Adventure Log

Prologue: Candlekeep
Nestled atop the cliffs that rise from the Sword Coast, the citadel of Candlekeep houses the finest and most comprehensive collection of writings on the face of Faerun. It is an imposing fortress, kept in strict isolation from the intrigues that occasionally plague the rest of the Forgotten Realms. It is secluded, highly regimented, and it is home.

Within these hallowed halls of knowledge your story begins. You have spent most of your 20 years of life within this keep’s austere walls, under the tutelage of the sage Gorion. Acting as your father, he has raised you on a thousand tales of heroes and monsters, lovers and infidels, battles and tragedies. However, one story was always left untold: your own. You have been told that you are an orphan, but your past is largely unknown.

Lately, Gorion has been growing distant from you, as if some grave matter weighs heavily on his heart. You have asked about his concerns as gently as possible, but your queries have been in vain. Your sole comfort is the knowledge that he is a wise man, and you know he will tell you when the time is right. Nonetheless, his silence is troubling and you cannot help but feel that something is terribly wrong.

Today, Gorion appeared more agitated than ever, and now he has uncharacteristically interrupted your chores in the middle of the day. Imparting hurried instructions for you to equip yourself for travel, he has handed you what gold he can spare, but given no clues as to why. Nevertheless, you now stand before the Candlekeep Inn, ready to purchase what you need for an unplanned and unexpected journey.

Chapter One: The Way of the Lion
You pass through the great gates of Candlekeep for the first time in your life, and cannot help but wonder if you will ever see your home again. Gorion abjures you, ''"Hurry, child. The night can only get worse, and we must find shelter soon." ''After these words, he maintains his usual silence as you take the cobbled road into the forest, and before an hour has passed, the familiar walls have passed out of sight. Night falls swiftly on the coast, and as the light dims, Gorion whispers a little light into being atop his walking stick - not the first time you have seen him perform this trick. Soon it is the only light under the distant, cold stars, and the only sound the shuffling of Gorion's feet and yours on the gritty stone... until Gorion halts you with a hand outstretched.

"Wait... we are not alone. We're in an ambush, child.  Prepare yourself!"

He pushes you back and steps in front of you, nearly obscuring your view of the four hulking figures that step onto the road. The leader is enormous, clad in horned armor, and laughs as he hears Gorion speak.

"You're perceptive for an old man. You know why I'm here.  Hand over your ward and no one will be hurt.  If you resist, it will be a waste of your life."

"You're a fool if you believe I would trust your benevolence," Gorion spits. "Step aside and I shall leave you and your lackeys unhurt."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, old man."

With that, the ambushers attack.