Academic by Kalshana | World Anvil

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11th Eyre, 998YK

Academic

by Kalshana

Given that this is my second entry today, you can tell that a lot has happened since the last entry. Indeed, I was only writing during a rest before heading into Kyhber's Gate. I am now in the Guild Hall, in a fairly comfortable room. I think out of all the strange things that I have encountered in this continent, comfortable beds are my favourite. It isn't often I have the pleasure since I'm either in my tent at New Cyre or in the bedroll on the road. However, the beds are so much more comfortable than the ones at the monastry. That is not to say that I did not enjoy my life at the monastry or that I am taken in by the luxuries of the world outside of it. I do notice things and I enjoy them - that cannot be a bad thing. Unsure how well they work for my posture, however. I spend plenty of days sleeping on the floor which should balance things out as far as that is concerned.
 
I am sorry to say that our efforts to track down the highwayman in Khyber's Gate was a failure. It is definitely going to be significantly more tricky than I had originally thought. The area is a sprawling mass of dark tunnels, darker than Highgate or the Cogs. We saw a few other people down there but nothing that was specifically lizardfolk and we have nothing to use to track him. I am not sure how Dax would track him but she is an experienced hunter so I would imagine it would be a skill entwined with that. Even then, this pre-supposes he is still in Khyber's Gate. He could have moved anywhere in this city or even just left it entirely. The city is so busy and the guards seem to have a limited scope of the place. I know we will be trying again tomorrow to track him down so it could be a very familiar walk after a while, depending on how long we stay down there. Perhaps I would even get used to it, that darkness only ameliorated by my light spell. The thought of getting used to it down there is rather unpleasant. I do not wish to think about this further.
 
After looking through the tunnels, we headed back up to Clifftop. The city is still dizzying in its scope - so big and so easy to get lost within! Especially when less than scrupulous individuals wish to charge us to use lifts and the like. I do not believe that the individual who wanted money from us is employed by the city council however I may be mistaken. It must cost to keep things maintained given the structure of the towers and the bridges. Still, there are many forges and skilled workers that materials and labour are relatively easy to pick up and I wouldn't imagine that they would scrimp on such a thing...at least in the higher quarters. They don't seem to care as much for places down below which seems unfair. The people down there work just as hard as anyone up here - perhaps harder. Yet they still live in tents and in tunnels and dilapidated homes with no excuse of lack of funds or resources that New Cyre has. Sharn is a hive of activity and wealth that seems to be absorbed at the top with scraps falling below. It is a problem, certainly, but one I am unsure how to strictly fix. I am not sure who runs this place - is the King in Wroat responsible or are the people here responsible? Regardless, there is no excuse for it. Vathirond is poor. New Cyre is poor. That is what they are but the people are at least sharing what they have, working together to survive. Sharn does not have this excuse.
 
Speaking of which, we managed to unload that idol once we arrived back here at the guild hall. Provost Somethingorother is a nobleman who is studying the planes and apparently rthis idol is some way of studying the plane of Fernia which by all accounts is a plane of fire. It certainly explains those ghastly magmins. I am unsure why in the name of all that is Light and Bright why he wishes to study a plane of fire. It is disquieting, especially if broken, the idol could cause chaos to be unleashed which would not be the best move. I will have to trust that he knows what he is doing - he is some sort of academic, they have to know what they are doing. How else would he know what to order? It wouldn't make sense otherwise.
 
Lhara pays us 100 gold pieces for picking it up. It's a troubling amount of money that is increasing. I know I should be saving this to get back to New Cyre or perhaps to buy some items but it makes me uncomfortable with all this gold just lingering in my pockets. It doesn't seem like the right thing to have. Perhaps this whole venture is incorrect. The soft bed, the gold, the confrontations. Is this what I had imagined when I convinced my companions to travel all the way over here? Absolutely not. I know there are kalashtar in the city and I will need to seek them out when there are less pressing matters like investigating a murder or capturing a murderer to ask how they cope with it. I am...increasingly uncertain if this the right thing to do. Yes, doing this work for the Prince is a good thing as there are people depending on us in New Cyre. People I have helped get through bouts of pain and sickness. This is to help Terfel too - his friend was killed, should we not investigate why and what is going on? And since there are no activities to do for the Prince here, doing odd jobs for an upstanding guild for the benefit for the people of Sharn whilst raising funds to get home to New Cyre can only be good, yes?
 
Home. It is strange to think that New Cyre is my home, even if it is a small tent in a field. Will I ever go back to the monastry? I am not sure - there is much evil and darkness in the world I cannot turn my head from but being so far from others...I think it would have been easier if they were all here. We could have had services, spoke more of the stories, the memories in our heads. I have not forgotton them but I feel out of sync, some how...
 
Tomorrow we are heading back down to look for this lizardfolk but I am also going to try and communicate with the changeling in a coma. The hospital is on route and it seems to be our only lead at the moment. I should get some rest, it will be another long day.

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