3. The Journal of Jerrick Rayfe

The Journal of Jerrick Rayfe


  • _Well good morning. And by good morning I mean… what else do you call it when you find two beautiful blonde women in your bed when you get home? More than that... what do you DO?

    Considering that when they heard me there were quiet giggles, I could tell that this was a cutesy little joke, so I pulled one of my own. I shapeshifted into a smaller wolf (So I don't mess up my mattress, poor thing) and squeezed myself between then, demanding petting and attention. Serves them right! Grr.

    A lot has happened since I last wrote, and I've hardly trusted myself to write it all down... hells, I don't even know why. I just got this sense of forboding whenever I looked at my journal. I guess I can be a bit of a fatalist, but when Aspen Blue's shade came by, and said something involving the end of my life nearing... I kinda figured this would be it. I mean... we went into the Lost City.

    Let me backtrack. I went to the circle, and suggested that we use the ritual of the circlestone and Irmunsil again to turn the woods agaisnt our attackers. Unfortuantely... it wouldn't have worked too well, except maybe against us. The other elders, however, were apparently aware that the focus was capable of more than that.

    I think it went something like...
    @933d2af846=Lagermane:

    Elder Bonegnasher: "Sound good! Let's do it! Tell all the beasts to tear everything limb from limb!"

    Ronan Addams: "You do realize that this is likely to result in our own forces being attacked by enraged animals as they move through the woods? For that matter, if the Dracolich or the Hungry One or whoever's in change of the Lost City these days realizes what we've done, they might try and simply 'lock the gates' and keep us out, letting the Rawlins do its dirty work for it."

    Elder Aklo: "Kill a lot of the tribes, too. I think we should do a ritual to set the Lost City on fire."

    Elder Shapeshifter: "Yes, Aklo, we know."

    Elder Thunderstepper: "Well, hold on, that's not entirely a bad idea. What if instead of turning the animals and the woods against the Lost City, we turned the elements against them?"

    Elder Lonetree: (sharply) "That's incredibly dangerous! The Circle in the Korathi Forest tried something like that, if you will recall."

    Elder Ronan Addams: "I've never heard of the Korathi Forest."

    Elder Lonetree: "Yes. Exactly."

    Elder Thunderstepper: "Think of the advantages, though. High winds could keep a lot of those fliers off of us. Bolts of lightning could strike the city and soften them up. Not to mention the sheer noise and violence would help hide our approach and movements."

    Elder Rainhammer: "It does sound… promising.... if risky. But less risky than enraging the living part of the wood."

    _When Elder Lonetree made their point, "Yes. Exactly" I admit that I shivered down to my bones, but this is something that we couldn't pass up. The pre-battle preparations were very much a part of this plan, and Horlamin, Adriell, Belia, and myself made sacrificial piles to the Gods of nature to show our dedication and ask for their blessings and aid.

    Most of the Gods were represented in a pile, and when we lit some of them, the rest of them lit themselves, showing that the Gods were indeed watching and accepting our offerings. It's a good thing too… because while we did so, the other Elders were beginning a ritual that... well, could have wiped up off the map.

    Instead... a huge storm began brewing over the Lost City, and periodically tremendous bolts of fire and lightning would rain down upon it. I suspect that we would have had a much harder time, had this not been the case.

    After fighting off the Ghost Wolves on the way there, and various undead opponents, a Yuan-Ti appeared to speak, and was struck down in a blink. Some folks yelled that others should have held, others were unrepentant.

    That's to be expected, as the Yuan-Ti have earned themselves quite a bit of animosity over the years by mind controlling people, and worse. The issue here, however, was more than that. I promised Rith that I would hold her honor intact, and ensure that our group did not knowingly join forces with a force of evil, so to speak.. and hells, just listening to the group behind me dissolve into shouts and disagreements was showing that the Yuan-Ti wouldn't survive an alliance with us, or the other way around, without some kind of miracle.

    Frankly, I was more interested i the type of Miracle we might get only if we did not accept aid from the Yuan-Ti. I took Horlamin at my side, and we moved ahead of the group, and I shouted to the woods for the Yuan-Ti to treat with me. I was greeted by what could have only been an assassin from it's garb and weapons, and stealthy entrance, and told that the Yuan-Ti do not suffer to be killed... and it sounded like a threat, but I made no moves to even defend myself unless I was to get attacked right then, and did my best to calmly explain that an alliance was not going to work.

    I told them that completely regardless of my own words, there was going to be no way the two groups could work together, and warned them to stay well out of sight of the party, or even I could not stop a complete battle. The first Yuan-Ti agreed reluctantly, when one I know personally appeared. Her name is Wild-Earth, a Druid. I am glad we Druids have a bit of a kinship regardless of race, as it was nice to know for certain that I would at least have time to speak.

    We were warned, of a Drow force, and worse, in the gardens behind us, waiting to attack. It was simply that, and nothing more that was said, however, when I went back and warned the group, the general response (Or the only one I heard because Grag is so loud) was "Fark the Drow!" and we moved on without watching our backs.

    Damned silly, that... and Rain and I stood shoulder to shoulder across the bridges, mostly walking backwards the entire trip there, to ensure that we were not surprised without at LEAST a shield wall that could last a couple of seconds to buy the others time to pass up the message.

    Rith stayed close. Thank the Gods, as I ended up needing her there a bit more than intended. The back was not a quiet place, with Undead harpies and worse showing up to hamper and harm throughout the trip, including a huge Undead Wyvern that got a good strike in against me. I was glad to finish that fight.. I don't like fighting huge critters next to ledges that I could easily be pushed off by such strong beasts.

    The rest of the battles were very nearly a blur. Demons, portals, summoning circles, Old Nars magical equipment, all of it was there, and some of it had unexpected results with it's use or discovery. It was there that we had some casualties... but people were gathered, I am certain some were raised when we hit the top of the tower, and we moved on.

    It was... rough. We encountered more of the Dracoliches minions, but could not necessarily discern where the phylactery piece was imbedded into it... as my vision years ago told me. Talos pointed it out, so I knew that relying on Him was my best bet... he's a proud, honorable God, and I was glad to have been honored with speaking to him. I promised him that I would do my best to channel his lightning upon that tower myself... so I began thinking of a plan so long as the ritual lasted til after we were ready to leave. My praying resumed about there...

    I think I became a lot more concerned with the Afterlife when I saw the dracolich for the first time. It was a gigantic bone monstrosity, and even powerful spells seemed to barely bother it... until they started coming in fron every direction around it. I think... that it may have been expecting a smaller force. It likely was not expecting so many itsy bitsy little flies such as ourselves to swarm it so... or to hit like demigods with spell and sword, using powerfully enchanted weaponry and artifacts.

    It crumbled after a few tense minutes, while I ran up to the frontliners to heal whoever backed off a bit. We all survived it... not only that, but we all survived it with so little loss to our personal spells and reserves, that there was a clamor to go to the cold place higher on another part of the towers, another spire, and finish the Hungry One for good.

    I mean... all we had to do was step into his own pocket plane and kill him ourselves, right? It would have been that easy, if his Avatar were not already waiting for us at the top. Heh.

    I remember constant Hezrou popping up from another demon portal, while a gigantic furious bear of immense power that radiated a bone chilling cold that made the air around it freeze into deadly icicles attacked, and then I remember running. Something struck a horrible fear into me while I was healing frontliners, but it soon passed, and I ran forward once more, nearly exhausted of spells... and turned my blade upon the bear.

    The Gods were watching, likely Tempus more eagerly than most, and perhaps Auril. No, definitely Auril. She's had good reason to be angry with Wendigo coming back under the influence of a demon lord of undeath to enroach on her domain, and if that cold wind didn't sound like laughter off that tower when we struck his avatar down... then I'm a badger biscuit.

    His portal. It was rimmed in ice, blowing a soul-shearing wind from itself, and waiting for us to jump in. It was hardly a chance we could give up... so the group decided that we would take a crack in it. That horrible elf Raryldor was there, with Aramuil... and they had the spear that could slay him. I may dislike the hell out of those two, but thay had the weapon that was needed, so we would keep them alive. Simple as that... but I had another task ahead of me.

    I stood upon the tower, the other Druids simply moving beside me, and raised my Stoneblade and Druid staff high above my head, praying that the Elemental Fury that was swirling above our heads would focus upon the place that I stood, and once our prescense had left the lost city, or the plane for long enough, that it would unleash itself here, spend itself completely, and destroy this tower. This spire seemed as good a place as any for a Phylactery to be built in... right? I don't know about any undead Dragons or Bear avatars, but if I had two of those guarding a tower, I'd sure put something of value there.

