Downtime Journals: Weelor
I, Weelor of the House Dimir, The Undying, Slayer of Kara-Thoth, Commander of the Cold Legion and Justicar of the Damned, well aware that most events of my life have been hopelessly misinterpreted by some lost souls who are better at quick judgments than careful consideration, hereby set down the accurate record of those event, so that the truth may at last be known…
Well, I WAS young at some point. I remember being the proud member of a party of adventurers, “The Red Crows”. What a silly name. The Combine created a flock of red crows a few years back, which having inherited their color from an unknown species, wreaked havoc near Foundry Street, before being put down by the Boros Legion. I remember sitting in a pub and witnessing the whole incident and when a dying bird fell in my beer, I couldn’t help myself. It was my first animation. The bird died at least six times since then, but I keep bringing her back – with necromancy, with science, sometimes with the combination of the two. Is she still the original bird? Did she lose herself during those four hundred years? I cannot tell.
Anyway. I’m not about to give you a recollection of our adventures. They have been recorded by many I couldn’t care less about them. It’s not the adventures what made me who I am now. It’s the time I spent between them.
Some of these times-between have been short: a few weeks, when House Dimir was at war. But usually we spent months and months with preparation, learning to fight with new weapons, practicing spells, combination of attack patterns, creating new spells, drinking, gambling, building houses, then selling those houses and so on.
Let me start with the first time-between. I was very inexperienced at that point, knowing only a handful of spells and getting tired quickly after casting only a few in combat. I had a sharp mind though, so I could quickly devise winning tactics for our party, even during combat. This way I was useful even after I have cast my share of flaming darts and depleted my magical powers. We arrived home after killing a kobold shaman and his tribe. We got our loot, received our commission and then went home.
I remember how empty the world felt. I wanted to get back to the dungeons: to explore, to loot, to kill to evolve. Then I realized how vulnerable I am. I had no wealth at that point. I spent all my money on healing potions, food and lodgings. I spent a few weeks listening to conversations in the Gore House. Learning how more experienced adventurers lived their life. I realized I need more money, a lab and good equipment. So I started working in the library. The job was boring, but I had access to multiple tomes I couldn’t afford that time, so I started learning spells while earning money. This way, the life between adventures didn’t end with a huge financial deficit, and accepting the commission didn’t happen because I was starving, but because I wanted to try the new spells I’ve learnt. It wasn’t a particularly mighty spell, it only created three attacking rays of fire, but it was the first spell I’ve mastered this way. I created at least three versions of this spell later, before committing myself to the ways of the dead.
So you see? The first advice: don’t just wait till the next adventure hits you in the face. Have a learning strategy. Spend your time-betweens in a meaningful way!
To be continued…