3. The Long Walk, a Black Lion's Tale.

The Long Walk, a Black Lion's Tale.


  • _Today started like any other day.

    I fed the cat, Bub. I cleaned his area. I cleaned and polished my armor to it's mirror shine, and cleaned out my pack. I headed into town, then, satisfied that I could find something to do, and ran right into Locrian.

    Locrian, Captain Vanishing himself was sitting about talking with Drelan, that sailor fella. I was referred to as youngblood more than a couple of times, which doesn't bother me, and then talk of promotion was brought up.

    I did my best not to appear childish or -too- excited, but truth be told, that's exactly what I wanted to hear!

    Then I met Beourn's father. He didn't know about his son's fall, so I took it upon myself to be the bearer of bad news, to which he left immediately, presumably to go kill something.

    Loc got a little pissed, since apparently he was a candidate for the Militia, and I "May have just lost his newest recruit." He thrust a heavy package of metal stuff at me, and said to go catch him, and give him those things, so I headed south, juggling my things until they didn't feel quite as heavy, and went to find him, only to be brushed off, and left standing there looking silly.

    He should be fine, and I'll keep this stuff in my locker til I come across him next.

    It was shortly after that, when Locrian found me, and said that we should do some crypt-stomping, just the two of us.

    I agreed, and off we went.

    We make a pretty good team, Locrian and I. I took out those pesky ghost things while he held back a guard and a few stinking strong zombies, which I helped him take out as soon as my smaller foes were dead. We grinned, we roared, we laughed, we bled. Locrian is pretty single-minded in battle, focused, and not a terrible lot like the Locrian I see everywhere else, except between battles.

    Before too long, Mei found us, one of our greencloaks, and she joined us. She had made mention of possibly leaving for a while, taking time to think, and Loc grunted, before we moved on to bigger foes.

    Loc and I, with Mei to the side of us, took on Hildegarde and all it's friends, got spelled, stabbed, slapped, and slimed, but ripped apart our foes one by one, and made it downstairs with only slight injuries still. I was feeling great, since I had done quite well up to this point. There's nothing like knowing you're improving!

    Next, giants. He had intended to pick up the new Dwarven fellow some armor from the Dark Priests. What we found instead, was giants with the priests, as usual. I think it was the usual number anyway…

    The priests got a spell off on me and Loc each I think, but we stood there calmly til it was taken care of ... or rather, I stood there during mine counting the blows raining down on me, and watching things with dimming vision. I just needed that one second. JUST long enough to get that potion... and I did. A Heal potion cured me up, and I resumed the fight, taking some of the pressure off of the two of them.

    It didn't help Mei. Not long after I regained use of my limbs, she took a hard hit that looked like it was to the back of her neck, and sounded like it was a hit to a cracked longbow, and she dropped at once. My balm did nothing, so I resumed the fight, two giants and a Dark Priest still menacing us, and Locrian looking far worse for wear by the minute.

    I managed to take out the priest with Loc by my side while the Giant swung wildly at me, and I got to return my attention to him only after the priest stared at me from his split head, eyes locking with mine from other sides of the blade in accusatory hate, distracting me from the giant long enough to take another hit.

    Loc slid by, clearly moving off to take a potion or two, and then things got ugly. He got hit, and nearly knocked down. The giant pursued him, despite me hacking at it's legs, and Loc ... well, he stopped. He tripped, or faltered, I didn't see what happened. He probably tripped on the body of one of the things we killed, but with a defiant roar, he went down under one of those crushing blows, leaving me alone with two dead companions, and an angry, successful giant that had just slain my Captain and my recruit.

    And he was blocking the way, successfully.

    Luckily, I'm a big guy, I hit him, swore at him, and shoved past, taking a hit to my shoulder that nearly made me drop my axe, but I got by. I got enough distance to take two potions, Greater Bull's Strength, and Greater Endurance, which I had been saving for a special occasion. Saving Loc's and Mei's bodies from those necromancer freaks definitely qualifies, I think.

    I strode back, praying to the Lion as I went, and scraped my axe on the wall as I turned the corner to get the giant's attention, who was examining Locrian as if expecting a trick. He looked up with his beady little eyes full of interest and malice, and came bellowing at me. I roared back, sunk my axe in him, and proceeded to trade blows back and forth with this towering creature.

    FARK that hurts.

    The bastard made a mistake of turning his back on me, so I buried my axe in it, and removed his head for him as a courtesy, before picking up Loc and Mei, leaving their belongings behind when I heard another giant come forward, probably to the death cry of his kin.

    Thank the Lion and the Moon for Moon. She showed up, likely thinking to train on all the scary critters down there too, and helped me dispatch that last giant and recover their things, before getting me safely back to the surface.

    This is NOT how I wanted to get that promotion!

    Now I sit here with an ale that's lost it's flavor, a recruit that has fought her last fight heavily on my mind, and a Captain that is taking his time coming back.

    The healers say he hasn't refused, but is waiting. I suppose a vacation is deserved, but I can't help but fear that every day he is gone is a day closer to just losing him. I don't know how long you can stay in the fugue, to be honest, but I'm sure he'll come back.

    He has to.

    Right?_


  • _Here I sit in the Grapevine, enjoying the refreshing coolness of a chilled ale, but I can hardly taste it.

    Grim thoughts are on my mind, so I had might as well pick up where I left off, before I catch up to present.

    I was in the barrows with Ashena, and I think Victoria and another couple folks … heh, this is harder to remember than I thought. I do remember the other part though. The creatures were all around. Profaned Wights? Ravagers? I was holding them off, Victoria's spells aiding me, Ashena striking at them, when more came.

    Scores of their kin had fallen to us, my Black Lion biting hard into their hide, but this time we lost our momentum. I had been successful in holding to an old adage I learned on the road. "Sometimes the quickest way to kill an opponent is to cut through the man next to him." I had managed it against several, and some were even wary to get within range of my axe until now, before one of them finally locked eyes with me as he grasped by axe-arm.

    The world spun, before righting itself. I was still on my feet! It earned an axe-chop to the face ... but it was clumsy, and I swear it grinned. Something was wrong, and I knew it. I risked a glance back, and Ashena was getting healed. Victoria was striking at a foe just after, and thankfully the attention of this one and his allies was on me. I could give them a moment... there, my chance!

    I fell back slowly, keeping my shield up, and staggered. Somebody reached out to steady me ... and the world spun again. It wasn't one of mine, and the touch took more from me again. I couldn't think straight, I remember wondering briefly why I was moving ... and another hand gave me a little push. Again, that feeling of vertigo, then the cold stone on my cheek. Wait, stone?

    It didn't hurt. Not in the traditional sense. My body was mostly unharmed in fact. Something inside though... there's a feeling when you are killed. I used to be unfamiliar with it, but I fell twice in the recent months, and there's a hole inside now that I've only just begin to refill.

