Leilania Meets a Stranger
The new moon rises above Mount Branthlend. I’m not sure any of my companions can see her in the dim mists of early morning, but I can feel her draw, like a weight that pulls my attention upward. As the day progresses, perhaps I will have time to sing to her. But for now it’s all blood and business.
We have teleported to the abbey where we thought the enemy was carrying out some vile research into poison weapons, only to find a poorly executed trap had been laid for our arrival. Our appearance in the midst of our would-be assassins seemed to catch them completely off guard, and those that did not surrender were quickly dispatched. Their leader, a man accursed with arourathropy, confessed to their plan and the man who had set them to it — King Irovetti. Jacek saw fit to let the wererat leave after his confession, though he did place a geass on him to assure he would not return.
Now, confident that the greater threat has been neutralized, we are scouring the abbey grounds to try to understand what has happened here. We found a hostile plant creature in the graveyard and made short work of it. We’ve also uncovered what appears to be a corrupted water spirit in the abbey’s well. I will not leave here until we’ve done what we can for it.
But strangely, even in the middle of the investigation and fighting, my mind wanders to a recent meeting with a stranger at the edge of the Narlmarches. For some reason, the encounter keeps my attention even when matters of war and state are far more pressing.
On my return trip from Brevoy, I met a silver-haired elf in the forest, one I had never seen before. He told me his name was Iliphar Daegirelle and offered a pleasant smile. I greeted him with my own name and offered to share some of the leaf from Tatzlford’s herbal gardens. One thing led to another, and we had a pleasant afternoon among the trees, one I’m sure he won’t forget anytime soon.
Strangely though, I find it is my thoughts that stay preoccupied with the encounter. There was something odd about Iliphar, something I haven’t quite been able to put my finger on. I invited him back to Tatzlford when our tryst was done, though he demurred and said he had other matters to attend to. Hopefully though, I will have another chance to meet this strange man. He was an intriguing fellow, the kind of person you hope turns up to your party even without invitation. I certainly wouldn’t mind walking in the trees with him again.
Maybe it’s only idle curiosity that keeps my thoughts circling this strange encounter. But the moon sings that there may be something more here.
For now though, we must resolve the corruption of the abbey and perhaps fight a war. To be honest, the entire matter is wearing at my nerves. I know the moon wants me here and I am eager to serve, but I wish the impending conflict had not robbed so many of my friends of their levity. Even on the eve of battle, there is beauty to find and fun to be had. We can’t forget that.
I hum as I walk and turn to the moon to have her know I see her. Tonight, with luck, I will be able to commune at length from the solace of Tatzlford’s gardens. Until then, business calls.