A neat rothe-hide book contains the following notations

Journal of Somniis X. Szul - formerly of Luskan and Arabel-

----------------------------------------------- 13th Tarsahk, 153

It is time to write.

Two months of folding bed-sheets and cooking rothe and mushroom meals for the Macastas is enough. Noli has been generous with her time and patience. My brain is starving.

Long story short. The youthful traumas and meta-magical adventures of Luskan with my brother are gone. My demon days in Arabel are gone. Though I be unwilling, I am here in Sanctuary.

Kepler is gone. Sorrell is still enslaved. I cannot face the Sentinel. No word, nothing. The cruelty of the 'Dark sickens me. Not since meeting that foul halfling, Durger Bale, in Arabel have I felt so violated by 'reason'. I can control what happens to me through arcane weaving. Mystra is a great boon. Corellon.... where are you?

Politics has bored me forever. It always feels like there are far greater forces controlling events in our Realm, controlling the hearts and minds of souls - especially in this city. My convalescence has given me time to heal my body from the ravages of the Drider and the Drow. My short hermitage in the Last Stand has only strengthened my resolve to protect this city. Surely a cabal of war wizards can decipher, redefine, and use the artifacts of the ancient city of Dunwarren to the advantage its growing citizenry? Despite what Sorrell and Kepler might think - I will begin work for the Spellguard. The original intentions of Melinda Serena sound honourable and workable in theory. Let us see what becomes of this.

The main gates must be fixed. Trade and food sources must be consolodated. I wonder how long Canal fisherman, mushroom farmers, and rothe herders can supply the Macastas and places like the Last Stand with exquisite produce to feed a city in a constant state of cold war?

So much to do. My eye is weeping and infected again. I think it best that I open a bank account and start saving for the license to open my new business.

Notes - Re-Read that book written by Aleczumberzeil, esp. about the Appetite and the negative energy plane in Dunwarren. - Re-read Bilmfrickten's account.

- S.X.S.

13th Tarsahk, 153 (later)

Helping the Spellguard clean out a section of the Sewers we encountered a Bespectacled Chosen that tried to dissuade us from entering further into that section of the polluted machine.

Among the spiders and gas there was a rather large Chosen under lock and key."Champion of the Chosen", is what the Bespectacled One roared then set it on us. I was knocked unconscious but the others managed to chase it away. Despite my sickness, my body remains whole. A blessing I suppose.

Bold the Chosen are of late. In the Streets of Lower I am told, though I have not seen such streets for a long long time.

Perhaps the Appetite awakens. Ever the threat. Never seen.

- S.X.S.

14th Tarsahk, 153

Ghuandaran rebels. Who is this Ghuanadar, really? The Elder Eye.. That Which Lurks.. He Who Will Not Be Spelled ,, as Jacia put it. I have been asleep for a long time.

The dreams have started again. It goes like this: Images. A re-visit to my nights alone in Arabel. Through the Hullack Forest rapidly into the Three Bars Inn. Bale is there, that damned halfling, and he burns the Three Bars. Adepts of the Eye. Targets: Torlando Rayne, Astarn King, Cole, Lucian. Useless, useless names.

Then the battle between One-Eye and Corellon. The aftermath. Legend of the Underworld. Silver Fire burning into a Great Eye. Then it comes! Floating down the hall. Into my room. Into my head. And I awaken.

Notes: - Sabah is addressed as 'Elder' by her circle. Nature type according to Stinger. A merchant that despises the city. Deals the sorcere outside the gates - whatever that means. The Herbalist Text. A Medicine Chest. An Alchemy pot. A Corrupted Archive. Bloodroot. Devilry. Eight Stages of Grief. The Montezzi Fortress before Montezzi. The massacre. What to do - what do I do with this?

- Bilmfrickten is the key text apparently. Undead Beholder. Jacia seeks to write a rebuttal. Why?

- S.X.S.

15th Tarsahk, 153

I want to be a Spellguard Agent.

Why? How?

1. In memory of my brother. We shared a bond. He is gone, but I will celebrate him in my research!

Forgive me Corellon - but to find our people's truth in this life in the underworld, I must be active inside and outside the city. I have not the Tel'quessir flair for true language, though I was born in the silent heart of the truelands. The forests must grow in our minds first. Surely this is the way of the Seldarine - esp. Corellon's artistic flair.

He is gone. He is gone.

That bond - I am fulfilling now. Mystra bless my research efforts.

2. Aspirant Jarius said something like: "Write a research paper on a topic that will assist the Spellguard, and Sanctuary. Should they take interest in your topic you will proceed to the next level." - the key here is being 'qualified' to conduct research of the kind I have in mind. And having talked with Grigorii Malchenko I can sense his absolute loathing of what necromancy entails. Rightly so. And yet I sense that necromancy is not the key to the depths of magic here! More; like an abjuration for natural mental activity. Natural connection to the flow of Torillean life, that is.

Notes - Magic, Divinity, Psionics: Correlate the findings of Bilmfrickten and Zav Castain in regards to Svirfnebli technology and the Chosen worship of this Undead Beholder. Consult writers on the abberants here in the dark. Consult the Society.

