3. -Ashe's New Journal- (Adult content and strong language)

-Ashe's New Journal- (Adult content and strong language)


  • This journal is small, and the writing within it miniscule to say the least.
    Closely spaced, tiny, and efficient, those without keen eyes won't even be able to make sense of it without a magnifying glass of sorts, at least.

    The writing is smooth, practiced, and flows easily between letters and words, and begins… like this.

    
_Reading through my old journal, I can't help but laugh.

I feel silly about how I used to feel silly, talking to myself on paper.

Re-reading that, even, makes me laugh.

I'm not ashamed to write, now… but for a very good reason.
Things are occuring not only so fast I feel I'll forget if I don't... but they've gotten to a point that if I don't write it down, not only will I not believe it was real, but if something happens to me, nobody will know unless I do.

Now, it's off to try and plunder some coin from some unsuspecting nasty creature with Kayden. Here's hoping that's all we find. I intend to live to write down what's happened...._

  • _Fecksakes.

    Reading through this thing again makes th'blood run all different temperatures, all over again. Makes me want to sharpen my knives, buy some new scrolls, set holy traps around me, and drink holy water with my booze.

    Seeing tha' scarred up Banite fella Arthur brought my own scars to itching though. Wonder what he did to get em. Kinda. Some things are best left in the dark especially Baney stuff. I shudder to think of it.

    Norwick is … nearly the same. Elyl sure is, except for not being bleeding when I saw him. How strange!

    We chatted, and Elyl was kind enough to bring me a bottle o'wine, and e'en share his spare pipe with me. Poor fella got worn out though, and went t'bed without gettin' it back. I debated followin' 'im, and stashing it in his pack or whatever, but eh, I'll see him again.

    I wonder who is still about that I would know these days. Best go and find out. Besides, these scars are getting stiff. Best find someone with a good balm._


  • _Well, that was a bum lead.

    One explored island, two near-death experiences, and a parrot in a pear tree later, no Elixir of youth.

    I really need to step up my game. I'm not as young as I once was, but that doesn't bother me overmuch. Being pals with death might have its perks… then again there's that prophecy about me and Kayden dying horribly.

    Well shit. That's depressing.

    On a brighter note, I'm home again, and going to go wrangle some information from whoever might have some to spill about one of those potions. I need to be useful. That strikes me as a good way to do it, too.

    Facilitator duties can include making ones employer live longer, right? That seems like facilitating something positive if you ask me. Time to get back to work.

    Why am I in such a mood to stab someone today, anyway?_


  • Hastily scrawled, a quick note, as if a shopping list, is formed.

    _`~-To-Do list regarding the Admiral -~'

    • Potion/Elixir/Whatever of Youth. - He's tired of being old, and getting whiny as he gets older. Need to fix this.

    • Find fire-crotch / banshee / girlfriend / mistress. Farker's lonely, and it's makin him more deppressed, still.

    • Adventure? Need to take him to beat on a few of those puny goblins. He doesn't feel like he can kick as much ass anymore._

    The writing ends abruptly, and is partically copied on the page before it, backwards of course, as if it was hastily closed before dry, so someone couldn't read it.


    • A note given to Drelan -

    Things to talk about

    _Admiral Drelan,

    As your facilitator, I've put together this list to be updated any time I happen across a useful conversation topic for use with your lady in facilitating conversation. Like that? Facilitating. Yep, that's me! Anyway…

    • Turning people into newts!

    Can she do it? You've never asked. You really should. On a related note, you could ask her if she knows any spells for protecting people from scrying. Just sayin'!

    • Ashe votes for you!

    Let her know that she's a much, much, much! better pick and match for you than bitchlet. That silly halfwitted mostly insane skankbait whore of a sorry excuse for a sneak isn't nearly good enough for you. Not even close. My approval is harder to gain that she would think, so she should be proud!

    • Ask what kinds of stories she likes!

    Aye, stories. I know ye 'ave em. Ask what she might like t'know, oblige her, then she'll surely ask questions about em! Try it. Ye may even be pleasantly s'prised. Ye can find out her interests and such, maybe bring her a book she likes based on yer findings.

    At any rate, that fella with the shadowy armor went through all the trouble of hopping a short fence to speak with ya, so I'll finish this up, and give ye another one soonish.

    -AF, The Facilitator_


  • _Adventures. Sailing. Kayden.

    Life is good.

    There have been a few demon attacks.
    I could care less, since we all survived.
    Frankly, I'm kinda excited for the future again.

    Aren is in the halls of the Gods, whatever that means.
    Perhaps we won't be the only ones with stories when we finally get to see him.

    Jaelle I hardly see any more. Jack is gone. Jay is gone.
    We have another fuckin' Sterr somehow. Not that I mind, but … wow. More? I begin to wonder how many there are!

    Norwick is getting stranger. There's that smiley elf, then there's Aramuil. Black and white, those two. There's people who leave only come back bloody as hell EVERY time, only to go back as soon as they're half put back together again. Bugbears and goblins, undead and GIANT GREEN MONSTERS screaming about ... hats?

    Hells, At least things are quiet in around Oscura, or on the docks of Peltarch, though I can still hear the angrier citizens shouting too often, or that blonde guardswoman elf tossing somebody to the ground.

    She seems a nice sort. See her at fight night occasionally too.
    Yana is her name, that's right. I wonder, if I had gone though with joining the scouts, if I would be doing anything more like that, instead of what I do now.

    I need to stop thinking about what-ifs.
    Maybe just stop thinking, and go -do- for a while.

    Heere fishy fishies..._


  • _Kayden is still not himself.

    Nor are some others, and it's driving me past tears, and into murderous.

    No demons have attacked lately, though one has whispered at me a few times. This one is easily enough to ignore once in a while though…

    No, what's bothering me most, is crew.
    Godspit and damnation, but I'm pissed off.

    Jay is dead. He went and got himself killed, plain and simple.
    No monsters needed, just his mouth and pride, meeting someone else's mouth and pride, and the backing of Oscura against a "Surfacer".

    I don't like the way Oscura does things like this any more than the next, but I won't say that Jay was killed senselessly, or it was an act of blatant careless murder. Men fight, men get killed, and for less insult than I've given people for no reason sometimes. Jay it seemed, would give insult anywhere he could, hoping for a fight. He got one from me a few times, but I was sick of being beat up. I started simply leaving when he arrived, plain as that.

    I'm writing all this now (Possibly again) because once more it's crew on my mind. Jaelle, Jack, maybe even Sabre, definitely Mercy ... they all seem bent on some ... some scheme. I don't know what, and I don't dare ask. I don't think I want any part of it, truth be told. All I know is that it rhymes with revenge.

    Jaelle seems bent on killing herself from what I hear, and I can't do a damned thing to stop her. I don't have kind words to offer about Jay, nor do I know what -would- help. Nothing I do will make the situation any less fucked, and this is an ettin-sized fucking. No pleasure there, I'm sure.

    Then, there's Amywen. Damn that bitch, but she lost her shit when she stabbed Jaelle to free her from the pain when that craken shoved itself, and some-thing- inside her. While we were all busy trying to help, trying to kill that little monstrosity, which we did ... she was busy panicking, and then when she finally made the move to put Jaelle out of her misery, it broke her.

