3. Did I win?

Did I win?


  • ((Keeping other stories seperate from "Second chance." So here's Ronan's thoughts/journals))

    Corruption

    I knew that I would be facing corruption once I was elected into Peltarch's offices. However, corruption comes in many forms.

    These days, it is a plague. Or "was" a plague. Many suffer, and some die right next door to me, not a few feet from me. Yet, there is nothing I can do. I've not the power to ease the sick. No healing. All I am able to do is "discuss" plans of action in some fancy meeting hall, me safely hidden from the corruption, while others take it on full force… even though they don't want to and have no choice.

    Along with feeling useless in helping these people combat the plague, my love worries greatly for me. She wishes me away from the city, to stay with her until the storm has passed. How I wish I could've. How I wish things like these just would not happen. Fortunately, the plague is losing. A cure found, with no aid of mine.

    This helpless feeling. I hate it. I feel I must do something, even when there is little or maybe even nothing I could do. This feeling also makes me anxious, as if I must prove my worth. Though, it is nothing new. Here I complain of not having enough, when I have it all. Sometimes I wonder what is wrong with me. A silly man who wishes he could do everything.

    Ah'ria is right. She usually is. Actually she -always- is. An assassin came with something that disrupted by magics, and could've easily slain me. If not for the others in the commons. She predicted someone would figure out what I am capable of, study me, and use it against me. She warned me not to be so showy. How wise she is. I wonder if she realizes how many times she has saved my life, how much she has improved me, made me a better person. Words cannot describe what I feel for her.

    Perhaps I'll write her a poem. I do like to play with words. Words are fun. Words can also be a bit mean. Words can-...

    The rest of the entry seeming to ramble on about words and their uses. Likely of no interest to any potential readers, unless they wanted to fall asleep quickly…

  • L

    ((Summoner told me to post in his journal if I wanted so I'm posting this as things stand IG as far as Ah'ria is aware))

    Ah'ria sits quietly under a tree, cross legged and somber. In her lap lays a book, somewhat worn. Vibrant blue eyes scan the horizon as if searching for something…or someone? At last, they settle on the book and with a slow hesitance and a gentle finger, she opens it and begins thumbing through the pages until she finds the last entry. Without reading the contents, she gathers quill and ink from her pack and begins a new entry...

    <e>It seems like a lifetime you've been away from me and I miss you so terribly that sometimes it physically hurts. I wait every day, every night, at our meeting place here. When I last I sleep due to exhaustion, I dream of seeing you appear on the horizon, watching you as you become closer and into clearer view and being unable to wait any longer, jumping up and running into your arms...hearing your warm laughter as you hold me and lift me from the ground in your arms.

    How I miss our long talks! Listening to you complain about the politics of "your" city and how tired you are of the evils then watching your expression change from disgust to one of resignation as you sigh and speak the words we both have memorized by now, "I hate it, but someone has to stop it!" Talking to you of the forest, the dangers my duties bring me face to face with, seeing your expression become worried and being able to ease that worry with only a touch to your face. I miss not having to say anything at all, but still somehow knowing the entire conversation between us as you silently stare into my eyes with the most loving expression I've ever seen. I miss how you hold me when we sleep and how you would smile when I would place a freshly cut apple under your nose and you would awaken to the scent.

    I miss our laughter and playful times. How we would play for hours, just being silly and free! You are the one who showed me that it's alright to have fun and enjoy life. You are the reason I even live...literally! I miss stealing your boot and disappearing into the shadows and watching you try to find me, all the while calling out to me by the translation of my very name, "Where is my sly huntress?" I miss being in the stream and you jumping in behind me, startling me so badly I tried to hide under water!

    I wonder, Ronan Redralen, my love, my husband, do you have any idea how much I love you? Perhaps if or... when you return to me one day, you will read these words and know at least a part of it. Until then, I will be here, watching the horizon for your handsome form to appear.

    With everything I am,

    Ah'ria Redralen</e>

  • R

    ((bump))


  • Clear Conscience

    Things have been getting a tad out of hand. The shadows that lurk over Narfell have brought a great challenge to us all and test our very limits. The Lady of Loss succeeding in corrupting the minds and hearts of a few, who have turned against their own country for the promise of power.

    It is a daily struggle to give those who are blind the gift of sight. But ever do I continue to fight, as best I can. The touch of death nearly laying claim to me, as a party of ten companions or so nearly lost all their lives. Two surviving, myself and Shannon. I would like to say it wasn't luck, and that it was merely my knack for adapting to situations, but I cannot. Though us two survivors ended up saving the fallen and the prisoner, and surpising enough, I was thanked for it. I also experienced my dream of a dragon shape during the rescue, thanks to a fortunate finding of a powerful scroll in a venture long past. Despite the seriousness of the situation, I couldn't help but feel happy as I flew in the sky, even if it was brief. No muscle ached, no idiotic individuals attempting to convince me how wrong I am… just the breeze against my face and the flapping of my scaley wings.

    Why couldn't I have been born a dragon? I wouldn't need to worry over anything, and the troubles of the world would not effect me... because I would be so fearsome, strong, powerful, and able to fly away at a moments notice. But I am no dragon... I am a half-elf, stuck on the dirty ground that is Narfell with all the corrupt who inhabit it. My magic can only do so much, and it is not enough to change things for the better on my own.

    It is enough, however, to dismantle those who fight with the corrupt. The noble Oscuran, who joins Zanetar in the Peltarch jail. The same place in the pass is where I caught him, the noble who aids the shadows. They are so arrogant and believe none will take action against them, they believe they are untouchable. How wrong they are. They are just as frail as me without my magic... they believe their titles will protect them, when those they work for will just leave them behind. That is how they are, my experience as one of them taught me that.

