Journal of Gel'larian Windsbreath

[gilshem ironstone]

Original Biography here.

[gilshem ironstone]

I have so many thoughts that I meant to get down over the past days... where to begin?

Hlint!  What to make of this strange town!  Never have I seen such a conflux of people.  I am getting ahead of myself.  What to make of this strange incident with the dragon.  That a creature so majestic would deem to summon me to a quest so lofty seems a blessing, but I may rue that assessment befor my life ends.  I had heard whispers of the name Bloodstone, but now I am being asked to become a primary motivator in the resistance against him!  I would happily give my life to defend the natural beauty of Layonara, but there is still so much for me to learn.  Physically, I am not even an adult and must train myself to have the supple physique of a great elven warrior.  Mentally, I must gather lore from throughout this land and become a wellspring of knowledge on matters arcane, political, social, geographical, etc... Magically, my talent is just starting to take shape.  My lack of formal training in weave manipulation is an asset, I believe, allowing me to practice new and surprising forms of magic, but that will take creativity, practice and thought.  It will be a long time before I face Bloodstone, but it feels like a worthy cause.  The legendary patience of my race will serve me well.

Back to Hlint.  No sooner had I arrived than I found myself under the wing of a group of experienced adventurers.  A most excellent elder dwarf, Xain Stonecutter, reminded me of my friend and mentor, Glack; Jeremy Steele, whose martial skill and tactics bear the grace of Ilsare's favored and, of all things, a wizard.  A wizard!  One of those whom I thought I could not trust, but when I challenged her on her art, showed none of the disdain that my teacher's had for me.  A most excellent group to foray with.  Joining me were Amnan, a young monk with whom I shared my vision of the Dragon, and Jeremy Buckley, an ostentatious bard whose art seems to pay homage only to himself.  But Ilsare allows beauty to shine in many ways.

Together, we stormed a goblin encampment and temporarily decapitated, oun intended, their leadership.  But for the leadership of Master Buckley, we may have perished.  His knowledge of tactics is unparalled in my experience and under him we dealt a fierce blow to that tribe.  I have little doubt that the vermin will soon re-swell their numbers.  

In that excursion I saw people fighting with magic weapons for the first time.  Not only were the blades they wielded of exceptional make and quality, surpassing that of even my dwarven brethren, but they imbued their user with a remarkable grace and confidence.  No doubt the work of the enchantments on the weapons.  It leads me to think that if I could use my magical talent to create that grace and confidence inside myself, I might imbue a sort of magic to my own weapons.  I will explore this further.

After the goblins, we camped, and I engaged the wizard (what was her name?!) in a brief conversation on the metaphysics of magic.  As we bantered, not only did I find myself respecting what I had previously reviled, but also revealing the intimacy I had only ever shown to Larina.  Forgive my heart Larina!  It was like ripping a scab off a festering wound, and as soon as Amnan, Buckley and I re-entered Hlint, I unceremoniously left and spent the next days binging on dwarven ale, to quell my demons.

The past conquered for the moment, I turned my attention back to the external world and sought trials to hone my skills.  The town quatermaster enlisted me to keep the tide of already replenishing goblins at bay.  What a beleagured town that they have a goblin breeding pit less than a league from their gate!  I wonder if there is a permanent solution?  With the help of a vengeful brownie and the well-timed reinforcement of an elven arcanist.  We defeated a strong scouting party.  I realized I had learned a great deal about firing my bow in close quarters recently, I also found a bit more personal power in my magic and have tried to duplicate two magic effects that I have seen: creating a protective arcane armor around myself, and creating a burst of sound to knock my opponents flat.  We will see how that works.

I camped again, and my brownie companion fled in a flight of fancy that all fey are prone to.  Then a remarkable party arrived, led by a the most intriguing woman I have met in a decade.  Veluccia is her name and never have I met someone with such a cold, malicious exterior with such a good, vibrant soul.  She must have endured great pain in her life.  I am not ashamed to say that the archer of love nearly hit the mark when I met her.  I engaged in some good-hearted banter with Veluccia, leaving her with a promise to make her laugh.

I then set about some private practice.  I endeavored to find a mystical connection to my bow emulating that of an enchanted item.  Not much success, but target shooting while tapping my magical musical abilities is most soothing and provides me with great clarity.  As I wrote before, patience will be paramount in this endeavor.  I must write more often.

[gilshem ironstone]

I have decided to give a concert at the Wild Surge inn.  I can think of no better way to not only meet potential friends, comrades and allies, but to also expand my magical talents through touching music.  I hope to write a poem to Larina, a drinking song to the wild surge and a short comic piece dedicated to Vellucia.  As I wandered the town musing on this idea, I encountered the bard Buckley.  I do not know why, but I asked him to join my concert.  He said yes but has shown no real commitment to the idea since.  I then encountered Vellucia again sitting and listening to group of adventurers talking about experiences beyond my scope right now, as well as the price of diamonds.  I sat next to Vellucia and managed to engage her on the nature of the heart and she was surprisingly open to the topic.  Perhaps there is a person of warmth trapped within the ice queens body.  After that, I went to my room to jot some thoughts for the concert and crept in to a blissful rest.

In my dreams I had a vision of a bow of surpassing beauty.  It was made of exceptional quality, and could also be strung as a harp.  When I fired it, I could strike a note that would cause vibrations that made the very air combust!  A fanciful dream, I suppose, but this is what I hope my magical talents develop in to.  I believe I will start with the crafting of my bow/harp.

