Tales By The Fire

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  • Jyni

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  It had been a week since her prayers and she found herself wondering if it worked. Do the gods hear them at all or are they just there to play and torment us. Many must be praying at the same time she surmised. It could be I need something to get more attention to her prayer like she had thought once before at the altar. She scoffed and shook her head trying to clear it .. “These hopes of getting help are getting me nowhere.” She needed real power, just for a brief moment, and she needed a real path to that power. She found herself rubbing the leather of her black book. She placed the book back on the stand and continued working on its teachings. She gloved her hands looking down at the table her eyes barely visible behind the helm she always wore in Oscura. It muffled her voice as she talked to the lifeless body on the table “The book has real power, methods to make one more powerful and even those must hold some sort of sustained magic until used. Perhaps a battery of some sort .. a magic battery which could hold the magic until I required it. Build it up and then release in one massive spell.” She smiled at her idea while she soaked the rags and applied them to the corpse. “Not certain this will work for you but will will try.” She wrapped the body like she had seen the mummies wrapped in the crypt. Using the solution from the book the reasoned the solution would do the same to dead skin as her would to hers. She already felt she was more durable, why that was she wasn’t entirely sure, this was a way to find out. “Ok then”. She raised her hands and cast negative energy into the corpse .. the ray glowing red illuminated the rest of the room. She struck it 3 times and nodded. “Let’s see how you are in a few days.” She threw the gloves in the fire and collected all the left over parts of the mixture she had made to soak the rags. One by one she put them into the fire and watched them burn. Certain things seemed to take magical fire to successfully get rid of so the burning hands spell she found had become very handy. She packed everything that was left and wrapped her book in its special case tucking it away. She needed to find a permanent place where she didn’t have to hide all the components, mixtures, and experiments. The Priest should be able to help there. She thought as she cast invisibility and slipped out of the room, through the doors and into the city. As she walked, nodding to the other citizens politely, she couldn’t help but to think about the Altar, The Priests, the Promises, “Where is he .. he promised to help ..” by the time she entered the cave, It was Onyx who was in full control. Wielding a two handed sword she cut her way through the KoaToa not even stopping to grab their belongings. She ascended the stairs looking back at the group who followed her laying motionless on the floor. She felt better .. putting away her sword and casting invisibility again, she entered the snake cave and looked around . In a dark corner she removed her helm, sighing a bit of relief as she did. She quickly tucked it away and moved into the forest, stopping by the water to rinse herself of the nastiness of battle. She paused watching the blood disappear into the water, clean, and refreshed, it was never there in the first place. The stream carrying all the nastiness out to sea eventually, she thought. She splashed clean water on her face and as the ripples died down she caught her reflection in the water. She tried to remember the last 12 hours, it was all a bit fuzzy, some like a dream, some parts very real. “If I don’t remember then it must not have happened” she whispered to her reflection. Smiling she rose, clean, refreshed, ready to go once more into the world and find her friends.
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  Value of Coins - Isendir's Musings.
  • Attentus

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  Been a while since i wrote a journal entry. Met a werewolf, Aelthas - who didn't tell me how to tame my 'inner worg'. Felt left out alone after that. Well, C'est la vie - such is life. Adventured a while, killed some worgs in a team then felt Nature's Call and travelled for a while in the woods exploring. During these travels, i felt love for woods, for nature. Perhaps a Ranger awakened in me. Have to talk with Ting about that. -- Isendir, newly awakened Ranger.
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  The Underhill Files
  • Fadia

