A slim journal left at the Griffon

[probablyamage]

An apparently common journal is left in Greatgaunts in. There is plenty of space for any number of people to respond.






Thief, it's been a while. You never write, you never do a sending. Have I made you mad? Look, I don't care that the end result of a letter sent to the Anauroch is a dead and dessicated courier. I don't care that you can't get a sending through my wards. This is about you, not me. Have you been arrested? Well, tell your jailor who is no doubt equal parts cruel and seductive that you need to contact one Lustig Luther Latherion. Actually, you know what, if she's dressed like a typical Loviatan priestess, I can forgive your tardiness. Go on, have fun you crazy love birds. Or lust driven seductress/sadist and torturee/THE MAN respectively.

When your done with her, or more accurately, when she's done with you, grab a quill. Don't have a quill? Fashion a quill out of Loviatan fetish equipment. Grab some ink . No no, grab a pot of ink, not the ink itself. Can't find ink? Use your blood. It's a personal letter to your favorite target of malicious and wholly cruel theft. We're friends. Best friends, brothers really (Unless you're female, in which case the thing with the Loviatan takes on a whole new light. Oh, and you get to fight Hannah for number one sister status. I wouldn't recommend it though. She fights dirty.) No parchment? Well I guess you could tattoo a letter on to one of your mistress/jailor's other victims, and send that to me. Actually, do that. It will be just like the good old days when you were tattooing your responses on my daughter-book. You shameless bastard. SHE WAS MY DAUGHTER (kinda). You had no wright to plumb her depths and poke her with things.

Well, while you have been cozying up to your Loviatan (Anti-cozying?) Let me try again, while you have been ouchying up to your Loviatan, I have been engaged in new and exciting research! Actually no, that's mostly a lie. I have been lazy in a manner which involves much less laziness than you would expect. Wait for it, I promise that it will possibly make sense soon. Turns out that not doing everything.....everything with magic is more work than being as actively lazy as humanly possible. It seems we have these things called legs which, contrary to my prior assumptions, are actually more than a cushion for sitting on, or handles to be carried by. They're meant to, get this, support the entire body as you lurch forward in a series of controlled falls. Walking, or even running it's called. Weird, huh? Seems you can do it even without magic, which is news to me. Furthermore, I am under ORDERS or mild suggestion, whatever, to perform this barbaric act called walking all over the desert! Or in our little corner of it anyway. NO I WON'T TELL YOU WHERE IT IS! Not the least which reason for that is because I myself have no clue where it may be. It's uh, by sand? There's some rocks I could point out too. I do know how to teleport too it, and stumble/walk/run in the general area around it until I get lost. And let me tell you, sound carries wonderfully in the desert. Sashara can pick up the sound of a lost Lustig weeping for miles. So can desert scavengers. I'm telling you Thief, there's no battle so desperate as a lost man valiantly fending off curious scavengers with nothing but his will, fists (plus a variety assorted sticks, and my sword, Dragon'stongue) and the powers of a fully prepared Archmage.



That wasn't drawn exactly to scale, but close. I am far more dignified looking than the impressive fellow in the picture. Plus he doesn't look like he has a problem falling rhythmically or "walking" like I do. I bet he works out. That of course, isn't to say that I don't work out either. Try sleeping with a half dragon. That's work! Fun, rewarding work that involves fire more than most people would expect or frankly, believe. It takes work to convince various people to carry you from place to place, thus avoiding the controlled falling thing that we discussed earlier. It takes work to do magic with any degree of skill. But that's really more like play...with books....and more fire. Thief, fire and me have a thing going, if you haven't figured it out. It's sort of like Sashara introduced me to her hot friend, who happens to consume fuel and kill almost anyone she comes into contact with, and the three of us hit it off splendidly.

[elvishnation]

*a small hooded cloaked woman looks about uneasily and pokes through the book cautiously then can't help but write a little in elven*
The best way to learn to fly is throw yourself at the ground and miss. So there for everyone is just trying to learn to fly are they not?

Wizards are just trouble anyways. So much can be done without any magic at all you must know. Or just the blessings of gods and the spirit within us. Have a nice day, month, year, life, whichever is appropriate.

[verycoldbeer]

Lusti.. if this indeed the Lusti I am writing to.. or is this the Lusti journal, I feel the need to send my condolences for the loss of said previous book.. she was a lovely book.. and I rather thought her pages were pretty.

Did I mention that I find the Sash to be delightful and lovely, so if you are being sent into the wilds of the desert.. then there must be a very good reason. Also.. it has been a rather long time since I was able to partake in games of Tallest Elf or Orc Shooting.. are there many Orcs in the desert?

Also If this journal is so very important why do you keep leaving it around places?

and lazy is an art form, so I've been told, and if that is true then your life is its master piece.

Signed
~A~

[probablyamage]

Thief! I'm unequal parts shocked, appalled and flabbergasted that you think wizards are trouble! Don't you remember that time I helped your grandmother with her bad back? Well, that might not have been your grandmother perse, but it was someone's grandmother. Or I assume she was a grandmother at least. Bit young to be a grandmother I'll grant, but kids these days are getting pregnant younger and younger. I figure a woman who looks roughly twenty two has a good six percent chance of being a grandmother. Don't believe me? Well, I cite your lack of understanding about planar mechanics or temporal magic as the reason I can't explain time dilation sufficiently that you would believe me. Completely over your head Thief, you simple simple megalomaniacal criminal genius.

You do have something of a point about what can be done without magic. I can strike bipedal movement off the list of things which can't be accomplished without magic. Presumably I could strike off quadrupedal movement as well, or Xpedal movement for whatever type of critter you might be thinking about, but I can't test it myself without magic. Catch twenty two! I'm afraid those other forms of locomotion will have to remain mere crackpot theories with regards to being able to accomplish them without the benefit of magic. Your blessings of the gods angle is cheating though, since divine magic is accessing the same forces as arcane, only in a different manner. That phrase you used was interesting though..."So much can be done without any magic at all you must know. Or just the blessings of gods and the spirit within us" I wonder what I could do with the spirit in someone else? I have some ideas. Hold on for a moment...