    The noble talked at me, with that smile on his face. Even when in a cell, away from the darkness that is his home, he is confident. It reminded me of my time in jail there, when I assumed I'd be out within the hour. I was quite wrong then, and so is this Oscuran noble now. He thought to compare me to the evils that lurk below. Hiding in the shadows and then striking... technically, that is what I did. But I do not care. There is no reason to play by the rules if they will not.

    Just as long as the corrupt fall, my conscience will always be clear..


  • Slain

    A _cloudy day, as usual. Ronan walked through the trees in the pass, the "safe" path. All was quiet along the path, even near the Legion tower where he usually sees the new recruits training on the archery targets or combat dummies.

    Venturing past the tower, he crossed the little bridge over the stream. The water flowing gently along the banks, with the birds chirping lightly within the trees. This is part of the day Ronan would enjoy. Just walking along the path, enjoying the scenery and sounds of the wild.

    He came upon a small ridge, where his peaceful walk would be interrupted. He suddenly saw a vision within his mind where an arrow would strike him in the chest. He side-stepped an arrow that soon came flying right where he predicted just a few seconds ago… his premonition ward that he had cast for the trip warning him of the impact before it happened. His grey gaze turned to look down at several Hoarran archers several yards off, with infantry clammering up the small ridge to get to him.

    He had warned the Hoarrans, during a political meeting a few days before, that any who attacked him would suffer death. The Hoarrans at the meeting said that was "understandable." So Ronan prepared his spells to fight, first placing more wards to further protect him and make him near invulnerable to their simple arrows and swords.

    Gesturing and chanting, the earth rumbled as Ronan summoned an elemental of that same element near the charging infantry. They stopped dead in their tracks at the huge thing, but after their pause, they attacked it. With the elemental in the way, the archers could no longer hit the one who summoned it, so they decided to chip it down and attempt to kill it. Though that gave Ronan the time to cast his other offensive spells, which proved to be too much for them. They fell from the fire and ice, having no chance to escape as the spells killed them near-instantly... as Ronan would not let them suffer either way.

    Soon all was quiet, not even the birds continued to sing their song in the trees. The Hoarrans did manage to destroy the elemental, but at the cost of their own lives.

    Ronan approached to assess the damage, a neutral look upon his face. His conscious was clear as he gave clear warning to their leaders. Though he noticed something... or someone rather.

    He approached one of the slain Hoarrans. One of the archers, who appeared to be a young woman... too young. He knelt down, placing a hand upon her brow to brush some of the hair from her face, the red hair. She looked nearly like his wife, Ah'ria. Half of her face was burned from his magical flame, her arm crushed from one of the shards of an ice storm.

    A sigh escaped his lips and suddenly his conscious was not clear. This woman died to protect her home from some perceived threat that a misguided mad man told her of. As soon as she fired her arrows, she had absolutely no chance to survive, no chance to return home to her friends, or possibly her family.. she was dead because of Ronan, a man who possessed a good amount of power that ordinary men and women couldnt hope to defend themselves against. He knew it wasn't all his fault, for this woman attempted to kill him as well, and she would've taken him from Ah'ria if she were the stronger one...

    "It shouldn't be this way.." Ronan thought.. and he suddenly felt as if he cared about this tradegy, when he has seen so much already. It isn't often that he is forced to kill humans, elves, dwarves or halflings... it's usually always a monstrous creature of sorts. But as he looked upon this young woman's face, he felt remorse, thinking of his wife... if fate had somehow made him live in the Gypsy camp, and his wife one of the scouts... to be slain by an individual she stood no chance against.

    He suddenly heard shouts coming from toward the Gypsy camp, they jarring him from his thoughts. He slowly stood, taking one last look at the dead young woman, before lifting his gaze to look toward the clammering camp that was preparing to send out reinforcements. Ronan began to walk briskly to the south toward Norwick, avoiding any further confrontation.

    Some days later, Ronan again found himself in the pass at that same ridge. This time, two mages prepared their spells and ran toward him to fight.

    Gesturing and chanting, Ronan tossed the hand of bigsby, holding one in place as the large magical hand one of the mages firmly. The other looked over and saw his comrade struggling, pausing in his steps. The young mage looked at Ronan, who spoke without casting further spells toward the two

    Ronan said, "Leave me be, gentlemen.."

    The Hoarran then looked at his comrade again before looking to Ronan, and then he jerked his head south, saying "Go.."

    Inclining his head, Ronan walked past the two, leaving them alive as he headed to Norwick. The young hoarran mage tending to his partner, making sure the spell wore off and that his friend was unharmed, and he was unharmed, sustaining no injuries from the bigsby spell.

    Ronan seemed highly satisfied with the result of that situation. Not because his display of magic made the Hoarrans think twice, but because no lives were lost this time around..._

    Soon after, as if the gods themselves witnessed his moment of mourning for the lives he took a few days before, the boats between Peltarch and Norwick were up and running again. Ronan could then avoid all confrontation with the young Hoarrans in the pass on his way to and from Norwick and Peltarch..

    ((Strange AI incident. Thanks to LD for helping me with an IC reason for it.))


  • A Graceful Pardon

    A situation arose today that seemingly came up at a perfect time. Perfect in the sense that it tested my conscience.

