Laerrigan's journal, part II

A new day by far
Strange, how things can change.  Sometimes with no fanfare whatsoever.  Nothing but uncomfortable self-honesty.  Going back to where I last left off in journal, a month or so ago...
       I returned to roof to inquire again as to why innkeep supposedly wanted cart on roof.  Dor reminded me that if I didn't know what was going on, I couldn't be held liable.  I chewed on that, and promptly went downstairs to place myself in common room in full view of innkeep, to render liability as small as possible for whatever may or may not take place out of my presence and knowledge in the next quarter-hour.  Someone from outside came in and mentioned to innkeep that something was hanging over roof's edge; innkeep ran outside, then ran back inside with look that meant death for whoever was up there.  I followed him upstairs, hopefully to prevent disaster of one sort or another.  Cart was on roof--in process of being dumped over low wall through startlingly inventive system of bedsheet tied to cart, tossed over side, and filled with more and more gravel and rocks to counterbalance--but halfling was not.  I followed innkeep back downstairs.  In our hall, cloaked figure with concealed face was just leaving our suite; he merely touched innkeep, and our collective debt instantly went up in smoke and shivered to ash.  Minorly impressive, but I wasn't in mindset to properly applaud; that unknown individual had just been in our locked rooms where my backpack lay unguarded.  Once again, I fired that ultraviolet blast instead of any spell, in knee-jerk reaction to that thought.  I was at least as surprised as my opponent looked.  In brief (and highly illogical in retrospect) confrontation, I was puzzled to note opponent's lack of lethal attacks, despite obvious capability and opportunity.  But something very cold--still haven't figured out what, and there was no summoning I could note--grabbed my shoulder from behind, and I must have simply fallen unconscious in that instant, because next awareness was of dark room and chains.  In and out of half-consciousness for unknown time, finally waking to stone-walled cell (proved to be under antimagic field) with Dor chained just far enough away to prevent our touching at farthest extent of chains.  Both stripped to waist.  Dor made obvious statement that I have wings.  No fear or violence toward tiefling, no anger over not knowing what he's been traveling with all this time.  But my boxes were gone, we were captives (three guesses whose dungeon it was, and first two don't count), and I had no idea of Podge's location or status.  I lay on floor, feeling grossly sorry for myself and disgusted with life in general, while Dor went about testing restraints and checking true extent of cell's inescapability.  Many days passed with no way to mark time but regular arrival of basic gruel for sustenance, and I slowly and torturously went mad, enclosed in small space with that individual.  May very well have tried in earnest to kill him, if I could've reached him.  I certainly tried hard enough to get to him.  First person to actually be halfway decent to me, and I wanted to kill him.  Because he can't hold still.  Great excuse for betrayal and murder.  Well, Illyrio appeared at cell door from time to time, wanting information about CW's whereabouts.  My recollection of most of our time in that cell is foggy at best, but obviously he couldn't get what he wanted because we didn't know anything.  CW had seen to that, and I'd counted it as hiding his true intentions because we were the ones he was plotting against.  For pity's sake, why wouldn't he have just taken what he wanted of our possessions?  We were alone with him--in truth, under his power--for days at a time on the way back to Baldur's Gate.  Interestingly enough, Illyrio never bothered with any persuasion beyond keeping us chained in that room together.  He probably knew I'd eventually tell him everything I knew, just to get away from Dor or perhaps be given the chance to kill him.  I probably would have.  Such is my loyalty under duress, apparently.  Time in that cell seems at once short (due to semi-catatonic state through much of it) and horrifically long (due to circumstances).  I was in the middle of trying desperately to reach Dor and inflict great harm when explosions and shouts sounded somewhere else in dungeon.  Dor hollered out to guide potential rescuers.  All I did was try harder to reach him in his distraction.  Our cell door soon burst open under efforts (if you can call it that) of very large warforged with very large axe, who was quickly followed by halfling-sized one and CW himself.  Chains were sheared through in a moment, and my instant and painfully predictable response was to dive for Dor's throat where he'd hidden behind CW.  CW managed to keep me from him, and suggested I save it until later; that had a nice ring to it, the notion of letting my target start thinking everything was fine and all was forgotten, so I went along, savoring half-formed thoughts of final vengeance when it would be least expected.  In my meager defense I can only say that it had been building up for close to a month by then, and the sudden cessation of the antimagic field had flooded me with Podge's unremitting violence at his own captivity.  Not much of an excuse, but I did call it meager.  We set out to figure an escape route; I managed to vent some small portion of long-pent-up violence on a couple mop-wielding kobolds we came across, but it was hardly satisfying.  Only glad I suffered lucid moment upon finding room full of armed orcs and goblins; before they could see us, I finally used spell (even after antimagic field lifted, was too unsettled and unstable to make attempt previously) and took guise of Illyrio.  Learned general location of Podge, and sent the lot of them up to palace's front door, supposedly to defend against CW's attack up there.  We found our belongings in that room after orcs left.  As expected, dragonhide boxes were gone from my pack, along with that amulet with the broken stone.  As we moved through halls afterward, I grabbed torch down for Dor; at that point, I very badly wanted to see the place go up in flames.  Came to large foyer on ground floor just as city guards burst in through front door.  CW & two warforged stayed to fight, and CW told us to get up the curving staircase to the second floor.  I wasn't about to protest; there were a lot of guards.  He got us out of there when we couldn't do anything for ourselves and he didn't even need us anymore, and I left him.  He could be dead or worse by now.  Dor and I got into upper room just as Illyrio and that still-concealed person from inn's hallway ducked out through portal of some sort in form of standing mirror.  I didn't notice at first, because small wooden box with airholes sat on table, shaking angrily.  Once again, I did something that was not magic by any definition I know--I think I said something--and the box burst apart in splinters.  Won't do that again with Podge inside; I had a ringing headache for the next hour or more, and he wasn't especially appreciative of my efforts after he regained full cognizance.  Guards poured into room then.  Dor ended up tumbling right through that mirror; seeing it as only recourse, I quickly followed him.  And ended up here.  "Here" is an abandoned guard tower, perhaps qualifying as a very small castle.  Back in our homeland, as evidenced by money and books found.  And surrounded by a monster of a blizzard.  We've holed up in a small room that used to be a bedroom; it's one of the few chambers without barred windows open to the weather, and it has a servicable fireplace.  There's plenty of flammable material around here, with all the wood and cloth as brittle as my current self-respect.  In our searching of the place, Dor found a very old, large book of Targaryen family history in High Valyrian.  Of course he couldn't read it and I seriously doubt he'd be the least bit interested in its contents anyway, but the fact still remains that he handed over something he'd found.  Said it was a birthday present, because he hadn't always been especially nice to me.  Having been around each other so long and in such an odd array of situations, I'd like to think I've developed enough discernment to tell when he's mocking, and I honestly don't think he was.  I don't even know what month I was born in, much less what day.  If Tammanath had any means of finding out, he never bothered, as far as I know.  And I suppose I never really wondered, at least no more than a passing realization that I was indeed ignorant of that tiny piece of information.  Even as I had no idea of why I have random black patches all over me and a white one in my hair.  Background was never much of an issue for me previously, perhaps because I never truly thought about it until suddenly finding myself living among strangers who have no such confusion over their own origins.  But Illyrio mentioned something about racial stock, back in the cell; he seemed to excuse my seething anger under captivity by linking it to a race with a "penchant" for such emotion and that also lent my odd coloring.  I was too bloody distracted by skittering thoughts of how to reach Dor--to say nothing of the timeless eternity of confinement that followed--and now I can't remember what he said.  Illyrio has my boxes AND he knows something about what I am.  I wonder if I'll ever have the chance to at least ask that thrice-damned self-important thief (MY boxes, not his!! [sigh at self] ) what he knows about me, much less recover those boxes.
       I can't recall ever having a birthday present before.

