3. The Journal of Jerrick Rayfe

The Journal of Jerrick Rayfe


  • ::The journal you find by a tossed aside bedroll is open to a recent page, for your reading pleasure, or perhaps forgotten in Jerrick's haste to be off somewhere::

    ((This is not the past of Jerrick Rayfe, that is found here. http://www.nicoprojects.com/wiki/Jerrick_Rafe))

    It has been several weeks since my unintentional visit to the between life. I can't decribe it as the afterlife, considering the the fact that I am still breathing rather puts a dint in that name.

    Since then, I can barely make sense of all that has happened. I suppose that's why i'm talking to myself on paper.

    I can still remember the way the light shone off of it…
    So a few days ago, as I exited the caves in Jiyyd, I managed to clear them out as usual of course, and I was about to sit down for a snack and a nap. Clearing the violent creatures out of the cave was a job of mine, given to me by Horbag, the manager and owner of "Rats and Bats", a cafe inside of the caves. I needn't mention that I cleared them out as a supplement to the larders, as anyone who has eaten there knows it goes unsaid.

    I had been praying a lot recently, for somethign specific. A sign, some sort of message that I was performing as I should, according to Mielikki's will. I was killing for food and to keep the residents of Jiyyd safe, I was safeguarding the weak (When they're weaker than me of course...) and trying to make myself a useful member of the townof Jiyyd, yet somehow I could not help but feel that I was at a standstill with my Goddess, like she was waiting for me to do something that I didn't know I was to do.

    Well ((Indistcint scratching covers a line in the page here))
    Let's try this again. I had finished my work, and was moving to rest near the 3 pillars with runes on them, that sit in front of the cave. I heard rustling nearby, and hooves, and of course, assumed it was one of the cows, loose again.

    Something was... different. Not wrong, just not... cow-like, or even normal. I dropped my things, after letting Fayt wander off to be on his own for a while so I wouldn't spook the villagers, and followed the sound.
    A magnificent white horse stood before me, looking right at me. This horse wasn't just white, it was almost light itself. It wasn't until it turned it's head that I realized that there was a horn, ivory and spiraling to a length of several feet, pointing to the heavens wherever the unicorn looked.

    I didn't have words for what I saw. I dumbly followed it, Muttering soft words of awe to Mielikki. It stopped then... and faced me directly. I greeted it, made it clear I was not about to harm it, and held out my hand. It accepted my touch, and then nuzzled my face, leaving me with a sense of dizziness, and then being whole, intact, and uninjured!

    I didn't know what to do, I was about to ask it a question, when it stamped a hoof, and the grass was kicked up by a wind that was not there, and in the swirling leaves were the words " <dr>the lady's blessing" as if it were not clear already.

    I followed it for a time afterwards, after bowing down and giving my thanks, and praising Mielikki breathlessly, and it dissapeared in front of my eyes, leaving the world yet again dim and normal, but my heart full of song, and ... peace.

    My prayers were answered. It was no longer a question of whether my lady approved of me, but rather, when would she again show me her approval. Now I know I am on my chosen path, and i go forward from this day with a lighter heart, and a surer hand.</dr>


  • This journal, minus the previous entry, is being carried about by Leena Lynn Rayfe these days, and notes in the Druid Glen and elsewhere are being updated from the information kept within.

    Some people may gain access to this journal at some point, and IC knowledge gained of past events through it's sharing.


  • This last page, does not exist in the journal that was passed on to Lycka Zomasdottir, wife of Aelthas, and trusted friend. Instead, this page finds itself being written atop a simple wooden table by a lone figure atop a mountain. The writer casts a shadow on the page from the sun shining above in a lightly clouded sky, and the mountain casts it's own noble shadow across the city of Praka, sitting peacefully along the Icelace River in Damara.

    Birds sing, and wolves that have begun to migrate to the mountain in packs, howl occasionally in their songs to Selune and one another. A cool wind almost always blows off of the mountain, and the occasional rumble echoes forth from it, like a giant snoring in slumber a great distance away.

    Atop his mountain, the keeper sets implement to paper, and begins to write, hesitantly at first, then with increasing familiarity and confidence as the old habit returns to him.

    _Everything has changed.

    Everything.

    A great long time ago, when I was either just barely an elder, or newly one, I can hardly remember now … we enacted a Ritual in the Rawlins, to cleanse the land of the taint. Belia and I led the ritual with some of the other elders, I believe Oreth was returned for a short time, and had the main lead for us ... and we farked up. Big time.

