Bartertown, at last something to distract me from the tedium of our trip up the Serpent; a chance to prove my honor in conflict with merchants from across the land.

Upon arriving I asked Orin where she had last seen Ganru; as she and the k'stulaami had traveled here with him. I found the troubadour performing at an inn known as the Happy Gargoyle. I took the piece of tin that he's had the audacity to call a sword, and presented him with the choice of either Death's Needle or Pain's Tongue, regaling him with the history of each.

In the end I passed on both Pain's Tongue and its history into his safe keeping, that the weapon might see use in a proper legend.

This is my first trip into Throal proper, further than the Grand Bazaar at any rate. I find the dwarves to be... boisterous. After we'd left the bazaar we came across more groups of "debating" dwarves than I can count. At one point I feared I would be receiving a jail sentence as one of the dwarves had the moxy to debate me about whether or not Throal should have financial dealings with Thera. The very notion is practically condoning slavery, unbelievable what ideas some of these lost children have.

Orin, Amber, and I have booked rooms at an Inn known as the Fur-covered Elephant; we got a fair deal by paying for a full month. Amber has much research to do in the library, and I at last feel the need to find instruction in the further ways of nethermancy. I loathe soiling the art taught to me by Neela and Elkezar with the vision of another, but my vengeance requires I hone my talents.

We awoke early, and brought our journal (I had Wisp compile mine and Amber's, to present the most balanced view possible of Heart's of Vengeance) and the journal of poor Valos, who it turns out was not quite the fool I'd taken him for. A fool yes, but not a complete fool, he showed a surprising knowledge of the astral for a thief, and the entire discipline should morn his passing. I added a personal note to the transcription of his journal, at the end, detailing the last moments of his life. I gave also a copy of my own chronicle, the road that led me to Hearts of Vengeance

Merrox himself received our journals. He seems quite disturbed by our groups name, he even urged us to change it; I fear the fires of my wrath burn to hot for even his wisdom to quell. I will not stop until I see Thera in flames.

I spoke (er, wrote?) too hastily of Master Merrox yesterday. He has shown me a miracle, no more than a miracle. Where to start... I can still hardly think... I've tried not to think for so long, forsaken all hope, that I'm not sure I can let myself believe in this even now. But I have to, or else all hope is lost.

I'm not making sense, I know. I'm exhausted, and I'm ranting with a quill. I was having breakfast with Orin, intending to set out afterwards to find a mentor who's honor is worthy of me as a student, which I found, or rather Merrox found, but I'm getting ahead of myself. I'd assigned Wisp to follow Amber (to make it look like she was the party's master of nethermancy), and he came bursting through the door while we were eating. Amber had sent Wisp for me upon the direct request of Master Merrox; he wanted a personal audience with me, as soon as possible.

Intrigued, as I knew that Merrox had set aside our journals for his own person review, I swallowed the bite of food in my mouth, bid farewell to Orin, and followed Wisp back to the library (thankfully he seems to have learned the way, I'd have been completely lost).

When I arrived, Amber was already lost in the journals she was studying, and Merrox was waiting for me. Wisp resumed his place with Amber, and I followed the dwarf out of the building and into town. Silent, he led me to an Inn, and introduced me to a human, Tobias. Before taking his leave, he said something about owing me at least hope, I fear I cannot remember Master Merrox's full reason, but it doesn't matter (no offense).

Tobias and I left the bar, and up into a private room. There he told me his story. He had been naught but a troubadour, unskilled in battle. His wife, a swordmistress, fell in battle against ork scorchers. The loss had nearly destroyed him. But he learned of a legend; it is said that when the name-givers of Barsaive sleep, when they dream, Death also dreams. When Death dreams, the souls of the dead dance, a grand masquerade ball held each night as we drift into slumber.

There are those nethermancers, rare and few, who have learned to craft their own masks; those who have learned the secrets of joining the dead in their dance. Tobias traveled long, and found a master who knew the secret. His master taught him the way of nethermancy, and when at last he was ready, made certain that he knew how to craft the mask.

Tobias spent a day in preparation, after spending I know not how long crafting the mask. He joined Death's dance, and though the dead may lie, and though all wear masks to hide themselves, he found his wife, he lifted her mask, and awoke, her in his arms.

I'd heard rumors, have remembered legends and fairy tales... but I'd never dared hope that such a feat was possible. I have pledged to Tobias that if he can teach me the way of making the mask, anything I have is his, everything I have. Perhaps a foolish promise, perhaps brash, but it is made.

I spent the rest of the day in training with Tobias.

