The Lost Journals

[High Priest Mikhal]

(Excerpts from the journals of Alexander Dreamfire, Viktal, Tepest, June 30, 741 BC)
Research into my "condition" has stalled as I've exhausted all known records from the Core and even a few domains lost in the Mists. What scant few references I could find to beings who had any sort of effect on reality as I and Maxine do turned out to be tall tales, ascended beings of pure heart, or even hags in at least two cases. Granted there are collections of knowledge even I can't access for various reasons. But not even the storehouses the Fraternity of Shadows uses to hoard information and artifacts have been any real help. Reportedly there is one place that might have more. The only problem is it's inaccessible to everyone: the Shadow Rift. If the tales of Arak are true, there's an entire fey kingdom hidden under the roiling black fog. Certainly the existence of the so-called shadow fey does support this notion. Only I've no clue how they escape into the surface world if true. What few times I did encounter a shadow fey they weren't in the mood to answer my questions; two "redcaps" I had to "destroy" as much as anyone can destroy a fey creature, while the "carrot-tops" I met were simply too engrossed in maintaining a small grove since I didn't have any unique plant samples to give them.

I did come to an interesting conclusion while testing the stories of the Tepestani who tried scaling the walls of the Rift. In each they reported themselves and others becoming "less real" the further they descended; my own attempts using my armor to fly down showed no adverse effects on me. I surmise this is because the Rift is in reality a domain like Barovia or Mordent and there is a darklord at its heart that has "closed" its borders. If true, this means I can enter freely thanks to my reality disruption. Further testing this very day further confirmed my suspicions as I was able to fly over a mile downward and not once experience any side effects. Other than the realization the Rift is far, far deeper than anyone suspects. I suspect even with the ring on my left hand I could fall for hours and still not come close to the bottom. The black fog that blankets the surface is thick enough that even sunlight is completely blocked a couple hundred feet down. Whatever is at the bottom is completely cut off from the rest of the Core.

I'm not crazy enough to just jump in and hope for the best, so I've also spent some time gathering what Arakan legends I could to try and find out more. The only thing of note are tales of the "temporal dilation" that miners encountered the deeper they went. That's actually a good sign because identical features are found in faerie realms throughout the multiverse. It supports the idea that the shadow fey really do have an entire kingdom at the bottom. I know it's a long shot that they have any information I'm looking for, but I'm growing desperate to find answers. What is happening to me and what might happen terrifies me on a level no creature or individual could. Especially when I've had objects slip through my flesh in four different instances in the past month. Each time it happened, I seemed to have lost corporeality momentarily. Just like when I begin seeing beyond the Near Ethereal, I had to "flex" something to bring myself back to reality. Not-so-strangely, objects I've anointed with my blood to protect them from my reality disruption I could still touch and handle even while I was immaterial. Perhaps these things are related?

Again, so many questions, no real answers.

(Excerpts from the journals of Alexander Dreamfire, Malachite Palace, Shadow Rift, ??, ??)
It's been a crazy few weeks (?) since I last wrote. When I exhausted all possible sources of information, I finally made the decision to take the leap--so to speak--and enter the Shadow Rift. Which was literally me flying out far from the walls and letting myself fall inside. According to my enchanted watch I fell for a little over eight hours before the ground appeared in the distance. Immediately I noticed what looked like a perfectly straight divide between grassy green land and barren stony terrain. Literally you could step over an invisible line separating the two, the divide was that abrupt. As soon as I touched the ground I took stock of the rest of my surroundings, spotting what looked like a tomb cut into the rock wall of the Rift. I didn't have much time to take things in before I was accosted by the undead, mainly zombies but a few I recognized as the worm-infested spawn of Kyuss. It didn't even take me a few seconds to slaughter them all and then be attacked by massive nightcrawler, something that required more strategic thinking but still wasn't too difficult for me to face alone.

