4th ENTRY

As i sit in the fire light just outside a village in a land they call Englo Ben, I have a new fire kindled within me. We stormed the gnoll stronghold, defeated Bone Gnasher, made off with the prize artifact, and escaped with our lives. A successful mission by any measure. I stopped the priest from making what i thought to be a huge mistake, only to find the mistake was mine. With our new found acquaintance we have a way to rid ourselves of the pirates and these cursed collars. I'm not sure how much i trust this old magik smith, but he seems to have just as much reason to sink Garabaldi as i do. But, what of the trolls? We cannot expect that once we are freed from our captivity that the trolls will automatically follow suit. Lord Daneisha and i have had time to talk about this and have concluded that the way to keep our control over the trolls is through the priest. His influence that i feared would lead to mutiny now seems to be a very useful tool. I have heard stories of great warrior that had nothing to fuel their battle than faith in a god. this faith has moved mountains, destroyed cities, and reduced great empires to rubble. I now think that this faith, if used properly could be the most powerful weapon of all.  

FLASHBACK

       In my boy hood I had a good life by most standards, I worked in our small garden where my family grew fruit and vegetables to relieve the cost of feeding four children. My father worked as a carpenter in the village building or repairing homes and businesses. Sometimes on large jobs my father would take me with him to help. Waking me in the early morning he would say " get up now Woldar,... we have work that needs our attention." And so we would repair roofs or raise barns on the outlying farm lands. When my father woke me on my last night at home it was his words that first told me something was wrong "get up now Woldar,... you have work that needs your attention." The subtle change in words caught my ear through the bleary eyed haze. The look on my fathers face and the fact that my mother, so it seemed, could not bear to look upon my father said more than words ever could. From a dusty old tool box that my father kept near the hearthstone he produced a well worn footman's mace, taking it in my hands i could hear my mother softly weeping. As i turned to look at her she immediately turned away to the closet and brought me a new traveling cloak. I knew that they were preparing me the best they could to head out in to the world. After a very quiet farewell I looked in on my three younger sisters one final time. It crossed my mind that I would not be around to see them married off or have that talk with their husbands to be where I threaten their lives if they darken my sister's eyes even a little. Closing the door quietly as not to wake them I headed for the front door where my father met me. "Good luck. Woldar, I am sorry that this is now your burden to bare." With that I headed out into the cold blowing snow of that winter night. Arriving at the church as I had been instructed, I was lead in to a lower meeting room. It had the look of a room where a priest would prepare a body to be laid to rest in the tomb. Three other damned souls sat at the table with me. I could not bear to lay my hands on the table for I was certain that this was not a table for eating. In this room there is a door across from the one that i entered through. A large very thick door with heavy hinges, handles, and locks. Runes and symbols covered the from bottom to top, carved centuries ago before the Town of Lockheart was ever even thought of. "I have been in this room before," i think to myself as the door from which we had entered open again. This time it was Father Abadoax, with colorful robes of fine make and material, religious symbols of every precious metal known to any hume ( and maybe a few that aren't), and a whole cast of other priests in his wake, he swept into the room without speaking and sat at the head of the table. To me it looked as though he didn't want to touch the table either, I can only assume it was for the same reasons. 

3rd Entry

We have finally made camp after an intense battle with our true enemy. What we fought before were either the very young or the very old. It is now painfully obvious why the pirates would send prisoner slaves on such an important mission, if we fail it is of no great consequence to Garabaldi. He will only send other prisoners in the hopes that we will have done something to weaken the defenses so that the party to follow us will get a little further. With this new revelation in mind I now wonder " are we the first, and if not, how many are there that went before us" Putting these thoughts aside now, I am vexed with the state of the priest, he and the troll healer attempted the same task with all but disastrous results. The priest actually trying to heal our leader and the troll trying to protect him from the priest. If the priest's magik had not taken affect first I fear we would have had a torn leader to fit our torn party. I refer to the party as torn for the reason that the bard and the thief would not,I think, be with us at all if it were not for the "glorious dog chains" that keep us to our tasks. At this time I wish them no ill will, however, when they try to reap the spoils of battle they best have earned it. I'm not sure that the party is big enough for all these separate pieces, I know the party is not large enough to hold the priest and the troll healer. Taking Lord  Daneisha's patience into account I do not think that the issue will be long lived.  

2nd Entry

 We have found ourselves in a wooded area at late evening. Still with these oppressive collars, I have grown accustomed to the feel of the metal at my throat, every soldier has his uniform. The trolls have surprised us with their precision and skill. We have already killed three with excellent stealth, at this time our enemy knows nothing of our presence. As long as we can maintain the element of surprise this leg of our journey should be simple. I have started to worry about the influence that the priest in gaining over the troops, I do not think that their loyalty has at all shifted away from Lord Daneisha yet, the priest will remain under my watchful eye. Any treachery will not be tolerated. I will crush traitors under my hammer.

first entry

In my first few days with my new rank and mission I feel a sense power and purpose. I serve my compatriot as a military advisor. it seems that i do so with a wisdom that is not my own as if I am advised by a greater being. Lord Daneisha grows darker with each passing day. (not that i could really tell one day from any other in the month). His quiet rage and planned vengeance against the church of Lockheart consumes him. And the spirit that now guides our priest comes to the ranks as welcome as death to a tortured soul. I to feel this, as my own mind drifts to thoughts of blood rain and vindication from the path that the "holy" men put upon us. They too, those "holy" men will taste the bitter rotten fruit of the seeds they sowed in the underdark.