I am putting pen to parchment in order that my recollection on a grievous matter be recorded for posterity. This is not a vain glory attempt to exalt my past actions, for sadly I proved unequal to stopping the following events, but it is my fear that I may not live to extract revenge for myself and numerous innocent souls who met an unfortunate demise. Let this record stand as an eyewitness to the treachery that befell the Trident. The details that are coming back to me after my ordeal are disturbing enough, but the ramifications are truly stunning. I shall start this tale with my time aboard the Trident, a sturdy, seaworthy vessel several days out of Tholos. Wanting to stay active and above deck, I took to helping the sailors in the rigging, learning what they would teach me during quieter moments. Working the sheets during drills, and skylarking in the rigging during lulls. My sharp vision was appreciated in the crow's nest, and I enjoyed the quiet solitude of this post for meditation.

As the Trident approached the Veil, I was sent below with the other passengers and most of the crew leaving the Captain and his Specialists to negotiate the magic barrier. Whereas most of the crew gathered for a feast crowed in the galley, I found some solitude in the cargo hold, where I conducted exercise routines. I conducted an extremely vigorous set, spurred on by the magical energy coursing through the ship. As I winded down I felt the magical activity above deck settling down also. When the all clear was given, I went above deck and took a deep breath of the air on this far side of the Veil, now much closer to the Elf homeland. The crew was settling into a satisfied lull now that the hardest part of the journey lay behind them and back in the hold I settled into my nightly meditations.

I came to awareness that something was wrong. Whether it was an increased smell of dampness or a different sound to the water passing the shop's hull, I shall never know, but as my senses came to bear, I was unable to come to grips with what I was gazing at in the gloom of the hold. Toward the bow, there was a large sphere of inky blackness floating toward the stern. As it approached, the sphere bobbed side to side and wherever it passed...nothing remained! It passed through a large crate before touching the hull. A 2-3 foot diameter hole appeared in the hull. As water rushed through this gap, I realized there must be other holes further toward the bow and it was this inflow of the sea that brought me out of my meditation. As this globe of annihilation came closer I felt helpless, a feeling I was not comfortable with. The magical energy surrounding the sphere was intense, I could not fight the globe, but there must be a controlling priest or wizard nearby, and was determined to come to grips with this soon to be unfortunate soul. I grabbed my rucksack, bow and quiver, and gathered my javelins just as the sphere connected with the mast, passing completely through it. I was racing up the aft ladder as the unsupported mast tore itself free through the decks.

Racing through the crew deck and up to the night air, I passed no crew members, no navigators, nor fellow passengers. The falling mast had shattered amidships and the globe was likely still generating havoc below deck as the Trident developed a list to starboard that signaled the death knell for the Trident. Negotiating my way through the tangle of sails and ropes, I dove overboard, determined to clear the ship before she was pulled under and took me with her. It was then that I noticed the ship's boat, the Pinda, apparently adrift and empty. I pulled myself and my meager belongings into the boat just in time to look back and see the last of the Trident disappearing beneath the water's surface. It was then that I saw the red sails. A war galley was just beyond where the Trident had gone done. Its deck was lined with men leaning over the deck railing. Were these the Trident's assailants or was it as it seemed that they were searching for survivors? Wearily I leaned over the gunwale and tried to paddle closer using my arms as there were no paddles. As I contemplated raising a hail, I saw the deck hands spot a survivor. Closer now I could see the robed and hooded figures gesturing on the deck toward the location of the struggling sailor. Flashes of light like brilliant daggers lit up the night, originating from the hand of one of the robed figures and streaked toward the swimming sailor. I heard a startled cry as the swimmer slip beneath the waves. Realizing these robed figures were not typical sailors, but were instead magically endowed with evil intent, I slipped back into the water as quietly as possible. Grasping the rope line a silently swam away from the galley, towing the Pinda behind me, trying to put as much distance behind me before the moon might rise and reveal my predicament. It was only later as I took stock of the situation did I realize the further extent of the treachery. The Pinda's tow line had been cut with a knife, purposefully set adrift, and the few emergency supplies stowed on the boat had been removed, likely jettisoned along with the paddles.

I set these words to parchment that you who find it may know my tale and seek justice for us members of the Trident.

Jotork, Fian, Initiate of the Third Circle, Member of the Adventurer's Guild

It has been several days now, adrift on the ocean. The hunger I can deal with, and have dealt with in the past, but it is the thirst that will be my bane. This is not the death that I foresaw for myself during my training, this is not the death of a warrior...to die of thirst amid millions of gallons of water.