Loose pages in the spellbook of Yardislan

[Rayenoir]

*written in a clearly practiced hand, with quite a lot of shorthand abbreviations mixed in (expanded to normal text for ease of reading)*

Due to a sudden abundance in parchments available to write upon, I no longer have to devote scroll blanks to taking down nonmagical notes.  With this new freedom, I've decided to record some thoughts here, that they do not dwell in my head any longer than necessary.  This shall be the first entry, though this formality may break down over time.

I've recently felt myself grow closer to the Lord Protector... to the point where summon spells, a practice that I long eschewed for distaste of drawing a celestial creature to take pain for me, call upon animate shields of the gold dragon.  I find this greatly preferential to the former, as the shields take damage and eventually fall apart, but absorb much more punishment and do not feel the pain that a summoned creature would.
Though I find myself hesitant in drawing closer... I believe strongly in the protective impulse, but I fear that Rofirein is too focused upon the law of the land to see that sometimes the law must be passed by for the sake of the greater good.  I try to adhere to the common structure as often as possible, but there are some times where it just holds back what really must be done.  Despite what the dogma says, I believe my brother had a valid point in stating that those with pockets too heavy for themselves and yet unwilling to share with those who need it should learn to hold better to their valuables, lest they be taken away and given freely.  A very cavalier attitude, which suits him... though it got us into many disagreements; he's always been a rebel even since we were very young.

Shileth.  I often wonder what has become of him, though I have no doubt that he's making quite a name for himself in whatever land he found himself in.  When I see him again, I know he'll have stories to tell me, as I have for him... I pray that he will have a home to return to when he does.  Perhaps he'll return just in time to help strike a deciding blow against Blood, just when he is needed.

Daren and Jil are expecting.  It feels as if their wedding was just the other day.  I always smile thinking of the two of them.  Daren, the closest friend I've made since arriving in Hlint after seeing the vision of the dragon.  Jil, feels like the younger sister that I never had.  I wish nothing but the best for them, always.  They've contributed so much to my learning, I only hope that I've done the same for them, or can with time.  I sometimes worry about them, what Jil will do when Daren eventually must pass on, as humans do.  He's not nearly old yet for his kind, but I have witnessed bits of his being snatched away to the plane beyond far more times than I am comfortable with.  At times, I fear that despite the magic of the bindstones to protect us, the chosen by the dragon to stand against Bloodstone, he may yet be lost to us before his time.

My studies are advancing far faster than I ever expected them to.  The constant use of the magics has expanded my mind beyond anything I could have imagined when I opened the first scroll to read through.  Surprisingly, there are scant few of the arcane-minded that bother to reproduce their spells in a format understandable by others.  I do my best to collect and redistribute knowledge that I feel should be available, but even with my efforts, some spells escape the common grasp.  Then again, regarding other spells, I am glad they only go so far...

[Rayenoir]

Not long after finding myself in the little town, I ran across the card emporium.  A welcome distraction at times, one's life cannot be all fighting and training.  Time for leisure and refreshment of the mind and body is vital, and this game called Creatures is one of the most entertaining sources of both that I've found.

Rafaela, obviously of Celestial heritage with her snow-white wings, is a regular in the card shop within the Wild Surge tavern.  Learning the celestial tongue is an ambition of mine, though one that ordinarily falls to the wayside in favor of other things.  I've often asked her whether the potential for me to learn the language of the angels and archons is there, but she always just shuffles her cards and starts a new game.  Perhaps if I offer the stakes of a copy of the mythical Jysirael versus her spending some time to teach me, but no matter how many times we bet for ante and I win yet another Jysirael card, she never seems to run out.  I think I should either find a better challenge to offer, or find out what I can really do for her.  After all, learning a whole language takes time and effort, and I should return the favor fairly.  Acacea is evidence enough of the former.  She still has trouble with some elven words, but she tries very hard.  Which is probably the reason why she has such mastery of it already, despite her few years.

Writing of cards, Aleister... I miss the man at times, a human, yet a true Wizard.  Venerable for his kind when I met him, I did not realize they were his last years until the near-legendary deck was placed into my hands with hardly an explanation, he passed on of old age barely days later.  I still remember the first day when I outmatched him twice in a row... Since its coming into my possession, Cole says I've "done him proud," that I deserved to be given such a gift.  Since this is my repository of thoughts, I feel no reason not to boast, that I have rarely lost a match with Aleister's deck.  Clearly well-constructed over a long period of practice and analysis... having played against it so often, it was as if putting on a pair of well-worn gloves.  I already knew the style.

