3. "Finding a Balance of sorts" - A journal of Leena

"Finding a Balance of sorts" - A journal of Leena


  • _Dear journal, diary, or whoever is reading this. Whatever or whoever I'm writing to, I apologize for not having written lately. There's simply been too much going on, and in my few moments of solitude, even writing feels like I'm not alone, when I need to be.

    You know, to collect my thoughts. Be quiet and peaceful. Not because I need to get away from anyone in particular or anything, that's just silly.

    I'm writing now, because of death. And undeath.

    For me, there's almost nothing scarier than seeing one of my friends die. I've done it once, and that felt like enough for me … and I'd SAY I did it twice ... but it didn't quite take.

    What got me thinking about it was a jaunt into the Peltarch Crypts thanks to the sanitation worker tipping us off that something was up. We got to a door where the noise was coming from, and found some adventuring types including Mint ... who immediately scarpered, and left her other companions behind. One of whom was dragged back into the doorway by ... something.

    We went in, me, Ros, and Artemis, to find a few disturbed sarcophagi, some dead Duergar, and Whisper with the two other adventurers whose name I can't remember. One decided to call me "Woman" and be a general jackass for most of the trip.

    I don't care for him one bit.

    Long story short, angry ghost cursed us, something sketchy seemed to be going on, we fought a mummy lord (Immediately turned to stone by the caster guy), a powerful ghost, a lesser skeleton, and a greater skeleton of some sort. I was able to hold my own against each, but the swordsman of the sketchy adventurer due left behind by Mint and joined by whisper, was cut down.

    Hard.

    I couldn't even stop to TRY to help him, as right after we took down the skel, the ghost had to be re-killed.

    And then, he groaned. The dead guy got up, and tried to get away from us ... and since it didn't look like he was raised by the Gods... any that I know of anyway ... I checked on him with a heal spell.

    It didn't work.

    He was undead.

    He reacted super badly to my attempts to test his affliction further, and attacked me, so I kicked his ass. There was much argument about this from his pal, but I didn't know the cause of him being brought back like that, so I put him down, tied him up ... and while we were talking, Ros died.

    On the spot.

    Cough cough... death style.

    Arty teleported us to a temple and safety, where we were de-cursed ... but after she cast a spell on the now undead Ros and that guy (Yes, she came back the same way), she made me kill them both. In the middle of a temple. With my own sword.

    Killing Ros sucked.

    At any rate, we're all fine now, but it reminded me. We fought Gesundheit again a few weeks prior, and ... well, he wasn't there actually, we fought one of the sources of his power. A Djinni. He could have, of course, beat our asses handily, but he fought us by summoning dispel happy minions instead, who were also very handy with ice storms.

    In moments ... Ros and Artemis were dead. I only lasted a moment longer, before I too, fell.

    I felt the blackness settle over me, heard my heartbeat no more, closed my eyes ... and then opened them again with a gasp and no small amount of surprise.

    Mielikki had picked me up, put me back on my feet, and turned me loose. And I fought. I cast every spell I knew, taking special pleasure in invoking Talos to strike down a whole handful of his pals at once. The noise was deafening. There I was, after he had decided that he would fight us after all, but his physical form versus ours, none of this magic, and I was out of spells. Out of tricks. Turning into a dire tiger helped take him down, so we won! Except, he was kind of a dick, and our options sucked.

    Long story short, we tricked him into bringing our friends back by threatening to use our "Wish" for beating him to make him undo himself ... and he's presumably off to kick Gesundheit's ass now.

    Hopefully.

    That feeling though, of coming back? It makes me feel like there's something bigger I'm needed for, than what I'm doing now.

    It's time to get to work._


  • _Well, the skulking about in Oscura didn't turn up much… Except the best damned restaurant menu in all of Narfell!! I have a full food pack again, and this time it's not all bats, rats, and carameled mice! Mmmmm, Rothe.

    The glen has been mostly quiet, save for my own comings and goings, with even Ronan being in and out and busy. I'm hoping he's able to make some time to talk, soon. I didn't get to discuss all the details with him, yet!

    Fadia made an appearance, too. When showing Nate the glen, she arrived, and storytime began, where I learned something interesting. Our stone... Was shaped by Fadia herself! Talk about feeling overshadowed. I think...I need to create something. Leave behind a legacy.

    I think I have just the plan for it, too._


  • _Much has happened since last I wrote, though a dozen times, I tried to write again.

    To summarize, so I do not forget … and these are far from in the right order;

    Viola Bravickus almost met a splattery fate thanks to Gustaav Dae and his violin, which nearly made her step from the college's rooftop

    We fought an avatar of some lich fellow after finding something he didn't want us to find

    We watched half of the force of Peltarch's Defenders get taken over by strange circuitry and living wires, and are currently hunting for Talbot

    I led an expedition out from the glen, to a small island with a Druidess named Fiona, who Ronan Addams was concerned for. We saved the island, but didn't manage to save the magical trees from harm ... and it turns out the attack was masterminded by a gnome named Gesundheit. He's a twat. I also saw my first rust monster. It ate Nathen's sword.

    He's almost getting less whiny?

    Met with a dwarf who experiments on undead, rather than creating them. We made a bargain for some kind of weapon to help me fight the undead, hopefully.

    I spent ... a lot of time with Artemis. And it's exactly what I want. I have a good feeling about this. That being said, why do I still feel so hesitant and scared?

    I got a set of Vanoogle's pipes!

    Isolde wrote books about the Beeble mysteries and subsequent rescue mission.

