The team was assembled. Dumai, a young spellcaster, was their arcanist; Jebediah Shackton was their hunter and tracker; Golbad Shantz, a shifty fellow with a slight orcish turn to his nose, was on loan from the Niole Dra Night Masks to scout buildings and locate Amedian traps; and Geoff Nolaan of Gradsul, a young noble warrior encased in platemail needing adventure and time away from Keoland as trouble seemed to linger around him like a curse. His welcome was worn out in all of the Keoish north. It was said that he was the best thing to happen to the Kettite war effort since the raids began.

Cook would not allow the group to get larger and was very angry at having Geoff foisted upon him, as though he was to babysit this large clanking child. But Geoff then insisted his leadership role in the group, claiming his right by noble blood. Cook cared not to argue. He knew the jungle would stifle his bravado, but until then Geoff was rude, condescending, and demanding. At one point Shackton requested of Cook that he be allowed to pitch him in the sea.

"The sea is a dangerous place, mate. Accidents 'appen all the time. And 'e's wearing that bloody plate armor all the time, 'e'd sink like a dwarf after a 'eavy meal, 'e would, if'n there was an accident. Nobody'd be wiser. B'sides everbody else wants the bloke ta take a drink anyhow."

Which wasn't true because the arcanist Dumai was also of the privileged class. He was just quiet enough that the rest of the crew forgot about him entirely. Though he had no love for the stupid armored man-child, he would not condone the murder of a member of a relative of a ruling family.

But more significantly was Feanimus himself obstructing the wicked behavior. Priests of Istus are commonly thought of as cold, somnolent individuals casually watching time pass, carefully noting the intricacies of its path, but my more familiar experience of the members of Her order is that they deeply care about events as they unfold on a personal level, and nobody better exemplified this fact than Cook. There is no cosmic balance, there is no proper passage of time. Things happen and that is all. Their spiritual mission is simply to note events and glory in them and the best way to celebrate a timely happening is to throw oneself into the mix and make your personal position in any debate more significant. Cook's central belief was best noted in an earlier work: "We only have Time to judge us and the only means by which you are blessed or damned by it is through what you do. Time punishes and rewards these actions with results. I have found that regardless of what comes there is no punishment for one who follows his or her heart. The nature of ones actions is defined by the heart and all things that come to it in Time are fully deserved by the Glory of who you are. Never betray your heart or you will never know who you are and what to do ever again. You will never know the Glory of living again." And then he goes on some diatribe against slavery and its injustice.

Cook, the champion of freedom and the opponent of bad will, would not let the venom of harmful intent into his heart. He told Shackton to ignore Geoff and to focus on preparing for the inland journey. Time would serve Geoff what he deserved.

But this little exchange was just a minor result of an overlying problem. The team was fractured or more likely, they had never come together. Dumai was quietly terrified of the whole mission because he was not at all ready for the hazards. He was too young with insufficient ability. He hid below decks shunning conversation with the others for fear they would discover he was a novice.

Geoff, of course, separated himself from all the others as one of noble bearing should. He spent his days standing near the ship's command imagining how he would return home rich and famous from this journey and would be given command of the king's elite cavalry when he returned. This he told to the captain who did not want to upset him with this unlikelihood by remarking that king Trevlyan was not a fool.

Shackton and Shantz became thick as thieves on the voyage. They sat on deck all day sharpening weapons, tossing bones, throwing daggers at targets, and shooting at sharks and dolphins in the water. They quickly realized that they were of the same class of people. They made no pretense about their reservations of going off into the great green, but this served to harden them and the more they prepared the more emboldened they became. But they also knew their limits. Despite being skilled men they both were keenly aware when it was time to pack up and go home. They both respected Cook and knew that he too was a skilled and capable companion, but they weren't sure he could be depended on to be realistic. Shackton said later that both he and Shantz had agreed during the voyage that if things turned bad, they would work together in calling the shots. Knowledge, treasure, and nobility be damned, they would not feed the jungle needlessly.

Cook could see that his team was not cohesive—they weren't even friendly. He almost wished he waswere going alone because he was quite confident of his own ability in the jungle, but he felt he was leading the rest of them to their deaths. This was the last time he gathered a group to aid him in his research. It was this epiphany on the way to Tamoachan that he realized that all of this time it was only his fear that he was insufficient to work alone that held him back. He was placing people in danger and without them along he wouldn't have to watch over them, find them food, make them shelters. If he went alone he could move faster, accomplish more, do what he needed to unhindered and for less money and preparation. It was fear all along that tied him down. This would be the last mission he made with support.

