Mirtul 29 1369

Well, that was over quickly. The novelty of a timepiece has already worn off for me, and I can't even be bothered to write the hour down. Maybe I should give it to Immy.

Finally off to High Hedge, to deliver a sample of that weird iron poison stuff to Thalantyr. I've heard he's arrogant, greedy, and conniving, but without a doubt one of the most talented mages in the area. Oh, and he keeps flesh golems as guards. There are some very...odd...rumors about mages and flesh golems. I hope they're not true—I'd hate to have to add a #9 to my list.


Later

Fortunately, Thalantyr is both entirely sane and seems quite competent. Not really what I'd expected from a loner mage. His little "blessing" was rather amusing: "I wish you 'intelligence' on your journey. I would wish you 'luck,' but it runs out quicker than one would think." He's agreed to take a look at the poison and attempt to develop an antidote of some sort. Fingers crossed.


Even later

Almost literally bumped into someone. An elf named Kivan is hunting Tazok, but he's not saying why. Strength in numbers and all that. Another addition to our cause—hopefully he's saner than our other ranger. Though I have a feeling Kivan's not the type to shout "BUTTKICKING FOR GOODNESS!" Though that does present a rather comical image...

I'd better stop before someone asks me what I'm finding so funny.


Mirtul 30 1369

Off to Larswood. Hoping everything goes as planned.


Later

Vith. Vith, vith, vith, vith.

I have now exhausted my Drow vocabulary.

...I am so irritated now. We found the bandits, after three hours searching for them. I thought I'd managed to bluff them into thinking that we wanted to join them. Then their leader noticed Kivan. That really ruined things. We were forced to kill all of them. To make matters worse, we're out of spells and potions again.

Worst of all, we may have lost our chance to find Tazok. I want to pin the blame on someone, but I can't. I can't blame Kivan for having been Tazok's personal prisoner and then escaping. I can't blame Jaheira for not telling me to consider this, or Imoen or Minsc for not scouting ahead. I led us into this.

Making it fully and completely my fault. Oh, the irony. I may have just shot myself in the foot. If we mess up in Peldvale...

I don't know. At the moment I just want to destroy something.


Kythorn 1 1369

A new month, and a new chance. I'm writing this from the bandit's secret camp. We succeeded in finding the bandits, and Jaheira gave Kivan a potion of invisibility. So unless the bandits have a powerful mage or cleric, it should be all right.

...should be. I could have destroyed our chances to solve the iron crisis, to find my would-be killer. I nearly did. I was incredibly lucky. Just the other day I wrote about how much things have changed. I still have a long ways to go. As it is, things were very close. Minsc almost destroyed our cover this time—consequently, we've parted ways with the two Rashemani. Perhaps not such a good idea before storming the secret camp, but Minsc is simply too unreliable.


Later

And how was I supposed to know that there was a mage in Tazok's tent? Exactly. He dispelled Kivan's invisibility, recognized him, and then called in half the camp. Luckily the bandits have bad aim. Also luckily, I was carrying several potions of explosions. They didn't expect that. I feel rather smug at the moment.

And after all this, Tazok wasn't even here. One of the bandit leaders, Taugosz Tenhammer, yelled at us for a while and took a few swings with his hammer. Well, Khalid and Jaheira each drank a potion of invulnerability, Xan and myself cast Shield, Imoen activated her Shield amulet, and Kivan was invisible. No wonder we didn't flinch. Ha. In your face, Black Talons.

Anyway, we know that there's a hidden iron mine nearby. In the Cloakwood—an enormous forest, filled with monsters, traps, Shadow Druids, and now, Iron Throne guards. An elf we met in Tazok's tent, Ender Sai, gave us most of this handy information. And he also recognized Kivan. How is the most silent person I know so...famous?

Logic. Who needs it?


Kythorn 2 1368, Cloakwood

Imoen joked that she and Garrick are feeling lonely as the only humans in our merry band of misfits. "Coran the wyvern-hunter," an elven rogue, has joined our group. He seeks to claim a bounty for a wyvern's head. Great. The price is two thousand gold, though. Hopefully we won't be forced to spend all of that on healing potions. Funnily enough, Kelddath Ormlyr is the one offering the gold. And he's a priest of Lathander. As a Dawnbringer, he's responsible for church funds, and as mayor of Beregost, he's responsible for the town's funds.


Later

I hadn't realized how obnoxious Coran was earlier. He has a very high opinion of himself as a charming rogue and a ladies' man. I let him know quite plainly that he should abandon any hopes of getting into my bed, but he just grinned. Jerk. I also informed him that he'd better leave Immy alone. I don't think he was listening. Khalid doesn't know how to deal with Coran, he's had the sense to stay away from Jaheira, Kivan's been even more elusive than usual, and Xan's been glaring daggers at his back all day. Aerdrie Faenya, why me?!?! I'm stuck in a group of...I don't even know what we are. A bossy druid, her henpecked husband, a moody ranger, a largely inept bard, a thief with few regards for property laws, a depressed mage, and now Coran. And myself. The irritable, incompetent, naïve little Avariel.

What fun.