3. The Journal of A Lost Soul

The Journal of A Lost Soul


  • The Pain of Loss

    I have finally ventured from Terino, the hamlet where I first met Sara. The pain and grief of her loss is still near, and though I smile every time I think of her, the smile is pained, tainted by the blood on my lips. I still rember finding her there, broken, lying shattered and bleeding in the Sydicate's ritual circle. The way she shook when I lifted her into my arms. The softness of the smile that found her face when she saw me. The cruelty of Malice's laugh as he left us. The blood of that last tender kiss. The harsh irony of her dying words, her last whisper my name on her lips, "Ivellios…..." The memories haunt me always, shadows playing at the far edges of my mind, always there, always teasing, a reminder of who I am and what follows me.
    My lips are covered by blood.
    My hands stained by blood's rusted taint.
    I dare not love again.
    -From the Journal of Ivellios Starmist

    The shadow mounted the crest in the hills, many days of travel having lead to this place.
    He cast his grey, emotionless eyes about the plains before him, taking carefull note of the men in garish and ragged unifroms below him, they had seen him before, and made no hostile movements, but the shadow wasn't about to risk anything.
    So this is Norwick
    The shadow pulled the hood of his black cloak farther over his eyes and slipped into the grasses of the plains and early morning fog, heading for the gates.

    The shadow reached the gates and was greeted by the call of a guard as he reached to open them.
    "Who goes there?"
    The shadow looked up and the guard could sense the man below's eyes locking straight on to his, boring into him.
    "A traveler seeking shelter."
    "What's you buisness?" the guard ask, noting the man's array of weapons.
    "I seek shelter here, my buisness is my own."
    The shadow noticed another call coming from the other side of the gate.
    "Jonas, let the man in, it's late and its cold, all he wants is a bed at the inn."
    "Very well sir. You may pass"
    The shadow nodded to the man named Jonas and slipped through the gates.

    The shadow entered the town and raced along the roads to the trees in the distance, thoughts racing through his mind as he stalked twoards the trees.
    The old man said there was a crypt here, where the dead were known to walk, bodies disapere from the graves….
    The shadow side stepped a disgruntled man in green before he bumped into him. The man taking the polite time to turn about and curse him before cotinuing on his way.
    If the dead walk here, that means there are ley-lines near by
    The shadow nodded to a man greeting him as he passed by.
    And where there's ley-lines, the Syndicate is sure to make an apperance eventually, and where the dead walk also lies my duty to the Watch

    The shadow eventually reached a gate leading into the woods, a campfire tended by the guards burned merrily to his right, and dark, tall trees of the forest loomed over the top of the gates.
    This forest is very old and has seen much the shadow noted to himself.
    He walked twoards the fire and took the black bow from his back, his bulging quiver of black arrows, and his black scimitars.
    He pulled some wax from his shoulders and began to wax his bowstring, humming softly as memories of another floated to the forefront of his mind.
    A soft face, broken, wreathed in silver hair.
    Once golden eyes dulled, a bare flicker of life barely dancing within in.
    Fires and screams of others, the hiss of arrows through the air, bodies falling about him.
    Once white snow turned to rust by blood.
    His last word to her.
    Her name "Annistranna…"
    Her bitter smile, her last breath ended before she could finish what she was saying. "Ivellios, I lo-........"
    The shadow looked up sharply as the gates opened and a beautiful elven women entered. Long black, almost blue hair swept back easily and carelessy, held back by twigs. Pale skin tinted almost blue, a slight swell of her breasts, their rise and fall with each carefull breath. Her sure but gentle stride, the slight sway of her hips with each of her steps.
    The shadow chuckled grimly to himself.
    Once, when he still had a heart. Once when he still knew what love was. Once when he knew the taste of love. Once, when he knew the desire of physical attraction. Once, before he was encased by deaths shadow, he might have noticed all of this in a different light. It might have created a deep pulling within his loins, within his chest and heart.
    It was gone.
    All gone.
    The shadow chuckled again.
    The woman regarded his chuckles with a slight curiosty as she sat a small distance away from him beneath a tree and with drew a bow from her back, begining to wax it.
    Neither said anything for a long while.
    Then the woman, as if uncomfortable in the silence began to talk.
    "I've never seen you around here before. You new to Norwick?"
    The shadow continued his work, but his eyes left to lock onto hers.
    "Yes."
    "So, are you just passing through, or do you plan on staying?"
    "Depends."
    "Depends on what?"
    "Depends on how long it takes me to kill what I came to kill."
    "Oh....um....how long have you been here?"
    "A couple of hours. An....aquaitance of mine lived here briefly as a child. She told me there may be some places I may want to visit within the Rawlinswood." The shadow motioned briefly with his hands to the dark trees looming behind them.
    The sun began to make its way slowly over the trees, dawn beginig to break.
    "What places?"
    "A place called the druids glenn."
    "Oh! I know where that is, would you like me to take you?"
    "If you'd like."
    "All right then, let's go shall we?"
    The shadow picked up his equipment, and started for the gates without answer.

