[This collection of notes is from the many scrolls of musical scores Egon Rosenqvist keeps in cases across his chest. The titles are visible on labels tied to the cases.]

A scroll of music marked "Waterdeep Drinking Song"

Many blank and partially completed scrolls of music.

An incomplete fiddle piece entitled "Defence of the Gates"

A raucous battle song named "Go for the Eyes":

"I may be no tactician, but I would surmise, a bloody good plan is to GO FOR THE EYES!

If they can't see to hit you, you're safer at least, so long as you don't face some amorphous beast Say, an ooze, with no features to pierce with a hit, But fear not, just be simple and SMASH IT TO BITS!

And swift stabs may not deal with some loathsome undead, but you'll stymie his aim if you LOP OFF HIS HEAD!

So shoot from the darkness, strike with surprise, ready your crossbow, and GO FOR THE EYES!"

A harmonica tune marked "Watchman's Requiem"

An upbeat, whimsical tune marked with "Blessing of the Unicorn" and a crescent moon symbol.

Another scroll labeled with a crescent, labelled "Healer's Hope"

Journal entries. [the journal is a small yet sturdy book, with a unicorn's head designed burned into the cover as pokerwork. Egon keeps it in a locked and watertight hide case on his bandolier.]

Day 1 of my time in Sanctuary. "Ooze. Hellish, gelatinous aberrations of nature! Damn near cost me my life, after one of them knocked me unconscious into a pool of fetid water. Were it not for my companions, I would have succumbed to death by drowning, in the slimy grip of that foul sewer.

Day 2. Narrowly escaped becoming a bloodless corpse at the mantibles of a horde of gigantic ticks, and resolved to stay within the walls until such time as I acquired tougher armour and greater skill at arms.

Later, in Upper, I heard a mighty commotion from the staircase leading up. I donned armor and rushed to the city gates, lest it be an event worth recording, or a threat I could aid in averting. Discovered the gates under attack by a swarm of Umber Hulks, and did what I could to assist the defence, while attempting to salvage any items of use off the fallen beasts.

With the Hulk threat staved off, some citizens chose to pursue them into the tunnels, but exhausted, it seemed best I withdraw.

Many days Later:

My time down here's been affecting me. I'm as not hungry for a tale as I once was, there is too much danger down here not to be wary of any adventure. I have taken to wearing thick leather armor when I do not need freedom of movement to cast my spells. Better a blow should strike a tanned hide than my own. Should I find chain or plate worth using, I may even consider such.

I narrowly escaped harassment by the Montezzis after wandering into a meeting of their House when some happy-go-lucky halfling thought it was a bar! I fled to Upper, abandoned my cloak, and had my armour dyed in new, brighter colours. I hope that the Halfling came out of that unscathed but from meeting him it seems likely. He's got quite the silver tongue and could likely talk the legs off a giant spider, then persuade it to dance a jig!

I have lately developed an interest in alchemy, after stubling across a foul but insightful goblin text in a pile of abandoned goods in Lower. It contains vague instructions on the making of weapons of stench and distraction. I have begun experimenting with reagents, as these may prove useful to escame a rowdy audience!

On the subject of goblins, a group in Lower hired myself and a young woman to investigate a situation in lower. They claimed they were "good goblins". I was initially supicious, but the creatures had many a chance to betray us, or knife me while I lay prone from a wounding, and they never took it. Instead, one healed my wounds hearbs, and warned me not to be such an idiot again.

I returned the favour with arcane healing of my own, and that granted by the Unicorn, although they found it bizarre that she would wish me to always offer aid to others in exchange for my power.

We faced a fierce battle with hordes of foes, and though my spells were exhausted and my inspiration drained near the end, I fought on with bow and with dagger, 'til we reached Sanctuary again.

On the surface I would never have considered fighting at the side of a monster, but down here, any ally is welcome. The goblins are brutal but honourable, and I have seen one even hand gold to a beggar boy, rather than threaten him with devouring. I respect Gexab and his band, and have composed a small song to that end. It is entitled "Some of Them Goblins Ain't So Bad".

