Within the swirling Mist (IC) > Biographies



Day 7

The passage written is a smattering of thoughts upon a page in ink, from a steady flowing hand.
Battered. Bruised. Wild and confined, danger around every corner. How long had I yearned for adventure since my retirement years ago? No doubt Emil will be rather frustrated to learn my 'retirement' has not gone as he had hoped!

It is with an odd mix of dread and delight this passage finds it's way to paper at last. What wonder and thrill for an old man like this? Even so, it is not to be taken so lightly, one should utter.

The danger of this place is all too real, there are times when my hands shake in fear, and even anger. A Barovian had the gall to ask Bane to watch over me and mine; an unintended insult, I am sure.

I have started to learn many things. The alchemy of this place vastly differs from home. The herbs and poultices, while similar, are also stark enough that I find my knowledge and experience all but useless.

Good things, coin is fine enough to make for the adventurous. Vallaki is profitable, and I use the Grey City (as it's known) and Krofburg as a solid trade route. It also gives excuse to visit some fair company in a tavern high in the southern mountains, known as the Miner's Merriment. Were I ten years younger...

Ink notibly pools here as the quill is clearly held down as the author contemplates, and then a flick.

Life is short, and long. Early days, of yet for anything, but earning the trust of the locals through old-fashioned hard work and effort is truly rewarding.

I do wonder how my kin fair back in Faerun. I will continue to learn. Hopefully I need not get involved in useless politics to be helpful, and even more blessed would it be if I did not have to mind pups. Lady Flute's words on the Kinship were... rather amusing! And unsurprising. I recall when my friends and I, as we first formed the White Wings, were quite unruly and bickering.

Mystra guide me... Red Knight lead me.

Alen Amaphren of Cormyr

Day 10

It is odd that as I write this, I experience something that is alien to myself. Faerun had it's share of dangers, it's wonders, it's torments... but one as a mercenary I had never faced was homesickness. This soul had never known it till now, and suddenly my sympathies go to those around me who no doubt are even less at home on the road. Most are young pups, and it's worrying to see so few of sufficient age or maturity, but perhaps an old man grumbling about 'kids these days' is not suitable for this journal.

Dulkantza surprises me. She is stern, taciturn and cold at first glance. My first thought upon seeing her was that she would be a suitable employer for jobs to keep me out of trouble. I was correct. However, we had something of two peculiar outings this day as she strove to fulfil her duty as proprietress of the Miner's Merriment, to an alarming and warming level of duty. She goes above and beyond, for her loyal guests and customers, and is mindful of boundaries.

The other who works there, a young girl named Jusztina, works in other ways, more cunning and clever perhaps. She uses natural allure, charming tone and the power of suggestion to lull people to comfort, and into spending coin. It's impressive, though hardly works on an old fool as I. Amusing, however, that she still yet tries.

A faint sketch is done here of the pair at a bar, etched in charcoal and then coated carefully with wax to preserve it. It's not exactly detailed, as a broader shouldered woman points to a more feminine one, but besides basic shape there is no distinctive features of yet

As I write this my research grows, as does my access to magic. I've trained extensively with armor, and can now wear something a bit more defensive, and pass off as a warrior far easier now. As for casting in armor? Another matter... I suspect the answer lies in meta-magics, which is something that has been only barely hinted at in my nephew's notes.
I've been instructed to seek a few others for training and advice, and told of a tower... and a few other interesting things.

Many times now I've been recommended to the Kinship. Apparently one gives off the impression I'd belong there, but I fear I might simply grow weary of it nigh immediately if bickering is present. Supposing, I shall seek them out and meet the members, and decide from there.

Alen Amaphren of Cormyr

The scattering of notes seems to have been written more loosely in the darkness of a dim candle, as some of the lines slant slightly.

Day 12

Lectured a pup on how being a soldier really is. Seems they've been struggling on their own for a while, struggling to face what it means to be a soldier.
Grasping for air, for some judgement, suppose she needs someone who can bear it. Someone already too accustomed to what war really is.

