Acacea Spider-Slaying, Bread-Tasting, Chasm-Jumping, Rat-Wrestling Thistletongue's Journal

[Acacea]

Dread seeps into her from the ground as it shakes with the noise of approaching drums, but she cannot turn away from the horror of the cross in front of her, of the figure writhing feebly on it. His motions only cause the barbed chains around him to bite into his flesh and bleed him, but the rats feeding on his body do not allow him the luxury of stillness. He seems to reach for her, pleadingly, causing himself only more torment with the futile gesture.

She takes a few slow, shaky steps backwards, oblivious to the horn that sounds through the air--close, so close. Her foot finds something squishy instead of solid ground, and she tumbles back and away from a grasping arm in a pile of moaning bodies. She tries to scramble to her feet, but finds herself caught by flailing limbs and dizzied by her own spinning head. The thundering of thousands of feet and the beating drums announcing them surrounds her as a horde of nightmarish creatures pours over the mountain, gnashing teeth and beating wings. They swarm towards her and she tries to move away in a panic, knowing time has run out for her and that if she wakes, it will be on a cross of her own. Then, "time" for her, as for the others, will be nothing but an endless stretch of suffering.

As she slips backwards, her frantic gaze finds a single star piercing through the haze covering the dim night sky. Her dark eyes lock onto it and she climbs to her feet slowly even as demons stampede around her, as if it is her single chance of rescue. Elation fills her, and hope; a shining plea in a mob of ugliness.

She reaches for it, and then the light winks out and they are upon her.

[Acacea]

Oh gods! I slept for near a whole night through finally, which really opens up a brand new day when you crawl out of bed. I think maybe I was getting awful used to being a zombie so when my limbs started working properly again, it came as something of a shock!

I mean, the last time I woke up after that much sleep, I was in the temple of Deliar and had no idea how I'd ended up there. I wandered about the place in a blue robe, for ale's sake! And all the chatter really aggravated the fat dwarf who was swinging a pick at my skull, at the time...It was just not a good morning, especially when someone mentioned "whiskey" for one reason or another and it triggered some sort of horrible memory of what you should not mix with whiskey, and I promptly was sick on the floor and had people fussing over me while others cleaned it up.

Of course, I felt a tiny bit better after that and asked if they had any pie, and oh man, DID they! Someone came out with like seventeen different flavors, I swear! I didn't know that many kinds of pie existed; where have they been all my life? I am not sure why everyone was being so nice to me, but it was a little bit creepy. I even found the clothes I'd changed out of, all nice and washed and everything. Some kind of temple service I didn't know about? I hope they don't charge me. At least I wasn't in Spellgard; if somebody washed my clothes there, the Potentiates would probably steal pieces of them and auction them off, and then I'd be chased by a fanatical mob in nothing but a scarf or something!

Oh right! Anyway! This time it was great finally waking up to something other than my face hitting the floor next to the bed; that happens entirely too often, of late. We gave the Soul Mother a good kick in the pants and really it's just hard not to be in a good mood after something like that! Even if she did call us a bunch of whiners and then got away after that.

Plenarius is just a tiny bit of a downer sometimes, what with the "there's so much left to do," and the "everyone is relying on me," and the "we're all going to die." Oh, er, he didn't really say that last one, that was just my thoughtful addition. Just here to help, and all! But anyway, he really needs to participate in more fun things in between worrying about lives hanging in the balance and all that. Unfortunately I suspect his worry stems from not being able to roll down hills due to having feathered appendages sticking out of his back. Such is the life of a Werechicken.

It was a little touch and go there for awhile...well no, it wasn't touching and going, more like banging and standing, because we were standing around and I was beating my head against a post, but still! It is really very aggravating to know something 100% and have no one pay you any mind, especially if it is someone you care a great deal for. Acacea wait at home, Acacea guard Hlint, Acacea can come if she juggles but does not attempt to help in any way. I would like to say that everyone finally listened to me and realized I was right, but instead it was a little shouty for a bit and Plenarius finally suggested that Athus pray for guidance, which he did. And lo, guidance came in the form of a nut gashing him on the cheek and making a puddle shaped like a tear. Right. Well, I know, it was a little thin, but he was willing to take that as a sign, and since I was about ready to knock him out and DRAG him to Willow's Weep, it was a pretty good thing. So thank Aeridin, I guess. Woe! Such is the life of a halfling. Hah.

Athus saved the day once there, naturally, and it was made possible by what happened at the Mount--I am sure that it is still rather hard to deal with, the finding of your mother there, but now she is away from it and at least that part of it is over! I still can't even get him to take a sip of wine or anything, shame really...grape juice indeed!

