3. The personal journal of William Morrison

The personal journal of William Morrison


  • Cursed

    Some days, it just doesn't pay to be a light sleeper.

    I sat up as the earth shook again, and looked over at Raver's face, so peaceful in sleep. We'd exhausted each other, but I spent too many years sleeping out in the wild to stay asleep when something around me was wrong.

    I remember thinking "Better to let her sleep."

    How right I was, though I didn't know it.

    A feather touch, my hand brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face, and she almost woke, snuggling deeper into the bed instead. Then into the other room to dress, and out of the tree and to the Heartfires, where heroes gathered, ready to investigate the source of the repeated quakes that rocked the Camp.

    Seer began screeching suddenly, making dire predictions of death in the pass.

    Star checked out the collapsed mine - finding nothing unusual. She would have gone with us, but I think mistook where we were going, and got upset because she was being ignored. Better for her that she didn't join us.

    Taria was there, willing to go with us. I still have mixed feelings about her, though she's nice enough. Nat went to go get Shannon, and they put an end to Taria's participation when they refused to go if Taria was along.

    Perhaps we'd have been better off with Taria than Shannon and Nat. We had some harsh words about it at the time, and Nat spent an hour or so glaring at me. Unfortunately, most people pretty much ignored Seer.

    Down into the Cold caves we went. The floor was littered with rubble fallen from the walls and ceiling, but at least the quakes had stopped.

    We hadn't gotten very far in when Shannon found a box in some of the rubble and opened it. Unfortunately, it seems the box was the repository for a curse - a fairly nasty one. All of us were cursed and began to feel ill - even those some distance from Shannon - all except Wolf. We left the Cold Caves at that point, and went looking for a way to remove the curse.

    I felt like hell. Weak and sweating. Coughing all the time. Couldn't breathe well.

    Remove curse, we discovered, didn't work. Some further investigation of the box and some books Jeni had, gave us a bit more information: the curse was the Death Curse of the lich Mal'sheeron who had been hunted down and destroyed a thousand years ago.

    Jeni had two different books - one mentioned Tormites destroying the lich, the other Tormites and Tyrrans. We split up, looking for more information. Mina and I went to Spellweaver Keep, Shannon and Nat to the Tyrran Temple, and Maya to the Sisterhood. At Spellweaver, Bingo had no books on the lich (something odd in and of itself), but remembered tales of a Helmite knight having carried out the lich's bones after he was destroyed. So - we went from Spellweaver to the Helmite Temple to speak with Sigmund. Genzir caught up with us on the way, and we explained what was going on - then the three of us went to the temple.

    Sigmund had a book that mentioned Mal'sheeron - but only saying that a Sunite priestess had destroyed him by pouring all the power of her love into him. He never addressed the Helmite knight said to have taken the bones, even though we mentioned it several times. Bad as I felt from the effects of the curse, it didn't occur to me until later that this was strange. He's hiding something.

    Back to the tree to compare notes…

    ...where we discovered that the curse was contagious by touch. Good thing Mina and I hadn't touched anyone while we were out - though Genzir had a close call when he examined us.

    We also found that the other sources didn't match what we already knew - the Tyrran library said something about Mystrans having destroyed the lich, and books at the Sisterhood said it was a druid. This isn't good.

    Too many completely different stories - not just different details, but completely different stories as to what happened. There was a confusion spell operating perhaps, or the different factions were at odds when the histories were written, or... perhaps the lich was never actually destroyed.

    I wrote Raver a letter, explaining what had happened. Asked Steelfin to deliver it. For her sake, if not my own, I hope we find a cure for this. She doesn't need to lose someone again, so soon.

    The books in question were retrieved and we looked over them again, trying to find anything we'd missed.

    I wanted to go back and speak with Sigmund, pressing him for details on the bones - perhaps they are in the crypts below the Helmite Temple. I also wanted to talk to Lacey about whatever the Sunites might know.

    Instead, Shannon cast some sort of location spell, and decided we were all going to the Cold Caves. This is a bad idea. Even if we find what we're looking for, we may be unprepared to deal with it.

    More later, when we return.


  • Journeys and serendipity

    I've heard it said that life is a journey - that the destination is less important than the process of getting there. Not having ended my journey yet, I probably don't know enough to say for sure on that… but I will agree that the journey is important.

    I've also heard it said that life is what happens to you while you are making other plans. I don't know of anyone that is more true of than me.

    A few things happened pretty much all at the same time, any one of which would have been good - but all together, the effect was magical.

    Some months ago, Hirg and I found an injured woman wandering the northeast rawlins alone - the sole survivor of a caravan destroyed by goblins. Clarissa was her name, and we were able to get her back to the Sisterhood. If ever there was a woman in need, she was it. She wanted to repay us out of some of the caravan goods she'd managed to bring with her - Hirg was given some magical sling bullets and a nice sling (which I hope he is using to good effect now that he no longer thinks of them as rocks and a belt).

    I'd just as soon have not taken anything, but Clarissa wouldn't take no for an answer. She had mentioned that she was a weaver and seamstress, so I hit on the idea of her making a dress for Raver - an idea to which Clarissa readily agreed. Sylvain was going to do a painting of Raver and I to replace the drawing he'd made - and I wanted Raver to have a nice dress for it.

    I checked on Clarissa a few times to make sure she was all right, but the Sisterhood was taking care of her as I knew they would. I kept trying to get Raver there to be fitted for the dress, but there was never time.

    A few days ago, I ran into Clarissa at the Jiyyd fire again - she had completed not one dress, but three... and would not take payment for the other two.

    Rilia hosted a dinner yesterday, in honor of Hanali Celanil. I asked Raver to come, and showed her the dresses Clarissa had made. She asked me which of the dresses I wanted her to wear, and modeled them for me.

    Woof.

    She may not think so, but she looks pretty good to me in armor. In a dress... especially the one we decided on... I had to turn to hide my appreciation to keep it from embarrassing us both.

    In the interim, I had gone to Pelt to get more flowers, and fell to talking with Lacey - who showed me the most amazing flower she was going to send to Damara to sell. Of course, I had to have it for Raver. The price Lacey asked wasn't easy given the time available - but definitely worth it.

    Raver and I arrived a little early, and the dinner started late - and the other guests were all late on top of it, so Raver and I had a lot of time to just sit and talk (inside the festhall, since it was raining outside).

    She'd said yes - but getting her to set a date was much harder. I'm still not sure what she was waiting for, but I made a crack about 'making an honest woman out of her' (which she was, of course, rumors to the contrary notwithstanding)... and she told me she'd marry me that night, if a willing priest could be found and Rilia didn't mind us taking over her dinner.

    When I told her I would, she was just as stunned as I'd been earlier that day, when she'd joked about storing Flicker under the couch meaning I'd have to sleep with her...

