Gold Dragon Paladin Musings

[coachterry]

This past evening was much more purposeful and supportive.  Kesa & Elgon have evolved into solid comrades, and this confident Tara has such impressive resolve and fortitude!  I believe that the four of us are in similar circumstances: relatively new to this society and just developing our skills and our true goals concerning Mistone, Layonara, our friends, and our deities.
Elation ... finally Tegan has returned; disappointment ... my friends (Kesa & Elgon) were diffident about continuing "out" with the Farstrider faction after obtaining the boar's hide (and decimating dozens of undead abominations); therefore, we became separated from the exceptionally talented team and opted to return to Hlint (I think some of the chaotic characters in the group - especially one known as Xavier - were a bit overwhelming for them).  I adore being in Tegan's company, although I tend to swing back & forth from standing "guard" on my weaver and charging forth into battle to earn her "respect".  Rofirein give me the wisdom to make this relationship a positive bond - for both of us.  She is so much more "worldly & sophisticated" than I ... will it ever be else?
Of course, I am still concerned about this "boyfriend" among the Farstriders that would "cut me to ribbons" upon seeing the adoration in my eyes.  My naivete leaves me vulnerable, once again.
Met a fascinating little fellow outside the gates to Hlint with a circular hat much like Jin's.  Offered him coin, but he seemed happier with some of the fruit that Jennara led us to harvest.
Rhynn is still upset with me (as she probably always will be ... some folks have misgivings about we paladins and find it easy to taunt us, especially in front of others).  Maev was correct: I should beware/avoid emotional entanglements with "unstable" women.  I think that I did a much better job fending off her insults, this time.  She is a remarkably beautiful creature!  It is too bad so much time & energy are wasted ranting & raving when she could be honing her exceptional talents.
Off & on I wonder if I will ever meet my father, a Knight of the Wyrm ... supposedly "retired".  I should have asked Jennara!  Or certainly someone at the Cathedral in Pranzis.
Time to pray to the Great Gold Dragon, Rofirein ... He does not "whisper" to me as he did in my youth in the High Forest.  I think that He wants me to figure these dilemmas out for myself.

"Come to the edge, He said.  They said: we are afraid.  Come to the edge, He said.  They came.  He pushed them, and they flew ..."

[coachterry]

As a Rofirein paladin, my first dictate is to "Observe and believe directions."  Next, to defend my church to the death, and then, to respect the meek & weak as their defender.  I cannot stand against Blood alone; therefore, to follow the wisdom of Rofirein, I must accumulate knowledge ... knowledge of the terrain that battles will be fought on/in/under & around; knowledge of war weaponry - armor, weapons (both military AND magical), transportation, communication, organization, prioritizing, delegation, and the leadership skills necessary to focus the forces and make the often fatal decisions in the equation for victory; and, most importantly, knowledge of my comrades ... the individuals that will fight by my side and form the force that will bring Blood to his knees.
This is my main focus for now: to observe and learn about my comrades ... for they will become the nucleus of our army - our destiny.  Our strength in my early estimation is with our warriors, whether fighter specialist, ranger, barbarian, or paladin, we have a formidable force with such finely tuned skills as Kyle, Kesa, Elgon, Cedric, Berriford, Aryx, Ash, Maev and myself.  I realize there are more experienced, far more formidable warriors on our side, yet this is my "generation" and I look on this evolving group with great pride and confident anticipation ... we will hold our own at the battle's apex.
Information is the most valuable ammunition in almost every encounter.  No strategy can be consistently effective without knowledge of your enemy's movements, numbers, intentions, strengths & weaknesses.  Here again, I believe we have a talented core of individuals that fulfill that need: Ifion, AnnaLee, and Dervish are a perceptive trio who willingly train us and others in the ways of the world ... and there are most certainly other remarkably intelligent "scouts" just coming into their own (for I know little of this group, and must be more aware ... just because it is a deficiency of mine does not preclude me from making good assessments and delegating responsibilities accordingly).
A minor concern at this point is with our weavers: we must have their magic to counter and even overwhelm our adversaries.  I realize their training is intense and takes much longer to fully develop than the sinews and pivoting of the warriors; however, their chaotic tendencies trouble my confidence that they will focus as a team when we are in dire need.  Their talent is spectacular while ambiguous about utilitarianism: Mercas, Rhynn, Az-Ptol, and Tegan (although she truly belongs to the "generation" in front of us).  A formidable quartet ... and I am sure there are others to join this fold.
Now, for the obvious major concern: where are our clerics and druids?  Why has a world so tuned into its various deities not over-run by priests?  As a paladin, I barely touch the immense, intense power of my deity, whereas a cleric/druid draws dozens of aggressive & defensive spells that can turn the tide in a stalemated battle!  And then there is the gift of HEALING ... how much more formidable is any warrior when one believes that his death will be forestalled and his abilities returned with force ... again & again!?!  This is a "weakness" that needs to be addressed with more experienced leadership.  Possibly there is a recruitment movement in process, or maybe some of my "generation" will need to pick up the call to fill this need.  Something to ponder.
For now, I will continue to learn about my comrades to better prepare for the battles ahead of us.
May the great Golden One give me guidance,
Thomas Stormsinger, paladin of Rofirein

