighed and refilled his tankard.

“Look, elf. People change. One day he’s gonna realize he’s not the powerful wizard he thinks he is. It’s gonna destroy him. He’ll need something he’s good at, something that makes him not think he’s totally worthless.”

“And the dead thing he carries around? What if he really is what he thinks he is?”

“Well… At least he’ll have a friend to keep an eye on him.”

Old friends

Now, I suppose I should tell you a little more about me for this to really make sense. You might know how a few years back the dwarves sent an army to Sutherland to help hold the border, yeah? Well, I was in that army. Not as a soldier, mind you, but as a young blacksmith that hoped that following them along long enough would get me enough coin to afford my own shop. I admit that I was greener than green back then, didn’t even know much about fighting or the like, just had a hope that this would get me the future I thought I wanted.

Then things went sideways. I don’t know exactly why we decided to march out past the frontier and try to retake that tower. I heard some soldiers say that it was part of a plan that the humans and our generals had agreed on, that we’d retake the place and rebuild it enough to really serve in war again, while they would watch our flank. I heard others say that our generals were getting ahead of themselves, determined to risk a few bloody fights in hope that we could make a name for ourselves, or perhaps I should say for themselves. Either way, once we retook the tower, there were no humans guarding our flanks. No one to shield us from the surprise retaliation that the savages threw at us. And at that point, the generals were more worried about getting their forces back alive. They didn’t care about the stragglers that had attached themselves to that army in the meantime. We got left behind and swarmed. The tower became a slaughterhouse; cooks, smiths and whores all trying desperately to hold the blasted pile of rocks from an enemy that knew more about war than we did. I got out alive, if just barely, but most didn’t.

Well, this time I got to see what happened to them. I suppose I didn’t want to think about it on the way up, but I couldn’t fool myself too long. Many of the undead walking the place now had faces I once knew, some of them I even could put names with and had once called friends. I suppose if you wanted a place that didn’t lack in corpses, this tower was the place to be, but these were not just corpses for me. I could very well have been one of them. Perhaps some surface god had spared me that fate or my ancestors had been watching out for me, but seeing what my friends had become really hit me in the gut. I felt fear, but I wasn’t afraid of anything I could put my finger on. It was like a painful itch that I couldn’t scratch, nagging at my thoughts and driving me to distraction. I guess after a while, I had a good idea what I was afraid about.

I was afraid that I should have died here and not them. It may not make much sense, but that’s as best I could put it. I felt pain and fear for having survived what they didn’t. I was afraid that I had let them down by living.

Now, whether this is true or not doesn’t matter. It’s what I felt but thankfully I’m not the green smith I once was. Mama Broarhush made me more than that. She helped me learn that when I’m scared, I need to get angry. Really angry. I survived this place once, I was going to survive it again. I left my friends behind once to their deaths, the least I could do now was return them to that death in peace. I could kill the man who dared use their remains like this. I could and would. For them and for me.

Another Coded message

Through what must have been several days of hard work, squinting and scribbling at parchment by candlelight, the following message has been decoded from The Folly of Llamryl and other Nursery Rhymes.

The day Syr Evan rose to godhood, I remember Eadwig was not happy. You tried to shield me from seeing them fight, Father and Eadwig. Eadwig, of course, had been promised the Authority of War, and Syr Evan, he felt, impeded upon that Authority. Father tried to make them work together, but they became bitter enemies. I wonder if that day was when the darkness entered Eadwig’s heart. Syr Evan, for his part, left behind a holy relic, one that now serves as the final key for the lock that hides Eadwig’s heart. Let no one say I do not have a knack for poetic justice.

Old stomping grounds

What do you want? Yeah, we got back from the elven isle safe and sound, though we did have to pound a giant along the way. The fort had come a long way since last we’d seen it, with the inn finished and operating. The drinks on tap were good, though I’ll have to see if we can diversify the stock even more. If we could have some of the more exotic brews I’ve had in my travels on tap, I might even consider settling down.

Might, mind you. I can’t always vouch for the itch in my feet and in my soul.

And after that? Aren’t you being a bit nosy? Well, yes, I’ve told you so much of our story so far, maybe it is rude to leave you… but, well, the next part is a bit personal, see? I don’t much like talking about it. Never really talked about it in length even with the rest of the Black Foxes. But I suppose there’s some good in airing it out. Like spitting, sometimes you got to do it to let you breathe.