    I made sure Raver was willing to go through with it, and plowed ahead. A quick talk with Rilia and General Lyte later, we were ready to go, with the wedding scheduled after dinner.

    Dinner was wonderful, and funny, and somehow I never got to drink my wine because it disappeared out of my glass...

    ...and the wedding was perfect. Everything came together like we had planned it - better than it would have if we had planned it, really. Serendipity.

    Lyte, as a priestess of Mielikki, came up with a beautiful ceremony, Jeni came up from the Camp to make it legal and officiate if she was needed, and brought a new dress for Raver, Jerr sang before and after the wedding, and everything went without a hitch.

    Some small part of me felt sorry for Alexi and Senria - they'd tried so hard to have a nice wedding in the same place and it went so badly.

    We owe Hanali for this one - she must have been watching over us as Lyte performed the ceremony standing in front of her likeness.

    From the well-wishers at the wedding, we went south back to the camp, escorted by our friends, and into Raver's home... our home now until we get the house built.

    ...both of us exhausted, and Raver looked as happy as I was.

    As Lyte put it, two journeys become one.


  • Bargaining with evil

    Finally had the meeting today. It went both better and worse than I expected.

    A meeting in Oscura. Not so bad, I thought. I didn't really think about what a meeting in the Temple of Shar would mean. I'd never been in there. Rumor had it, the doors to the inner temple were protected, so I'd never tried them. The outer temple was oppressive, but not any worse than the one time I'd been there before.

    The rumors were right, and I've got burns now that will take days to heal. I went back outside, waiting for the person who was supposed to have met me in the temple I could not enter.

    After a brief time, someone came out to me at the well, and we went back in.

    She opened the doors to the inner temple and motioned me in.

    I'd been in evil temples before. Not really a new experience. What was new, was I wasn't there to kill everything and destroy the altar.

    I got about five steps in before the realization hit of where I was and what I was doing. The place felt evil.

    I guess I'd never been in an evil temple before that had been in long term, uninterrupted and active use. …or maybe it was just that I was going to leave it so. I almost turned and left right then... but then the doors closed behind me - the same doors that had burned me before.

    Trapped now.

    The guard captain came out to speak. I'd seen him before. Too late to back out now, and I have a mission, in any case.

    We went to speak in an area holy to Shar. A place of complete darkness. The sense of evil was no less oppressive there, and I couldn't decide whether not being able to see made it better or worse.

    The guard captain was to be the Agent's voice. He asked my purpose there... as if he did not know.

    "I seek a death"

    The words came perhaps too easily. A life on the table, its worth to be bargained over.

    At the captain's prompting, I named the target.

    I first knew I was in trouble when he said the price would be easier for me to meet than most.

    Then he named it.

    Your first born child, given over and dedicated to Shar

    I'm sure the color drained from my face, though no one could have seen it in the darkness. …or maybe they could. My answer came without thinking. I hope to the gods it would have been the same if I'd had a chance to think first.

    "No. Name another price or we are done here."

    The Agent was apparently insulted at my refusal. The price named next was high. Higher than Shannon paid to buy off the orcs. Given the target, understandable.

    I left then, with instructions on how to make payment.

    The arrow is nocked, the bow aimed... all that remains is to see if the money can be found to make the archer let fly.

    I never dreamed it would be like that. I feel dirty now. I just hope the feeling washes off.


  • Finally paid off my debt to Seer. That was the last of it. I am finally free.

    Had a talk with Raver.

    She ran into Yolande in Norwick - and Yolande said the incident in Jiyyd wasn't her. Was Yolande lying? Probably. Still, I need to be sure.

    Tried to leave a message for Yolande at the Coppers, but they said she'd been gone for weeks.

    Left one with Drelan, though I've no idea if it will reach her.

    The one thing I know for sure is this can't be allowed to continue.

    Two other important things happened last night.

    First, I told Raver. It was an even bigger surprise to her than to me.

    Before she recovered, I asked her… and she said YES!

    Now, we have plans to make.


  • Fear, Fear again, and Three Words

    Fear of death? No. Not my own, anyway.

    I've been afraid before, though that was mostly restricted to a fear of people discovering I wasn't who they thought I was.

    Aside from magical fear, where you completely lose control to a gibbering subconscious while the conscious mind is telling you to fight, that was about it, until today.

    Today I discovered whole new reasons to fear.

    Fear is something you don't feel unless there is something that the loss of matters. The most fearless man in the world is one who has nothing, and whose own life does not matter to him. There was a time when I was nearly that man - a time when nothing that could have been taken away from me mattered enough to be afraid about.

    No longer.

    Raver fell yesterday, fighting some sort of Well-spawned horror. I wasn't with her when it happened, but I was there when they brought her body back to Jiyyd. One look at her lifeless body was all it took for my heart to stop beating, and a claw of fear to clench in my bowels.

    That claw stayed clenched the whole time until she was back and I heard her voice again, cursing the thing that had killed her. It wasn't until that moment that I knew she was all right.

    I wish I'd been there, and told her as much. She said better not, as I'd have gone after her. She's right, I would have, and died too. I don't think that would have mattered to me, so long as we were still together.

    Foolish. Surprising. I wasn't expecting to write that, but its true. Only truth here. Time for me to re-evaluate, after I finish writing, the three words I've never said to her.

    Not long after Raver was raised, we stood inside Jiyyd's west gate, waiting for the drow to counterattack. I didn't expect them to. We were ready for them. The drow aren't foolish enough to attack that kind of force unless they can overwhelm it quickly.

    Raver and I were talking quietly, joking and teasing as we do, and the gate opened. The breath caught in my throat as I watched Yolande walk in. She'd been angry before. More angry than I'd guessed at first - I heard about what happened to the hobs in the pass, after. That had to have been her handiwork. How would she react seeing Raver and I together?

    At first, it was anticlimactic. She walked down the road past us, without acknowledging our presence. I didn't dare look at her when she passed behind us, and I don't think Raver even noticed she was there. The hair on the back of my neck was standing on end - I knew she was back there, and still didn't dare turn… and then it was over. Yolande passed us again, leaving Jiyyd. I didn't really start to breathe again until the gate closed behind her. Maybe there wasn't anything to be afraid of after all, and I'd simply misjudged her.

    So I thought.

    I turned back to Raver and at my quiet words, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me - unusual for Raver in a crowd, but I'm not going to complain.... but then she asked - in Yolande's voice - if Raver kissed as well as she… and then she laughed.

    I shoved her away and told her to stop - just as Raver came back to herself and began to answer the question I'd asked. Of course, Raver knew nothing of what had just happened, and misunderstood. A few heated words later, she stomed out the gate at a pace I couldn't match.

    If I hadn't had a good stock of potions, things might have gone bad. As it was, I was able to catch her up and explain.

    Once I talked her out of going after Yolande on her own, it came down to what to do next. I have some ideas for that, the first of which involves talking with Yolande - dangerous, but necessary. I need to try to resolve this before it gets worse.