    A minor criminal was brought before the magistrates, a sorceress who assaulted someone. The residing magistrate decided that two years of petrification and the removal of the woman's hand was a just sentence. Did I really care about this woman and what sentence she received? No, I didn't, not at first. Though another part of me did not wish for Peltarch to turn into another Oscura. This harsh punishment would be a step in that direction.

    I was asked my opinion on the matter, so I gave it. The magistrate sought to convince me that my views were wrong, just like so many others tend to do in these lands. Because of being asked of my opinion, I was wrapped in the whole situation and dragged in to decide the fate of this criminal…

    In the commons is where it was at its most tense point, at least for me. The guards had the sorceress prisoner there, so she could receive her punishment in public. Many were there, outraged at the sentence given, demanding that it be changed to a less harsh punishment. Someone mentioned to me that she could be pardoned. I hadn't really thought of it at that point, since the whole situation wasn't really my problem. But expectant eyes looked to me, wanting me to do the right thing.

    I expected to feel something then, and I did. It was bitterness. Suddenly they look to me when they need me, and when they dont, my existance is forgotten. Am I really growing this cynical?

    The prisoner was no one special. Though.. she did remind me of me in my early days. Highly defiant, using her powers for intimidation and brute force. A challenging look in her eyes, as if she could take on the world. Such a naive young woman, but I didn't learn the ways of the world with my hand cut off and unable to cast spells. It was then I felt something a little more positive, that being hope. Hope that this possibly one kind act to this woman would change her. Hope that it would better her in the days to come... just as a priestess did for me, long ago. The chances were slim that she would change, but still.. it didn't matter. I granted her pardon and saved her from the unusually harsh punishment the magistrate laid out for her.

    Most of the crowd seemed to approve, and one thanked me for the decision. Then that was that.

    The crowd began chatting and I was no longer needed.


  • Losing Faith

    I have been having this reoccuring dream. I dont know if it's a nightmare, or something I truly want deep down. It begins when I'm on the top of a t-…

    _A looming tower, the tallest of all, stood in the distance, to the east. The tower is a grey color, with no windows, and only one door inside that is kept tightly shut. No one goes in or out of this tower, no one even tries to approach it.

    On the roof of the tower stands Ronan. He looks down on the land, observing the happenings of Narfell. He doesn't feel superior to those on the land below, he doesn't feel anything at all. He merely observes. He observes the troubles the lands face. He observes both sides of the warring factions that currently plague the land, and the ones from his memories. Good and evil fight for control, while he remains locked in his tower.

    Good speaks of law, triumph, and peace. Always they preach these things, always they fight without a second thought but to save their home and loved ones. Though they are arrogant. Individuals belive their way is the correct one, that their codes and laws are the ones that should be followed. They bicker about who was most responsible for defeating a certain evil, or who is going to be the "chosen one" to protect a certain artifact of some kind. Evil has planted mistrust in them all, and they cling only to their closest friends, rather then unite.

    Evil speaks of power, destruction, and domination. It hides in the shadows, away from the light. Evil is a sickly, pale old man that wishes to prove he is not weak, and strives to tell the world that he too is powerful. Good shuns it, destroys it, drives it away, but it never quits. It hides in the night, waiting for another time to reveal itself, and should it be put into a corner, Evil will try to take as many Good or innocents as it can with it. Evil thinks only of itself and will always be there to interrupt peace because of its greed.

    Ronan watches all of this with a dull gaze. His blue robes and cloak flowing gently in the breeze atop the tower, along with his hair. He doesn't care about any of this "routine" anymore. It is tiring to try and gain the upper hand. There is no reason to care. Without him, Good would still attempt to drive off the darkness. Without him, Evil would be the same as it always is. He has been on both sides, Evil and Good. But on neither side did he feel that he is accomplishing anything with the gifts granted to him. The only time he would feel anything, is when his love graces him with a smile. He can protect her, and he doesn't need to remain in these lands to do it.

    As the dream ends, the tower vanishes from existance… and Narfell ceases to be a worry for him._

    After describing the dream, there's a bit more written.

    It's a haunting dream, but it feels right. I feel as if the troubles in this place hold no more meaning to me, and it is only because of some sense of routine that I continue to fight. I guess it's also my hatred of losing that I stay, and it's now only a game to me that I must win.

    I look upon the citizens of Peltarch, and they look like insects. They believe what they want to believe, and they go about their lives ignorant of almost everything outside the walls. A colony of bees or ants. I find myself uncaring of them, and I dont like that. Why do I feel this way? I tried to look upon the recent suffering in the docks, to offer food or gold. But my heart felt nothing as I looked upon their frightened faces. My best friend died to a Bebelith, and I hardly look twice. Ships of innocents crash and burn, and I shrug my shoulders. The bardess was captured, and I didnt even think about wanting to rescue her.

    There is always a tradegy, always something horrible will happen… and I feel so numb to it all now. I am so very tired, so weary... too tired to care anymore. Continuing to fight is not something I want to do, but I feel I have to do out of some misplaced sense of needing to do the right thing. I tire of evil, I tire of these routines, the politics, the bickering, these people.

    I realized that I had a problem when even Shannon showed emotion when Meril was slain. Shannon seems so tired of it all too, but maybe I am getting worse.

    I dont know what to do.


  • Trust

    Ever since the images of the N'jast war have been popping up, I began to remember the betrayal of a close friend. How this friend seemed to laugh at the destruction they caused behind the scenes.

    This has made me look at everyone else differently. These strangers and acquaintances. What are their motives? Why do they want certain types of information from me? I find my thoughts only thinking of the worst of people, and to be perfectly honest, I think that is best. It is a good defense so that this wont happen again. My judge of character has obviously not been the best over the years.