    Oh, it looks like Ros is up! I think we're going to go skulk about some, now ... Yay!_


  • _Sometimes, the most tame adventure can take the strangest of turns. Like today, when we were exploring the sandy caves below the lizard man lair.

    We decided to go through there and see about obtaining some diamond powder for my stone skin spell, despite feeling kind of bad about it, with Kaitlyn talking about some truce her Father orchestrated looking ago. She also won't go picking fights with sentient creatures. While I feel that's noble, I can't be her.

    I'm guessing the truce also failed long before my time, as I've been at the Peltarch wall and helped repel attacks from the lizard men.

    At any rate, we fought our way through, only to find ourselves stuck in a dead magic zone.

    It's… Unlike anything I've ever felt. It's a terrible feeling, and it turns out that there's a special tree that can do this, called a Sussir tree. After fighting off animated statues, and freaking Basilisks!!! , We came across the tree. Dire warnings about forbidden knowledge, magical traps that had to be disabled with magic IN a wild magic zone... It turns out the tree was likely translated from the underdark to combat those effects.

    We struggled our way past trap and enemy, spell and sinkhole, to come across two sarcophagi and a phylactery, after getting to raid a treasure room of sorts. There was an argument about going out trying to defeat a menace before it ever had a chance to show itself, but we were spell spent and weary, and may not have been able to take down the foe.

    We moved on with our prizes, some of which I will not write down since they're personal or need no mention, and I managed to snag not only some Sussir wood, but a gem that is also spell resistant. I'm very excited to go searching for some other things to try to make new armor out of.

    I mean, I've come to terms with the fact that I'm going to have to be up front. I may as well make the most of it!_


  • _There's something to be said for having a shield. If you have a shield, you can fight from behind it. It can save you from taking blows that might otherwise hit home, or outright strike you down. It can deflect pressure from you, allowing you to slip to the side and deal some damage. It can even absorb the brunt of an impact, and take damage itself, instead of you.

    Now I know what these inanimate objects, and people who get used as one, feel like. Before I continue, reader, whoever you may be, don't get me wrong. I willingly haul myself to the front of a line when I need to. The bow collects dust in my pack after that, since it's hard to skip forward to fill a role where you're needed, and then fall right back as if you won't be needed up there again, despite having needed to go up there in the first place. I even volunteer to go on adventures with folks whose strengths are -not- being frontline fighters. Like, for this example, Roslyn and Ginger.

    We decided, after much deliberation on where to go and adventure, to head off to the orcs, and bother them. We cleared out the cave to the Northwest, first, before heading further west, to go up the mountains, past the wolves, into the caves, and to grandmother's house we go. The first cave was simple. I hoarded my magic, and simply took my sister's coral and driftwood hammer to them instead, mashing them left and right. This thing … is perfect. I've felled a gnoll in a single hit!

    Those weaker orcs died even more easily. It was amazing. Though of course, it was only a precursor to the real challenge, which was, of course, heading up the mountain further. Winter Wolves proved less of a threat than one would expect, since we were all prepared for cold, and the hammer-orcs, which I used to fear greatly, fell with no spectacular effort. With two able scouts, I knew what situations I was walking into before I showed my face, and surprise barely had time to register on my enemy's faces before their faces still for the last time.

    We searched for prisoners, we scoured for treasures, we hunted for signs of anything amiss, and we fought. And by we fought ... at this point what I really mean is "I swung at things to get them to overreach and try to hit me, then Ros and Ginger turned them into sad bloody porcupines. I hope I never piss the two of them off.

    We killed hundreds of orcs, just us three. The two hin joked about training a whole army of archers in their tactics. The thought makes me shudder. Imagine a whole field creeping along, concealed in tall grass, their forms would just look like the grass moving, being so small, before a thousand arrows you never saw coming, came streaking your way.

    They're the perfect shadows to me. I have an orange glow about me these days from Alvaniel's ring, for which I owe her an enchantment, and I wear my father's old armor, long forgotten in an unused chest, still dyed in the blak and blue of the legion when I found it. It's green and brown now, and I take no efforts to hide. I have my displacerbeast armor for that, after all ...

    We crushed our opposition on the way there, and had some trouble on the way back, but made it through nonetheless, and afterward ... I felt ... more capable. More powerful. Like I learned an important lesson, something about who I am.

    I feel strong, and I think the Gods have blessed me yet again. I need to go try it out, but I think I've gained some knowledge the last time I slept.

    My dream was that I was outnumbered by gnolls, cackling demon gnolls, like that recent mining trip I organized for Gnarl, and they had me backed into a small valley, and as a last ditch effort, I wished for a storm to take them with me ... and fire rained down, burning all but me.

    I awoke feeling strong, not scared. I'm more alive than I've ever been. I feel, however ... that my role is gradually changing. I'm needed up front more, me and Fayt both, despite my preference for bow and spell. I think I'm going to need to do some research, and see if anybody has ever made Ironwood Fullplate ..._


  • _Gods above, what a day.

    I've avoided writing about the Beeble situation just yet, mostly to try to keep it out of my mind so I don't accidentally go venturing into the dreamscape while I sleep, and end up there again. Especially not alone…

    From confronting a nightmare about Dad leaving to get away from me, and other silliness, to watching my friends fight far more real names with their own particular apparitions, the horrid nightmare creatures we had to fight seem almost tame by comparison.

    Almost.

    Through it all, there was something comforting. Everything Dad taught me, everything in his journals, it all helped. I got to exercise the number one rule of fighting as a Druid. Druids Cheat.

