Aspirants of the Diamond Throne

Born the second son of a Jerad spice merchant the young Targan begun his education at age 10 apprenticed to a magister who resided in the southern hills. Before his first half year was complete, however, Targan received word of the death of his father. Bandits attacked the merchant while on caravan to Xavel. When Targan returned for the funeral he learned that the death was at the hands of the sibeccai brigand Eritic the Invincible. He marked the name and vowed to avenge his father’s death. He suggested to his brother that a mission into the southern hills was the best answer but his brother was against it. He was more committed to carrying on the business. Targan and his brother had strong words and even came to blows. The atmosphere in Jerad was very tense until Targan left to resume his studies. Targan left his brother on poor terms as his caravan left for the south. Targan reasoned that he would seek advice on mounting a mission of justice against the brigands, when he eventually reached his master. Surely he, of all people, would help him redeem his father’s dignity.

On the second day out of Jerad, bandits attacked Targan’s caravan. Although the guards fought bravely the bandits overran the caravan in very short order. Targan was captured and dragged before the band’s leader. It was Eritic the Invincible. Targan’s temper exploded and he lunged at the sibeccai. With his hands about to close on the bandit’s neck Targan was pummelled senseless by the sibeccai’s henchmen. Targan awoke in chains among a group of similarly bound individuals. Taking stock he found himself caged. He listened to the ambient noises and soon came to a sickening conclusion. He was captive at the slave markets of Khorl. Cursing his misfortune he realised fate was best served waiting for a good opportunity to escape. The slave cages were too strong and too well guarded.

In due course, Targan’s group were presented for auction. The buyers were unimpressed and trade was slow. A factor eventually purchased Targan for the paltry sum of 106 gold. The factor took him in charge and shipped him west deep into the southern Elder Mountains. There he placed Targan into the household of the mojh magister Dorogar.

In Dorogar household the slave keeper Strappe took the new slave under his wing. Strappe was a particularly nasty individual and he took a particular interest in humiliating Targan at any opportunity. Targan's saving grace, however, was that he was literate and this meant he was often assigned duties as a scribe or as librarian. It was at these times that Dorogar’s first noticed the youth. Normally Dorogar would not have paid the slightest attention to his slaves, but he became intrigued by his newest slave. He could clearly see the way he keenly performed his duties when related to the quill or the library. His writing style was particular cursive and notable. Targan’s other duties were sluggish and almost always ill performed. When Dorogar questioned the youth he discovered Targan's history as a magister apprentice. Dorogar was appalled. As a practitioner of the Arts, Dorogar considered all magisters, even apprentices, as being a cut above. He tested Targan’s knowledge and his abilities. It quickly became obvious that the boy was destined for magehood. He immediately declared the youth released from servitude. Instead he placed Targan under his own tutelage and granted him apprenticeship. That was seven years ago.

Targan view of the enigmatic Mojh changed with the passage of time. Initially, when he was first presented to the household Targan believed he had been delivered into the hands of a demon. Dorogar’s behaviour soon allayed that fear. Bit by bit Targan’s prejudicial belief that all mojh were evil incarnate were shown to be clearly wrong. Apart from the purchase of slaves, he never saw the Mojh perform anything even remotely evil. All he ever saw of the master was magical study and the reverence of his dragon gods. Targan‘s respect grew with the passing years. As his ability with magic grew he began to see the mojh view of the world in a bit more of a sympathetic light. He saw Dorogar’s intense study and passion for magic and this he admired greatly. It reflected his own feelings. Such admiration was a frequent emotion as Targan grew through adolescence.

Two years ago Targan asked the master to assist him in becoming a mojh. Dorogar was pleased but warned the youth of the consequences and forbid the transformation for at least a year. When the year passed, Targan was even more adamant and Dorogar assented this time. Eleven months ago, Targan became Mezezar the Mojh.

Mezezar gained his staff within a few months and thanks to Dorogar a small grant of funds to begin his own search for the secrets of magic. Mezezar’s first stop was the town of Khorl. There he sought to equip himself with a small laboratory and also to seek the whereabouts of an old friend: the bandit that killed his father and sold him into slavery seven years before. He sought the sibeccai, Eritic the Invincible.

Mezezar had joined the caravan heading towards Khorl first. Well at least that痴 what Ke-Tant Faerblay suspected. The young giant had noticed the mojh when he was on his first watch night, guarding the third wagon as he had agreed with the caravan master. His new armour had chafed uncomfortably as he watched the scaly humanoid stare motionlessly into the night. The merchant had said that the armour was made from wyvern scales and although Ke-Tant was not too sure, it was certainly lighter and stronger than the other options that were open to him. It had also cost him the rest of his coin. After his bonding ceremony with his greatsword, he felt that simple leather jack would not be a suitable accompaniment for such a weapon. But his first choices had left the giant with little option. If he was to pursue his wanderlust, he would have to pay his way, and a simple caravan guard would accomplish both at the same time. Jerad had become too familiar and staid. If he was to make his name, he did not want people痴 pre-conceptions to cloud their judgement of him. So what if his family did not amount to much, in a new city that was teeming with trade and intrigue, he was sure he could find adventure and advancement.

Obur Tilsen stepped out of the darkness a few nights later. The brash human was nearly impaled by a number of the impetuous guards, but when they realised that he had no horns on his head they relented and let him converse with the caravan master in private. He too, was soon standing watch over the goods of one of the wagons after a nod and a quiet clap on the back from the master.

