3. Picking up the Pieces

Picking up the Pieces


  • I sit in this inn room in Norwick, with absolutely nothing to do. I await his leisure the chance of a meal or talk, maybe a walk for a bath or to enjoy ice cream together. We still really haven't dated and I can tell this isn't working. He doesn't really want it to work. The ties between us stretch out. He thinks he severed them and he did the biggest ones. You can't have been with someone years though and have it be so easy. The time spent the years of arcane interactions. It’s like an aura off of him, tendrils that reach out between us. I can almost taste the arcane energy when he is near or smell it. I know my songs must still echo in his head it is the same, but different. It is easier to just call it lust though for him. I guess that is just how it will be. It is just another thing for me to recognize and mourn the loss of alone.

    Maybe I will have something else to do besides sit here and think soon.

    Pops said he would talk to Dwin for me. He said that he would help me to get a job here in Norwick. I didn't hold out much hope for a job here. I'm not a full graduate of the college yet. I guess I should get off my duff and do a few more apprentice tasks, but uhg I really just don't want to write a song about Rose.

    Pops did talk to Dwin though. He is willing to take me on as the historian of Norwick. That makes me much like the gnome Mixander back home.

    A pause in the writing Yes I guess I think of Peltarch still as home. I don't know why that should surprise me so. It is exciting the notion of being a historian for a town. I plan on starting with the founding of the town and the stories of the tribes. I don't want that information lost. The newer stuff will likely be covered by other bards for several years. I am certain myself or my successor(s) will be able to cover more recent events.

    A sigh as the woman sits back writing the ink drying on the page before her. Setting down her quill she stands pacing the room, glancing out the window as she waits for the water to boil. Pouring the steaming liquid into a mug with some leaves she stirs watching the bits swirl around in a dizzying vortex. Setting the mug down and looking to the paper again, she shoves a hank of hair back from her face bending over the page again

    There is only one problem with being The Historian of Norwick. I have no family. That means I have no family name. How do I write a book and get taken seriously without a name? I had thought to be a Redralen. Then I would have had a family name, not anymore though. I could create a fake name I suppose. What would I pick? How could I pick something that wouldn't seem forced or faked? I could ask Pops for his help. I dare not ask for his name. I mean I don't even know what his family name is. What kind of daughter am I?

    another pause the ink pooling at the dot on the question mark

    I am the kind of child that is adopted when she is mostly grown. We've been getting closer slowly over the years. He took me on and hasn't run off when I started calling him Pops. I thought he would have skipped out by now. I mean the sailors and stuff that would come round and want to play at a family would sometimes bring me treats when I was small. They would disappear for months or years or sometimes entirely. Jerr hasn't disappeared on me yet though. He doesn't judge me for my past. Hells, I know he thinks I'm stupid for ever having dated Ronan, but he's never said it. He's helping to support me even now while I'm living in Norwick trying to salvage my relationship. I know he doesn't like Ronan either.

    The red head sits back regarding her writing, lifting the tea and taking a sip. She reads over her latest snippet several times and bites her lower lip.

    I've been stupid not to realize it sooner. He really meant it when he adopted me. It wasn't just another to add to his collection. He loves me and wants what is best for me. He is clearly insane. Why would anyone do that? Dare I ask him what his family name is? Maybe that would be too much….

    **** A month or more later.

    A white haired man and a young red head are singing the sun up at the sundial in Peltarch. Chattering and jibing passing easily between them as they settled down in front of the monument. Some talk of what it is like to fly as a pixie. The red head turns a serious look to the man.

    Pops, what is your family name?

    He looks off to the sun just topping the buildings of the city before looking back to her. He speaks simply an old pain haunting his voice. I don't have one.

    The red head tips her to one side watching his face Of course you do Pops. All people of the tribes have family names don't they. I mean Lycka does?

    He looks down at his hands wrinkled from work not age and calloused from long years with all manner of instruments and weapons Mare, I was a foundling by the tribe. I've never known who my birth family was. There was an old loss and regret in the man's voice as he spoke simply, the rays of the sun starting to kiss the weathered face.

    The red head squealed, not so much with delight, but more as if she'd just been given a gift. It had finally all become clear to her, why he adopted. It wasn't just because the tribes expected him to have many children as a skald. It was because he was a lost child too. She threw her arms around his neck and shoulders hugging him close.

