The World of Layonara

Character Development => Development Journals and Discussion => Topic started by: Dorganath on December 20, 2004, 12:15:00 PM

Title: The Journals of Connor Garvill
Post by: Dorganath on December 20, 2004, 12:15:00 PM

[SIZE=13]* the writing is hurried, but very legible * [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]"If you want to remember something, write it down." -- Arthur Garvill [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]Not very original advice, and certainly not a saying of his own making, but it is perhaps one of the truer bits of wisdom my father...my adoptive father, that is...ever gave. I wish of all times I would have heeded his advice after I arrived here in this strange place called Layonara. More has happened to me in these few months than in my entire life up until this point. Before I forget anymore, I must put these thoughts down in my journal. [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]Where to start...Perhaps, at the beginning. [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]I guess I've been different all my life. I was the only orphan in my home village of Osterhaf, which was within the protection of King Althain VII on the northern continent of a world called....curses! I have forgotten the name of my world already. It may come to me in time. I do remember it was some word in an ancient, forgotten tongue which meant "ground" or "rock" or something silly like that. Anyway... The people I called my parents, the ones who raised me, were a human couple named Arthur and Elaia Garvill. My father was a woodsman. Made furniture and homes for people. We lived right outside of town along the main road. They always wanted a child, but it never worked out for them. My coming to them was something of a blessing, despite the fact that I quite obviously wasn't their true child. [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]Which brings me to another reason I was different...slightly pointed ears...like the Elves.  Elves were things of stories, of legend, of fables. In truth, no one had really ever seen one, and it caused people to be suspicious of me, to fear me....though out of respect for my father, they were rarely hostile. I grew my hair out a bit to cover the tips of my ears. It kept the questions to a minimum....questions I could not answer. I can only assume that I am half-elven, because I do not carry all the markers and traits of elves. I don't really know, however, as there are precious few clues to my true ancestry.(note in margin: be sure to include what I do know later) [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]A third thing I discovered at an age early enough to really scare me. I found that I could do things that other people could not. One day...night actually...darker than most. I was about 13 years old at the time. There was no moon and the stars were obscured by clouds. It was cold, and I always had more trouble seeing in the dark when it was cold. I had returned home before my parents and I was looking for a lantern so I could see well enough to light a fire. I found the lantern alright, hanging in its spot next to the door, but I could not find a sparker (a special rock and a rough piece of metal....flint and steel they call it here) to light it. So after the third or forth time that I banged my shin on the furniture, I remember thinking how nice it would be once I got that light. As the thought passed my mind, I felt something roll over me...through me even. [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]And before I knew what was going on, the lantern flared to light. But it was not burning, it was just giving off light. "How extrordinary" I remember thinking...right before I realized the enormity of what had just happened and dropped the lantern in a panic and ran from my home. After a while, several minutes, an hour, not really sure...I caught my breath and went back in the house. There was the lantern, on the rug, still giving off light and yet cool to the touch. Cautiously, I picked up the lantern and convinced myself that there was nothing really to fear. I used the light, located a sparker and some tinder, then built a fire in the hearth to warm the chill night. [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]I debated whether or not I should tell my parents of this. I wasn't really sure how it happened, if I had done it or if I could even do it again. But I could not conceal it, for my father returned home while the lantern still glowed. To my amazement he did not seem surprised by this at all. We talked at length about what had happened. That night, he told me two things. First, I must be careful and not let anyone else see me do that, if I can help it at all. Second, he told me of the night I was found by them.... But I will need to continue this another time. [/SIZE]
  [SIZE=13]My hand is cramping and I am tired. [/SIZE]

Title: Of magic and dreams
Post by: Dorganath on December 20, 2004, 01:13:00 PM

* a line is drawn across the journal page and the following writing appears below*

Where did I leave off...Oh yes....the night I was found.

It was a dark night in the spring. My parents had (at the time) a lodge deeper into the woods. On night, while my parents relaxed by the fire, the calm night air was pierced by a resounding explosion (their description) and a blinding flash of light. By the time my father had pulled on his boots and coat, the light had dimmed to a dull glow in the distance. My father ran in the direction of the glow, with my mother falling behind. The glow was a circle of trees and underbush with the last flickers of a dying fire within the circle, all the tree trunks were blackened on one side. At the center of this circle lay an infant...me....completely untouched and unharmed. A few feet away were the charred and unrecognizable remains of....someone. The clothing, flesh and possessions of whoever it was were burned beyond recognition, though its form was recognizably humanoid. They picked me up and took me home with them. The next day, my father went out the the area and examined it closely. The charred area where I was found made an almost perfect circle. Besides partially burned underbrush and trees, there was nothing at the site. Even the remains of the body they saw the night before were gone.

So, they took me in as their own and never treated me as anything different than their own flesh and blood.

I asked my father what that story had to do with my new-found ability to produce light without flame or spark.  He replied, "Son, I honestly do not know.  But I do not believe in coincidence."

I had seen such tricks before.  Traveling bards would sometimes augment their stories with a show of lights for added effect.  And of course, there were wizards...who were somewhat rare in my part of the world (my old world, that is).  A strange bunch they were, with their bags of foul-smelling powders, their musty old books with strange writing.  They were masters and commanders of this things called magic.  Producing light was just one of their many tricks.

But I am no bard.  I could not carry a tune in a bucket, they used to say of me.  And I am no wizard.  I have looked at their books, tried to understand their ways, even sought instruction from a wizard once when I was older, but none of it every made much sense to me.  I learned to read their magic writings, but as soon as I would, the words would leave my mind. And yet, I could still bring forth light by willing it into being.

I eventually "learned" (in much the same way I "learned" to produce light) how to light a fire without spark or tinder.  That came in very useful to be sure.  That was about the extent of what I could do, regardless of how hard I tried. Always, though, I felt like there was something more, but I could not reach it.

After some thought, I suppose it's worth mentioning that there's a fourth way in which I was different, though it didn't seem like anything special to me. This difference was one of dreams.

Everyone has dreams, or so I'm told.  And every night, they are new and different.  Some are scary, some are pleasant.  Some seem no different than our waking times, and some are anything but real.  In this regard, I am no different. But whatever dreams I had, they always had one thing about them that was the same.  Before I knew what they were, I would dream of creatures. Fantastic creatures they were.  Large, colorful beasts.  Some glistened like metal in all its hues.  Others were like the colors in a garden...bright and vibrant.  They were huge...able to swallow a man whole.  They had 4 legs with rapier-sharp talons, teeth like daggers, great wings that would blot out the sun as they flew the skies.  There were hundreds of them....thousands of them.  Sometimes I would just watch them, other times I could talk to them.  On a few rare occasions, I was one of them, flying with them. Whether my dreams showed me one or a thousand of those creatures, every dream contained them.

As I grew older and listened to the old stories, I learned what these creatures were called.

Drachh in the old tongue.

Dragons.

Despite the reputation of these creatures, these dreams never gave me fright.  And yet, as extrordinary as such dreamings are, one in particular stands out.

I'm in a forest grove.  Before me is an ancient dragon, the color of polished gold.  He spoke to me of a need, and he asked me to help with that need.  In my dreams, I had never denied a dragon's request, and I wasn't going to start now.  He told me to walk down a path, and I did.  I emerged at the end of the path in a strange, new place.

Hlint it's called by the locals....centrally located on the western continent of Mistone, on the world of Layonara...wherever that is.  No place I had ever heard of, that's for sure.

I remember thinking, "Well, this is different."  I felt as though I was awake, though I must still be dreaming.  I did not know this place, yet the air, the people, the sounds were all clear and unique.  I touched the grass, and it was still wet from the morning dew. I stood beside a temple with gleaming white granite pilars reaching up into the sky, glistening in the early day's sun.

The sun...I caught myself staring at this sun...the color was all wrong...and I looked away as I realized what I was doing.  A good way to go blind that is.

I turned myself around, blinked to clear the sun spots from my eyes.....and tripped over a dwarf with half a face....

Title: A new reality and a grumpy dwarf
Post by: Dorganath on December 20, 2004, 01:43:00 PM

I don't know if it was my sudden impact with the ground or the dwarf's coarse, gravelly voice, but it was at that moment that I realized that this was no dream.

"Ye better watch wot yer doin' there, Skinny, er by Vorax oi'll be findin' a new place ta keep me axe blade!!!!"

I sat there on the ground, in wonder, barely hearing the dwarf.  I tried to talk, but my jaw just flapped on its own without uttering a word.

"Well?!?!?  Ya just gonna sit there an act all stupid loike, er are ya gonna git outa me way?"

I stood up and somehow found the composure to speak, "I'm sorry, sir.  I did not see you there..." I started

"Yer darned right ya didn't," he replied.

I reached in my pocket and felt a few pieces of gold.  "Tell you what.  Let me buy you an ale to make up for it."

The dwarf looked at me through his one good eye, grumbled under his breath and finally said, "Alright, Skinny....never let it be said that Duradin Fireaxe turned down free ale!" and then let out a laugh that was both disturbing and contagious at the same time.  I laughed with him for a moment and then realized he was staring at me again with that one good eye.  Well?!?!?" he said.  "What're ya waitin' fer, Skinny?"

I looked around, lost, and finally spoke, "Um, I'm not sure where to find an inn...."

The dwarf let out a grunt of exasperation, turned and motioned for me to follow.

And so we sat for hours in the Wild Surge Inn, consuming ale after ale.  We spoke of our homes and our past...and how we came to this place.  After some time had passed, the dwarf got up, clasped a stong hand on my shoulder, looked me in the eye and said, "Yer alright, Skinny, e'en though ya look loike ye could ne hold an axe loike moine without breakin' yer arm." He picked up his last tankard of ale, toasted with mine and drank it down (what didn't spill down his beard, that is) and slammed it on the table.  "See ya, 'round." he said, and he turned and left.  I finished my ale, pushed myself up and stumbled outside.  The light from the now mid-day sun nearly blinded me again and I almost fell off the steps of the inn.  I caught by balance, walked (more like stumbled) around back of the inn, found a tree by the pond there and promptly fell asleep in its shade.

* a double line is drawn across the page *

Now I remember why I never took my father's advice about writing things down....I tend to be very wordy when I write.  I must endeavor to be brief in the future, or I will forever lose the use of my hand for any other purpose but to hold a pen.

* a double line is drawn across the page *

Title: Awakenings
Post by: Dorganath on December 20, 2004, 02:05:00 PM

Besides running into Duradin Fireaxe, quite literally, upon my arrival, I immediately noticed a change in me, though it was difficult to understand at first....especially through the haze of ale...and the headache that followed.

The times when I created light or flame I felt like I reached out and touched something, and that touch brought forth an energy and from this energy I formed light. Now, in this place called Layonara, I felt the touch of that...something...all the time.  Or perhaps it was just much closer than before and the effort needed to reach it was much, much less...almost to where there was no effort at all.  I have since learned that this "something" is known as The Weave, and it is the source of all magic.  The Weave is formed...for lack of a better word...by a goddess named Lucinda, who is also known as the Mother of All Magic.  Magic, it seems, is produced by the manipulation of this Weave.  What a fantastic idea.  

I've learned a little about myself, as well. Those who, like me, can command magic without books or study are known as "Sorcerers". I guess that's as good of a name as anything, but the important thing is, I no longer have to hide this from anyone.  The use of magic here seems to be quite commonplace and is not feared.  I miss my home, but I may end up liking this place.

I recall wondering, though, why I was here.  The dragon called me, I accepted, but there has been very little else.  I've gathered something about a man named "Bloodstone" and his dark armies...something about generals and Rifts and Blood Wells.  Oh, it's all too much to take in right now.

But, I suppose I have plenty of time for that.  I've been experimenting with my magic...yes, I suppose I can call it that now openly...and I find that light and flame are much, much easier now.  And there's more.  I can douse a fire with a ray of cold....and a few other tricks.  I've used mor magic in the last few days than in the 30-some years of my life up until that point.  I find, though, that it does require some effort, and after a time of summoning magics, I need to rest a bit before I can attempt it again.

The dreams continue, even in this place, which means that this is certainly no dream but a new reality for me.  This is, for better or worse, my new home.

Title: Brothers
Post by: Dorganath on December 20, 2004, 02:39:00 PM

I never had any siblings growing up.  Friends, yes.  Siblings, no.  Since my arrival here, it seems I have gained a brother of sorts....and of all the unlikey people.

It seems I cannot avoid this dwarf....Fireaxe. We went into the crypts in Hlint at the request of Erag.  We found down there an infestation of the undead. Terrible things, the undead.  Something about them tears at my soul.  The feel....wrong to me (besides the obvious walking dead aspect), but I cannot quite put the feeling into words.  Perhaps in time.

At any rate, Duradin would go ahead first, draw some walking bones toward us, then we'd both hit them.  He with his axe, me with a crossbow (yes, very ineffective against the undead, but it's all I had).  It worked pretty well.  I got in a few lucky shots, he cut through those dusty old bones like kindling.  Not bad, overall.  He doesn't think I noticed, but after every "kill", he got a look of annoyance, as if to wonder what he was doing with this weakling half-elf in such a nasty place.  I also think he took a secret joy from watching me struggle...

And so we continued...only sometimes Duradin rushes ahead a bit too much.  Before we knew it, there were more skeletons than we could handle efficiently....or safely.  Duradin held them as best he could, but one slipped by and headed straight for me.  I raised my crossbow and fired. The shot went wide, sticking in the far wall.  I fumbled to reload as the skeleton closed. I backed up, but still he closed.  10 yards, 9....8...I dropped the bolt I was loading....7...6...5...my foot caught on some rubble and I fell squarely on my backside, and another bolt flew from my shaking hands....4 yards...3...I take a shot, and it sticks....but the skeleton keeps coming as I struggle to stand again....2 yards, and he raises his sword....1 yard.....the sword falls to the ground as the skeleton is cleaved in two by the axe of a bloodied but strong Duradin.

Through his labored breathing, he laughs, "Har, Skinny!  Looks loike ya owes me one, eh?"  And as those words escaped his mouth, I saw behind him another skeleton, sword raised for the strike, closing far too fast.  Without thinking I raised my hand as blue energy gathered at my fingertips.  The look of smug satisfaction on Duradin's face was quickly replaced by one of bewilderment and shock...almost terror...as the ball of energy forming in my hand shot forth, passed over his shoulder and into the skull of the approaching skeleton.  The skeleton's skull fractured and fell about the floor as the blue energy struck.  The skeleton's sword clattered to the ground.

"No Shorty," I said to Duradin with a gleam in my eye.  "It looks like we're even!"  Again, he stared at me through his one good eye, and then erupted in laughter "Har!  Right ye be, lad!"

Later, when we were finished in the crypts, with the blood from our own wounds, Duradin and I swore an oath...a pact that bound us as "War Brothers," as he called it.  A brother.  It is a good thing to have.  Aye.

Title: More dreams....
Post by: Dorganath on December 22, 2004, 10:37:00 AM

I had another waking dream of sorts.  And it contained a single dragon...of sorts, anyway.  It was small, about the size of a large bird.  It spoke a few words, but mostly in coos, purrs and chirps which I found I could understand quite easily to my surprise. It called to me, and I followed.  First, from far off, I could only see its form and movement.  I ran to reach it, but it was quick and seemed to enjoy the chase.

Through forests, caves and fields it flew and I ran. The sun rose and set, an as I broke into a small grove in some forest, I felt I could run no more.  So I stopped, built a small fire and nibbled on some dried food in my pack.  As I sat and stared at the fire, the flames took the form of this tiny dragon and then lept high into the air.  The dragon-flames circled and rose, higher and higher, passing in front of the moon before swooping down toward me with great speed and aim.

At this point, I was pretty concerned, and as I tried to stand an run, I lost my footing and fell to the ground. I managed to prop myself up to a sitting position just before the flame struck me.  As it struck, I blacked out.

When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was the throbbing on the back of my head.  The next was that my robes were untouched by flame. "That was some dream," I thought....until I saw the third thing.  The tiny dragon I had chased in my dream was curled up, asleep, at my feet.

I stared into the remains of the dying fire, the last few embers glowing softly in the early morning light.  "Ember," I said. The dragon awoke and purred happily at the sound of the word.  "Very well, I shall call you 'Ember'".  

With that, Ember and I put our heads down and fell back to sleep.

From that day forth, Ember has been a companion and protection whenever I need him.  Perhaps he was some sort of gift....from this goddess Lucinda, perhaps.  Who can say.  All I know is that he comes when I call, and I feel a loss when he is not around.

Title: Awakenings, Part II
Post by: Dorganath on December 22, 2004, 10:45:00 AM

I've learned a few more "tricks" since I've been here.  Of course, when I say "learned" it's more like "found" or "discovered", as there is no real learning involved.

I've discovered I don't like dying too much.  This Bindstone device is wonderous, but I do not relish the trips back to it.  It is...draining somehow, and it seems to get worse with each successive visit.  I must endeavor to be more cautious

I've discovered a thing called Alchemy.  I'm not real good at it yet, but I find it fascinating...almost like magic in a bottle.  

I've discovered I can do some fantastic things, like summon forth fire on the blade of a weapon for a time, which does not harm the wielder, but which works wonders against the undead....and other foes.

I've discovered I can make myself vanish for a time, which is very handy at avoiding beasts who would certainly eat me alive without such illusion.

Then there's the blue ball of energy I discovered earlier.  I've learned how to release even more energy, which divides itself into multiple balls that all stream unerringly to my target.

I've discovered I'm rather handy with a crossbow.  Not great, but I do alright.  It's better than fighting with a dagger, that's for sure.

This is all very exciting.

Title: An Unexpected Turn
Post by: Dorganath on December 22, 2004, 10:56:00 AM

I try.  I really do.  This place is very dangerous, but I do the best I can.  I've even tried to travel with other people as much as possible, for protection, but too often I find myself on the brink of death with no good way to defend myself.  A dagger is just about useless, and my crossbow doesn't function well at close range.

My frustration led me to wander around Hlint one day, feeling sorry for myself.  Without any real purpose at all, I wound up in a merchant hall talking to, of all things, a weapon vendor.  For whatever reason, a sword caught my eye.  A good sized one at that.  He called it a bastard sword. Something about its gleam and the lines of the blade caught my eye.  Before I realized it, I had layed down the gold to buy this sword.  I picked it up, felt its weight and removed it from its scabbard.  

To my surprise, it felt good.  Really good.  And yet, very clumsy at the same time.  I walked out with it and headed to Seilwood forest to try it out on the beetles that live there.  I needed some reagents for potions anyway, so I figured it would be a good place to start.  It didn't go as well as I would hoped, and I'll say that it was Ember who saved my life that day.  The sword was difficult to swing, but when I did strike, it made quite an impact.  I think I'll like this, but I'll need more practice to be sure.

Since this time, I have also bought myself a suit of leather armor for greater protection.  It's comforting, but I find it tends to interfere with my summoning of magics.  Not a lot, but sometimes.  That, I suppose, is the price I must pay for protection.  The robes are more comfortable, however, so I'll probably keep with them unless I need something stronger.

Title: Practice, practice, practice
Post by: Dorganath on December 22, 2004, 11:02:00 AM

Well, I'm living proof that the only way to improve is to practice.

I'm getting better at making some simple potions. Much better, in fact.  I have more successes than failures these days, and that's a good thing.

I'm also getting better with that sword of mine.  I seem to have gotten stronger through exertion, and my blows are more confident, more effective.  

I've even learned how to shoot my crossbow at short range.  I dare say I'm even better at close range than at a more normal range for such a weapon.  Maybe that's just my enthusiasm talking.

Who knew combat could be so fun, so exilarating.  I spent about a day (maybe more) in the Broken Forest with an insane fighter named Derrick.  Together, we thinned the crop of undead (vile abominations!!!) that seem to sprout like weeds in that place.  We paused only to rest and resupply.  And I have recently traded in my old crossbow for one made of oak.  It's a bit harder to pull, but it strikes truer and more accurately.  This is a good thing, indeed.

Title: A sign from Lucinda
Post by: Dorganath on December 22, 2004, 11:09:00 AM

I can't believe I almost forgot this event.  What a harrowing experience it was, perhaps I blocked it out.

I was travelling with a group to Lar in the Greypeak Mountains.  Along the way, we found ourselves facing a large number of ogres, who did not welcome our intrusion.  Someone ran ahead too quickly (I do not remember who...it matters not) and in doing so brought a small horde of ogres down upon the party.  About half of our number fell into death, and would have remained so were it not for the good fortune of a passing healer.  

