Upon making our way safely to something resembling civilization, we resupplied and unexpectedly met with a friend of Corbin's. At least, this is how he presented himself at first. Upon some discussion with him, it became evident that he barely knew the man and was some sort of espionage-affiliate embroiled in the local territory disputes.

I cannot lower my opinion of Corbin, as I know him to be a noble man of his word and with honorable intent. So I will not judge him too harshly based upon whatever shadow network he has adopted out of political necessity.

I dislike all of this verbal maneuvering. Omissions and corruptions of truth are no way to advance one's soul, the fabric of reality, nor the position of said soul in said reality. I understand that this or that nation believes that it is in its highest self-interest to maintain and advance its position. Just like the factions back home, everyone thinks that their philosophy is the Right one until they are eventually forced to change their thinking – sometimes violently. Then the stronger mindset wins after making its own sacrifices, and it persists in satisfaction until fate forces it to sacrifice and/or re-evaluate yet again.

I know it's the natural order of things. But it does not mean I enjoy the process sometimes. I'd rather spirited friendly debates be used to resolve conflicts of perspective than all this complicated subterfuge.

In any case, the man paid us some gold in exchange for viewing one of the letters we recovered and recommended we visit a city official in the next large town. I'm mostly interested in seeing what profit we can make from this deal so we can afford to divorce ourselves from all of this nationalism. I think at least a portion of my companion roster agrees with some aspects of that plan.

Everyone seems so fired up about this letter. After what I thought was a good, if not slightly awkward, meeting with some high muckety-muck woman I was told later by my smarter companions that we were being given veiled threats rather than just financial rewards. Again I restate that these people really should get over their petty nationalism.

I would have liked to explore the city further, but spending a few days knowing that we were being closely watched was not very enjoyable. I dislike keeping secrets and skulking about, having to keep two different visions of my own timeline in mind: the real one and the presented facade. So uncomfortable.

The much more exciting news is that it freed us up to take our new horses northward to these “mountains,” which are effectively gargantuan masses of rock jutting out of the earth. There are numerous words for such things in the Terran dialect, and they are indeed fascinating when blended with the Ignan terms for the blending of rock and fire. In Common, “volcanoes” are the less-interesting single word to describe a mountain range alive with internal heat.

Gently frozen rain, or “snow,” as it is called, covered the mountains in a wonderful juxtaposition of cold air and cold water interacting with hot earth. It is no wonder that the area seems to be plagued with small, selfish and vicious elementals. We also encountered yet another fae-dragon creature like the purple one that followed us from the enchanted forest.

Some of the heat-based elementals seem to have attacked a nesting beast and visited grievous wounds upon her, leaving two of her offspring alive but hours away from orphanhood. I did what I could to alleviate the suffering of the mother, and ended up accepting the unexpected responsibility of tending to her children after her death. I reflexively accepted her request out of mercy, but I've quickly come to realize that I am ill-suited to be a father. Responsibility and I have never been intentional companions, and having two …chicks? …foals? …seems overwhelming when I find it so difficult to keep even myself out of harm's way.

In fact, it took very little time to realize how poor of a guardian I am when both of the little ones nearly died from an elemental attack. Tanariel did what he could to heal them, but his god's favor was spent as a price for my own failure. I am racked with guilt and self-dissatisfaction for the first time in I don't know how long. I should see if there are others who would be better custodians of these young lives than myself.

Damn it's cold in these mountains. I love the mouth-fog that I can make up here; I was only somewhat disappointed that it seems everyone else can do it, too.

We reached yet another abandoned fort. I found some sort of glass ball full of lightning. I'm keeping it.

Raina and I went down a very deep hole into the fort, and were immediately attacked by some form of flying parasite bugs. Half in panic and half in penance for my previous failure with the young beasts, I reflexively threw out a tremendous burst of thunder down the ancient hallway to clear the pests that I could. Between the blood loss of their attacks and my own ear-splitting blast, I fell unconscious for a few moments. Raina managed to deal with the ones I had not, and she used her particular healing magics to bring me to my senses. I willed away the rest of my remaining injuries and felt a bit better emotionally about coming to her defense.

I'm certainly not cut out to be anyone's martyr, nor even caretaker. I am certain of this now.

This underground complex was crawling with annoying elementals, and some sort of large vicious thing. We dealt with all of those distractions – barely – but my primary concern are the three interesting-looking people frozen in more glass containers. Surely they know valuable things and each have unique perspectives on what has come to pass here. I need to convince my companions of the importance of this.

But first we need to rest. It's been a very hard day, and the hatchlings are hungry.