    . . .

    Three words.


  • Death, death again, another chance

    Its been a month or two since I last wrote. Much has happened, but I've been waiting for an answer from Raver before I wrote things down. I finally have my answer.

    Starting from the beginning…

    Ran into Cal taking a small group out to the Northeast Rawlins - there had been reports of a large undead.

    The reports were correct.

    The thing was undead to be sure, and huge. It reminded me a great deal of the huge undead we fought when the Little Lady was active.

    Cal and I sent the others back to get help - there was no way they were going to be able to fight the thing.

    I attacked the shaman controlling it and ran him off, while Cal tried to turn it.

    It crushed him.

    I got in and tried to fight it close up. Bad mistake. It almost killed me. I spent the next couple of hours running that thing around the Northeast Rawlins, filling it full of arrows. I don't know how many hundred arrows.

    Finally, the Shaman came back. He stunned me before I could kill him, and the colossal zombie finished the job.

    It was slow, stupid, easy to hit and damage... but trying to do any serious damage to it was like fighting a giant with a pin. You'll get there eventually, but its not something that's going to happen fast.

    I had the thing hurt badly when I went down - but I understand it was healthy when the reinforcements finally arrived.

    That means something healed it - and I don't think it was that shaman, based on the spells he was throwing.

    I was raised in Norwick, along with Cal, Jeremy, and Serenity, who also fell either to the zombie or the horde of goblins that were there along with it when they arrived. Coming back has been getting easier. I don't feel like I belong on the other side anymore, and I don't remember as much of what happened after.

    Later attempts to find where the thing was assembled or summoned have so far been unsuccessful.

    Left a message for Raver, regarding her request to have Rom Guard training on the Long Road. The message was all business, but I included a few flower petals to remind her I hadn't forgotten.

    Ran into Mord just south of the hob cave, just as a bunch of hobs came out of the cave to attack the Black Armbands on the bluff to the west of the cave. While the archers were busy with the frothers, a witchdoctor came out behind them and started tossing fireballs at the Black Armbands. Mord and I responded by putting a bunch of arrows in him, which he didn't appreciate at all. A few fireballs later, I was a little cooked, and Mord was down. I took a moment to get Mord back on his feet, and the witchdoctor ran back into the cave, proving he was smarter than the average hob.

    After checking on the Rom Guard (who had apparently used whatever healing they had to good effect), Mord and I went south to see if we could find enough people to mount a raid on the hob cave. We found Wolf and Lady Tindra. A light group, but enough, barely... or so I thought.

    Without a trapper, we bulled through the traps in the main hall, plowing through what opposition the Hobs set up, until we finished at their altar. I'd still like to know who that thing is to and what its for. It is far too elaborate for a simple place of worship.

    Lady Tindra had to leave while we were on our way in, leaving us uncomfortably few, but we had still done well up to that point.

    On our way out, we ran into a small hob army - a lot of which were the bigger ones. The fight went badly, and Wolf fell. I tried to get to him and almost died in the process. A potion of invisibility later, Mord and I were behind a stalagmite, trying to heal and drink what potions we could to make ourselves tougher. When we were done, it was time to hit the three remaining hobs with what we had before reinforcements showed up. ...at least that was the plan. The overlord, chief, and witchdoctor made short work of me, then went tearing after Mord as I fell.

    The next thing I remember was being in Cera's tree, with Rilia handing me my things. Even out of it, it didn't take long to notice my sword, armor, and shield missing. Apparently, the hobs decided they would be useful. Wolf was missing a belt he'd made as well. The loss of the armor and shield were painful, but livable - the sword, I absolutely had to recover. It was while I was considering this, that Raver, correctly assessing that I'd recovered enough, moved forward and kissed me full on the lips.

    I don't have the words to describe how I feel about that, still. I wasn't ready when I spoke with her. Would have said I wasn't still. Apparently some part of me decided that this was a good thing, for that stone in the rebuilding is now firmly set. I kissed her back.

    We went back to the hob cave, recovered my sword and armor, and Wolf's belt, and got chased out by some demons.

    Mord is still missing, and I'll put together some more folks to see if we can get him out of there.

    She kissed me. Life is pretty good.


  • Finally had a talk with Raver.

    Followed her out of Jiyyd, losing ground as always to that brisk, purposeful walk of hers.

    I kept her in sight, as she was slowed down by the occasional hob. I know she knew I was there, but she didn't slow, stop, or acknowledge my presence - even when I feathered some of the hobs at a goodly range.

    Not a particularly good sign.

    I nearly caught up with her as she arrived home. …called out to her - and she closed and locked the door. I know she had to have heard me.

    Definitely not a good sign.

    I don't know if she has a back entrance or not. One way to find out.

    I parked myself in one of the chairs in front of the fire, back to Raver's door. I knew I'd hear it open if she came out. Squeaky hinges that work well as a security method against intruders, work just as well to notify anyone waiting for you, that you intend to leave.

    I sat for a while, basking in the fire's warmth, and listening to it pop and hiss.

    Trying to think of what to say. Drawing a blank. I'm usually better prepared than this. I don't think fast, so I have to plan everything out ahead of time.

    The door opens, cutting short my jitters. I hear Raver curse under her breath. She probably saw my arm on the arm of the chair. She doesn't miss much.

    "Yes, I'm still here," I heard myself say. My voice sounded much calmer than I was. I got up and faced the doorway, faced Raver. "Raver, we need to talk."

    She agreed after a moment, and invited me in for tea. Of course, that was the end of what I knew to say. From here on, it was just a question of trying to figure out how to say what needed to be said, while trying to figure out what that was, all the while ignoring the knot in the pit of my stomach that told me I was on the brink of screwing everything up. Simple.

    I'd already screwed up one friendship over this. Lots of potential here to go two for two, and walk away alone. Nothing to be worried about. Sure.

    I gave her a brick of tea I'd picked up, and we talked.

    ...about everything but what both of us knew was hanging out there.

    Several times, the conversation could have swung that way, and she quickly changed the subject.

    How long we talked, I've no idea. I know it was late, and we were both getting tired. A few more minutes, and I would find myself outside again, having lost my best chance.

    I stood up, and gave her some flowers. She said she wasn't angry with me about Yolande. That I had the right to make my own decisions. I told her she might be angry...

    Raver has thin walls. Someone began doing business with Shady, and we heard the conversation, though not who was speaking.

    I dropped my voice to a whisper. Raver didn't need her personal business being spread all over Camp. Particularly if this didn't go well. I don't remember what I said next. None of it was planned. All of it was from the heart.

    Apparently, it was also too soft for our eavesdropper, as she moved close enough to Raver's door for Raver to hear and catch her. Looking for Attentus, she said. Invisible, standing outside Raver's door. Mmm. Raver sent her away.

    Raver asked about Yolande, and I explained I had broken things off a couple of days before.