    They traveled for about two hours into the heart of the wood, the shadow taking time to marvel in the primal beauty of the wood.
    "Here we are"
    The two stepped into a glenn hidden within a copse of large trees.
    Early dawn sunlight streaked through the tree canopy lighting the place in a pale orange, thick carpets of leaves covered the ground, a small stream bubbling beside the two. A small stone altar stood before them.
    Somehow, the beauty of this palce hardly pulled a cord within his heart.
    "By the way, my name is Eluriel. What's yours?"
    "Ivellios. Ivellios Starmist last of my line."
    Ivellios headed twoard the altar and placed his hands on it.
    "What do you mean last of your line?"
    Eluriel walked up next to him, her hair falling slightly in front of her eyes, reminding Ivellios dryly of her beauty.
    "My city was destroyed. All in it, my friends, family wife and son, everyone was killed."
    Eluriel saw a small tear rolling down the side of his face.
    "Ivellios?"
    Then it happened.
    He sank slowly to the ground, his back against the altar. His fingers dug into the ground of the glenn, his gloved hands digging deep ruts into solid ground.
    The memories, all of them, burst through into his mind. The night it happened. The torches, the hiss of arrows, his dying comrades. A desperate fight. The arrow in his leg. His blood.
    A soft face, broken, wreathed in silver hair.
    Once golden eyes dulled, a bare flicker of life barely dancing within in.
    Fires and screams of others, the hiss of arrows through the air, bodies falling about him.
    Once white snow turned to rust by blood.
    His last word to her.
    Her name "Annistranna..."
    Her bitter smile, her last breath ended before she could finish what she was saying. "Ivellios, I lo-........"
    Finding her there, broken, lying shattered and bleeding in the Sydicate's ritual circle. The way she shook when he lifted her into his arms. The softness of the smile that found her face when she saw him. The cruelty of Malice's laugh as he left them. The blood of that last tender kiss. The harsh irony of her dying words, her last whisper his name on her lips, "Ivellios......"
    Sara!
    "Ivellios!"
    The cry seemed distant, as if from another world, soothing, filled with concern.
    He turned his head slowly, and realized he was holding her hand. He felt the hot steam of tears flowing down his face.
    Eluriel smiled gently, and for a moment he felt his dark emotional walls melt ever so slightly, just in that moment.
    "Ivellios, it's allright you aren't there any more, your here in Norwick, your not in the city any more."
    Rage seemed to explode from within him.
    "What did I tell you!"
    Eluriel seemed taken aback by his anger.
    "You told me about your city, how it was destroyed, about your wife and son-"
    "That's it?"
    "Yes that's it-"
    "I am sorry, I shouldn't have lost myself to the memories…."
    "Ivellios, it is understandable, you've gone through alot...."
    Her voice seemed to fade into the distance as he was lost in thought, he was vaugely aware that she was trying to comfort him, he could feel himself responding to her, though where his responses came from he wasn't sure.
    Nothing about Sara? I know she's dead. I know she is, I held her in my arms. I was there during her funeral…I lit the pyre, I carry her ashes still....How is this? I'm I that afraid to remember love? Why?
    Ivellios turned to the altar, and kneeled.
    "Please leave me Eluriel, I wish to pray."
    Eluriel nodded in silent understanding and walked to a far corner of the glenn.
    He wasn't sure what he said, he wasn't sure how long he prayed, but when he finished he was filled with a sense of happiness, forgiveness, acceptance. He knew it was his god, he knew it was Correlon, all the death that surrounded him had lead him here, as part of his god's purpose. He was filled with the utmost sense of peace.
    Ivellios opened his eyes and stared skyward. The beauty and peace of the glenn filled him, his heart sang in joy.
    Eluriel came next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
    "Are you allright?" she looked into his piercing grey eyes and found something strange within them.
    "I'm home….." he whispered.
    "What?"
    "Nothing."
    Ivellios stood and the two headed back to the town.

