Dearest reader. I pen tidings from Tsul Gazar and beyond! What wonders and thrills Tophenni, Sheos, and I have encountered since the last entry in this journal. I am reminded quickly that you have not been introduced to my newest companion Valenao, but trust that I shall forge a proper doorway in my writings through which this feyborn shall enter the tale.
The exploration of Tsul Gazar was the most arduous part of my journey to date. As with all wilderness locales, the risk of beasts and magus-devouring flora was high, and in Tsul Gazar I can confirm such things are unrelenting. In this kingdom you can never know who is speaking truth and who is wearing a false face. Shapeshifters are exceedingly common here, though they would have you believe otherwise. The only hope an outsider such as myself has of survival is with someone who knows the region and the few secure outposts in clearings, trees, dry patches in swamps, and trails that take one away from nesting areas instead of into them. Rest assured, dear reader, that we stumbled into more than one nest but were quickly deterred when the smells of putrefaction or scant bodily remains of the prey dragged there reached our senses. Thankfully, Sheos is a cultist from this realm. I had assumed her an elf all this time, but once we began our path through the under- and overgrowth, her nature revealed itself as a werejaguar — a being capable of taking the form of a great cat.
Reader, I bear no prejudices. I am no imperial who believes these people belong here and those people belong there. In Draoidahaek, slavery is outlawed and freedom is a keystone of our foundation. This is why the skybound kingdom is the wisest one in all of Gewinn. Nevertheless, I concede my reservations when I discovered Sheos’s true form. She was hunting for us while we camped, and to learn more of how Tsul Gazarians track and trap their prey, I followed her, only to witness her transformation. At that point I wondered if she was leading us into an ambush, but soon my sensibilities recovered, you will be pleased to know. Myself and Tophenni caught her, bound her, interrogated and tortured her until we were certain of her loyalty. Now, no doubts wrack my mind.
Tsul Gazar is often described as “wilderness given to the wild,” and I understand the sentiment having visited. There’s a clear delineation between the forested and the jungled areas of the kingdom, though it remains a mystery to me as to how temperate woodland can so conveniently abut tropical overgrowth, unless it be down to the passage of the suns (but even then, the divide is so thin as to be remarkable). I suspect a magical contrivance, by which I mean at some point in history, great magi (likely crownbearers) divided Tsul Gazar into two forms, and though those world-movers might have expired, the remains of their work continue to stand.
Do not be mistaken, however, into thinking that Tsul Gazar is bereft of civilization. Time and again we discovered signs of habitation, standing stones marked with sigils (Sheos treated them with extreme reverence, so Tophenni and I afforded them a wide berth), and trails formed through the trees almost as if the plants moved to accommodate us. I reason that it’s possibly so. The land itself in Tsul Gazar appears to possess consciousness.
Yet our movements through Tsul Gazar did not keep us there. I had intended on finding the River Thurn and using it to access the Fork Canal, or vice versa, and thus sail northwest from this kingdom toward the Nithera Empire (I have long delayed visiting the imperial domain, as I know from verified accounts how brutally they treat spies), but it was as we were climbing free from the swamp-bound Wet Dungeon that we stumbled into something quite unlikely: a cottage with wide windows, smoke pouring through a chimney, and the smell of freshly baked treats. The three of us, now accustomed to devouring what we could catch, were immediately overcome with voracious appetites and charged into the house to kill whoever was within and eat their sweet, hot food, but entering was a gateway to a realm I hadn’t expected us to visit as yet: Iom.
Be assured, we still slew the old woman at the oven and ate the cakes she’d warmed, but now we were in another kingdom — the fabled kingdom of feyborn, curse magic, and nightmares. We could have departed the way we came, and I’m sure we would have reentered Tsul Gazar, but the chance to explore Iom was too great. Passing through the cottage and out the other side, the entire landscape had altered. We were now seeing golden and alabaster white buildings with unnatural architecture and unsettling curves. We were witness to magical fountains and disturbing beings of hideous proportion. It was as if we had entered some wicked child’s dreams. When we interacted with the locals, most of them laughed at us, some of them tried to lure us into their homes (we were not so foolish), and others just smiled and backed away. Not a one of them looked or acted in a way I deemed healthy or trustworthy.
Iom is a small kingdom compared to most others. I believe we traversed it southeast to northwest in around three days, though it’s difficult to measure time in such a realm. I have chronicled a huge number of monstrous aberrations and magical anomalies for study back in the Apprentice Warrens in Draoidahaek, and made purchases of sorcerous candies and curse candles (I will not consume or light either; they are for experimentation in a safer place than this).
Iom was the first place I’d visited outside of Draoidahaek where the danger only became truly apparent during my departure. We found ourselves facing a cottage identical to the one through which we entered, and as Tophenni remarked, it felt as if it was inviting us to leave. Only this time, when we entered the old woman’s house, she was a monstrous, many-mawed, clutching being. She belched flames and noxious smoke, and from behind her endless giggling, snarled and glared. She hooked me in her catcher-claws, and while Tophenni attempted to free me (I note that Sheos was slow to assist), it was of no use! The old faerie creature was trying to drag me into her oven and turn me into one of her cakes, I am sure of it! But I was never afraid. I do not fear. I welcome doom in all of its forms.
It was then, at that crucial moment, that a drastically handsome feyborn goldsman burst through a stained glass window above the old woman’s fireplace and snatched the keys from her belt. I do not know what they unlocked or represented, but the old woman was so incensed that she dropped me and grabbed for the thief! Gratitude is all well and good, but I had to protect Tophenni (and even Sheos) so we took the time to flee instead of offering thanks. It was just as well, for the goldsman was fleeing in the same direction. With a laugh, this tall, chiseled feyborn rolled through the round door with us, and together we found ourselves in distant northwest Tsul Gazar. He introduced himself as Valenao, and once again I had a squad of four.
