Excerpted from the journal of Etaf Gerin
March 7, 1377 (The Year of the Haunting)
Dreiw is alive and well! After
a few days hard travel, we arrived back at our keep to find both
March 14, 1377
It seems a week is about all
the rest my companions can take. Ahmed has already left, saying only that his
master still has much to teach him, and that he will return. Helios and Francis
make regular trips to nearby monasteries and temples, donating time and wealth
to benefit their brethren and the poor. BadAxe has
joined the dwarves working to remodel our keep, happily practicing the
stone-craft she learned in from her father. Omiata disappeared two days ago, as
usual with no warning or word of when he will return.
As for me, I have resumed my
studies. Much was lost when my spellbook and other
equipment was destroyed. Now, however, I have assistance – Dreiw was as much a
student of Saert as I was. I was always the better
magical student, but her psionic abilities are as strong as mine – perhaps even
stronger. Between us, I feel confident that we can regain all that I lost and
more.
May 13, 1377
Omiata returned today. He did
not look well, and spoke only a little before retiring to his room.
June 1, 1377
Dreiw discovered something
extremely interesting today. She had been reading an old tome, which I honestly
had forgotten I even owned, when she found a reference to the recovery of lost
knowledge. With a little work, this information could be turned into a spell to
restore all the knowledge I lost in Oahbe’s tomb! I have already recovered the
most important information, thanks to our hard work of the past weeks, but by
no means all. This could be a must easier way to restore everything!
June 12, 1377
We’ve all been concerned for
Omiata ever since his return last month, but all our attempts to draw him out
have failed. Today, he came to me, asking for my help. He still does not look
well, almost like a man who has not slept for weeks – but of course elves do
not sleep. We sat at a table in my workroom and I asked what I could do to
assist.
Omiata looked at me with
bloodshot eyes. “I haven’t been able to properly meditate for weeks. To my
people, meditation is as important as sleep is to yours, as you know. I thought
it was just imagination at first, but it never goes away. Every time I try, I
hear it whispering in my mind.”
I looked at him with no little
confusion. “It? What do you mean?”
His hand moved so swiftly that
I started back from the table. Webweaver, the short sword we had found months
ago in this very keep, was suddenly standing in the center of the wooden table,
quivering. I had rarely seen this blade since Omiata took possession of it, and
he had never spoken of it before. All I knew of it was that it was magical –
the rogue had used it to cast webs and summon small spiders during our
adventures.
“The sword? It speaks to you?” I suddenly understood while Omiata had
brought this to me. He believed he was the target of some kind of mental
assault or curse – and who better than the psionic wizard to explain it?
His next words confirmed my
thought. “You know the power of the mind. I want you to tell me what this…thing…is
doing to me.” His eyes unfocused, as if staring beyond the
walls of the room. “I can hear the voices all the time now. Her power, they say. She waits and She watches and Serve her.
You must find out what is happening.”
June 15, 1377
After three days of careful
study, with Dreiw to watch me and anchor my mind against any assault, I believe
I have discovered what the sword Webweaver is. I called Omiata back to my
workroom. The sword still stood in the table where he had placed it.
“There is no easy way to say
this, so I will be blunt.” I forced myself to meet his gaze. “This is an
artifact of a very powerful entity in the service of Lolth, the Queen of
Spiders. It may even have direct ties to Lolth herself. It channels some of her
power to anyone that wields it.”
Omiata absorbed this without
flinching, and it seemed to me with no surprise. Perhaps he already knew and
wished only confirmation. “So, it is unredeemably evil, then?”
“Not of
itself, no.” I looked at the blade,
reflections glinting from the blade. “The blade has a life of its own. It may
channel the power of the Spider Queen, but it is not itself evil. It is known
to other evil entities that use that same power, though. Through it, though,
your mind is open to others that access that same power.” Omiata opened his
mouth, but I help up my hand to forestall him. “This, though, we can remedy.”
I rose and went to the door,
calling Dreiw in to join us. We came to stand near the rogue. “We can forge a
link in your mind to the sword, a link so strong that no one will be able to
break into it. You will no longer need to fear the assault of others through
the power of the sword. The sword will be free of them.”
