3. The Long Walk, a Black Lion's Tale.

The Long Walk, a Black Lion's Tale.


  • _I almost forgot about this thing again.

    Sitting alone in the jailer's room to collect my thoughts actually seems to have worked, so I had may as well put them to paper while they're still in my thick head. My return has been… well, eventful. It's gone well though!

    Things with Ashena are just as they were when I left, save a little tremor of nervousness I get whenever we part now. Things were odd for the first few days I was back though, but not with her. It was everybody else! It turns out (And I really shouldn't be surprised!) that I was well known to people I had never met, even based solely on my appearance.

    "Hey, you're Cecil!"

    "Oh, I know all about you!"

    "I've heard so much!"

    I fear I blushed a great deal the first week of my return but things are a little bit calmer now, more normal, and well... it feels like home again. It was strange, feeling like a stranger after not being gone that long, or at least... I don't feel like it was that long. And the not remembering is frustrating. Or it was.

    There's a load of nonsense about some puppetmaster freak, and he's put quite a hurt on my friends, both from making them harm one another, even in the process of keeping him out of each other's heads, to making them doubt themselves, and worse, one another.

    Shallyah and Talindra seem to have it the worst at the moment, Shallyah because she was compromised, and Talindra because of the rampant fear and distrust in the group, and it's unfailing ability to make things awkward, if not dangerous, constantly. I hope I've been the help to her that she says I have, though I'm sure she was honest. She -is- very honest, and I find myself feeling very protective of her, and not because she's one of Ashena's squires.

    Allestor killed Fendon while I was away, and is quite the well known hero for it. I for one, am -very- pleased that he stayed around. I enjoyed his company, and fighting beside him, and on top of all that? Nobody teases -me- about bring a hero any more! It suits him, and therefore, me too! That kind of talk always did make me feel a little awkward, like people were putting me into shoes that were far too big.

    Mending the damage done to Norwick's reputation is proving to be slow, but I feel that I -can- make a difference here, just like I did when I first joined the guard, and put a stop to a lot of the senseless dick-swinging brutality that the guard was known for. It's going to be harder now, mostly it seems, due to Davos running his mouth, and doing his best to piss off -everyone-. Sometimes I wonder whose side he's really on. You cannot trust a supposed carpenter who purposely puts cracks into a foundation.

    Lady Rith loaned me a sword, which I quickly found myself not really being the right bearer for, which I passed on, having misunderstood her directions about -how-, but I hear that got resolved. It was definitely a loan, and I overstepped my bounds by entrusting it to someone, like a silly ass, without remembering her wishes, or consulting her first. Thankfully, she forgave me and seems to have cleared up my mistake. I hope to make it up to her and Andrew both, somehow.

    Val is still here, and still very much Val. It's reassuring to say the least. Shallyah, however, has changed. For the better. She seems to have let go slightly, of the feeling that she is merely a tool, and instrument of her God and beliefs, and despite some of the hardship and confusion that has come with it, seems happier than I've ever seen her, at least until this puppetmaster business reared it's ugly head again. I WILL find a way to help her be free of this ridiculous burden that this puppetmaster fool has brought upon us all. In the meantime, I'll settle for just being there. For now.

    Between Shallyah and Val, I was even able to get something very nice made for Ashena. I cannot WAIT to see her face! More than usual, even, which is saying quite a lot. I have more to make up to her than anyone, though she would never say it, if she has even thought it. Her family is also on my mind a lot. I have a lot of proving to do to them that I'm not going to disappear again... though for weeks I had no idea even HOW or WHY I vanished.

    Last night's dream changed that.

    Now I get to sit here alone in the almost-dark, and calm myself, so that I can think clearly on how to get those bastards back. I will probably have to ask Val to clarify something that I think I saw, and fill me in on the parts I just don't understand... but at least the headaches are gone.

    Walter is still here, and stronger than I've ever seen him, and makes a hell of a compliment to the team, even more than before, especially beside Andrew and Allestor, which is no surprise. Dermin, too. Reynauld is often with them as well, and formidable too. I was lucky enough to duel several of them, and Shallyah in the same day, and managed to win each match, except against Shallyah. Then again, she won the fight without armor against all three of at once, too. No surprise there!

    Before I fall asleep again, as I can already feel the darkness lulling me back into a slumber, I have to write down Ky's vague vision warning. A horde of demons is apparently going to end up in Norwick, and he was told to beware.

    I MUST get this place ready, and more than that, be ready myself. We lost Norwick once when I wasn't available on the front lines (Not that I could have turned that tide, from all accounts), but this time, I MUST do more. First, fix relations with those than can aid us, so that they WANT to again, and next, get evacuation plans prepared, and get the Mostly Raumviri guard (Most of the old guard died or left after the taking of the town) prepared too, and in better standing in town. I've heard disturbing things about bullying and tyrant-like behavior, and I won't stand for it, even if I have to fight them myself.

    May the Lion grant me wisdom, patience, and strength of mind in the times to come.

    I'm going to need it._


  • _Well, all things considered, not a bad start.

    I mean yeah, there's the whole, "Where the hell have I been, and how the hell did I get home." question on my mind, and my poor timing at finding out that I arrived after Ashena had left for a short while, -and- finding out that I missed the entire period that the temporary treaty was in place, AND finding out that Davos somehow royally pissed off… well, everyone ever... but I can get past that.

    I got my head checked by Galin. Or rather, my soul and ... whatever part of you magical stuff sits as far as compulsions or something goes, and I'm in the clear, which is almost completely a good thing.

    I kind want to know who had me, and why, and perhaps why they let me go.

    It's not terribly important, but I do want to know. Til then, I'll focus on trying to get rid of this monster of a headache. Ow. Write more in the morning._


  • 5 years have passed since the journal was touched. Five years, and very few answers have come from it, even for Cecil himself. That, however, is a story for another day. For now, a certain Talindra has agreed to send a letter for him, so once more, quill touches page, and words take their written form, from heart, to hand, to paper.

    _My dearest Ashena,

    First, let me say what I've been feeling this whole time, and that which has never stopped for a moment. "I love you." That, if nothing else, has not wavered an instant this whole time. I have been held, but am returned, and whole still, and eagerly await your return home.

    I miss you terribly, and will explain everything when I see you again, and pray that your family does not think he unfit for you now, as it has been an ordeal up to this point, and circumstances were beyond my control.

    Every rose I pass reminds me of you. I will be waiting for you, as I hear you have waited for me.