Day 4
Camping under the stars once again.  Hopefully not under snows before morning.  Blizzard lasted until some time last night, so this is the first day we've been able to travel.  Deep, broad moat around tower had interesting means of crossing: stepping-stone pillars just below surface of water, barely visible to one standing at ground level but easily spotted from tower top where we went to assess lay of land around us after storm.  Dor had to check bottom of moat for dropped treasure.  At least, he tried.  Nearly went into shock from cold before managing to jump back out of water.  Delayed our leaving a bit while he warmed back up in front of fireplace.  I wish he'd mention these impulses of his and seek some sort of counsel before following through on them--might save considerable wear and tear on him.  But we all have our quirks, I suppose.  I still wince at stupidity of standing in hall at inn and attacking hooded sneak face-to-face instead of dashing back up to roof.  Could have waited for him around corner.  Could have yanked off robe and vest and used wings to break fall from roof to courtyard; not much value in secrecy when life is in danger.  Might have been able to run from courtyard through inn's common room to front door and thence to street and used disguise spell to get lost in crowd.  So many possibilities, but all I saw was someone who might have seen or even stolen my boxes.  I'm better off without them.  Just wish I could know what was in them that whole time....

Day 6
Stopped alongside kingsroad (heading south) for restocking food supply, because we don't know how long it may be before we reach anything resembling civilization.  Haven't even passed other travelers.  Podge proved very useful at gathering rabbits from a warren, actually managing to drag each one out to where we could reach it despite his small size.  With local weather in mind, I'm doing my best at curing the four pelts for whatever insulation they may afford (hopefully to be later augmented by other innocent little bunnies).  Read about process many years ago; so far, seems to be going well.

Day 8
Arrived at very small hamlet--no more than bare residences for field workers--this morning.  Upon approaching inn (and I name it such only for lack of any better term), we were met by well-dressed and not exceptionally personable man with two bodyguards.  Said his daughter was missing and he'd pay us if we could bring her back.  Said all the locals were busy with the harvest and that strangers such as we could get into places where the familiar faces around here couldn't.  Only offered 500 gold as reward, and Dor couldn't get him to go any higher; Master Snob doesn't consider one of his several daughters to be worth all that terribly much, certainly not as much as one of his sons.  One might think missing girl had reason for going AWOL.  None of my concern.  Tammanath most likely wouldn't have offered even that if I'd gone missing, so long as he was sure I'd taken nothing valuable with me.  Dor couldn't resist promise of money, however paltry for what might be involved, and I must admit to some degree of curiosity over truth of matter.  If investigation becomes too burdensome for meager compensation, we can always go elsewhere and forget about it.  Unrelated note--must remember to seek materials for identify spell, to figure out what that wand does that Dor picked up back in Illyrio's mansion in Baldur's Gate.  Last thing we need is that halfling experimenting blindly with it.  I seriously doubt anyone here would have a pearl, in a place where a single copper buys a bed for the night and all the ale and food one can consume in that time.  Suddenly 500 gold doesn't seem so paltry after all.  Some of the men here would likely sell one of their legs--possibly both, and probably an eye as well--to get hold of that much.  Gallavanting about strange lands has strange effects on one's perspective.  Must be careful to hide full amount of money we're carrying, or might have to deal unpleasantly with desperate folk on dark nights.

Day 9
Heading southward toward larger town where broader array of supplies can be found.  This weather ("light summer snows"...) is going to require some additional precautions on our part for any extensive travel.  Fortunately we'll only have to spend this one night on the trail before reaching town; gathering clouds look ominous.  Bits of info:  dire wolves are fairly common around here (we fought one out of inn's common room early this morning, after I failed to remember to lower bar on door before going to sleep, but I think the inkeep bought my explanation of how some of them are psionic and can unlock doors), and whispered rumor is that "the dead walk."  I told inkeep that yes, they do that quite a bit, I've found, but he was unable to give any more detailed account, only some kind of undead creatures passing southward now and then.  I do forget sometimes how unusual and even hair-raising that can be for most people.  Curious development--Dor was struck by lightning.  Indoors.  Magic, of course, but no caster to be found.  Left large charred patch on floor and ceiling, singed clothes beyond recognition, and burned up large portion of gear in backpack (as well as pack itself).  Luckily he had healing potion left from CW (may he still be alive).  Wand survived, though.  I thought at first perhaps his odd and unpredictable influence on fire was a broader talent than previously realized and had simply backfired with involuntary use.  Then I started to wonder about that wand.  Moderate enchantment aura; can't determine any more without identify spell.  Nice achievement just to tell that much without casting detect magic.  Certainly not that bloody experienced in discernment; maybe new, extra sense to go along with vision through my own darkness.  And unknown non-spell blast.  And breaking of box around Podge.  Good thing Tammanath is no longer around, would probably find dissection irresistable at this point, and however malfunctional at times, I do still have some use for my brain....I wonder how the tower is doing, if anyone has managed to find it and get past guarding spells.  We're obviously far north of familiar area, but that won't last forever if we keep going southward.  Could Dor be trusted in such a place?  I saw him in CW's wagon...Blast it all, must make some effort at locating missing girl before heading that way.  Small but stubborn insistence growing in me.  Just because my own absence would have gone largely unremarked is no excuse for consigning another to potentially horrible fate.  So long as returning home wouldn't prove worse for her.