    Needless to say... we jumped into the portal with the rest of them as soon as people went through, and were immediately met by the spirits of the Hungry One's previous followers, dead elves who attacked us on sight, and were thankfully repelled by Rith or whoever else put the fear of life into the undead. Meanwhile, the others assaulted Wendigo, with Rary piercing the body with the spear...

    I feel bad for Wendigo, and I went over to doublecheck that he was indeed finally put to rest, not as an insult to Raryldor or Aramuil, but just to ensure for the circle that I had indeed seen it with my own eyes, and closed the eyes of the Godling myself. His heart was pierced clean through, and he was surely on his way to wherever dead corrputed God-figures go. Unfortunately for him... I am afraid his place won't be too nice, with his involvement with a demon lord of undeath and all...

    The battle was pitched leading up to his demise, and the sky rained ice constantly. It was all I could do to concentrate on healing folks, and passing my hammer off to Kence had been a smart move, too. It had a little bit of Wendigo and his forces on it... but most stuff cleans off. I think...

    We all survived, though some of us by barely a hair, and we leaped back throught the portal, and took off immediately. I stopped, once I figured it was a safe distance, and watched the skies above the Lost City... hoping, praying, and wishing... when it happened.

    It was a deafening roar that pierced the air, putting dragons and the warhorns of armies alike to shame. The storm had focused... paused it's assault JUST long enough to reorient on where I had stood, and a childish but strange voice rang through the air, saying something to the lines of, "Do you like fire? I like fire..."

    Then the top of the east spire of the tower simply exploded. It erupted in a gout of flame and lightning, ice and whatever else the skies could find to dump at once, exhausting the ritual... but apparently blowing the HELL out of the tower where the Demigod and his Pet, and all of their toys resided. Gods, I hope that Phylactery was finished off... and praise be to Talos for that power of storms. It was a storm to be remembered...

    Mielikki guarded and guided me throughout that battle, and I feel that I paid her back for keeping me alive so many times previous to this, as I was able to tend wounds, cure diseases before they set in, and stabilize the dying many times throughout the fight. I feel that I served as I was expected, and my soul is at peace.

    I finally need rest, and I REALLY need to see Tindra. She won't believe I'm truly okay til she sees me, I think, and I don't want to worry her more. It's time to go home.__


  • _What the hell do I do with myself now?

    I spent hours… no, half a fucking day, trying to moderate between various people who argued like crazy over matters both serious and petty, as if they were all world-ending issues. It's driving me absolutely foaming raving rabid.

    There's a racist elf, a smirking negative energy happy ... Sogar, whatever he is, angry Druids, the ever judgemental Ronan (Who has NO place to judge right now, though I don't think he knows it) and Soliel, mostly.

    I'm a bad person because I don't 'trust' her enough to let her in on the big 'secrets' I pull people away to talk to. Yeah, I'm sorry woman, that I don't want you traipsing about inside my lovers mind because I hardly know you, and what little I do know is that you're highly emotional, quickly judgemental based on appearances, and are in no way involved in the situation!

    Yeah, I chewed her out pretty badly, and am still frustrated as hell about it. I try to be nice, and kind, and care for people... but it seems that all I end up doing is setting myself up some expectations that I can fail later, and get involved in more of this dramatic ridiculousness. Speaking of dramatic ridiculousness...

    I'm going to have to get Dwin to meet me someplace, with Horlamin, and sit them both the hell down, introduce them both properly to each other, and have a properly pleasant conversation. Rith and Vash fixed their misunderstandings where I tried to mediate between the two and simply became obsolete while they fixed it on their own.

    Perhaps I'll have Vash and Adriell and Horlamin all sit with Dwin, maybe toss Wren in the pot too. We'll all sit down, nobody leaves until we have a pleasant conversation, meet one another, and figure out what the HELL is up everyone's ass.

    I can't babysit. Not when I have to try to figure out who is fighting the Dracolich, how to help Lorelai and Tindra, watch out for these Malarites to respond to my denial of their treaty, patrol the woods for those Mad-God cultists that captured me, defend the gate when I can against all manner of terrors, avoid being taken ALIVE by the dracoliches forces, or the forces of the Hungry One, as it may be, watch out for the racist elves who attacked someone a while back, hope that we actually got rid of our shade and shadow problem, try to earn enough money to pay Val back her five thousand and still be able to buy potions and spell components, show Rith as much of Narfell as I can while I still can so that she can better do her duties, try to calm her down so she's not stressing herself out over Lorelindra too, be more active with the circle so that vash doesn't think I am neglecting my duties and heap more criticism on me, try to actually interact with the circle despite Marty not being officially kicked out even though she's a traitorous schemer, get my paperwork done for the Wolves items I have to finish the order for, fix the ranking, test more people, check out Clayton and Celad personally to get them initiated if the pack still agrees, find a way to apologize to Myrrha for being an asshole and a bully, find out if Aelthas is alright, re-organize my pack from dumping everything when I tripped after defeating the shadows, sharpen my swords, clean the stoneblade, oil my leathers, ward my HOUSE somehow so I can't be captured right out of it, and while I'm at it, make some breakfast for Tindra who is sleeping beside me, and Rith who is sleeping downstairs.

    Sleep?

    Who has time for that? I'll have to make a proper checklist, reading back upon my last lines. Guess I'll add that to my list.

    -Make a list_


  • _Chewing someone out for walking off, then walking off later myself isn't exactly the best fix to a situation, but it's better than finally snapping the tight leash on my patience and acting even worse. This is what I needed. Time to relax, write, be alone for a moment and sort my thoughts.

    We fought off waves of Fire elementals, nearly all choked to death on smoke, but managed to call rain together to quench the fire, us Druids in the group. Sheesh, I can hardly write straight.

    Apparently there was a dire bear that ran terrified out of the woods, and the gate defenders attacked and killed it, despite Adriell calming it, and she's furious. Granted, I would be too, but I know pack mentality better than most. People fire when someone else does, and it's hard to hear over battlecries, the twang of strings, and the scream of a scary animal to hear someone shout to stop shooting, they have it handled. Hells, some folks don't know what a Druid can do!

    I There is a jagged scratched line where he was startled

    Danika is here with pastries. Looks like I get to talk. I'll continue this later._


  • _Reminders to self:

    -Give Tindra new ink. I think she'll still using Tojan-brand.
    -Talk to Yana. She was kind enough to come check on me, I wanted to thank her.
    -Check on Soliel. She seems to need to talk, but things keep getting in the way.
    -Update rank roster. Dash passed.
    -Get items in. Pass them out.
    -Update more ranks.
    -Spend more time with Tindra.
    –-----------------------------------------------------------------------
    Last night, I got past my fear. This situation has been unfair to me AND Tindra. Especially her. I shouldn't keep myself from showing her what she means to me in any way, and she clearly felt the same.

    It's more than the act. It's more than the time spent. It's the sum of all those things that got past the questions.

    What if she wakes up as Tindra afterwards? During? What about when Tindra finds out? How will she feel? Gods I feel awkward just writing this, but Lorelai and I are happy with each other, and will get past all of this, somehow.

    As least I have help for one of the hard parts, now. Battling the nightmare. Bah, this entry started business, went pleasure, and now back to business. Poor Lorelai, I hope I'm not this bad in person._


  • _Made new ink. I win.

    And by win, of course I mean "I can now read my own writing." The bards can keep the colorful writing for their flyers in Peltarch. I think I'll stick with colorful 'language'. Boy am I glad Rith isn't offendable.

    We had a long talk about a lot of things, after our 'trip'. Hells, that's a good place to start, I think.

    We were talking after horsing about with my Wildshapes, and me almost scaring her off a cliff… heh, I still laugh about that, I'm glad I caught her.. but we got to talking about me returning to my self-appointed task as 'tour-guide.' Figuring that she's missed a hell of a lot, I took her to the place that most reminds me of hell. I brought her to Jiyyd.

    Hell to me isn't an unrecognizable place of fire and pain and suffering. It's the desolation of things you love, the abscense of love and laughter where it was abundant before, and you have to see it, watch it, walk through it kicking up dust and ash instead of disturbing grasshoppers and butterflies. It would be heart-breaking if I was still at that stage in my life where many things could be.

