Hei Corellon shar shelevu. May your light bring grace and beauty to all worthy of it
In an effort to clear my thoughts of distractions before my devotions, I have begun to keep this record. Perhaps I will even send a copy of it back to the temple in Mithrendain when I have filled its pages. I should remember to look into a ritual for copying writings the next time we are in a city of decent size.
Traveling in Abeir Toril has been very jarring for me. Though it was the land of my birth, it has not been my home since I entered the feywild over ten years ago. Being back here I find I am remebering little things from my childhood. The soud of the birds here, the grating sound of the common tongue and other uncouth languages, and an avalanche of trivialities. They do not stir fond feelings in me, but only make me long to return to the feywild. I admit I still do not fully understand why the Seldarine have sent me here, but I am making the best of it and I believe I have aquitted myself well. Already I have felled foul enemies of the elves and discovered a few minor arcane treasures.
Though I hate to admit it, none of this would have been possible without the companions with which I travel. They are very different from what I know. I had never met a genasi before I encountered our leader Kadath and his companion Velandra. They have a primal beauty and I find that Velandra is, at tmes, even more deeply initiated into arcane lore than I. Ulik, a dragonborn sorcerer, also impresses me with his knowledge of magic, though I had always been under the impression that true arcane mastery took many years of arduous study, practice, and memorization. He however seems to have a natural ability that is as yet unexplained. Then there is Brandis. An infuriating little trollop who sullies the elven half of his heritage. He is however very pleasing to the eye and has a voice that is so coated in silver that even I find myself warming to him from time to time. If he applied himself, he could be so much more. Perhaps I can provide an example for him to follow, should he care to notice.
My companions and I rooted out a nest of thieves in Loudwater. I was concerned because they were led by a wretched creature of the shadowfell which styled itself The Lady of Shadows. We killed the shadow beast and the rest of her minions who had been terrorizing the area's merchants and, it turns out, running a slave trade through town of small chidlren. At Kadath's insistence we traveled north from Loudwater, on a tip from one of the agents of the thieves, to the ruins of a temple to Kord at Zelbross. There we encourntered the rest of the bandits connected to the Lady of Shadows in Loudwater. We quickly scoured their filth from the holy ruins and freed a gaggle of small children. After taking the young ones back to Loudwater we set off again towards the Tower of Spellgard. We have heard rumor of one of my people who is also traveling there. He seems to be using fey magics to conceal his true identity, appearing to others as exactly the sort of person they would like to see. I shall keep an eye out for him. I always feel more at ease speaking in my own tongue.
On the road there we stopped briefly at Taransen's Grave. We had heard rumors of treasure in the tomb, but seeing as it was the final resting place of several respected dwarven warriors of note we decided to respect the sanctity of their eternal rest and passed on towards Spellgard. I admit I wish we could have stolen inside the tomb, if only to see what works of art, or at least the dwarven version of what "art" is, had been worked inside. I also am feeling reluctant to meet this ghost that haunts the sundered city of Spellgard. Though she may indeed be omniscient, it matters not as she only allows one question and it will force me to make certain choices I would rather not.
Once we arrived at Spellgard it was, sadly, in much ruin. I could see the splendor of its past in the one remaining tower, which obviously has preserving magic woven into its stone. I am remembering that the peoples outside the feywild are capable of beauty and great works of art. I am sure Corellon quietly inspires their hand, even if they are unaware of his presence. Praise be to him.
We have taken up rooms at the Monastery of the Precipice, where an order of monks seems to have taken on the task of caretakers of this ruined realm. There are many others here in addition to the brothers. Mostly adventurers seeking riches or an audience with the lady. One noble is actually attempting to restore the city to its former glory, if slowly. I admire his efforts and intend to assist him if possible, though that effort may be hampered by an infestation of wererats. He believes that restoring the beauty of old might bring the favor of the lady and grant one an audience with her.
I am starting to dread meeting this apparition, but the hand of fate has sent me here and so I shall do Corellon's work where his wisdom sends me.