Pages added to the back of a wizard's spellbook. (Zachary's journal)

[Norture]

[written in Dalespeak]

Another man with potential. We'll see if her turns out, or if he ends up being another Valkan. I gave him the same test jobs I gave Nikolaz. Time will tell how useful he is. He currently seems quite aimless. He wants, but he does not know what he wants.

Scurvy's band of thugs served a very good purpose. And I am the one reaping the benefits because the other powers-that-be weren't willing to see the potential in any of them.



I feel astonished, but also somewhat awkward at realizing that I walk with far more talented arcanists than myself. But, this is not about magic in itself. It is about one's analytical prowess. I bring to the table something a bit different. If one asked me, why do I walk the path that I do? I have an answer.

Why do I lurk and waddle in filth? Because I do not see it as above myself. To do a job right, often one has to do it himself.

Does my skill with lurking not allow me access to books and artifacts I could not recover otherwise?

My experimentation on Inari and others involve them not being able to see me. That seemingly supernatural events take place around them, so I may observe their reactions. I've had a handful of occasions where, after I perform some sort of arcane phenomenon, individuals will cast see invisibility to try and see who is responsible. But, they never see anyone.

Not to mention, the privacy I can guarantee. I personally quite dislike individuals listening to my private conversations, I can't imagine anyone different.

My training lends itself to this sort of skillset. And likewise, I am bringing together talented individuals under myself.

If it is a question of control, then by all means all of this comes together to create a specific sort of control. The bigger picture is comprised of thousands of smaller pictures, one cannot ignore his surroundings. And I am more than aware of how rare it is to find men with a honed sense of critical thought, who seek something more than just raw might. Who can see past the allure, the luster, the glitter of the fragmented moment in which one lives.

Perhaps I cannot dedicate myself to practice the arcane in a fuller sense, but I am confident my delving into other talents gives me something unique.

[Norture]

[Written in Dalespeak]

I haven't gone through this much money in a long time. Scrolls, equipment. It costs a lot to get someone on their feet. But I believe it sends a positive message to the apprentice. They are able to perform at a much higher standard much sooner, and can put their training to actual use. As well it gives me a divine appearance. I can make things happen. It's expensive to maintain for now, but in the long run will be worth it. It simply means I need to spend effort in obtaining gold.

There is that outstanding job as well. It isn't for a lack of effort, I've put hours into it. I'll change my strategy to become more time efficient. There is the chance that the target is on the move, which means I will have to plan accordingly.

[Norture]

[Written in Dalespeak]

It's been on my mind, I can't shake the feeling that Daryl wanted to simply rob the doctor and run. He noted how long he was taking in getting some food and returning to the room, he eagerly asked if I could walk just fine. It was a bad idea all around, I'll have to teach him another lesson later. Never commit crimes if people can identify you. Perhaps I should remind him, what happened the last time he saw people antagonize a Lamordian doctor? While this man was just another fleeting face in the world, we have to consider the outcomes. If we stole from him and ran, it is possible he would attempt to recover money for services (or ruin my face with a scalpel) as well as take back the stolen book. Even if he didn't go to these lengths, it would make things difficult if we ever needed to go to Lamordia. We would be in an unknown danger, the worst kind: The doctor likely would have told his friends and others he works and studies with. I look unique enough that I could be easily identified. He worked on my face, he would be able to describe my scar easily (or is it scars now? I hope not). It's worth noting he said he was going to a conference. It's possible he is an important figure, and at the very least he does have an audience to listen to him.

This is what separates the two of us from the bumbling thugs still under Scurvy. You don't commit crimes simply because there's a window of opportunity. You need to think, use your head. Reputation is one of the few valuable things we own in this world, risky jobs where there are witnesses should be avoided. Especially for such little gain, I paid the doctor 2000 fang. I'm not putting my reputation on the line needlessly to save 2000 fang.




There's a key word the man used the other day. A word that hasn't been lost on me, it is full of connotations. It suggests tradition, but also rites of passage. I suppose I will find out tonight. It's likely if I fail I will die, now that I know too much. But I'm confident I won't fail.

