My Diary - Sasha Tomyris

[Dezza]

I almost laughed at the irony of my last entry. How eager, how full of spirit I was just a short time ago. So long a journey and so quick a fall. Is that what I am now, a fallen. I have read stories of those in the past who have fallen from grace and now I find myself among them. I cannot walk the streets of Vehl anymore without sneers and laughter behind my back.

I cannot stand to look at myself in the mirror for everytime I do I see the mark. Cut into my flesh when I had no power to resist. Where was Rofirein then, where was he when we stood before the ancient enemy, where was he when his claws burned into my flesh. Where is he now....

If he exists I have not seem it. if he exists then he allows these things to go on and does nothing. Prantz, the ancient enemy, the corruption of dragons, the death of innocents. What did I fight for? I no longer see clearly. Then there are the dreams. Terrible dreams that awaken me at night, and it burns, it burns so badly. I want it to end, I can't see clearly my way anymore, my vision is clouded by the need for vengeance and the need to punish those who have destroyed my life.

I cannot serve Rofirein anymore and do what I know needs to be done. I must take vengeance and punishment into my own hands. I will bring down the Dragon Stealers, I will do unto them what they have done to me. An eye for an eye I will take. My life is ruined, everything I wanted to be is ruined, I can no longer serve the Great Dragon...Great Dragon...thats almost humorous.

I am no longer his instrument, how can I be, the life I had and wanted is lost to me. Now those who did this will pay. It is time now, time for vengeance.

[Dezza]

*rough sketches are now spread chaotically over the edges of her pages, sketches of fire and claws and an odd symbol dressed in flames*

I have always had trouble with anger..now I find it rises more and more quickly to the surface. Frustration gives way to anger more frequently. I stood within earshot of Daralith not long ago and it was all I could do to stop myself from drawing my sword and cutting his vapid head from his shoulders. The worst thing is...at the time I could think of nothing that could have given me greater pleasure. Am I losing myself? Has despair brought me so low? I have these dreams now...burning....watching..

My sword lives as a part of me, it tasted the blood of the Drachs and of those who serve the Dragon Stealers recently...euphoria..finally I could act..I could seek vengeance against those who have taken my life from me. Vengeance..a dish best served cold..but my rage and my anger burns within me..I try to control it...control...can I?

[Dezza]

Several steps closer....saviours of Tulam we have become. Now..an audience with the Queen....the enemy are making inroads and securing pieces in their advance..now we begin to lay ours. Finally there is a chance we can mount a counter attack at some point in the future.

Oddly the taste for battle burns strong, finally to taste the blood of the enemy pushes me onwards. I despair sometimes that it is his influence through his mark....but...maybe, it was always in me. I never really heard the voice of Rofirein, I never heard his message truly, I served the idea, the cause; sword, shield, honour, ideal, Justice. What the world saw and preceived was all to me I would make them respect the Dragon, by the sword if necessary. Was that wrong? If my present condition is any indication...I was...I dont know now...all i know is the burning desire to bring down the Dragon Stealers that sits heavy in my heart.

That idea is gone from me now...I am alone in the dark places where only fire and revenge dwell. I wait..I hone the edge of my sword. I practice with the new sword, it was specially made to defeat dragons, and I wait. Wait for my chance of revenge, my chance of bringing down those that destroyed everything in my life I held dear...everything. Justice........

[Dezza]

*On yet another page after several pages of scrawl and badly drawn caricatures of dragons, drachs and other weird things a list is entered including several scratchings out and re-writing of additional numbers. The heading over the list reads...Kuhl*

180 platinum helmets
30 Adamantium helmets
44 adamantium daggers
100 iron daggers
45 adamantium daggers
40 iron short swords
40 iron longswords
15 iron bastard swords
8 suits of bronze half plate
30 iron chain shirts
12 Iron Chain mail
12 suits of iron full plate
24 platinum chain shirts
18 suits of platinum chain mail
8 suits of platinum full plate
20 suits of Ancient Dire bear armour

485,000 trues

[Dezza]

The General and the Queen are both saved but the situation has become far more serious than ever imagined. We lost Kuhl...there is nothing else to say, it was our fault, we knew what was needed and yet we failed to act in time and now we pay the penalty.