Okay, according to a few people who serve as an external conscience for me it would be highly unethical for me to experiment on other people's spirits. Whether or not they're evil yada yada yada. I really should start including Kethoth as someone to go to for ethical advice. Sure, he's a souless bastard (although not literally. Well, not insofar as I know at least. And definitely not a literal bastard, which he will attest if you feel like hearing about his glorious Thayan lineage for an interminably long time.), but he would give me the answers that I want to hear. As for the options you ended your first narrative by presenting me.....I choose life! I do however reserve the right to have a non-nice day, month or year within the scope of that life. It's still accurate to say someone's had a nice life, but a really terrible day, after all. Contrast is important.

As for the best way to learn how to fly, I dare say you are absolutely incorrect! The best way to learn how to fly is to magically bind a creature that can fly such that there is a connection between your souls, and then sort of....well, it's analogous to looking over someone's shoulder as they take a test and copying his answers (which incidentally does not work for aspiring wizards with clever or sadistic masters! Or so one of my former students would attest, if she were still capable of attesting such in a language understandable outside the animal kingdom without a custom designed spell to correct her speech for the human ear (It mysteriously stops working when she tries to assign blame. Weird, huh?).

[urghargh]

(What looks like a muddy cat-paw print and a whiskery feline nose-kiss smudge lies next to Lustig's writing as if a moggy jumped up, held the page down with a paw and rubbed a face on it, apparently liking the smell of the tome)

[thefeyjester]

*A small Elven figure in black clothing stops to look over the book. He takes out a large black quill and dips it in some ink before putting pen to paper. Instead of writing, however, he draws. He sketches a detailed picture of the male genitalia. He then nods and moves on*

[probablyamage]

Signed A? Short for........A THIEF!!! You did well to change your writing style, handwriting and tone mid response Thief. If I didn't know you were a diabolical mastery of all literature based shenanigans I might have been fooled! Not only is laziness an art form, it's an art form you can show off! There was a laziness exhibit in a Waterdhavian museum once, but I couldn't be bothered to check it out. Just as well though, since it turned out that the artists who were supposed to lounge about on stage slept in...every day the exhibit was supposed to be shown. It was lauded as a success and never attempted again, as I recall.

Thief, you know very well this is Lustig. You have a network of spies spanning who knows how much of the continent. Thank the gods we don't have a supercontinent anymore, or your spy network would go into the Elven territories, and they would be in a tizzy. And we all know what Elves are like in a tizzy. Nobody wants that, except maybe the Drow. But that's only because they have an interest in Elf tizzies that borders on the fetishistic. Plus they're crazy.

I haven't seen any Orcs in the desert, but then, I haven't seen any sentient life besides those who reside in Spire Latherion. The giant fiendish dire flesh eating desert scavengers which I depicted for you earlier don't count as sentient. Their thoughts are only of evil. I don't think I've ever played a game of tallest Elf shooting either. I have shot a bow at a tiny she-Elf a few times though, while she criticized my technique and straighten your back! You need to loose arrows more swiftly! Nag nag nag and suddenly I'm a competent bowman. That incidentally is something that I refuse to do without magic. It takes too much muscle and effort.

The death of my daughter-book....by my own hand no less, was indeed a sad event. I won't go into the details right now, as they are fairly personal and still sting. I won't be creating another sentient item again any time soon. Probably, anyway. Look, I really can't promise anything. It just goes to show the prudence of letting everyone who considers me a friend know that I'll murder them in an instant if I had to choose between them and Sashara.

The reason I'm leaving this journal at the tavern should be obvious Thief. We both know you are an utter master of all things illicit. If I didn't leave you a journal to contact me by, I have no doubt that I would wake up some morning with a note attached to the headrest of my bed by a dagger and the severed head of my favorite horse on my bed. Considering how I hate all horses equally, I assume you would substitute Cald's favorite horse instead, which would just be terrible....bastard horrible creature though it is.

Oh, and I think Sashara's reason has something to do with making me a better person, or at least not cripplingly dependent on magic or some such. Honestly, I think she just likes seeing me sweaty, shirtless and battling ferocious desert beasts. I'm mostly doing it to prove her wrong somehow. I'll think of a way.

[probablyamage]

Aha! And you thought I would underestimate you Thief. I have right here *faint smudge of ink as if he's had some on his thumb while he shook around the journal* evidence that you can in fact polymorph yourself! Into a cat no less! You are indeed equal parts clever and shifty. Cats in Cormyr are afforded special protections after all. Or hmm, maybe your Loviatan priestess did....something to you. Honestly, you never do know what those particular priestesses are going to come up with next. I have some stories about the month I spent with one in my youth, Thief. Such stories I could tell....but that's not why we're here. We're here to deduce your identity,or at least throw wild usually unrelated theories about. The depiction left after your cat based evidence (as a frequent feline I would recognize that anywhere. I do smell lovely, don't I? Well, I smell like a brass dragon according to a blue dragon I met once. She was less appreciative than you no doubt are.) suggests that you are male. You don't have to leave me proof of your virility. You have nothing to prove to me Thief ,we're like brothers, you and I. Thank you for not drawing to scale though. There is only so much paper in this journal, after all.

[thefeyjester]

A small figure carefully approaches the book. He pulls his green cloak around himself carefully. He reaches out a hand adorned with magical rings. He carefully moves his hand about an inch above the book. He then chants softly in Elven. His eyes would be seen to look around the tavern casually before he turns, spinning his cloak enough to cover the book. He then heads for the stairs. The book having vanished. Likely grabbed under the cloak by an unseen hand.

