Dear Spellbook,

I’m sorry to leave you on such a grim note last night. I’d forgotten how vivid emotion and death can be when reliving it through you. As strange as this is to say, the deaths by the golems were not too bad. I knew they were coming more or less each time, and they were part of a plan.

Dying at the hand of that stranger in the Parlor was something different. I had not expected that, and seeing Trish on the floor was a shock in itself.

Riloth 19th the 53rd

That morning I woke up and wept. How many times has Trish died? How many nights have I been lying in the baths, fighting golems, incapacitated, or drowning my despair in drink while my friend was being dragged away and killed?

I realized then why I had been sitting in my room alone all those weeks early on, and why I never went to them for help later. I didn't want to see them. I can’t bear to see them. On some level, I know that if I don't interact with my friends, I can pretend that this was some game. And they are my friends, I see that now as well, despite my best efforts. Speaking to them... it is too hard. Maybe for a week, I could pretend. Pretend that they were not stuck.

In my interactions with the urchins, I see that I started to view them as something lesser, less than... me. In the way I talk over them to get to what I need, dismissing their questions and concerns. Why answer? Why cater to them when they won’t remember? Why not just take what I need and be gone. I’m not doing any lasting harm. At least that’s what I am starting to think. And then there was Gerald, that nameless knight, the bandits. I killed them all and thought little of it the day after. Why cry over a dead man when he wasn't dead? I can not continue down that road. I need to be better. These were people.

Sitting in my room, writing, planning, and only interacting with the urchins and Twiggy, It is easy to see this as a game I have to beat. This is not a game. My friends are trapped. Doomed to relive these days forever. And I am tortured to watch them. I fear that if I interact with them, they too will fall to something lesser in my eyes. Transactions with strangers are one thing, I can bear to repeat those. But Trish? How many times can you tread the same roads of conversation before the person you are speaking to becomes an object, not a person? How many times can Daulf teach me the same nugget of wisdom before I start to see him as a crazy old man? And Roland? Roland already tries my patience with his boasts and crooked philosophy. That one day with Levar was painful enough. I can not do that with my friends.

I have to do better. I can not see my friends, that would be too painful, but I can do better for others. I must not let myself think these people are less than me. To think that is to become something less myself. Something evil.

I can train, and try harder. I might be alone but... alone.

My mind fixated on the word.

I can't do this alone, but maybe I’m not.

That last day I'd had you, I'd seen an anomaly in the report. There might be someone else here. Someone who could possibly help.

Maybe.

No. Hopefully. I need to cling to hope.

I needed to find the other person in the loop. Where even to begin? What did I know? They went to the Dragon's Den Hotel at least once. That's it. Even that I did not know for certain. It was still possible my actions caused someone's route to change to the hotel, but unlikely. It was possible that their actions caused someone's route to diverge to the hotel as well.

Now that my mind was fixated on a problem, the despair started to ebb, to be replaced with purpose. I got dressed for travel and headed down to the Parlor floor. I had missed my window to acquire funds, but I had an idea.

On the way out of the Parlor I stopped at Simon's counter. Planning to leave a note for Trish to warn her, I ripped a piece of paper out of fake-spellbook. As soon as I did so, the paper and the book disintegrated into a cloud of black dust that in turn quickly faded.

Oops. I had forgotten about that.

Attempting to look dignified — difficult enough with the effects of the dwarven ale-induced hangover — I asked Simon, "Could I trouble you for a piece of paper and something to write with?"

"Of course Master Theral," he said, handing me both.

I wrote a note to Trish.

Trish,

Don't ask how I know, but there are five men coming to the Parlor tonight from Lakeside. I think they might be looking for you, like the night we met. They will arrive tonight after ten.

Be safe,

Tal

I folded the note and handed it to Simon with instructions to get it into Trish's hands as quickly as possible.

That morning in my room I had remembered something else while trying to recall details about my potential mysterious reset companion. Back when I had been staking out the market square from my room, I had seen the men arrive who would later murder Trish. I didn't know for certain if they were from Lakeside or not, but their dress, actions, and Trish's past all suggested that they were.