    First, we saw Heroes bluff. I showed it to her a week ago, and described my memories of the place, made mention of Kaetlyn, but did not mention how anytime I feel a breeze up here it reminds me of her. I am such a bastard. That first time, we talked a bit, then I excused myself to the cliff's edge, and went to sleep. I do not know how long Rith stayed, but Fayt watched over me. Good boy, Fayt.

    At Heroes Bluff, we prepared. The beacon of divine power that was being called down on us must have gotten something's attention, or should have, but more on that later. We prepared as best we could to take on an army of demons, because let's face it, you don't go to Jiyyd and not be prepared for the worst. I think the most important spells I brought was an extended casting of Freedom of Movement and Spell Resistance, but more on that in a moment.

    We entered, and I paused Rith, checking fresh tracks, straining my eyes, closing them and using my ears, and finally scenting the wind. It's a drawn out process, but I've learned to extend my senses incredibly accurately, at least directionally. It also helps that I know the look, scent, and tracks of many types of demon. Thank the Gods for practice?

    "About half dozen quasits" I told her, and had time to hear her relieved breath and the beginning of a confident sentence, when I interrupted her. I had to continue, with, "a few fiendish warriors, at least a couple of flying horrors, and possibly a greater creature as well."

    Sadly, she quieted considerably, and settled for a grim nod. Thankfully, our Spell Resistances ate the magic missles, our armors and shields and weapons batted aside attacks, and we made quick work of all the foes. From there, I detected no more than maybe a trace giggle of a quasit in the distance... couldn't find anything else alive nearby, but something led me to the North side of town. I just... walked. Lo and behold, a summoning circle. It felt wretched as soon as it was visible, and I could feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up, so I asked Rith to hold and summoned Mielikki's firey wrath from the sky... and landed it upon a very surprised, and swiftly angry Hezrou.

    Oops.

    Rith glanced at me, we nodded, and she charged the creature. I stood back a moment to plan to circle behind it, and was most immediately blinded when the beast said something along the lines of " GHTOIHFIZDSFUBNZFDIUZVSG! " , but I heard a familiar noise. Laughter. Tempting, mocking laughter. Great, a succubus. My favorite… damn sarcasm not showing up with ink.

    Even blinded, I could hear, and hear well. The helm I accquired helps directionally, at least. I found the succubus, and started flailing inaccurately, but I could tell she was surprised by me closing in. I couldn't figure out why exactly, until I felt a slap on my ankle that retreated as if burned. Oh yes, Freedom of Movement how I love thee. I must have laughed when the blindness lifted, because the succubus tried to make a break for it.

    She got a sword in the back for her troubles, about the time I was blinded again. The bitch was still standing, and started whipping me. Or, trying. At least it helped me orient myself. Rith shouted, but it was a battle cry, to I trusted her to continue to do her thing. I had to trust her words, that she was trained specifically for this, that she could hold her own, and moreover, MY own if I faltered. I wouldn't though. I can't.

    I cut the bitch down the moment my eyesight returned again, and was promptly blinded again as my reward. I swore enough to make Bonegnasher blush, and started to circle around the sound of battle, which changed abruptly. I mean... it went from scream, thump, claws raking on a shield, more thumping, infernal swearing and the like... to the sound of a thousand swords piercing the earth, and stone, and demony flesh.

    "Alright, I'll circle THAT, too." Good thing I have good ears. Points must help. I circled around the blade barrier that had the demon shrieking angrily, and swung at his backside, keeping him from fleeing it. As long as he THOUGHT I could see him, I was officially a threat. He only aimed a swing or two at me, but I kept my shield high since it towered over me, and tricked it into thinking I was a match for it too.

    Rith decided the time for games was through apparently, and uttered a word that sounded like... Light? Hell, I don't know how to describe it, but it scared the HELL out of the beastie. It was scared of us, too, and foolishly scrambled to run. Right into the blade barrier.

    We won. That fight, anyway, and the rest is only worth summarizing with how much my wrist is cramping, and the life of a second quill to wear out. I need to go fight another manticore, these feathers aren't doing the trick.

    We found an abandoned tower and rested up after sightly vandalizing the place to gain entry to every room, sorry whoever owns the mysterious tower in Ormpur... and Rith named it "The Tower of the Glorious Tiger Rider." Yes, I told her she needed Tindra's permission, first. She gave me -that- grin. What do I get myself into? We still hadn't told her about Lorelai, yet. I think we'll need to soon.

    We made it back safely, but not easily. I took a peek to where the old Hin valley was, and it was a Troll swamp now. We battled Trolls for Gods only knows what reason, and slew them left and right... til we were quickly overwhelmed. Not bad for a group lacking large amounts of fire. I have the order to run, and Rith, thank the Gods, did so. I followed after holding them back another moment to ensure she got out.

    Demons and devils? I would take her orders. Flat out Troll combat? She deferred to me, and I am glad. I saw her take one too many brutal hits and thought it was done... that we would kill powerful fiends just to fall to warty monstrosities.

    We laughed all the way back to the bluff. She's got a great laugh. It's a heroes laugh, though I am not sure she knows that. It's inspiring. Granted, it's no Tindra-battle-roar, but it's got some power behind it too.

    I hope we find Lorelindra (I crack myself up) when we return... boy do we have a story for her._


  • _And here I originally thought that Tojan wasn't too fond of me. Now we're not only getting along, but she got me a fresh bottle of ink!

    I'm really … test?

    Fresh Dip.

    Ye Gods I'm going blind.
    Alright, going to try to save the ink per sentence, so at least I won't get a color change in the mid dle of words. Okay, that was ironic.

    Cute Tojan. Cute.

    Guess I'll keep this short, and make some new ink.

    Something(s) about Rith keeps me finding her. I need to learn more about her from back during Kara's time. She wants to learn from me too. I forsee more long talks. Lots.

    Oh, and Dash passed her test! I have to finish that work and update everything. No more distractions! Like… this ink.
    Very cute Tojan. Thank you._


  • _Happenings.

    Time moves on inexorably, and I am but a leaf swept away in it's currents… yes somehow it moves on without me too. Events, though... those all seem to hit me. Thankfully, in this case.

    Twice, I was able to be there for people I love, and I am eternally grateful to Mielikki, and whatever other powers that be for making me able to do that.

    First, Vash't. My den-brother, the Wolf who was there when Mielikki charged us with making the den whole and alive again. He was in ... horrible shape. What's worse, if I'm reading the scars upon him correctly... which I am sure of, he's been tortured. He's been meticulously, and near-ritualistically tortured. Cut, healed, cut left to bleed, healed again. It almost looks like it's been more than a year. Perhaps two? At that point scars become hard to 'age' properly. I'll ask when he's ready...

    I was able to clean him up, and I think he was at least partially conscious when I did so, before carrying him to the den. I hope he knows he's safe now. I let him rest, and left food and water near him, so that he would have those when he wakes. I of course, had to get back to Norwick, and wait for those shades...

    I was a fool.

    Instead of wating, I led people to the crypts. We had ONE darkness shroud dropped on us... with nothing in it. We weren't sure what to assume from this, so we went to the bottom of the crypts, nearly to the Underdark itself, and found... nothing. Nothing unusual. Nothing special. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then the alarm bells sounded in Norwick, so loud that we heard it reverberate through the crypts.

    I led the retreat.

    We ran back, to find the inside of the city beleaguered, and battled shadows yet again. So many, everywhere. Finally someone tracked them to the top of the hill between the inn and city hall, and a little digging found a HUGE hole... into caves. Damn.

    A good wolf always carries rope, I unslung it, and set it up in the middle of the battle, and people leaped in. I waited, and let others do some of the work while I prayed. I prayed long and fervently, as I had this nagging fear. Some of the shadows had looked like her. Lorelai. The Lorelai with the green sword, the glowing blade. The dream-memory-Lorelai I encountered in her head. The one that went from embracing me to trying to run me through.

    I prayed for her safety. I prayed for my own. I prayed for success, and the blessings of Mielikki to follow me once we went below the sun's reach. My prayers were answered. I was in the thick of the fighting the entire time, except when I needed to fall back. I made Mielikki's prescense known, and was somehow repeatedly healed of my wounds, though I know not if that was Caelisar's doing, or Mielikki, or another. I do need to thank Caelisar, though. He's been a boon this entire ordeal, restoring my strength and healing me so I can get back to the front lines.