    In all the years since I began my teachings, long before the fey, long before the Legion, long before Norwick and it's Rawlins were a part of my life, I thought I knew the difference between good and evil, and where I fit in.

    I was an agent of good.

    That day in Jiyyd when Mielikki's Unicorn visited me, and gifted me the pendant that I wear even as I write this atop the Mountain, made me certain of my place in the great cycle of things.

    I was wrong, and we died for my hubris.

    The agents of the furies struck at us. Their fury was only matched by their strength, and we were punished, and slain, our own Gods too burdened by the task we set for ourselves and them, to step up and help us as we were cut down.

    Our savior, was Ronan Redralen. Summoner of shadows. A man who could kill with a whispered word. A man who found salvation in the goodness of others, a man who changed his heart, and then gave it away in so many ways. This day, however, he gave more than that.

    He gave his life.

    Ronan's petitions to the Furies was heard, Ronan's pleas to the Goodly Gods of nature was considered, and then his life force, probably one of the more powerful things that Narfell and it's lands and peoples has -ever- seen, infused us, and we rose up anew, all the while the ritual was losing control.

    You don't just -drop- a great magic. We couldn't let it linger, or shut itself down, the consequences would make our particular plight pale in comparison.

    We picked up, dusted off, and made a decision, one which brought me a great deal of shame, and changed my life utterly from that moment forth.

    Ignoring evil doesn't make it go away, and as real as evil is, some of it has a place. Period. If we KILLED Auril, winter would have no hold upon it, or would just go away, for example. Both, would result in, basically, the end of Toril. It sounds dramatic, but such things are on my mind often now, now that I see the bigger picture.

    We resumed the ritual, and invoked the furies too, asking for their aid in the machination we were to put forth, and their stayed hand and forgiveness for our ignorant slight.

    That day, the Rawlins exploded.

    The forest outgrew its bounds. It's beasts and creatures ripped apart anything that did not belong. Winds ripped trees from their roots, fire and lightning pelted the earth from the sky, and ice crashed down on everything, then washed away with everything else under the downpour that rushed from the sky to the earth in waves greater than any sea.

    The demon portal was broken, and now the land needed healing, but in such a task, much power was needed. Right?

    I cannot help but think if we had simply had a better grasp of the power we wielded, would things have been less destructive?

    I think on this often, now.

    Here I sit, atop my lofty perch. I can close my eyes, and see Peltarch.

    I can bring rain, or snow, and I can move leaves for a shy scout to read, to say hello, and bid her grant me a favor that I don't deserve while she walks innocently through Norwick.

    I can push snow around with winds at a convoluted attempt at writing, and answer the questions of an inquisitive bardess who seems intent on learning something about me.

    I nearly hurt people doing it.

    There's SO much power here, that it makes our ritual in the glen seem like a normal casting. The elements converge here in their own ways, and when I sleep, or what passes for it, I look in on What Was, here. It chills my heart. This place has always been a bringer of disasters untold.

    The times between? Parties lay in wait for their chance at it. It's no true peace, it's a breath between shouts that render stone to sand, and men to ash.

    I had to break that cycle.

    I see how easy it was, now, though. To overreach, to strain oneself. It reminds me of combat training with the Legion, and some advice I was given. "Know these two limits. There is the limit of self. Know what you are capable of, and do not overstep it, for when you do, you risk death. " Also, "Know the limits of your weapon. Care for it. If your limits are greater than those of your weapon, you need to know when to step back until both are equal to the task."

    I'm not ready for any more great workings, yet.

    The weather was returned to a semblance of normalcy so soon, only because Silvanus was bid to aid us in our wishes, for our prize of taking the mountain.

    I paid attention, but I am no God. I'm a mortal in nearly every way, save what Titania took from me, and what Silvanus has given back, and then some.

    I have lost a lot in my gains, however. I grow sad in the writing, however, so I must take a break. I don't want it to rain in Praka because I am getting emotional, that's hardly fair. Perhaps I'll pick this up again soon, but knowing me, probably not.

    Whims are like wind. Thankfully ... I've no shortage of time for them. Not any more. Not ever again.

    Not for me._


  • _I received a letter today, after writing one in regards to somebody asking the aid of a Druid on the notice board in town. Apparently Marty is helping the young lady in need, but she would let me know if more help was needed.