    That hole stretched wide, like the well of souls in Oscura. I felt that scream inside, then a tremendous rush of not-wind, it -felt- black, I saw red, then I was blinking against the muted not-light where Cassius and the Skeleton were beating on each other for some imagined offense or another.

    I was there for a time, I don't know how long, drawing Lions in the sand and praying for guidance. Why did he not come? Is three times too many? If it was my time, I would go, but I would ask one boon. I would see my Ashena once more before I go to the Hunting Plains of my fathers, or wherever else the Lion sends me.

    Her face was there, then. Her arms around me. I had gotten my wish, my goodbye.

    Her armor was surprisingly cold on my ghostly face, and I opened my mouth to speak, to find it dry, and full of the taste of the barrows floor. "Being a ghost sucks.", I thought. It took me moments to figure out that I was being told to pick up my pack, and hurry. The creature that ripped out my soul and claimed it for it's own had been felled, and my soul returned to me, instead of leaving back to the Lion, or elsewhere. Thank the Gods!

    I truly do have the bravest companions on Toril's cracked shell. They risked the fate they saw me fall to, to ensure I could be saved, brought home, and brought back.

    Facing down the giant the slew Captain Loc was the least I could do._

    The book is closed while Cecil finishes the ale, a grim expression on and off his face again while he thinks. Locrian had still not returned to life, but the Healers assured him that he had not refused, he was just … being Locrian. Cecil supposed that even Locrian deserved a break once in a while, and shrugged, getting up to order a meal. His journal was left open on the table while he spoke to Kresha a moment about Loc, and brought back his food, staring at the page for a bit before deciding what to write. Yes, it would probably be a good idea to re-live the battle, especially given what he learned from it.

    It could wait for a meal though. If Loc could wait, so could he. For now.


  • _It has been a busy couple of days, and I finally finished a nice long patrol after coming home from the sewers of Peltarch. Thanks the Gods for some rain on the way back, Tempest almost wouldn't let me ride!

    I suppose I should try to keep this in order of events, so first, Sir Roderick.

    Sir Roderick, or Sir Sandwich as I like to think of him, had requested aid some time ago, some time after his rescue from the hands of Bugbears. I had a part in that, and we have gotten along well, since. Hells, he even wears my half-plate that I sold him still.

    He had several artifacts of a sort with him when he was ambushed, and he needed some more items to fix them, and make parts for what they all combined to create, or were pieces to.

    Copper to begin with, which he finally got enough of.

    This couple of nights ago, was the time to meet to recover three items from the camp near where he was taken, which just so happened to be in a wood that messed with your mind, somehow.

    Luckily, (I can't believe I'm saying this) Bugbears and Orcs were frequenting the area, and apparently warring in it. The good part of this, was that they knew of the mind issues, and had stocked supplies of Mind Blank potions, which we came across after a few close calls.

    We wandered for quite a ways, with only the frequency of these caches to guide us, and dire animal to bite us, before we found foes. Bugbears, and plenty of them in some places.

    Albryanna had gone to get a few potions from a nearby cache, as she had run low, and Moon wasn't in sight, so when the Bugbear Battleragers appeared, I couldn't run. They would have gotten everyone else.

    I thought I was going to make it at first, able to dodge their attacks and shrug off a couple, when I dodged INTO a downward swing.

    I woke not long later, feeling terrible, another sucking hole where there is no actual wound, but feels empty. That's twice, now. Twice I've fallen, failed, and been left there by the Lion, to learn from my own mistakes I guess. The time before was on the treasure hunt.

    It's hard to tell myself that it'll get better, and soon.

    Regardless, I kind of have to try, right?

    We picked me up, and resumed. The fights got worse, archers harried us while waves of smaller bugbears charged, interspersed with the occasional sneak or caster. Tensions were high from the constant need to take a mind potion, and the risk of an allied arrow in the back, or sword in the gut, should somebody run out of potions or not use them when they needed to.

    We had just fought through another big group when we found him. A long Bugbear, obviously a leader of some sort.

    Since I was named leader for some reason, I told the others to lower their weapons when he laid down his. I got the information we needed after I introduced myself, that the Orcs had ambushed them, and retreated to the one place the Bugbears hadn't run them out of yet. The caves.

    I let him go. Bitsy frothed at the mouth. I had him show me the nearest potion cache, and it … was... enourmous. He got away free, and said that he would remember the deed, and we continued on. I knew I had done the right thing. Not the good or bad thing, the right thing. The thing most likely to get everyone else back safely.

    Bitsy may well hurt me for it later, but she stopped when I gave an order, and didn't even proceed to complain about it after that. Not too much, anyway. Well... not unbearably much.

    We then began to cut through orcs, finding pieces of the equipment Roderick needed as we went. I put them all in a box with my spare cloak, wrapped up safely as we found them, and orc-blood ran all over the cave as we powered through it. We did well, with only a couple close calls. I suppose the Bugbears made the orcs look like goblins.

    We pulled it off, short on patience, harried and hounded, bleeding and bruised, only to find the Bugbear again.

    Waiting.

    Bitsy had mentioned that she expected him to come back with reinforcements.

    She was right.

    Hah, if you're reading this I know what you're thinking.

    They escorted us safely back without incident. Didn't expect that, did you?
    Perhaps you did, if you've read the rest of this thing, now that I think of it...

    Roderick divided his old possessions, and those of his companions among us, and I got a chain for a belt, with a magic lock on it that protects the wearer!

    Anyway, we all made it back, though me and another lost a bit of ourselves along the way, and Roderick and I had a long talk afterwards.

    Looks like there will be more to do. Next time I sit down to write, I'll have to write down what it felt like to have my soul pulled out a piece at a time. For now, I'm tired, and the memory would be too much to stay awake through, I think.

    I can still smell Ashena's hair. I will sleep well, I think._


  • _It's no longer funny how the smallest things can make my whole day. I laugh anyway, but it's the happy sort of laugh, like finding a bottle of ale in your boot instead of a snake. Startling, unexpected, but perfect.

    Compliments on my armor at the fire, and immediate mention that Ashena speaks to others of me often, and fondly, are enough to make me smile til the next sunset or two alone. I'm surely soon to be known as the Grinning Guardsman or something silly, I'm certain of it. It takes about a day for one of the usual suspects to latch onto something I do (Or Ashena does) and find a way to tease me about it.

    I think I've grown fond of it. Cecilcecilcecil indeed!

    There was talk of promotions thrown about recently, and even more startling, Aramuil waxing poetic (New phrase, I think I like it) about the perks of nobility, and the possibility of knightings. It's all a silly dream, especially from Aramuil in the land without a King that is Narfell, but it's a nice though.