    Next Entry: Friendship


  • ((Hey, thanks for the help, perhaps I will keep on writing.
    These posts though, involve (mostly), things that have happened to the main character IG. Many of these things are interesting, but I'm mostly heving trouble with new ideas because my char is such a loner that things don't (too often) happen around him, though when they do, they are usually very deep and personaly for that char…(go figure) so, I suppose I'll keep on writing then as soon as I get more Ideas, and I'll break up the posts more, writing does give my a lot of joy, though my style is usually one of three things, somber and schzio, schzio, or dry with with a somewhat happy balance between the latter and the former...so I really need to work on the happy blance aspect I suppose. For now then, I guess these stories are just "on hiatus".
    I'll probably write more too, so be on the lookout. Oh, and seriously, did I go too far with the second post?))

    -DnD_Freaky_Geek :tux:

    "Soylent Green is people!!" Thorn to Hatcher

  • Peltarch Far Scouts

    (( The key I've found is to break up a longer story into smaller chunks, and leave cliffhangers. Like they say, always leave them wanting more. And in addition, the smaller segments will make the stories easier to read. Really long posts can be hard on the eyes. ))


  • ((What the dire bunny said. The more you write, the better you will get at it – and if people see that you keep writing for the same story, they'll note it and give it a read. All you have to do is keep it up. :)))


  • ((Simply giving up is the best way to assure that you will have no audience. If writing gives you no pleasure personally, then don't do it–but if it does, do not be discouraged. Continue writing, and you will find that forum-goers will frequent your stories more than you would have thought.))


  • Hmmm…..Doesn't seem like I'm getting a viewership, so I guess I'll being shutting this down for awhile? afterall, why write if no-one reads? I'll post occasionaly, but I never know when. sets his notebook aside Well, maybe I'll write something new......sighs

    -DnD_Freaky_Geek :tux:


  • Friendship

    I can see why Sara sent me to Norwick. She wanted me to see a peaceful place. A place where she grew happily as a child, loved by a caring community.
    Maybe she wanted me to understand that love still is in this world, maybe thats why she wanted her ashes spread here.
    I feel that, she new it would hurt me beyond a doubt when she passed, she knew it was here time, she could have healed heself, but in stead she used her gods last blessing on     me_. That was so like her, to help others instead of herself.
    Now its my turn to help her, but somehow I can't bring myself to spread her ashses where she wishs to rest.
    Somehow I can't let go.
    Why?
    Can I really be that selfish? How can I not help the one who loved me? Despite how I treated her?
    Whats wrong with me?
    Maybe I hold onto her because this urn I carry is the only memory of our friendship, our love.
    I should grant her wish, I know I should…...
    Gods.... What's wrong with me?
    -From the Journal of Ivellios Starmist_

