The Sorcerous Doings of Dead Jane

These pages of script are written with a lightly embellished, crisp hand.

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Jane's musings, I ...
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Aah ... ouch!

No doubt I'm hurt! Gotta have a rest, and check out what ails me, though I don't think this graveyard is the best place for a quick sit-down. I'm sure better adventurers have dealt with worse hardships than mine, so I have to keep the grumbles to a bare minimum. Having said that, these tombstones bite into the backside more than I like! Not something I'd choose regularly as seating, but they work for now.

Valorian's Vale strikes me as a very strange place. It has an out-of-place feeling of some kind, like there is a connection to ... well, something! I can see why so many adventurers pass through this area. They are drawn here, I think, just like I was ... just like I continue to be.

There, that's better. Had to clean the wound of all that grave-grime and bandage it good. Not terribly deep, but nasty-looking. Still have a few bottles of cheap healing potion left, but I'm reluctant to use them just yet. Now that all those injuries are well dressed, time to turn attention to all the holes those bony fiends put into my only armor!

A strange thing happened not too long ago, while I was still mucking about in the graveyard. After one rather nasty battle, I moved beyond the gates, to heal and mend and whatnot. While I was looking through my pack for some bandages, a man appeared by me. I think he was a wizard-type, judging by his wizard-type robes. But he didn't have that feeling that most wizards have, the almost-desperate search for more and more powerful knowledge. He felt ... as if he already knew how things will be, like he lacked wizardly ambition because it was completely unnecessary to him.

Anyways, this robed stranger looked right at me, as beaten and bloody as I was, and greeted me with ... "A sorceress in studded leather? Wandering a graveyard full of potent undead? Are you directly out of your mind!?" I smiled at him. Truth be told, the fighting doesn't bother me, really. I got used to it in the old tavern, but hells, that's what you did if you wanted to survive ... cursed woodsmen! And I still like to practice my fighting skills, keep them up to task. The magic comes naturally to me, but the melee ... that takes some time!

And ... just about ...

All finished! Slipped in a few crude stitches to keep this leathery beaten shell together, at least until I can have it fixed or replaced ... those damned pesky skeletons! The dead should stay where they lie, there's a reason they're dead! I guess there really is a problem with this patch of land. Maybe I'll stick around awhile and study this puzzle a bit more.

But now ... to gather my things and move on, back to Valorian's Vale and a safe place to sleep!

The Vale is a lot better than some of the orc-hole places I've been. At least it looks like the folks in this town care about the place they live in. And the merchants! Pleasant and smart, with a nice selection to boot, for those who are thrifty with their gold, anyways! I'll have to see that lovely Blackrose forgestress about picking up some less-worn armor. Cursed skeletons!

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Jane's musings, II ...
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I have heard tavern-whispers of a man who travels in these parts, a very powerful man. Unfortunately, these whispers never say if the man is a good man or a bad man, just that he is a powerful man. Quiet gossips are also heard about his generosity, and how he sometimes helps out adventurers new to the Vale. If this is true, I don't know. If it is true, what are his motivations? Is a gift from a bad man anything other than a bad gift? Nothing is free, ever. What is the ultimate cost of this man's attention?

From the scant descriptions, I'd say he's a wizard, and probably a powerful one at that. Which, again, gives me concern. Why does he seek power? And what part do other adventurers play in his schemes?

Until I have better information, I'll have to be a bit wary of the man called Bane.

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Jane's musings, III ...
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I met a wanderer today, a strange man who wanted to talk with me. He had a bit of an issue with the sun, though ... seemed to burn and bother him enough ... he went into a farmer's home for relief, and I followed him. His horse did too, and that seemed to be ok, at first, anyways. This strange wanderer and I, we talked for some time about travel, tactics, treasure ... exchanged ideas, traded small goods ... he even let me use his magic dyepot! Purple hide armor, how great is that! All good things must end, though. His horse got restless, as did the farmer. Why the old man attacked us, I'll never figure out. What did we do to make him mad, other than bring a horse into his home. We didn't want to kill the old fool, just make him stop swinging his old fists. Yeah, no luck there. Poor farmer.

Then a man appeared, the same one from the cemetary, the wizard-type. Was this the one called Bane? He told us that he could take care of things, flashed some spells around, and the farmer was back to himself. We left fast, before the old guy got too mad again! And that wizard-type, gotta watch out for him ... surely he could do all sorts of hurt if he put his mind to it.

Ah, anyways ...

Now it's off to the Vale, again - this time, to talk to Smitty about a dyepot!

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Jane's musings, IV ...
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While going here and there about the Vale's surrounding lands, bashing in wee beast heads, I come across fine little things every so often, things that I can't exactly figure out. I can *tell* it is magical, but beyond that, nothing. I don't have much experience working with enspelled things ... long ago, back in the woodsmen's village and the old tavern, everything magical was quickly passed on to the old, old wizard in the low tower ... as he was, what did those cursed villagers call him? Yes, as a studied spellcaster, it was his place to deal with those things, not mine. ... So I can't really identify those fine little things.