This healer was a follower of Lucinda, and she raised our fallen companions on the condition that we all, living or dead, are now in the debt of Lucinda, and that one day we'll be called upon to repay this debt. I agreed immediately, both for my friends but for myself as well, for I have grown to believe more and more that my powers here are a direct result of Lucinda and this Weave of hers.

My father did not believe in coincidence, and neither do I.

Title: More signs.
Post by: Dorganath on December 22, 2004, 11:30:00 AM

Since I'm speaking of events of importance, I am also surprised I did not write of this sooner....

...of the night the sky rained fire.

Yes, fire.  I was walking back from the Seilwood Forest to Moraken's tower (where I practice my Alchemy) with some fresh ingredients for potions and such.  On my way there, I noticed streaming lights in the sky.  Quite impressive, really.  I had seen such things before in my home (wherever that is now...I do not know the way back) about 2-3 times each year.  But this was suddenly different.

The intensity grew, and these streaking lights became perilous balls of fire streaming down to the ground.  I thought for sure I would be struck down by one of these.  I made haste to the shelter of the tower.  After I had caught my breath, I focused on making some potions.  I had moderate success, if I recall.  On my way out, the ground shook.  I suddenly thought that it would be far riskier to remain indoors and have a tower fall on me than to take the chance of being stuck by fire from the heavens outdoors.  So, out I went, and I nearly tripped over a woman (a priestess, perhaps) knealing on the ground, bowing and talking of her god, that this was a sign from her god, and so forth.  I didn't quite get what was so special....until I looked at the sky.  The clouds had gathered and coalesced into a face.  This was no trick of light; the face was quite recognizable.  I do not know whose face it was, for the clouds swirled and dissipated as the rain of fire slowed, then stopped.

Whatever this truly was, I do not know.  But later that same evening, I was leaving Hlint when I ran into a group of people talking with Ozy, that strange elven bard, who seems older than the world some days.  I stopped to listen, hoping perhaps to find some information about the evening's events.  Before long, however, the group was attacked by all manner of infernal beasts. I helped to fight them off, though I have no illusions about my effectiveness.  The group then went into the forest to visit the Seilwood witch, who was nowhere to be found.  To make matters worse, there was a strange portal and bloody footprints in her home.  Even the oldest and most experienced among us had no idea what this all meant, but they hoped that Queen Allurial would know, as she and the Witch are sisters, apparently.

*written in the side margin* (The Queen.  I had so hoped to meet her)

Alas, after reaching Blackford Castle, we found that the Queen also was missing.  This could not be good.  As it turns out, the castle contains a temple to Lucinda, so we visited that, but her priestess did not know where she went either.

*written in the margin* (That name again....Lucinda)

I never did find out what all became of the night's events, or what happened to the Queen or her sister.  I do know that since then, I have seen the Queen, but I do not know where she went, when she came back or why she even left.  Perhaps such mysteries will reveal themselves in time.

Then again, perhaps I will speak with Ozy and find out.

Title: A loss of sorts
Post by: Dorganath on December 22, 2004, 11:39:00 AM

My greatest friend here, Duradin, had grown melancholy of late.  One day, he approached me and said:

"Laddie, Oi'm gonna be goin' fer a bit.  A good lont toime, oi'd reckon."

"What?" I said.  "Where?  WHY?"

He chuckled, "D'not trouble yerself, laddie.  Oi'll be back.  Oi jes' got sum thins oi gots ta do, is all.  Somthins ta think on.  And ya knows oi'm not that great of a thinker, so its a'gonna take meh a good long while to figger it all out.  Har!  Ye'll be ollright witout meh.  Ye'll hardly know oi'm gone, ya will."

"So you're certain then?"

"Aye, lad.  Ne'er been more certain of anythin in moy loife."

"Far be it for me to try and change your mind.  Your skull's to thick!"

"Har! That it is, lad.  That it is." And then, after a pause.  "Aye, be well me brother, and make honest war upon our enemies."

"I will," I said.  

And with that, he nodded, propped the handle of his axe on his shoulder, turned and left.

I do not know where he went.  He wouldn't, or couldn't, tell me.  But I know he is safe and I know he'll be back.

Title: The joys of not being seen
Post by: Dorganath on December 23, 2004, 06:37:00 AM

Well, I haven't always been the smartest person, but I do alright.  A while ago, I discovered the trick of making myself vanish for a time, but I still felt captive to only roaming the "safe" places in and around Hlint, Haven, Krandor and Leilon (as long as I stayed on the road).  This was very frustrating for me, as I felt like I could only get out and explore when someone else was going the same direction.

Never once did it occur to me that I could avoid a lot of pain and risk of death by walking through certain places completely invisible. And once it did, a whole world opened up for me....literally.

I could get past those griffons that watch the roads in the north and the south.  I could get past the undead in the Broken Forest, the giants, manticores, snakes and scorpions in the Blood Desert.  I could avoid being seen and get pretty much anywhere I needed.

I've been to the continent of Rilara, by myself, and walked most of its roads and paths (including one place I hope not to see again....EVER) without being killed, or even threatened.  I've strolled through Dire Wood without so much as a groan from the spectres who dwell there.  I've been in caves, scouting out resources like spiders silks, ores and minerals.   This has truly been a gift.

Of course, exploration comes with its share of concerns.  For example....

A while ago, I was down by Ft. Velensk and fully visible.  Don't remember why, exactly, just exploring I guess.  I caught sight of a woman there, clad in what seemed like ceremonial robes, though I'm really not too knowledgeable about such things.  She wasn't doing much, just standing around.  Didn't think much of it at first, and I did not approach her.  I figured she had her own business.

I eventually made my way back to Hlint and sat down on one of the benches under that big tree by the bank.  I was somewhat surprised to see this same woman walking past on the road.  Coincidence?  Possibly, but as I've written, I don't believe much in them.  

Over the next several days, I caught sight of her several more times.  This started to concern me for two reasons.  First, there was an ill look about her.  Nothing I could quite put a handle on, but something in the face that suggested.....darkness, perhaps.  Second, I began to wonder if I was being followed.  I dismissed that as ludicrous.  Who would want to follow me?  I'm really nothing....nobody of any importance.

Except on at least one occasion, perhaps two, I was invisible, and yet, there she was, as if anticipating my arrival. Once in particular, I was all the way down in Port Hampshire, not a place I go too often except to catch a boat somewhere.  Strange.

Perhaps the "coincidence" of our being in the same places at the same time is merely some odd overlapping of time and personal business.  Most likely this is the case.  But, perhaps it is not me who is being followed.  Perhaps I was meant to observe or take notice of this person for some other, greater reason.  Perhaps we were both observing the same things, but for vastly different reasons.  It is a possibility I will need to explore.*

For now, adventure calls.

(written in the bottom margin of the page)
* I have since learned the name of this woman, but I shall not write it here.  If there is more to this "coincidence" than currently seems, then I dare not risk the chance of this journal being lost and falling into the wrong hands.

Title: Finding the lost....
Post by: Dorganath on December 28, 2004, 07:17:00 AM

*The first big fuzzy blank bit*

Title: A new outlook
Post by: Dorganath on December 28, 2004, 10:56:00 AM

So much has changed for me since I came to Layonara.  I've grown in power in terms of magic.  I've grown in strength and prowess with weapons.  I've made several new friends and contributed to several events of varying importance, including helping to repell an invasion of Hlint from the Drow.  I've become fairly proficient in alchemy, though I know I have far to go.  I recently took up gem cutting as a hobby, and found that I'm actually quite good at it...for as much as I've practiced, that is.  But the ability to make my own polishing oil is certainly a plus.

But in spite of all this, I've found myself wondering even more as to exactly why I was brought here. The dragon is obviously more intellingent and wise than I will probably ever be, and yet I wonder if he didn't make a mistake.

Lately, there have been some rather disturbing events happening around Hlint and other areas.  A group of people of dark vestments have been hanging around the crypts and caves of the area.  

(written in the side margin) That person I wrote of earlier seems to be involved with this group, though to what extent I do not know.

Often, bubbles of magical darkness and waves of a sickly red fog accompany them.  They claim to have nothing to do with such occurances, but as I have said many times, I do not believe in coincidences.  What's of even greater concern to me is that this business, this "alliance," is of great concern to those who I consider to be far more powerful than myself. To make matters worse, I saw the red fog affect those people...brought them to their knees...even after the fog had dissipated.  And as if that wasn't enough, I too felt the touch of that fog, though I went nowhere near the accursed mist.

Plenarius called it the "Taint"...an evil shadow that weighs upon my heart. Again, I questioned, "But why me?"  Why bother with someone as insignificant as myself?  In a long conversation with Plenarius, he confirmed something that has been rolling around in the back of my head since I got here.  I'm here for a reason...

While I don't yet know what that reason could possibly be, I have received enough nudges to convince me that it's time to take my future into my own hands.

With this, I have written about all I care to write about my time here so far.  Further entries will be more timely....I hope.

Perhaps by putting pen to parchement, I will remind myself of subtle clues that were previously missed.  And I need to find out more about this goddess Lucinda...and perhaps find some way to thank her for these gifts She has apparently given me.

Dated -- 28 Decilar 1374

Title: Journals -- Part 2
Post by: Dorganath on January 04, 2005, 11:28:00 AM

So much for keeping my journal entries in a timely manner.  Ah well.  Better luck next time.

A wonderous and very strange series of events happened recently, and I had the....privilege (?) of being part of them. This one is too strange to write in its entirety.  Who'd believe it anyway?  Just the handful of people involved...and maybe a ship's captain down in Port Hampshire.

It seems there was this tomato....and a large one at that.  A large walking tomato, standing at least 8 feet high...a tomato that talked....and which was pretty handy in a fight, it turns out.  And there were giant cabbages...or were they cucumbers.  Oh, it doesn't really matter. The tomato was nice....friendly...even helpful.  Conscious, but not overly intelligent.  His "cousins" however were not so friendly or helpful.  In fact, they were down right mean.....and they smelled funny, too....and they were out to kill the tomato and whoever else got in their way.

In the end, we were able to save the Tomato, and he lives with Serenity now on Dregar somewhere, and stop the rest of the animated vegetables from terrorizing the countryside.  And the one thing that stopped the whole mess was not some fancy, powerful spell or some brave act of heroics, but rather....a simple pecan I had picked while exploring one day.

So this incident got me to thinking....thinking about what I would do with myself as I take command of my destiny.

I decided I would do what made me happy.  In no particular order:  alchemy, gem crafting and helping others when needed, whether hunting for spider silk or vanquishing some unspeakable evil...or somewhere in between. (written in side margin: Also drinking dwarven ale, destroying the undead)

I decided that it's alright to be in the back throwing arrows or rocks (or even pecans)...to depend on others to survive difficult situations. We all contribute in our own capacities.

I decided I would try not to overlook the small things, because sometimes solutions to big problems come in the smallest of details.

And I decided I would re-devote myself to discovering all I could about this gift of magic I posess, of Lucinda and of this thing called The Weave.  It seems I owe all three a debt of gratitude, and I am a long way from paying that back.

And if, in the process, I help to save the world...or make a little coin....so be it!

Title: Bad omens
Post by: Dorganath on January 05, 2005, 10:58:00 AM

It seems our little adventure with the tomato in Rilara ended none too soon.  Afterwards, I spent several days exploring, taking in the land again, as I had done months before, and taking special note of the natural resources spread all around Rilara.  I even carried a sack full of some of them back with me.

Before I left, though, I found myself in a life-or-death encounter with a malar panther.  It seems they can see through my cloak of invisibility, and one of them gave me chase.  So I did what anyone would do in that situation.  I ran.

I ran until I thought my lungs would burst.  I think the panther was playing with me, as I believe it could have overtaken me easily.  And yet....it didn't.  I ran out of the Sereth Fens and all the way to Casterly Castle.  I flung open the doors, hoping to close them behind me, but the panther was too close.  So I shouted for Alexi, the peculiar dwarf who lives there.  He looked at me, saw my predicament and vanished.

"NO!" I screamed in my head, not wanting to waste my breath on any further shouting.  I could feel I was nearing exhaustion.  The panther was closer now, and he nipped and scratched at my heels to let me know that. I ran around the pond, around the buildings...hoping to confuse or tire the panther, but it was all for naught.  I felt exhaustion looming closer.  Every step was a monumental effort. For the briefest of moments, I considered stopping and offering the panther my throat so as to hasten what seemed inevitable.

And then, in my path, appeared a golem....a new target for the panther, who apparently is unaware that golems are not made of meat.  Anyway, it was just the distraction I needed to get away and catch my breath. In short order, I saw Alexi join the fray and take on the panther. I felt bad for bringing the beast here, so with my last bit of strenth, I drew my sword to aided the attack on the panther.  I honestly do not know if my blows had any effect whatsoever...and I'm pretty sure I blacked out for a moment.  When I opened my eyes, Alexi stood over the dead panther, breathing deeply.  He turned to look at me, surveyed my (largely superficial) wounds and then muttered a spell of healing that stopped my bleeding.  He then turned, muttered something in dwarvish and went about his business.

I sank back into unconsciousness.  When I awoke it was dark, Alexi was gone, the golem was gone, and the panther was still dead. Knowing that the skins of such creatures are valuable, I quickly cut the pelt from the creature and disposed of the rest of it.  As I left Casterly Castle, I looked toward the pass to the Sereth Fens, and as I did, I heard the growl of the malars....too close for my tastes.And so, I ran again to put as much distance between them and me as possible, lest they smell my fear on the wind and come hunting for an easy snack.  I ran for quite some time, invisibly because it made me feel better.  After some period of time...an hour perhaps, I came to the Gates of Point Harbor.  And from there, booked passage back to Mistone.

And now, for the bad part.

Not long after returning to Hlint, the sky darkened to the south. A tremendous maelstrom of dark clouds rose out of the south over what I now know was Rilara.  What a massive storm it must have been to be seen half a continent and miles of ocean away.  And yet, there it was...a looming, unnatural cloud of unfathomable size and a sinister air even from this great distance.  Naturally, the fear was that this storm would come to Mistone, but that did not happen. Ships were shut down and people, some that I know, were trapped there. It lasted for several days, and my friends were eventually able to return home.

Of the few words I've had with those who have some knowledge of this event, the storm was apparently part of an invasion of Rilara.  Though the storm is now gone, there is fear and concern among those who I consider to be quite strong and powerful that Rilara is now under the control of this invading force, whatever that is.  Rumors are plenty, and details, truthful details, are few.  Perhaps Plenarius would know more, but I have not seen him for many days.

It seems, perhaps, that the war may be coming to us.

Title: Rumors and truth
Post by: Dorganath on January 07, 2005, 07:00:00 AM

Usually, it seems, rumors are far worse than the truth in any given situation. Sadly, I have found that this is not always true.  

This business with Rilara has been on my mind a lot recently....since the storm, really. Rumors of what has transpired are many.  The generally accepted belief is that the recent tempest over Rilara was part of an invasion of sorts...or a power struggle.  But pinning down the truth has been tricky.

I have heard rumors that demons rained from the sky during that storm, and that they now roam, even control, Rilara.  I have heard that Blood himself came to Rilara, and yet other rumors state that it was another of Blood's generals, a demon of some great power (and whose name I have heard, but will not write here), who came to claim Rilara as his own.  I have heard rumors that the storm was an attempt to cut us off from an ancient fey race who may be our only real hope of defeating Blood.

And then there's this rumor of a Red Moon.  The prevailing rumor here is that the moon will turn yellow, then orange and finally red.  When the red moon apears, so the rumors go, a dark god will step forth to claim power....or a new god will arise....or something else equally foreboding.

Rumors of such things are always unsettling, to be sure. And yet, I am now no more comforted after learing the truth, or at least as much truth as is available to me.  

Rilara is supposedly back to "normal"....whatever that means.  According to Plenarius, the entire continent seems to be pretty much as it has been all along, no more or less dangerous than it has been.  This is good, afterall.  But despite that, the details of that storm and its aftermath are still quite unclear, even to those who usually know of such things....and that gives me great concern.

And this rumor of the Red Moon....It is true.  At least that there will be a Red Moon is true.  What comes of it has yet to be determined.  I have learned that during the time of the Red Moon, all aspects of the Weave will be united for a time.  I only guess as to what effect this will have, but I do not like the sound of it at all. And I wonder what effect this shift in the Weave will have on me and the magics in my blood.

Brisbane said that the forces of evil on this world have known about the coming of this event for a long time and are planning some form of assault to take advantage of this event.  It is hoped that we can somehow find a way to level the battlefield....to even up the odds.  I do not know how that might be accomplished, but I have offered my services in the effort, such as they are.

Part of me wishes that I had kept my mouth shut and continued on in blissful ignorance of these events.  Rumors, being what they are, can often be generally dismissed as folly.  The truth, even part of the truth, cannot be so easily ignored.

I only wish now that this discomfort I feel in the pit of my stomach would subside.

Title: Child's play
Post by: Dorganath on January 07, 2005, 07:29:00 AM

Right before the time of the Drow invasion of Hlint, a young boy arrived in town.  He was dirty, his clothes ragged and torn.  He had many marks from injuries, some likely inflicted by others.  And he was scared of his own shadow.  For whatever reason, I had great concern for this boy, particularly after a small raiding party of Drow breached the city's walls.  He ran and hid as I approached him...cowering under the platform by the well.  I remember trying to gain his trust by offering a bit of my food....which he took and ate ravenously as if he hadn't eaten for days (and perhaps he hadn't).

I was able to speak with him briefly, and he told a halting tale of his life, which has seen more hardship than any child should have to endure.  Being an orphan was the least of his hardships, apparently.  He always looked frightenend and would rarely let anyone near him.  The pain in his eyes was most un-childlike. And he told me his name: Tom.

Since that time, I have seen him grow more comfortable with the people in town.  Still understandably skittish, but more like a child should be.  And best of all, he has been taken in by Plenarius and Brisbane, who he calls his "mum and dad". He seems happy, for perhaps the first time in his life.

He clung to the leg of Brisbane during a recent conversation I had with her, and during that time something quite unexpected happened.  We were speaking of this Red Moon, and the topic greatly concerned young Tom to the point of fear. As he became more scared and agitated, I first felt then saw a swirling of magical energies around him...coming from him.  The whole thing seemed to make him rather scared...though I got the impression it was not the first time such a thing has happened to him.  And unless I am mistaken, I think the boy was instinctually trying to protect himself, though he perhaps did not understand how to manifest that protection.  Fascinating, really.

I immediately understood what was happening to him, as did Katrien, a bard, who was part of our conversation.  I tried to reassure Tom, telling him that something similar had happened to me, and that he would learn to control it in time.  This confused him more, I think, but perhaps it also helped to calm him a bit.  The swirling magic subsided shortly, and he was noticably relieved.

Later, I told him how I understood what he was going through, and I told him that I might be able to help him, if he was willing.  I told him that my magic worked the same way, and that it scared me, too, as a child.  He seemed to find some comfort in that and also willing to let me try to help him understand his "gifts" (as Brisbane calls them), but at the same time quite scared.  I told him he could come to me whenever he was ready. He nodded, then ran off to find his "mum".

I have no need of an apprentice, but his experience made me recall my own childhood with my "gifts" and how they frightened me...how I had to hide them from all but my own family.  Whether it is me who helps him or someone else, I certainly hope he finds some guidance in this awakening.

Title: A strange dream
Post by: Dorganath on January 14, 2005, 11:20:00 AM

*written somewhat hurriedly and less legibly than other entries*

I have just had the strangest dream of my entire life.  I hope I can write this down quickly enough, lest I begin to forget the details.

I've been travelling the High Forest, gathering plants and roots for potions. I stopped in the Harmony Grove to rest after a long day of gathering.  My legs and feet ached from the walk, and my pack weighed heavily on my shoulder.  The night was cool and clear and there was a slight breeze.  I sat by the fire and ate a modest dinner and took an inventory of the day's gatherings.  Not bad, overall.  Another day of this, and I should have plenty...for now.  As the hour grew late, I laid out my bedroll near the smouldering fire.  Ember curled up next to me, his head tucked neatly under a wing.