Once upstairs and settled comfortably on the couch within the Suite Room, the figure draws out the book and sets it down gently on the table in front of him. He begins weaving spells of Detect Magic around the book. Closing his eyes gently to let the spell work. Once happy, he stands up and weaves a Mordekainen's Disjunction upon the book. His ring adorned hand slowly moves to the book again, magic glimmering around it and the figure as he casts defensive wards. Nearly all the ones he knows. Once the defensive spells are cast, he carefully presses his open palm to the book. He waits a second or two before he casts another detect magic spell. Once happy, he opens it carefully. He begins reading the entries, his eyes darting rapidly from line to line. He chuckles to himself, reading the entries. He then presses a large golden quill to the page and begins writing in slanted writing which is in a silver ink.*

To my beloved Lustig,

Firstly I wish to apologize for this tardy reply. I have been busy with research and my spell work. You know how that goes. I am still attempting to figure out a way to cast spells with the power of the tenth circle without actually casting the tenth circle. I am good, but, I would rather not be on the receiving end of Mystra's wrath. You will understand this, unless you have been spending far to much time fornicating and not studying enough. This was always your problem.

I would like to thank you for inquiring after my mood. I am, however, not mad. I am currently feeling somewhat nauseous. The foreign food does not agree with me, as you know. I have been unable to collect food more suited to my tongue as of yet. This should show you how much I care about you Lustig, choosing to reply to you before looking out for my self. I believe this is what people would call "Character Growth". Baby steps.

The "giant fiendish dire flesh eating desert scavengers" look interesting. Are they Abberations of some kind? They do not look nor sound like anything I have witnessed before. They seem perfectly designed for eating people. Their cheeks look to be large and puffy, as if they could store flesh within them while still eating more. They are clearly beasts who like to kill and destroy the evidence in one sitting. They do look to be incredibly fearsome. The male, however, does not. He looks like a mageling who has discovered his first Cantrip and has decided he is all powerful. Granted, I am prone to unnecessary shows of power and flashy displays on occasion, but, mine are usually better then his. I would certainly agree that you are more dignified.

As for it being hard work getting everyone to carry you around everywhere... Have you ever considered creating a Golem designed purely for carrying? You could pad the arms and chest areas of the aforementioned Golem so that is is a comfortable and practical solution. Surely this would be what a truly lazy individual would do? Surely working hard to get people to carry you would go against the lazy image you are trying to create? It would be a lot of hard work at first, but, in the long run it would be less work. Especially since you are breeding with a strong half dragon who could do most of the heavy lifting for you. Just a thought, anyway.

I also agree with your statement about these people breeding younger and younger. It is certainly the case. Most days my eyes are assaulted by attempting to partake in those sordid affairs. It is most disgusting.

Anyway, I grow tired of these drawn out battles of the text so I have decided to come clean and tell you who I really am. When you read who I am, you will be surprised. We know each other somewhat well. Anyway, my real identity is...
...
...
...
Well I am not really going to tell you who I am. That would not be extravagant enough to fit my usual profile.

Goodbye for now, Dear Friend.

Yours faithfully, The Thief.

*The figure then takes out ground amber... he rubs it along the line reading "Well I am not really going to tell you who I am. That would not be extravagant enough to fit my usual profile." He then takes a snake scale and holds it in his hand. He mutters softly, casting a spell. The snake scale and amber dust absorb into the page as "Sepia Snake Sigil" is cast. The mage then takes out two snake tongues and two drops of sweet oil. He then begins writing two sentences as he weaves magic.*

PS. Lustig, I believe your eye is in need of a poking. Perhaps you should take care of its needs?

PPS. Lustig, your shoes are becoming stench filled. You should throw one out of the nearest window.

*The mage then heads downstairs, depositing the book where he found it on the way out*

[petrie74]

A small woman happens upon the journal while visiting the tavern. She stares at it suspiciously for a moment, before cautiously tapping it's cover a few times. Once she is certain that it isn't going to explode, and recognizing it for what it is, she picks it up and reads through it a bit. After several long moments she sighs heavily and pulls out writing instruments. Immediately there after, penning an entry into the journal...

Lustig, this is Hannah. I am going to officially say, under no terms, situations, or reasons, should you go to Kethoth for advice. If I should find out you've done so, then I will be forced to once again stop buying you cookies and cakes. I'll also tell Sashara. You don't want that. Really brother, we've been over this. Your loving sister, Hannah

P.S. Cald wishes to teach me to ride a horse. So I'm saying now that I intend to be busy doing something with you that day. Since I've already set it up in advance, I won't have to lie. Honestly Lustig... he wishes to put me atop a -horse-. Helping me in this will likely save me from a horrific equestrian death.

[probablyamage]

Hannah! I would recognize that handwriting anywhere (assuming there was light enough to read, and there were no weird vision based quirks, and so on.). Dearest and most lovely sister who takes after her mother in both beauty and the bestowing of baked goods upon impoverished hungry wizards, I would have thought that by now a married woman would be well versed in ri....ah! Yes, horseriding is a terribly dangerous and unproductive activity. Statistics show that one hundred percent of horseriders die. It is fortunate indeed that we have planned weeks in advance to meet on whatever day that was. I'm a wizard, I schedule things in mysterious ways. Honestly, you should see my calendar. I have to represent it as a three dimensional illusion with scheduling often based on obscure mathematical equations or astronomy. There's a lot of if's as well. If A, B and C have occurred, one week after D begins you perform F. What about E you ask? You really should know by now how wizards are with secrets. Mum's the word. Because it's more succinct than MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS! STAY AWAY FROM MY NOTES! DON'T LOOK AT THAT, YOU'L TRIGGER A WARD THAT'L SEER YOUR EYES OFF!

