The Waning Moon: Consignments
[The Waning Moon's deliveries are recorded here in a careful hand. The rear pages, however, are devoted to the distiller's personal reflections.] 10 Tarsahk Father Ketheric's reach begins to extend beyond Reithwin's borders. The Thorms are but collectors: collectors of coin, glory, blood, and more yet. I, however, collected that which holds the most value: information. The Mason caught my eye. Straight are his steps and faithful are his words, for as long as drink does not touch his tongue. Two drops of Blackfire whiskey, and he sings his heart's true tune. He calls Father a tyrant, a coward, a traitor. He beseeches the Moonmaiden to shine upon him once more. Dangerous words. I have told Father; he will surely silence the Mason and make him an example. Meanwhile, the Mason drawls his heresy. It is all I can do not to mock him to his very face. 6 Flamerule My own methods, used against me! The ale she fed me was poisoned - and by my own hand! My truth serum was all too effective. I professed the lot: the poisoned drinks, Malus' 'treatments', the interrogations - all of it. She means to reveal our 'schemes' to the Baldur's Gate authorities. Unless, of course, I grace her palm with more gold than Gerringothe could muster. Father would have my head if he knew - or worse yet, donate me to Malus. Such is my good fortune that I possess all manner of barrels. She should make a perfect fit. 23 Elient The Harpers came too close - they poisoned Father Ketheric himself, yet he professes no ill effects. Malus insists it a fluke. Doctor he may be, but he is no less a foll for it: Father has achieved that of which I can only dream: immortality. I have long suspected. I can guess Father's purpose, but I cannot fathom the means.