3. Guarded Thoughts - Clayton Greyfeather's Journal

Guarded Thoughts - Clayton Greyfeather's Journal


  • _”Here’s a toast for loneliness
    Sometimes it just makes so much sense…
    Every night I drink alone,
    I’m happier than I could have ever known…”

    “All The Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues” – Senses Fail_

    I sit here at a table in the Grapevine… alone.

    Dondiah is just upstairs, sleeping in the room we tend to share. But I find myself unable to sleep tonight. I am still unsure of what possessed me to actually sit and write down the things that clutter my mind. It’s a mistake. My thoughts are my own, and by placing them on paper I am creating the chance for them to fall into another’s hands. Give them power over me. For them to know every little detail of what plagues my mind is unacceptable…

    However, I am also recording thoughts that may be long gone in years to come. Thoughts that I just don’t want to lose, godsbedamned. It is best that I do write what is on my mind, and guard this book with what life I have to give.

    For the longest time, I have been alone. This is the life I chose for myself. Whether it is in the Rawlinswood, or in the corner of the room, I find myself at my best when I am alone. When I am alone, I have nobody to blame for my failures but myself. It cuts down on the risk of the unknown. I already have the lands as a variable, the hunt as a variable, the weather, the wind, the sounds… all variable. The last thing I need is for my own actions to be variable. By isolating myself, I’ve kept myself sharp. I know what I am capable of, and I don’t have to pussyfoot around situations because I don’t know what my group is capable of.

    This doesn’t mean I refuse to hunt with others. I do so often. However, to me we are just separate hunters, on the same hunt. I know my abilities better than anyone, and therefore, I refuse to take orders from those who are not me. Likewise, I respect them and don’t give orders back to them. I have no right to tell someone what to do, nor do they have the right to tell me.

    Does this make me an asshole?

    Maybe.

    I overheard something the other day. I walked to the south fire, where a group of six or seven had gathered to tell stories. I felt like relaxing for once, so I walked past the gate and sat on the outside, my back against the wood. I let my eyes fall closed for a moment. When my eyes are closed, my ears and my nose are forced to work overtime.

    I heard some whispers, my name included.

    “A good guy, he just enjoys his own company, it seems.”

    I wonder what it is about people that makes them –need- others around them. If I surround myself with people, I am setting them up for disappointment. Either I will leave them, or they will leave me… it’s the way of life. You can’t stop change, as the torrent will pull you under if you try. It’s best to just flow with the current, and make what you can out of where it takes you.

    Everyone leaves. You’re left alone. It’s best to get used to it.

    A last line is scribbled into this at the last minute, it is jagged and rushed, though seems to be the same handwriting.

    For once… I hope this isn’t completely true.


  • _"People tell me slow my role, I'm screamin' out 'F*** that!'
    I'm gonna do just what I want, look at me now, no turning back
    If I fall, if I die, know I lived it to the fullest
    If I fall, if I die, know I lived by missing bullets
    I'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know
    Everything that shines ain't always gonna be gold
    I'll be fine once I get it
    I'll be good once I get it"

    "Pursuit of Happiness" - Kid Cudi_

    I took Dondiah to our favorite spot in the Rawlinswood, and it was there that I got on one knee and told her my devotion to her. I told her how without her I would be lost and broken. I would have no home, nor would I have anything to live for. I asked her to become my wife.

    She cried, but nodded with tears in her eyes and the biggest smile I've ever seen on her beautiful face.

    I've lived through the things I've lived through because of Fenmarel's teachings. I've looked out for myself, and only myself. I relied on no man or woman other than myself. This was good. This was enough to protect me from the dangers of the world, and enough to keep me safe to protect others for the most part.

    But living for nothing but your own survival is a sad existence indeed. Dondiah showed me this, even if it was not in her plan to do so. She made me believe that these woods are my home, and my place is beside her. She makes me think of children, of a small house in the woods, and of a life that could be filled with so much more than just "staying alive".

    She made me believe that all the years I've spent keeping myself alive… were so that I could share all of this with her.