I think your being wholly, or at least fractionally unfair about the Kethoth thing though, lovely, wonderful and forgiving sister. The fact is that I don't know very many wizards my equal or thereabouts who I can go to for advice of an arcane nature. There's plenty of sorcerers (Or two, whatever) who I could go to advice who are nominally on par, or exceeding me in terms of raw power, but.......sorcerers! Yes, both are quite adept with their spellcraft, and I would trust them to work magic. but Hannah....it's not the same. It's not the same! They think differently. That's part of what attracts me to one of those two....okay, two of those two (I may not be inclined that way but Shamoke is a very attractive man, and damn entertaining to be around. Damn sorcerers! I wish I could just fix my hair nicely and suddenly find myself better at magic.). But I can't get down into the minutia of magic theory with them in the same way that I can with a wizard. I don't think Sashara would mind me going to him for advice anyway. Not so long as she got the chance to veto it. Or maybe stab him for offering advice she didn't like. In fact, if I could get Kethoth agree to the latter, she would be highly in favor of it.

[Vortex]

*A lanky figure in a gem encrusted crimson robe strides past the journal, pauses, then slowly retreats a few steps to inspect the pages. He pulls a black quill from one of the many pockets on the underside of his mantle then whispers a word. Red ink forms on the edge of the quill*

Morality is merely an ephemeral concept to which lesser beings cling tenaciously because they lack the intelligence or capacity for true, beneficial progress while they possess their mortal coil. Once discarded one can benefit the cosmos with many arcane innovations which add to the tapestry of life, in its most encompassing definition.

~Kethoth Uuthrakt

[probablyamage]

*arrow drawn pointing upwards* Solid Advice! Whether that was the actual man himself, or yet again Thief in disguise.

[highknight]

Lustig, you are never, ever, ever teaching my children.

Cald

[probablyamage]

Lustig Jr. (which will be one of your children's names. Look, it's not up to you) will not grow up without knowing his uncle! And to know his uncle is to know his art! Although I'll admit, the boy's got a lot of work to do before he can actually understand it. You know how mothers sometimes read to their children while still in the womb? Can I start teaching advance spell theory to Lustig junior like that? Think of the advantages!

On the subject of morality, or completely abandoning the concept. It is solid advice for a wizard in the abstract sense. Science be it in the mundane form, or mixed with the artistry of magic is best advanced with no limitations. This is of course in a perfect world. In our more realistic world people would complain at the various horrors which would by necessity be inflicted to further a wizards various studies in some of the more ah, esoteric subjects. Incidentally, I am an expert in these subjects myself almost exclusively through the recorded works of others. The other problem besides pitch fork wielding mobs is that of friends and companions. It turns out that most people aren't that fond of those who entirely lack a sense of morality, oddly enough. In my case I value the immediate pleasures that such people provide over the advances I could otherwise accomplish in my art. Still, it's nice to have an opinion available that is contrary to what I typically hear.

[highknight]

*a single word is scrawled, rather neatly*

Never.

[probablyamage]

HOW DARE YOU EXPECT ME TO ANSWER IN THE ORDER THAT YOU RESPOND THIEF! YOU PRESUME TOO MUCH SIR! TOO MUCH! Also, Sepia Snake Sigil?! Silly Thief, dragons eat snakes for breakfast! Or in my non-dragon case I dove valiantly out of the way....for breakfast. Really, it's a shame that no one had put a plate of bacon on the inn floor, which would I admit have been distinctly odd, particularly considering it was evening when I read your recent communique. Not that I have known a dragon in it's natural form to restrict it's meals to certain ordered times of the day, or now that I think about it, to actually eat a snake. In fact, I think skipping meals is a requirement for Brass dragons when they have guests over. There's no sense wasting good talking time after all. When I have a week or two to spare, I'll have to ask my Brazz if he's ever eaten snake. Yes, that's a short visit (at least he's stopped trying to bury me in the sand to keep me there to chat at.....).

The horrible....horrible scavengers are probably not aberrations, they're worse. I am an unmentionable percentage certain that they are nightmare creatures created by Shadow Magic. I certainly hadn't seen them until Shade took up it's hovering and trying-really-hard-to-be-forboding above the Anauroch. You might point out that Spire Latherion hadn't been constructed until then either, but that's besides the point.

AhahahahahahahaHA. HA. HA! I'm wearing slippers! Also, I'm fairly strong willed, which I blame both Sashara, and the various entities that have tried to escape my summoning circles for. Suggestion spells really aren't the best method to persuade me to undertake any given action. You have to be more creative than that Thief. Try a good old fashioned convoluted lie, for bonus you can justify it by citing various not terribly well understood phenomena. Wild magic is always good for that.

Now, lets talk about your greeting and it's inherent inaccuracy. Beloved? Well, certainly I am that, but that's really the problem here. I am Lustig, beloved by all. It is incredibly selfish to precede the beloved part by my, since it implies ownership. Silly Thief, beloved by all, I am a world resource. Or a Cormyran/Anauroch resource anyway. Although not for Shade or the Bedine (Not that I wouldn't help, but they keep trying to kill me when I offer, which is a bit rude.) or really even a Cormyran resource unless it's personally convenient for me..... Hmm, maybe beloved wildcard fits better than beloved resource?

This isn't really a drawn out battle of text, Thief. Oh sure, there's a few nominally hostile spells embedded in your words, but that's more a skirmish than a battle. In the past I knew an eccentric wizard in Waterdeep who enjoyed a good game of chess. We played a protracted game over several months where we each kept a chess board set up, and every other day we would write each other a new letter detailing our latest move. Now the battle part comes in where each letter we were sending was changing into a little paper golem upon reading. The little golems would find their way to the board, remove whatever it was supposed to represent, and itself move to it's new designated spot. This was great fun for a while, until we both started cheating. It was a slow escalation, but by the end we had both decided to play the role of kings ourselves (I had a very stylish black paper crown), and our paper golems were trying to steal or destroy said crowns. He ended up winning with a surprise attack where he beat me over the head (and thus, crown) with a book while I was schmoozing at a party. I tried to argue that kings can't attack kings, but I was overruled by my master who was very tired of the whole ordeal. So....the moral is to protect your crown in battles of text, Thief. It's very important.