I laid on my back and gazed up the stars through the trees.  Such beauty...such calm...very mesmerizing.  I felt my eyes grow heavy...tired.  A blink...another, slower this time....and another.  And between blinks, the sky changed.

The stars were there, the forest was there, but now there was something else. An energy....a wave...I don't know how else to describe it.  The night sky was permeated by a faint glow.  It was in the sky, and yet, separate from the sky. This glow flowed like water or a flag in the wind.  As I stared longer, I saw that it had texture...stripes of brighter and darker colors, all shades the eye can see, criss-crossing each other, swirling around each other in a slow, fluid dance.  I sat up, then stood.  Ember seemed not to notice.

I walked around the grove.  This glow was everywhere, and it touched everything.  It flowed around all things, past them, through them.  Through the trees, I saw the temple of Katia.  The temple was bathed in the glow, brighter than its surroundings.  Chords of every shade of green flowed through the temple...or radiated from the temple...I could not tell which.

I rub my eyes to clear my vision.  I notice my hands.  They too are bathed in the glow, as are my arms...my entire body.  I stare at my hands, watching the streamers of light play around them...pass through them.  As I watched, the light became more concentrated, more intense.  I felt the familiar surge of building magic as the glow intensified around me.  My hands became obscured in light, so that I could no longer see my fingers.  The glow was warm, comforting, familiar.  For a moment, I was transfixed as the light grew brighter and brighter.  And then a sudden flash.  Reflexively, raised my arm to shield my eyes, and the flash subsided.  My hands dimmed and faded, though traces of light continued to swirl.

Then, a sound high in the sky.  I look up. Dragons.  Dozens of them, perhaps a hundred or more.  Flying through the sky, each glowing brightly as my own hands had done.  They flew along parallel strands of light, as if following this energy...or perhaps bending it to their will.  I walked into a clearing to get a better view.  The sky opened up before me, and I watched them until I could no longer see them.

And as they flew out of sight, I saw the moon begin to rise low in the sky.  It rose quickly, faster than I had ever seen it move.  And as it rose, fine strands of light swirled around it.  As it rose, it changed color.  White, then yellow, then orange as it neared its apex.  As it rose, the swirling around it became more intense....and brighter.  As it reached its highest point in the sky, directly overhead, the color deepened, darkened.  I had thought it would turn black, but instead it turned a most disturbing shade of blood red.  

As this last change in color took hold, everything changed.  The multi-hued glow that had been was replaced with shades of the same color, from a dark, blood red to a warm rose color and all shades in between.  I tried to look away from the moon.  The words screamed in my head, but I could not move...I could not look away.  The moon seemed to grow larger in the sky...or closer...I could not tell.  The swirling intensified, The wind grew.  Dark boiling clouds blew in from the south, obscuring the sky but leaving my view of the moon clear for a time.  As the gap in the clouds closed, for an instant, I saw what looked like a dark hand closing around the moon.  Lightning cracked overhead....

I awoke with a start next to my fire...my heart pounding in my chest...my breathing rapid and erratic.  Ember looked slightly annoyed that I had disturbed him, but promptly tucked his head back under a wing.

I looked at the sky.  The dull glow of dawn was approaching. The fire was little but smoke and ash.  I got up and walked around.  Everything seemed normal.  I saw the temple of Katia....same as it had always been.  And my hands...a bit dirty, but otherwise as they should be.

Title: Unexpected developments
Post by: Dorganath on January 25, 2005, 06:50:00 AM

After months of wondering what part I had to play here, I have taken instead to trying to better myself, and in the process, some interesting things have happened.

I've learned to make healing potions...I may have mentioned this....from certain plants and roots.  I have become quite good at it, actually.  I may seek to begin selling them, if I can find buyers.  For now, I make them for myself and the occaisonal batch for a friend, Kat, who brews Wizard's Wheat Ale as a hobby.

But in the gathering of ingredients for such things, I come across various other plants and such that people seem to need.  As a result, I've made a fair amount of money recently by collecing, and selling, boxes full of things like aloe, garlic, spider silk and more.  I'll never get rich this way, of course, but perhaps soon I will be able to afford a few things to aid in my journeys.

My skills in alchemy are finally finding a use as well.  Archmagus Elinmire has taken to buying the Alchemist's Fire I make from the fire beetles in Seilwood and elsewhere.  He needs them for some magic spell.  I forget their names sometimes...he described it as a storm of flaming arrows.  It sounds powerful, and some day I hope that Lucinda grants me the ability to cast it myself.  Also, Elinmire has been one of my best customers for large quantities of things I collect. I'm not sure what the old wizard is up to with all this, but his needs are great.

I'm also able to aid my friends through alchemy, and that makes me happy.  Kat is also a skilled tailor and an apparent expert in the kitchen.  We often trade tanning oil that I make for juices she makes.  The juices go into various essences and potions which, again, seem to have real value to some people.  It feels good to contribute to the work of others.

The boy, Tom, has come to me for help with using his magical gifts.  The first lesson was difficult, for both of us, I think.  But we seem to have some common experiences in our respective awakenings.  For the first time in my life, I have had to actually think about magic and how I call it forth.  It was like trying to teach someone how to breathe.  At any rate, the next time I saw Tom, he was able to call forth his magic on purpose, when before it had been linked to his state-of-mind...his emotions.  This is indeed a good development.  I hope our next lesson will bring about more growth and control on his part.  

The whole experience with Tom has increased my desire and motivation to continue my discoveries of Lucinda and the Weave.  I have begun relying more upon the strength of my magic and less upon the strength of my arms...which is not all that much strength in either case.  When alone, I often avoid combat that I know to be too perilous.  And when given no option or when I am confident in the outcome, I call upon the Weave, with Lucinda's blessing, to empower my attacks and to guard me against harm.  

And recently, a chance encounter with Naga, whom I have not seen in a long time, brought about a conversation of Lucinda, of gifts and my desire to learn more.  She has requested that I meet her at the temple in Blackford to discuss some things further.  I'm eager to hear whatever information she has.  Perhaps this will lead to the beginnings of finding my purpose here.

But unfortunately, it has not all been positive.  The orange moon has risen.  I do not know how much longer it will last, but I fear it will not be long enough before the red moon rises.  This event concerns me greatly, though I am not fully sure why.  

It seems through my desire to help and to aid with the fight against Blood and his armies, I have unwittingly played a part in the return of a serpent god, after having been deceived by the Black Wizards themselves.  I can only guess as to what this means for the future...and our greater struggle against Blood.

And most recently, the red fog reared its ugly head throughout the land, and the dead rose from their places of rest.  I helped to defend Hlint against the undead, while others journeyed to try and locate an artifact to aid us against this scourge of the red fog.  This is, of course, good, but the cause is not.  But in the process, I learned that the red fog is the opposite of the Weave, though calling it anti-magic is not entirely correct.  From what I've heard, the fog seems to be anti-life...as it destroys life from the living and grants it to the dead...or the undead.  Lucinda tells us that the Weave IS life, and to protect the Weave is to protect life.   And so in that respect, the fog must be stopped, or we shall all suffer.

Title: Disturbing developments
Post by: Dorganath on January 30, 2005, 02:21:00 PM

The pen feels heavy as I write this.  These last several days have seen much tragedy...much deceit...much treachery. I am discouraged, frustrated and utterly enraged.

A constellation has returned to the sky, heralding the return of a god.  Through deception and manipulation by the Black Wizards, my group and I were instrumental in bringing this about. I must say, I do not relish being used in this manner...or at all.  And the thought of this brings me a fury like none I've ever known.
*there is a small scorch mark at the end of that sentence*

And now, a new round of drow attacks upon Hlint, and this Navarre person...fallen paladin of Toran, now casting his lot with a much darker lot. Worst of all, these new dark forces have taken to targeting my friends...harming them...holding them hostage to threats.  Brisbane...Katrien....poisoned by some unknown agent and used as hostages of a sort to keep Plenarius and Celgar out of the picture...to keep them from resisting this new threat...and a drow assassin carved a message into the skin of Kat's back...I have heard other prominent people have been threatened in similar ways.  Sand has episodes of insantiy, which according to him are due to Milara taking control of his mind.  Knowing that Milara's involved with this is certainly disheartening....nearly to the point of despair.

And then there's this rage again...Rage toward Milara, Navarre and whoever else seeks to harm my friends like disposable pawns in some sick game. *another scorch mark*  And in feeling this rage, I've apparently taken to manifesting some kind of energy around my hands.  I can't say I've ever actually seen it...or noticed it happening, but three times now, I've greatly alarmed the people with whom I was speaking...one, Kat, to the point of running away before I realized what was happening. I cannot say I am pleased with this, for I do not wish to harm anyone.  And yet, something Sand said (when he wasn't running around like a crazed maniac) makes me think that perhaps this is something previously unknown that I can tap into and cultivate. I don't know....I think I may have to actively seek out more information on the Weave, what it is, how it works.*an ink blot appears here as if the pen rested on the parchment a bit too long*

I need to meditate on the events of these last few days...put everything in order...try to gain some understanding of it all.  There's just been so much negative, and it weighs heavy upon my heart.  

I just wish that I could hear some good news for a change.

Title: Progress
Post by: Dorganath on February 03, 2005, 07:39:00 AM

In the midst of all this chaos, I have tried to make sense of a lot of things, though it has been quite difficult. I had a long talk with Kat about recent events.  A welcome perspective from my own, to be sure, but the attack...and the poisoning...are too fresh in everyone's minds.  There's so much confusion...so much speculation.

And yet, little by little, I am starting to make sense of it all....at least I think I am.  

I knew I had to clear my head...spend some time alone, before I would be able to sort through this jumble of information.  I decided to head for Blackford Castle and pay a visit to the Lucindite archives there....to think about something else besides the drow assault on Mistone...and on my friends.  As I reached the castle, something compelled me to walk instead into the hills.  I had never realized before how peaceful a location that was.  I sat there and watched the water, listened to the breezes play through the grass, and basically tuned out everything else.  I don't recall how long I sat there, nor what I thought of as I sat.  I know that when I returned to my normal perceptions, the sun had moved greatly in the sky.  I assume it was still the same day.

What brought me back from my meditation was the approach of Naga.  We sat and spoke at great length about the Weave, her (former*) Order and a few other concepts new to me...at least new in the sense of putting them into words. ((The word "former" was added as an after thought and appears above the line of text))

And after our talk, she took me to the archives, where I was going anyway.  She pulled a few books from the shelves and handed them to me, before leaving me to study them in solitude.  Lucindite histories, writings of magic and power, discussions on familiars, theories and observations of the Weave...

I must have read all night and into the next day.  I avoided books that spoke of spell theory and all the other drudery that wizards go through.  I tried that road once long ago, and it simply did nothing for me.  No, it was the Weave itself that intrigued me.  And also, it seems, throughout history there have been quite a few and widely varied Lucindite Orders.  Several still exist today, and a few of those are quite intrigueing.  When matters are not so urgent, I should return and find out more.  I should also take up Kat's offer to study her father's books on the Weave.  

My research and the various talks I've had with people have helped to clarify what the Weave truly is...at least as far as we can perceive it.  One concept in particular rang especially true.  In my previous conversation with Sand, he said he believes that All beings have a spark of magic, and that spark allows them to access the Weave in some way.  The spark is big in some, smaller in most, but all life is touched in some way.  And Naga said something similar.  In essence, she said that the Weave is not some separate "thing" we draw upon to use magic. Rather, we are all part of the Weave...connected to it...infused with it.  We are not separate, we are one.  

Unity. (an ink blot appears here from the pen standing too long)

When I spoke with Sand after the....incident in Hlint a few days ago, Ozy spoke of unity and knowledge.  He mentioned that Milara wants us disjoined and ignorant.  He fears our unity, our strength and our knowledge.  These are probably the keys to his defeat, or at least the defeat of Navarre and the drow hordes he seems to command.

But will anyone listen?  I don't know.  For good reason, those who are in position to help us the most are caught up in a kind of paralysis, and it's hurting their judgement, I think....making them jumpy...causing them to miss opportunities.  I foresee great disagreements ahead if something does not change.

Yet, there has been progress.  This poison has a name: Soul Venon.  It is a "gift" from the drow god Baraeon Ca'Duz.  Made only once every hundred hears.  It infuses itself with the victim's body, eventually consuming it.  The venom can also be activated in some way, causing immediate death that not even the magic of the bindstones can overcome.  Those afflicted with the venom acquire a mark of a spider on their necks.  Work is progressing on a cure, but it will likely take some time....and will likely include danger.

Scherzo continues to work on an antidote, but I have learned that he has allowed himself to become poisoned....even requested it from Navarre himself.  This was either a brave, selfless act...or a foolish one.  Time will surely tell.

And now, there is this business with a paladin of Toran, Lithia Delmir, supposedly the daughter of Remiel Delmir, a man I have met perhaps once in my travels.  She supposedly has a ritual that can stop the progression of the venom. Though this ritual does not cure it outright, it keeps it from damaging the victim further.  I learned of this from Lalaith Va'lash, also aflicted with this venom.  

Plenarius, Celgar, Rhizome...they are all very skeptical of this woman because of her father mostly...partly because of Tom's reaction to her and the timing of her appearance with this ritual.  I can't say I don't understand their reluctance, but at the same time, I don't understand why they would dismiss this small hope out-of-hand.  I know I am not as aware of the intricate histories of the people and places of this land, and I know I am not personally affected, but it seems to me that all possibilities should be checked out, not simply dismissed without investigation.  At a small pond in Hlint the other night, there was much discussion about this issue, and very little listening, it seemed.  Several times I tried to speak up...and was met with no response...no acknowledgement.  I eventually got up and slipped away.  I don't think anyone noticed....at least not right away.

So far, I am unafflicted, and I have not been directly threatened by Navarre.  I think this gives me a certain degree of freedom in the actions I take.  I must try to bring this point up again to the others, and hope they listen.  

But, there has been some good news.  It seems Celgar and Katrien are betrothed.  I am very happy for both of them, and I look forward to the end of this crisis for both of their sakes....and everyone else's of course.  

*written in the side margin* Again...unity.  Unity of spirit and of cause.  The unity of marriage.  There are no coincidences....

*the next section was written more hurried than other entries...likely on a different day than the rest of this entry*

There was an attack outside of Port Hampshire today....what seemed like hundreds of spiders, and some undead.  I have never seen so many spiders, but there were many brave warriors to combat the threat.  They eventually made it inside the city walls, and we fought them off there as well.  Something curious....the spiders....they did not attack the people who were already afflicted, presumably so that Navarre's bargaining tools are not killed before their usefulness has run out.  My heart tells me that this information can be used to our advantage.

Cole Etinfall has been added to the ranks of the afflicted.  Whether this was an accident or not, I do not know, for no threat from Navarre followed. Indeed, Navarre didn't appear at all this time.  Perhaps Cole was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.  

After the spider attack, this Lithia appeared and performed her ritual upon a few of the afflicted who aided in the battle. I observed the ritual closely...reached out and tried to sense the fluctuations in the Weave while it was being performed.  I sensed a great power was in use, but I did not detect anything....sinister.  Then again, my knowledge and experience in such matters is very limited.  Perhaps I should investigate such things on my own.  I also did not get a sense of any deception on her part, and the ritual itself seemed to take a great toll upon her own being.  If Lithia is part of some grand deception by Navarre (*written above the line* or Milara), it is certainly a good one. I may speak with a Toranite....perhaps visit the temple....and see what I can learn about Lithia and this ritual.

Title: Tempest in a small package
Post by: Dorganath on February 05, 2005, 12:43:00 PM

These last few days have been quite eventful, so say the least.  So many people seem to be running around in a panic, trying to solve this drow problem and cure the poison.  Everyone is doing something, few are doing anything together.  

The drow have taken to calling Kat, Lalaith and possibly others (Bris?) their "queen" and the drow seem to respond to their words....as they continue to afflict others with this vile venom.

In the midst of all of this, the boy Tom came to me and asked me for more help with his magic.  I was encouraged by this, as I had been hoping to guide him further, and in doing so, perhaps learn more myself.  I asked Tom for a demonstration of what he could do so far.  He tried, but nothing happened. I thought he was uptight...nervous...and I told him to try to relax.   But he did not wish to relax. He was upset...about his mum and dad...about the poison, the drow, everything.  As his raw emotions surfaced, so too did the magic.  It swirled around him, growing more intense as his emotions grew more intense.  There was little I could do to stop it, so I bade him to let it out.  As his emotions peaked, he released the magic energy in several cones of fire that leapt from his hands.  So much magic flowed through his small body.  It tore at him...drained him...and he collapsed from the strain.

I sat with him...tried to reassure him.  Even in his weakened, collapsed state, magic still flowed and pulsed around him, and it seemed to cause him some discomfort.  I put a hand on his back and tried to channel that energy away from him, into me, then through me and out.

This gave him some relief, though he was still greatly drained and strangely restless.

In the midst of all this, a drow visited his "auntie" Kat, who was nearby.  Tom desperately wanted the comfort of her embrace, but it was not safe.  I took him away, reluctantly, to a place where we could sit and he could rest.  He slept out of sheer exhaustion, but fitfully.  Once more, I laid a hand on his back, but this time, I bade the magic flow into him, though just enough to restore his balance.  With this action, he calmed noticeably and seemed somewhat refreshed, though still tired and weak.

I am pleased that he came to me, and he shows great potential, but he is too young to command such power as he did.  He hasn't the strength yet, and so I must try to teach him control.

Still, in all of this madness, it was a welcome event.

Title: Consequences
Post by: Dorganath on February 05, 2005, 12:44:00 PM

It seems the drow are not satisfied with simply holding a few people hostage to this venom.  More people have been afflicted.  Many of them are my friends...so many that I have started to wonder whether or not I am being targeted for something by the drow.

But it seems, I need not wonder any longer, for now, I am afflicted as well. (the period is larger than normal as ink flowed from the tip of the pen)

The cowardly drow struck me down as I was selling some extra goods at the pawn shop in Hlint, having just stepped foot back in town not one minute prior.  I bear the mark of a spider on my neck now, as all the others before me.  I'm not sure yet what to think.  I find myself alternating between feelings of steely resolve and apathetic despair.

After my attack, I had to get out of town.  I wandered down through Seilwood, picking up a few things along the way....for what purpose I had not yet decided....perhaps it was just habit.  I walked into the Broken Forest and met Talan, who was trying to single-handedly put an end to the undead infestation.  I joined up with him for a bit, tearing into the undead with a fury I had felt few times in my life, if ever.  I didn't even notice my wounds, life-threatening as they were.  But it felt...good.

Talan and I parted ways, and I made my way eventually to Port Hampshire....for what reason, I'm still not sure.  Perhaps I wished, subconsciously, to work the materials I picked up along the way in order to put my mind on something else.  I can't say for sure, but whatever the purpose was, it never happened.

I ran into my friend Kat.  Walking slowly...a distant look in her eyes.  She did not immediately recognize me and continued walking. To be honest, the face I saw wasn't the Kat I knew.  But there must have been a glimmer of recognition, for she turned back and said my name.  We talked for a bit, about her situation...this prophecy regarding some Mother of Darkness.  I kept my hood on for the conversation, not wishing to trouble her with my own affliction, but she guessed it on her own...probably because this accursed spider mark itches greatly.

We spoke more of her and Lalaith, both of whom are being called "queen" by this drow.  Kat mentioned that Lalaith had been given an emblem by the drow....two entwined snakes with rubies for eyes.

* the next few paragraphs are written in a shakier hand than the others *
My heart sank....my stomach felt as though it would consume me...I felt the color drain from my face, and I felt as though I could collapse...almost as I do now, writing this.

At that moment, it all came together for me.  The dark goddess, the prophecy, the snakes...things that I helped put into motion weeks ago through the deception of the Black Wizards.  Everything I felt weeks ago as I watched the five stars rise back into the heavens was now doubled as I realized the depths of what I had helped unleash.

"It's my fault..." I remember saying...All of this, set in motion by my hand, at least in part.  Kat urged me to speak of it, but I could not.  Perhaps later.... (from the last period there is a squiggly line ending in a large, smeared ink blot)

Title: Giants
Post by: Dorganath on February 09, 2005, 07:29:00 AM

I've had many travels here on Layonara.  Normally, I would not write about something as mundane as a mining trip.  Only this time, it was unlike any mining trip ever before.

In the first place, we never actually got around to mining.

