Author Topic: Journal of Gel'larian Windsbreath (Read 1622 times)

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #20 on:** September 25, 2006, 07:03:19 am »

I remember now why I hate wizards so much. Arrogance, abuse of power, and the definite belief that they are a race apart from all others. It disgusts me. Wow. It was bizarre having that be the first thing I have written in a long time. I have made so many travels and seen so many people that only the words of magic and song have meant anything to me lately. But lo! I have drank from Katia's cup until empty and still come back for more. The trees, the fruit, the animals, the scenery all have been inspiration for the senses.

My thoughts jump again... I want to be a leader of people, but I feel I do not have knowledge. Not like Jin Lun Lee. That man radiates wisdom, confidence and the fierce belief that he will not lead people astray. I will endeavor to bring similar qualities to the fore in my own person. In the meantime, I hope we can come to a decision about this demon soon. If we are to go to the Abyss, so be it. But I am very interested in destroying one who makes a mockery of life.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #21 on:** September 27, 2006, 02:42:55 pm »

I have re-discovered my joy of performance. I have not performed publicly in a few years, but then at the promptings of one Maple Cloverseed, I performed a song that wrote some time ago. The rush was exhilirating! Feeling the audience breathing along with me, the vibration of notes pouring through me, amplifying my contribution to the Harmony. It was marvelous. And to have my simple song inspire Roy to recite his own excellent poetry made it all the more rewarding. I plan to write more songs and perform again more regularly... Perhaps somethin in Dwarven...

I still feel a burning desire to aid the church of Ilsare in some greater fashion. I do not know what yet. Although I was vey disapointed by the reception I received from Ranewin. I would have thought a priestess of the Heart of Gold would be a little more enthusiastic about someone asking to further the the faith. I will just have to do it myself.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #22 on:** September 29, 2006, 07:43:39 am »

I travelled to the Great Library on Voltrex. Voltrex! It is half-myth, half heaven-on-earth. I thought that it was a guarded land but perhaps the library there is some sort of neutral ground. There was not a living soul inside and no guards on the outside, so they must be pretty confident of its safety. Anyway... There were more books there than I have ever seen in my life! Chamber upon chamber filled with the knowledge of the ages. Geography, theology, sociology, theurmatology... anything I could ever want to learn about. Except the Harmony. The source of all my magic. Why it has not been written about, or why Ilsare herself is not mentioned in all of those works astounds me. Perhaps I should write that book. I should deepen my knowledge of the Harmony if I plan to become the first great arcanist who does not use the weave for my practice. That would be a slap in wizard's collective faces. Perhaps I could even join the Arcane Alliance. Now there is an idea...

After the concert I felt compelled to practice my music more. I put a post in the Wild Surge, with no response yet. I saw a few other posts for those seeking mentorship, but with the same results. Has a sense of community left us in these dark times? I hope that the love that draws people together will always be cherished.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #23 on:** October 07, 2006, 06:58:55 am »

I took another trip to Krashin, and this time got to see the further expanses of the Black Ice Island. There is a signifigant Goblin Tribe living there, that rides Worgs to augment their atrength. They live in a massive cave-system which is riddled with veins of alexandrite and sapphire. Roy, Nixx, Tera and myself did most of the exploring after Mercas had to teleport back to Hlint to deal with some sort of emergency. But he is true and returned, along with Daniel Poetr, to us in time to bolster our forces and deal a crushing blow to the foul buggers. Despite Roys chidings, I managed to bring back a massive haul of gemstones and should be more than enough to improve my skills.

We also slew a young white dragon that was lurking around the island and had claimed friends of mine the second time I went to Krashin. If it wasn't for the magical storms of Nixx, we may very well have perished. I was honoured to have witnessed her talents.

Although I distrust and usually dislike Wizards, they can be very useful. Perhaps I should try and manipulate them more to my own ends...