Day 11
Currently in temple in town.  Dor ate butterflies--lots of them--and now he's purple.  Only thing two facts have in common is wand of wonders.  Had heard of rod of wonders--this is smaller version.  Triggered by multiple command words, amazingly enough, and at least two of them are some of Dor's favorite words ("Hi!" and "Hello!").  He seemed confused at priest's explanation after identifying.  I helped him with a demonstration, by making him say "hi" while he held the wand.  I hate myself.  At least it wasn't lightning again, because I'd hate myself more.  Got very drunk last night.  Me, this time.  We'd had word of CW passing through town not long ago.  Dor wants to find him.  I'd hoped I'd just die before morning and get it over with.  Didn't work.  Blasted halfling used that hangover-removing potion on me while I couldn't move this morning, and that made things considerably less simple.  Rediscovered thrice-damned survival instinct (read "cowardice").  Maybe dire wolves and various undead will attack while we're here and actually manage to overcome it for me against my stupid struggles.  More likely I'll just break and disappear, leaving everyone else to face the things.  Our room at inn is burned, possibly more of building as well--haven't looked out into street to check.  We may be wanted men by now.  I was feeling both whimsical and self-destructive upon getting up and around after potion--very bad combination.  Dor systematically disassembled broken chair in room and was tossing pieces out window, after using potion.  I suggested he wait and aim better so as to actually hit someone passing below instead of wasting the ammo.  And why not light it as well, before dropping it?  Lamp oil everywhere, and room caught in addition to chair wood.  I think I had some vague notion of turning myself in to innkeep for it, but I already mentioned reawakening of stupid, persistent, people-abandoning survival instinct.  Ended up making lame apologies and leaving quickly with Dor while innkeep was still in frantic horror.  We returned to temple after that, where we left wand yesterday for identification, and learned what it does.  Also yesterday, I actually hit Dor with that ultraviolet blast, knee-jerk reaction when he climbed up me and snatched back the wand I'd gone to all the trouble of grabbing from him in the first place so I could examine it.  Got a small but effective fist in the face for it.  He says it's all out of his system now and we're even.  I'd still watch him carefully for next few days if I actually cared at this point.  Maybe I'll unleash that blast at some bystander without meaning to, and get thrown in jail.  Maybe executed.  Sounds like a nice change.  Take that, cowardice.  Maybe it'd be more likely if I got drunk again.
       ---Later same day (early night, actually)....Taking brief rest in woods before moving closer to what could be bandit camp.  Podge scouted and evinced disgust at something near his farthest point of venture--I can only assume it was a nasty smell, as I can't think of much else that would disgust him.  Dor thinks it might be large, unwashed robbers in their hideout.  Why not?  We're hoping to find some of the bandits (whose numbers are reportedly on the increase), and thus perhaps find some clue as to the whereabouts of that missing girl (everyone seems to think she must have been taken by bandits), who we've learned to be barely fifteen years of age.  This information was gleaned by Dor's questions, owing nothing to my moping about in self-pity.  I don't recall most of what happened while I was trailing him as he ran around town, tracing leads.  I did manage not to do anything to get thrown in jail.  But I suppose that could be expected.  I do remember that Dor has really latched onto that wand as an ongoing prank, handing it to other people and causing them to trigger it.  I'd swear his mother had a fling with a gnome.  Once out of town, he set about pestering and prodding me, wanting me to try firing that unnamed blast at a tree or something to test if I could do it voluntarily.  His pestering involved repeatedly, continuously punching my leg while hollering at me to try it.  The tree hadn't done anything to me, so I fired at Dor instead.  Not the least bit sorry, this time.  Missed, though.  Out of a vague, vestigial stirring of morbid curiosity, I did aim at the tree, then, several times--much easier to hit than dodging halfling, but not a lot of effect.  Apparently I can fire at will.  I'd suppose that does raise the possibility of not firing at will.  At any rate, experiment managed to drag me out of whatever one might call that period of distracted gloom.  Mostly.  For being raised with long thought and study, I'm proving to be absurdly reactive in the outside world.  Dor seems excited about fact that he's never seen anyone fire a blast like that before, whatever it is.  One might wonder (sardonically) just how terribly experienced he is when it comes to observing casters of any sort.  But I've never even heard of anything like it, myself.  Cleric at temple in town knew surprisingly little about tieflings in general beyond basic concept (though at least he seemed to recognize fact that not all are eat-your-eyeball-as-you-scream evil), so I still can't be sure this isn't some lesser-known ability that goes with the blood.  I very nearly pulled my headband off just to see cleric's reaction, but managed to restrain myself.  "Unholy offspring," my spotted arse.  What's "unholy" is the attitudes one meets because of factors over which one has no control.  Maybe I'll just bite the throat of the next person who makes frightened and/or uneducated assumptions--"Oh, sorry, it's that dratted heritage coming through again, making me violent without cause...I'll just slink back to the the seventh hell now, find some kittens to eat, torture a few orphans before bed..."

Day 12
Traveling with small group of "bandits"--they call themselves wildlings, and apparently they get by at least as much by scraping a bare living from the land as by robbing anyone.  They say they're from way up north beyond the wall, moving southward now because of the growing numbers of undead up there.  I wonder if they realize they're going the same direction as those undead, down in the rest of the land.  At any rate, one of this little band has gone off on his own to reach someone who knows more about the missing girl--Alys--and is free to talk about the matter.  The ones we've happened upon in the woods gave their word not to compromise her and/or her abductor/rescuer, and they seem to put great stock in that sort of thing.  While we wait for contact with this other person, we're traveling a certain number of hours each day with the wildlings, in a different direction each day, forming a circuit.  Not sure if they always follow such a circuit--not very smart if they're trying to avoid local authorities as they say--or if they're doing it only so they can keep moving while still allowing their missing companion to know where to find them when he returns.  Podge located a wild boar this evening, and a few of us managed to kill the thing, so at least these people will get a decent meal or two.  Their pitiful state makes me overly-conscious of my own fair store of rations.  And insulated clothes, and heavy blanket.  And probably more money than they've ever seen in one place.  Never really knew people lived like this.  I mean, I saw beggars here and there when I went to town to get supplies for the tower, but I suppose one doesn't really think about them while just passing by.  These people are certainly not beggars--I get the impression they'd despise the very notion of begging--but still....Distinctly uncomfortable situation.  Never before thought of myself as terribly well-off.  They say they don't have much in the way of marriage where they come from.  Children grow up never knowing their father.  Blast it, why should I care?  I never knew either parent, and turned out fine.  At least these people had mothers, not just eight words on a scrap of paper.

Day 13
Came across dead wildlings in woods.  Our guide pro tem burned them.  He admitted to not knowing whether they might reanimate if each was separated into many small pieces and scattered--or if each piece was run through a meat grinder, though unfortunately we had none handy--and he BURNED them before finding out.  I must be cursed to attract incurious incendiaries.  Felt definite chill in area of slaughter, and guide strongly suggested leaving area to camp a good distance away.  So we're camped.  Dor volunteered me for first watch.  It's great to have friends.  Later same night---My watch is OVER, blast it all.  A huge patch of 10-ft-tall grass is grown and burned, the two women in our group are dead from the fire, Dor actually evaded the lightning brought by that wand this time, and the new addition to our traveling group got hit instead.  New man (Viktor) looks harmless enough, which is all the more cause for suspicion.  Says he wants to go south, yet he wants to stick with us as we go north.  No telling what he might have done if he'd managed to sneak up on camp, but Podge noticed him a goodly way off.  My watch may be over--I will strangle in his sleep anyone who says otherwise right now, especially if my hands fit easily around his little neck--but I don't think I'll be getting to sleep any time soon, as I seem to be the only one who notices anything at all odd about human sneaking up on camp in middle of night and then claiming to want to join our travel in the wrong direction.

