Here begins the account of Xavier DeClie.
Watch led to a long night, followed by receipt of this charter. This is to be a rough day. I joined the arranged caravan just as they were leaving Restov. There are too many people here to yet know whom I shall call on for aid when the need arises. I am to meet up with three others, but for now, I will pass for one of the caravan guards.
I’ve noticed an individual of some worth. Heavily armored and well equipped. He should serve well this cause of clearing the southern lands of bandits. At camp, I introduced myself to the fellow. He is… agreeable. If not for the word he preaches, I might take a liking to this able bodied warrior. He announced himself as Abijah Arealious, Templar of the Inheritor and Harbinger of Honor, Justice and Valor. He then began to recant several scriptures from the Acts of Iomedae, at which point I lost interest in our conversation. I do not question that the gods grant individuals of this world great powers, though the gods did not answer the cries of my youth, and gods be damned if I bend a knee to them now. I’ll tolerate his rambling as I do not wish to ever oppose him. Men and women of the cloth can be powerful allies.
It did not surprise me when he introduced his brother to be an elf. Abijah’s slightly pointed ears betrayed an elven heritage. Unlike his brother, Kaltegan was a pure-blood. The long, pointed ears, lithe frame, haughty, high-born attitude, eyes that seemed to glow with the magics well known to a member of his species; no, Kaltegan was in no way the warrior that Abijah had obviously become. Elves have proven accurate archers or masters of the arcane arts. Either way, if I am to accept one, I must accept the other. Kaltegan is always quiet. Seldom does he speak, except for in the solitude of his brother. A man of few words or many secrets, it is too early to know if I can trust this one.