Sadly my unconventional comradeship has earned the ire of the half-orc running the Beacon, and I am now barred from resting there. One would think with one with the heritage of an monstrous orc would not be so quick to judge on type.

There have been many events worth recording of late, but I have had little time to note them. It was with great sadness the I witnessed the loss of a comrade to the blade of a Goblin skirmisher before I could stabilise his condition. A paladin never retreats, never surrenders and this stubborn adherence to his code prevented him falling back to allow me to aid him. We laid him down in the caves, and took what combative items he had on him to aid in our own fights against the fiends down here. I think he'd have respected that.

More positively, my intervention did save members of our raiding party from mortal wounds on several occasions. In addition, I have perfected the use of choking dust to disrupt the enemy while we deal with their frontliners. A pouch hurled well into the rear of a force is of much use in silencing casters, especially ones of low physical resilience, such as goblins.

The battle did dent my supplies of the powder somewhat, but I was able to recover a few unused packages held by fallen goblins. In order to ensure a steady supply, I am aiming to establish Clubmoss plantations in both the sand caverns of the Druids and another suitable location near Lower. Also in my pursuit of alchemical knowledge, I have been seeking support from various groups for expedition support and supplies. I have cotacted both the Seekers and a Kobold explorer to offer my services in exchange for resources or support in my explorations.

In conversation with a fellow bard, I suggested that we may do well to work in concert to uncover the story of the late "Prince" Rinaldo Montezzi. I heard rumours he had some "mirror lady" aiding him, and it may be that there was a darker side to this man that even his reputation suggested. Such a tale would be a great one to sing indeed.

My practice of summoning spells has recently paid off, and I am now able to personally call summons of the first and second circles. The only hidrance towards these are that I cannot cast them easily in armor, so I have to choose between using these unarmored, or staying with my usual stratagem of enhancing my allies before a fight. Thus far I have found my first circle spells to call a dust mephit when focused with a stone, and a dun-coloured immobile jelly when attuned to a blob of jelly. From the adivice of the Summoner, Natharik, it appears my goddess-given affinity with these spells allows them to call beast as if I used a spell one circle higher. Logically, then, a focused second circle summons of mine should call the same beasts he himself uses. Elementals.... How interesting.

Further research and accumulation of reagents will be required, as well as perhaps a storage facility for my rapidly amassing supplies.

I am forsaken. My divine spells fail to cast, my prayers are unanswered, and all because I joined a mission to recapture a dangerous criminal.

He had taken children hostage for some dark ritual, and as my allies attacked and killed him, they apparently instantly died.

I know this only from reports of my party, but several are holy warriors I'd feel inclined to trust. I never saw, not could prevent this myself, as I was blacked out on the cavern floor, from being caught in the blast of a shock trap triggered by a careless comrade.

It seems that just the association with indirectly causing the deaths of innocents has incurred my patron's wrath. How can I attempt to atone for a misdeed I could not have prevented? Or should I leave the Unicorn's service and accept that I do not have the devotion to serve her, if the actions of my choice of associates can reflect so badly on what little good I must have accomplished?

Joy! My divine powers are regained, my prayers once more answered. Again the Unicorn grants me beetles to flank my foes, and empowers my spells of healing.It appears my good works have redeemed me.

I have put these boons to work once more, supporting my comrades in battle, rushing to heal and divert the enemy's attention.

As for my own abilities, i once again recall how to produce wands, and have let it be known I craft them to order. I've made a few sales of minor curative wands, selling below the usual price, and reaping a tidy profit. It is both my duty and a personal benefit as a healer to supply these cheaply and easily, as they ease my burden of healing in combat. I shall endeavor to learn to cure medium wounding, as these wands are in great demand by mages it seems.

Have finally discovered the secret of making more powerful acid bombs, and improved my access to alchemical resources by setting up a new plantation of clubmoss.

Finally, I have found a hidden settlement in the sewers beneath Lower, while travelling with some elves. It's primitive but well-defended, and sports a place to rest and some chance to acquire supplies while exploring the tunnels. Sadly, the tunnels are most dangerous of late, with Chosen around in unprecedented numbers.

