Return to Put

To the Honorable Priestess of Melora:

It has been too long since I have corresponded with you, for which I apologize. We have been busily engaged in tracking down the Temple of the Featherwood. We did find it (which is a tale for another time), and we aided our comrade Tiny in his quest to heal the cracks that would tear apart our worlds (which is also a tale for another time).

We followed Falan back to Put, where he went to consult with someone to see if he could entrust the knot to us. While we waited, we happened upon Brother John in one of the local taverns.

Once again, Honorable Priestess, I must apologize for not mentioning Brother John in my earlier correspondence with you. We are not yet renown, and there are no bards willing to capture and sing of our travels and adventures. (Perhaps, though, bards are not needed to sing of our tales. Kale Metis, the Mage of Human ancestry, and Zrynfari, the Eladrin Warlock, sometimes speak of some legendary instruments of a magical nature that can allow those who are untrained in the musical arts to play as though they were a -- how could I describe this -- a band of skilled musicians. These powerful arcane instruments are known to some as "Bard Guild." The wonders of the magical arts never cease to amaze me.)

But I do digress. Brother John was someone we had met early in our adventures. Months ago, during our travels to aid Bran Tredegar (the Halfling Rogue) on his quest to deliver a message to his uncle Falan, we encountered Brother John on the road. He seemed to live his life like we do -- in harmony with nature. He warned us of a creature heading in our direction. The creature was a white bear, who was possessed by an unnatural spirit (an animata, we were told). We had no choice but to kill the bear. Brother John aided us and we managed to defeat the animata. Brother John wanted only the bear pelt as a gift, which we agreed to give to him.

Much later in our adventures, we learned that Brother John was a participant in the old campaign. Lakos, the father of our Half-Elven Warlord Garg, discovered the body of Brother John during the campaign. Brother John had been killed with a knife. And yet we saw him alive in our early adventures, and we see him alive here and now in the present!

The Mage Kale suspects that Brother John might be the executor of the Judges -- the assassin who led the rebellion against the 100 -- the one who speaks to us through the box -- the 101.

With this suspicion deeply in our hearts, we sat with him in this tavern in Put, and we attempted to ascertain the truth of the matter.

The Warlord Garg first suggested to Brother John that they get a "private room", which Brother John and the others in our party somehow misinterpreted in a very strange way. (I still do not understand the ways of humans and why they feel embarrassed about certain aspects of the natural cycle of life.)

The Mage Kale surreptitiously took the box with him to the outhouse. As we found out later, he sent a message to the 101 and waited but received no reply. He joined us again in the tavern, and we proceeded to question Brother John.

Brother John remained very quiet and gave short, unenlightening responses. As the night wore on, Carlagnious (the Dragonborn Fighter) insisted on ordering more and more rounds of drinks, which had little effect beyond dulling all of our brains and giving us hangovers as large as his Vicious Battle Axe. But there was a point when I seem to remember Brother John making an interesting comment. We asked him if he knew Logrid, but he feigned ignorance. He wanted to know who she was, so we explained our encounter with her and how she had almost killed Bran. Brother John commented that she sounded like quite a "bastard". "Bastard" was the same word that 101 used to describe Logrid, when we asked him.

So this is all we know at the present. I'm writing this to you on the morning after we questioned Brother John in the tavern. My head is pounding as though my skull is being hammered by a rain of steel, and for this I blame my own indulgences in ale and the Dragonborn for insisting on "just another round".

Today, we will meet with Falan again in the hopes that he will give us the knot and direct us to find the Mad Mage.

If my writing is less than intelligible or my accounts of our travels less than true, I apologize for the previous night's excesses. Nature has blessed me with much wisdom but taken from my intelligence to make up for it.

I hope this letter finds you well. I will write you again from the road today.

Your servant and faithful follower of our Great Goddess Melora,

Aelar

A Short Postscript: The Warlord Garg has requested that I mention that ... how shall I say this? ... His Dad sends his greetings to you, wishes you well, and ... says that ... you are still a ... a ... fine woman. I hope that do not take offense. I am passing along this message in accordance to the wishes of my comrade.