Arren Illithian: From the Ravener

Alia raised her thin fingers to the bridge of her nose and rubbed. The sensation soothed her throbbing headache. She had been going over her brother's ledgers for weeks now in order to take over where he'd left off. No wonder he had begun to wear those spectacles, reading parchment by candle light for hours on end was agony. She looked about the room letting her eyes adjust to a distance of more than two feet. She'd always liked the ledger room of the Illiathan storehouse. The walls were dark grained wood hung with simple red and green tapestry's of the family's crest against which the candles upon the desk cast black shadows. At night the shadows allowed her thoughts to drift to the stories she'd been told as a child, of shadow creatures conjured by mages that feasted upon little children's dreams. She had never been sure which of the stories she heard of as a child were true. She'd only seen magic a couple of times in her life, but remembrance of those instances still made her hairs stand on end.

As she shifted her gaze back to the papers splayed out upon the heavy wooden desk there came a sudden tapping upon the small window above her desk. During daylight, the window offered enough light spilling over the desk to read comfortably by, and in late afternoon, the sun cast a golden curtain of light in which Alia liked to take her break from the tedious task of ledger keeper to read one of the many books which Arren had left behind in his hasty flight from Andmar. Now, it was dark, the sun had set hours ago and Alia had stayed late in order to avoid the misery that was her house as of late. Startled by the sudden tapping, Alia made a short intake of air and looked to the darkened window. She couldn't see the slightest thing. Nights in Andmar were dark and often overcast by blankets of fog and storm clouds coming in off the sea. Today was no different. Alia looked at the window for another few seconds, nothing. When she was about to get her mind back to her work there came another tapping at the window, this one louder. Alia wasn't sure what it could be, there were no trees outside the window, and the wind was quiet this evening. She mustered her curiosity out of the slumber of her tedious task and rose from the high backed chair at which she sat. Reaching tentatively for the window, she opened it.

There was a sudden flutter and a ball of blackness shot in from the outside. At first she thought that it was some beast come for her blood, and let out a startled shriek, then the fluttering mass of black settled upon the coat rack by the room's door. It was a raven. There were many ways in which information was circulated about the five kingdoms, aside from magic, the most direct and most affluent method of post was the raven. Why had the raven come here? The few raven's that her family had received had always flown to their estate, never here. She walked toward the rather large bird and it lifted it's left leg, on it was a small parcel bound in weatherproofed leather, sealed with a crest of two feathers, meaning that this letter had been delivered by a postmaster himself, pressed into the leather was her name, Alia Illiathan. At first Alia Panicked, what would this letter say? Was it news that her brother, her last and closest relative was dead? Would the family line end with her? Her hand began to tremble and she couldn't break the seal of the parcel. She took a deep breath and steadied her hand. Alia remembered what she had thought to herself as Arren had run off into the sun and the rest of the world. He was the greatest and last Illiathan heir, he had promised that he would write, this was her brother keeping his word.

Her hands ceased their trembling and she reached for the letter knife upon the desk. Alia broke the seal without any further difficulty and and withdrew from it several pages of parchment. These were sealed with the Illiathan family crest. He was alive. Although she believed in her brother, Alia had a harder time trusting in the rest of the world or the gods that ruled over it. Alia knew that it was hard to be human in a world brimming with so many more powerful forces than yourself, but somehow they survived. Because of or in spite of the gods Arren still lived, she couldn't say which. They say that Sigmas was human once and that he ascended to godhood. If that were the case then why did he not end the suffering of mortality? Perhaps some powers were even outside the realm of the gods. In any case, the Illiathan family had ceased devout observance of the gods years ago, save Quainess and Preseka, the godesses of the sea and luck. Quainess because the family trade was intimately tied to her fickle ways and Preseka because no mortal could escape the goddess of fate. But in truth they were merely observances, a formality and nothing more. Bastard houses can be that way, since they were acknowledged by none, they acknowledged none in return, a fatal philosophy to be sure.

Gods or none, Arren's letters had reached her, she broke the seal of the parchment and Gazed happily upon her brother's neatly flowing script. She had always been jealous of his calligraphy, he had the most perfect handwriting she had ever seen.

My Dearest Sister,

I hope that my letter finds you and our parents in good health, I can only imagine that the past month has been a dark and solemn affair for all of you. I trust that my brother was well received into the sea as befits a noble Illiathan, I said my prayers every day for a month to Quaniss that he might find a quick and pleasant travel to Gharlamaal's kingdom, and feel in my heart that he did. Brennet was a good man and I can only hope, on the event of my own death that I will find myself by his side once again. How are you my sister? I think of you often and hope that father has enough sense to let you keep the ledgers. If he isn't a fool, he'll let you take my place on the Couatl no matter how much that old rum sack Narro spits and fusses. Do not let that old sea dog get under your skin, he's a good man and taught me as much about life as our father did and plenty more than that about the sea. Please tell father and Mother that I send my regards and tell them that I'm so terribly sorry for leaving. It may have been foolish to kill Virgo, but I must stand by my actions, as I cannot say that I regret them.

