3. "Finding a Balance of sorts" - A journal of Leena

"Finding a Balance of sorts" - A journal of Leena


  • _There's something to be said for having a shield. If you have a shield, you can fight from behind it. It can save you from taking blows that might otherwise hit home, or outright strike you down. It can deflect pressure from you, allowing you to slip to the side and deal some damage. It can even absorb the brunt of an impact, and take damage itself, instead of you.

    Now I know what these inanimate objects, and people who get used as one, feel like. Before I continue, reader, whoever you may be, don't get me wrong. I willingly haul myself to the front of a line when I need to. The bow collects dust in my pack after that, since it's hard to skip forward to fill a role where you're needed, and then fall right back as if you won't be needed up there again, despite having needed to go up there in the first place. I even volunteer to go on adventures with folks whose strengths are -not- being frontline fighters. Like, for this example, Roslyn and Ginger.

    We decided, after much deliberation on where to go and adventure, to head off to the orcs, and bother them. We cleared out the cave to the Northwest, first, before heading further west, to go up the mountains, past the wolves, into the caves, and to grandmother's house we go. The first cave was simple. I hoarded my magic, and simply took my sister's coral and driftwood hammer to them instead, mashing them left and right. This thing … is perfect. I've felled a gnoll in a single hit!

    Those weaker orcs died even more easily. It was amazing. Though of course, it was only a precursor to the real challenge, which was, of course, heading up the mountain further. Winter Wolves proved less of a threat than one would expect, since we were all prepared for cold, and the hammer-orcs, which I used to fear greatly, fell with no spectacular effort. With two able scouts, I knew what situations I was walking into before I showed my face, and surprise barely had time to register on my enemy's faces before their faces still for the last time.

    We searched for prisoners, we scoured for treasures, we hunted for signs of anything amiss, and we fought. And by we fought ... at this point what I really mean is "I swung at things to get them to overreach and try to hit me, then Ros and Ginger turned them into sad bloody porcupines. I hope I never piss the two of them off.

    We killed hundreds of orcs, just us three. The two hin joked about training a whole army of archers in their tactics. The thought makes me shudder. Imagine a whole field creeping along, concealed in tall grass, their forms would just look like the grass moving, being so small, before a thousand arrows you never saw coming, came streaking your way.

    They're the perfect shadows to me. I have an orange glow about me these days from Alvaniel's ring, for which I owe her an enchantment, and I wear my father's old armor, long forgotten in an unused chest, still dyed in the blak and blue of the legion when I found it. It's green and brown now, and I take no efforts to hide. I have my displacerbeast armor for that, after all ...

    We crushed our opposition on the way there, and had some trouble on the way back, but made it through nonetheless, and afterward ... I felt ... more capable. More powerful. Like I learned an important lesson, something about who I am.

    I feel strong, and I think the Gods have blessed me yet again. I need to go try it out, but I think I've gained some knowledge the last time I slept.

    My dream was that I was outnumbered by gnolls, cackling demon gnolls, like that recent mining trip I organized for Gnarl, and they had me backed into a small valley, and as a last ditch effort, I wished for a storm to take them with me ... and fire rained down, burning all but me.

    I awoke feeling strong, not scared. I'm more alive than I've ever been. I feel, however ... that my role is gradually changing. I'm needed up front more, me and Fayt both, despite my preference for bow and spell. I think I'm going to need to do some research, and see if anybody has ever made Ironwood Fullplate ..._


  • _Gods above, what a day.

    I've avoided writing about the Beeble situation just yet, mostly to try to keep it out of my mind so I don't accidentally go venturing into the dreamscape while I sleep, and end up there again. Especially not alone…

    From confronting a nightmare about Dad leaving to get away from me, and other silliness, to watching my friends fight far more real names with their own particular apparitions, the horrid nightmare creatures we had to fight seem almost tame by comparison.

    Almost.

    Through it all, there was something comforting. Everything Dad taught me, everything in his journals, it all helped. I got to exercise the number one rule of fighting as a Druid. Druids Cheat.

    I bent the dreamscape we were in around us, and guided us through where I could, and fought like hell every time we found battle... And until the very end, it did not seem like enough. Especially when we watched what had happened to Beeble... Poor Beeble.

    I tried to change it. I really did. I felt something move, give... Just a little! I screamed myself hoarse, and tried to bend my way through not just a dream, but a memory... And my very -mind- still hurts from it. I would say it was for nothing, as we returned without him, but I think that in another world, another space beside ours, he's OK.

    I really hope that somewhere, he's OK...

    Now to write about the last day or so..._


  • _I'm torn up, and don't know what to do.

    On one hand, I'm going to go revisit an enemy who thinks I'm it's friend, to try to free someone I don't know from it's clutches, after diving directly into it's nigh inescapable prison, with the help of a NECROMANCER, who I ALSO don't know, on the words of a bard I barely know, a sneak whom I know a bit, and a Dryad that I've had two or three entire conversations with.

    I've got no stake in this fight, personally.

    I've got no winning card up my sleeve.

    I've got every reason NOT to go, due to the nature of who is involved, and having a pretty good idea of what we're going up against, some kind of mutated, tampered with, well fed dream vestige with some, dare I say it, vestige of a personality.

    I KNOW better.

    I'm under prepared… I haven't enchanted my armor, my sword, though useful against a fleshy target of hobgoblin strength of less, probably won't do me much good against these undead and dream-fey we're likely to face, and there's hardly an arrow in the world that'll help me either, given that my fireball ones will also hurt my allies.

    Tactics wise, I know my greatest strength is my ability to walk in dreams as if they are the real world, and augment my own reality , and that of those near me, but this thing LIVES (If you can call it that) in the dream plane. How the fark are we actually planning on competing with this?

    It makes sense now, and I feel bad for being dismissive of Isolde and Nate. I think I understand their pixie parade thing now. They're going to try to happy the creature to death or distraction ... I fear.

    If that's their plan, with the goofy outfits, and the sparkly glitter wands, then I'll play along, and I'll be silly and goofy and happy, and rescue this Aesso the Amazing for her pals the tree-lady and the ogre farking necromancer ... but I'll do it like Ros says. Shake their hand with my right, and have a Rock in my left. Except my Rock is going to be dispelling magic and lightning and fire and wrath.

    Oh ... and I'm bringing a surprise, too.

    If my sword won't bite ... I'll bring something that will.

    If you're reading this because you found my corpse, in this world or that of dreams, tell my sister that I'm sorry for not getting to help raise Asha, and that I'll see her and Mom and Dad again somehow, some way, even if I have to do it through dreams.

    Time to go scrounge up as many cheating supplies as I can. Goodbyes suck, so I'm aiming for the win, here.

    I just wish I could trust that everyone's head is in this as much as their hearts... But!