[gilshem ironstone]

Today was a day of recognizing how far I had come and how much further I had to go.  I spoke with the undertaker, sent a chill up my spine, and he asked me to retrieve the essence of a lesser darksoul from the crypts.  I agreed, not only to the quest, but to not ask too many questions about this task.  The undertaker seems to be a good man, but why would he need something so foul?   I found help in the crypts with the aid of an excellent "sneak" who knew the lay of the land.  Together we cut a path through the crypts and achieved our goal fairly easily.  I was pleased to find how far my skills with the bow had come.  After our excursion, Ferrit sold me an exquisite cloak made from Black Panther Hide that blends remarkably well with shadows.  A beautiful mantle that I will wear in all situations.  She also shared some basics of crafting with me, which will be valuable if I want to create my bow/harp.  She was a lovely companion and I hope to encounter her again.  

I discovered, much to my dismay, that the protection spell I wanted to cast, requires some sort of material fetish, a piece of cured hide.  Even more frustrating was that I could not purchase the hide anywhere in town, nobody had some I could buy and I am not a tanner.  Perhaps I will focus my abilities on ways of connecting with my bow, so that I can find the magical fusion I desire.

[gilshem ironstone]

I was asked by a travelling merchant to remove the most recent goblin overlord from power.  It would prove to be the most difficult task I had been faced with yet.  Before I get in to that, however, I must talk about AnnaLee.  A treasure of a soul.  I first encountered her in my latest sparring match with Veluccia.  I will be ...ed if I don;t become fast friends with that fiery-headed woman!  But I digress.  AnnaLee, who is a companion of Vellucia's, was courteous and kind from the first moment I spoke with her.  The second time I met her was when I was trying to recruit able bodies for my goblin rampage.  We began to speak of her relationship with her close associates, I am loath to call them friends because I understand so little of their life, when she unfolded a most miraculous tale for me.  It seems a lady bard has usurped the gateway to Pandemonium first, and Celestia thereafter, and I will be a dwarf's mother if she does not try for Baator next!  Such power-grabbing is extremely dangerous to the fate of all Layonarans.  Why the gods themselves have not intervened is beyond my comprehension.  Regardless, in the unfolding of her tale, AnnaLee won my undying affection and loyalty.  In her I see a compassionate heart, and a quietly provocative soul that can lay a path for salvation, to the benefit of all, good or evil.  She possesses a singular wisdom that expresses itself in a reluctance to judge and a reticence to polarize a situation.  She has inspired me to write a poem for my up-coming concert that I hope will flatter my subject and rally the undecided masses.  We shall see.

After my conversation with AnnaLee, I shot my bow by the pond and found a burdgeoning connection with the arcane.  I found that if I felt my bow-pull as a measure of musical time, then my targets seemed to enlarge, and effortlessly, I found more force in my arrow's flight.  It was a fickle feeling, sitting on the periphery of my consciousness, but palpable nonetheless.  I then digested and pondered all that I had learned from my short days in Hlint.  I am proud of my discoveries but long to fond a group of companions to call friends.

[gilshem ironstone]

After a couple of days of unsucessful writing for my upcoming recital, I decided to tackle the goblin question once again.  I found a group of companions quite easily this time, they were going to mine, and I to vanquish.  Not a likely combination, but happenstance is what it is.  We were followed in to the caves by the faerie dragon familiar of an arcanist who had overheard our plans.  I thought it inoccuous at first, but then, while waiting for one of the miners to coleect her ore, I cannot remember her name, I felt no real connection to her truth be told, I tested out a line about AnnaLee and the riders aloud to myself.  The faerie dragon, whom I thought was enlivening, began chirping with messages from his master about a "he" that was captive in Baator.  This information stayed in my mind for the rest of the excursion which was quite successful due to our aggressive companion Aryx, the Wemic.  The company departed, and I went to the Wild Surge and pondered what this new revelation might mean.  Is the guardian of Pandemonium, a captive of some foul devil in Baator?  Or was this cryptic and elusive arcanist referring to a different party in the struggle?  Or am I an innocent and passionate mind seeing connections where none exist?  I resolved to speak about this with AnnaLee the next time I saw her.  It preoccupies my thoughts, and I cannot find time for magic or art.

[gilshem ironstone]

After a day plagued by possiblities of cosmic importance I decided I needed a distraction.  I walked around Hlint and eventually encountered the town treasurer who had lost the town tax ledger.  She asked me to discreetly recover it from the sewers where it had been taken to.  I entered the sewers and found only retched odors that made me nauseous, nauseous like a cave full of sweaty orcs, and vermin.  I was so distracted by the smell that I did not notice the spider that delivered a venom, paralyzing me.  If I can say one thing truly on this plane, it is that dying by vermin mauling, is a most unpleasant way to die.  I found myself in a lonely place.  Lonelier indeed than the Sielwood after the death of my beloved Larina.  Thankfully, Ilsare deemed my time unripe, that I had more beauty to discover and create in this world.  I was sent back and I thought I should take a proper rest.  I spent the next day praying to the mercy of Ilsare, singing and shooting my bow.  I felt where that place of magic that could make my archery mystical should be, but I suspect my death and rebirth, understandably made me weak; too weak to tap my spirit with proficiency.  I feel honoured that Ilsare would send me back, my task unfulfilled.  It made me feel as if I can achieve anything, or that I should, I am not sure which.  My strength returning I went for a walk to the fishing pond and found AnnaLee there.  I told her of my experience with the Faerie Dragon, which only led to more questions.  I decided that I must find the elf that fed me this information and question him personally.  AnnaLee continued to intrigue me in her demure and humble fashion and I finished talking to her with a jump in my step and a song on my lips.  I decided that I would go to the sewers and finish what I started.  This time I was surprised by no spiders, and wended my way deep in to the undercity.  I came to a large chamver where I spied from afar what appeared to be a rabid half-rat, half-man feasting upon undisclosed animal flesh.  He sent a shudder up my spine and decided that I would return in force to confront this creature.  It was late when I stumbled in to bed and I dreamed of magic profound, songs ethereal, creatures of darkness, and AnnaLee.