I cannot believe that so many stood there proclaiming their solidarity to save the Queen but then when challenged to support her afterwards there was a resounding silence. Only Sala, my old friend was willing to pledge to aid the Queen and her people. I felt ashamed, embarrased that I was with those people in that moment. Sallaron would have too...he knew the score, what was required, he was the only one not to return, he sacrificed himself to see the Queen to safety and what did he get in return. They all stood there like mutes when asked to step up to the plate.

I will fight on...but I cannot do it alone..with Sallaron gone..who do I trust? Where do I go? My mind is in turmoil. The only time I am at peace is when I practice with my sword or am in battle. There I can be me, there is no time for second thoughts, for doubt, for fear, there is only action, reaction, precision.....perfection.

I am what I am, Lord Alexander called me a knight, I was....once....now I am merely a warrior, I am a warrior of Justice and Order and somehow....somehow...I shall make it so...the Dragon Cult..shall be brought to heel...or die.

[Dezza]

*the page is marked as if tears have fallen upon its coarse form and then dried, in some cases the ink is marked as if the tears were tried to be brushed from the page*

Why is it that no matter what I do...I fall short. Everything I attempt...is not enough. The farthest I go..is not far enough.  I try to follow my heart and yet its obvious I am not listening hard enough. I try to think thinks through....but it seems I have not thought enough. This is how I feel.

All I have thought about since my fall from grace is to be rid of this cursed mark once and for all and now after such sacrifice, such heartache, such...hard....work....it still is burning on my chest, eating its way into my soul. How much is enough. How much blood needs to be spilled, how much of my life needs to be sucked out of me!

In the attack recently to reclaim the Tear for the ancient enemy I called upon his power. Others resisted the call, Argali, strong and brave..she resisted. I didn't, I couldn't, anger had consumed me, unnatural anger, to have come so far and be so close to our goal, so close to the chance to remove this taint once and for all! Only once its gone can I even begin to ask Rofirein for his forgiveness. We could not go on without someone making the sacrifice to call upon his allies to aid us. We were damned if we did and damned if we didn't.

Now....now.....allies becomes enemies, we fight each other, I find there are fewer and fewer people I can trust. Where is the order that once prevailed...where are the laws that once people adhered to...things I fought for in those years of service to Rofirein. Things I still fight for now without his blessing.  Can I feel anymore lost than I do at this moment? How much more must I give before I can chose to live my life the way I wish to, how long before I can turn and ask Rofirein to forgive me and put myself at his mercy.  

I cannot go before him until I am rid of this taint. I know people do not love me for handing the Tear back to Fisterion, but there could be no other choice. It was a decision made not even in consideration of myself. If Shadrixkayl obtained both Tears no one would be safe in this world. With Fisterion and Shadrixkayl both with Tears the balance is restored. The human cities across Mistone and Alindor are safe from further attacks for now and its one less demon we have to worry about in this war.

I fear I tread in a wilderness with the light that is Rofirein and my true self being crushed smaller and smaller with each failure or each time I reach out and fall short.  Even in this last mission it was Sallaron and I at the end who saw clearly what had to be done and even that was snatched from us for nothing. People stood by and watched as Abiorn struck us both down with hardly a care. How do people fall so far that they murder without a second thought. And Steel....I have no words I can write that describe the disappointment and hurt over what he did and what he condoned to be done to us. Trust is a commodity these days of which I find I am having less and less.

[Dezza]

And out of darkness and chaos a light appears, an offer of hope, an extended olive branch that I cannot but reach for and grasp onto with all my might.

Free, for the first time in years since the ancient enemy bound me to him against my will. Free, since  I allowed the group I was with to cajole me into accepting the taint of the Shadow. Free, finally...to rebuild what little of a life I have.

Now that my mind and thoughts are my own truly I have a new direction. Argali and I have come up with a plan...a plan which we now seek to put into action. But it requires knowledge, knowledge that we must seek from those still alive who participated in the Bloodwars.

[Dezza]

At last...my heart soars...in the last months I have finally removed the taint cast upon me by the Ancient Enemy and the Deepening Dark. A momumental undertaking in itself. Now...as i find my way again with free will a servant of Fisterion comes to me once more, a Wyrm bonded much like we were, but powerful beyond measure, a master swordsman of the like I have not witnessed before. He offered me a place in Fisterions service, he offered me the finest sword I have ever laid eyes upon to weild in the name of Fisterion. I had only to accept his offer.

