Journal of Arcadius

In Sigil

Despite it all, our time here is proving productive. Steinbjorn, with admirable, if wine-enhanced, tenacity, identified the vast haul of items buried in Hrogar's Bag of Holding. Others sold them around the city, and the value of what we had turned out to be astonishing. My portion alone was over 30,000 gold! Some of the items had been sitting in that bag, unused and unsold, for months, while we suffered for lack of adequate equipment. My confidence in Hrogar's talents as a quartermaster and merchant have been, to say the least, shaken.

This new fortune is going to good use, however. I have paid for upgrades in the enchantments of my armor and shield, traded my ring of protection for a more powerful one, obtained some Gauntlets of Ogre Power, and purchased a magical backpack with compartments much like small Bags of Holding. Even with all that, I've kept enough back to pay for my resurrection, should it be necessary.

By a strange chance of fate, we met Meryk, the cruel-minded Ranger we fought early in our quest, and who as appeared in several of our visions. It seems she is indeed fighting the Aboleth, and we exchanged some useful information. She said that the Aboleth leader is the offspring the one which brought about the original invasion of evil thousands of years ago, and the other six are its own offspring. The remaining Aboleth are known as The Egoist, The Kineticist, The Seer, The Shaper, The Telepath, and The Leader. The one we slew was The Nomad.

May Meryk find some path of redemption from her evil ways, for this is most helpful knowledge, and it is good to know she is on the same side on this fight at least.

In addition, I was able to locate Ragnarr and, through him, Chris. Ragnarr is a sad shadow of his former self, depressed and drunk. As time moves differently here, it has been for him twenty years. Twenty years, cut off from Lord Pelor! Alas for Ragnarr. Steinbjorn and I have spoken to him, and it may be that he is willing to accompany us. Chris on the other hand seems quite happy in this place of high magic.

Finally, Dantroe and Walter-Tupper managed, somehow, to get robbed while walking the streets of Sigil. I can certainly understand how, what with Walter-Tupper walking around wearing a giant mechanical hat, that they might attract the wrong sort of attention... but how did a supposed expert in stealthy doings and subterfuge manage to fall so easily prey to it himself? Ah well, with him, nothing ought to surprise me anymore.

May Ragnarr soon feel once more the light of Pelor upon his mind! For that matter, may I as well. Pelor, I pray to you and offer you thanks, whether or not you can answer them in this place.

*A*