    One of the trips 'back', I came across Tindra's body. My blood ran cold, but I did not freeze. Thank Mielikki I found myself at her side, and breathed life back into her. I heard her heart flutter and start beating again, and saw her eyes open, then focus once more. Thank Selune for giving her back, thank Mielikki for my gift at healing. I can't lose her now...

    I managed to save Soliel when she was struck down in front of me right after I saved Tindra... but she was hit again by a fresh wave of shadows screaming, and I had no choice but to fight, as they were on me that very moment. I couldn't save her, dammit.

    I don't know how long we were down there. The air was heavy with the scent of blood, sweat, fear, and ... that smell that can only be described as darkness. I guess when you're pulling something directly from it's home plane, it brings a little 'with' it, at least when you're doing it like this guy was. It was horrible. I fought to the front again, nearly died twice, and when I had to retreat, Dietrick of all people saved me. He leaned down mid-swing, pressed a bandage to my worst wound, and nodded at me when I held it there, leaping back into the fray with a bloodcurling scream of fury to knock the shadows back so I could run.

    And run I did... only to be pursued again. By two of the shades.
    I could feel the fear on my heels like hellhounds nipping at me, the horrific influence chipping away at my resolve, the feeling of hopelessness as I mentally battled them for control of my own fears. I knew if I lost if, if I ran afraid, that they would have me. I didn't have much left right then... and a roar sounded in my ears just as I was telling Mielikki that I might be seeing her soon. Horlamin, a white bear in my blurred vision, crashed into the shades nearest me, screaming "Not if I have anything to say about it!" or something similar, and his boldness strengthened my resolve.

    He was right, who the hell am I to give up hope? I turned, and brought my blade to bear. The blade that the Halfdragon Hyperion wants to kill me for trading to HIS older brother. I gave his artifact back dammit, and this was what I got for it. If he comes back, I'll take this one to him. For now, though... it hewed through shadow. Shadow made solid, fear made tangible, darkness made malevolent and bloodthirsty, all of it in my face and chittering about my demise. A flash of Tindra's other self reminded me of the shadows similarity to that dark side of herself, and together Horlamin and I cut it down anyway. I have to live. For her. For them. For all of them. I am not a hero, I can't save everyone, but nobody if going to stop me from trying.

    No-thing, either.

    Horlamin and I grinned at each other, and I ripped through my pack for anything that could help me make it. The group was falling back as one, regrouping, and it seemed the shadows took a brief respite as well. Quelcoth, the banite with a heart of... copper? Bronze maybe? He was helping, and retreating to pray to Bane to help us all. I didn't have time to fathom his reasonings... my hand closed upon a rolled up parchment. This was it. If I could release these elementals into the room with the Necromancer, it could end it. If he killed one, another could take it's place. If he killed that, another would come too. Four or five would come, and he would fall. I was saving it for the Hungry One. Saving it for the Dracolich.

    If I didn't live til then, what good would it do my corpse?

    Healing assaulted me from all sides. "Do it, Jerrick." "We have your back." "Be careful." Encouragement accompanied magicks, and Ronan and I charged forward. Somehow, when we're together, damned near nothing can stop us. That reassurance hit my mind like a refreshing drink of cool water... and I fell to distraction. I managed to summon the elementals, the first one... and fear took me. I ran, and hid in a corner. The elemental felt my fear, and lashed out... nearly removing Ronan's head. Or so he said. I was hiding...

    He pushed past anyway, as did Dwin and Quelcoth, Dwin holding the necromancer back with Axe and fury... until Quelcoth made it explode or something. I assume that's what happened with Dwin's grumbling...

    And here's me, coming to my senses finally, with the most powerful elemental I could possible have a hope of summoning, latched to a spell far beyond my abilities, unused and useless.

    Fuck.

    So much for that grand plan.

    At least most of us survived, and thankfully, Soliel came back.

    I just woke up to breakfast, with a smiling Tindra and her painfully cute nightie as the bringer of sustenance. We joked before passing out, that we could finally say we 'slept' together. I think we laughed ourselves to sleep, thanks to that. It's not that I don't... want to. It's just... I don't know. I think that with me poking about her head... okay, walking AROUND in it, that things just don't seem quite right for us, yet.

    We're together, sure. We both just ... it's like we're reserved for each other, but simply not going anywhere with it yet. Part of it may be the fear of wondering who is going to make it out of her head when I'm done meddling. part of it may be some deep seeded fear of her leaving like the rest, regardless of the reason. Part of it might just be ... me. I don't know.

    Regardless, I will fix this. I will save Tindra and Lorelai, or I will make it so they can choose, together. I am SO wary of bringing anyone else in on this, but I know I can trust Thorn, at least. Perhaps Rith could be a good choice, too. I'll talk to her shortly about it. She's praying now, and I'm trying to finish this before she returns. Gods I've written a lot. Time to get more ink._


  • _Being attacked doesn't really bother me overmuch anymore. I mean… sure, there's a reason to be a little offended when it's by someone you know, from invisibility, over something that wasn't your fault. Sure there's reason to be ticked off when it's not happened yet, but you're watching over yoru shoulder for some crazy woman who thinks you killed her husband to come at you with sword and spell and soldiers. Probably mostly soldiers...

    Now, being attacked by a part of someone's mind that they don't have full control over? That's just... new. Lorelai attacked me. THE Lorelai. Well, kinda. A Shadowy, strange Lorelai from Tindra's memories. Or Lorelai's memories... or something? I confronted her nightmare, the one that apparently always kills me, while I was mucking about in her head. Granted, the spectre-memory of Lorelindra (Heh, I amuse myself yet again) was hugging me before she tried to shank me with a sword that dripped acid (That hurt quite a lot to get hit with) and I thought I was making her feel better, but it appears that she took me for a sucker. Glad I was ready for that...

    I talked to Thorn, who basically berated me for not asking him to help me sooner. Apparently Lorelindra talks to him about everything.

    I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous. I shouldn't be jealous.

    Alright. I'm not jealous.

    Gods dammit. I hate being the last to know. Now who else can I trust in there. I mean... it's like asking people to help me fight inside a glassmaker's shop. Who can I trust not to swing their weapons, magic, emotions, decisions, egos, or any other damaging thing around in the head of the woman I think I love?

    That's another thing. I know how I feel about her, I do. It's just... what if she's not who she was when this is all said and done? What if it's all Tindra, and she wants nothing to do with me afterwards?

    (Something is scribbed out here)

    _That doesn't matter. I'm doing it anyway. Besides, it's not like the worst thing that could happen is something I'm not entirely used to already. At least this time I'll know WHY things have to change.

    I guess sometimes it's the little things that matter.__


  • _Pixies…

    They're interesting creatures to begin with, these Prime-Bound fey. I'm not certain, but I think some cross over from Avalon and get kinda stuck here for staying too long, and stay. I think others might be born natively here. For a Druid, I sure don't know enough of this stuff...

    Tojan is Tindras. And Lorelais, come to think of it, though I'm not sure how okay she is with that idea. I mean... she does refer to both of them as 'hers', though there's hesitation when she sounds worried about 'Dark Kitty.' Hesitation that lasts until she's in trouble.

    She had another nightmare, one so hard it knocked the little familiar off my shoulder. I swatted the poor gal when I tried to catch her, too. Couldn't have helped much, that.

    I ran to her, changing into a Dire Tiger on the way there to have claws to dig at the earth, and propel me faster. I launched myself into the glen, leaping over poor surprised Siril, and went to her, changing back to cradle her in my arms and try to calm her.

    Just when I thought she was calming, she woke with a shriek. Apparently something happened to me there. In her dream, that is. Frankly, I'm not one to let things happen to me without a fight... even in someone else's dream. I need to DO something. I held her while she cried, and when she went to go clean up, I have her a key to my house, and told her to meet me there.

    Then I left to prepare.

    She's been gone a little while, but I have what I need here in front of me. Basically, my altar. Aside from that, I have spells of wisdom to invoke an understanding in me for all I can see and experience , and some spells in case this works. Death ward. Spell resistance. My usual complement on top of it. That... and the ring Titania gave me that I can't remove is glowing happily as usual.

    Yes, writing this down helps, you moron. How else are you going to justify what you're about to try? I know she'll agree, because we've talked about it before... but what if it works? I guess that's why I prepared. I'll ask her for something close to her, some item to use as a focus, and then it's time to go... if this works. Gods please let this work, and if it does... Mielikki protect me.

    Protect us both...

