During the blockade and temporay occupation of Dagger Falls, a group of adventures known as Haven's Heroes came upon an old journal within the town graveyard. The book was found in a discarded haversack after a brief skirmish in which three Ravosan privateers were slain. The haversack had suffered damage, likely from a sword slash, and was no longer usable.
A cursory investigation of the scene revealed the Ravosans became victims of Tanthalas Aerabor and his ally of circumstance, Brom Nekresh.
Purpose
A leather-bound tome, cracked with time, detailing the personal experiences of the former Speaker of the Moon, Tanthalas Aerabor. The journal is ancient and worn, with many pages now missing. A locking clasp resides on the front cover of the book, once a meger deterent to those attempting to look inside the volume without consent. The lock has been damaged and no longer holds.
Ruined Journal of Tanthalas Aerabor
7 Highsun, 312 BCR: Word arrived today that my dear sister Larenleis was murdered at the rendezvous point where she was to parley with the humans regarding violence against the First Children. The interrogators claim that the humans first blamed us! But soon enough they spoke the truth; that a man named Reldane Erdric attacked my kin under a banner of truce. Our superior means of divination have revealed that the foul 'king' poisoned both friend and foe alike. If they wish for war, we will give it to them.
16 Dawningeve , 310 BCR: I formally accepted the mantle of Speaker of the Moon earlier today. I must confess that even though I had stated time and again that I did not wish this great responsibility thrust upon me, the chance to serve my people fills me with a sense of pride. They gaze upon me with adoration and respect. They will adore me all the more when I bring victory to our people and wrest our ancestral lands away from the human filth.
12 Flamewane, 291 BCR: When our people learned of the news today I felt a surge of pride. The young prince, killed in his own palace and the heart of human power lay in waste. Yet in these moments - in the dark as I reflect on this war - I am not so proud. Our people die in droves like the humans, human filth as Sammastar constantly reminds me, do. Our blood mingles with theirs on the killing fields as our bloods mingled with theirs in the day of Kithas. I fear my sister would not want this. I KNOW she would not want this and I know what she must think of me. I’m caught now, snared, in a web I cannot break from. The Sunari lust for vengeance will consume all of Amnestria, mark my words.
21 Rainmoot, 279 BCR. The capital, Stonehaven – King’s Bastion, burns. The hearts of the Sunari burn even brighter while mine cools by the hour. Tomorrow I leave with the Armada and visit the battle front. I suppose I should spend this evening practicing my smile and enthusiasm.
21 Rainmoot, 79 BCR: 200 years to the day I have been gone. This war should have ended a century ago and yet here we are - Begrudging respect to our adversaries. Reports have be coming in during the last week indicating the hill dwarves of Harrenhal have come to the aid of the humans. Sammastar believes we can still win this war handedly. I have been proposing we parley, and redraw our territories. Surely both nations are capable of seeing the merit to this idea – and yet broaching it to the Sun Speaker was not received well.
20 Winterwane, 29 BCR: a new Erdric King has been found. I tire of this.. (the ink drags off the page)
15 Flamerule, 27 BCR: Sammastar Ancathildin is dead. How his killers circumvented the wards around the Speaker’s tower I do not know – but I know I am not safe. I have no desire to continue this campaign. We have lost and yet the Sunari desire to drive forward to their own extinction!
10 Flamewane, 27 BCR: I see adversaries everywhere. The Harpers, they were called. That is the group claiming responsibility for the death of the Sun Speaker. I know they come for me as well. I had asked our magisters to reinforce the locks and wards around my chamber, but I am scared. Alone. Why did I allow my grief to sweep me up in this fruitless conflict? Larenleis – I am so sorry.
26 Drawingeve, 1 AR: Today I signed the treaty. The war is over. Not a single one of my “kin” showed themselves. Pride and cowardliness – to Sharodal with the Sunari! I remember the feeling long ago of my people looking towards me with pride on their faces. Now their shameful glares are all that greet me. I have tarnished the name of my house, my family, my sister. I am no Lunara. Tomorrow I will leave all this behind me. May Isha one day find me worthy of her grace again.
A great tear is present in the middle of the book where many pages are torn away. The spine is cracked and small threads hang loose.
Nearer to the back of the book, where pages still cling to the damaged spine there is more writing, but in different and much fresher ink. No dates are present in the entries.
Haven’s Heroes are within the city, no doubt here looking for the guild. Ander’ies was so certain his cipher was unbreakable – the fool. With the coming of the new moon, all will be set right. Perhaps it is most fortuitous that these would-be heroes will be the first to join my new legion.
Fortune favors this night! Our newest family member, young Tilda Windcrest brought down the mightiest of Haven's heroes. Not only did she bring me a goliath to raise and bolster our ranks, but she brought me another treasure as well. A trinket that whispers to me – there is a familiarity to it. Something that sits just beyond memory. I must reflect upon this.. but I dare not place it around my neck. Not just yet.
Saeryn grows bold. Despite my multiple warnings she attempted to don the necklace this eve. I had to break her arm. If she defies me again I will remove it, and her head as well.
The Raven’s Jewel. That is its name! A token of a bygone time which was entrusted to the First Children to guard. How these loathsome pests came to possess it I do not know – but I’ll make certain to find out before I snuff the life out of the last of them. Today I contacted an old ally, a man I haven’t seen in an age. Keivthiras barely recognized me, though I can understand why. What was most odd was that he knew little of our past, though I could tell he was trying to deceive me into believing he did. When I have bled this town, perhaps I will return “home” and speak with young Ancathildin in person.
Entries in the document which point to specific years are strictly for reference purposes. Date formatting uses the Andieran calander created by the human nations, and is not accurate to elven society.
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