The Telus Chronicles

Adventures in Time 10-

Putting the human capital behind us brings a return the the road. We look to disguise ourselves as best we can but we definitely stand out. I’ve taken to keeping my hood up. Barnaby, however, will still stand out.

Barnaby isn’t about sharing the information he knows. I am worried he will lead to the failure of the team. He cannot be trusted and owes allegiance only to himself. Granted few in our unlikely band seem truly selfless. I worry our lack of cohesion will result in our untimely end and as a result the end of the world. I don’t care for the gods but I do care for the people of the world. All people, not just my own.

We sent Barnaby on his own into a city in turmoil. One only hopes he doesn’t end up burning it down. Though in the end little seemed to go wrong. I cannot say the same would have resulted if we had all gone within. There is a lot of suffering within the city, I can feel is emanating off the walls in waves. Sometimes having the gift of divination isn’t such a gift.

We joined up with our old nautical comrades. Perhaps the trip to the dwarven lands will pass as relatively smoothley as our beginning… I won’t hold my breath.

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Adventures in Time 9

I am proud that I was able to keep my disdain for this rather abrupt game called jousting to myself. If it wasn’t for the fact that there was at least one female competitor I’d say it was a game of male genital comparison. Though, based on the behavior of the female in question perhaps that is not too far off the case.

To be fair, all races and cultures have competitions and likely they are equally as silly to those cultures that aren’t familiar with them. Perhaps I am letting the taint of this game that coats this city and its people in a foul miasma corrupt my view of something relatively innocent. Then again I prefer my competitions to not put another in harm’s way.

Alberil did well, however. Though having seen how well he skewers things that get in his and Donovan’s path I am hardly surprised. I should have placed a bet on him. I would have had pretty good odds given how much of an unknown factor he is.

I had hoped to talk more with the half wild elves that were in the city. Find out why they were there and their thoughts upon this city and its denizens.

It seems there are not six, but perhaps seven beings that could be called gods. Or rather beings with powers so much greater than our own we call them gods. Chaos. A taint. An eldritch being. It seems our gnomish companion knew something of this. He was surprised by the assassins that attacked us, but not surprised enough. While I do not think he is complicit in this attack I do think he knows more about what is going on that he is letting on. We’ll have to ask how he knows so much about this matter.

We are fleeing the city after the attack. I’m not sure how people will know we were involved or that we were within that specific inn, but it is better to be safer than sorry. I am concerned that we have finally drawn the attention of that adversary I’d worried about. I suppose procuring the first of the six shards is what has brought it about.

When we first saw the vision of the world and the shards upon it, it seemed as if there were seven. Now there are six? Perhaps there is a seventh shard after all? Connected to this chaos? A disturbing thought.

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Journal of Alberil Valesk (2)
We have finally made headway towards completing our goal, the cairn has been found and despite the efforts of its inhabitants and perils we emerged victorious with our intended prize and quite the fortune alongside it.

On the journey to the cairn itself I felt more than my fair share of hesitation and objections and even before that during the incident in Tyrol I will admit I felt conflicted for reasons that upon recollection I now realize naïve and somewhat selfish. While I still hold my word and honor close to my heart the mission given to us must come first and to complete this task we cannot lose even one of our number without a heavy toll paid by our foe.

The things found in the tomb only further that notion that my views are skewed. The man behind the creation of it killed those involved, and within the first room of the sealed tomb we found a pack of ghouls. Traveling further into the cairn there were foul spirits tricking us into attacking one another, with shame I must confess I was the first to be fooled. The revelation that the king himself had become a foul shade in command of the ghouls erased what little trepidation about re-purposing the wealth and equipment we found within. I still pray we were justified given what we fight for.


Two days have passed since the last entry; our group having returned to Tyrol in the late afternoon two nights ago. We used the day before this one to sort out our issues with identification and solve any financial problems that might arise in the near future.