So many have told me how easy it is to succumb, how easy it is to just accept whats given, grasp power when its offered. Yet that was not how I was raised, all that I am I owe to my father, my mother and to Sir Jorim and...to Rofirein.

I believed my life to be ruined when the Ancient Enemy took me as one of his forcibly. But I rejected the offer, I saw in the reflection of that blade who i truly was, who i had always been, who I will always be...there is only one Great Gold, only one Dragon who will stand up for the people of this world and therefore I stand with him, and I stand with those who serve him.

After that moment of realisation, of true self identity, for the first time in years I stepped foot within the temple of Fort Vehl, a simple person coming to morning prayers. To say the feeling of being home once more was overwhelming and as I prayed with head bowed I wept tears, for what was, what is and what is to come. But I left there....with a new purpose, an uplifting of my heart I had not felt for many years.

I serve Rofirein, I serve the principles he calls us to honour, I serve the people of this world who want to live with order around them, who want peace and prosperity for themselves, just a small piece that they too can call their own.

In the eyes of my god I am now given a second chance, in the eyes of the Faith I must still earn much...but for now..with a joyful heart I can once again focus on the task at hand. Dealing with the Dragon Stealers!

[Dezza]

*Sasha sits at the desk in her training room at home, sweat stands out on her body from the set of combat manouvers she had just completed. Complicated and elaborate training moves to keep her sword skills at their highest level. Morning and evening she drills relentlesly, sometimes in full armour, other times in light clothes as she had just done. She dabs at her forehead with a light towel that she had drapped over her broad muscular shoulders. For a moment she examined her arms out before her, slender yet hard and muscled with numerous scars from past battles. They were an extension of her body and almost seemed unnatural to her without her large blade and shield held firmly by her hands.She wiped the sweat from her flat, hard stomach then dumped the towel on a nearby combat dummy and picked up a quill to write.*

For now, I settle, I gather information, I train and prepare for the coming battle. I plan to be there to stop them, wherever, whenever they choose to strike. I dedicate any spare time I have now to ensuring I am at the peak of physical fitness, that my blade is merely an extension of thought and mind. When I am in battle I am only one when my blade and I are in unison. There can be nothing else beyond the pure thought of mind. I am the blade, the blade is me, I am the mithril, the mithril is me, I am the cutting edge, the cutting edge is me, I am part of the lines of symmetry, the lines of symmetry are me, I am balance, balance is me, I am poise and poise is me, I am a martial force with full purpose and resolve, the martial force of purpose and resolve is me.

I know my weaknesses, I know my strengths, I must take to the enemy with my strengths.

[Dezza]

It seems people do not take easily to the new me. My sense of duty and purpose, my sense of justice makes people feel uncomfortable. My mother often says that the truth hurts. While I have not seen my family for far too long...since my fall to be truthful they have appeared in my thoughts of late. I know I should go back to see them, especially now since the enemy seem to have forces moving through Mistone but each time I book the ticket to travel there I falter. I don't know what it is, perhaps it is that I can handle being judged by anyone on this earth...but my own parents. Until I can face that then I will not make that journey.

I have heard that some have organised to meet with Xora but so far I have not heard if I can travel with them, Steel has taken up his own agenda, I hear nothing from Jennar anymore which I can understand, in her eyes I must still seem disgraced. Storold no longer communicates, everything he is doing has become highly secretive, Sallaron has all but disappeared and while he denies it, his continued link to the Ancient Enemy has changed him I fear. Even Argali to some extent has gone her own way. Rarely do I see Ark anymore and when I do he's decided he can take decisions over life and death into his own hands. So what do I do.

I do all that I can do. I train, I watch, I wait. I push myself to the limits of physical exertion to be the perfect warrior. I have seen and I have fought those in the Deep who spend hundreds of years to perfect the use of a weapon. I don't have that long...I only have a human lifetime.

I may have restored my faith in Rofirein but I fear I still have a far greater task ahead of me to restore faith in the eyes of my peers within the church. I feel their eyes on me every time I enter the temple in Vehl. I know they whisper behind my back and point but I don't care anymore. I am there for Rofirein.

[Dezza]

*Sasha stood over the dwarven smith as he laboured at his work, the heat in the forge is intense and the sounds of metal ringing on metal, the hisses of boiling water from the other forgers created a cacophany of sound around the glowing orange light created by heated metal.

"Deh metal beh ready nauw iffn yea 'ave dey words roight."