[gilshem ironstone]

I met with nothing but frustration on my latest visit to the undercity.  The door to the Ratman is locked, spider poison infected my blood, not a good day.  I did get to practice a new fighting style that I call the pendulum.  I have two sheaths for my long sword, one at my waist and another at my back.  As I shoot my bow, I quickly draw my sword on the follow-through and bring it in a wide-arc towards my enemy, what results ia a clumst swing that is quick and allows my melee to involve both symbols of elfdom.  I am very proud of my accomplishment.  I am weary from the days journey and will be getting quite drumk on fine dwarven ale now.  Good night.

[gilshem ironstone]

It has been a most interesting month.  After a week of intensive practice with my bow, I can now feel, every time, the aracne connection between myself and the flight of my arrows.  It is still just a sensation, rather than a manifestation, but I am very excited where this will lead to.  Brimming with confidence I made another go at at finding the Ratman of Hlint, who I feel has become a personal nemesis.  This time, he was lacadaisical with his defenses and after a hard-fought battle, I vanquished him and returned the "misplaced" tax records to Florah.  Not only was I handsomely rewarded, (perhaps a gift from the taxpayers of Hlint)but I also had an epiphany.  I realized that the incantations that I had been practicing were of little everyday use to me, so I abandoned their practice.  Instead I plan to focus on deepening my understanding of healing magic and also creating dweomers to enchant weaponry.  I believe that in this dangerous world they will better aid me.  Especially, understanding how to enchant weaponry will aid me in my quest to make my everyday archery arcane.

I took a short jog after I delivered the tax records to take in the majestic stars, to rid myself of the stench of the sewers and to relieve some of the adrenaline from my fight with the Ratman.  My jog led me to a group of very interesting people.  Angela Swann, a crusty wizard whose name I forgot, as I desire to forget his bitterness, and Siloon.  Angela is a generous and sad soul who I wish happiness hereafter, but all the group fell away from the radiance of Siloon.  She is a vibrant, funny, intelligent and beautiful priestess of Xeen.  We both share a talent and appreciation for the arts as well as a levity of spirit.  We spoke long, sharing stories about ourselves, and when I coveted the beautifully crafted instrument she possessed, she invited me to her home in Fort Llast, with the promise of an instrument for myself.

It was a frolicking journey to Fort Llast that reminded me of being an elf in the mountains seven decades earlier.  My heart swelled as we chased each other, playing children's games.  It turns out that her "home" is a forgotten attempt at creatting a cafe and performance space in Fort Llast; in light of the militaristic doldrum of that place I feel is a stellar idea.  She showed me a fine collection of instruments and I chose a wonderfully resonant acoustic guitar.  I shared an elvish song I had written during my sojourn in the Sielwood and she was moved to tears by its sadness.

We then proceeded to imbibe large quantities of a spectacular vintage of Xeenite wine that she herself had brewed.  Together we shared stories of our journies, conspired to make her theatre functional and made a wonderful conspiracy.  It seems that Siloon has made a light-hearted enemy of a cook, named Kali, at the Leilon arms, and in a fashion peculiar to women of all races, wants to take revenge starting a quarrel between Kali and the gentleman whose affection both Kali and Siloon desire.  It would require me to become a spy, as well as apprentice to a talented bard, both of which sound like a tremendous amount of fun.  I will have to make up my own mind about Kali when I meet her, she may be innocent, but it is quite difficult to deny Siloon when she bats her eyelashes at me.  We sealed our deal with a toast, I would have preferred a kiss, and the hour being late, parted ways being filled with pleasure at discovering a new companion.

I was so inspired by my meeting with Siloon, that I sat under the stars that night and composed a beautiful song to Larina.  I spent the next week practicing  and fine-tuning the piece for my up-coming recital at the Wild Surge.  I then took a leisurely journey back to Hlint in preparation for my concert.

The day of the performance came and I was sweating bullets.  Would anyone show up?  I had invited many people, and my notice had been up for almost two months, but I am a relative unknown yet.  I was crushed when there was no one awaiting my performance, I almost gave up music then and there, but every great musician has his setbacks and I performed for the drunkards anyway.  As I performed a small group of travelers came and went, and much to my surprise, thoroughly enjoyed my song.  I must say my rehearsal payed-off, as it was a moving performance.  Feeling somewhat vindicated and much more hopeful about the next concert I give, I strolled in to the sunshine of another glorious day in Hlint.  Radrian, the house Bard of the Wild Surge asked me again about her necklace, still missing, and was very distraught about its loss.  Moved to pity, I promised to have it for her within a week.

[gilshem ironstone]

My promise made, I immediately set out to find a companion to take me to the dangerous parts of the Sielwood.  It amazing, but even though I spent ten years there, I never felt any threat within its eaves.

I quickly found a kind elven ranger, who did not much appreciate the comedy routine I have been working on, but was a fast companion nonetheless.  Her combat prowess was most impressive and we quickly won the day.

Returning to Hlint, I noticed the resident of the famous Witch of Sielwood, and should very much like to visit her one day.  Perhaps she can give me advice on how to achieve my magical goals.  I also ran in to Angela Swann again, and she gave me a most generous present.  A fine suit of iron scale-mail.  I am not proficient enough with armors yet to wear it properly, but with some more experience, who knows?

I returned Radrian's necklace and she was extremely grateful, both emotionally and financially, and then I took a brief respite where I practiced and, much to my delight perfected not two but three new incantations!  I learned how to temporarily imbue my weapons with a minor enchantment; unfortunately it does not work on my bow or arrows, the quest continues.  I also learned how to heal more grievous wounds and I created a glamour that can make people respond to me more favorably.

I took my new magical knowledge and applied to my magical/martial efforts with my bow.  I feel as if I have plateaued for the time being but I will continue to refine my efforts.  Patience I believe is key in this endeavor.