    It wouldn't have been fair to Yolande to be used as a fallback if things didn't go well when I talked to Raver, and it wouldn't have been fair to Raver to bring this up while I was still involved with Yolande.

    I told Raver I was still kind of messed up, that I could make no promises on that basis, and that I would not ask for an answer right away. I asked her to think about it, and she said she would.

    We left it at that, and she let me out.

    Is it a good sign that she's thinking about it? Probably. Better than dismissing me out of hand, in any case. We will see what the future brings.


  • Finally decided what to do.

    Sought out Yolande and had a talk with her. She didn't take it well.

    I had thought that since it had been based on mutual need rather than on love, we would be able to amicably go our separate ways. Perhaps I was mistaken about how she saw that. She had said at the beginning that she believed I would move on eventually.

    Scratch that - I was definitely mistaken.

    She was obviously angry, but courteous, so in some respects one could say she took it very well.

    I admit I was hoping for not angry.

    I like Yolande, and I owe her, for helping me when I'm not sure anyone else could have.

    I've apparently ruined what friendship we had. Not what I would have chosen, but as good as I am at giving others advice on their own affairs, I've always had a special talent for screwing up when it comes to my own. In this case, even after the fact I'm not sure what I could have done differently.

    "At least you had the courtesy of telling me up front. I will remember that."

    I have to admit that worries me slightly. Whatever immunity I may have enjoyed probably went away with those words.

    Ah well. There's little to be done about it now. I would find a way to make it up to her if I could, but I can think of nothing that wouldn't make it worse.

    The next thing I need to do is speak with Raver. The very idea of that is scary where the talk with Yolande wasn't. With Yolande, I knew what I was going to say, and I had faith in her choosing to not harm me.

    With Raver… I have no idea what I'm going to say, and no idea how she will react. I'm not ready for this. I had planned to finish recovering before I even thought about love again, if ever - but as they say, life is what happens to you while you are making other plans.


  • Surprises, again.

    My life seems to be all about surprises lately. Unexpected things coming from unexpected people.

    Raver blowing up when I told her about Yolande was not entirely unexpected. Raver's been looking out for me for a long time, and she has always been as likely to figuratively take my head off for doing something dumb, as she has been to literally take the head off someone trying to hurt me. I figured Raver would be angry because Yolande had taken advantage of my mental and emotional state. She'd be right that Yolande had, but Yolande also gave back far more than she took. I hoped to make Raver understand that.

    I expected the yelling. What she actually said is the reason why I stood staring, long after she had stalked off, once it penetrated.

    I hadn't expected that from Raver.

    Now what do I do?


  • Rebuilding

    It has been months since I last wrote in this journal. Perhaps I was right about pain being my motivation to write. It was the ghost of remembered pain that made me sit down this time. A simple error in figuring the distribution of coin from selling loot, that had me distributing a fair amount of my own coin as well. It brought back old memories. Memories of father railing at me for being worthless as a merchant. Memories that used to hurt… used to affirm how worthless I was. Memories that no longer have any power over me.

    When I burned down to ashes... when everything else was gone... the pain went with it.

    Not right away, and not all at once - but it went.

    When you've nothing left to lose, and no longer mourn what you once had - there is no longer any pain associated with the loss. When the facade that you show to the world is gone, there is no longer fear of it being exposed. When ancient hurts that left unhealed wounds are gone - that which kept the wounds from healing is gone too.

    For a time after that, I felt nothing. No pain, no joy. If the pain of the wounds was gone, the wounds were still there. In time, I would have recovered from that on my own. Laying stones to rebuild myself, from the ruin of what I once was. Some of the stones, I choose to re-use. Others, I choose to discard. Some stones are new.

    Recovering from it on my own... I don't know what I would have become if I had. All options were open depending on what stones I used to rebuild.

    I could have taken back my pain and self-blame. Started back down the same path I had just left. As I had just proven, that is self-destructive. Still, in such a state, the choices one makes are not always the sensible ones.

    I could have taken back my pain, and instead of self-blame, topped the pain with new stones of resentment and blaming others. That would have been the first step on a dark path. ...an easy path to take, as it neatly avoids responsibility. Simplicity itself to hate... to take revenge for slights real or imagined.

    I was fortunate to have help. She was there from the beginning, knowing what I needed before I did myself. Knowing when to hold me up, and when to step back. ...and if she was very rarely a little too enthusiastic in praise seemingly intended to build confidence and encourage good behavior... perhaps that too was by design. ...a way of helping me realize that such was no longer needed. She's helped me rebuild. Never choosing the stones, nor even suggesting which should be chosen... just... there. At first, someone to fall back on, later, a comforting presence. Never more or less than I needed.

    She asks for little in return: relief from loneliness. Relief she expects to be fleeting, as she believes I will eventually move on. I do not know if her belief is correct. I do know I do not love her. I have told her this, in response to her warning, and she acted as though she did not already know, relieved, not upset. I am not capable of such right now. The wounds do not pain me, but they run deep, and it will be long before they heal and I can consider love again. When that time comes, I do not yet know what stone I will set... whether I will keep relationships shallow, follow the path of the ascetic, or try again.

    In the interim, I rebuild the remainder - a process much faster and easier with her support.

    Other things have happened these last few months... things of small import and great. It hardly seems important to write of them, but I will, just so I can have a sense (if I read this later) of what else was happening when this was written.

    Mielikki's White Stag is free.

    Five words, so simple to say. So long in coming. So nearly a failure. So nearly an end, for I would have answered the Guardian's riddle incorrectly and been eaten had Penny not tricked me into moving away so Sara could answer. ...yet after it was over, I bore a new blade, named Mielikki's Chosen. The Stag had faith in me... She did too, to free the Stag. Somehow, despite everything, that faith was not misplaced. ...and so Mielikki has a stone of Her own in the rebuilding.

    Del, Seer, and Selandra all fell, weeks apart, and each was difficult to bring back. Seer finally came back on her own somehow... changed. Selandra came back with her injury worse than ever, unable to walk. She'll be doing research at the Temple in Pelt. I am glad they're all back. Seer seems different - it remains to be seen if that is good or bad. Selandra, I feel responsible for - she was concerned about fighting trolls, and I told her it would be all right - but didn't warn her when the others decided to go to the cave, and I couldn't protect her when we ran into the troll horde. I'll take care of her as I can. Concern and empathy for friends. These stones too have their place.

    The rebuilding continues. I still don't know what the end result will look like - but I am getting closer.


  • Luck

    I've never really thought much about luck. Tymora was a goddes others prayed to, when they wanted a favorable toss of the dice, or for their hand to shake a little in an archery contest, giving them a better shot than they had a right to.

    Granted, I've never had much luck - or rather, I have, but most of it has been bad. The worse my luck got, the less confidence I had in myself, and the more I let events control me, instead of the other way around. That right there should have been a clue, if I'd thought about it. I didn't of course.