    Sir Roderick, or Sir Sandwich as I oft am fond of calling him, has invited me to learn more of his 'knightly' order, known as the Stee. I only now just realized that I may very well be able to get a few things out of Val about it, too. If anybody around here knows, it would be her.

    He said they were a scholarly knighthood of sorts, knights in name only or something, but … well, the thought of more knowledge intrigues me. It always has, I suppose.

    I speak the trade tongue of Damaran, Common, and the language of my home. That's two languages more than many of my kin. I have learned some lore of the lands, how to identify certain kinds of items, and have even been to some of the places here that some people still think are the stuff of legends alone. Granted, I also died in one of them... but that's quite beside the point by now.

    Speaking of points, I cannot help myself when enjoying an ale or a meal and hearing a plate-clad person approach, from thinking that it might be Aymon. Thinking that it might just be time for that talk.

    I am no longer afraid in the least. My shyness got in the way before, but there's really not much reason to be shy anymore. We proudly enjoy each other's company in the open, and speak more candidly, though she still turns that cute rosey color in the cheeks when people look at the two of us and make comment.

    I don't think I'll ever tire of that!

    I look forward to the day I meet Aymon for that talk. I do not fear the possibility of being tested at arms, even weakened slightly from my fall as I am. I do not fear judgement at the hands of her Order, her Family, or her friends. I -am- all the things she thinks I am, and I will prove it.

    Granted... it sure would be nice if I could get hold of Locrian and tie him to a post by his leg until he promoted me or something. It couldn't hurt.

    Much._


  • _Things are both slow and hectic lately, and I know not what to make of it, so I went to ask the Lion. I didn't need an answer, but I had to ask, really.

    The answer awaited me at the gates.

    Val had gone on a trip, and I had just returned from a long walk, skirting the edges of Narfell for a couple days, before heading back, only to find Bill at the gates, with a guard having escorted him there to look for me. Perfect timing, I think.

    Bill was tasked to stay with me, and perhaps learn more about what I do, while Val was away, so I happily took him to the inn for a nice hot meal until the dawn came, before heading on patrol.

    A simple spear and a small shield did nicely for him, and kept him out of trouble on the walk through the ruins, which impressed him thoroughly when he took a jab at his first echo, a moment before it fell before him, the two of us having flanked it well.

    His limp and shaky grip on his armaments made it a slow walk, and for awkward fights, but we took it slow while I explained all that I know of the area, just like when I come across travelers who are new to the lands. He is quick to learn, and eager for a story, and seems in higher spirits than before by far. I am hoping that Val returns with a story or three that will lift him further, and perhaps help pull him out of the depression that takes his face when nobody is looking.

    The lake was blessedly quiet, with only a few of the usual goblin rabble about, so we took the time to catch a few fish while we chatted. It was mostly me talking, of course, but he seemed happy which was what mattered anyway.

    I admit, I caught myself glancing about for Ashena more than a couple of times, as she has a knack for arriving at the most random moments, but alas, I did not see her today either.

    It's been several days, but I still have the memories of our last visit to keep me company, and the things we spoke of. I am now grinning at this book like a loon, and Bill seems to have awoken from his nap and is looking at me strangely, so I'd best put this up for now.

    I wonder how Val is doing._


  • _Alright Me (Cecil), or whoever is reading this. What I cannot really tell others, can go here I guess.

    This hurts.

    I can actually kind of understand why Ardent felt so desperate to recover 'herself' after her fall. This is a little bit painful in ways I didn't expect. It's not like an injury, it's like a scar. You forget it's there til you try to push yourself as hard as you did before.

    I have a tremble in my hands now, for the moment. It comes and goes, and is only noticeable when I'm holding a fork, or a bottle. Swinging an axe or sword hasn't been an issue though as I just mentioned, I can't push myself quite as far.

    It's alright, though.

    My friends brought me back to my feet, more than once in fact… but the one time I saw a place that was well lit, despite there being no sun in it's not-sky. A Skeletal fellow hovered nearby watching us calmly, if his boneless face could really portray such. There was someone else in the distance, who seemed winged, but I did not feel drawn to him.

    I stayed put, and said a quiet prayer of thanks to the Lion that I hadn't ended up cast into some abyss, or someplace where I would be lost and confused. No, this was better, to have solid surroundings, and a good grip on what happened.

    I don't even know what got me this time... statue? I think so...

    At any rate... we did it. So why am I so confused? No, that's not the word. The word, I think, is conflicted.

    I've seen people blinded by lots of things. Love, lust, dirt, wind, rain, spells, night, bright light, you name it. The strangest of all of these things, however ... is honor.

    I've seen Paladins face foes they had no chance against, and now I've seen warriors (And mages) try to provoke a needless fight against something when there was another way out... but that's understandable except for one thing.

    I should explain the rest, first.

    Somebody found a note, a treasure map made of riddles, it seems.

    I'll have to put it in here sometime.

    A group of people I know, and some I didn't before, were out treasure hunting, and I happened across them when I was off-shift looking for something to do, since many of them had a GPS on them. Gods this little scroll is handy.

    I was curious as to why people were out near Jiyyd, so I paid a visit, and was part of the adventure when I arrived, landing us in Mintas, and finding treasure stashed. Granted, it was gold and potions, but it was enough to get everyone excited about the prospect of the next, bigger find. Myself included.

    We lost a few people here or there, especially on the trip where we encountered Slaads. That was ... nasty. I wish when I said bad words, pillars of blinding power struck at my enemies, too!

    Anyway, we apparently had found all of them but one... which was in the Lost City. It's not lost in the traditional "Where is it" sense anymore, since several in our party knew where it was, but it was definitely lost to the creatures and powers that decided to occupy it. Hells, the statues that came to life in there alone were enough to discourage me from ever visiting with anything short of Shallyah and an army.

    She's a monster with those axes.

    That brings me up to the current thoughts I can't shake.

    The one who left the maps, who guided us along occasionally, who engineered the whole thing, had appeared to be a hin. As our adventures progressed, some others became convinced that he may be a dragon, especially once he spoke to those dragon statues, and made them jump off the edge and away from us, then jumped off himself, into what seemed to be a sheer drop.

    Well, we found him, in front of the last chest. Then he turned into ... what else, a Dragon. A red one.

    We had been told to prepare for fire, and there it was, fire incarnate. (New word for me. I like it!) Something was wrong though... Now let me get this out there, now. I'm no bard. I'm no scholar. I'm no researcher, or wizard, or genius by any means. I noticed something though, that took no effort past a simple observation.

    Maria and Shallyah were angered when the "Dragon" said that it would give us it's "hoard" but wanted something more in return, even though we had earned our final reward by fighting through the ridiculous challenges that we faced. It would settle for 1000 gold each ... or, OR, a set of snazzy clothes.

