Campaign Logs

The Jade Letters

By Beth Griese

Date:   June 8, 1996


Bearded fellow

Supreme Being

Jim Leitzel


Blonde human

Tempus Cleric

Brian Smith

B'rinth L'rea

Gold Elf


Vaughan Herron


Gypsy woman


Beth Griese


1/2 Elf, Scruffy Beard


Jim Gaynor

Quote of the Day:
None. Nobody spoke for the entire night. Really, honest!

To Garen Thundersson, cleric of Mielikki. From your faithful servant, Jade.

After regaining our wind at Weston's castle, now The Wayfarers' property, we hiked back across the mountains to retrieve our horses. Everyone was worried about our mounts after such a long time, and as it turned out, with good reason. We reached the clearing near the entrance to Cloud Tower only to find bodies and scattered remnants of leads. Just as my heart had sunk to around the area of my knees, I saw Trellant's form moving in the brush next to the trees. He was, apparently, the sole survivor, praise Mielikki. Trellant deserves the most pampered stabling I can offer him for around a fortnight.

We all began the long walk to Espar, the nearest city we could find on Telaran's map of the region. During our first night in camp, poor weak Trellant began panicking, which was our best warning as hideous green, mottled creatures burst from the brush. There was no doubt these tall, spindly, horrid beasts must be trolls. Their claws were vicious, as I and Telaran quickly found out. B'rinth, praise the stars, caught up two of them in a web, and promptly applied fire, their worst enemy. We were left to battle it out with the other, and the two who were on fire were still trying to claw their way through at us. It was like a nightmare, and by the end of the battle, Borreau had also fallen, and I was never so unsure that my legs would stay under me. I had slipped into a grim determination to take the trolls' lifeblood with my own, when the firebrands consumed the last of the trolls, and they stilled for good.

It took us two weeks of foot travel to reach Espar, mostly because of our slow beginning as we all healed from our troll wounds. We finally reached the city of Espar, stumbled in exhaustion to the single inn, anxious for warm baths and soft beds, but the innkeeper took one look at us and asked for a nightly sum that was five times what we'd pay in a fine inn in Arabel, let alone a motley collection of buildings like this town. The whole party was disappointed and infuriated, of course. I left without discussion; Borreau came with me, and Telaran followed before long. I helped us all find good rest in the forest outskirts that night that beat anything that ridiculous inn would have offered, anyway. The rest paid their fees or made their deals as best they could, although when we returned in the morning, we found that the inn had been covered in mud graffiti that questioned the integrity of the innkeeper. The party beat a hasty retreat with angelic faces, and even I'm not sure which of us made the assault on the wall, although I'm sure it must be one of us. Nory was sounding very convincing in his protestations that he was not to blame. And the graffiti did reach awfully high for a gnome.

Espar did, at least, give us the opportunity to get some additional supplies and mounts, and I bought some high quality feed for my poor recovering Trellant. Thus restocked, we travelled onward to the city of Tyrluk, our next stop on the way back to fine Arabel.

In Tyrluk, we happened on a noblewoman (or, more accurately, she happened on us) named Lady Sharyn, who was also headed for Arabel. She took one look at our well-used armament and offered us pay for escorting her safely to the city. It's amazing how readily people will take advantage of the appearance of an adventuring party; apparently, survival is quite a recommending trait. We agreed, and thus rode alongside the lady's covered wagon through our old home of Eveningstar on our way to Arabel. I longed to visit home, master, but duty called me to stay at the Lonesome Tankard inn for the first time in my life.

Only one momentous event happened to us while we continued to Arabel. Telaran was riding point, some distance ahead of us on the road, when he found a vine lying across the thoroughfare. When he dismounted to examine it, he was shot by crossbow bolts of sleep poison and downed. The rest of us might have walked into the same trap, too, had Telaran's dragon lizard, Kaz, not flown back to us, obviously agitated. I spurred ahead, the rest of the party stayed with the carriage. I found Telaran's horse easily enough, but Telaran had been dragged to the side of the road and into the thick undergrowth. He was nowhere to be seen.

I pray that what I did next was within the best bounds of wisdom, Garen, and perhaps someday you'll tell me whether it was. I was already half- expecting the call of the brigands who had Telaran even as they shouted, demanding all my money and his. I decided, though, that allowing them to hold all the advantage wasn't in our best interest, and so I finished stringing my bow, nocked the arrow full force, and centered it on the bush that held the voice. I figured a show of force might be impressive and demanded to see Telaran. His unconscious body was propped up, along with a knife that threatened his life. We shouted back and forth for a few minutes, and it ended with the scampering away of the cutpurses with all of Telaran's money, but not a drop of his blood. Telaran later bemoaned the lost funds, but I think he was more pleased to realize he was alive when he woke up.

So, with only that mishap along the way, we reached Arabel and returned to the Murdered Manticore. It was time for our treasures from the mountains to be divided and, for many of us, time to restore our connections with our own people and get some training. I, though, was only watching the sun's position; it was less than a fortnight until Midwinter's Day, when you promised to return to our home in Eveningstar. And so, feeling inexplicably like a ten-year-old, I asked Borreau to accompany me back to our home and to meet you. He not only agreed, he hired a fine carriage to take us back to our mutual hometown in style and, I confess, not a small amount of romance.

You know the next few days as well as I, master, but I'm going to write my thoughts on them anyway, since you've asked me to continue my reports, and I don't want to be incomplete. Borreau and I reached the woodland home with a day or two to spare in restocking the house, making repairs, and outfitting home for your return. You arrived the day before Midwinter's Day, and the sight of your face, even if you had grown that wild beard, was the most welcome I may ever see. I was surprised by your elven companion, Soorathea, but she seems a noble and good woman, master, and I hope your adventures together continue.

It was strange, after so long, to finally receive word of the place you had been imprisoned in for so long . It made me glad for every moment of work Borreau and I had put into preparing the home for your welcome. And if I ever, in my travels, run across Zastam, the Zolkeer of Necromancy in Thay, I swear I will remember well the debt you owe him.

Midwinter's Day was as glorious as ever we shared, master. The fireworks magic Soorathea brought was quite a hit with the townspeople. Our date is settled to meet again come Midsummer's Day, Mielikki's next holy of days. Wherever I find myself in the Realms come that time, I will return here. Perhaps next time you'll get the chance to meet the rest of the Wayfarers, too.

I was grateful for your blessing on my adventures with the Wayfarers. It would have been so hard to leave them behind if you had so ordered it, and if you had ordered an end to Borreau's presence... well, praise Mielikki he meets with your approval, too. I still feel confused, though, when you refuse any part of my ownership in the castle, and when Borreau asked your permission to pursue a longer-lasting relationship with me, I thought my ears were burning badly enough to melt me into the ground beneath our feet. Borreau has a high sense of propriety, master, and your approval meant a lot to him. I thank you for that kindness, even if I'm still not sure now exactly where - or with who - I belong.

Borreau still has training to seek in Arabel, and I mean to spend some time under the stars and among the trees after all that time below ground. And so we leave Eveningstar and home yet again, and return to Arabel. I look forward to Midsummer's return, and anticipate what new stories we'll have to tell each other at that time. Until that day, I remain, as always...

Your faithful servant,


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