    You know! she crowed You understand. You are like me. she kissed his cheek It all makes sense now. the words flooded out of her mouth.

    He smiled at her enthusiasm. If he had only known that it would have taken such a little thing for her to understand why she was important to him he might have told her years ago. Perhaps not though, the man considered, as time must always pass for complete understandings. Kissing her forehead gently as she rattles on in her enthusiasm.

    Well then maybe I could just be like Lycka Zomasdottir and use Jerrsdottir? she wonders allowed almost carelessly

    The man stills at her words. Looking her in the eyes. She misinterprets stilling herself as she thinks she has gone too far.
    Oh its ok Pops. I don't have to. I just thought maybe, but it’s silly.

    He smiles at her as she fumbles through. Poor girl really doesn't understand family, but she was learning. His chest swells, his smooth baritone speaking gently, You honor me in wanting to take my name. You could choose to be Amithsdottir too you know or any other name. It is my honor that you would choose to be named after me.

    Her eyes shining as she looks at him. The guarded girl looking at him with the eyes of someone far younger, the young girl that wished for a family and a better life. She speaks hesitantly, cautiously, afraid of getting it wrong and someone ruining all that she has come so close to attaining Really Pops? You wouldn't mind?

    He laughs hugging her close Mare it is an honor to me. I would be honored if you took mine or your mother's name.

    she tucks her head into his shoulder returning his bear hug, quiet tears sliding down her face. She had gained far more in joining the college than graduating could have ever given her.


  • Growt offered to help find Pops today. He spoke a little too loudly near a torch trying to defray suspicion from me too. So sweet, I just wonder if everything for him is carefully planned. I sometimes catch him looking at my legs. I guess having grown up around dwarves that is to be expected.

    I'm worried about pops. I know now if they get him to the crossroad he'll let himself die. He wont let them jeopardize the sisterhood home. It doesn't help that the tribe is starting to plan his funeral service.

    We've found the warehouse where the wood is being taken, but having gone inside I could find no entrance to where the gnomes are. The men working there all seem terrified of the torches. This is partly how we realized the gnome was speaking through the flames. I watch the warehouse as much as I can, but still I am not sure if I will find them in time to stop them.

    **** some days later***

    Where to start with this tale days old now. Pops is returned to me badly damaged, but back. I only hope he recovers…

    It was like jumping into what I would imagine a mouth of hell looking like. All flames and melted raw dirt and rock. Still Meyiel, Reilash and I jumped. The flaming coach was attempting to leave Peltarch. We couldn't catch them in the sewers, but we managed to get out of them to the surface.

    They were hampered by the bridges somehow and one of their flaming horses was killed. This slowed them enough to gain on them some. Then near the high ridges south a force of hobgoblins had broken into them. I don't understand why the hobgoblins attacked. The coach was broken though. The gnomes fleeing on foot their last mount dead in the water. A large fire elemental leaving slushy wet foot prints in the snow and scorching the wood of the bridge. A gypsy guard pointing south and shouting about the elemental having killed his companion. Quick promises to return and help the guard, a healing song sang. The man calming a bit now than he no longer dripped.

    A rush as we made ourselves unseen and fell on them. The casters first, no the elemental. Free Jerr worry about the rest when he was free. They were both casters anyway. The fire elemental fell quickly to the mages spells and then like a pack of snarling wolves we fell on the gnomes. Two against 10 or was it 8 of us. They fought hard. In the end though their bodies lay dead only briefly before bursting into flames and becoming piles of ash on the ground. The few things that withstood the fire I gave to those who helped me, after we'd free pops from the sack they'd carried him in.

    It was a terrible sight though. he was wrapped head to toe in bandages. The bandages weren't soaked in any healing salve, oh no, they were soaked in oil. Oil so that when he burned he were burn longer and more painfully. We didnt' know that at the time. At first people didn't recognize him. all the flesh melted from his bones. he did not recognize us either. The heart wrenching agony of seeing someone you love so badly beaten and not being recognized. He didn't realize he was safe. I think the image of him trying to crawl away in the snow will haunt me for the rest of my life.

    We half carried him to the camp, pausing in the icy waterfall outside to help rinse away the bandages and the oil. They had been bound tight enough to stick into what was left of his flesh. There was no way to remove them without the ice cold water. Shivering and blue, I couldn't feel my fingers or my hands. Their tips white, but not painful before we'd gotten the last of the bandages off of him. Yet he did not feel the cold at all. It was soothing the ice. I guess that was a blessing. The gods know it took me hours to warm back up and the pain in my hands from that water. Nothing, nothing at all to his pain though. I shouldn't even write it here.

