3. [color=darkred:a772d26cb4]Arriving to Narfell was not as easy as I expected. When I scaped my hom...

[color=darkred:a772d26cb4]Arriving to Narfell was not as easy as I expected. When I scaped my hom...

  • G

    Arriving to Narfell was not as easy as I expected. When I scaped my home I was chased. It was only a few minutes until I noticed. I remember because I could smell the scent of the demons behind me. I could tell, they were not after me, but after what I was carrying inside the cloth bundle…
    I had to drop my horse, a horse that had been with me for years. It was the last living thing that could bring me back memories of my people... but it was not about me or my memories. There was a higher purpose. I had to full-fill my role.
    I tied the bundle to my chest with a piece of rope, then went on my four. My bones cracked, I smiled, it was such a pleasant feeling once you embraced it...

    As a dog, I could smell the demon even more clearly. I howled, long and loud. They already knew where I was, all there was left for me was to run. And I ran.

  • G

    No entries have been written as of late in this small leather-covers diary. The have been attempts, whoever, or so it indicates the different shaped fingerprints in it and some ink dots in the first blank page.
    The transformations became more constant, more willingly, and at the same time more uncontrolled. The will to shift was there, to change bodies, but at first it was hard to control when, or for how long, and later also to what. At one point, shifting became unstable and his body would take the form of different creatures almost every minute.
    It was not the physical pain what would be a bother, but the mental one. Exhausting to try to keep it under controll, to be able to try and tell which of them are you, when you're actually all of them.
    Each shape his body transformed into, was like a different laberynth which exit was the finding of his true self, his soul.

    And that, that is why the diary had not been written in for so many weeks.

  • G

    Soon as I entered the forest south of the big city I could hear a scream. Someone had certainly been wounded with mortal injuries. I didn't think about it, I just shifted into a wolf to be able to get there in time, to be able to follow the scent of the blood that would certainly bring me to the dying person. And there they were, two running from the orcs and worgs, and one on the ground, stretching its arm as if to reach somebody for help. I ran past it them all, darting towards the bleeding one. It looked about to breathe its last breath… but because the orcs were too busy shooting at the other two I could make it in time next to it and shift into a human so I could cast a small healing spell on it. Was brought back to live that way. It moved out of harms way.
    In the end we managed to defeat those that were attacking still and then retreated the border of the forests.

    They wished to strike the orc cave, in vengeance perhaps, or simply for ''adventuring''. Didn't feel wise, but I also didn't want to leave them to their luck.
    As we went deeper into the cave things became more complicated than they anticipated. Things went really messy, and suddenly we find ourselves surrounded and hard-pressed. One of us was bleeding so much it looked almost like a bath. It wouldn't hold much longer.
    I remember wishing I could become something bigger and larger,
    I rembember feeling the need to press my body to shift into something huge enough that would splat those orcs and save the day. My mind pictured unconsciously a dragon, for that was without doubt the largest creature I know of. My mind pictured a dragon stomping on the orcs, but a sudden realization shattered that image. I would not make myself a dragon, ''at best I could be a tiny wyrmling'' I thought. And it was then, when I pictured the small wyrmling that I felt like my stomach was burning. I opened my mouth and a cloud of acid emanated from it as my body begun to take a different form. I could see everything clearer, I could not feel my feet touching the ground, and the boiling acid inside my belly didn't hurt anymore...

    The orcs that were touched by this acid melted away and only their skin was half melted because of the corrosion. They started to panic and we all took the chance to flee to safety.
    Once outside the cave I felt much more comfortable, I seemed to enjoy the feeling of freedom and spread wings. I totally forgot about the other two's presence and took flight....

  • G

    This is good. I've finally understood how to become an animal without losing myself in it. I've been able to walk around as a wolf in the woods without getting feral. I've hunted, I've seen and tasted blood and still managed to keep myself from attacking people. But it's true that I still retain the instincts and I prefer different things whilst in this form than in my human form.

    My body is meaningless, i'm still myself when I shift. I need to remember this always, so that I can understand myself completely.

    I might try to adopt another different shape, perhaps a bigger animal, perhaps the shape of a bear. Or perhaps just something completely different…

  • G

    It was taking a walk, but not a random one. It had chosen a place where it knew at some point it would cross paths with a humanoid. Not too close to the city or the farms, just in case.
    It had chosen so, before shifting, in case it'd lose control.
    The wolf assumed that, was it to cross paths by the woodland pass west of the city, it'd be with people that could not easily be slaughtered by a wolf like him.

