Campaign Logs

The Jade Letters

By Beth Griese

Date:   March 15, 1997


Bearded fellow

Supreme Being

Jim Leitzel


Blonde human

Tempus Cleric

Brian Smith

Lorivar Menasson

Short, dark and hairy Monk

Vaughan Herron


Gypsy woman


Beth Griese

Nory Gnome Illusionist/Thief Stu Collins
Telaran 1/2 Elf, Buzz cut fighter Jim Gaynor
Verence Gallow Thin human Mystra Cleric Kent Jenkins

Quote of the Day:
Lord, we were funny this week!
"Wussie!" -- Brian Smith, repeatedly
"Would you like the vegetarian platter?" -- Jim Leitzel
"How recently was the vegetarian killed?" -- Brian Smith
"What's the weapon speed of a tomato stick?" -- Jim Gaynor

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

We spent four days in port at Orlumber. Not surprisingly after the excitement we had seen on our journey, quite a few passengers decided that this port was going to be their final destination. Captain Smallbrush didn't seem too worried, though, and so we made our way to land (gratefully, in some of our cases) to enjoy earth under our feet until we continued to Suzail.

The party spread out for our vacation in Orlumber. Borreau took me to visit the local shrine to Tempus, but we found our reception less than warm. These clerics, it seemed, had placed more value on a church full of worshippers than on battle, a judgement Borreau took them to task for while I shuffled feet in the back of the room. I've heard you spend rounds with other clerics of Mielikki often enough to not be alarmed at the thought of faith brothers in shouting matches.

Verence and Telaran spent their time in interesting duties. They decided there was profit to be made by offering certain healing services to pleasure houses in town. We rarely saw them by the light of day in our time at Orlumber, and when we did, Telaran was usually being insufferably smug in the presence of that first mate woman who had turned him down during the sea voyage.

My own mission for the next four days was clear from the moment I saw the city from the vantage point of the ship. The city had been nestled in the midst of a beautiful forest of strong, healthy trees. Now, a half-mile- wide swath of destruction had laid low every tree around the city, and loggers were busy at work on widening their circle of destruction. I'm afraid I didn't see a great deal of light in those next few days, either; the loggers were spending very bad mornings finding saws missing, equipment broken, and carts missing wheels. I know it did nothing but slow the inevitable, but logger's curses made for pleasant lullabies in the mornings, much to dear Borreau's concern.

The rest of our trip back to Suzail was, praise the Gods, uneventful, with the exception of one dragon we saw from a distance who was winging his way across the ocean. The sight of the massive beast struck me completely still, and Borreau and I watched in silence from the railing. The same cannot be said for many of the passengers and crew, and not for Nory, who dove under the mainmast and made a smaller bundle of himself than I would have thought possible, even for a gnome. The power of a dragon's presence, even from a distance, is nothing to be taken lightly.

At last, we arrived at Suzail. Familiar ground again! The Wayfarers immediately set off for the Adventurer's Club. Lorivar, the strange fighter who had joined us against the Morkoth, came with us. He was interested in joining our group, and seeing as how we were down a man now without B'rinth, we agreed to discuss it over dinner. We ate a pleasant meal at the club and spoke with Lorivar, who called himself a "warrior philosopher," about adventuring.

Lorivar was reluctant to talk about many personal details, but it may be for good reason. After some prodding, he told me that he comes from Tethiir. I don't think the name meant much to the others, but I remember well your stories about the constant political purges that go on there. My guess is that he must be a refugee, maybe even a nobleman by his bearing. But even the spells of Verence and Borreau showed that all he spoke was true, and that his purpose was virtuous and good. He and Telaran made an impressive show for the club by sparring in the courtyard, and though Telaran won the match, it was by a hair's breadth, and there was no denying that the newcomer could stand his own in a fight. So without much debate needed, Lorivar has been taken into our group. Verence and Lorivar visited the castle's records hall the next day to have B'rinth removed from the Wayfarer's charter and Lorivar added to it.

We had arrived in town at a pleasant time. The king's coronation anniversary was the next day, and to celebrate, a fair was being held. The entire group headed down to the quarter that was hosting the events, and we enjoyed wandering tents of trinkets to sell and eating delicious foods. Contests were held, too, and of course most of us couldn't resist the temptation to participate.

The first contest was quarterstaffs. Lorivar and Verence both signed up. Verence used the staff he usually casts spells on to battle for him, although he did a more than fair job handling the stick himself. He's nicknamed the staff Trellant, after my horse, and I'm not sure whether it's a compliment to Trellant or another one of his veiled jibes at me. The rest of cheered as loud as we could for both our Wayfarers, and to our delight, the final match was between Verence and Lorivar for the trophy. They were battling on a log above a pit of muddy water, so everyone's spirits were high was Lorivar and Verence squared off and traded their best parries and blows. In the end, the quick warrior philosopher managed to knock Verence off the log and into the water. Lorivar got the trophy, Verence got very wet, and I lost a gold piece to Nory on the outcome.

The next contest in the morning was an archery contest. Telaran and I both joined the roster, and I had high hopes that I might make a decent showing. My first shot struck home on the bullseye, too, but the other two shots did not fare so well, and neither of us made it past the first round. Suzail sees some fine, fine shooters, and the man who finally won struck as fair a shot as I've ever seen. I spoke with him afterwards, and found that he is indeed a woodsman ranger like myself. His name was Sal, and I asked him if he might be willing to train me in the bow use he showed when next I had the time in town for the lessons, and he didn't turn me down immediately. Hopefully I'll have a source of some good lessons when next I need them.

The afternoon competition that caught our attention was horse-riding. Borreau, Verence, Telaran, I, and even Nory signed up for this match. I was disappointed that I wouldn't get to ride Trellant, but I gave the courses they set up my best shot. Nory fell off his horse in the first round, and though I did very well in my first attempt, I also hit the dirt my second time through; the horse had other ideas than the water pit I wanted him to jump. Borreau and Verence both made it to the final rounds, and Borreau's riding put more pride in me than I would have imagined I could feel. The final course, though, was the end for both of them, and a noblewoman won the trophy with an amazing run through the obstacles.

The day was wearing on as we all wandered our way through the fair for a final time, most of us dusty, some of us bruised, but everyone in as fine a mood as I've seen us. We passed an illusionist's house of fun, and with Nory's excitement, we all decided to enjoy the shows of the spooky maze within. As we paid for our entrance, the barker recognized Telaran and I. What a strange thing, to be recognized by name by a total stranger! We nodded through his excitement as best we could, and quickly escaped into the funhouse. After the predictable darkness of the first room, we found ourselves in a dungeon hallway, with a sign hanging from the ceiling at the end of it.

The sign read, "Wayfarers: This is the first installment." My stomach did a turn as I wondered how a public funhouse could make a sign specifically for us, when Nory, who had been looking all around us like a shocked tourist, announced without a doubt that the hallway we were in was no illusion. I thought grimly of the barker's loud and pointed recognition of us, and was grateful that I had brought my sword along to such a peaceful event as a fair. I'll continue my story in my next message,

Your faithful servant,


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