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  A meticulously detailed rendering what appears to be a card back adorns this page in Roslyn's journal, showing a sphynx's face in front of a complex floral pattern. A coded entry into Roslyn's journal follow's on the following page. "What's easy to get into, but hard to get out of?" 'Trouble' was my answer and, Yondalla preserve me, I don't think I could have been more right. I guess it started with Vick getting a report from his Far Scouts. Constructs in the crypts - while certainly a step up from undead - warranted some investigating. It was a hard fight at first. One of our party, some knight with more brawn than sense, rushed into the tomb and nearly got himself killed. He'd left as soon as we got him on his feet, apparently deciding that whatever was down there wasn't worth the trouble. Trouble. Now that I think on it, maybe I'm the one lacking in sense. I mean whatever else you can say about him, the guy didn't wind up in the shit I'm in now. We're in, now. It wasn't long after he left that we saw the Sphinx for the first time. Not a true sphinx, mind, but a construct. He asked, "What is a warrior's worst enemy?", and I rattled off a series of passive-aggressive quips about our recently-departed knightly friend. All of which were, technically true - but none of which were the answer he sought. The sphinx turned back and disappeared into the crypt. We worked our way through the constructs. Cleared out the first room with some effort and more than a little trial and error. Vick and I did some scouting. Found one room full of some constructs that I couldn't quite make out. Going another way, we found three floating suits of armor. We went for the latter and made quick work of them. Pressing on, we found a huge bone golem. Again, it went down with a minimum of fuss. Then they sent Vick and I in to scout the next room. And gods damn, do I wish I'd seen sense like our knight. The room itself was empty, save for some interesting architectural choices. Large and mostly open, though part of it was gated off with another doorway beyond. As Vick scouted the room, I made for that. Upon entering, I found our Sphinx once more, who invited me into "his lair". That's always what a girl wants to hear, by the way. Just ask her into your lair and she'll swoon, I swear to fucking Brandobaris. I said something about needing a moment, and told Vick what I'd seen. Told him to get the others in case things went pear-shaped. As he went off to gather them, I stepped in. He didn't attack. He didn't make a move. All he did was ask, "What's easy to get into, and hard to get out of?" "Trouble", I answered. And that's when he opened his mouth, and out dropped a deck of cards. Magical cards. I went forward to pick them up, and before I could look back, he'd vanished. Leaving, I found our party coming up on the room, ready to do battle. But the tomb was quiet. No sphinx, no other constructs. The ones we'd seen earlier but not fought had disappeared just as well as the Sphinx had done. We made our way back to the surface, where I told them what I'd found. Told them my plan was to have a bard cast legend lore on it (by the way, turns out Nate didn't really need to, since he was able to tell me what it was mostly without assistance. Always good to know some bards.) which the party seemed to be mostly amenable towards. But something happened then as I went to put them away. The party started eyeing the deck. Moving for me. I've seen this happen before - hells, last time it happened I only got out of it by slipping an ioun stone on to Artemis. But as much as I may have liked the party I was with, there was nobody there that I can honestly say I'd trust nearly enough to do that. So I ran. And they instantly gave chase. Not that it did them much good. I lost them pretty quickly in the alleys, and ran for the college to get a letter to Nate and Isolde. Crept out to try and contact some Ceruleans I know, only to hear that now there's a warrant out for me, and a bounty on my head. Which is all well and good, except....five hundred gold? Really? Come on, Peltarch. You can do better. Notes left, I went into hiding. Until now, when thank the fucking gods I can call in some friends in the guard and the Ceruleans to get me un-fugitivized and look this damned thing over. Anyway, Nate tells me that what I have is a Deck of Hazards. Old Narfellian magic, it sounds like.. I've got it hidden for now, and I'm not telling anyone where just yet. Some others know how to open the box I've put it in. I think instead of giving a location, maybe I'll find some other way to lead them to it if needed. This thing can't be used.
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  The Book Of Willow
  • Karnivor