Day 14
Continued along route northward, came upon our destination in late morning.  Orcs had taken over small sheltering cave and were engaged in cooking large pot of stew out front.  For no real reason I can claim--sort of like urging Dor to greater efforts with broken chair pieces at that last inn--I stepped out into open and started talking to them, with vague notions of getting information on current situation and/or providing minor distraction for Dor, Viktor, and our guide to gain some advantage.  Felt BLOODY WELL ALONE out there--they can make their own distractions in future.  Except our guide, who was casualty of that encounter.  Orcs alone would have been annoying, but troll squeezed out of cave mouth at sound of voices outside--he wanted more food, and the last of our original wildling band became so by time remaining orcs and troll left us.  When guide was badly wounded but not yet dead, Dor did try ploy that might have saved guide (or at least killed several orcs at once)--throwing wand to nearest orc and challenging him to break the obviously-weak thing, with our guide's life riding on the outcome--but orc was either too savvy or too stupid and simply kept the wand.  Might have been fun to see the thing break and take out enemies with explosion.  I'd rather not have it with us in the first place, as my luck in avoiding its effects will break in a very big way sooner or later.  At any rate, must note here that that absurd halfling most surely saved my life today.  At least it wasn't saved by my running away to let others face enemies, this time.  Healing potion left over from travel with CW was also huge help, once Dor had taken care of attackers that I couldn't seem to fight effectively in those moments.  Wings are just rather sore, now, barely knit back together after bones were surely cut through--wish there was any way I could fold them under concealment without crossing over torso, because that seems to be most frequent target for nasty weapons.  They've taken more damage since that initial fight; Dor had to have his "greeting stick" back, so we followed our remaining opponents through woods to new campsite.  Podge scouted this one before we came in sight, and reported troll, a few orcs, and two (apparently living) humans tied up.  Dor disappeared into underbrush on way toward side of camp where prisoners were tied; I winced and circled to opposite side, rapidly working out strategies for survival if another distraction should be needed.  Darkness appeared over camp as troll played with wand while our former guide was roasted in the jacket over new campfire in center of clearing.  I'm still not entirely sure why it works, but this time I was able to deliberately force my eyes to see through that darkness, at least for a short way.  Right about same time, girl prisoner started making hysterical sounds as Dor began trying to free her; I took cue and made noises of my own.  Succeded in drawing two orcs toward me.  Began wondering just what in the Nine Hells I was doing.  Managed to shoot one with crossbow before they emerged from darkness and caught sight of me.  Then it was the first battle all over again.  Loud noises across darkness from me were all I could know of how others were doing--troll said "hello" with great relish a couple times, presumably using that unpredictable wand--and I quickly chose better part of valor because I had no potions left.  Dor appeared, dragging unconscious girl away from camp, and Viktor ran toward me only to be whacked by troll and fall unconscious.  I snagged his collar in passing and somehow got away from troll, surely only because of speed enhancement (and perhaps troll's desire to just be rid of us and return to his meal).  So now we're back at small cave, which contains several bedrolls and warm furs from wildlings who inhabited it before orcs.  Large pot of stew sits out front; I really don't care who's in it, because it surely isn't anyone I know, and we're running out of trail food.  Cooked is cooked.  We have new mouth to feed, too, though I'd imagine she'll have objections to eating her own kind.  I guess I can give her some of my little remaining store of trail food.  Dor says the other prisoner at that camp was a wildling man, already nearly out cold from beatings.  I would've felt a little better about being such a deadly jinx to these people if we'd managed to rescue him too, but Dor and Viktor certainly made the right call in all the confusion, choosing the one we'd come for in the first place (this girl matches descriptions).  Had to leave other prisoner behind in order to escape with this one.  And I am very, very tired now.  Can't possibly sleep with wings in this condition and bunched up under clothes; have to let them out and hope Viktor doesn't have any objections when he wakes up.  Blast it all, I could have left him where he fell, so he'd better not have any bothersome prejudices at this point.  Should surely post watches tonight, but I don't think any of us is in much shape to do so.  Except Podge.  I'll have him curl up outside near cave mouth.  That's something, anyway.

Day 15
Currently camped back at spot where we first met wildlings, heading for civilization once more.  Alys is with us.  Dor got her sordid story out of her, and now I'm slated for what could be a very difficult and nervous time ahead, all in the interest of saving her much unpleasantness and gaining us much money.  She did indeed run away from home voluntarily, for the purpose of eloping with Eric, the young wildling who was tied beside her and who now is surely being digested by a troll.  If returned to her home, she will be married off to "a horrible old man" with a title and great wealth who is basically buying her off of her father (Lord Barros, as I don't believe I've noted his name before).  My original brilliant plan fell through when I consulted my spellbook more closely and found my disguise spell only works on myself.  The price of absentmindedness.  Now I'm stuck with the job of main character instead of silently-lurking support role, though Dor would have fared much better in center stage.  Somehow we're going to figure a way to quietly send this wealthy man off to a better place and put me--disguised as him--at that altar with Alys in three weeks.  Then we make sure everything is written up and legally binding for her to be sole heir to the estate and self-determining in her future.  Then I disappear as quickly and quietly as inhumanly possible.  With a heavy load of various valuable items.  We'll just pretend for now that it will go that smoothly.  The whole "creepy winged monster" thing seems to scare her, so hopefully she won't get any strange adolescent ideas about ramifications of the farcical wedding.  I'm doing this as her destined fiance for the sake of witnesses, not as me, and I'm certainly not about to make any commitments at this point in time, nor would I take advantage of a temporary formality that I don't intend to stick with.  Had enough of abandonment, thank you, don't want to spread the joy any further.  Great bloody blazes--will her new husband disappearing without a trace be counted as treason on his part, running away from responsibility to the crown, and thus rob her of assets that should rightfully be hers in his absence?  Or even put her into danger as a suspected conspirer?  I HATE politics!

Day 16
Back in town from which we set out in search of bandits.  Priest or whatever was able to change Dor back to normal color.  Turns out that this temple is where Alys is to be married.  Rich fogey (properly, Lord Reddling, but when have I ever been proper?) has estate about a week southwest of here, with his home somewhere in those lands.  We've resupplied and plan to spend rest of today just lounging about before heading back to open road tomorrow to scout prospects in RF's demesnes.  I'm wondering more and more about advisability of this whole venture.  My disguise spell will only last for half-hour or so once cast.  I can prepare it multiple times, but must have seclusion for re-casting without drawing attention.  How long is wedding ceremony?  What if someone brushes against me and realizes touch doesn't match sight?  I don't want to die just to keep some spoiled girl from being married off.  My wingfingers were SHEARED THROUGH in that first fight with orcs a couple days ago, and I would have been dead if not for Dor.  Why did I have to open my mouth when we learned of Alys' situation?

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Day 1 on this insane venture
Left town as planned, midday.  Now night, camping by road on way back to tiny plantation hamlet where we first encountered Alys' father.  Will continue from there to her home.  Basic plan is to return her, get the reward, learn details of wedding plans, and then find some way to replace her groom with Dor, who will be using a scroll for alter self (if I can make 'em, may as well do so, especially since Dor WANTS to be centerstage) with several in reserve.  Possibly one or two for invisibility as well, just in case.

Day 2
Alys overheard us talking and learned contents of that stew back in the cave.  Prestidigitation cleaned me up nicely from her inadvertant reaction to the knowledge.  Tried wiping myself off first with Dor (who had managed to avoid blast), but gave in to threats and used spell for him too after sullying him.  And I was the one saying we shouldn't talk about it in her company...Such is justice.

Day 3
Reached Lord Baros' keep, now staying night in guest house inside enciente wall.  Must remember to pester Dor for my half of that reward.  Out of Viktor's hearing, because he probably wouldn't agree with simple logic that he hadn't been one to sign on for the rescue, he merely stumbled upon us on our way to find Alys and lent his aid without expecting any pay.  He's lucky we let him travel with us, knowing nothing about him.  And I risked my own escape to snag him and drag him from that troll's presence.  Greedy, ungrateful humans.  Viktor is currently sampling (extensively) wine and ale provided in guest house, getting more than a bit tipsy by now.  Dor left some time ago, probably for snooping.  Hope he doesn't get killed.  Should have given Podge some touch-spell and sent him along for extra insurance in effecting an escape if necessary.  Oh well, didn't think of it in time.  Meanwhile, some amusement can be found in sending Podge out, carrying a light spell, to find some unsuspecting stableboy in this place where everyone seems just a bit edgy about magic.  Caught sounds of stableboy falling and hollering as his boot inexplicably lit up.  One must stay in practice with magic, after all.  I think I'll go to bed now.

