A Trois

Gurgle – Farmer, Sailor, Carpenter, Spy

When I stepped aboard the Shield of Light the first time, I stated I was a carpenter, thinking that my whittling skill, well trained though it was, would be enough to get by. When the Nameless-one came up to me like the very incarnation of death I thought the jig was up. Any second and I expected him to cut me in twain with his Scythe.Instead my worst fears were about to be realized: they needed carpenters. I cannot even here share with my journal what it is that the Nameless-one wanted me to do, but I can say I believe that I excelled at it. The wood peeled away under my gentle ministrations and bit by bit forms appeared from under the fleeting shell.It wasn’t all smooth sailing to Seaholm. We had two days of heavy rain which were alleviated some by the aid of Silent Dream and his Weather Staff. The second day of stormy weather ended with a brief exchange of flags with a flotilla of Wolfen. The wolfen weren’t very good conversationalists so we decided to leave before things became too heated under the cover of the Nameless-one’s fog cloud. We let General Tinor know about the rebels, as so they seemed to CrIsis, and he let us know that they would be taken care of.

Seaholm was dingier than I expected.

Flooied – Prince of Trolls

I can’t believe that I am here in the wolfen territory. How small and almost organized it seems. Nothing like the jungle home of my people. I find myself following an uncouth and barely sentient human in order to remain incognito.

In order to best distract from my presence, which is still immense cloaked as I am, I hired a couple of fools at the most recent port. I call them Thing 1 and Thing 2 (or is that Thing 2 and Thing 1? They are both small and would be great with garlic butter, but I never learned their names) and they are quite distracting. My accountant is becoming a bit uppity and I may have to gently remind him of the fate of my previous accountant.

Instead of joining the teeming masses in the tavern cum inn, we visited the standalone inn. It was a shabby establishment, with a proprietor who was barely more than a criminal of the basest sort. Not only that, but he was a fool. He let us into our rooms without paying. We could have as easily left without paying, but being an honorable sort, I sent my Accountant down to resolve the problem.

My spy-master and Thing 2 decided to head off onto the roofs of Seaholm while the body double decided to lend Thing 1 out to the Inn. It made us back 66 gold of our lodging, so I truly can’t complain.

My Spy-Master was shot at by an overzealous city guard, which brought us to their attention. As we were leaving early on our journey, the guard stopped us as we were leaving the city. I revealed myself to these lesser beings, even as I considered all the ways I could flay their corpses, and the proper vegetables to serve Wolfen with. My final choice was potatoes and carots, lightly sauteed in brown butter and thyme. I’d then wet-grill broccoli with salt over a chicory flame. Mix it together with a nice light balsamic and serve it with the rare Wolfen steaks.

As war is my business, blaming Tinor for my presence sounded the best option. The Wolfen commander took the bait hook line and sinker. I can see my people feasting well on wolfen over the next couple of years. We exited their town shortly after on our way to Avramstown to further the cause of war.


Finally shedding the skin of my last persona, I allowed myself to breathe for the first time in a week. I’m not personally sure if anything I’ve done has truly shaken the eyes of the dark, but it was fun in a weird way to pretend to be so many different individuals for a time.

I’m sure that Gurgle and Flooied will appear in a future book of CrIsis, so I can only use those personas for about three months, or so, before I will have to permanently retire them. (Note to editor, if you publish this faster than that, please let me know. Would hate to be caught with my pants down accidentally.)

We made our way through the mountain pass on phantom steeds, making the normally week long journey in two days. We met both Tinor and Avramson in town, and let them know how much we might have screwed them over, again. We need to get back to the CrIsis Friends of Avramstown of the past and away from CrIsis Bane of All Existence that we seem to have become.

We left Avramstown as quietly as we entered, having barely taken time to meet with the King and Tinor and head in search of the January Magic Tribe, who now seem to be lost.

Image from arteregaloshop.it


6 Responses to “A Trois

  • Great log from the persona of the chamberlain and his point of view.

  • Much easier to follow than the last one. I like it.

  • I for one will miss Gurgle.
    Don’t worry, Rambler edits out or completely omits the pseudonym logs to help protect CrIsis

  • I enjoyed all three perspectives. Even more importantly, that sounds like a delicious recipe.

  • “We need to get back to the CrIsis Friends of Avramstown of the past and away from CrIsis Bane of All Existence that we seem to have become.” Yeah that’s one tough road to follow, but it must be followed.

  • “I find myself following an uncouth and barely sentient human” You mean a Grizzly Toothed & Bearly Sentient Human.

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