So, coming back to the fort, we found Anya waiting for us with a job offer. You know, Anya, Fulgin’s sister. Never really met her myself, but she traveled with Qelroth a bit before. Turns out she’s one of those Lighthand lot you hear about. She wanted our help clearing out a ruined tower close to the border to the north. Seems like she’d heard it was being used by some necromancer and she wanted us to run him out of there. We agreed since, well, we all had our reasons, but I don’t think the others knew I had some history with that particular tower. Not good history either. Long story short, lots of good people died and me nearly along with them. Ended up having to spend a lot of time away from civilization, which could be where the itch started. Anyways, we left to get to this tower.

We stopped at the last stronghold and got our supplies. Even ran into a familiar face, though why she’s still with the army at all baffles me. After what the generals did, I’d never want to take orders again. From anyone, not just them. After there, we decided to cut through the swamplands that lay directly between us and the tower. Not a pleasant place, but a bit like home to me now. Like I said, I spent a good amount of time away from normal folk and that was one of the places. We even ran into a familiar face there. Older half-orc woman that nursed me back from the brink of death, back in the day. She’s the one that helped me really tap into my anger and fight. Granted, we weren’t meeting on the best of terms. Her village had just been attacked by savages and she was hellbent on finding them and seeing if they had any prisoners she could free. She gets like that with those she sees as family. It’s just how she is.

I talked the others into helping her. I was going to do it even if they weren’t, but I was glad to have their help. Even with them, I nearly got overwhelmed, surrounded by fur and teeth and… something else, but fortunately we won out and managed to free those two kids you see running around the fort now. Sent them all back here since they had no place to call home no more. The rest of us though had to deal with that tower still, so we kept going forward.

Secret Text Passage 4
The Folly of Llamryl and other Nursery Rhymes

Transcription of the full secret text that Belfran and Farin found within “The Folly of Llamryl and other Nursery Rhymes” while traveling by ship from Desya to Westport.


Thoughts on Revenge, Assholery and other things

My idea of revenge was political sabotage, instead we ended up killing Alwin.
But I guess this ending was more fitting considering Alwin tried to kill us… I learned long ago that just killing people isn’t very satisfying, or at least, I do not finding killing people to be so. When I got my throat cut I hunted down and killed those responsible, but it didn’t change anything. I was still robbed of my voice, and the death of those who hurt me did nothing, and I still had to learn to live with my new handicap.
So, having learned that, I intended on leaving Alwin in ruin and scandal, but instead we left him dead. I guess it’s not really a loss, at least we know for certain that he can never come back to harm the Black Foxes… but there is no sense of personal satisfaction at his death.
Why does revenge seem to make everyone else feel better, when revenge does nothing for me?
Oh well, I guess it doesn’t really matter. What’s done is done.
The visit to House Amastaria wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I probably should have been nicer. I mean, my father truly seems sorry for… everything…
But what can I say? I’m an asshole.
I kept throwing Wyllo under the carriage too. I was hoping on getting myself out of the spotlight by drawing attention to the fact that Wyllo is part of the family. It somewhat worked but I’m rather sure that Wyllo is now miffed at me.
Again, asshole

I know I’ve been acting like a child ever since we got to Celeria, but somehow I just couldn’t bring myself to be courteous to my father after all these years. I wanted to be jerk.

In other news we rescued Oak’s family. I haven’t taken any time to get to know Oak, he seems like an asshole to me(I guess that means that we should get along fine…) I’m not overly fond of him thus far at any rate, but I am rather curious to get to know his family. Seeing as now the four of them, Oak, and myself are the only elves living among humans on a permanent basis. Chances are I’ll be spending more time with them in the long run after everyone else in the Black Foxes dies of old age.

Note to self: Apologize to Wyllo for being an asshole
Other note to self: Check out that book Belfran stole from my library, he said it’s important

Someone Slap Wyllo

My desire to hurt Wyllo continues to grow everyday. When did she become my superior? Was it when she got her beloved Firenze? Or perhaps it was when she decided she could go from some failed thief to Elvish royalty. Either way, she’s not better than me nor anyone else in the party. Someone needs to bring those elves back down to reality. I don’t follow them, nor will I ever. Mutiny, anyone?


So we managed to get to that island of elven outcasts, right? Belfran got his hands on a ritual that would let us travel to and from the main elven island, but I admit I wasn’t feeling too fond of going. Of all the elves I’ve met, the ones from the main island seem to have a screw or two loose in their heads. And I don’t mean that in a good way.

We went anyways. Turns out Faren’s family was waiting for us at the teleportation circle and though she had told us little about them, I was expecting something to go sideways quickly since she must have had a reason to run away from home. Fortunately, the only thing that happened was sitting through a lavish dinner with Faren’s father apologizing to her again and again and Wyllo’s dad, now aware of her existence, trying feebly to get to know her. Not much of a backbone, that one. All in all, it turned out better than I’d expected, especially when Faren’s dad said that he was leaning on Alwin’s family to turn over Oak’s family at once.