[coachterry]

Tonight I contemplate the harsh reality of civilization.  I sorely miss the simple grandeur of my mother's High Forest; the balance of fauna & flora amid the majestic trees that tower over their domain.  Amid the vast peacefulness there is a hierarchy of violence: the strong, the quick, the deceptive, or sheer numbers stake their claim to survival - it is the law of the wilderness ... survival of the fittest.  As a druid, my mother worked within Nature's cycles preserving the balance while protecting the seasonal changes.

Now, I realize that my four-plus years within the Rofirein temple were drastically different from actual society.  We lived by a strict regimen: eating, cleaning, studying histories & judicial decision-making, drilling with various weapons and styles, pushing our physical capacities, and worshipping the Gold Dragon's ethos.  It was a closed system built on honor, truth, loyalty, and justice.
Now I am beginning to realize how artificial that world actually was; it did not prepare me for the complex sublties of "civilization".

Individualism ... what a perplexing concept.  So many people "looking for their edge" ... seeking wealth, power, status, influence, acquisition.  So much deception, so many good folk tempting & tainting their lives with evil.  So many individuals yearning for the "win" and scoffing at the "losers"; so very few searching for the ultimate compromise - the "win/win", where all sides benefit and gain advantages without demeaning & destroying others.  That is the kind of leadership our civilizations need ... where is it to be found?  Men & women willing to defer their egos and negotiate agreements that will require all parties to "give up" simplistic ultimatums and provide advantages for all - "total victory" for none.

Some good news: there are some very talented healers among us!  Ayla, Tyrian, and Abraham were stellar in their support of our groups advances deep into the mines of Haven.  Elgon and I learned a great deal from the inspired leadership of Exodus, as well!  However, several of us felt the disillusionment of death when our overconfidence let us over-extend into the midst of organized packs of ogres.  Very foolish ... fatally foolish.  Rofirein must be impatient with my lack of foresight - of wisdom.  Maybe these lessons will pay back dividends when I face the hordes of Blood.

"Good thoughts are no better than good dreams if you don't follow through."                                R. W. E.    
 

[coachterry]

*Laying exhausted in my room at the Wild Sirge Inn ... Fumbling as I tug my battered journal from the bottom of my backpack*

How long has it truly been?
I have been negligent about my journal entries.  Names and events tumble over each other long after the events.  Neither Elgon, Cedric, nor Kesa  have been in the Hlint community recently; I hope their excursions have been productive & rewarding - I miss their companionship.

Last night was a sharp contrast in "life styles".  The bulk of the day was spent following along like a faithful puppy as Rhynn & Treana wandered the countryside.  They were searching for "a place they had never been."  We marched from the vile crypts of Krandor to the picturesque hilltops of Haven (one must climb a difficult, rocky trail to attain that glorious view).  On that enchanting spot, Mith was apparently asking AnnaLee for her hand in marriage!?!  What a remarkably charming moment, what an exceptional combination: mystery & magic, stealth & sophistication.

Between battles with bandits and undead, I was graced with Rhynn's candor.  We actually sat together against a boulder where she relaxed enough to tell me an abridged version of her journey to Pandemonium: five horses and their riders!  That was her time on the black horse of Anger.  The sad residue of that eventually successful quest ("aided" by a powerful demon of Baator!?) is that Rhynn is convinced that anger will always taint her psyche.  How does one live within the omnipresent threat of explosive outbursts?  Losing control for her must be extremely difficult - especially dangerous for a volatile weaver to contend with.  As a fighter, one might punch or slash someone, but a wizard could incinerate a barnful of animals or a house full of family.  Her obvious potential for greatness is always counter-balanced by this potential for disaster.
 
