#dakoyone

Instead, Harper ran into the field, got me out and stabilised me.

He has said that he means me no harm, that he would help, that he would see this done. It can’t be that simple. He is an intelligent and dangerous man, exceedingly skilled in [the Mulhorandi word used here could be translated into Common as ‘politics’, ‘interpersonal dynamics’, or ‘manipulation’]. If you save a life, you must have some further use for it in mind – it’s not an unusual manoeuvre – but in that case, it would be as counterproductive as it was insulting to decline the debt I acknowledged. What in all the Infinite Abyss is his objective?

What does he want from me?

Katy is being irritatingly melodramatic about the whole affair. Anyone with a brain in their head and any familiarity with the Weave can feel the difference between a spell she’s purposefully cast and when her magic goes wild. It’s a wonder any sorcerer survives their own magic – instinct is no substitute for conscious, reasoned control. In the interests of avoiding a repeat incident, I’ve offered to try and teach her. I entertain doubts about the efficacy of the whole business. She’s a child still, but one very set in her undisciplined ways – also, I’ve little knowledge of wild magic, the messy, chaotic, inelegant blight on the Weave that it is - and I very much doubt that the exercises that novice wizards are taught will be much help to her. We approach magic from completely opposite directions. Still. I’ll find a way. I refuse to be defeated by anything so minor as an uncontrolled sorceress and her unshaped magic.

Shay continues to be her contained, sensible self. It is a relief to be able to have a sane conversation in a civilised language with someone whose motives are largely known and whose background is similar enough that I do not have to struggle to make myself understood. I must be more careful; I would not like her to have to return home and confess failure to her elders, and not only because I would be dead at that point.

I suspect I’ll never forget the first time I visited the monastery. I am not squeamish, but I do not comprehend unnecessary cruelty. There is a point beyond which punishment or torture becomes ineffective, even as a deterrent for its witnesses. The monks passed it long ago. There was one specimen; most of his internal organs had been externalised for the education of twenty years’ worth of novice monks. The scarring, the burns, grafts, stitching on the living surface of his lungs… not something I would willingly bring on Shay.

…absolute darkness. Not the mere absence of light, but a void that actively obliterates it. Seventeen. The touch of darkness is a fluid netting, like veins or cobwebs, a warm almost-pressure against my face, enmeshing my hands. Thirty-five. Two serpentine figures, dividing and becoming men, then coming together again. Exchanges of matter.

That part of the dream is easy enough to record. After that… well. I was watching and I was the medium in which they moved, and if the images were unspecific, the sensations were not. I haven’t been troubled by desire that intense in years. There was fear, too, and a sense of familiarity about the men. I thought at one point it might be any pairing of Faraghor, Halvren or Vannos, if it were some trick of my subconscious, but it had the depth and cadence of a genuine dream. I hope it wasn’t, given that such dreams have a tendency to recur – in whole or in element - and once was unsettling enough.

It keeps teasing at the back of my mind - perhaps because of that unplaced sense of familiarity, perhaps because of the lingering and unwelcome disquiet. Inevitable, when control cracks, but nothing I haven’t dealt with before.

(the following line wanders upward and overlaps with previous lines, as though the writer was no longer looking at the page)

Stop watching me write, Harper. I can feel you smirking.

… it’s beautiful. One spell, several days of intense study, and all its secrets would be mine. My fingertips itch, and only touching the spine really soothes them. But I have to think.

My position is not strong enough. As an outsider to the Skullport Enclave, I was always going to attract attention – rather more of it than is compatible with my favoured approaches – and my display in the Tournament was not sufficiently intimidating to make any potential rivals among the Enclave Red Wizards think twice. Any good that might have come from it, I probably undid by my idiotic visit the day before we left. I expect, and have warned the others, that someone will try to claim my prize soon.

There are several options open to me, and myriad ways to achieve them.

Katy’s suggestion to simply walk away with the tome is ludicrous. I see little reason for it… unless she believes that I would unable to adapt or survive outside the order, and would thereby become more dependent, easily exploitable to her ends. She’s shown little sign of that order of thought, but it never pays to underestimate someone. Certainly Harper is capable of that sort of planning, and he could easily steer her in the correct direction... My early training has not left me well-suited me for life out here, true, but I am stronger than they think, and I certainly have no intention of abandoning my life’s purpose for an ill-defined whim.