[Norture]

[Norture]

[Written in Dalespeak]

An old pain is surfacing again, a tale I've told quite few. In my attempt to escape through the Graycloak Hills, one of their attacks grazed my side. Among other things, my spellbook was lost. All of my foundation knowledge. Granted it was the least of my concerns at the time, the irony was never lost on me that I nearly died in the same way Absalom did. I thought the lively mist was the elves' doing and ran straight through it.

It's been nearly two years now. So much time I've spent trying to find a niche in the world --- Wasted time, for the most part. A lot of hard lessons in learning I cannot approach anything here like I would back home. Including other outlanders, as Absalom taught me.
While I've grown in my ability to cast at a purely functional level, I need to refocus. I need to return to the arcane as not a means but as an art. Of course, it hasn't been terribly necessary up until recently. And of course, for the longest time I did purposely avoid the arcane as an art out of concern towards the nature of the world and how it influences magic. Something to approach with caution, a recognition that this isn't Toril. But my shortcomings are quite apparent to me, these are problems I have to resolve.

[Norture]

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[Norture]

[A copy of a Wayfarer Kinship poster has been folded and pinned to a page in Zachary's book]

[The entry is written in Dalespeak]

I've wondered what the Wayfarers have been about for some time now, none of them would ever give me a straight answer when I asked. It makes me nostalgic of home, of better days. I've watched too many people with good intentions harm innocents with their intentions. Or further divide outlanders from locals with their intentions. I don't believe there can truly be any victory in this world, not after learning about its true nature. I'm left with the impression that even if rulers were overthrown, new ones would simply take their place and oppress in their own way. That's not to say everything is hopeless, in the grand scheme most people are quite meaningless. There are ways to help without harming, but they are so subtle they are lost on most people. It's far easier to go and hunt vampires and werewolves and pretend you're making a difference. More vampires and more werewolves will come, I think the locals have the right idea in dealing with them. Ignore them, because in the end we cannot change that they rule the night. I cannot imagine the slaughter that would happen if an older vampire was agitated by outlander activities. I've seen their power, Karas was so kind as to piss them off.

Before Eugen demonstrated he was more interested in revenge than justice, I contemplated seeing if I could work with him to see if I could do anything to help curb reckless magic use. Warn him about people before they become problems, and do what I could to prevent it. I remember what brought the thoughts about, that necromancer cursed several garda to blindness. I remember feeling terrible at the thought of Livia fearing she could never have children, that they'd turn out caliban because of the curse. But none of this matters anymore. Even if I felt like pursuing this, it's impossible to work with the garda without being executed anyhow.

That case that happened recently comes to mind. A female drow, supposedly murdered and robbed by Morninglordians. Everything I've found on the case so far suggests it really did happen that way. The roles are switched. A drow, murdered and robbed by Morninglordians. It highlights the nature of the world perfectly. Not that I believe a drow would ever do anything good or wholesome like the Morninglordians typically are known for, but rather in the sense that the drow is the victim rather than criminal. What horrible creatures they are. And of course, Vasco likes them.

And then there was that druid Valkan was talking to. I almost burst out laughing as I listened to him ask for a book on demon names, to try and "combat the corruption" of the world. I won't enlighten him, ignorance gives him hope that he can do something.


In more pleasant news, Valkan is showing progress. He demonstrated that he does pay attention when people talk. Some fop of a sorcerer in his dainty caster frock couldn't answer a simple question. What spell circle can you cast to? Necromancy! No no, spell circle. I have a horrid wilting scroll but I doubt you could even use that. Necromancy!!! Oh dear, you don't understand do you. An aside, the curious behavior of weak mages to dress up as though they are ten times more powerful than they actually are. Further complicated by the bloodborn natural aversion to taking study seriously. I can only imagine his thought process, "Today I feel like skeletons!!! Arise, skeletons!!!"

But back to Valkan, I asked, my question made perfect sense, did it not? I commented, the sorcerer likely couldn't even cast to the third circle yet. And he agreed, and stated he hasn't seen as much as a fireball from the sorcerer! He was able to pick out a spell correctly! I inquired, in case it was simply by luck. He said he listens to Cael talk about his spells. Why Valkan, you are better at magic than the sorcerer already. It sounds like he's been playing the strings quite well recently too, I'm quite pleased with that. Something to keep an eye on.