I awoke this morning, eager to resume my training with Tobias. For the first time in... well ever, I have a purpose apart from vendetta. Again Merrox sent for me, Orin and I both responded to his summons, sensing that something might be wrong.

Merrox has handpicked Hearts of Vengeance for a task of importance to the kingdom of Throal. Merrox introduced us the Ambassador General, who explained the situation. A young man from Travar met with an accidental death, his family has blamed one of Throal's miners, and paid to have him abducted, and taken back to Travar.

We have been sent to retrieve him. I am deeply honored that Master Merrox has considered us for this task, but I am eager to return to my studies. Did I not feel such a deep debt to him, I would have refused. I only hope that we can apprehend the kidnappers before they reach Travar, or else I fear my training yesterday will be forgotten.

We chose to travel to the head of the Coil, hoping against hope that the kidnappers intend to take him by riverboat. It was Orin who spotted the trio. They didn't seem to have any dwarf with them, and although I could detect some illusion about their leader, could not see any evidence of the miner.

The party consisted of two humans and a t'skrang, all mounted. We brought Orin's carpet in low, and matched their pace. We exchanged greetings, and then, alert for signs of a lie, I asked if they knew the whereabouts of the dwarf.

They denied it, of course. But I saw their eyes go wide. I saw their nostrils flair. I saw one of them reach for his pouch when I mentioned the miner.

I gave them our ultimatum, they could either turn over the dwarf then, peacefully, or we could kill them, loot them, and get the dwarf anyways. They chose to fight; I cremated their bodies and saved their skulls to decorate Blood's Rest.

I have the pouch in which they kept the bound dwarf. The pouches magic is greater than the magic of my own, I am eager to study it, after I complete my training.

Orin, the dwarf, and I returned to Throal, Amber and Wisp are following behind us, to bring back the horses.

Unfortunately it seems that our rescue of the miner has given us a measure of fame in Throal. This is most aggravating. After Amber returned with the horses, we had to hastily clean to receive medals from King Varulus III. I noted that when we were introduced, a convenient "accident" kept the rest of Throal from hearing our party's name past "The Hearts".

Although I'm deeply honored, I'm also quite embarrassed by how many dwarves witnessed the event. It seems I no longer have any privacy at all. I don't suppose I could get away with beating the entire population of Throal?

A wealthy noble invited us to a party at his estate in two days, Orin gleefully accepted before we had a chance to find a graceful way of avoiding it.

The party was, horrible. I'm certain it was the height of dwarven fashion and music, but I found the entire thing rather distasteful; made no less distasteful when the host revealed his ulterior motives.

While Orin maintained appearances for us, Amber and I met with our host. It seems that he is having trouble getting caravans through a pass south of the Scol Mountains. He has several things he wishes to attempt first, but if these fail, he has requested our help in this matter. We have, begrudgingly, agreed.

We'd better at least get paid for this one.

I completed training in the 5th circle of nethermantic mysteries under Tobias.

The miner we rescued invited us to dinner at his home this evening. It would seem that the punishment for a single good deed is unending. I feel rather, miserable after having seen the accommodations in which he and his family live. They shared their food with us, no doubt paid for from the sale of his kidnappers' horses. That these people should be so grateful as to waste their money upon us. I just don't get it.

After dinner, we lingered for a time, and made the (un)fortunate discovery that two of the miner's children have the potential to become adepts; a twelve year old boy and a ten year old girl. The boy's temperament seems ideally suited to Amber. The girl has a definite interest in magic and after speaking with her I have no doubt she could make a magnificent nethermancer one day, but I think her true calling might be the path of the troubadour.

Amber and I discussed it, hopefully in a means that family cannot understand. We cannot train them ourselves, as much as we both wish that we could. We must find them mentors thought, we cannot allow them to miss their chances. I will take the girl to Tobias in the morning; his inn is a far safer place than traveling with the Hearts of Vengeance.

I picked up the girl, and noted that Amber had not yet been by for the boy child. I hoped she would not linger long, his eagerness could prove dangerous if left untempered.

I took her to meet Tobias, and to my relief he has agreed to see to her training; though I believe he intends to train her first as a troubadour and only second as a magician. Although I agree this is probably the best course, I must admit that my pride would rather see her become a magician first.

Amber came by after the library had closed for the day. It seems that she has had no luck finding a tutor for the boy, at least not one proficient enough in the hawk hatchets to train the boy as he desires. Hawk hatchets, the favored weapons of k'stulaami. I've known two who could train the boy with them. One lives in the Twilight Peaks and the other...