Talan had put together a respectable group in Hlint to go mining for gold in Rilara.  I joined up because I thought the diversion from all this drow business would do me good.  We made our way to Port Hampshire and then Point Harbor, and picked up a few more people along the way.  It was a good group.  Not overly powerful, but we complimented each others' special abilities.

As we left Point Harbor, Derrick suggested we go the "fun" way...which also turned out to be the long way. I knew full well what Derrick's idea of fun would be, but I wasn't complaining.  Though it has kept me alive quite well, I do sometimes tire of taking the "safe" way.  A little challenge and danger are good for the soul, I think. Anyway, our path would take us through the Wolfwood Forest.

We crossed through the vale near the Belgaer Hills on the outskirts of Wolfswood Forest....the oen kept by those rangers there, and continued deeper into the forest itself.  We came across giants, guarding their hill.  Normally, these giants are challenging, but not if handled correctly.  This time, however, they were fierce.

And someone taught them how to use crossbows.

Several people fell, including our only healer, Yashilla.  I myself was very close to death from too many of the giants' bolts piercing my meager protections. To escape, used my power to hide myself from the sight of the giants. After I did that, I could see that fortunately Yashilla's wounds were not that severe.  Her bleeding stopped on its own and I felt she would recover.  But there stood over her a giant....critically wounded, but still alive, and strong enough to strike down Yashilla for good, if she were to rise from the ground.

I knew I had little time.  I healed myself with what few spare potions I had.  To protect Yashilla, I turned her invisible as well, so that if she revived, she would not be attacked.  Finally, I put some distance between myself and this giant, surrounded myself in magical protections, readied my sword and crossbow should I need them and called Ember to my side.  When I was prepared, I summoned the Weave and hurled bright blue balls of magical energy at the giant.  To my surprise, he did not charge me and attack.  Instead, however, he let loose with his crossbow.  Another volley of magic energy....more shots from the giant....yet another volley, and the giant fell.

Yashilla recovered and regained her footing.  The magic of the bindstones had already grabbed three of our fallen friends.  One still lay on the ground, and Yashilla still had enough strength to raise him.  Having done all we could, we fled back into the relative safety of the vale.

We awaited the return of our fellows taken by the bindstones.  And we discussed the unusual nature of these giants.  Never before had they been to strong...so ruthless...so deadly.

And....we were visited by a very strange man, but I will write of him later. *an arrow points to the next page*

Having taken heavy losses already, we decided not to continue with the mining trip, fearing more losses to those unnatural hill hounds that live in and around the cave where gold is found.  Instead, we returned to Mistone and took our vengeance upon the giants of the Silent Watch.

It wasn't until later....much later...as I sat in the hills west of Blackford Castle, watching the sea, that I remembered something from several weeks prior.

I was in Rilara, gathering cranberries and a few other assorted resources, when I came across Rhizome, a druid of considerable power and status.  I had met Rhizome a few nights prior, before the undead rose and attacked.  We chatted briefly Near the Delwin River about the outcome of his quest to find a box...something that would put an end to the red fog that had been plagueing the land for months. *in the margin...(They was successful)*

Suddenly, his elven eyes caught sight of something, and he bade me, urgently, to run.  I ran to Lake Rillon and waited for Rhizome's return.  A few moments later, he caught up with me and told me about what he saw.  "One of Milara's giants..." he said.  The very name gave me a chill.  "Stay here, and whatever you do, do NOT come to the river.  And make sure no one else does, either."  With that, he returned to investigate the giant.

I never found out what happened next. As I waited, the woodland creatures...a couple white stags and an owl...began acting very strangely...nudging me around the lake and eventually into the walls of Fort Himlad. I waited there for some time, but did not once catch sight of Rhizome nor did I hear from him again that day.  Though I have since seen Rhizome, I have not had a chance to speak with him on the matter.

The point of this story is that I now believe those giants we fought in Rilara last night were also Milara's giants. If this is true, then it makes Rilara even more dangerous than it was before.

Title: A strange man
Post by: Dorganath on February 09, 2005, 07:48:00 AM

As I mentioned earlier, as we recovered from and discussed the strength of the Giants in Wolfwood, we were visited by a very strange fellow.  He appeared out of nowhere in a flash...an older gentleman with white hair and beard...carried a large axe and looked like he knew how to use it.  And he called himself Crayson. None of these things was too peculiar (not anymore....maybe 6 months ago...).

The odd thing was he said he knew us.  Most of us, anyway.  He said we were old friends...and talked about how young we all looked.  But none of us knew him as a friend, nor had we ever met him before.  When confronted with this fact, he told us that he was sorry....and that we haven't actually met yet.

This was quite confusing to us all.  How could we be old friends with someone we had not yet met?  He seemed to know about events that have not yet happened...though I'm not sure how such a thing is possible.

He's probably some old fool, playing a joke on a group of battered adventurers in some distorted type of amusement for him.

Only....he knew our names, and I did not sense deception in his voice (though my record on that account has been lacking of late).  And he weilded great power.  I saw it when he demonstrated how he gets past giants by himself....and I....felt it, I suppose, though I'm not really sure how.

He left as he arrived, in a dazzle of light and magic.  And yet, within a couple of minutes, he reappeared, saw us and was terrified. "Who are you people?!?!?" he asked with fear in his eyes. "Please don't eat me!!!!...." With that, he ran off and disappeared.

What a strange man....

But in all, I was encouraged by his visit.  Several of our group...myself, Kat, Yashilla, Lalaith, Cole...have all been afflicted by this drow venom.  While Crayson did not speak what happens, how we solve this problem (he didn't want to "spoil the ending" as he put it), his words gave me new hope.

He spoke of things we will do...he spoke of us being "old friends"...which means....we have a future, and that is very encouraging.

Title: A meeting...and a seige
Post by: Dorganath on February 11, 2005, 06:47:00 AM

Last night, there was a meeting to discuss everything we knew about the drow attacks, the venom and its ultimate purpose.  Many people were in attendance, though there were a few more I would have liked to see....people who undoubtedly have another, perhaps broader, perspective that may have been valuable.  But, no matter.  I will seek them out separately, if needed, and tell others what I learn from them.

The meeting went well.  Very orderly, despite the tension and charged emotions surrounding this whole business. There was some new information, some old.  I tried to write it all down, though my notes were rather hastily written, and I believe I'll have to recopy them for clarity.

Afterward in various locales, there were more spider attacks, and as before, they seemed to purposefully avoid certain people.  I was in Leilon, speaking with Yashilla, when two large sword spiders attacked us.  Yashilla destroyed one through the power granted her by Mist.  To give myself more time to assess the attack, I shrouded myself in magical invisibility, then ran to Yashilla to do the same.  As I reached her, the spider ran toward her, but stopped short before attacking her, then turning as if looking for something or someone (me, perhaps?). I seized the opportunity and cloaked Yashilla in invisibility as well.  The spider turned away, wandered around for a while, and eventually gave up. I observed this same behavior in Port Hampshire several days ago, and it seems directly related to the "marking" of some people.

A short time later, Kat and Lalaith came into town, speaking of another spider attack elsewhere. While we spoke, we waited for Talan to arrive, who was supposedly to follow Lalaith and Kat.  When he did not appear, Lalaith became very concerned.  Add to that, Kat and Lalaith noticed a stink in the air, though I could not, and we could not tell where it came from...or what it was, but Kat thought it was the scent of stone....burning.

Eventually, we decided to go in search of Talan, to put Lal's mind at ease.  As we searched the road between Leilon and their home in Seilwood, we checked for signs of fire...or seige.  We found nothing, though the scent grew stronger as we headed toward the East. We paused at Blackford, to make sure the castle was not in danger.  As we prepared to continue, a mighty shock shook the very ground, knocking us from our feet.  I'm not sure what made me fall more...the upheaval of the ground or the sense that the Weave itself had rippled, like the surface of a tranquil pond after casting in a large stone.

Along the road between Fort Llast and Hlint, we were passed by a group of people dressed in blue and white (Lucindites, perhaps?) walking from the east to the west.  We tried speaking to them, but they did not respond.  And odd sight, to be sure...and for some reason, it bothered me greatly.

Outside of Hlint, Rak said that Haven was under attack from the drow.  We passed through Hlint.  There were signs of a small battle, but nothing significant...and the town was practically empty, save the usual fixtured like Talon, Garent, Ronus and Vale. We continued out the east gate, down past the lake and into Haven.  Nothing, except for Kit going about her patrol.  And the smell grew more and more noticeable.  And suddenly, I had a dread feeling I knew the source of the smell.....Spellgard.

We continued south in a hurry, and encountered a large group of people at the Bay of Bagira....among them, Talan.  They confirmed to us what I had feared since Haven....

Spellgard had fallen to the drow.

As if that were not enough, the accursed drow had hanged, crucified and generally defiled what again appeared to be Lucindites (dressed the same as those we saw on the road) and left them for display as a warning to any surfacers who dared enter the city.  I held back my rage but it was difficult.  By the Mother, if those accursed drow have defiled the Temple of Lucinda there..... *large ink blot*

And as we assessed what had happened and tended to our wounded....Milara showed himself to us, then walked off toward the desert without a word.

Title: Another visit
Post by: Dorganath on February 13, 2005, 09:07:00 AM

Until today, I knew of two people who have been afflicted by this drow poison who had also been visited by a drow assassin, who insists on calling them their queen.  Until today, it was Kat and Lalaith who had the "priviledge" of such visitors.  Today, I came upon a third....Mirren.

She seemed quite confused...quite overwhelmed. Those around her were hostile toward the drow...some to their own demise, temporary as it was.  I admit, had I not known what I knew, I probably would have acted the same.  From my talks with Kat and Lalaith, I knew Mirren was the only one who could have sent the drow away.  But she wanted no part of it.  She resented being called their queen, and was resistant to commanding the drow to leave, as it would acknowledge her power over them.

I understood her resistance, but I also knew it was the only recourse.  I felt like I pushed her into something she didn't want...and I suppose in a way, I did.  I feel bad for doing that, but standing outside the Wild Surge with a drow assassin nearby was no place to explain to her the reasons.

After the drow left, we went into the inn with Lue and I told them both everything I knew from personal experience and at the recent meeting we had on this matter...the poison and the prophecy.  I hope after explaining everything that she understood my insistence, and I hope she does not think less of me for forcing her hand as I did.  Mara joined us part way through, and later Nethro came to our table.  He had been struck down by the drow assassin after Mirren sent him away.  I thought I heard the drow mention something about the price of idiocy or foolishness as he stood over Nethro's newly-poisoned body, but he was many yards off, and I cannot be sure.  At any rate, I spoke nothing of this to Nethro when he wondered why he was stricken.  His attitude was bad enough, and I had no patience for his tone this day.

Much later, I again met up with Mara, and then Quin. The three of us spoke at great length....about the poison...Mirren's visit...and what ever else I knew.  I felt somewhat uncomfortable telling Quin about what this visit may mean for Mirren....the possibility that he could lose her to this prophecy....

We spoke of many plans...may possible courses of action.  We agreed on some, though the plans with the greatest chance for success may come at the highest price, and force some people to make some very difficult choices.

I hope he also does not think ill of me for bearing such unpleasant news. *large ink blot*

And Quin mentioned there was one other who was visited....a halfling named Buppi Fallenleaf.  I wonder how long it will be until Yashilla, Brisbane and a few others will be visited.  How many more will there be?

Title: Note to self
Post by: Dorganath on February 14, 2005, 06:55:00 AM

*written in unusually bold and large letters*
A note for the future:


*written normally*
Especially in matters of raw emotion and dire circumstances, I need to be more careful in my choice of words.


*a double-line box is drawn around all text and nothing else appears on the page*
*the page is dog-eared as a place-holder.

Title: Secrets and lies
Post by: Dorganath on February 15, 2005, 07:42:00 AM

It seems I have slipped into a role of advisor and confidante.  I am glad that my friends feel comfortable enough to tell me such things...to confide in me and trust me with such things.

I know of plans...concerns...feelings.  Truths...lies...deceptions...things kept hidden to protect others.  Things important to all....things important to only a few.  And in some cases....things that I am not to speak of with anyone else.  Things have been said to me in confidence, and there they must stay...I pray for not too much longer.

I have been asked, more than once now, to not disclose certain things to anyone else. And I have given my word...something my father told me never to break.  "Your word is your honor, son," he would say. "Your word is your bond.  For better or for worse, if you cannot keep it, do not give it." I have always spoken my mind freely and without much in the way of subtlety.  In this matter with the drow, I have given what information I know freely.  And now...I must speak of some things in nuances...or not at all...except to those who have placed their trust in me.  As if the convoluted machinations and schemes of the drow were not enough....*ink blot*

I have considered writing them down here in my journal, to help me keep them all straight...but I cannot be sure that it is secure, and cannot risk someone else reading what I have written.

I wonder what I will do if asked directly by someone else...of a subject of which I already know but have sworn to keep secret.   What if the person asking already knows the truth?  Do I answer and confirm what they have said?  Do I lie and draw them away from the truth *written above this line* (but at what cost?) ?  

Or perhaps I say nothing and hope that my face does not betray the truth.

For as long as I am able, I will keep my word.... *large ink blot*

Title: Origins
Post by: Dorganath on February 22, 2005, 06:45:00 AM

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about where I'm from.  Perhaps recent events, and the people I've spoken to about them, have got me thinking along those lines.

I suppose it first started with wondering about where magic came from. I now know that is the Weave, and the Weave comes from Lucinda.  To wonder on it further would likely confuse me...and it is an explanation I can live with.

I've wondered many other things, but most recently, I've wondered about myself.  I recently recalled a conversation I had with Kat soon after the first drow attacks and poisonings...seems like ages ago.  We spoke of many things...of our origins...our families.  And I told her the story my father told me about the night he found me.

Since he told me that, I had always wondered many things.  How could I be half-elven when no one had seen an elf, except in stories, for untold generations (if they ever really existed at all)? Why was I spared the flame when everything else around me was burned black? Who was that charred corpse found near me?  And strangest of all, how could the corpse have simply vanished the next day?

Since I came here, I have wondered about my magic.  How could I be born of a world where there is no knowledge of the Weave or Lucinda (or any other god remotely similar), and still possess an in-born ability to use magic?  How is it that I could do accidentally as a child what it took the wizards of my world years of study and practice to accomplish?  And why do the old stories not ever mention any others like myself?

So many questions...so few answers.  But Kat mentioned something in this conversation that has recently struck me.  For whatever reason, it came to me again the other day. I was telling her about that night long ago, and about the burnt body found nearby...and how it had disappeared the next day.  

"Maybe it was a bindstone," she said.

I shook my head. "No, we did not have such things on my world."

"Neither did we," she repiled.  "But perhaps that person came from a world that did."

A world with bindstones....

A world such as this one....

Could it be?  *large ink blot from resting the pen*

Is it possible that one (or both) of my true parents still lives and can be found right here?

Is it possible that the call from the Dragon was really a call....home? *the last word was written as though the writer's hand shook badly*

Title: Schemes
Post by: Dorganath on February 22, 2005, 07:03:00 AM

What is the true plan of the drow?  Is that even the real endgame?  Lately, I have begun to suspect...strongly...that it is not...that this business with poison and prophecies is only one small part of a much bigger...and probably more sinister...plot.

But what?

While I think I was always aware that it was more than just the Drow, lately I have become more and more certain that the drow are being used...just as they are using us.

I'm writing now with my back to a wall, in a small aclove where I can observe all approaches.  I do this to avoid any snooping to what I write...to keep from allerting our enemy ( the word "enemy" has a line drawn through it and is replaced with: ) enemies of this suspicion...though surely they know that we suspect.

The drow have plans.  HE ********* has plans. The outcome of each seems to depend upon another.  This much is obvious.  What we lack is good, solid information, so that we may take advantage...turn these schemes to our benefit.
(********* is a word that has been scratched out beyond recognition)


*written later as an afterthought*


And why has it taken the Aragenites so long to respond to my request? Why will they not grant us a look at their archives, or at least allow us to meet with an archivist and learn what we can about the drow, their poison and their prophecy?  Are they in on this as well?  The collectors and sharers of knowledge suddenly quiet?

I may just need to show up at their door and escalate matters myself....that is, if I can find my way there.

Title: Developments
Post by: Dorganath on February 26, 2005, 10:53:00 AM

First the good news.  

I have finally received word from the Aragenites regarding my request.  Time is short, and I must gather a group of people to aid me in the journey.  I hope they are willing and able to do so.  There is much to do before this journey.  Many people to speak with and much to prepare.  I have waited weeks for a response, and now I must do everything in days.

Also, I quite accidentally bore witness to the engagement of Quin and Mirren. While I don't think the timing was to Quin's liking, the result is the same.  Afterward I toasted their future together with some of Mirren's own spirits.  Quin is a lucky man; that lass can cook!

But....

Events with the drow are taking an unexpected turn.  I suppose...not entirely unexpected in part, but they concern me greatly.  The first casualty of these events is the end of Celgar and Katrien's engagement. *large ink blot*

There is more...much more...but I cannot write of it yet.  It is enough to say that my perceptions have been altered...again....and I cannot help but to be torn between feeling happy for my friends and fearing for their very souls.  The events of the next few days will undoubtedly shed some light on these things....bring some clarity.

I hope...*large ink blot*

Title: Knowledge and Trust
Post by: Dorganath on March 01, 2005, 06:37:00 AM

The time of our journey has finally come.  Kat, Lalaith, Talan and I made our way to the Aragenite archive in Casterly Castle...along with an escort of two drow "patrons" as guides and protectors...the ones bound to Kat and Lalaith....*ink blot*

I was not expecting their company...though I should have realized they would come along.  This was the first time that I had seen either in such a capacity. Veldrin I had seen only briefly, and Lar...never.  I was uneasy...on edge.  I watched them with suspicion and doubt, though in deference to my friends, I tried to keep my mind open, as I promised I would...to try to see what they see in these two assassins, and how they feel about them.  I struggle to trust them. I watched them closely on our journey.  I have seen what appears to be genuine concern and affection, but also I see much darkness in them...anger and hatred. It is contained...buried, but how deeply? And for how long? And what will happen if it rises again?

And I fought the urge to demand of them to tell me which one stabbed me those many weeks ago and afflicted me with this dread venom.... *ink blot*

As it turns out, their presence was more valuable than I could have guessed...and hoped. And for this, I am grateful.

In all, the journey was a success, and while many questions were answered, many more were created.  We learned much of the "gift" that the chosen seem to possess.  We learned a little more of the Tol'eflor. And a we learned a few things gave me cause for great concern.  I'm probably over-thinking things...it seems I'm been prone to that lately...but I cannot dismiss the chilling possibilities they suggest.  Not  yet.

It is likely....a certainty...that another journey is in our futures.  Sooner than later, farther and more difficult.  Until then, the four of us need to think upon what we have learned and to share what we suspect.