Perhaps, as friends, we can help in identifying her "triggers" and make her aware to avoid or modify their affects.  She is definitely a remarkable "work-in-progress"; I pray that I may shield her from harm as difficulties arise.

After the exhiliration of battling evil beside the multi-faceted Treana, fate snapped the rug from under my feet.  Misinterpreting the barbed bickering that often occurs between Rhynn and myself (it does seem to "break the tension"), Treana challenged me to combat to defend Rhynn's "honor".  Of course, I refused to draw arms and offered my throat to her blades (which can be swiftly lethal).  She stormed off; I am saddened that such a childish misunderstanding could suddenly tear apart a potentially efficient fighting combination.  Rofirein help me repair this schism.

"Men are all alike in their promises.  It is only in their deeds that they differ."                       Moliere

[coachterry]

In an earlier campaign, I was amazed at the lethal efficiency of Kharl.  As Maev's mentor, he was sweeping the Krandorian crypts clear of undead - a daunting mission.  Ash provided an array of invaluable healing and missile options while Maev and I slashed into the abominations until nearly dead ourselves.  Several times we had to back out from the crypt's depths to rest & recuperate.  Kharl's martial prowess and strategic effectiveness were incredible.  I would expect him to be a major leader in the incessant war against Blood; however, he seems to avoid such positions of authority ... the proverbial lone wolf.  I need to discover the reasons for his "retirement" from paladinhood; it may offer insights into his present mindset.

    Have I mentioned the inspired leadership of Exodus against the Haven mine's ogres?  He is another candidate for troop commanding.  We shall require several such forceful, decisive captains to coordinate our efforts in the major confrontations with Blood's hordes.

    Finally, the evening found a peculiar calm within these storms as I sat beside Jennara on a park bench in Hlint and listened to Ozymandias' colorful rendition of a recent heroic quest.  I was startled when Jennara began to specifically "correct" his narration: SHE HAD ACTUALLY BEEN PART OF THAT GROUP!!  This tiny package of power never ceases to amaze me!  Contradicting her normally pacifistic demeanor, she was particularly annoyed that Ozy often failed to describe the bloody details of each savage encounter ... therefore, leaving a vague image of the actual heroes' actions and accomplishments.  Bards certainly have an amazing gift to resurrect and reconstruct our history in their own terms ... a daunting responsibility, especially to the fallen warriors whose memories are dependent upon these odes and songs of honor & glory.

    To appease Jennara, I have covered my tourqoise armor with a second shade of gold ... appropriately Rofirenian.  Now, I look for a cape similar to Exodus' (not his scarlet red, of course) as it does serve as a beacon in battle.

    I want to remain around Hlint to help new recruits begin their development, yet I yearn to travel and explore this vast, complex network of societies.  Maybe Jennara will have a specific task for me ... or Rhynn ... or Ash ... or Maev ... or Tyrian ... or Tegan.

"Keep in mind this daily notion: There are no ordinary moments."                            Dan Millman

[coachterry]

When Rofirein selects a mate for me, wouldn't He match me with a complementary individual?  One who balances my military/judicial/melee prowess with the skills of a strategist, an adept problem solver, a weaver of arcane powers or a healer of divine inspiration?

    Today was a chance to compare each side of that dilemma. Although split asunder by frustration & desparation, the day began with a diverse outfit led by my new stalwart friend, Cymeran, a drow cleric of Az'atta's penance, redemption and love.  He recruited the powerful combination of half-giant Cronk and wemic Aryx; nevertheless, the two, pivotal pieces of this unit were Kesa and Kali.

    Kesa is evolving into a spartan warrior: cool (except for her disturbingly revealing outfit as Cymeran duly noted!), calculating, and capable in her approach to each dangerous encounter.  Much quicker than I, she thrusts in and slips out before a lumbering ogre or flailing troll can retaliate.  She is truly becoming a potent force for Nature.

