AoA.Lore Journal Entries of Farathruun
9 Elesias, 1234
“Where once I dreamed of my future, golden days spent as a professor of this blossoming community which has so openly accepted me as one of their own, I now see the fate which I always hoped to avoid repeating on each eve. Each night, under the shadows of the Temple's spires, I drag myself to the forges of my father and watch as he works. We do not speak, but somehow share an understanding of purpose which is still unknown to me. Yet how am I to help, these hands which have naught held a hammer nor struck a shape from the nothingness of raw potential?” 28 Eleint, 1234
“My dreams continue to grow increasingly repetitive and tangible. Each night, I join my father in his forge. Though I know not his skill and he equally disapproves of my study, we work side by side as sheet of pure, radiant platinum is wrought into a shield. As dawn breaks each morn, the final hammer strike perfects the shape, sparks as bright as the rising sun drifting through the musty workspace. We stand side by side, uncertain of the meaning nor what should happen next. Why I am a part of this process? What force drags me to the forge through my dreams when I am all but useless to father's masterful craft?” 16 Marpenoth, 1234
“Why do these dreams continue to cling to me as if they were my own shadow? Every night, the same forge, the same shield. These visions are becoming maddening to the point of distracting from my own work at hand. Each night, without fail, once the shield is complete, a thunderous roar overhead speaks in an ancient tongue I cannot comprehend. Even so, each night I feel compelled to call out. To repeat these mysterious words back. What power could be in these strange phrases which linger in my throat even as I wake and go through my studies?” 5 Hammer, 1235
“After months of hesitation and stubbornness, I visited the forge. Once evening set in and the final prayer service crowds left the streets quiet and lonely, I sheepishly approached my childhood home and found the forge's fires lit even this late at night. Equal measure of surprise and inevitably overtook me observing my father silently working on the very shield I have forged alongside him night after night after night. We did not speak, but somehow shared an understanding of purpose which is only now becoming clear to me. Tomorrow, when he finishes the shield, I believe I must finally speak the words I have heard in my mind for the last months, if nothing else but to finally discover the meaning of these incessant visions.” 6 Hammer, 1235
“An enchantment. Of course. An ancient, powerful, prophesied enchantment. Perhaps in the tongue of dragon gods long before the world existed, before the children of Xymor walked Toril. Certainly eons before the laying of Avraathe's foundation. With these words spoken, the platinum shield transformed into a now unbreakable, immovable object of Bahamut’s power and force of will. As the final hammer struck, the tool ricocheted on the impact, lifting father off the ground with it and sending him tumbling. Lightning crackled from the sky above, through the forge’s ventilation, and struck the shield, scorching the symbol of Bahamut into the center of what is admittedly the most finely crafted work my father’s proud hands have ever wrought.” 17 Hammer, 1235
“We are on speaking terms again. Divine intervention has such an effect, I presume. It seems I was not the only one receiving dreams, but we are similar in our damnable pride and stubbornness if nothing else. Though the Augurium is my home now, it has been a comfort to have someone beyond the school to speak to and confide in. And with the growing conflicts inevitably taking Parathorn beyond the wall in the near future, father will need someone looking after him more closely now as well.” 1 Alturiak, 1235 DR
“We bid farewell to Parathorn on the morrow. The dreaded Black Horde moves south and the Platinum Order intends to cut them off before any forces move in to surround the valley. Only today did father reveal the shield he, rather, we, forged for Parathorn. I did not reveal the enchantments to him nor the untapped potential I believe it possesses. Safer he rely on himself rather than the magic of a shield. Better to discover its true nature when his own strength might otherwise fail him. 2 Alturiak, 1235 DR
“It was a quiet and solemn farewell. What does one say to an estranged brother who hardly recognizes you behind the sunken eyes of too much study and too little sunlight? What does one do when faced with the possible death of someone you love but cannot understand? We embraced awkwardly and for a moment I felt the unwavering, naive admiration which swelled within me as a child looking up to my older brother. I hope in some small way in that moment he sensed it too. Maybe it will grant some additional sense of resolve or courage within him in the dark days ahead.” 27 Alturiak, 1235 DR
“Parathorn’s remembrance will take place this afternoon. Legends of his honorable death have resounded like trumpets throughout the city. But even the pride in his selfless, sacrificial victory rings hollow as the funeral bells toll. To add insult to devastating injury, the shield which has reunited our family remains lost to the Black Horde. If this were to be the end for my brother, why did those damned dreams lead us here? Why make the shield at all if it could not protect Parathorn? Perhaps my younger self was correct in his cynical rejection of the gods’ intent for our lives. Either way, it will not bring the shield, nor my brother back. But I will be strong for father and wrestle with these beliefs in solitude once more. His faith and his family are the only support he has these days and I cannot leave him now.” 29 Alturiak, 1235 DR
“Platinum Dragon Guide You, Parathorn, wherever that may lead.”
