Having to travel with two women as my only associates is a trying experience. At least with Pelmarco I had another man with whom to converse. With just Dawn and Niahla’Sen, I have to deal with their constant bickering and snickering, and sometimes can’t even get enough pause in their conversation to add my own opinion. This all changed today. We awoke this morning to find a disheveled man riding a bedraggled horse into our campsite. His name is Kellon, although it took some food and rest before he would tell us more than that. It turns out news of my exploration of Etnyben is spreading, no doubt as a result of the scandal caused when the Great King by reading my journal learned that the Dark Magicians originated by actions of the Sisterhood of Jadela’Mar. The Council of Adaptive Writing and Publishing seeks to profit on the global interest generated by this news. Kellon is their agent, sent to find us and record everything he can about my journey through this land.
So what should a man do when offered such a lucrative deal? Niahla’Sen said I’d be a fool to refuse. The initial payment they offered would allow me to retire as soon as my journey ended, and the continued profits from book sales would allow me to live in luxury for the rest of my life. However, I had to decline, at least for now. My journal is for Hudena’Sor, not the world. She is the one who will decide if the Council of Adaptive Writing and Publishing has permission to publish my journals.
Kellon is still welcome to join us on this expedition, and considering his condition, he’d be better off joining us. Apparently, he received his instructions to find us later than Niahla’Sen, and arrived in Torheem about a month after we left. He’s been trying to catch up with us ever since. From what he’s told us about his travels, he was only a few days behind us when he reached the area thick with thorns, but intervention by a Lunari sent him around the thorns, and far behind us. He doesn’t know what we know about that place, and I’m not going to tell him for now. If he ever reads my finished journal, then perhaps he will learn what he narrowly avoided.