    (Edited to show the correct gender for Tojan, the she-pixie)_


  • Jerrick sits in his home, before his altar to Mielikki, thinking. The cut on his palm healed nicely … but left disturbing visions. It was exactly what he intended to happen... in a way, but such things never happen without shaking the viewer to the core. His fellow Wolf was right. He sought answers, and got them. It was time. It IS time...

    [The following is a recollection of a series of PMs with a DM, so pardon any inconsistencies with tenses, etc., and it's been edited some for flow in reading]

    =============================================
    -Days ago-

    Jerrick, follower of Mielikki, gained a vial of tainted blood from Thorn. It was the blood of a diseased bear who came seeking release in death from it's suffering.

    He took it to the shrine in his house and set it there, spilling a little upon a hide and settling down to pray for guidance from his Goddess.

    [dru]Mielikki, I ask that your eyes fall upon your chosen, grant me the wisdom to find the source of what ails your children, what plagues our friends, grant me the foresight to act as you would have me do. He casts Owl's Wisdom, then Owl's Insight upon himself

    He cuts his own palm with a knife, after some time of praying that Mielikki guide him, and then addresses Talona as well.

    [dru] Lady of Poisons, Mistress of Disease, Goddess Talona, hear this protector of the balance. I beseech you. I know of your scripture, I know of your purpose, and I respect your place in the balance of nature. As such, I give of myself to you, that I might know your will, and work upon the balance as is my duty.

    On the cut part of his hand, he casts Infestation of Maggots, the creatures which can also be used to clean wounds, and recites part of her scripture.

    [dru]Let pain be as pleasure, for life and death are in balance, but death is the more powerful and should be paid proper homage and respect. Death is the true power, the great equalizer, and the lesson that waits for all. If it falls to you to drive home the point with the tip of a dagger, so be it. The Mother of All Plagues works upon you from within, and weakness and wasting is her strength. Talona's breath is forever and always with you, whomever you or the rest of the world believes in or serves. Let all living things learn respect from Talona and pay homage to her in goods and in fervent worship. If they do so, intercede for them so that Talona will not claim them - this time. Go and work in Talona's name and let your doings be subtle or spectacular, but make them known as the will of the Mistress of Disease.

    He pauses, then addresses her again.

    _[dru]I work in Talona's name to survey those that do her work, and ensure that all is done according to the greater plan, and in accordance to the balance that I uphold as Druid.

    I beseech you. Show me where to find those who act within your realm. Show me those that would make work such as yours, and tell me if this is your wish. I humbly request your knowledge, and to pass on your will with mine own in regards to the greater Balance. Even if it needs be pushed home with the point of a blade, for I am hunter. I am balance. I am Druid._

    He waits, and lets the disease take him for as long as necessary, knowing that his fortitude and natural ability at healing keep him free of actual danger from his spell.

    ============================================
    [What happened]

    Almost immediately following the completion of your prayer you Feel a sharp pain in your palm where the maggots tend to your open sore. The pain steadily intensifies, and you feel the uncomfortable sweats of nausea, your head begins to spin and eventually you black out. You awaken in what can only be described as a dream like state, standing in the middle of the Rawlinswood. Many of the once bountiful trees are nothing but rotted husks, skeletal remains of small animals can be seen scattered throughout the forest floor. A Raven caws from above, breaking the eerie silence of the forest and lands on a branch extending from a rotted tree before you and stares at you inquisitively with a gleam in his eye.

    =============================================
    [His actions]

    Jerrick, suspecting he was indeed in a dream-state of sorts, shifted to the form of a DireWolf, padding through the rotted wood on silent paws, searching his surroundings, and swiveling his ears constantly.

    Being in such a state, Jerrick speaks normally despite the animal form, sitting himself in any clearing of sorts that he can find.

    [dru]I come seeking answers.

    He lets the silence devour his words, feeling the mental sting of his now-paw where his wound is.

    I am Silverfang. I am Druid. I am balance. I am patience, and I seek. Who will come forth, and honor me with their presence?

    He waits another long moment, and speaks one final thing.

    I await you.

    And as he stated, he waits patiently for whoever has dominion over the realm he has quite suddenly found himself in. It takes a concentrated feat of will to keep his nerves, but it is something he's done before.

    Jerrick has hung for the Irmunsil for three days, and risked life itself to know the will of nature. He has spoken face to face to Mielikki, Talos, and an entity he does not know, and reunited the kingdom of the Seelie by standing up to the High Queen Titania . Still, he knows his place, and it is at best as a guest in a place such as this, and at worst… prey.

    He waits in his great beast shape, senses fully alert, acutely aware of the situation he put himself in. He waits ... and ever so slightly, smiles inwardly to himself. Sometimes, knowledge is worth the risk.

    ==============================================
    [The response]

    As you pad through the corrupted Rawlins, you notice once more the untainted Raven soaring above you. The Raven does a few circles before landing on the ground a few feet from you.

    _"You've come seeking answers" It caws out

    _"I show you the future, which the Rotting man shall bring to the Dunwood?" Motions to the corruption all around him

    _"The balance is no more, and the great Decay has begun, it starts at the heart of the forest and will soon devour all that surrounds."

    The bird then suddenly takes off and flies away, you are then assaulted with the sickening feelings you felt before you blacked out, you awake once more within the Shrine. The cut on your hand fully healed

    ==============================================
    [Present]

    Jerrick's mind is awhirl with thoughts, plans and strategies and tactics and decisions fighting for their place at the forefront of his mind.

    His emotions are akin to a monsoon as well, the winds of feelings whipping through him in such a fashion that he almost felt a physical tremor as he took the time to consider all thigns past and present that brought him to this point.

    _Things have to be done.. He thought to himself. There was a glance back to where Tindra lay peacefully, and things calmed a bit. She usually had that effect. Tindra, Lorelai, the same werecat Sorceress to him in either fashion. He set quill-pen to paper after drawing out the journal, smiling slightly to himself. Not many used manticore quills to write, but lately he'd decided a sturdier writing implement was best, filled with ink rather than poison.

    _The rotting man.

    There's something of the rotting man in all of us. What else is age, other than natural forces eroding a body, returning it to the land, to the lives beneath it in the circle, to become something else for the balance to absorb and create anew from?

    This too, however, must be balanced. I find it almost funny how the Furies are so full of power, full of life even in the last moments of their own, or in the taking of it … yet the powers that they represent are the ones we turn to when their part of the balance tips too heavily, and loses control.

    Fire. Lightning. Ice. Powerful forces, destructive forces. Decay breaks down, but the bringers of it can be broken too. I have been filling myself with it, lately. The power of destruction. My prayers are edged with a promise of blood, my blades edged with the promise of power brought forth from such prayer.

    And our circle-stone...

    Oreth helped us unlock it. It blessed our staves with all the raw power of it, and now Belia and I are the only ones left in these lands. I'm sure the power is divided between us, releasable only unto the tainted forces of this land. If I have to drive this staff into the beast itself, I will gladly risk my life doing it.

    The rotting man is a force of the Hungry One I believe. It is a weakness that threatens us so that his minions can sweep down on us without opposition. Without the beasts of the forests to rend and harass them, they will be able to march unimpeded upon us.

    I need to meet with the other Elders. We need to link Irmunsil and our Stone, and we need to bring that power to bear. The ONLY thing keeping the land from pushing off the rest of the lingering blight is the influence of the Hungry One ... we need our strength back.

    We will make this happen. I will make this happen. I think I need to pay a visit to a certain Faerie queen..._____


  • _I almost feel bad.

    I don't mean that in a "I should stop" or a "I wonder if I should be doing this" kind of way. I mean … I would really, really hate to be them.

    Them, of course, being the hobgoblins to our eastern borders. The ones that slay anyone who comes through unawares, the ones who are in league or being dominated by those mad-god cultists, the ones who ocassionally work with Ostromog, and usually simply sit around planning ways to mess with Norwick.

    Yeah, them.

    If I had found every one of my kind slaughtered by blade, arrow, and bludegon within leagues of me, and went to the cave to find the exact same thing there, I would probably be a little unnerved. Possible even mad.

    When I realized that they didn't leave tracks? That's reason for fear.

    I took Rasuil a couple days ago, and Brendel this time. We made a hell of a mess out of those Hobs both times ... but this time, Brendel and I were 'found'. Of course, by 'found' I mean, Hobs came exploring the cave full of their dead comrades a moment after we finished clearing it.

    Luckily, I have good tracking skills, and was able to pick up on them before we could be surprised. A Chieftain looking fella, and loads of others spread out and started searching. We waited. We lurked. We picked some off when I was seen, and moved in from there... only to find one of the powerful mages, some kind of summoner (Demonlogist) of sorts.