Have taken on a few more commissions for wands and works, but lost several hundred cost due to a miscalculation fo the cost of components. On the upside, that same customer has agreed to purchase his next wand at a more reasonable price. Furthermore, I have been offered a very useful bardic ring for the price of six hundred gold by a Councillor. Should I save up the cash, this would definitely be worthwile.

Books worth studying to learn the history of Dunwarren: Interviews with The Scholar - A study of necromantic ethic A Refutation of "The Tomb of Stone" The Tomb of Stone A Brief History of Dunwarren.

Have had little time to scibe my thoughts recently, as the city's been in a rather chaotic state. My idea to plant a large crop of food and alchemical plants was met with interest my the Archibalds and Councillaor Dentra, anthought the Councillor informs me that he's already working on the idea. I offered to recover any seeds he needs, though that may now be hard with Lower closed off.

Shortly after that discussion, I was hired by the Spellguard for a mission into the Bowels of the Machine. I gladly took the job, for a chance to explore the Machine, and fight the damned Chosen. Even if it did mean fighting alongside a Banite. Hardest fight I'd ever had in my life! I'd supplied wands to some of the party, and made up some for myself, and thought I was well set with potions. Hah, I thought....

The Machine was filled with elementals and malfuctionaing Animatrons, but we got through them alright. The Crumpler bolts helped. We found our route, and entering thorugh a grate, battled hordes of Chosen and their leaders before reaching our goal. As the Agents completed their repairs, we heard a veritable army of Chosen bearing down on us! Hastily rigging barricades and setting batlle lines, we prepared to face them.

Although we held a line for a time, enough got through that we broke into skirmishes, and I was forced to draw a knife and hold one back while Nate kept me healed. I'm not planning to do that again without some heavy mail!

Eventually, we took them down, but at the cost of one of our number, a young woman called Lilith. I do not know is she was raised, but we did recover the body. We fought our way through some scattered animatrons, undead and elementals to the surface. I believe that at that point the only healing we had left was the half-dozen charges in my crystal ring.

In the end, the gold didn't even cover the healing supplies we used, but I was breathing, and we'd killed a good number of Chosen that could have threatened Upper. I was battered but proud. I might prefer turning back evil with wit, but sometimes, there's nothing for it but a blade. Our efforts were far from unrewarded though, and the Order granted us each a confiscated artifact from their vaults in thanks for our service.

Well, recent events have been quite exciting! An old man, apparently the former mayor of Sanctuary, was rescued from the Unseelie by a group of adventurers. One of them, the Flameblade Clane Kenthel, has told me part of the tale leading to this rescue. Although interrupted by some business of his hunting a man he deems "vile", he has promised to send me the rest of his tale as a note. I have also found that the elf, Peri, was involved, and I am trying to locate this lady to hear her parts of this epic.

One thing I did not remember to note earlier, was my training of a young (for an elf at least) elf named Sa'la in how to use sorcerous power much akin to my own method of casting. I gave her some basic instruction in how to control her power a little, and explained the dangers to mages here. Chiefly, Mage Eaters and annoyed Spellguard Agents.

We appear to be piked from many different directions. The Chosen are offering a way to the surface for anyone willing to help them wipe out Sewer Town, as they want to eat the Deep Gnome survivors of Dunwarren. When fighting our way through Chosen threatening the place when we found a portal leading to another part of the Machine. A Chosen Ambassador made us this offer. When the Paladin leading us, refused, him and his troops attacked. We fled and held them at the portal. We won, barely. Three of us died, but there were scrolls of raising in the Ambassador's chest, thankfully, so I've got a chance to get stabbed in new and interesting ways. Wish I could get the hang of crafting wands again...

Budoc showed me a couple of notes he found, indicating there are giant Deep Lizards and manticores set loose in the Machine by agents of an Ambassador and a person known as S.V.