If I handed it back intact… I would want some leverage to ensure that I was adequately rewarded. Difficult, but not impossible. The main fault with this is, of course, the sacrifice it entails. I want this tome, but there are things I may want more. The possible favour of Metoth Zurn. My advancement in the order. Not to antagonise Zurn further, or to make an enemy of the complete unknown to whom he intended to give the book – assuming the original letter can be trusted in that regard. Skullport is Zurn’s territory, Waterdeep is Daraam’s, and I have their attention now; this is a poor time for risks. My own allies are clearly marked as such and vulnerable.

What Red Wizard worth her robes would walk into the same trap twice?

And yet, I keep tempting myself with the tome. How to use it, then give it to Zurn; how to cover my tracks, assuming he expects it to be active. On one hand, a century is not much time for someone sustained by necromancy; on the other, nobody likes to wait for their advantages. If I had thirty days, Nystul’s Magic Aura could make it appear active – but at the end of the study period, it would be obvious that something was wrong. Moot point; forty-eight hours would not be enough time to put myself entirely out of reach of Zurn or Daraam. I could use a scapegoat.

I have finally mastered Teleportation Circle and Nondetection (absurd, that the latter should have eluded me for so long, however little I like the concept), both of which may prove useful in the near future. It’s pleasing to finally have a use for the two sigil sequences I have memorised.

Interesting developments with Harper. It would appear that, after all these weeks of… I would write ‘innuendo’, but I believe that word suggests a degree of subtlety… they have found a moment of privacy for sex. Or, at least, Harper is willing to have us believe that’s the case, and I estimate the probability is high. Curious, and potentially troubling. I gave him the piece of advice that saved me in similar situations. I know Harper’s value; the drow remains an unknown and extremely dangerous factor.

He thanked me for helping Katy, despite the fact I’ve taught her nothing as yet. He didn’t deny he was kvaleth (a Mulhorandi word, not widely used outside Thay. ‘Superior’, ‘ascendant’, ‘dominant’, or ‘senior’ are possible Common translations, as are ‘responsible’, ‘with power’, ‘with authority’, ‘owed obedience’ and ‘owing protection’) to Katy in their alliance, but appeared genuinely grateful that I’d offered to teach her what he could not. It’s understandable that he would wish her magic under better control, I suppose – it could just as easily have been him within range of her fireball – but perhaps he is not fostering her dependence on him as carefully as I’d thought. He also winced, quite visibly, when I used the word ‘responsible’. Interesting. I suspect it might have something to do with his past, but I still lack sufficient information.

He said he would like Shay and myself to stay with them – giving further weight to the possibility that he was the one behind Katy’s suggestion that I simply walk away from my order. He also raised the subject several weeks before she did. I wish I knew what he was planning.

Shay seems to be drinking less. Possibly she’s come to the end of her alcohol supply after two weeks out in the Underdark, but I suspect there is something else afoot. I deem it inadvisable to press too hard. It appears that Shay may wish to leave the Long Death, but doesn’t believe it’s possible. As I told her, I think it unlikely they could do anything to track her that could not be dealt with, if that was her choice. Here I am, disdaining Harper for not keeping close control of his wastet-le (another Thayan term, the counterpart of the last difficult-to-translate one, indicating the ‘junior’, ‘inferior’, ‘obedient’, ‘protected’ or ‘lesser’ partner in an alliance), while I stand ready to sever the foundation of my alliance with Shay at her word. But I t- (a large ink blot follows the broken word, suggesting that the writer left her pen sitting on the page for some time).

Szass Tam’s pickled balls.

That would be problematic. It appears to be true.

I will have to think about this, and whether I shall inform her of it.

The rest of the page is left blank. When the text resumes, the handwriting is unusually slanted and untidy, and the encryption is almost cursory; the writer appears to have been in a hurry.

Well, how intriguing. Harper has escorted the drow just outside the Tiny Hut spell and is asking him questions. Which the drow is answering. Harper has (present tense, presumably the survivor in control of the family business) a cleric brother, possible fit with some of the things he’s said about the gods. Point of killing the Tyrran? Gave the truth before, impeding activities of his organisation. Difficulties of being on the wrong side of so many gods? The drow implies feeling responsible for an entire people, which requires him to provoke divine wrath, and there is nobody else who would do it properly, ‘we can’t choose whether the gods favour us or not’. Deity he serves? Harper wouldn’t recognise the name, but has nothing to fear on that account. Teach Khem the trick of navigating to Skullport? Shrewd request, will do so on our return.