Within moments of slaying the creature, I was approached by a being with the body of a man and the head of a donkey. He introduced himself as Alrax and asked what I was doing there. When I said I'd come from the surface he seemed surprised and said I clearly wasn't a lee-due, or mortal, but I clearly wasn't Arak, either. Given my "history" with a nymph when I first began adventuring, fey creatures have ever since seen me as fey as well. But the way he said Arak ("shadow fey") made it clear that I was something different in his experience. My prior experiences in fey etiquette proved useful here as I immediately knew how not to respond and simply asked where I could find the nearest library. He agreed to aid me if I beat him in a drinking contest or a wrestling match. Given my allergy to alcohol, I had to wrestle him. This creature was far stronger than he looked but was still outmatched and was as good as his word when he directed me to the Malachite Palace. To that I just nodded and left, knowing better than to say "thank you."

In truth the Palace was several miles away and I had to fly there. Immediately upon arrival I was swarmed by fey who were equal parts curious and cautious. The fact I was literally glowing with light made a few uncomfortable, though Alrax hadn't seemed put off by it. As I was answering questions from what I took to be guards, a tall woman with silvery hair and wearing white silk clothes came out from the Palace. The rest immediately stopped everything and bowed courteously, something I quickly did as well. When she came up to me and began talking, I realized this must be their ruler. She introduced herself as Maeve and asked me who I was and what I was doing there. My answers seemed to intrigue her because she asked me to come with her inside the Malachite Palace so we could talk in more comfortable surroundings. I just obeyed and what followed was several hours of conversation, mainly her asking me all about who and what I was even as she explained to me what she and her people were. What I learned in that time was equal parts enlightening and terrifying because I'd heard parts of it before.

Before coming to this world, even before my durance in the Abyss, there were rumors of a horrifically powerful fiend in the Plane of Shadows who'd kidnapped a race of fey beings to use as slaves to build an army before its sudden disappearance. By all accounts this creature was equal to a god in power and had already begun attracting a powerful coalition of entities determined to stop it when it did disappear. This caused all sorts of questions and concerns before an expedition to the Plane of Shadows found evidence of an abandoned settlement and traces of a magical rift that was completely sealed. Beyond that, no one could find out more and soon enough the matter was forgotten about. It was always assumed the creature had taken its slaves to some unknown world and was either destroyed or had accomplished what it set out to do.

Now I know what really happened. The Twilight, as the Arak call it, had indeed opened a portal to another world but its slaves fled into it while one, Arak the Erlking, fought it to a standstill in the dimensional corridor. When Maeve herself sealed the rift, the creature was trapped inside and became imprisoned in this plane thanks to its own power. She seemed genuinely surprised I knew anything about it and was intrigued enough to invite me to stay with her at the Malachite Palace. Knowing how mercurial the fey are, I know I'll be dismissed as soon as I stop being "entertaining" to her. But this is the perfect opportunity for me to find out what the Arak have collected about this world and the creatures within. And I can be quite entertaining when I put my mind to it, as Maeve found out when she invited me to her bedchambers. Given how clingy she's been since that first night, I guess I made quite an impression.

In the time since I've been poring over the Palace's library, transcribing a great deal of information I'd never known before, when I'm not being trotted out like a prize steed or entertaining Maeve in private. Two things still elude me: the calendar the Arak use and the original information I came here to find. I've not even scratched the surface of this collection so I'm not losing hope yet for the latter. Given the lack of seasons in the Rift by Maeve's own admission and the temporal dilation, learning how the Arak measure the date and time isn't a huge priority. The only thing that I'm all that concerned about is when Maeve's "Seelie Court" leaves for her winter palace and her brother Loht's "Unseelie Court" takes power. I've yet to meet him but what I have heard about him indicates our personalities would clash violently. Confusing and aggravating matters further is the unanswered question of whether or not I'm subject to the Law of Arak. To the Arak I fall into a gray area since I'm neither mortal nor shadow fey. Since I've never even harmed a shadow fey during my time in the Rift, and the few times I did on the surface were always in self-defense, there's arguments I should be subject to it out of simple courtesy and to protect other shadow fey.