“Where once I dreamed of my future, golden days spent as a professor of this blossoming community which has so openly accepted me as one of their own, I now see the fate which I always hoped to avoid repeating on each eve. Each night, under the shadows of the Temple's spires, I drag myself to the forges of my father and watch as he works. We do not speak, but somehow share an understanding of purpose which is still unknown to me. Yet how am I to help, these hands which have naught held a hammer nor struck a shape from the nothingness of raw potential?” 28 Eleint, 1234
“My dreams continue to grow increasingly repetitive and tangible. Each night, I join my father in his forge. Though I know not his skill and he equally disapproves of my study, we work side by side as sheet of pure, radiant platinum is wrought into a shield. As dawn breaks each morn, the final hammer strike perfects the shape, sparks as bright as the rising sun drifting through the musty workspace. We stand side by side, uncertain of the meaning nor what should happen next. Why I am a part of this process? What force drags me to the forge through my dreams when I am all but useless to father's masterful craft?” 16 Marpenoth, 1234
“Why do these dreams continue to cling to me as if they were my own shadow? Every night, the same forge, the same shield. These visions are becoming maddening to the point of distracting from my own work at hand. Each night, without fail, once the shield is complete, a thunderous roar overhead speaks in an ancient tongue I cannot comprehend. Even so, each night I feel compelled to call out. To repeat these mysterious words back. What power could be in these strange phrases which linger in my throat even as I wake and go through my studies?” 5 Hammer, 1235
“After months of hesitation and stubbornness, I visited the forge. Once evening set in and the final prayer service crowds left the streets quiet and lonely, I sheepishly approached my childhood home and found the forge's fires lit even this late at night. Equal measure of surprise and inevitably overtook me observing my father silently working on the very shield I have forged alongside him night after night after night. We did not speak, but somehow shared an understanding of purpose which is only now becoming clear to me. Tomorrow, when he finishes the shield, I believe I must finally speak the words I have heard in my mind for the last months, if nothing else but to finally discover the meaning of these incessant visions.” 6 Hammer, 1235
“An enchantment. Of course. An ancient, powerful, prophesied enchantment. Perhaps in the tongue of dragon gods long before the world existed, before the children of Xymor walked Toril. Certainly eons before the laying of Avraathe's foundation. With these words spoken, the platinum shield transformed into a now unbreakable, immovable object of Bahamut’s power and force of will. As the final hammer struck, the tool ricocheted on the impact, lifting father off the ground with it and sending him tumbling. Lightning crackled from the sky above, through the forge’s ventilation, and struck the shield, scorching the symbol of Bahamut into the center of what is admittedly the most finely crafted work my father’s proud hands have ever wrought.” 17 Hammer, 1235
“We are on speaking terms again. Divine intervention has such an effect, I presume. It seems I was not the only one receiving dreams, but we are similar in our damnable pride and stubbornness if nothing else. Though the Augurium is my home now, it has been a comfort to have someone beyond the school to speak to and confide in. And with the growing conflicts inevitably taking Parathorn beyond the wall in the near future, father will need someone looking after him more closely now as well.” 1 Alturiak, 1235 DR
“We bid farewell to Parathorn on the morrow. The dreaded Black Horde moves south and the Platinum Order intends to cut them off before any forces move in to surround the valley. Only today did father reveal the shield he, rather, we, forged for Parathorn. I did not reveal the enchantments to him nor the untapped potential I believe it possesses. Safer he rely on himself rather than the magic of a shield. Better to discover its true nature when his own strength might otherwise fail him. 2 Alturiak, 1235 DR
“It was a quiet and solemn farewell. What does one say to an estranged brother who hardly recognizes you behind the sunken eyes of too much study and too little sunlight? What does one do when faced with the possible death of someone you love but cannot understand? We embraced awkwardly and for a moment I felt the unwavering, naive admiration which swelled within me as a child looking up to my older brother. I hope in some small way in that moment he sensed it too. Maybe it will grant some additional sense of resolve or courage within him in the dark days ahead.” 27 Alturiak, 1235 DR
“Parathorn’s remembrance will take place this afternoon. Legends of his honorable death have resounded like trumpets throughout the city. But even the pride in his selfless, sacrificial victory rings hollow as the funeral bells toll. To add insult to devastating injury, the shield which has reunited our family remains lost to the Black Horde. If this were to be the end for my brother, why did those damned dreams lead us here? Why make the shield at all if it could not protect Parathorn? Perhaps my younger self was correct in his cynical rejection of the gods’ intent for our lives. Either way, it will not bring the shield, nor my brother back. But I will be strong for father and wrestle with these beliefs in solitude once more. His faith and his family are the only support he has these days and I cannot leave him now.” 29 Alturiak, 1235 DR
“Platinum Dragon Guide You, Parathorn, wherever that may lead.”
Comments