5th Meadow, 802

We are aboard the Comfrey, a small sloop type vessel owned by an acquaintance of Lia's, a gentleman called Eorick. He is less a pirate than a businessman, and seems relatively trustworthy, although with foes behind and before us, it is rather hard to trust anyoneÉ The crew are mostly poor and lower class sorts, hard working and good at what they do. The captain is very much in charge, and they seem to respect his authority. They are a surly lot, a mix of men, half-orcs, and some of a lineage I could only guess at. Stephen has found that they are happiest when he plays sea shanties and have no patience with Ardanian or elvish tunes. So much the worse for us. We are sailing S by SW on our way to Freeport. We had dinner this evening with Fara, she has been quiet since we came aboard, mostly labouring over a small leather-bound journal. We took the opportunity to ask her a bit more about the Angelican faith, since it seems certain that we must pose as pilgrims of the faith for a while longer. There are a number of branches of the faith,

The order of Michael seems to be the most militant, the least willing to accept magic, as they feel that it is too easy, the "luxurious" route, they call it. Michael is usually portrayed as a warrior in plate mail, riding a Pegasus or winged himself. His followers symbol is a single downward pointing sword.

The order of Raphael (to which Fara belongs) can be recognized by the shepherd's crook symbol. They wear green and are usually found out in the frontiers, rounding up "lost sheep". I'm guessing that this is one reason they are more flexible about the practice of magic.

The followers of Uriel are enigmatic, a small but strong faction, about which little is known. They wear purple and can be recognized by the scales symbol. Uriel is portrayed as a dark haired human or elvin woman.

Gabrielites wear blue robes and their device is a heraldic trumpet.Gabriel is portrayed as a dazzling human male or a female elf. The order is fairly rational about magic, but do not actively promote it.

The Sammaelites are a fairly new pro-magic order. They are a small group, not widely accepted, and are ignored by the Michaelines. They are found on the far fringes of civilization and in the big cities and wear red robes and a device of an upraised sword.

The Wind Shrine in Bliss is open to all seekers and is from Fara's description, incredibly beautiful. I asked her what the Angelican's view of the Ardanian church was, and her reply was that it was an off shoot of the Angelican church, formed by a group of single minded true believers. As they became increasingly isolated, they drew farther away from the Angelican teachings, and now believe that the creator made only a few perfect souls (Ardanian, of course), who were able to understand their perfection. The Angelican's tend to believe that magic is a gift from God and respect any religion that promotes personal responsibility. The difference between the Druid's and the Angelican's seems mainly to be the focus. The druid's believe all things are equally important, while the Angelican's tend to focus on the human aspects of existence. According to Raven, the Lammasu was a great and powerful spirit.Blackhawk asked Raven how the Lammasu fit into the Druidic belief system and she told him to meditate on it.

6th Meadow, 802

The sun rose, exposing occasional patches of islands, no more than rocky outcroppings in the water, but a sure indication that we were nearing Freeport.

These are the north central part of the isles, the farthest most anyone ever comes. Freeport is relatively flat, no large mountains to speak of and the green areas appear to be irrigated rather than naturally occurring. The land is brown for the most part and seems to get little rain fall. The preponderance of wildlife that we saw on the other islands does not seem to be present here, but the place is absolutely seething with pirates and brigands. They are kept in check by some very powerful overlords who keep the place relatively crime free. The harbor is on the east side of the island, an inverted U shape marked by an enormous structure that Eorick says is a lighthouse. The Freeport founding fathers seem to believe that people will flock to see this building. They have been working on it for 25 years and despite the huge taxes the pirates pay here, the project is vastly over budget É The dock is the biggest I've ever seen, 20 piers! There are many small fast craft, sloops, etc., and a few large ships, but fortunately none with red sails.

Lia paid Eorick the remainder of his fee. She also made a promise to buy something from him at a future date. We debarked from the ship, following Fara and looking appropriately like a troop of pilgrims. Lia took us to a tavern called the Drunken Lamb that had rooms to let upstairs. She knew the proprietress well, for the woman had sheltered her when she was making her escape from the pirates. Lana, plump and matronly greeted Lia warmly from behind the bar, and the two of them began to chatter animatedly in Gaelic. It was obvious that the two of them were close friends. It was quickly arranged that we would rent rooms from her at a reasonable price. We were warned to stay away from such places as the Gassy Gnoll, The International House of Long Pork, Socrates Bar and Pub, The Gelded Ranger, (I saw Blackhawk shudder at this oneÉ) the Scapegoat, Caveat Emptor Parasite Palace, the Slaughtered Lamb, the House of Straud, the Bowels of Vechna (oh, dear.) the Unfortunate Stain, the Inn Definitely Not Run By Doppelgangers, The Illusionary Floor Inn (aka the Dew Drop Inn) and a place called Cheers (where every body knows your alias). An interesting place and make no mistake. The attire here is odd as well, many people wear veils, and quite a few wear armour that seems to be more decorative than functional. It is warm here, and the clothing reflects that. It is made of lighter fabric and the designs tend to be loose and sometimes scanty.