    Brendel was caught in one of those black tenacle spells, so I caught the hob in a Summoned Celestial Dire Bear spell. It gave us the edge we needed to kill him and Berserker... except the caster -ran.- Funny how an arrow at the base of the skull stops that kind of thing pretty quickly. I love when a shot flies true.

    We made it out with nothing that had seen us, surviving, and got all the way back to town, when I saw tracks from a lone goblin.

    He was dropping -roses-, of all things. We killed him, and out of instinct, I picked the flowers up. . . well, all but one.

    That flower was the spot where an Umberhulk came out of the ground, then, and started wreaking hell. I had a few of the roses at this point, and then I was surrounded.

    We cut them down easily, and I tested a theory that I don't know how I made the conenction to so quickly. I guess it just made sense. Assassin drops flowers, Umberhulk digs up under them. I shapeshifted, sniffed them, and they were SO overpoweringly strong I almost sneezed.

    I suspect they were the equivalent of ... tracking scents. I think they were manipulated, because their smell actually sharply faded away after a few minutes, too, and now I hold perfectly normal roses.

    All in all, not bad, but a busy day.

    Tindra likes red, doesn't she?_


  • _Reflection.

    I look back on what I wrote, and realized I forgot to write where I went. I won't forget, of course, but other people wonder. If I fall, this journal will surely be found, and read, and perhaps a few questions might be answered.

    This last sojourn of sorts, was to fast. To sit in an open field, exposed to the elements, and to be open to Mielikki's message. Her words, her thoughts, her will. I waited until I felt the utter calm take me, and put my thoughts away.

    Thoughts of love. Of hate. Of War. Fear, longing, uncertainty, lonliness, emptiness, all of it washed away.

    Peace.

    I don't know how long it lasted. I don't count days in this state. They are meaningless. I knew Fayt was in the woods close by, in case I should be attacked by some foul creature, or fall prey to those Malarites, but nothing came. I spent my time contemplating on my Goddess, and thanking her. I needed to calm my soul.

    I did that not just because it was half torn out my Belma'r and his spell-thing. I did that not just because my mind was reeling from the previous domination directly after being returned to life.

    I haven't any idea just how far I walked to get there, I just went until it felt right. I ran as a Tiger, trotted along as a Wolf, even spent some time riding thermals as a Hawk. I feel whole and clean again, but for more reasons than that.

    I feel clean. I feel whole again. I feel right within myself, and right with my Goddess. In seeking words of Gods, sometimes no news is good news. I spent my time, I opened myself, I trusted my body and wellness to the land. I have returned, and set to fixing the little things that fall apart when I am gone.

    I spent nearly a day researching the old Wolf documents. I planned on electing Rasuil council leader, but had the ranks mixed up in my mind. I thought that was first bow, and then there were town bows under that. Heh, good thing I read over things.

    I cannot elect him myself. Well, I could. I could re-write the rules. I could change the charter as I see fit. It IS my pack, of course. Some traditions, however, I choose to keep. Some of my Wolves like to doubt me. Many of them question me, even if not to my face, and I hear about it from others.

    In this, I will give them no cause. The pack-leader is chosen by the pack-leader before them, so the one under him is chosen by the pack. It makes sense. Also, this is a test. This is a test like none other I have given any of them, to see why things fall apart when I am gone. To see if they are capable of governing themselves should I fall, or need to leave again for a time. So far, they've proven that they cannot.

    It's not so much a failing on anyone's part in particular, but merely a clash. Morals, ethics, tactics, habits, desires… they all collide when I am gone and do not offer a final voice, an ultimatum, an order. Petty squabbles lead to resentment, and disagreement seemingly enough merely for the sake of disagreement.

    I will make this stop, even if I have to scruff every last one of them. Fadia taught me well. She used the stick when necessary. Tala taught me well, though I don't think she knows it, or exactly -what- she taught me. I watched, I learned, and I chose what traits I liked and wanted to embody, and worked on becoming the leader -I- always wanted. Fair, but final. Hard, but fair. Caring, but unyielding when necessary. I cannot waver in this, or the purpose of it all will fail.

    At least I have this comfort, now.

    My journal rests on her arm, as she rests on the pillows with my cloak over her. She's delicate in a way, but has embraced a fierceness lately. I almost blame Uljas, but I recognize it in myself and others, too. There's this inner beast in many of us that her were-blood has -nothing- to do with. It's controlled only by sheer will, and gives strength to purpose that is almost frightening in it's intensity.

    To talk as we did... and see that same intensity merely in her eyes, and hear it in her words, was eye-opening. Feather's letter changed something in us. I was ready to simply be that leader without someone by his side at this point.

    Celestria, Kara, Sierra, Kaetlyn, Feather. Gods but I must have a reputation by now. A God and another man, a deal with a devil, dissapearance, a God and a quest, and family obligations. It's always something, and every time I've worried if it was actually me. Did I chase them off? Neglect them? Did I miss something? Am I missing something? Did I not wait long enough? Did I wait too long? I have agnonized over this, and more. I have screamed at the wind, howled at the moon, and bathed in the blood of enemies to vent my frustration, reveling in knowing that I at least had SOME power over what happens to be, even if it's merely by the strength of my body, and the singing of my blood.

    I can't simply push her away. She knows me more than any other has, for a few reasons, even though we've never lay together. Last night our lips met for the first time, and now she lays peacefully while I scribble on this journal upon her arm. I am taking things slow for now. At her pace. At our pace. I will not rush anything, as I have sought and found patience unyielding. I own it, I embody it. I need it. It's the only thing keeping me able to help those that look to me for it. Not surprisingly, Tindra, Lorelai, is a part of that. Her own battle has been like my own in many ways, and she has given her fears to me, and her heart with it.

    I will make that right. She won't say it, but I owe her that much. I've told her how much she has helped me, and she brushes it off and says I've done the same. Almost too much like me sometimes... I think she is waking now, her breathing changed. I'm glad to be home. I'm glad I read the letter. I'm glad for life, and now...

    I continue to live it._


  • _I blame Tindra.

    Yeah, it's a good thing, and yes, it is her fault. I suppose for the sake of keeping it fresh in my mind, I should start closer to the beginning.

    Months ago now, my first encounter with those mad-god bastards and their newest play. The Norwick guards made their way up to the gate… but I hadn't seen them coming. I was preoccupied, arguing with someone a bit, mostly banter. They passed right on through, and someone said something about where they'd been, and one spoke. Said they were returning from patrol.

    I was shapeshifted when they appeared. I was a wolf. MY nose was as keen as my attention, and when I sniffed in their general direction out of habit, those habits paid off. They've saved my life before, and may have saved someone's that day.

    Four men. Older. Similar looking. I smelled ONE. That left three unaccounted for bodies in front of me that had a smell, but it was definitely not human. It was goblin. I didn't waste time discerning which type of goblin, I rushed past them, and told them to stop at the top of the hill by the -real- guards, as if I were Militia. The cloak-colors are backwards for that, but I trusted that they may not know that.

    Sure enough, the human one said something about meddling adventuers, and screamed "Kill them!."

    I was ready.

    Lightning assaulted even as I unsheathed the first blade, and the second joined it in a vicious upward "X." One of my blades managed a deep bite right away, and the fake guard staggered, quickly brought low by Fayt's jaws. By now the other guards had joined in, as had the other adventurers nearby at my shout that those were not real guards.

    We cut them down, and they had nothing special of note on them... except that three were hobgoblins. This REEKED of Izakiel, so I organized a search. We were going to the hobbers, to find out just what the hell he was up to now. I'd killed "Guards" before that were hobgoblins. If it looks like something, but smells like something else, there's never any question as to what it is. It's a good thing I've tasted a few species.

    To make a slightly long story short, we went far east, and found Mad-God cultists and their hobgoblins. We burst into their ranks like frenzied beasts... as I was a diretiger at the time, the effect was doubly effective, and wreaked hell on their panicked casters whose spells were working less than our own even in that damnable wild magic that they seem to practically carry in their pockets.

    One moment the sounds of battle were all around, the group having been able to cut me a wide path, straight to the leader... the next I was on the ground in my own blood when just a moment before, I'd been cutting down a chieftain of sorts with claw and fang, flesh giving way like paper before me.