    There are few I keep close. Few that I can rely on. I thought this was something uncommon, as most people in Narfell seem to be friendly with each other and give out trust easily. But I've met people who may have thoughts like my own currently. Such as Shannon. He only kept those he deeply trusted close. Though I dont think I'm a husk of a man, but from what I heard, I can understand why he is the way he is.

    I do wonder though, that if I try to every flaw in an individual, will it turn out for the worst? Or if I find someone with few fatal flaws, will it prove to be better? I suppose I could write an example of each. First, the worst.

    Rith. I know she is good hearted, but she has a few flaws that make me edge away from trust. I can trust that she'll destroy evil to the best of her abilities, but I can also trust her to alienate herself from me and my friends by being somewhat demanding. She does not see it, nor is it overly obvious, but it's there. In a group, she tries to lead. She tries to take command and say what will happen and where. She also receives criticism quite harshly, but is quick to give it out with little cause or reason. Can I trust her? In a battle to fight evil, yes. Can I trust her wisdom? No.

    An example for my second question in the paragraph above ("If I find someone with few fatal flaws, could it be better?") would be Mariston. The two of us argued much in the senate chambers. Which I suppose isn't a surprise. He has many codes he must follow, and I've my own morales. That aside, I can trust him to be fair in him agreeing or disagreeing with something, since he has good reasons for his side of an argument, which always make sense. I can trust him to be reliable in battle, much like Rith. Though, I can also trust him to have good reason for whatever opinion he gives, whether I disagree with it or not. I know what he will and will not do. He doesn't try to take command, and seems to generally want to help however he can, if he can.

    In each example, I could possibly lose an ally, or gain a reliable ally. I suppose it can have its benefits and drawbacks of being overly critical. You'll end up with a group of those you can trust, but the group will be small, and everyone else will possibly show disdain toward you for ignoring, pushing away, or not accepting them. Is that what I want? Perhaps. The smaller the group, the less chance I will be betrayed again.


  • Great Challenges

    Recently, I've faced a few near death experiences. It's been awhile since I have been so close to death, and even though it should worry me, it doesn't. It reminds me of the times I always sought a challenge, always sought to test my limits.

    First were the beholders in the cave. They were physically weak, but had exceptionally strong offensive abilities. Fadia was killed by them, and nearly myself. I think we were all caught off guard by that. They destroyed my elemental, whom is at least able to cause a fair amount of damage, in almost less than a second. Eventually, I risked finishing them off with flame arrows, and was lucky to resist some of their abilities. Aelthas was turned to stone when we made our final push, but was cured, and suffered no long lasting effects. Even though I enjoy challenges, I hate it when they kill one of my allies. Fadia is a strong woman, and I know she will make a full recovery.

    The second was a balor, whom captured Thorn. That fight was certainly challenging. I launched all my offensive spells toward it, but it was resiliant not just to magic, but to pain. Rith was killed, but was saved by Lathander. I know that feeling, where a god comes to pull you to your feet. That will most certainly strengthen her faith, and I'm glad that Lathander aided us in that battle. After spending nearly all my energy, and my blood, the balor was defeated. This particular balor seemed stronger than other ones I have faced… that doesn't bode well.

    The third was Lillia. A vampire. We fought her, but with half our energy. The undead and ogres before her weakened us. We did outnumber her, though her power was great, and she was able to fend us off... so it ended in a stand off. Lycka didn't seem happy that I tried to destroy her, and I told her that I would honestly attempt to destroy the vampire anytime I could. I think Lycka seems too friendly with Lillia, as Aelthas is with the devil Samantha. Perhaps I should try to see it in their eyes, but I cant... not after what Kara had become. I know that these two evil beings will try to manipulate them, as Kara did to me.

    These three close calls were fairly close to each other. I should be more careful. For now, I've been taking it easy as much as I can. I really dont want to make Ah'ria worry. She did hate when I did go to seek challenges just for the fun of it. What a silly boy I was back then.

    These close calls aside, things seem to be going relatively well with my friends. There's been no arguments, and only cooperation for awhile now. It's good when there's a common goal, it seems to bring folks together, and forget any small arguments in the recent past. Though this may be due to the fact Jerrick is not currently here. We'll see once he returns.


  • The Blood Line

    Recent dreams have had me thinking a bit. I thought to write down the cause of them, or should I say, the history of them.

    My father was a politician from Waterdeep. By what I've heard of him, he was a kind man. He was my human side. I only know him as "Mr. Redralen." He ventured to Silverymoon, to do some business with the elves apparently, I'm not sure what. That is where he met my mother.

    My mother was a sorceress, and at the time she met my father, she appeared sane. She was middle-aged for an elf. Often, she would see my father do his business with her family, and they exchanged glances from time to time. Eventually, they fell in love. This sounds like a happy story, much happier than the one I had originally told… where my mother was raped and I was the result. But that wasn't true on both points, I was lied to back then.

    Mother was very talented in mind manipulations. She used her gifts to manipulate my father purely for physical pleasures and not for love. So... you could say it was the other way around. When her family began to find out about it, she had my father killed, to "get rid" of the evidence, and then went into exile... far off in the woods of Silverymoon.

    Ah'ria and I found her, eventually. While we were there to meet Ah'ria's father, we did a bit of detective work, with the help of her father. My mother fooled me with her feigned kindness, admittedly, but not Ah'ria. This is where the two of us found out about my bloodline.