Title: A welcome dream
Post by: Dorganath on March 01, 2005, 07:09:00 AM

I lay in the grass in the hills west of Blackford Castle, staring out at the water, letting the cool breezes and sounds of water wash over me.  An amber moon hung in the sky, it's light twinkling off the ripples in the water, mixing with the starlight on a cloudless night making the water appear as a sea of gems.  My eyes grew heavy, my blinking became slower, deeper.  Another blink, and my eyes opened with a start.  I was no longer in the hills, but where was I?  I did not recognize the place.  It was strange and unfamiliar, yet I felt comforted.  It was a meadow on a hill, surrounded by thick forests.  A few stray trees and boulders dotted the field.   Like one other dream before, the sky, the field...everything was washed in a glow of lights of every color and hue.  Strands of light flowed together, across each other, parallel to each other, woven together. I looked around. The glow flowed around everything.  No...Through everything....No, that's not right either.  The wind blew the leaves in the trees and the grass on the ground.  And as they flowed and swayed in the wind, so too did the strands of light.  A leaf blew fell from a tree, and I watched it...seeing every detail, every flit of motion as the leaf fell.  It seemed to take an eternity as I watched.  A single strand of light played about the leaf as it fell....as it touched down, strands from the ground washed over the leaf, and the single strand that was on the leaf blended with the others.  I walked around, my motion slowed, but not hindered...as if my own perceptions were faster. Strands of light swirled about me...through me...warming me with their gentle touches.  I looked down at a bright glow on the ground.  A tree sapling was pushing through the grass, and the glow was surrounding it.   The closer I looked, the more detail I saw.  What looked like a bright clow was really hundreds...thousands of miniscule threads of light, all swirling in concert in, out and around the sapling.  I stood and continued walking.  Every leaf on every tree had a faint glow.  The fruit on the trees glowed like lanterns. I reached to pick a fruit from the tree and stopped.  As my hands moved, the strands moved with me and continued their flow through me.  I watched this in fascination as I moved my hands back and forth.  A voice sounded within my head...  >  My hands continued to move, though I did not guide them.  My voice uttered sounds that I did not speak.  The glow around me intensified and flowed into me from all directions.  My hands moved in a familiar pattern as a new glow built and intensified in front of me, fed by an increasing stream of strands from all around.  My hands stopped and pushed outward against the new glow, my voice was silenced, the glow around me and in front of me intensified for a brief moment as they joined together.  Three glowing orbs, a familiar sight by now, issued forth from this glow and arced gracefully toward a boulder.  They flew slowly, as everything else in the dream, and as they flew, I watchted the strands.  The orbs were not separate things at all, but ripples in the ever-present glow.  Strands of light swirled, knotted and rolled toward their target, and all three flowed along the path of three distinct strands of light, guiding them like deep ruts in a road guide the wheels of a wagon.  They struck their target, and the glowing light surrounded the boulder and dissipated back into the strands.  I looked at my hands again.  Tendrils of light played about them, moved over them, through them.  Flowing and swirling as I moved them through the air.  Suddenly everything made sense. "This is the Weave..." I thought.  The answer came as a wisper on the strands of light themselves:  >  I took a moment and marveled in this new perception.  The Weave was everywhere.  It was a part of everything and everything was a part of it. I understood, and the realization opened up a part of my mind that I had not previously known.  >  I concentrated on the Weave, pulling it too me, watching it flow into me and gather between my hands.  I had gathered more energy than ever before, but I did not feel scared or in danger, but rather in complete control.  The enery built, swelled and flared.  I released it and pushed it from me as the Weave flowed through me.  The release sailed to that same boulder and the Weave reacted, shining briefly with the intensity of the sun.  The Weave flowed in as if pulled by some great force, then outward as the energy was released.   I watched in marvel as the Weave around the boulder faded to its prior state and the intensity of the discharge faded  slowly into its surroundings.   I felt something...a presence behind me.  I turned to look.  There behind me, the Weave had formed a shape...a figure of a...person?  It was hard to tell...the exact form was obscured by the bright glow it radiated....a nearly pure white with touches of blue at the edges.  The Weave streamed into this form...no...from this form...playing happily about it, cradling it.  The glow approached silently...moving without walking.  As it neared, I could discern a face...a woman's face, though I did not recognize it.  The face smiled and the shape glowed even brighter and I squinted to protect my eyes.  The brightness surrounded me until I could see nothing else.  It increased to a searing intensity that I could see even with my eyes closed tightly....  ....and then it was gone.  I opened my eyes and was back in the hills near Blackford, with the morning sun cresting over the water. In my ears, there echoed a word...a remnant of the dream perhaps....  >

Title: Two
Post by: Dorganath on March 08, 2005, 06:24:00 AM

*written on a page by itself in an unusually careful and flowing hand*
  There are two who were, but are now no more.
  There are two who are, but for how long?
  There are two who are the same, but different?
  There are two who are true, but are they?
  Two impressions of truth, Two sides to each tale.
  Two who are bonded, Two who are sundered.
  Two souls that hang in the balance, Two parts of the same whole.
  Two secrets to keep, Two questions for one answer.
  Two who trust, Two who are trusted.
  Two who have found joy, Two who have found pain.
  Two paths to walk, Two lives to lead.
  Two arms embrace, Two hands entwined.
  Two eyes that do not see, Two hearts that may never be.
  Two gifts and only one heir, Two gifts not equally shared.
  Two outcomes, Two fates.
  But in the end, there is only.....
   one

Title: Possible
Post by: Dorganath on March 16, 2005, 10:27:00 AM

*written hurriedly, almost to the point of being illegible*
  It's possible...truly possible.  It's within our reach. Difficult, but it can be done.  For the first time in weeks, there is truly hope....
  And there is much more to learn.....
  *the last word degrades into a series of indeterminent bumps, and the ink is smeared as if the book was shut before it fully dried*

Title: Choices
Post by: Dorganath on March 18, 2005, 11:24:00 AM

*written on a page by itself in an unusually careful and flowing hand*
  A choice...
  To stay or go To fight or flee To confront or avoid For you For me
  A choice...
  To be weak or strong To be false or true To be led or to lead For me For you
  A choice....
  Between death and life For oneself, for another Between poison and cure To let burn or to smother
  To be blind or to see In the dark or the light To persuade or coerce With guile or with might
  Through strength of heart Or weakness of will To rely on luck Or trust in skill
  A choice to reveal A choice to conceal
  To embrace and accept To discard and reject
  To love, to hate To destiny, to fate
  A link to make A chain to break
  A step to take A path to forsake
  A splash in a puddle Or a drop in the sea Who will choose And who will be...
   Chosen

Title: Threats
Post by: Dorganath on April 15, 2005, 05:55:00 AM

They're at it again.  The Watchers were recalled, and there was a period of calm.  The Ritual has started, and as a result, the walls between this world and Shadow are breaking down.  The Council awakens.....

And now, they move again, striking fear into the hearts of the previously unconcerned.

They have threatened the very souls of a few people who were at the wrong place at the wrong time.  Their souls now hang in the balance. But with the completion of a simple task for each of them, their burdens will be lifted.

Or so they were told.

I don't believe it for a second.  

This is a trap. I feel that with every fiber of my being.   They want things...things that will help them succeed.  Unwilling or unable to get them for themselves, they prey on others...on those who did not know...who were not aware...and who don't realize what is truly at stake.  It's far more than the souls of a few people.   If these few are successful and do what is asked of them, hundreds will succumb to the Venom, and countless more will fall when our enemy turns the sky black with hatred and reclaims the surface as their own.  

Do they realize how many souls they will trade in exchange for their own?  These few must be made to understand.  That may be difficult...but it is what must be.  They have to be stopped, one way or the other.  I will not allow the enemy to gain that which will harm our efforts and ensure their victory...not while I still draw breath.

The time of wating is over.  The time for action is upon us.

And I think the time has come to talk to.....it.

Title: Lost, Found and Restored
Post by: Dorganath on April 18, 2005, 01:43:00 PM

16 Apreal, 1382

My word was given, and my word was kept.  Once again, I joined a group of adventurers to aid the Lost Library.  Since the last time we were there, an unbelievable amount of gold was raised mostly by Triba and Serenity/Eldarwen to support the effort of returning the Lost Library to the surface of this world for all to see. With most things of great importance, gold was not the only condition upon its return.

The library, at the insistence of the elves, was to be returned to Voltrex. To ensure all peoples would be permitted unfettered access to the Library, a deal was struck between ourselves, the Five Towers on Voltrex and Queen Allurial and her sisters. This deal will establish a portal between Mistone and the library on Voltrex for as long as Lucinda is alive and in control of the Weave.  In exchange, Lucinda will aid Katia in the heavens.  It was a great honor to gain audience with the Queen, though I found myself to be quite intimidated by her presence and the presence of her sisters.

With the deal in place, we once again sought out the Ulgrids and their great underground port.  We sailed for weeks searching for the location of the library, so that we may get close enough to make use of some device in Ozy's possession that would return us all to the library to begin the process of returning it to the surface.  Along the way, we were ambushed by pirates, but we were able to defeat them and we took their ship to add to our efforts.  

And so, once again...and for the last time...I stood in the Lost Library.  The next time I see it, it will no longer be "lost."  As I wandered among the countless stacks and rows of books, I could not help thinking that all the answers I and others have sought in recent months concerning the recent machinations of the drow would be found in this very place.  Ancient knowledge, lost for centuries, now available once again. But, I am hopelessly bad at finding anything in libraries...as my last several trips to libraries have proven.  I found nothing pertaining to my own questions, but I saw enough that I could spend my entire lifetime and only scratch the surface of what is contained in this place.

But our time was cut short.  We needed to return and begin the process, by ships and by magic, of bringing the library up and transporting it to Voltrex.  And having fulfilled his purpose so faithfully for centuries uncounted as the caretaker of the library, Arenski Preillarn ceased to be.  All that remains of him is the library itself and dust.

Once rebuilt on Voltrex, the portal to the library will remain open as long as Lucinda is alive (whatever that means to a god) an in control of the Weave.  I pray things remain so.  I cannot imagine how things would be without Her.

Yet, in this triumph there is concern, for this night, the constellation of the Serpent struck out at the Heart, I can only assume this is becau... *the last word trails off abruptly into illegibility and is smudged as if the journal was closed too quickly*

*there is a small scorch march on the parchment as well, roughly in the shape of the side of a hand and positioned about where one's hand would be after writing the word "Serpent"*

Title: Unwanted attention
Post by: Dorganath on April 18, 2005, 01:44:00 PM

He...has come.  Our actions with the Library have been noticed, and brought his wrath upon Hlint and those who aided in bringing about the Library's return.

It was him...here.

The Enemy

Blood

I was struck down, as were many.  My knowledge of the events is small, for I was killed very early.  I only know through second-hand accounts.  He is said to have ridden a red dragon (could it be true?).  He struck without mercy...without warning....and with little defense.  He left, and the priests and healers tended to the wounded and dead.

In the lull, the icons of the Serpent and the Scorpion appeared in town.  Younger fools approached them.  Those who had seen the statues before observed from a safe distance.  And then...

A second attack came some time later, and Milara struck at us with his own fury.  Again, I fell along with many others.   Too many.  In the midst of the carnage, Blood appeared again and gave a warning to Triba.

Was it posturing, or shades of hardship to come?  Time will tell, but one thing is certain....

We sure got his attention.

Title: A letter to the Queen
Post by: Dorganath on April 20, 2005, 04:03:00 PM

*Connor sits on the stage in Hlint. He takes a notebook from his pack filled with notes and things most notably regarding alchemy, thoughts on the Weave and the Drow and their plans. He turns to a fresh page and begins to write*
  For the Eyes of Her Majesty Queen Allurial:
  My Queen,
  I am sure by now word has reached you regarding our findings in the Serpent Isles. I will contribute my understanding to the information you may already have, in order thay you may form a more complete picture of the situation.
  A few of my companions and I believe this power to be something known to the Tol'eflor as the Cradle. It is a power source of ancient and unfathomable proportions. Katrien Hommel, Lalaith Va'lash and I have studied this for some time now, though it was not until we arrived on the Dragon Isles that we began to realize that the power you sent us to investigate and the Cradle were likely one and the same. It is the power of Creation, Life and Death itself.
  When the Tol'eflor left this world, the Cradle was to be tended by three families of Firstborn. Since that time, the families have fallen from memory, their bloodlines diluted among the races, and the Cradle grows more and more chaotic after millennia of neglect.
  We did not approach the Cradle. My studies of the Cradle tell me that for most, to approach the cradle means certain death. We received confirmation enough regarding what we sought when we encountered Navarre along our journey, as well as much resistance from the drow. No doubt word of their attack on Port Hampshire has also reached your ears. I do not trust this Fallen of Toran, but his words confirmed what I had already suspected.
  Instead, we sought and found the homes of the three families of the Firstborn, tasked by the Tol'eflor with tending and maintaining the cradle. The Firstborn have passed from life long ago, but we were able to recover some information and artifacts from these homes, and we are working to assimilate them into our understanding.
  The Cradle, however, is not what we should fear. There is a greater threat...that of the Drow...of which My Queen is no doubt aware. For some time now, myself and a few others have known that the Drow seek to enter this Cradle in order that they may wield its power and fill the Cradle with hate and anger. They have planned this for centuries uncounted, and it seems that now the time of action is upon them, and us as well. If they are successful, they will blacken our skies and reclaim the surface where once they lived ages ago.
  The Drow have recently begun their rituals, and in so doing, the walls between our Realm and the Shadow Realm have become thin and have started to break down. I believe that the recent changes in the Silent Watch are a direct result of this activity by the Drow.
  My Queen, your summons honored me greatly, and I would eagerly welcome another chance to serve at your pleasure. There is much I can tell you of the Drow and their plans and each day increases my understanding in these matters. You need only say the word and I shall provide whatever counsel or aid you and the people of Mistone...indeed, the people of Layonara....require.
  In closing, I would like to advise you of the bravery and determination of the others who you summoned for this task. They fought well and protected the group. We could not have learned what we learned without their aid.
  Your humble servant in the Name of Lucinda,  Connor Garvill
  *Carefully, he tears the page from its bindings and folds the letter in thirds, then tucks the notebook into his pack*
  *He rises and walks to Blackford Castle. Upon reaching the castle, he hands the note to a guard, with the request to deliver it to the Queen*
  *As he leaves the castle, he rests his staff on his shoulder and walks off, humming an unremarkable tune whose tempo matches the pace of his steps*

Title: Urgency
Post by: Dorganath on May 13, 2005, 10:24:00 AM

Very crafty, these Drow.  The terrorize the people of this world for months, poisoning, killing, striking fear.  And then, they're gone.  The watchers returned, their contracts complete.  We're left in silence...a relative calm that has lulled us into complacency.  Very clever, indeed.

But now, that is changing.  The Ritual has begun, and its effects have been seen in the mountains near Fort Hope as the walls between this realm and the Shadow Realm begin to break down.  I have only heard bits and pieces of what has become of those mountains...enough to know I should stay away.

The Council has taken note of our actions and seeks to rob us of our strengths.  As their tools, they are using a handful of our own people...good people who were in a dire situation and bargained for their lives, though they really had no idea what they had done. The Council has given them each a task...a simple task to obtain something and return it to them: Kat's flute, my book, Veldrin's sword, the Fairy Mound.  The "reward" for this task is their souls.  The penalty...death.  Yet their success means the doom of us all.  There was fear among them at first, but now, I think, there is understanding, though I do not like playing with the lives of others.  Yet, there are plans being made.  I need to speak with Annie and Gloin.

Word has reached me through a fellow named Goldwin that Yashilla was attacked by a drow assassin only a day or two ago.  This does not bode well for the others.  We must once again live with our wits poised at the tip of a sword.

Since our trip to the Serpent Isles, I have scarecely seen either Kat or Lalaith.  Lalaith I have seen only in passing...a quick "hello" and then she was gone.  Yesterday, I encountered Kat in Pranzis as I stopped off during an exploration trip to Dregar.  We spoke for hours about recent events. It was a good talk, but not as insightful, I think, as either of us would hope.  We need to try and gather the rest of the family *the pen paused briefly here*.  

Lalaith has the journals from the other two houses.  Perhaps by now she has them translated, and we can make some more sense of things. I'll have to try to find her, but her ability to slip in and out of the shadows might make that difficult unless she wants to be found.  Perhaps I will leave her a note.

Another day in Dregar, I think, and then I shall head back home.  Travelling helps me think, but the time for action is upon us.

Title: Deals with Dragons
Post by: Dorganath on May 18, 2005, 06:27:00 AM

Why did I ever agree to go?  Maybe it was a need for a diversion.  A long journey to speak with the green dragon to supposedly complete some deal made between all of the remaining chromatics. Within the Green's lair, magic is wild and untamed.  It was a very strange place, both fascinating and utterly terrifying at the same time.  I did not dare to use my magic within those halls, even when my protections dissipated.

I had never before truly seen a live dragon.  And to be honest, the experience was not pleasant, nor was it for the dwarf Brac'ar who did all the talking to the dragon.  We sealed a deal with the dragons to unite against Blood.  The prospect of bearing witness to such a pivotal even in Layonara's history was too much for me to pass up.

And yet...we were apparently unsuccessful.  The green dragon agreed, but there is apparently another goal of these dragons, one that chills me to my core. *the pen pauses*  I can not seem to write of it....for fear it would actually come true. I will say, however, that I was stunned when I learned that those who brokered this deal would even tolerate such a provision. Who are they to bargain with things they do not even possess???

It is this secondary goal that seems to be the problem.  We visited an odd fellow named Ozlo, who berated us about the lack of unity to the cause.  He may be right, but by the gods! Was he ever rude!

So it would seem that the goal has not yet been accomplished, though it is not lost.  Even so, Blood has once again taken notice of our actions.  He appeared before some of us as we returned from the dragon's lair, though I did not see him.  And as we traveled to see this Ozlo fellow, it was apparent that Blood has begun moving his forces, as we were beset by demons, the likes of which I have never seen.

Title: Change, Pain and Loss
Post by: Dorganath on May 18, 2005, 06:28:00 AM

So much has changed, and not all for the best. Sometimes I wonder why I ever left my home.  It wasn't perfect, but it was at least...stable.  Bah!  Who am I kidding?  This place is my home now, for better or for worse.  I will have to accept the changes that come and adapt.  There is no other choice.

A friend is no longer who he was...or perhaps he is becoming again as he once was long ago.  It was he who attacked Yashilla recently, much to my shock and disbelief.  Either way, the pain is real. When his change is complete, I fear the only thing left of him will be his Gift to me... gift that perhaps changed both of us in ways we could not predict. Music comes to me now in a way it never has before.  I hear it everywhere...in the wind through the trees and grass...in the water lapping against the shore...in the raindrops falling against a window...in magic...especially in magic.  And I feel it in my heart...my soul.  But what I have gained pales to what has been lost.

But my loss is secondary...Lalaith's loss is far greater, though it involves the same person.  The pain and anquish in her eyes was almost too much to bear.  And the Council now has a strong ally, and our task has become much more difficult.

I do not understand fully what has happened to him...only what others have told me, and even that is incomplete.  What has reached my ears speaks of betrayal and trickery. I have to believe he would not choose this path on his own.

I am told he has something for me.  I only hope he is in the mood to talk when he delivers it...and that he does not deliver it with his blades.

Title: The Last in Line
Post by: Dorganath on May 22, 2005, 06:30:00 PM

The rumors are true.  I did not wish to belive them, but they can no longer be ignored.  He was deceived, and now his path is set against those he once aided.

He appeared to me, as he often did, stepping out of shadow.  His eyes and face betrayed a conflict...an inner battle that he was rapidly losing.  I was to be the last he would visit.

While his restraint lasted, we spoke of many things.  We spoke of the deception that set his path against ours....and of the one who deceived. *ink blot*

*the writing continues down a bit on the page due to a scorched section*

He confirmed another rumor...that the last link in the chain, the one in the prophecy, has been forged, and it is being carried by....my sister. We spoke of the Purge, of the coming Ritual and the Council.  We spoke of many things, and for a short time...the one I knew was there...struggling, but there. *ink blot*

His final act was to bestow gifts upon me.  More gifts, from the one who has already given me so much.  Mostly books...and the gems of his House...and perhaps something more...

Our business concluded and he slipped back into the shadows once more...the sound of his farewell lingered in the still night air.  The one who I called Friend...the one who I called Brother...is gone.

Title: Defeating Desolation
Post by: Dorganath on May 22, 2005, 06:32:00 PM

The gathering is at hand.  With the star gems successfully gathered by Kobal and his expedition, set our sights on the next ingredient.  It was the most mysterious of all...water from the Blessed Font of Voltrex.

Months ago, our initial inquiries about the Font showed it to be a myth....merely symbolic of the soul of the Elven people.  But now that the Great Library is restored, we learned more....much more.

At the Library, I was given access to the writings of Arenski Preillarn himself, compiled over the countless centuries he cared for the Lost Library...and something not generally shared with the public. *a note in the margin reads: Be sure to thank Triba and Eldárwen*

The text spoke of the Font and the truth behind it.  I learned that our answers lie with the Five Towers on Voltrex.  With little delay, Kobal, Katrien and I set off for Voltrex, using passes obtained months ago by Kobal through some deal unknown to me.  They were only good for a short stay on the Isle, so we needed to act quickly.

To say I was both awed and disappointed was an understatement.  The city of Saida was astonishing.  The forest of the Isle defy description in their beauty and strength.  And yet, I found many of the elves we met to be uncourteous and arrogant.  And to think it is these people we must plea for help!

Our task was to convince the Five Towers to accept our request to make the Font available to us. No small task to begin with, as we first needed to petition them to even hear our case.

We drew easy support from the Towers of Earth and Nature...thanks to he who was Veldrin.  Water consented on the word of the other two. Air and Fire, grudgingly consented.  Though I care little for why...only that we were granted an audience to make our case.