On receiving the note, Simon waited expectantly before eventually saying, "As always, I am delighted to serve." He said it in his overly professional tone that I had started to identify as his irritated voice. Why was he mad now? He'd been so eager for the previous resets.

I didn't have time to dwell on it, so I thanked him and headed to Levar's.

Levar was behind the counter and welcomed me as I entered, “Greetings young sir, how can I help you today?”

I told my prepared story, “Good morning, I was hoping you would be able to help me. I need a potion of clarity and of forgone sleep, but I am temporarily without funds. I will be able to pay you the fair market value tomorrow, and am I willing to leave my sword here as collateral.” I had originally thought to leave my fake-spellbook as collateral, but that was gone.

Levar laughed good-naturedly at my proposal and smiled, “I’m sorry but a sword is hardly comparable to the value of what you ask.”

Expecting this response I answered, “Oh, I’m sorry, I misspoke, I have an ensouled sword.”

At that, Levar laughed harder, “Well, then by all means let’s see this ensouled artifact you are willing to leave here for a comparable pittance.”

I removed my scabbard and belt together and handed them to Levar. As he examined the rapier his expression turned serious and then shocked. “You would really leave this with me for the day?”

“Of course, you’re an honorable alchemist. I trust you.” Which was true. I didn’t feel the need to mention that he could steal it, destroy it, or even kill me for it and it wouldn’t really matter.

“I have so many questions, do you have time?” he asked, a hunger for knowledge clear on his face.

“I’ll have all the time in the world for you tomorrow when I pick it up.”

He gave me the potions and I headed off to camp outside the Dragon’s Den from Gil’s perch. I won’t bore you with the details. I spent the whole day watching for anything amiss, but I didn’t notice anything strange. Once it became dark, I headed back to the Parlor to rest, planning to return to the rooftop for the next few resets until the mysterious stranger showed.

Inside the Parlor, none of the staff were anywhere to be seen. I wanted to find Simon and confirm he got the note to Trish, but I couldn’t find him anywhere on the floor. That was strange. I couldn’t recall a time, in or out of the resets, where Simon was not waiting on my every whim. Climbing over the counter, I walked into the staff section of the Parlor. There was a long hallway that led in the direction of the kitchen and baths. As I walked down the hallway, I heard a commotion. Eventually, I could make out voices.

“Where are they coming from?” one voice shouted, which I thought was Simon.

“They are everywhere!” screamed another.

“Where is the Master?” a third voice pleaded.

“No, we can’t let him know,” Simon commanded.

Opening the door to the kitchen revealed chaos. The kitchen was covered in rats. Every surface had groups of rats rooting atop it. They were rummaging through the baskets and containers of food as the staff beat at them with anything they had on hand if they got too close, but otherwise, the rats paid the humans no mind.

Upon seeing me enter Simon exclaimed, “Master Theral! Help us!”

My Will still full from a day of inaction, I formed the construct for Lightning Bolt in my mind and cast it at the rats rummaging through the food. The sound of the lightning was deafening in the enclosed room with its stone walls. My spell hit all four rats in the basket, and all hell broke loose.

Suddenly, where there had been dozens of rats, appeared hundreds. Pack rats. I’d seen one kill a stray cat as a boy, but never had I seen them in such numbers. They popped into existence, seemingly randomly, and no longer content to ignore this human, they began to close in on me. I looked around to find that the Parlor staff had fled at my arrival. Alone, I fired Lightning Bolts into the pack as fast as I could; each one killed a rat and drove the others into further frenzy.

Retreating before the advance of the pack-turned-horde of rats, I backed toward the hallway that led to the kitchen. They continued their advance and I could not stop them all with lighting alone. I summoned the stationary Gust I had used — with limited success — against Tilavo. The rats, and most of the contents of the kitchen, flew back, crashing into the walls and tables of the kitchen. Many rats hit the wall, falling to the ground dead, but others seemed to disappear midair.

