Royal Library of Throal: Miscellaneous Manuscripts

[Earthdawn]

By The Decree of Good King Neden, the Royal Library of Throal doth renew its commitment to sponsor and promote the efforts of those Adepts who seek the preservation of life, the prosperity of future generations, the promulgation of the Council Compact, and/or the perfection of all knowledge and wisdom and culture.

[tianawilson]

By The Decree of Good King Neden, the Royal Library of Throal doth renew its commitment to sponsor and promote the efforts of those Adepts who seek the preservation of life, the prosperity of future generations, the promulgation of the Council Compact, and/or the perfection of all knowledge and wisdom and culture.

In response, I will fill you in on the life of the calvary dwarf known as Rensa. Rensa is from the kingdom of Throal and she has a white pony named Wintry. She comes from a family that, during the scourge, they were all vets of the cure to make sure that livestock was healthy and survived. This included people with pets, and stables with horses/ponies. She got Wintry as payment for taking care of his parents.

After the dwarves emerge, Rensa transitions from strictly a vet to physician for a scouting troop. She has learned about wilderness survival, navigation, tracking, wild animals, and creature lore. She knows how to ride a pony as she took care of them and other animals as a vet as a form of exercise for both. Rensa also knows alchemy and potions (poisons/meds) and charge to fight off people and avoid blow.

She has raised Wintry since he was a baby in the stables and he knows how to complete simple commands and trusts her.

Rensa uses a dwarf sword as a weapon. She speaks the common throalic language but learned how to speak the troll language after treating several animals owned by trolls. She is compassionate and courageous. If someone or something is hurting she shows compassion and tries to heal them. If she sees someone dangerous attacking, she charges forward and attacks with Wintry, defending others
(her heat sight helps to sense them).

[Yor'tel]

Reflections on Yor'Tel from the Lost Diary of Jorgen, Leader of a Dwarven Caravan:

"...The coming of Yor’Tel, a traveling swordsmith from Skol, is oft heralded by rumors and fear. It is not that he is particularly evil or violent; he is just exceptionally ugly. Born with a vein of gold across his right eye, Yor’Tel developed a penchant for making funny faces at the other children of his liferock. As he matured, however, his muscles petrified, locking his face into a permanent scowl, and lending truth to the adage: 'Don’t make that face, it might get stuck that way.'

In spite of his visage, Yor’Tel found great success amongst the Obsidimen of Skol. His unusual birthmark afforded him an uncanny ability to detect and evaluate precious metals and ores, and he soon found himself amongst the great smiths of his tribe. In spite of his peaceful nature, Yor’Tel is particularly skilled at perfecting blades, maces, and other instruments of death. Having such close knowledge of the hidden nature of weaponry, Yor’Tel is exceptionally adept at anticipating, and parrying attacks.

In the spare hours between perfecting his craft and guard duty, Yor’Tel enacted plays in a small cave off the side of the mountain. Initially a wolf’s den, he cleared the floor of furs and bones, created a stage, and spent hours imagining stories and performing grand soliloquies to a hunter’s skull in the corner. As the scourge ceased, Yor’Tel began to feel a sense of wanderlust, along with a desire to create, and live his own story. Shortly after turning 150 years old, he left the Liferock and joined my caravan, where he served as a guard for many years.

Last I heard, Yor’Tel uses his blacksmithing abilities to fund his own adventure, joining various companies in hopes of becoming one of the grand heroes he idolized in his plays. He has learned to speak and read Throalic, and while he favors the reach of poleaxes, he wields a fierce Battle Axe. Yet I know his most important possession is the hunter’s skull suspended from his belt, an audience to witness the events of his most grand story..."

[Khrag]

Excerpt from The Khr'Agarwrol,

I am a true son of the sky, born of lightning and stone.

My name is earned in the tradition of SkyReach, by taking the parts from those not worthy to keep them. I record their tales here:

Khrevis Agularn was a human slaver who thought to make a profit by stealing troll whelps from the Reach and selling them to arenas for bloodsport. To his dismay he learned that troll teeth are strong and sharp at any age, his blood staining the mountainside, and his flesh serving the clan well through the winter. This gift I gave to my clan in my 10th year. He fought with valor and honor, and so I took his name from him as the beginning of my story.