    On the other hand... It's cage is weakening. If we don't close it, untold numbers of people could suffer, or be devoured themselves. That being said, I guess I do have stake in this fight. I consider myself a "good guy", but if a Priest or Paladin were to label me, I might fall more in the middle by their scale.

    Still.

    I can't let this go. I can't just let it happen without doing what I can about it. If nothing else, I have the excuse that this, too, is a matter of the Balance. Between the realm of dreams, and the realm of the woken Prime.

    Shit...I wonder what kind of state Avalon is in...._


  • _I need to be better about taking notes.

    So much has happened, and I've spent more time and gold running about getting into trouble than I have sitting down and collecting my thoughts. And trouble has been my middle name!

    I met a fellow whom I suspect was the former knight that's being looked for, just by his sort of noble but soldiery demeanor, and willingness to help an outnumbered stranger… But speaking of others...

    There are a few distinct forms of flattery that I'm susceptible to. One of which is respect for me as one would respect a truly dangerous foe. I'm honestly not that scary. Sure i can cast a while lot of lightning if I'm prepared for it, or set you on fire, and watch you burn while it lasts a seemingly impossible amount of time... And that's not even considering the wrapping vines, choking clouds of air, the ground greasing and becoming treacherous, all while I dance about in it unharmed. . . I mean sure, that can seem scary, but then you go out on a Bugbear hunt with my sister...

    Bugbears turn on one another, then get destroyed from within and without, quickly and without mercy, at a furious pace that would have left me breathless from the sheer exertion... Had it not happened in a matter of moments.

    But hey, catching up with her was nice, and better yet, she's proud of me. I'm smiling just thinking about it. Her baby girl Asha is apparently doing well, as are her and Jonni in the Witch and Seer. I'm proud of her right back, frankly. Despite Dad's shaky example of partnerships early in his life, at least one of us seems to have gotten it right.

    As for me... Well apparently I talk about Artemis a lot apparently. She asked if I was in love with him, and I remember sputtering something before telling her the truth. I don't know! It's not a "no," but I don't know what it is yet. Time will tell.

    After getting jumped by two vamps that I could hardly hurt, I've slightly adjusted my spell-plan, so hopefully next time will go better. . .

    Now then. The thoughts. Apparently, the Bloodspiders are in open war with the vampires. The self proclaimed Duke of The Docks vampire said that the Bloodspiders are no longer welcome there, under penalty of death. A shadowy character that I believe from various notes and stories to be the once-believed-dead Vloss Orbb, is called Master by said Bloodspiders, and has declared war on the vampires as well. Leena Barackivus (did I spell that right?) It's a Bloodspider Captain apparently, and I got her arrested, causing her sister to try to bargain with me... This is the flattery part I mentioned earlier...

    She brought like, a dozen guards with her in case i didn't want to play nice. A DOZEN! She was infuriatingly polite and clever, and I think I'm another world we might have been friends... I'm just-waiting- for the invitation for tea. Hah!

    She had a request that I work to get her sister released, and a truce between ME and the Bloodspiders. Not Us. Just Me. I knew arresting that broad was going to get me into trouble... Now somebody else thinks I'm a threat all by myself, and if I don't play nice, it's probably assassination attempt time yet again.

    Sis says to tell anybody farking with me that they'll have to deal with her... But she's at home taking care of the baby, and I won't do anything to bring danger her way. Not for anything in the world. She may be worlds stronger than me, but I'm going to cheat my ass off, and surprise all these bastards, vampires and Bloodspiders, and Beebles alike!

    Now if only I felt as brave I look on this page..._


  • _Sometimes, I re-read what I've written, and some things just seem to click into place, like a sword into its original scabbard. When I was about to put will to quill here this time, I was reminded of rights.

    I spent the better part of the day nestled under the arm of Artemis in the Commons of Peltarch. I had evidently dozed off, and when I came to, Artemis was just strollng in. I hesitated, about to cast my usual spells, as it had bitten me in the ass last time… And he's there anyway. It someone comes after me out of nowhere, they're going to catch ball lightning up the ass while I have a moment to get ready.

    It was... Nice.

    Part of me wonders...

    Bah, anyway. We went to the sewers a few days ago after seeing some Bloodspider gang types heading down there, Artemis, Ros, Isolde, Alvaniel and I, maybe someone else? Gnarl? We went down there to investigate, and ended up happening across an arcanist who had apparently made a vampire detection glyph to protect her higher ups meeting.

    From what I've learned since, thanks to Magistrate Shannon, we apparently saw the infamous Vloss Orbb himself, before we ended up capturing a women with a nice name, but a bad attitude. Leena Barackivus, apparent noble of house Barackivus, and apparent heir in her father's footsteps too, the late senator Barackivus. If I have it correct, Vloss is supposed to be dead, from a Grag Axe to the head, and the senator died in a cell from poisoning.

    My do we ever lived in interesting times. Then, just as things send calm much later, a mercenary band called the Crimson Spikes showed up, looking for a former Purple Dragon Knight who aided in the escape of a young noble woman, and are thought to be in or near Peltarch. I'm not sure if they should be found and turned over, or if this is another case of classic Narfellian politics where innocents are questionable enough to begin with, and justice is cloudy at best.

    Time will tell.

    As for time, as I was leaving, Artemis asked if I wanted him to walk me to wherever I was going. I thought a moment, and aaskedhim if -he- wanted to walk me anywhere, and even he made noises about enjoying my company, he couldn't quite tell me that he actually wanted to. I stated the difference for him, hugged him, and left in the shape of a hawk.

    Maybe he'll be more decisive next time?_


  • _Trends get my hair to stand on end.

    It's a little like standing in the woods, and noticing that there's more deer hanging about than usual… And then my mind takes off without the rest of me, and I see the population boom, it's effect on the land, the following growth of predator populations, the subsequent hunting, then overhunting, then...

    Ugh. I could write that for an hour.

    Between the damnable goblin fight, then the GIANT orc... Seriously he was like, giant big, and then the cheif.... Something messed up is happening.

    Or I'm interpreting a trend where there is none.

    Either way, all of them were almost completely immune to magic. I'm no super badass, but my magic generally takes a bite out of whatever is screwing with me. Artemis IS a badass, and for the two of those he was there for... His didn't work either!

    Bullshit. It's just plain bullshit!

    Unless it's something worse than bullshit and I'm right.

    Why does it always SUCK even I'm right?

    At least Artemis is back. I didn't realize how comfortable I am fighting beside him, even if he does forget what he's capable of sometimes. That, and I worry about him, now. Apparently the Nexus war got worse after I left, and it's left a mark on him. I want to say I'm going to help him... But is that even my right?

    Maybe I'll try to make it my right._


  • _BEEBLE

    I made a friend today, and it started with a poacher attack.

    Three animals came for me while I was standing outside my treehouse, spelling myself up for the day's trials yet to come, whatever they may be.

    Gods, did my habits serve me well today.