Then the travel bug hit me.  I had always heard of the splendor of Port Hampshire, and the beautiful monuments there to past battles.  I set out to see them for myself...

It was a tranquil journey filled with many sites natural and manufactured that filled me with inspiration, especially Blackford Castle.  I have never seen a palace of such opulence!  And filled with masterpieces of art such as I have never imagined!

I finally arrived in Port Hampshire and was amazed at the size and beauty of the city.  While there I became a certified craftsman and decided to take up some new hobbies.  Tailoring and gem-making have been the most fruitful, but I hope to one day make a suit of Panther leathers to match my stately cloak.  My stay in Port Hampshire was relaxing and enlightening.  I hope my exposure to such culture will improve the quality of my song-writing.

After this journey, I hit a patch of bad luck, followed by some very good fortune.  Travelling back to Hlint, I met AnnaLee with a mage named Mercas.  AnnaLee, who I was elated to hear has put the pandemonial horses behind her, recommended that Mercas and I travel together.  I was up for anything at that point so I agreed.  Bad move.  We travelled east of Hlint where I believe the gods saw fit to do me ill.  We were ambushed by a group of elven brigands, they called themselves rangers but I am loath to attach myself to such unsavories as these, when time suddenly froze.  When next time moved, I found myself with a poison arrow sticking from my chest and was quickly whisked off to the halls of Ilsare.  Once again my lady deemed the time unripe for my soul to rest and sent me back.  Praise be to Ilsare and her wisdom!

Short days after I was reborn, Mercas took me on another suicide mission.  We returned to the cave in the Sielwood to find gems and ores for our crafting when we were besought by an overwhelming group of goblins and kobolds.  I should have known that wizards are no good.  When I came to the void again, I could swear I heard Ilsare chuckling at me.  Some cosmic inside joke.  At this point I did not think it too funny.

I was returned to Hlint with my proverbial tail between my legs and was chatting with Dulan, one of the few sober patrons to take in my concert when I received a great piece of fortune, literally!  A dwarf asked if I had a robe for sale, which I did having recently completed my first passable garment earlier in the week.  He asked to purchase it and pulls out an enormous chest filled with gold!  There must have been close to 100,000 crowns in it!  I told him he was crazy, but he told me to mind my good luck.  Sage advice after my recent experiences.

I put my money in the bank and decided to take another trip to Port Hampshire and then on to Point Harbor eventually to reach Fort Himlad so I can deliver that letter the Post Master gave me.  The sooner the better.

Port Hampshire was as beautiful as I remember, and I learned some tricks for making parchment and sandpaper.  Necessary if I want to make any wood objects.  From there I took a boat to Point Harbor.  I love the sea!  The wind, the brine, the whales!  I could live on it I think.

I arrived in Point Harbor and as I explored I began to realize that Hlint is really just a small provincial town, with the good fortune of being a crossroads for many interesting people.  I walked around soaking in the sights and found my way to the famous Freelancers.  I discovered that AnnaLee works there!  She is so wonderful.  I spent many hours talking woth her, and discovered that she is very in love.  Good for her, but I can't help but be a little disappointed.  I secretly hoped there was a place in her heart for me.

Then I struck out east towards Fort Himlad, travelling through the Dinen Forest.  Quite beautiful but I spotted some more unsavory elves.  I am now in a glen in the Belgaer Hills hiding.  Ilsare knows why, but there are a group of Raksasha's prowling nearby.  I spotted them when I crested the hill and am hiding for the time being.  Wait!  I think I hear something!  I will write more later.

[gilshem ironstone]

Those foul demons must have the extraordinary senses.  I was trying to circumvent them as quietly as possible when one of them looked up, directly at me from a hundred feet away, I must have stepped on a twig.  The way they started casting I knew I had to run.  I tried to go back around the ridge, but the demons were faster and the next thing I knew, I was roasting in a conflagration of fire.  Again my Lady of Love found it in her heart to send me back.  Does she want me to be the next Harper?  Time will tell.  I found my way back to the Freelancer, and AnnaLee felt just awful about sending me on a wild goose chase.  I told her it was not her fault, but she insisted on getting me to Fort Himlad, safe and sound.  She is such a kind and tender soul; I really appreciate the friendship we have developed.  Even if it can never be romantic.  I feel a tremendous love for her.  Sure enough, we arrived with the help of some spectacular illusions, and then I bid a fond farewell to AnnaLee, as we both returned to our duties.  As soon as I left her, I found a tune for my next song springing to my lips.  Sort of even-paced, like riding a horse.  I woked it out on the boat to Hlint, and decided to write a song about my first visit to Rilara.  It is going to be very light-hearted and I hope to sing it at the Freelancer.

I returned to Hlint and continued my obsessive practice of Arcane Archery, I can now drive my arrows in to the bullseye almost every time... And halfway up the shaft as well!  I don't know if that is a result of magic creeping in to my practice, or just the practice itself, but either way my bow now brings me as much comfort as music does.

I then locked myself up inside the Wild Surge and spent a week writing my song.  I am very happy with it, I think it is going to be a huge success at the Freelancer.

I then decided to venture out for some more supplies for my crafting.  I met with an opportunistic young human and Quilius and we ventured in to the Sielwood.  I collected some spider silk, malachite, and deer hide.  I was very excited by the gem-work I did.  Not only did I cut and detail some excellent stones, but I prepared some of them with a magical dweomer.  Who knows where this could lead.

After some variously successful creative attempts, I made my first instrument... I am not very good at curing Leather... I delivered another letter for Postmaster Vale and then decided to journey in to The High Moors.  I wanted to find the witch who lives there and find some Willow'the'Wisp essence.  As is my habit, I died.  Perhaps I should employ a bit more prudence and solve my loneliness at the same time by travelling with companions more.  I almost feel whole again, so I will write more later.