    Apparently my great grandfather, of several generations ago, was a great innate caster. As far as I know, he used his powers for the better, but someone powerful is not without enemies. Eventually, he was defeated in a magic fight, but was not killed... instead, a curse was placed upon his blood. All the children gifted with magic in future generations in my blood line would grow insane as their power grew more and more. Well, either insane or have a strong lust for more power.

    A few of my past relatives found ways to cope with the curse, and keep it locked inside. For a time, my curse did rule me. Though the priestess Celestria, and the light of Torm kept it in a prison within my mind. It will never leave me, but it can be controlled. Much meditation, and an "anchor" that distracts my mind from terrible thoughts. My beloved Ah'ria and my friends are the anchor.

    Though it seems that myself and a few friends are in a bit of a rough patch. So the dreams surface themselves. I feel awfully more tempted to fling flame, ice, and magic toward folks that irritate me. Luckily, it has been dormant so long, that it's now much weaker... and it doesn't regain complete control over my thoughts again. The worst thing that will happen is a few nightmares. Ah'ria is very good at calming me during those nights, and venting negative thoughts to Aelthas seems to work as well, as these two listen to my burdens the most.

    Only Ah'ria knows of my "curse" though. I dont think there's any need to anyone else of it. There's enough to worry about in Narfell, and as long as its under control, there's no need to push it onto others.

    Many have their own problems these days. Tindra seemed annoyed with me for the first time, when I gave her my thoughts, and it's exceptionally difficult to annoy Tindra. Perhaps I did sound like I was trying to make her look like a badguy, but that is not how I meant it. I should choose my words more carefully.

    It seems Jerrick and Rith are having a falling out as well. I dont know about what, but I am very curious. I wanted to ask Rith about it, but she seemed in no mood when others were trying to talk to her. So I left her alone before I made anything worse.

    Fadia seems to be dragged along for the ride. She seems to look up to Rith a lot. I'm not sure if it's out of admiration or some deeper feelings. Though I believe she wants companionship. She revealed to me some things about her husband. It must be difficult for her..

    Vash seems a good conversationalist, and he mentioned that he trusted me in idle chatter. Even if it was just a casual mention, it meant something to me. Yes yes, I do like to be noticed and get attention... -everyone- knows that. Psh.

    Aelthas seems himself again. That's good. Now we can make fun of banites and such again, while chuckling darkly.

    Overall, most folks seem in a tense mood.. I'm one of them. Hopefully I dont let it get the best of me.


  • The Blood Line: Prelude

    _Ronan stood on a tiny island, about the size of a room. The sea of blackness outstretched to forever and beyond. In the middle of the island was a chair, where sat an individual dressed all in black, his hood drawn up, facing Ronan.

    "Must be an Oscuran.." Ronan thought, before he approached the individual.

    The individual didnt move, just simply stared as Ronan approached. From underneath the hood, Ronan could see the man smile. It was a cold smile, one he seemed to recognize for some odd reason.

    "It's been awhile, my friend." The hooded figure said.

    "Perhaps it has. Should I know you?" Ronan inquired.

    "Have you already forgotten?" The figure replied, rising up from his seat. Black robes draping about what appeared to be a skinny form. Ronan guessed it may be a spellcaster of sorts. Since this place seemed so real, he also theorized that someone may be trying to toy with his mind.

    "I forget many things. You shouldn't be surprised.." came a quip from Ronan, as usual, not taking dark hooded figures so seriously. He has seen hundreds of these types, after all.

    The figure lowered his hood, and revealed his face. Ronan's brow creased knowingly as he saw the man's face. It was himself, or… what he was in his past. The same white hair, but a paler look, and an even more arrogant look on his face. His other half had a challenging look, as if wanting Ronan to try something. Though Ronan only spoke a question..

    "Why are you here? I've dismissed you. You're done." Ronan said defiantly.

    His other half simply grinned. Gods what arrogance. So much confidence. Was he truly like this back then? He spoke a response.

    "I never left, I'm always here. Though you were strong, and the priestess did her work well. But as I said, I'll never be truly gone. Your bloodline says it is so."

    Ronan tipped his head forward, giving his former image a hard stare, "You'll stay in your prison. I will not end up like my mother.."

    "Hah! At this rate, you will. Tell me, little dove.. have your negative emotions been running strong lately? Yes, they have, haven't they. Remember that I see what you see, and know what you do. I am part of your mind, after all." The image paused a moment to gauge Ronan's reaction before continuing. "Poor child, thinking he's under-appreciated. Still unable to prove to the world how 'useful' you are, mm?"

    Ronan waved a hand to silence the image, "Enough. I wont listen to your poison. You're-"

    He was cut off, the image just chuckling that heartless chuckle, "Just admit it little boy. Dont you just want to -crush- those who speak down to you so? Who think that their words make them more powerful than you? Insects, all of them. Show them what true superiority is. Show them their last mistake... let me take care of everything."

    Ronan snapped back, "Stop it! You're not going to ruin my life again, and the lives of those I care about... they keep me strong."

    The image just looked at Ronan with a cool stare, "Give in to your insanity. It's what your bloodline is meant for.."

    Ronan gestured, and yelled out.. tossing arrows of flame at the image, and just before they hit....

    He awoke in his bed, sitting up breathing heavily... with rage it seemed. After realizing he was just back in his room in the city, he started to calm himself down. He flopped back down into his bed heavily, letting out a breath.

    A frown graced his lips as he spoke a soft whisper, "Mother..."_

    ((Thought I'd give a more detailed description of Roro's family line in the next few journals. Some happenings IG triggering this dream and giving opportunity to write about Ro's bloodline. Hope you enjoy.))