    A bear came to me, rubbing up against my leg while I distractedly stared off in thought, just before a hawk landed upon my shoulder. I pat the bear, and fed the hawk, and a dog approached, whom I noticed was bleeding some.

    I healed him, but found that his injuries were worse than I thought, and were caused by a sword. As were those on the bear. And the hawk? It had an arrowhead lodged in him, and clipped wings, so he could not fly far. It was a wonder he made it to me at all.

    I mended the creatures, with herb and with spell, and the branches scattered outside my home gave notice of the bandit looking thugs that approached before their voices and smell did. They approached, and told me that I had something of theirs, so I made them tell me what, playing dumb and riling them up.

    They claimed that they were dealing under the table with Norwick for animals illegally…

    I muttered a quiet prayer, and a dedication to the storm lord of their lives, should they press me, and continued making them speak, asking them what would happen should I deny them. Naturally ... they threatened my life, so I smiled, thanked them for telling me all I needed to hear, and smote them down, all three at once, with a mighty trio of bolts, courtesy of Talos and one angry Woods Witch.

    Two smoldering corpses and a crater later, I saw it. A faint light to my side, that I could -swear- was observing me the whole time.

    This ... this must have been what Ros was talking about. Beeble. Thank the GODS she'd forewarned me about a dream eating maniac called Beeble. I would have been in serious trouble had I not been prepared ...

    We talked for an hour nearly, politely, as I laid my hand out immediately and addressed him by name, bidding him to simply make me his offer and be on his way. That thoroughly impressed him, and after complimenting me on my prowess, eventually led the conversation back to discussing his deal. I agreed, but upon a condition ... and I brought us back to the Nexus where I have started my successful dreamwalks.

    It's like an island, but it is alone in the dark.

    It's neutral. It's safe. It's isolated. It's familiar, but only as familiar as something you've barely seen can be.

    Sounded perfect, and there we went. He was impressed, despite acting wounded that I would be so cautious when he'd been so polite, but I made him see the reason for my caution, and he made me his first offer. His aid in fighting nightmares, both in my natural dreams, and in the dreamscape.

    I told him that I already -had- that power, and he'd have to do better.

    Secrets for secrets then! My dreams and memories, for knowledge of the NIGHT PARADE.

    I told him I'd never heard of it, shrugged it off, and let him play himself out, giving me information for nothing, even if it was merely tidbits. I had nothing so far, so anything helped.

    I even asked what he wanted, after that.

    I want FREEDOM toots. I'm CAGED. I was caged a long time ago by a pissed off mage who had nothing better to do but experiment on the poor and the helpless.

    I don't look this way by choice, I'll tell you that right now! And I tried to get people around here to help me, to no avail, because they don't understand.

    Lore 21: A few creatures in the Dreamscape eat memories. Or specifically, the dreams of memories and the nightmares they can cause.

    One such thing is called the Dream Vestige ... but it doesn't look like this eye thing. It's a gibbering collection of different nightmares, a necromantic, undead creature that feeds off of nightmares to make itself stronger.

    He never did tell me where his cage was, why he was caged, or HOW to bust it open, but I suspect our next visit will be more informative and interesting, one way or another. I realized I might be pressing too hard, and might give myself away with my subtle information gathering, so I told him:

    "Now, since I respect you and your honesty so far, I'll be straight with ya, Mister Beebs.

    I need my beauty rest, and I don't think you were being entirely honest with me soooo... we can talk again when you're feeling more straightforward. It has been nice, though. this was fun! "

    I stroked the little eyeball image, and said the Sylvan word for "wake" to myself, felt my body's lips move, and with a little Willpower ... I woke.

    The only thing that chased me were it's words.

    Hey, WAIT ... COME BACK HERE ... C'MON, THAT'S NOT FAIR. HEY!

    Now here I am at home, writing it all down, wondering if I did the right thing ... or if I'm in way over my head.

    At least I had a nap!

    SubNote: talked to Ros and Ginger after. Garric Hemway's great grandfather was part of the night parade, Duran Hemway, and found Beedle. Realized the danger, and sealed him in the prison. Couldn't kill Beedle, had some kind of affection for it.

    Shortly after -that- talk, I was brushing my hair for once, a little self conscious that I was once again hanging out with beautiful people... first it's my sister, then people like Isolde, and now Atel! ... and two goblins point to us, and scamper off after nodding, so I blasted them to hell with lightning. Whatever they were up to, it couldn't be good, right?

    Turns out another goblin was trying to find a wife for his chief, who brought his tribe here from the Lost City, thanks to ... guess who? No really, guess.

    Can you figure it out?

    It's Elvadriel. Of FARKING COURSE it's Elvadriel. It's always her.

    Anyway, a survivor runs to get more, a small army shows up, and we're blasting and slashing and farking them up, Me, Belia, Atel, Ginger, and Ros ... and some fark-all huge ones show up with Axes, and try their best to take Atel's head off.

    They nearly succeeded. She dropped like a sack of flour, and since I had stoneskin on, I trusted Talos to have my back, dropped my weapons, and dove over her to try to stop the bleeding.

    The side of her neck was open, and her eyes were staring at the sky, blinking, and blank. I closed the wound with a handful of wet herbs from my pouch and a bandage that probably almost choked the poor gal, before applying healing magicks. I hear that quick and dirty healing when someone's that far gone is rumored to have some nasty side effects...

    She blinked properly, then, her eyes focusing on me, and I forced her to stay down a minute, while the lightning struck around the friends still fighting the goblin chopping at my stoneskinned back.

    I didn't even realize how hurt I was until I started checking on the others, and realized that some of that blood on me smelled like my own.

    Long story short ... she made it. We rested at my place, and the goblin that we let live after an interesting, magic-proof battle brought us tribute! I got a new pack and another ring of healing for when I do the traditional healing stuff to help keep my hands steady as I cut, and gentle as I mend.

    She played a nice song, later, and hugged me on her way out, whispering thank you in my ear.

    Sometimes, it's those little things that make your entire day._


  • _Don't let paranoia win. She says.

    She, of course, being the lady I met only briefly before, here in the commons of Peltarch. Everything is shinier here, including the people!

    So there I was, minding my own business, when up walks this really, I mean like, Elaine level of pretty woman. Turns out her name is Isolde Girasomethingorother. A bardess, of course, and apparently noble too? Another noblewoman Jessica somethingorother (Gods I'm awful with names today, I must be too worked up) flounced her way over, insulting everyone as she came along, claiming we weren't invited to her little party of some sort, a masquerade … but Isolde got an invitation from a "Mysterious masked man!"

    I'd say I'm envious, but I tend to stab those types first, and ask questions later. Life must be more romantic when you're noble... I don't know!

