Excerpts from the Lady Songstress' Diary

[Yuhkon]

3rd Ire of Phyrrys, Year 94 of the Seventh Age
Today, I found my perfect right-hand man, the one I had been looking for for months. Of course, Gerillar seemed a worthy candidate at first, but he turned out to be too hot-headed; I can't risk him bungling things one day and get me killed because he lost his temper. Now this man I discovered yesterday, he is much superior; a true man of action.
It was late afternoon and I was stretched out on the chaise longue in my command tent, finally done with the day's mind-numbing chain of audiences, pleas and councils. It was the kind of day that has a bright sun that does nothing to heat the land, and a wind that does nothing to move the leaves - in all aspects a wasting, unmoving day. I was just about to uncork my second bottle of dry white Lletya Vintage in an attempt to raise my spirits when I heard bustling outside my tent. There were some commanding shouts, after which one of my oafish guards fell backwards through the flap, his halberd clattering onto the dirt. Over his legs stepped a tall and lanky but remarkably hunched, hooded individual. He made sure to step firmly onto my guard's face with his bare foot before coming to a standstill a metre or two in front of me. The flap was left open, the low afternoon sun casting him as little more than a silhouette. He took a minuscule bow, grinned under his hood, and greeted me with "Venviall Puthrr, at your service my Lady Songstress." Even in speaking such an innocent sentence, his voice reeked of malice and wickedness, further forthified by a horrid, acidic but unidentifiable stench that seemed to seep from his every pore and filled the tent within seconds.
Instinctive curiosity drove me to shift in my seat, but I checked myself before I let on too much. I raised an eyebrow and replied. "And what service may that be, friend?"
The stranger took another step forward, completely unintimidated.
"Why, it's very simple, my lady. I deal in vision."
"Appearance?"
"Yes, vision." He raised his head a little so I could see. To my astonishment, his eye sockets contained no eyes. Before I could comment on this, however, he continued:
"Does my lady care to try a sample? I brought some of my ware with me, you see."
I should have known better, but for once in my life curiosity got the better of my vigilance. He was so wrapped in shadow, his voice was so raspy and tattered, his empty sockets so unfathomably deep, that in the completely still air inside my tent he seemed to me death incarnate, sending his putrid tendrils of pestilence and hopeless mortality to every corner of my soul. Light seemed to simply disappear upon its approach of him. I could not help but say, "Come closer then and show me, stranger."
"Oh, I do not need to come any closer, your Lady Songstress. My reach extends farther than that." He reached into his robe with a bony hand, and before I knew it, the ground right in front of me exploded with the sound of shattering glass. A plume of toxic green fumes reached three metres high and I saw the ground bubble as if being corroded. As the fumes forced themselves into my nose, they seemed to light my skull on fire and shrivel my lungs. I brought my hands to my temples in extreme pain and collapsed onto my knees and then onto the ground. The world blurred and blurred and was spiralling slowly towards nothingness. I heard him approaching me, all the time cackling hoarsely.
But he underestimated my constitution. Somewhere I was still conscious and as he drew a knife from his belt and made ready to lunge, I reached through the fog in my mind and grabbed hold of his leg and pulled violently. He fell flat and I got up, as woozy as I had ever been, but in possession of my mind. I drew my sword and without hesitation slashed at his throat. He managed to curb my death strike with his wrist, and upon sinking into his flesh my sword started to hiss and smoke and I saw it melting before my eyes, dropping it in surprise. The stranger crawled away from me, leaving a trail of blood. He reached into his robe again but with a swift kick to the head I knocked him unconscious. Afterwards, I must have stood panting and coughing for close on half an hour, slowly regaining my senses as the fumes dissipated, before summoning a guard to clap him in irons.

That evening, I visited him in the stockades and asked him if he wished to be my second-in-command. He smiled triumphantly as if that had always been his plan, exposing pointed teeth stained green and purple.
"It would be the greatest honour, my Lady Songstress."
"Excellent. I could use someone with a reach as long as yours, Venviall Puthrr. But I must ask: what was in that vial?"
"Why, it is just as I said, my Lady Songstress. I deal in vision. What was in that vial was exactly what you saw, nothing more, nothing less." He stared at me eyelessly. A freezing chill ran down my spine, but I regained my composure quickly. I saw great potential. I stepped closer and put my hand on his bony shoulder.
"Well then, Puthrr. What more can you show me?"
And Venviall Puthrr grinned.



