A leather bound journal kept on the person of Arterian Lunesco. Many of the earlier entries - chronicling some harrowing journey through the Ring Wastes - have been damaged beyond recognition.Burning. Pain sticks to everything.
I run through a prismatic fog. A hand tries to take my ankle.
I scream. The air that enters my mouth is more pain. Something breaks. I run.
I wake up.
Iyar 13th, IY 7787I managed to sleep most comfortably on the last leg of the trip to the Citadel of Ephia's Well - the destination, so far as I can discern, for most refugees coming in from the Ring Wastes.
There is an ordered society here of the likes I would never have imagined in the Old World. A city of competing ideals - but built to co-exist under some semblance of stability and order. My father would have never approved, espousing that unity under forced doctrine is more stable than a society allowed to change for the worse. Perhaps he would have been in league with the Purple.
I think there is something precious here. Something I must help to grow - or try.
In equal measure, my scientific curiosity is piqued - I am distraught that an entire field (Astrology) had been lost to us for so long - but it blossoms here with inquisitive minds. There are resources aplenty to pursue my own abjurative research, and so many questions I've not the time to write of them all yet.
Instead, I find myself thrust into politics. I could not help it. The League of White's altruism is more practical than some might see. But I will show them. Charity begets prosperity - the Citadel is burgeoning with refugees of little means and choice. Give them the tools to work, and watch them prosper.
Notes:
- Palamon - A good man, if a bit of an idealist. The first I've come to call a friend. I wonder if he's a fit for the Balladeers.
- Shane Gallows - Enthusiastic, and a fellow White - I think we'll pull in the same direction at different angles. I'll endeavor to write something for his paper.
- Jabir of Warad - A holy warrior of the Wanderer God - another I've come to call friend, though I hope he practices discretion with his divine sight. He leans on it, and it may dull his other senses.
Iyar 15th, IY 7787Where is Constantine Diakos?
I find myself unsure of how to proceed. I've become more knowledgeable of the process, but that only makes the task seem all the more daunting. Dinari are hard to earn in the Ash wastes; the race favors the selfish. The very nature of becoming Voiced, of which the only method I know is to raise the 5000 dinari, seems to imply most would vote for the Purple Legate - in order to preserve the status quo that empowers them, or the Gold - in order to remain in abundance.
And yet, he is the former before Syter. How did the White League win before?
I know little of the man, but the Legate Zarat likened me to him before I received my White cloak. I took that as a badge of honor, though I wonder if she was mocking. I will admit I too was moved by Zarat's speech of broken spokes, though I question the sincerity. She is a flawless charmer, with poise and grace. Fierce competition.
I have found myself more acclimated to my new home - though I can still only afford a mere beggar's cot at the Krak. At least I've finally procured my merchant's license. Yet, when I was about to begin my business and open a stall, I was distraught to learn from Shane Gallows that there is too a brewing license. Absurd. Is this over-bureaucracy really necessary?
Likely not - and I suspect Shane Gallows is well aware. I'm starting to see more of his self-interested gusto - but I'll not judge a man (lawfully) pursuing his ambitions. After all, I too dream of an establishment and business of my own, the resources and means to conduct my research freely.
I will abide by the laws. The written word of rule is sacred; and if it is unjust, it must be changed from within the system. I can see how easy it is to lose principle in the Great Ash - it is cruel, and the living is hard, but I must keep myself.
Notes:
- Hammad and Egruit - Competent travelling companions of "the Order of the Manticore", whom seek the "Starlight Library". Hammad's ramblings of his visions of this library make me question his sanity - but he and Egruit have both kept my life on more than one occasion in our travels, and so I am endeared to them - even if I disagree with Hammad's politics.
- Aubrey and Kypros - My political comrades in White. We've discussed some ploys to try and bring Voiced to the White before the elections, but I feel the odds are against us. Aubrey is possessed of a pragmatism that I sometimes lack, and Kypros is wise - though I hear him straining and coughing, and I've yet to see his face. I wonder if he is debilitated or ill.
- Marcellus Saenus - It must be providence that brought him to me. And too, appropriately, is he a fledgling priest of Izdu - the God of the Wheel I feel most drawn to. I've neglected my spirituality for a long time, since the Ringfall, truly. Perhaps it is time I soothe the soul. I must endeavor to speak with him on such matters.