    After some back and forth, Isolde flaunting her invitation, me perhaps charming me way onto the list through the lady's poor abused butler (Monty! Jessica couldn't even call him by his name!), some guards came up to investigate a THEFT! The little piss-addled hare-brained, mewling quim of a misbegotten tavern wench reported Isolde for STEALING the invitation. I may not know this lady well, but I was willing to bet my biscuits ten minutes in that Isolde was ten times the woman this Jessica was.

    10 minutes after -that-, and one guard frisking later since I had them frisk me instead of her, all was well and clear, and I'd made a new acquaintance.

    Today, however, I had news for her apparent Paramour, the mysterious Nathan Wingates. He's supposedly older than MY Dad, but looks my age, and some mutual friends wanted me to pass along a message, so I did, with Isolde there in tow.

    I'm so ... conflicted.

    I passed along the information, and did my best to exaggerate it's importance, especially since it involved my one time friend Elvadriel, who they apparently trust with their lives. Or at least Isolde does. Nathan was quieter, and Isolde and I went at great length back and forth about not only Elvadriel, but the Subject of Great Import that Elvadriel is involved in. I daren't write more details than that because for all I know, parties unknown might kill me and get this journal, and if they do, and it's you reading this, Suck the Balls of a Juggling Ogre!

    They agreed to check in on their friend, but only out of love and caring, and refuse to see my suspicions, despite confirming that yes, Elvadriel is, in fact, a Necromancer.

    Fark.

    They claim she's a Sirion kind of necromancer, purely academic ... but I suspect that there's rarely such a thing. Especially since they said they know that she will in fact control Undead. They can't confirm she won't raise them, nor deny it...

    I'm no Paladin.

    I'm not EVEN CLOSE.

    But that's anathema to a Druid. It's a perversion of all that is life. You want me to accept that as being okay? Alright, cool. One more Defiler, coming right up!

    Alright, so maybe that was a touch dramatic, but where the fark does one draw that line? When is it okay to draw something dead from it's rest, and use it for your own means? Would they feel the same about taking domination of a living thing, like a Vampire? One of which apparently killed Nate?

    They took me into the college, and fed me, and shared their drink. They complimented me on the handling of the vamp situation, and praised my actions and bravery and power and skill. They dazzled me with their charm and beauty, and I admit to having found myself thinking awkward thoughts about the both of them, which made me blush and does so even now, since I knew nothing about myself to that effect, even now ... yet ... I don't know what to do but distance myself and wait.

    They care for Elvadriel. A lot. They want to resolve this all peacefully, and condone her actions, which frankly, they have the leisure to do. I, however, cannot. Control and undead to open a negative energy warded door? Okay, sure. Then put it out of it's misery.

    Raise them on your own?

    I'd best see to it that you never get to again.

    Elvadriel and I were friends, once. At least I like to think so. Was I being played, even then?

    I'd best quit writing about this now before I depress even myself. Apologies, dear reader, unless you killed me. In which case, again, Fark off and die.

    We spoke of other things, like my Gnomish Positioning Scroll. I carried one ever since I could afford my first, and my friends could always find me. Even saved my life, once, having it on me. Now I wonder if it has been used against me. Nate cautioned as much, and even Isolde lacks one, but she said to me this.

    "Don't let Paranoia win. "

    She said that's how the badguys get to you, or something along those lines.

    After I took my leave, I sold it to that magic shop elf in Peltarch, and walked away from it. I missed it as soon as I hit the commons, as I usually check it before sitting down to write like I am now, so I can actively fight the loneliness and find some company for adventure or chit chat ... but now I don't think I will again. I've too much to lose.

    Why do I feel like I've lost something all the same, then?

    There's Alvaniel. I should put this away._


  • _I have a date!

    I was sitting in the Commons of Peltarch, writing a letter, and basically feeling sorry for myself for a moment while I had the time to do so. Yeah, it's pathetic, but my mind has been a traitorous bitch lately, and needs to lay off on the lonely feelings.

    Anyway, there I was, writing away and some people wandered up. Rico, a knight looking fellow, and Labur, the tough as nails dwarf who was with us for our Coldstones trip!

    We all ended up deciding to go for a walk after I announced my intention to do so, and away we went. I layered on the spells like I do, and explained the bit about being a little paranoid, and as i was rambling, a white stag appeared. After a brief question about how much it's pelt would cost… It became a Her. Aoth then joined our walk, and we made it to Norwick unmolested. We spoke briefly about assassination attempts along the way, though, so if I disappear under strange circumstances they know where to go sniffing about.

    In Norwick, we talked of armors and stags and fighting pits and food and drink, and had a general good time. Labur passed out some of his peach ale, which was absolutely wonderful! Belia showed us a beautiful white stag armor, she made it without killing any herself, too!

    Labur is also learning to make axes, and I offered to go try them out with him, to which he replied, "It's a date!" In his broken Common speech, so I guess it is a date!

    First date I've had in a long time, too. Hey, I should wear my special ring!_

    An added scribbled in note reads:

    Note to self, get a bell to put on Hen!


  • _I sit here near that misty pond, sword across my lap. It shines with a blood red shimmer that will never go away. It's my Spirit Sword of Elven Blood. Platinum, durable, and blessed or somehow altered by one of the freed spirits from the elf camp, whenever one of my strikes lands perfectly true, two additional sword strikes join it, as if an elven blade dancer were joining me in the parting of the flesh of my foes.

    Naturally, the group of goblins creeping around behind me is giving me a few minutes of peace while they try to fathom how lightning struck their kin dead as I casually walked past their screaming charging advances… So now that my sword is polished again, I'm taking the time to write and think.

    I haven't seen much of my sister since i got back this latest time, and now she's... Well, busy being pregnant. When I'm not visiting there, I'm out adventuring. When I'm not doing that I'm patrolling about or visiting with the others in the glen, but when I'm not doing that?

    I'm alone.

    I used to enjoy it, but lately the treehouse seems empty. I'll summon Dad's direwolf for company, but it's not the same. I need a best friend or something, and it wasn't til I sat down to think about it that I realized that I don't really have one.

    There's Ras, who is like family, but I don't know that he sees me as much as a friend, more like someone to protect, and like I said, family.

    There's Hen, but she's always "working" in some fashion. And she's distant in many ways. Don't get me wrong, I don't always share my thoughts, but I feel like I sometimes intrude on hers.

    There's Willow, who I haven't seen in a while. My fault, I was gone, but she too has so much going on with herself and her man and her God calls her to distant places like my own calling seems to do to me.

    And hell, this is why I write. The problem isn't them... it's me.

    I haven't stuck around long enough to make these laying relationships...

    Shit.

    I wonder how Artemis is doing..._


  • _The Coldstones.

    They should rename them the ice fangs or something more menacing, I think. NOT that we made it so high that it was too cold to continue, but there was so much danger constantly… That it made you weary to your very core, like something has its jaws around your insides... And all you want to do is fall down in the snow, and sleep.