    The walkers shadows were long and many as they stepped through the gate, the guards next to them nodding as they passed through.
    Ivellios took a few steps ahead of Eluriel, looking about with ever dark eyes.
    "Ivellios."
    He turned, pulling up the deep hood of his tattered cloak against the blinding light of the rising sun behind them.
    "Yes?"
    Eluriels slung her small pack off her shoulders and dug about inside, her small tounge sticking out the side of her mouth as she dug about, searching for something. Her eyes widened and brows lifted when she found whatever it was she had been looking for, she nodded and gave heself a small ahhhh of consent as she pulled the item out of her sack. She rubbed it on her shirt and tossed it to him.
    The shadow's black gloved hand shot out like lighting and snatched from the air. He opened his hands and looked at it.
    It was an apple, large with a dark blood red skin, it was very ripe, if not slightly overly so. The rising suns light reflected brightly off the glossy skin near the stem, and the apple was slightly bruised from the toss.
    Ivellios spun the apple deftly about his hand regarding it without any hint of what he thought.
    "An apple? What for?"
    "It's ripe if thats what your wondering, just picked it myself this morning." Eluriel swung the pack up onto her slim shoulders, shifting slightly as the wait pulled on her back, "Sometimes I find that eating an apple helps me become a little happier after I eat it."
    An attempt to make me happy, maybe the people here are kind as Sara said, he gave a slight snort of derision kindess is a weakness of the ignorant, few realize that no kindess is left for them, what a shock it must be when a person goes to the grave realizing how small and cold this world is.
    Ivellios tossed the apple to Eluriel, who wasn't ready for it, it fell to the ground and flew to pieces as it hit the rock of the ground.
    "I have no need of happiness."
    Eluriel regarded the apple curiosly.
    "A nice atempt, just see that your niceties aren't the end of you."
    "Ivellios…I was only trying to help you-"
    "What? Cope with the pain? The pain is my strength, I don't need to cope with it, it only serves me."
    Eluriel seemed slightly taken aback by Ivellios' sharp repraisel, but only for a moment. "How can something so horrible be an aide to you?"
    "It serves as a lesson, and the fuel that fires my blades."
    "What lesson?"
    "To remind me never to make the same mistake twice."
    "What mistake?"
    "Love."
    "What?! How is love-" Ivellios cut here off with a glare from his eerie grey eyes.
    "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some buisness to take care of. I heard from the person who sent me here that the woods are infested with goblins, mayhaps you would like to join me on a hunt after my buisness?"
    Eluriel looked at him with an emotion Ivellios found hard to pin down, Probably already a no. Ivellios smiled slightly to himself, and sensing that no answer was immediatly forthcoming turned to walk into town.
    "How is love a mistake? Without love you can never know what friendship is like."
    Ivellios turned his head, regarding the woman over his shoulder.
    "Therein lies the mistake. Friendship leaves to love. I've made the mistake of loving dead women twice. I don't intend to make the same mistake twice."
    "You loved….. Twice? But..."
    Ivellios turned sharply on his heel, and headed to town. The rising sun casting many shadows before him.
    As he walked off, Eluriel regarded his back with curiosty, causually, she laid two fingers across her cheek.
    "He's a strange one, that is. I wonder if he's ever finished a conversation before?"