    I hope she finds what she seeks.

    It still surprises me to see a mage "Riding" a familiar. The animal is sometimes there, sometimes not, often more or less … both. Her messenger was polite, and seemed happy enough, so I suspect that whatever the issue is, Marty has it well in hand.

    With the disappearance of the Hoarans, I find myself conflicted. Did something else spirit them away, that we need to be aware of, and ready to face? Is it safe to re-settle there? It would be nice to see Rom and adventurers there again, but not at the cost of any of them.

    I think it's time my friends and I took a little walk..._


  • _Well hells and damnation.

    Apparently, if rumors are to be believed, the bugbears are now looking for "The Sword of Jerrick."

    Alright, I regularly carry about four. Which one do they mean? The Ogre Stoneblade left for me by Telli? The Laughing Blade given to be my the dragon for the return of it's elder's tooth that I was using as a sword? It could also be my plain iron scimitar, or the Lost City one.

    Regardless, they'll have to do their damned best to get hold of me, and even harder to take these weapons. Any of them. I've gone through too much with them, and in the case of the laughing blade, relied too much on it, to let those moronic furballs take them.

    I've also seen the last signs of the system I set up a while ago, crumble. It's back to the forefront with me I guess. At least the girls are of an age to understand now, which was the important thing I was waiting for. I suppose the timing all works, as it usually does.

    Still, whenever I come back is generally when things tend to fall apart at the seams. Me and my timing…_


  • _I will be the first to admit, that I have ever been a bit of a sucker for lost causes. Over the years, I've even been able to temper my anger into resolve, and my ambition into something resembling compassion and maturity where I would have previously favored a bladed solution.

    Years past, when I took down a white dragonet in an aerial battle, lightning flashing between the both of us, and me dashing him to the ground, I decided to spare him. We had been having trouble with the Dracolich and the Hungry One, and I had hoped to save him and give him to Auril in a fashion such as in protection of one of her holy places, to prevent further perversion of her domains. Balance, yet again, was my goal.

    I have been away from the den, away from battle, and away from politics to help with the raising of my daughters, and to ensure they have a living breathing father to learn from.

    Ky, the dragonet, is growing. He has been harassing my den-mates, and could very well put them, and others in danger at this point.

    If a decision does not present itself soon, I will simply have to end what I perhaps should have ended years ago. It's an evil creature, right?

    Why does this bother me so much?_


  • _This, I simply HAVE to write down.

    First, the fey seem to be causing issues, and sending Winter Wolves to harass the town, as well as causing it to snow again as far as Norwick, and south of it. There seemed to be a fresh snowfall, and an ominous feeling in the air… so I went to explore, and ended up running into a Winter Wolf, while in the form of one myself.

    I challenged it, to which it tucked tail and ran after issuing the first growl. At least the fey don't seem to have superior powers of domination over mortal animals. Simpler minds likely find their complex thoughts a little too cloudy, or something.

    At any rate, the only reason I KNEW there were Winter Wolves being used, was by sitting at the gate-fire with my Winter Wolf head in a pretty bardess's lap. A couple of so-called Purple Dragon knights, or rather one and his squire decided to flip out, and be ready to slay me, calling me Demon and worse.

    Now. I admit to giving them reason to think that, because I didn't like their walking into a calm situation and inflaming it coarsely, with no observation to what was going on.

    Clearly there was an explanation that needed no threats, but since they started in a hostile manner... I spoke. Since Worgs and Winter Wolves can speak common, I too can manipulate my voice in those shapes to speak the language.

    We must have messed with them for close to an hour, with a Norwick greencloak even adding to the fun.

    They left the gate shortly thereafter, before I saw the other Winter Wolf, and I hear rumor that they were in the bloody sacks that Locrian brought back into town.

    Someone actually asked if I had done it.

    I suppose I may have deserved that in a way, and it makes me think two things.

    One... apparently people are still at least wary of me, which doesn't surprise me given my open association with the Furies as well as every nature deity...

    Two ... I kind of like it that way.

    Now, off to go see if I can find another fey to capture and get information from. This time, I have my Iron Blade. This should be fun._


  • _The nighttime insects are singing.