    I spent some time with Eluriel the other day. She seemed at first surprised by my demeanor... though, I'm much more approachable when I'm not being hunted and tortured by drow, and my one true love has just agreed to be my mate for life. She talked a lot of her past in the Rawlinswood, and asked me of my own. Of the bond I feel to the forest. How I would protect it as if it were a child of mine. She also asked me to show her my favorite spots in the Rawlinswood.

    I could only think to take her to the spot that we love dearly, where we first saw the white stag... where we first kissed, where we shared our secrets to each other, and where I asked her to marry me.

    I think Dondiah would smile to know I was opening up to people about her.

    Eluriel then took me to fight some hobgoblins, and commented on my fighting abilities, and I admit, it felt nice to be complimented in such a way. Though I think it was more of surprise, and less of my own ability. I hadn't been focused too much on hunting, more so on guarding for so long... it felt nice to cleanse a bit of the woods.

    She shared with me her favorite spot. An aged apple tree that she and Sy'wyn had both cared for at some point. It was quite beautiful in it's simplic- (The pen carries off into a streak across the page, ending in a lipstick kiss about the size of a certain little elfie's mouth.)


  • _Every step he took felt slightly less certain than the last. Sapphire eyes scanned the dark woodlands, his stubble-surrounded mouth twisting and twitching with each noise he picked up. Clayton had found himself in a forest he had never known before, yet the feeling in the pit of his stomach was not fear, worry, nor even curiosity. It was a sense of the unnatural, yet it affected him in a way that could only be described as natural. There was moonlight illuminating his path through the trees, yet Selune had not shown herself in the night sky. This anomaly did not seem out of the ordinary to him for some reason, and though he could not tell where his exhausted legs were carrying him, he somehow knew he was travelling deeper into the strange wood.

    He felt wary, yet relaxed… placing his hand solidly on each tree trunk he passed, feeling a sense of calm pour over his otherwise stressed psyche. The trees themselves were beautiful, with a hue that resembled a deep purple in the moonlight. Their leaves, large and purplish-olive in color, allowed just enough light through for Clayton’s half-elven eyes to navigate the darkness as he treaded further into this unnatural place.

    He heard and saw not a thing, but could feel the animals around him. There were birds that sang in a haunting tune… the howl of a wolf that was not quite right. It was not his ears that recognized these things, but his soul… if there was such a thing. Everything around him was so beautiful, yet there was something missing from the land. He knew what it was, but couldn’t visualize it, nor put a name to it.

    A terrified scream pierced the air, the first sound Clay could hear with his highly sensitive ears. His head jerked to the right, the screeching guiding him in the direction of whatever it was that he could hear in this otherwise unearthly place. He wracked his mind for memories, none of which seemed to be triggered. Whatever was making this noise however… it pained him to hear their fear, and their pain.

    He broke into a sprint, keeping his head low out of instinct and habit as he weaved between purple-tinted tree trunks, and leaped over ambushing underbrush. A small, reflective creek that looked to be made of liquid crystal stood between him and his destination, and he had no intention of letting that stop him. Leaping the eerily still ravine, he landed on the other side with a tumble, rolling up to his feet once more, not allowing his momentum to slow one bit.

    As he reached what he believed to be the source of the screaming, his blue eyes locked onto a clearing in the middle of these woodlands, where the moonlight barely cut away the darkness protecting the vibrantly blue grass that was surprisingly noticeable even in the failing light. He drew his longsword from the hardened scabbard on his belt, allowing the darkened metal to breathe the cool night air as its emerald eye glinted in the darkness. The light through the canopy sheared through the shadows just enough to expose the source of the wailing to Clayton.

    The naked elfie stood alone in the shaft of light, a look of serene fear in her face. Her golden hair falling just below her shoulders, she kept her eyes closed as the shadows seemed to lick at her slightly bronzed skin. Clayton opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came forth. Her eyes opened to look directly into his anyway, as if she had heard his call… and the sky blue windows to her heart told him she was frightened, though when his eyes met hers, they quickly changed into a look of relieved confidence. She parted her beautiful lips to speak, and as she did, the shadows collapsed around her, swirling and engulfing her into a sphere of the darkest black. Clay screamed his noiseless scream, and charged into the clearing… foolishly, driven by love and fear. His sword cut through the sphere of darkness first, and his body followed through shortly after.

