Geowulf's Journal
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There are three journals which belonged to Geowulf, all of which are found inside the Temple of Xik Minru on Vissidal Island.
Geowulf's Journal
Part of a journal belonging to Geowulf the Stonehearted.
Journey Log 1
Branwyn and I had an argument earlier this day. My father is growing more sickly with each passing day and soon will reach the point where not even a lifestone could revive him. I want to move to Glenden Wood to be near him during what may be his final days. But Branwyn, so wrapped up in her market stand, doesn't want to leave Arwic for fear of the lack of income. Glenden Wood stands to be a very profitable town, I know of several allegiances that call it home. I doubt she would miss a pyreal there. But alas she
remains adamant. I love her, but at times she can be so uncaring.
After our argument, I promptly left the cottage and made my way to Glenden Wood to visit father. Aunt Wyna does good looking after him, but I am sure she would like a reprieve once in a while. I brought father his monougat (Auntie Wyna would skin me had she seen me sneak him those) and the most recent Crier's Ballot to read. Home bound as he is, he relishes the opportunity to hear of the world.
Bidding both father and Auntie Wyna farewell for the day, I returned to Arwic and then made my way to the mountain pass. It is a trail I am all too familiar with, but I enjoy the hike. The wintry air clears my thoughts. Something well-needed given the events of earlier in the day.
I worked my way west along the Lost Wish ridge where I ran across some comrades from Arwic who were hunting mattekars for their fur trade. They invited me to stay the night at their cottage in Colier View Hill. The small cottage was crowded but the fire was cozy and the company
friendly.
Journey Log 2
Biding my friends farewell, I embarked north towards MacDugal's stronghold. Normally I avoid that sort, but I was short on bandages, and an adventurer never enters the wilds without his healing kits.
My thoughts drifted to Branwyn as I passed one of the Tremblant standing stones. I had brought her there three years ago, just before we married. We camped on the hill behind the stone and watched
the sun rise, and set, over the mountains. We were only pestered by a lone mattekar, but it was only interested in seeing what we were doing, not causing any damage. I wonder if Branwyn is still upset.
I took my midday meal at the border of the blighted lands and the end of the Lost Wish mountains. The Olthoi have done horrible things to that land. There are only but a few pristine locations left in that valley, though those are often guarded by things worse than Olthoi.
I arrived at the Haliana cottages shortly before sunset and just in time to meet up with more fellows. They were planning to spend the evening lightning fireworks and watching the borealis, and happily invited me to join them for the evening. Another evening of entertainment and cramped quarters with good friends. I shall walk the
shores tomorrow and then return to Arwic to my beloved Branwyn. Hopefully we can discuss the matter of Glenden Wood and my father with more civility than we had two days ago.
-- Geowulf
Geowulf's Journal
Part of a journal belonging to Geowulf the Stonehearted.
Journal Log 3
I awoke mid morning after a late evening of Angry Ale and fireworks. Arranging my hiking gear into my packs and trading my heavier wool wear for something more fitting of a shoreline stroll, I left Haliana and walked east along the coast.
Afternoon soon fell upon me and my stomach rumbled with hunger. I sat upon a dune and began to prepare a hearty ration or two. As I did this, I heard a rumbling coming from out to sea. The weather out to sea must be fierce.
Journal Log 4
I write this by a waning taper within the gullet of some monstrosity. The rumbling I heard wasn't that of weather, but of some great leviathan. I carelessly wandered the edge of the shore when a great winged beast rose from the surf and beached itself in front of me. Shocked, I attempted to backpedal, but was met with the maw of the beast.
Oh Brawyn! Had we not argued, this would not be my fate. Consumed whole within the belly of some unknown
leviathan, waiting death and digestion. Luckily, there has been enough debris in here to keep me out of the acids of its gut, though I know not how long that fortune will last.
My supply of tapers and luminous gems is steadily decreasing. I must find a way out from here.
-- Geowulf
Geowulf's Journal
Part of a journal belonging to Geowulf the Stonehearted.
Journal Log 5
I must admit that I am somewhat impressed with my resourcefulness. I scavenged through the debris littered about the gut of the leviathan and happened across a scepter. It possessed just enough magic to strike a flame upon the corroding drift wood
Needless to say, fire within the belly of the beast was not well taken and I was shortly expelled upon this unknown shore. My head still spins from the blow I received after the beast promptly spat me
out. My injuries have prevented me from making any attempts at a rudimentary recall escape.
Strange trees the likes of which I have never seen. Niffis shells, as well as the shell of creatures I have never seen before, lay scattered across the land.
I happened across some Mosswarts, much to my surprise. They are wary of my presence, though I get the distinct impression that they would think much more highly of me with I were to bring some "Stot" or "Wantir Lacker", whatever
those are.
Journal Log 6
The Mosswarts have driven me from their village and I am now lost. I've found this temple, but I cannot stay here. The lower levels host a multitude of things skittering about in the dark, always lurking along the edge of my vision, but always dashing away as soon as I turn to meet them in the eye. The upper levels are haunted by the undead.
The cadavers and other worm-ridden
shamblers of this place have driven me to this small room. I've managed to barricade myself within this small room, but the undead wail against the door, moaning for a sacrifice. There will be no sleeping here, though with each passing hour I grow drowsy.
This cannot be my fate, my last hours. My last words with my beloved wife cannot be those of ire. I dare not submit myself to the motives of the undead in these ruins. Rumors speak of undead capable of severing ones bond to a lifestone and I dare not risk such a death, not when
others could arrive. The mosswarts could come... they could bring their king Argram Unkpresank.
Journal Log 7
Their efforts have doubled and the doors bend under the stress of their attacks. My treated kits cannot fix the concussion I have, merely treat my scrapes and bruises. There is not hope of surviving this I am afraid.
I accept this now. But I wll not go without a fight. I mean to take several of them to
the grave with me before they get my heart.
Branwyn, should this ever find its way into your hands, please know this - I love you with all my heart. I have always loved you. I'm sorry that we never got the chance to live our lives together longer than we have.
Tell Auntie Wyna what happened. Tell her and my father that I love them.
The door is shattering as I write these last lines. I must arm what few traps I have and steel myself for this fight.
Always with love,
Geowulf
-- Geowulf