I write this on the morning of the Tourney in honor of the Duchess’s birthday, the company (We have termed our group The Donovan Company. I quite like it.) having been generous to allow me a day to participate in the joust. Sadly, I’ve been confined to the lowest bracket due to my lacking any sort of recognition or name, but this shall not deter or dishearten me and I shall treat my opponents with the respect due to them, overconfidence has been the bane of too many a knight. My caparison and tabard have been thoroughly cleaned and I am eager to joust once more, it has been too long since I’ve had the honor of facing a worthy opponent in a charge with nothing but the wind through my visor and the thunder of horse hooves. The viscous cracking as lances connect, the power of two warhorses concentrated into a pair of points driving into offending metal. I must busy myself before I lose my focus, perhaps go over my equipment and look over Donovan once more? I won’t allow myself to fight in Tyrol without ensuring Donovan and I look our best. I’m sure the opponents will be impressive individuals fit for a duel in the name of the duchess in Tyre’s capital, even if this will be the lowest bracket.


My Jousts have been concluded and they were as glorious as any I’ve had before, or at least the two of my opponents who put forth a good effort.
The first fight was most certainly my favorite, my opponent being a rather portly veteran who knew what he was doing and had a warhorse to match. If not for the man having let himself go I might’ve even lost. He must’ve been a terror in his prime.

The second was… disappointing to say the least. Altreyssa had made it clear she had done something to distract him and I was expecting him to at most lose a bit of his focus prior to the match, but he had the gall to look into the stands mid charge! He paid for the insult in full, and I saluted the stands (mostly towards Altreyssa to thank her) as is my right after such a clear victory. Apparently this was not to the man’s liking as he both insulted me and insisted I fight him on foot. I almost felt bad for beating him a single swing, but he barely even moved despite the time he had to prepare himself and still wasn’t satisfied after being beat twice. He brings shame to the word knight and I pray he learns something from the experience.

Lastly was a robust half-elf with a burly warhorse, and while she did seem angry for some reason or another (I suspect Barnaby) I was at my peak during that match. Her lance didn’t touch me and my blow launched her clear to her end of the arena, her lance shattered by my own. She at least had some dignity in her defeat, but any good will was lost when I had heard the sound of the clay of a false point shatter mid-charge. I suppose I still harbor no small measure of hatred from my brother lancing through my shoulder during my first joust, the cur.

I think this shall be all for today, I am still coming down from the high after my final victory and remembering Bertram’s offense has ruined my mood. I need to prepare for the after-event, and then we leave for the north in the morning.

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Adventures in Time 8

The crypt…such a strange place. Honestly I’m beginning to worry I’ll never understand humans as well as my people think they do. The entire crypt is such a waste. Banquet rooms and riches beyond compare. What need do the dead have for such resources. Such resources as we found could easily have fed all the destitute in a major city for many years. Hopefully our group will put it to good use.

Aine found a mechanical dragon, or spirit. It was a sarcastic creature and I don’t fully trust it, but perhaps it will prove a boon in the future.

The blood rites and traps and undead…quite disturbing. I mentioned all this in my previous journal entry but I have to make the point a second time. All this effort to guard the riches of a being that has no use for them. Even the ancient bow of elven origin. Was this the trophy of someone conquered by this king? I must admit to being quite curious as to its origins. If there is time I will have to seek the advice of a historian sage knowledgeable in my people. Regardless of all that it is one of the finest bows I have ever seen. It generates its own arrows, unbelievably useful and powerful.

Now we must decide upon our next course of action. The group seems bent upon traveling to the dwarves for our second shard. Honestly I can’t truly disagree with the course, though I’m not really sure as to why there is such ardent belief it has to be the dwarves next. In the end I am ambivalent, so I do not question the option much. Personally we could easily have made our next attempt in this great chasm. Purchasing the resources needed would be quite simple.

Safeguarding this fortune we find ourselves in possession of will prove quite difficult I think. We find ourselves once again in this cesspit of humanity. It keeps drawing us back like metal shavings to a load-stone. It is worrisome.

I just hope we can get back on the road soon. I feel our mission is more time critical than we all realize.

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Adventures in Time 7

I awoke to the clamoring of the Barnaby. He’s rather loud for such a small individual. I suppose I can’t judge him too harshly, however, it was for a good cause.

Altreyssa was let free… I have no idea why she was or how it was brought about. Honestly, if I think about it, it’s a little odd and suspicious. Then again I’m finding that humans are a lot more alien in their motivations and character than I had originally thought.

Of course now that we have the sister back, the brother, Morgan, disappears. I assume he thought he could effect some sort of rescue without the rest of us.