The usual intricate encryption resumes at this point.

I am exceedingly impressed. That was a great deal of very useful information Harper extracted – and where I could hear it for myself, too, not merely reported to me. Of course, the drow might have been lying – one assumes he is familiar with the properties of the Tiny Hut spell - but it didn’t sound that way. For what that’s worth. I am more interested in Harper’s choice of action, although I will not read too much into it. He is far too good at what he does.

The first is this new power she has developed since her experience with the clerics of Yurtrus. It is, of course, counter-productive to ignore the very real impact the gods can have on the world, either directly or through the actions of their idiot faithful. I would not have predicted that Shay would choose to align herself with such parasitic, demanding and arrogant creatures; I will even confess to a small disappointment. I had a higher opinion of her than that. Nevertheless, I cannot deny that it has earned her power. I have not seen her use it often enough to be entirely certain of its purpose, which is concerning, and, having opened the door to divine interference in her life, it is difficult to see where it may stop. I shall monitor her for developments.

The second is possibly more concerning. Harper continues to ingratiate himself with her, quite blatantly, and I am unsure how to counter him. She is supposed to be my bodyguard, but I confess I have been depending unduly on her own sense of duty. The means I would use to cultivate another Red Wizard are almost meaningless to her, and although I am learning as swiftly as I can, the fact remains that Harper is more familiar with such tactics. If I should lose her to him, the balance tips dangerously out of my favour… My advantage, I think, is that I know the Order of the Long Death tolerably well, and what Shay has been used to within its walls; I can leverage that, but then Harper’s manoeuvring against her inexperience is covering much the same ground.  Brothels, really? That is not ground on which I will compete. Gifts, perhaps? She and Twitch seem to have developed something of a rapport – perhaps that Bag of Tricks I saw in the bazaar would amuse her?

A span as yet decrypted follows, eventually clearing into the following passage. In contrast to the tone, the writing remains steady and even.

… he spoke, and I raised my hands to my eyes and gouged them out. I gave them to him, and he mounted them in his rotting eye sockets. It took exactly seven strokes of the dull blade to sever my tongue. My mouth filled with blood, washing the spells away. Then I forced the blade through my left wrist. It stuck halfway, and I screamed that I could not obey until he set his hand over mine and freed the blade. Twenty-three strokes to cut off my left hand. Thirty total, average fifteen. I begged him to help me. I could not cut off my right hand without help. I promised him anything he desired, if only he would help me sever it as he wished. He said the means was within my power. I set my teeth to my right wrist. Blood and blood. Crack and crack. Again. Two hundred and sixty-one. Seven. Fractions. Twenty-three. Again. Thirty. Broken numbers. Fifteen. Broken. Again.

- I did not recognise the voice. I am unsure what this dream portends, but at least it was relatively mild. I was more disturbed when it changed and I felt them again. All those mage hands all over me. All of them watching and laughing. I thought I’d trained my subconscious out of replaying that particular memory. Probably the alcohol was to blame; I had similarly undisciplined and unpleasant memories in place of useful dreams after Khaseth poisoned me.

Still, these things pass. It is more important that I retain clear memory of everything that occurred while I was so stupidly drunk, and more important still that I did said or did nothing irredeemable. In fact, my training held almost perfectly; with one exception, everything I babbled about could either have been gleaned from commonly-available sources, or reasonably extrapolated from them. Or, indeed, from my observable behaviour. The exception, of course, is that while Harper could have safely assumed that I distrust him and wish to penetrate whatever it is that veils his mind, he was extremely unlikely to have guessed that I considered Banishing him. His reaction to that was a little curious, I think… I am still not convinced that he is human.

My mouth still tastes of stale blood, my brain feels rather as though someone is carving its sulci deeper with an acid-coated awl, and we set out into the Underdark today. I truly have become dangerously stupid out here. I suppose that is one good thing to be said for the presence of the drow; I have someone to keep me from drifting entirely into poor habits.

The next few pages contain disdainful descriptions of a wide variety of fungus.

… Threat assessment: Katy (6th revision)

Wild Magic effects: Invisibility on others but not herself; pink, feathery beard. Inanities.

New spell observed: Hex.