    To my left, I hear a rustle, and a deer looks right through me, sees that it is 'safe,' and leads her young out to graze by the lake. Goblins are sleeping where they were standing previously, some as the result of my sleep spell, others simply because they are tired… and goblins.

    A fish leaps out of the water, startling the deer, and they skitter away for several minutes before returning to eat and drink as if nothing ever happened.

    I see no sign of fey stirrings, nor armies on the march, or anything of the sort. It's not that I want a fight... more or less. I simply wish I had the old knack I used to. Being in the right place at the right time. heading off disaster. Being -involved-. It's slow going, but I am sure I'll retake my usual place in things and be useful again. For now, the solitude is helping me keep my edge. Lorelai understands. I think.

    I am sure she's seen my restlessness. She was happy to see me out and about, instead of hovering overprotectively around the girls and shirking all else.

    Was I ready for children? No, not really. I wanted to wait. I wanted to give her that wedding, first. Am I happy anyway? Deliriously so. In fact, I'm downright excited to see two young people grow, and learn, and play, and become bigger versions of themselves. Elaine and Leena are lights in my life, like Lorelai. To focus more on the tasks at hand, I need nights like tonight.

    Darkness helps.

    Light is distracting, after all.

    Speaking of lights... what the hell was that? I could have sworn I saw a light across the lake. Green? Time to cast my usual protections, and go take a look. This might be what I was waiting for._


  • _Sometimes routine can bring comfort. Even days in a cave full of angry ogres with a proliferation of caster-types, no less, brought me a sense of calm and routine tension that felt… natural again.

    Even Rasuil commented that my skills are still sharp, which I appreciated. My scimitars bit into the right places over and over again, unerring and true, as they did previously. A seeming glancing blow cut deep here, a too-hurried thrust struck true. Gnolls and ogres stood no chance against the group of Z, Ginger, Rasuil, and others with me, as I tagged along on their crafting expedition. Silver, Gold, even Opal were found. I hear Maythor will be pleased about the Opal.

    There are things that I need to explore, and a dragon I need to go talk to, and keep a much closer eye on, now. There are people who I need to spend time with, and at least one that I need to be careful around, too.

    If I'm lucky, I'll even get some time to know the folks who I've been seeing around more, this Moon and Kiana. I'm sure I'll happen across them soon.

    For now, lunch._


  • _It's a little strange. Despite changes I can see in everybody, they're mostly the same. Taking the time to be quiet, and watch the others is … entertaining. Informative. Comfortable. Encouraging.

    It's nice to know that even between my visits to Avalon, and the rest of my time being solely taking care of the girls, that I'm still the same Jerrick to all the people who matter most to me.

    Thorn even made me feel right at home being myself by tying me to five beautiful women, to the complaint of none. Though... well, he DID get dunked into the water, and ... er... aroused by Albryanna is a rather cruel and entertaining fashion.

    Yes, I wrote Albryanna. She's ... different, despite being the same. It's like the Albryanna that -nobody- knows is now on the surface. What brought that about?

    It's definitely time for a talk... though I may want to do so someplace where I can't be dragged off forcibly. She's as strong as ever...

    I miss writing like this, laughing to myself in my home. The girls hardly pay attention to me these days, I think they're finding their independence. Daddy is only important to Leena when he's showing her how to shoot her tiny bow (Sorry Benji) and Xixia is trying to tell Leena how to do it, despite never having held a bow, nor shown the desire to yet.

    It's cute. I can't keep Leena out of trouble, and despite Xixia always trying to 'be the boss' or the 'leader,' she never stops Leena from getting into everything, either. It's adorable beyond words. Those kittens are a handful, but I've finally found that I'm a passable father, and found my comfort in it.

    I was afraid for years. Terrified. Everybody I've ever been with has known that I fear fatherhood, that I worry about my responsibilities to everything I'm involved in taking over, or about dying and not being there for them when they need me most.

    I've taken years to settle myself, do what I need to do, and nothing has fallen apart without me. I never thought it would, despite what some of the Wolves said, and others. Does that mean I can keep shirking those responsibilities? The fact that I wake up in the middle of the night to go clean and sharpen my already pristine weapons, and oil my already perfectly cared for armor says no. My blood is up. I'm being called.

    Ever since the rescue of Val, I have been worried about getting in over my head like that again, seeing my friends fall around me and not being able to turn back, then having to barter for their bodies. . . I admit that shook me a bit much. Hells, my body was part of that.

