Journal Entry of Vallen Dirthridir
By William A. Thorn
Regrettably, my journal entries as of late have been bare, for it was an all-consuming and heavy task requiring my immediate attention that kept me from my pen. For the past seven days, my waking hours have been occupied with the solemn duty of resurrecting my fallen comrades: Adoril Urthadar, Kai Tsintah, Marcus Muddywater, and Tavin Grimmane. Recognition and gratitude must be given to the Matrons of Marlquet Island; if not for their assistance and resources applied toward this feat, the souls of my comrades would still be drifting beyond the aether, likely beyond any hope. The aforementioned heaviness, however, was not attributed to the arduous ritual of drawing their souls back from the distant unknown; rather it was the upsetting fact that most of their violent deaths could likely have been avoided had I been more forthcoming with my newly learned ability to resurrect. For the sake of posterity and the integrity and sincerity with which this journal is at all times penned, an admission must be made: I am not as unsettled with my culpability for my comrades’ early demise as some may posit one would or should be.
One day prior to the miracles of resurrection needing to be attempted upon four of my comrades, the unmistakeable and demanding call of that martial domain of which no participant can directly name resounded within my head. As mentioned in previous journal entries, when a member of this martial domain hears this distinctive call—that sudden crash of a mallet striking out tin and boom followed by the quick waning of the tin leaving only the boom to linger like distant thunder rolling through the countryside—there is no choice but to comply and enter the awaiting portal. As I approached the epicenter of this lingering call, it had become apparent that the occurrence of this portal’s manifestation was not the result of luck or fate. Instead, it was invoked into existence by two of my comrades foolishly attempting to recall a vexing gap of memory using a powerful annulment enchantment placed upon an arrow.
As a matter of course, Kai and Marcus, neither schooled in any matter of the arcane art, concluded that the best course of action was for Kai to draw her bow and sink the arrow deep into the stark white buttock of Marcus in an attempt to annul the effect of a possibly lingering enchantment upon Marcus that may be obstructing his recollection of said gap in time. Evidently, it occurred to neither of them that it would have been most judicious to request their comrade and expert in matters arcane to investigate the possibility of an alternative method for invoking the enchantment before resorting to the extreme measures of violence against one another. Before continuing with this account of events, it must be explained that having become accustom to the puerile and impulsive disposition of my comrades, such behavior these days rarely merits even the slightest raising of a brow. However, violence perpetrated by any member of the aforementioned martial domain upon another member outside the designated confines of the domain violates one of the fundamental tenets of membership thereby invoking the portal and a martial trial as punishment. Hence, the current portal was needlessly summoned into being as a result of the shortsightedness and impulsiveness of Kai and Marcus.
My annoyance at having to needlessly endure the triviality of yet another martial trial when we were urgently needed to undertake matters of great import elsewhere must have been distracting me while traipsing through the labyrinthine deathtrap. Not only did Marcus’s bleeding buttock go untended for a short time, but when it was finally addressed, my hand slipped uncharacteristically, causing the arrow to inflict as much injury upon extraction as it possibly caused when it first impaled him. Upon deeper reflection, my poor extraction should more accurately be attributed to an acute emotional irritation that had been dwelling within me for quite some time, particularly at Marcus. Prior to the buttock-arrow debacle, Marcus had already become bothersome with his cajoling, making repeated attempts to extract from my possession the second of my two enchanted pistols, the first of which had already been loaned to him. On the other hand, once within the labyrinth, Kai certainly made no strides in assuaging my irritation by recklessly shoving me into a magical construct that could have brought me to a swift and ignominious death. Now both demonstrated yet again their lack of discipline and foresight by needlessly drawing their comrades into yet another martial trial that always bears great mortal peril.
As irrational and spiteful as it may have been, I desired Kai and Marcus punished for their injudiciousness and for risking the lives of their comrades unnecessarily. Therefore, my lips remained pursed when it was realized that Kai, Marcus, and those of us who unwittingly allied with one or the other were to fight each other to the death in gladiatorial combat as punishment for violating the aforementioned fundamental tenet of the martial domain. Again, I would be remiss in upholding the integrity and sincerity of this journal if I did not admit that deeply seated within my bosom was the desire to earn the respect of my comrades. Time and again they have demonstrated that I am considered no more than a mere magical artifact to be invoked upon command. My fireballs and healing arts have been the deciding factor in many engagements, extricating us from what otherwise could have been our final act upon this realm, and rarely do I ever receive gratitude. Countless items of great power recovered from the spoils of our exploits have been analyzed in my hands, yet rarely am I considered worthy of their possession. Even the delicious and highly nutritious food they regularly consume, summoned daily by my hand, goes without notice. Thus, in a single great, juvenile fit, I lashed out at them all, demonstrating my awesome potential for destruction and rejuvenation.
In spite of the repercussions or consequences that may lie ahead for my actions, I shall end this entry on a positive note. I have trust that in my future endeavors, I shall be able to exercise better self-restraint of my emotions and impulses, better restraint than typical of my comrades, at the very least. Additionally, it is worth noting that the construct encountered in the labyrinth that could have ended my life were it so inclined has in truth assumed the role as my guardian. It would only be proper to dub it Lloyd, after that sanctimonious captain back in Wushotan who never deemed it necessary to provide enough protection for the wizards in the regiment. I shall confer with the other wizards in Thule regarding the maintenance and repair of such a marvel.
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