The Tales of Eemish Maker

I am Eemish Maker.

I am of the city of New Aelon, that which was known to me as Aylon. I am a maker of things, as my father was before me, and his father before him.

Up until a few years ago, we had a quiet life, a simple existence under the sky of sand. I helped my father build things for the other in our community, and I helped my mother in the fungus garden. I never ventured far outside of our city center, but several times I explored some of the older ruins on the outskirts, always curious of the world around me.
But I was always reminded that our world ends at the sand, and I came to believe I would never know what lies beyond.

That all changed when Uther the Pure led his band of adventurers into our city in search of Olde Gate, or as he called it, the Travel Arch.

Since that day, 3 years ago, I have learned so much. I have always been able to create simple items of use, channeling the energies all around us into them giving them power, life, what many call magic. But magic is just one face of many sided diamond. The energies that Mind-magicians use, or Psions, is the same energy that Wizards control with their complicated words and motions, is the same energy religous folk call forth from their gods, is the same energy that landstewards call forth from Nature, is the same energy sorcerors channel from their blood.

I have always been able to see this energy in things. It has just made sense to me. And when I need to move it from one charged item to another, I just pull it from one, hold it in my hand like a small ball of light, and "coax" it into the other.

I see this energy everywhere, It runs through us, it is a part of us. Life creates it, makes it grow. It surrounds us and binds us. Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter. You must feel the energy around you; here, between you, me, the tree, the rock, everywhere, yes.

It was in the interest of discovering a new source of this energy, that I brought a few of my friends together. There is an old tale of a source of water to the north of here, a legend, really.. told to children as a bedtime story. And now with the growing size of the city, the folk are beginning to realize that our own source of water, that which powers our fountains is beginning to reach its capacity.

A chance to finally leave this place where I've lived my whole life. After hearing many tales of adventure, it was time to begin my own.

We gathered after I purchased one of those strange one-hump animals called a camel with the little gold I had saved working the tavern. The others seemed eager for all their own reasons, and I felt good about this group, and anxious to find the source.

The travel north was without incident, and as we arrived at the cave in the dune, we descended stairs not knowing what might lay in wait for us.

In the first room a skeleton sat in a heap by the only other door. What might have killed it became apparent immediately, as what appeared to be a bull in the distance began a charge in our direction. What at first had seemed just wall painting, became a live, and the bull approached as the warblade shouted at us to get through the door. I fumbled at the trapped door, disarmed it, and plunged through just as the bull arrived and gored the cleric. We all made it through, and shut the door.

Inside the second room, what appeared to be an armory, we found an adventurer burid in a pile of dust in the corner. But this was no adventurer, for I recognized him from New Aelon as one of my people. I will have to return his things to his family and pass the news. What horrible thing happened to him in only a few days that would make his corpse appear so aged. The weapons all crumbled to dust as well, so we knew we shouldnt stay here.

In the third room, we discovered a torture chamber, and as the cleric stepped near the iron maiden, it came alive and engulfed him. I recognized it as a creature of magic, a construct, something I intend to build someday, and funneled some of the energy I hold inside of me, to injur it and release our healer. I had summoned a shadow creature, and with a command, he rushed forward to help the monk. They managed to open the door enough for the cleric to come tumbling out, only to see the monk fall prey to it himself. But after a few whacks from the warblade, the shdaow creature, with the name of Freddie, opened the door and grabbed the monk.

We finished off the construct, and after searching the room, I discovered a ring of magical protection on a set of skeletal hands still grasping the bars of a cell. Having taken quite a beating, and after the long couple days of travel, we decided it would be better if we rested then.

The room makes me shudder with the thoughts of the screams that must have been heard here some time ago, but my body is tired and a deep rest comes quickly.