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #24 on:** October 31, 2006, 07:09:40 am »

I have been travelling here and there so much that I haven't really had time to write so I will try to get as many recollections down as possible. I guess the irony of all this is that I haven't really been doing much. I have travelled a lot, I can say, with a great degree of surety, that I have seen all there is to see of Mistone. From Lar, to Gnoll Watch Tower, I have walked a great distance across this continent, and can say that it is as beautiful as it is varied. I found myself drawn to Lar specifically. Something about its seclusion seems so romantic. I am not one to throw in with those overly-rigid Dorandites, but with a few artistic touches, the Citadel of the Hammer could be a magnificent monument. And the Flaming Twins makes some of the best ale I have ever tasted. It does seem to have a large population of people that have come there to be forgotten, but everyone has a home, so who am I to judge. I can say with all honesty, that the Far Reach Mountains are the most terrifying place I have ever been. I was chased there by a very angry Satyr, and as I ran it got darker and darker. Eventually the darkness became so impenetrable that I could not tell north from south or even up from down. Worse than that, none of my magic worked there. At least, not how I intended it to. I wandered around, blindly trying to find my way back to familiar, and visible, territory when I felt it. This burning gaze that pierced even the inky black of this cursed place. It was a gaze filled with malice and hunger, and it was looking right at me, right in to me. I flew in to a panic in the face of such evil and frantically began running back to where I thought I came from. The whole time I ran, I could feel that gaze peeling back layers of my skin, burrowing down to my very essence. Then I ran in to something else. Another presence, another unspeakable evil. Before I had time to even draw my bow, I could feel something sharp slide between ribs. Not thrusted, but eased in to my insides, like they were carving a roast. The last things I remember before waking up in Hlint are the foul stench emanating from this new presence, that gaze standing over me, and that evisceration does not hurt as much as you think. I was saved by the grace of the Soul Mother, perhaps with a few kind words from my Lady, and have vowed to learn all I can about that cruel place.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #25 on:** November 13, 2006, 09:02:45 pm »

This is the first time I have written about this. It is a dark and foreboding event that weighs heavily on my heart. I stand and listen to an elf, I believe named Rain and a Female, whom I don't know. As they whisper about seeds, they take on a tautness, a readiness for the unexpected. I believe this is because they understand as well; I do not know how much they have heard or done, but the potential for change is immense.

The facts that stick out in my own mind are the Wild Child and Selian. What a Wild Child is, where it comes from and what it represents are all hidden from my perception. What are the consequences of giving this Child away to Selian? By all accounts she is an immensely powerful wizard who has a mind to conquering Mistone. Would she be better than Allurial, or more importantly, Allurial's heir, at ruling a continent that is in a Golden Age? I do not know, but I also do not trust Selian's reputation that I can give her the benefit of the doubt.

But I was warmed to hear the word getting out. That it is being talked about and cared about. I hope all involved make good choices for themselves and as they see the world around them. I feel that Ilsare will prevail.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #26 on:** November 20, 2006, 11:03:02 am »

I have had no further information about the seeds, but I have learned that Rhynn is decidedly neutral about the whole affair. A sad day that someone with such power to effect change should be so apathetic. I have taken up weapon-smithing, in order to get in touch with my dwarven roots. It is a very tough craft for someone of my physical stature. But I am learning more everyday and once again my patience will tell all. Perhaps one day I can return to Ulgrid's in honour as one if their great smiths. I encountered a halfling with a beef against elves for speaking elven. In my mind that is like getting mad at a bird for singing, but everyone has their own problems to deal with. I teased, provoked, cajoled, argued and reasoned with her and eventually Drogo and myself seemed to make her understand our point. Very satisfying! Then I travelled with a group of reckless sorts to Haven where I mined some amethyst and tried to keep the young and stupid sorts in line. It amazes me that even in the midst of an ogre infested, haunted mine, people will still not work together. I am for freedom as much as the next person, but that type of behavior will get you killed. After a brief rest, I went back to my weapon-crafting. If it weren't for Semli's flimsy picks I may have made more progress but I still managed to craft six daggers of copper. Hopefully, I will continue my successes. Patience, patience, patience!