    Kali is the mystical weaver.  Perceptive & patient, she studies the various factors and calculates the most effective responses.  I find myself drawn to her potency; however, her aloof demeanor to others and to situations makes it difficult to recognize her true, inner nature ... what makes her tick, what dreams fill her soul.  Nevertheless, it is stirring to imagine my Rofirein shield & shield blunting the enemies' advance as she wields the explosive blasts of her arcane weaves.

    As we were systematically taking down the trolls - just as we had the ogres, earlier - I was suddenly jerked into the void.  Rofirein must have chosen that moment to allow me pause to reflect ... enlightenment.  While meditating upon recent events and personal conundrums, I found myself tossed back into Mistone's forests ... into the middle of several trolls ... with no friends in sight!?!

    After beating a hasty retreat, I returned to Fort Velensk.  I donated most of my coin to our Rofirein chapel, then headed over to the docks.  Much to my chagrin, there was no captain available.  After a night of rest and meditation inside the temple, I returned to the docks - still no captain.  Obviously, this was a gambit by my Gold Dragon as my travels took me first to Kurgin, stout cleric of Dorand, and then ... to Maev, dedicated paladin of Toran.  She is a beacon of focused will and sinewy strength.  Her candid criticisms have already helped me adjust my attitudes and energize my commitments.  With those ebony locks tossing about, she is quite adorable.  What a rush to slash through herds of undead shoulder-to-shoulder ... our dance of redemption.  One day, Maev will be an Undead Slayer and her name will echo throughout the crypts of Layonara.

    Most impressively, Maev introduced us to another mentor of hers, Quantum Windword!  By the time this famous Undead Slayer finished annihilating legions of horrible abominations, Kurgin's hammer was also convinced to follow that noble calling.  Although my mother's abhorence of undead within her druidic domain initially sparked my own interest during those laborious lectures of my intitiate temple training, I sense my true calling is to become the ultimate holy warrior for my Gold Dragon.  Blood will employ demons and mages as well as vampires and liches; I must be prepared for all contingencies ... not "blinded" by concentrating on a singular realm of his vile evils.

    My hand is numb from this writing ... now more like scribbling, and I must pray to Rofirein for guidance and for inspiration.

    "The world is my country; mankind is my brethren; to do good is my religion."                                Thomas Paine

[coachterry]

These musings are from the void.

As a marvelous, although at times dysfunctional (but, what group isn't at times?) escapade into the maze of diseased dire rats and elven mummies within High Forest's Broken Hills wound down ... on our way out ... Mith froze ahead of me ... and Rhynn froze behind me ... and the others far behind us seemed to fade away ... and I was alone ... very much alone.

I was there, but not there.  I could move, which neither Mith nor Rhynn could do; yet, I could not enter any doorways or staircases ... and all the vile creatures had been destroyed ... the maze was empty ... yet, I was trapped.

Was this Rofirein's way of offering me time to pause ... time to reflect ... time to evaluate my recent, "rash" behavior.  

I attacked a comrade.  I violated our code of honor.  A paladin slashed with focused anger ... consumed with unbridled hatred.  And I felt a glorious surge of joy as I felt my blade cut deep into the flesh!

Or, should I say "scales"?  I am a holy warrior, a paladin of the Gold Dragon, Rofirein.  I charged & struck a Pyrtechon - a Red Dragon - the ultimate entity of chaotic evil!  I upheld my oath; nevertheless, I lost my composure.  I failed ... in front of dear friends, I shamed myself.

Our outfit was very efficient.  We cleared the roads from Hlint to Fort Velensk of bandits and undead (there was not as many undead as had been rumored).  Turning our march to Haven, we arrived at Hlint's gates to be met by a FIRE GIANT!  As I gripped my sword and raised my Rofirein shield, Rhynn and Sa'kura approached the behemoth ... and began to chat with it!?!

Tenuously, I moved in.  It was difficult to focus on their chatter with my blood hammering rapidly thru my entire body.  Yet, something did not "fit" ... the girls were much to relaxed ... and even frivolous.

This was an illusion ... a massive illusion.  I heard the name of Mith in their giggles.  It was asking us to bow down to him.  No, it was demanding that we bow down to HIS MASTER, RHYNN!  

As her "Stupid Paladin" or her "Toy Soldier", I have often willingly bowed down to her ... her anger, her frustration, her wiles.  So, I joined with Sa'kura - I knelt on the ground and bowed ... to Rhynn.