    As he passed into the sphere, he found that he was no longer a guest in the strange forest, but was in the foyer of a large mansion. He heard the sound of impacting flesh, and when he tightened his grip on his corrosive blade, he realized for the first time that it was no longer in his hand. Reaching frantically to his hip, he soon came to learn that the scabbard was missing as well. Crouching into a low stance, he stalked around the corners of the intricately designed house, following the wet sounds of something having its life taken from it forcefully, in little pieces at a time.

    He finally came to a hallway with many rooms. He felt that he had been here before, but also felt that he did not belong. The sounds came from the only open door, the final one on the right side of the corridor. As his inquisitive eyes peeked around the entryway, he saw four men standing, and one lying face down on the ground. One of the men dressed in various colored silks and golden jewelry… most obviously a noble. The two men on either side of him were armored, but their gauntlets were removed, and Clay deduced that they were most likely his personal guard.

    The fourth man on his feet was about 5’11, and had long red hair pulled into a ponytail loosely, showing his slightly pointed ears to the world who wished to see. He wore darkened leathers, was obviously a ranger, and his blue eyes watched quietly as the three other men assaulted the bloody man on the ground. Their heavy hands came crashing down on the man’s fragile face, his thin blood splattering against the marble floor.

    Clay quietly walked over to stand next to the ranger… the quiet redhead in front of him had no worry on his face, and looked like he had almost ten years less of problems and issues to corrode his body and mind than Clay had been through. The noble stood up straight, wiping his bloody hands on one of the guard’s cloak, and reached into his pocket for a small pouch of gold. He tossed it to the quiet ranger, and time seemed to stand still as the leather bag floated in the air over the bloodied man before the ranger reached out to snatch the coin out of the air and slide it into his pack.

    “Clean up the mess. The family can deal with the repercussions.” The noble said with a disgusted look on his face. The ranger nodded and knelt down in front of Clay, picking the broken body up over his shoulder before walking towards the entryway. When Clayton watched the ranger walk away, he realized the body he carried was no longer that of a man… but of the blonde elfie from the woods, beaten, broken, naked…

    His face turned into a pained snarl as he reached down and jerked his hunting knife from the sheath on his thigh. Charging soundlessly at the noble, he didn’t know why, but he knew that this man had to die. His blade inverted in his hand and lifted over his head, he lunged at the noble with all of the pain and torment that swirled in his broken heart.

    Then he felt the chill.

    He instinctively looked down to find a beautifully crafted adamantine longsword was buried inside his abdomen. The metal was unnaturally cold to the touch, but maybe that was due to the shock… he couldn’t be bothered to worry which it was. The hilt was grasped by a dark hand, and when Clayton finally gathered the strength to glance up, his eyes were met by two blood red eyes placed deep in a charcoal gray frame. The detail was too hard to remember as his vision became blurry and he fell to the bloodsoaked marble underneath him._

    Clayton’s eyes shot open, his body catapulting to a seated position in the bed he had fashioned from various materials and stuffed with wool. He glanced down to the 4 inch scar just between his lungs, under his sternum. He couldn’t see the matching one on his back. His sudden movements had woken the beautiful elfie next to him, and her sleepy blue eyes looked up to him, concern-filled and tired as she wrapped her arms around him.

    “What’s wrong, honey?”

    His breathing starting to get deeper, after realizing his shallow breaths would worry her even more than they already had. He smiled down to her, knowing he couldn’t hide anything, and that she already knew what was wrong. She had known everything about him, about his past, his present, and was a direct connection to his future. He held her face gently and kissed her even more so.

    “Nothing darlin’. Just a nightmare.”

    She nodded with a slight smile on her lips as they lay back down, his arms wrapped around her for the night.


  • _"They won't get me, they won't get me,
    though they never cease to try…
    They won't get me, they won't get me,
    I would rather fight and die...
    They won't get me, they won't get me,
    though my friend when they get you...
    When they get you, when they get you,
    Tell me what you gonna do?

