Readying 14, 937 C.Y.
It has been an eventful few days. But the worst of it is that what is happening will not be a short train ride, but rather a long nightmare. Bahamut is missing and for some reason the Lord Mayor has involved a group of people of his own choosing…one of whom is me. The morning after the dinner party and introduction to my fellow draftees we boarded the train.
The device is amazing. The young half orc Delwin was excited to get a tour, as was our cleric Eve. I was mildly interested but my general dread at the situation made my excitement less than it should have been.
My dread also was focused on an ill defined foreboding. The feeling that something was coming that should best remain gone. My fears were quickly confirmed when we discovered small ferret like things with human faces stealing objects from the compartments. Officer Vayne is to be commended, she is observant and swift. But there is a blind spot that is ironic given our near future circumstance. She is not aware of her own family history. I noticed the resemblance the moment I saw her. She has her mothers’ dedication to justice and her fathers’ charisma. Although she turns the last outward like a bit of a weapon.
I did not know her parents well. I do not know anyone well. But I did encounter them when studying a bit of her uncle’s work in researching the horrible thought that I may have been made along those lines. Thankfully I was able to disprove that. I am getting ahead of myself. I suppose only I will ever read this, but still.
We followed the creatures into the final three baggage cars where we found man made aberrations that were mostly apelike. We defeated them but some gave chase to their handler. They subdued him in the last car but he turned out to be a living puppet with the face of Teivryn Vayne.
Teivryn Vayne was a genius and a mad man. He was believed killed when he tried to take over his family crime empire at the same time his brother went to the city watch and the authorities came down on the family holdings. Teivryn made monsters. Not just monsters really…he made living insults to the gods. He viewed all living things as materials and himself as a maker who could improve on all things and re-craft it all. It has been decades since he was assumed dead. I do not think the wisest assumed he was dead, only the hopeful. The wisest did not want to think about the alternative and promptly sowed the seeds of disaster.
When our group member Miss Sevestrian mentioned that he was officer Vayne’s uncle the good miss Vayne said that was not possible she had no family.
She does not know. Of course she doesn’t. I would not tell my child. I would keep them safe. And over the years others must have assumed she knew and avoid the subject out of kindness. And others still have kept it from her willingly. Much as I have done in the last 48 hours.
Teivryn left us a surprise in the form of a plant creature that tore its’ way out of a henchman we had in custody. But the other dreadful development is that he had the puppet. That is not his work. It is the work of the puppet maker. I have also investigated his existence in search of my origins. I thought he was a myth. I wanted to think he was a myth. I am fairly certain that he is not my maker. But I can not rule out some common element in his history and mine.
We are arriving back in Greyhawk City with most of the people on this train oblivious to the problems we encountered. We moved rather quickly and intentionally hiding it all from prying eyes. Some of us will stay here and look for evidence of Teivryn in the city since we have indications he has returned. Others will travel a short few days beyond the walls to three small farming villages where it seems he harvested some of the humans to make his creatures.
So far what I know of his methods and history from my personal investigation over a decade ago has not been needed. I do plan on telling them what I know when we get to the city. Until then I will wonder if I will ever have the peace of solitude again. It is not that I dislike the company. Actually it is very much the opposite. Sometimes the traps of enjoyment are the most subtle and painful.