[Rayenoir]

I begin to grow weary at my recent ability to summon Rofirein's shield guardians.  As I mentioned previously, I find myself bristling at the dogma.  I know I am not of the clergy, and as such am not required to follow it as strictly, but nevertheless... it seems as though my priorities lie upon a differing path.  I find that the pursuit of the best outcome for all stands above the letter of the law, even while structure often leads to that greater good.

I have been doing some readings upon the faith of Aeridin.  Shileth always said that I was probably best off pursuing it, as he claimed it suited my temperament better.  I considered his words, but sought Rofirein for the protector ideal.  I believed that it was more to our adventuring goals.  Aeridin is focused upon life itself... but sometimes decisive action must be made, despite that it may do harm... I hesitate to say it, but sometimes one must hurt a little in order to prevent much more hurt later.  A tree that is not pruned *will* go wild.  And some things cannot be saved... to grant mercy, life to one of Blood's minions is to strip life from those who would later be struck down by the wretched one to whom mercy was shown.  Where is drawn the line?

*Yardislan sighs before he continues writing*

Some would point me to Toran, believing his ideals to support parts of both of the above, but I fear that Toran is too strict.  It's as if when one is a proper Toranite, they're constantly wearing a girdle of metal:  never able to breathe for fear of losing their virtue.  Focusing so hard on the right path that it may escape them.  I do not believe I could follow Toran.  I do however, afford healthy respect to those who do so successfully.

This is the first I've recorded it on paper, but I have been considering withdrawing from any faith, for a time.  To clear my head of all of the tenets and ideals and decrees...  Perhaps it will give me a fresh view.  For now though, I continue to grasp Rofirein for the great Gold's wish to protect this world, to see it prosper.

[Rayenoir]

*the writing on this and the following pages on the subject is less precise than the previous, as if gripped by barely controlled anger, which fades back to the normal, comfortable style by the end of the entry*

Illithids.  Wretched creatures.  The bane of all who would manipulate the weave, for they prefer that taste, or so I have read.

Investigating earthquakes south of Velensk, we descended into the earth through a tunnel, and found them behind legions of umberhulks.  I was, to use Daren's word, shocked at the seeming cavalier attitude toward the final one.  We slew our way through those who stood in our way... and I was proud.  Mind flayers have no place in this world.  Every meal one takes is one more person who dies suffering, thus their very nature is to spread pain and misery.  Those they don't consume, they enslave for more vile purposes.  How can anyone not want to stamp out their evil?  Nevertheless, we stood, staring at the apparent head of the spawn, while it taunted us.  We were capable of destroying it, but there were those who questioned why we shouldn't let it live.  How?!  Sin'Dolin first among these... he had the ability to kill the thing alone, but instead decided to stand by impassively, and tease and insult those who were themselves slain when Sahala alone showed the will to strike it despite its obvious seething power.  How could he do such a thing?  To bear such knowledge and squander it when faced with the chance to do right.  Leaving an illithid alive just spells your or someone else's future pain and death... it's a wholly irresponsible choice.

I do not like to kill when I do not have to.  But illithids are a plague, not a creature.  A plague that must be cured.
*he sighs before continuing again, his writing relaxing slightly*

Daren, I'm afraid, is shortsighted.  I had to apologize for lashing out at him within the tunnels, as I said things out of anger that never needed be.  He wished to leave the thing to live.  I questioned whether that was a true act of a follower of the Redemptress.  It wasn't until my apology that he explained his logic.  "Everything needs a chance to be redeemed, even if its eventual failure at its chance is inevitability."  The latter half of the sentence were my words, not his, but it was the same idea as he expressed.  I just fear how many will die and suffer before he would find the creature again to exact his "punishment" for its failure.

Is it truly more honorable to give something a second chance, even though it can never make proper use of that chance?  I do not think illithids can just change to eating fruit...
What would those enslaved or killed say, if they were face to face with a person who could have saved them from their fate and did not, deciding to give the mind flayer "one more chance?"

I find myself wondering what the will of Rofirein or Aeridin would be in such a case.  I find myself guided to the path of less suffering for all, by both gods.  *his writing smooths more noticeably here*  Something from that venture leaves a bad taste in my mouth.  I'm not sure whether it is the fact that my allies were so hesitant to deal with the mindflayers... or that people dared claim that those who wanted to strike the things down bore bloodlust against them.