    Yours -always-,

    Cecil Northman
    Your Lion._


  • ~An excerpt~

    Cecil sits seemingly alone in the tower, near Ormpur, collecting his thoughts. The Undead, Worgs, Pack Leaders, and hordes of rabid and diseased animals were a challenge for him one after the other, but his desire to treasure hunt, test himself, and to reach -this- place helped him overcome, and now, he rests.

    The meeting of the Remnant and their allies went well, but the unexpected turn of events … well, he wasn't expecting to be interim Chancellor. It's just as well that someone who wasn't seeking the position has it, he figured, but still. There's enormous potential for failures of all sorts, from a height so lofty.

    The meeting, however, brought him forward in his thoughts when it happened, and he was forced to lay some words down, words that he could not go back on, or forget. That's half the reason to say such things, really. Thinking them is fine and good, but making sure others know that you expect them to hold you accountable? Better. If ... you're up to it. The memory of his speech comes forward, like a vision, for him to remember it.

    _Cecil stands from his place at the parchments, and listens to the various comments, then turns to Shallyah directly when she addresses him.

    I thank you, Shallyah. First, for your honesty, and the honor in your requests. Respect. He makes a fist to his chest, and bows to her. Second, because you've opened up a good time for me to say a couple of things that need to be said.

    Let any scribe, man, woman, warrior, or power unseen that can hear me, take note, and hear me well.

    Since I am indeed responsible for the leadership of the Remnant and this town, now, there are a few things that I wish to make crystal clear.

    Should Ostromog and his forces honor this agreement, which I find to be acceptable in it's current form, then so too, shall I. And with my honor, comes Norwick's. As long as I hold Norwick, breach of the treaty is grounds for making an enemy of Norwick, should the action be purposeful, for the undermining of our peace.

    I am a man bound by self.

    I will not fall, should I treat with 'evil.' I need not run sword first into certain death if it can be avoided, nor will I ask another to. I will, however, consider those whose oaths are more stringent than mine in all things, because I -do- fight on the side of good.

    Norwick has always -had- laws, but I've always found laws to be chafing. Words are easily bent, misinterpreted, and used for purposes that they were not intended. Norwick's laws will stand as they were, and I will have laws drafted regarding the treaty as well. Hear me well, on this.

    Just as before, I will use what power I possess to the best of my ability. I will not abuse it, Norwick's people, or strangers in the night, nor those I care less for than others.

    Until we can get Norwick steady once more, if I am needed to watch over this home of mine, I shall. The same as I always have. When the time comes, however, that Norwick can support itself once more, We WILL hold elections.

    Throughout this, I will need aid. I will need advisors, leaders, and those who are willing to stand beside me during this transition. My goals, for now, are this.

    Cecil takes a brief break, pulling out his journal, and looking like what seem to just just a couple of words. He's not a speech writer, it's clear, but he knows his goals at least, it seems.

    I wish to get Norwick back to independence. We will likely need some time of support, through food and building materials, until the mill is running and the farms are once more healthy and productive.

    I also wish to create pacts. In times of war in the tribes, there were pacts between friendly groups, which included coming to the aid of their allies immediately in case of attack. This proposed one interesting problem. Bear with me a moment.

    Should my Lion tribe be allied with the Raven, we would protect them. The alliance is public, and well known. Most effective ones are. Should the Boar tribe attack the Raven, they will know that they also attack the Lion tribe. Now, what if the Lion is on friendly terms with the Boar already? The Lion will attack anyway, because they agreed on their pact with the Raven. The boar creates a full blown enemy, where an ally once was, and his loss is two-fold.

    The response time from Peltarch and other nations is a problem. There are agreements to be made, numbers to consider, current issues to weigh, all of it. I will entreat them to make a pact with me. Should an issue arise such as this again, to have a group set aside that can respond with haste. Our evacuation was my main concern.

    When I was a guard, and things looked bad, I sent guards back to town to tell people to get ready in case of evacuation. We ended up winning the day each time before, however, a system like this could prevent such a greater loss of life in the future. With the aid of allies, we could get the town evacuated in half the time, or less, than we could alone.

    Those goals, are some of what I hope to accomplish while I am entrusted with the burden of leadership. And yes, I intend to do it from the front.

    With a deliberate nod to Shallyah at his last sentence, he closes his book, has a long drink of water, and watches the rest of those gathered._

    Yes, he will remember. Yes, he will follow through. And yes, this too, shall be a trial that he overcomes. He shakes himself awake, and speaks out loud to the empty room.

    "What if … what if I do well, and help? Maybe all that hero talk wouldn't be so bad after all.

    He falls asleep after a time, with dreams of well-earned glory in his mind, tempered with even grander dreams of fulfilling his duty. Maybe Ardent was right. Maybe he's a little paladin-y after all… in a way.


  • (DM Syied approved)

    I was sitting down to write my reports, catch up if you will, and read over the law books again, especially concerning ranks. It seems I've finally gotten my promotion!

    @5de15d8a36:

    • Guardsman Cecil Northman

    Due to the fierce fervor and devoted loyalty you have shown over the many year in service to the realm. I hereby promote you, Cecil Northman to esteem rank of Senior Guardsman. You will fulfill your duties and serve your realm with the utmost vigilance and honorable respect. Until you withdraw by choice or fall in glorious combat. In the name of all that stands for Norwick and the well being and prosperity of her people. Effective immediately.

    Norwick Prevails.

    • Lieutenant Rain & Captain Locrian Danister

    _I am writing this report, journal, or whatever … from Peltarch. Norwick is, at the moment, no more.

    I guess I should start at the beginning. It goes like this.

    My reports and promotion sheet were put aside for talking to one of the guards, who burst into the room, looking terrified, and nearly screamed at me.

    "SHIT WE GOT GNOLLS FROM THE NORTH AND BUGBEARS FROM THE SOUTH."

    That was enough to send me to my feet, but the color on his face made me pause, and I nodded, sending him running out. He knew his job ... but I worried if I would be able to do mine. My duty is to Norwick, and promotion or not, I am responsible for her people. Hells, especially now with the promotion.

    Trusting to the soldiers to do what they do without question, Ilooked for Belinda in her office, as she was often the only other person in the halls, and nabbed Bub from his perch to his usual one atop my shoulder, and ran out, looking for Belinda on the way. Things needed to be done.

    Belinda was there when I arrived at the boats, and I sent the one guard I was able to find, to the North, while Belinda and I made our way around the lands to the east, to gather up every civilian we could find. She was among the first to arrive, having already been gathered up.

    We ended up with a LOT, and the ferryman, good man that he is, let them on the boat with my word that it was necessary. I don't know how much of the village I packed onto that boat, but it floundered a little before we got some speed, and scared the hell out of us.