    So - my luck got worse. …and it kept getting worse.

    That should have been a sign even an idiot could read. ..but not me.

    Then, when things were about as bad as they could get... when I was paring down, giving things away, or just dropping them and walking away...

    ...I met her. She helped me first, in ways I didn't know I needed help.

    When I was able to listen, she explained that bad luck happened to those who didn't have the will to find their own path - make their own way.

    I didn't really understand then. Wasn't capable of it. She helped anyway.

    ...and my luck changed.

    I didn't realize it at the time. Even bad luck like mine doesn't go completely unbroken by some good chance. ...but ever since, things have gotten better. Much better. That continued after we met again at the goblin attack in Norwick. I asked questions this time, and she answered. No hesitation, no hiding. Just straight answers. She's definitely not what one would expect.

    I don't know what my path is yet, but I'm looking. Willing to take control.

    ..and if that, and a prayer and burning a bit of wine is what it takes for me to have "normal" luck, then so be it. All gods are jealous of their portfolios, and Lady Doom is surely no different. A simple acknowledgement of Her power... perhaps that is all She was after.

    Jario just brought me an ale. No doubt he's curious as to why I've been spending so much time here. I'm sure he already knows. He's an observant sort, and I've made no effort to hide... well, not much effort.

    He'd probably like to know what I'm writing, too. He'll have to guess on that. This isn't for his eyes. I've given only person permission to read this - and he isn't her.


  • Ashes and Surprise

    At long last, it is done. There is little left of what I was - only ashes.

    …and yet, I remain.

    I have tasks yet to complete. Tasks which I can do little with, as I am waiting on others to do their part. The ashes that remain are sufficient for that.

    ...but then what?

    I don't know the answer to that question.

    What will rise from the ashes?

    I don't know that answer either.

    What I do know is that sometimes you look at something or someone and dismiss it after, since you know what to expect to find when you look there.

    ...and that what you expect to find can blind you to what is actually there when you look again.

    When that happens, you can be surprised by something you were looking straight at all along, because you never actually saw it.

    This lesson I know from the wilds - but I never thought to apply it elsewhere until now.

    I have been surprised, from a place I was looking straight at. All that remains to be seen is how well I will deal with what happens next. I know better now than to hope for anything good to come of it, and will have to beat down any glimmers of such before they ruin me. We will see what of the ashes survive.


  • Cowardice, Failure, and Betrayal

    I'm a coward.

    It took a long time for me to admit that even to myself, but there it is. Death is an easy thing. If one dies, the aftermath becomes the problem of others. Death is an escape - the coward's way out - because it means leaving all the problems and messes that are too frightening to deal with, behind - for someone else to resolve.

    …until one is raised from the dead of course. Then all the old problems remain, and some new ones get thrown into the mix - while one is less capable of dealing with any of them.

    I had been slowly - too slowly - recovering from Nat's declaration. I had finally begun to recover, and had run into Nat again in Pelt. She offered to travel with me again - to hunt, talk, whatever.

    She was asking. Was it the beginning of a change of heart? I'll never know, now. I couldn't face being with her for that long. Knew I would fall apart. Wouldn't take the chance that I might appear weak. So turned I her down, 'because I wasn't ready yet.'

    Coward.

    Hardly a day later, she was captured by drow, fighting a rearguard action to allow Alexi and Senria to get away. ...and because I was too much of a coward to be with her, I wasn't there.

    They captured her, tortured her, sacrificed her... and when the rescue party retrieved her from the drow temple, I still wasn't there - because I had been too much of a coward to be with her, and knew nothing of it. At least when Mary was captured by the goblins, I was there to try, even if I failed that time too.

    I found out what had happened only when they came back to Jiyyd, carrying her... and by then I could do nothing. She was unaware of her surroundings. Shannon was with her, doing far more to heal her than I will ever be capable of. Sam was there to be all the strength she would need. Laucian hovered, like a pet who does not understand why its beloved master won't get up.

    Meh. That isn't really fair to Laucian. He's a good man. I guess maybe It bothers me because that's what I'd have wanted to do. No... there's more. Laucian bothers me because he looks up to me and wants to be what he thinks I am. I could hate him for that.

    I wasn't thinking clearly. That I know. I hadn't been for a long time, and this was more than I could bear. So, as if from a distance, I heard myself telling them if I wasn't back in a day, not to come looking, and went off hunting drow. Alone.

    Laucian had an idea of what I planned, and called after me, but the Protector knew he could be ignored. Of all those in Jiyyd, Laucian was one of the few that couldn't stop me.

    Into the spider caves, headed for the drow temple below. At another time, I might have been afraid in the caves - my track record of coming out of there alive has not been good - but the Protector was in charge, and unafraid. He killed a cave spider, moved silently past others and continued on... and then stopped, deep into the upper level of the caves. There was a horde of spiders ahead. Too many to sneak past.

    "Potion of invisibility," I suggested. He drank, and moved on.

    The potion wore off mid-way through the next deeper level of caves. I chivvied the Protector behind a stalagmite in a room full of spiders, and considered, while he awaited instruction. Why was I having to be involved? Ah. Stealth is not the Protector's strong point. He would have carved a path through the spiders, and died on the level above. He used stealth because I required it - because there was something more important than fighting spiders.

    –-

    I look up from my writing for a moment, the glow of the Well in the distance, a constant whisper of moving air against my face. Oscura is definitely the place to be writing now. Not for the first time, this place suits my mood. Suits me. Am I changing from the time spent here, as I have seen others change? I don't know. If I am changing, is it for better or worse? I don't know the answer to that either. Time will tell, I suppose. I wonder if I will recognize the change if it comes.

    The smells here, and the touch of the cold stone, bring me back to the spider cave as if I were there again.

    It is more dangerous here than above, and I have only one invisibility potion left. I tell myself that perhaps the drow I kill will have more, some part of me knowing as I do that it is a lie - that I will fall against the first drow I encounter.

    I have a choice at this point. Drink the other invisibility potion and go back... the sensible thing... or instead, drink the other potion and go on.

    If I go back, I will have to explain. Some would have guessed where I was going. I will be seen to not be a man of my word, and a coward.

    If I go forward, I will amost certainly die. An honorable death, if a foolish one. Some small voice dangles a hope - there is the slightest chance that I will survive to dump a pile of drow heads at a recovered Natanya's feet, she will have a change of heart with her hero, the one who avenged her, returned, and we will marry and live happily ever after. A fool's hope in a dozen different ways.

    Now, finally, I am afraid.

    No choice really. "Drink and move forward." The Protector does, and we do. Faster now - if the potion wears off before we reach the temple, we will have little chance alone against the spiders.