    Yep, it wanted fashionable clothing, in exchange for it's treasure, or some gold to take away, since it was giving away what it already had.

    Shallyah and Maria would not 'bargain' with an evil creature, especially one that they said had not honored a deal, and were -very- ready to take on this large creature right then and there.

    I did not speak up until later, after Walter had spoken to it in it's tongue, and it had told us to calm down, there was no need for fighting.

    I was almost apologetic, and was not seeming to want to fight us at all, but not out of fear. It seemed... inconvenienced, like it had misspoken and accidentally gotten us riled when all he had wanted to do was tell us good job, get some clothes, and be on his way, even offering us a chance to ride on it's back to get out. That, was tempting to me... but not just for teh chance to ride a dragon.

    No, it's because I for some reason became certain that it was NOT a dragon. At the very least, it wasn't a red... but I finally spoke up. I didn't think it would hear me until it turned those molten looking red eyes on me, and turned it's entire immense bulk to face me.

    I told it, "I don't think you're really a dragon at all. Not that you are less than one, I mean... you're just something altogether different, or more. " I babbled something like that, and earned it's attention, and those scales around it's sword-like teeth curled up into some kind of grin, when it acknowledged me.

    "Clever Boy."

    It wasn't acting like the dragons from legends. It -certainly- wasn't acting like a red, greedy and evil. At the VERY least, calling it not a dragon should have left me a smoking pile of ash... but none of that happened.

    I was right, and it told me so.

    I have NO idea still exactly what it was I was talking to, but something is out there that is strong enough to convincingly become a dragon, engineer these tremendous challenges in horrifically dangerous places, and afford to give us a large amount of treasure, including a ludicrous amount of gold. It also has a sense of humor, and is very intelligent, with a penchant for games.

    What -DID- we encounter?

    Regardless, I find myself thinking of Maria and Shallyah. For all Maria's vast knowledge, and Shallyah's superb grasp of tactics and strategy, neither one clued into anything but the big red thing in front of them that needed to be killed. I don't want to judge them for this, but I can't help but think that ... if I figured it out, why didn't they? They are both way out of my league in many aspects, but were blinded, as if by dust or sand or treasure's glitter.

    I thank the Lion for the gift of patience, and the ability to think clearly he has granted me, and hope that it continues to serve me as it has. "Clever Boy. " Somehow, I think that compliment is going to stick with me a while.

    Now, it's time to go see Ashena, and see how she's doing. I want to tell her about the adventure, my mishap, my discovery ... and yea, I want to show her the armor I got from Victoria after the treasure split, and how I designed it. Ardent approved, since I made them model it to the clothing she made for me, and now I wear it over that. Heh, the usual crew will give me no rest I am sure, for this truly looks like a hero's raiment. (Another new word. Hanging around Paladins can be informative! )

    Now to slowly work back up to strength, and seek out my next task. Aymon, I will talk to you soon._


  • With a sore wrist from making this third copy… Cecil places one of his reports into his journal for safekeeping, or some other more obscure reason.

    @bd63a48b78:

    _Report:

    I spoke to a few new faces around the gate today, one of them being this fella whose name I only learned after I arrested him, Inick. He's an elf, youngish looking for an elf, with black hair. Describes him in more detail

    We spoke a great deal about Narfell, and he even seemed interested in keeping watch at the gate, and asking questions about being a guard, so I took him on patrol at dawn. He did a fine job keeping himself out of too much trouble all through the ruins, but started getting erratic when we found gobs. Threw himself right into them.

    I jumped in, and wiped out everything around him, nearly clipping him while he was trying to use his swords as scissors on a gob, that fancy dual wielding business. He apologized, and said something about getting a little bloodlust, which I understand. Northern berserkers do the same thing.

    His apparently creeps on him or something.

    We killed some more gobs, and I didn't think anything of it at the time, but I remember him saying that it was "Fun to watch…" with a little bit of a funny look.

    Again, I thought nothing of it. One goblin's club nearly broke his arm, so I wasn't too worried about him losing it on me.

    We continued back, and made it all the way through the rest of the echoes, pigs, and an errant zombie, when he stopped, and stared at me like I was a talking steak. Then he lunged with those swords of his, so I backed off and told him to knock it off.

    He bounced a sword off my shield, so I used my knife, and clubbed him in the noggin with the hilt after punching him in the chest. He went down, and I backed off a bit more to let him get up, and ask him what the fark he was doing.

    He laughed, said he couldn't control himself, laughing again, and took another stab. Then he took a nap.

    I carried his ass back to town, and had Chea check him for magicks since her and Belia were at the gate. She found none, so I slapped him awake, and questioned him, finding out his name, though he claimed he followed no God. I mentioned jail, however, and he started crying out to Ehlonna, and sobbing.

    Apparently, he doesn't like the idea of jail.

    He's in there now, I put him in myself. He either needs to be fixed, kept in there, or watched constantly. He reminds me of that Sogar git, the priest of Garagos. Were it not me, but somebody smaller or easier to kill, he would have had his blood, and we'd have a dead person.

    At any rate, that's all I've got. Do with him what you will._


  • An entry begins here, and is clearly scrubbed over with the coal pencil, then wiped mostly clean, and written over again. The rest follows.

    _Well, so much for needing to walk off to calm myself. Albryanna followed me, making me feel at first like I was being some petulant child for walking off just by -being- there, but she did not say or act like any such thing was the case.

    I explained myself with little prompting, and I don't really know why. Perhaps it's something about her that I was smitten with when I first arrived, perhaps it's the very high regard I hold her in now. Regardless, I (The word AM is scribbled out) -was- unsure of myself after the incident with Rass at the gates.

    I should probably explain.

    I went on patrol with a bunch of the usual folks, and some faces that are new to me, and took my usual peek south of the lake to see if anything was stirring.

    We took a few shots at the nearby goblins, and were about to leave when Albryanna I think, joked about seeing something. When I said "Where" she said that there was nothing, teasingly, when the distinctive "Thrum" of a bow and the wet "Smack" of an arrow sinking into flesh was heard… right behind me.

    Ras looked surprisedly at the arrow in him, and wasted no time firing back at the bugbear who grinned tuskily at us from near a tree, before sprouting a nice suit of feathers of his own.

    We stood around kind of stunned for a moment, passed a few jokes about it, and basically waited to see what would happen next, which was of course, more arrows. I dashed forward to get in their faces, only to get an arrow in the shoulder, and I jogged back to pull it out so I could swing my axe properly, and waited that moment for them to take their eyes to the threat of our own archers, before coming back.

    One of them was sprouting feathers quicker than he could fire them by far, and the other was having trouble choosing his target, and seemed torn between shooting me as I rushed at him, and loosing an arrow at the archers harassing him. He picked me, and missed, which he obviously wasn't planning on, and looked torn yet again between whether to run, or take me on.