When they disembarked from their ship to begin their trek through the jungle, Cook inspected their gear instructing them to leave aromatics and jewelry behind. He told Geoff to take off his helm. He refused and told Cook to go back to his library. Cook then suggested that he at least undo his chin strap. Geoff ignored him. They set off into the great green.

Only a few hours had passed when Cook stopped and smelled the air. He knelt and inspected the soft sandy ground. A few green leaves tumbled down slowly spinning from above. Cook dove to the ground shouting "Get down!" Just then an enormous hairy beast dropped down from above and with a terrible roar snatched Golbad by the shoulders and hauled him screaming into the dark trees above. Geoff reached for his sword and Dumai prepared a spell, but two more of the beasts swung down, one grabbing Geoff under the helmet on two sides with two black claws. Geoff's head was pulled off with a loud "Thock!" and was borne away without a sound. Dumai raised his hand and the other beast sank its teeth into his shoulder and with incredible strength ripped his casting arm from his body with a grasping claw. In another second shrieking, dying Dumai followed Golbad into the trees. Jebediah spun around out of the path of the attacks, but stumbled over the falling and thrashing armored body of Geoff as it twisted and writhed upon the jungle floor, gouting blood from its torn neck, painting the broad leafed plants crimson. Jebediah's tumble over the noble's son saved him from another grasping attack by a fourth vicious ape as it failed to reach beneath the leafy tangle where Shackton had fallen. Later Shackton would admit that this was the best thing a Keoish lord had ever done for him.

Jebediah sprang up, grabbed Feanimus by the wrist, hauled him to his feet, looked at him with a wild, determined, Geoff-bespattered face and said forcefully, "Sorry, mate. The mession is over." and then raced back to the boat. They both ran all the way back to the beach followed by crashes and howls in the trees above. The mad dash only ended once the anchor had been raised and the moorings cut. On the water, Shackton told Cook that he did not blame him, but Cook did. From then on he traveled the Amedio alone, allowing for his distress with Scuzarro and freedom from patronage.

They returned to Gradsul and reported their failure. Maestro Scuzarro seemed satisfied with the result as he had warned Cook that the search for Tamoachan was a fool's game. Now it was Scuzarro's choice for the next site. Beaten, Cook relented. However, Feanimus had to make himself scarce for a time as the Nolaan family was enraged at their son's death. The smoothing over process was Scuzarro's arena. Until that was accomplished Cook hid at far off Xamaclan.

Incidentally, Jebediah Shackton, still a filthy and disreputable man, is under the employ of Prince Kael (may he smother in his evil) of the Hold. He is a swamper and acts as a go-between and emissary for the Prince to the orcs of the Hool. This is a perfect position for him. As he said himself, "Ah never met a man more honorable than a orc. Yeh can always trust 'em ta kill yeh if yeh piss 'em off, not later when yeh've forgot the argament and yer no longer sore."

Xamaclan was a perfect respite for Cook. I've never been there, but from what Cook and the few others invited in its walls have said, it is a peaceful, what one might term as, "classical" city. It has founts and pools of flowing water, great temples and amphitheaters and a hearty yet sophisticated (as sophistication goes) populace. There is no other known archive south of Port Toli than the one carefully tended and expanded in Xamaclan. Cook was welcomed to the city and he embraced the people and its culture. After staying in Xamaclan for a year, it is well known that Cook preferred the Amedians to any other people he had met. He loved their directness and felt he never had to guess their mind or heart. Though his heightened awareness had given him marvelous insight to human behavior (for example, it was said he could tell you were lying by looking at your hands) he could relax when talking to an Olman. If Cook's survival instincts were constantly aroused when anywhere but in Xamaclan, it's not surprising he adopted it as his restful home. For when he returned to Gradsul, Scuzarro was awaiting him for his next journey and home would be lost to him for five long years.

It was Scuzarro's turn to pick the site. Constantly searching for Suel artifacts in the Amedio, Scuzarro thought Cook should go to Hucanuea. Cook protested. Based on the best information available—the archive in Xamaclan—he expected the search to be most lucrative south of Xamaclan. Scuzarro blanched at this and reminded Cook that he had entertained his fantasies last time with Tamoachan and they gleaned nothing but trouble. Cook would not argue the point. They had a deal and without Scuzarro's money there would be no mission at all. At this point Cook still hadn't realized he could live virtually hand to mouth without funding but it took this trip to show him that he could work independently without a patron. So in 548 Cook headed off to Hucanuea—this time alone.

