![]() ![]() The clerics were wary of sending me out into the world, and understandably so, yet finally Oghma confirmed his task for me in the high priest’s Binding. Then, on yet another Shieldmeet night when I had turned ninety years of age, Oghma appeared to me in a vision. This was my life for seventy-eight years. Still, they waved and smiled when they saw me. Instead of talking or sharing a meal, they wrote letters. I visited the town occasionally, always with a high-level cleric or two, and my parents still visited. I lost count of the times I sat through the night. Some of our guests required protection of various kinds. I recorded their tales, and fast became adept at discerning truth from embellishment. We provide refuge to adventurers, scholars, and other travelers. Far from a prison, the temple was a haven, of sorts. It was determined that, for the safety of myself and others, I would remain in the temple complex. I survived, but then what? I was a twelve-year-old girl touched by an evil god. While it doesn’t draw too much attention from those who don’t know its background since I can pass it off as a birthmark or tattoo, I still shudder to think what the result might have been had certain high-level priests not been in attendance for the Shieldmeet festivities. Somehow, the clerics were able to banish him, but not before he left his mark on me: a distorted symbol on my left hand. I know now this was the Tentacled Lord, called by some the Great Brain. My name was given, and almost immediately a dark presence appeared in the midst of the assembly. Though only a few priests would attend, my Naming was to be the highlight of our temple activities. Even close friends and relatives are not told the True Name. This name is used only in personal prayer to the Lord of Knowledge and is not shared with anyone since knowing one’s true name gives power over that person. When a child follower of Oghma reaches their twelfth birthday, the local clerics perform a private ceremony known as the Naming, where they reveal to the youth their “True Name” – a secret signifier that represents that beings true essence. My parents visited me as often as their work would allow, and supplying the temple compound as they did, hardly a week went by that I did not see one or both of them. The clerics raised me, teaching me the Binding and the Covenant. My parents, Pergastrek and Tintwise, were not clerics – they were artisans crafting fine calligrapher’s supplies for the clerics and chroniclers of our village. Whoever Heard- of a gnome cleric? Yet, here I am. Beginningīorn one auspicious Shieldmeet day, I was recognized from birth as a cleric of Oghma. By Oghma and the mark on my hand, I attest to the accuracy of this account. This is the book of Brynwick Nibnibbler: gnome, chronicler, and cleric of Oghma. There will undoubtedly be errors in spelling and formatting, and as this was a homebrew campaign, there may be deviations from what is considered “canon” D&D lore. ![]() As such, there are times the narrator is unreliable, and while events and conversations are largely accurate, comments on relationships, motives, and the like may be faulty. ![]() This chronicle was kept by Brynwick Nibnibbler as a first-hand account from the PC’s perspective. 3 The Last Will and Testament of Brynwick Nibnibbler.2.14.5 The Third Watch, Breakfast, and What Came After.2.12.2 Rylan in the Camp of the First Blade.2.11.6 Rylan & Aniel and Rylan & Sinanna in the Morning.2.9.4 Autumnal Ball and Arrogant Bastards.2.8.4 The Quartermaster (Hetzel, Fuego, Loray).2.8.3 The Temple (Rylan, Thea, Ruinfea, Bryn).2.6.3 The Sister, The Skin, and The Showdown.2.5.9 Counseling the Council of Dewport.2.4.12 Interrogating Castguard and Aurun. ![]()
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