Sasha nodded at the burly figure and took from her pocket an old crumpled piece of parchment, kept long and in secret, a gift from Gabby so long ago, gifted to her in turn by a great man and gifted to him by an even greater one. Over the din she read the words, poorly if she knew the truth but she did so anyway.

"Wha' are yea daft? Dat nay beh makin any sense loike." The dwarf grumped up at her.

Sasha regarded the engraver closely, his matted beard and bespectacled face, dull orange reflecting off the metal rims.

"Just do it, it does mean something, something that has been lost for a long time."

The dwarf shrugged broad but stooped shoulders and turned back to the gleaming sword that lay across his lap. Nearby a heated fine tipped forge iron and a glowing crucible of heated silver rested ready for the final etching.

The dwarf rubbed a thickened dirty thumb across his check, shrugged once and got to work over the blade of a large sword that rarely left the hand of the warrioress that stood over him watching each step of the process with intensity.

When it was finally done he breathed over the inlay then stood and quenched the blade in a deep vat of water before handing it awkwardly, hilt first back to her.

Sasha gripped it reverently and admired the inlaid inscription in the blade.
"Khuiedr Tyhuekyra" she whispered softly to herself.

"Wha's dat?" quipped the dwarf with a hand cupped around one ear.

"Nevermind," Sasha replied, "it's perfect. You've done well Master Engraver. Thank you." She dropped a heavy pouch on the table next to the dwarf. He picked it up and judged the weight with a pleasant suprise before ambling off to his next customer.

With a long hiss the blade slid smoothly into the sheath by her side and Sasha strode from the smithy, determination in every step.

[Dezza]

And thus another chapter of my life has ended. Ark has gone and got married. I don't know really how to explain how I feel about that. For years we have been together and yet we have been apart. Not really a couple, me involved in my work and him involved in himself. I don't hold it against him, in fact its almost a relief in some ways. I knew that nothing could really ever come of our relationship. I call it a relationship but I'm not sure what it really was. Yet, somewhere inside a part of me laments at the loss, have I lost a chance? My head tells me no, its the best thing for all of us. My heart I guess finally realises the truth and while I am sure we will remain friends I feel I have lost some part of me, a part that perhaps I kidded myself that ever was and yet it was a large part of me. I am sure that doesn't make that much sense if anyone read this but it does to me, in a way.

I should thank him really. Now I am free to pursue my own path, the uncertainty of whatever it was we had has been removed, yet the removal of it leaves me feeling....odd, empty? No, I dont think that's the feeling, I guess it's more like something I've lost that I never really realised how much I cared about. Perhaps, in some way, this is a sign from Rofirein, a clearing of the path so that I can focus on tasks at hand.

The road ahead is fraught with controversy. I stand to embark on a mission to reclaim that which I have lost, to clear my name and step back into the role I know I was born for. The Knights of the Wyrm.

[Dezza]

Am I cursed to constantly strive and yet not achieve? or am I simply going against the ebb and flow of the life that Rofirein wants me to pursue?

Not even a week after I sent in my application for a hearing for a chance to be once again reinstated into the Knights of the Wyrm and I am sent a 'care' package containing items stolen from the Kingdom of Illarial. A place I went to as a young Knight and swore I would never return too.

Doing what I thought was right I presented the items to High Justicier Reus to be given my marching orders and for it to be assumed I was somehow responsible for the items being taken in the first place. Yet again my name smirched in mud on the cusp of putting forward my case for reinsatement. Everything I have done in the name of Rofirien in my life has almost been brought low each and every single time I act. I would forgive others of giving up, of throwing in the towel as such frustrations and barriers and yet I continue to push forward. My mother always said I had a tendency to be pig headed and stubborn when obstacles were put in my way. How much is enough? I've often asked myself that question, How much is enough? How much can I take before I give in, before I just turn and refuse to fight any longer? What happens then?

Always the same answer comes back to me. If I dont fight, who will fight for the people? Who will defend them when they need it the most? Who will bring them stability and Justice when they need it most? Who will restore order when chaos threatens? Words can only do so much. When the time comes for swords and shields to bring peace and justice then that is when I come. I am the Sword and I am the Shield of Rofirein in the eyes of these people. I will be the one who stands for them and before them. With or without the backing of the faith I will be there when it matters for I serve Rofirein and that I have come to realise...is all that matters.