Since then, I travel the world in search of great stories, either by finding them or creating them. Words worth remembering I record on my hide against the day I return to the Reach and add their truth to our truth. Names of worthy foes I cut from their broken bodies, adding them to my own as the ending of their story is an addition to mine, the names of the unworthy are forgotten.

I am Khr'Ag.

[TSrena]

From the Log of Captain T'Sgranat'sa I of the Vigilant, Sovereign Queen of the T'Skrang, called The Stalwart

I send you greetings and fair winds. This missive is to recommend for service as Adventure Adept, First Mate T'Srena of the Soaring.

T'Srena was born on what is now My ship, the Vigilant, to Myself, though I was not yet Captain nor Queen and I was known as T'Sgrana. As a hatch-ling, T'Srena, whose Hatch Name was Rena, quickly learned the craft of the air sailor and became rated as Able under the leadership of then-Captain, T'Sgeton. When Rena became of age, she earned the first part of her name by skillfully negotiating for fair trade among some of the Ork tribes to the West of the Serpent River. At this time, T'Srena was transferred to the Soaring so she could earn her own place among Our people without fear of accusation of familial favoritism.

I am told by Captain T'Stotag of the Soaringthat T'Srena became bo's'n two years earlier than is usual among our kind, due to her ambition. T'Srena has since risen through the ranks to First Mate due to her ability to lead, her prowess with tail-combat and the use of tri-spear, her good-humored nature, her exquisite map-making artistry, and her court dancing. Her hearty laughter has been said to boost the morale of all who hear it.

T'Srena is now at the stage of her life in which all T'Skrang spend part of the year with the land-dwelling Namegivers to exchange cultural ideas, establish trade routes, and build the T'Skrang's personal legend. She maintains her rank as First Mate of the Soaring, though she is not actively serving at this time. She is a princess to Our people, though one of many Hatch-mates. It is My wish that T'Srena continue her tutelage as a princess by learning about Our people and the peoples of Barsaive through trade, adventure, and leadership. I foresee T'Srena at the front of great events, along with any she chooses as comrades. I speak for her as a Captain of the merchant fleet, Queen of the T'Skrang, and as a mother.

Captain T'Sgranat'sa I of the Vigilant, Sovereign Queen of the T'Skrang, called The Stalwart

[TSrena]

From the Log of First Mate T’Srena, one princess among many to the throne of the T’Skrang.

I had just finished serving several weeks of guard detail with Khr'Ag the story-collecting troll and the calvary dwarf Rensa and her pony Wintry. We were waiting for our applications to be processed to serve as adventure adepts. The day after we completed our duty, we entered into a gladiator-style tournament at a Gate Opening Remembrance Day. It was supposed to have been non-lethal, but when the match ended, a few combatants were left dead: two humans, an orc, and a T’Skrang. None of the deceased were familiar to me or to my comrades.

Omri, the commander of the city guard, caused all of the combatants, the living ones, anyway, to be rooted to the ground while statements of the civilians were taken. Finally, we were uprooted and escorted to a holding cell within the cairn so that our statements could be taken. I pointed out that some orcs had been in the audience, yelling encouragement to their orc friend in the ring. These orcs had disappeared prior to Omri’s root spell. I had to prove my non-Taint, so I sketched in a passable map of the hallway to the holding cell.

Omri told Khr’Ag, Rensa, and myself that if our applications were approved, it would greatly improve our chances of being found innocent of the murders. Or at least, that we might not be held for much longer. We were told that we needed Lead Scholar Quinten to meet with us to approve our applications.

Quinten informed us that he was too busy to meet with us at that time and to return in a few hours’ time. So, with nothing better to do, we three explored the cairn and I continued to sketch in details of my map. Khr’Ag found himself intrigued by a partially excavated wall relief. He started cleaning it but the curator of that room found him and yelled for us to leave. I have to give the dwarf credit; it takes great bravery to yell at someone almost three times your own size. I calmed the poor dwarf and we returned to Quinten’s office, only to find that a line had formed outside of his office.

