Atticus Wilson is the son of Joseph and Emma Wilson. His father Joseph travels often for his job as a politician, and his mother is sickly and taking care of the family estates takes much of her time. A few years ago Atticus moved with his mother to the seaside village of Souston for Emma’s health. His best friend is his caretaker and manservant Preston. He doesn’t relate well to others and hides behind his father’s name and reputation when nervous. He doesn’t like to talk about his mother.
Journal entry 00: Souston is gone. Mother is gone. Father is alive but has always been gone, in all truth. I find myself in Almas now, and I have been accepted at a prestigious arcane academy. Preston has moved back to father’s manor to help with the estate. I will write notes to my friends from Souston, but I doubt they will keep in touch. None of them were really much for writing if they didn’t need to.
Journal entry 01: I find it highly suspect that we five new recruits are being sent on this mission with no real support. I know not what ulterior motives the Commander may harbor, but it doesn’t feel consistent. Kaer Maga is hardly a destination for the unwary and unprepared. Luckily my compatriots seem suspicious enough of danger that we should not be caught unwary, and I have spent as much time as was allowed (a mere day) to prepare my knowledge for this adventure. I also have requisitioned a magical item of some note: Sleeves of Many Garments, which shall allow me to blend in, clothing wise anyways, with the locals no matter where we go. I have a suspicion that this job will entail lots of travel.
Several of my companions suffered from brief illness due to the teleportation from the Ether Wayward. We found ourselves in the Ashwood instead of exactly at our destination, thankfully safe on solid ground. I don’t quite appreciate being placed over a hundred miles and a mountain range away from where we want to be. I’ll be sure to check out the Ether Wayward and see if I can help in calibrating the device next time. Possibly the methods could be improved. We journeyed westward towards the river, hoping to then travel through the Wyvern Mountains towards Kaer Maga. We spent the night in the town of Turtleback Ferry after defeating some bandits who happened upon us in the woods. Azoth nearly got us kicked out by stealing a keg of ale, but it was returned safely. I spent the afternoon in conversation with the priest of Erastil at the chapel. I found his views on family disturbing. If family is truly the most valuable thing in our lives, then my life would be of little worth to Erastil. Abadar understands my status, and Nethys supports my burgeoning arcane knowledge. I hope to find this Johan and find out what he could have though warranted running off without leaving clues for his peers to follow if something were to happen to him. Idiot.