    Yes... Sleep sounds good.

    No! Gotta write. Must remember.

    Just to GET to the mountains, you now have to go through Jiyyd. Poor destroyed Jiyyd, where Dad first began his time in Narfell. Now it's a shielded wasteland full of demons and other people's memories. I feel like an unwelcome stranger walking through it, and I was certain I was being watched... even as we dispatched every quasit we encountered.

    Labur and Vander led the way, Elvadriel providing magely support, Belia and on druid duty, and Ros and Ginger keeping an eye out for stuff the rest of us might not notice. Aedric was there, and though cautious, made a valuable sword arm as well. Ras was there too, thankfully, as he was the most important part. Aside from being a very capable warrior, he was also our guide.

    I'm sure I missed someone, but the details elude me. Sleep threatens, and I take off running, quill in hand.

    We fought undead Njast soldiers, we fought winter wolves, we fought scores and hordes of snow goblins, and we even explored some extra caves. Only a couple truly scary things happened.

    One, we encountered a Chilblain, which is basically a snake-like dragon in icy realms. I muttered a thanks to Kossuth for gracing me with the power I had prepared, and summoned a roaring stream of fire at the beast, having to hold still in its path to cast it... when with a different kind of roar, its soul seemed to leave it and it fell down lifeless, my fire petering out upon that realization.

    Elvadriel had cast something like Slay Living... or some equivalent, and that fight was over. A Druid doesn't cast something like that without being ready to answer for it, but a necromancer would. All day long. I sigh as I write this, because even as my friends old and new seem to call her friend, that day leading up to our confrontation in the tower still lingers between us. I still know not what to do...

    The other scary thing was that behind the Chilblain, was a ghostly apparition who claimed to be a Peltarch noble looking for a tree. Blah blah blah you and everyone else looking for some tree, pal. We left him with only more questions, and continued our adventure.

    At one point, a quake shook the cave we were in. When I tried to dire bear dig our way out, I got stuck between two rockfalls, and had to get clever. I had an air elemental push my birdshaped self out a hole in the cavern ceiling, then lowered a rope their way... except I had popped up surrounded by snow goblins.

    I fought my own personal small army of them, several waves of then, screeching gibbering screaming slavering monsters set for my blood, as if I was at fault for the cave in.

    Arrows flew, as accurately as I could send them. I could not afford a missed shot . Goblins charged. Goblins cast. Goblins shot. Goblins died. I raised my hands to the skies above , beseeched Talos himself for his aid, and even as arrows scored my armor and some found flesh, I felt that electric tingle of the very air around me taking fire.

    The skies poured forth lightning as dozens of goblins struggled to find their target. "She's alone! " Some must have said. "It's her fault the ceiling fell!" I heard them blame. On they came, and died, to arrow, lightning bolt, and when they got close enough to threaten me, blade. I can only imagine they're confusion. One screaming, growling woman, suddenly vengeful weather, and the ever horrifying "what's that smell why can't I breathe where am I what's happening" moment from my choking powder bombs.

    It was scary until the others finally managed to climb up the rope i lowered for them . Snow goblins are tougher than their green cousins. It was scary how close I came to bring overwhelmed. It's scary how much magic I used on this trip, and how much fighting I still did when I had spent my gifts.

    More than that... it was scary how much I liked it. The struggle to survive, the spray of blood on my skinknowing, that the strike I lashed out with at an enemy I couldn't quite see landed home, and the change in the screams of my enemies changing from a thirst for my blood... to a surprised cry of seeing and losing their own.

    Rule #1 you little bastards. Druids Cheat._


  • _Ros died today.

    She died literally in my arms.

    While we were all fighting a tremendous pile of gnolls, apparently she found a locked up hin, and tried to set him free, triggering a trap. She was barely breathing and badly burned. Had I been there a moment sooner, maybe, it would have made a difference… but I was, at the moment of her scream, pouring a stream of fire onto a demonic gnoll, while his little pals hacked chips out of my stoneskin.

    It had all started innocently enough. Ros , Ginger, then Theaon and some new fella, Aedric all showed up in Norwick, as we were planning what to go do with our day. Aedric needed potions , Ros wanted to see Gnolls, so away we went.

    Boy were they worked up! Ras and Hen showed up at some point and joined in the fight, and it got absolutely crazy. I did, however, remember a trick! Gnolls are a lot like dogs. Their noses are very sensitive! I gathered mushroom spores months ago, lots of them, and I'm quite immune to their effects... so I made plenty of clouds in their ranks and really ruined their days. Sure my allies walked into them too.... And there were complaints about how people hate "bottled Brumir's butt", but it worked out okay. Scores of them died.

    It reminded me of being up in the Coldstones... oh man I have to write about that too! It got scary, and creepy.

    Anyway, we rescued the fella in the cage, people called him Pep? And spent a YEAR dividing all three potions and stuff. At the very least though, I think Aedric got what he needed. I hope Ros is okay. I should bake her something..._


  • _I shot a tree today.

    This is not to say that we're all tree hugging loonies, and I feel bad for shooting the tree. I don't. It was an accident. I feel silly because I'm jumping at shadows. I thought there was someone lurking there…

    Not Shadows with a capital S, but ever since that assassination attempt, I've been on my toes. I feel silly, because people I know are being stalked by vampires, and Captial S shadows, and the like, and here I am jumping at regular ones.

    Sure, I have several friends, but I don't always hang around them. They have lives of their own, and don't necessarily need a pet Druidess following them around. That being said, I -am- trying to make more of an effort to be around other people. Not just to discourage assassinations, but because I think I need it. And I want it. I crave company, these days, and it's surprisingly hard to find sometimes.

    Ras is always good company, but he's got more on his plate than most. He -really- doesn't need bothering. I had started making friends for a while with that mage Elvadriel, but then I hunted a Necromancer, and the trail led to her, and I still think it's her. I still can't trust her, even after we all kept each other alive in the Lost City mere days ago.

    Anyway, all dark thoughts aside ... I got a nice letter from Anna Blake for the circle, it seems she wants to be an ally to us in an official capacity, so I'm excited to tell Fadia about that. AND there's a Stone Circle near Peltarch now, in thanks to the Druids for helping restore that area near the Temposan shrine that apparently got destroyed by a Meteor while I was away.

    Holy smokes, right?

    Anyhow, I'd best go make good on my plan to go socialize. Here's hoping nothing -too- eventful happens today. Or maybe I hope it does?

    Ugh, I'm the worst at deciding these things!_


  • _Sometimes, it's easy to feel like you're not enough.

    Sometimes, you get that feeling that you're not strong enough, or smart enough, or hells, pretty enough.

    Other times, though… You get exactly what you needed. Like today!

    I napped, awoke, and made by way to Norwick, where I found nobody of note hanging about. Spelling up as I normally do, now that I'm apparently a target for assassination, I went south in search of company.