    We pass through a large chamber, skirting the edge to avoid the queen spider. Her feelers raise, testing the movement of the air in the chamber - and then she moves - straight toward me. I try to get away, but she is faster. A single bite, and I am paralyzed, poison burning through my veins. She continues to attack ferociously, this intruder in her domain. I have failed. Blackness.

    –-

    Red sand. Wind. Desolation. I know I have failed. This death was pointless, and selfish, and cowardly. At least I will not have to deal with the aftermath. I have escaped. No one will fight the queen spider to retrieve me, and few know where I am. I told those that might have guessed not to come after me. That should be enough. Shouldn't it?

    I stand on a cold stone floor. Music. Wooden pews. A temple then. I am alive. Again. I collapse to the floor. No nearby crowd, only two people. Only one of those moves. He shoves things at me. Familiar things. My things. I take them. He steps away, then drops other things on the floor - things forgotten in the initial load, then leaves.. I dare not raise my eyes from the floor. I can see an outline of legs through a gold robe. I know the stance. The way she holds herself. She has said nothing.

    I raise my eyes to look at her because I must. She is still weak and sweating with the effort of being up so soon from her injury, yet she has come to see this - to see me. The look on her face is cold. Disappointment. Annoyance. I speak her name once... and she does not respond. The expression does not change. She might as well be a statue of an angry goddess. It is too much. I stagger to my feet and out the door, the things on the floor forgotten, meaningless. Still naked, I head east, and out the unguarded east gate of Jiyyd. I sit on a stone there, for a long time, then finally, looking for something familiar, head to the camp. No one sees me, and I avoid those I see. I cannot speak, for if I speak to anyone, it will be to tell what happened, and I cannot.

    After that, only flashes of consciousness for a while.

    Laucian walking behind me as I clear the pass, again, shouting at me to answer him - to say something. He is the first of many to try to break through, and though the Protector pays him no mind, more of what he says gets through than anyone else.

    Gently laying my plate armor down on the leaves covering the floor of the Gypsy Camp. It is dyed in the colors of the Divine Shield, and I give up my aspirations toward that, along with the colors I am no longer fit to wear.

    Pouring liquid from a bowl into a fire. Some of the awfulness goes with it, and I don't understand why.

    Trading bows with an incredulous would-be archer at fight night.

    Giving Steelfin a copper dragon scale, in exchange for a bottle of wine I don't drink. A paring down of things, getting ready for the last time.

    Sitting and drinking with Jerr, without either of us saying a word.

    Sitting with Keira while she tries to find out what happened, knowing she is a bigger threat than most, yet the Protector will not act.

    Sitting in the rain, trying to speak of what happened, and not being able to.

    …and then…

    Clarity of purpose.

    I know, finally, what must be done.

    One last betrayal.

    I must let her go. Now. When she needs a friend the most.

    I must do it for my own sanity. I tell myself it will help her too – and it will, I am sure – but that is not why I do it. This is not for her. It is for me.


  • Healing

    Time heals all wounds. That's the old adage. That's right most of the time - but sometimes people get stuck in a moment, and can't progress beyond it. The wound stays fresh, frozen in time, and never gets a chance to heal.

    For months, I've hurt so badly that I couldn't deal with anything. Retreated into my own little timeless world where the pain fed on itself. The Protector handled everything with the outside world. Not all that well, perhaps, but it was handled.

    Being alone didn't help. I was wrong there. As long as I was alone, nothing changed in that place I was hiding - nothing could.

    Being with my friends didn't help either. Whenever one tried to get past the Protector to help, the Protector stepped in and I just retreated a little more - the wound was still too fresh, and I couldn't even think about it, much less talk about it, without falling apart. I refused to fall apart in front of anyone. My pride wouldn't let me. Funny how most of my failings seem to center around Pride. Good thing I never went through the Halls of Pride. The surprises are bad enough as things are. Discovering them there could be fatal, and not just for me.

    I'm starting to heal now. A little bit.

    I have Selandra to thank for that. She understands constant pain. That sometimes the best thing to do is work through it without fighting it. Selandra offered, like others, an ear if I wanted to talk. I couldn't. Wouldn't, rather (If I can't be honest here, what's the point?)

    I walked away, and she followed. Not to press the point - the Protector would have stopped her and I would have just pulled in tighter. Instead, she offered simple companionship. We traveled together for a few days. I watched her enjoy life, and she didn't press - and the Protector relaxed, not needed as much, knowing she wasn't a threat.

    As I watched her stride through her own life, clear-eyed and cheerful, I started to remember what it was like to be alive again myself. If the Protector goes on guard every time she introduces herself as Nat's squire, he relaxes again soon enough. She almost made me smile a couple of times, and I actually made a joke. Time has started to pass for me again. I hurt bad, but at least I'm not numb most of the time, and I've begun to heal.

    We met Maythor in Norwick, and she spoke to him about the glaive she's been wanting to have made. I bought it for her, on the spot. Its less of a gift than she gave me, and I doubt she understands why I did it - but at least it was something of a thanks.


  • Focus.

    Went on another trip north to the Giantspires. I was asked to scout - which made sense, since I had been there before and many with us had not. We met another group coming south when we got to the foothills. I went ahead, and noticed they were not following, so I turned back - and found myself in the middle of a chaotic battle with saurials. People were running everywhere, chased by saurials, and there were chaotic knots where some tried to make a stand. Alvah was cornered alone against a hill by two saurials, but went down before I could get to him. The same two attacked me while I stood over him, and I joined him quickly. Not a bad way to go.

    –-

    Red sand. Wind. Others there with me. Someone screams and runs off.

    Light. Sound. A crowd. Someone shoves clothes at me. Raver. If I could, I would smile to see her, but there is too much to sort out. Always harder coming back. I see Nat in the crowd, watching me, and it all comes crashing in. If I were not still trying to sort out being alive, it would be too much. As it is, it is enough to keep me focused on the present, but not more than I can bear. She is angry with me for having fallen. Says it happens too often to be coincidence, and suggests that I might be seeking death. Says it affects other people than myself. Some part of me wants to yell at her, tell her she is right, and that it is her fault. Even in this state I know that isn't right, isn't true... so instead I tell her I just do what I have to. Raver defends me to Nat, and so does someone else... Steelfin?

    I no longer remember. Events after a death, normally so clear later, are fuzzy this time. Too much happened too quickly and I lost things.

    I stand in the temple for a long time after everyone else leaves, composing myself. I think I am composed when I leave. I discover I am wrong when I run into Sywyn. He starts in on me dying, how I need to be more careful, think of others... I lose my temper. From Nat I will take that - but not from him. I tell him to go to hell... to go away and leave me alone. He takes it well. I walk away and stand for a moment, and discover I am standing next to Yolande. She saw the exchange with Sy. She asks if she can help. I still can't talk about it, though I am sure she knows. It is hard to even think about, but how could she not know? If I could talk about it with anyone, Yolande would be it. We know each other, but we have no history - no feelings to be hurt. She would not judge me.

