Journal of Arcadius

The Fallen

We fought the guardian of the third gate, a Yuan-Ti, it seemed. The thing used horrible and powerful death magic to strike down Crunch, Keniroh, and Bael'thas in a moment. The gnome vanished somewhwere, without a trace. Ragnarr, Azan, and I found ourselves the last left alive of the party! Dogwater lived too, and decided at last to fight. We charged the Yuan-Ti and with righteous fury dealt it such blows that it fled.

Ragnarr called upon Lord Pelor and destroyed the third gate. We traveled underneath the maze in ethereal form to escape as fast as possible, returning to the first gate, our gate of entrance and of escape. A mighty battle raged between the minions of the Aboleth and the Bebelith invaders. There Ragnarr told us to flee. Alas, he himself did not, and I think could not follow, for the price of his sealing the gates was to be trapped within, on the Aboleth's plane, with swift death a certainty.

Praise be to the fallen, but I think we shall be able to resurrect them. All that is, save Ragnarr, for assuredly his unhoused soul is trapped there, with the Aboleth and its foul friends and foes.

Ragnarr, may we have victory over the Aboleth, and power thereafter to return to this place, destroy the seer, and free your soul!

Ragnarr, you were a true and worthy servant of Lord Pelor, a very hand of the Lord himself!

With courage did you act, nobly and honorably.

I mourn your passing, but know that you did what was right, could have done no other. May you someday find your peace and join Lord Pelor in the radiant light beyond.

Ragnarr, my friend, farewell.

O' Lord Pelor, I praise thee!
O' Lord Pelor, I beg thee to guide and protect your loyal servant Ragnarr, who did what was right.
O' Lord Pelor, I shall do thy will!

*A*

Ragnarr Letters: Psychic Surgeon

(Written in very shaky handwriting)

To: Anna

Dear Lassie,

I'm not really sure if I should be writing this, but I'm going to die, soon. By the time you get this, I'll probably *be* dead. So what the hell.

I think I love you, lass. Or, did love you, I guess, since I'll be dead when you read this. I'm not really sure which is right. I guess I might still love you, wherever I end up.

I know you never really knew me at all. It wasn't like I had much of a chance to take you out for a drink or whatever. But you must have known, being in my head and all, that it was... well, I liked you in my head, I guess. I can't really say why, it just... damn. I liked it. Perhaps a bit more that I should have.

Ah, hell. I've probably said too much about that. Should be writing this anyway.

Anyway, I just... I thought you should know, lass, that if I ever come back, somehow, I'd like to take you out for a drink, take you to my rooms, and let you dig around in my head while I'm in your...

I should stop writing this, shouldn't I?

-Ragnarr

Ragnarr Letters: Tavern Keeper in my Favorite Bar

(Written in somewhat shaky handwriting)

To: The Tavern Keeper of my Favorite Bar in Sigil

If you're getting this, it's because I've died before I could settle up my tab with you. The lad who carries this likely has some money that would have been mine, if I was alive, and he'll be happy to pay my tab for me. Perhaps, if you asked him with a lot of references to honor and my memory, he'd even be willing to pitch in for the purchase of a Ragnarr Memorial Bench, for the spot where I always used to sit.

Cheers,

Ragnarr

Ragnarr Letters: Jacob

Jacob,

If this gets to you, I hope it's without you and Arcadius getting into a fight. I don't think he ever really much liked you, but I trust he's an honorable enough bastard to find you and give this to you without trying to tear your head off.

You're a good lad. You've got a good bit of power, and no matter what anyone says about you, you always tried to do your best with it while I knew you. And don't think that just because I'm dead, I'm not going to expect you to do exactly that, lad: use your power for good.

Because you know it's right. And because I'm a ghost now, and I'll bloody find you while you sleep if you don't.

Do good things, lad,

Ragnarr.

Ragnarr Letters: Chris

Chris,

I'm sorry I won't get to say a proper goodbye to you. I hope you're doing well on the planes, and tell your mother that I kept you alive and well as long as I could. You're getting to be a damn fine wizard, and whatever you do, I hope you use that for good.

Good luck, lad,

Ragnarr.

Ragnarr Letters: Ramona

Ramona,

If this has been delivered, lassie, it's because I'm dead. I expect you'll be pleased about that.

If you expect to see one more cent of what you say I owe you, well, the old dwarven phrase "over my dead body" comes to mind. Not that you'll even find my body.

It was lovely while it lasted, but if there's one peace I find in death it's that I'm far, far away from you.

Ragnarr

Ragnarr Letters: Arcadius

Arcadius,

If you're reading this, then it's probably worked. The seer's cast off, his plane's gone to shit, and you're on your way.

I'll not be seeing you again. Not in this life and not in the next.

We are all of us Pelor's chosen, and he's never asked a man to do more than he can. For some, he asks for only a wee bit of help every now and then. For some, he asks for their sacrifice, perhaps their lives.

But you and I, lad, we're not ordinary people. Pelor isn't some distant bastard we serve. We *are* Pelor, his arms and his mouth. When he wants his will done in the world, *we do do his will*, not the other way around.

It took me too damn long to realize that. I spent a long time in the planes, far from Pelor, I thought.

He was there. Because *I* was there, and where I go, Pelor goes with me.

His will is mine. And for giving him that, he lets me do a damn large bit of good in the world.

There's a trade off. For lads like us, for me and for you, he may ask us to give up even our souls, to walk so much in his light that we'd be willing to never look at it again.

If you're reading this, Pelor's asked that of me. And I'll go, with a smile on my face and peace in my damn head for once. Because I know, clearer than I've ever known, that I'm doing the will of Pelor.

Now I know that you'll be needing to move quickly against the Aboleth, now. But if you could spare a moment and have the wizard teleport you to at least deliver the one to my ex-wife (Ramona. Her name is Ramona), it would be very nice of you. The other letters to lads who aren't here can probably wait until things are done, if they need to.

This is your fight now, lad. Good luck.

Ragnarr