Suddenly, everything went black.  I leapt up, drawing sword & shield, and slipped backwards & sideways ... as I had been trained in battling drow with their innate darkness spells.  Luckily for me, I came clear of the black nothingness behind the creature.  Not a giant, but a dragon ... a RED DRAGON!!

Rage began to boil up inside my soul!  As I prepared to yell "For the glory of Right and Rofirein" and charge into the attack on this vile Pyrtechon monster, Rhynn and Sa'kura appeared out of the blackness ... and the sun shined away the dark clouds.  Stunned, I stood as a statue, Rofirein forgive me for my indecision.  My great, true friends were right under each enormous claw ... each talon as big as my ladies.  It could snap them into pieces like so many twigs.

My thoughts were shattered by the dragon's voice.  He was taunting my indecision.  He was demanding that I bow down to him!  As Rhynn & Sa'kura twirled off to each side, I realized that they could spring to safety if I drew this Pyrtechon's full focus ... and force.  My battle cry erupted from my dry throat and I charged into the beast and slashed one mighty blow!!

The sudden screams and rush between us of the lovely weavers shattered my conviction.  The looks of horror in their eyes unsettled my soul.  My entire body shivered with confusion.  I had failed my Lord and ladies in so many ways.

Dialogue ... significant words were spoken ... apologies were made ... I exposed my chest to the creature's ... no, to Mith's reprisals.  In the end, he offered to take me ... take us ... to face a true dragon!

Treana is a fierce, efficient warrior.  We fought superbly shoulder-to-shoulder thru herds of diseased, dire rats, dozens of various slime-spitting puddles, and hordes of vile, elven mummies.  I was especially distraught when I finally realized that she was gone.

Ironic, she despises me for "dishonoring" Rhynn (can you believe the absurdity of such a thing: I honor her as a planetouched "sister" who has helped me more than anyone except Jennara), and I can only admire her ... for her fighting expertise ... for her loyalty ... for her heart ... for that fire in her eyes.

We never found Mith's dragon; however, the master wizard took the opportunity at three different rests to uniquely chastise me.  After sliding my sword safely away for him, Mith tore most of my health away with what he advised the others was "vampiric touch".  When Rhynn exclaimed alarm (or just surprise), Mith informed her that he was "fairly certain"t would not be fatal.  For the third (and final, as it happened) punishment, I knelt before him and meditated upon Rofirein.  

Maybe that is why I walk the void, now ... Will I return to this exact spot?  It has happened that way before.  And, is this a sign of displeasure by my Gold Dragon?  Is he frustrated with my attack, or my confusion & retreat?  Have I failed Him?

Have I failed my friends?  I could not bear that shame.  

For now, I feel like a dead man ... walking ...

Into the void.

"Great is the man who has not lost his child-like heart." Mencius



 

[coachterry]

So many different patterns flashing through my daily journeys.  Hlint has lost its residue of tedium.  For this moment of repose and reflection, I will briefly detail two "military" excursions and then, two very distinct individuals that my Lord Protector, Rofirein, has deemed expedient to send into my life - one from the early hours of my summoning, and the other almost from my future.

I call them "The Wolfpack" (until I derive a more ominous name).  They are mostly elves, with their inspirational leaders being the two drow that I am honored to call friends: Cymeran, priest of Az'assi, and Nepp'akyo, bawdy ranger.  As one would expect, the strategist of the group is a perceptive wizard known as Mercus; his flaming magic and battle tactics always tilt the scales of battle to our favor.  A deadly archer, Ari Moonbow provides a consistent cover of lethal missiles and a unique, refreshing "spunky" attitude.  Quiet confidence wraps itself around the druid, Dorolos (my spelling may be disjointed on names, forgive any errors please) as he hurls lightning and buffers us with heals (as does Cymeran, thank Rofirein for saving my live numerous times).  Others have joined with this nucleus and enjoyed both their comraderie and their remarkable efficiency in the heat of battle (Armolas would really enjoy this outfit).  

My campaign with them swept a huge arc from Hlint's west gate thru forests and deserts and plains back to the east entrance.  Dozens of vicious gnolls, lumbering ogres, and nasty goblins were swept from existence.  Our most brutal battle was deep in a forest near our end with a seemingly neverending array of dwarves and halflings.  This was a campaign such as I dreamed of during military tactics studies at Temple Initiation.  The Wolfpack ... a force to be reckoned with.

