3. The Journal of Jerrick Rayfe

The Journal of Jerrick Rayfe


  • _At this rate, I'm going to run out of ink.

    I walked a while after I wrote last… and I found myself shaking. Go figure. I can barely write this properly. I am no seer, or wise old sage. I don't know how to approach things like this, like being gripped with overwhelming fear and doubt, especially when it sneaks up and slaps me like this.

    She's back.. the Dark Enchantress. Thankfully she seems to pay me little enough heed, or at least she did just that when I saw her in the inn... but she's stated that she wants Lorelai back. Her "Kitty." MY kitty.

    So many have tried to fight this broad. So many have failed. What the HELL am I supposed to be able to do? I know I don't stand a chance. I can hurl ice and lightning, arrows and insults, and I doubt any of it would do me any good at all whatsoever.

    I have to do -something.- Perhaps I can beat her to it. I need to gather everyone, and I need to gather them fast. We need to go in, free Tindra, and get her and Lorelai accquainted once more so that they can work things out.

    I'm ... I'm assuming so much. I'm assuming this will work. I'm assuming we'll all be able to get there at the same time, and in time. I'm assuming that I'm doing thei right, and that my plans will work. Assume assume assume. I'm starting a dangerous trend, here. Is that why I can't shake this fear?

    I will move the land itself for Lorelai. Rend the skies, and call the Gods themselves to aid me, to help her. I will kill, and I will heal. I will fight, and I will talk and compromise. I will do anything that needs done to keep her safe... just for the chance to keep -her-. Please Mielikki... help. I have no right to ask after all you've already done for me, but I fear what may happen if I fail. Please. Help._


  • _Many things lead to drinking. Drinking elads to shenanigans. Shenanigans lead to ideas. Ideas lead to the dark side.

    And by dark, I mean dark rooms, dark sheets, dark piles of clothing on the floor. Also, dark smiles of strange women who comes outside to brag that they tied a fellow to a bed while he was passed out… who happened to be Vash't.

    Wasn't that a surprise. Well... to be honest with myself, it wasn't much of one. Not everyone in the room has a body that refuses to be affected heavily by poisons, and therefore alcohol... and there was a LOT of alcohol. I made my way to the room I suspected had my friends in it, and upon opening it, was greeted with... well, my friends.

    And dark piles of clothes on the floor.

    Fadia and Rith naked on (partially?) one bed, Vash't nearby tied securly to a bed. No evidence of anything actually having 'happened', but I wasn't going to go investigating closely, either. I cut the rope around his wrist, and stayed a moment to write him a quick little note. I left it in his new 'bracelet', and covered him with blankets. I did the same with the girls. I left.

    You know, my biggest worry used to be being alone, being rejected, being tossed out by the people I was supposed to be a part of. I don't want the past to happen again, and it's plagued me off and on for years. I think it's a major part of the reason I'm so mad at Ronan. He's judgemental like an elf. I didn't -do- anything to earn their ire, I simply was born as I am. In this case, things happened in every case that I had little to no control over.

    The least I can do is control a little of what happens in my friends lives. Even if that means affording them a little sheet-shaped dignity, and cutting a rope... it's something. I don't want any of this to make us fall out with one another, and it seems to have worked out since.

    Aww, Lorelai is purring in her sleep. It's about time. I hate seeing her have those nightmares. It helps when I rub her back like I do between thoughts, between refilling my quill. It's amazing what a simple touch can do.

    If only everything were this easy.

    Fadia seems to have known Tindra. Not Lorelai so much, but Tindra. I'll ask her to come too. Time grows short with the enchantress near. Here's the list. Don't forget it, jackass.

    Me. Thorn. Rith. Fadia. Magic and Blade. Blades and stealth. Divine power and shield. Knowledge of Tindra and magic and skill. With all of our skillsets and gifts, and my knowledge of the fey oaths ... will we be able to properly help Lorelai? Gods I hope so. I'm also terrified.

