Crazy King

Dear Mother

Dear Mother,

It may strike you as odd that I am writing you only a few months after having left, so let me first put one concern to rest: I am well. That being said, it has been a struggle getting here. There have been battles. Many have suffered, at least as many have died. In all honesty, I did not expect to survive the latest battle.

Again, I am well.

As you have likely gathered much has occurred. I would rather not dredge up just now everything that has transpired, so I’ll provide a summary: The city of Karsis had been beset upon by a powerful evil these past few months, and I have tagged along with a band of misfits who made it their mission to stop that evil. Oh, and we won. I suppose the destination can be better than the journey. That’s what I tell myself now anyway.

Really, I’m fine.

Although I am a little disappointed. I had planned to travel widely, the wider the better, but now I seem to be stuck here in Karsis. No, actually that’s not right. Stuck isn’t the right word. Tethered perhaps. I had envisioned choosing a more permanent home from a list compiled after a lengthy journey, each locale bringing with it fond memories. In thinking on it I realise I have journeyed. The memories are pleasant less often than I would have liked, but that is the way of things I think. I do like it here. Karsis will be my home for at least as long as my tether is here.

She’s really something, you should meet her one day.

I have a favour to ask. My companions and I are in search of old dragons, the older the better really, and preferably friendly ones. We’re hoping to ask them about something called the god-killer, or god-slayer, you get the idea. Currently the plan is to visit Aria but I relish neither the idea of more cold or red dragons, so, if in your travels you have heard anything, please let me know. I can be reached more or less reliably in Karsis.

Please send my love to my brothers and sisters, and while my adventures have been every bit as stupendous as I told them they would be, it may be best if they continued to believed my exhortations extravagant. Tell my father that I have both acquired and spent in equal measure more wealth than I ever imagined I’d lay my eyes upon. I’m sure he’ll find that amusing, if not heartbreaking.

I will try to visit as soon as it is practical. Perhaps I will visit without ever having delivered this letter.

Hoping you are well, with love,


I no longer beleive in the impossible.

Things are quite now. For the first time in what feels like eons. The rage is quelled. replaced by an almost serene calm. The foe is dead. and I am still alive. oh, and the gods are gone… and not really gods… but that is a story for another time.

I don’t remeber much of the fight. Cold, pain, and sadness. Thats all there is to truly remember, and blackness. Besides Brian, i was the first to be knocked out of the fight. but from what I’ve been told Brian wasn’t stopped by mere death, holding on to his mortal coil through sheer force of will.

i don’t remeber much past that. darkness, the inability to focus on a singular thought. I can recall hearing screams of pain in my daze but at the time i couldn’t tell what they were. the next thing that i remeber is Laji slipping a neclace around my neck and kissing me. yelling we did it.

I dont know how long before we leave for the next stage of the jourey, and there will be one. but now, we rest.

Hope Lives On

“…a better wizard than Laji,” said the Foe and his words echoed through Lajicuvatew’s mind. The failed counterspell was still rebounding off of his fingers, the lost moments weighing on Laji as he saw the others suffer for his failure. The Foe had been too strong. Cedric had weakened him but he was still too strong for them. Struggling to keep hopelessness from consuming him, Laji prepared another Dispel Magic and hurled it at the Foe. In the next moment it was exhilaration that he was suppressing. He had managed to wear away at some of the bastard’s defences. The Foe might still be stronger than him but Laji would not give up on killing him. The Foe would die or he would. It was a simple, almost magical, equation. Laji could not help but ponder what it would be like to die. He had never faced down the gates of death like the others had.

The thought made Laji glance quickly at the apparition of Brian hovering nearby. The Foe’s attack had been swift and brutal against the humble looking human. Nonetheless, it was a comfort that he remained with them in at least some capacity. Laji wondered if it was indeed purely on Brian’s shoulders that they were working against the Foe, as Regulus believed. The gnome who had answered the call to arms all that time ago seemed a totally different person. Laji knew that he had been even more self-serving then. Perhaps his younger self, less than a year younger but lacking a millenia of maturity, would have bent knee to this megalomaniacal fool. Perhaps once but never now. Now he would win or die.

The fight advanced and grew steadily worse. One after another, Regulus struck down the people who had become more a family to him than his own. His oldest companion Werevolt collapsed from a blow from the staff. Whether he was alive or dead Laji could not say and he dared not spare a moment to check. The loyal Jerble, his self-declared bodyguard, crumbled in the same way after dispelling the remnants of Brian. The freedom of lower magics was a mixed blessing as the Foe hurled forth more of his endless magic. In time it was only Imian and Laji standing, not the configuration that Laji would have wished for to make a final stand against King Regulus, the final hope of evil to triumph over oblivion. On some deep and not fully conscious level, Laji prepared to die.