I told Amber, that if she doesn't want the boy traveling with us, she needs to get me an orichalcum piece.

I don't know how Amber did it, but she did it. I have no idea if what I'm going to attempt will work. But I can only pray that it does. In case this fails, Amber is searching for a mentor from whom she can learn the art of the ghost master. I am preparing for the most difficult thing I will ever do.

I have used Guiding Gale, and Tobias's bone circle to call Neela from Death's dance. She is willing to teach the boy, though not even she knows if one summoned with the nethermancers' rite will be able to train a swordmaster.

It was the first time I have seen her since...

We failed with the nethermancers' rite. Neela was unable even to linger when asked to train the boy. It was heart breaking to see her so powerless, humbled by the arcane rules of a stupid rite. I will free her from this misery, and if I cannot, I will gladly join her there for eternity.

Amber has learned the ritual, and with it we were at last able to summon Neela properly, so that she can train the child. He will never know the cost of his education (both to Amber who procured the coin, and to me). That is as it should be. Amber and I have seen to our duty as adepts, both of the miner's children shall have the very best training.

I have spent most of the month studying spells with Tobias and ducking what remains of our fading fame here. At least we can finally walk down the streets without facing a mob. If this is what fame brings, I'm going to give some serious thought to infamy.

Tobias invited Amber, Orin, and I - as well as the miner's family to attend a concert by a most unique troubadour. Elphaba by name, she is a blood elf, and more than just a troubadour I think, if the trained beasts in her show are any indication. The children, Kayla and Xeros, seemed fascinated by her, of course I think that thin air could fascinate Xeros.

I took a moment to examine her, astrally. It was a disturbing experience. I am familiar with the concept of binding a spirit into an item to provide it with an enchantment, but the magic of the Blood Wood has bound a wood spirit into her living pattern; a most unpleasant wood spirit at that. Her pattern, and that of her companion are so tightly bound together, I doubt that any but the greatest spell caster could disentangle them safely.

T'soar, our old friend from the raid on the K'tenshin plantation was also in attendance. We've decided to ask both he, and the blood elf to accompany us on our task for the merchant.

Using some rather clever disguises, we have successfully joined the caravan, posing as non-adepts. Only we know our secret purpose with them.

The caravan has now left Bartertown, I wonder how many days until we get some action.

The caravan was attacked, archers lurking upon both sides of narrow canyon assaulted us, a few using fire arrows. The battle was quite intense at the first, as by necessity we had to appear unprepared. Once Amber recovered from her initial surprise, and Orin dropped a Nobody Here upon myself and herself the tide quickly changed. The archers seemed ill equipped to deal with animate boulders and wagons.

I have made a terrible mistake, however. In my eagerness to question the captives, and learn where there base was and who had tipped them off about the caravan, I used torture. I did not intend it, but the victim of a Pain spell expired due to the spell's effect. I showed no reaction to his death, even used it to finally break another of the archers. The information I gained allowed us to track down their illusionist plant, and will now allow us to find their base and crush the fools, but... at what cost to my soul?

After we had apprehended the dwarven illusionist who had been alerting the raiders to the choice caravans, we made good time to their cavernous base. From the back of Orin's carpet, I watched as three animate boulders trundled into the cavern to bring out the five raiders we knew were within. Amber, ever eager for a battle, taunted one out. An ork beastmaster with a strange black cat. Not wishing her to have two opponents, a quick jolt of pain removed the feline. Amber finished off her prey with her typical playfulness.

Elphaba, however, also taunted an opponent of her own from the battle. An air sailor who leapt onto the carpet with ease. She seemed quite shocked, and so I pained him as well. What she did to him after though... it was enough to make my skin crawl.

We escorted the caravan, along with their numerous prisoners and extra trade goods (recovered from the bandit's cave), into town today. Their destination reached our work here is done. We will return to Bartertown, by way of a quick dip into Blood Wood. Elphaba is a little homesick.

We arrived at the edge of Blood Wood. Only Elphaba and her new cat (rescued from the dead ork bandit) are going in; the rest of her animals, her wagon, and we shall wait on the outskirts of the twisted place.

Elphaba found some dead thorn wolves, ritualistically mutilated, with some of their organs missing. Against are better judgment, we brought the rest of the party into the wood to help her investigate. We spent half a day searching the trees for signs of what did it, but found nothing. Elphaba decided to go on to the nearest village of her people and warn them, the rest of us elected to await her return outside the wood again.

On our way out, we were accosted by a patrol of blood elves, but they allowed us passage out of the wood after answering a minimum of questions.