    What happens when I meet Tindra?

    I was less scared of the Dracolich... and that was terrifying._


  • _Celad was fired. Asked Dwin if anyone was above the law, to which Dwin said, "No." Celad apparently said Dwin was under arrest then, for assaulting Brendel, and Dwin gave the reply I thought he would.

    "I am the law."

    Needless to say, he fired Celad. He didn't ask the commander of the Militia to deal with it. He didn't explain, or apologize. One more bit of proof that this proposed 'talk' is a mummer show, with poorly trained mummers to boot.

    Oh, this stew is thickening to the consistency of what Dwarves call soup. Now, to go find Celad. And Clayton. And Caelisar._

    (Scribbled note)

    _Celad. Act Two.

    Will -she- be page three? Oh, this is getting good._


  • _It's been a while since I've written.

    Right now, I sit in the room that my love and I shared not even half a day ago. I made it ouft of the room for … ohh, about two or three hours, before I was called in for "Circle Business."

    Dwin seems to think that going to one of my close friends, and asking her to "Mediate" between him and the circle, will help him seem favorable and friendly, like a benevolent and compassionate leader who only wants the best for his people and their allies.

    Dwin seems to think that somehow, the Circle's relationship with Norwick has been damaged by his brash and moronic actions.

    Dwin seems to think... that he IS Norwick. Norwick is a place, and it's people. The figurehead at the top is hardly the town itself, and just because he knows a certain few influential woodsfolk are pissed at him, he wants to make amends, and amendments. Change laws, go over them with the neighbors, even offer recompense.

    I've even heard suggestions that he wants to know how to make this 'right' again. What's he going to do, offer a hand? I don't want his damned hand, neither does Brendel, nor does anybody who actually gives a shit about this little fiasco.

    If it were about giving something back, this would be pointless. This "Eye for an eye" mentality would leave all of Narfell blind. I won't have it, and neither will anyone who stands with me.

    I was asked, "Is this really bad enough to try to get rid of him for?"

    If this isn't... what the hell is? Was leaving someone unclothed and uncared for in a cell, with an open wound where his hand was, to die... ALMOST enough? Does someone actually have to DIE to prove that this is no way for someone responsible for so many lives, to act?

    What then? Say someone dies. What if that's not enough. Does it need to wait for the next person not to answer the call of a priest or their God, to make it a crime worth tossing him out on his ass for?

    I am a leader because I speak out, and because I lead from the front. I am a leader not just because of my actions, but because of WHY I do them. Some people don't care what a leader does, or what it's for, so long as the reason behind it is sound, and will follow a man to the ends of the lands. Not only that, but they will then ask how to build a boat so that they can go farther than the lands themselves for him.

    I don't see myself as that kind of leader, but I aspire to be, if that is what is needed. I wonder what Dwin's reason is._


  • (An event as it happened: This is not written, but merely recorded here for 'the record' so to speak. )

    The taller grasses whipped at the sensitive pink nose rushing through them at breakneck speed. The pink nose would have been cute, all whiskered and prone to twitching at interesting smells in an adorable fashion, had it not been for the armor-like places on the face of the cat attached to it.

    Up from the nose and down the head and back, the familiar tell-tale markings of a dire-tiger would have clued in anybody unfamiliar with the striped beast with the sabre-like fangs, that it could be trouble.

    This one, however… ignored everything it passed. Trees, shrubs, surprised prey-animals, even travelers were left unmolested, and possibly rather confused as the great beast ran for the treeline, and then alongside it, heading to one of the major roads our of Narfell... before disappearing into a copse of trees entirely.

    Moving -through- the woods was more difficult for a Tiger... that was best for crossing plains and fields. The deer that now bounded rapidly and efortlessly through the brush was a different story though. He bounced along as fast as he could, glancing through the trees to the road just barely visible through them once or twice, and caught a view of what he was looking for... something shiny.

    He passed it without another glance, hitting another field, and shifting into a hawk to find a suitable place for his task. Of course... that one would do nicely.