    Speaking of US ... I was never supposed to get on that boat. Damnit.

    Belinda started it. I loaded everything up, her included, and turned to go lend my blade to the effort. The evacuation was well under way, but there were others to get out of there! My turn gave her my cloak, then there were two, then four, then more hands on it. Belinda was clever enough to say they boat itself needed protection, but I think what it really needed was not to have MY heavy ass on it.

    Short story shorter, the boatman launched while I was on the boat and arguing, and forbade me come back. He said he'd make trips while he could, for us, but that I shouldn't expect too much.

    He came back a few times that I know of, but I have not attempted to board the ship again. Instead, I'm going to inquire about refugees in and near Peltarch, since it's apparently a fine time to be close to our neighbors.

    I've heard that I was right, that Norwick fell, and is now in Bugbear hands ... which I intend to see righted, and quickly. I cannot, however, do it alone. First things first.

    I must find Ashena. She MUST be ok.

    I must find Val and Shallyah, they'll know what to do.

    I must find shelter for my townsfolk.

    I must seek the Lion.

    But first ... sleep._

    (DM Syied approved)


  • A quick note is jotted down, as a reminder to himself

    Find out what Ardent is talking about regarding promotions. Nobody has said word one to ME about this stuff…


  • _A great many things have occurred in the past couple of days, or maybe it just seems that way. Regardless, it's been an interesting time. The wedding is coming soon, the Solstice bearing down on me more quickly than I dared to hope, and I find myself nervous, but in a good way. Like the feeling before a battle, but one you're already set to win, if you can only have the courage to -go-.

    The prize is great, Ashena is my ideal, and Celia has the ceremony all planned out, so I don't think that even -I- could goof this up. Val even got us rings, and Ardent, in her usual Ardent fashion, has already attacked us with gifts! This new bow is really impressive, and I think Ashena will enjoy her gift as well!

    Speaking of Ardent, I always forget that she's a half-elf, in the sense of, remembering that she's a part of the elven community. I hear about them once in a while in reports, or see them out and about in bands of just elves (For the most part), but never really gave it much thought. Seems normal.

    Today, I joined them on a hunting trip, the sole human among the elf-blooded, and I'll be honest with myself here, I felt quite out of place.

    For about ten minutes.

    These were all people I knew at least a little, and they welcomed me well, and did not speak Elven, possibly so as not to make me feel excluded. We ended up having a pretty good time! Into the underdark we went, a path having been opened to the ettins, which we went to go say hello to!

    Ama and I were up front, wielding Greatswords, and a comment was brought up about … how large my sword is. Ardent of course, perpetrated that, and had me blushing in no time, but I think Jin was very much her partner in crime there. Regardless, Ama'Bael commented that we would see how well I could use it, so in we went.

    It's been quite a while since I've seen the ettins. Long enough, that the last time I was there, just one or two was quite a fight for me.

    This time, we cut through them like a flaming sword through goblin.

    I got a grin and a compliment from Ama, and we resumed our grisly work, each of us able to knock down these psuedo-giants, one way or another, and pouncing on the fallen things, blade first, when the opportunity arose.

    It was a glorious slaughter when we came across several at once, and even their Shamans were no match at all.

    Quiet halls dominated the next hour or so after some mining was done. That surprised me, since, while I know the value of mining, I cannot help but refer to it as the "Dinner bell of the Underdark." I'm always shocked when the sound of picks ringing on stone doesn't bring every hungry critter for leagues, right away. Then again, I suppose the twisting of the tunnels helps account for that.

    Then we saw him. A MASSIVE ettin, who looked better armed, and kind of ... well, a lot different from the others. He took up a decent chunk of the hall, saw us, and grinned twice, once from each horrible head, and I didn't even have time to remark how strange it was to see one of those agreeing with ... well, itself, before it was upon us.

    I can safely say, this may have been the most intense fight of my life!

    Blades came rushing in, giving me just barely enough time to get my sword up, and had I not, I realized that not even my steel armor would have saved me from that horrible first strike. This bastard was as strong as six ettins!

    Therean and Caelisar were mostly beside me, a bit to the side, and suddenly several of us were getting smacked, and it was brutal. Blood flew, and most of it was from us, the damned thing being too fast to hit easily, and shrugging off even the mightiest of blows. I know. I served him half a dozen immediately.

    There was nothing for it, so I shouted a challenge up at him, and it actually looked surprised for a moment, before laying into me like I was the only thing to exist.

    Thank the Lion for my strength, thank Ashena for my increasing faith in myself, thank Moon for the armor, and Ardent for the blade ... had I not been prepared as I was, I would have fallen, and more than once.

    Thank Caelisar and Therean, who took turns chanting as rapidly as they could, to continuously heal me, and keep me on my feet. Even as I felt faint, nearly at death's door, no sooner would I take another swing instead of retreat, than the healing word of the Elven Gods suffused me, further frustrating my foe, and causing it to hit harder, faster, but still staying relentlessly on me alone.

    That's what I wanted.

    The others were capable, skilled ,and strong, but this was my place. This was my purpose, and if I need fall to gain them an extra moments respite, or escape, I would do it. These were my companions, and I was meant to face this threat, so I did. Gods was I afraid, I had a wedding to get to, and dammit I was going to make it alive.

    My prayer to the Lion must have been heard, through bloody, gritted teeth. My next strike, and the one after, and one shortly after that, all bit deeply into the creature, and indecision finally struck it's horrid features. Was this puny human going to win? Surely not!

    Both arms lifted, a great foot shifted for maximum striking power downward, and the Golden Sword of Valkur, that giant shining greatsword, found it's mark, a wet hiss escaping a punctured lung, and a shudder pulsing through the blade from a heart that just figured out it was time to quit, being skewered so, before the creature fell down nearly on top of me, unmoving.

    Jokes were traded about whether I knew how to use a shield, among exclamation of disbelief, and praise for valor and strength, but all of us were stunned. This creature stood firm against a RAIN of blows from several of us, sneaky attacks from Ardent and Jin, slices from the new fellow they kept calling henchman, and arrows and sling bullets alike, that his companions had fallen to in mere MOMENTS.

    Either he was a champion among ettins, or he was spelled to the teeth.

    Meeting Casca in the tunnels later informed us that at least the latter was true. A complaint that we had killed all her loyal customers was met with a few disbelieving stares, but it did make sense when she mentioned that one of them was a GREAT customer, and had bought enough to be nearly invincible.