I knew my coming here would have consequences and not just for me. But I seem to have grossly underestimated what they would be.
(End transcript)

[High Priest Mikhal]

(Excerpts from the journals of Alexander Dreamfire, Malachite Palace, Shadow Rift, ??, ??)
It's been three weeks since I last wrote. I think. Without the usual cycle of day and night it's easy to lose track of time. And with most of my time spent buried in books and scrolls, things have been running together. But I did find what I was looking for when a portune showed me how the Arak organize their bookshelves. I just wish the information was comforting.

A journal written by Eudemius, a planetar (one of the greater angels), had been stored and all but forgotten about. What he writes about is identical to everything I've noticed happening with me. The reality disruption eroding reality itself, the need to suppress that aspect, seeing beyond normal reality and into the underlying workings of the plane, all of it. He also wrote in time how he began losing cohesion with objects and people not anointed by a drop of his blood, becoming more and more incorporeal until such time that the planar barrier was like gelatin or gum during the last years. Nothing he tried would reverse or even slow it down. Since the journal ends before his final fate is known I can only surmise he was forced out and able to return to the Upper Planes. Given the stories of the Unspoken Pact, it's easy to figure out why I've never heard of Eudemius before. The powers (gods) do not let their servants talk about this world.

If the dates he writes are accurate, he was here for roughly sixty or seventy years before he was ejected. I've been here for forty-one so my time is running out. I hate the idea of not being able to stay and continue fighting for the good in this world, and especially being forced to abandon my friends and allies. Also the one question this doesn't explain how Isolde is some sort of exception to these rules. Given how she lacks the usual powers of a Ghaele eladrin, something she says the powers of Arborea deliberately stripped her of before coming here, I'm left with the assumption that the Court of Stars had to "prepare" her before the was allowed to enter here. Eudemius made the mistake of investigating a portal opened by a cubic gate and I came here to retrieve a dangerous artifact stolen from Mt. Celestia with my only preparation being a weapon I've never used that was given to me by the leader of the Celestial Hebdomad. In short, we weren't subjected to the same sorts of limitations beforehand.

This just raises so many more questions that I know will never have answers. It also means if I want to keep my promise to aid people like Ren who want to escape, I'll have to redouble my efforts to find the quasi-mythical scroll of return. I've had the Shining Force investigate rumors about it before but it's always been a fairly low priority. Now it's going to be a top one. Especially if I stay in the Rift too long given the temporal dilation ("temporal fugue," that term makes no sense to me).

Since I don't want to offend my hosts and this is such a rare opportunity, I'll have to make more of an effort to engage in Arak society and see what I can learn. Especially since the library here is proving far less useful than I initially thought. There's a plethora of books but so much of what they contain is contradictory, factually incorrect, or just plain useless. What few gems I have gleaned relate mainly to the Rift itself and to some interesting insights into the natures of darklords in surrounding domains. Things that could be of use and in at least one case explains current events. The Force's members in Hazlan will certainly want to know what happened to Hazlik during that time.

[High Priest Mikhal]

(Excerpts from the journals of Alexander Dreamfire, Esmerth, Shadow Rift, ??, ??)
The Courts changed rulership for the year a week ago. I was introduced to Loht and almost immediately we disliked each other. To him I'm an interloper that has no business associating with the Arak in general, much less his sister and ruler of the Seelie Court. To me, he's overbearing, elitist, and clearly projecting a sense of guilt about something. But in the politics of the Shadow Rift such things are never even acknowledged publicly. It was only in private that Maeve even told me she suspected it was him, and not the Unseelie Court's whip Jozell, that broke the Law of Arak by leaving Tristessa and her infant child to meet the sun. If that's true, he's committed a truly unforgivable act and by all rights should be cursed by the Dark Powers for it. Yet he doesn't seem to be suffering from such.

Speaking of the Law of Arak, a consensus was finally reached about my status under such. Since I'm not Arak, I'm not subject to its protections or its consequences. By this point I've proven I am both more than capable of defeating even the mightiest shadow fey and am not a threat to those who don't attack me first, so it's essentially a moot point. Aside from the saugh (undead) I've not had to defend myself against anything since my arrival here. But my ability to project an aura of light at will, even if it's only harmful to the saugh, still makes some Arak mistrustful of me. Thankfully I've had no reason to demonstrate my true abilities regarding light or their antipathy would undoubtedly turn into fear and hatred. That's something I wish to keep secret for now.