    It's not hard to find a copse of fallen trees when you know where to look from the sky. it's even easier to move them as a Dire bear, to the middle of the road where you want them, and set up a barricade of sorts. What is -not- easy, is thinking up a clever couple words to shape said logs into with magic, before the target walks up on them. Somehow... Jerrick managed.

    With a thankful prayer to Mielikki for his gifts, and thought upon his task, Jerrick shapes the wood using a spell known as "warp wood", into a simple message. Perhaps the blonde traveller would see it... perhaps she was too hung over, and might run into it?

    He chuckled to himself, and sat behind the structure to rest. And wait. Yes, it was his turn to wait this time, wasn't it? The man removes some jerky from his pouch and waits, chewing throughtfully, and hopes that a pillar of fire from the sky doesn't take the barrier before it's read.

    Hope. That's what this was all about, wasn't it?


  • _Came home to a letter under my door… and she's gone. Rith left, headed back to her supposed 'duty' that has nothing to do with her God, and everything to do with men who speak for that God.

    Her scent is still on the letter, it was left only hours ag-

    A hasty scrawl and a large blot of ink where the quill was left to rest, indicate… well, the only thing a reader can tell is that the quill was set down and left to bleed ink upon the page. Why, though?_


  • _A transcript, for posterity.

    "Hi Dwin. Catch." I told him, when I met him sitting at the fire in Norwick. He missed, but soon picked up the shiny things I tossed to him, the Chancellor in his armor, offering his sage words of advice to someone as I approached.

    "Hold them up to each other, and tell me what you see." I say, and he does so, as instructed. I continued, "Do you see two hands both holding objects with no difficulty, despite the fact that you have disagreed with somebody before?

    "Eh?" his eloquent reply.

    I waited for him to catch on, content to do so until he did, or spoke, which of course he did. Sadly, the answer left me unsurprised.

    "You for a point to make here Jerrick? Or are you riddle-making?" said the Chancellor in question, watching me curiously, still holding his gems.

    "It all depends if you're clever enough to realize that I disagree with your decision, and am calling you out on it." I replied without hesitation. This much, I expected.

    "I appreciate your input, Jerrick. " A pause, and then all the confirmation I needed. "What's done is done."

    I felt to be fair, I must confirm it with him, and nodded in agreement. "Sure is. And cannot be undone, or condoned. Nice having this talk"

    "Did we have a talk, Jerrick?"

    I lifted my hand to wave, then waved deliberately with the other hand as well. "Oh yes, we did. "

    He didn't pause long, before making his statement. It was hardly even a question, and he left room for me to speak, so I did.

    "I thought we were better friends than this…"
    "Yeah. Me too."
    "So, what do you want me to do?" he asked. "What is your sagely advice, Jerrick of the woods?"

    That, made me laugh as I gave my reply. I likely should have left by now, but damn if it didn't feel like Tymora was beckoning me.

    "Nothing. It's -exactly- as you said, Dwin, Chancellor of his own realm. What's done... is done. Thank you for your esteemed time."

    I bowed low to the ground, and he spoke more clearly then, and demanded the same of me.

    "Speak your mind, Jerrick."
    "Don't hide behind this acting."
    "If you have something to say, say it."

    I had a reply, as always, though that lucky feeling was swiftly moving away.

    "I did, and managed not to be threatened with arrest for it. I'll fold my cards while I am lucky."
    I waved then... might as well fan the fire I lit behind myself, if the keg I spoke to was half as dangerously unpredictable as he's shown he can be... at the moment.

    "You don't serve me." His parting words.

    Frankly? I'd hardly ever heard better... Maybe he'll get used to saying it soon. Time will tell._


  • _Loyalties.

    They change.

    They have secrets.

    They have… conditions.

    I question mine, now.