    I bent the dreamscape we were in around us, and guided us through where I could, and fought like hell every time we found battle... And until the very end, it did not seem like enough. Especially when we watched what had happened to Beeble... Poor Beeble.

    I tried to change it. I really did. I felt something move, give... Just a little! I screamed myself hoarse, and tried to bend my way through not just a dream, but a memory... And my very -mind- still hurts from it. I would say it was for nothing, as we returned without him, but I think that in another world, another space beside ours, he's OK.

    I really hope that somewhere, he's OK...

    Now to write about the last day or so..._


  • _I'm torn up, and don't know what to do.

    On one hand, I'm going to go revisit an enemy who thinks I'm it's friend, to try to free someone I don't know from it's clutches, after diving directly into it's nigh inescapable prison, with the help of a NECROMANCER, who I ALSO don't know, on the words of a bard I barely know, a sneak whom I know a bit, and a Dryad that I've had two or three entire conversations with.

    I've got no stake in this fight, personally.

    I've got no winning card up my sleeve.

    I've got every reason NOT to go, due to the nature of who is involved, and having a pretty good idea of what we're going up against, some kind of mutated, tampered with, well fed dream vestige with some, dare I say it, vestige of a personality.

    I KNOW better.

    I'm under prepared… I haven't enchanted my armor, my sword, though useful against a fleshy target of hobgoblin strength of less, probably won't do me much good against these undead and dream-fey we're likely to face, and there's hardly an arrow in the world that'll help me either, given that my fireball ones will also hurt my allies.

    Tactics wise, I know my greatest strength is my ability to walk in dreams as if they are the real world, and augment my own reality , and that of those near me, but this thing LIVES (If you can call it that) in the dream plane. How the fark are we actually planning on competing with this?

    It makes sense now, and I feel bad for being dismissive of Isolde and Nate. I think I understand their pixie parade thing now. They're going to try to happy the creature to death or distraction ... I fear.

    If that's their plan, with the goofy outfits, and the sparkly glitter wands, then I'll play along, and I'll be silly and goofy and happy, and rescue this Aesso the Amazing for her pals the tree-lady and the ogre farking necromancer ... but I'll do it like Ros says. Shake their hand with my right, and have a Rock in my left. Except my Rock is going to be dispelling magic and lightning and fire and wrath.

    Oh ... and I'm bringing a surprise, too.

    If my sword won't bite ... I'll bring something that will.

    If you're reading this because you found my corpse, in this world or that of dreams, tell my sister that I'm sorry for not getting to help raise Asha, and that I'll see her and Mom and Dad again somehow, some way, even if I have to do it through dreams.

    Time to go scrounge up as many cheating supplies as I can. Goodbyes suck, so I'm aiming for the win, here.

    I just wish I could trust that everyone's head is in this as much as their hearts... But!

    On the other hand... It's cage is weakening. If we don't close it, untold numbers of people could suffer, or be devoured themselves. That being said, I guess I do have stake in this fight. I consider myself a "good guy", but if a Priest or Paladin were to label me, I might fall more in the middle by their scale.

    Still.

    I can't let this go. I can't just let it happen without doing what I can about it. If nothing else, I have the excuse that this, too, is a matter of the Balance. Between the realm of dreams, and the realm of the woken Prime.

    Shit...I wonder what kind of state Avalon is in...._


  • _I need to be better about taking notes.

    So much has happened, and I've spent more time and gold running about getting into trouble than I have sitting down and collecting my thoughts. And trouble has been my middle name!

    I met a fellow whom I suspect was the former knight that's being looked for, just by his sort of noble but soldiery demeanor, and willingness to help an outnumbered stranger… But speaking of others...

    There are a few distinct forms of flattery that I'm susceptible to. One of which is respect for me as one would respect a truly dangerous foe. I'm honestly not that scary. Sure i can cast a while lot of lightning if I'm prepared for it, or set you on fire, and watch you burn while it lasts a seemingly impossible amount of time... And that's not even considering the wrapping vines, choking clouds of air, the ground greasing and becoming treacherous, all while I dance about in it unharmed. . . I mean sure, that can seem scary, but then you go out on a Bugbear hunt with my sister...

    Bugbears turn on one another, then get destroyed from within and without, quickly and without mercy, at a furious pace that would have left me breathless from the sheer exertion... Had it not happened in a matter of moments.

    But hey, catching up with her was nice, and better yet, she's proud of me. I'm smiling just thinking about it. Her baby girl Asha is apparently doing well, as are her and Jonni in the Witch and Seer. I'm proud of her right back, frankly. Despite Dad's shaky example of partnerships early in his life, at least one of us seems to have gotten it right.

    As for me... Well apparently I talk about Artemis a lot apparently. She asked if I was in love with him, and I remember sputtering something before telling her the truth. I don't know! It's not a "no," but I don't know what it is yet. Time will tell.

    After getting jumped by two vamps that I could hardly hurt, I've slightly adjusted my spell-plan, so hopefully next time will go better. . .

    Now then. The thoughts. Apparently, the Bloodspiders are in open war with the vampires. The self proclaimed Duke of The Docks vampire said that the Bloodspiders are no longer welcome there, under penalty of death. A shadowy character that I believe from various notes and stories to be the once-believed-dead Vloss Orbb, is called Master by said Bloodspiders, and has declared war on the vampires as well. Leena Barackivus (did I spell that right?) It's a Bloodspider Captain apparently, and I got her arrested, causing her sister to try to bargain with me... This is the flattery part I mentioned earlier...

    She brought like, a dozen guards with her in case i didn't want to play nice. A DOZEN! She was infuriatingly polite and clever, and I think I'm another world we might have been friends... I'm just-waiting- for the invitation for tea. Hah!

