Veyra’s Journal – Entry I
Aboard The Antelope
The stars above the sea are never still. Even as our ship, The Antelope, cuts through the waves, they shimmer and shift - whispering secrets I am only beginning to understand. We have set forth towards the Isles of Halesbrok, each of us drawn by our own reasons, though none could yet claim to know what awaited us beyond the horizon.
The ship itself, a weary vessel, creaks beneath our weight. I observed my companions as they boarded—first Wibbly Bibbly, the gnome whose steps waver as if the ocean rocks him even on steady ground. Ganak, the brooding half-orc, was next, terse and efficient. Banzo followed, masked as a mere calligrapher but with fingers as quick as her tongue. Darius, the noble paladin, arrived after, his righteousness untainted by the militant rule his kin have imposed on these lands. Kelris, the silent elven ranger, bore himself with the discipline of a soldier. And then there was me, drifting in like a shadow, exchanging cryptic words that hung unanswered in the salted air. Lastly, from nowhere, a tiny clockwork construct burst onto the deck—Zer0, stamped with origins unknown, a creature of metal with a soul that defies logic.
A restless night at sea brought more than idle conversation and scheming. When the sound of claws against the deck broke the uneasy peace, I joined the others in investigating. Kuo-Toa, their slimy bodies glistening beneath the moonlight, had found their way aboard. The battle was a clumsy affair—blows missed, feet slipped, and Zer0, ever the enigma, found himself dangling by his legs in the jaws of a floundering fish. But we persevered. Banzo’s blade struck true, Darius executed with cold precision, and Ganak’s spear claimed its prey. Even Wibbly, roused from his mead-induced slumber, delivered a finishing blow worthy of remembrance. We scavenged what little the creatures carried, their trinkets of starfish and crushed shells of little value—save for the greater mystery of why these creatures dared to attack at all.
It was in that moment, as I studied the lifeless bodies, that something beyond sight brushed against my mind. A vision—Ipswitch. A fishing hamlet lost within the folds of memory, its name now spoken into existence. I shared this revelation, and Kelris confirmed its place upon our stolen map. The stars had guided us once more, though whether towards fate or folly remains unknown. We have decided to seek answers upon arrival, and though tensions simmer within our group, I suspect that soon we will have far greater concerns than mere stolen maps and whispered threats.
The voyage continues. The stars watch. And I listen.
