Magellen’s Journal

September 1993

Heading back to “The Village of Lockwood” I sat for awhile in each of the towns appreciating the changing colours of the season. Strengthening my network of people willing to send to me if they hear of anything happening with the orcs, I slowly make my way South.

Thinking over the Prophecy, “When you are contacted by the tree, scry for the shadow hunter in the woods send a note with the bird of death, he will follow with the winged one, if a horned one brings you breakfast, you have found your third, and they will succeed.”

Did I just meet the tree? Is that considered him contacting me? I think when I get back I will grab my father’s old scrying orb and see if I can find the one Mytherial prophesized. This “Shadow Hunter” does he hunt shadows, has he lost his shadow, is he from the Shadow Fell? shuttering I never want to go back there again. Every time you go, it seems to take a piece of your soul…

Entering Lockwood again, I took my time walking around. A new temple was being erected to Chantea, the goddess of agriculture. I guess that makes sense with all the farms they have started in the area. A small orchard tended by an aarakocra, now barren due to the time of year. Seeing the tannery still in tact, I was surprised the smell of it didn’t waft in towards town. Coming upon a stable I inquired from a centaur named, RuAn, if there were any carriages available for future use, laughing at me he pointed down the way towards towards a building going up, “talk to Woody, he’s pretty good, he can make what you need to your design.”

Deciding I could use some dinner, I headed into the Lockwood Tavern. A mechanical being was behind the bar, identifying itself as BART. Ordering dinner at the bar, I asked a few questions, BART had been given as a gift to the Lord from a Lovart for him doing something or other for a Prince. So, the Lord has ties to the King, that must be how he got the title for my family’s land.

Annoyed, but knowing that I wouldn’t have done anything with the land, I looked around the room; surprised with all the races that frequented the tavern, you could expect to be in a big city, not in this backwater town. Seeing a young grung studying a Strixhaven book and practicing what looked to be Control Flames on the candle on his table I went and asked if I may have a seat, showing him my spell book as I pulled out a chair.

I learned he had been released from Strixhaven as he no longer had the tuition. We talked for awhile and I showed him a few hand gestures to improve his casting, as I learned about the town’s finances and that he ran the town’s store with his father.

Continuing my walk, I watched as a large building was going up with the help of a small fire giant. By small, he was about 15 feet tall, but he was fully grown and obviously the run of the litter. Wondering how they control him, I heard someone call for Woody. I turned and saw a halfling come jogging up carrying a bucket full of nails. Looking inside I saw a large forge being installed.

Flagging Woody down, I talked to him about building a carriage, he asked me to stop back next week, that the building would be done then and he could devote time to it. Surprised that he thought this would be done in just a ten day, I agreed and figured it would be a winter project.

Continuing my walk I see the Lord’s house, my great grandfather’s estate, well before it burned, and has now been rebuilt. Thankfully they didn’t build it halfling sized so when they die, at least someone proper can move in.

Coming back to The Scarlet Inn, my old homestead, granted nothing much has changed even though it feels as if everything else has, I mend the rope to the old swing and sit surveying the land. Eventually Winter comes and joins me with a blanket.

We sit and talk for a long time. Coming to grips with the changes has been hard but Winter is still here, my old nursemaid from when I was born. I’ve always taken her for granted and I know I still do and still will going forward. Having a never changing elf as a nursemaid has interesting ramifications.

Looking down at her unblemished, unwrinkled hands holding my much older one, takes me down a road of contemplation. How many more years do I have left on this plane. Will Rose be waiting for me on another or am I damned to the hells while she waits for me at Mount Celestia or Bytopia?

Winter sensing my unease offers a snack before bed. Heading to my childhood bedroom with a cup of warm milk and few cookies. I know I won’t sleep well tonight, but I see a future here, until the river styx decides to sweep me away.