Oh, and just to dump a ton more of rotheshite on the town, a squad of Drow turned up demanding 200 slaves in a tenday or they wipe out the city. Bloody Ghaunadurans, starting a war they couldn't win and leaving us with the mess. I've got a plan, horrible thoguh it is. I'm thinking we could infect Traensyr with the Rat Pox.

Well, as Milmamir likes to say, "with faith, all things are possible". I tend to find that heavy armaments help things along though, so I'm going to devote a lot more time to prayer, training and alchemy. Lurue, give us hope, as right now, it's all we seem to have going for us.

STILL trying to lay my hands on some consecration equipment. So far I've tried: Grumbar's Hold The Ascenscionists in the Sewers. New Dunwarren. The Helmite Shrine. The Sacred Cavern of Ibrandul None of these temples are known to be hostile to my faith, but none sell such tools. No market trader of Upper, Lower of Sewer town does either. It does not help that I cannot even tell what the items look like. Perhaps I would do well to ask around priests I know of.

Been too busy for this record lately. I have signed up with Archibald as a squire, but have been turned down on a mission in favour of more experienced retainers. Hopefully I'll find some tasks of use there.

Penned a few more library texts.

The best news though, is that I have enough fine casting control to be able to create wands once more, so I am back in the business. I could do with saving up in case I decide to purchase that tablet on alchemy.

The city's gone crazed with rebellion, Watch fighing Watch, Spellguard attacks, gangs in the streets... Every day I wonder, do I offer my skills to saving Sanctuary, or just get the hells out? Return to my traveller's roots and join up with the Druids, roaming the Underdark in defense of nature? The closest I came was in joining an ill-fated mission to recover a strange plant for the Faceless one. Miss Oneshoe was lost, presumed devoured by umberhulks along with the plant during our escape. It was only due to my posession of an invisibility wand and whispered warning to run if the duergar band turned on us that three of us made it out alive. Arkhaman and Wilthur were captured, but Arkhaman managed to free them after we regrouped.

Recieved a most disturbing letter from Ebon. It seems there's a greater threat to us all than even the damned civil war. And yet, here I stand with little in my supply cases, having spent so much in that expediton.

And yet... I gained things more valuable than mere healing devices. Arcane experience sufficient to finally master the third circle weavings I've been trying to wrap my will around. And faith. Surrounded by ghouls, desperately clubbing them back while we tried ways to blow the obstruction to our flight, I channeled the Unicorn's power to turn the abominations back in fear. I was doubting that I could bring much hope to this blighted city as a mere chaplain, and yet, with faith, skill and sharp intellect, I dealt with the most puzzling obstructions to our goals.

Faith: Lurue's wards of elemental protection saved me from a fireballing, and her power turned back the zombies. Skill: My arcane wands got four of us clear of the Greys. My skill at spells gave us blades that harmed the undead. My skill at arms held off Ghouls. Intellect: A spell of grease, ignited with a fire flask, blew out both barriers we encountered and a pile of rubble that had trapped us while the undead closed in. My escape plan got enough of us clear to rescue the others.

I've hope to get through these times, or at the least, the grim hope that I'll meet my end in a way that saves the city from the Appetite or itself. My wand business goes somwhat too well in this conflict, but I need the gold. I need supplies. I Need to be prepared for a great battle once more.

[a short dirge for pan-pipes is scribed below. It is entitled "Lament for a Druid"]

Once again, the druids offfer insight. As a reward for my aid to them, the Faceless one presented me with an unusual helmet. It appears to be military equipment made for an unknown army's battle-healers. It is enhanced with various magics to aid perception, from granting vision in the dark, to magnifying vision to aid in stitching wounds, to spotting the best point on an enemy to inflict a blow. Strangely for such a relic, it appears attuned to my own magics and personality.

The Faceless talked with me about my goals, my fears, my hopes. He suggested I may wish to leave the city and join the druids' Circle as a wanderer. The city's got so rotten I may accept his offer. And yet... Lurue teaches hope, and I am her chaplain. I may leave yes, but only if there is more good I can do, more hope I can bring outside the city than within. I've put out a notice offering to apply bandages and the like to any who bring them.