My other mission was for my comrade and master metalworker, "Commodore Cronk".  Sellaron and I offered to guard his mining expedition into the Haven mines (as if this giant needs defending!?!).  After a very effective descent and Cronk & I hacking off over a dozen nuggets of iron, we made a careless error: we joked and celebrated too long ... the ogres returned IN FORCE!!  

I became separated from them, and as a result, ended up BEHIND the major force.  After much picking away at these beserkers, we finally closed our "vice-grip" and stepped into the night victorious!  What exhilaration!!  I may now have enough coin to finally purchase a craft certificate to begin my own armor & weapon smithing.

Two "bright lights of illumination" shed their sunshine of wisdom on my parched soul: Tegan and Cray.  The former had been my first "escort": the incredibly beautiful weaver took me on my first journey across Mistone (with initial urging from Ifion).  Now, she has suddenly appeared in Hlint and has graciously taken the time to offer candid analysis and clarifying options during a rather difficult episode with Ireth, Treana, AnnaLee, and others.  

As two sparkling comets crossing in the sky, Cray appeared "over the other shoulder."  After some very vague introductory queries, this distinctive elven priestess followed Tegan's lead by questioning my travails and isolating solutions to my dilemmas.  Exceptionally attractive, her wisdom dissected my quandaries with an almost unnatural calm confidence.  I pray with thanks to my Gold Dragon each night for sending these two remarkable females into my world.  Recently, I have certainly needed just such omnipotent guidance!

Oh, yes, I have received word that I might be able to aid my true friend and comrade-in-arms, Maev O'Leary, in her quest to attain the honor of Undead Slayer.  I am thrilled to be asked!  I know that Rofirein smiles upon such collaboration with any of Toran's noble knights!

Rofirein be praised ... my life is finding its true focus.

"The greatest griefs are those we cause ourselves."  Sophocles

[coachterry]

It has been too long ...
There is so much to remember ...
So much to ponder and to decipher ...
Passionate feelings and whirling emotions sweep my rational thoughts down
A myriad of passageways ... with different conclusions and finite destinies.

Returning home to my mother's druid grove
Was a necessary break from my most recent altercations.
I tried not to burden her with my conundrums; nevertheless,
Her wisdom shrewdly pierced through my feeble defensive mechanisms
Her questions dissected the causes and effects
Her thoughtful silences withered my confidence and my ego.
We talked for hours and hours ... and several days later,
I was a new man ... revised and resurgent.

Upon my return to Hlint, I joined a veteran group
Heading to Barghal to confront some giants.
I was unusually disoriented ... lagging further and further behind
Unable to access gateways and portals ... again, I became lost
And headed the wrong way in the Battle Fens ...
Under attack, I attempted a quick heal, and found it "unavailable"
Bolts riddled my body as I tried again and again to back out of this deathtrap:
But, I could not leave the area ...
I bled to death with them pummeling my prostrate body.

I suppose that I have been absent from the Hlint gatherings,
And things happen, and things change, and some things might be best left unsaid;
However, truth needs to stand forth ...
Silence is no answer.

My Dragon's visions have begun an alteration
From early on, my dreams have consistently been
With shield and sword, protecting a weaver from the charging hordes;
Now, the magic swirling in the air comes not just from the female behind me,
Rather, from my own hands, as well ...

I am not sure, yet, what this all means ...
I am not a smart man, but my instincts have often illuminated truth.
Now, I struggle to understand the implications
Of BOTH these events:
The turning of a block of Hlint's social cliques into mockery and shame,
And the subtle variation of Rofirein's calling to this faithful servant.

Change knocks on my door of destiny,
It is time to open

A new day is dawning.
Rofirein be praised!



"There are only two ways to live your life.  One is as though nothing is a miracle.  The other is as though everything is a miracle."                                  Albert Einstein

[coachterry]

Recently, my attempts at quests have been frustrated by a numbing disorientation.  Maybe I suffer from an odd form of flu or such?  

So, I have tended to observe society's ebbs and flows.  Possibly I would be much better off if I had done more "studying" when I first arrived, instead of just plunging in with (too) much enthusiasm.  Interesting what some folks focus on and seem to care about ... trivial items and callous remarks.  We are an odd form of animal, aren't we?

