A Family Legacy ; Katrien

[minerva]

Kindred Spirit?
*Quickly scribbled words and notes fill a few pages. Most importantly is the following*
There is another... someone who can feel the harmony around us, who can hear the song of the blades of grass, the lyrics of the wind... Finally I have met someone who can understand. Connor advises caution but I must explore this. She invited me for tea...I think I will take her up on that offer.

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[minerva]

Dreams or Illusions?
Once again a trip to the Arcane tower. This time they were at least a bit friendlier. The trip was for your Uncle Connor’s sake, I was there I suppose for support, though I think that was for naught. A test of the skills the tower had set him to learn was why we went; to see if he could do it, and to convince the final grandmaster to aid us. What I saw ... or what I think I saw was almost too horrific to repeat. Only by a hair’s breath did he pass the test. The effect was *blot*.....
ÂI saw you, my child, in infancy, as a young girl, and finally as a woman. I saw you take a blade to me... I saw the Alata, Liyalai, and Lindale... the dragons were there... Navarre, Veldrin... your uncle’s hand maimed... It must have been a nightmare... Connor assures me it was illusion.Â

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[minerva]

Blade in the Dark
Back to those underground caverns once again; this time to aid in the search for a blade. I believe I heard it called the Shadow Blade. The way was marred at every step by Drow. *large pause in the writing* At least these Drow did not seem interested in your Uncle or myself, just stopping the party from reaching some ruined dwarvan city. The battle was well fought, but in the end the plans seemed to be foiled, and some ritual thwarted. It was on the way back ... back to Arabel that I found it.
Near the body of one of the fallen, was a short sword. It seemed to crackle with energy. I carefully picked it up and placed it in my pack. I must try to find out more about it, it seems too fine a weapon to be on just any Drow. Sadly there was no time to examine the corpses near by. Perhaps Lar.....

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[minerva]

Bittersweet

The lights in the house are darkened and Katrien sits quietly on her sitting room couch, a bundle in her arms. Her face is pale from exhaustion and her eyes red with tears as she lovingly gazes down at the dark face of an infant.
The baby’s face is relaxed in sleep and from this vantage one can see how truly unique she is. Her skin is dark like that of her father, but not the same deep obsidian, rather a pleasing dark grey, that shows promise of changing over time. A shock of her mother’s auburn hair frames her elven like features, but it is her eyes that are most startling. Lacking the milky blue eyes of most human infants, Lisse’s eyes are a deep forest green, with just a hint of Drow violet/red at the outer rims of the irises. ÂThis baby also lacks the restless ferocity of her Drow counterparts as she serenely slumbers in her mother’s arms.
A soft rap at the door brings Katrien out of her musing. She gently lays Lisse in the centre of her bed and pads barefoot to the door admit her friend into the empty house. She swings the door open to find a helmed and cloaked figure on the stoop and beckons the figure to enter. The sky outside is unnaturally dark and foreboding. Quickly the figure surveys the shadows for watchers, and slips into the open doorway. Katrien returns to her room, visitor close behind.
She once again gathers the sleeping child in her arms and settles on the sofa to hold her baby, a quiet lullaby slipping effortless from her lips.
The figure watches the scene from her place in the shadow. She clears her throat. “Henri’s message was quite clear that I should come immediately”
Katrien looks up from her song, anguish evident in her features. “You, my friend are one of few I trust.” Tenderly she strokes Lisse’s face. “Not even Lar can I trust with his own daughter. If the council were to find a way to purge him like Veldrin, Lisse would stand no chance.” A small tear slides down her face. “He is not even aware of her birth, which I think may be for the best. Tomorrow I set out to Arabel. Connor and Kobal have asked me to join them in some venture. I cannot take her with me, so my dear friend, as one mother to another I entrust you with her care”