    I'm not as strong as I was, but I've come to the conclusion that being a good father is more than one part. Yes, being here is important, but there are threats that will find me at home if I don't go meet them out there.

    Lorelai, I know you've always said you support me however I choose to balance things. I hope I continue to make you proud. Not just for the girls, but for us. Now, it's time to go look into a few disturbing rumors I've heard..._


  • _I hate it when enough, is at the same time, enough and yes still not enough. Personally, that is. I need to quit confusing myself and write plainly…

    We got Val back. It ended up taking Shannon and Ronan retreating, and Ronan turning into a dragon, but it was enough.

    It also took the death of every other member of our party to do it.

    I am weaker for it. I am glad I did it, but I cannot stop the thoughts that consume my idle mind. I have less strength to protect my family now.

    Treacherous thoughts. Selfish thoughts. Jealous thoughts.

    We got Val back. Troff's all consuming desire. We got her back, and the shit decided to stay dead, moaning about defeat. Yeah, Troff. I'd never say it, but I know how you feel. It's never enough. I get it. Believe me, I get it. I've tasted the sand of the fugue many more times than you have. I've made deals with succubi, spoken with Avatars of Gods, my own and others, and turned down offers of power.

    I've even been forcibly ripped out of the fugue, rather than restored the traditional way. Somebody cheated, and I got a get-out-of-death-free pass from my Goddess. I am lucky beyond words or measure, but to what end?

    Really, I get it. I have less power at my disposal to protect the girls now, for someone else. Less power to help Thorn with this vision he's being plagued with. Less power to protect my mentor and friend. Less power to protect the grove.

    I ventured out of the house because I figured I was needed, and that it would help, and that the girls would be safe enough in the care of others while I return to the world of the constant risk of death.

    Somehow, I'm not surprised this happened. I'm also not going to quit. If for nothing else, so that Troff's ghost can look on the rest of us, and see what he did wrong.

    For a Lathanderite, he sure loses sight of the light a lot...

    I won't. And I'll push these selfish thoughts aside, too. There's work to do._


  • _Being bitten? I was expecting that.

    The bottles on the ladder? The scent on them? The track? Okay, I can kind of expect that.

    The feeling that it's time to unpack the blades again, clean off the armor, and make the enemies of the land feel cold and fleeting fear again at every shadow in the trees?

    It's back.

    I'll need to get Caelian and the others to help me with the kittens. I'll need to renew the wards on the house, and I'll need to put my ear to the ground once more, dust off reports, and get back to work. I love the kittens, and will be here as much as possible, but the scent on those bottles reminds me. There are those out there who need me as much as the girls, and the girls are past the point of complete helplessness. They know how to run, they know how to hide. If worst comes to worst, they'll have time to flee the house.

    No thinking on that. Not now.

    Lorie's out. Tindra too of course… I wish we'd made progress on the split, but everybody seems to have taken a break on that. It's stressful to think about, and I understand.

    Here I come. And yes, Brendel. I'm coming for you first._


  • _Quiet.

    Somehow the mewling of children, the occasional screams, all of it is like birdsong to me when I get to hear them giggle, or sigh happily.

    Quiet.

    I haven't heard the clash of swords for days.

    Quiet.

    I've hunted carefully, quickly, and quietly, and been able to avoid battle lately. I don't want the smell of battle known to the children yet. People give not nearly enough credit to the senses of other people, let alone children.

    This is my time.

    Quiet.

    The den is quiet, Lorelindra is off spending time with Rith, who I hear returned. I've got the kids settled down, and Leena is playing with Fayt's tail. He never seems to mind. He too, is quiet.

    There is growth in battle. There is growth after a forest fire. There is growth below the soil where it is seldom seen. There is also growth in reflection. I have grown as I watch my girls grow. I am more than I once was.

    I think quiet thoughts, spend quiet time with my love, and her other half, who I also love. Not in the same way of course, but it's impossible to treat them both completely differently. I couldn't do that even if they were separate. It's strange, but comforting.

    She should be back soon. I think I'll bring back some apples while I'm out. The girls love them, and I think I might make some spiced cider for the other girls, too.

    Mielikki grant me the ability to be quiet, in body, mind, and spirit._


  • _It's official. I am a father. Xixia and Leena, twin daughters, and both taking after me for hair and eyes.