Eldárwen said that she heard me call then, that I needed the Weave and she sent it to me, so she and Lucinda were there like I thought before. Hah! Everybody loves Acacea. Or maybe they just wanted to save the world. I'm not sure which is more important, so it's probably a good thing both were in need. Now she is going to sponsor me in the Rites, even though I cannot be Affirmed...which really is not completely fair! I know why they do not train bards and the like, but all the same. If the "family" all shares a joy in magic for the love of it, why not Acacea? That's okay, though. Triba is making my dress, too, and I have no idea what she's going to do so it could be kinda funny. I've been talking to her a lot lately and that's pretty good since it's nice to have some sanity around!

I'm not sure why people laugh when I call it sanity, I can't very well help it if we're the only ones making sense!

Lastly, and possibly most wonderfully neat, Acacea Has Flown. Hurray! Thanks to Plenarius forever! I just need to figure out something funny to do for him, since apparently he isn't that cheerful when he's drunk. Plan B!

[Acacea]

Well, more blissful nights/afternoons of sleep have gone by, and also I have another place to stay! Hurray for Acacea! And for Cole, in whose room my pillow-corner is located. Hurray for pillows! It's thoughtfully right next to both the door and the chest containing the liquor and blankets. Hah! Although, I have given up whiskey completely because I think I might have scoured away my liver at some point, and possibly woke up with half of my brain missing and in someone else's room.

I have gone in and out of the Arms several times with no demons popping up to smite me, which is a very good thing since Xandrial's mistress crashing the "Celebration of Heroes" was something of a downer! We decided that she was surely no ordinary succubus since she killed most of us just by breezing through, sort of like an old dwarf on a bad diet. We're pretty sure that she was all narky about him moving back to the Abyss and leaving her with the kids, and got wind of us celebrating his departure and well, you know the rest! I mean I do. Because I was there, kissing the cobblestone shortly after turning my head to look at her. Ah well...

I did a lot of the chasing after Cole once she'd left, because he showed up kinda late and apparently was rather envious of the whole dying bit, since that's pretty much all we accomplished by facing her and he wanted to repeat the event. I mean, I know how it feels to be frustrated that you were not there or cannot help with something, but I'm just not too keen on having the life suddenly ripped from my body without so much as a "how do you do," you know? It's just a tiny bit invasive and she didn't even have the decency to buy me dinner, first. Honestly...succubi. They just don't know the protocol!

Although, I guess they kind of don't really need it either, being...well...succubi, and all. Talk about someone who knows they are quite literally heart stoppingly attractive. I guess that is just their area of expertise? Or is it the nymphs'? I do not know, but I really should ask since one of each visited the Arms that night, both apparently bent on snatching away our patrons! First they all get killed or scared away, then the remaining ones end up being treehuggers who are all whisked away to Arborea by Maurelle. Honestly... It is a good thing I was getting my cards read again, otherwise I might have decided to ride piggy-back on someone and tree allergies be damned!

Oh, but I did get my next task from the gypsy, so I have to hop in a portal to the library in Saidinia and chat up the librarian until she lets me take three books back to Kali. If she doesn't go for it, I might have to set off a stinkbomb somewhere and then just make a break for it with books stuffed under my shirt. If that's how it goes, I should prolly wear a mask or something so word doesn't get back to Triba, because I have a feeling she would be a tiny bit upset about stinkbombs in the library. Probably because the smell would settle into the pages or something. All the more reason!

Also! I gave my Testament of Devotion or whatever they call it at the Rites, and so rather than being Affirmed with the A for Acacea, I am Beloved, instead. Because while mages and the like are Brothers and Sisters in Magic, bards are the beloved lapdogs in the happy family. Oh well! Anira cailo willnyala amirama anira fmaaja ameccla, like the long winded elfies say for "that's life."

Lots of people went up before me, though, and the Warder asked each of them some funny question, like Alantha having to choose between a crown and a scepter if the throne of the world was left empty. That one was hard! She didn't even SAY if the throne had cushions on it, or if the crown was the sort that would slip over your eyes at inopportune moments. Which is totally why I would have had to go with the scepter! You can pose regally with it, point with it, whack things with it, poke...really it is a completely multifunctional tool, fit for a multifunctional halfling!

When it was finally my turn (at least I looked good!), I was asked to choose between pie flavors, and frankly I completely saw that coming! Still, after racing up to take my place in front of her with all those people watching, I still was not entirely sure what to expect--it could have been some really heavy question! She said it all dramatically too, it was kind of funny. "Acacea...spirit of fey..." and kind of paused and I was thinking "WHAT?" "...Blackberry, or blueberry?"

It was pretty funny, and of course that one was easy since there is just no reason whatsoever that one can't have both in a pie! In fact, I later decided that cherries would be a good addition, also. Let's just put ALL the berries in the pie!

After that, it was left up to the magic of the Warder, and she and Eldárwen did their funny shoulder thing. Then all of a sudden-like, I had one key, and two very different things chained to a tower in front of me. I kinda figured I was supposed to free the angel, I mean, they're just nicer in general I think, but that rotten demon-sort just looked so broke-down and unhappy that it would have been just plain mean to leave him there! So Acacea freed the devil, and the Warder stepped back and welcomed me.