    Ivellios walked briskly through the alleys, listening dimly for the sound of following footsteps.
    Why must she pry, maybe she thinks I need, help. Maybe if she became my friend it would help me. There was that word again. Friend. It had been cropping up way to often of late for Ivellios' comfort.
    He stepped onto the road, nearly running into the man in green who'd ursed him early this morning.
    "What the hell do ye think ye doin' lad! Move your elven ass off this road and watch where ye be headin next time!"
    Ivellios looked at the man impassively.
    "What's your name sir?"
    "Waldt Cent, and if you don't move it'll be me fist printed on that pretty face elf!"
    "Good, now I know who I'm hitting."
    "What?!"
    Ivellios cocked his fist back and swept it sideways into the man's face, dropping him onto the seat of his pants.
    Cracking his knuckles, Ivellios regarded the man with a cold smile. "I am quite sorry Mr. Cent, but you've caught me in a bad mood. That will probably swell, so I'd put something cold on it before your face puffs up to equal the size of those ham-hands of yours."
    Waldt was sputtering, trying to findsomething to say. Ivellios simply turned and continued on his way headed to a road farther ahead of him.
    I shouldn't have done, that I let my emotions get the better of me. That shouldn't have happened
    Shaking his head, the shadow headed down a road to his right, twoards a pair of large wooden gates, upon opening the he was greeted by a old a weathered sign reading "Narfell Cemetary" Nodding, he crossed over the bridge an walked through the copse of trees before him.

    The ground had a thick layer of fog rolling about it, the place was dark, as if the morning sun had not the stregnth to rise above the trees and breach the darkness of the graveyard. Many headstones stretched off into the distance as the shadow cast his gaze about the place. Some had been broken, others bore flowers and tokens of lovers, others still had been weathered for so long it made it impossible to read the inscriptions of the head stones.
    A man in a bright green shuffled about tending to a fresh grave, smoothing the soil and rubbing a patch of dirt from the headstone, an impossibly cheery smile was across his face, and he nodded, whistling, as he saw Ivellios enter.
    So this is where the dead rise to haunt this town. Not surprising the reek of death is strong here, I can sense the tingle of the ley-lines in this place, the Sydicate will definatly be here. I've come to the right place.
    Ivellios nodded back to the man an walked among the headstones, stopping to pray for the souls of those whos graves looked untouched.
    As far as he was concerned, even the namless dead of those who were buried beneath the oldest and unreadable headstones deserved respect, for if they had stayed dead, his job was expoentially easier.
    "Ahh….If it isn't my old friend, Ivellios Starmist." A soft voice floated casually from behind him.
    Images quickly made their way to the fron of his mind.
    Finding her there, broken, lying shattered and bleeding in the Sydicate's ritual circle.
    "It's been awhile Ivellios."
    The way she shook when he lifted her into his arms. The softness of the smile that found her face when she saw him.
    "Though, I must say I am surprised to find you here. I thought you would have killed yourself by now." An evil, chiding laugh filled the air, floating to his ears.
    The cruelty of Malice's laugh as he left them. The blood of that last tender kiss.
    "MALICE!"
    Ivellios stood, whirling in a perfect pirouette, drawing his scimitars, their razor blades a glimmering stream of quicksilver in the morn's first rays as he drew them throught the air. He turned to face the man behind him, his baldes readied in a fighting stance.
    Malice clapped his hands lightly together, smiling. "I'm glad to see you haven't lost your touch with the blade Ivellios."
    The shadow looked at the man who haunted his dreams every night.
    He stood tall, nearly six feet. He skin was pale and pulled tight against him, reavealing much bone, lending his face a skull-like apperance. He wore long black flowing robes, large voluminous sleeves engulfed his arms, and runes of gold and silver and red adorned his clothing, and his long white hair was bound in a single braid reaching to his shoulders. He was flanked on either side by naked, rotting corpses. Their stench filled the air, making Ivellios smile, it had been awile since he had whetted his blades appetite on the undead. The shambling corpses flesh was rotting a sagging off of their bodies in long strips, what was left intact crawled with the number of maggots beneath it.
    Ivellios lowered one blade to his side and brought the other up to eye level, closing his eyes, he began to pray.