    She had a request that I work to get her sister released, and a truce between ME and the Bloodspiders. Not Us. Just Me. I knew arresting that broad was going to get me into trouble... Now somebody else thinks I'm a threat all by myself, and if I don't play nice, it's probably assassination attempt time yet again.

    Sis says to tell anybody farking with me that they'll have to deal with her... But she's at home taking care of the baby, and I won't do anything to bring danger her way. Not for anything in the world. She may be worlds stronger than me, but I'm going to cheat my ass off, and surprise all these bastards, vampires and Bloodspiders, and Beebles alike!

    Now if only I felt as brave I look on this page..._


  • _Sometimes, I re-read what I've written, and some things just seem to click into place, like a sword into its original scabbard. When I was about to put will to quill here this time, I was reminded of rights.

    I spent the better part of the day nestled under the arm of Artemis in the Commons of Peltarch. I had evidently dozed off, and when I came to, Artemis was just strollng in. I hesitated, about to cast my usual spells, as it had bitten me in the ass last time… And he's there anyway. It someone comes after me out of nowhere, they're going to catch ball lightning up the ass while I have a moment to get ready.

    It was... Nice.

    Part of me wonders...

    Bah, anyway. We went to the sewers a few days ago after seeing some Bloodspider gang types heading down there, Artemis, Ros, Isolde, Alvaniel and I, maybe someone else? Gnarl? We went down there to investigate, and ended up happening across an arcanist who had apparently made a vampire detection glyph to protect her higher ups meeting.

    From what I've learned since, thanks to Magistrate Shannon, we apparently saw the infamous Vloss Orbb himself, before we ended up capturing a women with a nice name, but a bad attitude. Leena Barackivus, apparent noble of house Barackivus, and apparent heir in her father's footsteps too, the late senator Barackivus. If I have it correct, Vloss is supposed to be dead, from a Grag Axe to the head, and the senator died in a cell from poisoning.

    My do we ever lived in interesting times. Then, just as things send calm much later, a mercenary band called the Crimson Spikes showed up, looking for a former Purple Dragon Knight who aided in the escape of a young noble woman, and are thought to be in or near Peltarch. I'm not sure if they should be found and turned over, or if this is another case of classic Narfellian politics where innocents are questionable enough to begin with, and justice is cloudy at best.

    Time will tell.

    As for time, as I was leaving, Artemis asked if I wanted him to walk me to wherever I was going. I thought a moment, and aaskedhim if -he- wanted to walk me anywhere, and even he made noises about enjoying my company, he couldn't quite tell me that he actually wanted to. I stated the difference for him, hugged him, and left in the shape of a hawk.

    Maybe he'll be more decisive next time?_


  • _Trends get my hair to stand on end.

    It's a little like standing in the woods, and noticing that there's more deer hanging about than usual… And then my mind takes off without the rest of me, and I see the population boom, it's effect on the land, the following growth of predator populations, the subsequent hunting, then overhunting, then...

    Ugh. I could write that for an hour.

    Between the damnable goblin fight, then the GIANT orc... Seriously he was like, giant big, and then the cheif.... Something messed up is happening.

    Or I'm interpreting a trend where there is none.

    Either way, all of them were almost completely immune to magic. I'm no super badass, but my magic generally takes a bite out of whatever is screwing with me. Artemis IS a badass, and for the two of those he was there for... His didn't work either!

    Bullshit. It's just plain bullshit!

    Unless it's something worse than bullshit and I'm right.

    Why does it always SUCK even I'm right?

    At least Artemis is back. I didn't realize how comfortable I am fighting beside him, even if he does forget what he's capable of sometimes. That, and I worry about him, now. Apparently the Nexus war got worse after I left, and it's left a mark on him. I want to say I'm going to help him... But is that even my right?

    Maybe I'll try to make it my right._


  • _BEEBLE

    I made a friend today, and it started with a poacher attack.

    Three animals came for me while I was standing outside my treehouse, spelling myself up for the day's trials yet to come, whatever they may be.

    Gods, did my habits serve me well today.

    A bear came to me, rubbing up against my leg while I distractedly stared off in thought, just before a hawk landed upon my shoulder. I pat the bear, and fed the hawk, and a dog approached, whom I noticed was bleeding some.

    I healed him, but found that his injuries were worse than I thought, and were caused by a sword. As were those on the bear. And the hawk? It had an arrowhead lodged in him, and clipped wings, so he could not fly far. It was a wonder he made it to me at all.

    I mended the creatures, with herb and with spell, and the branches scattered outside my home gave notice of the bandit looking thugs that approached before their voices and smell did. They approached, and told me that I had something of theirs, so I made them tell me what, playing dumb and riling them up.

    They claimed that they were dealing under the table with Norwick for animals illegally…

    I muttered a quiet prayer, and a dedication to the storm lord of their lives, should they press me, and continued making them speak, asking them what would happen should I deny them. Naturally ... they threatened my life, so I smiled, thanked them for telling me all I needed to hear, and smote them down, all three at once, with a mighty trio of bolts, courtesy of Talos and one angry Woods Witch.

    Two smoldering corpses and a crater later, I saw it. A faint light to my side, that I could -swear- was observing me the whole time.

    This ... this must have been what Ros was talking about. Beeble. Thank the GODS she'd forewarned me about a dream eating maniac called Beeble. I would have been in serious trouble had I not been prepared ...