    Wolf walked around for a while, and the more time it spent in the form the more it got into him. Soon it had already let itself embrace by its nature and started stalking a badger for food.
    It was then that it smelled something that distracted it from the badger hunt. The smell of dead beasts and of a person.
    It howled, growled in excitement of a better prey to hunt.
    It waited crouching at the grass, moving as stealthily as it could, awaiting for its prey.
    It didn't take long until Moody the bardress archer showed up, with the armor all soaked in worgs and orc's blood, the smell of it only made Wolf even more eager to hunt, and its look became more feral.
    When Moody walked past, Wolf stepped out of the grass, growling at her and showing its teeth. Moody jumped back and shot the animal, wounding it. It jumped back at her, baring its teeth against her.
    For some reason though, the wolf suddenly stopped the assault and stepped back a bit. It looked tense, ready to jump at Moody again. The agressivity in its eyes was evident, but it looked as if struggling, unable to decide and take action.
    Wolf was fighting against his instincts, was trying hard not to attack again, not to let itself get lost in the current body.
    It forced itself to remember what happened the last time, it forced the image of the terrified man in its mind.
    It tensed more, growled, barked… and Moody dropped some berries on the ground to feed it. The wolf only glanced at the berries briefly, uninterested in them, but something about that behaviour awakened its human self inside of it. Wolf looked away, forced itsslf toa look somewhere else and focus on something else... and ran.

    It wasn't perfect, but it was improvement.

  • G

    I've finally realised what is what happened to me. The things that I've seen and heard make sense now. I found wolf's fur hair around the place I woke up, even some in my armor. Is not the same colour or type as the wolves around these parts though. That was an important hint.
    Then as I was in the town, I overheard the conversation of an adventurer that had been attacked by a larger than usual wolf and how the adventurer managed to shoot its leg. It was only then things started make sense in my mind, and clear images begun to take the place of the blurry memories as my hand subconsciously reached for the wounded leg.
    I saw my Wolf me in the forest, I saw what happened, or rather remembered it.
    I hurried myself out of town upon learning of this, altered.

    I need to find a way to control my Wolf me. I need to be able to look and feel past my body and get ahold of my soul's consciousness.

  • G

    The wolf had been running for several minutes, without control. As someone with panic would have. Didn't look back, didn't look to the sides and wasn't aware of its surroundings.
    It was trying to get away from something, but not even the Wolf knew from what.

    Eventually, the wolf got tired of running, and heavily breathing managed to get near a large tree, where it took some rest. The imagines begun to appear again in its mind, and as they did, the wolf gained consciousness of what it almost did. The wolf was furious, but this time with itself. It didn't exactly know why, didn't exactly know what was wrong.

    The wolf bumped its head against the tree several times, howled loudly for hours, like a whinning pup… until it fell unconscious out of pure exhaustment...

  • G

    Wolf viciously mauled the face of the goblin. Fed on it, and viciously ripped the meat appart from the skull. When it felt satisfied, the wolf put its paws on the goblin's chest and stiffed its head, howling loudly. Shortly after that, it left the cave running.

    The wolf was exalted, running around the lake and jumping on the terrified goblins that had the bad luck to cross its path. He kept running past the undead, and then turned left, other wolves to be found. That seemed to soothe him and he approached them reluctantly. The other wolves did not mind Wolf, and let him stay around them.

    For days, he'd hunt goblins and badgers with the other wolves, play with the other wolves and become one of the other wolves. He had only instinct to guide him, and he was unaware of his other bodies, or his true soul. He was lost in Wolf, and days passed without it realizing it.

    On the last couple of days, it even begun to feel bothered by humans or adventurers that hunted in the woods and roamed the place. At first Wolf would avoid them like the plague, hide and run from them. But that one time… was different.

    The scent of blood reached him, fresh blood, meat, food. Followed it all the way to a bleeding archer that had barely survived from a goblin ambush and was heading towards the gate. The wolf rushed towards the man howling, and he turned around limping. The man's face showed fear, and out of instinct reached for an arrow and shot the wolf. Had had not enough time to aim, so the arrow hit on the leg, but the wolf reached him shortly after and jumped on him, pushing the man on its back.

    The look on the wolves face was feral, baring its teeth towards the man, the drool falling on the archer's face as he tried helplessly to cover his face from the imminent goodbye. The Wolf was ready to end with the life of the prey, but luck or destiny had it that it saw itself reflected in the eyes of the victim. It saw its wolf's teeth, its wolf's raging eyes, but it could not see itself in those eyes....

    The wolf then looked at the man he was about to kill, the wolf felt terrified about what he was about to do, and ran towards the forest, not looking back, not daring to awcknowledge what he almost did.

  • G

    This is strange, according to my diary it has been a week since the last entry, but I do not remember the days that happened inbetween. The last thing I remember is following the goblin, chasing it until its lair, all the dead animals, the smell of decay…

    And then, the next thing I remember is being under a tree, with a wound on my leg and with the feeling of not knowing where I was.
    What happened in these 7 days? How did I get wounded?
    I've treated quickly my wound, but it definitely looked like an arrow wound.