    Too long deciding, he took my shield to the face, right after an arrow hit his bellow, sinking deep. He went to his knees, bent over to pull out the arrow, and lost his head for the effort. It was like a formal execution, and gave me enough time to turn to strike the other one as I stood fully back up, but it was unnecessary. The Bugbird fell over, utterly full of arrows, glaring at me in his last moment.

    Jerk.

    I was out front when the backup came, though it wasn't very impressive. Apparently, even bugbears have grunt troops, runty Bugbears in comparison who swarmed out at us, and caught me in the middle of them, and Albryanna was at my back immediately, which of course ended up in a ring of dead around us. A few more warrior types followed, and in the calm after the carnage, we decided to fall back, since it seemed they were ready to move, and could be flanking us or trying to cut off our retreat to the town.

    The latter was right, as the broken statues south of Norwick bore witness to several sneaks ambushing us, and bleeding for their trouble, though I admit that time I sprung a few leaks myself, too.

    We made it the rest of the way back without incident, stood guard, and talked amongst ourselves while waiting for an attack that never came. What did come, however, was a deer that behaved most strangely. We had traps out in front of our line, and a deer that was pacing back and forth, glaring strangely. I'm no woodsman, but a deer that paces inches from a line of bloody warriors strikes me as peculiar.

    Then... it walked off, directly in a line to both traps that were set. It looked nothing short of deliberate, and my gut feeling was screaming that something was wrong, despite everybody else joking about it.

    I said to kill it, but Ras and Belia were near it, and nobody moved to act. I have seen possessed animals, vengeful animal spirits, and druids that could change themselves into animals or control them. I've even seen animals sent to the gate to explode. I wasn't about to take a chance. I shot the deer dead in a few shots, earning me an arrow in the thigh from Rasuil.

    The bastard SHOT me, and then got in my face, asking how I liked it.

    No questions why, and I suspect he didn't listen to my reasoning, either.

    I'm no woodsman. I'm no mage. I can't gather if something is magicked, or possessed, past watching what it does. What I do know, is that assault of a Norwick guard is a crime, and this isn't the first time Ras has gone off and shot someone he shouldn't be shooting, even in play like with Maria inside the gates. I almost got shot that time, too.

    Little shit like that, I could generally care less about. I refuse to pull a Loc, and go beating people up for minor infractions, or fining people without a warning. I won't be a bully.

    Where, however, did I cross the line that it's suddenly okay to shoot me over a disagreement, without any worry for reprisal? Granted, I wanted to hit him back, hard. Redcloak or No, I would have taken it off if necessary. Surely my caution wasn't reason to get shot, right?

    I didn't even raise the question of shooting a guard, since Albryanna didn't react, either. I just got in his face, and told him to do something about it if I was such a Malarite or criminal that I deserved an arrow.

    He did nothing, of course, which just pissed me off more. I'm honestly surprised I didn't lose my cool. Perhaps Ashena is rubbing off on me more than I thought, or I've really just gotten past the inability I used to have at controlling my anger. Who knows.

    At any rate, I told Albryanna everything I was feeling, and she explained that doing what I had been doing was working fine, and not to second guess myself so much, that kind of thing, but she didn't lecture. She answered a question or two, shared a story of her own... and now I'm sitting on the edge of this inn bed after a good night's sleep, and I'm not quite so angry anymore. In fact, I'm looking forward to the gate, today.

    He shoots me again, I'll fling an axe at his head, but there's no reason to be mad about somebody else losing their cool. I've got mine, and for now, that's good enough._


  • _Ardent was what gave it away.

    People are good at secrets. I am no spy, nor an information gatherer or any merit, really. If I see it, it happened. If I do not see it, I'm not somehow able to make sense of mysteries and intrigue like some others.

    Ardent's behavior was nothing hidden.

    She fell, apparently, not long ago. Perhaps even more than once. Since then, people at the gate and in Peltarch all have made mention of her seemingly frantic attempts to get back up to her former skill, feeling drained and, in her words, useless since she was struck down.

    Nobody mocks, but several seem concerned, that in her haste she will get hurt or end up harming another by insisting on going someplace too dangerous.

    I made mention of it at the south gate the other night, and was snapped at. She's never been cruel to me, yet she said something unkind, and I felt it best, perhaps, to simply go. I was told not to press the matter, so I didn't. I walked, and she spoke anyway… informing me that dying was one thing, and she didn't care, but losing Ashena was different.

    Ashena.

    I had never known.

    I left for Peltarch immediately.

    Ardent chased, concerned that I was going to be mean to accuse Ashena of hiding things from me, but that's not what was on my mind. We spoke on the boat, then on the docks for hours, and I finally let her know that I merely wished to bring her flowers, lots of them, and try to make her feel better, and let her know that I am not upset at having to find out through someone else.

    When it comes down to it, I get it. I do. It's probably similar to the way I won't let on how badly injured I am, sometimes, or that I can feel poison coursing through my blood, daring me to stop moving so I can sleep the longest sleep, instead of fighting it.

    I get it, but I would rather know.

    It could have been awkward to bring up, though. "Hey how are you?" "Oh fine, back to life after being slain by horrible undead. You? "

    Certainly not up to our usual standards for conversation, I am sure.

    I'm going to try and talk to her about it, and then it's back to Norwick once I drop of these flowers. Ardent went all over Narfell with me trying to find more roses, and they were indeed hard to find, as we came across none. These Sakura blossoms are perfect though, along with more forget-me-nots.

    Once I drop them off at the temple, I can go find a way to get this other little surprise delivered to Ardent. She's too clever by far to have risked getting her something while she's near, so I'll drop it off at the barracks with her name on it, so it's at least a surprise.

    Hope she likes it._


  • _It's been an interesting, busy couple of days. I've never been the best at keeping track of time, so I'll try to stay on topic but, I won't hold myself to much.

    Patrols have been fairly regular, at least until my most recent where we stumbled upon two score hobgoblins, and a couple of Umberhulks, just one treeline away from the lake! We slayed them quickly, but it did come as a bit of a surprise.

    Also, speaking of hulks, I had a trip down to the depths of the Underdark where those critters like to hang out, too. The Fishmen down there were not much of a challenge, and we defeated the hulks handily. We even managed to retreat before things went poorly, too. Perhaps there's hope for these trips, yet.

    Two days ago, I was able to spend the day with her, once more. My Ashena, that is. I keep forgetting I'm writing this for someone else, after a fashion, in case I don't make it back from something. Or perhaps for my children someday, should I have any? I don't know yet, but I guess that's kind of the point, isn't it?

