Adair's Journal

[gilshem ironstone]

Another sleepless night.  More flashes or the slaughter.  The sound of that scream pierces my ears nightly.  My comrades rise from where they lie and mock me.  Then I discover I am suckling at my mother, only to find a mouth filled with blood.  I wake with sweat soaking my clothes and the cold stars stare down at me.My mind goes back to my study.  The frustration, the failures, the humiliation and I cannot help but wonder if Garrick mistook my talent for spell-singing or if I am missing something, some key to unlock a different side of my talent.  My war chants have their appeal: it is easier to vanquish a foe when he falls down asleep at my feet, but I read in the Library in Spellgard of the exploits of Alantha T'sarran and I wonder at it.  Pure channeling of the Al'Noth is something apart from what I do.  I hope to one....*A water stain blots out the rest* 

[gilshem ironstone]

Dancing with the gods.  That is how the cants of the War Singers feel.  They taught me that the words, the intonation, the rhythm is what made the Al'Noth flow, but I am not sure.  I learned something about wizardry when I was in Spellgard and that sounds like a wizarding practice.  I have found that my cants work best when the words take hold in me, make my blood flow.  Like the Cant of Ilsare: it drives people in to a deep slumber, I know, but only when it feels like my mother singing me a lullaby.  Soothing, peaceful.  Same with the Cant of Aeridin, it does not drive back the deaders unless the words land in me like one of those starry nights where you look up and can feel every inch of you tingle in wonder.  I have a lot of cants to learn, so I have to practice.