I can scarcely believe what has transpired in the past day. I always said I wanted adventure, and I have certainly found it. I can only hope it is not more than what I have bargained for.
It began with the arrival of a visitor from the Saraced Empire, a scaled calling himself Zaid An’Shahaad. It is so rare that we see such visitors at Rookhaven Hall, and I was curious to know more about him, but he was quite an imposing figure and rather hard to read. Nevertheless, he would prove to be indispensable to the events of the late afternoon.
Zaid informed cousin Oberon and myself that he had until recently been employed by the late Lord Wright as a sort of adjunct in his Lordship’s service as ambassador to the Saraced. Having been released from service at his Lordship’s recent passing, he now wished to tour the Dunnish countryside in order to “experience life, and bring honour to Bain and to his people” or some such utterance. The scaled have a foreign and fascinating culture, and I do hope to learn more about it.
As though Zaid’s arrival was not enough cause for excitement, Blodwyn informed us that she had finally found a lead on one of the treasures that she and Percy had been pursuing before his death. Through a contact named Henry Valore, she had tracked down a map to find an Elven artifact known as the Mask of Eran, (I am unsure of the spelling.) Eran is apparently a heathen Elf god of death and rebirth. Blodwyn and I, together with Oberon and Zaid, set off for the village of White Stag to obtain the map from Varre.
At White Stag we discovered foul play: Valore’s house had been burgled and there was evidence he had been bound and possibly beaten. I must confess I was frightened; this was quickly becoming more than a mere pleasure outing. I knew Percy and Blodwyn had been involved in rough situations, but I had never guessed that such events would involve base thuggery. But Blodwyn kept her wits about her as always, and fear gave way to excitement and the thought of a rescue mission.
I spied a young half-elf neighbor, and cousin Oberon questioned her on what transpired at Valore’s residence. I confess Oberon does not always have a way with words when discussing matters other than those pertaining to Mithris. When he failed to gain information regarding Valore’s whereabouts, I was able to succeed using diplomacy and more than a little coin.
She told us that she had seen a party of men take Valore east, and we followed the trail to an old abandoned country house belonging to a now-disgraced family whose name escapes me. We found the residence to be occupied by criminals and villains. We devised a plan to create a diversion whereby I would create a conflagration in the woods to distract the men, and we would sneak into the residence to retrieve Valore.
I have never been in a fight apart from the occasional schoolyard tussle, but I climbed a lattice with Blodwyn and proceeded to enter a room on the second floor. Out of practice with this sort of thing, I nearly slipped at the window, causing Blodwyn to catch me and hurl me into the upstairs room. There I encountered a ruffian ready to give me a good thrashing, but Blodwyn caught him in the back of the head. At this point bedlam ensued, and our party was set upon by all sides in the house.
I wish the following were not true. I am scared and ashamed to even write these words, but I cannot deny what happened. I felt a presence inside of me. It is the same one that has been visiting my dreams. He is the tall, pale figure who goes by Ithaqwa whom I “invited” to stay at Rookhaven in my sleep. I thought those were mere dreams, but during the fight he was there, and he showed me… skills that I did not know I had.
I should not be writing this. If father should find this book, well, he’d probably think me daft. But there is no denying that I hurt those men. The best way to describe it is that I caused the fabric of reality to be unbound. This would be fascinating to study if it were not so terrifying, and if it were not happening to me. Everyone saw what happened, and thankfully Oberon used his healing arts to help those men before they perished. We could not stay to ensure that they would be alright. Apparently the thugs worked for Samuel Wright, the firstborn son of his late Lordship whom he never mentioned on account that he is a ne’er-do-well.
We found Henry, alive but a bit worse for wear. He promised us the final piece of the map, and thus our adventure can continue. I am not sure if after today I am ready for another adventure. The others have not spoken to me about what happened. I will go to Oberon and get his assurance in this matter. Of course father must not know.
Ithaqwa, if you can read this, know that I did not ask for this. If I had known you were real, or that you would do this to me, I would never have permitted you to stay!