[These pages are filled with flowing, calligraphic script. In the margins are illustration outlines of scenes seemingly related to the text, most of which are of much lesser quality than the handwriting itself.]

An Inquiry Into the Peoples of Kalris, Both Current and Ancient - The Personal Account of Malya V.

These pages belong to Malya V.. If you have found this journal unattended, please return it to me. If I have perished, consider my final wish for it to be delivered to the monastery at Macke-nyd-Hegys, far east of Kalris. Thank you.

The words of these pages record the true account of Malya V., who extends his anticipant greetings to any who may read this in his absence.

I arrived on Kalris by night, ending my dreadful time at sea, which I do not find necessary to expand upon. A thick fog was set over the island, so though it cost me the very last of my coin, I saw myself content to take the aid of a guide inland to the Morenth Library. The fellow, not a Marten, was perfectly cordial, and I found the walk pleasant despite my weariness. I am certain I could not find the way back to the dock without many hours of vain wandering.

We arrived at the library none too late, for a drizzle began to fall just as the stone walls of the library revealed themselves to my eyes. We wished each other a hurried farewell, and the guide ran off to find shelter elsewhere while I continued inside.

The Morenth Library is quite impressive, and I find it difficult even now to not be overcome by a sense of wonder while standing in the large halls between alleys of books. The stone architecture does bring to mind my memories of our own Hegyszoros. I do not find it at all difficult to believe that our own stylings of structure originated here on Kalris, as suggested by the annals I found back home.

Yet the grandiosity of the building itself does not compare to the wonder of which I had been previously informed resided within, and I do not refer to the books themselves. At the far end from the entrance resides a tall, unique crystal. It is infused with magic, its surface orange-gold in color and radiating. Comfort itself seems to emanate from the precious stone. Den-nooks had been carved into the walls surrounding it, and in one of these I found myself blessedly receiving my first full night of sleep since I set to sea.

If I had retained any doubts, they were likewise put to rest that night. All had been welcomed in the Kalrisian Empire.

I awoke the following morning feeling curiously sated, with no need for breaking fast. Still I encountered no one within the library, and set instead to perusing the shelves of books. Many of them contained instructional texts, and many seemed to be written in the Kalrisian Common script. I did find books of other scripts as well, including some recording Martic songs and poetry, of which I had not heard before in Hegys.

I paid them little mind the night before, but I returned to the library's anteroom, where an array of objects were laid out. I was led to believe these items are donations, meant for the island's recent immigrants. Proof, all, that charity is a tradition maintained on Kalris. A scarf was among the items, and though it is plain and not outwardly extravagant, I felt it to be truly remarkable as I wrapped it around my neck. I believe I will take every effort to ensure I do not part from it.

Now comes the time to begin my mission in earnest. I will explore the island, and see what there is to be learned from those that call themselves Kalrisians.

Today I visited the Commerce Guild for the first time since the tour. I was not there for long before I encountered Ossein, a Marten of which Harris directed me to meet during the priorly described tour. He led me back to his shop, and instructed me in much of the basic technique of creating medicinal solutions. Bastard me, of course, managed to break one of his bowls. I was not struck, and he laughed at the mistake in what seemed a good nature. In the end I had been acquainted with the whole process.

While I was over, I also happened to meet another Marten staying with him, Princess Rubi. That jester fate must be grinning madly at me. Apparently she belongs to a northern kingdom, but doesn't know the way back. I didn't get the chance to learn much else about her, but I should endeavor to do so. If I should fail, beg the gods forbid, it would be beneficial to have allies in far places.

More news on the vampire. Ossein seemed quite certain it will not be returning, and I'm inclined to believe him well, for he had the scar to prove his personal combat with it. Handy with a knife in more than medicinal bleeding, I suspect Ossein must be.

---

[There is a small list of simple Martic words here. Each is coupled with a more-or-less, emphasis on less, accurate transliteration of its Common counterpart.]

A Summer Festival was held today. Short hours beforehand I exhausted my use of Sessha's herbalism book and left it in her deposit box as instructed, for I wasn't going to risk misplacing it somewhere in the chaos of the festivities. And quite chaotic the festivities were, though not completely in a good manner.

Rain. There was rain in such a torrent that for the first half of the festival I could do little but huddle around a bonfire some other critter had the foresight to set up and hope my dampened self wouldn't catch ill. Harris, bless him, made sure it wasn't all suffering in the thunderstorm, however. He came by with some candies, which in exchange I gave him the singular copper coin I had to my name. I do not know the values of things around here, but I suspect its worth was much less than that of the candy.

The downpour ended by the time the test of combat began, so I left the fire to go watch. There was sadly no sparring, merely seeing who could deal the heftiest blow to a training target. Of course I encouraged Harris' effort in the sport, but I must admit that the mages truly stole my eye. They hurled bolts of lightning itself at the target dummy! I remember wondering, in awe, if perhaps they had brought the storm short themselves, by stealing its thunder from the sky.

I became less envious when one of the spells backfired, and I watched a sorcerer nearly cook themself. Fortunately another mage, a healer, was on standby to quickly treat them.

I met so many critters in such a short time, I'm worried I may forget some of them to the buzz of the excited air. Clara, who made some of the paths in the forest. Azar, a face finally put to the name of Quarrel's assistant. Miracle la Mariposa de Prea, a mage that could let me understand those I didn't share a tongue with. Eyas, a curious one who I must remember is not a weasel, and who directed me to speak with a Hemlock, including an offer to translate between us. And finally Steve, or Steeeeve? I am uncertain if the name was drawn out purely by an affect of speech, or is meant to be stretched in such a way by all. I am afraid to speak it aloud for fear of offending one way or the other.

I took my leave early, when most of the other critters seemed to divert to an activity I had not understood due to the language barrier. Though, in the time I stayed I could feel that barrier weakening. When I arrived, many sentences in Kalrisian Common ran together as a single string of noise to my ear. Now I have much less difficulty denoting individual words, and have even picked out a select few of which I believe I have deciphered the meaning. Hence the departure, I felt the need to write them down immediately for reference.