Laji threw what meager magics he had remaining forward. Invisibility and a wall to hold the Foe at bay. Anything to buy them a few more precious moments of life, a few more precious seconds of struggle. Laji found himself bonded to Imian in the ensuing moments, as they squeezed each others hands in mutual recognition of the impending end. They were both apostates to the Foes twisted cause and they would both die rebelling. There was a simple comraderie between the doomed. Imian attempted to imitate tiny gnome footsteps and Laji felt a surge of gratitude as he snuck away, hopeful that the Foe would be distracted for even a moment. The ruse failed before it had even begun and the Foe, agitated by their persistence, hurled a spell to send Laji into a delirium of pain.

Laji felt the spell rebound off of his spell shield. It was a new addition to his arsenal, just barely within his comprehension. He felt a trill of excitement as he realized that it had worked and that the spell was returning to its caster. It smote into the Foe and he gave a gasp of surprise as the spell took effect. Laji stood frozen as he looked on. It did not seem possible. The spell shield had returned the spell and the mighty Foe was at the mercy of his own magic. He collapsed to the ground beneath the weight of spell. Laji surged into motion and he could hear Imian doing the same. Their invisibility crumbled away as they both fell upon the Foe like ravens upon carrion.

Laji’s bone was in hand and Imian wielded his rapier. They both felt the icy cold and the chills to their very soul as they smote the Foe. His defensive magics were still active though he was incapacitated. Laji did not allow that to slow him. Together they wore away at the Foe, accepting the price to their life force gleefully. Laji’s bone was slick with sweat and the bizarre substance that passed for the Foe’s blood. Timbertope chirped in exhultation as the bone smote down over and over upon the Foe’s face. Slowly his handsome face gave way, coming apart and melting away into skin flakes. Neither he nor Imian stopped. They continued to strike until the flakes were showering through the air from their exertions.

They looked at each other. They had done it. They had done the impossible.

The Adventure of a Lifetime: Meeting Laji and Co.

Ok, let me get this down on paper because I know Uncle Bajjer will ask for the details on this grand adventure! So, what started with a bad series of events led to me meeting the weirdest assortment of lads. One minute I’m with my uncle and then weeks later I’m being saved by these people. Who was to know I’d get attached to them. Well, I’ve just been a tag along this whole time. Helping where I could. Not really feeling like I was there to do more than be a tool. It was their business so what say did I have in it. I just did what was asked. As I stayed longer thing became more comfy with them.

They are a strange bunch. Werevolt, by far the most outwardly strange, is a part dragon… thing?…. that is designed to just put a hole in anything in it’s way. Wait, HIS way. He’s a good guy though and has shown interest in a more regimented system of combat. I will teach him what I can. This is going to be quite a ride!

Laji, my main gnome, is the one I took as my main charge for protecting. Though, I do feel a sense of protection for everyone now, Laji is a sensitive gnome inside and I need to protect that. No one, and I mean NO ONE, is going to get away with permanently harming my Laji. He’s my original entry into the party and a fellow gnome. He’s my gnome while we roam.

Imian, the face of the group. DEFINATELY the most attractive, in every sense of the word, human I have EVER met. He’s quite a guy and I feel like he doesn’t hate me AS much nowadays. Great ideas flow from his beautiful mind like wine from a bottle. The party would not be as much fun were he not there.

Brian. What can I say of him. I knew him not long. He was a dear member of the party’s and has passed for the second time from what I know of him. He was quite powerful and a key component to the group. Without him, I worry the group may fail where it shouldn’t and falter when it should flutter. I look forward to him coming back one day. Everything happens in threes you know.

Finally, what brings us to the here and now. The Foe. King Regulos. By far the silliest and most useless I have EVER felt. He was by far the strongest thing I have faced myself. The tale of the fight will be a tale I can not put to pen but must be passed on in story. The weaving and slashing of everyones weapons and spells can only be appreciated with the right inflections and body motions. My uncle taught me to tell stories, good ones anyways, with your whole body. You are trying to give people not only something to hear but something to see. Something to fuel their imagination and remove themselves from their world.

So, we are done! For now. I feel like we shall take a rest, even if slight, and move on to our next big problem. We always seem to be on some type of time frame, other than our lifespan. So inconvenient when I’m trying to find you Uncle.

Quieting the voices. Quelling the night

I Haven’t written in a while, its hard to focus on a page when you cant even get a moments silence in your own head.

Ever since the Xern I havent had a moments peace. I fear that i have looked into the abyss for far too long, and that instead of looking back it has taken up residence in my mind.

