The Book of Journeys

[Geddoe]

A few final words, a signature, then the closure of the book and a nod to Pritchard sealed the beginning of a new book of histories. A tome of adventures and journeys, left to sit upon the bar under Pritchards -usually- watchful eye. Such was often the tradition of Geddoe's people, to begin a record of the days with which one finds to be the most worthy of remembrance. To bring the histories of a great many heroes back to the clan where great legends and stories of horror or sorrow, adventures and tales of discovery shall be told and passed upon to later generations as the heroes of the clan and of faraway lands. And this place that he had stumbled upon in Myrkenwood was rife with such men and women of valor and courage and among them he found the beginning of his story as well. For this was the start of Geddoe's tome of journeys, as well as that of all of the Broken Dagger's occupants.

The Book of Journeys

1st Era, 12th Century, 35th year, Day 5 of the month of Winter's Peak.

For upon all whose eyes lurk across these pages, the feathered tapestries of lives herein are merely a record for later knowledge, that in the days past in which time spent here can be reflected upon with aged eyes to recount these then-to-be days of old, there shall be a written record of these journies and memories. Consider this a compendium of all truths and a coffin full of lies, a glimpse of sight from foreign eyes where our own souls doth not dare dwell, as well as a compilation of one's own great histories. Let all feel free to enscribe their tales within these leather walls and bleed their stories across the silken pages of this tome. Cull your thoughts and speak freely, as this is the book of all journies. Speak free...Speak free....and shall these stories then be told.
~ Geddoe

[Geddoe]

1E, 1235, 5th Winter's Peak

I do not claim to be a man of the world, for much of it lies beyond the sight of mine eyes. I claim only that it has been quite some time since I've been home...quite some time that I've spoken my native tongue. And so in the adherance of clan traditions, I begin this record of my travels. Across the span of the 6th year since having left the confines of Kathay, I have seen far too much, and yet as well perhaps said too little, to begin my tale upon the first day. So it has come to be my decree that I shall begin these histories with today. With my arrival at this place so called Myrken Wood. So much does it compare to that long forgotten home that I can nay resist the urge to take upon the burden of an extended stay...alas I speak of this as a burden, yet the burden is solely upon that of coin, as my last few may be spent rather quickly lest I find work among the occupants of this land. The Broken Dagger... yes, a small inn among the forests where I have taken my temporary residence. Perhaps work can be found here but as yet this has not proven to be a profitable thought. Nonetheless my endeavours shall continue, as I feel that Ghese as well aches for the compensation of a job well done, and shares the comfort that I've quickly developed to this strange land and its many varied peoples. Ghese... what I would have done these many years without his companionship I know not. As although all the men of Kathay have their blade gifted by the shaman with the soul of an ancestor clansmen, I feel as though I enjoy a considerable amount of luck, as few spirits that I have known share as close a friendship with their companions as myself and Ghese. Time grows late now though... and I feel compelled to sleep so that an early start may be achieved on the next day's events. I shall close this entry for now and continue again tomorow night.
~Geddoe

[Geddoe]

Thoughts on Ghese...

1E, 1235, 5th Winter's Peak

The culmination of my memories with Ghese have led me to write this passage detailing the nature of his being. A none so odd existance of consanguinity to the fae spirits or will-o-wisps. Ghese is, in large part, the auric embodiment of a nether-realm soul, an ethereal link to a spirit no longer among the physical world. This is the nature of Ghese, my friend and companion since the age of sixteen, when the shaman blessed my chosen blade with the protection of an ancestral soul from the spirit world, as such is the common practice and tradition for the men of the clan of Kathay. For as we speak to our guardian spirit we learn and grow from their experience , mayhaps so that their mistakes will not become ours. Upon the midway of the summoning ritual the shamans were approached by Ghese, they felt him as a vagabond soul but also as one who had close attachments to the clan and his home land, an odd mix of wanderlust and homeland pride. With my acceptance of this soul I was instructed to bear my blade, and so I did. The runic encryptions upon the hilt of said sword are now the mental & verbal link between myself and this spirit. The rest is history. Ghese, my friend, the guardian of my blade and once my mentor in combat... it is nary that I feel I shall ever chose another spirit over Ghese... as such is the choice made by those who abandon their blade for another, the runes can be transferred but only if the strongest of friendship exists between the bearer and his guardian and the bearer himself mutters the necessary incantations.... that is all for now, work is at the top of the agenda now, and I must find some soon.