By now Feanimus had adapted to wearing armor. He could wear his full set of platemail and still discern the sounds, smells, and other nuances of the environment without annoyance. So he donned his platemail (without the helm) filled a pack, mostly with parchment, quills, and ink and boarded a boat for the Amedian shore. He disembarked near the river that would take him inland closest to Hucanuea and bade the ship farewell.

He has admitted that he spent the next days fashioning a canoe and oar from a log and then paddled up river. Of his experiences in Hucanuea, we know nothing. He has not written, lectured or otherwise related any information of his time there. All we know is that two years later, after everyone had been resigned to his permanent loss, he appeared in Gradsul. Some claim his coming to Gradsul was not a return because his heart had stayed in the Amedio (and many thought his whole self should have stayed too) and he didn't actually return in spirit for another three years. In any case, he had paddled in his canoe down the river and then north up the sea coast all the way to Port Toli. He purchased a ride on a ship north to Gradsul with a handful of precious stones and upon arrival returned to his house in the dark of night without fanfare. To all who saw him that night, his eyes burned with malevolence.

After Cook's totally unexpected return to Gradsul, the academic community was excited but wary. He had returned with the biggest chip on his shoulder ever. He didn't set up a show for the artifacts he returned with, he didn't respond to invitations to social gatherings, and the few lectures he gave were short and he accepted no questions. Walking through the streets recoiling with an enfanged glare at anyone who came near him, it was obvious contempt he held for his hometown neighbors. He stayed for only a month as he packed his essentials and viciously severed ties to all his friends and family, especially Scuzarro. Benizio had learned of Feanimus' return in Niole Dra and traveled to see him. Maestro Scuzarro said Cook made a few inappropriate remarks about his heritage and his work and then said that Scuzarro's money was a venomous trap that he would not accept ever again to accomplish his work. Scuzarro returned to Niole Dra never wishing to see Cook again.

I spoke to Scuzarro to write this book. He said this degradation was apparent the day they met. "The lands to the south are wild and savage and yet they are alluring in their simplicity. A person who can learn to live the brutish sort of life will become enraptured by its direct manner. But what seems like simple solutions is really avoidance of cultural maturity. Problems aren't solved, they are beaten down only to return again; nothing is learned. That is simplicity. That is what Cook sought. He despised etiquette and courtesy, he couldn't entertain small talk for even a moment … at the time I spoke to him last, he could barely speak in full sentences. The jungle has taken him. Let him have his simple life while we enjoy civil culture and growth." I couldn't agree more.

Cook left his home, tacking a message to his door that said only "I seek a place of greater value." This note was duplicated and served as the title thought for his final show in Gradsul, the one I attended, most recently.

According to him, he spent the next three years in the jungle city of Xamaclan deep in research. He became a respected member of the city, but for the most part, he kept a low profile and studied their histories. He wrote a series of fantastic historical accounts coalescing the Xamaclan records and northern history and thought and returned to Gradsul. He returned calm, quiet, and respectful.

After his last departure, Cook's serenity, let alone his return, surprised everyone. Older scholars and historians still would not receive him as they expected only insults even if cloaked in fine words. Younger academics sought him out. The "jungle man" had returned. Here was an historian who put his life on the line for knowledge. He did not sit and imagine the truth. He went in search of it. Cook was an old man, yet he moved with strength and confidence. It was at this time that Cook was most abundantly prolific in his writings, travels, politics, and popularity. The youth of Keoland collected his books and imagined the exotic and adventurous lands of the Amedio and Cook was the true figure of free spirit that they yearned to emulate. Cook wasn't flattered by this attention; he was annoyed—he wouldn't be the one to dispel their illusions—so he did his best to ignore them all. He knew with bravery and heart they would discover the truth for themselves—a truth not truly found in the Amedio.

It was at that last exhibition I attended (the one that begins my story) wherein Feanimus met Tikul Farfell. Before Cook's abrupt exeunt, in the beginning of the evening, even before the meal, it was noticed that Cook was in serious conversation with one of Gradsul's most notable excentrics,eccentrics, Tikul Farfell. As Tikul spoke it was clear that Cook had a deep interest in what he was saying. It was Tikul's invitation of a lifetime.

Now, we are speaking more of current events rather than history for the following all happened within the past year. Tikul and Feanimus kept quiet about their destination though Tikul would say they were going to return with riches beyond the wildest imaginings and Cook would promise historic revelations that would redefine western Greyhawk forever. These two were clearly not on the same page.