    "By the will of the gods, the impure souls of the living dead shall be banished into eternal damnation."
    Ivellios quickly exploded into motion twirling onto the balls of his left foot his scimitars cut screaming through the air before him, one low the other high. The shambling creature before him swung a punch clumsily at Ivellios. Immediatly he bent his knees, shifting his weight to his right foot as his high scimitar severed the cretures fetid arm, sending rotten flesh and bone flying everywhere. Maggots crawled from the severed arm where it landed, his second blade drove home in the creatures lower side, cutting through skin and flesh as though it where paper, the momentum of his blade stopped at the creature's shoulder, Ivellios whirled his other blade about in a tight arc and sliced through the creatures head at eye level, cutting clean in half and sending skull and the remains of rotten flesh and brain flying every where. He twisted himself in another pirouette, cutting the zombie his right blade was in clean in half sending more maggots and flesh every which way, before he finished the turn he quickly reversed the grip of his right hand scimitar so its blade ran parrallel to his arm. As he completed the circut the blade slammed home into the second undead monster's chest, and he twirled his second blade downward in a viscious arc to slice through the creatures hip and left leg. Maggot and skin flew everywhere, this corpse was fresher than the last, and as the shadow pulled his blades from the creature he saw that they were dripping with a sticky black ichor.

    Ivellios smiled. "Come on Malice, I didn't even break a sweat. I know you can do better."
    Malice only smiled. "Now now, is that any way to treat a friend? Killing my bodyguards? Not very noble of you, you know I can hardly walk." Malice chuckled and leaned on his stick as if sickly.
    Ivellios smiled slightly.
    "That puny prayer of yours." Mailce shook his head, "Did you really think it would help any? As I recalled you said that the last time we met, when you came to rescue Sara."
    Images of Sara surfaced violently within Ivellios' mind Good, more fuel for the fire he thought grimly.
    "As I recall, you were quite mean to my. You lost your temeper and swore to kill me, I believe you called me a bastard also. Tsk tsk." Malice shook his head as if sad. "I thought it was quite unlike Ivellios Starmist, last Sworn Brother of the Night Watch to lose his temper, from what I heared you have no emotion." A cruel smile played on Malice's lips, "Though, the way you cried about that whore of a cleric you must have loved her."
    Ivellios' hand began to tremble slightly, if Malice noticed he made no sign.
    "You know, she would have been the perfect sacrifice, seeing as how she was pregnant and all."
    Pregnant…Gods no......
    Ivellios began to tremble violently.
    Malice smirked. "Oh, so I was right. The bitch's child was yours." He smiled broadly. "Tell me, when you fucked her, did you pump her cunny? Or did you like that tight little ass better?"
    Ivellios looked up, his face a mask of pain and rage.
    "You…..you evil bastard!" Ivellios pointed down the length of his blade. "I'm going to send you to burn in the Nine Hells where you belong!"
    Ivellios charged forward and swung with both blades in a high sweeping arc, Malice held up his hand as Ivellios's blades came down tearing through the fingers, blood sprayed everywhere from his hand and the fingers went flying, bits of jagged bone and meat and tissue protruded from the stumps where his fingers had been, blood spurting with each beat of his heart.
    Mailce frowned.
    "That wasn't nice."
    He waved his hand and Ivellios flew backwards falling to the ground.
    Mailce picked up his fingers, spoke a few words, and they reattached themselves to his hand.
    "This place is claimed by Balthazaar and the Syndicate of the Dead." Malice smirked. "May we meet again." Malice swept his cloak about him, and in a blackness that sucked the very light of the morning into oblivion, he disapered.
    Ivellios stood, pulling a torch from his back, he lit it and stooped to light the bodies before him on fire.
    Standing he watched the bodies burn, an Malice's words came to him.
    ' thought it was quite unlike Ivellios Starmist, last Sworn Brother of the Night Watch to lose his temper'
    Ivellios shook his head and spit blood from his mouth.
    The Syndicate is here, and I can't fight them alone. I'll need friends, and I shall have to begin to restore the Watch.
    One task he could stand. The other he didn't prefer.
    Friendship. He wasn't going to like this.
    I suppose I can start with that Eluriel woman.
    Crushing a maggot beneath his heal, Ivellios headed twoard the gate of the cemetary.
    There was much work to do.

    Next Entry: Memories //to much? should i move?//