"...Acacea. In your testament of devotion, I call you beloved. Our brotherhood will be here to offer you support and care eternal. May your compassion spread freely and without restraints..."

[Acacea]

Although at first delighted when a chubby falcon drops a slightly battered scroll onto the sand in front of her, Acacea sighs in disappointment when she opens it and recognizes her own scrawled handwriting.

Athus-

Before I say anything else, it has just occurred to me that it is really something of a shame that you are not from the Sea of Sand, so you could be Athus, an Aeridinite Asset of the Anuroch, hey? Is it too late to change your birthplace? You think on that.

I have been awfully busy doing the usual earth-shaking deeds, and I imagine you are also since I don't hardly see you at all, really... Sometimes I will ask if anybody has seen you and I will have missed you passing through or something, so if the next time you pass through Hlint, you are set upon by people with clubs and nets--Fear not, they are merely hired thugs to hold you there until I arrive!

It is really too bad that you were not at the Rites; you missed Sago showing up in the middle of the ceremony and sitting in Eldárwen's chair, then tossing some robes at Daeron because he showed up in red to Blue-Day. The party after was something else, too; only a few people were turned away so there was a great deal to celebrate! That's like...a drink per person, you know?

I am sorry that the one time I ran into you, I had to leave rather quickly, again! I mean, well, there were just a billion things going on and I had to snag Cole and ask him about some of them before the exploded my head or something, because apparently that's completely plausible and I didn't know it! Now I do! Har!

Speaking of hars, after I heard about everyone going to aid Kobal and no one seeming to need my help, Triba said she could use it in the desert, so we set off after recovering from some whiskey and a card reading. Did you know that Kali is teaching me to read cards? I've only got five, so it's kind of limited, but "Pick a Card" is kind of fun until you've done them all. Anyway, the desert is less of a barren wasteland than I thought, and is really more of a wild place of magic. I even got to ride a griffon! I think that was the best thing ever, really, even better than Plenarius flying me around, because Triba let me have the reins, you know? So it went where I wanted and was very much like having wings of my own.

I have spent an awful lot of time there now, at least for me, and actually want to be initiated into the tribes. It sounds kind of funny but really I can't wait! You could maybe come, too. If you'd like? Nothing like a lot of halflings and herbs that make your head spin, right? It's good for you! Plus it'd be sorta nice to run into you and all that.

Let me know when you're around, or something...

Acacea

After reading it over again, she shakes her head and stuffs it in her disorderly pack. "Acacea, Acacea...You're the silliest halfling I know." She snickers at herself and pulls a small carved wooden flute from a sidepocket of her bag before quietly singing herself from sight.

A swirl of fast paced notes in a minor key from her flute and the footprints she leaves behind her are the only things that mark the path she takes from there.

[Acacea]

Mulnari, Jenra 2, 1397

I have saved the world a hundred times over since I last wrote anything. Funnily enough, life threatening situations and ancient dungeons are just served with morning tea, now. Except that I don't drink tea, and sleep through mornings; but if I had morning tea, it would be served with the crumpets of adventure. Pygmies, snakes, desert dungeons, or Shadow Thieves? No sweat, you've never been to the Minaret of Symphony.

In between feats of greatness, I have met a lot of people...and seen others that have not been around in too long, for various reasons. Aschy was almost a surprise, but it was really only a matter of time. It was naturally spectacular to see him, although I am not sure how I can possibly have an accurate fill-in. Dashing as ever, and apparently no overly large men named Molly tried to accost him while he was in a cell.

I left Athus shortly before that; is it really leaving? I am not really sure, but I am also not the type to wait around and wonder just because I am bound to him through music. Diamond has shown me that they will be broken when the tear falls, and there will be nothing to miss. Love has done nothing to change my original opinion; it's only brought unnecessary grief (not sure how much grief is necessary, now that I think about it!), for me and my friends. For now, there are parties to attend and songs to sing; there is rather little point in pining, after all.

The dwarf, I ran into while going to the bank for a card-wager... I had to circle around invisibly for awhile just to make sure it was the right one. After all, he'd been kinda hovering near death the last I'd seen him, and that was a loooong time ago. I was pretty sure he'd keeled over in the meantime. There was a brief bout of happiness that lasted right up until he opened his mouth, so really nothing was new, there.

I asked him what demon god we had to thank for him not dying yet, since he was looking so much better (better for a dwarf, anyway) than the last time I saw him, and he said "Ah gort bettahr? Ye kin tank Lestahr, iffen ye ain't fergot 'boot 'im alreadeh."

Unicorn or no unicorn, I have never so much wanted to stick a knife into another person before. Ael was painful, maybe, but Turor was nearly carved into pieces. I wavered for only an instant and remembered who I was talking to. He doesn't know anything. He does not understand anything. He never will.