    I mean -broke- her. Like, a porcelain vase off the top of Spellweaver keep, broken. I don't remember why I took her knife, that asp, but I did. She vanished then, and would scurry away like a frightened rat when approached. I tried to help, before she ran, but obviously I was no help.

    She's back now. She's still not better, I think. She came across me in Oscura, and demanded her blade. I didn't just give it to her, but spoke to her first. Asked if she planned on using it on herself. She said no, but I made a point to hang onto it since she was being a pushy bint. She snatched it then, with such force that I let go, rolled backwards, and came up with my hands on my blades when I hit my feet.

    I don't trust her.

    She walked off, and I flicked my wrist, setting the toy in my sleeve on her. She froze dead in her tracks, paralyzed with fear, and I reveled in it a moment, telling her that if she pulled that shit with me again, I'd show her true fear.

    I came back to Oscura from my walk to the Peltarch docks, and came across that evil damned broad talking to Drelan. I know there's something there, or was ... there's a history. I'll leave it at that.

    He must have seen me (I'm still not sure how, I usually surprise him) and asked me to attend. "Facilitator. Come with us." he said.

    I did as bid, helping him help her along. She was a farkin' mess. Her little tough-girl "Gimme my sword" attitude was clearly not there, and we walked her inside.

    "Make some food. Something with a lot of meat and rice in it."
    Right, of course. Right away sir. Uh-huh ... Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy to cook, but I didn't know her angle. She seemed... messed up all of a sudden, in the mere hours since our little altercation, and my walk. Now she looked next to useless. She was dirty and ragged before, but more-so now by far, in the light.

    He walked to the bath-door with us, and asked me, "Okay facilitator. Bath, or food?" asking which I was going to do. I have him a look that made him shuffle his feet awkwardly, and said something along the lines of that I wouldn't be choosing that for him, not even under orders. I know what the git prefers. I told him that I wouldn't make his honor prickle by either assuming he doesn't have the decency to bathe a woman, OR by assuming that it was his desire to.

    Fuck that, not my decision. He started being ridiculous then, and making a scene of asking why I wasn't answering, before he turned that reddish color of his, and said nevermind. I said good, and went to go cook.

    That lovable dipshit sent me ALL over his place looking for the rice ... and it turns out to be in his dresser. It looked like he raided a food shipment, and is hoarding it for the end of the world or something with how much rice is in there. Gods ... I also found something I was likely not supposed to see. Fuckin moving walls ... you don't invite a trapper into a room with moving walls. You just DON'T!

    I could hear crying from in there. I felt kinda bad, despite how much I tend to dislike her... there's good reason for it, though.

    Since I met her, she's been downright fuckin' cruel to me.
    Granted, I shouldn't care. Hells, half the crew is always giving one another shit at all times. Hers was different though. Always calling me a whore in one way or another. I pride myself on being smart, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out why. I figured Jay or Luke or someone had made a whore joke at me, and she's not clever enough to think of her own, so it stuck.

    Turns out, I was quite wrong.

    They finished bathing, I had been told to get her some clothing. "Something girly". I got that, and something a good deal more decent, in case Drelan didn't mean what he said. Of course, he looked shocked at the outfit I chose ... the git, so I handed him the other one. She chose some dress or something of her own instead, and I finished up the dinner.

    THEN he has me make tea. He wants it to calm her, and puts something in it. Apparently he almost drowned her with it before properly convincing her to drink it, which she did, and rapidly, making her quite literally pass out soon enough.

    Senria and Alexi came over, Drelan beat the fuck out of him with a fish ... but said Alexi won the fight and now has to fight twenty folks at the Bodak for some reason next week, as he beat the champion, as is now the new one. Poor sod...

    I took care of b-Amywen while they fought. I laid her back against me in the huge chair, and brushed out her hair til it shone, even braided it just a little, to keep it back, and nice looking. Little braids from the front, meeting in the back and hanging down. I thought it looked cute, and I was happy to help her.

    Here's the truth, and I ended up admitting this shit to Dre when he said ... I don't know, -something- that made my stupid girly ass cry.

    I've always looked up to Amywen. She was always more composed, more witty, more skilled, quicker, smoother, stronger. Next to her, I felt like ... some cheap secondhand knock off. An imitation. A wanna-be.
    I looked up to her, and she hated me anyway.

    I was nothing but second rate, at best.

    I told him all that, and more. I explained that she was always evil to me, that it GOT to me, that I couldn't stand it, and that yes, I had whored once.

    It was a mission, but that's just an excuse. I trailed a target, set myself up in the whorehouse to meet him when I got his pattern down, made sure I was to his liking as the lady of the house knew, and I was bedded by him, to make sure I could pillow talk the proof out of him, and have a chance to get to the pockets of his clothes and get his signet. I did so, killed him for his crimes, and moved on. It was advanced work for a thief catcher, I wasn't forced to kill him, but I did. It made me feel less... filthy. Used.

    The Sails made me feel useful, AND at home. Wanted. Useful. Even loved to an extent. She was the opposite. I was obsolete. A possible traitor of all things! I could have killed her then... but I wouldn't have been able to. She would have killed me in an instant.

    I told Drelan so much. How much I hurt, how much I envied her, and he told me that it was nonsense. I was useful. I was wanted. I was currently the best behaved out of the crew and most useful to him lately. Solving problems, not causing them, I assume.

    I composed myself, turning away from him, and looked back.

    Gods, I almost wish I didn't. That fuckin BITCH had her eyes wide open. I mean wide open making no effort to hide it either. She didn't look groggy or anything. I wondered how much she heard, until she spoke.

    "You're wrong about two things." she said, her tone cool and dismissive.

    "First, I don't hate you."

    I paused a moment to think on that, then she smirked.

    "But you are nothing but second best."

    I snapped. I was angry that she had sat there and listened to all that. I was furious that I hadn't noticed she was awake. I was mad at Drelan for not making his fucking knockout tea stronger, and I was DONE feeling less than this whore.

    Drelan had told me why she was so cruel to me. She was that way to everyone she believed was fucking him. She assumed I was, so I was the enemy. A threat. She apparently wanted him, used to have him, who knows. Apparently SHE wasn't good enough, or she'd still be with him...

    I think somewhere in the blur of events ... she said I likely didn't know who the father of my child was. I told her I had a husband, and it was his thankyouverymuch, but I don't think it mattered to her at that point.

    I thought about restraint for only a moment. Then I threw a knife at her. In Drelan's home. Figures that I would miss, really... but she smirked, leapt on the table, and hit me before I could get another.

    "That's IT! I'm not taking this shit any more!" I think was something akin to what I screamed, and I rushed past the table, blades in hand, ducked behind the chair to throw her off, and slapped her with my blades.

    I wasn't about to gut a bitch in Drelan's home, especially one he may have had some use for in the future in some form or fashion... so I struck her with them. She's stronger than me, but it didn't do her any good. I got her a good one across the face, another in the ribs, got hit once, and took her down when she backed up a step with a risky lunge.

    I admit it. I stood on her.
    I admit it. I loved it.

    I told her I was done with that shit.
    She was done taunting me.
    I told her I'd take her on again, too.

    She ended up saying something that sounded like "Not bad" and I told her to go to hell on the way out.