Day 6
Back in town without mishap.  For now, at least.  Dor did produce some odd "gifts" after his night of snooping at the Baros estate--Viktor now has very long, tassled nightcap and I have one member of a pair of highly-decorated slippers, both items suspiciously expensive-looking and certainly nothing Dor would ever pick up in any legitimate way.  I wonder when we'll be pursued.  I know Dor too well to imagine those items coming from some closet where no one will miss them.  Can just picture Baros snoring peacefully in bed, unaware of flaming death in miniature smiling at him and deftly removing nightcap from his head.  As I write this, Dor and Viktor are out cold after their celebration of our return to town.  When they wake up, they will find themselves in bedroom of Betty the Buyable Barmaid.  I paid her not to do any of her usual, merely to make them think she had when they waken, and to make situation look as strange as possible.  Last time Viktor passed out from drink was at Baros keep, and he woke with "magic rune" on his forehead, supposedly put there by incubus in night and imbuing Viktor with irresistable charm to women's eyes.  He seemed to believe it, but regrettably never made any overt attempts at using it before it started to wear off.  Had to come up with something to do to him this time that wouldn't be quite so subtle, as he doesn't seem to be exceptionally subtle person.  Including Dor in this one was bonus.

Day 7
I don't understand that halfling.  Never have, really, but such a note seems especially appropriate at this time.  He seemed relatively unphased by waking experience, if slightly puzzled.  Honestly can't be sure if he's that clueless--he's been out in the world a lot longer than I have, and even I have some basic idea of what Betty sells, if admittedly little detail.  But he seems to think she just wanted a conversation partner or something, and she just happens to have weird tastes involving putting her friends into diapers while they're unconscious.  I made a few attempts at driving the failing humor home, and got attacked for my efforts by halfling flying across table.  Stabbing him with fork at that point was probably bad idea, but survival instinct occasionally prompts counter-attack when flight becomes impossible and freezing like rabbit appears outright counterproductive.  I've seen too much of what can result when he gets riled up, and must admit to sudden mindless self-defense in that instant.  Quickly lost whatever limping, undead tatters of dignity may have been clinging to me, upon being forked in turn and far too easily trussed in rope.  Podge managed to sneak up and bite Dor's ear, but only got throttled and added to bundle.  Scary thing is I think I might have meant it--at least at the moment--when I told Dor I'd kill him if he hurt Podge.  As usual, hadn't wanted to try magic previously in struggle because I didn't want to do serious damage (and because of reluctance from growing up with one who could outdo me without effort if I ever tried to bring magic into the picture), but sudden flash of frantic concern for Podge changed everything.  Must leave him out of stupid scuffles with beanhead in future.  Too much at stake on more than one level, nothing good to come of it.  At any rate, soon wriggled free of hasty knots.  Viktor had already won bet on Dor; breakfast patronage of common room had made way for combatants but otherwise remained unaffected.  Used to it, I suppose.  Dor was smugly magnanimous about another easy victory, and demanded to know what I'd had to do with their situation upon waking this morning.  And, appropriately for a lifelong loser, I told him because I didn't want to go through the last few minutes again.  Don't know why I avoid repeats (at least immediate ones)--not really anything left to lose.  But then he sat there and explained exactly how the whole setup had misfired because of my handling of it this morning, not because of anything about the idea or execution of it.  And that he hadn't attacked because of the prank itself, but because of that mishandling this morning.  Apparently I belabored it too much, on top of not confessing to it once it was over and he was suspicious.  Well, I'm nothing if not accomplished in learning through humiliating experiences--lifelong practice.  Take note and handle things differently next time.  New experience, however, actually having any sort of explanation instead of bawdy laughter and sneers and lurking threat of being knocked down again just for giggles at unexpected moment.  Also rare to have honest, straightforward talk of any sort from Dor.  Painfully correct assessment, when he stated how easily he could have taken me out permanently when I was tied or simply let orc deliver final blow in battle with troll.  Just not at all accustomed to anything that could be called friend, still keep uncovering impulse in myself to knock associate over from behind and kick him while he's down before he inevitably does the same to me.  Blame it on Tammanath.  And probably stupid fiend heritage as well--may never be entirely rid of it.  Certainly couldn't blame Dor for getting fed up and just heading elsewhere in the night from situation that doesn't promise much improvement.  Sometimes wish I could, but situation would only follow.  Dor made full frontal assault.  And didn't kick.  Sometimes wish I wasn't violently averse to hugging people.  And that I wouldn't scare them if I tried.

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Day 1 in Reddling land
Not sure when we crossed into territory of Lord Reddling (Alys' unwanted groom), but we should be getting very close to his main town by now, hopefully reach it in next day.  Nothing noteworthy has happened in past week and a half or so on road.  Getting lazy about journaling.  Currently paused in day-camp for hunting, as trail food has dwindled and we've learned to make some provision for unforseen complexities (such as falling through mirror in mansion and ending up stranded in ancient tower in nasty blizzard for a few days--what are chances of it happening again? but no sense in not learning from it anyway).  Others are hunting, anyway--I sent Podge with Dor, carrying defensive spell just in case (Podge didn't object, he has inexplicable liking for that halfling), because I didn't feel like traipsing through woods just now.  Spoiled by relatively easy road these past couple weeks.  Now, after they've been gone for short while, Podge is feeling suspiciously excited and aggressive...Hopefully sign they've found game, not threat.  Hard to tell difference.  Stupid weasel doesn't know what fear is.  ---Later in afternoon, now.  Threat instead of prey.  Always hated spiders, starting to hate bugs in general.  Wasps nearly size of horses.  More than a dozen.  Dor and Viktor are nicely swollen-up, not moving too well--passed out in bedrolls upon returning to camp.  I somehow avoided getting stung, but then I was among the things for a lot less time, and managed to temporarily blind them with pyrotechnic magic before engaging directly.  Also had chance to place mage armor before wading in.  Dor had sent Podge scrambling back to camp to get me because they couldn't outrun the wasps.  Forewarning is a wonderful thing, far too rare in travel experience thus far.  Fortunately, was able to get healing potion to Dor in time, which allowed him to retreat just far enough to use one of those healing scrolls and then dive back in to kill bugs.  After reaching camp later, Dor said he'd realized he had food left in his pack after all and so hadn't actually needed to go hunting.  Figures.  Now that danger is gone and companions asleep, I think I'll send Podge out to round up another innocent bunny for some fresh meat.  Maybe it will have enough fat to fry some hardtack alongside meat.  Tough trail food probably won't sound very good when they wake up sore.

Day 2
Reached town midday, with Dor and Viktor in considerably better shape after plenty of rest.  I used disguise spell for entering town in hopes of being slightly less easily-described, but may as well have not bothered because I can't keep it up indefinitely, nor can I hide in room at inn.  So much for attempt at subtlety in this whole blasted affair.  Lord Reddling himself burst into common room shortly after our arrival there, announcing his upcoming wedding and buying a round for the whole house in celebration.  A bit of a forceful presence, that one.  And surrounded by a handful of bodyguards whom he's known personally for a long time, and who are totally loyal to him.  And very watchful.  Reddling gladly played Dor in coppers, losing terribly and seeming quite happy to swill large amounts of whatever the barkeep had given him.  Dor's questioning uncovered fact that Alys is to arrive by carriage in three days, and there's going to be a big party to celebrate the wedding and everyone's invited.  So now we're set up in a room at the inn, trying to work out the finer details of our rather coarse notions of kill-and-deceive.  Haven't come up with anything flawlessly workable, only that tomorrow we'll all approach the keep's wall and Dor will use one of my invisibility scrolls and try to squeeze through the portcullis to gather inside information.  Must admit, I've never before tried to plan out anyone's deliberate murder.  Odd feeling if I let myself think about it.  What sort of person is this lord, anyhow?  Will anyone truly miss him?  What impact will his demise have on this town and its inhabitants, on the fife, on the whole bloody kingdom?  And really, what will happen to Alys if there's even the faintest possibility that she could have been the culprit or at least an accessory?  And, getting to the heart of the matter, what could happen to us...?  Reddling outfaced Dor, making him think he was so horrible at coppers and then idly tossing a coin into the mug from half across the room before leaving.  Does he suspect something?  Was that meant as some obscure warning or deterrent?  ---We've decided to try to get Dor inside tonight instead of tomorrow.  Will take note of results when he returns.  I've covered him with mage armor just in case, and made him faster, though that won't last very long.  He hesitated and refused to take Podge as added insurance, saying he'd probably be doing a lot of jumping and falling and rolling and wouldn't want to chance hurting him.  Must admit it wasn't much struggle for me to accept that and keep him with me instead, just felt need to offer.  Leaving inn for gate, now.