Like the rest of Voltrex that we saw, the Tower of Nature was an unbelievable place, both inside and out.  We met with the Speaker of Nature, and the other four towers spoke and listened through magical means that crossed the distances between the towers.

We spoke to them of what we knew and why we needed access to the Font.  We tried to make them believe what they thought to be myth. We tried to make them understand that our failure spells doom for all, even on their precious island.

We put forth what we knew, and yet they demanded proof. So we put forth proof...and in that effort, Kat and I were nearly struck down by our own song.

Katrien called upon the Gems of Sound, to bring forth the guardian in hopes that it would speak before the Towers.  In my desperation, I called upon the Gems of Shadow.  Before I took them from their pouch, I felt a distant call from them.  I removed them from their pouch and closed my hand around them.  

The change was instant.  The color drained from my hand, turning white, then bluish.  The effect spread rapidly and I collapsed.

What a fool I was, to think I could make any use of such artifacts.  And yet, the guardian came forth, but he did not stay, for I was not of Shadow.  But it did not matter...for Katrien was successful.  The guardian spoke, and confirmed our tale.

In the end, our efforts were not in vain, because the Towers voted to accept our request...though on four conditions.  Two we accepted without hesitation.  One we found preferable to the alternative.  But the last...the last may turn out to be a price greater than we expected.

Nevertheless, we have what we need.  The ends often justify the means...but will I still think that when the last condition must be satisfied?

One thing still puzzles me.  When I collapsed, the Gems of Shadow gripped in my cold hand, I saw a pair of familiar red eyes....HIS eyes.  A weak voice spoke in my mind....HIS voice.  I do not know how, but when I called upon the Shadows, HE answered.

Title: Betrayers
Post by: Dorganath on May 31, 2005, 03:55:00 PM

Another task for Ozlo. Another chance to visit Voltrex.  Another chance to stand before the Speaker of the Tower of Nature.  Though this time I did not speak as before....which was a relief.  Instead, I stood in the back and translated what was said in elvish to those in our party who did not understand.  The words of elves have always sounded in my ears, and I have been able to understand them, though I couldn't read a word of it if I tried...and all attempts to speak it on my own have been largely disastrous.  I have Lalaith's promise to teach me, but with events being what they have been...
 
Anyway, I whispered the translations to the others, so that they may understand what was happening.  It was difficult to both listen and speak at the same time.  I hope I got everything....and got it right.
 
We...delivered a dream to the Speaker.  I have really no idea why it was important, but it seemed to have something to do with the task set before us by the Speaker.  We needed to right an old wrong.  Ages ago, a young wild elf betrayed his own people and dropped the defenses of their city.  For his betrayal, he was cursed with undeath and held dominion over the ruins of Ovdear.  When at last we gained access to the ruins, we were beset by hoards of undead, the likes of which I have never seen...both in strength and number. It was as if all of the fallen dead from that battle long ago had risen up to oppose us...and have us join their ranks.
 
It was a long battle just to reach the lowest levels of the ruins...and then, we faced the Betrayer himself.  He uttered the words of a prophecy, before assaulting our group with the full force of his fury.  He put up quite a fight, but in the end we prevailed.  
 
And with this Betrayer down, my thoughts turn again to another...one whose betrayal is far more recent...whose deception still lingers in the air....and whose task for the Council still lies before him.  Against my better judgment, I sought aid from...an associate of his...a priestess who shares the mark that many of us now possess.  I had hoped she would see the wisdom of keeping this betrayer from his task or at least delay him a bit.  I had hoped I could appeal to her sense of duty to her dark lord, and to serving only one master instead of two.  I had hoped that she would see that this betrayer's success would end in her own failure to her god.
 
Bah!  What did I really expect?  The darkness in her soul blinds her to the realities the Drow bring. But as is typical with those who make dark deals with dark gods and Councils of unimaginable evil, their thoughts are only of themselves.  They see nothing but their own plans and what is right in front of their faces.
 
Fools!  Every one of them. *ink blot*

Title: Return and flight
Post by: Dorganath on June 23, 2005, 06:27:00 PM

They have always graced my dreams.  Fantastic creatures. Unimaginably old, intelligent, wise, powerful, fearsome.  On great leathery wings they soared the skies of my unconscious mind.  The earth trembled beneath me as they walked.  The very air trembles from their voices.

Yet my waking mind has only seen a dragon a single time....that is until another trip to Ozlo.  Four gems, obtained from Voltrex, were delivered to Ozlo.  I do not know what transpired in his chambers, but Plenarius and Quintayne were given an amulet, which they carried between them.

What happened next was nothing short of wonderous.

We ended up in a void of the deepest blackness I've seen, broken only by two stone platforms and a path between them. On one of the platforms was a doorway or portal of some kind.  Plen and Quint used the amulet, somehow, to activate the portal and again, we were somewhere else.

This new place was...nearly beyond description.  The place was permeated by a serene beauty, a calm like no other I had experienced.  The song of the place spoke the same.  Wherever this place was, I am quite certain we were no longer on Layonara.

As fantastic as the sights were, another more fantastic one awaited...a silver dragon.  I stared in awe like some kind of fool...it was all I could do. It guarded the gate to a great cavern.  It referred to us as "keepers" and we had some...task to do to prove ourselves...or something...I admit, I was only half-listening.

Inside the cavern was nothing short of amazing.  Metallic dragons of every type filled the cavern...bronze, copper, silver and gold.  Old ones, young ones...even eggs.  This is where they have been since they left!  It must be!  

The dragons all slept.  Our attempts to wake them, which were perhaps foolish, did not succeed.  

The Weave was gone from this place.  That much I knew with every fiber in my being.  Perhaps that is what kept them safe from their enemies all this time.  Perhaps this is why they sleep.  And yet, the fire in my blood, the one I have felt since I could remember, was burning hotter than ever.  Still, my magic would not come.  The Weave was gone from this place, but I did not feel empty. What could this mean?

The amulet that Plen and Quint held seemed to awaken the eggs...to stir them from their slumber.  It was guessed that these eggs were the goal of our task.  We moved them outside and brought them before the silver one. I could swear it smiled...can dragons smile?

Once again in awe, I stared at this creature as it spoke to us...something about these young ones aiding us...I think.  And then blackness...and we were gone.

My vision cleared, and we stood before an enormous tree in some forest I have not yet seen. Blackness again, and we stood in some fearful dungeon.  The evil and power in this place was terrifying.  I wanted to leave as quickly as possible.  Blackness yet again...and we stood in the dreadful port of Arabel, where this all started.

Was it all a dream?  I thought so.  But the clouds in Arabel parted just long enough to see them....dragon hatchlings, taking to the sky...their calls ushering in a new era.  The gloom of Arabel soon returned, and I knew it was no dream.

*ink blot*

Lalaith was along on this journey.  Indeed she was far more involved than I was.  It was the first time I had seen her in weeks...since she ran out of a gathering to discuss what we knew about the drow and their plans. To this day, I do not know what I said or did to make her leave, but she has kept herself hidden from me.  I could tell she was upset, and let her come to me first...but she did not....

She used to trust me.  I suppose I cannot blame her...still, I wish she'd have more faith in those who care for her...in her family.  But, I guess she will come when she is ready.

I'll give her time...it is all I can do.  Her gifts with Shadow are strong, and she will not be seen if she does not wish it.

Title: Images and the Lost
Post by: Dorganath on August 08, 2005, 10:11:00 PM

Some months ago, Kobal told me a story of the soul of a girl, and elf, offered up to the Council.  This girl was murdered many years ago, her death came at the hands of a certain Drow assassin. Only recently was her soul offered up to the Council, and apparently at  the will of the child herself.  Quite unusual.  According to Kobal, the Council seemed elated at the gift, and yet when it was given, the Council’s shadow presence seemed to be dispelled…quite hastily and apparently against their will.
  Kat and I found each other in Krandor one night.  We started discussing her songs and how they can have effects…almost like magic.  I let her practice on me a bit in her attempts to form some sort of protective magics with her song.  The results were…not ideal, but certainly showed signs that she could accomplish such goals with practice and focus, We also talked about the incident with the girl.  It seems the mother of the child and her family lived in Krandor as well.  We decided to search the graveyard for the grave of this child.
  We eventually located a grave that could very well have been that of the child, though the stone was written in elvish, and still such writing evades my grasp.  There was something unusual about it, however….namely that the grave felt….empty.
  As we observed, a shimmering ball of light appeared over the grave. It made sounds like chimes in the night air and…in our heads.  It seemed like…like a language of some sort, though one we could not quite comprehend, at least not in specific terms.  It seemed like a gateway of some sort or a memory…or perhaps both.
  We played to it, notes of friendship and inquiry.  It responded with images of a river, its waters flowing, but polluted and tainted near the source. Long did the images flow from the sphere’s music...though we could only speculate at their meaning, and the images were anything but pleasant and reassuring. The music eventually ended, but the chimes in our minds remained.  
  On speculation, I lifted my instrument once more and repeated the sounds of the chimes.  What opened before me surprised me with its abruptness and tangibility.  I was in a house, the home of what seemed to be this elf mother, her stomach swollen in pregnancy, and her husband.  Kat must have done the same thing, because she appeared with me in short order.  I could see and hear the sights and sounds of this house.  The details of the scene are less important than the overall picture; this was the mother and father of the elf girl who was murdered…whose soul would eventually be offered to the Council…and they fought over how to protect their unborn child.
  The scene advanced forward in time.  This time, instead of witnessing a fight between husband and wife, we bore witness to the brutal murder of this child at the hands of that Drow assassin.

To say it was unpleasant is beyond understatement. Yet, we know now that if we can, we should find this woman and speak to her…if she still lives.

Title: Misguided
Post by: Dorganath on August 08, 2005, 10:14:00 PM

Sometimes I wonder how we’re supposed to join together in a common cause against Blood when all we can seem to do is form factions that keep us apart…that keep us fighting amongst ourselves.  I don’t know what to think of some of these factions, especially the one that seems to be actively seeking out magic they don’t like…and attempting to destroy it.  Destroy magic…it makes no sense.  They might as well unravel the Weave one strand at a time.  And to think I called some of those people my friends.
  And then…my association with members of that group has brought me under suspicion from other friends…friends who I’d rather not be suspicious of me at all.
  Bah…what does it matter… this group hides itself in secrecy, working toward ends that it has no chance of ever attaining.  Even if such a goal were possible, it would never be permitted.  I think they chose the wrong target…that they focus on the means rather than those who use that means for ill purposes. 
  Perhaps someone will help them to see the truth, but that someone will not be me.  I will not get involved in this…not directly…not yet.  I have too many alliances, too many plans that need the assistance of others. 
  Bridges will be burned by mistrust, but I will not be carrying that torch.

Title: Reunion
Post by: Dorganath on August 08, 2005, 10:16:00 PM

Today was a good day.  No, it was a great day.   An old friend, Duradin Fireaxe, has returned…his obligation to whatever dwarven military brigade now complete.  The years away in battle have tempered his demeanor, but not his resolve.  Though it seems we do not have the time we once had to travel together, still, it is very good to know he is back with us, among those called by the Dragon.

Title: Ripples
Post by: Dorganath on August 08, 2005, 10:18:00 PM

Small changes, small actions can have significant results.  Such are the words of philosophers and sages, prophets and seers. So are we all told to believe, that like a pebble thrown into a pond, the ripples spread across the surface, so that the effects of that pebble are felt everywhere.
  But what then of major events? What then of our labors that span the course of years? Should not their ripples be greater?  The events of the last few years have seen the returning of the Great Library, the returning of metallic dragons and a few other events of major significance, and yet…what effect have they had?  Where are the ripples?  A curious area near a place called Bone Hill *written in the margin: “truth in naming”*, sometimes referred to as a place of prophecy, now shows a few lights where there were none before…a few chess pieces move around the board, each side hoping for an advantage.  What does it all mean?  And who…or what…is making these changes?
  And then there’s the bridges…Deep in the Serpent Isles, near the home of the Firstborn and the Tol who gave them life, another bridge now stands. We labor to defeat Blood, to gather every resource and advantage we can.  We labor for months…even years…toward an end of significance, and what do we see for our efforts?  Some glowing statues and some wooden bridges on a remote island.
  I suppose there’s some meaning there...And I suppose we’re not supposed to know what that meaning is just yet.  That would be too easy.
  Still, while viewing the bridges, I gazed across the chasm toward the former home of the Tol.  Shrouded in mist its secrets remain closely guarded.  I do not know if it was in my mind or not, but I heard something there as well…a calling of sorts…a song of subtlety and power alike.  Was this the song of the Cradle?  Or perhaps something else….
  My sister was there…Lalaith.  I did not avoid her, but did not press the issue of contact.  We spoke only briefly…on matters of little or no personal meaning.  Once back in Port Hampshire, though, she approached me to speak more directly.  Owen and Iradril were there…very unusual Drow, they are.  Genuinely polite, helpful, respectful, concerned for others…Most of all, they have been friends to Lalaith, at a time when she avoided my friendship.  It seems I have Owen to thank for this talk as well, for without him….
  We spoke.  Lalaith and I.  I explained about the journal from Veldrin, why I kept it from her, why I did not tell her. I think she understands. I wish I could just hand it to her, for I know more than almost anyone else how badly she wished to read it and learn the mind of her husband.  Yet that is the one thing I could not do..for several reasons.  Perhaps one day…when this is over.  Until then, she seems to accept my pledge to share what I learn within its covers.  And as she has once before, she will become my teacher again, this time to learn the language of my ancestry…or at least part of it…The language of elves, a language which has rung in my ears for many years, though I cannot seem to form the words or read the written script. Long ago she made the offer.  It is time to accept. I have put it off for too long. *in the margin is drawn an image of an engraved sun*
  I have not yet opened the journal of Veldrin.  I have thought about it several times, but each time, I stayed my hand and replaced the journal in my pack.  Perhaps the time was not right…perhaps soon.

Title: A Favor and Business
Post by: Dorganath on August 08, 2005, 10:22:00 PM

An alliance of users of arcane magics…what an odd idea.  A place of learning, creating, studying…a place to grow in one’s use of the arcane.  But what use is that to one like me?  When I first heard the idea, I thought it comical…a pointless waste of time and efforts…an exclusive club for wizards and their dusty books and scholarly pursuits.  But then Master Elinmire, my friend, asked me something I could not simply dismiss.  He asked me to be a part of this Alliance, not as a simple member but to be there at the inception…to sit on an initial Council.  Immediately, I was intrigued. For him, I would accept.
  And now it seems his duties and obligations take him far away, and I have not seen him since, yet my word to him remains.  And now the Alliance is forming. Tathnolu and Lia make up the Grand Council along with Elinmire.  I sit on the Arcane Council with Brisbane and.. *several names are written and scratched out here*.
 
  This feels odd…I don’t normally do well within such ordered environments.  Titles give me hives, and yet I have one now.  I have even volunteered to teach…Me!  In a position of authority!  The thought is astounding to me.  But my word was given, and my word will be kept.  I’ll see where this goes and take things as they come.
 
  Recently, I’ve been sent to negotiate trade with another Guild…an arrangement of raw materials and finished goods.  I suppose they went well enough. Time will tell.  These kinds of things still make me…uncomfortable.
 

Title: Return
Post by: Dorganath on August 08, 2005, 10:22:00 PM

Shadison….this name above all others so far still causes my blood to boil.  For that this god represents, for the events that brought it back to our skies, for the deception and the unfortunate part I played in all of that….*ink blot*
  I learned of an expedition to travel to Shadison’s temple ruins, as a few of us did several years ago, to learn what we could from it…and perhaps learn some way to combat this god and wipe it once more from our skies. I was eager to join that expedition, which was led by that unusual elf cleric known as Reventage. I signed up immediately.
 
  The road to the temple was difficult…and the temple itself was even worse.  We fought through many subterranean levels of snakes, medusas and the devout of Shadison. Fierce was their opposition to our intrusion...too fierce.  We started taking heavy losses, and the strain to the healers in the group was starting to take its toll.  We decided to turn back and return another day in greater force.  It’s unfortunate, because I feel we were nearing the bottom of these ruins, and nearing the clues we would need.  Alas, it was not to be this time.

Title: Trust
Post by: Dorganath on August 08, 2005, 10:24:00 PM

Old friends are a curious lot.  One can go for weeks, months, even years between seeing such, and yet the bonds formed long ago are still as strong as they were.  Over the last many weeks, an old friend I once knew as Serenity, but now as Eldárwen, has made her presence felt more strongly in my life once more.  Perhaps it is a coincidence of circumstance, but it seems like there is more.  And of course, she is a very high-ranking Lucindite priestess, and such clergy always has my attention and respect.
  She has spoken to me of strange stories, tasks, plans, schemes of others and the need for vigilance and action.  On a recent night, she bore both good news and ill news.  The latter has made me question my actions of late…to question certain associations.  Great Mother what have I gotten myself into now?  As if I don’t have enough to worry about. Still, she brought some good news, some strange news, and a story I’m still not sure I fully comprehend.
 
  Word must be getting out about me and the lengths I will go for my friends.  This was no exception, though I do not feel my willingness and word of bond is being abused. Besides a request of vigilance in a matter involving *name written and inked out completely*, there are two personal favors she has asked of me.  Two challenges for me to address.  One I can draw upon my experiences, as it involves another user of magic like me…one strong in her gifts already, though lacking in experience and knowledge.  The other favor…I’m not sure what I can do…it is a subject quite foreign to me. But, I suppose I won’t know until I try.
 
  And of course…everything is a secret.

Title: RE: The Journals of Connor Garvill
Post by: Dorganath on August 08, 2005, 10:25:00 PM

I really need to be more cautious when agreeing to help people.  Truly, I do.  Some nights ago, I was visited by hundreds of little…I’m not sure whats. *a note in the margin written later says: insane pixies* They swirled around my room and eventually swarmed on me, slamming into me with a magical discharge of electricity.  As they did, I heard a voice..the voice of Eldárwen’s mother…saying “this should help”.  By Lucinda…I would hate to see what she’d do to hurt.
  I’ve been spending a lot of time on Dregar of late, taking the time to gather supplies and explore while attending to Eldárwen’s requests.  I see her infrequently, so I’ve started leaving progress notes at her home, and she in turn has left notes for me.  It’s a slow system but it seems to work. One note in particular was especially intriguing, for it seemed to be written not of ink but magic.  A most unusual letter this was.  *in the margin is a sketch of a ring engraved with elvish runes and a unicorn*
    I met up with Eldárwen by chance in Saudiria again as I made my way toward Hurm.  I had information for her on a couple of matters, and though I had written most of them down for her already, the face-to-face conversation was more valuable.  While we spoke by the ocean, her other “favor” showed up.  We all spoke about some things that drifted to topics that probably should not be discussed in the open.  Before we could move on, however, we caught sight of a winged, evil-looking female creature walked by and into the desert. Eldárwen realized she had somewhere else to be, but left us with some parting gifts, protection and enhancement spells of every stripe that she could muster.
    We set off to track this creature, my eyes seemed to be especially keen with the aid of Eldárwen’s magic. *written in the margin: some of these I must figure out myself* The shifting sands of the desert made things difficult, but we followed the trail south to an oasis where many giants live.  At that point, the trail vanished, as if the creature we trailed simply flew off.  I double-checked the tracks to be sure, and as I did, a cloaked figure walked by us and south toward the Black Hills. We tried to pursue, but the torrential rain in the hills obscured any trail we might follow.  I did not recognize the figure though he seemed somewhat familiar. I now believe this figure may have been Drezneb, that is if I can trust in the accuracy of Ozy’s sketches.
  We crossed paths with Seteece in the hills, and after some discussion we all headed for Pranzis, where I made a report to the King on what I had seen…which was admittedly not much, but perhaps his advisors can make some sense of it.

