Franz Lohner's Chronicle - Watching the Watchers

An absent-minded man of mysteries, Franz Lohner relies on his bulging journal to keep track of occurrences, intrigues and arguments around Taal's Horn Keep. Sometimes his notes are even useful, believe it or not. The Franz Lohner Chronicles are extracts from that journal.

It’s supposed to be getting a bit autumnal around here, but somehow it ain’t. Personally – and don’t let Olesya hear this – I reckon it’s the consequence of us mucking about with the Weaves. No good ever came of letting magic interfere with the natural order, and we’ve had stray magic aplenty ever since that warpstone meteor made a mess of things. And now here’s me, sweltering in this big old lump of stone and wondering when the temperature’s finally going to drop.

Tell you what, at least it’s shown the makers of almanacs up for the liars they are. You can’t predict the weather, you can only survive it. Anyhow, the current swelter hasn’t stopped Kerillian kicking into her autumnal mode, more’s the pity. I keep finding little poppets around the keep. Woven from straw, twigs and strands of vine they are. Kind of cute, if you like that sort of thing. Or they would be, if they stayed where they were put.

They don’t move when you’re watching them. No, that would be too obvious, and Kerillian ain’t exactly one for obvious. It’s the between-times, when your gaze is elsewhere, that they start creeping around, moving from gate, to stair, to doorway, to rafter … and always with those cold dead eyes staring directly at you. Gives me the shudders, I can tell you.

Kerillian says it’s an old tradition, inviting pieces of the god Nethu to watch over the keep as Geheimnisnacht draws near. Not sure how I feel about that. Nethu’s one of the Cytharai, and thus by definition not-a-nice-chap, but maybe I’m being parochial. We do tend to see things a bit black and white in the Empire, while elfkind’s much more into shades of grey.

Saltzpyre, of course, doesn’t have my easy going manner. Just last night, he snatched one of the poppets off the mantelpiece and threw it into the flames (yes, I know, but you try telling Sienna not to light a fire just because it’s unseasonably warm). For some reason, I kept expecting the poor little thing to scream, but it didn’t utter a peep. Just stared blankly out of the smoke as the fires overtook it, then razed a blazing hand in accusation.

It’s probably for the best that Kerillian wasn’t around, but I’ve a feeling she knows all the same. As for Saltzpyre, it seems that one was enough. Either that or he’s come to the conclusion that – just maybe – we have enough gods mad at us as it is, and provoking Nethu ain’t going to work out well. Ah, who am I kidding. He’s probably burning the rest as we speak. I’d better go have a look.