So far I'm finding Esmerth to be pleasant enough, if a little claustrophobic since it's inside a cavern. Every "night" Maeve has taken me to listen to shee bards singing and using the unique harmonics of the cavern as part of their performances so I must tip my hat at such cunning use of natural features. It actually reminds me of the crystal songs of my home world but without the prismatic shows by channeling light into said crystals. Not for the first time I regret not learning that skill; I'm certain even the Arak would appreciate the displays. My artistic skills are predominantly in the realm of martial arts displays and, ahem, the bedchamber.

One thing I've come to greatly appreciate is Maeve's private library in her "winter palace." Unlike the one at the Malachite Palace, this one is smaller but has far less superfluous content. She's even been helping me to better understand what I'm reading by engaging me in discussions of each book and showing she has a far greater understanding of the realities of this world than she lets on. For all the airs of a flighty courtier she puts on, it's a ruse to hide how keen her mind really is and how much she truly comprehends. It's an attitude I've seen countless times before because it works; her foes underestimate her and don't even notice when she's outplaying them at their own games. The breadth of knowledge in her library is naturally limited to those subjects most important to her but do include things not found elsewhere like dossiers on the leaders of surrounding lands, including their darklords. I always knew Azalin's name was really a bastardization of a term from a country on the world of Oerth, but I'd never had a chance to find out his true name until now. Other than the Words of Creation, though, it's not much use because I lack access to the historical records of that world.

Maeve seems delighted to have someone she can converse with on things like the nature of the Plane of Shadows and the hidden truths of "prominent people" like Ivana Boritsi and Vlad Drakov. More so someone who can teach her all new things about these subjects. I also admit it's a nice change from the idle entertainments of our time in the Malachite Palace. The one subject I was truly horrified to learn about was the Cult of the Spider-Queen, which I immediately recognized as a "corruption" of the already vile teachings of Lolth, the chief goddess of the drow--the dark elves of outlander worlds. While knowledge of this religion is public among the Arak, exact details have been all but expunged because of how hated it is. What the so-called zelldrow have turned it into is, if anything, even more heinous and repulsive because it lacks any of the usual restraints that keep the church in drow cities from becoming too excessive. In this world, there is nothing to stop it from degenerating into a murderous group of fanatics who will do literally anything to achieve power. It was that very attitude that caused Tristessa's destruction: she laid with a demon and birthed a cambion, a half-fiend. So she and her newborn child were staked to a rock to meet the sun.

If Loht was the true executioner, this makes his crime just that much more heinous. Cambions are usually completely evil, but there's always a chance they can be turned away from the darkness. And the murder of a child makes me physically sick. After learning all that my dislike for Loht turned into a smoldering hatred.

The one other subject I found most enlightening was something I didn't expect. There were passages from Eudemius' journal that had been torn out in Maeve's library recording his time in the Shadow Rift. Apparently the time spent there did not "count" towards his loss of cohesion as he spent years in the Rift without his condition advancing. I theorize this is because the effect is dependent on the passage of time on the surface as the true measure, which means it could take twenty-six years in the Rift before I noticed any change. This actually comes as a great relief because it means I'm not as pressed for time while I'm here as I previously thought. The opposite could be true, which means the Rift could act as a place I can perform lengthy work without worrying about my own loss of cohesion. What those could be I'm not sure of yet, but it's encouraging nonetheless.

Why Maeve allowed me to learn that last bit is mildly disheartening, though. I can read her like an open book and it's clear she did it for selfish purposes; my distraction prior meant I wasn't being the most attentive to her wants and needs. Very well, then. It wouldn't be the first time I've been forced into this sort of quid pro quo.