Katy has become far more adept with her magic, to the point where her effectiveness in a recent battle came perilously close to matching my own. I am not averse to letting her waste her spell energy, but nevertheless… this sudden increase in her usefulness in concerning. I might be mistaken about divine magic, but not this. Hex is not a usual manifestation of sorcerer magic; it is a warlock spell.

She would not be the first sorcerer to realise her haphazard innate magic is not sufficient, and to turn to other means of procuring power. The warlock pact has always stood ready for such fools. It would also, possibly, explain the peculiar creature she summoned and called Bob; it could easily be a manifestation of her patron, or a creature that answers to it. If she has indeed sold herself to a patron, it falls on me to discern what manner of being it is, and what its motivations are likely to be. Some of the beings known to sponsor warlocks are highly inimical, while others are simply unknowable. There is no telling what actions it may require of Katy.

Of course, there is the possibility that I am getting ahead of myself. There are other means by which Katy might have acquired a warlock spell, not least that it may simply be an unusual quirk of her wild magic. Nevertheless, I judge her quite likely to have made such a pact. I will watch her behaviour closely for evidence for or against this hypothesis. I also intend to question her about that summoned creature, and possibly study it for myself. It seemed to have an unhealthy influence over her.

… cannot shake the feeling I am overlooking something obvious. The letter to Metoth Zurn must have been intended as a test for me; there are myriad secure ways that wizards such as he and Anishta Daraam could communicate. There is a portal between their territories, for Szass Tam’s sake: they could have spoken in person! I probably performed much to expectations – that is, not sufficiently well to avoid putting myself in a vulnerable position. What is the relationship between those two? Why would she inform him of an artefact and potential influence to be gained instead of going after it herself, if it were genuine?

The whole affair makes much more sense if it is not – but, then, it could hardly be aimed at Metoth Zurn, as he would hardly go after it himself. Unless the artefact itself exists as a threat to him… There are too many unknowns at present.

It would make more sense still if it were all directed at me, but I have hardly done anything to mark myself for disposal – unless Anishta Daraam is oversensitive about perceived disrespect. Which she might well be, given that her blue eyes clearly mark her blood as impure. I can more easily understand why one of the others at the Skullport Enclave might wish to remove me: I would turn a wary eye myself on someone who had a personal audience with the head of my Academy, who then made a public showing of her prowess, asked for uncommon materials, and went on expedition. But the letter predates that. If, then, this is truly aimed at me, it must be orchestrated out of Thay. It would not have been too difficult to arrange. I must think more on the rivals I left behind me…

… Threat assessment: Taliesin Harper (23rd revision).

This man is taking up far too much of my precious thinking time. Nor do I expect the situation to resolve soon; almost every time I approach him with questions – of which I have many, after some of the things he said or implied during that unfortunate drinking session – he is otherwise occupied, obviously not disposed towards inquiry, or forestalls me by asking a flurry of his own questions. It’s not that I mind answering, since almost everything so far has either been obvious (are you homesick, then?) or utterly pointless (so why go back?) – it’s the time it takes. It would seem counter-productive to refuse to answer or to tell him to shut up so I can take a turn (and I can all-too-easily envisage the infuriating smirk that would answer me if I said anything so foolish). So, among other things, this revision marks yet another conversational weapon.

Well. He gave me a look with a distinct ‘I intend to castigate you later’ overtones after I confirmed my hypothesis about the drow and his relationship with Lloth. Possibly after such a conversation, if I can appear sufficiently contrite, I might have an opportunity to interrogate him. Such information, naturally, is unreliable – I know he is an accomplished liar – but anything is better than the mystery he currently presents.

He continues to spread his pernicious influence among the group. He already had Katy under reasonable control when we met; as noted in Shay’s last assessment, he appears to have made alarming inroads there as well. It is more difficult to judge his progress with the drow – not least because their conversations are almost invariably nauseating – but at the very least, he is more courteous with Harper, and seems more inclined to listen to him. He certainly places Harper as the leader of this disparate little group, when anyone with even a passing familiarity with my order should cast me in that role. In any case, it is probably safe enough to assume that when Harper makes the move for which he has been gathering so much support, the drow is likely to side with him.

He still has not displayed any magic beyond whatever it is that shields his mind. Furthermore, while he continues to grow stronger and swifter in combat, he has shown no unusual development at this point. However, he has grown sufficiently talented in stealth to successfully approach the drow undetected. This is of severe concern.