Character growth is overrated. The real victory is in forcing other people to grow to accommodate you. Your idea about a carrying golem has some merit, but it's not very feasible. I am not particularly adept at the various magical disciplines required to craft or even heavily modify golems. Besides, having people do it is far more satisfying. After all, people have a choice, a golem does not. It's the same reason I don't have my frequent companion Celeste carry me. She's quite strong, beautiful, and with her soft feathery wings she would be able to carry me in more style and comfort than anyone short of my betrothed. However, she is under an obligation to follow my orders as per our contract. I quite dislike abusing one's obligation to me. Choice must always be present. Even those whom I have maneuvered into a position where they are left with very few still have it. Those successfully manipulated or persuaded possess the ability to choose, while those who are under an obligation to serve me, or carry out certain tasks for me do not possess that choice. With a being in a position of obligation, that obligation goes both ways. The obligation on my part is not to abuse them.

[thefeyjester]

*A small form clothed in black leathers and a cloak walks into the inn. He looks down at the book with a grin behind his face mask. He scoops the book up into his hand and walks upstairs, setting into a single room. He flops down onto the bed and takes out his quill. He sketches an Apple at the top of the page before writing*

Change and excitement are the spice of life. Live on the edge, unbound by the conventions of society in a spirit of constant self-reinvention. Puncture the self-righteousness, sanctimony, and pretension that pervades orderly society with mischievous pranks that both amuse and enlighten.

Upon Cormyr, shall a plague of pranks be played.
Upon Elves, mischief will be Made.
Upon Humans, plots will be laid.
Upon Dwarves, tricks will be had.
Upon Hin, cookies will be raid(ed).
The time of the Prank is upon us.

[TrueBlueOriginal]

*writes in a dark red ink, almost brown*

Dear Lusty Lizard!

I think there's something wrong with you, maybe. I didn't take this book but found it here and I read some of it and I'm leaving it here, OK? I'm not a thief, I'm just a curious passer-by, and taking a look at a stray book isn't a crime. If I could return the book to you I would. However, I'm not returning it to the Anauroch because that's too dangerous. Anyway, you keep replying to people who write in it so you must be getting it on occasion, right? So I'm going to leave it here and assure myself that you'll get it.

I just want to say hi and see what you're up to. And I have to admit I didn't read everything written in the book because it's kind of long and I don't care that much. I did read enough to get the impression you're lonely though. You need to spend more time getting "a workout" with your betrothed or something, because you're sounding a little like you don't have enough contact with sentient creatures. I didn't read all the morality stuff but I just want to say you better behave.

And joking about pain worshipers isn't acceptable. That's not funny. They're sick people that have serious issues and need to be supervised so they don't hurt themselves or others.

With that drawing up there of a man's parts, I was tempted to draw a woman's flower in bloom as a complement, but I thought that might be crude. So if you want such an illustration, I'll do one for you, but I just felt it wouldn't be right without your informed consent.

Also, why don't you name your own kid Lustig Junior? Let other people name their kids stuff like Maddie and Sybil and Jeremiah.

If I ever have a son I think I might like to name him Thomas, but I'd have to think about it some more.

Anyway, I'm leaving this book where I found it.

Tell Sashara to show more skin because she looks good when she does. Tell her I said hi! Do it! Then lick her, but not against the scales, you have to lick with the scales or you scrape your tongue. OK, so tell her hi for me, then do it, then lick her! You can combine any of those together if you like.

Come visit me in Suzail sometimes. If you're in cat form, I might have some tuna just for you. I'll be back up that way soon, I'm just stopping by Greatgaunt for a couple days.

Miss you, you pantsless weirdo!

Temptress Kirasara Sandira Bastet Pashar of Sharess

[verycoldbeer]

*Arlyn moves sneaking the book into a room within the Griffon tucking it under a pillow for someone else to find later*

Dearest Loosti,

After reading this journal I've come to three conclusions.

1) That you should never be allowed to name a child.

2) This whole Wizard thing has really gone to your head and made you soft in the brain pan.

3) Which this is a universal truth, You love to Kiss Elves.

~signed~
Thief

[erratic1]

*A somewhat tired and irritable seeming Nicky walks into the Griffon. After speaking with the innkeep for a few moments, he turns with key in hand, hoping for a good evening's rest before he continues his patrol along the roads. He pauses a moment, spying the book just laying on a table. He peers at it, flicking through the pages trying to discern who it belongs to. He stops and frowns, then sighs deeply. He picks out a quill and inkpot from his backpack- always on hand in case he needs to scribe something or send a missive off to his superiors. He writes down, with a cursive and somewhat forced hand, as if the journal has irritated him all the more:*

Lustig, this is Nicky. For goodness sake man, learn to look after your posessions better. Who knows what'd happen if you left your spellbook lying about like this. The wards no doubt you have placed on such could injure countless people. As it is I've seen your ramblings and quite honestly so has half of Cormyr. I'm amazed the War Wizards haven't dragged you off to the loony bin already for being unstable.

As a friend I'm asking you to be more careful with your own personal posessions, and I'm also asking you to come see me in Suzail when you are able to talk. To reassure me that you're not about to leave anything dangerous lying about like your journal here. Also, it seems that this isn't your old one either, so either you've lost that one too- *the text trails off here, as if Nicky has had to think, or just paused a moment to facepalm* Nevermind, just come see me as soon as you are able so we can work out how to stop this case of journalitis you seem to have come up with.


Regards,

Nicky Weaver.


Nicky packs up his things and leaves the journal where he found it. Muttering all the way to his room. Eyeball peeks up a tenticled eye from his pack and chuckles at Nicky's demeanor. "Maybe someone should jus' bonk 'im on the 'ead boss. Or maybe tell that winged beauty of 'is that he's a few sandwhiches short of a picnic. That might work better!"