    The silence when one's own heartbeat ceases is deafening... so is the sound of your Goddess's skin sliding across your own as she takes your hand and lifts you to your feet, and the gentle but universe-heavy push she gives you as you are restored to life.

    The looks on their faces were priceless. I walked off unharmed, and they were so surprised they almost let me go... before being ordered to sieze me. I told them I was a dragon, that they did not want to enrage me, and snuck an Acid Breath potion, scaring the superstitious hobgoblins away until they were called back...

    Seven scrolls. Six of them it took to dominate my mind. One arrow I put into Balma'r. One death aura from him that I somehow hung onto my soul halfway to survive... and one escaped badguy.

    We won, more or less, I suppose. For the moment.

    They came again today, and I spoke to Tindra afterwards, after we all got a personal visit from Izakiel after beating down every caster inclined creature in the Rawlins...

    Why was I brought back? I died once after the visit with the cultists, defending Adriell and the Little Wolf, and was brought back then, too. Divine Intervention is as rare as an angel visiting the prime. It got me thinking...

    Is there some purpose I'm supposed to live to fulfill, and be expendable thereafter? Or is it something else. Something less grand and fatalistic... but more along the lines of that "Grand Purpose" simply being who I am. I fulfill a role or three in these lands, and keep my own balance of sorts. Is that enough to warrant such intervention directly from a Goddess?

    Tindra and I thought it over, and we like that answer best. It may not be right, but who are men to examine the minds of Gods? I think doing our best for those we serve is reason enough to keep surviving, and if they help us out in the process, we must be doing something right.

    Gods she helps me so much sometimes. Tindra, thanks._


  • _How you do write silence?

    Do you

    … ?

    Is it a sentence with a in it?

    How do you best describe the feeling of a room that you KNOW someone was in not long ago, while you feel them getting further away, and feel this heavy, sudden, finality to something, someone that you loved, cherished, and wanted to be beside?

    I don't think very far into the future, as a rule. Thinking ahead breeds expectations, and expectations are the seeds of disappointment. I live for the days ahead, but with little more anticipation than say ... my next meal. Yes, I plan to enjoy it, and I might have a preference, but it's going to come regardless, out of necessity, so I will be content until it's time is upon me ... to wait.

    Will I wait again?

    I am unsure. Somehow, without it being said, that kiss upon me while I 'slept' was heavy with finality. Just as I often disappear into Avalon, or on business unexplained, so felt this goodbye from Feather. There was no explanation, there was none needed. We both know that I have duties that will keep me away, and I told her of this, and she accepted it with grace.

    Why is this different?

    I think it's the bond. The ... whatever it was between us. I can feel her moving away, but not just distance wise. She's trying to hide it. Not out of spite, but ... Hells I don't even think she knows she's doing it.

    I'm no sage, despite appearances on the occasions that I manage to stutter out something profound sounding. It doesn't take a sage thought, to know that this is goodbye. Go with my love, Jynai. She who is knows as Feather by most. Go with my strength, and Mielikki's gentle hand to guide you home, to wherever that ends up being for you.

    You are loved.

    -J

    He doesn't send a letter by hawk asking for answers, nor saying goodbye. There were always some things that didn't need said between them. He wasn't going to burden her with goodbyes. They had already been said._


  • _Ghosts.

    Why is it always ghosts?

    Hellsakes, it's been a busy day. Normally, I don't mind, but a lot has happened in the past few days, and at first, it was well under my control. That changed in a hurry, to be honest with myself. It started with a trip to Mintas…

    Jerrick takes a few long moments to remember the trip itself. It was a productive trip, and a nice bit of practice, too. Magic, fighting, all of it forcing his mind from useless thoughts, or distractions in general, useless AND otherwise.

    _Jerrick gave instructions several times, usually things like "Don't let the animals bite you, they have brain-fever" and "When we get there, try to let me take a shot at forcing them to submit before we attack."

    Some of his other advice like "If two tigers come, RUN." needed not be heeded after all it turned out . Luke, Troff, and Gina turned out to be a hell of a team to have handy, and it was they who accompanied him. Jerrick's current thought as he reminisced over his journal, was remembering Gina standing by while two direwolves, two diretigers, and a dire bear were attacking them … since Jerrick had said not to engage at that point. Luke dodged the dire tiger's swipes deftly, as did Troff, with more use of his shield.

    Jerrick moved to either side of the fight as he battled a wolf on his own, attacking more than defending. He never was much one for being terribly dodgy, relying a bit more than he likely should on magic. He did manage, though, to turn one of the animals to his side. He took it while it had turned away from it's opponent, and taken it's face in both hands, risking his own being bitten off, and staring it in the eyes. "Submit" he said, doing his best to radiate calm assuredness, dominance. It was not the usual way to do this, but it would have to do mid-battle ... and it worked. The animal tensed, then relaxed, and stood passively by while Jerrick attacked another who was busy worrying at Luke.

    Two scimitars flashed and finished an enraged dire bear, one burying itself in the throat, the other anchoring Jerrick by sticking near the shoulder so he could drive the other home. It was a lucky strike, but he was getting better with those, lately. Then, there was quiet.

    It was the forest kind of quiet, with plenty of background noise, but no cries of battle, snarls of foebeasts, or clashing of weapons, fangs, and claws. Jerrick quietly borrowed the shape from the last critter, a tiger, and decided it was time to go, to the assent of his compatriots.

    Three new shapes, one familiar, the other two different from his usual by sheer size. The Dire Tiger being the stangest ... he practiced them both on the way back. Gina spoke of wishing she could learn more history from the place, Luke spoke of wishing they had gold, and Troff just seemed glad to go home.

    Funny how that worked ... and then Brendel was waiting for them at the ferry, and got informed about Jaelle's demise and some of her recent doings ... he seemed nearly in shock. They headed back after that, but Jerrick didn't see Brendel until the Norwick gates, when he came across Adriell again. The memory brought him back to his book, and he read what he wrote to regain his thoughts.

    _The trip went well, but what came after was not so good. Brendel learned about Jaelle, and I came across Adriell, who I can tell isn't taking the three year abscense she experienced in three weeks very … well?

    I'm, as usual, partof the problem I think. It sounds pompous even on parchment, but we sort of had something before she left, something not like lovers, but closer than friends. Then she vanished. I had told her I was Kaetlyn's, and only decided years after that, to move on. To her though. it likely feels like a fresh betrayal of sorts. Or something else? I wouldn't know, I'm lousy at this.

    Apparently she met or heard of Feather immediately after returning. While I don't want to hide Feather, I'd rather it have been me to tell Adriell. It just seems... fair? Right? Hells, I can't even decide for myself how I feel about it.

    And speaking of feelings, I had a bit of a talk with a philosopher of sorts before the Mintas trip. It wouldn't say it was enlightening, so much as kind of interesting. Not the interesting I would go back for, just interesting in that I now know that there are some folks who think SO deeply on the meaning of things that it baffles me.

    To each their own, I suppose.

    I should eat now. I've made room in my head by clearing out these thoughts, might as well stuff my face with food.

    Damn Adriell and her fat jokes. Way to give a guy a complex...

    First you, then that Spirit of Hate that keeps appearing and giving me hell. It would have beaten me this time, too, alone as I was, had I not given it the bane it loathes most.

    Need to remember that.___


  • _I did it.

    It's complete, and the enchantments held.
    The design is simple, and made just-right. Thin, very sharp, and perfectly suited for a steady, but light fingered grip.

    The sparkle along the slightly blued blade looks to be flecks of something within the metal, and it glitters with promise, as if awaiting the touch of something … more. The spell crytal fragments won't hold any spells, I know that. The coating of them fused into the blade though, may help focus my spells. At this point, I'll take any edge I can get.

    Damn, I even pun in my journal. I really need to quit that.

    I've set up a place in the den to do it. I will have her bathe, first. I will already be clean, and in new garments. I don't want to risk infection, even though I can throw spells at her til she's better. That's not how this is going to work.

    Magic caused this problem. I'm going to go in, fix it, and use ONLY what magic is necessary, and let her body do the rest. May Mielikki guide my hand..._


  • _Good idea Ronan.

    A walk.

    Suicidal three.

    Tindra is basically one of the Suicidal Five now, and hey, as gamblers are wont to say, three out of five ain't bad.

    That is not only true in our case, but we were -more- than just "Not bad."

    We cleared the Lake, then went east. We cleared the hobgoblins out with them hardly aware of what hit them, and moved on from there. Further east still, we went, to the tougher hobgoblins. I think they were even more susprised than the first group of how quickly their companions fell. Fayt joined in, and we made very, very short work of our enemies.

