Greetings wanderers!

When I write these words, around 260 pages of Adventurer's Guide are already written, edited, and laid out, with following +-50 pages to come. Linocuts from Ala, needed to put the final touch on the book, are in an advanced state of production (currently being "cut" from "lino" and drying after taking prints, as you can see in the photo above). I hope we'll be able to give you more concrete content in a couple of days, but I did not come empty-handed - the soundtrack is ready for listening on Soundcloud!

And to give you something to read while listening to this fine music piece, and to make the wait more pleasant, I present you - famous swashbuckler, rapturous rascal, and fencer unparalleled (at least some time ago), Jean Elfin!

Jean is a living legend – either among biesy and mortals alike. The time to recount all the brawls, scandals and skirmishes in which he has been involved would be longer than how long Jean Elfin has been walking the earth – and he is a very old bies. Although tales of his deeds circulate in manors, castles, and inns, few people believe them to be true, or even that someone like Jean Elfin could really exist. Therefore, it is most surprising to meet him face to face when it turns out that such a swashbuckler not only was, but still is. In his younger days, he was a war hero, slayer of monsters, conqueror of women's hearts and leader of numerous bands. It is said that at one time he also commanded outlaws in Karpaki, where his own heart was stolen by a certain beautiful noblewoman of the Radorżynski family. Jean Elfin then abandoned banditry and settled down with his chosen one in her ancestral castle. Unfortunately, love could not conquer the passage of time, and although the immortal bies Jean stood by his beloved to the very end and sought every way to deceive Death, she finally took what was rightfully hers.

Now Jean Elfin sits sad in a large, empty castle, toasting with red wine to old adventures, old companions, but most of all – to lost love. The once raven-black hair tied in a ponytail is now gray with a few sad dark strays, the pointed ears have faded, the sharp, laughing eyes have disappeared into folds of skin and fat, and the uniforms and armor have been exchanged for a bathrobe that comfortably houses his beer-belly. Sometimes, in a drunken stupor, he challenges invisible enemies (who maliciously take the form of rats) to a duel with swords, chases the ghosts of the past down empty corridors, or wails loudly from the walls, calling the names of friends who will never answer him again. He is driven crazy by the names local folk call him – John the Gnome or Goblin Jack. Sometimes he has to deal with intruders, or worse, youngsters who, not knowing or believing in the legends of John the Gno… I mean, Jean Elfin!, want to challenge him. Usually, they painfully find out that everything they tell about Jean is not just idle boasting, but barely an introduction to what he could - and still can - pull off with a blade.