A husky voice returns from the shadows. “I see.” The light metal helmet hides what ever expression the bearer might have. “Katrien, my friend I will do as you ask, but even I might fail to keep her safe. I have little skills in subterfuge and stealth. My strength is with the blade, not the shadows. Will you not at least consider the protection Voltrex has offered?”
Katrien tips her head slightly to the writing desk, motioning with her chin for the top drawer to be opened. The figure removes an armored gauntlet and deftly works the latch to slide open the drawer. Inside on the top of a stack of parchment lay several folded letters. One is addressed to the Speaker of Nature.
The hand removes all the letters and holds them up as in question. Katrien silently nods her head in confirmation. The figure scans the names on the others, nodding approvingly to her before tucking them into a pocket.
Katrien sings softly to her baby and for a time it is only the sounds of her voice that can be heard echoing the empty halls of the house. The song is sweet and lilting, very fey in its nature. It seems to warms the air like spring sunshine and one could imagine the accompaniment of songbirds. The infant stirs slightly in her slumber and tiny fists reach out from the blankets toward her mother. The figure smiles as Katrien feeds the hungry child.
“So I am to present her to the Tower only as a last resort then, if I feel I cannot protect her?” Katrien nods in acknowledgment of her friend’s question, before replying. “I do no want my child raised in the joyless atmosphere I found there. Voltrex was beautiful, but I found the towers quite harsh and unyielding.” She continues. “Jharl will aid you, but more importantly, he has arcane abilities and is touched by the harmony of life. He can sing to her, help her with her gift of sound. The others I named will also assist you should they be needed.”
The figure nods at her words, then almost hesitantly asks “And what of Lar? What am I to tell him should he seek me or the girl?”
Katrien laughs a little. “Lar seek you? He is not aware his daughter is no longer in my womb. To him I am off on another of my grand adventures. He’ll be more dismayed that I had the kitchen dismantled than I am no longer here to warm his bed.”

The figure frowns and asks. “When do you expect to be back from your ... grand adventure...?”
It’s Katrien’s turn to frown as she replies “Connor did not say what we doing; only that it was important. Our last outings have taken us to the Underdark, and I fear it is there we will be returning.”
“Underdark. You hand me your child to protect from the Drow, yet you plunge willing headlong into their tunnels. I don’t understand you Katrien”
Katrien lays the now satisfied child on the bed and proceeds to change her as she answers her friend. “Someday you will, my friend, someday. I would expect you of all people to understand what a world ruled by Bloodstone would be like, given your ... circumstances”
The figure squirms a bit and rises to hand her friend some powdered chalk from the table. “My family is petty and weak; they will rise to whatever banner they feel with benefit them the most. Kensing is a fool, my father and brothers as well.”
No more is mentioned as the two settle into the comfortable rhythm of friendship. At some point in the night they sleep and at the first signs of dawn, Katrien rises and feeds her daughter. She gathers a few things and quietly takes them outside to load them onto Fred’s back. Tucked into the collection of baby items is a small book and wooden flute. Her friend watches from the door, as Katrien grooms and feeds the ox, all the while singing softly to it. The lumbering beast seems to be at ease. Wordlessly Katrien slips back into the house, and gathers her packs and supplies. Amazingly she has altered her dresses so that her form still appears with child.
With a hint of amusement in her voice the friend jokes “Katrien, your skill with needle and thread is amazing, but are you sure that is necessary?” She motions to the dress alterations. Katrien smiles in response. “You know as well as I that men see what they want, and if Connor, Kobal and the others think I am still with child it will avoid any unwelcome questions. It was not that difficult to make with cotton and the new silk padding I discovered. Hopefully we will not be gone long enough for my ruse to be discovered. Connor I think would like to see his niece.”
Katrien gathers the last of her things and extinguishes the hearth. The two friends step into the now bright dawn and Katrien locks the house behind her. She gives a satisfied sigh. “Emily was beginning to harass me for making this place a home instead of a shell of a building. She’ll likely be pleased now that it is mostly empty once more.”
ÂThe two move off down the empty Krandor streets; Katrien with Lisse’ in her arms, and her friend beside her with Fred’s lead. They travel past the Shifters tower and follow the safe paths to FortHope. The pair travel almost wordlessly except for Katrien’s singing. Her melodies safely envelop them, and eventually they reach the great walls surrounding Port Hampshire. Night creeps into the city as they step out onto the docks. Katrien reluctantly hands her daughter into her friend’s arms. ÂTears flow freely down her face.
Her finger part the soft blanket covering the baby’s face as she leans to kiss her daughter’s cheek tenderly. “ E ceela aey Lisse’, illa liystir illa E ceela aeum oilanam. Quilnyaa amecc coon iloanam aey amacc. Lucinda illw Az’atta amilannyir eelam aey illa amacc. Io E wel’an maanyml, Seek the Magic” With that she kisses her friend's cheek and hands her another letter. Shoulders slumped she boards the ship, her face wet and crumpled with anguish.
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[minerva]

