From the Personal Journal of Lia Danuu O'Bran

A lot has happened these past few weeks. Things that are both exciting and unbelievable. As I sit here beneath the canopy of trees in this darkened

Eisen wood, I'll try to recollect the chain of events that led me here, lost and alone as I am.

The last time I wrote, my ship, _The Whispering Bough, had made a makeshift docking to repair the damages sustained during it's ill meeting with a Castillian warship. Although we gave better than we got, we still ended up having to limp away, broken mast and all.

While repairs were being made, I was finally able to firmly make the acquaintances of the gentlemen who had hired us. The Avalon is a William McCormick. A warm hearted gentlemen, very passionate and, if some of the stories about his exploits are to be completely believed, a bit reckless. He enjoys good ale, good fights, and good company. I think he'll fit in well here on the Bough. He moves well around a ship, and I've since discovered that he was a part of the Sea Dogs as well (though his ship no longer sails the seas). Enrique Montoya is the Castille. I will admit to being a bit cold towards him initially. He did not give the best first impression, and I have a quarrel with Castillians in general, but I find him to be of sharp wit. In addition, beneath his public face of arrogance and disdain, I find him to have a soft spot for the ladies and a strong sense of honor. I respect that and hope that I can see beyond his exterior more often. He, too, has sailed before, and I find myself impressed with the noble lord, he's seen his share of heartache. The last gentleman is from Vodacce. Renaldo de Ricci is a gentleman in every sense of the word. Unknowledgeable about the workings of the ship, he has instead decided to make himself useful below decks by helping Coleman catalogue and take inventory on the cargo. Several times, I have seen Coleman going on and on about his precious artifacts, while the

Vodacce nods and makes interested-sounding noises at the right intervals. He might be bored, but I can tell that he understands more of Coleman's babbling than most. All three have mentioned a fourth gentleman whom with they hope to reunite; Valliere is from Montaigne, as is his servant man, Laurent. The group is an interesting mix, and I look forward to seeing how well they work together.

There had been several makeshift rafts and overloaded boats sweeping downstream. I got curious and talked the captain into letting me try to talk to a group of them to find out where they were coming from, as well as the conditions of the river up ahead.

What I discovered was more than I expected. The first boat I came up to was a ragged affair, two crude rafts lashed together and tied to a rickety old boat. It held twelve people, ranging from a youngster no older than five to an ancient looking grandfather. They tentatively answered my hail in Ussuran and seemed shocked when I responded in kind (how I thank my father for indulging me when I insisted on speaking to the sailors in town).

Forced from their homes due to the fighting going on between their own government and that of the Montaigne army, the people had taken to the river, letting it lead them where it pleased. They had made it so far downstream only because no one would allow them to settle upon their shores for more than a night at a time. The Eisens and the Castillians would not welcome them, and the Ussurans were too proud to beg for relief, and too stubborn to rest long on land occupied by Montaigne. They had no food and did not expect to live much longer, that was evident in their eyes and body language. Moved by their plight (and I must admit, by the sight of the young ones, their eyes overly big in an emaciated face) I promised to help them however I could. Speaking briefly with the captain, he gave me permission to feed them. "But only this once. If it gets out that I'm feeding refugees, we'll have no peace from them. See what you can find out from them." I took the little we could spare from the ship's stores and implemented it with some judicial fishing. Once dried, the Ussuran family should have enough food to last them three more days. When I presented them with this gift, they insisted that I join them for a meal. Not wanting to offend them, I agreed (though I managed to share half my meal with the little ones). Dimitri is the head of the household (such as it is) and he gave me a general rundown of conditions to expect on the river, as well as conditions in his mother country.

The situation is extremely curious. The Ussurans don't like soldiers, but they don't seem to hate the Montaigne army or their leader, Montegue. Montegue treats the Ussurans with dignity. He insures that none of his men burn them out of their homes, or kill them out of hand. On the other hand, hard winter seems to follow him and his troops. Tales of soldiers freezing to death on a balmy day, or being caught in a sudden snow flurry give credence to the idea that Matushka, Grandmother Winter, is following the Montaigne army. She isn't happy with their presence and is letting them know it. Montegue came into the country with over 100,000 men and many have died of starvation and sickness as opposed to active fighting. The Montaigne army is plagued with infighting as well. The army has split in order to be able to forage, but they aren't having much luck. The Ussuran Gaius, Ilya Sladivgorod Nikolovich, has not yet raised an army to go against the Montaigne. There are rumors that such a gathering is being constructed, but nothing solid.