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  Perched ontop of a half crumbled wall at Pixies Roost, the skinny half-elf lets her gaze drift across the cliffs and towering forests around her, then turns her eyes up towards the sky, where dawn is just about to break through the night's embrace. A soft grey mist cloaks the ground below, the first pale rays of light turning each tiny drop of moisture into sparkling diamonds. Willow watches, spellbound, the raw cold seeping through her layered clothing ignored until the moment's passed. Then she shivers, hops down from her perch and stirs new life into the slumbering coals of the night's campfire. While fragrant tea simmers in a small dented pot of hot water, she writes: "Growing up, huh? Turning sensible always struck me as booOOooring. Growing up implied, somehow, doing the 'normal' thing, the same as everyone else, falling into a rut of the mundane and taking no risks beyond putting food on the table, probably with a litter of needy runts clutching ones skirts. A fate worse than death, thought the younger me, thrashing and wailing at the smallest attempt at making an adult out of her. But maybe it's my reasoning that's stuck in a rut of late. If I redefine to my own mind what it means to grow up, would it really be that bad? All things change, but ones old ways of thinking often linger even when circumstances change around us. I'm no exception to that, not really. I need to change too, don't I? Stamina, you said knowingly. I flustered inside, wanting to protest that I 'do' have stamina, I can go on and on and on so long as it feels right, so long as I'm doing what I love. But I bit my lip. That's not what you meant, I know just what you meant and to pretend differently would be pathetic. Sticking it out when the journey's 'not' to my liking, when there's blood, death and hardship, when my heart is heavy and low. Pacing myself, when my party bleeds and my fingers itch to dispense another blessing, reigning myself in when I long to let loose. Standing still, when the playful wind tells me to run and cavort, oh it's the hardest one of all! So that's where I'll start - with myself. I'll never be a stealthy ranger, watchful and quiet, a shadow passing by unnoticed - but I can practice a few other things. If I'm to manage taming any wild beast (or rather calming them 'cause I don't really want to coerce), I need to find that calm in myself first. 'Patience, Willow' - words a thousand times repeated, often with a sigh, a command instinctively rebelled against, but it's different, isn't it, if it's ~me~ saying it? Patience. This is going to be a tough one, Shaundakul! But I think I need it, I need to fight past the sense that I failed as a ranger, that I'm nothing without your grace. It seems contrary, but I kinda feel that focusing on me rather than you right now will make me a better priestess, 'cause I'm the one that needs to change. I won't become 'too' grown up though, no worries about THAT! Just the sort of grown up that's learned to be ready for all eventualities, yet still welcoming, no actively seeking surprises, new paths and secret places to discover! I went with sensible, for my reward too. I'd dreamed loftily of finding the EPIC pair of boots, winged, spring-loaded, soaked in ~amazingness~ masked by an unassuming worn-out look. I searched high and low, through countless dusty bins and reeking goblin containers, enjoying the looking and never quite minding the total lack of result. But yeah, alright - growing up means letting go of childish things, to an extent anyway. So practical boots it is, comfortable and sturdy, but I'm still Willow. So while I let an airy, aimless quest go, I built the boots with the aim of being able to follow a more specific dream. This insulation against electricity is 'just' what I need to explore the unchartered realms of the quasi-elemental plane of, yes, you know it, lightning!"
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  Eclectic Ramblings
  • StCroix

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  And wait.... one gives heartfelt compliments.... and he is handsome.... let barriers down... why? will only get hurt again.... * she crumples the paper up * is a whisper... * she murmurs * never happen
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  A Home
  • Moon

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  The Notes on Narfell - An adventuring Journal by Filfred Fingerzap.
  • TheSandiestcomet

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  Entry 3: Rather long rest. Well! I wasn't expecting to be predisposed on the sword coast for a whole year, but things happen, don't they? Recently, after I returned, I have teleported Meriell back to Narfell, been assailed by that same damned kobold, twice! [How did he get past my traps?!] and decided that, although the Archon is damned powerful when it decides to fight, it's not the greatest creature to summon for a few reasons: A: He spends 24 seconds of the 60 second spell time casting self-improvement spells. B: He shouts a lot. It's giving me a headache.
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  The Farmer's Almanac
  • Atel

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  17th Alturiak, 1568 ~Flurries early, pristine and pearly. Winter's come calling! Can we endure so premature a falling? Some may find this trend distressing- others bend to say a blessing over sage and onion dressing~ Entry Two In my life time since taking the oaths of the druids, I have always dreamed of tasks that my goddess Sheela Peryroyl would have me do. Ways in which I could serve my people, ways I could help the farmers among them, things I would do that would keep the line between what is civilized and what is wild firm. Occasionally, these dreams would even be ways I could council a couple having trouble, once when I was young these dreams of helping a couple were about myself and a women I hope to never have to see again. But my own failings aside, the dreams are what always guided me, helped me, shown me what I need to see or ponder on in order to be better. But since the defeat of the demons my dreams have been quiet of late. The sense of listlessness I’ve felt of late has grown into a full sense of lethargy. I aid the farmers and wilds around the city where I can but there is not a lot to do there, they have their feet under them, most know what they are doing, I am simply here to support. But supporting is no longer enough, and my mind seems to be playing tricks on me these days. The other day I finally had a dream again but it wasn’t the kind one wants to have. I dreamed of my lost love, the woman that nearly destroyed me once, Lilly Harrowren, Not a mistake I’ll make twice is what I say in my mind, but my heart would gladly go through that mess again if it had the chance. So far, I haven’t given it the chance. As promised I sent a letter to my brother, Zander, who will tell my sisters as well. All of them helped me through that time, helped me stay in the right path. I promised Zander after everything had blown over that if I thought about her or dreamed of her again that I would contact him, and contact him I did, though I haven’t heard back yet. In the mean time I will continue on my current path, should the dreams of Lilly continue, I’ll record it here for history’s sake. For now, time will tell. Notes from the field There is a slight problem with cold mold wanting to grow on the crops of a field nearer a small family cemetery. Herbs have been applied to the fence line to help curb the spread of spores that direction.
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  From The Private Journal of Carol Nightinggale
  • Necrofai