A few nights later these three found themselves watching the same cargo as some rhodin attacked from the darkness. The two raiders that approached the caravan were swiftly dealt with, so they moved on to help out others further to the rear of their camp. They found a woman keeping one of the horned creatures at bay with her morningstar. She had been wounded by the creature, but had also damaged it. With the help of the new arrivals the creature was soon incapacitated. Seeing that a number of their fellows had already fallen, the rest of the rhodin dispersed into the darkness in some disarray. Mezezar and Obur went among the injured and used their magic to heal or stem their wounds. One caravan driver who was unconscious due to blood loss was brought back to wakefulness through Obur痴 channelling of the green.

The caravan master congratulated them on their efforts as they were finishing their ministrations. Mezezar took the opportunity to speak to the caravan master about a sibeccai that he was seeking. Although the caravan master was not familiar with the name, he promised that he壇 ask around or find some other way to help. Since they found that their skills complemented each other well, the three decided to find out more about each other with a view to forming a partnership. Ke-Tant and Obur did not have much to say for themselves, except to express and interest for advancement and wealth. They probed Mezezar about his reasons for wanting to find this sibeccai. He told them much about his background. The three decided to call themselves the Mokers from their initials and agreed to share all that they found equally amongst the group. They approached the woman that they had fought with earlier. They discovered that her name was Mera Reerance, a human witch. She accepted their offer of an equal place in the Mokers at least for the time being. Mezezar was especially anxious to ensure that she joined up.

A few days later as the city of Khorl was visible below them on the coast, the caravan master approached the Mokers and explained that he had considered Mezezar痴 request for assistance and thought that the best thing to do was to put the Mojh in touch with a contact that he had in the city. Brother Egil was a disciple of Vekik, The Runegod and could be found or contacted at the temple to Vekik in the city. Since this temple gathered information from all areas of Khorl, Egil might be able to help them on their quest for knowledge of Eritic the Invincible.

The Mokers travelled through Khorl with the caravan and down to the docks. There they stood guard while the wagons were unloaded into warehouses and on to ships. It was only after all the trade goods were accounted for that they were given their final coin and sent on their way. The temple was in a prosperous district abutting the old city and once they entered the vaulted main hall they could see many priests studying and copying from parchments and scrolls, seeking meaning in all the symbols of communication. When they enquired after Brother Egil, the novice immediately set off to find him and left the Mokers to admire the architecture. It wasn稚 long until a modest human arrived to speak to them and to draw them off to his own alcove, which he cordoned off with a plush curtain. Once they had revealed their intent and that the caravan master had sent them, Brother Egil seemed eager to help, although he had no immediate knowledge to share. He did, however, seem to be troubled by another matter, namely the disappearance of a friend of his; a scribe named Lucius. Two days ago he had disappeared, echoing a time six years ago when he had disappeared in bizarre circumstances, only to reappear five years later with no apparent memory of the intervening time, begging to be restored to the temple.

Lucius returned to the temple, and it was just like old times for eight or nine months. Then he started to look haggard, and he told me he wasn稚 sleeping well. Something was disturbing him, but he wouldn稚 say what. He started asking a lot of questions about what he had been like right before his expulsion. The high priest talked to him about it, but Lucius wouldn稚 let it go.

"I grew increasingly worried for my friend. He seemed on the brink of insanity, as if one small thing could push him over the edge. Two days ago, he failed to come to the temple. I went to his home and found it empty. I searched all over but could not find him. The priests of my temple deny it, but I know that something has happened to Lucius. I want you to find out what.�

The Mokers asked about accommodation in the city and Egil recommended the Scholar痴 Quill, an inn between the temple and Lucius痴 house. He accompanied them there and got them a preferential rate. So that he would not miss evening prayers, Brother Egil hurried them out and on to Lucius痴 house to see if they could turn up anything of interest. The house itself was very modest and inside they found a To Do list written by Lucius and hidden in a desk under a false bottom they found a diary. In the basement they found recently constructed shelves on every wall and some that were free standing, but there was no book on any of them. The Mokers retired to the Quill and Lucius to the temple to ponder these things.

To Do List

Things to do:
Get some sleep!
Talk to Cpt. Scarbelly
Turnips
Update diary
Examine travel logs
Get more sleep!

Diary

From six years ago:
I awoke this morning frightfully fatigued. I feel as if I had spent the night in combat, not sleeping. My head hurts, and I feel weak. I can稚 miss work at the temple, but I think I値l confine myself to light tasks today.

The next entry is dated five years later:
The god help me! What happened? I awoke from some strange dream to find that
five years have passed! Egil told me I was kicked out of the temple four years ago for violating the sanctum. Surely this is madness!

From six months ago:
Life has resumed a kind of normality. I have won admittance back into the temple.
My reception was strange, but everyone seems relieved that I am 澱ack to my old self.� I have so many questions about these missing years but it seems best to simply move on with my life now. If the god wills it, knowledge will come to me.

From four months ago:
Egil says that Milos was asking after me again, that he was worried about another 兎pisode.� Maybe he痴 simply concerned for the temple, but surely I have sufficiently proven myself by now. My life is mine again, and I知 not giving it up!

From two months ago:
The dreams came again last night. I don稚 know that I値l ever get a good night痴 sleep! I dreamt of cities as tall as the clouds and creatures so alien in form that I can稚 describe them. Does this have something to do with my lost years or is this some fresh torment?

From one month ago:
It痴 clear to me now that I must find some answer if I知 ever to make the dreams stop. Thuron and Milos tried to discourage me悠 think they fear what might happen to their temple. A pity their compassion does not extend to a living being.

From one week ago:
I have begun to feel like I知 being watched. I pray this is not a further milestone
on the road to madness. I think I値l take my dagger with me in the morning. In a city like Khorl, I suppose one can稚 be too careful, especially with pirates in port.