Amnesia

Autumn's Log

By Autumn
Date unknown

After swiftly dodging the giants in the field, Saturly lead our group to his Lord’s abode. When we finally arrived, we were in awe as we looked upon the magnificence of the structure in front of us. The best description I could come up with to describe is to say it looked like some sort of log cabin, but I’ve never seen one so large. The cabin was truly majestic with so many beautiful sculptures worked in the walls and columns… I don’t know about the others, but for me, I won’t soon forget all the beauty and the wonder I’ve seen in our short time in the Feywild.

Once we passed the threshold of the main gates, it appeared like the cabin was at least a few hundred feet long. In what appeared to be the centre of the cabin was a very large stone fire place. There were so many fey and they were all celebrating and very festive. It was as though they were celebrating some great event. Perhaps they were celebrating the Fey`s home coming. The folk sang songs and played musical instruments… There was even a lot of fornication going on… This joyous atmosphere certainly helped us ease our worries, because none knew what exactly we were walking into.

We were urged to continue following Saturly until we finally reached two large wooden thrones located on an elevated platform… On one of them sat a very tall and muscular humanoid with a pair of mighty horns on his forehead, and wore only a loin cloth. On the adjacent throne sat his wife, the Crone. Saturly graciously introduced us to them.

The Lord of the house gave us a very warm welcome and was clearly very happy to set his gaze once more upon the Fey, his god daughter. The Lord explained to us that he did not become the Fey’s god father by traditional means. Instead, she came into the Lord’s life because her father beseeched the Lord to place the Fey under his protection from her mother. In fact, for some reason that remains a mystery to us, the Fey’s mother hated her daughter to the point of wanting to kill her. Given the Lord’s benevolence, he would accept the Fey as his protected ward, but for a price. The price ultimately was a major sacrifice on the Fey’s father’s part, which was to surrender to the Lord all the love he had for his daughter. Fearing for his daughter’s life at the hands of his wife, he accepted the terms.

The Lord upheld his end of the bargain by making the Fey his protected ward through a ritual, thus making the Fey his god child and forever protecting her from her mother. The ritual must have created a mystical link between the two, because as a result, the Fey learned to manifest her powers by tapping into this link, thus using the Lord’s life force to empower her rituals. To make matters worse, as the Fey learned more powerful rituals, she would use the Lord’s life force even more. Obviously this unanticipated side effect was not part of the original deal and the Lord wanted to rectify the situation quickly, which is why Saturly was sent to retrieve the Fey by any means necessary.

Obviously the Lord was certainly not helpless in the matter and if he really wanted to, I’m certain he had the power to cut the link with his god daughter in order to preserve his life force. However, in doing so, I suspect that the Lord would be breaking the deal he made with the Fey’s father, and in doing so, the Fey would no longer be protected from her mother. The Lord clearly takes his role as god father to heart and was certainly open to allowing her to continue tapping into his life force, but like her father, the Lord told the Fey that if she wished to continue using her god father as a conduit for her powers, thus sacrificing a part of himself to the Fey, the Lord would require the same of his god daughter and required her to offer him a sacrifice of her own.

It was clear that the Lord was not interested in a material compensation, such as a magical item or gold. He is immortal, and in particular is also a very powerful and supernatural being. Therefore, objects that are commonly valued by us mortals have little or no value to the Lord. He wanted something special from the Fey… This would require a major personal sacrifice from the Fey.

The Fey struggled long and hard and did not have any clue on what she could possibly sacrifice. The Lord`s wife, the Crone, offered the Fey some guidance and suggested to the Fey to stop thinking like a mortal. This continued on for the better part of 2 hours.

During the Fey`s contemplations, the rest of us continued chatting with the Lord and the Crone. One of our conversations related to the life of the pre-amnesia Fey. Unfortunately for the Healer, who is desperate to find out who he really is, the Fey refused to have any such information divulged to her in fear that whatever she would discover would inadvertently change the person she is now. The Lord respected her wishes and refused to answer any further question that would even hint on the details of her previous life, even questions that would reveal indirect details. The Healer had difficulty in containing his anger and frustrations.

However, that did not sway the Healer’s resolve in obtaining information about his own past… He insistently pressed on with more questions. Seeing the desperateness in the Healer`s questioning, the Crone took pity on him and agreed to answer any one question we each had. The Guardian asked for the city name that seemingly is important to his own past, and the Healer wanted to know what his pre-amnesia name was. Now that he has it, maybe it will give him some respite for now. As for myself, I was hard pressed to come up with a question on the spot.