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  Hey again, it's been a long time since we've talked! Sorry about that, I've just been distracted alot these days. Recently we've been having alot of trouble with dark dwarves so I went down to the hold to help out. Everyone seemed super on edge and when we were finally attacked it was wave upon wave of undead. Then they appeared, huge floating head with tons of eyes!!!! I'd never seen one before so I decided to call them Bobbleheads. Once everyone focused on the Bobblehead it fell quickly. All seemed fine until we heard a cry from upstairs. A few adventures charged upstairs to see what was happening but everything seemed fine so we left. Thinking back that might not have been the best idea based on what happened later.. Anyways, we went back down fought more undead and Bobbleheads before the dark dwarves called a truce. This was only after one of their assassins got in and murdered the town healer. On guard most of the archers and magicers were sent to guard the gate while the heavy fighters took the fight to the dark dwarves the next day. So we waited anxiously the ground shaking beneath us as we waited to see what would happen. That's when the roof caved in and everything went crazy! Dark dwarves came down from the ceiling and one gravely injured Lady Kathea who retreated behind me to recover. When the dwarf ran to follow her I shouted out encouragements to boost moral. Unfortunately that also meant the dwarf turned to smack me. I personally think he just hated bards.... Anyways I ducked away cause he hit hard!!! That's when a Bobblehead came in through the roof. It fixed one eye on me and then nothing. All I remember is waking up on the floor of the Bard College with a sore back and a throbbing headache. So I sit in the commons penning this and nursing this nasty headache. I hope to talk to you later but for now I must bid you.... Good Night!
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  WINGS
  • Dragon Sai

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  Rising Embers - Tale of the Fireborn
  • Turmadin