"I think maybe Eyeball, we should stay out of it unless someone gets hurt. Problem is with Lustig, you never know if that's going to be the case or not."

"Aye boss, well I'll keep an eye open then."


"That's getting old Eyeball."

"I can't 'elp it!"

The two continued to talk and bicker softly all evening, likely contributing to Nicky's foul mood.

[probablyamage]

Thief, your criticism of my child naming is obviously just thinly disguised envy. It's okay, Theif. I give you permission to name your child Lustig as well. Although, chances are that your surname doesn't begin with an L, and thus the poor child will have a name far less alliterative than mine. Well, that's assuming we have one before Cald and Hannah. There can be only one Lustig Jr. So.....we'll have to fight for it eventually. Or is it a race?

The closest I have come to kissing an Elf is a motherly kiss on my forehead. Shortly after I began my apprenticeship at six years of age, my master saw to it that I spent some time around different races. Elves are seeped in magic, so I spent a great deal of time among some Elves that he knew well. As I aged it was a weird transitioning from acting the same age as the younger Elves to identifying more with their parents than the kids themselves. Weird enough that I never tried kissing any after I developed an interest in that sort of thing....certainly not the basically adult looking "kids" and not the parents. Hold on for a bit....

Turns out that this Elf kissing theory is impossible to test. I asked Sashara if I could Elf-polymorph her for a makeout session.....turns out that it was neither suggested tactfully, nor the right thing to ask her! She got that cutely scary look in her eye (caution: amounts of cute and scary observed are highly subjective). You know, the one that triggers a fight or flight response even in me? Well, I considered tackling her right then and there, but you will be proud of me Thief, I resisted. Mostly I'll admit, because she has a history of being utterly immovable when she doesn't want to budge. It's like running into a stone wall. No! A gods damned wall of force! Albeit a beautiful wall of force with breasts. It's really a moot point anyway. Half dragons are obviously the best kissers. Elf kisses probably don't even involve flame at all do they?! One hundred percent of draconic beings that I have kissed or been kissed by so far have. Ergo, they are superior.

[probablyamage]

Thief-pretending-to-be-Nicky.......that's a GREAT idea! Now, I couldn't leave my actual spellbook out as it's far too subtle when you first have a look at it, and swiftly moves to an unnecessarily deadly form of overkill, but I could leave out the smaller traveling version, or hey, just a warded book of some kind. We could think of it like a stupidity trap! The first idiot who tries to read what appears to be an Archmages spellbook would be somewhat forgivable, but the fool who plucks it out of his petrified fingers and tries reading it himself isn't quite as much. It would be a public service, culling Cormyr's gene pool of stupidity! I could sell the petrified stupids as statues. We could go into this fifty fifty Thief, we'll make a fortune! You keep the statues from piling up (cart away all but the current book holder), and I'll teleport them away for sale elsewhere.

Of course the War Wizards haven't nabbed me. Besides the fact that I'm at least moderately dangerous myself, Sashara has this thing about me being imprisoned. It's just.....it's not a good idea. I am very careful to break or disregard the law only up until the edge of where imprisoning or punishing me is a worthwhile idea for the Cormyran authorities. I even spent some time making a cost-benefit analysis from their point of view so I would know precisely how troublesome I could be! My original Journal wasn't lost either. I killed her after she tried to murder my betrothed with the intent of taking her place. That is the very short version, anyway.

[probablyamage]

Thief Thief Thief old friend, we both know what you are. There is no denying your tendencies. Loviatans, like everyone else vary person by person. You can't judge a book by that sharp stab of pain that shoots along your arm when you touch the cover. Okay, as a general rule it's best to leave those alone, but for this metaphor we're going with it. Loviatans as a rule are not gentle, but many priestesses genuinely want what is best for the populace. The priestess who spent a month or so torturing me in my youth was one. The lessons she taught were most certainly not gentle, but they have saved my life innumerable times in the years since. Perhaps more importantly, they altered my perception of the world in such a way that I was far less likely to get myself stupidly killed the moment I became independent.

I try my best not to suggest clothing to Sashara. It's eerily reminiscent of my early apprenticeship when I knew nothing, but "helpfully" tried to make suggestions to my master. I used to hire people to dress me solely because I have no taste in clothing. Now it's one aspect of life which I rely wholly upon Sashara for. Besides, the perception of attractiveness is just a vast mind game played with cloth, and if there's one thing I know about mind games it's that you can't put everything out in the open.

I told her you said "hi" Thief, but she just gave me a vaguely baffled look and shrugged. Licking took place as requested, but I'm not going into detail here. I'm not lonely, Thief, I'm....well, it's hard to describe. Although I am very much a social animal, I am perfectly content alone with Sashara (unless she's meditating for a week or something). It's been months since I have cast the most minor of magic, however. While I am engaged in certain magical studies, I am limited by not having access to my full magical potential, which very much limits the research that I can conduct. It is an eery feeling, almost as if I were missing, or deliberately not utilizing a limb. Ultimately I suspect this experiment of hers (Which was a damn clever way to phrase her no-magic suggestion) will be to my benefit. But it's hard, Thief.

[EDM Neo]

Dearest Lustig,

It's good to see you're doing so well! It's about time you've got a new journal, to be perfectly honest your mourning the other one was starting to get a little creepy, accidental quasi-sentience and general grudgingly admitted genius of the concept or not. I mean, compared with all the other disturbing/amusing eccentricities about you it's relatively easy to look past, but it was a book, and not even a very good one. It's not like you named it or anything. Uh, did you? I guess you might have, but that'd be kind of weird, too.

I have re-learned a few painful lessons over the past months that as your good friend and colleague I thought I should share with you, to spare your needing to risk stumbling upon them yourself in a fashion more excruciating than bemusing. Lesson the first, traveling long distances without teleportation is just as excruciatingly slow as I remembered it being, back when I was laughing about how wondrous it is to go anywhere I wanted in the blink of an eye and to be free from such arduous travel times.