In order to further lighten the mood, the Lord was gracious and generous enough to present to the Forgotten gifts as tribute and appreciation for providing support, camaraderie and protection to his god daughter. To the Healer, a magical block of ice containing the maps of the underworld was gifted, and to the Guardian, a unique pair of boots capable of invigorating his charge attacks was offered. As for me, seemingly not a member of the Forgotten, was left out in the cold. However, the Lord did proposition me to make love to him…

As a druid, I know a lot about Nature and from what I was able to gather about the Lord is that he is indeed a paragon of Nature in this realm. It is like having a Goddess offering herself to a cleric who worships her… What would the cleric do? It was the same for me. Just the mere words he spoke to me made me tremble… I accepted his offer, and I doubt I shall ever experience anything like that ever again. I know that this world has such horrific atrocities, but then something like this happens, and it becomes clear as day that the opposite is also true… I was given a glimpse of what pure bliss feels like, and I can only hope to experience it again in the afterlife.

Upon recomposing myself, I rejoined the group and I was pleased to find out that the Fey had finally come up with an offering for her god father. She offered her first love… The Fey did not elaborate on her wording and her phrasing certainly lead to different interpretations. In the Fey`s perspective, she meant that she was offering the love she would feel for her first love, much like how her father gave up his love for her, but the Lord interpreted her offering literally. In other words, his perception was that the Fey would have to convince her first love to freely turn himself/herself over to her god father. The Lord smiled and agreed to his interpretation of the Fey`s wording, but with an additional stipulation… She would have only one moon cycle to convince her first love to turn himself/herself over. The Fey agreed to the terms and the bargain was finally struck. The Lord was clearly happy with the agreement and the Fey is now free to continue using her powers, which are channelled through her god father. As a measure to further sweeten the deal they had just struck, the Lord also permanently bestowed his boon on the Fey.

We rested for a short while, and did our share of drinking, laughing, and celebrating. We each had different reasons to celebrate, but one common thing we all shared was that it allowed us to temporarily forget the hardships we had recently lived through. However, reality eventually caught up to us, even in the Feywild, and it was time for us to depart to continue our travels. We do have many things to do and as some would say, there will be plenty of time to rest when we retire, or when we are dead. The Lord and Crone, who had just transformed into the Maiden, wished us luck on our travels and future adventures, and bade us farewell. The surroundings of the log cabin, as well as the surrounding folk quickly blurred into nothingness and was replaced by a seemingly empty, dark and damp throne room completely made of stone. I’m sure the Guardian felt at home! I presume that we were teleported from the Feywild to our own realm.

Before we could gain our bearings, we were startled to hear from the shadows ‘’HOW DARE YOU?!’’ It did not take long to find out whom or what was barking those menacing words to us… It was a Beholder. Even before we could react, four ghost-like figures came out from behind of the thrones and assaulted us.

The Guardian managed to charge the vile Beholder before the ghosts reached our position, and the Healer conjured his most powerful power to provide us with resistive powers… The Fey and I did what we could to take care of the Beholder`s minions. Little did we know what the abomination had in store for us… The Beholder attacked us with a gaze attack that affected everyone except me. It did not do any physical harm, but its effect was devastating nonetheless… In fact, the Guardian, Fey and Healer were all stunned. Their mundane tasks now required intense concentration… For example, all the Healer could do was sustain his divine power. Meanwhile the ghosts continued their assault and landed devastating hits within our ranks.

The Beholder pressed its attack with yet another gaze effect. This one affected me… My mind became fuzzy and I could swear the Fey was a ghost, so I swung at her. I hit the Fey squarely in the forehead, but luckily for her, my melee attacks are not the strongest… The Guardian was also affected, but he had me in his sights and took a swing at my head. I managed to duck out of the way… Surely the gaze must have dulled the dominated dwarf’s aim because all he managed to do was mess up my hair from the wind his hammer produced as it swung over my head. Looking over at the Fey to see if she needed support, and to admittedly gloat to her that the Guardian missed me, I saw the rage in her face as she was targeting me with her own ritual… I caught another taste of the Lord’s essence, but this one was the painful kind! I realized that she too fell victim to the domination effect and her sights landed on me. The Fey’s magical gestures did not fault her, as her bolt found its target…