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  The backroom in the Ferret is quiet, the smell of perfumed women and incense burning hangs heavily in the air as Karrick spoons some fish stew into his mouth. His eyes follow the brass wyrmling as it crawls across the table, it playfully batting a small chunk of meat around before it pounces on it, trapping it between it's two claws hands and gnawing on it happily. “Does it taste good, Bass? I think it could use a bit more salt, myself.” The little wyrmling turns it's dark amber eyes towards him, a small chirp coming from him as he turns back to gulp down the rest of the meal. “Right, guess it is good." Karrick lets out a deep chuckle. “As promised, I will recount the tales of adventures had. I wish I could bring you on them, but they are far too dangerous for you.” Bass claws at the table with his tiny claws, a low rumble coming from his throat in defiance of the danger he might face; Karrick laughs scooping another piece of the fish from the stew bowl and setting in on the table for the small dragon. “When you are older, we will fly the skies together my friend.” “So what do you wish to hear about? The Bronze Dragonflight? The inferno of the Holy Fires of Kossuth?” He peers curiously at the wyrmling as he recites the the choices, waiting for any sign of what the dragon might want to hear. Bass tilts his head back and forth as the titles are mentioned but gives no sign as to what preference he may have. “Alright, let's start from the beginning then.” “The Bronze Dragonflight, not even sure how to explain them.” “Another storm rolls over the Jewel. Boom, boom. You can hear the lightning in the distance but the group of ragtag adventurers don't worry so easily about simple storms.” “A man walks in, colorful in dress, quick with words. A deck of cards in his hands as he shuffled them with a mischievous grin on his face. Trouble? Likely. Pick a card, any card. The big half orc walks up immediately. His stink of urine and feces; green skin full of warts and puss filled boils!" Karrick stands as tall as he can, hunch-backed as he moves around the table. Grunts escape him on occasion as he mimics the hulking half-orc. “Mez druh cardz!” Karrick sticking a finger in his nose as if picking something out of it; holding the fingers out to Bass who recoils and lets out a hiss. “Mez smurt! Mez Erurk! Huhuhuhuh!” “What card did he draw? The other adventurers are curious. They peek slowly around the boil and pimple covered halfer to look. The castle card!" Karrick gasps. “The skinny priestess of the wind god flies about like a raging tornado at the sight! Castle, castle she cries out! Around and around she goes!" Karrick twirls around in circles as the little dragons head follows his movements, letting out a whimper as it staggers a bit, dizzy from watching the twirling man. “Our formidable scout enters the picture! Like, what are we doing!” Karrick twirling his hair with a finger, a dumb grin on his face. “I can scout! Yay! I have a bow! Yay!” “Now the hero enters, the charming and smooth talking half-dragon. He of course MUST be the true hero. Right? We will get back to him later though. Together the four adventurers wait and suddenly darkness takes them, then a flash of light!” "Where are they? They look around slowly and see only mold covered bricks, the sturdy wooden door with a bar filled window in it. A prison? They discuss their plans, but before they can decide the charming and handsome half-dragon rips the door from the wall, giving a small smile back to the two ladies in the group and they swoon, oh how they swoon as they view his muscular frame. The puss covered halfer stands there dumbfounded, then again his finger goes to his nose; finding the intoxicating nibblets inside and delivering it disgustingly right into his mouth. A horrible sight." Bass lets out a soft gagging sound as he curls up into a ball on the table, his eyes focused on Karrick as he tells the story. "The Guards outside are stunned, perhaps by the fact that prisoners are escaping, perhaps by the mere presence of the group. The Priestess runs forwardas fast as a gust of wind, excited to see others in their journey and trips over a stone on the floor, tumbling head long into the Guards and all six of the Guards get knocked out the window! Falling to their gruesome deaths!" Karrick holds up his arms and screams out with a fading sound as he pretends to be falling, his arms flailing about wildly as he disappears under the sight of the table. Bass crawls up and peers over the edge of the table at Karrick and lets out a little growl. "The halfer goes to the next door, sniffing at the air. His one eye bigger then the other as he peers through the bars. Uh, fudz in dere? He asks and the others make their way to peer into the cell across from them. Prisoners! Yuan-ti, kobolds, lizardmen and saurials all!" "We must like.. save them all, the scout declares as she knocks an arrow to her mighty bow and lets loose at the doors! The arrows flying ahead yet the bow flinging back and hitting her square in the face!" Karrick holding out an imaginary bow as he lets the arrow loose then acts like the bow hits him in the face and he stumbles back and hits the wall. "Like.. that hurt, the scout says, yet somehow she tripped the mechanism to open all the doors at once! The prisoners are released! Horray! The prisoners rushing out and thanking the group for being their saviors." Karricks voice then deepens, he moves back into the shadows of where the lantern fire hasn't lit up the room, his face cloaked by the darkness in the corner. Bass moves up to the edge of the table, peering at him in anticipation. "But then she appears." "Dark robed, eyes of infernal fire. Dragging behind her a dragon of pure bronze, chains grapsed tightly in the woman's hand to around the neck of the mighty creature! You shall not take my dragon! She is here to help create my army! The woman says to the band of adventurers." "Release that beautiful creature or face our wrath! The half-dragon making his way to the front of the group and demanding of the woman." "Just then it happened." Karrick says softly, letting a long pause build as Bass leans in closer, waiting and watching him. "The halfer sneezes and just then the boils on his face pop under the pressure, the green tinged goo flying out and soaking the womans arms. They begin to melt, the skin dripping away and the bone joining the melted pile of body on the floor beneath her. She lets out a scream and falls to her knees!" Karrick drops to his knees and hides his arms behind his back the best her can. "Please spare me the woman pleads up to the group. The half-dragon marching forward to her and knocking her to the ground." "We shall spare you, we are the heroes after all." Karrick gives a charming smile down to the imaginary woman as he speaks. "The dragon is grateful to be free of her bonds and showers the heroes with gifts! The saviors! This is how the Bronze Dragonflight took to the skies once more! This is the story of the great heroes Erurk, Willow, Shesarai and Karrick the mighty!" "This may or may not be the full truth." Karrick grins down to the little dragon as it lets out an excited chirp. "And now it's time for bed." He scoops the little brass up in his arms and blows out the lantern, placing the little dragon in the bed he made for him then settling into a deep sleep himself.
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  The search for understanding
  • Gonnar

