The Chronicles of Bael Part 1

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Wildday, Truth Week, Dark Season, 1599

And now my own story begins, inscribed upon the fine vellum sheets of the bound tome given to me by my Master upon my initiation to the Cult of Lhankor Mhy. It is my wholehearted intention to honor my God with a truthfully chronicle of my travels. And if these travels prove to be as eventful as the past seven years spent apprenticed to my Master, I believe that my writing shall indeed provide a great and bountiful offering of knowledge to my God.

"Dear nephew, today you have become a man", my Master said as I left the room of testing.

I had been very confident of my success before beginning my trial, but Zanith the Provost of Apprentices had probed me to the point of despair. Long have I attracted Zanith's scorn, for he hates those he cannot govern, and my Master will stand no influence upon my training by another. And so, Zanith sought to ensure my failure with his questions. Yet my Master has taught me well for wise old Salmar Bat finally interceded and put an end to my interrogation. Ultimately, Zanith could not sway his fellows and I was declared an initiate of the great Lightbringer and God of knowledge Lhankor Mhy.

Leading me back to the generous rooms that the Temple priests had provided my Master, he favored me with one his many riddles.

"Keep me with you to survive,
In the fields of death few keep alive.
Forged of fire, water and sinew,
Sharp and long and bright.

What am I"?

Filled with delight, I answered my Master almost immediately.

"A sword, you make it too easy for me my Master."

I knew my Master was pleased with me for nothing did I love so much as my great sword. My sword, given to me by my father on the day we parted, newly forged, perfectly weighted, but at the time far too big for a boy of just twelve years. But it has been my constant companion for these last seven years, and as I have grown stronger I have learned to wield it like few others. It is a constant link to my past, to life I had before. It is also a symbol of my Masters love for me, for the great sword is not a weapon of Lhankor Mhy, yet at great cost did he have the most powerful of all Bladesharp matrixes scribed upon the base of the blade. Yet does he also allow me to daily to train at the temple of the Storm Bull when all the other apprentices are at their books.

Once back in my Masters rooms he presented me with my gift to mark my initiation, the bound tome of the finest vellum upon which I now scribe these words. At first, I expecting to find the works of one of the great masters and was startled to find the pages entirely blank.

"Now that you are no longer an apprentice, you must keep a journal of your own. The story of your life, a record of your studies and all that you learn from this day hence. One day, nephew, you will walk the path of heroes, for you were born to greatness. Who better to record your deeds than you?"

As fine a gift as my Master's gift, his words of praise and promise meant far more to me. I swore to myself at that moment that I would strive with all my might to live up to my Masters expectations. My journey begins tonight as I write the first entry in my journal.


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