Trapped 1

*<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">Firelight flickers around the expansive cavern. In the distance a looming monument can be seen and not far from, a milling of forms. The bodies of Remiel and Reventage lay not far from where they fell at the foot of that great temple structure. Around them, keeping watch and saying prayers are a number of the party members. Katrien sits huddled next to the fire, a warm blanket over her as she writes in a journal.*[/i]

The dark. It is so dark and the air feels like it has not been breathed in thousands of years. Creatures unknown to me walk these jagged tunnels and the climbing. Never before have I climbed so many ropes. My hands are barely protected by my gloves, but it is my body that pays the toll. It feels empty, incomplete without Lisse’s heartbeat in tandem with mine. I carried her for so long she was indeed one with me. What have I done? I may never see the light of day again. I may never see my daughter again. Is this what happened to you Poppa? I told Lisse to seek the magic should I not return. I don’t know why I said that, it just seemed right at the time. Are you somewhere alive, but unable to find your way back to me... to us?
 I feel guilty for not telling Connor and Kobal of Lisse’s birth. Perhaps since we are trapped down here I could tell them, but I think it would add to their worry. In some ways it is good that Lisse’ is not with me. If this place becomes my tomb it will not be hers. She will have a chance at life if mine ends here.
 I look around at the fine company I travel with, and I feel humbled. All I can contribute is my song. My arrows bounce off these creatures like pebbles against a marble statue. Surrounded by fine healers blessed by their gods, my meager skills seem almost trivial, but still I suppose it helps. Connor seems to be in his element as I watch him send forth magic against these creatures. Poppa perhaps I should have studied harder and followed the path of the mage you wanted for me. Stuffy towers and dusty books seem to have more of an appeal now than they did so many years ago. But I suppose my love for old tales; ancient runes and obscure bits of history don’t really count in a mage’s repertoire of weaves.
 My song... *blot on the page* More and more of Mother’s music can I remember now. It grows not only in numbers but in the conviction and strength I can send in my words. Now that I am a mother myself I find my thoughts drifting more and more to her. My only real memories are those that Veldrin stirred that day. I cannot get past the block in my mind that lets the music out but keeps her memory within. Before I left for this tomb I left a piece of Mother’s music with another. I left Jharl a copy of the chant I found in the Legacy. The chant that weakens and, if done with enough skill, kills. I know from my gift that sound is for creation, but part of the process is the return. I cannot be there to protect Lisse’, but maybe in some small measure the chant will. Jharl seems sensible enough to use the power wisely.
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[minerva]

