Quendy’s Log: Tracking Douven Staul

Quendy here. Or should it be Quendie, now? I’ll never get the hang of that being a woman stuff.

I can barely remember why were were looking for the old man. Then again, my memory isn’t much to behold.

Suffice it to say that we were hired to find the man.

So we finally did. As expected, the guy was investigating a rumored dragon cemetery.

We found a nearby burial site with little trouble and were greeted by what seemed to be an odd group of archeologists. Needless to say, they were nothing more than grave diggers. Their greeting was a trap and, once again, we were forced into battle.

Battle is nothing like the fights of yore. Back in the days, I could grab my lute and inspire my group to perform heroic deeds. Back in the days, I could dazzle my foes with my wits and charm.

But the music died.

What I felt is some kind of detachment. And a dull dizziness. But I was far for numb.

One of the grave diggers let loose some sort of dog-like lizards on us.

« Aa’lle kaivo lirilluva ve’lithie no’sina talan! » – I cursed at them.

I barely understood the words that came out of me. It is as if something had whispered them in my ear and they fell straight out of my mouth.

A chill went through my body as dark flames gathered through my wand and launched at one of the creature, hitting it full force. The beast paused its advance and was soon felled by a volley of arrows coming from my allies.

We made short work of the rest of the group and forced them to flee – but not without them seriously injuring our paladin friend. What was her name again? Brigit? Maybe I can still remember a few names, after all?

So, we rescued Douven, who rewarded us with some loot he found on the site and we all anticlimactically went back to town together.

But Brigit was restless – our « prize » for rescuing Douven felt more like grave robbing. And the loot itself – a mirror with a dark frame, encrusted with small skulls, felt rather ominous.

She managed to convince us to have it checked out by various specialists – was it enchanted? cursed? was it used as part of a dark, gloomy, sinister ritual?

Everyone told us that no, it is a valuable piece of jewelry – of questionable taste, perhaps – but valuable still.

I figured we could sell it and try to score some equipment with the resulting funds. Lord knows I needed the funds to try and learn more about the fey people. Books were few and far between in these parts of the world. And they were not exactly cheap.

But noooooo. Lady Brigit was so convinced that the mirror was more than met the eye, that she decided to have it locked in a vault at the temple – until we can figure out what makes it tick.

For a second, I wondered if I should lock her in a vault – to see what makes her tick.

But this age is the age of diplomacy.

« We can never be too careful », I agreed, trying to hide the sneer from my voice.

Ah, these careful people. It a wonder anything interesting ever happen in their lives…

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