    I'm going to get a proper meal, and meditate on this. Perhaps meditation will help. I'll become one of my many me, urge myself to peer into my inner-self to discover myself even beyond my current body's memories.

  • G

    The Rat easily could sneak around unnoticed. Fitting even in the smallest holes and under the smallest fallen branches of trees.
    The Rat followed the goblin cautiosly around the lake. Couldn't understand what the goblin was saying, but something about it made the Rat uneasy.
    The way it talked, when there was no one else around, the way his eyes stared nowhere as he walked…

    The Rat had not been following him for too long when the Goblin decided to get into a cave north of the lake. The cave smelled putrid, to dead animals and awful magic. The rat observed and followed the goblin past a stone bridge and past a door.
    Once inside, the rat could see the whole picture:

    Dead animals everywhere, badgers, birds, racoons. Guts spilled everywhere, too, rivers of blood flowing through the cracks on the ground. In the middle of the room a couldrun, from which bubbles of dark green colour emerged, floating in the air briefly before popping, leaving behind a weird stench of decay and death.

    The Rat was not only disgusted by the image, it was genuinely furious.
    As Rat, he could hardly engage on a goblin, but...

    The Rat positioned itself behind a rock, the rage was boiling inside its body and it could feel the body beginning to shift again. It was getting bigger, larger, and soon the new form was adquired. A form that it had never felt before. The goblin didn't see it coming, he was too busy mumbling and eviscerating an animal's corpse. A strong pair of paws pushed him down to the ground, and the goblin got mauled by the neck. A wolf with sharp teeth was on top of him, and he could do nothing but stare at it terrified while life faded away from his body.

    Nature bites back. And now there was someone to make sure of that.

  • G

    The smell of blood was fresh, there was no mistake, it was a slaughter of deers. Someone had been hunting the local deers, but in a way that showed it was only for fun. The deer had been killed, but no meat was taken from them to eat, no skin had been tanned to protect from the cold. The only thing that had been done to them was to extract an eye from the face. Probably as a trophy, or perhaps for some wicked anti-natural ritual. Next to each deer, a small goblinoid set of footsteps poorly covered.

    He concentrated, extended his arms and thought of a hawk. First his arms' hair became feathers, then his arms turned into wings. His hole body slowly shifted and shrinked until he became a hawk. He picked up towards the sky, surveying the surroundings. He wasn't a fool, he needed to first find the prey, then study it, then eliminate. That's how a hunter behaves, that's how he behaved.

    After a short time, he spotted from the sky a lonely goblin roaming the woods around the lake in the rawlins. It had a knife in its hand and a strange collar hanging from his neck.
    The hawk flew closer, keeping a distance to avoid detection. Upon getting closer the hawk noticed the type of collar it was. It was made with the eyes of the hunted deer. It was that goblin, he was the offender, and now he was the prey.

    Slowly the hawk's bones begun to crack, it became rounder, with fur and short paws, with a thin tail behind. As a rat, rat would have an easier time studying the prey…

  • G

    When I got to Peltarch I knew the only thing that I should not forget was… not to trust anyone. I was a bit lost, I had never been in a big city and many things looked strange to me. Even people looked strange to me.

    I've already given different names to different people. But if I'm to live in this region I need to keep track of the names I give. Because even if name's are not important when you are one of us, it's important that each person you are at each different moments retains that name.
    It sounds stupid, but consistency has a place in all this.

    To the Innkeeper at the commons - Henry
    To the Temple of the Lighthouse people - Josh
    To the Vendors in the Market place - Lorras
    To the Exotic good's shop owner - Resh.
    Ewambolas - Hahn

    I'll update this as things go.

    On another note, I need a place to hide this. I've explored some of the land, went as far as the south, Norwick. There's a large forest there, might enjoy it more than this stone-place. Certainly will feel a bit more like home, even if I do not have a home anymore.

  • G

    Jeff, that's the name. Except for the horse vendor, for him I'm Kert. But I'm also Strich for the innkeeper in Middle-road. I believe I was Sheck for the fisher that carried me over the river with the boat. Leaf was my favourite so far, that's the one I gave to the young woman that took me in her house after finding me in the mud, in the middle of the mountain.

    When we are born, in my clan, we're given no name. The reason for this is that in time, we don't have a real face. At least not just one. And so the name becomes irrelevant and more of a hinderance than anything. It doesn't allow us to embrace our true selves in the same way as if we were attached to a concrete name.

    In any case, that people would never see me again, not if things were going according to plan. So telling them whatever name crossed my mind first was not a problem. How would it be once I arrived to Narfell? That'd be entirely a different thing.

    I remember the night I sailed towards Peltarch from the other side of the lake. It had never rained that hard in front of my eyes, and the thundering sound from the sky would've terrified more than one. But me? Not me, I had lost my fear to death long time ago, I slept like a baby that night.