    Oh. Thanks. It ALL makes sense now, you half-pint whack-nut.

    She talked our ears off about the auction for a bit, then headed to the surface with us. One thing caught my ear specifically though, when she was singing the praises of her wares. An egg shaped device, like the ones she sold the Legion during the war.

    I asked for clarification, since I was not there for that, and had only heard tales from others, and determined that yes, she had sold it to them, and yes, she had at least another like it. I was assured, of course, upon asking, that they didn't -all- do that... you know, open gates to the hells on Toril, but I asked her anyway, politely, if she could PLEASE not sell any more of those ... especially since she valued living customers.

    Thankfully, she at least -said- she wouldn't, but I don't know how strong her word binds her. I hope she keeps it.

    At any rate, Bub has climbed me since the talk of ettins, and is emulating being a second head atop my shoulder, so I imagine it's time to feed him again. Boy does he get creative when he's hungry..._


  • _It's been some time since I wrote, last.

    I took a week long walk to clear my head, and returned to find the usual. People arguing, living, loving, fighting, banding together, targeting one another, everything.

    If I've realized anything in my time here, it's that life goes on. The little things matter, but everyone has something different that they want, seek, fear, or aim for.

    The Militia is in a bit of a tangle at the moment. I don't know when the last time Locrian was seen, I haven't seen Albryanna in some time either, and I haven't even seen Dwin in months myself, nor heard his name, until the discussion of Militia pay came up.

    Pay has always been a bit of a toss up, since many of us only work as guards part time, while others from the town, or from outside, help bolster our defenses. Granted, it's not like being a farmer, or a mill worker, or a maid. It's not like being a cook, or a cleaner, or a smith.

    Still, people want pay.

    I get that. What I cannot get, however, is why nobody is willing to address the subject on their own. There was hemming and hawing, discussion and grumbling, even some threats to leave, but nobody really stepped forward and set suggestions for an actual fix. They made suggestions at first, sure, but nothing cohesive. No votes, nothing we could move forward with.

    I probably overstepped by bounds, but I gathered as many guards and associated folk as I could, and called for a tally. Then I left, and went to the homes of those who were not present, and got them too, then made sure word was spread, so I could gather the desires of the Militia at large, over the course of the week.

    Rain gave me a nod, and said she would leave it to me after that, so I either overstepped my bounds as a plain old guard, or she approves. Sometimes it's hard to tell with that one…

    Locrian of course hasn't spoken up or showed up, so I have no clue what he thinks about all of it. I'm not too concerned, to be honest, but I do wish I had a better idea of what I'm doing.

    I put forth the suggestions, I wrote them for the Chancellor, and now ... I wait. Let's see if I made a mistake in getting involved in this. I wonder what Ashena would think?_


  • Sweat dots the page as Cecil leans over his journal by candlelight in the barracks. Bub the black cat, concerned, has nestled himself into Cecil's lap, and received an affectionate pat with a shaking hand. The hand is large, and crisscrossed with many scars from countless fights and the occasional accident, but the shake is unusual.

    The sweat dotting the page is unusual for the chill night that the autumn air brings, even deep into the barracks, but nightmares have a way of doing that. This night, even the Lion Knight, as some like to call him, woke in a cold sweat from fighting an imaginary foe. Or was it?

    Putting quill to page, the barbarian exhales slowly, calming himself as best he can, but calm will not come. Perhaps -after- the words have exorcised the shadows from his mind, will the shake subside…

    _Sleep is very nearly a thing to fear now, it seems. I see it over and over again. The dwarven guard coughs, and in my dreams, I know what's coming, but I am stuck, watching myself go to pat him on the back, thinking it's nothing serious.

    He faints, and I overstep my bounds once more, as usual of late, and order him to the healer.

    I turn my back for a moment, and the sound RIPS through my head. The sound of a sodden cloak being ripped in half by a giant like paper… and then the chittering.

    Long multiple jointed legs scurry, and I am surrounded. I am buried. There are so many! It's a good thing I don't fear spiders... they fall quickly to axe, sword, and boot.

    I fear no spiders.

    The red mess before me though, the one that was a comrade, and is now a shapeless, lifeless, nameless mess of bone fragments, viscera, blood, and gore ... it's no different than the results of countless fights I have won, and probably some I have lost, right?

    I've seen enemies torn -completely- asunder from the Gods-enhanced strength of my strike with my greatsword, fueled by rage, and honed by training and determination ... but this, this is different.

    My companion, fellow guard, friend, and ally... was a nest. Nothing more than a nest, for what? An instantly incubating egg of some horrific infectious monster? It happened so fast. Perhaps if there was time to see the problem, address it, hope for a cure or help ... then maybe, just maybe I would not feel like I had ice within my chest upon waking, and feel it's melt all across my skin like a sickness.

    Today, I battled monsters. They were not the foes I struck with my blade, either.

    I battled those that would fight by cunning and stealth from afar, whoever created this ... abomination! I fought their cursed creations. Was this the work of a mad wizard, or a maniac in the name of the thing they call "Science?"

    There's the issue. Therein lies my fear.

    I don't know.

    Can this be put in the water supply?

    What if I wake, and the entire down is dotted with red puddles, and the very ground -crawls- and -chitters- and -devours-?

    I will fight, I will let loose a shout that will shatter bones, drive away enemies, and strike fear into the hearts of all who stand before me, and I will perish like a mortal, with a blade in my hand ... NOT as a breeding ground for nightmares.

    Gods I hope this is true.

    I should be writing about my wedding, but tonight, I am married to nightmares, and only they will sleep beside me this night, I can feel it. I've never before feared sleep. I've never before feared fear.

    Come dreams ... bring what you will. The Lion's heart is mine, and I will face what you have to bring. Fear alone will not stop me. Black Lion, preserve my mind, strengthen my heart, and steel my shaking hand.

    Please._


  • Tonight, Cecil stands vigil at the gate alone. His journal is safely tucked away, and his sword is over his shoulder once more, his Lion-Blessed axe in his hands. The south gate is empty, save for him, and a badger playing in the grass nearby, unbothered by the huge man in the golden armor nearby.

    He kneels, and before him is a strange pile of seemingly unrelated items.

    A hunk of raw meat.
    A couple goblin charms.
    An apple.
    A half-poured out bottle of expensive winter wine.

    His prayer is in Illuskan, quiet and unassuming, and sounds like more of a ritual than a prayer.

    [Illuskan] _Black Lion, he who is ever in my shadow. I saw your sign, and followed your omen. I was able to act on it, and you were in my shadow as always. For this, I thank you. I share this meal with you, that I live to get to eat.