To add insult to injury, the Beholder pressed its attack against me and managed to land a critical hit… The blow almost knocked the wind out of me… I stood my ground and tried to forget about the pain. I realized that the ghosts provided some enhancement synergy to the Beholder`s attacks, and I assumed that the Guardian could take care of the Beholder for the time being. So I decided to concentrate my efforts in eliminating the ghosts. I conjured a ritual of my own, and managed to kill two of the four spectres. Unfortunately one was unaffected by my ritual, while the fourth was outside the effect of my power. As I stood there panting and relishing the thrill of taking out the ghosts, I made a critical mistake… I forgot to activate an innate healing power that would have imbued regeneration abilities in me… My body was aching, and I could swear that nearly every bone in my body was broken… It was if it was my shear will that was keeping me conscience. My sight was blurry from my own blood dripping from my brow, and as I looked around the battle scene, it was like the cries coming out of my friends were distorted and my eye sight was failing… Everything around me wasmgetting dimmer and dimmer… All I could see were shades of grey. I could feel the life slipping away from me…

As I turned my head towards the Healer, I was horrified to see that he too was in bad shape. He was being assaulted relentlessly from every direction, including from his dominated friends… He couldn’t even counter attack due to being continuously stunned by the Beholder`s gaze attacks… Even his mighty Morning Glory wasn’t enough to keep him standing as the last blow he could bare struck him down. He dropped to his knees… I remember the blank look in his face before he keeled over. I’ll never forget the thud I heard as his skull hit the stone floor…

The next thing I remember is feeling another sharp pain, but in my back this time… I knew it would not be long now… As I fell to my knees, I could no longer hear the battle that was raging around me… All I could hear was a woman softly calling my name… ‘’Autumn’’… ‘’Autumn’’… I looked over and I could swear I saw a shimmering woman standing in the distance, looking upon me and smiling. It seemed like she was waiting for me, perhaps as a guide to the afterlife… Although I did not recognize the woman that was before me, I instinctively called out “mother”… Then everything went dark…

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Travelling in the Grass

By the DM
Date unknown

“Honestly, considering how hard you fought, I’m surprised you don’t have anything to add, but all the better. Come on.”

Saturly sniffs the air and sets off in a direction best described as random. He and his cronies seem little concerned with the group. Occasionally, he stops, plays a few notes, listens for an answer you never hear and adjusts his heading. It is difficult to tell the passage of time as the group as kept to the tallest grass and the sun hasn’t moved an inch in the sky. Eventually, as you start to get tired, the satyr offers you some of the same sweet sparkly liquid which woke the Fey from her stupor. He recommends that you take off your boots and walk directly on the ground. Those that do start feeling a certain energy come up through their legs helping them walk for longer periods.

Eventually, Saturly, ahead of the group, drops to the ground and lets out a lilting epithet. He comes back and discusses something with the firbolgs in sylvan.

“Well, it looks like the summer queens know we’re here. The troops here, he says pointing to the giants, will distract her vassals while the rest of us slip by. On my mark, you follow me and, whatever you do, focus on the music.”

The ball is in your court.

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A Walk on the (Fey) Wild Side

By the DM
7th Flamerule, 1479

As the group steps through the mirror, the Forgotten are disappointed to find that absolutely nothing out of the ordinary happens. They are in fact on the same rolling green hills where they fought firbolg and satyr. At most, the strange intensity that had fallen upon them as they entered the manifest zone becomes somewhat more pronounced. When the last firbolg steps through, Book walks up to the mirror and breaks it with a few sharp raps of his staff, leaving behind an empty arch and shards of glass. According to Book’s instructions, the Mouth bends down and gingerly picks up one of the larger mirror shards (add this to your equipment Tim: Octogonate Gate Shard).

The satyr turns around and speaks convivially:
“Welcome to Summer, you may call me Saturly. I’m afraid our girl here isn’t exactly welcome in these parts, so, if you’ll allow, we will make our way home like a quickling.”

As he says these things, one of the Firbolg gives the Fey a potion.

I’m trying to move this along, but in the spirit of limiting railroading, I’m opening it up to roleplay. You have until at least tomorrow to have your character react should you so wish. Roleplay thread is here.

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Exploring the Feywild manifest zone

7th Flamerule, 1479

It was a lot easier to get into camp this time, the orcs know who we are and don’t mess with us. So they brough us to see King Jark. He when directly to the point. He’ll tell us what he knows about the raven hair girl once we clear the manifest zone. Sure no sweat.

