The Chronicles of Bael

The Chronicles of Bael Part 2

Freezeday, Disorder Week, Storm Season, 1599

I was proud to stand among the initiates during the Godday ceremonies, but less pleased with my new responsibilities. As the apprentice to a Wild Sage, my Master was able to shield me from many of the mundane tasks imposed by the Provost of Apprentices. But Kaldomar, the Chief of Loremasters says that I must earn my lodgings for a room in the temple does not come for free.

Long did my Master argue with Kaldomar, but finally they agreed that I must spend half of each day teaching on behalf of the temple. Kaldomar is particularly pleased, for he previously had none who could teach the Esrolian tongue or script. Add to this my knowledge of New Pelorian and Satarite and he will no doubt keep me well employed with subjects for which I have little interest.

Indeed, I fear that I will find few opportunities in the coming months to leave the temple grounds to train with the Storm Bulls; for my newly won access to the archives means that my Master shall impose upon my remaining time to undertake more research on his behalf.  I do not find my Master's study of Chaos uninteresting, in many ways it is too interesting. Days spent learning from my Master have often been the cause of nightmares stemming from my too young visit to the cursed land of Dorastor or that doomed valley known as Snakepipe Hollow.

My Master is the preeminent authority on the subject of Chaos in all the known lands. Many who choose this line of study die young, but not my Master. It is said that my Master's knowledge exceeds that of any Priest of Irrippi Ontor, though they are themselves no better than minions of Chaos in the eyes of many. So vast is his knowledge that great men come from as far as Glamour and Nochet City to consult with him and beg his advice. Some come seeking power from Chaos, these mostly from the Empire, others come seeking knowledge to destroy it, but all bring gold. Such is the demand for my Masters teachings that the Temple at Furthest has grown rich upon the tithes he brings and jealous to retain possession of one of the most famous Wild Sages of Lhankor Mhy.

For now, my Master seems content to remain in Furthest, spending many long hours in the Temple library. I have no doubt that he is planning his next expedition to some foul nest of Chaos. Such thoughts fill me with a rising dread; our expedition last year to the Chaos lands of Dorastor still fills my sleeping hours with terrible nightmares and frightening apparitions. 

Many of my fellow initiates are jealous of my many field trips beyond the walls of the Temple little knowing the horrors that I have witnessed.  Yet they spend far too little time practicing their martial skills if they wish to leave the Temple and live. Perhaps this is a consequence of the Lunar Empire's ban on the cult of Orlanth in Tarsh, for there are no sword masters from our fellow Lightbringers to properly instruct our people on the Cult's favored weapon the short sword.