    We carried him to a cold fireless camp outside of William and Raver's home. He couldn't bare to be enclosed. He fears greatly catching a flame with someone too close. I'm not sure what the business about catching afire means, but it cannot be good. I love him so much. I'm so glad he is back, but at what cost? I feel responsible for it all. He has told me not to, but still. Well this is the facts anyway written down for now. Maybe later the rest of the story can be told. Is it enough that he is alive?


  • I've taken up the task of being skald. I sing the sun up and down each day as Pops used to. Every morning I hope that he has escaped and I will hear his voice echoing off a far hill as he does the same. So far no luck with hearing him. There are some leads though that I am following up. Ocean has had an amazing plan. She is working on spreading word through the tribes of what the Chief did to pops. We have been inviting and making it look like people from other tribes are arriving to discuss the situation. At the least it should make that peacock ashamed of himself. I can only hope that this ruse sticks in his craw like a fish bone if you accidentally swallow it.

    Adrian has been coming around to spend more time with me lately and another fellow named Growt. I guess they haven't heard that I'm not looking for anything. Maybe they hope to win me over in some sort of war of attrition. Poor Growt blushes at most of the things I say. I find myself torn between wanting to drive him off with embarrassment and finding out who he is. Adrian has likewise been a friend for many years. I wonder if his interest is related to the break up more than to me. Neither asks anything of me which is good as I have nothing I care to offer.

    I've been spending much time asking people for help locating pops. Ginger and Aramuil have been very helpful. Unfortunately Ginger was within a distance to help pops, but didn't know it until later. I've heard of a gnome in Peltarch looking for much wood. I have been trying to listen in and figure out where he is. I want to stop this plan. It seems the want to skin pops. They think that they can make some armor out of his skin. I doubt they can be right. They likely do not know that though. I think it was they that were behind the fire in the college. I need to find this gnome before more time passes. Who knows what they have been doing to pops. All the visions that people have had of him have been grim. I only hold on to the hope that he is still alive. If he is alive we can heal him and fix him up or we should be able to anyway.

    My mind runs round and round on how to find these people and stop them is it any wonder I have no time for much else?


  • I went on the second part of my spirit quest. I do not even know where to start with the tale. As I sit here pops is missing and likely dead. I am so angry at the tribe. I feel like I need to write this all out and yet I don't feel still enough to sit and write it. I guess start with the quest and move on from there.

    I entered the spirit realm with Taria as companion. She was wonderful. She didn't interfere. So we got there and there was a succubus just like last time. We'd gathered the wood and started the spirit quest ceremony. I didn't think anything was amiss. Pops seemed in good spirits. I don't think either of us expected anything going to wrong. I should have come back when we saw the succubus in the quest. She heckled me. She told me that a skald should have guards whenever he performs any ceremony. That is when I should have known. The walk continued the drums continued. I thought everything was fine. I thought she was just trying to scare me and make me stop the quest. Now I find myself wondering if she was warning me.

    We came to the same area as last time the old buildings falling apart and looking ill used. I found the fox, same as last time. The skeletons were trying to beat it. I beat them off and the fox began to sniff around one of the buildings. There was a symbol on the door of Azuth. I had recently been praying more to him because of Evendur. In thanks mostly for his friendship and for his return to the living. As we stood looking at the door and the fox stood sniffing it Ronan arrived.

    It was so much like him in one of his moods. He was not kind. He was his usual arrogant self and more. Everything he was that was negative and yet he fairly glowed with how handsome and attractive he was. He shoved me, told me I was doing it wrong. That I wasn't able to do anything right. I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to be doing. I landed in the snow on my ass. It was harsh and yet I knew that the real man had probably thought that. All those times he'd lied to me. He was likely laughing on the inside, sneering at me behind his pretty face. I should hate him, but I don't. When he kicked my fox though. It was like kicking me. I could feel it like a kick in the stomach, but deeper. It was worse than being shoved. I don't know how to reconcile it all. The man who couldn't hurt me to stay sane while in prison, now completely trashing me with words and actions. Yet it all seemed right. It all fit with who he seemed today. I wished him back to his old self again, but silently to myself. I knew then, he wont ever be the person that was kind to me again. All that was left for me was his ridicule and guilt the last vestiges of my love for him unrequited. I was angry then, I shoved him back, screamed at him and hit him. He told me I would never be free of him. That I would always be his. I was furious. I hit him harder, screamed at him and finally beat him away. He left with a sneer on his face. It was done though. He was gone.