- Animatron Divination Machine: look for other libraries in the Dark holding details of Dunwarren mind sciences (if infact the gnomes did explore mental domination, mind control, divination, clarity, protections, arcane defenses enhancements, in the making of animatrons - can it be applied to other biologies? metal and flesh. Aleczumberzeil points to the entrapment of elemental souls in the animatrons. Who can re-animate animatrons now - imprisoning the elemental, without choosing the path of negative energy?

"It is here in Dunwarren, the Tomb of Stone, that we confront the final reality of all mortal life."

-Aleczumberzeil te Esoterotept, A Tomb of Stone.., Sanctuary Library

- Trade circles: Kua-Toa <-> Mur <-> Sanctuary <-> Traensyr. Who controls it?

- Number of Islands on the Dark Lake. How big is the Dark Lake? Find out.

- Exploration by boat. The way Drin showed me from Mur when Harrison had us move steel for him. There must be other boat owners with knowledge of the waters. Find the sea dogs of the Underdark!

- S.X.S.

23rd Tarsahk, 153

I feel so torn apart.

Truth is more lucid than any espionage skill I could ever develop for the Great Light of the Seldarine. Blinded I am. The gods are uncanny, but I will try to explain what happened, to draw the threads of pure intent onto the path I walk.

Three events:

1. Milmamir died in that horrible nest and I feel so responsible. Only Aniril was brave enough to stay while the others fled. The great and noble Milmamir. I sense that he has left us in order to spread the gifts of his teaching across Sanctuary. His supply of wands made the difference when the Moanderites attacked Tyr, I am sure of it. He left them for us.

It is almost like Ilmater knew and placed his servent's life and wares into a future space where his blessings would save many. Though the good people of New Dunwarren are dead, the defenders of the Triad and the Crying God are now in a position of opportunity to rebuild, despite the curse on the hill.

2. Makabi, servant of Savras lead the defense in the Temple cutting down many foes, and flashing his blade in the face of a most powerful servant of Moander , a writhing snake-headed witch! The Ordinants, Bobbus, Hrothgar, Robert Blackthorne, Vestilian, even the timid Indira, many others all fought with incredible fortitude in the face of overwheming strength of arms seen in the Lizardmen and their Prophetess.

Makabi has the golden divination eye. That is obvious to me now. I must meditate on his words. In Makabi is an answer to the maddening negative shifts and portents of malign power that Aleczumberzeil so eloquently noted about Sanctuary. Moander is a Deep Lizard come to feed and die at the Gates of Sanctuary, surely. Makabi is the map of Sanctuary's rise to grace.

3. Elina , Adair of the Dalelands. Her head in the kit-bag of a presumably fallen drow leader, Jhael (was it?). The inelegant but knowing, Vladimir managed to save her. A full body resurrection through the agency of the Earthlord Grumbar and his servants in the Hold again opened my heart up further. Vladimir is right - coin cannot buy virtue, and Elrina Adair holds the quality in it's purest form. She denies it, yields it, yet it stays by her side in her every word. Sanctuary needs more of these brave souls.

Mystra, Corellon - bring more of these brave and good souls to Sanctuary again. Our Council falters and our leaders are being removed rapidly.

I have not the heart to continue without truth. I fear injustice and the fall of my soul into the mire of self-pity and pettiness, rather than I do death. This is what I knew when I was sixteen years old. It has taken me twelve years and an endless tumble into darkness to realise it.

Bless you

Milmamir Tal Quin Makabi. Elina Adair.

My Cormamin runs through it all,

- Somniis Szul Holding true to the Divination Eye

Mirtul 7, 153 Sanctuary Reckoning

This is turning into another survivor's guide. So be it.

Mystra, Corellon... make me an instrument of your common will, if such a will you do share.

Two things that have strengthened my will:

1. John Keel - his words to me after Phandiates and before the Rebellion. The last words of Reynolds in the Watch-house. (How do I know that one is not connected to the other? Is this illithid really dead? What drives Scheps if not Phandiates, who had Azzam as his pet?)

2. Zamora Quyven, Boar-Hunter Dirge-Singer to the Fallen Heroes of Forgotten Wars. Her impromptu memories recalled Kepler's works in explicit detail. She stung my conscience on the underpinnings of the Spellguard. Her bravery in the crypts released the crying souls of Sanctuary from their unwanted langour. She intentionally kindled friendship through the veneer of my spite and reluctance.

It is always the people that lift me up. Not always the longing for revenge against aberrants and tyrants that simply want to see bloodshed. That is the problem. The illithid crave a soul and they have none, collectively or individually. So they take brains intent on accumulating earthly remains, and over a millenia have come to believe this is the true path to power and godhood. So blind is the illithid Mind, whatever it may be called.

Something prods the Chosen to action. Perhaps the Eyeless One Awakens. Perhaps it never slept?

Regardless, my sentience depends on the stories and lifeblood of the people who choose to attempt to remain clean and cling to truth. The fight is on as the thralls are revealed, and the power hungry do not wish to relinquish their power.

As Chuckling Bill says:

"I've had enough of uniforms."

This is my Sanctuary for now.