The rest of the evening was spent listening to their music and asking questions about their culture. The family began to head for their beds and I thanked them for their hospitality. Before I rose to leave, Dimitri halted me. From beneath his shirt, he pulled an ancient looking pouch. Taking it off, he handed it to me, explaining that he had owned it since he was a child. He had a feeling that he wouldn't need it anymore and he wished for me to have it. I wanted to protest. It was obvious that the pouch meant a great deal to him, but he would have none of it. He offered a prayer that if ever I were in Ussura that Matushka would be as generous to me as I had been to them. He pressed the pouch into my hand and walked back to his family. By the half-light from the moon and campfire, I saw that the pouch was made of leather. A design had once graced the hide, but years of handling made the picture faint and indistinct. It was completely sewn closed, but curiously, the scent of fresh herbs could be detected emanating from the pouch. A simple leather thong was threaded through the pouch and I placed it over my head, tucking it into my shirt.

The ship had been repaired enough that we left early the next morning.

Things were fine through midmorning, then William, who had taken a spot upon the upper riggings, spotted something off to starboard. Though not able to get a good glimpse, he was able to describe what looked like the hump and fin of a large creature. Almost immediately, the crew began murmuring fearfully about the Dechain Beast, a river beast that is said to roam the area. The creature is spotted again, closer, the dorsal fin and tail flipping out of the water, heading straight for us. Panic in the crew set in. I'd never seen them lose their cool before and it was a bit disconcerting. The captains tried to restore order, and they eventually got the crew calm enough to start making preparations. While some crewmen moved down to the hold to reorganize the cargo for easy maneuvering, Captain Gutwold asked for some volunteers to take a rowboat out to distract the beast from the ship. It was quite possibly a suicide mission, but I volunteered anyway. Surprisingly, so did William, Renaldo, and after a brief hesitation, Enrique. A few other crewmembers and Captain Gutwold himself completed the group. As we were lifted up, I saw that the cannons were being primed. 'Good,' I thought to myself, 'at least we'll have some kind of cover.'

As the rowboat was swung over the railing, the creature struck the ship with considerable force. I wasn't quick enough to grab hold of a line and was tossed out of the boat. I fell a good ten to twelve feet before crashing into the water. I hit the water hard, knocking the air out of my lungs. Of course, I went under immediately, curse my luck. Disoriented, I was only peripherally aware of the rowboat splashing into the ocean mere feet above my head. I felt rather than saw the creature brush past me as it rammed into the ship once again. It didn't notice me and I prayed to all the Prophets that it did not. I felt a sudden change in the ocean current and was aware of being pulled closer to the ship. 'The hull's breached!' Swimming as best as I could (which isn't very well at all, I must say), I finally figured out which way was up. I managed to grab a quick breath of air (as well as some water) before sinking below the waves once more. Mere feet away, the creature hauled itself out of the water and dove deep below, the shock wave of displaced water pushed me out of the way of the monster's bulk.

By luck, or the Prophets, a crate rose up to the surface below me, allowing me to ride it up to light and air. Choking, I could dimly make out the rowboat a few hundred meters away. The Whispering Bough was listing to one side, showing every indication that it wouldn't be afloat much longer.

The Castillian swam towards me, a determined look on his face, and a rope clenched tightly in one fist. Before I could regain my equilibrium, he grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and pulled me off the crate, trying to swim with me back to the rowboat. Unprepared for that action, I ended up sinking again, only this time, pulling him down with me. It was probably the best thing I could have done, under the circumstances.

While trying to struggle up to the surface once more, I saw the shadow of the monstrous beast as it passed over us, going through the area we had just been swimming. I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the water and knew that we had been spared by the grace of Theus.