    She is doing well, still. We fought gnolls together with a group, and I was getting beat on pretty soundly, as was Rath upon his horse, but we made it through big groups of them anyway, one after another.

    It wasn't until we hit one of the big mother ones that we nearly lost someone. Of all people, it was Ashena. I saw the scythe miss me, and I heard a cry and a thump. I had only a moment to look down, and I saw Ashena, her eyes unfocused and her body unmoving. I knew if I leaned down to help though, I would be dead.

    I'm not much of a match for one of those creatures, but I leapt at it anyway, amidst the flashing blades and flying arrows of my companions, and landed the hit I needed. The bitch took my axe in the neck, looked at me for a moment, surprised, and fell over dead. Ashena was already getting to her feet, thanks to somebody's healing.

    Thank the Lion, she was fine once healed, though Rath made my stomach turn when he said he saw her in two pieces. Whether or not he jested, I still don't know. It was hard to focus on the way back, but all was better once we were again outside. She kept up that bright smile the whole time, too.

    Now I feel I am once again caught up enough to write down my actual thoughts on something. I will read this over later, I think, and try to make better sense of things so I don't confuse myself. Another page, though. I think I heard something outside the gate._


  • _I recieved a letter today, the first I've ever gotten.

    Val let me know that it was time. We've found a ship, and they'll sail when we're ready. We're going to find the help that bill needs, and aid that brave young man who has suffered due to a mistake that -I- let happen. The next time someone speaks such foolishness at me, they'll end up with a boot in the arse, or in jail, to think about things in quiet contemplation.

    For a year.

    Things are still quiet, and I've not seen Ashena for a couple of days, which always makes me start turning my head at the slightest sound of an armored person, or a feminine laugh. She'll show up, or I'll run across her in Peltarch soon, I am certain. Until then, it's back to work. The gates will surely be under assault soon, or someone will need arresting, or … I don't know, some other way for me to be useful.

    Aside from playing tour guide lately, I'm feeling a little bit less useful than usual lately. I'm sure i'll feel better once I'm on the boat, and helping Bill._


  • _It's quiet at the gates again, after another trip to the hold, this time with Rain and some others. It went very well. Assassins, archers, mages, they all fell before us easily, some even running in terror when they saw Rain and I descend at the front upon them like a storm of steel. The only problem I ran into was when we leaped into that cave full of spiders, and both Rain and I were both frozen in place.

    If there's ONE thing I hate… it's being kept from a fight by magic.

    If there's -two- things I hate... It's Malar panthers.

    Rasuil and I were attacked by them in the graveyard recently, and though we slew them, I got chewed up pretty badly, we slew them, and continued on my patrol... which also had to be cut short. I was simply not in good enough shape to continue, which is frustrating.

    Somehow, I need to find a way to gain a large amount of gold to get some more suitable armor made for me, or go on more treasure hunts, and hopefully come across some.

    Speaking of armor, Ashena jokes about looking like Shannon now, but I think she looks wonderful in her newly colored armor. She truly does look every inch the person she is, a knight and a Paladin. One of Torm's faithful, and an example to those around her. I keep getting comments at the gate that people see me like that, so I try to live up to it.

    Some fairly new folks came to Norwick, so I took them along with some more folks on a tour and patrol around the lake. Perhaps if they stick around, they'll live a bit longer since they know what to expect. A knight would do that, I think. Perhaps.

    Dawn is peeking in the windows already, and I've already been awake for an hour. I think I'll have some steak and an ale at the gate, and see who is up to greet the morning._


  • _Strange things.

    In the past three days, I have had the following things happen.

    I was given a Valkurian Captain sword, a greatsword to be exact, by Ardent. She is grateful for me 'saving' her more than words can apparently relay… so she gets me things. Granted, I don't mind this at all, but I still feel kind of guilty accepting gifts, especially for something I would have done anyway. I told her so, but she would have none of it. That's Ardent for ya. Hell of a gal.

    I had something called a Krenshar show up at the south gate... making little Rawring noises. The woodsy folks said don't kill it, so I tries to shoo it off instead, and it Rawred at me. Well, I rawred back, which made it look at me, blink, then roll over on it's back with all four feet in the air.

    Ras said to pet it.

    I did.

    It was soft!

    I don't know what I was expecting. For a creature with an inside-out looking face, and big sharp fangs, and you know, being a monster, it was very cute and friendly. Apparently we bonded, it even nuzzled my face with it's own, before leaving.

    Still not sure how I feel about that bit, it -was- pretty strange looking. At least, I would tell Ras that. I actually loved every minute of it. I wonder if that's what being a woodsman is like?

    The Alchemist returned, and spoke to me about Norwick, wanting to know when we were gonna get Fendon, and seemed upset that we seemed to be flagging.

    Apparently, the bugbears trying to wipe us out and wear us for hats was more along the lines of a "Personal Problem" to him ... until it was pointed out that if they do succeed, POOF. No more allies for the Alchemist.

    He left me saying that we shall have allies against any threat, until the time comes when we actually face Fendon. Ok, that's not too bad, we should probably get someone to make us a plan.

    Ashena also won second place in a tournament! She won some throwing knives and some wine... which was apparently magical.

    We're now taking picnics in full armor.

    I think we were also caught outside the Norwick gate... as we had an audience when I opened my eyes. Well... it's not all bad. I don't mind that much at all, actually. I hope she's not too embarassed.

    We just cleared out the goblin hold, and I think I've written enough for now. Perhaps I'll head to Peltarch, and see if Ashena is about yet._


  • _Now I remember why I don't do Fight Nights. Sore all over!

    Or maybe it was the stabbings Marty gave me… other Marty, that is.

    The past week has been a mess. We almost got Marty, and as I'm about to return to my post at the gates, I'm stuck wondering what I could have done differently to get her for good. Poor Senator Marty was nearly attacked within the gates, and I had to pull some folks away from her, who were eager for a little payback.

    Perhaps she should stay North for a bit.

    Speaking of North... it has been some many moons since I heard from the Lion. There was a time a couple years ago that I had dreams of him, and even fought beside him after waking. Still the little goblin rune glows on my axe, but no others have joined it.

    Is my quest complete?

    I have seen many strange and new things here, and realize that I may not grow in skill if I do not try to, so I shall try to seek new skills and experiences. Perhaps I should prepare myself like I did that first time, at my trials. I will spirit walk to where the Lion may await, and see what task he has for me. I hope to find him.

    I do not want to be done. I feel there is more out there for me. I know it._


  • _Fight night.

    At least it was not "War with Bugbears" night this time… but man am I bad at fight night games. First round disqualification every time. Perhaps I just don't put enough effort into it when my life isn't on the line? Who knows... but things went back to 'normal' afterwards.