    We talked for an hour nearly, politely, as I laid my hand out immediately and addressed him by name, bidding him to simply make me his offer and be on his way. That thoroughly impressed him, and after complimenting me on my prowess, eventually led the conversation back to discussing his deal. I agreed, but upon a condition ... and I brought us back to the Nexus where I have started my successful dreamwalks.

    It's like an island, but it is alone in the dark.

    It's neutral. It's safe. It's isolated. It's familiar, but only as familiar as something you've barely seen can be.

    Sounded perfect, and there we went. He was impressed, despite acting wounded that I would be so cautious when he'd been so polite, but I made him see the reason for my caution, and he made me his first offer. His aid in fighting nightmares, both in my natural dreams, and in the dreamscape.

    I told him that I already -had- that power, and he'd have to do better.

    Secrets for secrets then! My dreams and memories, for knowledge of the NIGHT PARADE.

    I told him I'd never heard of it, shrugged it off, and let him play himself out, giving me information for nothing, even if it was merely tidbits. I had nothing so far, so anything helped.

    I even asked what he wanted, after that.

    I want FREEDOM toots. I'm CAGED. I was caged a long time ago by a pissed off mage who had nothing better to do but experiment on the poor and the helpless.

    I don't look this way by choice, I'll tell you that right now! And I tried to get people around here to help me, to no avail, because they don't understand.

    Lore 21: A few creatures in the Dreamscape eat memories. Or specifically, the dreams of memories and the nightmares they can cause.

    One such thing is called the Dream Vestige ... but it doesn't look like this eye thing. It's a gibbering collection of different nightmares, a necromantic, undead creature that feeds off of nightmares to make itself stronger.

    He never did tell me where his cage was, why he was caged, or HOW to bust it open, but I suspect our next visit will be more informative and interesting, one way or another. I realized I might be pressing too hard, and might give myself away with my subtle information gathering, so I told him:

    "Now, since I respect you and your honesty so far, I'll be straight with ya, Mister Beebs.

    I need my beauty rest, and I don't think you were being entirely honest with me soooo... we can talk again when you're feeling more straightforward. It has been nice, though. this was fun! "

    I stroked the little eyeball image, and said the Sylvan word for "wake" to myself, felt my body's lips move, and with a little Willpower ... I woke.

    The only thing that chased me were it's words.

    Hey, WAIT ... COME BACK HERE ... C'MON, THAT'S NOT FAIR. HEY!

    Now here I am at home, writing it all down, wondering if I did the right thing ... or if I'm in way over my head.

    At least I had a nap!

    SubNote: talked to Ros and Ginger after. Garric Hemway's great grandfather was part of the night parade, Duran Hemway, and found Beedle. Realized the danger, and sealed him in the prison. Couldn't kill Beedle, had some kind of affection for it.

    Shortly after -that- talk, I was brushing my hair for once, a little self conscious that I was once again hanging out with beautiful people... first it's my sister, then people like Isolde, and now Atel! ... and two goblins point to us, and scamper off after nodding, so I blasted them to hell with lightning. Whatever they were up to, it couldn't be good, right?

    Turns out another goblin was trying to find a wife for his chief, who brought his tribe here from the Lost City, thanks to ... guess who? No really, guess.

    Can you figure it out?

    It's Elvadriel. Of FARKING COURSE it's Elvadriel. It's always her.

    Anyway, a survivor runs to get more, a small army shows up, and we're blasting and slashing and farking them up, Me, Belia, Atel, Ginger, and Ros ... and some fark-all huge ones show up with Axes, and try their best to take Atel's head off.

    They nearly succeeded. She dropped like a sack of flour, and since I had stoneskin on, I trusted Talos to have my back, dropped my weapons, and dove over her to try to stop the bleeding.

    The side of her neck was open, and her eyes were staring at the sky, blinking, and blank. I closed the wound with a handful of wet herbs from my pouch and a bandage that probably almost choked the poor gal, before applying healing magicks. I hear that quick and dirty healing when someone's that far gone is rumored to have some nasty side effects...

    She blinked properly, then, her eyes focusing on me, and I forced her to stay down a minute, while the lightning struck around the friends still fighting the goblin chopping at my stoneskinned back.

    I didn't even realize how hurt I was until I started checking on the others, and realized that some of that blood on me smelled like my own.

    Long story short ... she made it. We rested at my place, and the goblin that we let live after an interesting, magic-proof battle brought us tribute! I got a new pack and another ring of healing for when I do the traditional healing stuff to help keep my hands steady as I cut, and gentle as I mend.

    She played a nice song, later, and hugged me on her way out, whispering thank you in my ear.

    Sometimes, it's those little things that make your entire day._


  • _Don't let paranoia win. She says.

    She, of course, being the lady I met only briefly before, here in the commons of Peltarch. Everything is shinier here, including the people!

    So there I was, minding my own business, when up walks this really, I mean like, Elaine level of pretty woman. Turns out her name is Isolde Girasomethingorother. A bardess, of course, and apparently noble too? Another noblewoman Jessica somethingorother (Gods I'm awful with names today, I must be too worked up) flounced her way over, insulting everyone as she came along, claiming we weren't invited to her little party of some sort, a masquerade … but Isolde got an invitation from a "Mysterious masked man!"

    I'd say I'm envious, but I tend to stab those types first, and ask questions later. Life must be more romantic when you're noble... I don't know!

    After some back and forth, Isolde flaunting her invitation, me perhaps charming me way onto the list through the lady's poor abused butler (Monty! Jessica couldn't even call him by his name!), some guards came up to investigate a THEFT! The little piss-addled hare-brained, mewling quim of a misbegotten tavern wench reported Isolde for STEALING the invitation. I may not know this lady well, but I was willing to bet my biscuits ten minutes in that Isolde was ten times the woman this Jessica was.