The dead have risen since what we did in Willow's Weep. All kinds of people are "rejoicing." For Gotak. For Rurik. Maybe even for Thordan. It has been years now, but I would neatly wrap all of them and Turor in a package and hand them back to the Soul Mother for one day of bench-sitting with Aleister and a shovel. (Shovel and bench not required.)

[Acacea]

Oh my goodness I can hardly write for laughing. My hand is just shaking too much! So entirely much has happened altogether in the past year or something, and the only thing I wrote was some narky bit about that mentally deficient dwarf with ogre-breath!

I just don't have time! I'm half collapsed in a room in the Hotel; the innkeeper didn't even look at me funny when I could hardly ask for a room for giggling. He's used to it, apparently!

Aleister would be so proud of me! Today, after finally returning to Pranzis after like a MONTH trekking across the whole continent of Dregar keeping Cole alive (which is a full time job, let me tell you!), I waved my hand at Frilly the Turquoise Turtle and told him "You want to hold Cole's hand more than anything else in the world." And Lo! He took Cole's hand between the two of his and much hilarity ensued.

"Cole...you have nice hands. Lotion?"

"...Let go of my hand before I shove it where the sun don't shine."

"Soft hands... very soft..."

Oh! The pain! The laughter! Cole said he was going to hurt me and that we were going to have a serious talk, but Derrick is always threatening to gut me and it hasn't happened yet! I'm sure he will appreciate the humor of the situation in a few days, while I am safely tucked away in Pranzis. After all, even if he meant it, he'd have to catch me, first!

...Hopefully he also will not be going back to Leilon too quickly, as I decided that my new puppy would do just fine in Cole's room and I am not sure if it can open the door by itself. He apparently has no problem with puppies, but it would prolly be something of a shock if one attached itself to his leg the moment he walked in the door... Yes, I can see how he might be moody.

I got the puppy before my initiation into the tribes, from one of the elders... his dog Poppy had apparently left him with far too many for him to handle! So I got little Sinthar. Yes... he named it "Sinthar's Bane." He is not so great with names, apparently... but at the same time, naming an adorable tail-wagging puppy the bane of the world shaking villain is so hilarious I didn't have the heart to change it! Let's see what you've got, Blood! I don't think it can stand up to a good face-licking!

Besides, this way when he is being naughty (like when I had to chase him through the Arms during a party), I can run after him going "Sinthar! You are going to get a spanking!" and that is also very very funny. "No biscuit for you, Blood!" Har!

Cole is too right about some things, though. Awhile back he said I should be minding my tongue more or something and that...oh bugger I can't remember the whole thing, but I was very surprised because really Cole is the last person I ever thought I would be needing to mind my tongue for. Most everyone's sense of humor has been sat on by a titan or something, though, because it seems like everyone is always mad at me, lately! I will laugh about one thing and they will hate me for another, some even going to the point of doing that whole "you're heartless and cruel" tirade at me or something. Really. Even the ones who say you are family and should honestly know better!

Oh well. I've seen family members throw horrid wiltings instead of dishes at each other, so really I'm just thankful that they give me the cold shoulder instead of making me an Acacea-Raisin!

Recent Notes:

-Acacea Bear-Rider Rides Again!
-Getting Stabbed With a Viper Fang In the Name of Sand Magery
-Boxes of Serpents!
-There is nothing more evil in the world than a paladin riding a badger.

Also, I had a very strange dream about pygmies wielding talking carrots while sparrows made nests on their heads and Cole practiced a two step with Derrick. No idea! I'm sure it is some sort of divine message, but Diamond thinks it was just a weird dream most likely originating from a vegetable shortage or something ridiculous like that. I'm not sure those were her exact words, but the sentiment is the same! What do unicorns know, anyway? She doesn't think Wyatt only beat me at cards because he was cheating, and clearly that means there is just something not right with her judgement.

[Acacea]

Scorching desert breezes dry Acacea's tears as soon as they start down her cheeks, never allowing them to fall. The unicorn in her hands gives her loving support, but can do nothing to ease the pain of tangled paths and lost faith. She rests her forehead on her knees, thoroughly miserable about the road that brought her alone to shifting sands.

Maybe I should have shouted, DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY HAVE DONE? Maybe yelled at them a list of all of the epic things we have accomplished. Maybe then they would not spit in the faces of all of those people and achievements by thinking that a sect of the Mad God had the only answers.

She lifts her head and angrily casts some sand into the winds, for once bitter and discouraged by something already past. Then she slumps down a bit, falling back into the dune and leaning her head back to look at the distant ruins.

I said it all to the wrong people...

She rolls over, frustrated that somehow for just a moment - long enough to lose a battle that stung worse than the swords she'd been bitten by in the past - that decisions are made with the mob mentality. Not just brokenhearted that a group of Dragoncalled had chosen the easy alliance with evil rather than finding their own solution, but disappointed by the thought that had she only raised her voice a little more, they might have held the majority for longer than the few moments it had taken to shift flimsy supporters.