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #27 on:** April 12, 2010, 08:24:37 pm »

**Gel'larian cracks the spine on a leather-bound journal of his own making. It is emblazoned with a spread-winged hawk carrying a rose and an arrow in its talons. He takes his quill, dips it in some ink and sits down to write amongst the hustle of the Wild-Surge.*

It is odd that fifty years seems not so long to do one thing, but the thing was so captivating that surely my mind and soul were transported by its beauty. The Breath of the Muse is like a second wife to me know I know her so well. The babbling brooks that kiss her foundation, the stone of her walls, immaculately burnished, her gardens, Prunilla's delight. I wrote more poems on a good day there than I had written in the previous century of my life. I owe a tremendous debt to Alleina: she introduced us after all, and the inspiration I felt the day Alleina and I spoke is something I can still draw upon.

It is even odder then, that after that demi-century the placid calm I felt should be so overwhelmed. How does sadness creep in to one, such as it did to me? I cannot say for certain, other than that all the time I spent in service and in observance of the world around me elevated my senses to something more important than the creation of beauty. How I should fulfill that service is a mystery to me, except that I knew the daily mediations of the Breath would not suffice. The thunderbolt of understanding smote my innocence about a world of pure beauty; I felt, profoundly, the destruction that has been visited upon every race on every continent, even hallowed Voltrex. It harrowed me, and I wept as suddenly felt compassion for those that fell to Sinthar, that were enslaved by Rael, that perished to Milara. But tears seemed vanity, and so I had to do something else. I left my sanctuary, and love was stolen from me a second time.

I again crept out in to the world, and was repulsed by what I saw, as if a surfeit of beauty in the gardens of Ilsare, made eveything else base by comparison. Or worse still, that I know saw the world for what it was: a house of suffering in which there is only one exit, death, by whose departure we are still not guaranteed repose. I heard rumour of a devastating wave, drowning thousands, of a war with dragons and cults of weak-minded fools. I felt compassion until those that I felt for, refugees, survivors, sufferers, tried to murder me for my boots, and then I felt no more compassion. I felt ire. I felt that I must punish those that corrupt this world, those that pollute it, that take rather than add to the wonder of my life. I understood that this is what I had been doing all along. This is why I swore vengeance on all orcs, not only because they stole my first love, but that they continue to do so.

So, I return to this world, to make an art of vengeance and a hobby of preservation. No one will know for whom I take my foes to task, all they will know is that I do, and that is their woe. Many will hear that a force to preserve and create beauty has once again risen, and they will cheer. I will listen to neither.

**He writes the last words and looks at them solemnly. Ragrian approaches and asks if he is writing a new play, to which he only winks his special wink. He closes the journal and picks up his guitar and leaving care behind for a while plays songs that remind him of quieter times.*

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #28 on:** April 14, 2010, 12:43:31 am »

So still they mock my loss. Orcs, orcs, orcs. Housing banditry, too cowardly to even make their thefts their own. My love, my love, why will they never have peace? Why must I always be the one to set their wrongs right. Do not take this badly my love, but I want to move on from you. You still hold me too tightly. A century if half-life, a century. I cannot bear it. But what shall I do? These orcs are the only thing that keeps your face clear in my mind. I can no longer write songs about you, I can't remember your smell, all I have left is the memory of your broken body. I can't let it go. I won't. It's killing me. I pray to Ilsare Az'atta every night for some mercy and I dont know if I shall ever find it.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #29 on:** April 15, 2010, 01:26:17 am »

**Walking by the Crimson Eagle Memorial, an idea blossoms in to Gel'larian's brain. He immediately pulls out his journal and jots down a few ideas.*
-Focus on the Music of the Harmony and connect with the arrow.
-Draw Al'Noth in to my connection with the arrow.
-Allow my singing to excite the arrowhead to an unthinkable state.

What will happen I wonder? I will try this, and see if there are any results.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #30 on:** May 11, 2010, 03:06:28 pm »

That Dark Elf was a bastard, plain and simple, filled with the arrogance of wizards and not concerned for a moment about the repercussions of walking openly on the surface. To make matters worse this filth repelled my attacks with such ease that I was as a baby and he a giant. My bow began to make dents but his clothing was made of some flexible metal and I made little more than scratches. His eyes mocking me are like a festering wound in me and woe be to the next dark elf unfortunate enough to cross my path.