Day 3
As we walk, I'm taking note of events since last entry.  Dor got into keep with no problem last night, using scroll of invisibility to pass guards at portcullis and slip through open courtyard.  Took most of night in his scouting, greatly tiring me because I felt need to hang around gate in case of some emergency--after a while, Viktor went back to inn and to bed, but I couldn't.  Stable in courtyard caught fire soon after Dor's entry.  Predictable.  Viktor and I stood at portcullis and threw rocks at it (and at people trying to douse it), supposedly to help try to put out fire.  Viktor was drunk enough that he might have actually believed it would help.  I just found it to be fun, throwing rocks without much likelihood for unpleasant repercussions.  We all have to get our kicks somehow.  Man quickly emerged and frosted large fire out of existence with single spell (far beyond what I could manage at moment), quite offhandedly, then puttered back indoors, muttering to self.  Several hours later, Dor came back out through gate in guise of that wizard.  I didn't recognize him, of course, and slunk behind building to avoid notice, but he obviously saw anyway and tried to pursue without appearing too out-of-character to guards watching from gate.  I stayed away from him (still not realizing use of alter self scroll), not trusting more powerful wizard, until hidden meaning in his calls finally registered.  Then he made mistake.  I approached to find out how things had gone, and he suddenly declared triumphantly that he'd fooled me.  I flung that purple blast at perceived enemy, missed in haste (wish I hadn't), and dropped darkness globe at my feet to cover high-speed retreat.  Dodged down streets and alleys and finally climbed up on thatched roof to lie low and watch and listen.  And think, figuring I now had friend captive and possibly under interrogation inside guarded keep and under more powerful caster's guard.  Finally went back to inn to consult with Viktor, hoping to find him sober enough to be of any use in this.  Found end of that wizard's cloak caught under closed door of our room.  Probed room ahead with detect thoughts, found only sleeping Viktor and wakeful Dor.  Made a few mental connections.  Had Podge lure Dor out of room by scrabbling at door and at window (took absurdly long time to wake him from new sleep and convince him there must be some emergency), and then Dor took off on some harebrained interpretation of what Podge was trying to tell him.  Podge was only trying to get him to enter unoccupied room next door (where I was hiding with large pillow in darkness), but he somehow got idea I was buried under wood somewhere nearby in direction Podge was facing.  So he ran around behind inn to start digging under woodpiles.  I went into our room and lay down as if asleep.  Eventually Dor returned.  Must have seen my slitted eyes, because whole sneaky, acrobatic sequence that followed would otherwise have been avoided.  A few minutes after Dor went to bed as if oblivious, his blanket-covered form seemed to catch fire for no apparent reason.  No longer disbelieving of any fire where he's concerned, I jumped up and hit small flame with frost spell, only to find burning figure was no more than bedroll stuffed under blanket (how he managed that with me watching is another matter entirely).  Knowing in that instant what was surely coming, I jumped up onto bed and turned to face room like treed raccoon.  Over next several minutes, my bed (middle one) was pulled out from wall to clear space so sneaky beanhead couldn't slink around under all three, I was hit twice with water sprayed from waterskin, I stumbled upon some unknown spell that somehow made Dor pass out while he hid under bed, and Dor wound up back in his own bed with neatly arranged blankets, soaked from head to toe on a dry bed.  Viktor never even woke up.  Bloody good thing there wasn't midnight emergency of friend captured and held in enemy keep after all....I swear, if that blasted human is passed out drunk some time when he's needed, I'm tying him up and leaving him behind.  I just pegged him in back of head with pebble as we walk down road.  Minorly satisfying.  Doesn't even know where rock came from.  Anyhow, we're currently walking away from town to meet Alys' carriage as it approaches.  Trying to work out tactics and contingencies as we go, with halfling sneaking punches at random travelers' legs in passing just for giggles and Viktor still wool-headed from his morning drinks (you know, as a buffer against solid food).  Why do I bother?
       Late afternoon, now---We met Alys' carriage.  Walked with it for a little way (only had four men accompanying it, but it would reach town before dark and we couldn't figure out how to lead them out of sight of road), when bandits (wildlings?) attacked from woods crowding close by road.  Probably good thing for their arrival, because it instantly precipitated all our half-formed plans.  I think we really do work best with as little planning as possible.  I cast darkness on dagger and flung it at back of carriage as drivers whipped horses to try to outrun bandits--of course, carriage stopped, and two guards and two drivers got down to face attackers at perimeter of darkened area.  Dor and I ran up to carriage only to find Lord Barros inside with his daughter.  That missing slipper of his came in handy, as we were able to show it and convince him that he could trust us because we hadn't killed him when we had the chance--he sent Alys with us so we could get her to safety while the fight commenced around us.  I'd placed armor spells on all three of us before we joined carriage on road, so I shucked coat and vest and wrapped my wings around Alys as shields while I carried her (had to use good old expeditious retreat on myself just to get normal speed for running while carrying her, as her idea of running is more like flouncing through a garden).  Despite having seen my wings before (and presumably gotten over the fright back then), Alys shrieked and shrieked about them, until I finally had to waste another spell on putting her to sleep to spare my ears, to say nothing of making us slightly less easily followed without all that racket.  Dor and Viktor stayed behind alongside carriage guards to help keep bandits engaged while we escaped.  So now I'm hidden a little way off road with object of all this bother, waiting for them to finish and catch up.  Alys is still asleep, thankfully, though spell will be wearing off soon.  Just glad my shorthand allows me to write so much in so little time.  Might have to gag her to keep our hiding place secret.  Have my wings hidden once more, but doubt that will help.  We save her from being eaten by a troll and promise to make sure she doesn't have to marry this older lord, her own father tells her to go with us to safety, I risk my own life and do what I can to shield her with myself in order to get her to that theoretical safety, and all she does is scream in horror about being forced to touch my wings.  If I didn't feel some entirely unreasonable responsibility for her, I'd leave her here and find the others and go somewhere far away from noble marriages and spoiled little girls.  Still tempted to do so.  Inconvenience and outright danger are rising to approach balance with promise of monetary gain.  Are wings really that blasted horrific to normal humans?  Maybe I should just stop covering them, so people know what they're dealing with from start.  And so I know, as well.  Ungrateful child.  Don't know what else I expected.