Approached the Kinship today, about joining. They don't like the idea of secretive members which is folly, but it seems that they're closely allied with the Garda. Could prove a mild annoyance, but with fortune perhaps not all in the Garda see the fear in the arcane art. When one strategy doesn't suit, choose another. "Versatility is a tool of strategy".

Seems the Red Vardo group has been poking about south. There's also seemingly some sort of slave trade going on to the west. I'll investigate alone for a bit on the latter, and see if I can't find ways to break the chains without being caught. Old Dominic would buy a drink for me, then.

Some theatre group is trying to bring up either an old grudge or promote itself flamboyantly as a beacon of 'good'.
They do this not through proper means, however, simply slandering a business that might be a bit shady, but not unwholesome and only offering facts to those that seek them; this is a promotion tactic used by darker forces often, to tease a truth and then present only portion of it to win a recruit. War is hell, and hell is full of half-truths and lies.

Strategy guide, Stars protect.

Alen Amaphren of Cormyr

Day 14

I write this nigh on a week till what I remember to be Shieldmeet. There, I honor all the fallen who fell nameless about me on missions, faces I remember but never heard tell of family or kin, or friends. Many were guards, or fellow mercenaries, many were even civilians who rose higher above their station.
Some were mere casualties.
Some were heroes.
And all of them paid a price I had yet not.

While it's not a faith I follow strongly, I do pray Kelemvor has allowed those souls their rightful rests, their gracious places in the heavens as followers of their faiths. May they know that even in this Ravenloft place, I carry on the banner promised for the nameless few who begged to be remembered in their final moments as they withered or bled, as they singed and froze, as they succumbed to Myrkul's final call.

The company of the Merriment is ever a balm against the worst of these old scars, the bright and young Jusztina ever hopeful and optimistic, taking each day as she does and still yet chasing a dream, and the stalwart and diligent Dulkantza who's pragmatic approach is rather appealing and refreshing.
The truth has been revealed however, and soured a perfectly sweet wine; yet still partake I might, in the hopes of perhaps savoring a sweet one once action is taken against those who would spoil and otherwise fine place.

My research into both the arcane and slavers of this land is a little slow, but expanding my trade route will do me well. I have found a route I can make in a day with haste and hurry, from Krofburg to Berez, and back. A welcome distraction and chance to gather information.
A day or two I shall set aside for other pursuits.

As ever

Alen Amaphren, of Cormyr

Day 20

The cycles and the days have passed with work and efforts, I have learned and seen much and witnessed an overbearing dread and a sheer relief. Hope is a deadly but empowering double-edged blade and some foolish woman has drove it deep into my core.

I hope other pups aren't struggling as much, as I linger and muse about. I watch and I wait, never imposing unless necessary. A wounded woman in the street fascinated and chilled me as we spoke, truly a proponent of chaos if ever one could be called, yet poetic in her approach and her will to learn. Either she is a wonderful ally or a deadly enemy.

Of other note, I have visited many new places including that which is known as Berez and even another of the domains of this place, which reminded me a sincere amount of Suzail, my home. With nobles about, fancy gowns, and guards wandering the days there were spent learning the town and it's people and quickly realizing that it felt like a pale imitation designed to torture me. My homesickness grows.

I have met with the criminal known as Rhea the Wererat by chance. She revealed many things to me, as I invited her calmly to speak of her trials and ordeals that lead to the crimes listed for her bounty. She was hesitant at first and unsure, perhaps she worried I would judge her. In truth it is difficult to say whether she has spoken truth or not, but what I do know is that she will be a useful ally in one way or another.

Finally, I suppose I ought to write of the half-elven woman sleeping behind me in bed.

The ink pools here as the man seems to pause as to what to write, the quill struck and stuck, before a brief flick and a single word is written underneath.


Alen Amaphren, of Cormyr


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