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  She mutters to herself, sipping afterwards from a cup of tea. A lot of books laying on the floor, bed and desk, but only one remains open, on her lap, at a certain page with a roughly drawn dragon "So this is the one that could hold all of the answewrs" She takes another sip I wondewr... I wondewr if they'll be open to meet. She ponders for a second Owr if they'll still be alive, owr in a nowrmal state and condition. She then closes the book, having memorized everything she needed to and willing to take on with the next step of her search
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  Chaos of enchantment - Longbow of Possessed Shadows
  • Scout-Hen

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  Description of the Enchanting basin created by Jonni Name: Greater Basin of Enchantment? (I'm struggling with how to name it) Description: This enchanting basin on first glance seems quite exquisite from top to its very bottom it stands a five feet, sixty-four inches, tall with a marble base. The Six foot eight inch long bowl, Eighty Inches, tapers down to a nice even base in which one can easily place large or small goods within. The entire basin seems finely crafted made of platinum from top to bottom, every edge is smooth and round giving way to no imperfections. Within the inner bowl of the basin one can clearly see the light hue of the mithril, it's entire surface appearing to be covered to give the basin and even stronger capability for magical enchantment. The base of the enchanting basin is a marvelously etched and decorated marble block making up three feet, thirty-six inches, of the basins total height. Around the block of marble are intricate carving and inlays of many gods of arcane magic, the four largest depicted each reside in the middle of one side eah: Savras, Corellon, Mystra, and insert logical one i cant name here. Etchings and Lore: Savras - For DrD Corellon: Lore: Creator of all elves, Corellon is the leader of the elven Pantheon and the elven god of Magic. Etching: Corellons' holy symbol is masterfully carved into the marble, the full crescent moon carved with a delicate hand. Inlay-ed within are small topaz gems representing the six gems within his holy symbol while a gold etching is used to accentuate the inner design of the crescent moon. Mystra: Lore: Mother of All Magic, Mystra is the tender of the weave making possible all the miracles and mysteries wrought by magic and users of magic. Etching: Mystras' holy symbol is elegantly worked into the marble, the seven shineing stars are brought to life with silver inlays making them sparkle in the dimmest light. The rising red mist shimmering lightly as the etchings appear to be coated with a light touch of ruby dust giving the holy symbol its light coloration. (( Insert DrD (Jonni's extra addings))
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  Meditations on Pain - Keira's perception
  • sciolist

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  “The world is not to be put in order. The world is order. It is for us to put ourselves in unison with this order.” Keira spins and turns, punching the pads another student holds. A foot scuffs on the monastery floor and she shifts to kick them, too. The bell rings to signal the end of the bout and she lifts the blindfold. It was good to be home. Good to feel part of something again. Her head felt clearer than it had for years. With clarity, and purpose - anything was possible. She felt free. Free to be a Scout, to serve the City how it needed her. Time changes and family changes but, as long as you can be true to yourself and find the balance of law in your heart. Freedom is just choosing whose chains to wear.
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  Journal of a vigil elf
  • destinysdesire1

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  Fifty years....fifty years I have been missing, yet I have not aged a day, I cannot remember any of the last fifty years. Only sitting on the bluff by Jiyyd, a fey approaching me and asking for a private conversation in the hidden grove, I agreed having spoken to the fey many times in the past, then recently woke up in Norwick. Where was I the last fifty years? Why do I not remember anything of them? I managed to track down the new Commander of the Guards, Hannibal, he has welcomed me back into the Norwick Militias scout division, I told him honestly I wasn't gonna challenge him for Command, he earned it and I wasn't here, so I have no right to challenge it. Then I met with Theaon of the Troff Legion, hoping to find the same warm welcome home, sadly I was not, I was given a choice to make that should never be asked of anyone. Either retire from the Norwick Militia, or be retired from the Legion. How can he even ask me to consider that, Norwick is my home, they took me in, loved me, protected me since my mothers brutal murder. I could not abandon my home, my family and my men. Even Hen thinks he is wrong. What can I do though, other then have my heart ripped apart? I couldn't even stop myself from crying when Hen appeared behind me and hugged me, I wound up just turning into her and crying, when she asked what was wrong and I told her, she couldn't even believe Theaon would do such a thing, but he did and admitted to it. So now I am working to find Elessar, and work my way through the Militia once more.
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  A Sapling Branches Out - Journal of Cia Briarfang
  • Kallethen