[Rayenoir]

Are all human sailors the same level of foolishness?  Mist is a callous, deranged goddess who seems to care not a whit for the well-being of any but her clerics; unless they beg for her assistance, she gladly sinks their ships for her own amusement.  I know this personally, I have been on far too many voyages that have turned sour due to Lady Doom's madness.  And yet they continue, in the face of such abuse, to revere her.  I cannot understand how they would turn to such a deity, when Shindaleria is present as a better choice.  She stands for all that is good and can be appreciated of the waters... when a ship capsizes, as I've learned, Shindaleria would send helpful, calm waters to support those who pay her respect.  Mist is likely the reason it capsized.  It makes no sense to me why any would turn to the latter, except out of fear.  

I believe I begin to understand why Alantha prefers to travel by portal...

[Rayenoir]

Many things have happened since I have written here once again.  I should have written much sooner, as some of the emotion associated with these events has faded.  I shall, at the very least, write them as I recall them now.

Alek, of house Dower of Velensk was not only enstated as the rightful heir to the title, but corruption amongst the ranks of the temple of the Lord Protector there was also routed successfully.  A change of clergy was made, and the head healer, Holas, was brought to justice.  He actually proved to be some aid in our finding of those behind the attacks on Alek and Lady Dower, though it was little alleviance to the magnitude of his crimes.  With this rebirth of Fort Velensk, I found my faith in Rofirein strengthening once again.  Perhaps it was speaking with those of similar faith, or perhaps my view of "protector" has coalesced in my mind.  These events gave me a view of what justice really should be.  I find it hard to believe that the priests and paladins would chase after those who were bending or skirting the law in the name of good, whereas they firmly dispense justice to those who truly deserve it.  I suppose I was fearing the former too much.  I believe it is the principles, the spirit behind and not the letter of, that is meant to be.  I believe I understand this about Rofirein better now.
I know that many of my kind prefer to abandon structure, fearing that it gets in the way of a person's path in life.  I find myself adhering to my original plans, as I knew long ago what I wished to be.  Sometimes I fear that such planning draws me away from my chosen ideal... a paradox in itself, but I find greater joy in my works and my ventures every day, despite what we face.  Our victory in Roldem gives me hope.

Speaking of hope, after months of pregnancy, Daren and Jil are proud parents.  A more loving father and mother I have not known save my own.  They named me godfather of the child, an honor that brings a smile and pride.  I wish them many happy years.  *Yardislan pauses to sigh aloud*  Though I realize that Jil and I will long outlive both her husband and their child should the dangerous courses of our lives not claim us first.  I prefer not to think of it, but thought it best to record it here.

New things abound in my life lately: new mastery of magic has placed itself in my grasp as well.  I can call upon what many call a greater "circle" of magic, though I prefer not to use that convention of naming myself.  I've reached the last range before my scribing will require something known as a "Lucinda's Touch."  With that, I feel I should turn back to my martial training and focus more upon it for the time being, as though I have not left it to neglect, I have not improved upon it in some time.

Not all of what I record can be good, unfortunately.  Prior to our victory in Roldem, a group of those known to me ventured to Xantril, and the Demon General Xandrial has as I understand, left the plane and Blood's War for good.  This would be a glory in and of itself, and it is... though some things shed darkness upon that light.  With their commanding officer gone, the demons have scattered throughout the lands.  Occasional strikes upon towns such as Hlint by loose pockets of fiends have occurred.  I fear for those without such knowledge of magic as I have.  For those in the villages and cities who do not have at least one of those "Called" to defend when they are struck.  This is not the only concern that plagues me.  I saw Ozymandias outside the Wild Surge of Hlint scarcely a week ago.  He had a very intent look about him, moreso than ordinarily.  He said he was thinking, thinking of the Bloodwar.  I asked him why, and it seems that Xandrial's vacating stirred up things within the lower planes.  That there may be a demon inspired by this change to open a rift... a rift to the Prime Material.  Here.  Unlimited demons pouring through from the unknown layers of the Abyss, with so many ripe, defenseless souls for the taking... it literally sickens me to think of.  Ozy himself can hardly imagine the scope, and he claims to have spent several thousand years observing it.  His words trouble me at times.  He speaks of wishing to maintain the status quo, to keep the war boiling.  While I have no argument to his keeping it off this plane, at the very least... his methods concern me.  He spoke of being willing to commit grave crimes to maintain the balance; that too many celestials present would have as harsh an effect on our reality as fiends.  I find that difficult to believe, and one can never trust him too thoroughly or be dragged into his manipulations.  I wonder whether I myself am currently a part of a machination to maintain the Blood War.  Perhaps his telling me of the rift that he fears, knowing that I would do what I could to prevent it, is a move in and of itself.  But that being the case, what else can I possibly do?  Ozy troubles me... though in his deceit and games is more knowledge and experience than possibly any other upon Layonara.  To reach into this hornet's nest is a risk that I fear I have to take, for the good of all.
I do not wish to diatribe upon the planes or Ozymandias any longer, but I must record one more detail.  He spoke of a dark evil within Elysium itself.  I can recall no more specifics, and this perhaps is one reason I fear his ministrations up on myself:  He spoke of planar layers being effected by their inhabitants.  How a layer of Arcadia was lost to Mechanus.  That being the case, I fear Elysium, bastion of primal Good itself... could lose a layer to one of the lower planes.  I cannot think of what such a catastrophe would bring.  I only pray that the evil spoken of does not grow large enough that such a thing comes to pass... or that if it grows, it can be stopped in time.