Smooth sailing, right? Wrong.

The next morning when we went to pick up Oak’s kin, Alwin was there with some troops and tried to roast them in front of us. At least when asked why, he could admit out loud that it was simply to spite us. Fortunately, we were able to save his family and kill Alwin, which in my mind is the very definition of win-win. Now we just have to get back home and figure out what is going on with lich cultists attacking our fort.

Things I'll Never Say

Ok, let’s talk about this leader nonsense. And this family nonsense.

I think I may have made a mistake as “leader” of our group. I have this issue with things being taken away from me that I didn’t consent to, and generally it also involves people. I never asked for family, but I also never asked for them to be taken away…or for them to sail away without knowing that I existed. I’m not angry or bitter about that—not enough that I would ever do anything about it or pretend it hadn’t happened. It is the way it is. I grew up a thief, I messed up a job, I went into hiding with Yoon.

No big deal, right?

Until Yoon gets framed for murder. Which isn’t unlikely, considering things she’s done, but come on. What’s the point in framing an assassin who’ll cut your throat out? What’s the point in framing an assassin who has a thief friend who’ll smite you with an arrow? (Yea, that second one I did. That’s not hypothetical.)

I think the problem came up when I made the mistake of thinking that it created a bond between people. And yet, following the unfolding of events after Yoon being framed, we ended up in a position where she kills someone and Fulgen gets angry and leaves. I don’t like when people leave. I like it about as much as I like people lying to me, and we well know how much I despise people lying to me.

Basically. Fulgen left, Yoon lied.

Points lost.

And then cue some family that I’d never bargained for, with some high, noble blood that I didn’t ask for either. I’m having some minor regrets about this whole situation. I don’t like when things happen without the active consent of all players involved, and finding out that I might have some relation to Farin, (Fey) who so conveniently came to our aid when we were fighting a dragon demon was just something that clicked on my instinct, I suppose. Where does that even come from? If it had been Yoon that had been kidnapped (hahahaha. Let’s be honest, they’d all be dead before leaving port.), I would have carved my way through with Firenze. I don’t know if I like all of this rational logic telling me that I should go after someone I don’t even know.

And on that topic of not knowing, when we finally caught up with Farin (Fey) and her captors, she was in a fucking dress? She’d gone all regal and at the risk of losing anyone else, I offered to switch places with her. Rather, I took up the offer. On that subject, everything would have been fine if Mosi and Belfran hadn’t decided they weren’t ok with that and come after the ship I portaled onto with that Xilro elf. Person. Whatever. In Mosi’s and Belfran’s defense, I’m not enough of a leader to tell them not to do something, and I wouldn’t want to be. So logically, not telling them not to do something stupid because I’m not that sort of person was the exact thing that fucked us over. Cue two broken ships. The one who commandeered to track Farin (Fey) down, and the one Farin (Fey) had been on with Xilro.

On the plus side, everyone in the company was relatively unscathed, so I guess that’s ok.

Fey, though, is being very…noble now. Not in a good way, though I wonder if there is such a thing. I’m not the biggest fan of the way she’s acting because it makes it difficult to explain to her that revealing herself to be alive after twenty-five years and then telling her father that she’s been held captive is probably not a good idea. Where’s our alibi, exactly? She’s wandering around with a group of mercenaries, one of whom is a bastard half elf that’s not supposed to exist and might come face to face with a father that probably also doesn’t know she exists. (Me. I’m talking about me.) On top of that, Fey is walking around in that dress with some crest ring or other and people are recognizing her for it and I don’t like it.

I don’t know what will be waiting for us in Celeria. I’ve been keeping a distance from Yoon because she has her own business she’s dealing with, but we’ve run into people from our past. Namely, a shirtless drow who’s helping us get into Celeria itself, and all I want right now is to go home. I suppose the closest thing to home is back at the Thieves’ Guild, but guess what I also found out after sending that letter to Scratch? Mother dearest never wanted me to be a thief. Scratch doesn’t want me in Celeria.

I’m setting a great record by disappointing everyone I know.

I just don’t want to be here. I should have thought this through. I’m surrounded by people and suddenly have no one to talk to. Not that I talked much anyway, but there’s a difference now.

If I run into Father dearest—I’m using these terms because I don’t know what else to call them; I think my Mother loved me, but I was too young when she was gone anyway, so what do I know, really—would he even know what I was? Who? Would he care?

Maybe when this is all over, I’ll go to back to…what was it. Shadowfell? The place with the tree underground. I’m pretty sure no one would look for me there. I have my little dragon and I have Firenze. That’s enough, right?

Point: I liked that tree. No random family members would pop out of it, right? I wouldn’t be compelled into something that I can’t make heads or tails of.


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