Acacea presses a dry cheek to grains of sand and tries not to think about what she could have said, what she should have done.

"Please come with me, you need not accept anything, just come...Accept your friendship for me and be there with me and that's all... you can think I'm totally loony... just be with a loony. You remember what we always talk about, my worries, what I go on about..."

Acacea pulled her hood down in the rain to look up at Plen, standing outside of the north wall of Hlint. Her eyes drifted back down to the grass, pained by what felt like a complete loss of a friend.

"I know. I'm sorry..."

"Okay."

He turned and started away, and Acacea started rambling a bit, not wanting to feel like she was just abandoning someone. "I already said that you are probably not loony...and that when it is over and the story is going around, that it will have been some heroic thing. And the wisdom of taking lesser of evils will be praised and all that..."

She just kept talking over his "That was not why I made the choice I did," rain making her curled hair even more frazzled than usual.

"-and everyone will have been "proud" to have gone with you. I just..." She rubbed the back of her neck unhappily, then looked up as Brisbane approached and asked Plenarius for a word when he had a moment.

Once the druid had walked away again, she continued with, "I am sure I will be in this story with others as one of the people who put the world in danger. But I don't know. Maybe somebody will remember that I would have no dealings with someone capable of restoring a bloodpool. And lusting after the power that it gives, for their own ends. And who thought, there are always better options, from ourselves, than handing it over. The others, they were mostly for it, for awhile - then against, then for - they don't know. They will go wherever the strings pull."

She stopped with a shrug and looked up to the Bird Lord who had stood silently listening. "I am sorry, Plenarius... I do not want to be a hero, this time...not like that."

Was I right, Diamond? she wonders, to what feels like her only friend. Do they care? I think that is why I did not yell at them... I was afraid... not 'cause I thought they'd make fun of me, or that some Black Wizard would come with some rod of doomedy doom for me or somethin'... I am just afraid that no one would care about the things they have done. Kobal announced at Moraken's, in the middle of a HUGE mob of people, that there was a Black Wizard in the room...name and all... Basically pointed and said "Rufus Coldfinger is a Black Wizard!"

Not a single person so much as flinched. I am not sure I could stand to see any of them again if they just shrugged off anything I could tell them...worse, the loudest of them already knew. How can I do anything about that, Beloved? It will never happen, not when all the world is just like them. Some beacon...

She sits with only glass for company in the harsh climate, unable to help feeling betrayed by everyone walking on two legs.

They can be led with rings through their noses for all that I care, but I will not be afraid again.

[Acacea]

As a halfling lies curled up on a dune, her heart feeling torn in several places, her dearest remaining friend steps out of her hands and onto the sands that pillow her head. Diamond sees the tears fall and dissipate, and her mood is strange, unsure. Her awareness lightly brushes Acacea's and the glass flickers darkly in the light of the harsh desert, embracing the knot of emotions that tangle through Acacea; the hurt, the disappointment, the anger. Through a tiny thread of mingled consciousness she shares them, but doesn't seem to truly understand; the concept of despair is even more alien to the graceful form of a unicorn than it had been to the fey heart of the bard.

Shadows play over the glass as she absorbs the lessons and feelings learned, but she reacts with no anger at the harm done to ideals and dreams, no bitterness at thoughts of despair; these emotions are foreign to the lines of her shape. Instead, she responds with the only emotions she knows and understands. Love and support flow from her, deeper than any ocean, with a trust in Acacea and in her choices, and in the firm belief that the ideal is preserved in the committment to self, no matter the outcome.

She tastes frustration and grief through Acacea, in their joined awareness. Things that would never grace the delicate colors of unicorn nature, course through her and darken her frame... until they simply float away, for now gaining no purchase on her crystal form with the limited understanding she has of them.

Diamond looks uncertainly back at her from the sand, and she prances comically in a dance that scratches lines into the body of the desert. Magic without structure, without form, parts the sand with a tiny horn of glass that swims in shades of red, blue, and green.

Even as the magic fades, the small letters marked with it stay, untouched by any breezes that swirl sands around... they remain; simple, delicate, like the one who wrote them.

I have faith in you, Beloved. Hold your faith with mine in you. Always.

With a small hop, the tiny unicorn lands back in the palms of a halfling. Her mood is neither happy, nor sad; she simply is as she is, looking on from small hands.

[Acacea]

Sunra, Augra 15, 1398

It has been a terribly long time since I wrote in my dwarf-warded book, I know; I say it every time I think, but honestly it just seems like so many things happen all at once that there is hardly time to stop and write about it. Besides, it's sort of my job to carry around stories, anyhow, right? I think if I were to try and get it all down, I would probably have to learn how to squish words all squiggly together-like just to fit it in a book, and Triba already says that I have chicken-scratch handwriting.