I hate to leave this on such a wretched note, so I ask any readers of this after me:  Refer back to the beginning of this entry, these most recent pages.  There is hope among the suffering, the fear.  There is light yet among the dark.  Even among the dark, the light can be restored.  We reclaimed Roldem, despite some of the worst Bloodstone's army had to offer.  The deepest dark was wiped from that land.  Operation Blood Fall, as named by the Mistone Alliance, was a success.  I have written a letter to the Ministry of Magic offering my further services, due to what I see as a lack of arcane prowess among the land soldiers.  I will do what I can, what I must to aid our next strikes.  
This war may yet be won.  I have faith that better days are yet to be written upon these pages.

[Rayenoir]

*the next few pages seem written with a tired hand, the letters uneven in places*

Never before have I had to put so much into the work of scrollwriting, but it seems to have been worth it.  All of the resources that the Freelancers put at my fingertips to prepare for the strike, I made the best use of that I could.  Stone itself is utterly crushed... everything recognizable on the surface no longer exists.  Those gnomes still trapped in the temple have been freed from their rocky refuge, taken away from what might have been their final resting place had we not slain our way through Milara's troops.  

I truthfully had not expected so many scrolls to be returned to me at the end of the battle.  Nevertheless, quite a number were used just the same, and considering that the handful of our numbers that were struck down were very swiftly returned to their feet and back into the force, it was a success.  A significant number of those irrevocably corrupted by Bloodstone were brought down, sent on from this life.  We wished to hold the foundations, the bare rock that stands now where the proud little town once did, to show our defiance.  I would have stood with Quillwem and the others until we were overwhelmed, but at the last moment before the reinforcements in the form of an army of giants arrived, we made our retreat the way we came, back to Point Harbor.  
Our purpose was fulfilled, our statement made.  We shall not let a slight such as was seen here, at Stone, go unanswered.  Our victory in Roldem already bearing fruit, the lands being rebuilt, our efforts are shown to have effect.  Our stand at Stone is simply another element to add to a growing number.

Let us hope that this trend continues.

[Rayenoir]

Much has happened since last I wrote.  Generally, this is the case, but moreso this time.  Most notably prior to this writing, Pandemonium's Guardian had been... adjusted.  Rather, a madwoman had taken the position, and all had shifted out of the usual array.  The horses of Urges, as I have come to refer to them myself, had selected riders from among my friends, and had ridden on to Pandemonium to make things right.  Not nearly so simple as that, of course.  However, simple enough that the events are still clear in my mind.  Ireth seems to have grown.  Taken as the impromptu "leader" of these unfortunates as she was "chosen" first and to be borne upon Fear, she handled herself carefully, and respectably, going so far as to request assistance from those whom I had assumed she still clutched hatred closely to herself for.  With the aid of Toran's best, and the force of will of the other riders, the planes were put back in check.