Day 4
Currently waiting in town for wedding tomorrow, as Alys arrived somewhat later than expected due to trouble on road and camping overnight with us before continuing on to town.  And wedding is going to happen without our interference after all.  I think Alys embodies just about everything I hate in humans.  After our many and varied difficulties in "rescuing" her from wildlings only to find that she'd deliberately run away with them and was actually in danger from orcs and troll, and then all our worries and preparations in trying to find some way to prevent her unwanted marriage to horrible old man, she confesses that she actually likes Lord Reddling and really isn't opposed to the marriage at all, and everything else was basically a whim.  Flight of fancy.  Monetary compensation from Reddling (though a good amount) for her safe conduct is hardly adequate to fill smoking HOLE left in fragile concept of goodwill.  I was nearly cut in half, Dor and Viktor were stung so full of holes they puffed up like toads, and an entire band of wildlings was cooked by that troll or died in our accidental fire, all for her.  That girl is a menace to society.
       But, details....Dor and Viktor checked in with me at roadside hiding place and then went back to see how things were going at ambush site.  They returned short time later with two carriage guards and no one else; I learned later that two of nine bandits escaped, Dor used alter self scroll to look like one of three remaining guards and kill Lord Barros, and other two guards cut down the one Dor had mimicked, all without them knowing Dor was behind any of it.  I had used super-strong liqueur (picked up in town) to knock out Alys while hiding so she'd stop screaming about trolls once sleep spell wore off, and Viktor tried to get me to give him some when we set camp, supposedly to help him sleep.  I feigned lack of understanding of his exaggerated, half-pantomimed requests, and guard tossed wineskin to him.  Viktor soon passed out.  I found vine, hung him by ankles with shoulders on ground, warmed mug of water with prestidigitation, and stuck his hand in it.  Then I slept very well, anticipating his sullied and uncomfortable awakening, in which I was not disappointed (combination of Tammanath's parenting and Dor's stories of growing up with Diego certainly provides storehouse of inspiration).  It doesn't seem to have occurred to him yet that these things always seem to happen when he drinks himself unconscious.  At any rate, we set out in morning for town, after learning (through conversation and my detect thoughts) that Alys is considerably more than she lets on, behind her vacant smiles and hair-braiding.  At the moment, I could easily bury her head in wet cement.  Also learned, mostly from guards, that no one liked Barros, and indeed guards were going to kill him on way home after wedding, having been paid for it by his eldest child (daughter) who is heir and who is apparently much more likable.  Tried detect thoughts on Reddling once we reached town, but could learn nothing more than that he's frighteningly intelligent, especially for nonscholarly human.  Have nasty suspicion he had something to do with plots against Barros.  But that's none of my business, and I'm quite tired right now of bothering with things that are no proper concern of mine.  Tower life certainly has its attractions.  I wonder where the bloody blazes we are with relation to what few landmarks I know of.  I wonder how Alys would like to be blind.  Too bad that wizard-on-staff could so easily disspell it.  I wonder how flammable this town is.

Day 5
Leaving town quickly before wedding reception is over (currently out of sight of walls, writing as I walk).  I waited until that wizard-on-staff wasn't in sight, then cast blindness on Alys.  It reflected.  Obviously some sort of magical attack was expected, to warrant such protection.  At least I managed to resist my own spell.  I grabbed Dor and Viktor and made hasty retreat, so far without pursuit.  I have map of local area--much too far north for me to have any clue of our larger positioning beyond what map shows--and we're now heading for nearest town of substantial size.  This could mean walk of anywhere from a few days to a couple weeks, as local maps appear to be none too accurate regarding distance.  I hope to find something resembling a decent library.  Ha ha.  I suppose one can always hope, until illusions are ripped away.  HOPEFULLY I'll be able to research a few nebulous ideas that have recently occurred to me, regarding relative natures--and possibly interactions--of arcane magic and this newer, at-a-thought pseudo-magic with which I'm slowly becoming more deft (if still severely limited).  Maybe I'll yet find a way to return here and ruin any ill-got bliss that girl may have wrung out of our wide-eyed ignorance and the casual deaths of so many others.  I suppose it's about time I had a goal in life.  Don't know that I could bring myself (temporizing fool that I am) to actually remove her permanently from the world (or what passes for "permanently," what with rumors of walking dead and all that), but anyone that manages to somehow prevent her from ever again affecting individual lives or society at large should be hailed as a hero.  More likely hunted as some kind of villain, but one must be willing to accept risks and burdens when attempting so great a quest for the sake of humanity...

Day 6
First morning back on road.  Waiting now for Dor to recover fully from exposure to paralyzing vegetative stomach acid before setting out again to walk.  He grunts and tries weakly to punch my leg when I poke him, so must assume that to be good sign (somewhat concerned at apparent lifelessness until he responded).  Never before had opportunity to see tendriculous outside of book.  Looked in academic sketches like giant pile of vines and leaves with pseudopods and gaping maw and very little other physical differentiation.  Looks about that way in person too, but much bigger.  Particularly when swallowing companions whole.  Stinks when smoldering.  Must check around for any usable vines or acid left from it.

Day 7
Once again, writing as I walk.  Convenient.  No chance for writing last night; we made camp with fair-sized group of other travelers who'd banded together for better security overnight (can't help but think how our very presence shattered that security, had they but known it), and Viktor accidentally triggered that wand, which he'd been carrying in his pack.  Thankfully only gust of wind happened, but it blew a few people over and scattered newly built cookfire.  Viktor was tipsy as usual and couldn't fight back very well, so I dug wand out of his pack and ran off with it.  I knew Dor would likely follow, and I heard him in grass now and then but couldn't see him, so I handed wand off to Podge and told him to go bury it in deep rabbit warren while I stood and waited for Dor to show up.  Beanhead took off after Podge, though, surely figuring out what I'd done.  Been around each other too long.  Well, Podge successfully reached rabbit hole and dove in, and I found Dor shoulder-deep in hole, grabbing at empty air down there and growling out some unpleasant things.  I acted like I had no idea what he was upset about, and he tied me up again.  I didn't bother resisting; I'd finally gotten rid of that stick and all was now well with the world.  And Podge would come chew through rope once Dor was gone.  He thought of that, however, and doused rope with flask of diluted tendriculous acid he'd collected.  Numbed skin on contact.  Not good for Podge to try to chew through.  But still, getting rid of stick was worth all that and more, with surety that once Dor felt he was properly avenged, the matter would be over and done with and stick would still be gone.  In the end, I'd win, no matter how uncomfortable a night I might first have to spend trussed up and tied to tree (accustomed to discomfort and humiliation, but new experience to actually win when all's said and done).  Podge returned after Dor went to bed, but I was able (after couple hours of trying) to pop just enough of a strand of rope to eventually wriggle free without making Podge chew through that numbing stuff.  I returned to camp and fell asleep at last, and dreamed of happy world free of uncontrollable magic that burns allies alive in night.  Alas, it was no more than dream.  My own familiar had secretly turned on me.  Upon much questioning later, I learned that he had indeed done exactly what I'd told him to do in getting rid of that wand.  But, once his mission was accomplished, he had turned around, picked wand back up, and hid it in grass where he could creep out and find it once I was asleep.  And he took it to Dor, who snuck it into my pack while I slept and then tricked me into triggering it when I woke.  At least he had decency to take Podge out of potential blast zone beforehand, as I can withstand a bit more than he (and of course Dor would want to save his accomplice).  Only instant 10-foot grass again, and there wasn't even a cookfire built yet for it to catch, so no one died horrible death this time.  I flung wand up and over grass, away from Dor, who proceded to move methodically through grass with sickle, searching.  And when everyone was out of grass patch, he torched it to aid search.  Still smoldering when we left site; without precipitation soon, we might just glance over shoulder two days hence and see dark smudge above horizon.  Up to standard.  I'd dismiss Podge from service if I could pick up more compliant familiar quickly and not lose whatever edge I currently have with spells.  I suppose his betrayal is only in keeping with everything in my life to date.
       When not writing, mulling over memories of Reddling's town and keep, and possible dangers inherent in intelligence of lord, lady, and resident mage, and powers of latter.  I might even be able to kill That Girl if given opportunity, so long as it's quick.  Really don't know.  Uncomfortable, but perhaps best for all.  Don't know why idea bothers me; not as if any good would come of holding back.  Only end up losing more somehow, and consigning others (strangers or friends, possibly self) to death in process.  Such is wages of attempted decency, however ham-handed and inconsistent those attempts may be.  Better for self and what few friends I might be able to claim if I deliberately go against those sporadic urges.  Do what seems best for us (as I already know I can't do very well alone despite occasional desire to take that risk) and to hell with rest of world.  Maybe stereotypical tieflings are the way they are for good reason; maybe they know something I'm only beginning to discover.  Yes, That Girl must die.