    "The Gauntlet" - Dropkick Murphys_

    _The entire page is covered in chickenscratch, and multiple sentences that have been scribbled out. There is a small drawing of a man with one ear holding a small figure at his side, sword outstretched, while many dark figures surround them in the woods. The words "NEVER", "SLEEP", "ALONE", "TOGETHER", and "SAVE" appear underneath the harsh scribbles, scrawled in what seems to be a state of intoxication or exhaustion.

    The entire page looks different from previous journal entries._


  • _“This is hardly worth fightin' for
    But it's the little petty shit that I can't ignore
    When my fist hits your face
    And your face hits the floor
    It'll be a long time comin'
    But you got the message now
    'Cause I was never goin'
    Yeah, you're the one that's goin' down”

    “You’re Going Down” by Sick Puppies_

    We went to the abyss the other day.

    It was a rescue mission. Some guy from Damara stumbled into the Mermaid, asking us to find a few of his friends that were taken into a portal in the gnoll woods. We agreed to help out, after hearing that the group was in need of a tracker. I was the only one in the group with that particular set of skills. So I tagged along.

    Yelling. Screaming. Complaining. Beating hearts. Demons. Gnolls.

    Collapsing Towers. Gnoll demon lord.

    The sword.

    Got a really nice sword out of it… corrodes anything it slices into. And the green gem in the pommel seems to deflect acidic damage. Very useful.
    Just when I thought it was time to relax, Dondiah told me Hammer had been trying to get her to sit in his lap. She said she walked away because the situation was too uncomfortable.

    I don’t walk away.

    I found Hammer outside the south gate, stripped off my leathers, demanding he take off his armor and fight me like a man. Fist to fist. He accepted, which I was so very happy to hear.

    As I waited for him to strip his armor, he began to pray…

    The son of a bitch was asking for Tempus’s blessings for a godsbedamned fist fight.

    His muscles doubled in size… his hands began to glow with a divine light. I cursed his cowardice, and raised my hands… at least I knew his god was there to watch me kick his ass.

    He swung, I dodged, came back with a punch to the jaw. He got a few connections in… motherfucker hits like a bear. But I’m no slouch myself. I had him beaten… damn near done. Then he started praying again, with his hands to the sky… His skin took on a hardened sheath… and my punches did little to nothing. He grinned, continuing to pray, as his hands began to glow yet again. I pounded on him, breaking away at the hardened magical shell surrounding his body. Eventually, I broke through… though his cowardly ways had left me worse for wear. Dondiah stepped in as Hammer was smirking, saying the following in my ear:

    “If he’s gonna cheat, I’m gonna even the field.”

    She touched my shoulder, and a few of my bruises healed… leaving me looking about as beat up as my opponent. The field was fair now… except he still had his God’s blessings. Except his magical shield was shattered…

    My turn.

    I charged, leaping and connecting hit after hit… he found it hard to hit me, even with the guidance of his god. I pounded him down to the ground. I stepped back as soon as he fell. I thought I had proven my point. I watched him stand up… and pray to his god yet again, healing his bruises and bloodied body until he was in much better health than I was. I cared not, the fight was won. I left myself as was.

    Then he started casting again. The glowy hands… yet again.

    The cowardly bastard charged me.

    Even though he was protected by his god. Even with his strength augmented and his body in better health than mine… I told Dondiah to stay back as I continued to fight the man who was embarrassed in the eyes of his deity. I beat the living hell out of him yet again because he seemed to love it. Blood spewed from his nose, as I broke it for a second time and an uppercut sent to his jaw laid him back out on the ground. I spit on him and told him he never learns.

    As Donnie and I sat in the woods, me healing my wounds and holding her close… we were attacked.

    A drow.

    He beat us within an inch of our lives. Tied us up…. Went to speak with… someone. He came back and leaned over us… he reached up with a blade, and sawed my ear off.

    I screamed… all I could think was…

    At least it wasn’t her.

    The drow left… and a guard with a halberd ran up to protect us. He ordered a couple people to carry us to the gate. He told Vash’t to grab me, which he did… then he told Hammerhand who had walked up to carry Dondiah.