    We then decided to go further still. Harpies crumpled in mid-air from arrows. Wyverns found their scorpion-like tails being batted aside, or their strikes utterly ignored, and we plowed through them to the scar until none were near enough to sense. From there, south.

    South held more of the same, except for one notable exception. We went out of our way to clear them all out, and then the ground shook something horrible when we hit a clearing. He loosed our knees a little, and all kept our feet, but I was in a wolfshape, and not at all prepared for what burst forth from the earth.

    Three Bullettes. I was in the middle, and I may as well have been in a shark infested pond. I was bitten badly three times before I could even shift back, and shifted back to find my greatsword the easiest thing to bring to bear. I wanted my shield, but that was a precious second I did not have.

    Crunch

    One of the creatures got it's snouth thoroughly smashed in for it's trouble by the great stone blade left to me by Telli, and I think ti surprised the critter enough that it faltered on it's next bite. Spells slammed home over my shoulders (Thank you for not frying me, Ronan! ) and distracted them further, giving me a chance to vault over the nose of the third … with my sword as the pole and it's nose as my launchpad of sorts.

    I made it to safety to drink a couple potions, and ran back to find one still barely moving, which we all took out swiftly.

    I hate striking down creatures like Bullettes and Stegadons, but my life needs to come first when I'm attacked like that. Plain and simple.
    At least now the den has some advanced things to work with, or I have enchanting materials, or both.

    Speaking of enchanting, I need to write about the club we earned.
    Perhaps tomorrow, Feather is sleeping peacefully, and I have half a mind to interrupt it, then join her. Forget half a mind, try

    The page abruptly cuts of here with a pooled dot of ink where the quill was let drop._


  • _I hate walking away.

    I hate having to walk away from my friends because I want to hit them.
    Is it so wrong to want to fix things with a punch? It's something I scold my apprentices for, and I should know better. I do, and I walk away, but I feel unsatisfied.

    It's amazing really, how a couple words can swing the context of a thing SO far off point, that the focus of it narrows down in the opposite direction from where it began.

    Troff mentioned that he and Feather had spoken about her joining the Legion, and that she has leadership capabilties. I am proud as hell of her after hearing how she reacted in the face of tragedy and death, and it almost makes me wish I was still with the Legion. Maybe I would have been there, maybe

    I need to knock that off. She's moved on, and clearly gone home.

    MY orders are clear.

    You have work to do. Do not falter. You walk the edge of a knife, don't give into your anger. Death comes, be ready.

    I don't fault Telli for her decision. Hells, she may not have been given the choice. Am I a little jealous? Only because of this.

    Grivel was a stout servant of Mielikki. He died protecting others, as he lived, and was taken into her arms. I cannot help but wonder. Did he choose? Did she choose?

    Me, I'm still here.

    I have been told SO many times, with varying degrees of bitterness, that I am lucky beyond words to have such a close relationship with my Goddess. I have met her many times, been raised from death by her and flung back to the mortal world as if nothing had happened, or with a mark to learn a lesson from.

    Yes, I am lucky. I am blessed. I am chosen. I am watched over.

    I walk the edge of a knife. I had duties to fulfill. She has expectations.

    Every time I come back to life, it's another chance to fall. Another chance to give in to something that is not her will. Another opportunity to ensure that I never find the peace that Grivel has. Another risk that I will fall from her grace.

    I'm not right all the time. People are lightning fast to point that out. What if I'm wrong when it really matters, what then?

    What then?_


  • _Changes.

    It seems about thet ime of year that the season should be changing, but since something happened during the N'jast war… nothing's been the same weather-wise.

    I don't know what reminded me of that just now, except that maybe my mind is once more on the subject of the Fury Gods.

    I suppose THAT thought stems from another... yes, I'm walking abckward down my mental ladder I guess, trying to find the first wagon on this caravan of thought.

    Elves.

    One needs to shut his damned mouth before it gets shut for him.
    I swear, that if I hear one more smartalecky comment about pups, pissing on trees, or stupid dogs, I'll feed his ass to Fayt.

    I was cordial to his face, and called Araatris back, though what the elf has no idea about is that I really hold no power over Araatris except that he seems to -want- to take my advice. For now. A little.

    One fucking attack happens IN town and people get away with it, BUT they're exiled, have bounties out for them, and there's a strong response, and suddenly people think they can just poke badgers with stick, so to speak, because the law will protect them.

    How do you explain that someone whose body is never found can't report shit, without it sounding like a threat? Hells, even if the body is dumped at the gates, AND they manage to remember things after returning from the fugue plane ... if they never saw it coming, and never saw it happen until they woke up dead, (I always laugh when I say that ... is that inappropriate?) then all they have is accusations to throw around without proof.

    Heh, on the topic of laughing ... if a bear shits in the woods, does anyone care when the elf ressurects from the pile to complain that he was eaten?

    If he doesn't quit taunting people who have no problems with taking a life, I worry that little Mari is going to find out. Time to go take a walk to Norwick, and be nice to his smug little face. He seemed pleasant enough at first, but I am now quite under the impression that he's a vindictive little person. Heh, this should be fun._


  • _Well, that was unexpected.

    I met with Araatris. I walked to the south gate, and came across many people gathered, but only two caught my eye. The one-eyes woodsman, Araatris, and Dana.

    Dana of course, only because she greeted me, and gushed about her marriage, and that she's now expecting a child. I try to be kind, while not paying her attention. I simply cannot forget the way she lashed out at me, just like Marty, and then had the nerve to get offended when I lashed back. I have as much respect for her as she has sense, and I admit to having seen little to none from her in the past.

    Perhaps she's changing. Time will tell. I'm certainly not holding my breath.

    I asked Araatris to speak with me, and he followed, stiffly.
    Luckily, we'd met before this, and on good terms, else it likely would have ended badly.

    I asked him about the fight with Caelian, what his desires were, basically I gave him a chance to sit and speak. I left open ended questions for him, and he answered.

    It's not so rare in these lands to find someone who wishes to leave something behind. It IS rare to find someone in these lands who knows where to go from there. Hells, I've been one of them.

    He is prideful. I am prideful. I know where it hurts, and I struck him there. I reminded him that he was bested, and saw a visible flinch at the words. I told him a little about the man who bested him, too. My apprentice. My brother. Someone who has more in common with this Malarite than either would likely like to admit.

    Perfect.

    He told me something that struck a chord in me, too.

    "To despise the weakness in others, and then to find it in yourself is not easy to swallow, Silverfang."

    I told him that to acknowledge that is the first step to finding strength once more, as well.

    I know this, because you cannot fight a foe you cannot see, or know, and hope to win. I then gave him a command.

    He had commented that there may be truth to my words. That was all I needed.

    "Once you find that truth in my words for yourself, " I told him, "Once you've decided. Find my apprentice. Tell him that you wish to watch him, or learn from him, or whatever it is that you seek. It will be a test for both of you, I think"

    He expressed some concern over them killing one another, and I told him that Caelian would not do that. He'd spared his life once already, had he not? That did bring to mind a concern for me, so I headed it off before someone else was faced with it.

    "If you wish blood, however. You -will- come to me. It will be far more swift and merciful than if you choose to give me a reason to come after you."

    He seemed to understand that, not even getting offended, which I respect. He understood that I don't threaten just to threaten. I don't -want- to come after anyone. Just like I don't -want- Jay or Jaelle or Jack to show up in front of me, harming someone. It won't stop me from acting on it, but I don't -want- it.

    "Should I seek an end to my suffering, I will seek you out."

    I try not to let that disturb me when I reply.

    "That's not an end to suffering, that's an end to -everything-. A wise man does not forget that. -You- should not forget that. "

    We clasped arms like brothers in parting, with the word friend upon my lips.

    It won't be easy, for either of them. Easiest perhaps, for Caelian, I think. He is making progress all his own, to be honest, and he has insight that I can admire. I should listen to his advice instead of blowing him off when he means well in speaking to me, but I never was one for taking my own advice either.

    One by one, things are improving, situations are resolving themselves, some of which I had a hand in, others not. I can live with that… so long as I no longer stay awake at night with as much on my mind, any progress is preferable to none.

    I like progress. Sleep is nice too. Ah, sleep.I would pursue you, but Feather is not here. I wish she was here, and I hope I haven't pushed her away... Gods for such a wise old Druid, I am such a doddering old fool sometimes._