The party split up for a while, the ladies and I retired upstairs to bathe, and Stephen, Blackhawk and Jotork stayed downstairs, hoping to gather information. Blackhawk overheard a man discussing how high taxes were, but the folk here seem to be especially sensitive to eavesdroppers, for he stopped suddenly and looked at Blackhawk. Lia and Fara both had contacts to make, so the Winged Foxes went exploring. Raven went into a pipe shop, where she found a long pipe her people call a peace pipe, It is carved with intertwined horses, too simple to be Celtic. It is decorated with an eagle feather and apparently was retrieved by someone named Garrick from a shipwreck. She bought it along with another nicely carved pipe and some mild Western Island Blend, a tobacco popular in these parts. Stephen went to buy some new boots, and found a talented old boot maker who whipped up some soft leather boots with a dagger sheath built in for 23 gold. Stephen seems very happy with them. Blackhawk found a beautiful set of throwing daggers at the dagger shop next door to the odd used bookstore where the party ended up. The store was packed to the brim with old books, many moldy and water damaged. The gnomish proprietor said most of the books came from shipwrecks, abandoned wizard's towers and such. There didn't seem to be a single book in common, most were Elvish or Dwarvish. I found a journal made of some kind of green hide, with an eye in the cover. It was a journal, written entirely in draconic. I was momentarily tempted to buy it, but it really was quite uninspiring. Stephen found a book of dwarvish make, bound with an elaborate clockwork device. It is very beautifully made, leather bound with an ornate metal frame, complex geographic grooves and spirals, with a hint of Celtic influence. The characters on the cover looked to be dwarvish as well, but the characters didn't match any that Stephen knows. (He ultimately bought it, with funds from Jotork, to what end, we shall see. I only hope it doesn't go boom when he finally opens it.) Jotork himself bought a volume of elvish poetry, made partly illegible by mold. I looked at some magick texts, way beyond my current budget, and it's probably just as well, since many of the volumes are probably cursed.

Once back at the Drunken Lamb, we rejoined Fara and Lia. Lia had excellent news, she was able to book passage to Bliss. The ship leaves in two days. Fara had disturbing news. A red sailed ship was seen here about a week ago. It didn't stay long, the crew just got supplies and left, sailing quickly to the north. We assume that it sailed here after the storm to avoid the daggers. After a supper of fried fish and cabbage, we retired. My lady must have missed me.

The company once again shared a dream. In it, we were dressed in Ardanian garb, running through the countryside. It seemed very familiar, home like, but there is a sense of something gaining on us. We didn't even want to turn to look behind us for fear of the pursuers getting the upper hand. We all awoke, sweating, breathless and terrified.

Upon awakening, Raven was startled to see a great horned owl at the foot of her bed. She said it looked at her with compassion and then flew out the window. Jotork saw nothing but an open window, so whether the owl was real or a vision, we may never know.

After awakening with a feeling of dread, all of us began to hear a keening wail. It seemed to be coming from everywhere, all around us. It generated a palpable fear that drove us out of our rooms and to seek solace with each other. After a few seconds, the wailing faded, and was replaced by a muffled sobbing. There was a stirring in the inn as everyone awoke to the sobbing. Blackhawk went to seek sister Fara's assistance and was told by her paladin guard that things were most definitely not all right and that she would join us shortly. Raven addressed Carlotta's whistle, thinking it might be related to her, but the sobbing continued. Blackhawk tried to speak with the source of the crying, but without effect. He took out his new daggers, but neither he nor Raven felt anything amiss. Blackhawk left the inn and found that the sobbing faded and disappeared as he left the vicinity. Raven held the pipe she had purchased, but felt nothing but a sense of familiarity. About that time, Lana came in. She was rather distraught as the sobbing was causing people to leave the inn at an alarming rate. She asked Lia if we knew what might be causing the problem, but Lia feigned ignorance. Jotork gave Raven the book he had purchased, wondering if it might be involved, but Raven said that while the book felt old and "potent" but there seemed to her to be no connection with the crying. Stephen asked Raven if her father had ever told her why he left the isles in such a hurry. Raven related a dream Uncle Max had about sailing to Turlough, but it really didn't seem connected to the owl. Fara came in. (It was the first time I ever saw her with her hair down. What a glorious sight!) She was very upset, and could tell us nothing about the wailing. She did say she thought our dream was connected to the others we've had recently. I thought it interesting that Lia shared this one as well. After a bit of discussion, it came to all of us that this could be a portent of the death of Max or another member of his company, since we guessed it could be Carlotta's voice we heard crying, but then the possibility that it was a warning that one of the Winged Foxes might die soon was mentioned and I fear it nearly did me in. (Since this is the company log and not my journal, I won't elaborate here, but suffice to say that the loss of any of us is a loss I'm not sure I could bearÉ) All of us were quite shaken by the evening's events. Blackhawk and Raven shared her pipe and were calmed. An interesting note, the smoke rose, but instead of pooling, it seemed to vanish in mid-air, as though it were being drawn in by unseen lipsÉ

Respectfully submitted by Maxfield Jaden Fox