    I found tracks. Dwarf tracks, elf tracks, human tracks, all heading south, so off I went. I hadn't harassed the hobs in quite some time, so I gambled and went through the graveyard. At night. Knowing vampires have been seen about... OK, so it wasn't my brightest idea, but it panned out. The tracks picked up again, and heading east, I found dead hobs, and one particularly mutilated... Something.

    Right. Definitely on the right track.

    Of all the places, they went into the Bugbear mine. Naturally, I followed, camouflage magic in place and a lightning arrow nocked. I found Belia and the rest by that little cave room that looks like a bugbears idea of a library, and when we all got ready to leave, I waited outside.. Only to see a small army of hobgoblins and bugbears marching our way.

    Rushing inside, I told the others, and we barricaded the door with book cases to make a choke point, and no sooner were we finished, then the fight was on! I mainly filled the doorway with arrows at first, (thank goodness for dwarves being short!!) Then managed to snake lightning through the cave and really light things up!

    My fingers were sore, and I was contemplating throwing a spore back out the door to slow down the rush, but Vander was too close, so I opted for some tangling vines instead. They caught him too, but stopped three huge bugbears in their tracks. I decided that was for the best after a huge one got into the back ranks.

    What. A. Fight.

    With some close calls, we made it, and cut down some leader, breaking their morale and sending the rest scurrying for their lives.

    All that, and the only thing that made a huge difference to me, was Ginger, who said, "Hey Leena, I'm glad you were there. " Or something similar, that made me feel good, and needed, and strong. Or maybe it was Ros? One little thankful compliment.

    Sometimes , that's all it takes._


  • _As evidenced by my last page, life has gotten interesting. I'm back again, thanks to that nagging feeling every time it feels like I'm missing something that I -need- to be back home for, and I strongly suspect that I'll end up like Dad in yet another way. That is to say, tied to Narfell til the Gods take me, whichever way that happens.

    So far it's been assassinations, and trials, and magic, oh my!

    Upon being back, I've realized a couple of things. First, I've missed my old friends, and the thrill of meeting new ones. Next, men older than my father need to quit having his same trick of looking younger. It's deceiving. Finally … I need to get my damned armor enchanted or something. That was too close!

    I can't say it's been uneventful being back, at least. I even just got back from a trip to the lost city that we four barely survived.

    My wrists hurts too much to write more right now, but I have thoughts to put down here later.

    Now, where can I find a darkwood seed or sapling..._


  • The journal is dusted off.

    The pages before are skimmed through and chuckled along to.

    A new page is turned to, crisp and unblemished front and back, and upon it, three humanoid figures are drawn in simple barbarian wear, and then crossed through in red ink with a light line in an X shape.

    Below it, in the same ink.

    _**Day one of stepping into Dad's shoes it seems, has come and gone. Three Tribesman assassins came after my friend and I who I will not name for caution of this being found.

    I have left a message that many will figure for Bugbear work. Two impaled by the tree near the gob cave at the lake. One hung, as if the tree were a gallows, by his own belt.

    Hopefully the message was received by the intended party.

    If not, I'm sure I'll get to send another soon.**_


  • _Some days, come as tests.

    A simple run near Jiyyd to keep down the levels of bandit activity to keep the hinfolk safe, turned into a battle for my life, and that of Elvaniel. But at the cost of losing the lives of, and not I'm not kidding, Treants!

    What went from a clearing out and general discouraging of banditry evolved when a group of them returned to see me burning their supplies, and turned into finding out that some Fiendish Necromancer Succubi lookin broads had been stirring up trouble, and encouraging them to enroach on a grove near there… where some Treants apparently live at the moment.

    We explored, met them, and they asked for our help, fearing the succubi's true allies, the Minotaurs with their greataxes.

    After some shoving of rocks, positioning ourselves at the gates, and flinging arrows and spells aplenty, before having to nearly get cut down with sword-work, we defeated the main (As Willow calls them) Succubitch, and saved them, for now.

    We were rewarded with a ring each, capable of healing nearly any wound, and the thanks of very old and powerful beings.

    I took a trip into the mountains days before that, and learned the form of a Winter Wolf, and even learned Dire Bear and Dire Tiger in the days that followed, with the help of my friends.

    Still, some work I've ended up doing has hit close to home in the best way lately, as I've been able to , like earlier today, put a stop to a necromancer witch in the Rawlins, (It was definitely not the one I've been pursuing.) with the help of a Darien and a new mage to the land whose name escapes me at the moment... yet it could not have been won without her magic. Man, I was playing some serious bait!

    Only a day later, pirates attacked the riverboat, and I was in no mood for mercy. When they made it clear they would not leave without a fight, I cast a line of flames across the deck of their ship as they prepared to board mine, and then summoned the storm upon their heads. I think one got away, but two definitely perished. I -did- warn them.

    Before that, those damned goblins took more animals to that rancid cave, and were turning them, and I barely managed to save a young wolf pup, after fighting a massive beast champion of theirs, mostly through creative use of darkness and trickery to deal with the goblins themselves.

    I brought the pup to the nearby wolfwoods, and was met by a creature unlike any I have yet met. He called himself Germourk, and was able to speak, somehow. Not uncommon among magical creatures, but I had thought him just a wolf at first, though a thoroughly large and scarred up one.

    He took the pup, at least, and I went on my way, feeling good about his safety. It's a good thing I patrol those caves regularly now... trouble seemingly does not rest within them.

    I wonder what the next day will bring!_


  • _I have an awful lot to catch up on today. The skies are clear, then Glen is quiet, and a good meal has me feeling fine. It's a good start for the day, so it only makes sense to record that yes, sometimes I do have a quiet, uneventful start to the day.

    I think I'll go backwards this time, to try to better keep track! I -could- just … you know, do better about writing WHEN things happen, but I've never been very good at punctuality.

    So first, I am still monitoring those caves.

    If Elvadriel IS the Necromancer, I doubt she'd be dumb enough to keep causing shenanigans where I can easily find them, and therefore her, but you never know. Plus, I can tell she's been avoiding it because there were still mushroom spore pods to harvest! HAH! Mine.

    I was in the middle of checking out the room with the cage doors, Fayt at my side, when I heard really heavy footsteps thumping up the ramp to me. I grabbed Fayt and huddled down with him while a big hairy giant lumbered up, sniffed about, and said something about finding dinner.

    Well, I know better than most that the sense of smell doesn't often lie, to I stepped out, and told him that he would find more here than he could bite off, and to leave, and live.

    Naturally, he didn't listen.

    The fight was on, and Fayt circled around behind him, while I brought lightning down through the ground to flash through the cave (Which is blinding by the way...), and took him on with arrows, then my sword, from the front.

    Apparently being zapped, bitten, shot, and slashed at is a shitty dinner date for a giant, so he fled.

    A hungry giant.

    Fleeing.