  • Low Opinions

    It seems things with one particular friend aren't getting better. Such is what happens when I am asked my opinion and express it truthfully. It has been blown way out of proportion.

    Of course, I speak of Jerrick.

    Rith had inquired on my thoughts about the situation, which happened to come up in conversation. I gave my thoughts, as true as they were. She was offended, apparently. Perhaps I should've lied and put on a smile. At least Tindra was an adult when I told her my thoughts, and listened to them with respect. She knows that I only speak them out of concern, and that she's a big girl that can make her own choices. I hope she finds her happiness.

    "I know no love." This is what Rith said to me. I must say, I was surprised to hear that, as it was the most rediculous thing I've ever heard. She's lived many years, but still seems to have the wisdom of only a young woman. Still her perceptions of me are false. I suppose being faithful to my beloved Ah'ria means I've no love in my heart, right.

    As for Jerrick, he refuses to speak to me even when I tried to talk to him about it. So much for our supposed friendship. Dismissing someone he's known for years, and listening only to a girl he's known for weeks. He now treats me like a stone block. He's aware of my presence, but doesnt acknowledge it all that much. But for some reason, I'm not terribly saddened by this. I feel no guilt for having opinions of my own, and if he wishes to be stubborn and refuse a simple conversation, then so be it. He is only proving my fears by acting this way.

    Aside from all that, there's some good news at least. I like to get the bad news out of the way, so I end on a cheery note. I like to be cheery, since it's so much fu-..

    A pause in his writing, as he starts a new paragraph. Apparently he didnt want to ramble on. It seems he does that even when he's writing things down… his mind a jumble of thoughts.

    The dracolich and hungry one are defeated. It's about time too. Now we can relax, at least for a little bit.

    I've heard that the cleansing of the old elf camp will begin soon. That'd be a noble cause to accomplish. I'm sure Ah'ria would love the elven camp if it were reborn. We'd likely spend much time there if it was restored. We'd get our own little tent, have some Silverymoon wine on those quiet nights.

    Peltarch has also been relatively calm. There's been much less rioting, and our citizens have been returned from slavery in Oscura. It's refreshing when there's not a whole lot of political nonsense to argue about. Makes the day that much easier to get through.

    On another note, I think I'm getting close to discovering a new power. It's been rough going, but I know it's almost there. For this one, I've actually had to study the spell. It's called "premonition." I've attempted to cast it once or twice, but failed… and it left my body exausted, as if I had run a marathon. Though each time it gets easier, and I am able to get further into it. I've still a good stretch before I get it down, but it'll happen sooner or later. Seeing things before they happen seems a handy ability to have.

    Anyway, Ah'ria's waiting for me to come to bed with her. Keeping her warm is something that is always fun to do.


  • Issues

    I'm starting to understand why Aelthas left these lands. Perhaps most of it was his odd feelings with being a werewolf, though a part of him feels the way I do as well. Tired, annoyed, frustrated..

    The friends I'm left with are starting to make me think differently of them, save for perhaps Tindra. She hasn't changed much, though I've not known her for too long a time. At least she listens to my opinions and thoughts, and takes them in stride. I really hope she is not hurt, because if she is… my friendship with Jerrick will be over.

    There's other things that people should worry about, but I cant help but be less than optimistic with Tindra's choice of a mate. I hope I'm wrong, but lately things are pointing in the direction of me being right.

    A new woman, or should I say, a returning woman has come to Narfell. A priestess of Lathander known as Rith. At first, this woman reminded me of Celestria. Always having words of wisdom, and wishing to help anyone in need. While the latter is true, certain personality traits of this woman have quickly changed the similiarities to Celestria. Rith's one to talk behind people's backs, even my own... which, would not bother me if she didn't do it openly in public. Her perceptions of me have been false thus far, though that isn't unusual. Hinting I am greedy and I am somehow a bully because I dont trust some woman who plays at being innocent with her over politeness and sincerety.

    Yet, Rith compliments my talent in the weave and how I use it. Not to mention, her powers combined with my own have laid waste to many a foe. I'm not sure what to make of her yet. She can be a valuable ally, yet I will guess she will also bring a lot of personal issues into the mix with her clingyness to Jerrick. I wonder if Tindra sees it, or just trusts Jerrick.

    As for Jerrick, he was once someone I enjoyed to be near. But these past few months, I find that enjoyment less and less. Perhaps because I am nearly one hundred percent sure he'll break Tindra's heart. Tindra reminds me of Ah'ria, my fiance.. very vulnerable. I mean, if I was inviting another woman up to my home often, Ah'ria would be hurt by it. Perhaps it's just me, but Jerrick seems to be hanging onto Rith as well.

    By the gods, you best prove me wrong Jerrick.

    Aside from all that, the recent adventures gave us reason to forget personal issues... and focus on fighting a common enemy. Team work and cooperation... it excited me that we worked so well together. Grog's axe, Rith's healings, my destructive spells, Jerrick's calling of nature to aid.. it was fantastic. While, on a few of these ventures we did nearly lose several of our own. Even if our wounds were great, we still banded together to fight. I hope it will always be like this, and I hope we will always come out on top.


  • No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

    These past few weeks have been tiring. The first events being the death of two allies and friends.

    The first being a sorcerer named Attentus. I barely knew him, though from what I've seen, he had power that nearly matched my own. He did not like to reveal and show off his tricks like I do, and he seemed more reserved and calm. He looked a good role model for us impulsive sorcerers. I wonder if that is how I will be when I am older.