    10 minutes after -that-, and one guard frisking later since I had them frisk me instead of her, all was well and clear, and I'd made a new acquaintance.

    Today, however, I had news for her apparent Paramour, the mysterious Nathan Wingates. He's supposedly older than MY Dad, but looks my age, and some mutual friends wanted me to pass along a message, so I did, with Isolde there in tow.

    I'm so ... conflicted.

    I passed along the information, and did my best to exaggerate it's importance, especially since it involved my one time friend Elvadriel, who they apparently trust with their lives. Or at least Isolde does. Nathan was quieter, and Isolde and I went at great length back and forth about not only Elvadriel, but the Subject of Great Import that Elvadriel is involved in. I daren't write more details than that because for all I know, parties unknown might kill me and get this journal, and if they do, and it's you reading this, Suck the Balls of a Juggling Ogre!

    They agreed to check in on their friend, but only out of love and caring, and refuse to see my suspicions, despite confirming that yes, Elvadriel is, in fact, a Necromancer.

    Fark.

    They claim she's a Sirion kind of necromancer, purely academic ... but I suspect that there's rarely such a thing. Especially since they said they know that she will in fact control Undead. They can't confirm she won't raise them, nor deny it...

    I'm no Paladin.

    I'm not EVEN CLOSE.

    But that's anathema to a Druid. It's a perversion of all that is life. You want me to accept that as being okay? Alright, cool. One more Defiler, coming right up!

    Alright, so maybe that was a touch dramatic, but where the fark does one draw that line? When is it okay to draw something dead from it's rest, and use it for your own means? Would they feel the same about taking domination of a living thing, like a Vampire? One of which apparently killed Nate?

    They took me into the college, and fed me, and shared their drink. They complimented me on the handling of the vamp situation, and praised my actions and bravery and power and skill. They dazzled me with their charm and beauty, and I admit to having found myself thinking awkward thoughts about the both of them, which made me blush and does so even now, since I knew nothing about myself to that effect, even now ... yet ... I don't know what to do but distance myself and wait.

    They care for Elvadriel. A lot. They want to resolve this all peacefully, and condone her actions, which frankly, they have the leisure to do. I, however, cannot. Control and undead to open a negative energy warded door? Okay, sure. Then put it out of it's misery.

    Raise them on your own?

    I'd best see to it that you never get to again.

    Elvadriel and I were friends, once. At least I like to think so. Was I being played, even then?

    I'd best quit writing about this now before I depress even myself. Apologies, dear reader, unless you killed me. In which case, again, Fark off and die.

    We spoke of other things, like my Gnomish Positioning Scroll. I carried one ever since I could afford my first, and my friends could always find me. Even saved my life, once, having it on me. Now I wonder if it has been used against me. Nate cautioned as much, and even Isolde lacks one, but she said to me this.

    "Don't let Paranoia win. "

    She said that's how the badguys get to you, or something along those lines.

    After I took my leave, I sold it to that magic shop elf in Peltarch, and walked away from it. I missed it as soon as I hit the commons, as I usually check it before sitting down to write like I am now, so I can actively fight the loneliness and find some company for adventure or chit chat ... but now I don't think I will again. I've too much to lose.

    Why do I feel like I've lost something all the same, then?

    There's Alvaniel. I should put this away._


  • _I have a date!

    I was sitting in the Commons of Peltarch, writing a letter, and basically feeling sorry for myself for a moment while I had the time to do so. Yeah, it's pathetic, but my mind has been a traitorous bitch lately, and needs to lay off on the lonely feelings.

    Anyway, there I was, writing away and some people wandered up. Rico, a knight looking fellow, and Labur, the tough as nails dwarf who was with us for our Coldstones trip!

    We all ended up deciding to go for a walk after I announced my intention to do so, and away we went. I layered on the spells like I do, and explained the bit about being a little paranoid, and as i was rambling, a white stag appeared. After a brief question about how much it's pelt would cost… It became a Her. Aoth then joined our walk, and we made it to Norwick unmolested. We spoke briefly about assassination attempts along the way, though, so if I disappear under strange circumstances they know where to go sniffing about.

    In Norwick, we talked of armors and stags and fighting pits and food and drink, and had a general good time. Labur passed out some of his peach ale, which was absolutely wonderful! Belia showed us a beautiful white stag armor, she made it without killing any herself, too!

    Labur is also learning to make axes, and I offered to go try them out with him, to which he replied, "It's a date!" In his broken Common speech, so I guess it is a date!

    First date I've had in a long time, too. Hey, I should wear my special ring!_

    An added scribbled in note reads:

    Note to self, get a bell to put on Hen!


  • _I sit here near that misty pond, sword across my lap. It shines with a blood red shimmer that will never go away. It's my Spirit Sword of Elven Blood. Platinum, durable, and blessed or somehow altered by one of the freed spirits from the elf camp, whenever one of my strikes lands perfectly true, two additional sword strikes join it, as if an elven blade dancer were joining me in the parting of the flesh of my foes.

    Naturally, the group of goblins creeping around behind me is giving me a few minutes of peace while they try to fathom how lightning struck their kin dead as I casually walked past their screaming charging advances… So now that my sword is polished again, I'm taking the time to write and think.

    I haven't seen much of my sister since i got back this latest time, and now she's... Well, busy being pregnant. When I'm not visiting there, I'm out adventuring. When I'm not doing that I'm patrolling about or visiting with the others in the glen, but when I'm not doing that?