I asked in T’Skrangi of the five T’Skrang males at the end of the line what the line was for, and they, dear ones, responded in unison that they were trying to get their applications processed. Ah, I remember those days when it was such fun to mimic your like-colored Hatch-mates and pass yourselves off as one being. I politely informed them that I had a prior appointment, and would they be so kind as to let me pass in front of them. This broke them of their game, as some were inclined and some were staunchly against. Rensa, meanwhile, simply knocked on the door to Quinten’s office and went in. Such boldness! It seems that some situations require less tact and more…bravado. Khr’Ag and I followed suit, but not before I bowed my leave of the quintet. I made sure to flash the insignia ring I have looped through my left frill so they would know why I was cutting in line. I do not wear other jewelry from my lineage; they would only be caught in the ship’s cordage. However, it is sometimes useful to politely pull rank in a hurry, so I maintain the one.

Lead Scholar Quinten informed us that he simply could not do anything further to help us, but as Rensa’s application had been granted while we were being questioned, she could possibly vouch for us via earth-mail, but we would need to go to the couriers’ office. At this time, a feeble and dirty dwarf with a large and bloody bandage around his head rushed in, bolted the door, and demanded of Quinten that his application be approved. In his haste, he apparently did not notice the three of us standing there. Quinten refused, on the grounds that the dwarf, who was apparently named Breezh, had failed the artisanal check. Breezh insisted that he did not have the Taint, that his injury had caused him to fail. He went on to claim that his wife can’t get work, his children have been kicked out of school, and he was terrified that his family would starve. He was clearly at the end of his rope and when Quinten again refused Breezh, he threw a set of air restraints onto Quinten and then rushed around Quinten’s desk to root around inside. Khr’Ag then made to unbolt the door, but Breezh suddenly noticed him, screamed desperately, and threw air restraints on to Khr’Ag. Now really. This had gone on quite long enough.

Seeing that Breezh had pulled another weapon stone from his pocket, I tail-slapped it out of his hand. Omri, the city guard commander, managed to break through the door, where he tackled the dirty and raving dwarf, tied him up, and then hauled him off. Quinten showed me a stone in his desk that would break the air restraints. At that time, I expressed concern that the dwarf clearly needed a medical doctor and possibly a psychologist. Quinten showed the distaste of those who are convinced that oddity is proof of Taint, as well as a lack of concern for Breezh’s family. I shall be glad to no longer need to toady up to him to get my application processed.

We three then left to convince Omri to get help for the injured dwarf. On our way there, Khr’Ag “persuaded” a windling to return Rensa’s medical kit that she had “misplaced”. The troll who had been standing in line as well, who called himself Zohar, then offered to hire us on a town-leaving mission. He could not be troubled to describe it, but we politely informed him that we would be unable to take any quests unless we had permission to leave. We are under orders to not leave town until the investigation into the murders is complete.

At Omri’s office, Rensa and I worked to convince him to let Rensa medically examine Breezh. We pointed out that he could actually be injured enough to change his personality and be unable to perform the artisanal check. While Omri is somewhat small-minded in that he never thought to actually LOOK at the bandaged area or check Breezh’s wife and children for artistic ability, he was made to see reason when he admitted he did not want to kill a potentially innocent life. Besides, he knew the panic that would ensue if word got out that he, Omri, had come in contact with Breezh and that Omri, Quinten, and the three of us could all be carrying the Taint. He sent word that we could examine the prisoner in a containment cell.

We got to the cell, only to discover that it was like a funeral hole in the ground. A pit with no light to entomb the living dwarf inside. Ugh. They had taken everything from Breezh, including his clothes. Nearly everything. His filthy bandage was untouched on his head. He lay naked and shivering on the ground inside the cell. Tears ran like rivers down his face and he was moaning about his poor family. We had agreed beforehand that Khr’Ag would restrain Breezh in case Breezh was a danger to himself or to us. Rensa was able to calm Breezh and finally give him the medical attention he needed. It turns out that his skull was partially caved-in, in an injury consistent with a horse kick. EXACTLY as he had claimed in the first place. The relief in his eyes when we told him of the evidence, that we would seek to get him proper care, it was beyond mere gratitude. It looked as though his very soul returned to him, enlivening him with hope. Khr’Ag agreed to stay in the cell to keep Breezh company while Rensa and I returned to Omri with our evidence.

Omri then gave us a temporary reprieve, long enough to escort Breezh to a medical facility and hopefully set him up with a qualified mind-healer as well. We are to return in one week’s time. Omri GENEROUSLY gave us a prisoner smock to clothe Breezh. Ancestors save me from these small-minded, paranoid fools.