I have learned much about life and death since I left you my dear sister. The road is not as friendly an ally as one would have hoped and there are more dangers in the five kingdoms than I could have ever imagined. Life as a merchant and member of a noble yet bastard house has sheltered us more than I had ever thought. The Five seem to be on the brink of something terrible, every town is more untrusting of outsiders than the last, here in the town of Camdella, the Ivors seem about ready to draw arms against the Alk'Harans and I fear that matters may only get worse.

Luckily, I have managed so far, to keep my head clear of politics. After I left our estate, I sought aid from a temple of Sigmas, the priest was an honest healer and helped me free of tithe to find passage out of Andmar with a wagon merchant named Devane. I traveled with him as a hired guard, luckily the man didn't seem in favor of asking too many questions and was content with the priest's word that I was a good man and proficient with our brother's sword. If you ever meet the old wagonier when he's back in Andmar, be sure to sell to him, just be wary of his haggling talent!

In our travels through the five kingdoms (and I can safely say that we have ventured through all but Chimaris in this single caravan journey) we gathered a strange assortment of characters. Joining the caravan with me, and now it seems one of my consummate companions is a churlish dwarf that goes by the name Korick Ironbolt. Although of the average dwarven temperament, he is an agreeable sort of person who is unfortunately given to thievery which is no doubt an unfortunate side effect of the inherent greed which runs through their species. I have often wondered if this is not why dwarven society is so strict, perhaps without it's many laws and seemingly arbitrary customs, the greed of dwarves would rule them all. Another addition to the caravan was a young man who has given us his one and seemingly only name as Idwel. This young man is closer to the age of boyhood and if it were not for his uncanny proficiency with what seems to be magic, I would have made sure to leave him at the first village we came across. I still am unsure as to what the boy's motives are, but for better or worse he has joined our party and is in the care of the group. I can only hope that the Geldenieran preist with whom we have made friends can show him toward gentler ways. Ah yes! I have been traveling with a Geldenieran prest named Geldezar, he is the gentlest half-orc I have met in my travels. Much different than the brutes that crew our ships at sea. The priest seems young, just out of the Abbey but in spite of his age, priesthood has matured him, that or the fact that he is stricken with what appears to be leprosy. I have much pity for the young man, but there seems little that I can do for him except give him the respect he deserves which is much for one of his apparent age.

Unfortunately, not all of our travels have been about building companionship on this long and dangerous road. We have come across many people in distress. In a small village who's name escapes me, a group of nasty creatures known as Trogs were killing the inhabitants and ransoming the pesants' lives for more money than the villagers possessed. With some persuasion we were able to convince the wagoneer to allow us to help the endangered people. I have never had to wield my sword or any other weapon in the defense of others and am beginning to understand what a sword means to those who have none in times of need. We slayed the Trogs, and followed the ones who fled us back to their terrible layer beneath the river bank, there we confronted a creature that I am told is a Marrow, a kind of river ogre massive and brutal, where we slew it mercilessly for the evil it had performed upon the defenseless village.

Alia, while I have no desire to follow the footsteps of our brothers, I have found that a person possessed of good will can indeed use a sword for good. While fleeing my life as a merchant which I so adored, I have found another life that fills me with more meaning and a greater sense of the world than I have ever known. I will continue to travel and see what good I can do for people, using my sword if need be, I am anxious to see what this world has to offer without the confines of duty and the worries of money to hold me back.

Before I conclude this letter prematurely, you should know that I am in the employ of the ravener of this city. He has been so kind as to grant us free postage in return for helping him retrieve a letter. The ravener takes his job very seriously and seems to me to be an honorable man. Unfortunately, in order to help the man we had to follow his raven into a catacomb located across the river in Lionne. The catacomb as Presekka ordained was full of foul abominations known as undead.

I have never seen such things in my life, but this new life makes me feel that it won't be the last. Some malevolent power caused the dead of that catacomb to rise back in rotting form and attack us in our attempt to find the lost raven. Once again it was skill with a sword that saved our lives, a skill which I am much more thankful for now than I used to be.

Sister, I love and miss you, I will write when I get a chance however, in the mean time be strong and make me proud. I believe in you.

--Arren Illaithan

Alia closed the letter and sighed. She wished she could escape this place too, fortunately she had an idea of how that was possible. Alia walked to the door and grabbed her cloak. The raven, still there eyed her curiously. She grabbed the lantern on her desk and opened the door. The bird burst out of the door in a black blur, as it had arrived. She waved farewell, and making her way through the dark streets of Andmar, toward the dark forest of ship masts against the sea. It was time for her to speek her mind to Nerro, and start her own adventure...