Orin, Amber, and I have left T'soar and Elphaba to meet up with us in Bartertown, as we have pressing business. We reached Bartertown today, many days ahead of them. The owner of the Fur-covered Elephant had our old rooms ready, this inn has become almost a second home to me.

Amber has completed some training, and so now we leave for Blood's Rest.

We have reached Blood's Rest and Orin has sworn her oath to join the Heart's of Vengeance. Amber is going to construct some beautiful doors for our retreat, and I have some plans for working the stone, I won't finish it this visit, but I'm going to smooth the interior walls and ceiling to look like liquid blood, with faces pushing through the surface.

I have shaped one of the outcroppings to look like the face of the man I killed, as he died in agony.

We returned to Bartertown today. Orin will be staying here with T'soar and Elphaba, Amber and I have business with Elkezar.

We have reached the moothome, Amber and I earned our passage working upon an airship that was headed this way. I am looking forward to seeing the children.

I haven't written in a while, too much has been going on. Amber has been spending all of her time and energy diversifying her talents. Orin and I have spent a little time together, but not much as she is also occupied with a quest of self-growth.

The face of the archer I killed still haunts my dreams. To kill someone in battle is one thing, to do it on accident, and be unable to show remorse... well that's something else.

As an act of contrition I took the remaining saural hides, and constructed from them a Whip of Defense. I named this fine thing Kayla's Song and I have given it to her. She has progressed well on her way to becoming a troubadour, and I hope that in time my gift may server her well.

I have since dedicated all of my free time to aiding a construction project in one of the inner cities. After the first week I had a few words with the foreman, and the questions from the dwarves died down. I was surprised to find a number of orks participating in the construction as well.

I gave my time and that of a number of "Amber's" spirit servants for free. It feels good to be working simple stone, and not making weapons of war. It is not our way, but I'm finding a balance that I lost somewhere here. The spirit of Upandal moves me here, showing me that vengeance is not the only force in the world, though even here, in this tranquility it gnaws upon my soul.

For too long I have been a vengeful and destructive force of nature. My soul strays close to the madness of Raggok, and I have not found the taste of his madness as foul as I should.

But here, building simple things, and building great things, I have found a balance. Here in the arms of Upandal I have found the strength to stifle if not silence the voice of Raggok.

There are few joys greater than seeing a finished house and knowing that you have helped build a place that will shelter a family. This is what I want to do with my life, build. Though I fear there are still many distasteful things that I must do.

I proclaim that here, now, I K'rtog Bleakwind of Clan Firewalker shall forevermore be known as a questor of Upandal.

We have completed our respective trainings, but Amber still wishes to spend some time at Court, and researching her quest in the library. I have decided to better equip the dwarven children. Amber has given me two wing feathers from her familiar, and I shall consult with Xeros regarding his favorite color this afternoon.

I have completed a fine weapon for the lad. Wait, did I just say 'lad'? This place is rubbing off on me, and I'm not entirely certain I'm comfortable with it. I digress; the weapon, First Dance of Xeros, is a living crystal hawk hatchet in the k'stulaami fashion. Embedded within each blade is a single feather from his lady love's familiar. Amber's still researching, I have another idea, but this will take even longer.

Small cave-in at the city today, no significant injuries, the spirit servants were able to extricate the workers from the predicament.

I finished my final, okay next, gifts to the dwarven children - masks of the sun and moon. The mask of the sun is the Visor of Xeros, and the mask of the moon is the Veil of Kayla. The children love them; sometimes I think I spoil them too much. I've promised that when he's ready, I will craft the Second Dance of Xeros for him, since I find symmetry appealing, I'll make a threaded instrument of some sort for Kayla at the same time.

Apparently Amber secured both children jobs in the court of King Varulus III, and there was a masquerade last night. The children wore the masks I'd made for them, and now everyone who's anyone wants a K'rtog original. I'd best improve my skill; I went through a number of failed attempts before I got the children's just right.

Amber has finished her research, and everyone else has finished their training. We're setting out for Landis today; I honestly haven't bothered to ask why. As we also have a royal commission to map the new face of Landis, Master Merrox has kindly allowed us to turn in our journals early, as this royal business will have us far from Throal come Earthtime. I have said my goodbyes to my friends on the work crews in the inner cities. I dedicate this journal to them, and the enlightenment they have shown me.

I bid farewell to...

• [lists the name of every friend he made on the work crews. I spent Karma on a Perception roll and got a 14 to make certain K'rtog remembers all of them.]

...dwarves, men, and orks of honor all.