Omiata peered suspiciously at
the two of us. “It can’t be that simple.”
“Told you.” Dreiw smirked at me, then turned back to the elf. “I
told him that that you’d know there was a catch. You will be so tightly bound
to this sword that it will become part of you. No longer will you be able to
use any other weapon, of any kind. You may even find yourself thinking
differently, as your mind and the intelligence of the sword are bonded. And
once this is done, no power within our knowledge can undo it.”
“Your other choice,” I said,
“is to give up the sword. We can also break the bond that has formed so far.
You will have to destroy the sword, or at least send it far away, forever out
of your reach.”
Omiata stared at the sword in
the table. “Ever since I found this sword,” he murmured, “it has felt like a
part of me. Until these whispers started, it was the best weapon I’ve ever
owned. It even spoke to me, almost as a friend.” We waited, knowing that he was
making a decision that would affect his very thoughts.
After several minutes, he
looked up at us. “This sword is alive, more than just a powerful weapon. If by
bonding to it I can keep both of us free of the evil influences, I will do it.”
As I had
expected. “Very well, then. We will
prepare tomorrow, and the next day it will be done.”
June 17, 1377
Preparations truly took very little
time, but I wanted to give Omiata a chance to think over his decision. He
remained convinced that this was the right decision, though, so in the light of
early morning the three of us gathered around the sword in my workroom. To
anyone that had seen us, we must have appeared strange – two humans and an elf,
hands joined in a circle around a sword stuck in a wooden table.
But appearances can be
deceiving. In our minds, much was happening. Dreiw and I poured our mental
energies into the bond that had already formed between Webweaver and Omiata. I
must admit that my sister did most of the work – my gifts mostly applied to
outward manifestation of powers, while she was more adept at manipulation of
the mind itself. I kept a wary mental eye on the bonds of Webweaver’s power
throughout the process, alert for any sign that evil powers would attempt to
disrupt us. But none did, and soon the deed was done.
“I don’t feel any different.”
Omiata frowned as he hefted Webweaver after we had finished. “The voices are
gone, certainly, but that was true as soon as you started this ritual. Are you
certain they’re gone for good?”
“Only time will tell,” I said.
“I can see the power bonding your mind and the sword. Other presences are still
present, but they no longer have power to enter your mind.”
“Very well.” The rogue grinned, and for the first time since before
we entered Oahbe’s tomb, he looked like the Omiata that I’d met on the Haptooth more
than a year ago. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my sword and I have some catching up
to do.”
“Suppose we did the right
thing, big brother?” Dreiw sounded worried as we returned to work after Omiata
left. No surprise, I was concerned myself.
“As I said, only time will
tell. But I do know one thing for sure.” I looked up from my tome and held Dreiw’s gaze. “We helped a friend, a friend that risked
everything to help us in the past. That
is the right thing, I am sure.”
June 23, 1377
Francis and Helios returned
today from one of their trips, this time assisting a group of pilgrims to a
nearby
July 15, 1377
Ahmed returned today. He spoke
little of his own travels, as usual, saying only that he had learned once again
that the scimitar is the weapon of his people.
Dreiw and I believe the spell
of recovery is finished. However, we’re missing one key ingredient – a drug
called bloodroot. It is not commonly available, and we know of no way to
magically conjure it. I believe our best chance to find it will be in
Waterdeep, which can be access via the portal we have to the dwarven guild.
When I go to Francis’ meeting, I will attempt to procure some.
July 29, 1377
As the time approaches to
leave for Waterdeep, I find myself arguing with Dreiw constantly. She is
convinced that she should come with us, to help with whatever the Order of
Aster asks of Francis. Honestly, she’s probably right. But I can’t bring myself
to let her risk her life. I know all to well the risks that my friends and I
take in our adventuring. I risk myself for the sake of my companions, out of
friendship and to repay the debt I owe for what they did to help me. But I
cannot bring myself to allow Dreiw to risk herself.
Last updated 03-22-2006 by Skip Franklin