    Near a town.

    Uhhhh, yeah. No. I chased his ass down, and a bolt of lightning met his body just as an arrow struck home, and he went down in a charred heap, his club bouncing away to fetch up against the wall, never having gotten to tenderize his redheaded dinner plan.

    Oh well.

    Let's see... the day before that was ... the rescue! That was an entertaining one, and adds a +1 to the list of unsuitable characters that would show an interest in me, following the current trend. Is it a Druid thing? Or do I just radiate that "I'm unattached, proposition me if you're at least 1/2 monster" vibe? Fark.

    A caravaneer was wounded near a dead Gnoll in the road, and thank Mileikki we were able to save him with a little bit of careful removal of the dagger in his guts, and some properly applied healing magics. They'd been ambushed, totally wiped out save for him, and their supplies raided and taken away, despite the Gnolls not getting what they -really- wanted.

    A Woman.

    Of course, dammit. Well, partially since I fit the bill (No not really) and mostly because those insolent whelps needed to be taught that they could keep their hole in the woods, but messing with people on the road means death, I went into their woods with a pretty tough group. Allestro Hollins of Illmater, and Chaevre, currently advisor of Norwick and obvious necromancer (Thought she claims she won't raise her own undead ... which I doubt but hey), and Soyokaze(?), an elven monk of all things were with me.

    With Fayt added to the group, we stormed in there, and found undead Gnolls waiting, and cut them down as we went. It went mostly well til the caves, when we also got our asses handed to us by not one, but two Gynarchs, and a few assorted othes. Allestor and Chaevre are both very powerful, but good at conserving said power, even when it makes for closer-ish calls, apparently.

    We murdered the hell out of the critters, including a male leader, like a Gynarch but more magic inclined as well as physically powerful, a Bauloo. Then we found the demonbinder, and I got his attention away from his ritual with a giant lightning bolt for him and his two closest pals. They share well, it seems.

    A tough fight later, we were packing bodies onto a makeshift cart, which I turned into a dire bear to pull, and off we went, making sure to take a guard shifted rest before we went out, since I predicted that there would be trouble waiting with all the noise we made.

    I was right. I -also- hate the taste of Gnoll, and should remember that for the future. Pulling the cart meant either shifting back every time I had to fight ... OR just mauling the everloving FARK out of whatever was stupid enough not to run from a godsbedamned dire bear.

    Seriously. Yuck.

    The caravaneer paid us generously, and seemed grateful and eager to get going home, to Damara. His name was Thadeus ,and he seemed a nice sort. Sort of average in many ways, except for how well he took the healing process of me ripping a dagger out of him (I DID do it as gently as I could but...), after he managed to kill a farking gnoll, and clearly telling us what we needed to know rather than be a gibbering wailing mess.

    Seriously, brave guy.

    I asked him to pass a message along to any Druids in Damara that he came across, that I'd love for them to visit if at all possible, and bid him farewell. I hope he makes it.

    I got haunted again.

    I was sitting on Heroes bluff, letting my feet just kind of dangle off the edge, and thinking. There's a lot to think about these days. The Dwarves and their fight, the stupid ghost girl thing, the Druid circle, you name it.

    This day, I just wanted some time to sit, and I think I was even about to write, instead of putting it off to, ya know, today, and then I hear the giggle. It's her again. Sorry, "Her" , seeing as how she's literally just a magical illusion.

    I talk to her a little, she makes the same boring threats, and when I called her out on it, she turns into some kind of gigantic pit fiend, climbing up to my portion of the bluff with but a step, and looms over me, anger visible on it, asking if I doubted her power.

    I casually dug into my pack, unfurled a scroll, read it, flicked a hand, and cast a dispel at it's feet.

    The angry half-fiend, half little girl shriek sound it made was hilarious, and thankfully, I haven't heard from her since. Which is nice, because I was still tired from the adventure before that, which made me run from Peltarch, through the pass, straight through the Jiyyd ruins, to end up near Ormpur, just to fight ... ahhh, I'll write it on it's own page!

    The Request.

    Ever since my Underdark trip with Raryldor which can be summed up in a few words... "Drow, running, killing, Raryldor, Ghaunttown ... Artemis", I've felt different. Stronger. Calmer.

    During the trip, as I imposed my will upon a Dire Displacer beast bent on feasting on my fact, I realized I could do -more- with it, from the connection I had with the beast, and even as I turned it on the creatures that were attacking us, joining it in the battle, I realized that I had learned something, which I verified once we got out.

    I learned it's shape!

    So look forward a day or two from there, and I find myself outside the Peltarch walls, setting up a small ritual circle to ask the Gods for guidance, or a boon ... when an orc pops his head over the wall, and instead of shooting me, asks me if I want to mate with him.

    SERIOUSLY?!

    I almost fried him on the spot. First the halforc, then the were-rat, now the orc, too? I can't get a man's interest to save my skin, but the interest of all kinds of monsterly folk? Easy, no problem. Damnit all.

    After convincing him that his life would be better spent -not- being a pile of lightning-induced ash, I beseeched the Gods to help me grow my power, to bond my shape to the creatures of the land, and somebody answered.

    Well, kind of.

    A Malar panther, of all things, crept out of the grass, and dashed by me, and right by a far scout, which didn't even see it go.

    The chase was on!

    Past the city, down the pass, through the crossroads, and past Old Lem we ran. I shifted forms to keep up. I drank a speed potion before that to be faster, but I could barely even keep it in sight, til we hit the scar. It leapt into the water, and I followed, in my dire displacer beast skin.

    We dashed through Jiyyd, despite the challenge scream of some winged demon. We weaved through undead soldiers, each taking down a few we couldn't dodge, and finally encountering a gigantic wolf pack, the creature stopped to fight -everything-, me, the pack, and Fayt, and after it killed every wolf there save for mine, I sank my teeth into it's throat, and got that final death-shake in.

    My feeling that somebody had answered or been watching faded, if I had been watched at all, and a lone wolf cry split the night, a pack leader charging at us to get us out of his territory.

    I hardened my will. I put out my hand. We almost touched, and it stopped just before me, sensing my intent, and calming instantly, despite being even bigger than Fayt, and much stronger than the worgs that filled the area.

    He sat still as I calmed him, blinked as I placed my hand upon his head, and I closed my eyes, taking in the knowledge of him, that same familiar feeling I've had before ... and his shape was mine.

    I sent him on his way, and returned home, wiping out every undead, every succubus-witch, and the demon-spawn that dared to fly down at me, til I was once again seated at the bluff, taking a well deserved rest.

    It's been a long couple days, and if I sit here in the glen much longer, that squirrel is going to tell his friends that I have treats, and I'll get swarmed.

    Time to get up off my ass and do something productive. I wonder what's on the menu today?

    I hope it's not me. And I'd BETTER not get propositioned by another monster! Fark!_


  • Leena writes on the back of a page, realizing she forgot to chronicle an event that transpired, and sets to writing.