    I hope they get their mothers actual looks…

    Another entry comes shortly thereafter…

    _I eventually left the cocoon of the Chauntean Temple, and noticed Hess and his faithful companion Ehto sitting near the entrance to the treehouse.

    Hess brightened and stood as he saw me and held his hands up for me to stop, lest I tread on something important.

    He then lead me over to a small green growth near the entrance of the clearing where the campfire is. About 30 feet away, Ehto stood guard over a similar small growth. Each small sapling had a small stone next to it. One simply has the Elvish letter E etched into it, the other L.

    Hess spoke;

    _I've planted two willow trees here, Jerrick. I found the twin seeds together… attached as some tree seeds are, on the same day your twins were born. With Fadia's help and blessing, we planted them here at the entrance to your home, each labeled for your daughters with these small stones.

    Ehto and I have been standing watch over them, lest a hungry deer or rabbit chomp them down. I've asked Sylvanus's help to guide these trees--and your daughters--to long, healthy, and prosperous lives.

    I do not have much coin, so I thought this was an appropriate gift. I hope it is OK with you that I have planted them here. Willows are my favorite of all trees.

    Hess closed his eyes and sang in a pleasant, quiet voice:

    _Willow bending in the breeze
    With leaves of slender green
    You stand apart from other trees
    Your sadness can be seen

    I hear you rustle in the wind
    Your branches shake and shiver
    And every time those branches bend
    The silver blades do quiver

    To hold firm when you're tempest tossed
    And harsh winds blow your way
    You stand steadfast despite the cost
    Your roots deep in the clay

    And when they cut your branches down
    And your trunk is brown and bare
    You send bright threads of green around
    And never once despair

    I've seen you branch less in the night
    A Venus without arms
    In one month's time a welcome sight
    You back with all your charms

    My mother used to sing that song. Our grove had one magnificent willow tree. It was always her favorite, and mine.

    I couldn't thank him enough, but I hope he understood my gratitude. I cannot wait to tell the girls the stories of these trees! I am certain that their mother will be thrilled as well.____


  • _Worst. Present. Ever.

    Next time Thorn hands be a box, it had better be full of Silver Valley Pastries or something, because this… this makes me incredibly angry.

    A lock of her hair. Blue. Her lip ring. A Wolf Fang. And the Maskarran symbol that is already familiar to me and the others. This was supposed to be able to show her a new way, that life didn't have to be shadows and secrets.

    Now something has taken her, and it's something intelligent enough to not only know where to send it, but how to shake us.

    I've seen body parts sent before. I'm not scared. I am however, very, very, angry.

    I am not sure whether or not to expect a mage who has a block against scrying up, and is simply being very cocky, or a moron who thought sending a lock of her hair was smart. Or even someone expecting one of US to come... most likely Rasuil, with a trap at the read... Oh shit.

    I think I know.

    The journal is tossed aside in a hurry, and left on the ground in his house. Whoever visits the house on RL Wed. October 27th may find it and read it if they have a key, and want to happen across it._


  • The familiar writing that fills the pages is black this time, apparently done with his coal-stick, which is actually a branch subjected to 'warp wood' with a thin line of coal and something to bond it inside. Apparently more portable than an inkpot.

    _It's times like these that I not only live for, but fight for. Ironic that I didn't participate in the fight night games past some heckling and cheering. As I sit, Cherry and Aramuil are nearby, as are Fadia and Lune. Fadia is cheerful, and Lune is confident and brightly smiling as usual. Ronan's here too, and Lorelai is of course, cuddled up against me on my soft cloak. Rith was here during the first few events, but has wandered off. I hope she's alright.

    I managed to convince Lorelai to wear one of her outfits. She's showing now, and talk has of course gone to recipes for the strict wife that I'm apparently supposed to fear, baby names, and even whether or not we'll have a were-cat baby. Frankly, I'm prepared for whatever comes.

    Well, I hope anyway.

    I'm comfortable in my life. I'm comfortable with the people around me. It seems we have indeed "Banished Misfortune," though I was not in the middle of it at the end, as I rather expected to be. I'm rather glad I wasn't. It's funny talking about luck in the same page as all this, but mine hasn't seemed up to par lately in crucial moments, so I'm glad I was at home where it matters, ensuring Lorelai's safety. I am more than slightly expecting a visit from a certain enchantress of the non-light variety again, and am always prepared to run with the girls, even if I need to hold off the enchantress myself.