Then again, chicken-anything could be kind of a compliment from her, since chickens everywhere tremble in fear at the sound of her name. Or maybe bow gracefully to their adoring subject? I am not sure really, I have never tried to ask a chicken what they thought of the chicken-lady, just heard her ramble on something fierce about them being the most beautiful creatures that Prunilla graced the land with, and so on and so forth. I wonder if I should tell her that she smells like chicken half the time? And I don't mean the deliciously roasted sort.

Well, I think I have been somewhat dancing around the subject, and however much I enjoy prancing... it really lightens the heart, you see... even if you do kind of kick sand everywhere, and then people look at you funny, or a scorpion you didn't know was there goes flying, and then you have to run away in case there is a now-very-irate scorpion's buddy that was playing a game of cards with it before they were so rudely interrupted... Oh, right! Subject!

It is nice to be home, really. I came here in a little bit of shock, I think; pretty much just flopped down and was all angry and sniffly for a long while. Like maybe I had believed in a bunch of things that were not real after all, things that had all just kind of crashed down around my ears.

Is that the phrase? I hope not, because that doesn't make any sense! Can you just imagine something crashing and then hovering up around ear level? Really it should be "down around my toes." Oh well, whatever.

Diamond made me realize how silly I was being to be laying flopped in the sand doubting everything, instead of just doing something. After I got it together, Desert Lynx found her way to me, since me being so freaked out made her feel like a bun with the wrong sides or something weird like that. Linked and all... I just never thought or expected that I would ever sit down here on our little sandcalling dune and be writing that a group of friends had made a deal to mutual benefit with a stuffed-up cult of Corathites... har, mutual. It is a funny word to use. They may enjoy the mutual benefits, but there was surely no mutual cost. We will pay, and they only gain...

It is so hard to swallow that they held the Blacks so high in their collective esteem. Not all, but most. Either they were afraid to push the Blacks because they thought they were all-powerful, or they knew better and went along with the group. Or they gave up.

Those are the people that are fighting this war. People that so often preach about faith but have none when it is actually needed. In us? In their gods? The only faith I saw was just a form of fear. The kind of fear that makes them believe that evil has all the power and we have none. The faith that is only in the opposition. We have all have been afraid of them, have kept silent and moved quietly when we should have been shining light into all the places they shroud in shadow.

They can't crush us all beneath their heels, why did we act as if a word would be the end of the world? We have been afraid, and it is a kind of fear that makes what you are frightened of stronger, because we did not act, did not share, leaving people that might help, left in the dark. And so we are still small.

The druidess was afraid. She set herself up as a champion against the Blacks, saying that no other present had greater reason to hate them than her... but that we should do it. Why? Why would someone shout so loudly about having reason to be against them, but push so hard to work with them? Because she was frightened.

She thinks that one holds more power in their pinky than all of our resources combined, and she loses because of it while they probably laugh, because assumed power is just as good as the real thing. I think I knew that, but I never really connected it with people I knew. Ozy has made it obvious that I should have. The mob licks his feet because they believe everything he says, and the people who know better just treat him like a nuisance.

The assumptions allow him to pull the strings, and the disdain lets it go unchecked. He has the kind of power that comes with being a legend, combined with being not worthy of attention, and however addled he may be, it surely has made him more of a threat than I ever considered. He should have been exposed, but he was only ignored, because he was not worth the effort...

And then, there were the people whose primary concerns are to "go down with the ship," but they surely must be missing some cards from their decks. They think maybe that the strength of the group is more important than the ideals of the individual. It probably is some kind of a mark of honor for them that they allowed themselves to be led anyway, and me who will be the dangerous one for lessening the whole.

It probably sounds nice. Maybe it eases their consciences to say, they only do what they are told. Or, they only go to keep the strength of the group. They are the people ruled in every story that a tyrant has reigned unchallenged, the soldiers in the armies directed by evil because they can't break away from the others.

They think the days of the hero are over, maybe? That there is not or shouldn't be anyone to simply speak out when leaders stop leading, when they leave only people whose feet shuffle forward when their backs are prodded? What do they think we are? Can't they just stand up and say no?

This time, the Harper said, "No." I said, "No." And, I think that either or both of us would say it a hundred more times if we had to. Or have it directed at us, if we made a misstep. And there are many others... Did they think that I was loud, before? It will be slow at first, while someone else has the ear of the mob. I can shout, but also I can whisper. If there are strings, then I will cut them...

[Acacea]

A collection of entries and memories from inside a frozen instant now behind her.

Apreal of 1395

I will have to remember to tell everyone about the time I talked to the tree and it talked back, definitely. We were in the Grove of Illusions to ask the nymph if she knew of any kind of tower or what have you... I mean we talked to the Nice-Emily-Projection in her tower, and she said that the forest was where Narsil's tower was at, but the rangers and nymph said there wasn't one, though the latter said people had come before seeking it for some reason or another.