Iyar 19th, IY 7787Am I a man playing at virtue, or am I sincere?
I have grappled with the morality of accruing 5000 dinari while also espousing charity; I still believe mercantile and plying one's trade does not preclude thoughtful consideration of those in need, but I admit I see the hypocrisy in participating and contributing to the same system that impoverishes the least fortunate of us.
Ibn Ghasil seems to resent me for it. Kypros looks at me and my trade with disdain. Even Shane, whom I terribly misjudged, could see through that I am a man speaking of principle but truly playing at it as a toddler imitates a parent. I must humble myself, listen to wisdom, and admit ignorance.
I will endeavor to restore Magus Asterbadi's vision of the Ideal Republic. The Assembly is not as it should be. It presents a classic moral quandary; do the ends justify the means? Is it worth any cost to achieve a utopian society? Even one's own 'soul'?
I do not think so. In our actions, we reverberate and influence those around us; we inspire them, or push them away - this I have learned from the stresses between Aubrey, Kypros and myself.
I have found a most curious thing on a recent expedition with some adventurers and well-wishers from the Krak - to investigate a missing Groknak. After trailing after a clan of Melek, we found the beast inside of a cave - eyes red, mechanically whirring and breathing deadly steam upon us. When we brought it down, we found that it had been turned into a thing of metal and wire.
They called it "iron rot", and superstitiously labelled it an evil malady. But I saw it for what it was; a marvelous feat of engineering. The creature had been mechanically implanted with some sort of small piece of controlling metal, only a chip of it - this device, I can only guess from my cursory study, influences the creature to behave in some pre-arranged manner. This chip of metal could in fact be repurposed and used again to influence another host. Unfortunately, they would not allow me to study it further, and immediately smashed the device to pieces against the sands.
I would venture to guess it is related to the strange machinations found in deeper places. Something of a long lost civilization. Fomorian? Difficult to currently discern. Clearly, it has been discovered, studied, and repurposed to terrible effect.
The use here is, of course, highly unethical. To control a sentient creature against its will to do ill is as arguably egregious as the torturous animation of corpses or spirits by the cruel binding of soul.
The work of these cultists must be opposed at every turn, I chaff that they somehow got that scroll into my pa- *Unintelligible, furiously scribbled out.*Notes:
- Urr-Anash: The first Stonefolk I have met and spoken to in earnest. He showed me the Tablet, and shared with me his 'Song' - bringing the concerns of his people and their lack of fresh water, he hopes the White league can speak for them. I have promised that much. The Stonefolk are skilled masons and laborers, and I think the Assembly could be convinced to allow them Well access, or perhaps expand an aquaduct of some sort to the Tablet in exchange for their labor and strength in construction and repair projects.
Divulgence of Zohir: A heretical and foul account. I should destroy it, but I wonder if I should not share this with Marcellus fir-*Unintelligible, furiously scribbled out.*- Sadira of the Uutramut: A fellow scholar and member of the League of White. I am pleased to have met her; she seems quite knowledgeable in the politics of foreign city-states, and has acquired her Voice. An excellent boon to our cause. I should endeavor to speak with her on the upcoming campaign, to begin strategizing, while I still earn my own Voice.
Iyar 24th, IY 7787Once again, I prove my ignorance, my arrogance. I am the fool.
I'd never felt so vulnerable in Qadira as I did since those harrowing days travelling the Ring Wastes. My spellbook in tatters, nothing but a minor illusion spell to keep me, the stinging prismatic fogs and scorching ash winds that scoured my hands and throat.
It is a terrible feeling - to be made to feel so small. But I had brought it on myself. The search for Constantine Diakos, the politics, the conspiracies and social maneuvering; I risked much for something I should not have involved myself in. Still I do not have a true measure of the man, and as I constantly seem to misjudge the character of those I look up to, I shall reserve judgement still. The signs point to Ibn Ghasil being right; Diakos had been consorting with foreign sovereigns by his own admission - but I wonder, if he is not grasping at something noble.
The system is flawed - broken. This obsession over wealth had even threatened to compromise my own character - a thing so sickening to me, that when it dawned, I felt the need to give away all of my dinari just to prove to myself I had in some way still been sincere.