Trapped 2
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">[/i]
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">*Again Katrien is curled under warm blanket and set a bit apart from the group as she writes in her journal by firelight. This time it is not a cavern she sits in, but instead a rough camp has been made in an ancient hall. Hewn stone walls and floors, dusty, dirty and still very dark*[/i]
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">[/i]
The mystery of this place seems unending. Remiel and Reventage have returned to us through the power Plen channels. They said this death was different that ones they had experience in the path. I’m glad I haven’t passed this world enough to have a firm feeling on what it should feel like. They mentioned seeing a city, then of being yanked back to reality. The also mentioned a cold red eye... the eye being the cause of their demise and perhaps what those wards on he hill mean as to a watcher. Before us stood a door, sturdily made and from what Kobal could tell... the passage beyond...ancient. Across that wretched lake was a cave. Plen flew across for a look and returned trembling. If whatever was over there scared the feathers out of Plen you could bet I wasn’t about to agree we head in that direction. Through the doors and down ancient tunnels we went. Almost as if being dragged along by some unseen force.
Is this a prison? We came upon the diary of one who came before us. It told of attempts to escape, of portals and choices. Why was that one here... by accident as us, or placed in this maze? If this was their prison, what crime must they have committed? Would a prison contain an almost magical forest, colonized by strange beasts, and forested in magnificent trees of mahogany and wondrously, yew? The forest and the lake were a welcome break from the stale air and dark rock tunnels. I would have liked to have stayed a bit longer to study the land. It also seemed to put Connor in a pensive mood. I’ve not told him or Kobal about Lisse’ and so far my ruse has worked. I miss her.
Trapped in this place... no apparent way out... and my Ceela and daughter so far away. My heart aches so much when I think about them. I think of all they are missing with each other and how much I am missing with them. It was never my intent to be away so long. I week or two I had thought. Now it is months. My daughter will have changed and grown so much when I get home...If I get home. Was I wrong to place her in the care of friends and not her father? He too is missing a time in her life that can never be revisited. Was I wrong? Or is Lar following cold trails in the dark searching for me since I did not return when I said. Indeed is anyone searching for us?
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[minerva]

Freedom.
The sky, the wind and the warmth of the sun. How much I missed these things. Funny, in the many times I traveled to Orlist Orbinn with Lar I never craved the light and warmth of sunshine. Some of out trips there took months as well. I guess I knew I would return home and I had Ceela with me to keep me warm.Â
Ceela... Lar... How do I face him? How do I explain to Connor... to Kobal...?
I didn’t know we’d be trapped in that maze for months on end. I did it so they would not worry...and now it seems to have backfired on me. Connors’s face was murderous when he discovered my ruse. Thankfully there was no time to talk about it and he avoided me. The entire time we spent in that strange abyss... with the voices... he did not seek me out. He gave me no chance to explain... and I ... well upon our strange arrival in Arabel... I took the first ship I could find to get home.
Henri I dispatched with a note for Jacee. The Captain assures me the trip will take no more than 10 days and we sail directly to Port Hampshire instead of docking in Karthy. Jacee... Lisse’... Please Lucinda let them be safe. She risked much taking my daughter in. I only hope I can repay her in someway for this.
Lisse... how she must have grown... what does she look like ... does she favor Lar or me or is she unique in looks. Does she have the gifts? Part of me hopes that she is blessed by the Tol, but other hopes it has passed her by so that she is safe from the both elves...dark and Voltrex.
What of Voltrex... did Jacee have to go? Do I now have to plead for my daughter back. I hope not . Still if there was trouble I told her to seek aid at the Tower. Seteece and Gloin would help I am sure of it. They could rouse a fighting force from within their guilds to shame a small army if necessary. Jharl... my once apprentice and now friend, I hope he is channeling that natural ability of his into songs for my daughter.
Ten days... by my count we should be in within sight of land by tomorrow. All will be known... tomorrow.

[minerva]

Homecoming

*slowly rocking in a chair, Katrien sings to Lisse’. The room is small and homey, filled with the sounds of family. Jacee is half listening to the song as she works on honing the day’s nicks out of her blade. Jharl is absently composing music to her song on his mandolin while Connor sits in discussion with the master of this house. The feeling is that of fellowship. If you were close enough you would hear*



May Lucinda watch over you today,
May sunlight forever shine upon your face,
May you always be in the path of an angel's flight,
May sweet dreams flow through your mind every night,
May the world come to realize the greatness of your life,
May you overcome obstacles, hardship and strife,
May you wisely learn from all of your mistakes,
May love re-enter your heart in the event that it breaks,
May you never be taken advantage of by anyone,
May you always finish all that you've begun,
May each day find you with a smile,
May your time on the land be spent worthwhile,
May you be blessed to find true happiness within,
May you conquer each loss with a glorious win,
May all of your deepest dreams come true,
May you realize just how much we all care for you.
(Based on the work of Jennilyn)
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[minerva]