[gilshem ironstone]

The past few months have passed in a state of relative peace.  As much peace as can be found in this world.  I wonder if this war against Bloodstone is to blame for all the dangerous elements I encounter, or if it merely represents the constant battle for balance in this world.

I have filled my time trying to create things of beauty, for that will be my legacy to overcome the darkness.  Jewelry, instruments, clothing, arrows, oils, gems of arcane value, all these things I have made to bring some light to the world.  To show how the Harmony plays between my soul and the songs I encounter.

I have had success, but still my heart yearns for that ultimate... To have someone to share my own heart with.  Someone whose own song is a symphony of exquisite splendor.  But she may already be gone... No Dragon's promise to bring her back...

And archery.  I think of it as a way of tuning the strings of my spirit.  I now find a tremendous calm when I shoot.  It requires patience and deliberateness, but it connects me directly with the Harmony of Life.  I can now hear the notes my bow plays as I pull back the string and release its symphony of concordance.  I can see my arrows punctuate and break musical phrases.  It is marvellous and humbling.  I have still have no claim over mastery of connecting my arcane talents to my bow, but it is the same process, I am sure of it.

I have also met a kindred spirit.  His name is Tahless, and he shows an elan and exhuberance for people and adventure that I have not seen outside myself.  Every step with him is a pleasure and we learn together what it is to be a hero.  I am so joyed to have found this person.

[gilshem ironstone]

It has been far too long since I have written, you could learn more about my life these days from my Tradeskill Journal...

My heart seeks a constant companion, but yet I have none.  Why does my life always find me in surprises.  I suppose that is Ilsare's way, to reveal beauty when it is least expected, so I shall be content with myself.  I have tried journeying around the continent more and found some new and interesting places.  I love the squawking of the Kenku, they are almost like children.

I feel great strength in myself, as if my connection to the Harmony of Life is coming in to balance.  It is very exciting as I can start to hear the connection between myself and others.  Sometimes in larger groups I hear wonderful harmonies and dissonances, and most wonderfully, actions between people can resolve these harmonies or dissonances.  It is a tremendously powerful music, and I find I am moved to my soul by its sound.

I will continue to try and become a master craftsman, archer and songwriter, but all these things need performances.  Time to seek some danger.

[gilshem ironstone]

In my dreams last-night I was walking through Hlint surrounded by all the heroes of the age.  Ozy, Ta'lan and many faces I did not recognize... And everyone had a line of light extending form their hearts to every other heart.  The strange thing was that these lines were made of sound.  They didn't make sound, they were sound incarnate, and I felt their notes deep in my soul.  I basked in the un-music of these notes for a long while, performing some strange and melodious dance when an elf spoke to me.  I did not recognize her but she had red-hair, res-armor on and a shield with Ilsare's crest.  And this woman said to me slowly, like I was stupid, "Resolve these lines".  Then Ta'lan turned on me, his eyes blazing and fired an arrow at me.  Before it ended my life I woke up.

[gilshem ironstone]

I recently traveled to my home, the Berhagen mountains, I was filled with memories, both sad and happy.  I felt a confusion about my life I had never felt before.  I had, for a long time accepted at face value, the words of Glack to me considering our differing heritages.  He said, "I am not saying that we are right and the Gray elves were wrong, but Gel my boy, you must always consider that there are at least two-sides to every story."  These words bounced through my head as I stood on the aeries that I remeber from my youth.  So many years!   I am not yet an adult yet I have lived so much!

It was then that I felt a warm-hand on my heart.  It made me weep for joy.  I looked out across those snow-capped peaks.  In the distance I could hear the voices of those dwarves that taught me so much, about loyalty and honesty, about skill and ambition.  All these things that define who I am.  And so I recognized the hand of Ilsare upon me, and recognized that it was my life to love, my past to cherish and my future to yearn for.  I have loneliness yes, but I also have companionship.  In the songs I sing that bring me strength, in the magic I play from the Harmony itself, in the few friends that I would die for, even if they might not.  I have Larina, whose spirit lives on still inside my soul and I have a beautiful and prosperous future ahead.

The archer never misses, but hits that which most needs to be pierced.  Praise be to Ilsare!

[gilshem ironstone]

A few weeks back, my good friend Tahless and I went with Bumblebee to seek some adventure.  We decided to go to the Haven mines and it may have been a typical story of rash adventuring youths being killed in an ambush, but for one small detail.  We were killed in an ambush by a group of viscious ogres, and we sought revenge with the aid of two fine women from Hlint.  Treana Min E'Zoenna and Addison Scarlace.  Treana I know from previous experiences in Hlint but Addison was new.  Afterwards I pored through my memory for a long while and realized that I had seen her before and that her face was quite accurately depicted through all those memories.

If I though Jeremy Sttele was an accomplished man-at-arms, he was but a whelp before Addison's prowess.  She glided through battle as a swan and cut with the ferocity of a tiger.  She had grace, strength and intelligence flowing through every step; she truly was a marvel to behold.  But beyond that was a strange phenomenom that I picked up on as we moved deeper in to the mines.  I was as we performed a pincer attack on a group of ogres and I backed up Addison's flank.  I began to perceive what I can only describe as a sound.  A music.  I could not hear it, it was on the borders of sound, but it was distinct in my heart.

As I focused in on the battle I began to feel that it coincided with each of Addison's mighty strokes.  And as I began to take in her fighting more clearly I realized that the chords she played took on different qualities depending on how she fared.  Bright and harmonic as she locked in struggle, dissonant if she were pushed back on her heels, mournful yet triumphant as she inevitably vanquished her quarry.  I understood that one part of the chord emanated from Addison herself and was changed by the experience she was having in battle.  The second emanated from her opponent and was similarly changed by its experience of facing such a mighty warrior.  But the third part of the chord is what interests me most; it came from her weapon which is clearly laden with enchantments.  I could hear no such music from the ogres weapons so I must assume that it was the magic of the weapon that played the note.  This note was always changing but ever resolving the music of the two fighting in to a chord and the music was what seemed to represent her strikes, they are what pierced the souls of the ogres and told them it was time to go to the soul-mother.

