The Postulations, Musings, and Observations of R. Liadon
Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2005 12:41 am
*written in a smudged, hastily penned Draconic*<br>
<br>
I, Rhistel Liadon, in the interests of furhtering the knowledge of the civilized races *scratch out* peoples of these lands of Faerun, hereby set down in writing the affairs, activities, and interactions and investigations of the *squeezed in before 'author'* hertoforementioned author in this journal.<br>
<br>
This account begins on the morn of my departure from Aglarond. Though the community of half-elves which form that independent state were courteous enough to another of like ancestry such as myself, I did not find that land to be the <br>
<br>
haven which I had previously envisioned. It was a place more of comfort and less of academia. And yet, like the hidden forest abodes of my father's kin, it did not provide me with the intellectual stimulation I have long sought. <br>
<br>
Let me digress a moment in order that these introductory passages might better illustrate why I have relocated twice in <br>
my young life. I admired the feats of my father's kin: druids and rangers of Silvanus, able to call on the support of <br>
the animals or to command the very foliage *scratch out* fauna of the forest when need surfaced. It must have been a <br>
magnificent sense of security for those druids: never alone, never abandoned, so long as their spells lasted. I was enthralled with their magics. Yet--and I hope that future perusers of this text might not see its author as sacreligious--I was not what one might call a pious individual. I did not look with favor on relying upon the whims of a deity to accomplish great things.<br>
<br>
As the insightful reader has no doubt surmised, I began dabbling in things arcane. As I have mentioned much of the Art practiced in my homeland was of the Divine variety, so there was precious little I could gain from my family and their <br>
associates. And yet, being of multiple *scratched out* mixed parentage as I was, I had little in the way of friendship or camraderie. Thus, I had made my way to Aglarond, the land of half-elves, hoping for collegiality and the prospect of scholarship among those who shared my legacy.<br>
<br>
I spent two years there, and yet it was but the first few months in that land that had the greatest impact. A mage there of middling skill--his name, I am ashamed to disclose, has been replaced in my memory with more pertinent bits of <br>
lore--showed me the passes, phrases and components necessary to conjure a small sphere of deadly acid--from nothing at all! Imagine! The power to forge a thing from nothing! It is a paradox in itself: a thing from no thing. To create! An exquisite notion! This prospect seduced me. And, as penned elsehwere, being a man of little faith in things divine, I had no scruples against what some would deem the "godlike" notion of creation. That, in addition to the summoning spells which I saw so frequenlty among my woodland youth, have led me to focuse my time, my energy, and each shred of currency I can obtain to learning in the College of Conjuration. <br>
<br>
However, my growth became stunted in Aglarond. The mage *added above the current line* of the forgotten name *end add-in* was no Conjurer and had little desire to learn more on my accord. So, I left Aglarond because the vast majority of the arcanists their followed the Simbul *scratched out 'Simbul'* that land's sorcerer queen and focused their studies in the evocatory and transmutory colleges. I have littel interest in such magics. Indeed, I have eschewed the school of transmutation altoegether: Why merely shape the world that you can see when you can bring something wholly new into it?<br>
<br>
Thus, I am leaving the half-elven cities and making my way to this land known as the Vast. I do not know how long my stay there shall be. <br>
<br>
When there is nothing more to learn, I will take my leave.
<p></p><i></i>
<br>
I, Rhistel Liadon, in the interests of furhtering the knowledge of the civilized races *scratch out* peoples of these lands of Faerun, hereby set down in writing the affairs, activities, and interactions and investigations of the *squeezed in before 'author'* hertoforementioned author in this journal.<br>
<br>
This account begins on the morn of my departure from Aglarond. Though the community of half-elves which form that independent state were courteous enough to another of like ancestry such as myself, I did not find that land to be the <br>
<br>
haven which I had previously envisioned. It was a place more of comfort and less of academia. And yet, like the hidden forest abodes of my father's kin, it did not provide me with the intellectual stimulation I have long sought. <br>
<br>
Let me digress a moment in order that these introductory passages might better illustrate why I have relocated twice in <br>
my young life. I admired the feats of my father's kin: druids and rangers of Silvanus, able to call on the support of <br>
the animals or to command the very foliage *scratch out* fauna of the forest when need surfaced. It must have been a <br>
magnificent sense of security for those druids: never alone, never abandoned, so long as their spells lasted. I was enthralled with their magics. Yet--and I hope that future perusers of this text might not see its author as sacreligious--I was not what one might call a pious individual. I did not look with favor on relying upon the whims of a deity to accomplish great things.<br>
<br>
As the insightful reader has no doubt surmised, I began dabbling in things arcane. As I have mentioned much of the Art practiced in my homeland was of the Divine variety, so there was precious little I could gain from my family and their <br>
associates. And yet, being of multiple *scratched out* mixed parentage as I was, I had little in the way of friendship or camraderie. Thus, I had made my way to Aglarond, the land of half-elves, hoping for collegiality and the prospect of scholarship among those who shared my legacy.<br>
<br>
I spent two years there, and yet it was but the first few months in that land that had the greatest impact. A mage there of middling skill--his name, I am ashamed to disclose, has been replaced in my memory with more pertinent bits of <br>
lore--showed me the passes, phrases and components necessary to conjure a small sphere of deadly acid--from nothing at all! Imagine! The power to forge a thing from nothing! It is a paradox in itself: a thing from no thing. To create! An exquisite notion! This prospect seduced me. And, as penned elsehwere, being a man of little faith in things divine, I had no scruples against what some would deem the "godlike" notion of creation. That, in addition to the summoning spells which I saw so frequenlty among my woodland youth, have led me to focuse my time, my energy, and each shred of currency I can obtain to learning in the College of Conjuration. <br>
<br>
However, my growth became stunted in Aglarond. The mage *added above the current line* of the forgotten name *end add-in* was no Conjurer and had little desire to learn more on my accord. So, I left Aglarond because the vast majority of the arcanists their followed the Simbul *scratched out 'Simbul'* that land's sorcerer queen and focused their studies in the evocatory and transmutory colleges. I have littel interest in such magics. Indeed, I have eschewed the school of transmutation altoegether: Why merely shape the world that you can see when you can bring something wholly new into it?<br>
<br>
Thus, I am leaving the half-elven cities and making my way to this land known as the Vast. I do not know how long my stay there shall be. <br>
<br>
When there is nothing more to learn, I will take my leave.
<p></p><i></i>