    Marty, -other- Marty that is, apparently attacked people near the inn, and we spent a while searching for her, with no luck. She's uncannily fast. All the time. I don't get it... but I nearly did get -her- with some help at the gates. Almost.

    Then the demons. So many demons. Hordes of dretches, quasits, and the like bombarded us, and we killed them all, along with these winged horror things. What a mess.

    The the Vrock.

    Ashena said something about them, but I didn't get to know what it was until -after- I killed it. Ashena would be proud, I think.

    Ashena. I am proud of -her-. She was knighted, and I got to be there in the outfit Ardent helped me make. She loved it, and the cermony itself was quite the thing to behold.

    She had a meeting, afterwards, with the other members of her order, and I waited downstairs for her. Her brother had made comment about needing to speak to me, and needing to remember everything about myself that I could, because he would be interviewing me. An interview, about marrying his sister. Ashena.

    I had not even asked her such!

    I admit, I sat and fretted for a while. What was I supposed to do? Luckily, Ama'Bael (I think I got that right, elven names are tricky!) came by, and talked to me for a bit. Her Goddess, Hanali, has surely blessed her. She spoke to me, let me borrow a necklace, and gave me some advice... which led me to take Ashena dancing after she came down, in the Amethyst Festhall.

    It was perfect. Everything was. I can't even write it all down just yet, since I should get back to the gates, but it was so perfect, the musicians even seemed impressed!

    Now to write my reports, and get back to work._


  • _I wrote my story, now I have to add more. I think.

    My wrist is oddly tired. Would an axe not tire it more? Writing is a chore, but the words of Val and others make me think. Mostly about Ashena, and my friends.

    Many die. Some don't return. Bugbears threaten to overrun my home, and I will leave little behind. Maybe this will count as -something-. One of the Hunters back home carried his father's spear, who got it from his father, and his father before him. They are remembered. I think I would like to be remembered, should I fall and the Black Lion lead me to another place away from here.

    For now, I will think on life instead, I think.

    Walking through Jiyyd made me think. Will Norwick look like that from the battles against the Bugbears? If they are going to win, and take it, will we burn it behind us?

    I think I will die if they take the town. Not by choice. I am much more useful alive. Trying to get my friends, even the strangers I don't know, to follow orders and retreat when the fight is lost though, will probably kill me. I have to try though, right?

    I still remembering hearing human and elf screams louder than the falling bugbears, when we lost all three gates that day. They were louder than my own yelling to retreat apparently, because few if any, heeded me. No, rather than move, they watched the greatest among them fall.

    Maythor fell, and I have no seen him since. I hope he returned, but I haven't been told.

    It took that, for people to realize we were overmatched.

    I'm no genius, but I at least know when to run. Do I need shiny armor and a magic sword to get people to follow me? If so, I'm halfway there. Will it help?

    The sun is going down, and it's getting hard to read what I write. Back to Norwick. If someone finds this on my body, please let those who knew me not to mourn, but to fight harder for me, and bleed less than me. The Black Lion will watch over them in my place._


  • Wind whipped at his hair, and threatened to blow the pages right out of the book he had carried for a few days, already bloodstained and a little battered, and then calmed, letting him lay in the grass between those two great statues looking out over what was left of Jiyyd.

    Albryanna had already went back to Norwick, back "home," he reminded himself, and he had stayed to rest up after the trek through the destroyed city, and the undead-filled lands beyond. It was then that he finally decided to put that coal-pencil to paper, and nodded to himself remembering what someone has said. Something about leaving something behind for others.

    People wanted to hear his story, and he had shared it with but one, his Ashena. Perhaps the telling would make it easier to remember, and not so heavy on his heart? Surely a page was a place to start.

    Was it wise to try to put such a long story to page when he wasn't really that good at writing yet? Hah, leave wise to the Druids and Priests. He was -smart-, and surely the smart thing to do was to record it. Val would approve too, he figured.

    The sound of the coal pencil and the occasional muffled swear joined the sound of the wind, and the silence of the statues atop Heroes Bluff for an afternoon, and the following was written.

    _"The time has come. Follow me Longarrow."

    The young barbarian did as he was told, the freshly inked tattoos still shiny on his flesh. He hardly bled from them, and for that he was proud of himself.
    On each arm, artistically simple designs of several different animals chased one another in a circle about his bicep. Predominant above all other figures, the darkest inked, the most defined lines used, is a Black Lion.

    Black Lion, Black Raven, Blue Bear, Elk, Gray Wolf, Great worm, Griffon, Red Tiger, Sky Pony, Tree Ghost, and Thunderbeast. All in a circle about his bicep.

    "Remember your spirit. Remember it's virtues, and it's vices, it's weaknesses. For they are yours. Feed the virtues, and cull the vices like weaklings from your herd! The time to meet your spirit awaits you. This is your trial young one, go forth, and become a man! "

    The tribe-leader, the chief, had spoken, and as he stepped out of the tent, the village raised a cheer for him, a chanting, foot-stomping cheer that turned rhythmic. He acknowledged them with a savage war-cry, and lifted high his mighty bow and axe, these would be the weapons of his trial, and his Manhood.

    Thus far, he had been named Longarrow. He was tall at birth, and standing long before most children of his age. His arms grew long before the rest of him caught up in his pre-teen years, and he could not use the bows the other children used, as the arrows were pulled past the bow itself when he drew. Thus, the name Longarrow was given as a childhood name.

    He sought to become an adult now… to add a first name to his fullname, to find the true name he would grow into. This was the day of his test, and hopefully, his ascent to manhood. The crowd quieted in a hush, and the Elder stepped past Longarrow, walking a number of paces and stopping before him.

    "Of the turns of the seasons have passed, so have you grown among your tribe to be a fine hunter. You will prove your worth as such now, and become more. You must become a warrior, and a protector of your people. A Lion's virtues are strength, cunning, and guarding one's family! Their weakness is their pride, their impatience. They are prone to fighting each other for power and position, like children over a toy. "

    "You must overcome this if you are to become a man. Face your trials, and defeat them... or seek elsewhere outside this tribe to become a man."

    Those words struck Longarrow with a pang of self-doubt. If he did fail... that proclamation was that he would be exiled. If, over the course of his journeys abroad he could gather proof that he had overcome his obstacles, he could return, and be accepted once more. If he could not prove it, the village would choose a guardian, tasked to drive the intruder out. The failure. The child without a home. Only men were allowed to return to the tribe once they leave, else they have nothing to provide, and as such are no good to anyone.

    Shaking his head to clear the thought seemed to work, and he lifted his chin and nodded. "Honored Elder, I will return to you a man."

    With that, he left the circle of tribesmen and women, and headed up the winding path through the hills, to the rock that jutted from the earth like a finger proclaiming that a certain spot of sky belonged to it, and none may lay claim lest they be flicked back to the ground should they try to scale it. The significance was not lost on the young man with the brown hair, and brown eyes to match.