Title: Unexpected Return
Post by: Dorganath on August 08, 2005, 10:28:00 PM

Once again, I find myself so consumed with my travels, my work and my research that I seem to miss major events and the return of old friends.  Tonight, I ran into Mara and Sand near the High Forest on my way to gather some aloe.  Mara asked me the strangest question…she asked if I had seen Quin yet.
  Quin….Quin Cromwell.  A man dead now for several years, his heart ripped out by a demon, or so goes the tale.  I could not believe it when I heard, and even a proper funeral was never had, but still, I knew in my heart he was gone.
    And now, Mara tells me he’s back.  I was not amused, but she claimed she could prove it.  So I followed her to Leilon to a place called the Leilon Arms. My old friend Derrick stood outside letting people in…I could swear at that point this was some kind of dream.  Quin alive, Derrick playing doorman…
    We entered a large common room, and there he was, amongst the crowd.  Even more so, he was part owner of this venture it seems.  And still I did not believe, and I do not think I would have, had Kat not been there and told me it was him.  Had she not been there, I might have been inclined to cut him open to uncover the trickery at work.
    But he stood there, and we spoke briefly of his return.  As strongly as I knew he was gone, I knew too that this was truly Quin, my old friend.
    But I do not know if I can trust this.  Something doesn’t seem right.  The dead do not simply return after years of death.  

Title: An Offer, a Threat and a Race
Post by: Dorganath on August 11, 2005, 04:23:00 PM

Kat and I found each other in Krandor again, sitting by the water near the graveyard.  Our conversation turned to the elf mother and the soul of her child.  We stayed a while, hoping to see if she’d come by and visit the grave of her daughter.  Instead, we received a visit from someone else.
  Out of the shadows stepped a Drow assassin…though not just any assassin.  This was Vas'menier Lairilweki, the mother of Veldrin and Lar.  She taunted us with her purpose: to erase the past as she should have done long ago.  She meant to finally murder the elf mother and be finished with her line once and for all…her usefulness now gone due to the child that Katrien now carries, in all likelihood.  And of course she gloated over the fact that she knew where the elf mother had gone and we did not.  It seems she left town a month or two ago…vanished, right under our noses.
  And of course there was the usual volley of insults and boastfulness typical of such Drow.  Predictable.  I do not know if I was simply persuasive or if she had another motive for this, but I got her to reveal the destination of the elf mother and her husband…Lannisport.  With that, the assassin stepped back into the shadows and left, claiming that once she arrived in Lannisport, they’d both perish.
  The word of a Drow such as she cannot always be trusted, so we took a few minutes to inquire around Krandor.  Luck was with us, because we found the wagonmaster who moved their belongings, and he confirmed the destination.  He also told us that another woman asked about this mother and her whereabouts.  By the description and what other clues the wagonmaster offered, we recognized this woman as Lithany.  What purpose does she serve, I wonder.
  But now, we were behind…by how much we could not know.  With all haste, we made for Port Hampshire, where I had hoped to book passage directly to Lannisport.  An unusual request to be sure, but time was critical. The result was something beyond my greatest expectations.  A salty, one-legged sea captain named “Fat Jack” brought us with great haste to Lannisport on a remarkable ship called the Unicorn.  She was fast…faster than anything I’ve seen before.  And the cost of this passage…nothing.  One of his men, though, pointed out the ring I wore, the ring from Eldárwen.  I am now even more curious about this thing.  What other secrets does it hold?
  After some inquiries, we found the elf mother and her husband.  She held an infant in her arms, a baby girl named Ariàne, which apparently means “gift”.  As we started to talk to her, she realized why we had come.  We warned her of the coming danger, that the assassin knew where she was, and that she was not safe.  Our conversation turned to other warnings she had received.  As she told the tale, much from our experiences and research suddently became clear.  Questions were answered, though they left new questions in their wake. As her story drew to a close, a commotion by the door to their new home rose.  We looked over to see Vas’menier striking down the elf woman’s husband.  Quickly, I wrapped the magic of invisibility around the woman and she ran.  Before we could think any further, Lithany appeared in the home in a most spectacular manner.  And she did battle with the Drow assassin, and likely would have defeated the Drow assassin had she not run off when her wounds got too severe.
  With the battle over, Lithany warned us that we needed to get the woman out of here…something we already planned to do.  And then she turned and left as she came. I do not know whether to count this Lithany as an ally, a rival or an enemy, but at least this time, she helped our purpose.
  When things had quieted down, the elf woman came up to us, the magics keeping her unseen now expiring.  We bade that she take only what she can carry, and to leave immediately.  We suggested she make for Voltrex if she can, and once there to seek the Tower of Nature. It’s my hope she can find some safety there, and a haven in which to raise her daughter. I once more wrapped the cloak of invisibility around her and told her to flee.  I pray Lucinda keeps her and her infant safe long enough to escape her would-be assassin.
  *a line is drawn across the page.  The following was written at a later time.  The handwriting reflects slower, more pensive writing*
  She…came to see us.  She wanted to see these surfacers with whom her sons had been so taken.  I do not fully understand the ways of the Drow, or the twisted mentality that drives them to act as they do…but some things she said caught me off-guard.
  Despite the wickedness and pain of the purge, somehow Veldrin still maintains a tie to me, even in the harsh Underdark.  He has spoken to her about me…I do not know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.  It makes me think that Veldrin, the Veldrin we knew, is still there somewhere.  But perhaps that is foolish, and this link is merely a side effect of the Gift from Veldrin. *written in the margin: She knew about that, too*
  Stranger still, she made me an offer…an offer to join with them and aid their cause…to aid the cause of the Council. My first reaction was one of humor and disbelief.  How amusing an idea, how ludicrous the prospect.  But she continued, and my heart wondered.  They can teach me, she said…teach me to make the fullest use of my gifts…sorcery and Sound.  My reward would be life, dominion, and admittance into her House.
  Can I trust this Drow? What good is the word of a Drow assassin…the matron of her House.  Why wouldn’t this all be a ruse to remove me from contention? But why not simply kill me?
  She answered that question for me. She makes such an offer for Veldrin and Veldrin alone, as binding me to the Council would further cement his own devotion as well. Though I cannot help but suspect there is more.  I cannot accept her words simply at face value.
  This offer should not intrigue me, but it does. What she told me of Veldrin also intrigues me.  I cannot help but wonder… *ink blot*
  The elf mother’s tale spoke of the doom that awaited her, as a descendent of the Gifted.  It spoke of the Three and their descent into darkness.  Perhaps it is the fate of all who bear the Gifts to end in darkness

Title: The Dark
Post by: Dorganath on August 16, 2005, 10:27:00 AM

*More fuzzy blank bits!*

Title: The Studies of a Sorcerer
Post by: Dorganath on August 30, 2005, 09:51:00 AM

I never thought I'd spend so much time in libraries as I do...wandering dusty stacks of bookshelves, hunched over musty old books, reading until my eyes hurt like some kind of....wizard.  Yet once again, necessity dictates my actions.
  However, upon reflection, it seems perhaps a good thing.  Too long have I spent taking things as they come, letting knowledge come to me rather than seeking it directly. And lately, an unlikely motivation has brought me to research a subject that perhaps I should never have negleglected: magic. 
  It never ceases to amaze me what can be found in the Great Library.  Seeking the name of a rare plant and a means of its preservation, I have come across some very old writings regarding the making of a crucible, one that can sustain this plant indefinitely. I carefully read about this crucible while Kat amused herself with some Xeenite literature.
  The process is complex, magic infusing every step, and each step is an opportunity for failure. While I could read the process, even understand its purpose, I recognized that the actual fabrication of this crucible would be far beyond any of my abilities.  I copied down the process as precisely as I could, even double-checking it before we left.  We took the plans then to the only place I could think of with the resources to construct it:  The Tower of High Arcana in Spellgard.
  I seem to have gained the support of Tári Sáralondë, the Broken Rune, one of the eight Grandmasters of the Tower, though I do not quite understand why she should show me so much deference.  She will petition the others on my behalf.  However, the final incantation is something that likely I must perform on my own, for it will need to be performed again once the plant is harvested.  And so, the tower has lent me an insane about of volumes regarding binding magics, energy balance and such. These concepts were not entirely foreign to me, though I've never before seen such ideas described in such detail.  It is, truly, quite fascinating.  I feel I'm getting a better understanding of the Weave's power as a result.
  The Broken Rune kept mentioning my Affirmation and needing to do something about it.  I just smiled and nodded.  I have since learned it is a rite of acceptance of sorts into the Church of Lucinda.  I should speak to Eldárwen about this.  Strange that she has never mentioned it to me before.

Title: A Letter
Post by: Dorganath on August 30, 2005, 09:54:00 AM

* the following entries appear on pages of their own, as if meant to be removed from the journal one day without disturbing the other information *
  Dear A *a space is left* and S *another space*
  I have held off writing of the two of you, knowing what dangers you face and not wanting to take the risk that any harm would come to you because of something I'd say, do or write.  You are well-cared for and many people guard your safety, and now you are safely away again, away from the reach of dangers. I'm writing now so that I do not forget, but something tells me I never will.  I hope I will recognize you when you return this time, though I know somehow that I will.
  I have to admit I was very apprehensive when your mother asked me to help you.  What did I know about children, afterall?  What would I be able to do for you that other, more capable people could not?  Still, I came and visited, and somehow endured, and dodged, the effects of your early-emerging talents that you could neither understand nor control. I tried to teach with out preaching...correct without scolding.  Did I do well? Only you can say for sure.  Even at your young ages, barely able to speak, your personalities were readily apparent, as were your gifts.  I've always found it somewhat amusing though, that the one who is least like your mother in talents is much more similar in disposition.  This should be interesting.
  I'll forever remember the wonder in your eyes, the pure joy in your laughter...and the mischievious grins right before something unexpectedly caught fire. It's fortunate that Ember is quick, but he also has a long memory.  I'm sure he'll forgive you...in time.
  The last time you went away, you came back so much bigger I could hardly believe it.  I thought it was me who had been away too long, that my other obligations had kept me away longer than I should have stayed away.  But it is the place of your father that changed you so quickly.  Perhaps it did not seem quick to you, however.
  Until your return, the image I will hold of you is that of our trip to the island. The place was so peaceful and isolated, and so far away from the troubles of the mainland.  You and your new, adopted siblings running and playing on the beaches and in the water...sharks and all.  Your mother and "Gammy Mewi," as you used to call her, slipped in and out of speaking elvish with great ease, and you follow along eagerly...far more easily than I, but I am getting better, I think.  The ability and resilience of youth amazes me each day, and I am surprised at the pride I feel in watching you grow.
  I eagerly await your return, and I cannot wait to see who you have become. You will no doubt be fully grown by that time.  If ever you read this, remember always that there will never be a need too great that you cannot call upon me. I consider you both, now and forever, my family.
  All my love, Uncle Connor

Title: Snakeskinned
Post by: Dorganath on September 07, 2005, 12:06:00 PM

13 Seplar 1388
  *this entry is written hurriedly, as if excited or urgent*
  This is a happy day.  For the first time since the vile deception that returned Shadison to our skies, he has been dealt a blow.  Perhaps not a major one, but important all the same. Shadison was being fed power, column of energy rising from somewhere northeast of Arabel to the five vile stars that make up the serpent in the heavens.
  My suspicions of Shadison's temple were confirmed when we arrived at the Fort of Last Hope.  Our last visit there was less than successful, but this time our ranks were larger, and we were more organized. Down to the depths of the temple we went, the dangers we faced no less than our last, less-than-successful trip. 
  Seilan was there. I am still unsure whether that is a comfort or a concern.  She was studying a serpent statue and the rune it encircled. She spoke to us about the dangers below, of why she could not progress deeper and why she had to return to the spot we found her to rest and recover.  Some ill-advised actions on our part destroyed the statue and rune stone.  To say Seilan was annoyed is an understatement.
  We eventually reached the depths of that temple, and the familiar chamber where last time we encountered a champion of sorts guarding the box we sought...a box we thougth contained something else. *ink blot*
  Only this time, instead of a champion, there was a great demon of some kind. It stood upon an altar bathed in magic and blackness.  Nearby was another of those serpent statues, coiled around a rune stone.  The battle with the demon was fierce, but the strength of our group made it shorter than expected.
  I turned my attention to the altar.  A curious blend of magics were at work...the magic of Alteration, the magic of Divination and the magic of....Shadows....*ink blot* *a note in the right margin is written: too many coincidences...learn more*
  I tried to express what I sensed, but the others were too busy with the snake statue and Lia's impetuous and headstrong attempts to retrieve the rune stone before anyone had even discussed it. Kobal was about ready to rip her arms out. Everyone was advising caution.  Instead, she just jumped into the center of that statue and landed atop the rune. *written in the margin and underlined twice* Why?
  Her ambition and drive are admirable, but I'm wondering if they will become a greater liability to her than an asset.  Time will tell.  This time, however, it got her killed...and by Brisbane.  I suppose I should not be surprised, but powerful and swift magic slew Lia where she stood...at the center of the coils of the serpent statue.  If only Lia had waited...because we ended up taking the rune stone with us, but after some discussion, not just jumping in.
  It was Brisbane herself who brought Lia back to the living. I have not decided yet if her actions were warranted...if Lia deserved death for her actions, no matter how temporary. Could another means have been as effective?  The ultimate end was the same; were Bris' actions even necessary in hindsight?  These are questions I need to ponder more deeply. The Toranites were quick to judge Bris.  Maybe they're right, but why does it always seem like they look only at the surface and at the now, and never take the time to look deeper and into the future. 
  Ultimately, it was Reventage who removed the rune stone and carried it up. When she removed the stone, all in the chamber returned to normal.  The odd magic and darkness (shadow?) surrounding the altar was gone.  I had, and still have, strong reservations about carrying another unknown artifact from that temple.  I almost think Kobal's suggestion was the right one... just destroy it all and be done. Bring down the mountain and fill that accursed place once and for all.
  But no matter.  The deed is done. Along the way, we met Seilan again and delivered the rune to her.  It's in the hands of the Sisters now, and I suppose that is as safe of a place as any.

Title: A test of strength
Post by: Dorganath on September 10, 2005, 03:38:00 PM

*An entire page of the journal is written quite differently from all the rest.  The writing is scattered haphazardly across most of the page.  Fragmented sentences written in a hand that seems fatigued seem to speak of a deed and a great task. The names of several people are arranged about the page in a way that seems at first random, but upon further inspection seems to imply some sort of proximity and purpose.  Written most prominently is the word "Violet", underlined twice and written larger than any other name. Incomplete chains of arcane runes are scribed in a circular manner.  In the general center of these runes sits a very rough sketch of a flower with eight tear-drop petals.  At several points on the page are ink blots and trailing scribbles, as if the writer paused or lost control of the quill, possibly indicating extreme fatigue.*
  *At the bottom of the page sits two paragraphs, apparently written at a later time. It appears as all other entries in this journal, deliberately written, hurried but legible.*
  I feel as if I have slept for days, and yet the fatigue I feel follows my every move, as a shadow on a summer day. The months of research and preparation have all come to fruition.  In retrospect, perhaps this was not a task I should have taken upon myself, but left to those more skilled in the Arcane.  Nevertheless, the deed is done and with a degree of success. How much success remains to be seen.  Lucinda willing, it will be enough. And all the preparation seems to have paid off in ways I could never have imagined.  My understanding of the Weave and Lucinda's gift have grown more in these past few months than any other time in my life.  I have learned to work the Weave in ways that had previously remained a mystery to me.  Perhaps there is something to the ways  of Wizards afterall.
  Forever shall I remain grateful to the rest of our group...Kobal especially, and the Dreamer, but also the others no less for their great strength, will, courage and sacrifice. I could never have succeeded without their aid, nor the Dreamer's strength, filling in the gaps of my own abilities. If ever the call of her need is heard by my ears, I will answer without hesitation.

Title: Aftermath
Post by: Dorganath on October 21, 2005, 07:04:00 AM

How long has it been now? Weeks? Months? More? I wish I could recall.  Some days for me recently have been like crystal in their clarity.  Others seem to pass like a blur. It seems my recovery from the trip to the islands has not been as "quick" as I thought.  Each day, I tend my charges, in a habit that has become almost like breathing.  So much so that I often panic that I had forgotten a task, only to find it done as always.
  I've spent more time with my sword of late....its blade, singing with a magical coldness, seeming to relish the taste of warm ogre-flesh and even the lifeless husks of the undead.  I guess I need the distraction. 
  Magic has been renewed in me, it seems.  For my efforts, for my study, Lucinda has blessed me once more with new magic.  After returning, after resting, I discovered I was able to do things not previously known to me.  My studies of Tranmutation (and likely observing the magic often in my travels) have brought me to an understanding of giving one's skin a stone-like durability. My studies of Evocation have revealed to me how to produce fire like a hail of arrows, streaming unerringly toward my targets (and finally a use for all that Alchemist's fire I've made over the years). My studies of Illusion must have given me insight, as I can now see past the cloak of the Weave that hides people from sight.....(ink blot)
  Illusion...what is it really?  Is it just an image?  Is it more?  Veldrin could conjure images with his Gift of Shadow...mere wisps they were, without real substance, though vivid and often life-like.  Shadow...A few simple motions, and I can have a shadow stand before me...  It is illusion...I know this. There can be no denial.  And yet, this shadow can strike at enemies and injure them.  It is weak...there is not much in its strength or durability.  Yet should there be any?  Should it no more than a substanceless image?  It is all very curious, and it brings my thoughts around to my lost brother...and...her...again.
  An odd offer it was at the time, and yet I cannot hide my intrigue.  I wonder if she still lives...if the wounds from that Lithany didn't finally take their toll.  Part of me hopes they have not, if for no other reason except my need for answers.  Foolishness perhaps...and yet, things happen for a reason...right?
  Perhaps there is something to this perpetual weariness...or perhaps I'm just tired.  Yes, tired and ready for things to be done and over.  Tired of existing in the same chapter of life, one that has gone on for what seems an eternity.  I am ready to move onto the next chapter and put this one behind...and yet, there are pages left unread...pages yet to be written.
  I miss the twins. They've been gone so long now, and so abruptly.  I've stopped by as often as I can, but still they are away...and no one seems to know when they can return...or if they can return.  At least they're safe.