I no longer even know which voice is mine, but i know that some of them are not me. It was not my idea that saved my beloved but one from one of the voices. I don’t know where they come from, but they seem to contain a great amount of knowledge. much of it things i could have known, should have known.

The voices only grow louder when theres killing to be done. the only thing that seems to quiet them enough to allow me to focus is singing the tune of a lullaby that my mother sang to me. even with the song to focus on its getting harder and harder to drown them out. one day i fear i will not be able to any longer.

but these are thoughts for another day. Fate may have a different path for me. for while i wait in the damp airless crypt of a city the greatest foe I have ever faced waits for our small ragged band. we know nothing of him, and he knows nearly everything about us.

Our options are as limited as our resourses and our time is even more limited then that. I doont know many thing about what my immediate future holds, but what i do know is that between the foe and I, only one of us will be walking away from this fight alive. In my days, i have heard bards say that the pen is mightier than the sword. None of them have ever seen me swing one before. and the foe will be getting a first hand taste of that.

I have prepared myself for the even that I will have to sacrifice myself to ensure the groups survival. My will is in the possesion of Laji. Kara is safe back in Karsis and the city is preparing itself for the event that we fail. I have made my peace with myself and my deeds. I am ready for what the morrow may bring.

For all we have ventured, what have we gained?

I have of late been worried that we have already lost. The Cruel Edict’s information seems to confirm my suspicion that the Foe has been attempting to shape us, with some success I fear. I have long known that my time in the zerns’ lair made me colder, harder, but recent events have given me a glimpse of the extent of the damage. When the Goliath refused to give up his weapon, I was quite committed to seeing him die. He was a danger to our well-being, and so his life was forfeit in my eyes. But Brian called for another way, and such a way was found. Again I failed to see an alternative when we were presented with the foe’s ultimatum. Have I really lost my ability to value the lives of others? The Foe seems to want to twist us, to corrupt us. That is why Brian was made to suffer as he did, and I fear that without him we may let things slide, and that we may not regain our lost perspective.

…We. I keep saying we when I really mean to say “I”. How can I have allowed myself to fail like this? I must do better, somehow.
A Weary Conviction

I like to pride myself on being a smart gnome. Well, no, that’s the king of understatements. I like to pride myself on being a genius gnome. To that end, I’m always impressed when someone is able to conjure up an idea that had not occurred to me. Generally I just feel angry and envious but this time around was different. Werevolt. The big lummox has a head on his shoulders after all, at least when he’s pressed. He may have dropped me down a pit like a moron but now in the eleventh hour he comes through and concocts a plan to save Brian’s father and his own slave lovers life, the Foe’s supposed ultimatum be damned. Perhaps that dragon blood is starting to do some good and getting the juices flowing upstairs as well as through those rippling muscles of his.

It will take all of my teleportation magic and it depends on that unreliable spell not backfiring but if we can pull it all off we should be able to save two lives instead of just one. I know that should be the big selling point on this whole endeavour. Perusing Pelor’s holy book, having Brian back, I’m beginning to more fully understand the utility of the whole righteous thing. It’s especially true when you are going against the biggest of all bastards, the Foe. Despite that, the big perk in my mind to pulling off this plan is not saving lives but giving a big towering middle finger to the bastard who thinks he can control us. I always knew magic was the solution to our problems and I’m vindicated. We can disrupt the Foe’s plans and keep Brian and Werevolt happy. It sounds like a win-win to me.

I’m beginning to feel tired. I feel like each day that passes is a few decades off my life. The New Year is just around the corner and we still have to pull of this crazy teleportation plan, rush into Helm’s Grave, and hope that it is the end point. Then we have to hope we can beat whatever the hell the Foe actually is and come out of this alive and sane. I want to have faith in Pelor that he will deliver us through all this. Having that kind of faith in Boccob is pretty pointless since he doesn’t give a damn either way, but Pelor has shown he’s a different sort. He brought Brian back as a saint which, as divine decisions goes, is about as sound as any idea I’ve heard before or since. I’m afraid to place my faith in that way though. I need all my energy driving toward my magic, toward my reasoning. I need every resource at the ready to pour into this coming confrontation.

There have been plenty of times in the past months that I’ve worried if I would live. The Zern, the crypt, even way back in the forest. Yet I’ve never felt this heavy dread before. I didn’t understand it at first but Timbertope saw to the heart of the matter. This death means something more than my own. It means the endangerment of Karsis. The endangerment of the world. It means Ypes will die. It means Jimpy will be forced to flee or go down in a blaze of glory (again). It means that everything that myself and the Big Guy have worked for were ultimately for nothing. I’m not used to feeling that kind of responsibility on my shoulders. Not in this way. The thought wearies me but all I can do is stand strong and see this to the end.