    I'm alone.

    I used to enjoy it, but lately the treehouse seems empty. I'll summon Dad's direwolf for company, but it's not the same. I need a best friend or something, and it wasn't til I sat down to think about it that I realized that I don't really have one.

    There's Ras, who is like family, but I don't know that he sees me as much as a friend, more like someone to protect, and like I said, family.

    There's Hen, but she's always "working" in some fashion. And she's distant in many ways. Don't get me wrong, I don't always share my thoughts, but I feel like I sometimes intrude on hers.

    There's Willow, who I haven't seen in a while. My fault, I was gone, but she too has so much going on with herself and her man and her God calls her to distant places like my own calling seems to do to me.

    And hell, this is why I write. The problem isn't them... it's me.

    I haven't stuck around long enough to make these laying relationships...

    Shit.

    I wonder how Artemis is doing..._


  • _The Coldstones.

    They should rename them the ice fangs or something more menacing, I think. NOT that we made it so high that it was too cold to continue, but there was so much danger constantly… That it made you weary to your very core, like something has its jaws around your insides... And all you want to do is fall down in the snow, and sleep.

    Yes... Sleep sounds good.

    No! Gotta write. Must remember.

    Just to GET to the mountains, you now have to go through Jiyyd. Poor destroyed Jiyyd, where Dad first began his time in Narfell. Now it's a shielded wasteland full of demons and other people's memories. I feel like an unwelcome stranger walking through it, and I was certain I was being watched... even as we dispatched every quasit we encountered.

    Labur and Vander led the way, Elvadriel providing magely support, Belia and on druid duty, and Ros and Ginger keeping an eye out for stuff the rest of us might not notice. Aedric was there, and though cautious, made a valuable sword arm as well. Ras was there too, thankfully, as he was the most important part. Aside from being a very capable warrior, he was also our guide.

    I'm sure I missed someone, but the details elude me. Sleep threatens, and I take off running, quill in hand.

    We fought undead Njast soldiers, we fought winter wolves, we fought scores and hordes of snow goblins, and we even explored some extra caves. Only a couple truly scary things happened.

    One, we encountered a Chilblain, which is basically a snake-like dragon in icy realms. I muttered a thanks to Kossuth for gracing me with the power I had prepared, and summoned a roaring stream of fire at the beast, having to hold still in its path to cast it... when with a different kind of roar, its soul seemed to leave it and it fell down lifeless, my fire petering out upon that realization.

    Elvadriel had cast something like Slay Living... or some equivalent, and that fight was over. A Druid doesn't cast something like that without being ready to answer for it, but a necromancer would. All day long. I sigh as I write this, because even as my friends old and new seem to call her friend, that day leading up to our confrontation in the tower still lingers between us. I still know not what to do...

    The other scary thing was that behind the Chilblain, was a ghostly apparition who claimed to be a Peltarch noble looking for a tree. Blah blah blah you and everyone else looking for some tree, pal. We left him with only more questions, and continued our adventure.

    At one point, a quake shook the cave we were in. When I tried to dire bear dig our way out, I got stuck between two rockfalls, and had to get clever. I had an air elemental push my birdshaped self out a hole in the cavern ceiling, then lowered a rope their way... except I had popped up surrounded by snow goblins.

    I fought my own personal small army of them, several waves of then, screeching gibbering screaming slavering monsters set for my blood, as if I was at fault for the cave in.

    Arrows flew, as accurately as I could send them. I could not afford a missed shot . Goblins charged. Goblins cast. Goblins shot. Goblins died. I raised my hands to the skies above , beseeched Talos himself for his aid, and even as arrows scored my armor and some found flesh, I felt that electric tingle of the very air around me taking fire.

    The skies poured forth lightning as dozens of goblins struggled to find their target. "She's alone! " Some must have said. "It's her fault the ceiling fell!" I heard them blame. On they came, and died, to arrow, lightning bolt, and when they got close enough to threaten me, blade. I can only imagine they're confusion. One screaming, growling woman, suddenly vengeful weather, and the ever horrifying "what's that smell why can't I breathe where am I what's happening" moment from my choking powder bombs.

    It was scary until the others finally managed to climb up the rope i lowered for them . Snow goblins are tougher than their green cousins. It was scary how close I came to bring overwhelmed. It's scary how much magic I used on this trip, and how much fighting I still did when I had spent my gifts.

    More than that... it was scary how much I liked it. The struggle to survive, the spray of blood on my skinknowing, that the strike I lashed out with at an enemy I couldn't quite see landed home, and the change in the screams of my enemies changing from a thirst for my blood... to a surprised cry of seeing and losing their own.

    Rule #1 you little bastards. Druids Cheat._


  • _Ros died today.

    She died literally in my arms.

    While we were all fighting a tremendous pile of gnolls, apparently she found a locked up hin, and tried to set him free, triggering a trap. She was barely breathing and badly burned. Had I been there a moment sooner, maybe, it would have made a difference… but I was, at the moment of her scream, pouring a stream of fire onto a demonic gnoll, while his little pals hacked chips out of my stoneskin.

    It had all started innocently enough. Ros , Ginger, then Theaon and some new fella, Aedric all showed up in Norwick, as we were planning what to go do with our day. Aedric needed potions , Ros wanted to see Gnolls, so away we went.

    Boy were they worked up! Ras and Hen showed up at some point and joined in the fight, and it got absolutely crazy. I did, however, remember a trick! Gnolls are a lot like dogs. Their noses are very sensitive! I gathered mushroom spores months ago, lots of them, and I'm quite immune to their effects... so I made plenty of clouds in their ranks and really ruined their days. Sure my allies walked into them too.... And there were complaints about how people hate "bottled Brumir's butt", but it worked out okay. Scores of them died.