On which note, why the heck is it so hard to get in contact with an archmage who's been spending all his time at an undisclosed locale within the greatest and vastest desert on the continent while one is themselves dismally lacking in utility magic much less the ability to pierce said archmage's wards with requests for favors? You need to visit more often so I can nag you to do wizardly things on my behalf. I'll pay you with the implied but not actually sworn to promise of unspecified and open ended future favors that I don't actually intend to fulfill.

Lesson the second! It's a royal pain the bum to track down individuals in cities the size of Waterdeep without scrying magic. Frederick says bards should be able to learn it, and every reputable academic source on the matter seems to agree, but I can't for the life of me get the spells to reliably work. And the worst part is I still don't even know why, song magic is just weird. Nice in its own ways, but frustrating and weird and notably less effective for a full seventy nine percent of the important things none the less (plus or minus a three percent margin of error).

On the note of Waterdeep, lesson the third. The paladins they grow here don't really stack up. They were polite and chivalrous and so on, but helpful? Nope. You'd almost think that finding a single mage who introduced himself by an obvious pseudonym in a city of a million was challenging, or something. When you at long last return to your homeland bearing the blade of your fathers to rule with an aluminum fist as the new High Lord Emperor Jester King of Waterdeep I expect you to fix this. The thousand years of absurdity the Old One prophesied can wait.

Lesson the fourth, there are a lot of dark haired dual-wielding elves in the world. I need to learn to stop getting my hopes up.

And finally, lesson the fifth, nice as the marketplace is Cowled Wizards still make Amn a pretty unpleasant place. How was I supposed to know they'd still have alarm spells set up on old forgotten towers long dead cowled inquisitors once made residence in? This brings me back to the aforementioned frustration with more complex (read: useful) bardic divinations, but I don't want to get recursive. Frederick's starting to give me that look that says he thinks I'm being silly, so I should be wrapping up.

How's Sashara, "hot, draconic, and of relatively few words" aside? You still need to have me over for tea or something sometime, or else I might need to follow through on my threats to find your home and break into it in the night just to prove I can. I bet I could manage, wards or no wards! Heck, I probably helped teach you half of them. I might get cut in two by an angry half dragon before she realized it was me, but it would be worth it just so I could laugh at your feeble and half baked defenses.

And with that, I should probably stop writing. Shoot a sending with cryptic instructions or a dire warning or something my way sometime! Or else I'll probably bump into you in Greatgaunt or Suzail sooner or later now that we're back in Cormyr.

I still think you look good in pants,
Rosaline Benick, pretending to be a thief who's pretending to be Rosaline

P. S.

Don't tell anyone, but I left a SECRET MESSAGE hidden in the above text. I'm sure with your obvious genius it should be easy to find.

[probablyamage]

As someone who can change his physical form into whatever his whims dictate, and quite literally alter the fabric of reality with his magic, I have spent more time than most would expect considering such philosophical matters as what gives worth to man. The conclusion I long ago reached was that the most important aspects of anyone or any thing regardless of form, were sentience and sapience. Without those, a human is no more than a lump of meat and bone, and a book is no more than it's assembled parts. Anything that is capable of independent rational thought deserves to be treated with the same respect that you would accord any human or member of your own race. Generally speaking, I wouldn't fault someone like Kethoth for treating a sentient magical item as a slave, considering he does the same with humans. I would however consider a "good" person treating a truly sentient item as no more than a simple tool as an utter hypocrite.

I have spent quite a bit of time (typically on the other side of summoning circles) dealing with a very vast variety of different looking beings, most of whom think in ways that are alien to me. In fact, my own thoughts are alien enough to others that simply trying to read my thoughts will drive another to pain or unconsciousness. It's far easier for me to identify with a book that thinks along the lines of a normal human than say, a being that is completely unable to fathom the concept of lies, or one who is unable to stray in any way from it's moral code. I had named Journal.....Journal (somewhat unoriginally, but rather similar to how I address you, Thief (Note that your name is used as a proper noun)). Journal was sentient and created by me, as such I had a responsibility to her. It's worth noting that if she had threatened anyone at all other than Sashara, I would have allowed her to ravage the person's mind instead of killing her. I would have tried to stop her, of course, but don't think for a moment that she was less important to me than she was simply because I coldly killed her. I would have done that to anyone in that situation. Thief, I am not amoral, nor do I shun the idea of responsibility......I just interpret both differently than others. This is one of the reasons that I keep a few sources as an external conscience. Sashara primarily, followed by Hannah, Cald, and others. I don't expect anyone to understand or identify with what I have written here, although I think some other wizards, Kethoth in particular, might understand my reasoning as logically consistent with how I live and act.

My father was a scribe, he wielded a quill, not a sword. I watched him cut himself with a butter knife once. I was equal parts amazed and confused. However! It is fortunate that in the right hands, the quill is mightier than the sword! He had a fancy, sharp silver quill that he never once pricked himself with. I bet that could be pretty menacing in the right (my) hands. The idea of conquering Waterdeep lost some appeal once Khelben Blackstaff died. Fighting a rooftop to rooftop wizard battle in the City of Splendors with a Chosen would have almost been worth the endless tedium of administering a conquered city the size of Waterdeep. Absurdity would of course be enforced (On pain of a pie to the face! To be later eaten. Off the face. It's terrible to waste food after all.), but one must keep the ships running on time. What about Laurel you might ask? After spending so much time with Sashara, I have learned to fear the woman behind the man more than the man himself (Although in my case it could be argued that I am the man behind the woman.). Besides, I wouldn't subject the pretty object of my youth's admiration to a humiliating defeat or the inevitable vicious revenge from Sashara if Laurel managed to overcome me (The revenge would involve swords and fire I'm sure, not drinks and laughter. Probably, anyway.).