    _Dwarves.

    I've never been quite sure what to think of Dwarves, since meeting my first couple. Gemli was a terrible first example, the Druidhating git. Dwin was … interesting. He seemed to have thoughts about me starting trouble, but I suppose there's a reason for that, but this was all in the past, when I first started out on my own.

    Now, things are different.

    Between overhearing some things, asking some direct questions, and being in the right place at the right time, I've befriended the Dwarves of Aura Runedar. Just in time for a threat to emerge, too.

    Apparently, they're having troubles down below, and the long story made short is that some threat is bubbling up from below, and they got forewarning, and now they need to stem the tide, or the surface is in for a bad time. There's literally nothing standing between us an a horde of gibbering Underdark crazies but a handful of faces I know, and a bunch of other dwarves, ready to fight to the deaths, preferably of their enemies.

    I've adventured with several of them, namely Igor and Silver, Ragnar too lately. I know them, and Gnarl, and Beourn, and I think most recently, Disa. I know I'm forgetting some names, now, too. I forgot to write about this til I made mention on the next page, darnit! Anyway...

    They're all nice to me, for some reason, which is really awesome. There are some folk who are really concerned with race, and for the most part, these guys are way more accepting than I've ever heard of Dwarves being. Perhaps the people who talk about being excluding by them have never sat and had an ale with them, or went out of their way to say hi?

    Anyhow, I did some scouting with them, and they remembered, so when they set out to explore the Underdark, I went with them, and we found trouble. Derro had been enslaving Umberhulks ,and using them to tunnel at will. This led to a path leading back to the Great Staircase, which I now know how to find on my own, through the Kuo Toa caves.

    Anyway, long story short ... I was wandering out around Norwick when one came and got me. The attack had come.

    We managed to get Elaine and Shesarai to join our little battle group, and armed, angry Dwarves lined the walls and battlements inside, ready to make life hell for whomever came in, and in they came. Up through the floors of their inner halls, their mines, their forge, they came. A screaming, laughing, cackling army of Derro, and Umberhulks smashing their way to our ranks.

    Man were they in for a surprise. Apparently mostly molten metal, "Slag" they called it, was poured down one of their expected paths, and a key-trap was laid out, exploding the arrogant enemies as they got close to it, then the battle got full pitched.

    I fired arrow after arrow after arrow into their ranks, tossed choking powder bombs ,and lightning with abandon, and even had to go toe to toe with a few that broke through the ranks to my line, til somebody could bail me out.

    It got ugly.

    Stone floors can be slippery enough. Blood soaked floors? Floors strewn with entrails and brains and gore from bodies and heads burst like eggs ... well, you get the idea.

    Add in their casters' grease spells? Well fark.

    Disa went down under a pile of them at one point. We all rushed in, but couldn't get to her, and by the time we had hacked through the press of bodies surrounding her, she was gone, and there was no time to mourn. We fought on.

    We protected her body, and the Dwarves fought somehow even harder than before, as other defenders started to fall, and the tide slowed. Some got in behind us, and got choking powdered and lightninged all at once, before getting hacked to death by furious dwarven steel, and their momentum faltered. More hulks came, and only to get obliterated into a spray of shell and ichor, and finally a retreat sounded, what seemed like days later.

    Shrieking laughter followed them out, as they retreated to their holes ... straight back into the mines, where other Dwarves waited. We followed too, and fought on, no time for rest.

    That's when we heard it. A laugh, and mocking monologueing, as some villain told us how the pain and suffering had only begun, and some git showed up in what I'm told was eastlander garb... and with him, a beholder! I backed up, firing arrows all the way, then honestly? I turned tail and made tracks out of there.

    I'm told it was an undead beholder... however the FARK that works, and that Elaine's magics slid right off of it.

    Well hell.

    Sister said she'd find a new way to kick it's ass, and as for me? I had to go lay down, after Disa made it back to our realm with the permission of her Gods.

    Not the best day, but we survived. For the most part.

    Don't worry guys. I'll try to be there again._

    –--------------------------------------------------------------------------

    _It's been a hell of a day, both good and bad.

    I did some scouting, on behalf of the Dwarves, and found guards in the Grand Staircase of the underdark. Had more trouble than usual being unseen down there too.

    There's hobs and gobs, the hobs having some symbol that looks like a Bloody Maggot on their armor … good armor too! Chainmail and the like. The goblins wore a Black Axe on theirs, and the hobs had greataxes. Some Deron fellow went down there with Igor, I found them on my way back, and I made the whole ugly trek AGAIN, just to show them what I found.

    We killed a bunch, and raised an unholy ruckus that sent a small army after us. Apparently they choke easily, so my mushroom powder bombs slowed them enough to let us get away, thank the Gods.

    Came back to rest up in Norwick, and a dire rat went running by, chased by Timmot, and upon further looking about? A veritable plague of rats came out the side of the building, or maybe under it, from their great hall. We slew them, and an angry were-rat with an unhealthy interest in women came after us.

    Talos got his burnt offering this day, and we warned the Herald of the trouble. Hopefully, it's not a sign of Talonite incursions, or worse.

    At least I found a white stag, just after, and led it to the safety of the Glen. Anybody attacks it in here, the golems will paste them. For now, I'll wait and see if Llyran makes his way here.

    I have a staff to give him!_


  • _Being haunted is one thing.

    Don't get me wrong, being haunted sucks, but while it will make me mad, a little freaked out, and all around anxious, there's one thing that didn't bother me until now.

    The little ghost-bitch, who… I now realize is more likely an illusion since holy water and healing didn't touch her, said that "Things are almost ready for you and your friends!"

    My friends.

    Lady, you can mess with me all you want, but there's two reasons not to mess with my friends.

    1.) I would kill for them. I would tear the throat out of a living, thinking, being for my friends, with my teeth.

    2.) Most of them are way more badass than me ... soooooo... good luck!

    I'm still mildly concerned, though.

    On a happier note? I got some goblin grenades, I'm well stocked on arrows, decent on potions, and things are going ok, for now. Sure there's scary stuff on the horizon, but things are alright.

    I don't dare write about what's really on my mind at the moment, so I'll write the other big piece of good news.

    I'm finally a member of the Circle! Staff and everything.

    I'm going to hunt down Marty and Willow's Llama, and see if they'll join me, and help decide which of us should 'lead' it for now, if anybody ... since the Elders seem busy and for the most part, elsewhere. It took this long just to get their attention and let me in!

    Maybe I'll ... hold a festival, and advertise it as far as Damara, and see if we can attract some new Druid blood around these parts. I'll kick the idea over with the others. For now, I feel like I have a project of my very own, finally. Maybe strengthening the circle will help drive the necromancer out of my damned woods.

    If not, there's always my flying, pointy, backup plans._