    Illuskan are a hearty people, and unbothered by the cold for the most part, Longarrow being no exception. The winds bit hard, but his heavy leathers and furs kept it from bothering him as he ascended. Night had since fallen, and he had until the moon reached it's highest point to walk. When the moon reached it's Zenith, a full moon as was custom for the rites of adulthood, then he would sleep, and the dreams would come and tell him what he faced.

    Such occurred without incident, much to his relief, and he settled down to sleep among the furs he wore, used as a blanket, one above and one below so the ground did not leech his heat as he slept, nor the winds. Thoughtfully as he should, he pondered his quest as he chewed the plant the elder gave him, the plant the shamans chewed to speak to spirits... and he waited.

    He did not know how long he waited, and in fact did not realize he was asleep, until he looked down from his seated position to see his sleeping form beneath him. "Oh... I did it?" he queried himself, or perhaps the moon as he looked up just after saying it. The moon now was blood red, and had been white when he went to sleep. Surely, he was not in the same place as his body now... He repeated what he had been told to say.

    "Great Spirits, I beseech you. I come seeking the path to manhood, to be tested and found worthy! Come to me, Black Lion spirit! "

    He waited, and waited. The winds whipped about his new ghostly form, and he felt them to his soul, but no sound came. No images appeared. Surely he had been heard? 'Impatience' The elder had spoken of it, to be overcome. "I wait on you, Great Spirit, not the other way around. I shall be here when you are ready. " he announced, and laid down beside his body to wait, finding a surprisingly soft cushion when he laid his head down.

    The black paw his head rested on was connected to a terrible beast, a black lion that dwarfed even his generous size easily. He rose, and bowed before it. "I come to learn, great spirit, and be tested! "

    The creature seemed to examine him, and spoke in a voice that was the thunder of the storm, and the winds across the plains all at once.
    "You have overcome your greed for time. This, was your hardest to learn, was it not?" Longarrow said that it was indeed, and the Lion nodded his great shaggy head. "Now you will face a foe. One that cannot be beaten by an act of Will, but of great strength, and courage alone. Ready yourself!"

    The young man did so, even as a Red Panther moved from behind a stone a merely thirty yards away from him. He moved to engage it... and found himself on his back, laying down. It took him a full moment to realize he was back in his body, and that moment was nearly too much. The panther had leaped already, and was about to bear down on him from the air, claws raking the air in preparation to rend flesh as the tail spun to counterbalance his leap.

    Longarrow did not bother getting up thankfully... it would have wasted time and put him closer to the beast. No, instead he merely rolled across his bow, picking it up as he rose, the panther just touching down and already about to leap again. An arrow sat ready against the string, and at the quick pull back and release, a soft "Thrum" vibrated against the air, followed by a soft thud and a furious scream of rage!

    The bow clattered to the ground a moment later, it's arrow jutting from the breast of the great cat before the Illuskan youth... and it was only then that he realized the markings on the animal. This was a Malar panther... Malar, who was responsible for destroying the Blue Bear Tribe. Malar, who had taken from Uthgar as others had, but in a more heinous fashion, and this was his opponent.

    Another scream picked up where the panther's had died off, a human scream of challenge and rage as his blood boiled. He threw himself headlong at the cat, and it had little time to tense and spring before the man was upon it. It had barely leaped by the time they crashed together, and left it's belly open for the axe that rent it.

    Blood spattered the rocks as two bodies collided with them, and rolled a ways, tumbling, biting, thrashing, screaming, bleeding, dying. It had been a foolish move on the boy's part, but paid off well. The movement slowed, and one figure sprang away from the other. The young man was upright, though stooped, the claws had done a grisly work on him.

    The panther was mortally wounded, and so badly that it could not rise, lest it drag it's entrails. It was prepared for it's death, and it's eyes shone challenge at the young to finish it off. A smart man would have used an arrow. A man willing to put away his pride would have done the efficient thing, and done the cat a service from a safe distance, and lived to fight another day.

    This man-to-be was neither at this moment, bolstered by the Spirit's recognition of his previous victory over himself. His pride was his downfall now.. he stepped in with his axe for the final blow, and took the paw to the legs without warning, and without being able to adjust himself. He fell heavily upon the cat, who did it's best to latch teeth into the fellow, it's entrails glistening as they were pushed out further from the exertion. It didn't care at this point, only the end was real, only taking this foolish boy with it was good enough. And take it with him it did... as they rolled over once... twice... and over the edge of the rock.

    ... some time later ...

    Longarrow awoke to smoke in his face... pungent smoke that stung the eyes, and made them water. He opened them fully and blinked several times, with them finally focusing on the face of his elder. They went past him to see the bloody streak he and his opponent had made on the side of the sharp rocky descent, the gutted cat still partially on the slope while he, was lucky enough to have rolled further, and away from the thrashing creature until it bled itself out trying to reach him.

    "You have slain your foe, and bested your impatience, young one. "

    The elder let the words hang.. and did not follow with the customary congratulations of becoming an adult. No... he instead turned away and pointed. South... southward, black tracks seemed burned into the rock past the scene of the battle, and endlessly into the distance.

    "Your spirit came and led me to you, that you might live through your injuries... and then he walked off. It seems you're not quite donw, Longarrow... you did not pass your test. "

    The world spun, and while unconsciousness threatened to return with haste, the young man bit his lip and fought through it. "I must follow the tracks, then?" he asked hesitantly, gazing over them.

    "You know it to be true. You're luckier than most, and have a direction to go... but you'd best be headed that way. Spirit tracks do not last long..." and sure enough, even as they watched, the ones closest began to vanish.

    "I wish you strength young one. Return a man..."

    Those were the last words of his tribesmen he had heard, as he began walking. He was given a pack with food and water at the beginning, in case he failed, and he had it now, though his bow had broken and his axe been lost somewhere along the fall. He did not stop to search.

    ... A long walk later, many moons worth ...

    A greatsword graced the back of the young fellow who walked into Peltarch that day, from the ship he had boarded. The black tracks had led south into the sea, and he inquired until someone told him what lay directly south. Narfell... There was a single black track on the dock he stepped onto, and then no more to be found as he looked around. It appeared his test would begin here. Guard-work for caravans had got him this far, and a weapon, but would it be enough to become a man, and return to his tribe as such? Only time would tell, and it seemed he had quite a lot of that now while he searched. He had his weapon, his worn out boots, and a first name to suit him while he did so... Cecil.

    Cecil Longarrow, barbarian, wanderer, and child to his tribe, a new citizen of Peltarch, and another pawn in the games played upon the prime that centered on these lands. Would he complete his task? Would he live to see it even? Time would have to tell._