Post by David on Feb 13, 2010 2:41:15 GMT -8
Day 3 (or so I shall call it. 3 days have passed by my reckoning since the destruction of Thunderspire.)
Though some curious peruser of these pages may one day dismiss their contents as the ravings of a mad man, I begin to fill them now in the hopes that they may help to keep me sane. I write to remind myself of this truth: the life I had before was a reality, and not some fevre dream.
My father gave me the name Virgil, and had I stayed on in the town of my birth I may have taken on his name as well and been known as Virgil Detson. This was not to be, however, as my father had more hands than he needed around the farm and more mouths than that farm could feed around the table.
I was apprenticed, therefore, to a tinker by the name of Iapyx. I then became Virgil Fabrilis: "the Maker's Virgil," though I suppose that now I am a maker myself.
My master was a kind enough man, though his other apprentices.... Whatever. I have no inclination to trot out a litany of past wrongs. Suffice it to say we have long since reconciled.
Everything I know of mundane artifice, I learned from Iapyx. It is not for lack of skill that his name is not known in legend. I have learned somewhat of the artificers of old, and I know they had a bit of a card up their sleeve. Something of this cheat has wakened or been placed in me, I think. I find this quite useful at times, though that latter thought frightens me more than I care to say.
Useful... not useful enough. Not enough to save Perdix, or Rounce, or Kevaki. To find Max in the tunnels. To give Talos back his eyes. Or even to figure out where I am...
That's enough of that for today. I don't need that. I need sleep.
Though some curious peruser of these pages may one day dismiss their contents as the ravings of a mad man, I begin to fill them now in the hopes that they may help to keep me sane. I write to remind myself of this truth: the life I had before was a reality, and not some fevre dream.
My father gave me the name Virgil, and had I stayed on in the town of my birth I may have taken on his name as well and been known as Virgil Detson. This was not to be, however, as my father had more hands than he needed around the farm and more mouths than that farm could feed around the table.
I was apprenticed, therefore, to a tinker by the name of Iapyx. I then became Virgil Fabrilis: "the Maker's Virgil," though I suppose that now I am a maker myself.
My master was a kind enough man, though his other apprentices.... Whatever. I have no inclination to trot out a litany of past wrongs. Suffice it to say we have long since reconciled.
Everything I know of mundane artifice, I learned from Iapyx. It is not for lack of skill that his name is not known in legend. I have learned somewhat of the artificers of old, and I know they had a bit of a card up their sleeve. Something of this cheat has wakened or been placed in me, I think. I find this quite useful at times, though that latter thought frightens me more than I care to say.
Useful... not useful enough. Not enough to save Perdix, or Rounce, or Kevaki. To find Max in the tunnels. To give Talos back his eyes. Or even to figure out where I am...
That's enough of that for today. I don't need that. I need sleep.