If this is true, it may explain the dream I had and the cryptic message I received, "Resolve these lines".  This music I can assume emanates from the Harmony of Life, and represents a part of that grand symphony.  I believe that this may be the final piece of the puzzle in my quest to imbue magic in to my archery!  If I learn to hear my own song, and hear my targets song, then as I fire from my bow I can play a note from my bowstring that will create a chord that may give my arrow something like the power of Addison's sword.  It is a testament to Ilsare's beauty that a bow, her weapon, can also act as an instrument in the symphony that she conducts.  This is very exciting and I hope that my future practices will yield fruitful results.

[gilshem ironstone]

All this practice and what?  An un-sound that buzzes in my ears and a thousand arrow-shafts to replace.  I know I am on the right track, so why do my arrows not fly with the sureness of the Archer of Love behind them?  Perhaps my heart is untrue.  Perhaps it is my  dwarvish obsession with crafting that Ilsare and Dorand are arguing about in the planes and so Ilsare does not shine favor upon me.  I am at a loss.  I will lay down my bow for a time and purify my soul with music and song instead.  And those steady labors that the dwarves taught me so well.  I will let that rest with the patience of my race.

I traveled today to the aerie outside Haven to rest and relax.  I looked up on that pale sky, shrouded in ash and I heard the cry of some ancient beast locked in a mortal combat high above me.  I wept.  I cried as I did the day my mother was murdered in front of me and for the life of me I do not know why.  I felt as if a golden hue had been blended with many other magnificent colours and in so trying to make many majesties one, all that was left was hazy, muddled grey.  Perhaps it is my frustrations with my magical pursuits, perhaps it is my un-luck with love, perhaps it is because I cannot see the fair skies where Larina's spirit looks down on me, I do not know.  I do know that something escapes me, something is slipping away.  A treasure of this World's history.  Ilsare, grant me the wisdom to see what beauty need be preserved and that which forgotten, will yield a growing light and understanding.

[gilshem ironstone]

It seems to have started with that expedition to Raven's Watch and Black Ice Island.  These thoughts that began growing in me that day on Haventop, were somehow purified, as if in a crucible, in my mind's eye.  That day on Haventop, looking out at a bleak Mistone in front of me I felt a great loss.  Loss for a world that may never be reclaimed.  The scars and wounds of Bloodstone's ambitions may have marred Layonara irrevocably.  But the frost that was put on my heart in Raven's Watch changed my grieving in to hope.

I looked out on that ever-dark land and, pulling my cape tightly around me, saw the dimmest silhouettes of mountain peaks and icebergs dancing together.  The sounds beyond sound that I hear Ilsare playing are quieter here, simpler, unimpeded by grand ideas.  But there is also a tone of beginnings.  As I imagine the sun, coming over the head of the islands, as I am told it does for short periods of the year, I feel as if the world were seeing the sun for the first time.  That creation was begun in this place.

I marched on with my companions: stout Tahless, true-friend, Gruwlz, honest and brave and Amellia, silent and austere.  Gruwlz, being a native, led us deeper in to the islands until we reached a place he called Wolverine Camp.  It was clearly a grave, perhaps inhabited by a tribe of humans at some point.  When I see the boat, Tahless tells me that we are going across the icy waters to an island populated by magic-wielding kobolds.  I shiver not for the piercing wind, but also at the thought of cruel reptilian faces screaming their spells at me.

We arrive at the other side and the wonder that I felt when I first landed on Krashin was replaced with horror.  Before me was a place where only death can live.  Vicious, dark ice, with razor-sharp crystalline spikes jutting out of the earth.  I closed my eyes to listen and my frost-bitten ears could make out over the howling wind a hissing song welcoming us to the island.  We steeled ourselves and began a march as briskly as we could.  We soon learned that the ice was not as stable as we hoped and had to slow our pace considerably, only amplifying the numbing of the winter cold.  Our progress was steady, we made for a group of mountians towards the east end of the island, and were left unharried.  We spotted a massive polar-bear a couple of miles off our course but it was mostly a taut quietness through our trek.   We reached the foothills before nightfall, found a lee and Tahless lit a fire.  That night as we rested and ate my fire-thawed trout, Gruwlz told us grand and harrowing stories of his time here.  He spoke of battles between his heroic ancestors and armies of these kobolds.  How his people came to be feared by the kobold sorcerers.  And hidden whispers of a marvelous, glittering cave the sorcerers guarded.  As I slept, and Amillia kept her vigilant watch, I had dreams of demons and angels clashing on a field of slate, and of currents of magic rising up from below.  And finally, I saw pale serpent coiling and biting its own tail.

Upon wakening I was left with an ominous feeling inside of me.  Upon reflection, I realize that what I experienced was the other face of that hope I felt first arriving in Krashin.  Not despair, but the grimness to push on, knowing that there may be no hope.  I say that, but it could equally have been Gruwlz's stories of these kobold's gruesome treatment of prisoners, and their song that I was catching clearer wind of the closer we were to the mountians.

We set off in to the foothills and then our ascent of the mountains followed.  With Gruwlz leading we came to a mountain pass that was guarded by stakes with polar bear skulls on them, clearly someone, or something considered this place theirs.  But Gruwlz seemed unconcerned, or unaware of that fact and plunged on, maybe even quickening the pace slightly.  