    The fox dug a hole and the skeletons attacked again. I can only fault my weary brain and heart,but I did not understand its meaning for some time. Finally I dug a hole and tossed the bones in. The fox seemed pleased with this, but sniffed at the building again. There was something in it. The fox went in and there in the floor was a coin of some sort, but pushing the door open had made the roof unstable I reached for the coin and the fox before leaping for the door. The fox was not there though. As I fell to ground outside the door the building collapsed in on itself. I picked myself up out of the snow and dusted myself off. Looking to the fox an odd light appeared and I could hear the drums again like the beating of my pulse in my ears. The fox made as if to jump at me and yet right as it would have landed in my arms it disappeared. I touched it only briefly as it seemed to pass almost through me. We came to ourselves shortly there after. I had a coin in my hand like none I'd ever seen before; a gift from Tymora I think. I didn't notice it at first, nor did I notice my hair until much later.

    We rolled stiffly to our feet. There was no more drumming and the fires were dieing to embers. There was fresh blood, but no Jerr. Taria tried to summon him using some of his blood, but the succubus appeared again. She said that he was poisoned that he was taken beyond death. Somewhere he has traveled once before. He told me once he'd gone beyond death, but not where or why. The succubus said she didn't harm him, but that she told people who might be interested in his well being where he could be found. That those people took him. She said that her sister in the sands was looking forward to seeing him when he finally arrived there again. I ran to the sisterhood. I screamed and shouted and pounded on the door. I should have used my key, but I wasn't in a fit state to think at that point. It was all my fault for not turning back sooner and now Pops was gone.

    The briefest of explanations to Amith and Nicahh saw us three heading to the tribe. The men there with axes laughed at us as if they knew why we looked so upset. The rest of them looked sad or frustrated. I think perhaps the tribes are not as united as one might think. The chief heckled us said that he was old and all old men die. Yet I know that there are no old men in the featherlights. They seem to die before they get to an age of seniority. The chief knew though. We could see it in his eye, before we ever got there he knew. Worse though, he was glad. He gleefully told us that Jerr would be declared dead after the required amount of time passed. He mocked us that the death lays would not be sung. He did not count on the fact that Pops had taught Nicahh the lays. I was able to drum for her as she sang. It shamed him and diminished him within the tribe. You could see it. He glared at us for our small victory. The vain peacock will die, but maybe not soon. What remains now is finding Jerr and I will find him… four days and nights without sleep though I doubt even with my elven blood I can pull another. It will have to wait for a couple of hours...


  • Desperate! what an ass. I'm not desperate. He has no clue about me at all. Unfortunately that just make it more believable that he never cared. He looked like something was bothering him, but I kicked him out. No use at all speaking to him if he is just going to be rude and condescending.

    I will talk to Evendur, Aramuil or Celebring. They will be less arrogant and less likely to insult me for no reason. It was bad enough Caric interfered in the spirit quest. The fox left me. Although it too seemed angry with Caric for getting involved.

    As I thought, there is something else at play here. Succubi are not allowed where they aren't called. That means someone called it to the spirit realm. I don't know who, but someone did. I think Hedia was tempted by the offer to join the succubus, succubi. What is the plural there anyway? Caric was defended by his bear.

    When I try the spirit walk again I hope a succubus wont appear again. I don't understand why one was there the first time. If there is one again then at least I will know she cannot harm us on our spirit walk. At least she shouldn't be able to.

    Pops has been helping me to gather the wood necessary for the quest. We think the curse on Norwick might have been why the succubus was there. Pops says he knows a place that isn't in Norwick, but should be safe.

    I told Ronan it wasn't working. He agreed. He just seems so angry with me all the time. It hurts when he is so short because he is angry. I know it is guilt, but I can't shake feeling like he doesn't want to let himself like me. So I have moved out of the room in the grape vine and back to my room in the college. It is so lonely here though.