*sits carefully on the chair and pulls a beautiful violin and bow. Sits them beside her and takes out a small silver flute. She begins:*

A seemingly straightforward task; find the source of the earth tremors and the unnatural darkening of the sky. ÂThis is what Xora and the Striker of Fear asked of the group of adventures meeting in Arabel on that fateful day. It did not seem too great an undertaking to explore the rumored origins of this disturbance, the area of the Viper’s cave, as this group had been there before on a few occasions.
What happen though was far from straightforward.

*takes up the violin and bow and begins to draw notes. At first they are light and pleasant, friendly and chatting but continue to something deeper, darker an almost rumbling tone*

The first clue that all was not well was the sightings of Black Wizards along the roads to Shadison’s lair. The wizards did not speak, but merely watched the troupe pass by. It spoke of ominous beginnings, as did the continual rumblings of the ground under their feet. ÂBrave they were, or perhaps foolish, to enter a cave with the earth so unstable. Enter they did. The consequence was the floor giving way, dumping them deep with a system of even more caves.

Â* The notes crack as if to sound the earth opening up to swallow the adventures*

No way back ... the passage sealed in the tremors. The adventures were trapped. Was it by fate that this had happened or perhaps...design?

*She pauses, and takes up the flute. The notes are cool and hollow sounding as in echoes of the walls of dark caves. As the note drift to the crowd, she tips the flute away and continues*

Barred from going back, forward they went. Forward and down. ÂFor they found that deeper into the ground was the path they must follow going down in hopes of eventually finding a way back up. Caves that were eerily deserted trembled under their feet. Land slides separated them and exposed veins of wondrous ore.

*Again, up goes the flute and the notes become chattery and strained with hints of discord, still pleasant to the ear, but with undercurrents of strain*

ÂTempers and patience were taxed as they made their way along the dark tunnels. Then a turn of events... One shaft repelled down had its exit in none other than the infamous Underdark. The Underdark may well be a warren of caverns, but it had known exits to the surface. Salvation it seems was found. Nothing is as it seems though.

*lays down the flute and takes the violin and bow again. The music is dark Âand ominous. The notes pacing slowly as winding their way down dark tunnels only to rise in the fever pitch of battle and fall way to begin again.*

The troupe wandered aimlessly along in the Underdark, battling Drow scouting parties and growing weary. ÂThen, the group under siege from Drow, their backs to a deep rift in the earth... a discovery was made. ÂA rope...their rope perhaps? A rope used to descend into dwarven halls and retrieve pieces of the legendary Shadow Artifact not so long ago?Â

It seemed a sign... but, the quakes had rocked the ever-changing Underdark as well. Would the rope still lead to its known destination or elsewhere? Two were sent to investigate while the others held off the onslaught of Drow. Time passed... They did not return... Was the signal to descend missed in the battle or had something foul happened to them? ÂDanger present on both sides: the known Underdark, and the unknown rift with two friends missing.

Â*the notes now turn to that of a climb, careful repelling, hands over hands, hands occasionally offering aid. The notes becoming deeper as the climb goes ever on*

ÂA choice to be made, thus down they climbed. Down in to a seemly ancient cavern. The air cold and stale and, when a hand was reached up, magical barrier...ÂÂ Trapped once more.

*The notes are somber now but still they maintain an air of wonder. Undercurrents of excitement and adventure are mixed with strands of uncertainty*

ÂNow one might think that a predicament such as this would zap the morale of band of travelers. A simple task at the start had turned to a monumental one.
They were trapped in ancient caverns with no idea how to get out. Yes, it would drain the spirits of most, but this group was not most. ÂAmong them were some of Layonara’s most seasoned adventures and, truth be told, the mystery of the caverns far outpaced the worries of impending doom. It was a good thing too, since impending doom seemed to lurk around corners in this place.

