Maximilian Khanazar 11th Day of Uktar, 1372 DR Sanctuary, Underdark.
I feel that I have recovered enough strength to explore and begin to create my own records of Sanctuary. However, I fear that most of my brushes and tools were lost during my capture. The one brush that I managed to hide in my sleeve was used in my escape.
Perhaps I should go into more detail about how it came to be that I now write in this journal in the depths of the Underdark.
There are some lessons that one must learn at a young age. I spent most of my 24 years at the small monastery called Agamemnon's Libraries.
We were scribes, cartographers, artists, poets, teachers, story-tellers, brothers and sisters. We traded books, maps, scrolls, knowledge for the few resources that we required. Agamemnon was my guardian and teacher. He would need nothing in return for his wisdom or the knowledge in his libraries. Before he passed away, he asked each of his students to take any of his unfinished books or scrolls and finish them- a great honor, a great loss.
The beautiful maps had always been the scrolls that I enjoyed studying the most. I was eager to see the places that they showed. Yet that would have to wait, since the unfinished maps that I took from the libraries, depicted various caves to the west. Finishing the maps would be my first task, I decided.
Agamemnon taught us about the many dangers that surround us. Yet he would never tolerate any blades in his monastery. Instead, he gave us books on the topics of unarmed combat. "Your weapons are within those tomes." he said. We studied the tomes at night and trained during the day. In training, the knowledge gained was shared.
Now, heading to the west, I had to remember my training, for the dangers were many.
I spent almost a year in the small settlement near the area of the caves that I were to map. I knew what lurked in the caves, and I remembered to be careful, always.
I was returning from the caves one day, my maps resting in the leather bag by my side. I believe I heard the dry leaves break apart under her feet before I heard her scream out for help. A young woman said she was being chased by slavers. She said that they were close and that we had to hide in the caves. I knew that the caves would be more dangerous with her by my side- fear was directing her every action. I asked how many slavers were after her, she just yelled out "Many!" and began crying. Three men approached us, and on the hills in the distance, there were many more.
"When faced with multiple advancing opponents, always face the center of their attack line. Observe the movements of the line's ends. Take steps back should they attempt to spread out to your sides. Notice their wounds, if any, the weapons they carry, their size. Your objective is to learn as much as you can about your foe in that time; keep them in your line of sight as they advance, and know their strengths so that your defenses may be adjusted." Three men... missing left hand... blood flowing slowly from another's forehead... the one on my right seems unsure; he will make mistakes... blades; two firm grips and one that trembles... "
The other slavers came to us, laughing at the three they watched fall to the ground by my hands. There were too many, but I had to remain focused. One of the slavers joked about a bet and told another to give him his coin. Another gestured to the woman behind me. Before I could turn around, she had a dagger at my throat. A trap that provided some entertainment. The other slavers were amused.
Over the hills, other slaves were being directed to a cave I had not had the chance to explore yet. They covered our eyes with cloth, it was their insurence that noone would attempt to escape since they would not know the way out.
I managed to hide a single brush in my sleeve as they searched through my belongings, casting out most of my things because they were worthless to them. Fortunately in a way, the binds that the slavers used on my hands and feet were sharp and rough in someplaces. Many times did the chains cut into my wrists when I used them to sharpen the end of the brush. Perhaps the wounds I suffered from the chains eventually led to my illness. It seems that I came close to death only to have my life saved by it. Had I not become ill during the days following my capture, the slavers wouldn't have decided to kill me.
The one who guarded me was a good man. As we travelled deeper and deeper into the caves, he told me that he must do this, for their leader said he would kill all the members of their families had they not helped him. This was the man that was ordered to take my life when I became ill. They told him to wait while the other slaves were moved deeper into the caverns. Then he drew his blade. I had no choice. I asked him to remove my chains, for I did not want to die a slave. He agreed, removed the cloth from my eyes and asked me to turn around.
My hands free, my eyes on the shadow of a man ready to swing a blade at the back of my head. He said "I am sorry, my friend.". He reached back and attacked. My vision was blurred, but when I dodged and turned around, I saw the blade swing by me. Then, instantly, my eyes moved to the small space between his helm and shoulder armor. The brush was in my freed hand now. Perhaps Death demanded a sacrifice in return for sparing me. Perhaps this was its scheme all along; to have me kill this guard and then die of illness in these caves so that two would perish and not just one. The sharpened tip found its way through the small opening and into the guard's throat. "As am I, friend.".
He did not make any noise, but I had little time. Hours before, I heard the guards tell the other slaves that their new masters were close. Yet I was only strong enough to attempt to save one life; my own. My only hope and guide was the noise. I had to keep moving til I could not hear the other slavers in the distance, in the dark.
As I attempted to escape from the caves, my illness continued to weaken me.
I am told that when I was brought to Sanctuary, I was near death and unconscious. The person or persons that rescued me, left me in the care of a healer, and payed for her services. I owe them my life. They are the reason why I am able to make this entry and do so in the depths of the Underdark.
//edited because English is not my first lang and notepad is spellcheck challanged