    Your claws lent bite to my blade.
    Your eyes saw the foes that mine did not.
    You showed me the way to lead my allies, though we risked life willingly, and lost some, we were still victorious.

    I share this meal with you.

    The meat of a worthy foe, like a Black Lion of the deep, cruel and strong.
    An apple of this land, that I am happy to protect.
    The good luck charms of bested foes, may they serve me better than they.
    Wine from the homelands, from the iced grapes.

    Sup with me, brother, friend, ally, and teacher.
    Accept my sacrifice, God and mentor.

    I thank you. I am yours._


  • _The report has been written. Loc's gold is finally in his locker. I'm alive, but not well.

    The attack last night … was a disaster.

    People trusted me, but I couldn't get things well enough in order to keep people alive. And that damnable Dwarf whose name I didn't even get, but kept getting in my ... well, he would have been in my face were there not a three or more foot height difference, fell too. Despite him being a jackass, I didn't want him -dead-. Guess his doomsaying about the gate being a deathtrap was what I've heard called a "Self fulfilling prophecy."

    It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It seems guilt has a taste.

    What bothers me the most, is Ardent. She fell TWICE. The first time, a group of archers and probably a caster, targeted her in unison on her ledge. I was nowhere close, as I was trying to -be- a gate, right in the thick of things. I'm no Shallyah, I'm no Rath. I cannot stand alone against the Hordes of Bugbears and survive easily, or call upon Divine help reliably. I couldn't let them pass, though. This is my duty.

    Others fell, including brave Ky, whose body we had to go get on a mad dash out of the gate. I've seen enemies take the bodies of our fallen before, and I wasn't about to let that happen again.

    We lost the south gate, nearly lost the inner gates when a MASSIVE Bugbear ran right through us, knocking everyone aside, and their casters ran wildly through us like we weren't there, without a care for their own lives once their spells wore off.

    Enemies would make more sense if they too, feared death. As it is, I cannot understand what motivates our enemies to attack us as they do. Are they that loyal, or is the penalty for coming back as the losing side, death, anyway?

    We ended up having to make a counterattack. Re-take our gates. Ardent, Moonie, our new scout whose name I always goof up, and others went the long way around to execute a Hammer and Anvil maneuver at my suggestion.

    Problem is, I missed the cue over the din. Moon had spoken into my head as she left, and I assume that was the signal. I have NO idea how that stuff works, so I'm pretty fairly sure it's my fault Ardent fell again when we didn't come charging out at their beginning the fight.

    Victoria's word stunned them with Lurue's power, not once, but twice, thankfully, and we got there just in time to put many down before they came to their senses. It was too late for my friend, however, and I'm stuck thinking about what I could have done better. Too early, and we would have been massacred, too late, and she was.

    The only answer is to continue to improve. Get better. Work with the militia, train with Victoria and Shallyah, and help Sir Roderick in his endeavors, as well as continue to clear the terrors out from under Peltarch when I can.

    I always tell people I'm no hero, and that nobody needs one. What if I was one, and was able to defy death, and lead the charge the first time I thought I heard something?

    Maybe I should try to become one.

    Great Lion, what do I do?_


  • _Two hundred.

    This is not so big a number to me any longer. There was a time when I first came here, that having 200 gold in my hands tempted me to hit the road again, and live like a king for a while.

    Seeing that a bathhouse pass to join Ashena in being clean and relaxing cost that much nearly made me faint.

    There was a time when 200 small goblins would have made me flee.

    There was a time when the idea of having 200 of my enemies driven underfoot til they were so much red paste and the occasional squeak would have seemed impossible.

    Since those days, 200 is not so unimaginable.

    So why the HELL is it suddenly so hard to find moonstones!?!?

    Moon says that if I gather 200 of them, she has a grand surprise for me. I took to my task with fervor, and got …. 2. TWO.

    I let one goblin survive the whole day that I spent killing them, searching them thoroughly. I would not be surprised to see crude drawings of me show up with x's for eyes, and daggers in my coal-drawing body.

    I wonder if I can get somebody to write up a goblin ransom note saying that I'll ease up on the genocide for 200 moonstones? Heh ... yeah right. Back to the grind. Heeeere goblin goblin goblin ..._


  • _Well, this is an interesting thought.

    I just got finished talking with Mystic, and I realized something. I just might be crazy.

    In the past week, I've been part of groups that did the following.

    -Cleared the Sewers and Barrows rather thoroughly
    -Repulsed an attack on Peltarch's western tower
    -Defeated an orc leader and got his weapon as a trophy, once cleansed
    -Repulsed two massive gate attacks, each lasting the better part of a day or night, and coming in multiple waves
    -Acquired 4 displacer beast hides, and fought hooked horrors, skin dancers, and magic eaters, as well as said displacer beasts
    -Attended a wedding!
    -Cleared the lake, and eastern woods, as well as the graveyard with just me and Ardent, again, including disrupting what seemed to be an ambush

    The list goes on… but still. All that this week, and I'm worried about parents?

    Yeah. I might have taken one too many hits to the head.

    I'm ready. Be it tomorrow or next year, dammit I'm ready._


  • _I can't decide if I feel frustrated, silly, or justified in my ang- well, annoyance? What's the word for this, anyway?

    I wandered into the sewers solo when I hit Peltarch today, since there was nothing going on elsewhere in the city that I could involve myself in, and I wasn't in much of a drinking mood. I'm trying not to touch my gold pouch til I give Loc back what's his. I'm sure I'll see him eventually.

    The first thing I came across, oddly enough, was a Cult Priest. Red light surrounded me, and blood was rushing from my nose and ears, old cuts re-opened, and everything just -hurt- for what seemed like forever, but I'm sure was only a second.

    Talk about seeing red.

    Little bastard was hiding behind a gate, which didn't respond to my pulling or pushing on it, so for once, I decided not to break something down, and I waited for him to use a key on it around a corner, barely dodging around the corner in time to break his line of sight for the spell, his words clipping off with a frustrated curse word, as opposed to a proper curse.

    I heard him beating on the gate, once, twice … after about the 10th ineffectual strike, I went in for the kill. I wasn't about to leave him there til some stronger pal of his broke it down, and they cast that crap on the guards above, or some less hardy adventurer. The pillars holding the gate left plenty of cover for him to keep him safe from arrows, or axes, too.

    That left the gate.

    I charged in, struck it down in two strikes, and managed to cleave him completely in half in two strikes. That golden sword sure can cut! I'll have to be sure to bring Ardent something nice again.