    Yolande offers to make it go away. She could do it. Take some memories, alter others. It would be easy. It is tempting. So very tempting.

    ..but I need to handle this myself. I refuse, and she calls me a martyr. Tells me I may regret not taking her up on the offer. I tell her "today and every day." The unvarnished truth. She looks surprised by that. Looks like she might do something about it, on her own. I half want her to. More than half. If I say no and she does it anyway, then it isn't my fault. I didn't ask for it. ...but no.

    Leaving the city, I run into Nicahh. She too, makes herself available to talk. Normally, about almost anything else - yes. Not this. She doesn't like Nat. Never has. ...and even though Nicahh never returned my feelings for her, it would hurt her to know how badly I fell for Nat, moreso than I did for her. She is finally happy, and I won't mar that, even a little. I'll probably talk with her about it eventually - but not before I can handle it without breaking down.

    I have to get better control of myself. Have to focus. Too many people are noticing something is wrong. Steelfin has been following me around trying to make sure I don't hurt myself, but not quite offering to take away anything sharp, and I've had other offers to listen if I want to talk about it.

    Some of those offers are from people I can talk to. ...but not about this. Not yet. Not while I am barely holding myself together just thinking about it.

    I owe Sy an apology. I'm not ready for that either.


  • Pain, Renewed.

    So here I sit again in the garden - stealing occasional glances at the statue. Nicahh said that she thought it was Lady Deliera that had the statue put there. Makes sense - I have heard of her before. I am thinking now that the statue is just a construct, and nothing to be concerned about - though it is eerie and startling to be sure. Must remember to let the druids know about it.

    –-

    Bah. I need to find a different place to write. This is too near the gate. Everyone passes by here, and people have started to notice. 'Will sitting alone in Oscura' is not a normal sight. I stick out like a sore thumb - even more than the paladins.

    The western city. Back to a stalagmite, the glow of the Well in the distance. If someone finds me here, it won't be an accident.

    So. Enough avoiding the memory.

    I ran into Nat in the pass. I went from being numb to having the pain be fresh again, as though we were still standing in the temple in Pelt, the place where my heart used to be raw and bleeding as if it had been torn out only moments ago.

    An awkward few moments, then she speaks, friendly - as if nothing had happened between us. I can't deal with it. As if from a distance, I hear my voice responding, calmly, telling the truth when she asks how I am, but only the tiniest bit of truth - enough to let her know it is the truth, yet not so much that she can see how bad it really is. I can marvel now, at how good that part of me is at doing what needs to be done, when the rest of me is unable to function. At the time, I could not think at all. My Protector. It keeps me going when left to myself, I would be curled up in a ball.

    Nat says she does not want me to be uncomfortable. Uncomfortable? I hurt too badly to even consider the word. Again, I hear myself responding reasonably, kindly, that there is no help for it, while the pain threatens to overwhelm even my detatchment. I want to spare her if I can.

    Something shows on my face, or in my voice, and she moves forward and hugs me. It is too much. At her touch, my detatchment shatters, and I hug her back hard, without thinking, just needing the contact. In doing so, I reveal more than I should and I know it, but I don't care. For that one moment, nothing else matters.

    My Protector recovers quickly, and I let go before she can react, before things can get worse. I shove on my helm to hide what not even my Protector can keep off my face.

    A few hobs provide a welcome distraction, and the caster that blinds me before it dies, gives me an excuse to remove my helm and wipe my eyes. Nat offers to listen if I need to talk. I tell her no. She won't deal well with what I need to say, and there's no point in making things worse for her. The helm goes back on quickly at that point. I can't keep my feelings off my face, and if she touches me again...

    We spend several long, awkward minutes looking at each other, saying nothing. I haven't the strength to be the first one to leave. Not again. She finally heads south, and I go north.

    In the temple in Pelt, when I gave her the ring, I told her I would remain her friend. I wanted to be. I still do. I just can't. Not while I can't even look at her without risk of falling apart.


  • Duty

    So much for my roots. So much for survival. Ran into an orc mage on the plains. Wasn't paying attention, and he saw me first. One spell is all it took, and then I was being crushed to death.

    Featherflights found my body, still barely alive. Either the mage thought he'd finished me, or they killed him. I didn't ask.

    They brought me to their lands. Healed me. Returned my gear. The shaman who healed me was sick. He healed me, when he could not heal himself.

    Another debt. One I must repay. The shaman asked if I was a tracker. …mentioned Jerr's missing boys, other missing members of the tribe. I told him I had searched for them already, but that the trail was cold. Told him Jerr had not asked.

    An interruption. Sabre was right. The statue's eyes do glow green, on occasion. It seems to be what is keeping the plants alive. No idea who the statue represents. I wonder if Sabre bothered to find out who made it, or had it put there? The statue goes quiet again.

    Where was I? Ah. The shaman. I told him I would do what I could to help. I pay my debts. He asked me to send Jerr to him, said he would send for me, after speaking with Jerr.


  • Pain

    I guess that's what motivates me to write. It has to be the right amount of pain though. Too little, and I have no reason. Too much, and I cannot find the words - cannot find the place to write that will contain them.

    The short of it? Nat told me she planned to swear an oath… that she would not be with any but the one she would marry, and would not do that much until she was ready to retire - many years from now.

    It was a goodbye. ...as gentle as she could make it, but a goodbye nonetheless. How gently can one's heart be torn out?

    I asked her not to swear such an oath. I don't know if she will, or not. ...gave her the ring I had saved. ...told her to give it back if she had a change of heart. I know that was a forlorn hope, and stupid. Sticking my foot in a door she was trying to close.

    Couldn't help it.

    I told her I needed to be alone for a while, then left for the camp.

    Of course, things never work out how we plan.

    Eluriel asked if I wanted to go north, to the icelace. Having been there before, this seemed like a good thing at the time. A chance for it to be over, finally.

    Someone asked what creatures we would find there, and I told them. They didn't believe me - no one did. I didn't take offense. Didn't care enough to. Pride is gone. Everything that matters is gone.

    So we went. I fought sword and shield. Nothing would touch me. Nothing.

    We went further, through the ogres, through demons I had never seen before, through giants and trolls - and nothing would touch me. A few nicks and scrapes. One close call with lightning from a troll chieftain, but Rary was quick enough to fix that.

    ...and home again. Through a cloud of hobs, and still I live.

    ...and then there were other trips - the worg caves, the troll swamp... and still nothing would touch me.

    ...and still I couldn't write.

    So - I went to the one place that matched my pain. Oscura. ...and finally I could write. Had to hide from Dirge. She'd want to paint me, and that I could not stand.

    I never minded being second to Tyr. I minded being third to Shannon, but I could deal with that. Being nothing... That I can not deal with.

    Keira says that pain focuses - that it makes clear what matters. Nicahh agrees. I am not sure - unless it is true for me that nothing matters anymore.