I am not sure exactly how the ambush happened, but as I recall, through the memory of bloodshed, there was a group, twice our size, sweeping on us from all sides and the air was filled with the sound of the weave being channelled.  I began to sing, drawing the Harmony on my friends and myself as a gust of wind, propelling ourselves eagerly forward to battle.  Picking out the first un-sounds I heard I let fly my arrows, trying to feel how supplely I should draw the string.  For all my practice in this unorthodox way of firing, my aim has not suffered, indeed it has improved.  My bow and I sang a harmony of battle as I aided my fearless companions to win the day.  Gruwlz and Tahless, sustained considerable wounds, and after some immediate first aid we , we made one more march before camping and our march led us down in to a hollow wind-filled basin, with the sea on one side and the cruel mountain-peaks on the other.  As I tried to block out the thoughts of my numb feet and the pain of frost-bite on my ears, I thought of how marvelous it is that these mountains are so different in aspect to the Berhagen's.  These are sharp where the Berhagen's are round.  Here I cannot hear the cry of the eagles in thier lofty aeries, or the ring of the gem golems in the vales far-below.  There is only wind and darkness here, and a fear growing slowly in my mind, and the hollow song of the kobolds.  I did not know what it was that I feared, but I sensed it lay across the valley.  We plodded blindly ahead, not talking much, stumbling occasionally, until we saw a cavern-mouth maybe a quarter of a league ahead.  We quickly found a lee within sight of the cavern, lit a fire, and made our plans.  We had learned that these beasts are skilled ambushers and so the plan was to give surprise to us.  I would go in first and silently and when I spotted a group I would signal the size and disposition of the force.  We would prepare ourselves, magically and otherwise.  Then Tahless and I would launch a volley of arrows at them, drawing them towards us.  Then Gruwlz and Tahless would charge in with Amillia knifing the kobolds to minimize their spellcasting.

Our plans set, we rested, and made the short march to the cavern.  We entered warily and quickly found that no light reached this wretched place.  I used the Harmony to bring light to my heart and seeing the cavern in detail made me retch.  Corpses, of animals and kobolds alike, were strewn everyewhere, all in varying levels of decay.  The inhabitants waste was everywhere.  And from deep inside I could hear them laughing their horrid laughs and that dark beckoning song.  We steeled our nerves and at a sign from me we entered in to the depths.  I walked concealed, and ahead of the group for a ways until we met resistance.  A group of four kobolds sat hunched on the floor, garbling in their hissy language.  I told the group what I saw, we prepared as planned and then unleashed hell.  These kobolds are much fiercer than those in the Sielwood, but we swept them aside, with only Gruwlz taking a nasty arrow in his thigh.  Healing his wounds we pushed forward, feeling the tenseness in the cavern increasing as the kobolds further in, begin to feel a rumour of death sweeping their home.  And so it was, that we came to the very bottoms of the caves, meeting resistance but never concentrated or organized enough to slow us.  In the lower levels I discovered a dream come true.  A vast chamber that seems to be some sort of practice room for the kobold's to practice their art, and running through the walls in vast veins, some as thick as Gruwlz's arm, was raw Alexandrite!  I now have a limitless source of this gem that I will eventually be able to use to channel the Harmony in to enchanted rings and amulets.  Truly a blessing!  I took a small sample so that I could confirm that it is pure at a crafthouse.  But much to our surprise there was little else.  For all thier dominance on this island, the kobolds appear to have no real social structure and certainly no treasures they are hoarding, except the gems of course.

So we made our way out of the cavern, having driven its inhabitants away for now, and set back for the boat.  As we crested out of the valley, we ran headlong in to a raiding party of about ten kobolds which we quickly dispatched with our superior abilities and tactics.  We passed out of their territory, and as we marched back the way we came I noticed a narrow pass through some mountains that I had not seen before.  Our curiosity and confidence got the better of us and we decided to investigate, perhaps alo a small measure of greed at whispered promises of riched to be found.  The terrain rolled on, one league unremarkably like the last, when I felt a stillness come over my soul and that same fear creep back in to my heart.  I told the group to stay still, and as I scanned the horizon I spotted a small blur of movement, I walked a little further to see if I could make it out when I heard a commmotion behind me.  I turned to see my companions being assaulted by the massive polar bear we had spotted days earlier.  My bow quickly began to sing and the bear was overcome by cruel hews from Gruwlz.  I ran over to see if everyone was alright and when that was confirmed, I turned back to where I had seen that blur of movement.  It was gone.  Not it had darted in to the air!  It began moving towards us rapidly and soon I made out something out of legend.  A lizard, perhaps fifteen feet long, with great pinioned wings, and glistening white scales!  A white dragon!  I had seen Red Hatchlings on Dragon Isle before but this was something else, more mature, more powerful.  It had definitely seen us and we quickly formed up, cast every protective and enhancing charm we knew.  I passed out my last three flasks of Alchemist's Fire and then hell broke loose.  The beast descended on us like a fury.  Its laugh caused Tahless' knees to buckle, and it came down and breathed a killing breath of the coldest air I could imagine.  I began to lewt my arrows fly, but they couls no more pierce its skin than a carp could build a mountain.  It swatted mightily and it became very apparent very quickly that we would not survive if we stayed.  I gave the order to run and fled, but my companions could not hope to escape.  I prayed that the Soul Mother would judge them unripe and leave them in this world to live another day.  I also prayed that I coudl escape this nightmare.

As it turned out, both my prayers were answered.  I returned to Leilon, to find Tahless, Gruwlz and Amillia standing together.  I greeted them, inwardly feeling that sinking sensation I feel whenever I see that ghostly image.  They all agreed they needed a rest and they deserved it.  So off they went and I was left alone.

Looking back on it all, the sights and sounds of that journey will stay with me forever but it si what I learned that is the greatest treasure.  I learned there, from the savage kobolds, to the lonely poalr bear to the mighty dragon, that a living creature's ability to survive and be vivacious even in the most horrid of circumstances, if unmatched, and that spark that drives life to move forward is what will bring Layonara through this dark age.