I was in the lanes of Valorian's Vale, standing outside of the town hall, digging through my pack and cursing that I couldn't use the stuff I had. After I mouthed several curses, a man appeared by me ... guess he sensed my need. From his voice and his words, I'd say he was a bard-type, and one of some standing. He looked at me, listened to my questions, looked through my pack, and gave me some answers. I had some ordinary wands, nothing special. The spear, though, it was a special one. He told me that I should hang on to it, that its magics were helpful and would grow with me. I thanked him much and asked his price for telling me about my stuff. He said, simply, "Gemstones, I have taken to collecting gemstones." I did not have any on me, so now I owe the kind bard a gem or two. What was his name, when I see him again to pay him back? Umm ... Alice? Hardly! Now, was it ... Atlas? Again, no! Umm ... Yes, I remember - it is Alastair!

Now I just have to remember to pick up some gems!

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Jane's musings, V ...
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I died a night or so ago. The memory is hazy and unclear, but all the same, I know I died.

Shortly before dying, I ran across a small group. We exchanged hellos, then traveled a bit. As it turns out, the man called Crideas Bane was there, along with that shadowy fellow who lent me his nice dyepot ... Jay Braysin, I think. Bane seemed nice enough, even helped me with some things in my pack, and gave me an item or two. I thanked him and took his gifts. He didn't seem so bad ... just gotta keep my eyes on him, I guess. We parted ways soon after that ... the group went to the plains, and I went north, directly into a pack of damned bandits!

Yeah, that'll teach me for having no spells ready. Several bandits died by my morningstar, but their sneaky mage ... well, let's just say that it's not a good idea to fight spells with weapons, particularly when you're a sorcerer! A couple of incantations later and I'm laid out on the ground, everything darkening around me.

Cursed bandits! Lady Zolaras will soon tire of me coming to dinner, I think!

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Jane's musings, VI ...
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One thing about traveling that bugs me a lot is the rate at which large groups of baddies, especially goblins and bandits, attack me! I'm very tired of these ... ambushes, so I've started using, shall we say, a neat way to deal with these pests. I make myself and Chathbite very invisible, so that whenever I see a mob waiting to attack, I quickly, quietly and unseen-like take off my armor, so it doesn't muck up my magics ... and throw a scintilating sphere right into the middle of the bunch!

Boom! Most of them die on the spot - the remainders are treated to ... I dunno, another scintilating sphere, or magic missiles, or that iron spikes thing. Pretty much whatever I have handy in my head. Fast work of a bunch, I'd say! Usually ends everything nice and quick!

Sometimes, though ...

A goblin shaman got the drop on me, and roasted me with a couple blasts of fire. Had to use my morningstar, smacked its icky little head in. Wiped off the blood, and checked myself for damage - yes, the fire really hurt! While looking over my burns, I spied a pack of armed goblins, out of the way a bit, kinda milling around, waiting. I stripped my armor off, then sent a scintilating sphere in their midst. One wasn't enough, so I sent another ... killed all but one ... little rotter, made a fast run for me! Now I didn't have any magic to throw at it quick-like, and I couldn't put my armor back on fast enough! Yes, yes, I know that goblins are kinda small and pesky, but in my delicate state ... those burns were still throbbing ... I'm pretty sure one hit was all I'd take.

So ... I ran! Thinking back, I bet it looked really silly, a naked sorceress armed with a flaming morningstar fleeing for her life ... from a cave goblin! Luckily we ran past Chathbite, and the foul little beast slipped in a mess of goblin guts. It never stood a chance!

Lovely familiar!

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Jane's musings, VII ...
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Hells take me! This journal is fast becoming less about adventuring and more about how I return for the Great Hall of Zolaras!

Several times now, I was sent bloodied and battered into the calm of the Hall. But I swear that I will get Lady Blackrose's items for her, and that I will send as many roadside pirates to the Hells as I can!

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Jane's musings, VIII ...
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A day or so ago, I thought I'd finish the job I started for darling Blackrose. Didn't seem like it would be very difficult, just moving some goods from here to there. I cleaned up my packs, gathered up Chathbite, and set out for the city of Tradeholm. We passed the dwarven enclave on the Northwestern Road, I believe, and ran smack! into a pack of hungry goblins! I was thinking ... the more I travel and see, the less, well, hard the goblins are to battle. I didn't even use any invisibility ... just some spells and some spears, and we ended up with some very dead goblins! I cleaned that mess up, then Chathbite and I were on our way again.

The roads were dull until we reached the pumpkin stand. I wanted to buy a slice or two, as I like pumpkin, but the stand was deserted. I spied a man standing by the running brook some paces away ... yes, it was the pumpkin man! Turns out, he was fighting a mass of mice with ... fire breath?! Chathbite bolted over and killed a few, and a scintilating sphere from me squished the rest. Even found a tiny skull in the mess ... I can't use it, but I sure could use the gold for it!

Ah, the life of an adventuress ... !

Several pumpkin slices later, we were traveling again. Under invisibility, we stumbled across a horde of bandits on the outskirts of a small village ... up to no good, no doubt! I stayed back a bit, and poked through my wand pouch for a little surprise - found it! A blast of the wand later, and the bandits had a big, ugly dire spider among them, clawing and tearing and poisoning!

After that, Chathbite and I found a better way to go. The rest of the trip was ... shall we say, uneventful, thanks to a few invisibility spells!