    Lycka is busy with Aelthas most of the time. The worst is when she comes back and talks about things she has been off doing. I ask who she was out with and she pauses and then lists the names off. She tries not to tell me he was there. Yet in her pause I know he was. We are still close, but there is a distance now. It grows wider with every passing day. I cannot spend time with her and her new friends because he is one of them and it is too hard. It kills me to think she prefers his company to mine and yet here I am. Maybe it is just because he is such a strong mage.

    They are getting married up in the glaciers soon. Aelthas and Lycka both invited me. I told them I could not go if he was there. It was too soon. I wished them well. Aelthas and Lycka both told me since then that they can take fewer people via teleportation. He wont be going. I am happy to think that I will be able to go now. Lycka spoke of meeting a burly clansman to take my mind off things; she doesn't know and I can't tell her. It would be too hard, too much trust to spend a brief time with a man. I find that appetite gone now anyway. Taria has been a good friend in recent weeks.

    I suspect Taria and I are both looking for something. Different things to be sure, but we are both seeking. It creates a commonality. She is a good companion, generous and kind to those she cares for. She says she cannot find her rage anymore. I feel like that must be a good thing. Only she seem totally bereft and lost. We keep each other from being lonely and I guess that is enough. She will no doubt move on when she finishes her search. I can only hope that we both find what we seek. I do hope that hers doesn't end as she thinks it will, with her death.

    I find myself not with Taria or out performing sitting in the sisterhood. The garden's are soothing. I find the children delightful and mother hasn't quite figured out that I am not gifted at cooking. She keeps talking about needing to learn to feed a man. No amount of telling her I am not interested in that now seems to persuade her. Her only comments being along the lines of, "That will change." Often followed by advice on how to roast a deer to serve on a shield. I wonder if all mothers are this way. I try to learn to keep her hand away from the weapons. I know they are cooking knives, but the way she handles them I know she could make me into soup. I bet she could season it and no one would ever know. Really though one dried up green leaf looks just like another. worse is when the herbs are ground. How do you ever tell those things apart? Maybe I will write her a song about herbs one day. I bet that would make her happy. She would like never realize that I couldn't identify the herbs in the song though.

    arg… time to go polish the brass and silver...more later.


  • Lycka and Ael were talking about getting married. I’ve know about it for years, but they will actually be doing it soon. Given recent events in my life it seems incredible foolish. Then again I was never interested in marriage. Ronan was the one that wanted to get married that pushed for it. I wonder if things would have gone differently if I hadn’t put it off for awhile. I didn’t see a need to rush it and likewise didn’t think it would fall apart like this. I always knew the ship was a tiny dingy in a vast ocean though. I think I may have washed up on a shore somewhere. I feel too battered and bruised to open my eyes though and figure out where I am now.

    Which brings me back to the tattoos… Aelthas needed to find a totem animal to marry Lycka. I always knew she had a totem animal. The tattoos were on her, representing family and friends. They hold spiritual significance for the person and the tribe as a whole. Aelthas despite following Selune is going or maybe by now has gone on his spirit quest to find his totem animal. It’s not a god, but a being to help guide and provide an outlook on the world. It is different for everyone though and it seems an intensely personal thing.

    I asked Pops half joking if his totem was a dragon. He said no. I was surprised, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was. Maybe it isn’t time to know or maybe for him it is more personal and not to be broadcast. I asked Pops if many of the other kids had totems. He said that, “he had never forced his religion on any of his children.” Followed shortly by, “Not many have chosen the way of the tribes.”

    I wonder if I can give back to him all that he has given to me. I wonder if following tribal lore would please Pops. What if the ways of the tribe are terrible and I can’t abide by them though? There is only one way to find out. I do keep thinking about totem animals though and wondering if that is the first step in learning of the tribes. Everyone I ask tells me of the spiritual nature of the animal and that the quest is a personal test. You find a piece of yourself when you are on the quest and yet it is more than that too. It all sounds very enigmatic and mysterious. At the very least it seems a source of comfort and pride for people that have one, an ultimate fall back of support within the self and yet somewhat external too. Even when they are totally alone there is another, this spirit animal.

    she sighs softly sipping the ever present cup of tea looking out the tiny window of the room.

    I think I will ask Pops if I can take the quest. I will get to learn more about the tribal beliefs and rituals and maybe get something that is all my own. Maybe I will find another piece of myself, by all accounting it is a very personal experience. Something just for me without other people polluting it with their wants or desires. Yes, I think I will ask Pops.