Into The Shiverpeaks

Yak's Bend is exactly what it sounds like: there is a bend in the road and there are yaks. It might not be much more than a wide spot on the path, but I always felt welcomed upon returning to the camp.

After fleeing from the desperate situation in Ascalon, Rurik led a number of survivors into the Shiverpeaks and right into a conflict between the Deldrimor and Stone Summit dwarves. I guess the Krytan ambassador forgot to mention that another war was going on to our west. So it fell to me and my companions to clear the way for the refugees to cross over the pass. The xenophobic Stone Summit had heavy patrols ranging to keep us out of their domain. I'm not sure how many dwarves we killed, but I did make a tidy sum selling their armor for scrap.

We ran into a group of besieged refugees that, if I'd known what was to come, I would have left to their fates. Their leader, Elsa Alston, pleaded for our assistance in leading them to safety and I said that we would. But every time we had to sneak past a Stone Summit patrol, the refugees would charge into battle yelling, "Help me! Please help me!" I can only suspect insanity on their parts.

After a number forays into Traveler's Vale, it was time for us to lead the way through Borlis Pass and onto the Frost Gate. Little did we foresee the new tragedy that would befall us.

My Favorite Bows: Elswyth's Recurve Bow

I have, from time to time, complained about the futility in battling the chaos incursion at the Tomb of the Primeval Kings. So it is with some amusement that I discovered a weapon perfectly designed to drive them out deep within the Hall of Heroes.

King Elswyth was a man with a conflicted nature. A great hero of the Elonian people, he was entombed with his mighty bow. On the other hand when his ghost appeared last Wintersday, he was championing the use of the axe, hammer, and sword. This makes it difficult to determine if the king was a ranger of incomparable skill or just another stupid warrior.

Whether Elswyth followed the high path or the low, it is without dispute that he owned a bow of fiendish glory. The weapon itself is dark as onyx and feels chilly to the touch. While holding the bow, I can feel my very life energy draining into it. Much like a canteen with a slow leak, you may not notice until it's too late. Therefore, I have to be very careful in handling it. Or I have to find another way to satiate its hunger.

Any arrow fired from the bow does more than harm its target. It also drains life energy from my enemy and flows it back into me. The effect is much like the vampiric touch skills I learned from my necromancer training. And if I fire a barrage of arrows into a crowd (and there are many crowd in the ruined tomb), the flood of life can be overwhelming.

It helps that the recurve design causes arrows to fly low and fast. But you have to get in close for it to be affective. This greatly contrasts the high-arcing, long-flying shots of my flat bow. But when your using a vampiric weapon, nothing you face is going to last long.

Remember if you ever have a vampiric bow to put it away when your not using it. You'd have to be pretty stupid to let a vampiric weapon kill you because you weren't paying attention. Not that I'm speaking from experience. Really.

Oh, crud. How do I fix this stupid magic diary again?

Slacking Off For Personal Gain

As of late, the Luxon Armada has been making a concerted effort to push into the Echovald Forest. Primarily their focus has been on Durheim Archives. They seem less than interested in exploiting the accumulated knowledge of the scholars there, though some of the seafaring barbarians could clearly use the education. Instead, the goal is just to keep the battle lines of the conflict away from the Harvest Temple and their new jade mining operations there.

The Kurzicks, of course, go into a panic when the ancestral home of one of their noble families is overrun by landlocked pirates. That's when I usually drag myself to the front to push back the overextended Luxons. Count zu Heltzer is always so overjoyed that my standing grows considerably in his eyes, never mind the fact that I can't be bothered to stand watch at Saltspray Beach and prevent the invasion in the first place.

In my increasingly mercenary mind, there is no percentage in holding or pushing the battle into Luxon territory. As interesting as capturing one of their outposts might be, it would only encourage them to strike back and drive us out again. And Count zu Heltzer doesn't reward failure. So my theory is this: if it is more personally advantageous to easily win back territory than to take territory with much greater difficulty, then maybe it's better to let the Luxons has Durheim Archives once in a while so I can play the hero.

From One Illness To Another

For those of you concerned about me after my last entry, I'm feeling much better now. The end of my illness coincided with the start of the Dragon Festival in Cantha. This, it turns out, was a mixed blessing.

Decorations for the festival went up well early of the intended festival start which let to good spirits for all. And curiously, the recently slain began to release trapped energies of the Jade Wind that devastated Cantha centuries before. There was such speculation about the value of these orbs of energy that I soon found people calling out in the courtyard of Shing Jea Monastery, "W.T.S orbs > 250 g." Had I known then what I know now, I would have sold those few orbs I had. As it is, I still have several hundred orbs in my possession as the emperor only required 250 in exchange for the Dragon Masks the Celestial Ministry was distributing. I wonder what they're doing with all those orbs now.

The festival itself was fascinating, from the drake hatchling grab to the Dragon Arena. Where I met my downfall was on the Nine Rings. For the price of ten tickets, you have the chance to win back 15, 25, or even 55 tickets. At 15 gold pieces per ticket, there is a lot of money to be won or lost. At first I was on quite the winning streak. But, as a old dwarf in Droknar's Forge once told me, the house always wins. No matter how much I tried, I could not stem the tide of tickets and gold from flowing out of my purse. It was so bad and I had so little money that woke up on the Rings of Fortune, a lower stakes version of Nine Rings, wearing my Yule Cap and without a cent to my name. People even started to call me Hapless Kira behind my back.

My little sister got me shaped up enough to fight another chaos incursion and redeem my orbs. In all, it was an eventful festival, but I am sworn off gambling for life.