After we clothe Breezh, we will go to see his wife to inform her of the plans to take him to a medical facility. While we are there, we might as well obtain the rest of the evidence needed for Breezh’s case and ask her and the children to demonstrate their artisan abilities.

[Nimbia]

By The Decree of Good King Neden, the Royal Library of Throal doth renew its commitment to sponsor and promote the efforts of those Adepts who seek the preservation of life, the prosperity of future generations, the promulgation of the Council Compact, and/or the perfection of all knowledge and wisdom and culture.

“Not all who wander are lost”

As a young elf, Nimbia found that she was different from most elves. While the rest of her family studied spells and magic, she wanted to spend her time in the near-by forest. She felt safe enveloped in the protection of the trees, quietly moving among nature, both on and above the ground. By the time she had reached maturity, she said farewell to her family and set off to find her path.

As she wandered through life, she began to see the evil and injustice in the realm. Her heart ached for those wronged and she decided to make it her mission to help those who needed it. Once she discovered she had an enhanced ability for stealth and thievery from her time spent alone as a youngling, she began her journey to help those in need. Although her skills as a thief are high, she has made a few missteps during some of her missions. Because of this, she has also had to study combat in order to defend herself, and others she is protecting.

While she does prefer to work alone, Nimbia finds herself longing for company and family. She occasionally joins traveling adventurers on their altruistic and/or philanthropic quests in her own search for acceptance. Though she has traveled with many groups, she has rarely made intimate friends, knowing that she will soon be off again on her solo journey.

[Zole Smasher]

By The Decree of Good King Neden, the Royal Library of Throal doth renew its commitment to sponsor and promote the efforts of those Adepts who seek the preservation of life, the prosperity of future generations, the promulgation of the Council Compact, and/or the perfection of all knowledge and wisdom and culture.

"The world has a rhythm. That rhythm is best heard percussively using a large club."

Zole, or the Rhythm Smasher as he is called, emerged from his Liferock and instantly heard the sounds coming from the earth, the water, and the skies. This rhythm is the true order of the world,
and his greatest contribution is the sound he makes beating on things with large carved sticks.

So Zole wanders the land, playing his own made drums and carving variously sized and designed clubs from the trees he finds. He wanders following the rhythm as he hears it,
but also listening for dissonance. Those unnatural things that disrupt the tune of order, are his most hated of creatures. They must be smashed, with the largest of clubs,
so that the beautiful tune the world wants to play can be heard clearly.

His travels recently took him to a clan of elves, with whom he got along quite well. They had a strong appreciation for his drum playing, most like from sheer novelty,
and they agreed on appreciation of the natural world and all its granduer.

Zole finds it a pity they are less able to hear the beat of the world, but is patient and willing to pound the beat for as long as necessary on drums, stones, or skulls until they can hear it.

[Khrag]

Personal Remembrances of Khr'Ag, Son of Skyreach:

We talked to Breezh's wife...bit of a harridan that one, I can see why the poor sot drank...anyway, apparently the leadup to their whole mess was the disappearance of their two kids, seems they went off to join some group affiliated with Thera. Seems they were handing out advertisements on paper, interesting way to forment rebellion. While we were talking to the harpy, a friend of hers came by and then we found out that kids going missing has been a common thing lately, and the common thread has been a bell ringing at night. So we stage ourselves all around the town so we can be out past our mandatory bed-times (dwarves...), and lo and behold we hear a bell. A bit of looking around shows it to be an airship! We had a brief idea of kind of quietly following it until it let down ropes and then getting onboard, but the local constables screwed that up, irritating considering they hadn't noticed the blasted thing for weeks, now all of a sudden its a problem. Once they noticed the commotion, the airship crew decided to get out of town quick, and we gave chase. We saw it come to rest in the woods some days travel away. We were making good time until we ran into that sewer rat pickpocket Vikas. He came into camp saying that he had to get some box back to Investigator Quentin within 2 days, and he couldn't get it to him because he had skipped his parole. He also said that he had information on this Theran rabble-rousing group we're after. So the only way we get at the information he says he has is if we bring the box back before the deadline. I don't know what it is about honorless people, but they are always the ones who demand that you swear that you will do something. Folks with honor just say they will or won't and have done. So whenever anyone starts demanding that I swear to do something, I immediately start thinking they are looking to play me. I told him I would bring the box back within the deadline...I want to hear what he has to say...if I don't like it I may just crush his head anyway. Garbage like him always sees folk with honor as marks to be manipulated, especially outsiders. Katorr does not require me to allow myself to be used by a slimy piece of filth.