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  I should write more, but for a while there I just felt too burnt out to. That whole ogre army battle really weighed heavy on my mind for a while. And to follow up with more tragedy, I had traveled with some adventurers into the lizardman caves. Most of the trip went well, until we ran into this large and very powerful lizard warrior. He tore through us with such ferocity and strength that we can only count ourselves lucky to have escaped at all, though not without casualty. Within seconds half our group was killed or bleeding out on the cavern floor, including myself. It left me feeling even more out of sorts. So after talking with Cecil about the ogre battle, I followed some of his suggestion on how to deal with it. Spent many days in the woods, re-centering myself. Enjoying the little things. Enjoy life, as he says. I do feel better, I’ll admit. Better enough that when Cecil announced he planned a pilgrimage to that lost shrine of Shaundakul to find the the missing piece of the lance, I immediately offered to help. By Silvanus, what a crazy trip! We headed west from the city into the Giantspire Mountains. This of course meant we needed to fight through giants, and then ogres. And more ogres. And more ogres. Followed by bears and more ogres. Wolves too. And these little aquatic birds called penguins? I think we saw trolls as well. The were also other adventuring parties trying to get to these ruins apparently. Many of them immediately attacked. I guess they were the greedy type who wanted only to loot the shrine and saw us as competition. Jerks. Dead jerks, I might add. We did make it to the shrine, and met this old man. Said old man turns out to have been an avatar of Shaundakul himself. I have to pause on that again. While he wasn’t Silvanus, I have met a god. I met a god. Shaundakul tasked Cecil with using the lance to find and return a lost soul. We did so, though again we faced much danger. Another group who at least attempted to parlay, and then lots of powerful undead. We finally did react this place where Cecil was able to use the lance like it was a key, and it opened a gateway into… well… I guess the best way to describe it would be the place in between planes. There we found the lost soul, who was in the presence of a she-devil. The fiendish woman was trying to tempt him to follow her. We talked with him and tried to convince him to leave her, which I think he would have done on his own. A few members of our party instead got fed up with the fiend and killed her though. I respect their conviction on doing so. She probably would have fought us to get that soul anyways. But killing her drew the attention of a great devil. He was bigger than the giants, more vicious looking than that lizardman warrior, and wielded more magic than any priest or mage I know of. We did our best to fight the great devil off, but we barely hurt him. In the end, we had to flee back through the gateway and close it. Shaundakul has his lost soul back. Cecil has found out more about the lance he carries. And Shaundakul has seen fit to bestow on all of us who helped a gift of wealth and a wondrous little thing. It’s full of magic, and looks to be something I could use to enchant with, providing a means to do the enchantment without it being so taxing to myself. What to use it for? A better sword, perhaps? Or maybe a better armor? I’ve got some thinking to do.
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  Within Her, The Silver Hall
  • Syiedthebard

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  Dancing Through the Pain - Laerune
  • Crimsonchampion