With friends like these, I find myself wondering who needs enemies. I imagine the Smith saw something in us, and indeed, I had thought we had the beginnings of a good team built prior to our shift in time. Perhaps it’s that disgusting corrupt city. Perhaps it’s tainted in some way that corrupts others. I am hoping now that we are away, things will be different.

We found Morgan skulking about the tavern in which we met the Raven. Thankfully with all of us back together again, we all seemed to agree on something wonderful. Get the abyss away from that city.

The journey wasn’t very eventful. Aine proved her worth in getting us into the crypt as it was warded by foul blood magics. Was this put upon the crypt by the humans!? Why? I’m beginning to wonder about this mission…

Barnaby was able to talk to the “engineer” that designed the crypt, I think it was. They killed him. Disgusting! Alberil seems honorable, if a little misguided, but I’m starting to wonder more and more about human society. They killed him to keep the place secret? It bears investigation.

We were beset upon by undead creatures. Perhaps this place has been desecrated and befouled by another force. That nemesis I have been thinking about perhaps? I can feel a foul force working against us. My diviner senses tell me something foul is afoot…

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Why does no one ever follow the *fucking* plan?
An introspection by Aine

Well. This has gone down the fucking tubes again. My situation has been roughly the same level of shit as a sewer after a bad pie, but, really? Let’s recapitulate. I graduate near the top of my class from the academy but no one wants to hire me because I’m an elf. I don’t have anywhere or anyone to go to, so I join the Goston Division. At least there was supposed to be food to eat and work to do. Since day 1, it was a shit show. Then, the Smith had to choose us for some “special mission” – it wasn’t particularly inconvenient, so I suppose it was fine. At least I had something to do. Then it turns out that the brothers aren’t brothers and the mute one isn’t mute. Ok, fine. At least we’re all on the same page.

After much turmoil, we finally get to civilization where we can get allies and information. Barnaby keeps running off and trying to steal shit – like that won’t draw undue attention at all. Let’s draw attention to ourselves while we have no idea what the situation is… So, then, Altreyssa gets arrested. It’s inconvenient, but it’s a minor charge. With a little finagling, we can get it explained away, she’ll be out, we’ll be on our way… But no, our one potential ally is insulted and threatened by Morgan who then threatens Alberil, who is putting the laws of a completely unknown society above our mission or party, into promising to practically commit suicide when we could just use our contact… But we avoid further confrontation and we have a plan.

Then, we wake up to find that Morgan has gone to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do. For all I know, it was hunting down our potential ally and murdering her… We find Altreyssa and she doesn’t say a damn thing but she does have papers for her and her brother, but no one else. We finally find Morgan and he’s got fake papers for him and his sister, but no one else.

So far, it’s more dangerous to be with these people than without. So far, I’ve got nothing to lose. They clearly care more about whatever the shit went on in their own little worlds hundreds of years in the future than they do about the Smith’s quest and they definitely don’t give a shit about the rest of us. I am pretty sure that I can’t trust them to put my life above saving themselves from a bad hair day. If I wasn’t the only one who can move the fucking rock to get in this tomb of evil, I wouldn’t have entered in the first place – I can’t trust them not to leave me to die.

I really don’t know why I stay… I wonder how hard baking is? At least it’s tasty. And it’s not like some random shaman can takeover. I think I’ll pickup a cookbook. Then, at least in a pinch, I’ll have some way to earn a living here. I think I’ll grab a book while I’m here. At least I’ll have something to read when they forget me somewhere… Maybe I should find a job…

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Journal of Alberil Valesk
entry 1

((I wrote way to much, I failed to make it shorter, and its all bad. read at own risk.))

I am conflicted.

For the first time on this quest from the smith I can truly claim to have felt this way for I am now unsure of a great many things I once trusted. I have retrieved this journal from my saddlebags in order to put these thoughts on paper so that I might get a second chance to think them over. Much has passed since my last entry and I have no idea how to explain those happenings so I shall skip those for now.

It began with a note that said to meet in a tavern called the three knights tavern, and the group decided to try and scout the place out ahead of time. The plan was for Jos and I to enter normally and get a look inside while Aine along with Barnaby looked around outside and the siblings took a look at the roof.