Â*Once more the tune turns to that of exploration, rising and falling in chords of seeming chaos only to even into melodies of fellowship and trust.*

ÂThere were strange murderous creatures and powerful elementals to battle, frightfully narrow and treacherous passed to traverse. Strange sights as well. A magic portal was found. Those gifted in the ways of the weave determined that it lead not out...., but IN to this mysterious place.Â

* Notes dark and heavy fill the air, the tempo that of a creeping doom. A dark undercurrent ripples as they spill from the violin as she plays and continues*Â

Their explorations at last lead them to deep cavern cut in half by a black lake. Fed from a glistening waterfall high in the wall, a deep crevasse had formed into a lake. ÂStructures made by hands, not nature were present. A bridge, old and broken spanned the gorge. On the other side pillars inscribed with odd runes an emanating ancient weaves of divination. ÂA steep descent led to the valley floor and remains of temple; a temple so radiating evil that single glance upon its stones kills. ÂÂAcross the black lake, veiled in mist a cave also warded with rune stones and home to a malevolent presence. Carved into the wall and placed by dwarven hands stood a massive door. A door warded heavily, but by whom?
Again a choice: known evil in the cave or the unknown behind the doors. Our party of friends cleared the many locks and traps that ventured once again into the unknown.

*the feeling of doom eases as the melody becomes almost magnetic, inviting you forward, teasing you to follow along as is lead by an invisible string. Punctuated within the harmonies are the small mechanical sounds of mechanisms released and a hint of both uncertainty and tiny eddies of discord*

Drawn by an inexplicable force they pressed forward and ever downward. The way marred by traps until they were faced with a towering obelisk ringed with kneeling statues, statues that had once been alive. The alien object radiated weaves of teleportation to those who could sense such things. Not only were our travelers trapped, but also the restless souls of shadows patrolled the halls. One such shadow was found trapped in the facets and heart of a brilliant diamond.
ÂThe diamond was found paired with a book in crumbling sarcophagus. The book spoke of many things, forests and rivers, trials and failures and of hope. Many things to ponder as the band wound their way through narrow halls to emerge into nature.

* Again, she takes up the flute. The sounds of nature spring forth, wind rustling leaves, water dancing merrily over pebbles in a stream. The warm as spring sunshine after a cold winter, the mood light and airy but with still the background of weariness lifted somewhat. Letting the notes drift away, the tale begins anew*

Nature preserved an ungodly distance below the surface. Devoid of sunlight and crowned in a magical sky, a forest appeared out of rock. A forest that time had somehow forgotten. Or had it?Â
After months of dark halls, even magical sunshine seemed a blessing. Foraging through the forest yielded encounters with yet more inexplicable beasts and plants and the discovery of a ruined tower reaching into an opening in the rocks.ÂThe tower proved to be a means of escape form this paradise lost, for however beautiful it was, it was the not the warmth of home and hearth than months underground had them craving for. A climb up this time instead of down, a step in a new direction and a step into yet another set of choices.

Â*She tips the flute up and this time the notes spring forth spritely. The seem to march forward as if seeking, and then abruptly pull back on themselves only to begin again. The pattern repeats several times in slightly different variations and as it goes forth you begin to sense a current of frustration. Now and then small spikes of satisfaction interweave within the notes, as do chords of chaos and discontent. Finally the melody builds to a sense of wonder, then it gathers it strands and unites, turning to a conclusion*

ÂWarrens of tunnels ending in lights: the decisions of which to take and which to leave. The leadership and cement of the groups sorely taxed, yet somehow they managed. They managed to solve the riddle if the lights and step into the proper one for it was that light that would lead them forward. Forward to more traps, forward to more tests. The puzzles it seemed were designed to test not only the mental capabilities, but the resolve and fellowship of the group as well. And riddle and puzzle they passed. The passed the halls of levers that had them hoarse with shouting and nerves frayed to very core. The passed the web of tiles which depleted their linguistics skills. Onward to a block of cells where the fate of all could be decided by one. Each leaving that hall with the foreboding sense that they had very near missed disaster. Their captors proved to have a twisted sense of humor as they shivered through the last of the tasks, and once complete they knew.
They passed into architecture glorious in its design and stunning to eye.Â
Monuments seemingly as old as time itself greeted them as they walked those final steps toward the light; the light that would reward them or forsake them: the light that would pull them forward or send them back to be trialed again.
In unison they walked. In unison they were graded.