Thus now that I have returned the items to the Kingdom of Illarial and sworn to the King I shall never return I must once again turn my attention to the Cult as they once again rear their ugly heads and perhaps this time we can cut them off before they destroy us all.

[Dezza]

A year passes...

The door swings open, the familiar sounds and smells assail her and her walls come crashing down, tears flow openly once held back by rigid control and forced determination.
"Mum." Is all she can manage and shes once more the little girl who used to run to her mum when she had hurt herself on the farm where she grew up.

"There, there dear. Come inside, you'll catch a cold." Aged but gentle hands stroke her head and soothing words come forth as she is led to the kitchen table and is sat down in one of the chairs. An elderly man immediately stokes he kitchen fireplace to bring water to the boil and without asking begins to prepare a tea.

Peace, safety, release. Here she can simply be and its safe, here she can let down her walls, and its safe, here she can simply be a little girl once again with no worries and no concerns, at least...for a time.

Soon, reluctantly, she dries her eyes on a towel offered her by her father along with a steaming mug of fresh tea. A reassuring hand clenches her shoulder and he sits in his usual seat. Her mother releases the bonds holding her long hair in a tight pony tail and quietly brushes it out. With each brush tension eases from her body, the tea settles her and there is a comforting silence for a time.

"Thank you." Is all the words she can muster, not wanting the moment to end. Five years had passed and she had not had the strength to return home. With all that had gone wrong in her life she couldn't face them. Couldn't face their judgement.

"You took your time girl," her father moved slightly on his seat, the chair creaked as it always did, familiar sounds.

"I'm sorry father, I...I.." the shame of telling him she was no longer a knight, that she had served not one, but two evil dragons, that she had been used as a pawn by unknown forces in having property stolen from a holy Rofirein site, that she felt that she had failed in so many duties that she just didn't know whre to begin and that she had tried to warn the faoth about the Cult and it all just seemed to fall on deaf ears, that Arkolio was dead and that she realised she already knew that she could never commit anything more to her present lover if he asked, it all came crashing down on her head at that moment and she couldn't bear to look her father in the eye.

Her mother stopped brushing her hair and laid the silver and wood brush on the table then sat beside her and her father stood and sat on her other side, dragging a nearby chair across to do so.

"I seem to remember a long time ago a young girl who wanted so desperately to become a knight, with all the glory and flashing swords and hero's welcomes and all such nonsense. Rubbish talk, she'll grow out of it I used to say. Then that day those men hurt you and Sir Jorim saved you and brought you to us I knew then what you would become. I tried to deny it and when Sir Jorim asked to take you as his squire I selfishly wanted to say no. I knew what you would become and I wanted to say no, to spae you all of this. But, the truth is my dear daughter that everything you have gone through to date is the measure of who we are. Do you think at the end of our lives when Rofirein looks into our hearts and judges us he judges us by the way people feel about us or what they think?" There was a long pause as he let his words sink in. "Its what we do in and by his name thats important, what we do, not anyone else, not what anyone else makes us do, what we do. Our decisions, our responsibilities, our hearts are what he judges. He does not measure us by human standards he sees far more than that. we have to have faith in that, trust in that, make our peace with that. That is who we are, that is our measure. If you can look into your heart and believe that you have fought for the right path, the right action, for justice and honour then that is the faith you hold onto, always." Her fathers work worn hands closed over her own. "I love you Sasha, you are my daughter, my own flesh and blood, and I...have....faith...in...your...heart. No matter what." He squeezed her hands gently while her mother rested a kind hand on her shoulder and together they sat for some time in each others company.

[Dezza]

*Many years later the old and tattered diary is found amongst some old papers and dragged out once more*

So much has happened over the last ten years I really dont know where to start. It's all Razeriems fault really. Had I not recelved that letter from him the other day I would never have gone through my old stuff. I was content being Marshal in Lor and now this, after several years he sends me a letter asking for help.

I thought I was over this adventuring business, goodness knows there are enough issues to keep me in Lor for a hundred lifetimes. But he has appealed to my honour and....our friendship. I cannot say no to the latter. Before I knew it I had penned a letter to the mayors asking for a leave of absence for an extended leave of absence. Ten years in Lor and barely a day off and now I ask for a full year. I was suprised they granted it, and granted it so quickly. I will leave the place in good hands for a time, and I shall go and help my friend.