    Troff came over, and smiled.

    I'm really pleased to see that. When he asked how we were, I puposely avoided asking him how he was, but enjoyed conversing like we used to. He's good company, it's just hard to talk about difficult situations with him, the personal type.

    Lorelai is yawning her pretty little nose off over here, so I think I'm going to pick her up, and take her someplace comfy for a cat-nap, and then go take a walk about my woods. No sense in being lax now, as other threats always fill in a power vaccuum. In a hurry, too.

    I think next stop… elf camp._


  • _Well that was close.

    I like bars. Ale, conversation, a cheery fire during a cool evening. It's all nice. The other bars? The vertical ones? The ones that taint you, keep you from freedom, and remind you of wrongdoing or simple misunderstanding … those I don't care for quite so much.

    I was never made out for this kind of stuff, but it seems to find me anyhow. I was also not made for diplomacy, but Fadia fixed that, too. Unfortunately, while I can argue with a Dire Bear or Tiger, and make them pause to listen, the same cannot be said for Zealots.

    Being barred from a temple is one thing. I can understand that. I trod on toes, speak out openly, and know well enough that people listen to me. Even to the point of following orders in a town I have no authority in. That could make me a nuisance, even dangerous. Sure, I'll pretend that makes sense long enough to smile and nod vacantly.

    Barring my entire circle? That's another matter entirely. I keep hearing questions, little updates, the like. It's enough to make that old rage surface again, the one that makes me want teeth and fur and a pack to circle with... but I push that back as always. Calm. Collected. These are my thoughts, this is my soul. Mine. I will not give in to weakness, temptation, or fear. Especially not fear.

    I am friend. I am mentor. I am companion. I will be husband. I will be father. Hells, maybe I'll be grandfather some day. I will not be weak. I will not be quiet. I may be misunderstood, but it will not be for lack of my own explanation.

    It's days like this I want to take all the Druids to someplace else for a month of two, and let the balance sort itself around Narfell, until somebody came and asked us to return to our duties. If the possible loss of life was worth it, I would even entertain the idea... but those are cruel thoughts, and I will treat with them no more.

    Happier thoughts.

    My apprentice is progressing well. He asks questions and takes the answers to heart. His meet with the Elders was admirable, too. I've passed on some of the gear and artifacts that I keep for the purpose of training apprentices with ... hopefully one who can replace me in time if I fall. So far, he seems like a good choice.

    I was nearly killed twice, and both very recently, yet somehow I clung to life on one occasion, and the other Mielikki picked me back up. I needs be more careful if I'm to continue teaching him. If I'm to finally be married. If I'm to finally be a father.

    I should get some sleep. She's so peaceful lately, I almost forget about the nightmares that used to be there. I hope she has too._


  • _So much to write about, so much to do, so much that's been done.

    I suppose I can skip a few details of arguments, fights, bad feelings and other unfortunate business. So far 'Misfortune' takes precedece anyhow, at least in the immediate take of things. It still sits behind a few other things though.

    I forgot how exhilirating enchanting could be. I think it's complete. I need to see if it holds together in the morning, as my stitchwork is capable, but by no means a master's work. It's a good thing the one thing I could work like a master, WAS a belt.

    Lorelai is healthy, and she and Tindra seem mostly happy from what Lorelai tells me. Sure they argue once in a while about who comes forward, and when, but I've stayed out of that except to ask for Lorelai to be with me tomorrow night. I plan on taking her someplace she's not been lately, to the woods near the Gypsy Camp.

    I'll be avoiding Hoarans of course, and it'll be a fight getting there, but I remember a pretty place that we can go to. I can't wait to give this to her…

    On a similar note of excitement, I have a new friend.

    Arthro.

    Yeah, the Arthro of yore, the Druid-Hunting Malarite of exceeding nastiness, and ally of the Defiler. In our world, anyway.

    In his original world/existance/plane, he was a Malarite, once. He was reformed by Eluriel before she went bad, and was a Wolf with Eluriel and I, and now a follower of Gwaeron.

    Poor guy spent most of his recent time here being chased by Darya and Bonegnasher, so I had to take some pretty decisive action to ensure his safety, and now the Circle is quite assured of his trustworthiness. I'm just worried if he'll ever be able to go back.

    Two theories exist so far.