    The second friend being Telli. Twas surprising to learn that she had fallen.. I thought it nearly impossible to do so. She knew her blessings well, and rarely did I see a scratch on her whenever we ventured. To think that she will no longer be there to help when the next huge threat takes Narfell… it seems like it is unreal. The deaths made me take a further interest in my more closer friends. Dark thoughts saying that they too may be taken away sometime soon.

    The most recent being Tindra. She's told me her secrets, deep secrets. To be honest, I was not surprised when she told me her story. As in, the events that happened to her seemed nothing new to me. The very strangest of things always happen here in Narfell. The only thing that bothered me was that it happened to someone like her. She's a blood mage like myself, and I see only kindness in her. Admittedly, I rolled my eyes when she told me her love for Jerrick. While the man has a decent heart... his relationships never end well, though I cant really blame him for Kara.

    Speaking of Jerrick, I've been watching him. He seems to be taking all the responsibilities he thinks he has poorly. Anger and frustration are all I see in his eyes, and it reminds me of my past self. Last I saw him he seemed more calm, and I hope he can remain that way. He's a valuable friend and ally. Perhaps I should ask him and my other friends on more walks, it seems to relax their minds of their current troubles. Even if giant Bullettes are trying to bite our heads off.

    Things in the city have been going poorly as well. I cannot stand the senate. No matter how hard I try, it seems not enough there. I lost control of my emotion, my magic seeping out when I didn't intend it to. The words of a bitter paladin driving me to near insanity. But I should be used to that routine by now. Everyone saying, "If only you had listened to -my- ideas, everything would be all right." Are most people really that full of themselves? Was that what I was like as a fledgling sorcerer? I cant remember, but I wouldn't be surprised. It seems Ah'ria was right all along... it's sucking the life out of me, but I want to help. There must still be a way I can help. I must stay strong and keep focus.

    Despite all the bad, there is good in my life. Ah'ria, all my friends. Remember them, and remember that they'll always be there with you...

    After writing the last, small paragraph, he rips off that part of the page. He folds the ripped portion up, tucking it in a pocket on the inside of his shirt for safe keeping..


  • Conservation

    I've been rather busy lately. I haven't found time to write in this journal, and I look over the past entries with a hint of amusement.

    Narfell seems to have a pattern of peace and then complete chaos, before peace finds its place again, and so on and so forth. I've found myself in less battle situations, and instead, in situations of a political kind. I admit, blasting things to bits is a lot more fun to me. Though winning arguments also gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling.

    It is rare that I must use all my power in a given battle. I was forced to do so during the drow siege. I could hold nothing back. Sometimes I forget what my potential is, since I have been conserving more and more. It's ironic though, since years ago I'd go insane not casting some type of spell on a daily basis. I was doing it all wrong back then, and I believe now that Mystra has helped calm my fires unless I truly need to use them. Though I know that my beloved has helped as well… her smile melts away any anger I may have encountered throughout my day. Perhaps that is why I can find cheer even in the most darkest of times.

    Some are not that way, however. Many have sunk into the "doom and gloom" mood as I like to call it. I dont blame them. All I can do is hopefully lighten their spirits a bit by being... er... by being me I suppose.

    I will keep this short, as my thoughts are currently jumbled at the moment. Once peace again finds Narfell, even if for a moment, I shall write more..


  • Troubled Times

    It is looking like the relative peace after the N'jast war is starting to fade completely. Lives go back to normal, petty differences arise again. Things are starting to happen, corruption of a demonic sort spreading through the southern woods. Slowly having being built up, and most of the time, we do not know what to do about it other than fight it off.

    While problems to the south are severely worse, there are still some where I make my home, which is to the north in Peltarch. Powerful undead hide in the city, and an underground city attempts to make itself look "pure." I am not sure which is more irritating… likely the underground city, since I can just blast undead away that show up in Peltarch. Speaking out against Oscura, which is the underground city, falls upon deaf ears most of the time. I feel like I am in Norwick again when I'm in that senate room. Everyone shrugging it off like it is no big deal. A society centered around slavery and dark diety worship is not something to shrug off. They continually justify themselves with "it's the law." There is no justification for taking someone's freedom..

    Which makes me ponder another subject, that being politics. Politics make things overly complicated in my mind. Some things are just black and white, but politics doesn't care if it's that simple.. it will just complicate it more. They can make a man forget his values and ideals.

    If all that wasn't enough, the assassins are still watching me. Giving me an illusion of safety. Hopefully the next time they strike, it will just be for me and not someone else. With none of theirs in prison, they will not need to murder citizens to get to the one in prison and murder them. It is odd to me, though I shouldn't be surprised... their whole life is centered around assassinations and murder. That they would kill their own for making a mistake. It seems as if it has been too long since I was one of them, and I am forgetting how to think like them. I will count that as a good thing.


  • A Helping Hand

    I went on some other adventure, and it was strange. Though the strangeness was not the highlight of it this time. Usually odd things fascinate me, but no, something else happened that was very…. good.

    I was in the form of a fire giant. I could explain why I was in that form, but that would take a long while to explain. Though because of my bulky, tall state, I was trapped between several slaadi and a tiny doorway which I could barely fit in. So they tossed their magics and their fists, and I fell. As the darkness crept in, I didn't feel dispair, I seemed to feel calm.. and at first, I did not know why. I suddenly felt no more pain, and a warmth in my blood, but I was alive. I stood up and simply walked back out of the fray, my form returned to normal, and thus I was unable to unleash my magic on our foes.