Met a fascinating fellow named Skabot Redwolf.  He is a natural weaver, like Tegan.  After some introductory banter, he suggested that I consider focusing some of my life as a bard.  While he is not the first to make that recommendation, it was the first time that I seriously considered the possible ramifications.  Interesting option: I do love to sing, and compose poetry, and learn historical legends and myths; nevertheless, if I do decide to wade into the weave, I think it should be "pure, natural, intuitive" ... like Skabot and Tegan.  Also, I am an adamant believer of Justice and Right to help Good prevail.  I realize chaos can be a significant factor in creativity at its finest, yet I do believe that society as a whole needs the nurturing order of Law to provide the foundation for all forms of art, science, academics, and charity.  

Well, my mother's wise advice still lingers in my heart.  I shall discuss these implications with friends such as Elgon & Robert and Maev & Tegan.  Perhaps some of their insights will bring this enigma into focus.  Only time will tell.



"People seem not to see that their opinion of the world is also a confession
of character."                           Ralph Waldo Emerson

[coachterry]

What an incredible night ... To finally have Treana see & comprehend my adoration of my chaotic weaver, Rhynn.  To hold her in my arms and calm her tortured soul.  To run my fingers through her "golden mane" and sooth her anxieties with promises and dreams.  To kiss her soft lips without hesitancey or guilt.  We have finally bonded.  After so much turmoil and confusion, she has used my stable, secure confidence to begin repairing her frantic frustrations.  I shall offer her a save harbor whenever her psychic ship gets tossed upon malevolent maelstroms.  I realize that her subtle insanity will cause her to stumble ... to disappoint her friends and to scar my heart with pain as she snatches Ilare's golden arrow out of my heart; nevertheless, I do adore my wild and willful weaver, and I will always be her Toy Soldier ... ready to step in front of crashing demons with my sword & shield or to provide her with a hug of comfort and care as her emotions bleed out her past pains.

Jennara calls me "an orc" because I attacked this Crimson Skull.  How passive am I to be?!?  Here we were in the Hlint park, some sitting by the trees flirting and others of us talking about organizing a "sweep" of evil groups ... when a phenomenon appears!  Huge red skull with black robes and a staff ... several people jump up ... and stand still (Mercas begins to cast a spell ... and never stops casting).  Rhynn has stepped forward from her group under the trees, so I draw shield and sword and challenge the creature to provide me with a name or what it is doing in Hlint, but no words sound from my mouth!  I encircle the creature to place myself between it and Rhynn.  I attempt to cast Endure Elements upon myself and then Magical Weapon ... nothing seems to happen.  Suddenly it says, "The trail is dead."  I now cast Turn Undead towards this creature ... again, nothing seems to occur!  Then, I take out a flask of Holy Water and toss it at the Skull ... again, nothing happens!  So, I step right up to it ... bump against it ... back away and bump again ... nothing.  No response, no reaction ... so, finally, I slash it with my bastard sword!
Nobody else has moved or spoken or reacted in any way that I could see.  And, then I was gone ... dead ... just like that, I saw my body with shield and sword flattened on the ground.

Finally, I give up ... I return to the celtic cross.  At least this time, I do not have far to go to find my grave!!!  But, can you imagine my surprise when I returned to the "crime scene" ... and nobody seemed to care!?!  There were quite a few more folks in the crowd, but as I went around asking actual spectators what had happened, what they had seen, why had they not done anything ... they all acted really stupid - as if they had not seen a thing!!??

Getting more and more frustrated by this "wall of ignorance", I turned to the one soul that I was certain would be candid with her paladin, and her response was,"Ignore it ... act like it did not happen".  Serious flashback time: once, not long enough ago, the soulmate of my life severed our bond with, "Get over it ... move on."  Hearing words to close to differentiate, I snapped ... tossed on my armor, pulled forth my shield and sword, and marched out the gate ... to kill ...to vent ... to rage against the absurdity ...

I worship my Gold Dragon.  He has called to me since my earliest youth.  I have followed his commands.  I have considered his suggestions.  I have resolved his conundrums.  I have lived his weave.  Now, I believe his essence is within me.  His whispers are both external ... and internal.  Either I am subtly insane, or I am a dragon incarnate!  Watch me fly!!!



"It is the preoccupation with possession, more than anything else, that prevents man from living freely and nobly."                                  Bertrand Russell