    Her response was what I expected. "I'm there every day." or something like it.

    "I'm sure you deserve it." was what she got for her trouble.

    You know ... I rather think she does.
    That's heavy shit coming from me, I don't really think much of anyone deserves the hells, but if she claims she's already living them, so be it. Drelan escorted her out, and wasn't even mad at me.

    In fact, before I drew down on her, he promoted me to Bosun.
    He didn't rescind it after I stomped her either. It seems whatever happened between them likely ended for a reason, to as I said, to the hells with her. I wanted to be her friend. I wanted to live up to her.

    It seems I'm well past. Even if she has some skill I don't, or is better at some-thing, hell, even everything ... apparently it's not enough.

    I can live with that._

    Smiling, Ashe sets down her journal, and kicks her feet a little. The dock pier is quiet for now, the sailors not quite awake three hours before dawn, and she is close to the water, her place of calm. It seems it was a good day after all.


  • A series of entries follow. Each is fairy short, concise, to the point, and seem to occur every month or so.

    
_It's been months since it all happened, and I've been finding it hard to write. I don't even have to LOOK at the previous pages in this book to re-live every last agonizing moment I wrote about in explicit detail.

It's like walking into the bath-house when somebody dropped Mordayne Vapors into the water.

Everyone is fucking, eyes rolled back, sloppy noises in every direction, the sharp tang of drugs, sex, and sweat rolling over whoever is unfortunate enough to walk in at the moment.

You don't -want- to watch the bizarre parody of affection, like some drug induced "Play", mocking the real thing. It's there though, and JUST to be sure there's nobody you should be pulling out of there, you look. Or you remember your last experience with that stuff, and are grateful that it did not turn out like … well, this.

Somehow, the journal reminds me of that when I turn blindly past the pages I've already written.

I know what's there, even if I only glanced.
The memories hit me so hard I am almost sick.

Wait, no, I am sick. And it's not just the memories.

Morning sickness, the healer called it, giving me several bags with tea in it that are supposed to help. More fucking tea...

If the Sails catch me drinking TEA and I'm not frozen half to death, the jig will be up, and I'll go through more of this shit.

I saw Jay and Sabby today, and couldn't make myself stay in the coppers with Jaelle when he walked in. I don't know what posessed me to almost tell Sabre that I am pregnant... but her reaction assured that I will never try something like that again. His words were cruel from the moment he opened his mouth, as usual, and I wanted to react in kind. He has that effect on me, and I've decided to avoid him at all costs.

If I have to work with him, fine.
Otherwise, I'll just stay away.

Crew is good for killing things. Crew is good for earning gold.
Crew is good for companionship, so long as you don't bring feelings into the whole mess.

This, I clearly can't trust the fucking crew with, unless I want to be taunted, ridiculed, and looked down at. Dre won't but he already knows. Jack will look at me pityingly and resume flirtng with me. Sabre will be exasperated, and say something she likely won't mean to say. Luke will shrug, or make some joke and resume snogging Sab. Mercy will spout vile gibberish, speak of keelhauls and whores, and likely suggest drowning my child for the bitch queen. Ugor will say "Urgh" and resume drinking, while Johno will likely remark on my "Hold" being full, and ask if there's room for him up there still.

Hellsakes, if I were Jaelle I wouldn't be able to look at a stomach with something -in- it the same way ever again. Fuck, I can't even imagine me preganant, and Jaelle's experience is only the latest reason.

Gods Above and Below ... how do I get through this?_

    _Sick again.

    Gods Kayden … I'm not saying I'm unsure this all will be worth it, as I know it will, and it's important, but if you ever come across this book, know that right now, I hate you more than anything.

    If I throw up the rest of my breakfast this morning AGAIN, I'm making sure it ends up in your boots.

    If it wasn't for our link, I'd be more mad, but I know your stomach turns just as much as mine right now. Damn yours for being stronger._

    
_Is it obvious?

I think I can see a little … I don't know what to call it. Bump? Bulge? Shit... I don't want to be big. I don't want anyone to know.

Alright, I'll avoid the crew. It can't be that hard, can it?

How long does a pregnancy last anyhow? I can steer clear of them for ... seven more months? Shit..._

    _Gods damnit, I had to loosen the lacings on my armor.

    It shows, and I can't run comfortably now.
    People see it, and spare me the questions, thank the Gods, since I don't know how I would answer some of them.

    "What will you name it?"
    Shit, I don't even know that.

    "How far along are you"
    No clue, I'm no healer. If I knew how long, I'd try to speed it up, too.

    "Are you excited?"
    Why would somebody even ASK that. Yes or no, it doesn't matter.
    I am now filling out, and every inch I grow is further reminder of my responsibility.

    To Kayden. To myself. To my child. To Death. To Kayden's line.

    Gods I miss drinking…_

    
_WHY THE HELL DO I WANT PANCAKES AND FISH EGGS?_

    _I cannot believe how huge I am now …
    Shit, I'm miserable. When I'm not paying attention, I'm starting to waddle. What a sight I must be.

    Stick skinny girl with this ... lump out the front of me. Used to be, I turn sideways I'd almost disappear. Now I knock shit over.

    I feel like a two legged cow._

    
_My tits hurt now too.

Nobody said ANYTHING about my tits feeling like they want to fall off.
They're not even BIG enough to feel like this, what the HELL! I feel like my big fuckin belly is going to drag me onto my face from the weight, and my tits are pre-emptively complaining from the pain.

I can't even put my boots on now._

    _Alright, it was worth it.

    The pain is gone, and they're … well they're not quite Sedea sized, but wow. If these things float, I'll never fear drowning again!

    Granted, I know it doesn't work like that... but wow. I'm going to fall flat on my face from them once this baby is out, but I'll finally -really- fill out an outfit proper-like now.

    Johno' gonna lose a hand soon, I can already tell._

    
_Can't sleep.

Can't eat more than a few bites, it's like there's no room left.

Can't walk or run, only waddle.

I'm being KICKED. From the inside. What … the ... fuck.

How much longer does this shit last?
Thank you for putting up with me, Kayden. I've been a bitch the last few months. I'm sorry ..._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_It can't be long now… that fucking whispering demon is going to lose. He's mine, I'm going to have him, and you can't stop me. You're all words, you git.

I may not be able to get out of bed easily now... but perhaps next month I'll be past this, and ... well, shit, I don't know what I'll be doing.

I tried to ask Kayden how we're going to raise a kid without a steady, safe home. He says not to worry. I do anyway ..._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The last entry is very short, and shaky.

_I don't know what to do for him.

It's for the better this way, but he's crushed.

I'm happy just knowing he's safe, but it pains me to see Kayden looking so lost. My son, grow strong, and come back to us when you learn your destiny. We'll be waiting, your father and I. I love you._

  • 
_It's funny 'ow a talk with Death himself, can clear up SO many questions. He's mostly polite, has the coolest laugh, and is apparently easily amused by us mortals.

Well, at least us mortals he's chosen to play with.
Maybe it's unfair to say "Play" … as such, he has helped a lot, and apparently it's for something akin to a greater good... or maybe just keeping away the greater evil.

Division of power?
Who knows, it's above my head...