27th Rintra, Year 96 of the Seventh Age
The High Apothecary hides all manner of peculiarities in his study quarters, ranging from harmless as a Pawya to lethal-in-37-ways, and I have long since ceased to be surprised by anything he conjures from his tattered sleeves. But today he brought me something that showed me he still has the ability to amaze me.
It was late afternoon, and I had just sent Marwyn away with some orders for his training ground sergeants. I was about to light up my special pipe when I heard muffled noises coming from outside. Through the great double doors to my Keep, I heard lots of shuffling, accompanied by muffled grunts and curses and high-pitched yelps of protest. One of the doors was pressed open slowly, and before he could fully reveal himself I could already smell the High Apothecary by the amalgamation of putrid poisons and foul acids that precedes him wherever he goes. Still cursing profusely, Venviall managed to wriggle himself and whatever he was dragging along through the doors. He fell flat on his face as he shot through, as did what I could now see were two gnomes. The High Apothecarry got back up quickly and managed to grab the gnomes by their collars before they could escape back outside.
"Hold these for me, will ya?" he snapped at two of my door guards. The guards took the gnomes from him and held them in a chokehold with their spears, where they continued to struggle for freedom. Venviall turned back to me, wringing his hands.
"Ahem... My Lady Songstress, I have returned from my expedition into the eastern forest," he said with a tone meant to evoke curiosity; in truth, he had already aroused my interest the moment he flopped onto my floor with two struggling gnomes.
"I can see that, High Apothecary. And I see you have not returned empty-handed."
"Indeed I have not, Lady Royse. I found these two in a thicket close to the northern shore. They would have been very well-hidden, were it not for the empty nut shells we found littered around the entrance. They're hungry buggers, they are. The girl one bit off a part of my wrist." He pulled back his sleeve to show me a still-bleeding wound on his gnarled wrist. He chuckled. The female gnome shot me a quick look of ferocity and triumph before resuming her wriggling.
"I am not interested in the dietary habits of gnomes, High Apothecary, however disgusting they may be," said I, inspecting my fingernails. "Do these two have any use beyond breaking the winter day monotony?" For the first time the captives now looked at me. At the sight of me, I saw some of their fighting spirit leave them. But only a bit.
"They certainly do, my Lady Songstress. You see, three men died trying to pull these out of their hiding places. Two more ran out wounded and screaming, one with a bottom full of arrows, the other missing three fingers and an eye." Venviall smiled at the thought.
"So these gnomes can fight? They look scrawny enough to me," I said.
"No, no fighting. Traps, my Lady Songstress. Their hideout was laced with all manner of deadly traps. Quite ingenious ones, too. We couldn't venture back in and had to torch the place to smoke them out. And in the fight to subdue them, they almost killed another one my men. Reversed his kneecap, very painful. These little rascals were carrying some advanced weaponry, too." He dug something out of his satchel. "I managed to snatch this before it went off," he continued. "It's a bomb. Very sophisticated." He held out the object; it was comprised of an explosive shell the size and shape of a large pear, attached to a wooden handle.
"Lady Royse, I wish to ask you permission to keep these two in my laboratories instead of sending them to the stockades. Give me some time, and I am sure I can... persuade them to work with me. Together we could achieve great... things." The High Apothecary licked his lips with his stained tongue and grinned. I could see that his mind was already tapping into some of his twisted fantasies. The gnomes did not look relieved at all at his prospect, despite being spared the stockades - the rebellion on their faces made way for fear. I was sure Venviall had already given them a taste of his ideas of persuasion on the way here.
"And what do our guests think of your proposition?" I inquired, shifting my gaze between the two gnomes. Neither of them said anything, both opening their mouths only to bare their teeth at me. I chuckled.
"High Apothecary, you may show our guests to their quarters. And please, do make sure they are settled nice and comfortably. Give them a little time, and I am sure they will soon grow loathe to leave."
Venviall smiled, bowed curtly and beckoned the guards to take the gnomes. As soon as they were outside again, they resumed their protests, and I am glad the High Apothecary's labs are a little ways away from my chambers. As fruitful as I know the High Apothecary's new project will be, I do not wish to lose any of my sleep over them.