Franz Lohner's Chronicle - A Sudden Absence
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.
Where have those daft buggers gone?
Up all night agonising, I was. I’d just about made up my mind to tell them about that last little visitor I had - you know, in the spirit of not yanking them along by the chain any longer. Made for a vicious battle. A lifetime in the dark arts of spymastering ain’t exactly easily put aside, but my conscience persevered. Yes, I know Lileath gave me specific, pointed instructions not to tell them that we’d been talking - I don’t remember much of that encounter, but I remember that - but you know what? Yes, she calls herself a goddess. But I didn’t see a hammer in her hand, nor a comet on her brow. You know what that makes her to me?
Absolutely nothing, that’s what.
Well, that’s not exactly fair. She can probably wink me out of existence without trying, or at least rustle up an army of pointy-ears to do it the hard way, so “nothing” is a bit of a stretch. But I’ve known Salty, Sienna and the others a good long time now, and that’s worth a bit of loyalty. More than a bit, when it comes down to it. Keeping the secrets of a goddess - and a trespassing goddess at that - ranks a distant second to keeping faith with your allies. Never mind her tales of doom and gloom. Never mind her dire prophecies of the world ending. Elves are tricksy at the best of times, so an elf god … ?
Let’s just say I need to verify a few things before I go getting all excited.
Anyway, so I here I was, ready to make a clean breast of it all with the Ubersreik Five - try to rebuild our rotten foundations, you know? - only to find that they’ve slunk off during the night. Kruber left a jaunty little note about how they’d all “Gone Fishing”. Strikes me as unlikely, if I’m honest. Fishing’s the sport of patience, and that’s never been Sienna’s strong suit, nor Kerillian’s. And it’s not as though anyone wants to chow down on what can be caught hereabouts. Too many spines and suspect fluids for that.
No. They’re up to something. Olesya’s none the wiser, but she’s been funny herself these past few weeks, muttering and cackling fit for an Altdorf stage. Hedda knows something, I reckon, but that face of hers gives away nothing she don’t want.
Gone fishing? Gone bloody fishing? What do they think they’re playing at?
Well I’ll tell you something for naught: if they can have secrets, so can I. Maybe I’ll tell them about Lileath … but not before I’ve had a proper poke round. Could take a while.
Yes … I reckon that could take a very long time indeed.