At least now I don't feel like I'm a pawn in a big plan i was never told about. I need to get past some of my past hangups, but shit it's not as easy as removing a cloak, and hanging it on a rack.

So far we've had one date since... and Izakiel showed up, saying we were playing his game perfectly.
I shot a bolt right through his heart.
And yes, I mean through. Fuckin incorporeal chikenshit.

Another day..._

  • 
_Alright, now that I'm calm enough to write again, I'll try to sort through what happened leading up to the page before this.

Wow, I'm still having issues getting used to the idea. Not that it's bad … just, ah fuck it for now. Details.

Kayden found me in the temple.
Somehow, he always finds me, except when I'm meaning not to be found.
I still giggle to myself whenever we pass through trees, or anyplace I should be cautious, to see him look around wondering how the hell I dissapeared.

He's so cute when he's confused!

Daisy had returned to work, that nice ghost girl had left, and I sat alone for what felt like days... Taker had not been back since Ael threatened it with Wartooth, which I guess is the name of his sword. It's nice to have people around who care, and Ael seemed to. I don't know what to think of him sometimes... but I think I'll just keep liking him.

Everybody has bad days, right?

Speak of which, my day got weird, fast.

At this point, there is hardly anything left of my leg. It hasn't healed but the bleeding wasn't so bad as it should have been. I guess Taker wanted me alive, for now... when Kayden arrived, Daisy and one of the other knight-looking fellas presented me with something, saying that we had t finish this for ourselves.

I guess Daisy somehow got hold of my request to Drelan, or simply new about it... as a pair of short swords now grace my hips. They are named, of course, Tymora's tits. I figure if anything can give me the luck I need, it best be something distracting, and I admit... I like seeing people's faces when I tell them that.

They are silver and gold... both of them. I suppose the Silveris for undead, and gold for demons? I'm no expert, so I'll trust Daisy knows what she's doing. I thanked them profusely, and Kayden and I walked to Jiyyd. Well, near Jiyyd. Back to the cave where it all started.

And by walked... I mean limped a little and was carried the rest of the way. I feel pathetic... but imagine having two steaks in your hands, and rubbing them together. Raw steaks. Roughly cut steaks. Now try to balance them on one another enough to support your weight.

Yeah, that's my leg.

The good news is, it hurt so much that I could hardly think about it, if that makes any sense. It had become a constant thing, this pain, from all the carvings into me. This was just another part of that. Besides... I think I already ran out of tears.

I didn't think you could.

That cave... is made of nightmares.
If you squeezed nightmares out of the heads of children, of war-scarred soldiers, and of priests who get to see the horrible thigns that men do to one another, chopped them into fine pieces, mixed it with blood, and flung a fine mist of it into the air where it could stick, and hold you down, and make you breathe it as you tried to walk past... this was a hundred times worse as we got farther in.

We made it, somehow. I made Kayden let go of me, and limped along as best I could, which was so say I looked like a very quiet zombie trying not to drag a nearly useless leg. It is SO hard to sneak anywhere with a useless leg. . .

We had a visitor... the figure before I now call "Death", and he told Kayden what was expected of him, and handed him a blade.
He left quickly, and wished us luck, and it seemed he truly meant it. I had the horrible feeing we would need more than anyone could wish.

It turns out, that we didn't have to sneak. There was a circle, like the one that started it all. As mencacing as lines drawn on cave floor can be, frankly, there they were, like some ridiculously cliche demon welcome-mat. Tacky bastard.

Hands came out of the floor again, but I was ready. I slashed them, and they squealed, retreating back from whatever demon's asshole they crawled out of, and for a moment I was confident on my one good leg. I stood as tall as I could by Kayden's side, and shouted our challenge to Taker.

I was ready.

I was wrong.

I awoke to a strange sensation. Pain was there of course, but that's not strange by ANY means. Not anymore, that is. No, the sensation was cold, on my face, and the rest of me for that matter. My wrists and ankles were the coldest.

I was chained to the floor.

Naked.

In a familiar scene really, at least the fact that I was again lying in a pool of my own blood... when he came. I'm sure that it was only minutes, but it felt like hours til I saw Kayden. He approached, but stopped short. Ah, of course. I was in a rune-circle, and he was no fool.

There was banter back and forth, and then my chains broke. I would have rejoiced, but there was no time, as I was hoisted into the air like a puppet on strings, my arms and legs spread straight out from me, and I was held like a butterfly on a pin in a case of curious little things of no consequence.

I felt exposed.
I felt helpless.
I felt dirty.

The man I have unexplainably grown to.. I guess. love? He saw me without my armor, the armor I wear, and the armor I hide behind. No mystery left, no wonder if I had a hidden weapon handy in case he got fresh, nothing left to share forthe first time if we ever get that far... it was taken. Taker... he probably knew just how much that hurt, and he didn't even have to strike me.

He stated his claim again, and this time I got mad.
I forget what I called him, but he threatened to hurt me.

I dared him.

I felt by back get torn open, from the back of my neck down, and I bit my lip. I didn't scream. I waited until it had time to sink in that it didn't hurt me, and I laughed. For someone who is used to "Taking", I suppose he doesn't deal well with rejection. He did it again, and once more, I laughed. Oh, it felt like POWER, laughing through the searing pain, the sound of my blood hitting the floor like it was thrown from me.

I don't remember what set it off, but Kayden struck out at the demon. Taker took a hit, and it surprised him I assume, because he suddenly lost interest in me. They ran everywhere, fighting, and I saw something that made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, and I think I giggled, splayed out and flayed open and on display as I was. The demon was running, it was afraid, and Kayden pursued it like a thing gone mad.

Then the force holding me broke.

I ran, not feeling pain, but aware that I was mostly falling over in the process. I found my gear, and put on what I could, and I grabbed the tits, rushing after them. Remember how hard I said it was to sneak?
I didn't need to.

A halfassed swipe at me as I swung around behind him was all that Taker could manage, as Kayden was very much keeping his attention.
I slashed at the back of it's legs, I stabbed at it's kidneys.

I cuts it's wings to ribbons. I marked it like it had me, and laughed all the while. The pain was unbearable from the strain, but I wasn't going to stop until I passed out, or it died.

It ranted and raved, and told Kayden that I was it's, not his, and taunted Kayden that he didn't love me enough to save me. I laughed once more, and told the thing that it couldn't have me anyway, that I loved Kayden, and it was a poor excuse for a substitute.

It paused, shocked for a moment, for a reason I can't honetly make sense of, and Kayden struck it a blow that made it falter.
I took a leap of faith.
Yes, I do mean a leap.

I jumped as high as I could, and planted both blades high on it's back, angled in at it's spine, and I felt a great shudder pass through it, and heard it's gurgled scream of shock. Kayden slashed it more as I rode it down like a squirrel in a felled tree... though I doubt squirrels throw back their heads and laugh like madwomen on the way down.

I'd say I've never felt better... but frankly, the pain came back pretty quick once it was over.

I slumped against Kayden, and was debating a nap for a week or three, when HE showed up again.

No, not taker, but ... well, Death I guess.

He and Kayde spoke, and polite as can be, he asked if I wished my wounds healed. I said that since he asked so politely, I would permit it.

Sometimes my mouth gets me into trouble... if you haven't already guessed.