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  P.9 It's been ages since I've last wrote. How things change huh? I'd been released. Out into the world, accepted by some, rejected by others. Who could blame them? I deserved a harsher punishment than I received. But.... I'm starting to feel it subside. That urge to hurt. That pain that kept giving, overflowing in an ever passionate heart. Even if it may never go away, I can hide it. Deep down, pinned beneath the growing light, like the moonlit sky. I put my doubts aside. I know my sins. My friends encouraging me, despite what I've done. To join the knights so fitting, a clear Cerulean sky, waiting for me. Let it rain, let it pour, let it hail. Let doubt be cast upon me like lightning. I'll continue to soar and meet that silvery disk. The light amidst the darkness. How amusing it must be to he who brought me my recruitment package. Telling me I must report to he who's friend I've murdered. Whom was just as likely to have passed onto the next life. Perhaps it was not for Tyr, nor Torm to judge me, for this justice is all to poetically Hoaran. Pliskin. He's remarkably accepting despite it all. I could see the occasional hardened stare but... I think things will be alright. He keeps telling me Lycka is some sort of monster, but I've yet to see any of that. She accepted my application after all.... I'll even get to work with Eowiel more often, who is apparently Pliskin's superior. I wonder, which side I'll fall in line with. The orderly militarians or the original free-spirited knights. I had my own taste, just shortly after my induction. To be present as an old friend goads a company of guards called in . Guards who gave me the evil eye and goaded me all their own for what I've done. What did I do? I stood in the way of a fresh arrival, that their ignorance not let them see the gaol. Besides, she had been so kind to defend me in earlier judgement upon my induction. But.... I left my friend to be sent away. It was his own fault, of course. I told him to keep quiet, but he refused. Was it right? That I would have to draw my blade against him were he to tear away the bars in a changed-shape. It's... a little sad. I recall when I was imprisoned, he offered to do the same. To simply pull the bars from the cell and have me free. But there was reason to it. Why laws exist. The guard seemed to think so. A brief whisper, that maybe they were wrong to judge me as I was. That I might be a rather good fit after all. Is this what I was missing all along? Yet, after speaking with the elder elf. I find myself wondering ever more. Have I found myself in the service of something doomed to self-destruction? Am I in a position any different from before? In two respects... I could work towards its removal. Should I? Is one corruption worse than another? Of two evils, is one better? I... have not yet found these answers for myself. I hope whatever happens, that it's for the better. I wonder, if you would forgive me too father? If you would be proud of me. Of what I've become. I hope you found what you were looking for in the end. Ballad of a Patriot Tell only, those we know. Tell them, to let it go. (Never Let go) Nevermind ,what the others say. Tomorow's, just another day. ( Or so they say ) Tell only, those we know. Tell them, to let it go. (Tell them it isn't so) Nevermind ,what the others say. Tomorow's, just another day. ( We will make you pay ) By the sweet words we sing evermore, Tell me, oh king, what fight we for? For the blood spilt upon this land Do we, ride on to hell, hand in hand? Tell only, those we know. Tell them, to let it go. ( Is this all just a show? ) Nevermind, what others say. Tomorrow's, just another day. ( Come on, to the foray ) By the shadows hiding in the night, hunting deep beyond our sight, For the blood spilt, we undergo the nightmarish, endless rondo Tell only those we know. Tell them to let it go. ( Where, is, our, hero? ) Nevermind what others say. Tomorrow's another day! (Oh please keep them at bay!) To the crimson skies above, or from trembling earth. Can we not face our foes, desecrating our hearth! Where are you now? Oh heroes so bold? Shine your light, in the night! Become new stories of old! Tell everyone you know. (Take heed of what we say,) Never let it go. (We will keep them at bay!) Be your own hero (Join us in the foray,) In a great big show. (We will make them pay!) So find your voice amidst the crowd Don't hide it, be loud and proud Let everyone know tomorow's your day. May all hear, what you have to say.
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  Magic Diary: Maria
  • Gonnar

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  It's been a long time, my dear diary. I'm not the best when it comes to keep up with a diary, but you know I always get back to it. Everything went "fine" with the demon threat. The land is now tainted, as expected, but the situation has vastly improved. Many people were lost that day, but I know everyone tried their best. The reason I haven't written in all this time is that I took some vacations from everything. From Narfell, from my friends, from the Spellweavers, everything. Why did I come back already? I guess partially one can blame Vick. I was missing him too much, a little bit too much. My vacations have been most enjoyable, I've been traveling to several places, meeting new people and undoubtfully having some small totally unplanned adventures. I enjoy the fact that people didn't know who I was. It made things simpler and way way more calm, except for the assassination attempts. I never speak about these, they are not worth the effort. As its to be expected, my wealth and deeds have granted me a lot of enemies. Anyway, I was in CandleKeep, to see my old friends and pay my respects to my mother's grave. Then I travelled to Athkatla, were I got in trouble a few times with the guild of thieves, or maybe the other way around... Nelanther Isles was the next stop, I should probably not got there again... they are not exactly the most civil of people... I don't think they want me back either anyway. The last part of my trip was to High Forest. It's an incredible place, there's a lot to be learned there and I met some very interesting people. Elves are undoubtfully gifted with magic, it was a very enriching experience. I learned things there, that changed my way of seeing certain things. It'll be interesting to be back in Narfell after all this...
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  This topic is deleted!
  • JerrickRafe

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