Restraal the Immoderately Desirous Advisor of the Night, Protector of Devouring Faith

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Role

Chapter 7

Of course it would seem easy now to recline and muse over my
motivations as a young and somewhat foolish youth seeking You
out. Of course, greed, fear of weakness, desire for power
wreaked through ruthless application of my uncanny ability to
recruit and retain knowledge were all factors. But there was
something else now, something equally less quantifiable. Were
I not the old cynic I am today, I would say it was almost a
calling to an Order which in those days I would have professed
to despise. Only now am I allowed the luxury of such rumination,
for surely I have earned my respite? In any case, there was
undeniably a driving force alien to my conscious being that
even now I have not fully unraveled. Suffice to say, with my
parents' blood on my hands, I was more than willing to blend
in to the multitudes of Galadon. I was no longer a child, but
as an adolescent I was quickly able to deduce that the flow
of Power had many faces...glinting cold, cold steel, red blood, and
mashed wood-pulp and ink, and, curiously enough, much less
understood forces of the Divine. To this day I cannot say
how I, little more than a quick-witted street urchin, was able
to deduce that someone who was able to gain and wield information,
knowledge, skills, useful traits...could control or at minimum,
influence the thoughts and choices of any around him. Armed
with this uncanny realization, it was child's play to rise through
the lower ranks of the Galadonian priesthood. Seeking your
blessing when I gleaned all I could from their ranks was
the next logical step.

Role

Chapter 6

My entrance to Scion was not fraught with traditional
difficulties. Only the humdrum bore of putting up with
the 'expectations' of Troelnar and the other mortals
within the Chasm's ranks kept me from fully expanding my
studies and explorations into the deeper secrets possessed
by the Shroud. By this time, I had realized that deception
moreso than force of any other form of mortal contrivance
was my weapon of choice. Deception could get me past any door,
through any hurdle, to the Knowledge I ultimately sought.
The difficulty would be to balance my pride, putting up
with my less intelligent brethren. Dreaa interests me...
intelligent, but arrogant to a fault. Perhaps this too
could be exploited. At this point, my largest asset was the
fact You remained ambivalent, and perhaps even encouraging,
to invoking Your name at leisure to back any positation
I cared to put forth. Perhaps the 500 gold would be a bargain,
after all. My journey continued...

Role

Chapter 5

"Curses...a simple death in the laboratory of Ktengs foiled
much! Perhaps too much! In my haste, I attempted to clothe
myself as quickly as possible, and wore the gem. And, as
I suspected, it crumbled. Bah! There must be another
way to foil Dreaa yet..."

Role

Chapter 4

Well, I'm back. Back in the 'Fold' that is. A motley crew
of minions with some modicum of talent, to be sure. How the
majority ever made it into the Chasm, I haven't the slightest.
Most of my 'brothers and sisters' would have been little more
than meat in days past. Oh well, such is life, and change...

In any case, I doubt I will be of the Fold much longer. Eshval
has announced her wish to appoint a new Chancellor, and quite
frankly, unless she replaces Dreaa with myself, I find little
use in the bowing, scraping, and 'unity' she wishes of this
amalgam of the disshevled and damned. As Advisor, I could
do what I do best--gather, store, and disperse information as
I see fit. If not, well, I'll milk the Chasm's tomes for all
I can, and see what the future brings. There are always
opportunities for a 'man of the cloth.' And one of my talent
does not sell said talents cheaply...

Role

Chapter 3

How long has the Chasm enjoyed the status quo--that is
to say, no change at all, positive or otherwise. Only a
fool would continue down a stagnating path, where change
exists insofar as it can be imagined to exist. Looking
to the future, I researched the past, and found much the
same--the Chasm has not changed, grown nearer or further
from the Prophecy (if one can actually believe in such a
thing) since its inception.

I think to Eshval's vague hintings of a Chancellor to come.
Who would fit such a position. Dreaa? Muuloc? Troenlar?
None are forward thinkers. Or if they are, they can only
look to the closest of future imperatives. If we--I--
are to achieve the true power and knowledge we seek,
one must lead the Chasm who is willing to approach the
very gods themselves. Perhaps, after all, this one
must be none other than the most immodestly humble of
the Chasm.

Me.

Role

Chapter 2

Well, what to say? A long time has passed since I've added
to this little diary, and with that has come many changes.
Acerbic wit continues to be a favorite past time of mine, but
the the fires of my youth have cooled a bit. This leaves,
I am hoping, more than grey hair in its passing. The mark
of Qaledus has proved useful, both in practical matters, and
in the unsaid understanding between me and his more 'regular'
clientele--the thieves of the land. Both the Chancellor and
Advisor have passed into the grey beyond of undying death,
leaving me with the pups of the Chasm.

Finery and chicanery--perhaps my two favorite things. Working
these two things into advancement in the Chasm may prove useful.
Or of course, it may not. We shall see who the new Chancellor
and Advisor are. If I have their ear, or manage to persuade
Eshval I am an ideal candidate for one of the positions (truly
a humorous thought), I think I will earn a tidy profit for years
to come.

Role

Chapter 1

Advisor for almost a century. And now they see fit
to tell me I have failed with one breath, and offer me
power with the next. They can do or do not as they please.
In this matter, as with the matter of Kardrath's shade,
I cannot bring myself to care. Now the gift of the Patron...
I wait for that with baited breath.

Truly I grow old. Pride has never been a factor in the
past. But now...I have served, loosened my muscle and
fractured my bones in this post. I have given in a way
that makes my skin crawl, and that a younger Restraal
would have sneered at. I suppose it cannot be helped now.
Too old, too old. But there is yet some life and fire
in these bones. And of course, the island awaits. If I
could just speak with the overseer of the Empress's lands...

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