Would you believe it then... he laughed.
He, has, the COOLEST laugh! If I could laugh like that, I don't think I would even NEED weapons. I'm jealous...

He spoke more, and I could HEAR him grinning.
Who'd have guessed, but death grins behind his mask. A real grin.

He brought us back from wherever we were... nice guy that he is, after ... well... stating that Kayden and I were man and wife.

There wasn't much of a choice, now that I think about it, he never did ASK us... but I mouthed off that I DO, anyway, to make it clear that nobody decides for me.

Ah, that laugh again.

He dropped us off in the middle of fight night in Norwick, and I guess made a bit of a scene in the process. I loved it! Sabre's face when I told her to meet my husband was pretty funny... and I am healed, true to his word.

Now, I don't know if it couldn't be avoided, or if it was intended, but I am scarred now. All twenty-nine "MINE" markings grace me everywhere but my left arm and leg, and my face. I guess my ass is okay too, and my nether regions, but the rest... well, I suppose I can say I own myself pretty thoroughly now.

These are my pride. These were my pain, and I won them.
Somehow, I think things are going to be different from now on.

I'm ready._

  • One entry takes up the majority of the page, written large and bold.

    ==========================================

    HOLY SHIT I'M MARRIED . . . . . . .

    ========================================


  • The right side of the pages from here on in the book are pink.
    The book was apparently set upon her leg at some point, and soaked up what the bandages, useless as they are, could not.

    A note precedes the entry:

    _In the temple of the Triad, I met Sayla.
    We spoke about how we seem to be kindred spirits, or at least she said that after appearing to me. Ironic because she truly IS a spirit, and was apparently killed in a ritual sacrifice.
    "Darkthorn". I'm going to have to find out more about that.

    Spirits don't come to someone without a reason, and I asked her if there was something I could do for her.

    She has a friend, named Kara Willendt. She used to visit often.
    Sayla misses her, and asked if I could tell Kara.

    One more reason to survive this.
    Sayla was kind enough to keep me company, and seems to understand me. When I can walk again, I will find this Kara for her_

    
_I'm really beginning to hate this Taker.

All the wounds, the terror, the hateful laughter, the writing things in MY blood, that's not so bad, when it comes down to the fact that this BASTARD is killing me slowly.

He's making it possible to survive, but impossible to live.

As I write this I have just finished speaking with a spirit, of all things… in the temple of the Triad, of all the places!

My pirate ass, being tended to by Daisy, and that Duran fellow, thanks to Aelthas. He was at the south gate, of course... shortly after it happened. IT, being Taker of course. I was talking to a nice girl at the south gate who also seemed to somehow be able to relate to me, as young as she looked. I spoke of Taker, and Gargoyle Skulls began appearing in the grass.

Pop, pop, pop, like disgusting flowers from a garden in the hells.
They formed up in a line, as nice as you please, and I got that sick feeling that I know his prescense from.

M

Of course, the first letter of Malice. The malicious fuck was at it again. Of course, I didn't know if the girl could see them too, until she said, "Oh, well he sure is creative then..." pointing.

I

Yes, "I" hate you too, you son of a bitch. I watched it try to make a straight line, and wanted to laugh, but I choked on my fear, instead.
How do you deal with something you can't hurt, OR run from?

N

No, I wouldn't run. I cannot run. I couldn't, because I won't.
No, running wouldn't help me, or Kaden, or anyone else if it took out it's anger on someone other than me. While I don't particularly care what happened to a lot of the people here, I don't want it to be my fault, either. Knowing my luck of late... no offense Tymora, but knowing my luck, it would be somebody I like. Or worse...

E

End it, you asshole.

That was my thought for a moment, and only a moment.
It wouldn't be my fault if I went down fighting, right? Hells I might even take it with me... I blew the rest of my gold in the Kelemvorite temple on blessed bolts, and a Silver Tipped Stake. Blessed and powerful supposedly. Kayden HAD used one to chase of the arms from the cliff, once..

I was at the E, waiting when the skulls finished their little pattern, and I tried to tear him apart. I cut the air as many times as I could before I couldn't move through the pain... I had stretched open my chest and back wounds. They never close, but it always hurts more to fight than to do anything else. The rush of battle chases away the pain... but fear, godsbedamned, paralyzing, chilling, evil fear... it takes away the edge.

I could do no more, and I knew it. Standing was my victory at that point. I don't think I mentioned it out loud, but he heard me anyway.

Something hit my leg... hard. I was on the ground, and only realized I was screaming when Ael rushed up with some others.
It's like a large battle... like the ship we took not three weeks ago. I did that with marks on me, too. I only had ten at the time... but it's like a large battle. You're busy killing, you're busy surviving, but when someone next to you gets disembowled, sometimes you can't help but watch.

If you could disembowel a leg, he would have done just that to me.

As it is... I have another SIX. My leg is nearly useless now. SIX MORE TIMES, that word. It's carved deeper than all the rest, partly into the bone.

Until now, I figured I could help. Until now, I thought I could help Kayden.
Now I'm not so sure...

Ael carried me all the way to Peltarch. And to think... I stabbed him more than a couple of times once. He doesn't even hold it against me.

Daisy tried. Gods, she tried. She explained what happened afterwards, since I'll be honest with myself, I don't know what happened. I blacked out. She will not name him to me, but says that "Taker" is an appropriate name, and that I did well to give it to him.

She seems to know about Kayden's marks, and said something about Death? Not like dying, but Death as a first names. "HI, I'm Death, and I'll be serving you today." I would laugh at the thought if it didn't feel like being knifed by hin children.

One more thing before I pass out, I'm dizzy again.

Daisy was afraid. I heard something about love again... but DAISY, was afraid. And I'm up to twenty nine now.

We're so fucked._

  • The writing on this page is light, as if not enough pressure is being put onto the quill, and it's shakier than the last in parts, to the point of stopping several times. It's clear she set down the quill to continue after a rest.

    
_When Kayden dissapeared… with the hands, apparently I was next. I awoke next to him in a cave, and realized very quickly that it was in the same caves where this all started.

I remember seeing him, and reaching for him.
Then I remember waking up strapped to a bark covered bear, on my way out. I think I screamed myself awake.

I'm trying not to be angry.
I know they could only see the one wound on me...
They LASHED ME TO A BEAR!

One on my arm.
Nine across my back, much deeper than the first.
Thirteen across my chest and stomach.

I told them.
I blame the elf.

I've never seen a creature that was not undead or utterly, completely evil, so devoid of emotion. He yelled at me before Kayden vanished, because I was not giving him answers fast enough. Not even I am that cruel...

The rest walked ahead while the bear trundled along behind, I suppose he was trying to be gentle... I ended up just cutting us free. I crawled to the water by the ferryman, and soaked. It took a while to breathe again after the shock of the cold water, but the wounds were numbed enough to let me go to Kayden when I heard him scream.

I swear, every time I hear that, I want to kill something so badly I can hardly see straight. I don't know what it is about him. I hated him when we met. He was ... that's something for another time.

Right now, he was in pain. Those marks, those godsawful fucking marks, black scars that etch their way onto him with no more regard than a quill scores a page... they spread. They knotted. It's almost pretty, except for I know that they hurt him, and they burn to the touch, like an out of control fever.