So we approached the zone. The orcs look nervous and they had open there barricade to let us through and we continued on the path like any walk through the woods and where promptly ambushed by some Banshrae. They were tuff, but the worst what the Blood Apes. They grabbed Healer and then Book and flung them far into the jungle. While we finished the Banshrae off, then when exploring to find our friends… They were bloody masses of friends. I was shocked to find them alive. We then bound our wounds and proceeded much more carfully. We found the portal that was leaking the Feywild into our realm and destroyed it. Excellent work done, though it almost cost us too dearly. The Feywild manifest zone disappears … and 30’ away there is a deformed giant of some sort, who promptly thows a hammer at our face!!!

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Off to see the King

7th Flamerule, 1479

So our trip to King Jarks camp in the giant ruins when well. On our way here, the second day we saw two giant slugs with wings fly by in the valley and stop at an old ruined guard tower. The forgotten approached and then the Fey and the Mouth tried to slip in and see what these Shadowvar where doing. And they got attached by the giant flying slugs. It was an alright fight, but it was hard to coordinate through the trees as we couldn’t see very far in the deep forest. But we managed to kicked there asses. The leader appears to have gotten away, but the witch and the slugs were dispatched. Once we return to Eaglepeaks, we will have to report this to the Purple Dragons.

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A week of relaxing

By the Mouth
4th of Flamerule 1479

Well I’m not broke for once, I’ve even managed the get a shitload of stuff! But it’s time to leave again. The others are getting restless. Tomorrow we leave. They gave me my week and it’s been good for all of us. We have been able to rest, find our own pursuits and make what fun can be found in this sober town. A busy time for some, less for others. We invited and welcomed Autumnto our merry band.

On the 26th of Kythorn, 1479, Book, Guardianand I visited the city’s prison again… At least we were the ones doing the interrogation. That being said, the ork was not difficult, he delivered King Jark‘s message. Now there’s a clever one. He definitely got our attention by dangling that information about the raven-haired girl that we were working for in exchange to helping clear out some new portion of his keep. Also, I’m curious as too what he offered the Purple Dragons, they won’t say what their deal is. Well, I warned them that I can’t take into consideration what I don’t know. At least I seem to have convinced the others that this is the most important lead that we have.

Book was keep busy this past week with creating some magical gear for us, teaching Autumn some magic and then using magic to investigate the Fetters. Some more details about them were found.

Autumn and I had a talk with Uncle War Wizard Droste while he was on his constitutional walk. It was interesting. He confirmed most of our thoughts and suspicions. Mostly, that magic can create our situation and that it’s unlikely that the War Wizards of Cormyr had anything to do with it. Although it’s now evident to me that we are being played. I simply can figure out the angle … yet.

So many unknown… Mad Gods, prophets, prophecies, our lost memories.

On the 29th of Kythorn, 1479 some assassins from House Thresk tried to kill Healerand me in our sleep. And the worst is he dared put a poisoned blade to my throat. NO ONE puts a poisoned blade to my throat. Ha! that didn’t stop me, but he shall pay for that insolence.

Although, Healer almost didn’t make it again. He needs to be more careful. The leader of those assassins really had a hard on for him. His troops were no match for the Defender, the Fey and Book, but it took everything the Healer and I had to keep the Healer alive. It certainly made a ruckus. I wonder what he said. It was certainly a big speech before he tried to kill us. Too bad he got away with his insolent thrice cursed neck-stabbing flunky, but he was memorable enough and should be easy to find, then Paer Pyrn Shalol is next.

It was nice to turn the table on that sanctimonious Horselord Trigg. For once, I was minding my own business when all hell broke lose and I had nothing to do with it. I got to ask him how he could let a dozen assassins into a heavily defended military outpost!! That felt good. Never a good thing to antagonize the fuzz, but what are you going to do!? Except kill that Paer Pyrn Shalol.

I’ve also spent the time playing cards with my friend Samm and his squad of purple knights in training. I’ve gotten to know then as well as possible.

I’ve also spent some time in Kr’Chik’s bar, just letting people get used to seeing me. I’ve also been scouring the city for some information… something for business and something special for my plans.

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Off to the dungeon … Again

26th of Kythorn, 1479

On a crisp mountain morning, the three of you make your way to the Purple Dragon Knights’ dungeon. No need to ask for directions having spent some time there yourselves in the past. It takes some times for the Knights to arrange your visit, as they confirm your identity, fetch an officer, and let you through various security layers, but you are eventually seated in a room with a chained and hobbled orc surrounded by four guards, a young knight who introduced himself as Sir Alak Brightshield, and a scribe. Sir Brightshield explains that while you are being allowed to talk with the prisoner, he can and will stop the interview should he feel the need to. He also tells you that the scribe will be taking notes for Lord Trigg.

