Tatalia's Journal's page

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About Tatalia's Journal

Journal Entry 1 - 29 Abadius, 4717 AR:
My name is Tatalia, and I am a paladin in the service of Sarenrae the Redeemer. I hail from the House of the Dawnflower, a small monastery along the Chelexia-Andoran border. If I should be found dead, please bring this journal to the priests there, and let them know of my passing.

It is 29 Abadius, 4717 AR, only a few days since my tutor, the hero Connac Aevell, was sent to the gates of Elysium by the hand of an assassin. Upon his death he bade me to find the other members of the Band of the Black Banner and reunite them. I will find them, the Black Banner, and Master Aevell's killer. This I have sworn to do before Sarenrae by my teacher's sword.

I write this upon the deck of a ship, the Slippery Elm. Its captain is a strange man, though I'll write more on him later. He prefers to wear plain clothes and has a hat he wrings when nervous. I suppose I ought to write about how I came to be on his ship...

Yesterday, the 28th of Abadius, I was attending the funeral of Connac Aevell. It was a nice affair. I would argue it seemed too nice: the weather was too gentle, the people were all smiling - I wondered if they remembered they were mourning the death of a great man. Goddess forgive me, but I felt an anger then that I could not show.

At the end of the funeral a woman approached me, an elf who claims to be from Darkmoon Vale. She calls herself Bronwen, and she asked me what Connac had told me in his final moments. I answered, and though she seemed to be disappointed with my answer, Bronwen nevertheless has chosen to accompany me as I try to find his killer and the rest of the Band.

Together, we went to Connac's home in search of answers, hoping to find some clue about his attacker or about the location of the rest of the Band. What we discovered was a secret passage beneath his home, and after working past some enchantments and fighting what I believe was some sort of elemental or construct made from mud, we found a hidden study. There we found some of the information we were looking for in a last message from Connac to me. Who the killer was we still don't know, but Westcrown became our obvious next destination.

We each left Connac's manor to rest afterwards. In the morning I was approached by Mr. Luke Crowel, the man on whose ship I am writing in now. I've described him a little already. I think he may be more than he appears at first glance: more cunning, more bold, and perhaps more important than some may realize. I don't wish to say more for fear of causing him harm should this journal be found, but suffice it to say that I find myself asking questions when I think about him. He seems to have a deep respect for old Aevell, and I think we'll get along. But I do wonder.

I have yet to familiarize myself with anyone in his crew. I hope that will change.

As for Bronwen, I think that I can trust her, though I wouldn't call her a friend yet. That is, there's a part of me that thinks there is information she doesn't want to share with me, but I think she would keep me informed of anything she felt was vital to our mission. I don't think she likes me very much, though. I am a child to her, and one that has been given the mission she wanted for herself. Had she been the one Connac had spoken to, I have no doubts Bronwen would have excluded me from this task; I am at once too much like Connac and too little like him for her tastes. I suppose I can only hope to grow on her like some kind of mold.

I wonder how she knew Connac really, though. Bronwen helped him on more than one adventure, that much seems clear - but when? Was it before he started the Band of the Black Banner? Was she an adventuring partner once? A rival? A lover? I think she will tell me what she wishes to in her own time.

In any event, this adventure is just starting. The ship is leaving port, and I can feel the waves rushing around me. I think I will go see what the ocean looks like from aboard a ship.

Journal Entry 2 - 31 Abadius, 4717 AR:
After overhearing the captain and Jaerl - that interesting looking half-elf with the keen mind - discuss the matter of some missing supplies, I offered to investigate the matter for them. After learning from Trilla, one of the younger sailors, that he'd heard noises in the cargo hold, I decided the best course of action was simply to search there.

The good news is I found the source of the problem quickly, and there won't be any more unaccounted for supplies being lost. The bad news is the thief was a boy named Farnell, perhaps nine years old at most, that shouldn't be aboard this ship. What's worse, I am to blame for his presence.

