Agenar’s journal, page 241

This morning, Wynlynn told us that Travis tried to escape during the night, and somehow Pantaghion wanted to help. When she repeated what the woodman said, I recognized a command spell – and since this is only effective if spoken, we have gagged him using the rags that had wrapped my feet. I really must buy some boots at next opportunity.

A long day’s march brought us to the Glade as evening fell, and while the others took Travis to the fort for Wilhelm’s attention, I retreated to the Yeoman’s Apple. I was enjoying my ale – how thirsty one gets, after some days without – when Travis, fully recovered, entered and asked Darian Ionadi, the barkeep, about mail. He did have a letter waiting, and joined me by the fire to read it.

Travis was pointing out a passage that concerns Dagon’s Reach – the glowing crystal is, the Archivist says, called Diapson, and it is a conduit for spellcraft – when Pantaghion also came in. The paladin ordered an ale and joined us. He was telling me that Wilhelm had used Greater Restoration, a spell beyond either of us and requiring a quantity of diamond dust, to heal Travis, extracting a cloud of gnats from him in the process. The medic had bottled these strange bugs and given them to Val, so I may see them myself soon.

Pantaghion had hardly finished relating this, though, when he noticed a strange hooded figure in the corner and became agitated. I did not recognize the man, or any of the customers, as it seemed those I had known before were all elsewhere, but ordered another drink and crossed the room to make his acquaintance.

The fellow ignored me, staring at Pantaghion while munching on a turkey leg. The paladin took umbrage and came over; I shrugged, drained the tankard, and went back to discussing Travis’s news.

A crash drew our attention across the room, though; Pantaghion had flipped the man’s dinner to the floor, and was being restrained from attack by a recently-arrived Val and Wynlynn.

Travis stepped over, towering above the others but sounding conciliatory. Money changed hands, and the man, now calling himself Jerry, admitted that he had been sent from Dranseri to spy on Pantaghion. The paladin was furious, until learning that his father had arranged it all.

Suddenly, he was filled with zeal for a visit to the city.

Travis, perhaps unwisely, invited Jerry to make his work easy by joining our group, and Jerry agreed. Appeased, Pantaghion returned to his residence; Travis and Wynlynn, likewise, left for the schoolhouse.

Val settled by the fire with a drink and I made arrangement with Ionadi to take a room upstairs. After years of keeping my own company, I cannot crowd into the schoolhouse with the others, and for twenty gold on account, Darian assured me that my things and I will be undisturbed.

I returned to the fire, where Val now sat alone pensively with a tankard of mead. After several moments of silence, I asked what trouble she saw. She turned to look at me, as if reaching a difficult decision, and said, “Agenar, can I stay with you? Ula – Wynlynn and I aren’t together. Any more.” Her voice caught, but she continued, “I don’t have anywhere else.”

Stunned, I nodded. “It is a public house,” I said. “Let me ask Darian, I’m sure he has room.”

“No,” she said. “With you. I’ll sleep better.”

I choked on my ale, but then nodded. Signaling Ionadi, when he arrived with fresh drinks I said, “Anything she wants, so long as I have gold.” The barkeep, having already placed us abed together once, smiled knowingly.

Now, Val sleeps in my bed as I write, for I fear to join her. It is hard, sleeping next to, but not with, such beauty, and I am weak. May the white dragon’s breath give me strength.