Editors' Note: Here M. Archer's journals begin detailing things during his time in the Shadow Rift we don't feel comfortable publishing due to its salaciousness and at times morbidity, gentle readers. Suffice to say that our author spent another five "years" in the Rift before returning to the surface. -- Geniffer Weathermay-Foxgrove
(End transcript)

[High Priest Mikhal]

(Excerpts from the journals of Alexander Dreamfire, Mordentshire, Mordent, Aug. 9, 741 BC)
I've returned home after a subjective five years in the Rift much refreshed and with some new ideas for the Shining Force. One of the things I discovered was a unique spell called egress, a short-range teleportation that can work on a dispersed group if they all have the proper spell focus on them and return them to a designated point. As a fifth-tier spell it does require a somewhat experienced caster but it's tactical uses are immense. The only major downsides are the spell foci are quite expensive and the return point itself requires a spell focus to act like a beacon. To justify the time to create them and the costs, it would be more practical to incorporate the spell foci used by targets into magic items.

Editor's Note: My sister and I believe we know what these foci are. M. Archer left us each a kind of badge with the Shining Force's emblem that can turn any melee weapon we wield into powerful holy weapons for a minute. Obviously this is more useful to my sister than myself. -- Geniffer Weathermay-Foxgrove

Another downside is if someone else takes a focus, they'll be teleported and not the person it was meant to. There are enchantments to prevent unauthorized people from using items, but that's going to add to the cost. That's something I gave a lot of thought to while in the Rift. The Archer Trading Company can't really make more money without new trade routes and partners. The Boritsi Trading Company already has deals with most of the groups I can think of and infringing on their claims will trigger a trade and shadow war I want to avoid. The only option right now is to establish contact with a land called Rokushima Táiyoo, a land whose culture and language are identical to ones I've encountered on different Material worlds and is eerily similar to my own people's ancient culture. Most cultures of the Core don't understand the unique etiquette Rokuman culture demands and this has severely hindered attempts at establishing trade relations. I have the unique advantages of not only knowing the language and culture, but of actually being a type of kami (spirit) worshipped by their religion, a heishin no yumemiru (lit., "dream spirit").

The biggest hurdle is dealing with the daimyo (warlords). Rokuman culture is highly stratified and militaristic, with strict castes of the nobles, warriors, heimin (half-people, like farmers and most tradesman), and eta (non-people like criminals, gamblers, and those in "unclean" professions like butchers and others who deal with dead bodies). Gaijin (foreigners) are barely a step above eta due to their perceived barbarity for not knowing proper etiquette. As I said, as someone who knows the culture and a kami I would have immense advantages in establishing relations. But the daimyo, from every report I've heard while in the Rift and since returning, are so materialistic and paranoid they would likely perceive me as a threat at worst, an exploitable resource at best. Especially if their fascination with firearms is any indication. I shudder at the thought of giving them guns; they're men who would reportedly sacrifice all of their subjects to destroy each other.

Unless I go, I can't be sure of anything. The code of bushido (lit., "Way of the Warrior") is deeply ingrained into the culture and one of the core tenets is respect for those below you unless they do something to dishonor you. The daimyo almost assuredly don't care but those who work for them can't all be dishonorable monsters who disregard the peasantry. If I can find the right things to trade, I may not even need to supply them with guns. And I can't establish what that might be unless I go myself and find out. Which is going to require a sea voyage; I already feel seasick.

(Excerpts from the journals of Alexander Dreamfire, Mordentshire, Mordent, Sept. 27, 741 BC)
Something is wrong with the books for the ATC. While preparing for the trip mentioned earlier, I pulled all the reports from the various branches to determine what unique crops and products would sell best where and noticed some subtle discrepancies spread across each. Small enough to be chalked up to simple clerical mistakes at first glance but too widespread and consistent to be so when you look at it all together. Someone is skimming funds and changing the official records before they come into Mordent. Someone with knowledge of the company's inner workings. Too many things are being sold to add up to the amounts reported, even accounting for taxes and tariffs. That's not counting things that are reported "lost" but still arrive to customers. By my estimates, the ATC is losing almost thirty-four percent of all earnings. The amount missing would make this trip unnecessary since there would be more than enough to satisfy the investors and still leave enough of my share to funnel into the Shining Force.