    I cleared the rest of the area, and came around the back entrance to the room with the gate I broke, and Rath, Celia, and others were there before me. There was scarcely a "Hi Cecil" before I was being questioned about ... the gate.

    The gate which costs 286 gold to replace when you go to the city hall with the woman you love because she "Talked to you already about breaking city property," even when she's proud of you for doing the right thing. That being paying for the damage, of course.

    I can't help but think it slightly silly. Sure, there's some degree of sense to it, and I was told that they don't have a key to it, so it keeps above-ground safe from them, but I'm pretty sure I got around it by means of a few passages around the side ... but I'm not that great with below-ground directions.

    Maybe I'll check into it next time I'm there. Still ... while I can see both sides of this picture, I'm still a bit annoyed. At the city, or the cultist, I think. I know Ashena was just doing what she's used to, and must as a knight of the order and a paladin and a city whatever she is to them ... so I'm not annoyed at her. Still ... I cannot imagine thinking about 'rules' all the time.

    Action is what counts.

    Right?_


  • _Back from my walk, and little has changed. There are things I should have done before, like let Ashena know I was going, like let Norwick know I was taking a break, but there wasn't hardly anybody here in the ranks, and Ashena was busy. Still, I should have written a letter at least. I -did- learn to write for a reason, after all.

    Upon my return, I made sure that Bub's stuff was in order, he's still healthy and happy as I knew he would be, and then went to the gates. Patrol would be in a couple hours, when dawn broke, so I figured I could start right back up where I left off.

    I was not expecting Maria.

    As she was headed home at about the same time I was headed out, she laid some protections on me, and when I say some, I mean -all of them.- Victoria joined me, and we walked south, then east, to find the Hobgoblins.

    We didn't see any serious resistance, or anything suspicious, til we neared the Northernmost cave. It was then that we encountered quite a large group of Raiders, backed by mages, who all seemed hell bent on keeping us from the cave.

    We made quick work of them indeed, and headed in, to more of the usual. The War Drummer has a sizeable force with him, but with Maria and Victoria's spells upon me, I was able to use my greatsword, the big golden one, and he fell in only a couple strikes.

    I found out that they have a throne in there too. A big great ugly stone thing. With the blessings on me, and that great big sword, I said to myself that only the Lion is king, and split it in half with a single strike, to watch the two halves fall and crumble to the sides.

    We headed home and chit chatted about things all the while, and were even joined by Nyda. Seems like a nice gal, she even re-mastered some old skills she had while she was out with us.

    Then, to Peltarch.

    Ashena, she was standing at the Commons when I arrived, as radiant and beautiful as ever, speaking with Celia, who was looking splendid in her Order armor as well. Rath arrived next with his … pet ... jelly. I =still= don't know that to think about that.

    Ashena and I caught up for a little while before I left to write my report and get some more rest. It's amazing how tired you can get when fighting with so many spells, then having them drop off. You get used to it sometimes, I guess.

    At any rate, I'm going to go rejoin Ashena outside, and see about those plans. If Aymon doesn't hurry, he won't have to worry about it at all._


  • _Today started like any other day.

    I fed the cat, Bub. I cleaned his area. I cleaned and polished my armor to it's mirror shine, and cleaned out my pack. I headed into town, then, satisfied that I could find something to do, and ran right into Locrian.

    Locrian, Captain Vanishing himself was sitting about talking with Drelan, that sailor fella. I was referred to as youngblood more than a couple of times, which doesn't bother me, and then talk of promotion was brought up.

    I did my best not to appear childish or -too- excited, but truth be told, that's exactly what I wanted to hear!

    Then I met Beourn's father. He didn't know about his son's fall, so I took it upon myself to be the bearer of bad news, to which he left immediately, presumably to go kill something.

    Loc got a little pissed, since apparently he was a candidate for the Militia, and I "May have just lost his newest recruit." He thrust a heavy package of metal stuff at me, and said to go catch him, and give him those things, so I headed south, juggling my things until they didn't feel quite as heavy, and went to find him, only to be brushed off, and left standing there looking silly.

    He should be fine, and I'll keep this stuff in my locker til I come across him next.

    It was shortly after that, when Locrian found me, and said that we should do some crypt-stomping, just the two of us.

    I agreed, and off we went.

    We make a pretty good team, Locrian and I. I took out those pesky ghost things while he held back a guard and a few stinking strong zombies, which I helped him take out as soon as my smaller foes were dead. We grinned, we roared, we laughed, we bled. Locrian is pretty single-minded in battle, focused, and not a terrible lot like the Locrian I see everywhere else, except between battles.

    Before too long, Mei found us, one of our greencloaks, and she joined us. She had made mention of possibly leaving for a while, taking time to think, and Loc grunted, before we moved on to bigger foes.

    Loc and I, with Mei to the side of us, took on Hildegarde and all it's friends, got spelled, stabbed, slapped, and slimed, but ripped apart our foes one by one, and made it downstairs with only slight injuries still. I was feeling great, since I had done quite well up to this point. There's nothing like knowing you're improving!

    Next, giants. He had intended to pick up the new Dwarven fellow some armor from the Dark Priests. What we found instead, was giants with the priests, as usual. I think it was the usual number anyway…

    The priests got a spell off on me and Loc each I think, but we stood there calmly til it was taken care of ... or rather, I stood there during mine counting the blows raining down on me, and watching things with dimming vision. I just needed that one second. JUST long enough to get that potion... and I did. A Heal potion cured me up, and I resumed the fight, taking some of the pressure off of the two of them.

    It didn't help Mei. Not long after I regained use of my limbs, she took a hard hit that looked like it was to the back of her neck, and sounded like it was a hit to a cracked longbow, and she dropped at once. My balm did nothing, so I resumed the fight, two giants and a Dark Priest still menacing us, and Locrian looking far worse for wear by the minute.

    I managed to take out the priest with Loc by my side while the Giant swung wildly at me, and I got to return my attention to him only after the priest stared at me from his split head, eyes locking with mine from other sides of the blade in accusatory hate, distracting me from the giant long enough to take another hit.

    Loc slid by, clearly moving off to take a potion or two, and then things got ugly. He got hit, and nearly knocked down. The giant pursued him, despite me hacking at it's legs, and Loc ... well, he stopped. He tripped, or faltered, I didn't see what happened. He probably tripped on the body of one of the things we killed, but with a defiant roar, he went down under one of those crushing blows, leaving me alone with two dead companions, and an angry, successful giant that had just slain my Captain and my recruit.

    And he was blocking the way, successfully.