Involved in that matter, was a venture to Stygia for myself.  One of the Nine Hells, Mith and I worked to open a gateway there to.. and this is true.. apologize to Kea for lashing out at her when we sought her assistance.  I feel that Kobal's actions were rash, but also completely understandable.  Dealing with fiends is invariably a situation in which one shall be burned.  Or, perhaps in the case of Stygia, chilly.  Nevertheless, it was a step in my learning, for while I have some familiarity with such Gates, I have no ability to open them myself.  The spell itself is still beyond my grasp, though I was able to assist Mith with the use of his and some of Key's blood to aid the magic in a sympathetic way.  She handed me the vial... she said she trusted me more than Mith.  While I respect that, it makes me wonder... is the trust of a tiefling something well earned and something to value?  Or is it perhaps a sign that I am not all I wish to be?  At any rate... despite the roughness that I've come to expect from those who have travelled the planes as a lifestyle, Key seems reliable enough.



More notably, more recently, and more personally... I rarely have had great respect for those human sailors who set forth from Leilon.  A number of them are a decent enough lot, but there are those...  in whom Mist's influence breeds evil thoughts.

Celgar, Alleina, and I had made plans to travel into the Thunder Peaks that day.  Unfortunately, our arrival was delayed, for after we had partaken of what the cook aboard the vessel had offered to us, we were promptly subdued by the tainted food, and fell into darkness.  After coming to, we found ourselves in cages bound with magic-suppressing glyphs in the corners.  Naturally, this left me at a disadvantage.  After some meaningless banter with the slavers which I maintained only in order to garner a closer look at the runes while attempting to uphold an air of normalcy.

I strove to undo the cancelling magics... so hard that I felt an ache in my fingertips as I worked to smear, break, or divert those energies the writing contained within the small prison that held me.  As the slavers and their "customers" turned their attention from me to Alleina, I watched as the drow *the writing here is somewhat more pronounced, as if scratched across the paper more than written* had a malignant gleam in his eye turned upon her.  Such a lass, nay, no one deserves to have such a look focused upon them.  Pressed for time, I asked the Lord Protector to look upon us that day.  To provide me with insight so that I could undo these binding energies.  For their sake, if not mine.  I prefer to avoid asking assistance unless it is absolutely necessary.  So it seemed that the All-Seeing was seeing us at that moment, and showed me precisely what I needed to see to undo the runes.  A little more work, and enough of the sealant was removed that I could invoke the Bull's Strength.  Perhaps Rofirein gave me more that day than I expected, for when I strained to break open the door of the cage, it all but fell to pieces in my grasp, the lock flying free as the bars flew aside.  That slaver shall cause no more harm.

We escaped the spit of land just as masts crested the horizon, and we made our way to Hurm, a short distance away.  I fear that so far away from Dalanthar, it may always be a pirate town, unless an active effort is made to clean it.  At the very least, we have taught those who would buy slaves a meaningful message:  There are those who would undo you.  Perhaps it will push some on the steep slope toward redemption.  For you, Daren, and your goddess... I hope.



Meoemael, aey nleam anirilan E illan ceananca aleyvir emwelilmeca...
E anma ane laanillw el sa eaml el ilcc nyillaala, lailela oem anirelaa amiramael E nyilllean iracty sa omealwla.
E illan anirilan aey elanamnyawa irama.  Lean oem sa lailna, fyan oem anira lailna eo Ilccaelil, illw Nyacvilm...
E nyilllean iracty aniras amirama E laean... fyan aey nyill.  Cemw Tymeananyanem, eo anirela E falaaanyir aey.

*Shortly after this page is written, Yardislan makes his way purposefully to the Citadel in Pranzis, to offer a significant donation in thanks*

[Rayenoir]

I have felt little need to write here since the fall of Bloodstone.  No doubt, history books will write of the roiling clouds above, but I do not believe they shall question that we did what we had to.  None should question that some inconvenience of temperature and more work to harvest shall be the clearly better option by comparison to Sinthar scouring the world entirely of life.

Yet... troubles do not end.  It is colder.  Not enough so that my robes cannot cut out the stronger chill in the air, but I am aware that my ventures have made me more affluent than those who would plant and harvest to fulfill my hunger.  Those still upon Roldem without things to call their own... I know that Jennara still works for their assistance, moreso ever since the change in climes.  No longer officially, through the Mistone Alliance, as they removed their aid months..  nearly a year ago now.  Blood left behind a legacy of misery at his departure.  Surely, if he knew what our victory entailed, he would be laughing.

Shileth, I helped accomplish what I promised I would.  I have aided others in ending the war that began in our childhood.  But I have not made the world as much better of a place as I wished.  I continue to work... to forge forward our dream.  I know that wherever you are, you are doing the very same.