I know I have not verbally told him more than I wished to at any point, but I suspect that has not been enough. If I could survey his thoughts I could glean a more accurate assessment of what he has deduced about me and my capabilities, and I would feel a great deal safer. I know he is attempting to manoeuvre me into some position, but I do not know what that is, or what he wants. He remains one of the most dangerous threats I have encountered, and it seems that I still need him. I must be more cautious, and I must learn more.

… bitterness on the wind, less pungent that the acidic decay in the black water roiling around me. The Silent is unheard. Lashing tentacles, a host of mouths all over its body. The Thirsty is taking notes.  One eye, larger than the mind can hold. The drow laughs. Eighteen. Teeth, black in black mouth in black water. Twenty-five thousand, two hundred and five point six. The Erratic vows vengeance for a hat. Tentacles snaking around my wrists, tearing my hands free. Blood in black water, laughter like ashes on the wind.

- Again this… dehanding… element surfaces. Two main connotations continue to occur to me. The Tyrran – although there is some confusion, since Tyr is represented with one missing hand, not two, and still called by the epithet ‘the Even-handed’. And, of course, it may also be emblematic of the loss of power, especially when it is my own hands. In any case, it has surfaced often enough to be of concern. Also a point worth noting: this dream marks the first in which all three of the recurring can be clearly identified, and the first in which the drow appears at all. This is disturbing on a number of levels.

Threat Assessment: The drow (4rd revision/6th including Garrod Drake’s entries)

New spell observed: Mass Healing Word. This is definitely indicative. As far as I can remember from my brief study of divine magic, this is solely the province of clerics. This raises three queries. 1) Do I recall correctly? Divine magic is not particularly interesting, and my notes on the subject are long ago destroyed. There might be other disciplines with access to the spell. 2) Did I observe correctly? It might have been some other spells with a similar effect, and I was not particularly close to him. 3) How did he cast it? Scrolls and other enchanted items are only the most obvious ways to cast a spell to which you would ordinarily have no access.

If, however, I do remember and did observe correctly that he cast Mass Healing Word, it strongly suggests that he might have some cleric training. This correlates moderately well with his obvious issues with spiders and his status as a male drow. Lloth despises males and does not permit them among her clergy. He must follow some other deity (as strange a thing that is to speculate about someone so obviously capable in his own right). I cannot seriously imagine him worshipping an idiot goddess of dancing naked in the moonlight, and Eilistraee is the only other member of the Dark Seldarine I recall at present. Of course, he might have chosen the god of some other pantheon entirely to fellate in exchange for power. Mask, perhaps? In any case, while this hypothesis seems sturdy enough to guide my actions, it demands further evidence.

I suspect the others do not truly understand just how dangerous he is. Like myself, he was born into a society of power-hungry individuals, his value only in his use to those above him in power or in what he carved out for himself. Temporary alliances bound for betrayal, an innately dangerous world around him, a certainty of death or something much less pleasant as punishment for mistakes. Like myself, he’s survived so far, which marks him as an individual of cunning, ambition, and cleverness. However, there is one crucial difference: I am a Red Wizard, and, as such, one of the ruling class of Thay. My enemies are, for the most part, roughly my equals in power. The drow, on the other hand, is a male – part of the lowest possible classes in his society, deliberately kept subjugated. He has therefore risen respectively further than I have, has probably maintained his position longer (given drow lifespans in comparison to human) and so, is better at this than I am.

He is also on his own territory here. His advantages cannot be overstated. I wish I had found a means and opportunity to speak to that drow who warned us not to ally, even temporarily, with our guide. I might have learned something of use.

The drow knows my order well enough, probably, to predict my actions – one reason why I decided to try a tactic borrowed from Harper and offer an apology for needling him about the spider corpses. It was not as difficult as I thought it would be, although still I disliked doing it. His reaction was also satisfying, if inconvenient. It is a distinct relief to speak to someone who sees the world as it is, and respects me sufficiently to assume that I have good reasons for what I do.

If the moment were right, I could disable him. At the very least. I occasionally entertain the image of Animating his corpse and forcing it through all sorts of indignities. Pleasant as the thought of the drow grovelling at my feet is, it would probably not be worth antagonising Shay or the chance someone would resurrect it.