I’ll kill the Foe or I will die trying. It is odd to accept that conviction.

Entry.... well, who cares what number, Entry!

So, my friends are certainly smart. Werevolt surprisingly pulled an idea out of his ass, can you call that his ass anymore? I’ll have to check with my family when I get home. How the hell am I going to convince him to come home with me. Maybe a feast would work? Royal style. My aunt has put on enough royal style dinners I’m sure she could do something. Anyways! There was this slight… issue…. where both Brian and Werevolt had a loved one threatened. We were only supposed to have time to save one or the other. Werevolt has designed a way to get both of them, with a little help from out friends in Karsus and most of the magical finesse of our group of merry men. I let them figure it out because I feel more like an addition to the party than a part of it. I’m here to help them so that they might help me. Also, Laji is amazing and amusing. He has to meet my family, they could take him to the firing range. I’m sure they’d be impressed. While they worked out that plan, which is remarkable and much different than I put forward as our plan of attack, I polished up our horse. Had a couple vials of some magical oils so I figured, magical oils to polish a magical horse. Only fitting right? Not like we were using them anyways. So currently, were speeding along to our first destination, going to save that person, then do some magical teleportation and if all goes well save the other person as well. then back to finding The Foe. DUN DUN DUN! Ever find it amusing how well that translates into writing?

The Darkening Inferno

The battle lasted only a few minutes.

The stories I read before leaving Nay Trayspassing had always described brave battles in terms of mighty heroes smiting down their foes and protecting the innocent. They never mentioned the screaming. The terrifying sound of hundreds of people dying to uncaring evil. They never mentioned the unified marching of droves of undead as they struck at the home of thousands of hardworking people. They never talked about the lives lost, impossible to protect in the chaos of battle. They never mentioned how friends, foes, and people you’ve never even met die alike, no matter how hard you try. So I’m writing this so people know. So that they know that adventuring is not always about glory or victory. Sometimes it is about hard facts, terrible sacrifice, and prices paid in blood.

I’m tired. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired. Not while I was being tortured, not after Brian died. Never. I feel the weight of all those people, all those innocent people, weighing on me as I trudge through the corpses. I’m searching for familiar faces but I’m not sure why. It doesn’t make any difference. It’s all senseless. All this for some stupid weaklings quest for power. I’m beginning to understand, understand what the Magi Council tried to teach me. Disregarding life isn’t strength. Killing isn’t power. It’s pointless. These people didn’t need to die. Jimpy didn’t need to die. Cora didn’t need to die.

I wish I felt sorrow or pain. I wish I felt anything other than fatigue and rage. I don’t though. I feel the fire burning inside of me, desperate to be free. It keeps me warm, helps me to keep moving. The fire seeks vengeance with me. Everything else is distant, like a dream from another life. Everything but Timbertope, that is. I feel his sorrow and pain at the back of my mind. It makes me even more furious at the world. I know that someday I may feel as he does but not until this is finished. Until then he keeps watch of that part of me, the luxury I can’t afford as we go into this final stretch. I wonder if either of us will live to see this monstrous task done.

I will commit every bit of strength I have to killing the Foe. I will burn him. Burn him into ash and cast those ashes to the wind. I will see him pay in pain for the lives that he has ended, for the pain he has caused this city. I don’t care if I make it through anymore. This task is all that matters and I will see it done. Once I would have feared for my own life or the life of my friends. I don’t anymore. We don’t matter. Killing him is what matters. That is a death that will make a difference. A death that will matter to the entire world. A death that needs to happen. A death that will happen.

The battle lasted only a few minutes. I will make him answer for the battle for eternity.

Dear Uncle Bajjer

SO! I’m actually BOTHERING to write something down for once, which is a huge stretch for me, but I figure if I can find a wizard that is good at sending messages (no offense to Laji, but he just blows shit up better that a badger can woop ass) then I need to get at least this, if not a more in depth explanation of my adventure to my Uncle. We have survived a zomblie apocalypse and now need to take out the head honcho. Signior “The Foe”. I’m with Laji and the gang one hundred percent on this but how are we supposed to deal with a crazy and powerful being that can control undead and demonic hordes and SOMEHOW steal his scepter back?! LIKE, WHAT THE HELL MAN! Uncle, if you have received this then I hope you are ok and I assure you that at the time of preparing this I am fine as well. I am a tad shaken by the sheer loss that occured defending this town but we must make “The Foe” pay for this.I do not plan on dying (again) and I swear that I WILL find you! Also, How’s life? What’s new? I’m sure you have put down a couple undead hordes, or dragon kings…. or whatever else you casually walk through nowadays.

Love you lots!


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