Years later I find myself back in the desert of my homeland. It has changed much from what I remember. It has expanded beyond the simple oasis of my youth and become a vibrant walled city. The people throughout this land are insular and fearful yet trade willingly with those who have coin. In this particular city it does not hurt that their often imagined invaders and raiders have been living side by side with them for years without battle, and now themselves have a fair amount of influence. The city is quieter than those near the center of these lands and my own stay has been uneventful thus far.
My journey here is undocumented. I have no reason for this. I have failed at endevours, yet triumphed among others yet felt nothing worth journaling. I find myself older, broken by my travails yet still full of seeking. I have what I need for now, The Woman, a small amount of coin, and my family. A Brother more mad than sane, rambling his chtonic versus whilst living amongst those that dwell in the dark. A Father still living the wars of his youth, fighting both old demons and the new ideas that the future brings. A next generation of nieces and nephews to instruct and care for.
These last years have not been kind to my body. I have let my alchemical skills with insects fade and wither and relied much more on my stamina and endurance to survive and find work. I have withstood blizzards and burning sun in order to survey lands for capricious vassal lords till I could stand no more. I have crossed hundreds of leagues on foot in search of treasure that was not to be found and very likely never existed. And so exhausted and seeking change I reached out to an old ally, The Lieutenant. He had found himself in a far off land,and while in better circumstances, still served another not to his liking. A faustian deal was struck. I would forego serving another for a time, surviving off my hidden cache of coins, and dabble in mysteries and chaos. On my back would our new kingdom be built with the secrets of the etheral plane.
I find myself again a novice, this time meddling not in realm of the natural, but in the realm of gods, the domain of mages and warlocks. I begin by trying to take its most simple tricks such as glamours and visions and make them my own. There is coin to be made here and I will find it. There is no academy this time. Only the missives of far off mentors, sages and wizards peddling their teachings for a price, regardless of the consequences their unattended magic brings. It will be a long path, and likely a dangerous one. In the meantime I can not survive off of magic alone. I have squandered much while savoring calling no man master. I now am forced to seek opportunities to use my old skills to lead men, mix potions, or to hunt the giant scorpions and arachnids of these lands but as of yet I have found nothing. I still remain hopeful. The lethargy of winter has begun to shake off these people, the insects and arachnids have begun to stir. I will find use here and in turn will recieve the coin I need to continue my experiments.
My journey here is undocumented. I have no reason for this. I have failed at endevours, yet triumphed among others yet felt nothing worth journaling. I find myself older, broken by my travails yet still full of seeking. I have what I need for now, The Woman, a small amount of coin, and my family. A Brother more mad than sane, rambling his chtonic versus whilst living amongst those that dwell in the dark. A Father still living the wars of his youth, fighting both old demons and the new ideas that the future brings. A next generation of nieces and nephews to instruct and care for.
These last years have not been kind to my body. I have let my alchemical skills with insects fade and wither and relied much more on my stamina and endurance to survive and find work. I have withstood blizzards and burning sun in order to survey lands for capricious vassal lords till I could stand no more. I have crossed hundreds of leagues on foot in search of treasure that was not to be found and very likely never existed. And so exhausted and seeking change I reached out to an old ally, The Lieutenant. He had found himself in a far off land,and while in better circumstances, still served another not to his liking. A faustian deal was struck. I would forego serving another for a time, surviving off my hidden cache of coins, and dabble in mysteries and chaos. On my back would our new kingdom be built with the secrets of the etheral plane.
I find myself again a novice, this time meddling not in realm of the natural, but in the realm of gods, the domain of mages and warlocks. I begin by trying to take its most simple tricks such as glamours and visions and make them my own. There is coin to be made here and I will find it. There is no academy this time. Only the missives of far off mentors, sages and wizards peddling their teachings for a price, regardless of the consequences their unattended magic brings. It will be a long path, and likely a dangerous one. In the meantime I can not survive off of magic alone. I have squandered much while savoring calling no man master. I now am forced to seek opportunities to use my old skills to lead men, mix potions, or to hunt the giant scorpions and arachnids of these lands but as of yet I have found nothing. I still remain hopeful. The lethargy of winter has begun to shake off these people, the insects and arachnids have begun to stir. I will find use here and in turn will recieve the coin I need to continue my experiments.
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