* The violin comes up and the music is that of awe and wonder. If seems to ripple with life on the edge of spilling forth, but somehow contained. As the progress, whispers of unknown creep in as voices in the background, voices straining to be heard. The harmonies then twist to something foreboding , as the energy of a storm contained , the underlying voices now stronger in this place in the composition, then once more the harmonies turn back, but anew in sense .*

In a crackle of time and weave they were whisked away; away to an alien landscape, an alien city. They had passed, but into what?
The city stood empty beneath an eerie black sky. Monuments to unknown gods lined the approach to its core. It seems at any moment time might let go its hold and inhabitants would spring forth to fill the market square, or bustle from the doorways of the many homes. The landscape and buildings were bizarre, but yet strangely familiar too. A close examination revealed why. ÂÂThe eastern edge of the city was flanked by blood red waters and shadows whirled and writhed in the air. All around they whispered, called, cried and shouted. Voices tormented and taught those that walked close to the edge of this void. Standing at the edge one could clearly tell. This land, the ground and rock beneath their feet was the same as that which formed the Dragon Isles. Two lands that once were one. This very coast appeared to have been torn asunder from the lush islands ripe with danger so many leagues above them. But why?Â

That answer lay in prestigious halls high on hill overlooking the city. The marble foyer was a source of architectural awe, as the designs of many races could be distinguished lining it opulent walls. Ahead was a chamber with a most unusual steward. ÂAt the base of a throne stood a shadowy figure and to its right a crystal skull that seemed to float in mid air. The fellowship stood at the foot of the dais and asked the questions why? Only the sounds of the shadows could be heard to reply. Fortunately they could be heard, for within the group were two who communed with that at the edge of light. An ancient councilor found. Ancient one cursed. Questions asked and questions answered, a new quest given and accepted.

*Dark and foreboding the tune begins again. The notes twisting in the discord of evil, rising and falling as to punctuate a tremendous battle and then settling down to calm again *

The group set forth once again this time to face that unnamed malevolence that they rightly avoided early on in their trek. ÂThe loathsome presence was smited, a ritual unbound and perhaps even ascension to the heavens thwarted, but most importantly a promise kept. Once more to the dais the party went this time to speak in council. Names were given, information received and most of all knowledge was gained.

Â*setting down her instrument she again picks up the flute and plays. The undercurrents of voices mingle and call almost to the point of becoming whole. The harmonies intertwine and weave a tune of knowledge and discovery, and then the harmonies become light and airy as once more the sounds of nature creep in. Distant are the voices, as the melodies of birds and trees supplant them. Distant but also distinct, they fade and leave the air, the harmony dropping off to one of accomplishment.*

The sundered lands revisited so the shadows could tell their tales. Ancient words and phrases were whispered to all until they could be understood. Once the lands sundered transferred their secrets, our weary family was freed to leave. Weaves of teleportation added them as they were once again able to see the sun and feel the warmth of its rays and breathe air not dank with age and stillness. Here this tale ends, but an ending it is not. It is but a beginning. For much is to come of what the councilor told them. Much that has already begun.
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[minerva]