    “Fuck ‘em. Let ‘em rot.”

    Tempus favors that dishonorable bastard?

    I passed out for a second. I woke up at the gate, in Dondiah’s arms… Soliel used a scroll of regeneration to grow my ear back.

    The ink looks scribbled, and a bit has been spilled on the page. A small lipstick kiss is left after the last sentence.

    I… can’t write anymore. Dondiah is getting bored here at our –hideout-. I’m not even going to try to pay attention to this journal now.


  • _“I wanted you to know… that I love the way you laugh,
    I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away.
    I keep your photograph, I know it serves me well
    I wanna hold you high and steal your pain…

    Cause I’m broken… when I’m open,
    And I don’t feel like I am strong enough
    Cause I’m broken… when I’m lonesome
    And I don’t feel right when you’re gone away…”

    “Broken” by Seether_

    I fell.

    We were on our way to fight gnolls… who was there and why everything happened is no matter. All that matters is what happened.

    Near the Eastlander’s bridge, I heard a scream for help. Not knowing the situation, I could only assume that someone had gotten on the wrong side of the Hoarrans, and broke into a full sprint, the rest of the group behind me. Dondiah, Hammerhand, Del… They all followed.

    When we arrived, we saw the very slightly wounded hoarran, sword still bloodied from the previous murder. I drew my bow, and loosed the first arrow, piercing his plate and his flesh, angering him. Del and Dondiah hopped the ridge, charging with their blades raised…

    Del was slain quickly.

    Dondiah fought with all her heart, but sadly we were outmatched. She fought like a little elfie warrior poet, her sword singing as she brought it crashing into his shield. She was holding her own until he pushed her with his shield, causing her to misstep, and he brought his blade down into her.
    “No!” my head screamed. I felt every bit of pain she could have felt, the thoughts that ran through my mind cause so much pain to me I refuse to even record them in paper, as nobody who reads this should have to go through what I went through at that moment.

    I threw my bow to the ground, leaping from the ridge. I didn’t care where anybody else was… my mind blanked that anyone existed other than me, her, and the man attempting to end my beloved’s life. I ran with all the strength in my legs, drawing my longsword from its resting spot on my hip, and slinging my shield to my shield arm. When I reached them, he was just about to rain death upon her. I lowered my stance and slammed my shield into him with all of my momentum, knocking him off his feet for a second.

    His focus shifted…

    It worked.

    “Run Dondiah!” I screamed as our swords clashed, a seasoned fighter in fullplate matching blades with a simple ranger clad in leather armor. Every strike I made was a massive effort, piercing at his shoulder, his knee… anywhere the joints connected, trying to find a weakness in his metal defense. Meanwhile his blade made short work of my leathers, and my flesh.

    I had him breathing heavily, he was bleeding to death where he stood, unrecognizable. Dondiah behind him, slashing where she could… we had him down to one last swing.

    That’s when his blade filled my stomach.

    I gurgled, spitting blood over his helm and his blade… looking down at the blade soaked in my blood. I looked over to Dondiah, her eyes wide with fear and loss… and with my last breath of life I whispered…

    “I’m sorry.”

    I fell to the ground, my eyes open for just a moment longer, to see Hammerhand come out of nowhere to deliver the finishing blow on the man I had wounded to near death. With Dondiah’s life guaranteed to be safe… I closed my eyes… and went to sleep.

    I awoke in some… plane. It was there… and not there. I felt healthy, and sick. Weak and strong. I was surrounded and alone… it was unsettling to say the least. My mind wandered to the day my ring stopped glowing. The pain in my heart, the weakness throughout my body. I stumbled from wall to wall in Peltarch, screaming her name, looking for her frantically. The feeling I felt I hadn’t felt in 8 years.

    I felt lost.

    My mind was snapped back to reality by a voice speaking to me…in what could only be described as a lizard’s tongue. I followed it, hoping it would give me a chance to see her once again…

    I was laying in the Temple of Chauntea… A redhaired woman looking over me, and my head in Donnie’s lap, her weakly sobbing. The pain I must have caused her hurts to even imagine. It seems even in attempting to protect her from harm, some harm will come. This is something we share because of our bond, and something we must learn to expect… though I will never be okay with harm coming to her. I must strive to keep us both safe.