    Leaving Peltarch, the place where he 'came' here from, moved him away from the source of whatever brought him over, and he cannot return until he returns to that.

    The link to get him back is severed somehow. We have eben less details to support this, but like the other, it's entirely possible. We may eventually find a way to test it. Hells, we may have to try Thorn's portal sword, or Ansible, or whatever it's called. Knowing him, he probably calls it "Swordy."

    At any rate, time to go for a run, and see what my apprentice is up to. Hess got my letter, and we've communicated with that so far. I feel like a lousy Mentor sometimes, but he knew how into things I get, so hopefully he's not too disappointed yet.

    I plan on finding him soon, too.

    So much to do... and that stupid fey in the soulstone needs to quit staring at me. I can feel it..._


  • _It's over.

    I say that in a way that makes my own words echo around the room and turn it into a laugh, of course. It's both a happy laugh, and a haunting one.

    It's over. The fight against the nightmares, the influence of the fey that it turns out he didn't intend. The thing that made the nightmares stick to Lorie as well as Tindra was just that she was simply too alike. She became like Tindra, and the nightmares focused on her too.

    Now… I've got them. This little stone, a little willpower, and a little fey influence from him accepting the words to my duel. Now I have him.

    I spent too much time in faerie to have pity for a fey who would torment a soul on the behest of another, in exchange for a firstborn. He is powerful, but foolish. He didn't ask what weapon I was using, so I took iron to him. He didn't take time to spell himself up, merely said "En guarde" and took me on. He didn't ask if magic was allowed, or state anything to the fact, so we both used it, but his spells fizzled against my protections. Now he is mine. He's going to work for the rest of my life as whatever I wish him for. I'll turn his power to MY goals. I'll undo what he's done, and make sure the girls never have cause to have a bad dream again.

    And the same with my child.

    I don't have words for this that make sense. I wasn't sure I ever wanted to be a father, and I thought Lorelai has been taking preventative measures... but she IS a werecat. I didn't think about what that might change. I could dig into the subject, find out exactly how it happened, but there's no point.

    I'm actually... glad.

    Sure it's awkward to have Tindra come 'forward' back into her own body... and be carrying my child but, strangely enough she doesn't seem to mind. Now we need to find Andu.

    In the back of my mind I worry, too. I had may as well write this down. I worry a little about what the girls will decide on. Rith was stressed, she wants her Lorelai to stay, but I pressed the point that the whole reason I did ANY of this, learned how to get into her mind and dreams, learned how to take others there, and took the massive risks we all did, was to get them back in communication with one another, so they can speak.

    From what I understand... they could only speak through notes left for the other in the real world, seen when they wake. What we did brought them both onto the same plane of consciousness, I believe. It may cause some problems, or it may be perfect. I don't know though...

    I'll know soon enough.

    Gods I'm a Dad...Mielikki grant me wisdom, patience, and strength to face my fear._


  • _The past and I are no strangers. Of course I existed in the past, giving me at least some passing familiarity with it, I mean it in a more literal sense. For years, no, decades … I really lived in the past. I clung desperately to it, like a child. I probably have abandonement issues, or something similar. I can't stand to listen to people who make that kind of thing up, personal philosophers if you will, but I think in this case they may have had me pegged correctly.

    Boy would this throw them off.

    I was buying potiosn with the guys, all of us in the temple of the Triad in Peltarch. Then we were in the temple as it was years ago. Daisy was glowing, holding up wards of some sort, and the entire building was the shape that it had before the war. And ... yeah, during the war. Wonderful.

    One of the older knights challenged us, demanding to know who we were, as if he didn't see is come in. He didn't, of course. We appeared. I explained that I was Jerrick of the Rawlins, and these were my Wolves, and though apprehensive, he didn't attack. Instead he bid us leave, and if we wanted to be useful, go help the fighters at the West Gate.

    Long story short, we ended up there, after being pummeled by flaming ordinance from Strauss Organs, and ended up fighting armatures and N'jast soldiers. Ye GODS this is easier now than it was then. Just... wow. We destroyed them, with the help of some Legion soldiers that showed up late in the fighting.

    We talked for a while... only to find a not very surprised guard looking at us, back at the present day West Gate.

    We were physically moved.

    Weird...

    At any rate, it made me think of the past as a thing I can't get away from, but also as something that exists whether I pay attention to it or not.

    That's right. The past exists.

    I don't have to live my present while staring at it though._