Franz Lohner's Chronicle - A Close Call

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.

Well, that’s an experience I wouldn’t want to repeat any time soon.

Seems someone prowling around in my journal got the wrong end of the stick about something I’d written. The “someone” in question was Sienna, and the “something” was a bit of innocent speculation about how Kerillian seems to be softening to Kruber now he’s cognisant of his Bretonnian heritage.

The next thing I know, I’m hanging out over the cliff edge with a none too sturdy rope about my ankles, the other end lashed to a tree, and a decidedly displeased elf partway along, with a dagger against the hemp and an unhappy look in her eye. I tried telling Kerillian that Sienna had committed one or two embellishments along the way, but she wouldn’t listen. Nor did she pay much heed when I explained that I often make notes in the form of a prose poem, and that what she took as being – and I quote – “a balladic romance achingly offensive in its naivete, and demeaning to all concerned” was merely a form of code I employ in my spymasterly duties.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

I was in a bit of a pickle, as you might say, what with the other four having gone off to kill a few ratties in Helmgart, and my lads all having the good sense not to bother Kerillian when she’s in one of her moods.

She hauled me back up in the end, you’ll be pleased to know. Whatever folk say about our elf, she’s not actively wicked … Well, not unless provoked, and I’ll admit I sailed a bit close to the wind on this one. To earn that concession, I had to promise to never again put quill to parchment in such a manner. Wasn’t exactly on pain of death, but Kerillian did ask me if I was attached to my fingers, and desired to remain thus … so the stakes are pretty well established, if you ask me.

Oh well. Looks like the fledgling career of Franz Lohner, Journeyman Poet is over before it’s begun. I know you’re supposed to suffer for your art, but there are limits, and I reckon I’ve ridden mine pretty hard. At least Kerillian didn’t find the actual manuscript. At least, I hope she didn’t.

I think I’d better go and burn it, just to be sure. Turns out I am rather attached to my fingers.