    It reminded me of being up in the Coldstones... oh man I have to write about that too! It got scary, and creepy.

    Anyway, we rescued the fella in the cage, people called him Pep? And spent a YEAR dividing all three potions and stuff. At the very least though, I think Aedric got what he needed. I hope Ros is okay. I should bake her something..._


  • _I shot a tree today.

    This is not to say that we're all tree hugging loonies, and I feel bad for shooting the tree. I don't. It was an accident. I feel silly because I'm jumping at shadows. I thought there was someone lurking there…

    Not Shadows with a capital S, but ever since that assassination attempt, I've been on my toes. I feel silly, because people I know are being stalked by vampires, and Captial S shadows, and the like, and here I am jumping at regular ones.

    Sure, I have several friends, but I don't always hang around them. They have lives of their own, and don't necessarily need a pet Druidess following them around. That being said, I -am- trying to make more of an effort to be around other people. Not just to discourage assassinations, but because I think I need it. And I want it. I crave company, these days, and it's surprisingly hard to find sometimes.

    Ras is always good company, but he's got more on his plate than most. He -really- doesn't need bothering. I had started making friends for a while with that mage Elvadriel, but then I hunted a Necromancer, and the trail led to her, and I still think it's her. I still can't trust her, even after we all kept each other alive in the Lost City mere days ago.

    Anyway, all dark thoughts aside ... I got a nice letter from Anna Blake for the circle, it seems she wants to be an ally to us in an official capacity, so I'm excited to tell Fadia about that. AND there's a Stone Circle near Peltarch now, in thanks to the Druids for helping restore that area near the Temposan shrine that apparently got destroyed by a Meteor while I was away.

    Holy smokes, right?

    Anyhow, I'd best go make good on my plan to go socialize. Here's hoping nothing -too- eventful happens today. Or maybe I hope it does?

    Ugh, I'm the worst at deciding these things!_


  • _Sometimes, it's easy to feel like you're not enough.

    Sometimes, you get that feeling that you're not strong enough, or smart enough, or hells, pretty enough.

    Other times, though… You get exactly what you needed. Like today!

    I napped, awoke, and made by way to Norwick, where I found nobody of note hanging about. Spelling up as I normally do, now that I'm apparently a target for assassination, I went south in search of company.

    I found tracks. Dwarf tracks, elf tracks, human tracks, all heading south, so off I went. I hadn't harassed the hobs in quite some time, so I gambled and went through the graveyard. At night. Knowing vampires have been seen about... OK, so it wasn't my brightest idea, but it panned out. The tracks picked up again, and heading east, I found dead hobs, and one particularly mutilated... Something.

    Right. Definitely on the right track.

    Of all the places, they went into the Bugbear mine. Naturally, I followed, camouflage magic in place and a lightning arrow nocked. I found Belia and the rest by that little cave room that looks like a bugbears idea of a library, and when we all got ready to leave, I waited outside.. Only to see a small army of hobgoblins and bugbears marching our way.

    Rushing inside, I told the others, and we barricaded the door with book cases to make a choke point, and no sooner were we finished, then the fight was on! I mainly filled the doorway with arrows at first, (thank goodness for dwarves being short!!) Then managed to snake lightning through the cave and really light things up!

    My fingers were sore, and I was contemplating throwing a spore back out the door to slow down the rush, but Vander was too close, so I opted for some tangling vines instead. They caught him too, but stopped three huge bugbears in their tracks. I decided that was for the best after a huge one got into the back ranks.

    What. A. Fight.

    With some close calls, we made it, and cut down some leader, breaking their morale and sending the rest scurrying for their lives.

    All that, and the only thing that made a huge difference to me, was Ginger, who said, "Hey Leena, I'm glad you were there. " Or something similar, that made me feel good, and needed, and strong. Or maybe it was Ros? One little thankful compliment.

    Sometimes , that's all it takes._


  • _As evidenced by my last page, life has gotten interesting. I'm back again, thanks to that nagging feeling every time it feels like I'm missing something that I -need- to be back home for, and I strongly suspect that I'll end up like Dad in yet another way. That is to say, tied to Narfell til the Gods take me, whichever way that happens.

    So far it's been assassinations, and trials, and magic, oh my!

    Upon being back, I've realized a couple of things. First, I've missed my old friends, and the thrill of meeting new ones. Next, men older than my father need to quit having his same trick of looking younger. It's deceiving. Finally … I need to get my damned armor enchanted or something. That was too close!

    I can't say it's been uneventful being back, at least. I even just got back from a trip to the lost city that we four barely survived.

    My wrists hurts too much to write more right now, but I have thoughts to put down here later.

    Now, where can I find a darkwood seed or sapling..._


  • The journal is dusted off.

    The pages before are skimmed through and chuckled along to.

    A new page is turned to, crisp and unblemished front and back, and upon it, three humanoid figures are drawn in simple barbarian wear, and then crossed through in red ink with a light line in an X shape.

    Below it, in the same ink.

    _**Day one of stepping into Dad's shoes it seems, has come and gone. Three Tribesman assassins came after my friend and I who I will not name for caution of this being found.

    I have left a message that many will figure for Bugbear work. Two impaled by the tree near the gob cave at the lake. One hung, as if the tree were a gallows, by his own belt.

    Hopefully the message was received by the intended party.

    If not, I'm sure I'll get to send another soon.**_