Afterwards I was left with this ball of nervous energy. Not the usual rush of combat, something with more emotional weight. I felt as if Ilsare took the passion of my encounter and transform it into something creative. I tried singing afterwards, but it felt forced, like pants too tight. And so I left it.

My travels, took me to Whitehorn and Silkwood to gather enough materials to make a massive sum of oak arrows. On this trip I worked with the brave Azk'a. My bow and his axe were quite a compliment, and many goblins, kobolds and giant insects fell to us.

We had a little tag along as well. A naive moon elf by the name of SehKy. As fortune would have it (or divine will?), he also was a follower of the Heartsong. He was very eager to learn but I found he had more to unlearn. He was all books and rules and principles. There was no room in his life for discovery, inspiration and creation. I was quite hard on him, perhaps because he reminded me of myself (especially when I visited the Great Library), but his enthusiasm was more potent than his discouragement and he heeded me well.

This talk with him served me well because after talking about the simple ideas of creation, the tension I felt from my encounter with the dark elf burst like a dam. I think I made 3000 arrows in a manner of days, and all of them bore powerful runes that I merely improvised. They swirled in my eyes with Al'Noth and I felt within them the potential for the if ideas that came to me some months ago. These runes I discovered become more and more potent at the notes of my voice, filling with potent energy. I think once I learn how to escalate them more, I could cause them to explode, like a glyph of warding.

Surpassing that though, each of these arrows is like a child to me. They have their own unique beauty, each telling a story of my heart. I will maybe start putting together a collection of the most descriptive (if that word is apt), and show them in Hempstead.

I am going to journey to the Brech's today, towards danger I think. If these be my last words, then I want the world to know I may be found in an archer's range, and among the mountain tops.

In Ilsare's Eyes,

Gel'larian Windsbreath

*He takes his journal and leaves it at the temple in Hlint, instructing the cleric on duty to deliver it to Ulgrid's fortress if he does not return after 3 months.*

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #31 on:** May 14, 2010, 07:38:22 am »

I cannot believe my life. I have lived almost 190 years. I am still ambushed by the movement of the heart. She is beautiful. Those eyes should be commemorated in a painting to hang in the halls of emperors. Her lips are soft and sensual. She has passion and, evidence of her band aside, is a spontaneous and exciting soul. So whats the problem?

I know. I can't be a coward here as well. How can I tell her she cannot compare to a ghost? Should I even say I left my heart in the Gloom Woods almost a century ago? I am pathetic for even thinking these things. I am crippled by a love that ended in awful bloodshed. I am supposed to be free now, but I am chained to that time, a slave to memory. I have no exit, no recourse.

Perhaps this woman can quiet the ghosts for a time. Perhaps I can be something more than a shell for her. I will see where I go. Ilsare save us.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #32 on:** May 17, 2010, 02:41:34 pm »

I have travelled across the magma plains of Firesteep and to different threads, but this has been my greatest challenge. I can honestly say that Zarianna is like the epitome of Xeen. Pain and pleasure in one irresistible box. On the one hand, she is a beauty of rarity and exsquisiteness. A face and form akin to mist through sunshine: a marvel to behold, it's source, seemingly from the air itself. Her spirit is like an eartquake, unstoppable and moves me to my core. Her flaws make her more endearing too, despite her protests to the contrary. I see how she has been hurt and I only want to take care of her more. When she pushes me away, I want to run like the wind after her. And what a creative soul, every moment to be filled with something new.

But as wonderful as that is, alas, hearts do not mark forms or time, only feelings. My heart is raging amidst this new calamity. Sometimes I feel as if I am back in the Sillwood, Larina's arrow-pierced body dying in my arms. In fact, down in the caves underneath the forest of fogs, when Zari fell to the giant archer, she, hair golden, eyes bright, looked the same to my eyes and I could smell the birch that surrounded me and Larina that dark night.