    (The paper seems stained, and the last words a bit hurried, as if someone was trying to get it over with.)

    The Silver Valley held a festival of the harvest this past week. I showed up late upon my horse with no name… but was able to spot Dondiah from a mile away. She had on that pink dancing outfit she knows I love. The joy in her face when she saw me was worth every bit of harm that had come to me in the previous days, and I’d relive it a thousand times over to be greeted by that kind of love.

    It was relatively short-lived, as she wanted to help Cara Leatherpants out, who had been drinking a bit too much and was puking into the creek. I gave them their “Girl time” and went to the archery booth. I won a small doll for Dondiah, then spoke with Einhrich for a few moments. The man seems to have a good sense of what’s right in the world, and knows how to handle himself. May not be a problem to hunt in the same woods as he.

    Cara left in a hurry, and Dondiah took me somewhere to talk. It seems Cara thinks she is in love with me, and that is why she has been acting so strange. I was surprised… Dondiah however was not.

    Oh… the highlight of my week?

    Dondiah told me she had something to show me… took me by the pinky and led me through Norwick to a secluded corner of the fairgrounds. She told me to close my eyes… with my eyes closed I heard the rustling of clothes being taken off. She told me to open my eyes. When I did, she stood there… looking amazing…

    In a long, flowing, white dress.

    She told me she was saving it for her wedding… Later, she told me she liked the name Dondiah Greyfeather.

    I don’t think I’ve ever felt so… exactly where I’m supposed to be.


  • _“I don’t mind where you come from… as long as you come to me.
    And I don’t like illusions… I can’t see them clearly.
    I don’t care, no I wouldn’t dare to change the twist in you.
    You’ve shown me eventually what you’ll do…
    I don’t mind…
    I don’t care…
    As long as you’re here…”

    “All The Same” – Sick Puppies_

    Why does it matter to anyone what my past is, or the past of anyone else for that matter?

    To judge someone on their past actions is to be foolish, to make conclusions based on a lack of information. You don’t know what caused them to do what they had done. A murderer to you, may be the protector of a young girl who was being threatened. A thief? A father feeding a starving family. A man who helps those around him? Maybe causing himself to face atonement for an act that eats him alive when he lies down to rest at night. (That last line scribbled with a bit more emotion than the rest.)

    I overheard the Legion’s Hin general say something to a recruit of his. “You’re worth more than a drug-addict, you’re a member of the Legion, and I won’t let you fall to that level” I don’t remember the words exactly… but this was the main point.

    I told him that he should tell that to the drug-addict’s family. Tell them their husband, their brother, their son and father… was worth less than another man’s life, simply because of decisions each one chose throughout their lives.

    It doesn’t matter to anyone what drives a man to do what he does… just the actions he takes when he can’t be pushed any further.

    I went with a group to fight the Gnolls that gather south of Peltarch. Initially, it was a small group. Dondiah, I, Dash, and Havon. It soon grew to twice that size… and halfway to the woods, Dondiah forgot she had an errand to run in the city (probably picking something up from the store we visited) which left me with a lot of people.

    I left.

    I slid unnoticed into the woods, and waited to see how these men and women would fight… smart, or stupid. First I heard one of them complaining… when they first reached the woods.

    “Clay bailed on us.”

    -I- bailed on –them-?

    It is not my place to do anything for anyone. I choose what I do, when I do it. It is not my –job- to be where people want me to be… yet…

    I was there.

    When the gnolls charged. When the archers were swarmed.

    I drew an arrow, stepped from the trees, and put it in the warrior’s neck. I drew my blade, and got their attention long enough for everyone to heal and regroup. We made short work of them.

    We continued our trek, dropping the dogfaces before they even saw me. Until one caught me off guard.

    An archer. a ranger… a tracker of some sort. He shot arrows at us, then ran… attempting to lure us into traps. Multiple times I was able to sneak up on him… lodge my blade deep in his gut before he howled and ran off to another part of the woods. We didn’t give up on him. How did it go?