The easiest way for the wealthy to track down someone in Waterdeep is to hire an information dealer, or someone well connected within the city to do so for them. I have never known a poor thief, let alone a poor Thief, so you should have taken that rout. I'll admit that poor thieves certainly exist, but my schmoozing with the larceny inclined has obviously included only the more successful at their illicit craft. Dark haired duel weilding Elves are a fad. The problem is that Elven fads run for many human generations before they fade out. Oh, and it would be churlish of me to point out the inherent superiority of wizardry to every other method of arcane or divine spellcasting.

You uh, you didn't bring my name up in Waterdeep did you? Last I checked, my master, parents, and all Waterdhavian acquaintances were under the impression that I've been dead for some time. Although you probably could have caged a teleport spell from my master if you tracked him down and regaled him with stories about his errant apprentice. He was always stingy with his magic, although he would grudgingly teleport himself when he had to travel further than a hundred miles. It was about the extent of his ability, which is quite respectable.

Half baked defenses?! You clearly have never experienced the Anauroch sun Thief. Nothing is merely half baked out here. I sincerely doubt that anyone will set foot in Spire Latherion except Sashara, myself, and any children that we might have. There is a small chance that I would allow nephews or nieces whom I have apprenticed to stay there, but it would bear consideration. Sashara is lovely, happy and smug. I think the last is due to my recent lack of magical activity. I swear, you wouldn't think that someone who fell for a wizard known for his prolific spellcasting would find his lack there of such an indulgent treat. Stupid Bedine values. Stupid adaptability slowly transforming me into someone who corresponds to many of said values. Of course, the upside of this is that it's going to be hilarious watching her reconcile her independence with the traditional role of married Bedine women once we're wed.

Apples are delicious? That's hardly qualifies as a secret message Thief.

[highknight]

Lustig,

If you are going to discuss widows of dead Chosen, at least have the common decency to spell their names correctly.

It is Laeral.

And no, again, to the niece/nephew apprentice bit.

-Cald

[probablyamage]

The misspelling was less the result of a mistake and more the result of drunken logic at work. You see, while I am inebriated I have a tendency to mumble along with what I write. I hardly think Laerel (who, being Chosen herself is a powerful enough being to hear when her name is spoken, and the next sentence or so.) wanted to hear some drunken wizard discuss her husband's death or his boyhood crush on her. So, I intentionally misspelled it. Well, I intentionally misspelled and slurred the incorrect name to the point where there was no real danger of it being pronounced properly. I'm polite like that.

Ah, and about the nephew thing? If/when I do apprentice one of yours, it will be when they're old enough to make the decision themselves, and knowledgeable enough in the Art to truly make use of my teaching.

[probablyamage]

Thief, I have lately come to the conclusion that I am being royally screwed by Sashara. Well yes, in the literal sense to be sure (I clearly have high standards for royalty and the kinkiness thereof), but that isn't really how I had meant it. You see Thief, I have seen comparatively few advantages that I can ruthlessly use against/for her when considered against those she is using against/for me in this whole "Bedine" thing. She's used it to turn me into a well rounded individual, but I've barely been able to use this scarcely understood set of rules to manipulate her how I wish. Sure, I have other methods that I can and do utilize, but I feel like I am wasting a valuable resource here. Clearly, the problem is that she is the one possessed of the knowledge, and lets me only know what I can coax out of her, or what is personally convenient to her. The solution of course, is obvious. Kidnapping.

I must track down a Bedine....man or woman matters little, and question them ruthlessly. I think I'll use the brass dragon method of burying them to the shoulders in the ground so that we can have a nice uninterrupted chat. This would normally annoy my cute and cuddle little dwagoness, but I have a solution! The Zhentarum keep plenty of Bedine slaves. I can just borrow one of theirs then conveniently forget to return her. Yep, I decided on a her. They're better to look at while the chat occurs (And I seem to have a fondness for that body type, or maybe it's the wings). You know what, maybe I'll just bury her up to the hips. More comfortable all around that way. Perhaps I won't even bury her at all. I know it sounds crazy, but I am nothing if not willing to attempt zany ideas.

But now to more immediate and pressing concerns. Thief, I need to track down vast amounts of....what the hells go into an apple pie? I'm supposed to bake, or arrange to have baked, or threaten-someone-with-magical-doom into baking a quite literal dragon sized apple pie. Don't ask for details Thief. It was a bet. I lost, and now I don't think I'll ever achieve my dream of swimming in a pool of ale, or being invited to a dragon orgy. No, I don't actually want to attend such a thing, I just want to be able to truthfully claim that I have been invited to such. No no no Thief. No. You think too much. If I put as much thought into things as you did, I probably wouldn't even make insane wagers in the first place. And then where would we be, hmm? A place that is more boring than the location that you and I respectively occupy at this moment, that's where. You worry me though, Thief. It's rare that you regale me with fireside stories of derring-do, or tales of how you thwarted this or that hero out to stop your villainous schemes. Maybe you're such a skilled thief, because you don't actually brag about your thieving, except of course by nature of your name, Thief. Anyway, divination has revealed to me the location of a man who owns an orchard. I am, over the course of a single night, going to steal enough apples for said ridiculous pie, AND cure his daughter of her deathly illness! Well, I'm going to use magic for the former, and pour a vial of cure-what-ails-ya down the daughter's throat for the latter. But stealthily, and with great showmanship. I'm aware of the contradiction. Don't correct me.








I wrote "well rounded individual" in red ink to try to convey my horror at the statement. I trust it worked flawlessly

[probablyamage]

As it turns out, I do not speak Midani. One would think an Archwizard would consider this before undertaking such a scheme. Turns out, that's also false. I had to spend ten excruciating minutes reading her thoughts while I "communicated" if you can call it that, through gestures and essentially nonsensical sounds before I could get her thinking about her tribe. End result, one rescued slave returned home, two dead, dessicated and devoured Zhents, one frustrated Archwizard, one sexy half dragon maintaining the upper hand.