    I'll still get the helm finished for Nat. I've started that, I will finish it, though I don't know how I'll get her to take it.

    I've still got other tasks I must complete. ...but I've no enthusiasm for them. Don't know if I can make myself.

    Perhaps it is time to return to my roots. Start over. Back on the orc plains. Simple survival.


  • Communications

    What happens when one speaks the truth at the wrong time?

    Bad things.

    I've managed to put my foot in it with Nat again. I know I'm right, but I was right at the wrong time, in the wrong place. I should have let well enough alone, and just ignored him…

    I returned to Jiyyd, to find Nicahh, Nat and Shannon there. Nicahh standing off by herself, Nat and Shannon by the fire, with Keira and others.

    I greet Nicahh, and we talk briefly, and she makes some pointed comments, in the form of jokes. I know who those comments are aimed at, though they surely cannot hear her, and call her on it. She makes a joke of that too and we both laugh it off - but she got my message, and I got hers. Communication is a good thing.

    Keira is telling Nat and Shannon that some of the things from the Well are escaping into the pass. I can hear only Keira's side of the conversation, but it sounds as though Shannon isn't listening because of who the news is coming from. Typical.

    I suggest to Nicahh that we get involved in the conversation. As Inquisitor of Oscura, this concerns her too, and I have my own piece to add, regarding the Well-spawn I'd fought in the pass myself.

    We move closer, and I relay the details of Selandra and I fighting that spider-horror in the pass. It is new information to Nat and Shannon, I can tell. Nat has some comments about the combat.

    Selandra shows up at that moment, and we mention that we've been speaking of her. I tell her she has nothing to worry about - I only told the truth of our encounter... an unfortunate quirk of mine. She responds that truth is never unfortunate. ...a statement that I disprove before the night is done.

    While she and Nat are catching up, Nicahh catches me completely off guard by asking in a whisper if Nat and I are still dating. Stunned, it is some time before I can answer, and when I do, I don't much like the answer I give: "I don't know."

    I barely see Nat anymore. I have been trapped in Jiyyd, and she is working in Oscura (something I found myself defending to Selandra, when we went there looking for Nat). When she is not there, we still have no time together... as tonight - with her sitting next to Shannon, looking tired, and yet a little happy. I can't talk with her with everyone there, and I would not tear her away when she gets so little down time. ...time she is choosing to spend with Shannon. Am I jealous of him? Yes, perhaps a little. He has Nat's attentions, which I crave and he spurns.

    It is enough to make one want to curse the gods, sometimes.

    Nicahh goes on to whisper that she doesn't care for the way Nat speaks of and to me - that it is insulting. I hadn't thought it so, but then perhaps I am simply used to it, or expect it.

    Nicahh leaves, and I sit on the now-empty bench, closer to Nat, yet still on the other side of the Giantspires for all that matters.

    ...then Marius arrives.

    I nod to him - the barest minimum that courtesy demands. Nat likes him, and I owe her at least the attempt to be courteous.

    Some time passes before he remarks at the silence around the fire - that we must be intimidated by him.

    ...which is when it begins. I speak the truth. At the wrong time. In the wrong place. In the wrong company. I tell him, that I am not intimidated - it is simply that I don't like him. He asks if I judge so quickly, and I answer that I do when I have reason. He asks the reasons, and I respond by asking if he really wants me to air them in front of everyone. He does.

    So I do. In detail. His betrayal of his former master - but not until his master began keeping the loot his soldiers earned. The plot against Lucid.

    Nat is obviously uncomfortable, but I keep plowing on. She tries to stop it - and cannot. So she leaves instead. I try to follow, to apologize - but she is gone.

    I go to Pelt and leave her a note at the Tyrran temple, apologizing, then take a few moments to pray at the altar - for better judgment, for help in not letting my personal feelings get in the way. Did He hear? I don't know.

    Back to Jiyyd, then.

    Truth - Indeed, an unfortunate quirk.


  • The mission.

    Sir Mariston put out a call requiring "those of goodly heart and honour for a task of utmost importance."

    The goodly heart I can lay claim to, I think. Even on a bad day, I go through the motions, so the difference is small enough that most could not tell.

    My honor… hangs by a tattered thread, but remains intact for the moment.

    I respond, and a message comes to meet at the Tyrran temple in Pelt, several days hence.

    At the appointed time, I arrive. Nat arrives at the meeting not long after I do, having slept in her rooms at the temple. Even half-asleep, the sight of her is like food to a starving man. I can hardly take my eyes off her, but I don't speak to her - what can I say?

    The ghost of Sir Vance - a knight of the Order of the Green Cross - tells us of a tomb that was desecrated when the head of the order betrayed the knights and massacred them and their families, long ago.

    We travel to the location of the tomb. I still can't keep my eyes off Nat - still have no idea what to say. She notices, and jokes about it - and now I am more lost than before.

    A sudden sleep overcomes us all, and we wake to find ourselves in another time - a time when the tomb was new. Before the betrayal? No - but during, yes. We fight our way through the demons to find a living Sir Vance, and convince him to let us aid him. Down to four defenders including himself, we were an unexpected gift.

    We rest, and again I try to talk to Nat - and can say nothing. She notices me staring again and responds with a light-hearted comment, and again I am confounded, and can do nothing but turn and walk away. I rest sitting against a wall, and the Paladin Elenwyd mistakes my silence for concern about the upcoming battles.

    That is actually among the least of my concerns. Short of things going horribly wrong, the worst that will happen to me is death - and I know death well. I am comfortable with it. Even if it were the final death, that would be a form of release - or at least it would be if I did not still have unfinished tasks that I cannot let go of. A little like Sir Vance, I suppose.

    More demons, and a cleansing of desecrated parts of the tomb. Then more demons still. Blinded and stunned, I go down in the middle of a battle against something I cannot see, but am healed by someone - I know not who. Nat is yelling at me to move, and when I can, I do.

    We continue, and when we finish, we can tell the job is still not done - for we can hear the roars in the distance, of a demon larger than any we have yet fought.

    We are tired, and much of our protections have waned, but I still have some potions that will be good to protect someone on the front lines. I am trying to press them on Nat, as the doors to the room fall in ruin, revealing the shape of a Balor. Moments before we would have fought our final battle against it, we again are overcome by sleep - and when we wake, find ourselves returned to the present day.

    Sir Vance tells us we did not fail - that our actions in closing the portals to the Abyss allowed the remainder of the tomb to be cleansed later.

    We are given some things from the tomb, that they be used rather than moulder. A cloak of the Green Cross, I keep, some potions, and a bit of coin - a magical rod that is somehow part of my share, I give to Nat - a tool for fighting evil that she is more likely to need than I.

    She acts as though the incident in Jiyyd never happened, and I don't understand that, but I'll take it, and gladly. I am slow to recover even once I realize this - some wounds take longer to heal.