So far there are two people that are always involved. Blaine Hammersmith, the head of accounting for our headquarters, and Emilia Greentree, his assistant and liaison to the branches. Emilia is a skilled wizard and versed in teleportation magic, hence her position, which means she has the perfect opportunities to change the records. Blaine rarely ever leaves Mordentshire but has contacts at each branch and is intimately familiar with our bookkeeping system. It doesn't look good for either one, though either or both may be completely innocent. All the evidence is circumstantial for now.

The trip is scheduled to take at least three months, including the time it takes to sail to Rokushima Táiyoo. So to test my hypothesis that one or both are responsible, I plan on taking them both as well to see if them being removed from any position to cook the books doesn't change what's reported. Even if they're both innocent, this is a good chance to teach them the intricacies of proper Rokuman etiquette and courtesy as well as the nuances of trading with the culture. My gut is telling me neither is at fault but they're still somehow responsible. We'll see what the trip turns up.
(End transcript)

[High Priest Mikhal]

(Excerpts from the journals of Alexander Dreamfire, Sea of Sorrows, Oct. 14, 741 BC)
The preparations for this voyage were rushed and it shows. I've been forced to hand out meals from my everfull sack of food to account for a dangerous lack of provisions, when I'm not hanging over the side vomiting or laying down and too nauseated to move. A lot of the sailors are asking why I don't make such items standard issue on all ATC ships, given how it can provide quality food and allow for more cargo storage. They got their answer when we ran into an antimagic field today, one the sea charts listed but we should have been well clear of. Someone was changing the captain's measurements and it didn't take much effort to find out who.

When Blaine Hammersmith reported, his cousin, Natalie, came with him. She immediately raised red flags for me based on her behavior and words. She wasn't there to protect him but for her own, selfish reasons. Reasons she made abundantly clear as I lay in my cabin, asleep for the first time in days, when she tried to drive a dagger into my chest. The toughening of my flesh during my durance in the Abyss alone was enough to blunt her attack and prevent even a nicking of the skin, though she did damage a perfectly good shirt. I awoke immediately and reacted by grappling her to the ground as she tried to continue slashing at me. When the others arrived and found out she'd tried to kill me, she was locked in the brig and interrogated thoroughly. It seems she'd been the one skimming funds from each and every ATC shipment, stockpiling a massive amount of coin in a Borcan bank. She knew that if I asked Blaine or Emilia Greentree what was going on she'd be caught and decided to try and kill me instead. Even if she'd succeeded, I'd have reformed twenty-four hours later and simply teleported back to the ship while the crew tried to figure out what a sack of flesh and organs missing any and all bones, tendons, and muscles was doing in my cabin.

I convinced the captain to head back to port both to drop her off for trial and restock on supplies. We will be heading to Rokushima Táiyoo but not before we make proper preparations and ensure we're on the proper course.

(Excerpts from the journals of Alexander Dreamfire, the Mists, Nov. 21, 741 BC)
The Mordentish authorities kept all of us on land while they interviewed us and investigated Natalie Hammersmith. What they found was even more disturbing than attempted murder and embezzlement. The grounds around her home in Waterford were filled with shallow graves containing human bodies I had to identify, all of them associates of hers who confronted her about what she was doing over the years. That was more than enough for a jury to convict her of serial murder and see her hanged in just two days. Given how dark her soul was, I stayed to watch over the body after it was cut down and was not disappointed when her ghost rose that night. The same noose that ended her life was enough to lay her to rest permanently, a lucky guess on my part. I must be far more jaded than I thought if the whole affair seems so blasé to me.

Given the harsh nature of the seas this time of year, a whole new ship and crew had to be located. We wound up sailing under Captain Amanda Waverly, a salty half-elf who loves to jab me for "not having sea legs." Despite her rough edges, she's easily the best sea captain I've sailed under and knows how to motivate her crew. We set sail just three days and are already passing through a Mistway. Whether it's the right one or not remains to be seen. There's land in the distance but the Mists are obscuring any details even with telescopes. Given no one has plotted the currents or mapped the lands of Rokushima Táiyoo, we're sailing blind.