[gilshem ironstone]

I travelled back to the gem cave on Black Ice island, I hoped to be able to attract less attention than before and use that to vanquish my foes more easily.  But I found that these kobolds will require me to have a bit more power if I am to tackle them by myself.  Still I find almost all my waking thought sto be of those veins of Alexandrite.  I will harvest it!  Or die trying.

[gilshem ironstone]

These were the strangest days I have had, and the most exciting.  Joined by my friend Tahless, we sat on the mountaintop by Haven, contemplating the world unfolding before us when I heard a sound that would change me forever.  A piercing hawks cry split the air fromk high above, but such a call I have never heard before.  Filled with fear, sadness and desperation it was.  At first it seemed trivial, but as we returned to Hlint, the cry continued to pierce me, and by the time I was at the familiar benched, all my pain that I had hidden away inside my heart came pouring forth.  Larina's face pierced my mind and I was overcome with a desire to help this creature.  And so Tahless accompanied me as I tracked it across the continent to the druid encampment in the High Forest.  As we tracked I began to wonder what this hunt foreboded.  Was this another reincarnation of Larina?  If so, how would I contemplate her return, or possibly losing her again?  Or was this a spirit sent by the gods to teach me some lesson to make myself a better person?  Or perhaps it is simply a symptom of my perpetual solitary wandering, causing me to find a reason to feel needed by someone else?  I did not know and it drove me wild with excitement and fear.  We raced across the land and when we did arrive at the grove, I found a red-tailed hawk in obvious distress.  After some effort, I discovered his mate had been captured by Bug Bears in the foothills of the Grey Peaks.  My heart swelled with pity, knowing full well what it is to have a mate stolen by barbarous forces.  I vowed to erradicate these foes and set off through the forest, trail-blazing as only a ranger can, images of Larina flying through my head.  And then I heard the most remarkable sound of my life.  I have heard sound and un-sound but this hawk, in the depths of love and pain, uttered a cry which revealed to me that all my instincts on the nature of th eHarmony were true.  It uttered a sound so perfect that it revealed to my ears the Harmony itself.  These thoughts clearly clouded my senses because Tahless sensed the presence of the Bug Bears before I did.  I regained my composure and I scouted out a group of trainees which we trapped and crushed.  We then moved further in to their compound where there was a champion and some wargs.  Again we lured them in to our web and they fell, although after considerably more resistance.  Then I felt the air electrify and espied a shaman surrounded by heroes performing a gruesome sacrifice.  The victim, the lady-hawk I sought.  We laid hasty plans, feeling as if time were of the essence, and launched our attack.  Over-hasty is what we were for the fierceness of these creatures quickly overcame us both bound us and healed us, grumbling that they would eat healthy meat.  I watched desperately as their ritual continued, and I unable to stop it.  Tahless and I tried every ruse or trick we could muster but the bastards would not bite.  I could feel the lady-hawk's mate, high above, imploring me to do something, but I was filled with despair as I saw the agony in the lady-hawks eyes, and I was powerless.  But then, whether through dumb-luck, or divine providence, I care not, Nixx, a pixie sorcerer, and Roy Aynsworth, a ranger, happened upon the scene and slew the Bug Bears mid-ritual.  I was still dumb-founded as Nixx's spell shattered the steel cage, but the sprayed shards of metal reminded me of my task.  I ran over to the hawk and quickly determined that she was held fast by some elaborate shield spell.  Dispelling would not work, as surely as steel would fail.  But then through instinct I stumbled upon a solution: to use my experiments with the Harmony of Life to break the spell.  I began to sing and implored the hawks to join with me, to sing of their love, and to use that connection to each other, bolstered by my arcane talents, to shatter the shield.  It was a gruelling process, I called upon every fiber of my being to give my music potency.  But nothing seemed to be working.  The shield would become something corporeal, not of the weave, but of this reality, and then revert.  All the while the strength of the hawks and myself ebbing away.  I lost myself in the music, I sang for hours, blocking out all around me, willing myself to sing notes I have never hit before, but still we faded.  I was pulled back to the moment when Larina left me, the anguish, the fear, the hollowness and still I sang.  When I was at the moment when I felt blackness creeping in to my consciousness, I felt a calm come over me.  I had no strength to resist what lay before me, and my actions will have a profound effect on my life.  I found myself pulling my bow from my back, keening an unearthly sound, almost beyond sound, and nocking an arrow.  I could feel every texture of my bow so enormously: the grain of the oak, the tautness of the spider-silk, the resistance as I pulled it back.  And then I felt something else.  I felt something akin to a current along the string, all blackness fell away from my sight and I could see the bubble with sharp clarity.  The scintilating colours, the semi-solid structure my song had created, before me in slow-motion.  With a twang that was of the un-sound I sought, my arrow flew towards the shield.  At the moment of impact, there was a bright flash, and I collapsed to the ground.  My companions rushed to my side, healed my wounds, and when I raised my head, the bubble was gone, the lady-hawk was gone, instead there was a vision of beauty, with angelic wings, holding a bow with the man-hawk flying around her head joyfully.  I came up to her and kneeled, believing her to be Ilsare herself.  She bade me rise and thanked me for my effort, explaining that she was a "humble archer", wounded while polymorphed and unable to regain her true form.  She gave me a magic arrow as a token of her thanks and flew peacefully away, the hawk crying his thanks as he left.  And there I was, left with this arrow and another gift.  I was filled with the knowledge of the Harmony and how my bow was a conduit for it.  All I had to do was explore its power but I no longer needed the key to unlock it.  It was now a part of my soul as surely as my other magics are.  Weary, but filled with a quiet contentment, I journeyed back to Hlint.  On the way, Nixx explained that she too had been tracking the man-hawk and that was how they happened upon us just in the nick of time.  I laughed at the co-incidence, but secretly I think it is divine providence, that Ilsare, at least for that short while, had me in her sights.