Feanimus had been studying the southern Amedio for years. Among what few friends he had, they knew his goal was ultimately the far southern Amedio near the colony of Port Elizabeth. He would have gone nowhere else. But Tikul was a suspicious twitchy man who invited Cook only for his usefulness. Cook expressed his misgivings about working with Tikul, but this opportunity was too good to pass up despite his sense of approaching doom.

Why didn't he go alone? The exact area he sought to penetrate was known as a territory possessed by some particularly nasty natives known as the Atem. As a sovereign tribe Xamaclan will not allow their utter extermination, surely Cook wouldn't either, but there is apparently no reasoning with them. They kill all intruders they find. The extreme nature of the Atem is not understood so there is no way to approach them in understanding, so even Cook kept away from the deep Indicara jungle area. According to sources in who he confided his research his last year was spent seeking a friendly way past them. We don't know if he found it.

Tikul Farfell was a paranoid megalomaniacal wizard. He sought power through wealth and he enjoyed displaying that wealth in fine clothes and adornments, yet people who noticed or admired his attire would make him nervous, especially other spellcasters. He would arrive at a social event brimming to the top with himself, the master of all he could buy, but gradually, it seemed, little demons of inadequacy would crawl into him and he would begin to shy and scamper away from attention, hiding from all those who would seek his wealth and power until he was a quivering mass of nerves and he would have to go home to ease his crumpled mind. It became a popular party event for the guests to constantly remark to Tikul how much they liked his shoes, robes, rings, etc. until the man broke down and went home sick.

He hated spellcasters of all kinds, though, because that ability was the one thing he ever had faith in of himself. If that was ever proven insufficient against another who had such powers he would have to admit that he was nothing special. Tikul clung to survival by his ego. Initial backing down from confrontations with other spellcasters became total flight from their mere presence. Deep within him was the knowledge that he might not be able to live with himself if he knew without a doubt that someone else was better at magic than him. He never realized that he was his own worst enemy.

Like most magicians, his family had money, enough to get him through his education, but then Tikul built his fortune. He opened a spell component and reagent trade. One would think this would make him an herbalist or chemist, but no, he was a monster hunter and he had a knack for finding rare and expensive components. But he was too twitchy to work in a shop frequented by spellcasters. He had other people selling his wares for him. He made a tidy profit doing this and continued until his latest adventure. He had no passion for this work, though. His love was wealth and the possibility of more wealth to come. Again, following the theme of being one's own worst enemy, he had an adversarial relationship with his money. It made him think that everyone hated him and wanted his money. Ironically, he attracted people who would cater to his whims and such people usually were exactly the kind of people who would actually be after his money. To Tikul anyone who respected his demands must be a friend. So he surrounded himself with a cadre of deceitful people, like Pemin Donka.

Pemin Donka was Tikul's lackey in Gradsul. I can spare only a short paragraph for the weasel. He studied under Tikul, but mostly served as Tikul's house servant. He was as desirable in the Wizards' Guild as Tikul was and was known as a black market dealer in narcotics and poisonous toads. As soon as Tikul left on his mission, Donka evidently prepared to leave and when he was certain that Tikul would never return, he left Gradsul in the night taking everything with him. Tikul's house is completely bare.

Tikul and Feanimus combined their pathetic people skills to churn up a team of the most mismatched characters possible to aid them in their quest. Cook's friends say he was made miserable by the process and the more they conferred the more Cook realized he was at odds with Tikul. Cook's friends also say that they got the sense that at some point Cook had decided to go out of duty to protect valuable historic artifacts from these careless explorers. More or less, "If these jokers get through then I better be there to take notes before history is lost." As a spellcaster, Cook was also suspect to Tikul and his paranoia became more pronounced as Feanimus would disagree or defy him. Tikul refused to under any circumstances invite another spellcaster into the group. He packed the group with toughs and scabs, generally people he could control with his magic. All together their number was nine when they arrived in Port Elizabeth. Cook was allowed to pick two of them.

The first was a noble warrior of respect and temperence,temperance, in fact, a holy warrior whose mother is the current regent of Craufield. His name was Jason Rheyd and he served the goddess Lydia with his strength of character and his strong sword arm. Through his studies he learned of Pelor and that god's ongoing struggle with the Infernal realms. He made it his personal mission to be Lydia's champion in Hell and he sought protections and magics to oppose these wicked foes. It is assumed that it was for this reason that Jason was asked to join them. Cook knew his mother, but not him, so by some level of familiarity Cook was able to decide on Jason. Full of youthful motivation he joined the team, the day of departure, the excitement in his eyes, his willingness toward fate.