It started off well enough with Barnaby and Aine taking a look and passing along the information that the basement was covered in magic. At the time I didn’t pay much mind to it, we were probably meeting with a rather well established organization after and we were unlikely to actually enter the basement, and Jos and I proceeded to enter the tavern. We ordered a drink and chatted with the bartender, who seemed to know a lot about us and was quite obviously pressing for more. Sadly I remember little else due to the fact that I… passed out for lack of a better term. Supposedly the second drink I was given had something in it, or my liver must have been hit by a stray bear claw.

I awoke back in my room and feeling quite ill. Jos must have been able to get me back to the tavern. Apparently things had gone quite awry as not only had I passed out but Altreyssa was arrested under orders from the duchess herself for stealing the colors of another house, or was it the name? Either way she was in custody within the walls of the old town for something she was technically guilty for.

We had decided to go ahead with the meeting, though Morgan seemed rather… dark about it. In the time I was unconscious and we were waiting for the meeting the streets had seemingly emptied and on cursory inspection we were penned into the main road to the meeting with armed men on most roofs, all of which had their eyes on us.

Turns out the person we were meeting with was a part of some criminal organization, I believe the word songbirds was used, and she was offering to help us get Altreyssa back from the Duchess’s custody. That goal alone wasn’t fully agreeable to me, but I saw the need to Altreyssa back for the good of our mission. However, that was taken a step further when the only ways to free her that were discussed were to go further against everything I stand for. They wanted to break into the jail the she was being kept in, possibly injure or even kill guards and possibly an innocent bystander for a replacement body, and thus would be labeled as criminals under the eyes of the law. They wanted me to not only break the laws I swore to uphold and follow, injure the people I swore to protect, and go against the wishes of the ruler of Tyre who I swore to serve, but Jos and Barnaby both wanted me to break my all previously sworn oaths despite my stated opposition. Two of my trusted companions insisted I willingly toss away my honor, one of the few things I truly hold near and dear to my heart. Jos even went so far as to insult these ideals and state that the laws were unjust despite them being completely justifiable in any normal situation. In fact, Altreyssa was indeed breaking one in wearing the colors of one family and claiming to have the name of a different family.

Additionally, Morgan had taken a rather unsettling turn. Perhaps the siblings were more attached to one another than I had thought because he was seething on the way to the meeting with the songbird and it only got worse during. He might have been livid at the knowledge of his sister possibly but he seemed to understand my conviction to keeping my oath for he gave me a chance to preserve them through a trail by combat. He made me swear on my honor and on my name and I did indeed swear to protect his sister to the best of my ability. I am thankful for the chance provided to me but I am still somewhat doubtful of my chances to best whatever champion the duchess chooses and I am also dubious about Morgan’s state of mind.

I wish to save Morgan’s sister but If the group goes any further towards saving Altreyssa through subterfuge or murder I fear that I might have to make a choose I do not want to make. I do not want to turn friends to foes but it seems that is where the path seemingly leads.

It sounds like someone is at the door so I shall halt my rant.

Alberil Valesk.

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Mysterious Note
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A day in the life of Barnaby!

Barnaby sighed. His head ached, the spirits were restless, and he felt as if he had nothing to show for it. He clambered out of bed and performed his daily ritual, beckoning yet another trickster to his side before setting off with his allies into the market where his own spirits were quickly lifted with the purchase of a double layered, linen cloak; black with patches of dark gray to cover his approaches all the better. The blowguns and darts didn’t hurt either.

He set on with them, quickly disagreeing with them splitting up but to no surprise it happened nonetheless. He stood with Anya, sensing significant magical properites from the basement of this tavern. The siblings climbed high, to high for him to warn, and Alberil was slow, perfectly slow enough that Barnaby COULD warn him. Not that it would have mattered.

Within the hour, Alberil was passed out, drunk on the job while the seemingly bewildered Jos stood near, unable to carry her friend. Barnaby, assuredly to no ones surprise, saved the day and calmed the might beast that was the bartender only to fail at the last moment of his interrogation. The spirit that Barnaby had allowed to carry on said interrogation was quickly banished into what was hopefully the darkest regions of hell… Maybe he’ll meet Tim!