He was on the ground, and then around him, stones burst forth from the earth. Firey sparks spewed forth from the cracks that appeared, and a figure I can't even remember how to describe was there. All I knew what that this was probably it, and I was probably about to die. I was bled out half to death, weak, and could hardly see straight, but dammit I was going to stab whatever was here to hurt Kayden.

It told me to stay my blade, that it would not be needed... and I think it was telling the truth. It said something about Kayden soon understanding what the markings mean... what they are for. I hardly remember any of this at this point, and can't remember it's face, or f it had one.

It did tell Kayen that he picked well though, looking at me.

Unless he was referring to a thinly sliced piece of meat, yeah right.
At this rate, there won't be any of me left for Kayden.

I need to change these bandages again, it's all I can do to keep blood off of these pages.

Am I even going to last another day?

I have to.
He needs me to.
I would stay my blade for him.

I kissed him. I told him so.

"I would stay my blade for you."

Anybody can kill. It's harder not to.
I hope he knows how much that means from me._

  • A tiny smear of completely visible blood has been wiped off the lower right hand corner of the first page of this entry, and the writing is fairly normal, except that at the end of many lines, the place where her quill rested for a long moment has a few spread out dots, showing either hesitation or contemplation.

    _I have trouble remembering this properly, but I fear that if I wait another day I will either be unable to remember, or unable to write at all.

It came again, the thing I have no name for, the thing that has no face.
It has a voice, but not one that I can remember, or place from any other.
It has a touch, it has a kiss, and I have felt both.
It may have a knife, but I suspect different… the gouges driven into my flesh with all the tender care of a maniac with a scythe, I suspect that they are instead, claws. I don't fear monsters, monsters can be killed.

Monsters don't make a high priest of Lathander piss his britches...

They see it now. Well, one of them.

I was on the watchtower with Kayden, and the fucker whispered in my ear. The same maddening Godsforsaken word, "Mine".

I felt my hair move, I smelled it's rancid corpse-breath, while Kayden stood protectively by me not two feet away, oblivious. The grasping hands from before reacted badly to a Silver tipped blessed stake, and retreated, so perhaps items of a holy make might chase it off?

I did a trick I've done once before. I took the makings of a blessed trap from my pouch, and set it up while it was still in my hands, then released it to fall around me. I'm damned good at not being noticed when I want to, and it worked.

The pieces hit the wood planks below my feet, and I was almost blinded by a searing light, and then... and then there was quiet. No foul stench, no discomfort, only the mockery of those below me who could not see the ten words scrawled into my flesh that bleed as I try to act normally, that bleed more when I fight alongside them, that drip blood nobody can see into the grass at their very feet, amongst their trackers and high and mighty magicks.

The rich dwarf and the haughty mageling taunted me amongst themselves, remarking how silly I was to have set off my own trap. The elf even came up and identified, "The magic after-effect left over from a Holy Trap."

Well congratufuckinlations, fella. It never occured to that silly arsebrained bigeared twit that something could have, oh I don't know, set the trap off?

It struck again while they spoke. Something knocked me over, right onto my arse, while Kayden stood strong beside me, unphased. It felt like wind, but it brought with it the feeling of hate... I have a feeling I didn't do much other than piss it off. I was of course, correct. The walls bloodied themselves in childish writings once more, that familiar hateful, loathesome, mockery of a word, all the way across them._

_**MiNe mInE MiNe mInE MiNe mInE MiNe mInE**_

_I remember Kayden crying out then… it's hard to get a reaction from him, even a cry of pain in a battle. This however... those marks, they're different. The black scar on his face is no longer alone, so longer singular upon him, and it makes me fear for him more than before.

The marks are hot to the touch, fever-hot, where even the skin around them is cool to the touch. I saw him marked right in front of me, before my own wounds burned. There was just the pain from my back... the nine words... the one on my arm... and then that bastard, that cruel fiend from Gods-only-know where, ripped open my chest.

My stomach, my chest, I could feel my skin peeling away, I could feel my own blood dripping like warm honey into my new armor, into the silk-lined-leather, and I couldn't stop it, I couldn't feel it aside from my pain, and I remember screaming. I remember Kayden holding onto me, I remember the sky, and so much pain. Not just my wounds, I felt broken, and I was looking UP at the tower. I fell off... or was pushed.

I remember staring, everyone staring at the crazy girl.

Everyone speculating on what was wrong in my head.

She's mad. She's lost it. She's sick in the head. Must be a mind-fever.

You bastards have no clue. For a moment I wished they knew. I haven't bothered telling anyone but Drelan since it happened, I don't want to be told I'm crazy, or accused of making something up. I have enough trouble holding back from stabbing people who speak without regards to others. Back home I've seen men die for less.

For a moment, I wished I knew.

Was it my fault, what happened next? I blacked out, and awoke in some beareded fella's arms. I couldn't help but scream as I was carved into again. Gods I can only imagine what a nightmare it would be to have some screaming whackjob in your arms...

They brought us to the Lathanderite shrine, and all I can remember is waking again, to the priest screaming. The scent of piss was in the air, and he cowered, and demanded we be taken out. We were taken out, I walked as best I could. . . but as I walked past the walls, they were covered as before._

_**MiNe mInE MiNe mInE MiNe mInE MiNe mInE MiNe mInE**_

_The walls of a Lathanderite temple, smeared in bloody words.
Gods, they saw them. The elf threw questions at us outside like I throw knives. No.. I take care with my knives. He interrogated us while we could hardly speak, getting angry. Tymora's tits I almost threw a knife into his throat. I would have too, if I thought I would have hit him.

I had Kayden lift my shift… I had to see how bad it was.

He cringed at the mess my skin is in... here's hardly anything left of me unmarked. That hateful word is written thirteen times across my stomach, my ribs, my breasts, almost to my neck.

Thirteen...

I move, I bleed.

I breathe, I bleed.

Someone touches me, I bleed, though they feel it not.

Belia told me she saw it. I don't know why, but I feared for her then. I asked the others. Everybody can see ONE... one of them on my front, on my lower ribs. They see the bloody scrawled word, they see it ignore their healings, they see the bleeding.

Then they felt it.

No, none were marked that I know of, but I saw people get sick, others run away, looks of panic and fear, of realization. That's right, I'm not crazy. Am I glad they know now? No... that just means innocent people are going to be hurt, now.

I don't particularly care if somebody gets hurt, mind you.
Everybody is responsible for themselves.
What bothers me is... is this my fault?

I hardly had time to think about this when Kayden was at my side.
I passed out again, apparently, and awoke to his hand on my shoulder, and agony. I felt as if I had been struck by lightning... lightning that didn't stop, it didn't go away, there was no flash of pain, then the uncomfortable tingling buzz... just, pain. Every little cut screamed, I think I did too.

I don't know how long it had gone on for.

He must have come to me when it started.

Oh, was I wrong.

He placed his hand on me again.

I was able to breathe again several minutes later... Gods forgive me I wanted to die. I was being harmed by Kayden's touch.

It took no longer than it did for him to realize this, that he was marked again... another of those horrid black scars. I remember him being on the grass.. I remember getting close... and then I remember those reaching, grasping, horrible hands coming out of the grass, and Kayden vanishing in a wet red mist.

My Kayden.