Garret Leah of the Axewood was one of the few personal friends of Cook from the early days working for Gradsul when he ate like a Yeoman. He was a skilled woodsman and through the many years always had the perfect timing to watch Feanimus' back. Though their meetings were spare they were always friendly, except during the days after Hucanuea. Garret was willing to forgive and forget and remained certainly Cook's best friend through the long years. Leah wasn't terribly excited about the jungle and on the few trips to the Amedio with Cook he made, he admitted feeling limited in that environment. So, when Cook asked Leah to join him to Port Elizabeth and beyond Garret knew Feanimus was concerned about this one. Cook was a loner and never would have asked his ablest friend to join him if he didn't think he was in over his head. Without hesitation Leah donned his armor and shield, bade farewell to his wife and children, and sailed away forever.

The first hires made by Tikul were a couple of dirty low class brothers from the dirty low class town of Saltmarsh. Devin and Janus Crow learned to fight by skirmishing with orcs from the marshes. They happened into Gradsul looking for work and Tikul hired them because they were cheap and admitted that they were frightened of magic. We know nothing else.

Tanion Mal was a drifter from Niole Dra. She carried herself confidently and demonstrated her ability to open a lock without a key. To the best of our knowledge Tikul hired her primarily because of her breast size. Pemin Donka, who witnessed the interviews, is our primary source for some of these characters, but since he disappeared the information is third hand given to me by people he told. Tanion Mal may have been skilled in some way, but we don't know how.

Before leaving, Tikul contacted a friend in Monmurg by the name of Luigi Funatello. He was a middling Sea Princes dignitary (if one can say that of the Princes in any way) for Tarrick in Monmurg. It was his job to obtain the ship and sail it up to Gradsul to meet them there and begin their journey. From there he was charged with protecting the ship in the Princes' waters. Luigi was happy to do this since shipping lanes had been open for quite some time and Tikul was still under the impression that the Princes were bloodthirsty pirates (it's still debatable). He would be their guide through the "dangerous" waters. Luigi was getting a cut of the loot for doing nothing. I've heard that his role was over once they reached Port Elizabeth, but he stubbornly insisted on joining them for the rest of the adventure to protect his interests. Stupid man.

Finally, the ship made one stop along the way in Port Toli. When Jelissa Van Artok boarded the ship Cook almost bashed her head in with his mace. He knew a Van Artok when he saw one. Her family was one of his most hated enemies in all the world. She was invited to be a guide and navigator through the Amedian seas and along the coastlines as she knew them quite well. The Toli Van Artoks were friends of Tikul's and they owed him a small favor. He figured there could be no better navigator of the Amedian seas than a slave trader. Quick with a sword, she was invited along the rest of the journey too. Cook was horrified. But then Time will bring you your just rewards.

The ship left Port Toli and arrived in Port Elizabeth. There are reports that the group did get to the Mallata village and that they entered the Indicara and never returned.

I would like to say that it was the Sea Princes who captured Cook. Try as I might, though, despite the presence of two of the traitorous wretches as part of the group, I cannot see how the Princes could have been involved. The ship they arrived in was eventually considered salvage and was sold and nobody from the region saw any of them return. Though it pains me to say it, it must have been the Atem that got them.

The first thing nearly everyone has said to me since I started this project has been, "Don't you think you're being a little hasty in your treatment of this matter. Cook has been known to disappear for years at a time." I have to give some credence for their concern, and honestly, I wouldn't be one bit surprised if Cook came swinging through the window of my study on a vine later this afternoon around tea. But Rheyd, Funatello, Van Artok, and Leah haven't returned home and extended disappearances isare not their style. Each of these people had something to come home to and would have wanted to return home at the designated time. Even if all of these key people died on the journey and Cook was left alone he would do his utmost to get back to Keoland to tell the family and friends of their fate, particularly in the case of Leah. No, this time I fear the worst.

It was only a matter of time before Cook would meet his end. His work was particularly hazardous and it is amazing he survived as long as he did. One has to wonder, though, if he wouldn't have been better off alone which was when he was at his best. If that were the case I might be inclined to wait two more years before I started this. I hate to be proven wrong. But as it is I have no fear of that.

Cook was a great historian—the best to tackle the history of the Amedio. Like no other land it poses the most danger (I daresay even more than the Horned Society) to an explorer, but because of its relative freshness it offers the most to be revealed. Cook's finds were astounding and his keen mind was able to interpret his discoveries with conclusive skill. He is irreplaceable (except maybe by the one who learns Cook's fate) and despite his crazy and unorthodox past, he will be sorely missed.

~*~

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