What am I to do? I cannot live between two worlds. It is not fair to me, not fair to Zarianna. She deserves someone who can heal her; not someone who becomes enraged at her half-brothers harmless posturings. I need to say goodbye to my past, somehow. Otherwise my raging heart will consume us both.

She is brave though. To see her fight giants is an inspiration, for she is not Zakariem or Azk'a. And when the crack of magic emanates from her being I feel my own soul stirred. I feel the pull of destiny with her at times: how is it that she finds my broken body, on Krashin a thousand statutes from home before I slip through the stones and kisses life back in to me? How is that not proof of some divinity? Which is why I must find peace. I will make more arrows of beauty, instruments, and try and emulate the great Janice of Bands, and in to these arts I will try and pour my heartache. I know I can do this, I must be courageous.

The Heartsong is my own too.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #33 on:** May 19, 2010, 09:01:35 pm »

I am not certain of what to make of the events in that little town. Folks in Boyer Kingdom are almost dwarf-like in their labours. I am sure it suits them well but what is worse is there seems no place for diversion there. Well, they certainly diverted for a time. Next I see Stygian I might want to find out more. Play him though, try and get his trust back. There is more that needs be learned. I feel heartless saying that, seeing as he murdered so many of those townspeople but if it might stop him from some future evil, then it is well done.

What a terrible thing to witness. I have seen my share of death, but innocents always have the most horrible look on their faces when they pass. It is a reminder of how tightly we all cling to life.

Perhaps that coloured me when Zari and I returned to Fort Wayfare. I had already said my piece to the human Andrew, telling him to watch himself in the future. He said we should talk and when I saw him by the pond here I marched for battle and threw the first punch, metaphorically speaking.

Andrew disputed the truth of Zari's words which only made me madder and then Zari got involved. The intensity rose and I found myself, surprised as well, pushing him into the lake. Zari raged at my possessiveness and ends up apologizing to the boor! I receive scorn and he gets forgiveness. But what cut me to the quick was her saying was merely replacing her with Larina. I almost gave up right then. But then I would only have run from myself. And that is the awful truth. Because she is right. I did that. Again. I have to stop.

It is getting better, as I write this, I have been living in Leringard for two weeks and I have not felt the animal insde. But it is dangerous. Too dangerous. I am afraid that I might do something evil. I have to check myself. I did well with the Rorfireinite Priest, Daniel, who seems to have feelings for Zari. But I had giants to distract me there. Maybe I will use them to distract my rage. Unleash it there. That is something I can do.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #34 on:** May 26, 2010, 09:48:23 pm »

Why is it that one thing seems to go well and so another has to fall? In the one hand the connection between Zari and I has become even stronger. I was so happy to see her on the pier, the kiss we shared by the river may have earned us a passion band had a Nave been wandering by. I feel better about Raz even, although I am fairly sure he is messing with me. She even said she loved me! Yes she immediately regreted it, yes she denied it later, but what a step forward! I can't wait to see the next day and the next. I can't wait to see Ilsare heal our hearts.

On the other side is this SehKy. Blast him. I offered my help, a way in to Ilsare's light and all he can do is say, "I can't sing like you!". Can't he see it is not about his song, but about his heart. Ingrate! Why doesn't he get it? Doesn't he know I want him to discover the beauty I have found? Discover the pounding in his chest when the Al'Noth connects him to the world? Maybe he doesn't know. Maybe I can't get through. Maybe I should not try. Zari will know.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #35 on:** May 27, 2010, 08:34:02 pm »

In the sea of events the last week, I don't really know where to start. Zari? Voltrex? The Soul Mother? It all feels as one thing, one happening. I learned something about the power of family. I miss mine, I never thought I did but I do. Deeply. I thought I had one with Larina, but more and more I realize how young I was when I was with her. How much I was learning, and not giving back, how immature. But now, lying on the shores of Lake Corax, I think I have found a new family, to protect and learn with and create with. But most importantly love; I feel asnif the thaw on my heart is diminishing in the light of her golden eyes. The freedom that Larina promised me, I think I must now take myself. And I must. Bonds too deep were promised on Voltrex and after Alazira's testament of faith. I must not fail her. Ilsare and all her manifests. I must fly true.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #36 on:** June 03, 2010, 05:47:24 pm »