Mine. Fuck you, whatever you are, I hope you're reading over my shoulder, holding your rancid corpse-breath. He's MINE. I hope you're reading that I will find a way to kill you. I hope you're reading that the things I will do to you will make you wish you had killed me the moment you saw me. I am mine. I pray that the fear you inspired in the Lathanderite pales in comparison to how you'll soil yourself when I find out your weakness. YOU are mine, and there will be such little pieces left of you when I'm done that whatever master you have will cringe from the sight, an forsake your pieces for the dogs, or hellhounds, whatever the case may be.

I name you Taker.

I name you after your desire, so I have something else to keep from you.
I will make your name a mockery, I will make your name a curse.
I will do unto you as you have tried, and curse you as I do so.
You make not take what is mine by right of being freely given, and you may not take me.

As you have written on walls in MY blood, I take that back too.

I am bleeding so much now, I am weak beyond words. By will and reflex alone do I write, walk, speak, breathe, but by WILL and by BLOOD I claim what is. I claim what was. I claim what has been. You son of a hellspawned bitch. This is is your warning._

In Ashe's own blood, just like what covered the walls, is written a word.
Instead of a childish scrawl, a beautiful calligraphic word spans the entire next page, the lines fine and detailed, the edges curling off into vines ending in dagger-shaped petals on blooming flowers. It's message is simple, and though written in red, and outlined in black, it is beautiful, and reads:

[_\_ ~ * M - I - N - E * ~ _ /_](356e7f7cca)

  • Back to her normal handwriting, peaceful, flowing, neat, precise.

    
_I'm not sure those two words mean the same damned thing to me that they once did… anymore. A great purple light got everyone's attention, including mine and Kayden's.

It was right after being raised, too. Damned scaly shiteheads...

There is was, a shining light. Discussions flew, theories, that kinda thing, and you know what? It all passed me by. I only remember looking at a bunch of chests and asking what the HELL happened...

Turns out I went glassy-eyed and walked my happy ass in there.

I'll make a loooooong story short.
A mage named Ezakiel made us play his games.
We did.

I had to kill Kayden.

I gave him a kiss on the lips, the first, and rammed my rapier through his heart. There's this little spot just to the left of the sternum, a couple rubs down, that acts like a guide, and if you hit it, or anywhere near, you go right through, and neatly out the back, between the shoulderblade and a rib.

Just like that.

I did him the honor of looking him in the eyes as he died, at least.
I don't want to forget. The Mage said that they wouldn't truly die, and he had no real reason to lie to us outright at that point... but I still wasn't certain. There was no way though... no way I could ask him to kill me.

He wouldn't do it.

I've been a killer since I was young, it was only right that I did, anyway.

I couldn't help but think as I ended his life... "Mine".

Am I losing it?_

  • Ashe's normally impeccable handwriting is ragged.

    The words are often scratched out and re-written, but the usua straight and smooth lines are marred by obvious tremors in the hand that wrote them, some small and subtle, others as if she was hit while writing.

    Various watermarks dot the pages…

    
_I may as well make this complete… since I made a mess, an somebody may very well find my body, and want to connect the dots to what the feck just happened.

I'll start at the ... well, the newest beginning, as much as I just want to write notes, the little details, and then just... sit someplace and wait for the end.

Kayden hasn't taken me on a date yet. He said he would, but it's understandable why it's not gotten too far yet into the whole, dinner and a dance kind of thing. And yes, I mean dance, like shoes and clothing, you perverted fark. Whoever is reading this, anyway...

Gods, now i'm making excuses not to write about this...

I took him past the farms near Peltarch, and the huge loft where they keep the hay. I even made the obigatory joke about rolling in it as we passed, so he would worry less about the searing pain in my arm, and the constant feeling of my own warm, wet, blood soaking my sleeve.

I still can't believe nobody else can see it.
I see puddles of blood left behind where I sit and place my arm... the word MINE just screams at me every time my on arm enters my vision. Hells, I've even started seeing it through my sleeves, like it purposely soaks upwards through the leather in perfect lines.

Gods, I can't even finish a thought without it haunting me, and I look at my own writing and don't remember going into details again... Gods help me.

We walked past the barns... the windmill, the little farms, to the cliffs.
There's an old ship ther, weathered and broken and useless, just waiting to catch fire from lightning, or fall apart to pieces of of these days. Above it, towards the polar bear lands, there's a gods-be-damned staircase carved into the cliffs, with a neat little hole of a cave you can walk into.

I've been here before, and learned that this perfect, peaceful, interesting little place, full of grass, and sand, and light, is a shrine to Eldath.
What better place to find some peace than with a Goddess of peace's shrine, right?

Gods, I hate being wrong, almost as much as I do being right.

Kayden and I sat in the peaceful spot, and talked. Told stories. Shared little facts about one another... all the little things I miss out on when I'm working, or because theres awkwardness. With Kayden, there's .. I don't know, less of that?

The air was clean, and sweet, and then heavy.

By the nines it was so heavy... and thick, and sickening. I was that same feeling from the cave, the one that makes you want to run, but you know you can't, because the air is so thick you'd run in place. You'd run and run and get nowhere, you'd fall and it would happen so slowly you could pick yourself up without touching the ground, only to find you're still running, and never getting away.

This time, we saw it coming.

Time time, it left footprints in the sand, even though the rest was invisible.

I threw knives.

I threw curses.

I threw up.

Nothing worked,and it got closer, so close I could feel it's breath, and it smelled like damned souls roasted over the pits of hell, left to rot in the suns of a forgotten desert, where the sand is made of bone, and the plants are really limbs of the poorly buried and not-quite dead, reaching for a salvation that will never reach back.

I threw up.

I was on the ground, helpless, feeling like I'd been kicked so hard in the stomach it shook my spine, but over the sound of my own retching, I heard Kayden's shouting.

That damned fool. That idiot, handsome, wonderful farkin' fool. He was screaming at it to take him, to take him instead, to leave me be.
He shoulted and threatened and cursed, and spoke in some tongue that sounds like a rusty knife across a rib in a dark room right next to you while you wait for your turn.

I haven't asked him about that yet, and it was the furthest thing from my mind just then... because then he screamed.

I don't remember clearly after this for a while... I was on my hands and knees, I was trying not to fall in my own vomit, and his scream was not that of a man who was going to live. I've only heard that scream from those mortally wounded, and even then, it usually doesn't last long.

I can't remember how long he screamed. It echoes. I can't make it go away...

I wanted to go to him, but he was on the sand, then... bleeding from his face. I had only a moment to think of him, when I felt it.

The first one I never noticed til I pulled back my sleeve.

This one was different. These ones are different.
It marked me again, digging I don't know what into my back, it's so deep.
I don't know how deep, I can't see my back to tell, but I can feel it. My arm feels like it was done with a needle, my back, with a scythe.

It cut through me while I laid helpless in the sand.
It cut into me while I think I screamed.
It cut my flesh like a knife into leather, the cover of a screaming book.

I think I screamed.

I cried... Kayden came to me, I can't remember what happened next. I remember him, his poor face. He has a black scar now... under all that blood, black. Like a sickness healed wrong... it's so dark.
It's from him ear to his chin, by his lip... it's jagged, it's painful,I know it is. I can see it... I can't help.