"I am a man of principle", I repeat like a mantra, wondering if it still holds any meaning.
And again I am the fool, for I had so trusted in the sincerity of Shane Gallows. Even as the hounds bayed for him, in the Hall and without, I felt compelled to defend him. I would have defended him had I been called to witness - but would I have been doubly (triply?) the fool? It is true that he allowed me my licenses though I could not afford them, but all the while he knowingly overcharged for his services, and loaned me only with the self-interest of profiting further from my destitution with a charged interest.
Something still tells me, though, that there is a goodness in that man that I would call a friend. Distorted and corrupted by a society that places its merit on dinari, to a man with dreams and ambitions of his own - could we expect any different? Perhaps I am, four times now, the fool for thinking so.
I recede further from these politics to pursue my avenues of research. The Pra'Raji divergent faith has my interest, I shall have to look into acquiring those keys to investigate further...
Notes:
- Aubrey: A woman of many faces. She speaks with such eloquence among her peers, loquacious and refined - but in Qadira she easily spoke as a scoundrel and followed the motions of criminals and pirates. Who is this woman, really?
- Merik Pennat: I bless the ash storm that sequestered us in the caravan house and brought us to camaraderie. I will be slower to trust and extend friendship, now, at risk of being the fool again - but my intuition tells me I can trust him.
- Palamon: Still, one of my closest and trusted companions. I hate that I may have to keep things from him, but his idealism may blind him to the pragmatism of scholarship - there can be no compromise in the pursuit of knowledge, for the good of all, and he is better left to focus on his quest for the chalice, while I pursue my own grail.
- Aji: A man that may appreciate the need for discretion. I will have to contact him about acquiring some books...
*Tucked into the pages, between some entries, is a half-finished essay on a separate bit of parchment.*
On Divinity,
In the days since the Ringfall, I have thought about the nature of the Gods, and the so-called gods, and the implications of how far beyond our understanding they truly are.
The crux of faith is that one must accept that some things are and will remain a mystery. You must simply place your faith in the Gods. When I was a child, I placed my faith in a promise, 'the Promise'. The sun would always rise again - that was a certainty. At least that part was true, the heresies built around it were not. 'The Lord Departed', another name that was a lie. It makes me shudder to remember some of the blood rituals my family would perform, all under false pretenses. But what is 'False Divinity', and how can it continue to grant its adherents prophecy and powerful magic?
I wonder at the power of belief - if it can manifest a lie into the truth. Or if something alien and unknowable to us answers the lie and strings us along. At least with 'the Promise', I could see the sun rise at dawn every day.
And it still does. Brighter, even, and scorching hot...
Hziran 10th, IY 7787My doubts now nag at me irrepressibly. I read Lhorgul's work and cannot help but feel it all makes sense. On my pride as a scholar I will not be tethered to superstitions and unfounded leaps of faith. We have been burned once before - with the lies of the gods of our old world. If belief is the source of divinity, then is it all smoke and mirrors? Why not, then, believe in something tangible? Something you can see, or feel... "Izdu's wisdom", "the Wheel provides..." - it's all lip service because I fear their zeal and judgement.
I had always thought the Ideal Good was the Moral Good. But what if it's instead the Practical Good...My preparations for an extended project are nearly complete - I have the resources I require to start its funding, and I've spent the past week reacclimating myself to the fundamentals and advanced theories of engineering. Jamileh's advice is that I wait so that trusted professionals can be hired - but trust is a relative thing. I think I shall proceed soon with some of those I've already interviewed.
I wonder if they will be awestruck, if they will feel the very 'divinity' of the machine around them. Its unknowable purpose, its unfathomable size, its mysterious function and power. It is, by description, not so unlike the Gods they revere.
Notes:
- Sol Auk: He has proposed a profitable arrangement, leveraging my alchemical formulae. If I could only develop a cheaper and more efficient method to produce his vices, it would help fund my endeavors. I wonder what else I could offer him...?
- Isotta Delmare/Banda Rossa: A hard woman, one might say even cold. Whatever was said between her and the coffee house owner left him shaking. I imagine the Banda Rossa carry a certain reputation, and I wonder if relying on independent contractors is not more prudent for my purposes.