You look the orc up and down. He has the build of a warrior and is obviously uncomfortable in the simple tunic he has been given to wear. He does not appear to have been physically mistreated; although, it’s obvious from the lack of odour and his constant scratching that there have been attempts to wash him. When he sees you, he smiles an ugly, gap-toothed, smile. He has a surprisingly pleasant, low, rumbly, voice, but his grasp of common:

“Finally… I wait here one whole moon for your return. Is good shaman said you come or I go before. Good, King Jark send me make you offer. We open new part of palace, but more mirrors. At night, creatures come out of mirror and attack us again. You break mirror, he talk about black haired girl or give treasure. For Knights, he offer agreement, inside Rogg shoe.”

Crunch: you have until tomorrow night to interact with our little guest. After that, I’ll assume you take your leave.

By Cardinalis

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A Stunning Revelation
The Historian's What

As usual, well, maybe, when faced with a riddle, Book can’t sleep. He keeps turning the puzzle in his head, hoping to find a new angle of approach wich will provide the solution. Frankly, he was sure that his divination ritual on the Fetters would provide answers, not more questions. Surely, the Forgotten now have more threads to fit into the tapestry of their past, but it’s still not enough. A voice in his mind, a voice which he can only hear when he is between sleep and wakefulness, a voice he remembers hearing for the first time only some months ago, in a nearby cave, tells him that the answer lies with the items that resisted his arcane sight.

Find the connection.

Seven Fetters stunned him: earrings, idol, journal, painting, ring, shield and wand.

Find the connection.

His mind shut down when probing for the earrings’ last, pre-amnesia, whereabouts, the idol and the shield’s last use, and the acquisition of the journal, the painting, the ring and the wand.

Find the connection.

The Fey suggested, and, after consideration, Book agrees, that these obstacles can only stem from within him. That is, whatever is blocking his memory is likely blocking his divination attempts.

Find the connection.

Book’s thoughts start moving faster. Having established that the blockage only prevents them from remembering private experiences. As the blockage was affecting him and not the ritual, it stands to reason that it functionned in an identical manner.

Find the connection.

If they belonged to his companions and they spent more than a couple of days together, it is quite likely that he would have witnessed the last use of the shield and idol. It is most likely that the earrings were within his sight just before he lost his memory. He doesn’t like making so many assumptions, but the voice keeps egging him on.

Almost there.

If he can’t view the moment of acquisition by the last, pre-amnesia, owner of the journal, the painting, the ring and the wand, he must have personally witnessed the event.

Mine!

Well, there is no garantee…

Mine!

He might have simply been around when…

Mine!

Absentmindedly, Book has started playing with the signet ring he slipped on before leaving the cave. “Mine.”

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The Historian - Log 3 - One of Those Days
Autumn's Homecoming

25th of Kythorn, 1479

Of all the things I could have expected from Autumn’s homecoming, I must admit that an inn patron letting loose a stunning screech, morphing into a wererat and jumping out of the establishment’s front window was not among them. The patron being our old friend Kr’Chik, we of course followed in pursuit.

This course of action was made difficult by the adoring masses that flocked to the inn in order to welcome Autumn home just to be subject to Kr’Chik’s disorienting shout. I zigzagged between the stunned citizens. Looking back, I could see The Guardian elbowing his way through the crowd as The Fey blinked in and out of existence to make her own way across the plaza. However, it is Autumn who took point as she successfully navigated around the crowd and sprinted after her former kidnapper. The Mouth and The Healer would follow only later, as their heightened elven senses proved to be particularly vulnerable to the effects of Kr’Chik’s cry.

Leaving the street, Kr’Chik fled into a blacksmith’s workshop with Autumn in hot pursuit. By the time I made it to the door, the wererat had thrown a bucket of water onto the forge, filling the area with scalding steam. A few words, a short cantrip, and the obstacle was pushed aside on a puff of wind. The Guardian, The Fey and I arrived in the courtyard beyond to find our quarry with his feet frozen in blocks of ice and his way barred by an angry druid. Ever the resourceful one, Kr’Chik managed to free himself and evade his temporary gaoler before we three could assist her. Nonetheless, the delay had allowed The Mouth to catch up and the five of us were right on his tail.

