Expeditions

Day 32

I've had good fortune thus far. The radiant quasielemental proved much easier to charm than expected. My guide through Air warned me that Salt's opposing position to Radiance would be my downfall - he's surely wrong. As 'intelligent' as I'm warned the denizens are, I doubt they've ever seen normal light, much less pure radiance. I will give this no more thought.

The Chiseled Estate is an impressive place - the delicate architecture is beautiful. Cryonax's cronies accepted my tribute greedily, and in return I have been allowed to rest here. The Cloak masks my body heat, so Cryonax probably won't even know I'm here - at least, not before I'm long gone. Soon, the real challenge - stealing an icebarge from a paraelemental lord.

Day 34

I've done it! The edge of Precipice is now out of view, and my radiant and I are sailing through the Frigid Void. The paraelementals didn't expect resonant magic, and three were shattered before they could react. My radiant managed to hold them off with concussive damage while I prepped the icebarge, and we were off. For good measure, I torched their remaining barges, though it cost me a spell key. The chase that followed was almost comical: a flurry of ice mephits - the only things that could keep up with us - flew after us, only to be partially melted by my radiant's rays. Within an hour, we were off Precipice's edge, and plummeting through the border of Vacuum.

My radiant now scans from the bow to spot the salt flats, while I get some much-earned rest. Soon, I will reach Salt.

Day 45

A close call today, followed by unending frustration. My radiant awoke me abruptly, and just as I was going to punish it for its disrespect, it shined its rays off the bow, making a small white circle in the sky. It took me a moment to register that we were crashing toward the Salt Flats at breakneck speeds. The barge, made of ice, was already starting to disintegrate, the cold of Vacuum being the only thing that kept it from instantly evaporating in the water-hungry emptiness. I quickly prepared a spell, which allowed me to descend safely to the surface, my radiant floating behind me. There was, of course, no noise when the barge crashed - and I doubt there was much vibration either. The barge seemed to fragment and vanish at the moment of impact, with only a shallow dish in the salt as evidence that it has ever existed at all. If, for some ridiculous reason, Cryonax wants revenge for the destruction of his icebarges, my tracks will be well covered.

Adding insult to injury, I discovered that everything not stored under the Cloak, including the ink that the merchant in Air assured me would remain liquid even in dry Salt had hardened into a coal-like lump. I must use magical dictation keep this record of my progress. I'm glad it occurred to me to prepare it, just in case.

Divinations pointed us toward the Crystal Range, where this mad quest can finally be completed. We shall set off tomorrow.

Day 50

A strange creature attacked us today. Unlike most denizens of Salt, it was not in the least crystalline. It was black, and almost impossible to see, even with the glow of my radiant to guide me. The few glimpses I got shows a sleek, muscular form. It was not stealthy - had it been, I would surely have fallen to its talons. Using bladed boots (or perhaps bladed feet?) it sprinted across the landscape at remarkable speeds, leaping just as it became visible. My reflexes save me - the tar-black blades it was using to run could have sliced my head in half. After vainly trying to fight the murderous thing off, I finally sealed myself in a wall of force and waited for it to leave. The thing slammed into my impenetrable dome in a very satisfying way. I was struck with the intelligent manner by which it investigated the wall, and I got a much better look during this time. It was roughly humanoid, though it's whole body was distorted for near-constant running - I doubt it could stand up without moving forward. Its head was particularly alien in shape. After an hour of systematic checking for holes in the dome, it left, and once my radiant announced that the coast was clear, we got underway again. I have seen no more of these strange beings, and I hope not to.

The terrain is becoming hillier. Though this slows our progress - salt-dunes are no easier to climb than sand dunes - it is a clear sign that we are approaching the Crystal Range. With luck, we will soon be near enough for me to use more practical means of travel.

Day 60

The darkness overhead has become even more oppressive than before, and the dunes have turned to steep hills. This must be the Crystal Range, the border between Salt and Negative Energy. Were it not for my all-protecting Cloak, I would surely be dead now. My radiant is not well - the negative taint in the environment has weakened it, and I fear it may not survive this quest. No matter - it will last long enough to get me to Citadel Sealt.

Few places have the sort of desolate beauty of this place. Elaborate crystalline structures stretch into the vacuous blackness, more complex than any mortal structure. My radiant scouts ahead of me to find easy paths and it casts strange shadows on the deep ravines and jagged peaks. I must say, the technique I'm using is rather ingenious. One of the Dead gave me the secret for the construction of 'wings,' made of a fabric that is pushed by life force instead of wind. As such, I can glide long distanced on my own power, cutting the time needed to travel across this terrain. Those who say the Dead lack creativity haven't seen the clever things they can accomplish when given a challenging task.