Popping up, separated again from the Castillian by the force of the creatures passing, I watched helplessly as the monster opened it large maw and crunched down on the rowboat, taking the back third of the boat along with Captain Gutwold's legs. I floated in the water, stunned, had I really just seen Renaldo leap bodily into the creature's mouth? Why would he do such a thing? There is no way anyone could survive that. A part of me began to morn the brave Vodacce's passing while the rest of me still struggled to survive the next few minutes.

The creature dove under again, and I could hear the captain screaming. But not about his legs, no, he was cursing the beast for what it had done to his ship. A large wave broke over me and I go under once more. By this time, I was desperately trying not to panic, I knew that if I did, I'll drown for sure. But I was locked in my own personal nightmare - drowning and water creatures with large teeth! I shudder to think of it again! My lungs afire, my diaphragm constricted and against my wishes I inhaled water. The Castillian pulled me up once more, saving my life. I should have thanked him, but I was too busy just trying to breathe. Apparently sated, the river monster withdrew, letting us get on with trying to compose ourselves. The ship almost made it to shore before sinking in the shallow water.

Captain Gutwold died; he bled to death before anyone could attend to him. Coleson survived, somehow, but had lost half his cargo when the hull was breached. Some of his "artifacts" in a crate had been what had saved my life. We lost seven crewmembers that day, two had been good friends of mine that happened to be in the hold when it the hull was breached. They had been crushed against the sides of the hold by the cargo. "May Mother Ocean cradle them safely forever in her bosom."

We started salvaging the goods from the ship. Coleson managed to convince a couple of crewmembers to help him retrieve what crates he could. The ship was in bad shape. It won't be going anywhere for some time. The two remaining captains decide to stick around and try to repair it.

While all these decisions were being made, our lookout alerted us to the fact that a ship flying Montaigne colors was approaching. William and Enrique looked startled and concerned. I overhead them talking with the captain. They were going to leave our crew, travel overland to their destination. I heard something that if the Montaigne found them here that they would hang the captains and the crew. I'm not sure what that is about, and was about to go about my own business when I spotted Coleson approach the two.

He admitted to them that he was with the Explorer's Society, and my heart gave a leap. I had been trying to find a member of that elusive society since the day my niece had been taken. I hoped that such a far-reaching group would be sympathetic to my plight and would help me locate the girl. When Coleson indicated that he wished to join the two gentlemen on their way to Eisen (and was accepted), I made my presence known. First I apologized for eavesdropping (I seem to do that a lot with this group), then I asked if I could join them as well. "Why should we take you?" It was a reasonable question. "I can swing a sword, have maps of the regions you will probably be traveling through, and I speak the necessary languages."

They agreed to take me, especially once I explained that my term on the Bough was transitory only. The captain vouched that for me and we headed into the woods. As we entered the woods, we noticed that two rowboats were racing away from the main ship, one in pursuit of the other. The two men in the first rowboat were huddled low in the boat as those in the second fired upon them. When it looked as if the second boat was going to get a bead upon the first, a huge explosion rocked the area!

Flames spewed from the rear of the Montaigne ship, a good third of the boat splashing into the water. The two in the first boat disembarked on shore and William waved them over, then ducked back into the cover of the trees; but not quick enough. A Montaigne sailor spotted us and a large group came after us, intent on restraining us. But the crew of the Bough had apparently had enough of the Montaigne and their arrogant ways. They fought off the Montaigne long enough for us to escape, the captain urging us to go quickly. He wished me good luck before joining the rest of the crew in the fray.

We met up with the two Montaigne and I discovered that these two are Valliere and his manservant, Laurent. After he was apprised of the situation he stated simply, "Down one, up two." He gave me an evaluating glance; "Can you swing a sword?" I'm used to that kind of treatment. It comes with the territory of being short and female. "Aye," I replied with a cheeky grin. "Can you?" The Montaigne smiled. William gave a wry grin of his own. "You are in the presence of a great many arrogant men." "So I've noticed," I responded. "But it's no' different than the men in me ole' home town. So I'm used to it."

We made speedy tracks away from the river and deeper into the woods.