[athosdebro]

By The Decree of Good King Neden, the Royal Library of Throal doth renew its commitment to sponsor and promote the efforts of those Adepts who seek the preservation of life, the prosperity of future generations, the promulgation of the Council Compact, and/or the perfection of all knowledge and wisdom and culture.

Apologies for the delay in sending this information. Our branch of the Royal Library was swamped with the semester of students and hopeful applicants. A human Archer Adept known as Alan O' the Dale was the topic on which we wished to inform you.
Born to a large and...eccentric...human clan living on the edges of civilization in the years following the emergence of races from our defenses and walled-cities, Alan is a "gabby barber" to use his colorful turn of phrase. He is committed to his craft as an archer, but effects a carefree, laid back attitude while keeping all targets and surroundings in mind. He spent his early years hunting alongside his kin. He is fond of referencing stories about his relatives (and in a clan based society there's a lot of them), many of whom are (if the stories are accurate) perhaps a touch insane, though not Tainted. Mentioned thus far are his cousin Thomas who evidently had tallied a number of deaths from bounty hunting (we hope he meant bounty hunting) but stopped after his wedding (Alan indicated Tom's wife scared him so badly Tom didn't dare cross her or distress her with killing people) and his cousin Colom who is no longer welcome within 10 miles of one of the nearby farming communities (whether this was due to rumored romantic assignations with several farmers' daughters or due to being found unconscious and naked wrapped in cabbage leaves sleeping next to 3 empty kegs of winter ale, though Alan rapidly insisted that the cabbage leaves were circumstantial...a little too rapidly for my comfort)

[tianawilson]

Log of the Dwarf known as Rensa:

I had been held up in the village of Tsenen due to an irregularity with processing my application and a problem with locating my geneological history. Thankfully things were sorted out and I was able to send a message to the rest of the group with an enclosed voucher to see if there was a way for me to find them and see if they needed help. After catching up with the group I foutnd out that they were about a day's ride out and the ship they were following is about 4 day's ride or 8 days walk. They were following the Alidar river and going east following an airship due to some mystery surrounding kidnapped kids. The group needed access to an airship so they wanted me to try to get ahold of someone from T'Srena's clan to see if they could help. I sent the letter and TSrena paid me back once I caught up with everyone on the trail later.

Everyone learned from Vikus that kids were being taken from Tsenen, but that there is not really a market for this and it is not really profitable for slavery. It looks like T'skrang and dwarves are both affected. He says he is an Adventure Adept and part of a legitimate business.

After Vikus left, the group opened the box that he left behind to see what was inside, after solving a riddle. There was long-hand writing in secretary script that no one knew how to read at this point in an unknown language. The box was put back together and Yor'tl is going back to Tsenen to deliver a box to Quentin as an obligation to Vikus.

I connected with the group along the riverbank. We all noticed a guard post with 4 human-looking guards. Nimbia silently walked for reconnaissance and saw a boat was docked, and that we were in a ravine between two mountains. All of a sudden, the airship we were following rose into the air but it was now painted sky blue instead of black. Allen and T'Srena went to go check things out further. When they came upon the guards they had bows aimed at them and they asked for a password. However, at that moment, 6 dwarven archers appeared and the they started to attack us. In the end, we won the battle.

[captkras]

From the personal journal of Sol'deo - Obsidiman Elementalist

Barsaive has changed much since I entered the long connection with the life rock, in an attempt at escaping the horrors. I was young and had only just started on my journey as an Elementalist, the passion of communing with the five spirits of life...Air, Water, Fire, Wood, and Earth. Keeping the balance between them appeals to me greatly. The long sleep taught me patience. And now that magic has started to subside, and the NameGiving races have started to shake off the sleep and fear, I journey once again on my path. I wonder what life will bring....maybe I will visit one of my favorite places, Kaern Vistremia.