Wooden Point. No time to write a proper log, the waters are choppy and my ink pot threatens to spill with every swell of the waves. So just the basics, then.
Ocean’s Damnation in port when we docked. Tobias the Widowmaker is in town – I do hope he stays on his side of the fence, I’d hate to deprive him of all his crew. He fancies himself my rival, but to be true he is nothing more than an up-jumped rat playing amongst the lions.
Linaelus Auve – a scholar of sorts, one who studies fey – is easy to find. After we retired to his home he informs me of the recent developments within the city, namely that one Goann Risio – the town ruffian, I gather – is behind a hunt on the “monster in the woods.” This is bad news. He needed to be eliminated.
A brief meeting between myself, the Magister, and Mr. Corsair took place aboard the Arrogance, where we decided to take Risio into custody. We’d put the sword to him and find out what he knew about the dryad he hunted. At this point Mr. Corsair requested aid from the Magister with some documents he needed drawn up for a ship. Something about marks from the kingdom for the rebels on East Farhold so our trip over there would be smooth. I admit that I find myself mildly perturbed that he did not bother consulting me about this – I’ll need to speak to him later.
We arrived back in town just in time to see a mob forming up to hunt the dryad. Corsair distracted the men while the Magister and I tracked her through the forest, eventually stumbling across Isan’s Rock, an incredibly magical place. We found a young girl that was searching for the dryad as well; she mentioned a flower but did not extrapolate. We returned to the ship for the evening and were back to Isan’s Rock by sunup.
This was where the magic happened; this is what I had been waiting for. A dark cloud descended upon us as the sun rose, and when it came close enough we could see that the cloud was hundreds – thousands – of butterflies flying together in formation. They alighted on the rocks of the monument and one was so bold as to crawl over my shoulder and neck. We all heard the dryad’s laughter in the air, but none of us saw her. When the butterflies cleared we saw a seed, and it bloomed as soon as I plucked it from the earth into a beautiful red, orange, and green flower, the likes of which I’ve never seen before. The girl told me it was the dryad’s calling card; she had been given a similar one some two years ago.
I cannot begin to find the words for what happened next. As I mediated between the stones of Isan’s Rock I felt a presence within my mind. I knew it was the dryad. I will not transcribe the events that followed, only to say that it was nothing like anything I’d experienced before. I did receive the information I wanted.
And now, out at sea on my way to East Farhold, I am struck by an idea. It has occurred to me that the men I am bringing with me – the majority of whom are pirates – are more suited to a life at sea than on land. If we are to conquer these unknown lands in the name of the king – or, more aptly, in the name of Tamatyrus Dremal – we will need men who are familiar with navigating across strange lands. It is definitely something worth looking into.