Of War
There is so much to write about and so little time in which to do it. Lisse’ grows by the day Poppa. It pains me you cannot see it. The comforts of home and hearth are ours yet they hang on a fragile thread. War, while nothing new to this land, has been thrust in to out face. No where is safe. Bloodstone’s minions are on the move. His mages command the very seas and the creatures with them. He has intentions on the Dragon Isles. The unsundered of the sundered lands, they must not fall to him. The home of the cradle cannot be overrun with demons. <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">The home of Sound and Light and Shadow must be preserved.[/b] Twice I have answered the call to save them. The first was a fierce battle at sea. Ships of unnatural demons, dead that walked and murderous constructs awaited our swords and spells. That day we persevered, but not before allowing an attack and perhaps scouting expedition to occur on the island, but it was not overcome.
The second more ominous, was at the direction of the Shifter. He gave us visions of the possible paths that lay before us: oppression, freedom, destruction, or far worse of all apathy. He gave directions to our own salvation. Return the necklace of souls to him. Recover it from the void where Moraken followed Xandrial in its pursuit. What ritual he requires this for I know not, but it seems the key to having his aid. He spoke in the language of the shadows so it is my belief as well as others that he too is sprung from those Ancients. He warned of the Sinthar’s fleet and their designs on Roldem. His vision was undefined as to time and intent which caused much disruption in those gathered. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">*large blot of ink*[/i] Fools. They were under the guise the Shifter was being benevolent with his prophecies for Roldem. Why should one such as him wish to tell of this impending doom? He was surely wise enough to know we could not hope to stop a fleet the size of Blood’s. No... there was a more pressing reason...a soul. The soul we had discovered trapped where the Broken One had fallen. The soul tied somehow to that place in Roldem’s kingdom. The Shifter sought to draw our attention to that soul and preserve it before Bloodstone or Xandrial could claim it. Roldem may have its strategic placement as a base for war on Mistone, Dregar and those precious Islands, but invasion as well could cover the intent of gathering the soul to his purpose. Much time was wasted in altruistic discussion but finally Connor was able to bring about some sense. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">(Small sketch in the margin of an elf dressed in red and a club). [/i]ÂWith Rhizome’s aid we were able to make a hasty journey to where we had last seen the soul. Blood’s minions were close at hand, but thankfully it answered to the shadow tongue and agreed to come with us. The shadow artifacts Lue carried supplied the proper vessel for which to transport the soul. It was with little time to spare we made it back to Dregar, again grateful for the help of the trees and their protector.

[minerva]

<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Family[/b]
Lisse how you grow and how time seems to have flown. Chubby hands and feet that used to flail and punch the air now run about and grab hold all they can find. Two years. It hardly seems a day at times and an eternity at others. Your presence is a smile in our lives. Your have served to soften the edges of that crusty fool Jacee. I see her smiling more than not now, her training set aside to aid Ellen and her husband as well as care for you when I am away. Your presence in the guild hall is always and adventure as I never know what you will be into next as I see to supplies and manage the accounts. It warms my heart to hear the tingle of the chimes Jharl made for you. Your affinity with music is astounding, but then I’ve no recollection of my childhood and no other musical children to compare you with. The short visits your father makes warm my heart as well. It seems time has allowed the fires to cool, but I made my vows and I am true to them in both my heart and actions. His stories amuse you as they ever do me and the presence of the both his and your warmth next to me at night fills my heart until his next visit. He tells me not where he has been and I do not press. You two are my Ceelala. Connor I see less and less of as my business grows .I know he is there by the bareness of my pantry. Keeping pies and cakes around the house is a never ending task. One I happily accept. It is a fair trade for the elven lessons he shares with you and I might add myself when I can spare the time. Lar chuckles at the fact I could learn the Drow tongue with ease but stumble over elven which is so very alike. Perhaps I try to hard. The syllables flow of my tongue like notes to a long forgotten song. There, but not quite there, as if the memory needs to find just that last link to fall into place. Daily I check Poppa’s journal, my journal and I guess yours now too Lisse’. The pages remain as they were. No new melodies since mother’s lullabies graced the pages. No prophetic words of wisdom from which to chart our future. It pains me at times to look at you and know that I have spent with you half of the time I was allowed to spend with my mother. I wonder if she knew. And now, seeing and experiencing the world as I have I wonder if all I have been told is correct. I’ve lost touch with the happenings in Drake. I’ve not inquired after my uncle and his family in years. Perhaps I will have to do so soon. You should get to know your family Lisse’ and maybe I should get to know them better as well.

[minerva]

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