Today I will be leaving for Gray Wind Manor, or is it Gray Winds Manor? Whichever. It hardly matters. This is not going to work.

Asemath Academy was queried a week ago by a strange man about whether they would like to send one of their scholars to the manor to sample their wares. Normally we could care less, but the stranger’s proposition was intriguing.

He claims (please note that I say claims) to be able to imbue common people with the ability of gods. That is, he claims that he can give us the power to make and shape entire landscapes at our own whims. I hardly believe this is true.

But the Academy couldn’t possible turn down documenting such a possibility if indeed it is possible. And I had nothing better to do.

I have been told that if I wish to pack some things I may, though I don’t plan on taking much. This is all going to be a sham, I’m sure of it.

I shall bring some wands with me, just in case this turns out to not only be a sham, but a trap.

Havrandu, 17 Nissa 359 - Evening

There are ten of us here, each from different establishments in Elanthia. I am of course the most respected of my colleagues present. Silvyrfrost has sent a representative -- I’d love to hear how they’re going to turn this one into a song -- as has Daervlan, and a few others from various orders, societies, and groups.

I should describe the manor. The approach is very odd. From the outside all you see is walls, perhaps a touch of leafy branch here and there, a suggestion of tall tress, but nothing more. As you go through the gates there is a feeling, as if you have just passed through a cold mist, though when I asked others about this not all expressed having felt this. Regardless, I know I did because I went through a few times to make sure I wasn’t just imagining it!

At any rate, the inside seems much bigger than it does from the outside (oh, don’t they just always?) and the trees -- my word, how many lifesculptors did they have to hire to get this many trees in here?

The manor itself is painted in a fashion that causes it to blend in with the sky above it which, I might add, was not overcast when I came here. There are mists all over the grounds, and not a stir from the trees -- no birds?

Inside, the manor is almost oppressively gloomy, and there’s a double set of stairs leading up to a shadowy landing. We have all been instructed not to climb the stairs just yet, so instead we have been led to rooms --

Ah, I should perhaps mention what led us to our rooms. Yes, what, not who. It wasn’t even humanoid! Just a mist -- something like a cloud with little sparks of light inside it. It didn’t speak to the group, instead relaying its words solely through Silvyrfrost’s representative -- that insipid little poppet Callamir -- in a manner similar to a gwethdesuan transmission -- words in the head, but only in her head (and I guess that’s why it chose her after all -- there’s no limit on room in that head of hers).

So this is my room. It’s just as gloomy as the rest of the manor, and it smells faintly of must and water damage. The beds are nice at least, and I expect to get a good bout of rest after I finish my meal -- which was here when I came to the room, I might add.

But first I shall go fraternize with my fellow colleagues, and hopefully -- if we are all lucky -- Callamir shall not try to sing.

Elandu, 18 Nissa 359 - Early Morning

There were poached eggs on a plate with a covered platter awaiting me this morning, plus fresh bread, and fruit. I find the fact that I didn’t stir or hear anyone enter my room disturbing, but not too terrible. The food was good, and so I departed my bedroom with my fast broken, ready to view what parts of the manor I was privy to.

This turned out to be not much. Even in the early morning, the shuttered mansion remained such, and had I been Human I would have been hopelessly lost in the darkness. There was a long hallway underneath the off-limits landing, but it was utterly pointless -- leading to nowhere but an empty wall. There weren’t even any portraits or paintings to justify the corridor’s existence. Quite odd.

So this led me back to that foyer with the double staircase, and of course now I was eyeing it and wondering what might be up there. I was warring with my inner curiosity when I saw something move on that dark landing, and a man came down the stairs.

He had a candelabra in his hand and as he came toward me I could see a glimpse of his face. He seemed somewhere between Elven and Human, his features cast in a manner that reminded me of ones I’d seen before, but couldn’t quite place. His clothing was simple yet bizarre -- a long, knee-length shirt with wrist-length sleeves and a high collar. The cloth didn’t seem to be any texture I knew -- it was very smooth, so that I thought at first it might be velvet, but as he drew close I could see it wasn’t. His garb reminded me of something from an old book I’d read as a young child -- The Adventures of Pitr Stockingbother or something like that -- or the sort of thing you’d don after a bath. He had hair the color of old gold in need of a good cleaning, and pale skin (what I call "moon mage’s complexion"). As he walked down, I realized his eyes were on me, and that he was smiling.