    Luckily, I'm a big guy, I hit him, swore at him, and shoved past, taking a hit to my shoulder that nearly made me drop my axe, but I got by. I got enough distance to take two potions, Greater Bull's Strength, and Greater Endurance, which I had been saving for a special occasion. Saving Loc's and Mei's bodies from those necromancer freaks definitely qualifies, I think.

    I strode back, praying to the Lion as I went, and scraped my axe on the wall as I turned the corner to get the giant's attention, who was examining Locrian as if expecting a trick. He looked up with his beady little eyes full of interest and malice, and came bellowing at me. I roared back, sunk my axe in him, and proceeded to trade blows back and forth with this towering creature.

    FARK that hurts.

    The bastard made a mistake of turning his back on me, so I buried my axe in it, and removed his head for him as a courtesy, before picking up Loc and Mei, leaving their belongings behind when I heard another giant come forward, probably to the death cry of his kin.

    Thank the Lion and the Moon for Moon. She showed up, likely thinking to train on all the scary critters down there too, and helped me dispatch that last giant and recover their things, before getting me safely back to the surface.

    This is NOT how I wanted to get that promotion!

    Now I sit here with an ale that's lost it's flavor, a recruit that has fought her last fight heavily on my mind, and a Captain that is taking his time coming back.

    The healers say he hasn't refused, but is waiting. I suppose a vacation is deserved, but I can't help but fear that every day he is gone is a day closer to just losing him. I don't know how long you can stay in the fugue, to be honest, but I'm sure he'll come back.

    He has to.

    Right?_


  • _Here I sit in the Grapevine, enjoying the refreshing coolness of a chilled ale, but I can hardly taste it.

    Grim thoughts are on my mind, so I had might as well pick up where I left off, before I catch up to present.

    I was in the barrows with Ashena, and I think Victoria and another couple folks … heh, this is harder to remember than I thought. I do remember the other part though. The creatures were all around. Profaned Wights? Ravagers? I was holding them off, Victoria's spells aiding me, Ashena striking at them, when more came.

    Scores of their kin had fallen to us, my Black Lion biting hard into their hide, but this time we lost our momentum. I had been successful in holding to an old adage I learned on the road. "Sometimes the quickest way to kill an opponent is to cut through the man next to him." I had managed it against several, and some were even wary to get within range of my axe until now, before one of them finally locked eyes with me as he grasped by axe-arm.

    The world spun, before righting itself. I was still on my feet! It earned an axe-chop to the face ... but it was clumsy, and I swear it grinned. Something was wrong, and I knew it. I risked a glance back, and Ashena was getting healed. Victoria was striking at a foe just after, and thankfully the attention of this one and his allies was on me. I could give them a moment... there, my chance!

    I fell back slowly, keeping my shield up, and staggered. Somebody reached out to steady me ... and the world spun again. It wasn't one of mine, and the touch took more from me again. I couldn't think straight, I remember wondering briefly why I was moving ... and another hand gave me a little push. Again, that feeling of vertigo, then the cold stone on my cheek. Wait, stone?

    It didn't hurt. Not in the traditional sense. My body was mostly unharmed in fact. Something inside though... there's a feeling when you are killed. I used to be unfamiliar with it, but I fell twice in the recent months, and there's a hole inside now that I've only just begin to refill.

    That hole stretched wide, like the well of souls in Oscura. I felt that scream inside, then a tremendous rush of not-wind, it -felt- black, I saw red, then I was blinking against the muted not-light where Cassius and the Skeleton were beating on each other for some imagined offense or another.

    I was there for a time, I don't know how long, drawing Lions in the sand and praying for guidance. Why did he not come? Is three times too many? If it was my time, I would go, but I would ask one boon. I would see my Ashena once more before I go to the Hunting Plains of my fathers, or wherever else the Lion sends me.

    Her face was there, then. Her arms around me. I had gotten my wish, my goodbye.

    Her armor was surprisingly cold on my ghostly face, and I opened my mouth to speak, to find it dry, and full of the taste of the barrows floor. "Being a ghost sucks.", I thought. It took me moments to figure out that I was being told to pick up my pack, and hurry. The creature that ripped out my soul and claimed it for it's own had been felled, and my soul returned to me, instead of leaving back to the Lion, or elsewhere. Thank the Gods!

    I truly do have the bravest companions on Toril's cracked shell. They risked the fate they saw me fall to, to ensure I could be saved, brought home, and brought back.

    Facing down the giant the slew Captain Loc was the least I could do._

    The book is closed while Cecil finishes the ale, a grim expression on and off his face again while he thinks. Locrian had still not returned to life, but the Healers assured him that he had not refused, he was just … being Locrian. Cecil supposed that even Locrian deserved a break once in a while, and shrugged, getting up to order a meal. His journal was left open on the table while he spoke to Kresha a moment about Loc, and brought back his food, staring at the page for a bit before deciding what to write. Yes, it would probably be a good idea to re-live the battle, especially given what he learned from it.

    It could wait for a meal though. If Loc could wait, so could he. For now.


  • _It has been a busy couple of days, and I finally finished a nice long patrol after coming home from the sewers of Peltarch. Thanks the Gods for some rain on the way back, Tempest almost wouldn't let me ride!

    I suppose I should try to keep this in order of events, so first, Sir Roderick.

    Sir Roderick, or Sir Sandwich as I like to think of him, had requested aid some time ago, some time after his rescue from the hands of Bugbears. I had a part in that, and we have gotten along well, since. Hells, he even wears my half-plate that I sold him still.

    He had several artifacts of a sort with him when he was ambushed, and he needed some more items to fix them, and make parts for what they all combined to create, or were pieces to.

    Copper to begin with, which he finally got enough of.

    This couple of nights ago, was the time to meet to recover three items from the camp near where he was taken, which just so happened to be in a wood that messed with your mind, somehow.

    Luckily, (I can't believe I'm saying this) Bugbears and Orcs were frequenting the area, and apparently warring in it. The good part of this, was that they knew of the mind issues, and had stocked supplies of Mind Blank potions, which we came across after a few close calls.

    We wandered for quite a ways, with only the frequency of these caches to guide us, and dire animal to bite us, before we found foes. Bugbears, and plenty of them in some places.

    Albryanna had gone to get a few potions from a nearby cache, as she had run low, and Moon wasn't in sight, so when the Bugbear Battleragers appeared, I couldn't run. They would have gotten everyone else.

    I thought I was going to make it at first, able to dodge their attacks and shrug off a couple, when I dodged INTO a downward swing.