Giants have become a door of woe. I was caught by the stones well enough and then spent weeks, how many I know not, composing "The Desert's Dirge". Inspired by the pain and suffering I come to expect nothing less from the children of Grannoch. But I vow to put an end to that. I already have been learning of the Forest Giants, when they sleep, where they go for water, there breeding times. The Desert Giants will be tougher. I must find out when they will go to which oasis, when they follow what hunts are to be had in the Great Desert, but I am long lived, and I will know my enemy better than it knows itself.

But leave the filth for now, a few days after I tatooed myself, Zari got back home. And with her arrived all of the doubt and insecurity I felt in the Forest of Fog. I do not know if she is scared of me some days, or if it is my own fear. It is tumultuous, but I love it. She is still the most exotic and intoxicating person I know. At once vulnerable and uncomplicated to fiery and overwhelming. And then she gives me such gifts! The ability to say goodbye to my parents. I never would have done so without her. I hope I can be a fraction of that to her. That would be a good life.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #37 on:** June 05, 2010, 04:40:50 pm »

I look at this band on my finger and I can scarcely believe it is there. I knew I had commitment to the Muse, but to actually receive a portion of her wisdom is something I never would have asked for. Feamsil is someone I hope to work with in the future, hopefully once I get the Company of the Muse active. I hope he can display the works we find until the centre in Hempstead is built.

The passion between Zari and I almost has taken on a life of it's own. There was the rage and revelry at Feamsil's villa first (I think we owe him a new furniture set). The more I feel the fire in her blood, the more alluring she becomes, the deeper I love her. I hope she feels the same.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #38 on:** June 06, 2010, 12:56:26 pm »

I have spent long weeks stalling the giant kin of the desert. Their intelligence and community affinity is quite strong. All the more surprising that they are so aggressive to the outlying communities. Their migrations seem to pattern around a network of oases, the silver mine and the ancient dragons den. They often raid communities near this circle of influence as much for supplies as sport. They are talented at hiding their numbers as they trek across the sand; using leaves to bruush their tracks, walking in single
file, but I can now tell wind patterns from leaf brushes and the subtelty of their weight impressions. I have been watching the more advanced in age too, to try and ascertain what the weakest parts of their physiology are, so that I know where best to land my arrows.

In my restful moments I found my thoughts drawn back to my visit with Zari's parents. It baffles me that they do not see more of the strength in her than she warrants. They vaguely condescend to her and hide it behind a mask of remorse, duty and nostalgia. I caught them whispering about her more than once and they gave me the greeting a wolf might get dining with deer. Perhaps it is their simple life, but they do not understand the strength of my word; a quality that dwarves often criticize my race for. So, as marvelous as it is to see where Zari learned her effervescence, and where she strengthened her aversion to "swear jar" activities, I was glad to be gone. Mostly because I could not take her having to hide her heart from them any longer.

I suppose it is my turn now. I'll have to make some warm clothes for her.

gilshem ironstone · « **Reply #39 on:** June 08, 2010, 08:46:47 am »

And it was such a nice day. Nothing ruins it like someone concussing you because you were drawing two foot long arrows away from the others. I never liked her anyway, Dot. Hewing corpses? Occasionally spitting I might do, but to try and spill more blood than you already have demonstrates a certain emotional instability that is dangerous. How can I get back at her though? She is obviously a more skilled warrior. Perhaps I should just let it alone and time will present my opportunity.

I am starting to get some momentum in my research in to lost artworks. I at least have some titles and descriptions to go by. Nothing yet to give me locations, but progress is progress. The stolen statue that Zari told me about is intriguing. If it can bring some optimism to the dreadful Vehl atmosphere then I am all for stealing it back. I am going to try and find out more.