Pharast 12, 4707
I find no small discomfort in sailing. The lack of ground beneath my feet is unsettling, as is the awareness of unknown depths below you unseen and unheard. Beasts of the dark lurking in wait for a shadow to pass above. It is not fear I harbor but an annoyance, an inconvenience. I know the waters and lakes of the wilds do not hold friends to us, I know that danger will show its head (or heads, as it were). It is simply the knowing that it will catch us in a moment of weakness, one which we have willingly placed ourselves, that irks me.
But I do not doubt our ability, and our mission is clear and necessary. The island of Candlemere is little more than a stone’s throw from the Ironhold, and we would be foolish to leave our lands, and the possible threats therein, unknown to us. Looking back now, perhaps ignorance is truly bliss.
As we arrived on the rocky shore of the small island, we were greeted by an extreme tangle of thorny overgrowth that seemed to have swallowed the place whole. In the distance we could see the ruins of the ancient tower fo Candlemere, and the ghostly flickers of light that illuminated it. Sir Thorne and I slowly hacked our way through the brambles for hours before we had cleared a path to the darkened ruin.
We arrived at a ruined tower, crumbed almost entirely to rubble after centuries of abandonment. Surveying the ruins, we found the remaining walls covered with strange markings in a language even Daeron could not understand. Suddenly, Gazl began convulsing and shouting strange things, as if possessed by an evil spirit. But before we could attend to him we came under attack by ghostly wisps.
While the strange creatures where seemingly made of light – they certainly didn’t enjoy being hit by swords. Though the were dastardly fast and Sir Thorne and myself had our hands full dealing with them as they assaulted us from all directions. Gazl remained incoherent throughout, which was not exactly the perfect timing. After being brutalized a bit severely, we were finally able to send the flickering lights back to whence they came.
Searching the ruins we found a strange ceremonial dagger, and eventually, under a large amount of rubble, a solid metal chest. We approached the box curiously and cautiously, wary of any magic that might be afoot with such a strangely built container. However, when I asked Daeron to detect any magical auras, he described that magically it was almost as if the box did not even exist. Carefully we open the chest, the lock having had corroded away ages ago. Inside was a faintly glowing glass orb.
Daeron immediately noted that the orb itself radiated magic intensely. Daeron deduced the chest must be made of solid lead, which was why it seemed to be an area of complete absence of magic. Daeron, in his curiosity, proceeded to approach the orb touch it. He only held it for a brief moment. But when he released his grasp he described a vision that he had experienced upon touching the orb. He had been flying high above the tower, and they far out to the west, to a city of ghosts, and finally to a lonk monk sitting in the top of a tower, with an identical glass orb.
We concurred that this may in fact be a seeing stone, connected to a twin, and that if we were able to view other places through it, then others may be able to view us. We decided it best to keep the orb concealed within the lead chest to prevent any scrying, as Daeron referred to it, but we also knew this was an artifact that we must bring back to Ironhold. The only catch was that the chest itself weighed over 300 pounds. Sir Thorne and I resigned to carrying it trudgingly through the brambles.
But the island of Candlemere was apparently not about to let us escape so easily. While on our way back to the boat, taking an exceedingly long while due to the heavy box, we came across a gang of unassuming blue lizards in the path we had forged. Placing the box down I eyed them curiously, having not seen lizards quite of their ilk before. But Daeron grew quickly apprehensive, and screamed out “DUCK” just in time as the lizards crackled with electricity and sent suddenly bolts of immense energy our way. Apparently we had been followed by a pack of bloodthirsty lightning-wielding iguanas.
There was not much time to react. Sir Thorne and Daeron all were hit with the brunt of multiple electric attacks, along with our faithful companions Bones and Noble Steed. In the chaos I didn’t know what was happening, I called to the spirits of the earth and the trees that I had grown up with, and felt them coming to my aid as the brambles around came to life and entangled the lizards in their thorny grasp. It was all could do to slap the still incoherent Gazl out of his delusions enough for him to call to his god for aid. The ensuing positive energy was just enough to get Daeron and Sir Thorne back on their feet, and we fled the scene as fast as we could. In a heroic effort, Sir Thorne was even able to shoulder the lead box and make haste to the Swan boat on the shore.
I was stricken with anger and grief as I realized we had reached the boat without Bones, and also Sir Thorne’s Noble Steed. I drew my sword to rush back for them, but I found Sir Thorne suddenly grasping my collar, pulling me aboard the ship as Daeron pushed us off from the shore.
No, we are going back…
May Erastil Be Merciful,