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.
Franz Lohner’s Chronicle – Wizardly Woes
Well, they do say no good deed goes unpunished.
You remember my mate Rosalinde, who helped me get the keep a bit more handy for the purposes of everything we do around here? Used her mastery of Light Magic to shuffle the stones around a bit? Ringing any bells?
Well, part of the agreement for her doing that was that once we’d actually nailed down something approaching a safe route up to the Citadel of Eternity, she’d be welcome to take a look for herself. Not out of any spiritual necessity, I hasten to add. Rosalinde’s always been of the view that she’ll leave the gods alone if they’ll do the same to her, and so far it seems to have worked out quite nicely. Probably works out better for the gods, truth be told. Rosalinde’s the sort of person who redefines the word ‘clumsy’ and I’d imagine granting her any kind of divine protection is a larger job of work than most of our slacker gods are interested in taking on.
And wouldn’t you know it? The Rosalinde factor has struck once more. Happily, it wasn’t up in the Citadel itself. No, the Five managed to keep the Pactsworn off her back while she took her notes and made her sketches – Rosalinde does love her sketching – and everyone came back in one piece.
(Interestingly enough, Rosalinde didn’t hear a peep out of the gods at the pilgrimage’s end. Not sure what that means. Might just be that they’re not interested in speaking to anyone who isn’t prepared to listen, but I might give it a ponder.)
No, the trouble started upon Rosalinde’s return. Decided to try out some of the Citadel of Eternity’s architectural tricks in her own little mansions. I mean, I say “little” but it’s a good sight larger than this here tower. The advantages of reduced labour costs, I suppose. Anyway, things got a bit out of hand. I did warn her that techniques from the magic-suffused wastes might not work out quite how she expected in the considerably more mundane municipalities. And so it proved.
No sooner was the first spell completed than the whole manor twisted in on itself like Bretonnian knotbread. Corridors and rooms look alright from the inside, but somehow loop back around on themselves when you try to make any progress out. She’s now got a kitchen that somehow manages to fill seven rooms and one room all at the same time. And as for getting out? Well, I was the lucky one. Rosalinde gave me a big old magical shove out of the door just as she realised things were going wrong. Haven’t seen her since.
I only know what I know because her and Olesya have been nattering over the Winds of Magic. Olesya, of course, is about as sympathetic as usual – which is to say not at all – but I suppose we’d better add “help Rosalinde escape the prison of her own hubris” to our list of things to do. Morality aside, a good architect is hard to find, and a good architect who owes you a significant favour is a very good person to know indeed.