"Heyo, lasadel," he said to me. "You are up earlier than the others."

"Even without the sun," I replied (or something like that), "I tend to wake up at an early hour."

He nodded.

"And are you the lord of the manor?" I continued. "Or are you a mist, perhaps, in a human costume?"

He laughed at me at that and shook his head. "You are quite sharp, lasadel. You have found the amenities pleasing?"

"I have indeed, and you did not answer my question," I said pointedly. "Who are you?"

He smiled at me. "I am the manor lord’s assistant. Would you mind, lasadel, if I experimented my social graces upon you?"

I raised a brow. "It depends on the graces."

"Nothing too horrid," he replied, humor warming his tone. "I was instructed by my lord to show you the manor’s power as a group, but as it has been a while -- a long while -- since I have even spoken to someone aside from my Lord and his Seneschal, I would that I test my social graces on you. Just to make sure they aren’t too antiquated."

Now I raised the other brow to hang beside its mate. "I see. Yes, I would be amiable to that. Allow me to freshen up, and then I shall return. It will not take long."

He nodded to me. "Be back soon," he said in a warning tone. "We do not have long."

So I have rushed back here, and jotted down what I recall of the conversation and this morning’s events, and now I must gather my things and rush back to -- ah. How odd. I never asked his name. Hmmm....

Elandu, 18 Nissa 359 - Evening (?)

How odd. I see now I marked the last entry as morning, but how did I really know it was morning? The manor...it is without time. It is strange. And how I will find words for what I must relate...I don’t know.

I haven’t seen the others, or maybe I passed them and was so dazed I did not recognize them. I do not feel like the person who opened this journal last.

I would that I had been with the others now, and yet I am also pleased that it was I alone who was the first in centuries to pass to the top of that landing, and step through the misty portal, and into the bright heart of the manor. I wish to see their reactions, when they learn -- I wish to see the Paladin Guild’s representative moved to tears. I always like to see it when Paladins cry.

But first, a story....

A long time ago -- and yes, it was really a long time ago in the case of this story -- there was a woman named Yula, who was loved by a wizard. And the wizard had a magical crystal that --

Oh, this sounds completely silly. Let’s just put it this way. There’s a crystal up in a chamber here in the manor, and the lord of the manor gives you -- he -- it -- well, whatever happens, you touch it and you wind up elsewhere.

You see, I told you I can’t find the words to relate. How to tell the story of Yula without sounding like that sap Callamir? I don’t know. Well, let’s just put it this way, supposedly the reason for all this is to find Yula. Not that I really believe that. But I wouldn’t be a good ambassador if I don’t set down the details, now, would I?

The claims the manor’s lord has made are true. To a degree. Yes, you can create -- well, just about anything. Places. Things. Not living things but landscapes and buildings and such. You really can. But they’re inside the crystal, not on Elanthia. You can’t get to them from Elanthia unless you have managed to get in past the portal, or....

Or the somewhat fickle Guardians -- yes, he said it was the Guardians specifically -- decree that they like what you’ve made. And it winds up outside the crystal, on Elanthia. Supposedly (and I have no idea if this is true) this is how some of the lands in Elanthia were made! But I don’t entirely believe that.

As for the Lord of the Manor. Yes, I have met him. It. I shall endeavor to explain a little more when I return next. I have been inducted -- I must now go explore and experiment, and the next entry I promise will be about the manor’s lord and what I have discovered.

Note: This is the final missive we have received from Scribe Alkani -- her diary was delivered to us by what we must assume were magical means, as it appeared on the desk of the master of Asemath Academy without anyone seeing it being delivered. A note, in her hand, was stuck into the journal’s cover, relating that she was well, but busy, and would get back to us as soon as possible. That has yet to occur. We await her, but in the meantime we are leery to send others for fear they, too, might find the manor too irresistible to leave....