    I woke not long later, feeling terrible, another sucking hole where there is no actual wound, but feels empty. That's twice, now. Twice I've fallen, failed, and been left there by the Lion, to learn from my own mistakes I guess. The time before was on the treasure hunt.

    It's hard to tell myself that it'll get better, and soon.

    Regardless, I kind of have to try, right?

    We picked me up, and resumed. The fights got worse, archers harried us while waves of smaller bugbears charged, interspersed with the occasional sneak or caster. Tensions were high from the constant need to take a mind potion, and the risk of an allied arrow in the back, or sword in the gut, should somebody run out of potions or not use them when they needed to.

    We had just fought through another big group when we found him. A long Bugbear, obviously a leader of some sort.

    Since I was named leader for some reason, I told the others to lower their weapons when he laid down his. I got the information we needed after I introduced myself, that the Orcs had ambushed them, and retreated to the one place the Bugbears hadn't run them out of yet. The caves.

    I let him go. Bitsy frothed at the mouth. I had him show me the nearest potion cache, and it … was... enourmous. He got away free, and said that he would remember the deed, and we continued on. I knew I had done the right thing. Not the good or bad thing, the right thing. The thing most likely to get everyone else back safely.

    Bitsy may well hurt me for it later, but she stopped when I gave an order, and didn't even proceed to complain about it after that. Not too much, anyway. Well... not unbearably much.

    We then began to cut through orcs, finding pieces of the equipment Roderick needed as we went. I put them all in a box with my spare cloak, wrapped up safely as we found them, and orc-blood ran all over the cave as we powered through it. We did well, with only a couple close calls. I suppose the Bugbears made the orcs look like goblins.

    We pulled it off, short on patience, harried and hounded, bleeding and bruised, only to find the Bugbear again.

    Waiting.

    Bitsy had mentioned that she expected him to come back with reinforcements.

    She was right.

    Hah, if you're reading this I know what you're thinking.

    They escorted us safely back without incident. Didn't expect that, did you?
    Perhaps you did, if you've read the rest of this thing, now that I think of it...

    Roderick divided his old possessions, and those of his companions among us, and I got a chain for a belt, with a magic lock on it that protects the wearer!

    Anyway, we all made it back, though me and another lost a bit of ourselves along the way, and Roderick and I had a long talk afterwards.

    Looks like there will be more to do. Next time I sit down to write, I'll have to write down what it felt like to have my soul pulled out a piece at a time. For now, I'm tired, and the memory would be too much to stay awake through, I think.

    I can still smell Ashena's hair. I will sleep well, I think._


  • _It's no longer funny how the smallest things can make my whole day. I laugh anyway, but it's the happy sort of laugh, like finding a bottle of ale in your boot instead of a snake. Startling, unexpected, but perfect.

    Compliments on my armor at the fire, and immediate mention that Ashena speaks to others of me often, and fondly, are enough to make me smile til the next sunset or two alone. I'm surely soon to be known as the Grinning Guardsman or something silly, I'm certain of it. It takes about a day for one of the usual suspects to latch onto something I do (Or Ashena does) and find a way to tease me about it.

    I think I've grown fond of it. Cecilcecilcecil indeed!

    There was talk of promotions thrown about recently, and even more startling, Aramuil waxing poetic (New phrase, I think I like it) about the perks of nobility, and the possibility of knightings. It's all a silly dream, especially from Aramuil in the land without a King that is Narfell, but it's a nice though.

    Sir Roderick, or Sir Sandwich as I oft am fond of calling him, has invited me to learn more of his 'knightly' order, known as the Stee. I only now just realized that I may very well be able to get a few things out of Val about it, too. If anybody around here knows, it would be her.

    He said they were a scholarly knighthood of sorts, knights in name only or something, but … well, the thought of more knowledge intrigues me. It always has, I suppose.

    I speak the trade tongue of Damaran, Common, and the language of my home. That's two languages more than many of my kin. I have learned some lore of the lands, how to identify certain kinds of items, and have even been to some of the places here that some people still think are the stuff of legends alone. Granted, I also died in one of them... but that's quite beside the point by now.

    Speaking of points, I cannot help myself when enjoying an ale or a meal and hearing a plate-clad person approach, from thinking that it might be Aymon. Thinking that it might just be time for that talk.

    I am no longer afraid in the least. My shyness got in the way before, but there's really not much reason to be shy anymore. We proudly enjoy each other's company in the open, and speak more candidly, though she still turns that cute rosey color in the cheeks when people look at the two of us and make comment.

    I don't think I'll ever tire of that!

    I look forward to the day I meet Aymon for that talk. I do not fear the possibility of being tested at arms, even weakened slightly from my fall as I am. I do not fear judgement at the hands of her Order, her Family, or her friends. I -am- all the things she thinks I am, and I will prove it.

    Granted... it sure would be nice if I could get hold of Locrian and tie him to a post by his leg until he promoted me or something. It couldn't hurt.

    Much._


  • _Things are both slow and hectic lately, and I know not what to make of it, so I went to ask the Lion. I didn't need an answer, but I had to ask, really.

    The answer awaited me at the gates.

    Val had gone on a trip, and I had just returned from a long walk, skirting the edges of Narfell for a couple days, before heading back, only to find Bill at the gates, with a guard having escorted him there to look for me. Perfect timing, I think.

    Bill was tasked to stay with me, and perhaps learn more about what I do, while Val was away, so I happily took him to the inn for a nice hot meal until the dawn came, before heading on patrol.

    A simple spear and a small shield did nicely for him, and kept him out of trouble on the walk through the ruins, which impressed him thoroughly when he took a jab at his first echo, a moment before it fell before him, the two of us having flanked it well.

    His limp and shaky grip on his armaments made it a slow walk, and for awkward fights, but we took it slow while I explained all that I know of the area, just like when I come across travelers who are new to the lands. He is quick to learn, and eager for a story, and seems in higher spirits than before by far. I am hoping that Val returns with a story or three that will lift him further, and perhaps help pull him out of the depression that takes his face when nobody is looking.

    The lake was blessedly quiet, with only a few of the usual goblin rabble about, so we took the time to catch a few fish while we chatted. It was mostly me talking, of course, but he seemed happy which was what mattered anyway.

    I admit, I caught myself glancing about for Ashena more than a couple of times, as she has a knack for arriving at the most random moments, but alas, I did not see her today either.

    It's been several days, but I still have the memories of our last visit to keep me company, and the things we spoke of. I am now grinning at this book like a loon, and Bill seems to have awoken from his nap and is looking at me strangely, so I'd best put this up for now.

    I wonder how Val is doing._