Fascinatingly (I think I have been around Brac too long) enough, she took even more pieces of clothes off of her dress. The nymph, not Emily! She asked me if I liked it and while of course she looks stunning in it, it is really more of a belt than a dress, you know?

Right... tower... focus! So yeah, I chatted with the tree after it dropped the nut on my head while they got the map we had of the forest marked at where the tower was rumored to be but never found, and by Corath's frozen black arse, trees talk slowly...

He did say though that in places of illusion, all is not what it seems, and that when the holder of the last of the lost talks, the land listens...that's me! Apparently! Go figure.

Brac told me to leave the poor tree alone, but since it was really just trying to be helpful I think that was terribly rude. I asked it if it knew anything about Narsil's tower, and it made the leaf-quivering sigh noise and said that it could not help me because the tower was beyond the land, and called me the bearer of the horn's hope.

By then, everybody was warding themselves and ready to be off, and I said I was only just getting acquainted with Divvy (that's what I decided to call the tree, since the nut he dropped on my head had a little symbol for divination carved on it, and well calling it "Divination" just sounds silly!) and Rolf made an awfully mean crack about it... 'So thats how Treants are created - Acacea talks to trees and in the end they decided they can't handle it any more and leave.'

They thought it was terribly funny, of course, and maybe it was a LITTLE funny, if only because Rolf actually made a good joke and that is surely a sign of the heavens come crashing down... I'm focusing! Really!

After Athus faked a snooze to get his arse pinched by the nymph (What! It's true!), we headed off into the deep forest and...walked.

Yes... walked and walked and walked and walked. Nice scenery...no tower. We hiked for EVER and finally came out a ways from Karthy; I nearly died right then, especially when we had to go ALLLL the way back and not a single person offered me a piggy back ride... I haven't the faintest what they meant when they said it would put my mouth too close to their ears--especially since I could give better directions that way!

Annnnyywaaay... Reventage fell down a hill... Yes! You've seen right through me, oh journal mine. That's actually the only reason I even started this far back! I wanted to talk about the Harper tumbling down and landing in an invisible heap.

It was too funny really, though... CRASH. I think the whole forest heard... It really made up for getting absolutely drenched by rain. I think the weather was laughing at us. Well, I suppose I could have just said 'We looked for the tower after talking to the nymph but couldn't find it, and Rev fell down a hill,' but that wouldn't be nearly as funny.

I wasn't TOO surprised, to be honest; it is, after all, 'beyond the land,' and I'm PRETTY sure the rangers would have noticed a giant stinking tower in the middle of their forest, but it was worth a look and the rangers were pretty dim when we talked to them, anyway.

The mages started getting all frowny and said something was off and put on their concentrating faces--you know, the ones where they look like they are having stomach problems and get all narky with you if you rather politely ask them if they are feeling alright because you're 'interrupting' or something.

Savin looked particularly ill, which was a cause for concern since the last time he looked like that, he got bitten by some force or another for trying to sense what was interfering with the flowers blooming... but he didn't get bitten, he just flickered and disappeared...He'd found the tower.

Brac said the Weave was out of sync and that essentially what Savin had done was match himself up to it, and that we could either try to do the same, or sync the Weave... the latter sounding horridly hard, so instead Rev drew some circles on the ground with focus points, and everyone did some serious concentrating to align the inside of the circle to it so that it would link to wherever Savin went!

We all did our thing and got all glowy and crazy and then bam! Circle linked and portal created, if about as stable as a bridge hanging by apron strings. We hopped in and that is how we got here... Unfortunately, once we had stepped through, the Weave was ripped from hands (minds? tongues?) and the portal went away... the whole place was surrounded by a wall of magic that kind of hemmed us in here...

It was not the run down, dilapidated tower we expected, though! Oh no, it was...well...Perfect. All of the paths were tended and the flowers were blooming, and oh the tower itself was spectacular, even if it did have an overly elaborate doorbell.

See, it has these singing statues outside that were so perfect that they looked like they were going to wave at you or something. Well, they didn't sing by themSELVES, but they amplified it and kinda sang along-like... there were some in the back of Lucinda and Ilsare, both, even...well anyway, all of the statues had incomplete sets of dispelling runes inscribed on their bases; essentially we all just picked one and sang to them at the same time, so they lit up in reds, golds, and blue and fused together as well as a brownie and the earth after being run over by a giant, shot at the tower, and there we had it!

The door swung open rather cheerfully; maybe that whole sing-to-dispel-the-musical-lock system was common back in the day, like some kinda "praise the goddess" ritual before entering Her tower, you know? Of course it's funny now, because we were still half expecting something big and smashy, even after Brac changed into a pixie (again! It never gets old!) and said that there were just a lot of happy, dancing people inside.

I was thinking the whole thing was some kind of creepy nymph fantasy stasis bubble where you're happy all the time and never get old or get hungry or anything and are trapped FOREVER, but by the end of that whole statue thing, I am so ready for a bit of a party...