    I now wear his leathers.

    Donnie told me a bit more of her past the other night. I think she was worried of what I’d think of her. I told her that I don’t care at all what happened to her before me, it will not change the way I look at her. The way my heart reacts when I smell her walking towards me. It was much like the smile that crossed her face when I gave her the wildflowers I had collected for her.

    She smiled at me, her sky blue eyes causing me to forget my own past… even for a moment.

    That was all I needed.


  • _”A hero of war… is that what they see?
    Just medals and scars… so damn proud of me?
    I brought home that flag… now it gathers dust.
    Cause it’s the flag that I love… it’s the only thing I trust.”

    -“Hero of War” by Rise Against_

    Everyone mentions to me how skilled I am, though I know most of it is just an effort to get me to open up to them, I appreciate the complement most of the time. Whether it’s Doni telling me how amazing I am with my bow, or Cara mentioning I’m the only competent person in the group, to even Thorn asking me to scout ahead, knowing he is the better scout. All of these things are fine and good… but…

    I don’t –enjoy- taking the lives of any living thing. The greenskins included. I would treaty with them, even going so far as to help them from an enemy too strong for them to fight on their own… if I could be sure they would not harm the travelers in the Rawlinswood,. This alone is what forces me to fight.

    I’m not a fighter. I’m not a soldier… hell, I’m not even a scout anymore.

    I’m a hunter. I’m a protector.

    I’m a ranger.

    This means more to me than any knight’s oath. Any rogue’s gold. It’s a calling. And if I could honestly say I enjoyed having to kill living things that only wish to make the woods their home and give it respect? Then I’d have lost my way somewhere along the path.

    She was attacked by wolves and greenskins, swarmed even. I stepped from the woods, and loosed arrows as quickly as I could, dropping her attackers before they could harm her. Even though they all intended to cause her pain, even end her life… she looked sad as she saw their bodies.

    She told me she hates to cause death upon anything… though she does it when necessary, it’s not something she enjoys. Even to the point of causing sadness.

    I told her that it was the way of the lands. Eat or be eaten. Do unto others as they –intend- to do unto you.

    She said she knew. But that didn’t mean she had to like it.

    I couldn’t help but smile.


  • ”I trust two people in this world. One of them’s me… the other ain’t you.”
    -Cameron Poe, “Con-Air”

    I’m looked down upon in this place. People assume I’m anti-social, or don’t like them solely because I choose to rely on myself instead of others.

    Offense is taken when I wave off potions that are being given to me, or any type of supply for that matter. I actually don’t care if people get pissed at me… I don’t need their help. I can survive on my own. I’ve done it for years and years.

    Doni asked me a question that I wasn’t sure how to answer once. We were sitting alone by a waterfall, in a place separated from civilization… a white stag grazing nearby. She asked me if I had ever been in love before. I told her no… that I wasn’t even sure what it was, or what it felt like.

    She began to explain it to me.

    You find the one who makes you smile all the time… the one that makes you feel like wherever you are… you belong there because you are with them.

    The one you can trust with anything.

    Love is dangerous. Trust is not something to just be given so that it can be dishonored and destroyed, broken and yanked away again. What many don’t realize is that trust and love are two sides of the same coin. You cannot have love without trust, else it is simply lust.

    The one you love is your greatest friend, and your worst enemy. They know all of your secrets, all of your weaknesses, and they know exactly how to exploit them. The pain is tenfold because the person causing it is one that your heart belongs to, and you can feel it tearing away with each infraction.

    You trust the one you love to never take advantage of this. As I said before, love is impossible without trust, therefore, trust is not something that should be passed out to anyone. On the contrary, trust nobody until you can be certain they will never want to harm you.

    This is a hell of a thing to be certain about, that someone will NEVER want to cause you pain, no matter what happens to either of you.

    That being said?

    I trust Dondiah.

    She looked me in the eyes last night, and told me she is falling in love with me. I held her hand in mine and told her that I trust her… with everything. I told her I was falling for her as well…

    I hope she understands that means the same thing to me.