The boy did something I might have done as a child: he smelled adventure, and so he crept aboard the ship to seek it, having heard that I would be going on a quest myself. So here we are, three days out at sea, and the good captain has regretfully told me that we can't turn back and return the boy home now. I am troubled.

For now, I'll simply do my best to take care of the boy and learn more about him. Farnell seems a bold youth to be sure, but whether that boldness comes from a desire to escape home or from not having a home to begin with I cannot say. Could he be an orphan as I am? I will learn when next I speak with him.

I may be able to convince the captain to sail back to Andoran after delivering me to my destination if I can offer him a substantial enough sum for his time. I have no such sum on me, but my armor is of mithral make, and it would fetch at least two thousand gold coins on the market. I am loathe to part with it, but if no other source of income presents itself before then, I may be forced to make that trade so as to buy the boy passage home...

I'll speak with Bronwen on the matter later. She seems wiser than I, and she knows the captain better than I do, I think. I'll have to force her away from her work in the morrow.

Journal Entry 3 - 31 Abadius, 4717 AR:
A day has not passed since my last record. The moon is high in the sky. I am tired and ill at ease.

Pirates came upon us this evening. Luek told me he knew their captain, a man named Rajeer, and he spoke truly: the pirates offered our crew a chance to surrender the captain and our valuables, then attacked when we did not comply. And though then I feared for my life and those of the others aboard this ship, I feel shame for having fought as ferociously as I did.

The pirates were beaten and captured, and it was largely because of my skill with a sword. Looking back, I must have seemed like a wild animal in those first few seconds. I slew the first man I came across with a quick slash of my sword. I slew a man. And the truth is, he was the only person to be slain in that whole affair. I alone took a life from someone in that battle. I feel... sick. I know I could not have hidden it very well. I feel sick in my stomach and sick with myself.

After I forced a surrender out of their captain and his crew, I learned that this Rajeer - he is a dwarf, and having met dwarves only twice before in my life, I do not know if I should call him strange or not - was owed a great debt by Captain Luek. His brother had been lost while aboard Luek's vessel, and Luek had fled with a large sum of money rather than give Rajeer the news in person.

I have secured a peace between them, though neither party is happy with it. I wonder how long it will last. Rajeer's ship will be sold as spoils of Luek's crew, and from that gold will Rajeer's debt be paid. The pirates will be freed and given compensation, or so the plan goes. I have worries on the matter. It would exhaust me entirely to pen them all.

Then there is the matter of the boy. While I am certain that Captain Luek is grateful to still be alive and that none of his crew were harmed, he is already doing a great deal at my behest by not simply executing Rajeer. He is a good man, but a willful one, and will not take kindly should I ask that he deliver Farnell to Andoran for me as a favor. I hate to do this, but perhaps it is best for the time being to allow the boy to follow me. It seems a foolish thought... but I'd rather make sure either I can take him home personally or that I can entrust his passage to someone trustworthy. But I have no coin to purchase that passage with.

I cannot ascertain whether Bronwen respects me or believes me to be a child. Perhaps it is both? She could certainly be old enough to be my mother a few times over, timeless as elves are. I think... while Bronwen has chosen to follow me, she does not see me as her leader. Yet at the same time, she looks to see how I will act in the face of our challenges, as if to test me, to see what sort of person I am. The only advice she consistently offers is to focus on our objective and ignore anything that comes between that.

And then there is the matter of entering Westcrown. Rightly, Bronwen has reminded me that halflings cannot roam freely there. Yet the only alternative that comes to mind is feigning servitude - and I am no liar! Nor am I a slave! But the more I ponder it, the more I come to the conclusion that I may have to garb myself as one if I wish to pursue this goal.

I am uncertain as to ... I do not fear - No, I am afraid. I have to admit that. I will steel myself for whatever I must do to enter the city, but I must recognize my own fear to overcome it, and I must find a way to do this within the bounds of my code.

I wish Connac were here. What would you do, old fart? And what would Sarenrae have me do? May her morning light bring answers, for I am in sore need of them.