By nightfall Barnaby had met, evaluated, dismiss, and re-entertained the idea of helping this Robin. Morgan hated her with a fiery passion which was certain to be valuable but for now, Barnaby was thinking in the short term. Robin was a walking bank for Barnaby, and he was hellbent to allow her to expend all of her usefulness. After such a time, Morgan would know what to do with her.

By the end of their mutual conversation, By night’s end Aberil swore an oath, Morgan took a precarious turn down a path more to the gnome’s liking, and the rest unintentionally floated around the pair like so many boats lost to the infinite whirlpools, and Barnaby cloaked not only his intentions but his physical being as they returned to the inn.

“The group seems to enjoy this idea of righteousness, mutual prosperity, and other pristine though trivial ideals. Not a one in the group trusts me with much more than they absolutely have to, which is fair. I’ll need to keep an eye on Morgan, though. I like where his mind is going, but the decent may be too steep to monitor appropriately.”

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Adventures in Time 7

Everyone has those dreams. The trap our sleeping brain lays in which the floor gives way beneath you in painfully slow motion and you fall. So it is with our situation in this filthy city, only the nightmare is real. My instincts were to gather supplies and move onward with alacrity. Such did not come to pass.

These Songbirds are becoming a bother. First this Bluejay that sought to hand me a morally grey job. Though I sorely need the gold I’ll not sell my soul for it. Now we receive a note from someone calling themselves Robin. It turns out she’s more of a crow, in looks and heart; feasting upon the misfortunes of others. Songbirds is an ill name for this group, they are wraiths or perhaps stormcrows; harbingers of darkness and suffering. This “game” they play, where they can do whatever they wish as long as they aren’t caught doing so. Never has a game been designed such that no one will win in the end. The darkest pits of the gods await the souls of those playing this game.

The group decided to overcomplicate matters by making a three pronged approach to the designated meeting place. We truly should have just walked into the place bold as the sun, but I did not wish to be a voice of division within the group. In the end it would have turned out better. While Alberil was laid low by a poisoned draught given by the all too knowing bartender, Altreyssa was arrested for wearing false colors of a noble house. These humans govern what colors one can wear? (If ever I return to my own time I will investigate, if such is still the way things work I shall advice greater caution in our dealings with these people. Such a waste of life and potential.)

After a bumbling mess on all fronts (it turns out both Morgan and Barnaby were outplayed by the massive bartender) and I was aided by Captain Black (I shall have to commend him to his commanding officer if given the chance) in getting Alberil back to our inn. So even in the pits of this city some good still exists.

To say Morgan is distraught would be an understatement. He has gone dark in his mood and I fear he will lose his path to be forever tainted if we do not safeguard his hand and heart. I begin to wonder if his relationship with his sister is altogether healthy. For sure they have known hardships and I can only imagine holding tightly to one’s last kin. To be hunted due to an accident of birth; well such is the way of humans. They hold to family lines and blood over individual worth and accomplishment. Nobility isn’t born, it is earned.

We made our way to the meeting point, guards placed upon the roofs of all buildings. Was this a show of might? It seemed excessive for our group. Eventually we came upon this Robin. Apparently her patron is paying her a fortune to aid us. It has been insinuated that this patron is an ancestor of our brother and sister duo. It did seem odd that someone such as this Robin would aid us, but we have little proof of the veracity of her words. We could be pawns in this game.

Alberil and Aine refuse to aid in a rescue attempt not wishing to break the law. I am saddened but not surprised by Alberil’s clinging to a system of laws that bring no justice, but Aine’s truly caused my blood to grow cold. Seeing one of my people pay credence to such a tainted system, words cannot express my pity. I had wished to substitute Altreyssa’s body with a burned corpse to defame this Duchess and throw off pursuit. Barring that a simple rescue would have been good. We could stock up on invisibility spells and move stealthily. In the end we are forced into playing this game by going through with a farce of a trial, for the color of a cloak and a false name.

Perhaps there is a play here, however. Do Robin and this Bluejay work in concert? What if I was to ensure this manuscript saw the light of day instead of being stifled. Would such an event bring harm to the game? Would it bring to light the truth? Would those oppressed by the powers of this city, were they to know the truth, rise up? Would it be right to alter history so? In my opinion, yes.

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