• (image by Clint Cearley (painted) and Joshua Munkers (drawn))


    I have decided to chronicle my current happenings, firstly for my own reflection, but also for the edification of others pondering what had become of me.

    I am Movalyn, seventh sired of primarch scholar and archeologist Rashrious. I imagine that many would say that my life of privilege living as the daughter of such a man would be a life worth cleaving unto. I also imagine that some who read this account may see me as some spoiled child for having such a strong desire to leave such a life. But in truth, the constant moralizing and lecturing of my father, with his obtuse adherence to nonsensical arcane traditions, coupled with strong compulsions within me driving me toward a more meaningful life, all acted with great impetus upon me. Upon reaching my one hundred and ninteenth year I could bear life at the manse no longer and took action to leave.

    My Father had given each of his children a scroll of teleportation. His belief was that should we find ourselves in some sort of strife we would be able to use it to escape to the safety of home. My plan was to use the teleportation scroll to travel as far away from the manse as possible. One of the ridiculous prohibitions that my father had embraced was against the magical school of divination. This being the case, I was confident that once I had left he would not use magic to find my new location. This was important to me. One thing my father abhors more than freedom of thought is not having control over his offspring. He would do his best to chastise me and bring me back into submission once he knows that I am gone. For this reason I have decided to travel to a land that is obscure, insignificant, and populated by people who are of no consequence.

    The land of Narfell seemed the ideal destination.

    Mere moments after using the scroll and arriving in the land of Narfell I realized the folly of my decision. After arriving at a crossroads, I followed the directions of a crudely constructed sign south toward the barbaric hamlet of Norwick. There I was greeted by bloated bodies hanging from a set of gallows. It was a fitting welcome, summing up the fears and paranoia of the town's boorish inhabitants.

    I have escaped to a land filled with halfwits, dwarves and imbeciles.

    I feel that maybe it would have been better for me to have simply committed suicide.


    This is my second entry into what I'm sure will become the chronicle of a wasted life. I have done my best to fit in with Norwicks dim minded peasantry. For now I am staying at an inn called "The Grape Vine". It is run by women who formerly were members of a fellowship called the Sisterhood of the Crimson Glove. These women attempted to be great in the land, Promoting power and influence amongst women. But like all dreams in these lands, their goals came to nothing. Now they wait on tables and serve meals to travellers.

    In my attempt to fit in, I even stooped so low as to help a child find chicken eggs in a thicket. Another farmer's spawn I helped by "milking" a cow, a disgusting experience that I hope not to repeat.

    Is this what my life has come to? Am I doomed to become a waiter in some tavern or some dim farmer's wife? I will endeavor to save my destiny from such pathetic ends.


    From time to time I have observed "adventurers" coming through Norwick. I have always looked upon such as utter dullards, and my current observations have done little to dispel that view. I am however intrigued by two things concerning the manner of their life. Firstly, that there seems to be an undeniable vigor in their spirits. Watching them blow in and out of town is like watching ships on an ocean. Some mysterious wind is in their sails that drives them into situations that any thinking person would avoid. But rather than becoming overcome with timidity in the face of obvious peril, they seem energized by it.

    The second thing I have noticed is that if there is any prestige or advancement to be had in these bleak lands it is through "adventuring". I have not seen any other avenue of upward social mobility, and feel I am unlikely to see any in the foreseeable future.

    So, I am considering a "life of adventure". I am not sure if this is a decision born from clarity, or if some of the stupidity of the local population has somehow rubbed off onto me and infected my mind with crass ideas. For this reason I shall give the idea some time, either to flourish into action or to die at the tyrannical hands of reason.


    Today I visited the general goods store and purchased a back pack, along with a bed roll and other "out door supplies". I also have a crossbow, with almost a hundred quarrels. Along with my spell components and staff I feel well equipped to face whatever lies beyond the south gate - the gate which I hear is a portal to perilous lands.

    From what I understand, this "adventuring" business is a reasonably simple affair. One simply ventures out "looking for trouble", blundering into it hopefully with enough power to return home alive with booty and an interesting story to tell.

    Even with the weapons training that is traditional amongst my people, I am not a fighting person by anyone's standards, no matter how low they may be. But my training in the arcane arts renders me far from being powerless.

    Tomorrow shall be the day. I will venture out tomorrow.


    I went down to the south gate today, and promptly returned to the inn. It turns out that one needs to be prepared not only physically but also emotionally. The fear that gripped me showed too well that I had barriers in my mind to overcome before I walk down this path.

    Here I sit in the Grape Vine, surrounded by drunken farmhands, waiters and other lowly people. People who share my current state of cowardice, who are kept safe by individuals with more emotional fortitude that we possess.

    I am convinced that our emotions are a product of our mind. Our experience, coupled with our existing beliefs, react together to create a physical sensation in our bodies. This being the case I have determined to unravel my fears through reason, to defeat them with the application of undeniable truths.

    Many plans and lives come to nothing because they rage against things that cannot be changed. Some things are true and will remain so despite all our efforts and wishful thinking. Even gods cannot change some things. So rather than become the victims of these truths, I will embrace them. I will make them allies in my mind.

    The first truth: I will die. Either as a result of violence, or illness, or through the toll of time, my body will eventually give up my spirit for the last time, and my spirit will not return to it. This is an undeniable truth. But my mind attempts to deny it constantly. It refuses to die. With ever ouce of it's strength my mind and my body rage against this truth. So I will embrace my mortality. I will throw my arms around death as a lover encircles her beloved. For whether I die with status and wealth or in obscurity like a peasant, either way I will be utterly forgotten. The universe will continue on as if I had never existed. My death is as meaningful as my life. I will reckon myself already dead, for in a way I am. It is only my position in time that makes me otherwise.

    Second truth: Upward advancement is purchased with toil. I was oblivious to this truth for many many years. Living a life of privilege, where my advancement was paid for by others, it is only now that I see that if I am to rise above my current existence then effort needs to be applied. And applied in the right place. The farm hand toils, but does not rise above his station in life because his toil is misplaced. Rather than destroy those things in the way of his advancement his sweat purchases the advancement of others. The farm owner becomes wealthy while the worker remains in poverty. The peril beyond the gates of safety, the "monsters" - they stand in between me and my advancement. They must be destroyed if I am to rise.

    Third truth: Power cannot be created or destroyed. It can only change from one form, or from one person to another. Whatever power I need to advance currently resides elsewhere. It is in other people. It is in the hearts of "monsters". It is in knowledge I am yet to attain. Whatever power I have must be used to attain more power. Power must be taken. It won't be given. It won't fall into my lap. And if it must be taken so that I may increase, then it will be lost by others, and they will decrease. Pity and mercy and charity are enemies to this truth.

    I will go through the gates tomorrow.

    • your characters full name: Movalyn
    • your Narfell account name: St Albion

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  • (photoshopped the image a bit. Tried to make it a little less skanky)