    For the sake of trying to help me, help myself, I'm going to risk writing things down bluntly, and if the people named find this, so be it. If you're reading this, enjoy knowing what I can't say to your face for your lack of being able to grasp where I'm coming from, be it from being unwilling, or unable to do it for other reasons.

    Ronan. - I remember when I met you. I had been killed by some nameless foe near 'old' Norwick, and someone found me, and brought me back to town. You offered to pay for my ressurection, and when I tried to thank you, ask how I could repay you, there was a public outcry of people tell me not to trust you. I did anyway, because you never demanded repayment, nor my services in some dark plot, nor any other foul thing people seemed to think of you.

    Celestria, when we were together, spoke to me of you many times. Both before my relationship with her was cut off by her feeling that our duties kept us from each other... til the day she married Andrew Tormier and after, she was close to you as well, and wished for your salvation. So too, did I. I aided her however I could, and trusted you when others did not. Did I betray her somehow back then, that I was unaware of? Did she tell you something that I even now do not know about, that planted the seed of distrust that has grown into a tree that bears poisonous fruit that you share with any who come near me, in an attempt to make them see me for the horrible person that I am?

    You too, were close to Kara. You and I were two of the very few that were able to approach her freely, and speak to her. You may have even been there when I put a scimitar to the Paladin Roland Brynmore's throat to keep him from attacking Kara while we spoke. Is that the source of your distrust? My eagerness to try to solve things without war, and making a brash decision to give a man driven by duty an unwilling way out from throwing himself at a foe who, if felled, may only be replaced with another in her stead?

    She was killed, and I was told that she was not the person I thought I knew, and just to let it go. If more of you knew, perhaps the odd couple might understand, but that is asking too much. No, I ask enough already, truly.

    Sierra came and went, someone who knew kara, took it upon herself to try and pull me out of my slump, and being the foolish young man I was, I jumped. She disappeared, shortly after my trip to Amn with her to save her father, and I've not seen or heard from her since. Do you blame me for her going, perhaps? Did I make some grave mistake in even bothering to try to find companionship again?

    Kaetlyn is everything I was not. Gentle, compassionately forgiving, kind even in the face of discrimination and senseless abuse towards herself, patient, dutiful, and calm. She was serentiy for my soul, and helped to calm my inner demons, my anger, my senseless age at times... and smooth over the weaknesses that I succumbed to from being hurt before. She was gone for five years. More than that... and I heard nothing from her, nor her from I. I am not all powerful. I cannot find someone merely by wishing it, especially when they have gone places that I know not, and nor can I follow with responsibilities keeping me here. Captain in the Legion, Elder in the circle, Leader of the Wolves, and whatever else I get myself into. I. Could. Not. Follow.

    We spent little time togther to begin with I fear, always being pulled away, or never even getting to meet up, due to whatever differences fate decided to pry at us with. It was not my wish to just, move on. That you could insinuate such, and say those things into the ears of people we both call friend makes me feel the stirrings of that old anger, like poking the embers of what was once a well fed fire, and seeing the glow that promises a raging blaze once more, if one should so much as haphazardly drop fuel on it. I almost fear taking a shape near you, if it's that of a hunting beast, that should I fail to control my emotions I should end up wishing to strike out at you. I will control that anger, as I have since Kara's death... but I feel it chewing at me. I wonder if Aelthas felt like this...

    Feather.

    I hardly know what to say about this. It was a rash decision, and the reason that I try to stay away from elves. There's something so... so very full of life, and joy, and the celebration of all the things that come with being elf that stirs part of my blood, the part that I resent at times, but the part that I know -belongs-, and that I have neglected as not being my own. I loved her, you lousy rat-bastard. I loved her like a fire takes a dry forest, two sides contributing to make something beautiful, but inevitably short lived. What most never realize, like not seeing the forest for the trees, is that wildfires bring new growth. They clear out the old and dead, the rot and the decay, purge the wekness and leave behind a clean start.