There's nothing I can do.
Nothing but bleed. I'm still bleeding. I'm writing this sitting in my own personal blood-puddle. Oh Gods, the puddle. I woke up in it. Or I never slept... we made sure each other were alive. He held me. He sees these too, all nine.

Nine.

MINE.

Nine mines, I'm mine, one, not nine of me. But nine times now, ten total. I am marked. Why? Who? What does it mean?

Nine.

One for each layer of the hells?

I don't know... I remember now though.
That wall, that motherfarker wrote on the dirt cliff wall in front of me._

[_**M i N e**_](a839bfd67e)

_Mocking me. No more.

I got up, and I went after the wall.
Nobody writes in my own blood but me. It's MINE.
I remember clawing a the dirt, I still have dirt and blood under my fingernails. It grabbed at me.

I dodged.

Another… it was arms from the wall, I think. It got my hair, but I pulled free, and kept at it. I wasn't going to stop. I didn't stop.

So many arms, all I remember is a wall of arms, then. I couldn't even SEE the wall... and they got me. I don't know how hard I hit the wall... I remember my ears ringing, and not seeing straight.
I remember what was mine.

Tymora be blessed, Kayden came. He swiped at the arms with something.
He stabbed, I clawed. I scraped, he swiped. The hands backed off, lousy bastards.

Mine.

You can't read the wall any more.

I wonder if anyone else can see the blood this time...

I'm still afraid. I don't care.
I hurt. I can't care.

I wish I didn't have to sleep, so I didn't have to lie to myself._

  • Written across the top in an annoyed scrawl, with doodles to the side of it, probably to help calm herself enough to write properly, is a sentence, the rest follows in her usual neat handwriting, tiny and precise.

    _~~~~~~~~~~ So Much For Living ~~~~~~~~~_

    _Kobolds.

    I am -never- going to fight those scaly little bastards again without either a full crew of sails, or an army… or someone I'm trying to kill.
    We went in seeking plunder, and took a quick trip to the fugue instead. Not a good second date location, frankly.

    I suppose now would be a good time to put my thoughts to paper, and write down exactly WHY we even considered going there at all.
    Sure I love coin, but WHY would I go seeking it like that. Well, here goes.

    A tenday ago, we (Kayden and I) went for a walk, to go explore an old haunt of mine. The old orc battlefields have bandits in them, and I wanted to put them down a peg. I used to get my ass kicked by them often, but who better to learn about sneaking from, than a sneaky enemy?

    We cleaned them out quite well, and moved along, wiping out diseased animals and wandering orcs as we went along... and came across a cave guarded by three of them.

    Well, that was certainly enough to get -my- attention, so we went in.

    The cave was ordinary in every way, and cave-like to a point that resembles what's likely between Mercy's ears. Moisture, rocks, and an echo. It was like that for a whole three feet.

    "Trap" I called back quietly.

    Amateurish set up... cheap trap... mine.
    Oh I do love presents!

    I moved on, and went left, finding a room with... another trap! This time it was on the door, and a moment later I had a fresh trap, and a room full of... sweet, sweet loot! Or well, I assumed it was. There were two or three chests, and several bags, all just waiting for my greedy little fingers. I checked each one, and disarmed each trapped box one at a time. Not only were they trapped, I found, but locked too!

    This, was too good to be true! I admit, it's seldom when all my years of training and practice pay off. Doors are broken by the likes of Jay, traps are tripped when people run ahead of the "Scout", and chests are smashed with complete disregard for the valuable trap that might be on it, regularly.

    I opened my first chest full of reward with a grin! ... and found a bottle of orc whiskey.

    yay.

    Oh well, was in a veritable treasure room! Surely my efforts would pay off after this!

    In the interests of not getting a cramp writing about my dissapointment, I'll spare my future reading self or anyone else the details. Anotherorc whiskey, and a trap I didn't see, and ended up setting off. Thankfully I held my breath, and didn't get poisoned.

    Feeling at least proud of my skills, I went back to Kayden, who'd been patiently watching, and we went to the other side of the caves... and found a small room with a glowing circle in it... complete with ominous red star pattern and floaty, glowy skulls in it. I walked all around it looking for traps, and Kayden tested it a couple times, but nothing seemed to happen... until a Shadow walked out of it.

    I don't know if WE released it, or ... well, what the hell happened. I just don't know, but nothing has been the same since.

    Before I get ahead of myself, I'll try to remember details...

    The shadow attacked. We fought. We were losing, when it left.
    It just scarpered, gone. Nothing.
    Another came at some point, maybe even the same one, and walked through a wall, and we didn't see it again... then the Godsbedamned circle exploded. Thankfully we were on the other side of the wall, but plenty close enough to feel the heat wash over us... but it was gone, and so was any trace of those shadowcritters.

    Figuring the same thing, "Necromancers", Kayden and I moved on. No sense in letting whackjobs like that run free, right?

    We didn't make it another fifty feet down the hall, when we both felt something. It was like the air got heavy, and thick... and then I heard it. Footsteps, behind us.

    I don't know who's sneaky enough to get past me like that besides Drow perhaps... but I moved, and was ready for the foe that never came. Nothing, noone, nowhere. We heard more steps... and suddenly, even hidden against the wall in the shadows like I was, I KNEW it could see me.

    What "IT" is, I still don't know, but I should have run.
    Gods help us we should have run. We should have run and never looked back. Now it's too late...

    We stayed, hopin to press through that horribl feeling, and take care of whatever was wrong in there, Gods the feeling of wrongness in there was horrible. I almost wanted to gag, even the air felt... I don't know, evil. Watching. Waiting.

    We finally couldn't take it any more. Nerves were on fire, couldn't think just nodded dumbly when he said we should go, and then it happened. I felt the lightest touch at my arm, like a tiny scratch on my jacket.

    I ignored it, and kept backing up. Little further... little further... we were fine until my arm tickled. That scratch, through my jacket, why the fark did my arm feel wet?

    I swear by Tymora's Tits if I could go back to that moment I would never have looked. Every time I close my eyes I see it again, and when I open them... well, it's still there.

    Scratched into my arm ... shitty handwriting, like a five year old with a knife... is the word_

    "M I N E"

    _We ran.

    I don't remember starting to run. I remember my arm. I remember the cave. I remember suddenly being halfway to the scar, and feeling the tears soaking my face, and my swords in my hands. I forget how they got there.

    Kayden put up with I don't know how much blubbering out of me, bless his heart… shite, he was more concerned with me than himself, even being chewed on, as we got out of there.

    We took me to a healer, then, to see if there was some kinda dark magic that done it, and make sure it wasn't in me. Norwick healers.
    That bitch, she laughed at me. She called us idiots, and said not to waste her time. There's nothing wrong with my arm. Nothing. No cuts. No words.

    I looked from my arm to her, and her mocking face STILL shows up to me when I think about it.

    It's been two days, and the wounds haven't closed.
    It's been two days, and nobody but Kayden and me have seen them.
    It's been two days, and I bleed, and hurt, and fear.
    It's been two days... and it's already visited again.
    It's been two days since I've not been terrified to sleep.

    If this is what two days into whatever has happened to me is like... I'm so afraid to wake up tomorrow.

    Gods I'm so afraid._