    It was Her, the Lady of Mystries. She saw fit to ensure my survival, and for the first time since my attonement, I felt the eyes of a non-dark diety upon me. It made me think of priests and paladins. Do they always feel the eyes of their diety upon them? Is that calm feeling the same they feel when they ask for their blessings? It is as if you are not alone, that someone is there to make sure you will be all right when no one else can get to you. I wonder, if anything, what She may have in store for me... or perhaps it was because I aided Her daughter Liana on a few occasions. I don't know. I never understood matters of faith.

    I'll see what the future brings.


  • Glaring Eyes

    It feels recently that I have been making choices that upset many people. I feel these choices are the right thing to do, yet it's as if no one sees through my eyes. Petty differences will shape the lives of many, and from what I've seen, destroy lives as well. Everyone believes their opinion is the one that matters, the one that has to be right, the one that is above all others.

    It amazes me how something small can effect so many. That a decision can turn glaring eyes to me, whether I am in the right or not. It makes me so angry when I am accused of something I am not. Those to the south are horribly blind by their paranoia and greed, that it is just overwhelming… and it will destroy them.

    Much has happened in the city, and I find myself growing more bitter as the days go on. It is near impossible to be happy if I stay there for long, though I do not think it is the city itself, but some of the people within. In the other towns as well, it can become overwhelmingly stressful. I believe the elven side of me is growing less fond of populated townships, and a more relaxed mood in the wilderness.

    Though I do find happiness with my love, but I upset her as well recently. She compared me to that fool of a man whom nearly destroyed her, and it made my heart sink. No words healed, and I was lost on how to let her know how much I do love her. It seems she has not truly healed from that pain yet. I wonder if she ever will. We spent the night at the inn, her in my arms, as close as I could hold her. The tears spent, though she did not mind my embrace, even when she was upset with what I did. It isn't all me that she is upset with, but with what happened before... I merely reminded her of it, which plagues me greatly. My chest hurts when I see her cry, and no one spell can just wisk that pain away from her. Helpless.

    Mayhaps it is time for a vacation, just us two... no demons, nor cranky politicians, banites, overly paranoid dwarves, or other things too numerous to mention. Just us two.


  • Betrayals

    Sometimes people just do not know how to think before they say anything, or before they perform an action. Mere misunderstandings can lead to dire consequences.

    I have seen much of this lately, in the various individuals and groups throughout Narfell. I find it gets tiring. It seems a chain reaction. Two people argue with one another, and it spreads throughout entire groups. People who witness an argument seem to think it has to do with them as well, when it has nothing to do with them. They are sad, or depressed when there is absolutely no reason to be. Perhaps a bit hypocritical, though I find they just wish attention or sympathy most of the time. It gets old very quick.

    Ronan sighs, and then continues to write another thought

    I suppose I am bitter. A recent incident has reminded me of a betrayal during the N'jast war. It upsets me greatly, and nor do I ever forgive a stab to the back. It isn't a set "policy" of mine, though I cannot seem to forgive it, no matter how hard I try. It seems this incident was a fool whom tried to talk big, and it backfired on him. There was more than one case of this. One of the cases will effect many lives, just because someone was too prideful. Just because someone could not learn to keep quiet.

    It is because of this, I was forced to kill a young man in my own defence… even though I had nothing to do with the situation in the first place. I simply walked down the pass, and was attacked, for no reason... only because I was a stranger to those who occupy the pass. The young man was given the order to attack on sight. He charged me, and he seemed confident in himself at first, though also hesitant at the same time. I admit that if you do not know me, I may not look very intimidating, and an easy target. My hands moved, the spell on my finger tips... my form now etheral. He attempted to stab me, to no avail. His weapon and his strength were not strong enough to penetrate my defense. I bid him to stop, though he did not, seeming determined. That is when I created fire around my form, to perhaps scare him off... it did not work, still he persisted, and killed himself on my fire. Why is it he continued? Perhaps he is that dedicated to defend his home, perhaps he really thought I was coming to cause harm to his home.

    I gave one of theirs the means to purchase a diamond to maybe raise the young man. It was not something I wanted to happen.

    Because of the pride of someone, that possibly innocent man lay dead by my hand..


  • Choices

    It has been a quiet few weeks. The assassins have not come back for more blood, yet. I suppose it is good that things have gone slow. It leaves us time to mingle with friends and loved ones, until the next threat pops up.

    It seemed to give a particular person time to come up with questions for me. Questions of choices I would make in a given situation. Aelthas was this person, whom I've fought along side with on several occasions and on many difficult adventures. The questions were out of nowhere, and he seemed keen on getting something from me. His wife, Lycka, also asked me a few questions. Questions such as: How important is freedom to you and what lengths would you go to ensure the people's freedom? What is it like having power in the arcane and official sense?

    I was unsure what to make of all of it. I answered truthfully, if I could answer at all. I guessed at the start that I had to answer in a certain way so I could be invited to some special adventure of sorts. But at the end, I'm not even sure if that was the case. Perhaps he means to ask his other friends, and I am flattering myself that his only interest is in my answers. That is usually the case with these things, admittedly. I am not always the center of attention, as much as I would like to be.

    I admitted to them that with my powers, I did feel I was better than some others. That some are just mere insects to me. But who does not think this way when they do have an inner power that none or few others could do? Certainly not just the evil-minded. Some such as Shannon or Aramuil quite obviously think this way. I do not like thinking less of others or thinking that they are nothing compared to me, but it bites at the back of my mind. I do my best to hide it, unlike the two mentioned.

    I do know that it is also a weakness, to rely so heavily on my gift. For if it is taken away, I would be weak, I would be unable to defend those I care for… I would be scared.