(Excerpts from the journals of Alexander Dreamfire, Chuugoka, Rokushima Táiyoo, Nov. 23, 741 BC)
So much has happened in the past two days I've not had time to write them down. It began with Captain Waverly spotting rocky shoals a mile off the shore and wisely dropping anchor before we got too close. We were preparing to send a dinghy to shore despite the setting sun when I felt the mystic tug of a summoning spell, one too weak to compel obedience but strong enough that it could teleport me to the summoner. As I'd already changed into clothing more appropriate for the culture in preparation, including a daisho (matching swords) and dropping the transmutation that hid my true form, I allowed myself to be taken. In an instant I appeared inside a wooden shrine brightly lit by paper lanterns to find the resident miko (shrine maiden) being assaulted by one man and the temple's aged sohei (a monastic guardian) being stood over by another while a third hung back, trying to talk sense into his compatriots and failing miserably.

In Rokuman culture there's a concept called tatemae, roughly "public feelings." It's considered poor manners to become visibly emotional in public. So despite my rage, I kept a calm face as I cleared my throat and asked what the two men thought they were doing in my shrine. The miko took advantage of the distraction to free herself and hide behind me, fixing her kimono so rudely torn open. The one that had been assaulting her just clenched his teeth and drew his katana while the others backed away in fear at the sight of a heishin no yumemiru (lit., "dream spirit") appearing suddenly and obviously furious at their conduct. The one just growled at me to "stay out of it" to which I asked if he meant letting him have his way with a defenseless woman followed by a mind arrow that knocked him senseless when it struck his forehead. It was meant to stun, not kill, since losing a fight is a horrible disgrace for a samurai (warrior nobles). I followed up by picking up his slack body and tossing him out of the temple and into the mud, followed by breaking his blade in half, another horrible disgrace.

The other two just fled in terror. I then helped the sohei up and healed both his wounds and the miko's before asking what had happened. She, Ayaka, explained that the local daimyo ("warlord") was allowing his vassals to do as they wished but there was scant little that could be done about that. She had actually summoned me hoping to acquire the aid of a "dream-eater," another type of dream spirit that banishes bad dreams, to help a child in the village who was suffering enervating nightmares. While that's well within my power and even remit as one of the kami ("spirits" or "gods"), my kind are better known as defenders of the weak against those that would abuse their power, laws and social mores be damned. Ayaka actually joked it was a good thing she summoned me instead because the man who was attacking her was a powerful samurai who was within his legal rights to attack a heimin ("half-person"). As a shaman she is not looked upon well by the upper classes, despite the fact most peasants trust her over the haughty shugenga.

I wasted no time in asking her to show me to the child suffering and she took me to a hut in disrepair. The boy's father had been killed by soldiers a month ago and his mother could barely walk, much less do repairs. It didn't take me long to find and destroy the greater dream spawn haunting the little boy's dreams, nor to psionically restore his weakened body and mind. The look of joy and gratitude on his mother's face was more than enough reward for me. They put me up for the night and I insisted on helping them repair their home, even healing her lame leg afterwards. It didn't take long for word my presence, much less my deeds, to spread and attract the pleas of others in need of help. Unlike in Sri Raji, there weren't so many people I exhausted my reserves healing serious injuries Ayaka couldn't. But it was a painful reminder of how badly hinins ("non-people") often live; they don't even have proper names, instead calling themselves by their professions.

The part of town inhabited by heimins I never got a chance to visit. That would be where I would find traders and merchants I could make deals with. Assuming the daimyo didn't interfere. I have the horrible feeling I will be dealing with him before I finish what I came to do. Especially if the stories about his feud with his brothers and his interest in gaijin ("foreigner") weapons "that spit fire" is true. The people suffer enough without their oppressors having access to firearms but I know all too well how much worse things would be if they did. I've seen entire cultures destroyed by hostiles that had access to guns when they didn't.
(end transcript)