Kr’Chik’s next trick was to hastily sneak by a company of Purple Dragon Knights, forcing us to go through their ranks in order to continue our pursuit. While this would later prove to be the most troublesome of his antics, at the time a simple Ghost Sound spell was sufficient to draw the guard’s attention away while most of us scurried through. Others chose to circumnavigate the knights by taking a parallel street.

We came again upon Kr’Chik as he attempted to make his way across the rooftops in order to escape. Channelling my own vertigo, I conjured a Phantasmal Chasm at his feet – misleading Kr’Chik into thinking he had missed his jump, stopping him in his tracks. The illusion was made even more real when The Fey used her own magic to pull him off the roof and at our feet. Cornered and about to be captured by the Guardian, Kr’Chik drew upon hidden magical reserves and unexplainably teleported out of our reach. And soon he was running across the rooftops again. We pursued until the warehouse district, where he morphed into his rat form and slithered out of sight in a stockroom below.

The six of us – The Healer having finally managed to catch up – split up to search for the rodent. I must confess that, despite the use of my magical eyewear, I mistook a regular rat for our lycanthropic friend and completely lost the scent. Then, I got caught in an ambush.

Though The Guardian and The Mouth managed to track Kr’Chik to his destination, the rest of us were waylaid by some of Kr’Chik’s cronies while still in the warehouse district. Unbeknownst to me, the Fey and the Healer were facing assailants on the rooftops. In the streets below, Autumn and I were trapped in a narrow alleyway. Autumn caused a tremor, tripping her assailant and opening the way. I used this opportunity to first dispatch my own assailant, and then jump over the prone foe. I continued to run until I arrived to a plaza where I found The Guardian and The Mouth stuck in a melee with more of Kr’Chik’s minions.

The battle in the plaza was short, but bloody. We subdued our assailants and entered the inn where Kr’Chik had taken refuge. The innkeeper pointed us to the cellar, where Kr’Chik kept us in check with a barrel-trap and urged us to talk. From him, we learned that he is Autumn’s half-sister’s father. He also pointed us to the Forgotten Thane for additional information concerning our quest, revealed he is Autumn’s father former adventuring companion and told us we can leave a message for him with the innkeeper should we need to talk again.

Back at the The Only Inn in Town, we had an… uncomfortable encounter with Horselord Trigg . Our reputation with the city’s Purple Guard went from bad to worse. However, Trigg’s curiosity concerning an errant orc resulted in an invitation to visit the local prison on the morrow. Shortly after, the Mouth got a visit from his Purple Dragon Knight contact. The rest of us retired to our rooms, leaving Autumn free to have a heart-to-heart with her father.

And just now, as I prepared to chronicle the day’s events prior to retiring for the night, a strip of paper fell from one of my books. It reads, in Undercommon: “House Tresk works for the Dark King, Please do not involve me any further – Gendar”.

Tomorrow will be a better day. For one thing, we will get to collect our reward from Siv and Div. Finally, I will have the financial backing to pursue my arcane studies. But first, I must gather my notes on the Fetters and make a comprehensive report of my findings…

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Historian - Log 2 - Musings
"Seek the Raven Where the Grain Swims"

As to the puzzle of our identities, I think I may have found a corner piece. Had I not found myself distracted of late, it would surely have come sooner. There is no other place where river gave way to fertile land. Where water now flows from marshland to field in order to irrigate the golden crop. A place where every bard sings of cereal:

“Furrow by furrow, and fold by fold,
The soil is turned on the plain;
Better than silver and better than gold
Is the surface-mine of the grain;
Better than cattle and better than sheep
In the fight with drought and heat;
For a streak of stubbornness, wide and deep,
Lies hid in a grain of Wheat.

When the stock is swept by the hand of fate,
Deep down in his bed of clay
The brave brown Wheat will lie and wait
For the resurrection day:
Lie hid while the whole world thinks him dead;
But the Spring-rain, soft and sweet,
Will over the steaming paddocks spread
The first green flush of the Wheat.

Green and amber and gold it grows
When the sun sinks late in the West;
And the breeze sweeps over the rippling rows
Where the quail and the skylark nest.
Mountain or river or shining star,
There’s never a sight can beat—
Away to the sky-line stretching far—
A sea of the ripening Wheat. "

Excerpt from the Song of the Wheat by the bard Andrew Barton Paterson

I am certain of it! The Prophecy refers to Marsember. Perhaps the Mouth will know who among the personalities of Marsember most resembles a raven.

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