Day 8
Must surely be tomorrow by now.  Hard to tell underground.  Couldn't have slept more than a couple hours in room we rented at inn before wakened by odd sliding noise, difficult to truly describe.  Door proved to be--well, not exactly blocked, more like wooden backdrop for stage play, looking normal at glance but actually no more than deeply-carved narrow gaps in solid wall.  Somehow door we had entered through was no longer usable as exit.  And hidden door then opened quietly in other wall, with dark corridor beyond.  What else can one do under such circumstances?  We went exploring.  Better than going back to bed to await whatever might come down that tunnel while we sleep.  Encountered a few gasts (first two looked as if they might be on their way to our room, expecting our slumber), and a handful of ordinary trap doors that opened under pressure to drop hapless pedestrian (me) down into small dungeon.  Nothing but old straw and iron bars down there.  And nameless man on verge of death, apparently from starvation/thirst.  Too far gone to answer questions, so I cut his suffering short.  Then, because Dor hadn't been the one to fall down, I gathered all the straw I could reach, piled it around and on fellow prisoner, and lit it before using levitation to go back up curved shaft to corridor.  Heard giggle from dungeon's single door--someone had been watching.  Above, closed trap door kept most of smoke away from us.  Viktor had inexplicable spasm that launched chunk of crumbling plaster at me down shaft as I was on my way up.  I found use at last for horn nubs.  Left pink mark on his forehead.  Later, when he tried to jump across triggered trap door, I pegged him with another piece of plaster mid-jump (nearly sent him down shaft).  He somehow got the strange idea I'd thrown it at him, but I reminded him that I'd given him lighted coin to see by, of course I wouldn't do such a thing, the place was merely falling apart, he must have been hit by a falling piece just as I was.  He professed error of his assumption--he must have seen something other than me snatching up chunk of plaster and lobbing it--and I think we're quits on the whole thing.  Still keeping eye on him, though.  Proceeded down descending corridors, around multiple right angle turns, and found inn's two stableboys.  They proved to be vampires.  Troublesome.  I managed to get myself bit, but Viktor got the living daylights knocked out of him.  I feel slightly less like a loser after noticing that even vampires have a hard time getting their hands on Dor when he doesn't want to be caught.  After breaking away from my attacker, I took advantage of that vampire's distraction to grab flask of extremely powerful acid found by Dor in workshop of that wizard back at Reddling castle.  It had much the same effect on vampire head (and shoulders, and torso, and upper arms) as on stone.  By this time other vampire had beaten hasty retreat in gaseous form, so I inspected one of the acid-severed forearms while Dor and Viktor dragged the rest of the remains to a trap door for dumping and burning.  Severed parts were already starting to extrude new flesh, whether to knit them all back together or to form multiple new vampires remains unanswered (I swear Dor delights in setting things ablaze before I can fully understand them).  Forearm with attached hand did what it could to fight me, but not much can be done with no leverage.  Cauterizing stump end had only short-term effect in halting regrowth.  I finally pulled needle and thread from pack and did careful, extremely fine suturing to close stump end so no raw flesh remained exposed; so far, this seems to have worked, as Handy has yet to grow new body.  I wedged new pet in loop on side of pack.  Podge wrestles with it.  And gets thwacked; Handy has a mean flick.  Made obscene gesture at me when I whimsically tried to get it to open locked door for us, farther down corridors.  Sharp smack against wall rendered it less-mobile for short time, until bones heal.  That thing bit me, and I fully intend to get full mileage out of this reversal of control.  At any rate, more gasts, then room with absolute treasure trove of healing and curing potions.  Much appreciated.  Next room held something undead, still not entirely sure what it was, only humanoid and sentient.  I was going to try and talk with him, figure out how to get out of there without further (painful) conflict--I'd even promise to lure the next passersby to the inn in our place, I just wanted to get out of there and get some rest--but once again Dor acted before I could.  Short, ugly skirmish later, threat was neutralized, and we went to barely-living human chained to inclined table, hoping to learn something about this place (such as how to get out).  Funny, that I'd even consider asking someone in his position about ways out.  One would think he'd have used them if he knew them...Never claimed to be consistent, though, nor even particularly realistic.  Two healing potions couldn't even save the guy's life.  Dor's idea to yank all of blood-draining tubes out of him might have had something to do with his death.  I honestly mean "might," here, as there's a good chance he wouldn't have lived much longer anyway.  I keep running into those.  Thought of setting fire to this one too (or having Dor do it, just to see the joy on his little face), but chose a few hours of rest in this room instead.  Definitely needed them, flat out of useful spells by this time.  Exposure to "normal" people has caused passing thought to occur to me; is either of these two bothered by settling down for watches and naps in small room filled with vials of old blood, with undead thing on floor and dead person strung up in corner?  Probably would look/feel a bit odd to vast majority of world.  But no fat bald merchants, vegetable monsters, or undead things crawling on walls here, so quite comfortable for me.  Not picky.  Ye gods, I am twisted.
       Later---Never before grasped difficulty of writing while traveling at good clip in carriage.  Different from writing while walking.  Dor is driving, Viktor is snoring on bench opposite mine.  In a few hours, one of us will switch to driving and let Dor rest.  We took carriage as reimbursement for night of hell and little sleep.  Some of tunnels under inn are collapsed, with many many kobolds dead and probably yet more trapped in cave-in.  Several human prisoners of vampires-and-what-all-else are dead (surely an improvement for them).  Three vampires that we know of were beaten until they went to fog and disappeared for recuperation, and a fourth will never regenerate (unless Handy gets loose and manages to get out of my stitching--meanwhile, I find some small satisfaction in occasionally pulling my favorite memento from my backpack and beating him against a wall for a minute before putting him back; sadistic souvenir-shopper?).  Half-fiend is also dead in our wake.  Somewhat pyrrhic victory, that.  Had to kill him, though--he was lobbing longswords at me, two at a time, snatched from his bag of holding.  What I wanted was someone experienced in those rare grafting arts I've read about.  Blast it all, I want working wings.  I deserve them more than that homicidal psycho.  Just not the full horns and scales and fangs and whatnot.  I'm eyecatching enough as it is.  Most difficulty (after the fact) in killing him, however, arises from dawning knowledge of possibility that that may have been my father, for all I know.  Scales instead of humanlike skin, of course, but they were black.  And for pity's sake, how many half-fiends of any description can there be in this land, much less jet-black ones?
       And just what in the Nine Hells would I want with such a monster?  Vampire-loving, flesh-eating, elf-raping hellspawn.  I was willing just to talk our way out and leave on at least neutral terms.  He and his vampire lackeys attacked first.  Better off killing him without knowing for sure.  Better than knowing for sure.  Never wanted to meet whatever caused my existence.


Lose more of that annoying sanity and good sense with Laerrigan's journal, Part III...

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