I must say, I'm becoming a little stir-crazy. I haven't heard a single voice since I escaped the Chiseled Estate. As long as I can keep my composure, the Cloak will do the rest - those Sinkers won't know what hit them!

Day 72

I have finally arrived at the Citadel. The foolish Doomguard accepted my petition - they think I'm one of theirs! Granted, the Cloak makes me seem exactly like their precious candidate for the Entropy Championship, and I took the proof of my intentions from the very berk's stiff fingers. The Doom Lord here is too impulsive and violent to take to proper precautions - dangerous for someone who lets fiends call kip in his Citadel. As soon as I have what I came for, I can escape.

This place is truly a marvel, carved entirely from the tip of one of the tallest spires in the Crystal Range. It's said that at the very top of the Citadel, a body can leap directly into Negative Energy, leaving the borderlands behind. What amazes me is that this place can stay standing, what with the wear and tear of people walking around. It seems unlikely that the Doomguard of all factions would cast 'preservative' spells on something. Perhaps there is a natural force at work.

The fiends are a trump card I hadn't expected. I knew (and banked on) the fact that the 'Salty Sinkers' were among the most violent and entropically 'progressive' of their thought guild, but to openly deal with both sides of the Blood War! Never mind that no one can figure out how the Sinkers get from Sigil to here (obviously via portal, but its location or key is a total mystery). This is impressively daring of them. I may be able to use a scuffle between the devils and demons to cover my escape. We shall see.

Day 75

I have it! Assuming their stronghold was impenetrable to all but the fiends, the Sinkers did not properly protect their magical texts. I now have the secret to creating Entropy Blades! From this I can extract a more general formula.

I'm safe for now. My radiant died protecting me from a fiendish onslaught, so it's glow can no longer give me away. Using magic, I breathed salt and 'swam' straight down through the brine-pack walls of the Citadel and into the heart of the plane. The Cloak hides my moisture from the water-hungry denizens of the plane, and the Doomguard can't follow my if I leave no path. I am safe. I now merely need to get out of the forsaken plane and back to Sigil.

Day 83

Lost. All lost. The Cloak of Forms is destroyed, the books of the Doomguard shredded, and I can hardly move. I must escape this place, find somewhere to hide out. Someplace lonely.

For a time all was well. Using my compass I oriented toward the Saline Sea where, gods willing, I could dodge the facets and escape into Water. Then, catastrophe struck. The locals (I know not how) discovered my presence and attacked. They were not a real threat, as the Cloak can deal with such minor attacks as they those they used. The threat was to the books I have spent the last quarter-year questing for. I could not remove my Cloak in the Citadel, or my ruse would have been discovered - so I carried the books in my rucksack, assuming they would be safe.

Fearing they would be destroyed, I fled the attackers. I must have been distracted, because I didn't notice the crystal veins weaving across my path. Salt hardened to unnatural levels, crystal veins are said to be sharp enough to cut anything. My leg and the Cloak that covered it proved to be no exception. The Cloak unraveled, sending wild gouts of magical force all about. The accursed salt-beasts were destroyed, but I was trapped in a maze of crystal veins, with decapitation looming at every limb. Further, the dehydration began to sap my fluids the instant the Cloak was broken. In mere seconds, the blood flowing from my hip has hardened into a rocky coating on my stump.

Delirious from shock and pain, I flailed about trying to escape. I lost three fingers, an ear, and everything in my rucksack.. Including the books. By some miracle I stumbled upon a colony of elves who, for reason I won't even begin to fathom, live in Salt. I fell onto the lawn they cultivated like a dead bird from the sky. They have nursed me back to consciousness. They do not seem to realize who I am or why I am in Salt. They have asked few questions indeed. As soon as I can move, I will escape this place, before they learn what I am! It is the Cloak, even in its destruction, that saves me for the time being. I am trapped in that damn Sinker's body and do not have my natural form. But the elves speak of casting a restoration spell on me! Such would bring me back to my true form, and I would surely die. I will escape when I can.

Day 90

I understand. The Crystal Triangle was the gate - now I'm in a much wetter desert than the one I left. It must be Pelion. The elves of Coriander are surely looking for me now. I must escape them, find a way off this accursed plane! At least I am no longer in the Inner Planes. But I must find civilization - without food, I will die.

I was so close! Perhaps those salt beasts were the bloodhounds of the Doomguard - it would explain how they found me. No crying over spilled wine now. I'll rest a while longer, then continue on. As for this journal, it has become too heavy for me, in my weakened state. I'll leave it here, to be buried in white sand, forgotten like everything else in Pelion. This is my last dictate spells anyway.

Powers be damned, this body's starting to itch...