The following pages are excerpts and musing from the journal of Ephraim Cole. The text is written in broad strokes, without hurry and evenly spaced.

It has been several weeks since my flight from Deep Gorge, the small ex-slave settlement that I had spent the majority of my life inhabiting. Sanctuary is an odd place— in many ways, so similar to Deep Gorge, and yet entirely different. Though they knew the values of a steady line of defense in the form of well-armed, disciplined men, the animatrons and siege equipment Sanctuary possesses would cause the people of Deep Gorge to drool with envy. In contrast, the people of Deep Gorge lived happily under the rule of Mayor Granius for some eighteen years prior to the attack. In Sanctuary, political intrigue seems to be a rather commonplace event.

I could have lived here quite happily, spent the rest of my life as just another citizen, if not for a certain discovery I made upon my arrival. Truthfully, perhaps it was even before my arrival. The discovery of a Way. Coming upon a seemingly insane grey dwarf prior to discovering Sanctuary’s existence, I learned that apparently the group’s formation was directly involved with the discovery of a path to the surface, to freedom. I had heard tales of the surface world from my father, who had heard stories of this place from his father, who supposedly had once lived in true sunlight.

I follow no God; I will play no part as the pawn in the grand schemes and machinations of the Divines. Yet, I can’t help shaking the feeling that I was led here by Fate. For the first time in my life, the desire for freedom— not just freedom from the Drow, Duergar, or murderous monsters, but true Freedom, Freedom from this world!— swelled within me.

I must find a way out of this place. I will leave the Underdark.

Perhaps I am being selfish.

One thing about Sanctuary— there’s no lack of work to be done. Not only do the inhabitants have to fear the outside, but each other. Cannibalism, the undead, the Chosen, vicious murderers who would run you through without a second thought…it’s almost dizzying, the number of ways one could perish here.

I first realized this thought shortly after my first foray. I joined a duo of sorts, a young paladin of Ilmater named Kaylee and a half-orc warrior-priest whose name escapes me, in their quest to expel a great evil within a mausoleum. Though I had met them just for a short time, and they me, we trusted our lives to each other, descending into the dark and battling with all of our skill. It was teamwork in its purest form, and quite an experience for me. Though I have worked with many other groups since then, it is always that first time that will remain locked in my memory. Not because of the deed itself, but because of what happened after.

We returned to town hall shortly after collecting our reward, and went our separate ways. A group of people had gathered in front of the steps to Town Hall, as is their want. One lad in particular caught my attention. He was just a little boy— or perhaps a Halfling? Who knows— but he was wearing a suit of armor bathed in blood. Tear-tracks stained his dirty cheeks. Perturbed, I asked the fellow what was the matter, and he responded only with a simple plea, “I just wish people could work together more.” His words stuck with me, reverberating within my mind until at last they found my core. I readily agreed with the lad’s suggestion, which only made later events all the more ironic.

-- A Private of the Watch attempting to apprehend an armored Dwarf for nearly slaying another Sanctuary citizen and taking his gold. Ironically, his combatant was more upset about his coin than nearly losing his life. -- A Kobold of above-average intelligence, ducking and fleeting from corner to alley in the Lower Sanctuary, jealous of “humie privileges.” -- A member of the Watch brutally executing a subdued prisoner outside of the building before a small crowd, while the mob murmured in support.

A half-orc by the name of Jonas accosted me as I was exiting the Last Stand the other day. He was asking directions to the Hall of Seekers, a perfect stranger, despite his heritage. Of course, not being one to judge, I walked him there, and advised him to explore the town for himself. I was struck by how much I saw myself in him. (Of course, one of the notable differences being, upon my arrival to Sanctuary, I wandered about on my own, and never had a thought of asking another person to help.) I know not of his goals, or his purpose, or even if he sought the Way. But it did not matter.

I was wrong, I am wrong. I will not be able to find this Way on my own. Despite my original goal to keep myself out of the politics and troubles of this place, time and time again I find myself called to help. This city suffers, and rather than turning myself into a quasi-Cleric, aiming to heal the wounds of the people one at a time, I will seek a more permanent 'cure' for them. Freedom. I will find the Way- but I will also find a 'way' to bring those who seek freedom with me. A grand exodus, as it is. But to achieve this goal, I must immerse myself in Sanctuary.

Sanctuary is not just a town, but an ocean. A sea of drifting soul, bedraggled and soaking, clinging desperately to one each other in a never-ending struggle for survival. Sink or swim. The entire community must kick as hard as they can to stay afloat, or the inactivity of a few will serve to drag down the whole, lost forever in the grey depths. Without sword nor shield, I have begun to wade into the water, keeping my head above. We shall see how long I can maintain.

Sanctuary's a small pond. It occurs to me that some people- especially, in my belief, those closest to the top of the government here- would be loath to leave it. After spending decades learning to survive in the Underdark, eking out a civilization and protecting it from numerous threats, it was a natural progression that most people would choose not to leave it. There's too much invested in Sanctuary to simply turn away from the village and pursue the Way. Mad to think of it, madder to try.

Knowing this, it seems to me that the best chance of garnering some support lies in the newcomers to Sanctuary, who trickle in every other day or so. I could gain a substantial amount of support. Unbelievable, I feel like a bit of a politician: get them while they're young. Still, perhaps I am a bit mad. The other day, we came upon a Chosen lurking in the sewer system. While the others enchanted their weapons and unsheathed cold silver...I charged the beast with only my fists. Needless to say, I was hard pressed to keep my head in its proper place.

This brings up an interesting thought. Am I being hypocritical by helping these other adventurers in their quests for coin? Such things seem to only cement my position here in Sanctuary, when I should be trying to leave.

[A short break in the page appears here, as if the writer had taken a moment to ponder the question.]

I have no interest in wealth. Any gold I recieve is quickly spent: on potions and the like, herbs...essentially, things that keep me alive just a bit longer. I must remember- work together. Rather than claw myself towards the surface hand by bloody hand, stand on another's shoulders and leap from there. Besides, I cannot in good faith turn my back on people in trouble.

I've met a number of different people. None of them seem to be pursuing the Way in the way I feel I am doing, but perhaps that is because the idea has never occured to them. I've done a bit of digging about the Seekers, and it seems to me that they have suffered a great deal of tragedy. I'll have to ask around a bit more and see what I can find..

A near-death experience re-acquainted me with an important lesson: Try not to die. Obvious enough, but easier said than done. After all, I cannot accomplish anything if I am dead. And to think that my end nearly came from kobolds, of all things...!

I am understandably shaken, more than I would like to admit. But at least something came out of the encounter. If you save a man's life, you become responsible for him. My savior turned out to be a warrior I know only by Runhaem. And turnabout seemed to be fair play- later on, I ended up rescuing him from the same fate I was nearly faced with. Even though our ultimate result was failure, I consider him an ally, which is more than I could say for others. One group I gathered together proved to be effective in the field but absolutely horrible in terms of teamwork. They argued before, during, and after the mission about everything from law to tactics to the split of the reward. It was with a sigh of relief when I disbanded them.

Despite my hardships, I have at least partway succeeded in my original plan to gather up support. I am beginning to recognize certain people in my travels, and hopefully, I in turn am beginning to become recognized. This will make achieving my goals even easier when the time approaches.