April 12, 2001

Brann Mitenset stood in the doorway of the Exploration Society Outpost of Qalaba'r, watching as the dusk slowly snuffed out the light in the room. After Sir Alayne had been murdered, Brann knew the Society would be facing some rough times. But he hadn't known just how tough it would be.

Dereth was in the midst of exciting events. Lugians opening up civilized contact with the Isparians. The expanding Virindi presence in the wake of their Ayan Baqur invasion. New variants of creatures to catalog, and new items to identify. This was a time that begged for the Society to be at its prime, to use its store of knowledge and talents to make sense of a world that grew stranger by the day.

Andoun had said as much last night, before he'd drunkenly staggered out again for another evening of debauchery and gambling. The gambling bug had also bitten Saladur hard. And Ainea still had not returned from Linvak. After what had happened with Martine, and Andoun's continued commitment to his wastrel lifestyle, Brann wondered if Ainea Besu had made the same choice he was making tonight.

He was dawdling. Hoping . . . what? No, he knew this day would come. There were other people now to lead the fight. The fight for knowledge, the fight to form a community in the face of danger. Even if the Society did not survive in its current incarnation, there would be another coming. The need to know, to build, is what defines us, Brann thought, as he left the abandoned outpost and walked toward the moonlit hills.

He headed toward proof that it defined others as well.

April 17, 2001

Seemingly carved from the mountain upon which it resides, many have long wondered about this ponderous fortress. Boasting walls of impossibly thick stone, none but the Lugians could have built such a place. Linvak Tukal! their bass voices cry -- the ultimate seat of their power. Until now, only the gray-skinned giants thundered through its cavernous halls.

While the Lugians are met in their own stronghold, the campaign against the Virindi continues unabated. Last month, the floating enigmas seized the town of Ayan Baqur, replacing its residents under the watchful eye of an elder Observer. Further conquests must be planned, for rumors circulate of a Virindi consulate reaching a hand out to the Lugian giants. Others tell of an underground lab infested with the twisted remains of Virindi experimentation. What role might the Director known as "Father" play . . . or the sinister Legates and Envoys?

In these times of terror, the immigrant peoples of Dereth seek new ways to lighten their mood. Such need must explain the recently opened houses of games (or "dens of iniquity" to some), where adventurers returning from a successful hunt can gamble away their hard-earned gains. Some have entered clutching their last trade note, and left with prizes such as Pyreal Nuggets and Platinum Scarabs. Others, more confident, less fortunate, bet all they had, only to walk away with but a single, rotting cabbage.

Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi.

Yet outside these gambling dens, other items of incredible wealth simply wait to be gained. Intrepid souls have returned to town with their packs boasting Lugian armor and gems, Virindi magic, and a deadly trio of weapons: Bloodletter, Fleshstripper, and Soulrender.

Perhaps these riches of Dereth have inspired the newfound cooperation seen among hunting parties. Now those who fall in battle may elect chosen companions to help recover the losses of their slain bodies. A much needed agreement -- for the rites of spring have become more dangerous, and rewarding, than ever!