I'm glad to hear Cael is fine. He seemed to have potential, I hope he figures out how to reign in his ability and do something with it, rather than let it consume him like many others have. The last time I saw him was that fateful night. On a hunch I went to the place where Zazel and I frequented for scrolls and magical things, seeing if I could find him there. Surely enough, there he was. Just like I was at one point. I helped him through it, picked locks and let him loot to his fill. He was there when it happened, there was a witness. I wondered if he was culled. I'm glad he wasn't.

[Norture]

Sitting here waiting. Will the visions return? Or did they simply tease tonight? The waiting is the hardest part. I don't know. I simply don't know.

I need to record it, but I don't want to even think about it. I don't even know how I held off on heaving for so long while I fled. It felt like both an instant and an eternity at once. Fleeing, the exit from the cliffs not coming soon enough. Yet I cannot quite remember escaping, running on pure instinct and panic. I ran into the forests below, and couldn't hold it anymore.

It was short. The nature of dream time was especially true here. In the vision, I felt hours play by. I remember the reality though, how vulnerable I was in reality, the attention I was trying to pay to my surroundings while it happened. It was just seconds. Seconds that were hours.







They forced food down my throat. Plate after plate.


I think of the butchered boy. Torn apart while still alive, until his body couldn't live past the brutality any further. Stewed.

I feel sick again. I don't want to see it. I don't want to see it.

[Norture]

To do list:
-Write terms and conditions for Duskrunner contracts
-Make advertisement posters
-Teach Valkan the trade

-Write report on Gentleman Caller
-Write hypothesis

-Make poster for Wayward Philosophers
-Make rules for Wayward Philosophers
-Transcribe books to keep in the Drain room
-Beat the stupid out of Dragos like I did Valkan
-Plan lessons and the like for members so they have clear benefits of being there.


The Duskrunners will be the easiest thing to get running. Valkan and Daryl are both intelligent and capable enough to help run it, once it is started it won't entirely be reliant on myself. I'll have to postpone stating the Wayward Philosophers for now, it will require dedication to do correctly. Any fledgeling mage I take in is going to require a lot of time, especially if I am to foster proper habits in them. I wish I had someone to start it with who could help. But whom? Possibly the best option is Anastacia, she is an actual researcher who stays in the Vallaki area. But everything would be reported to the Wayfarers, it would cause more problems than it would solve. Not to mention, I doubt she'd have anything to do with it. In time it will be sorted out, I simply cannot rush it.

[Norture]

[Zachary sat in a dusty basement, candlelight highlighting bookshelves surrounding him. On the table in front of him, papers strewn about. A few open folders, his own notebook, and a rather sizable book sat in the middle of the desk.

Zach mused to himself about the nature of the case. Then and there, an idea struck him. He quickly flipped through a folder that sat at the bottom of the pile, looking for a specific quote. And there it was, his question was in fact answered in a roundabout way. Well, this certainly changed the game entirely. The seeming disorganization now made sense in a new way.

He closed his eyes and thought to himself, "Where do I take this next?"]

[Norture]

[Zach scribbled a drawing on the page in front of him, deep in thought. Valkan was quite shaken by the current state of affairs, hopefully his chat with him was inspiring. It was nice using Absalom's pin for something positive. Valkan was rising up to meet the challenge, it filled Zach with a great sense of satisfaction. Zach saved his life for a reason, and this was it.

Things were dangerous, but in a familiar way. They carried a striking similarity to Dimitri's tests way back when Zach joined the Vardo, only with much higher stakes and increased difficulty. He had an idea of what was needed of him though, and that in itself was very reassuring. Perhaps more than anything else.

Then there was that whole issue of the Gentleman Caller wanting him "watched". Watched just like Anastacia's being watched. How odd it was, everything was both terrible, and yet better than ever. It was a moment of calm, time to plan his next move. Enough cards were dealt that he could begin playing his hand.

At the end of the day, the most satisfying thing of all was thinking back to Anastacia's fashionable outfit. What an amazing figure those heavy robes hide, what amazing thighs. Satisfied at his drawing, he examined it before tucking it away, and lurking off into the night once more.]

[Norture]

The spellbook, taken from Zachary's body, is placed on a dusty bookshelf. Lost among countless other books in Lord Balfour de Casteelle's collection.


The End.