    Yes, thinking about Feather still hurts a bit. Alright, a good deal. I'm pathetic when it comes to feeling abandonment issues, I admit, but I am human. I am not a God, nor even a being of great and powerful magics, of knowledge beyond mortal ken, or experience beyond that of my peers. I am happy for the time we spent, but am aware that should she live through the trials that she refused to let me join her on, the ones she faces alone, my own lifespan, even bring altered by the fey themslves, likely will be no more than a sneeze on the winds compared to hers.

    I think she knows this. She wrote Tindra a letter, too. She gaver her blessing for us to be together, for what it's worth. I don't see myself as much of a prize these days, rather like a rusted sword that keeps getting passed on. Sure, it's got some story to it, and is still useful in many ways... but people like Ronan must find those spots of rust, and shout about them to the world so that everybody knows to beware this thing that will inevitably betray them. Don't try to fix it, don't give it a chance to harm you!

    Enough metaphor. Ronan has said that I throw loves away on a whim, that I breeze through lovers from one to the other, and that I will do the same to Tindra. He for some reason thinks I CHEAT on my lovers, that I would betray Tindra with Rith, because she is attractive. Did I accept Maya's offer in my house, her straightforward request for intimacy? I did not. Before Kaetlyn returned, while I waited those five long years for her return, did I act on the knowledge that Adriell (Who later vanished, only to return once i had moved on) and I could be something more? No. What about Albryanna, who confessed to loving me not only to Me, but to her fiancee, spurning him to attack me invisibly from behind with the intent to kill me, who had done nothing to earn his wrath!? I was not unfaithful to her then, either.

    Before I moved on, I left a letter where I knew Kaetlyn would find it, if she ever did return. I feel horrible inflicting the pain that I have felt on another, but ... I acted selfishly, and wanted no longer to be alone.

    Damn you, Ronan, for acting as if I should feel guilty for making a decision about my OWN life. Damn you Ronan, for making Rith so indescribably angry... your presumptions and accusations not only angering her by trying to paint a foul portrait of me, but also implying that she is some kind of slut, some woman of low morals who cares not for the sanctity of a relationship. Think whatever the fuck you want of me, but to attack her like that? If you have reason to attack her, and least leave ME out of it instead of using me as some kind of double edged seord against her and myself.

    Gods forbid, Ronan... I don't care which Gods, whose Gods, what Gods, or any other beings for that matter, but ALL of them forbid, Ronan, that you cause Tindra more grief with your attacks against me. You call me arrogant and selfish, but take no time to see yourself. I've wasted more than enough time defnding you over the years, vouching for you to all the folks from the Old days who only knew you were evil, telling them to take the chance to get to know you.

    The most damning thought keeps brushing across my mind, so maybe I can banish it on parchment. Perhaps if I give it a place to rest, it will give me some peace.

    Ronan, you've turned into Aramuil._


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Elder Lonetree: "Yes. Exactly."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


  • _What the hell do I do with myself now?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Sleep?

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

    -Make a list_


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

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

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

    I There is a jagged scratched line where he was startled

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


  • _Reminders to self:

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

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

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

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


  • _Made new ink. I win.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Oops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

    I'm really … test?

    Fresh Dip.

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

    Cute Tojan. Cute.

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

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

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


  • _Happenings.

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

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

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

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

    I was a fool.

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

    I led the retreat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    No-thing, either.

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

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

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

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

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

    Fuck.

    So much for that grand plan.

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

    Alright. I'm not jealous.

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

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

    (Something is scribbed out here)

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

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


  • _Pixies…

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

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

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

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

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

    Then I left to prepare.

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

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

    Protect us both...

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    He pauses, then addresses her again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    [dru]I come seeking answers.

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

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

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

    I await you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    _The rotting man.

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

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

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

    And our circle-stone...

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

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

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

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


  • _I almost feel bad.

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

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

    Yeah, them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Tindra likes red, doesn't she?_


  • _Reflection.

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

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

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

    Peace.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    At least I have this comfort, now.

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

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

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

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

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

    I continue to live it._