With their path to me blocked by the wind, the remaining rats began to probe for a way to get to me, and I would kick back any that got too close. Oddly, they would occasionally run around the room and disappear. Maintaining my Gust, I picked up a discarded broom and fended off the rats until one by one the duplicates ran elsewhere in the room and disappeared, leaving only the bodies of two dozen rats in various places around the kitchen. When the last rat had disappeared, I released my spell. With the howl of the Gust gone, I could hear the approach of heavy footsteps and Simon’s voice, “There are hundreds! Just through here!”

Simon entered the room, followed by my two security escorts and other Parlor security staff I did not recognize. Upon entering the room and seeing the damage — mostly caused by me — the tall guard from my escort turned to Simon and asked, “Hundreds you say?”

Sensing the opportunity to give Simon a tiny bit of payback for his slights, I said, “Simon, I’d hardly call a dozen rats hundreds. It’s okay, fear can rattle anyone’s judgment.”

At the word judgment, there were three tiny poof sounds followed by three wet thuds as three more rats materialized in mid-air and crashed into the wall.

“Well, I’ll just leave this to you then. I have to go clean up. Please, bring some food from”—I paused, looking around the mess—“not here, to my room later tonight.” I told Simon as I squeezed past him out the door towards the baths. I had to fight to keep a smile from my face.

Once clear of the kitchen, I had a moment to ponder the event. How did that happen today? I knew I’d seen Simon at his station at this time on other resets, had this rat infestation happened before? Could this be the work of the stranger? Or were these pack rats somehow immune to the resets? Neither seemed likely.

I spent half an hour in the baths, thinking over a plan for the next few days. On the way back to my room, I checked the gaming floor to make sure Trish heeded my warning. I couldn't find her, so either she did, or she wore a much better disguise. Satisfied, I returned to my room to find an apple and some bread with butter. Clearly Simon was going above and beyond for me.

Riloth 19th the 54-59th

The next morning I woke up and dressed in my travel clothes—sword included—and headed downstairs. On my way down I wondered why I had never bought myself a set of leather clothes like Roland and Trish wore. More importantly, why hadn’t they recommended I buy some? Leather pants would have made those rats far less of a threat.

I arrived on the gaming floor a little early for the bet and used the time to experiment. When I had seen Trish die that night, I had tried to reach out for the Fonts, but been unable to do so. The floor had always felt strange to me, and if there was some effect blocking magic, that would explain it. I reached out with my mind towards the Arcane Realm and found that I could not enter it. It was as if it wasn’t there. Trying again with a wizard spell, I built the construct in my mind without issue, but when I tried to enter the realm through a gate, nothing happened. I was still tired and sick, not having yet had my potions, but this should not have happened. The time came for me to place my bet, and I abandoned further experiments. I had not heard of wards able to prevent access to magic, but I hardly knew anything of wards, so that was not a big surprise.

After winning my pile of gold, which I only withdrew a portion of, I stopped to speak with Simon on the way out. I handed him the note for Trish and after tasking him to give it to her I said, “You might want to keep an eye out for pack rats, I saw one in the halls upstairs, and when I shooed it away a dozen appeared.”

Simon’s face became set in what could best be described as a war face. As if a rat in the Parlor was a report of an enemy raid on his homeland. “Thank you for the warning Master Theral, I will take care of that immediately,” he said, and ran off to, I don’t know, rally his bannerman?

“Don’t forget to deliver my note!” I shouted after him.

In response, he simply lifted the paper in the air as he ran.

The rest of the day was uneventful. I sat on the roof across from the Dragon’s Den and waited, bored. After Simon had left, I took Halfing, Full Hearts, from behind the counter and was reading it as I watched the door through the corner of my eye. Nothing seemed different from the day before.

I repeated the day five more times. Each day nothing changed except for the book I read. I got through The Red Pirate of Love, The Chieftain of Desire, Blessed by Her, The Sorceress Seductress, and The Golem’s Heart. The last one grossly mischaracterized—from my experience—a golem’s capacity for love.

The next morning I decided on a change of plans, but this seems a good place to stop.