A Knights Work

*Journal Entry
*Penned By Oliver TurnKey


The handwriting is graceful flipping in swift curves, the careful penmanship shows that the writer to care with his words, there is a bit of grit from where sand was used to dry the ink.

Writing about all that has happened is no easy task, it should be simple to pass details through ink to parchment however some time has passed and still my experiences have not lost there edge and every attempt to recall acts like a new blade placed directly to my spirit for tempering from the forge. I have thrice bathed, laundered my armor pads and polished my mail. The small rewards some how do not feel like they were worth the ordeal. Unable to calm my mind even in Reverie, I turned to planning out the finer aspects that may help us glean even the smallest control with this foe.

I digress. The house that we sought answers from was alive, of a fashion. The Durst family in a bumbling impersonation of true magic were able to build some sentience within its walls. Though it may have been at the cost of the lives of all in the family, a tragedy when viewed from the outside. Though Kristoff, the Half-Elf Wizard, and myself had something of a more intimate encounter. While exploring the house we were on the third floor when the spirits of the children opted to interact with us directly, in a very violent fashion that nothing in any of my study, nothing in all my experience could have prepared me. It was akin to entering Reverie, I was completely aware of my surroundings and yet had no control over my own words or actions, I was being ridden and driven by the spirit of a young boy, the bow was too terrified to articulate much and cried with great vigor while I was helpless I could see the occasional flash of his memories of being locked in that room where he and his sister starved.

It was such a shock that it took nearly an hour for me to push the boy aside and retake my body with the force of my own will. And all I can say is that it was an experience that no-one should envy.

In the time since I have had words with my companions regarding tasks that could strengthen our position. I spoke with Seldoforyama, the Cleric about creating a temple space in the nightmarish space beneath the catacombs of the Durst Home, gifting him with the offering of my old short sword for his Lord Kelemvor.  I asked Amastacia our unlikely Ranger to scout the area and see about mapping or acquiring maps of the area. Nova our Bard to gather local knowledge and gossip by playing the Tavern, Kristoff will stay at the attached Inn while researching lore. I shall play my role as the Noble to line a few pockets in an effort to earn trust.

In this mess of Barovia I have never longed for the Halls of my Queen more, I wish to see the night sky clear of this cursed fog.

Hei-Corollon shar-shelevu, tie a' amin, vee' i' giliath Lotesse il.

(Corellon, may your grace grant direction to me, as the stars may not.)