Soo...well...that's how we got here. How we are planning to get out is a different manner entirely, and I don't think is much of a concern to anyone at the moment. Much to do, after all! It can't be that difficult; likely just another silly doorbell to get back out.

-1-

[Acacea]

A collection of entries and memories from inside a frozen instant now behind her.

Apreal of 1395

It sure took us long enough to work ourselves up to just crossing the now-open doorway... of course we have good reason to worry about doors and the insides of towers and so on, but this time we were just chirped at by a doorman that must have been appointed by Ilsare herself, or something. At least I brought drinks, though it's more for familiarity than actual thirst--I feel like I can live forever on a bottle, really!

Serin (the greeter!) was delighted to see us even though we weren't on the extensive guestlist, and we likely could have just said "Hey! Here to see the wedding!" since it is tomorrow (except years and years ago, how does that work?) and that is what everyone is so busy about, but Reventage said that some of us were performers, and the rest carried the luggage, which aggravated a lot of people to no end, and rather confused Serin since he pointed out that she must have a LOT of luggage. Or maybe all of the carriers were just awfully flimsy, needing two people per pair of underwear? No idea!

He showed some of us to the guest quarters while telling the rest that someone would lead them to the servants', or something... Poor Serin was pretty easily agitated, he kind of reminded me of a bird that kept flittering around from place to place without really knowing what in the hells he was going there for... Happens to me all the time! So many neat things around to look at; drives me to distraction, it does! Like... Oh. Serin. Right.

Rolf caught up and Serin near had a heart attack telling him to SHOO, but when the Misty handed her a rose from their fabulous indoor garden, his tune changed entirely and he started talking about having two weddings instead of just one...it was hilarious, especially because Rolf had no idea what he was going on about when Serin grabbed his hand and shook it a billion times to congratulate him. I was already liking this tower at that point, even if it was some kind of little time bubble. I was pretty determined to enjoy myself and never mind that any minute it might snap out of its happy-place and leave us all shaking hands with zombies or something.

We were all a little silly during most of this--we knew where we were, what was going on, and that we really weren't any kind of prisoners, but we were so used to being blown up whenever we opened a door that we did a lot of the sneaking around when we were frankly quite free to wander for the most part!

I went and picked the lock on the door to the servants' quarters instead of just telling Lana that I needed all of them, we had all these silly transparent lies and excuses for being in places that we likely could have asked guided tours with refreshments to, stuff like that! They probably thought we were horribly strange distant cousins or something.

Everyone in the place was in a good mood, delighted at the upcoming wedding between Emily and Narsil. Music, dancing, smiling. Everyone except our luggage carriers, of course! Haaa... Ahh I need a moment. Haaaaaaa.

Oh man...their uniforms smelled so bad... they were adorable, sure, but the stench! Their quarters smelled worse than Moraken's storeroom; I was really thinking twice about asking Lana to let me have one of them for awhile, just because I didn't want the delicate aroma of giant feces and rotten eggs following me around the place!

Well...some were more unhappy with the situation than others, I guess... I gather a change of clothes can put wasps in the knickers of the sensitive types. Or maybe they just don't have very adaptable wardrobes. Anyway, I grabbed Bil from the servants quarters and took him to the main hall (he was grumbling about chafing and allergies the WHOLE time), where the musicians were preparing the symphony for the wedding.

I am not sure if they were simply the best musicians I have ever heard, or just playing on magical instruments, or both, but the music itself was fantastic. The symphony, was, you know... the songs that Alantha and I sing, it seemed... it became rather painfully familiar in the middle of it, but then it continued on, to an ending we'd never heard, that brought the whole thing together in a sort of singular statement of sound and-never-you-mind-the-alliteration. It's almost like I can feel it growing and changing inside of me, becoming complete when I didn't know that it was not.

Katrien took off near the end of the recital... she has seemed a little strange the whole time; I think that she is still sad about leaving her daughter in someone else's care with a fever or something. In any case, she left the music hall looking like someone had just told her that there was no such thing as pie, so when the musicians put down their instruments and said, "Great, your turn!" they were looking at me and Rev. Of course!

Some serious improvisation was in order, but they allowed us to use their instruments, at least... I borrowed a fiddle that was -very- finely fashioned of yew, and was watched like an over protective father watching his daughter's favored consort or something. We had a grand improvised harp-fiddle duet going there for awhile, and Katliness rejoined us sometime during the middle with her flute.

It sure went well enough though, what with all the applause and squealing and all that at the end! By them I mean! In appreciation! So at least our minor charade was kept up to standard with a fantastic performance of our own!

Of course, while the women were having a rather lovely music recital, the boys were running around trying to figure out what in the Pit we are doing here and what's going on, and other less interesting things like that.

Alright... so it has a little relevancy. Definitely not up to sorting through the rambling yet, though! Maybe after someone finally makes Athus change out of his silly outfit before he goes batty and strangles Lana for having put him in it.

-2-