From Errol’s Journal: Long has it been since I have used the writing skills that were beaten into me in my youth- the skills that I despised and walked away from.

But now that I own a home (a home!) it is time for me to record some of the wondrous things that I have seen and indeed been an crucial part of – so that the children I will someday have shall know, even if I have been slain, of the adventures their father was on.

I will start with my most recent adventures. For some time now I have been with a cohort of companions known as the “Hand of Fortune,” a rather ungainly group of fighters and practicers of mystic arts, engaged in somewhat freelance adventures. There is more to this group than I know, and of much of what I do know, I dare not put down on this vellum.

The Hand are mostly a stalwart bunch. Since I have joined them, naturally they have looked to me for guidance, but I largely have refused, except in extremis. While it is clear that my fighting skills and combat experience are far superior to any of theirs, we are dealing with mystic elements and political intrigue that is far beyond my ken, and beyond the intrigues I knew in the Republic.  I leave such things for those who do not feel sullied by wading through gülvini droppings.

I have been in this barbarous land for far too long, but there have been rewards for my punishment –I have a handsome home now, gifted me by the Crown for some small services that I, with the help of the rest of the Hand, performed. Though how I will be able to pay for this home… is this a different kind of manacle from those of the Arena?

Recently the petty kings of this area have been involved in starting equally petty wars. Naturally this is an opportunity for someone with my skills.  War has broken out and we were sent off to rescue the local prince. We traveled by rather marvelous ways to Dor Lorethal, only to find that the prince was dead. But the princess was alive, so all was not totally lost.

Turns out she was rather soldierly, and had led an attack herself that probably had saved the keep. The King had requested that I and the Hand take no mystic short cuts back with his children, deeming them unsafe, but as it turned out, those mystic ways would have been the safer alternative. But as requested, the Hand escorted the Princess, along with a troop of her own soldiers, led by a guard captain who was clearly incompetent (and of whom I was deeply suspicious), along the rutted tracks they call roads, toward Kar Urkonis.

We stopped for the night at some small hamlet en route.  The name eludes me, but the local peasants loved to prat on about the no doubt home-spun hero who lent his name to this wide spot in the road.  I feared that there might be some attempt on the Princess here, and chose to spend the night outside the wayside tavern, where I would not be trapped. The mage Korwin chose to join me. (As an aside, this man can talk incessantly…. I was tempted to gag him so I could sleep… but at least he does not snore like the cantor does).

At dawn, after an uneventful night,  we awoke and broke our little camp. As we did so we were suddenly alerted by the sounds of horses and hushed commands from the direction of the inn. When I scouted the situation, I estimated that there were over 100 soldiers, heavily armed and on horseback, taking up positions around the building.  Since Devrik was in there (he is capable with a his sword, though he takes far too many risks in battle; in the Arena fighters such as he were admired… for the short time they lived) along with Mariala (a remarkable woman – the most dangerous person in the group, after myself) I assumed they would certainly be able to hold the inn, at least until I was ready.

Unfortunately,  things in the inn spun out of control before my ambush was in place –the ruffians kidnapped the Princess and were about to abscond with her! Korwin, implementing his part of the ambush, miscast his ice spell, thereby exposing us to the enemy and almost getting us killed.

I hate magic.

Which leads me to another aside – the mages and the cantor seem to think of me as a good luck token, and seem to prefer to have me near them when they cast particularly challenging spells or rituals or such. I humor them – I have no interest in understanding their mysterious arts, but if my presence gives them more confidence, then it is only to our troop’s benefit. Though apparently my presence was not enough that day for Korwin’s spell casting – neither this time nor later, when he managed to inebriate himself.

I hate magic.

The troop, with their prisoners in hand, rode off leaving us behind.  After we gave a brief pursuit – realizing that the Khundari  was disguised as one of the soldiers – we decided to use certain mystic means to reach their supposed destination before them.  I dare not describe these esoteric matters herein, but suffice it to say that we did arrive ahead of them. In the dungeons of Kar Urkonis.

The story after that is both fantastic and yet mundane. Being the quietest among our group (that sneaky Khundari being in hiding with the enemy soldiers), I scouted the dungeons out and devised a plan, eagerly adopted by the others, of how we would rescue the Princess when she was brought to the dungeon.

The plan did not go entirely as planned, however, as the Princess was not actually brought down… but her captured escort troops were!  I quickly dispatched most of the guards, with some slight assistance from the others, and freed the Princess’ loyal troops. While they provided a distraction, myself and the rest of the Hand went in search of the Princess herself. In this my little furry companion Grover proved his skills, to the amazement of the others, by quickly sniffing out the location of the dwarf, and once we found him we were able to find our royal charge – who was in the process of rescuing herself.

Once we had the Princess and her party in our care, we sought to extricate ourselves from the castle – clearly from the sounds of the battle outside, I knew that our loyalists were not doing well.  As we sought our escape, however, we were confronted by the Earl Yorma  – but with the voice of another and a sudden ability to cast vile spells to prevent our escape!

Acting, as usual, more quickly than the rest of the Hand (ah how I love those moments in battle when time seems to just slow down for me and everyone appears to be moving as though wading through mud), I threw a javelin at the deranged Earl, which he flicked aside, as I charged to attack him.  Foul vines erupted from the floor as I approached the Earl, entangling my legs, but leaving my arms free to engage the renegade nobleman. The Earl parried my first trident jab with his arm, and I knew then that this was no ordinary man – my trident should have pinned his arm to the wall!

Quickly I switched to wielding my net, and with the satisfying hum of a roused bee hive and with the shocking power of the electric eel, my net entangled his sword, giving him a jolt that he would not soon forget!

Grover ran to my side and attacked the vines entangling me, even as I continued with my vigorous attack on the Earl. It was thrust and parry for several minutes until finally, with a particularly deft strike from my trident, I felled the turncoat Earl. The rest of the Hand helped too.

As always in situations like this, I made a point of praising them for whatever slight contributions that they might have made, and shrugged off their profuse praise of my own battle acumen and prowess.  I learned as a gladiator the value of praising those of lesser talents. You never know when you’ll need lion fodder…

After that the mages in our group removed us from Kar Urkonis, and back to the capital of this little country, and I had the opportunity to return to my new home (while I may hate magic, traveling by mystic means is damned convenient, and  is something the mages do well. Usually).

Jeb has been working on my home in my absence, having a secure and concealed lockbox installed inside my sleeping chamber, along with setting up an archery range on the roof.  Our neighbors are not very pleased by the range…..I have had complaints that Jeb apparently has missed the targets and startled a comely maid or two… knowing Jeb’s skill I suspect that he is just introducing himself.

I will stop now – I must go to the baths to get clean and civilized again… as well as one can in such a land as I am currently exiled in. Oh how I miss decent food, prepared the way the Immortals intended food to taste.

And I need to decide soon the questions that burdens my soul now…  Shall I send for my family? Will they come if i do? Or should I go to the Republic for them, explain things in person?