Title: Descent
Post by: Dorganath on October 23, 2005, 02:56:00 PM

How deep are we now?  Can anyone truly tell? Kobal has an idea, but...I suppose it doesn't matter.
  Earthquakes...frequent ones.  Find out what's causing them...that was the task set before us.  Fun.
  From that pit that Shadison calls a temple, we fell through the floor due to a tremor.  We landed in the Underdark...from there, we journeyed deeper, and deeper. We fell again, and ended up in a large cavern. From there, we descended again.  It seems in this case, we cannot go back the way we came.
  Forward we went.  Past creatures known and unknown, through landscapes not seen by most in...who knows how long.
  And now, I sit here, staring at the corpses of Rev and Remiel, struck down by some altar of some kind without even so much as a flare of light...One moment they stood, next, they lay lifeless on the ground.
  Nearby, a couple monuments of some kind....they simply radiate divination, though the markings are unlike any I've ever seen.  *a detailed sketch of the monuments appears here*
  I am certain we are being watched, and I'm certain these monuments are instrumental in that, but I haven't a scrap of proof.
  I will write more when I have a chance.  For now, we must turn our attentions to the problem of Rev and Remiel...and of getting out of this hole.
  * a very rough sketch of a flaming altar surrounded by four pillars appears on the page, as if done from a very incomplete memory *

Title: Descent, Part 2
Post by: Dorganath on October 24, 2005, 10:24:00 AM

How long has it been now? Days? Weeks? All concept of time is gone here.  We rest when we need to, eat and drink when our bodies tell us, but day and night...vanished.  And so much has happened. I suppose I'll start where I left off.
  Plen has breathed life back into Remiel and Rev. I am relieved...because part of me had doubts that they could be revived....given the odd nature of their deaths...and this place.  They spoke of what they did...what they saw.  Rev was attempting to examine an altar, extending her thoughts through the Weave to learn its nature.  She told the tale of seeing a red eye, and a city of some kind.  Further examination of the altar was deemed unwise, and so we turned our attention to a great door that blocked our path.
  Large, incredibly strong, the door was trapped and locked from the outside...as though to keep something in...or to keep something from getting in.  Who can say really?  Triba's nimble fingers made short work of the traps and locks...pretty much everywhere we went.  Onward we went, each of us grabbed by the neck by some unseen force, and then we found ourselves kneeling in front of a raised platform with a glowing obelisk in its center.  It took me a while, but I finally figured the thing out as Triba disabled yet another trap for us.  As the group was walking off, I get a sense of its magic...teleportation. Simply fascinating.
  Though...no one else seemed to think so...not really.  And for some reason, that annoyed me.  Here we are, stuck gods only know how deep below ground and they just ignore something huge like that.  But...not wanting to get separated, I followed along as the group pressed forward.  Shortly, we stopped again, examining some gadgets or whatever.  There were a couple of busted bridges with ropes on could use to swing across. Of course...on the other side....more traps. Handy.  And beyond those, some kind of small room
  I stood and watched them fumble with traps curiosity and annoyance got the better of me. I walked back to the platform...no one seemed to notice either.  I walked up to the obelisk and examined it once more. Teleportation magic...I was certain of it. And I knew, somehow, it was part of something bigger.  I reached out my hand to see if I could get a better sense...and then I wasn't standing by the obelisk any longer.  For a brief instant, I wondered how long it would be until anyone would notice I was gone, but the thought was pushed from my mind by a single word...spoken, if such a term applies, by the obelisk...or perhaps by something tied to it.
  At first, I thought I was imagining it, but no...I definitely heard it spoken in my mind. I am certain of it now.
  It all happened in the space between moments...I think.  I found myself standing in this little room beyond the traps...and apparently standing on a trap myself...surrounded by Kobal, Triba and Rev. They wondered how I got there...I told them.  Rev seemed annoyed (oh well)...Kobal concerned (probably because I was standing on a trap)...Triba thought it was neat. And then they ran off before I could tell them the part about the word.  We rejoined the rest and Rev went on about not touching strange teleporting obelisks...who does she think she is, my mother?  By Lucinda, even my own mother was never that naggy.
  Onward and onward....through dangers, mazes and so forth.  We found a book of someone who had been here before.  It spoke of portals, some leading back to the beginning of this place.  He seemed frustrated.  Who knows how long he spent here, or if he's even still here at all...well, alive anyway. 
  Most curiously, we entered a forest...though still deep underground, a forest all the same.  The Weave told me what should be obvious to everyone.  This environment, while thriving, was artificial, transformed by powerful transmutive magics by some unknown power, and further maintained by some means. I can hardly begin to fathom what great power could achieve such a feat, and if it weren't for the giant horned lizards, it wouldn't be such a bad place to live.
  The journal we found turned out to be quite useful.  A maze of caverns with several portals within.  Most, if not all, marked in some way, though the markers were grim, but perhaps blood was the only thing he had left to use. Rather than a portal, we found a secret doorway, and that turned out to be the right choice...or it seems....so far.
  Two portals...two statues, or whatever they were (in the margin is written "Seemed more real than that"), one behind each portal.  One statue, a lovely young girl, though with a trace of...something...despair maybe?  The other, a shadow creature of some kind.  Two portals, two choices. Somehow the word spoken to me by the obelisk came back to my mind, and confirmed to me what several others had already deduced.  Into the portal by the shadow-thing.
  At least we're not back at the beginning.
  We seem to be getting somewhere...things seem to be changing. Our current camp sits in an odd chamber with several levers, a gong and a magically locked gate.  More puzzles.
  A few, like Rev, think this place, this whole thing, is a trap.  Others, I among them, think it's a test.  I get the feeling that we'll know soon enough.

Title: Descent, Part 3
Post by: Dorganath on November 04, 2005, 09:59:00 AM

*The writing is somewhat rushed and haphazard, as if due to strain, fatigue or some other factor*
  The weight of the cavern ceiling is starting to be felt by many, I think...that and not having seen the sun in...I don't know.
  More puzzles.  More frayed nerves, We solved some puzzle with levers and such, though I'm not really sure how.  It seems people were having trouble knowing what to do and when.  The plan was fine, the leadership was fine, but the communication was poor, the desire to be out of this hole starting to impair judgement and reason. Talan and Triba are at odds.  Rev is...Rev. Plen kept his composure somehow amidst all of thi....
  *the writing ends abruptly, continuing below at a later time.  This time the writing is larger than normal, reflecting perhaps anger.  There's a slight unusual darkening of the parchment in some places*
  That LIAR!!! How could she do this?  How could she not tell me?  Have I completely lost her trust?  How long has it been now?  How long has this deception gone on? How long before we left?
  WHERE IS LISSE'???? *underlined several times*
  She will answer for this...when survival is not so much an issue....and when my head has calmed to the point where I do not have an urge to unleash the Weave's fury upon her. *an ink blot and a fairly large darkened area appear below*

Title: Return
Post by: Dorganath on November 04, 2005, 10:01:00 AM

*Connor approaches the door to his home in Krandor under the cover of night.  He takes a moment to turn and look out over the waters, then up into the familiar night sky.  A small smile lights his otherwise weary face, obscured in darkness and shrouded by his hood.  As he passes his staff to his left hand to unlock the door, its electric glow briefly reveals exhaustion, fatigue and contemplation.*
  *He enters and locks the door behind him.  He absently drops his equipment and packs as he walks through his bedroom to the back room he uses as a study. Taking out his journal, he drops himself into his desk chair, takes out a quill and begins to write*
  Three months.  That is what the calendars say.  Three months we were gone...trapped in that...place.  To call it a hole doesn't do it justice.  It's more...much more.  I was right...the caverns with their mysterious puzzles, deceptive portals and cunning traps were all just a big test of some sort...A test we passed!
  I'm tempted to write down all we discovered after this test, but as I contemplated the meaning of events, I find the gaps in what I know seem to outnumber the facts that I do know. I think I shall have some conversations before even attempting to record the end of our journey.
  And Katrien...still, nothing from her.  Not a word...hardly even a look. Does she honestly think I don't know?  Does she think me that stupid now?  It was quite obvious, even if we were disoriented. What makes her think she can mess with our fates like this?  What gives her... *ink blot*
  I hope Lar didn't put her up to this...or that "host" of hers...
  *Connor pauses in thought a moment, then closes his journal and takes out a fresh piece of parchment.  He starts to write several times, pausing each time before his quill even touched the parchment.  Finally, he puts the quill back in its well, having not written a single word.  From a desk drawer, he pulls a small iron dagger and sets it on top of the parchment, stands and prepares for bed.*

Title: Catching Up
Post by: Dorganath on November 11, 2005, 09:16:00 AM

I was talking to my old friend Mara recently in Hlint...which was otherwise strangely quiet.  It seems Sand has gone missing.  None have seen him, and she has not heard from him for quite some time. I hope he has not fallen from the graces of Lucinda, or worse, I hope he has not forsaken Her Grace.
  While we spoke, along came Kat...the first time I'd seen her since Arabel. She tried to approach me invisibly, but by now I am quite used to the way she ripples the Weave. Mara left shortly after Kat arrived...perhaps she sensed the tension.
  And oh what a cheap trick.  She came bearing Lisse' wrapped in her arms.  How was I supposed to stay angry with her as she cradled my niece lovingly in her arms?  Such tactics are simply not fair at all.  She explained herself, logically, calmly...She was trying to protect me...to keep me from worrying about Lisse' while we were gone.  She didn't stop to consider that in doing so, I worried more after discovering her ruse, and then on top of that...anger.
  *Connor sits back from writing a moment, pauses to gather his thoughts and then continues*
  She is perfect.  Whatever lingering anger I felt for Kat melted away as I gazed fully for the first time upon Lisse'. It is ironc that I have looked with such eagerness upon this day, and at the same time, I have felt great dread for the same day.   I can only guess what will happen now, but I know that if the armies of the Abyss came for her, I would fight with ever means in my power until Lucinca's gentle hands usher me to the Afterlife...or the Soul Mother feasts upon my rotting remains.
  Jacee, Jharl and that young couple in Hlint took good care of her.  Kat chose well, it seems, and I am glad.  I am also glad that she has chosen to move out of that den of the drow she called home for so long. I never trusted them...ever.  Their "hospitality" would have run out as soon as it served their purposes.  I gave Kat a spare room in my house.  It's seen no use at all since Ollom and Fian left for...wherever it is they went.   She wasted little time gettng settled, and probably enlisted that poor Jharl to carry all the heavy things.  Ah well, at least it feels more like a home now.  I'm told that soon, Lisse' will have no more need of a wet nurse, and then this will be her home as well, for as long as she needs it to be.
  -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  I talked to Triba today.  She helped to answer many of the questions I had since returning from that long jouney.  Still, as I sit down to write this, I remember at least one...and probably more...question I forgot to ask.  Oh well, next time.
  I asked about Eldárwen and the twins.  I'm told they are well, and that the twins will soon be back.  I am pleased to hear this.  I have missed them greatly.

Title: Adjustment
Post by: Dorganath on November 21, 2005, 05:56:00 AM

Child of sound...INDEED! *underlined several times*
  Let it not be said that Lisse' has not found her voice.  By the gods, I'd swear those who seek her for their ill plans could simply follow the sound, even from their deep holes in the earth.  I got the easy part of being an uncle with the twins, I think. Of course, then, I could just go home.  This time, I am home.  Yet, for all the interrupted sleep and seemingly random fits of crying, I would not change a thing.
  Some of the gossip mavens in Krandor have been talking.  Spreading rumors...spreading half-truths.  I don't know if Kat hears them, but I do.  They assume a lot about that which they don't understand.  I suppose it's natural, but then they don't seem to want to know the truth.  Scandal is much more interesting.

Title: Visions and Action
Post by: Dorganath on November 21, 2005, 06:30:00 AM

Some have spoken of a recent incident outside Shifter's tower.  I somehow avoided this event, which seems to have pulled people from all over Mistone.  I don't recall where I was or what I was doing at the time, but I suppose that doesn't matter.
  Recently, a group gathered outside that same tower to discuss those events and the events down in that...dungeon...those three months we spent below the dark places of this world...what, and who, we found. Also discussed were the recent attacks by Blood's forces upon Velensk and the Dragon Isles.  The latter definitely concerns me...and for more reasons that most people, I think. Talan, always eager to show off something or other, kept speaking the Shifter's name...something we learned down below.  He was rewarded by a jolt of lightning.  Silly elf! Doesn't he know that names have power? 
  Shifter took an interest in our conversation, it seems.  Maybe it was Talan's big mouth...or perhaps he's was watching.  How exciting....only one other time had I seen Shifter, and that was a rather chance, and unnerving, encounter outside of Krandor.  This time was less-so...perhaps because I know more now.  He spoke with us in the tongue of the shadow folk we found deep below, and told us of some tasks ahead, and what we must do to gain his help.  During this conversation, Rev...another silly elf...spoke his name as well.  She doesn't learn to quickly, I think.  She received the same measure of correction as Talan....a bolt of lightning to the head.  Though it was then that we learned that his name, along with those of his "brothers" is cursed, and when spoken, it can make those who know of the curse aware of things perhaps that we would rather they not know.
  In an effort that seemed to drain him greatly,  Shifter showed us a vision of an attack on Roldem by Blood's forces. Despite its considerable military strength, especially its navy, Roldem fell.  The victory by Blood's forces was quite decisive.  So we formed some plans and decided that notifying the Queen was the best place to start.  Plenarius flew down to Velensk to alert them of the situation, and Talan and Lalaith kept to themselves, speaking in whispers, and then took off on their own....to where I do not know.  She knows something that she's guarding closely...too closely.  I'm not sure if she thinks she's helping anyone or not, but I think the time has come for her to start sharing.
  Our group, after alerting the Queen, began making plans to head to Roldem, if nothing else but to warn them of their impending danger.  Some of us, a small minority, remembered the trapped soul we found in Roldem, and after our conversation with Shifter, it became apparent that besides the strategic military significance of Roldem, Blood also sought this soul, either to use it for himself, prevent us from gaining it or simply to destroy it.  Rev kept pushing for our mission to be one of warning for the inhabitants of Roldem, to help them prepare for the coming onslaught.
  Rev....She always seems to be listening to something, but rarely seems to actually be doing anything of the sort. 
  As we talked, we learned that Blood's attack had already started.  The vision we were shown told us that the victory would be complete.  And yet still, she missed the bigger picture.  The trapped soul was the true target, and should be for us as well. She debated that we had to get some necklace for Shifter first...concerned we were doing things out of order.  What a fool!  I suppose her primary goals were noble, but other than a warning, there was nothing we could do for the people of Roldem.  Without the soul, though, our fight might become much more difficult, if not impossible. 
  But that red-haired elf is something else...as much as she hated the idea, she was the first in line to speak to the soul once we reached it.  *ink blot*
  We succeeded, though, and that's really all that matters.  Some artifact we found in that old dwarven temple below the Cloven Mountains turned out to be a vessel for transporting a soul, and so we convinced the soul to come with us.  And not a moment too soon, either.  Bloods troops were already swarming.  We got out as quickly as we could.  A success to be sure, but not to the people of Roldem. I can only hope and pray that our warnings reached people in time.

Title: Duty
Post by: Dorganath on November 21, 2005, 06:53:00 AM

Kobal has been on my mind of late.  The tone of his recent letter to me gave me cause for concern, as did the unusual implications of him asking for assistance.  Fates conspired against me, and I arrived too late to board the ship from Saudiria. *ink blot*
  I only hope he does not think I have abandoned him in his time of need.
  I do not like leaving friends hanging like this, especially those to whom I owe so much.  Perhaps it is time to take mastery over fate, to use every means at my disposal to catch up to him in this time of need.  The dock hands think they may know where the ship was headed, and I got good descriptions of the ship's markings. Perhaps a visit to Port Hampshire is in order...

Title: Favors, Sacrifice, Vision, Curse, Burden
Post by: Dorganath on December 05, 2005, 04:41:00 PM

I ran into Fat Jack in Lorindar. Good! It made my trip shorter and would get me to Kobal faster. He was having his crew release the moorings before I even finished telling him where we were going...though when I did, he just about had them put it all back. He started going on about cursed waters and how he wouldn't risk the 'corn on such a fools errand. After some debate, he agreed to get me close, and he would tow a skiff along to go the rest of the way. I told him I'd be sure to let Kailia know what a great service he had done.
  As with most trips on the 'corn, we made great time, the ship cutting through water almost as if it wasn't there at all. When we got close, the 'corn dropped sail and the skiff was brought along side. Using this smaller (expendable) craft and its crew of one (besides myself) set out to search these waters. We had searched for a long time and saw nothing for a long time. Hope was fading, until finally we caught sight of some smoke and debris. Granted, not the signs for which I had hoped, but it was better than just empty seas.
  It was them...their ship damaged beyond hope, they were able to abandon ship and hold onto a larger bit of floating debris, though the waters were apparently infested with sharks. The skiff pulled along side them and I helped pull everyone from the water...tired, wet, cold, battle-worn, but alive.
  We turned back to the 'corn for food, drink and rest...something sorely needed by all. They recounted what had happened to them since leaving. They were headed to an island blessed by the goddess Ilsare, though now cursed somehow...passage to the island prevented by a fleet of haunted ships, teeming with undead, and which add to their ranks with each kill...those who die on one of those ships become undead themselves, if not properly tended.
  It has been a long several days, and everyone is in need of rest...including me. The 'corn's hospitality has been above reproach, as always. Time now for rest...Tomorrow we prepare.
  -----------------------------------------------
  Jack won't take the 'corn anywhere near the island...I can't say I blame him. But Kobal would swim to that island if that's what it took, so we worked out a deal. We would take the skiff to the island. Jack's crew would train us to sail the skiff over the next two days, and he would wait with the 'corn here for a tenday...a fair deal, since the possibility exists of not returning.
  Overnight, an idea hit me...a way to get past the undead ships...safely...without combat. I don't even know if it's possible, but it should be... I'll spend the day trying to figure it out, but it should work...it's just an illusion afterall, and the undead seem to be fooled by it in most cases.
  -----------------------------------------------
  I stayed up far too late with my research, and today we depart. I'll rest on the skiff...it will be a few days before we reach the island's waters. I've prepared about all I can...there will be time for one test, I think, and time for me to rest and restore my strength before the true test.
  -----------------------------------------------
  Lucinda provides...it worked! Perhaps I was foolish for taking on such a major challenge to my abilities. Lucinda knows I'm not as strong in the Weave as I could be. My test run was disheartening...I got the mast to vanish, random objects on the deck vanished (including a few dwarves), but I wasn't close to getting the result I had hoped for. The Weave burned as I gathered its energies in such great quantities, and the attempt left me weakened. After some healing, rest and meditation, I figured out where I went wrong. As we neared the island, it was time for another attempt.
  I sat behind the mast, placing my hands upon it. Ahndar stood behind me, lending his strength in the Lady and the Weave to me as I worked. Never before had I felt such energy flow through me. It seared at my skin...at my mind...at my very life. The ship of the undead approached and the our group prepared for battle, but I knew none of that as I set my mind in concentration to the task. My mind's eye saw the shifting patterns in the Weave, threads I would need to control to make this work. And then I saw, through the haze of pain as the Weave's energies tore through me, I saw the pattern I needed and locked onto that...and our small ship vanished from sight. I did not actually see that it had happened, but I knew...the Weave told me. But my task was not done, I had to hold until I knew we were safely past...and so I held, and as I held I knew nothing but the singular pattern I held and the Weave's energies coursing through me like liquid fire. I began to feel myself slipping away...the energy from the Weave was too much for me...one by one the strands of life keeping me here were burned away. What little awareness I had told me there were few left, but I persisted until the last one burned away...
  I awoke, my soul answering Ahndar's call by the Grace of Lucinda. My head pounded in pain with each beat of my heart, my skin felt raw, screaming in discomfort with even the slightest touches...even my teeth hurt, and my eyes felt like I had sand in them. Through this haze though, I seem to remember at least one Voraxian priest giving me praises, and we weren't undead, so I knew then that it had worked. I guess it was worth the cost and worth the pain...I only hope that I don't have to do it again on the way out.
  -----------------------------------------------
  This island doesn't want us here...that's for sure, though I'll take its occasional protests over the fleet that encircles it. This place is supposed to be blessed by Ilsare, but apparently the curse that afflicts it didn't get the news. And, the island has guardians. Several celestials in Ilsare's service stood in front of a curtain of light, warning those who approached that only the Harper may pass. I guess this is was the only time I wished she was around, but there's no way to get her here except through that fleet again, and I don't think I can keep doing that.
  Kobal told us about the curse...something to do with a Ring of Thanes, which itself was cursed, and set to rest on some altar on this island where the Ring of Stars should be. I can only assume that alter lies beyond the guardians. And it was this Ring of Thanes that he sought.
  There was supposedly something buried here, something related to the curse...or something to help break it. Some looked for this...whatever...and I caught sight of a carved stone perched up on a ledge. I climbed up to investigate it, and while trying to decipher the engravings, I must have blacked out. I saw a vision...I was standing on a path, far ahead was an open temple and a figure clad in white. I held a golden harp that I strummed casually... I was the Harper. In my vision, I started down the path, growing ever closer to the temple. Then suddenly, I was back on the ledge and far away from the stone. Kobal pulled me away I think. I was annoyed...I think I mentioned that out loud, but who knows if the others heard me or not. I eventually went back and sat before the stone again. Once more I was given the vision, once more I walked down the path, and once more I was dragged away by a dwarf. This time I got really irritated with...whoever it was.
  I told the dwarf, in no uncertain terms, unless I was dying to leave me be. At least the third time he listened. It started again, same as before. As I drew nearer the temple, my steps became heavy, and apprehension stirred in my stomach. Above were the stars of Ilsare, and from that constellation, one single star fell into my hand, where it became a ring...the Ring of Stars. After what seemed an eternity, I reached the temple and approached the figure in White. The figure was quite oviously a woman dressed as a bride, her face turned away and veiled from sight.
  Before long, I stood before her. I lifted the veil, and the face that greeted me was....horrid. It was festering and dead, maggots and worms thrived within the rotting flesh. Her hand, a perfect living hand, reached out to the back of my head to bring me forward for the first kiss of marriage, though it did not force. Not knowing what else to do, I put the ring on to her other hand and went forward to accept the kiss.
  As I did, the face changed and took on a familiar form. Her skin became smooth, alive and dark, her dead eyes became alive and colored like rubies and her hair became smooth and pure white. This was the face of a friend, a student, another who shared tha same Weave gifts as I. But what was Ilsare trying to tell me? Why her? Why now?
  -----------------------------------------------
  The vision ended, and it seems the others made some progress finding a buried chest. within the chest was a ring, a ring which looked like the Ring of Stars, but which was clearly not. In fact, though, it was a clever construct that was designed to detect threads of divination and then appear to that divination as whatever the divination expected it to be. In theory, this could appear to be the Ring of Stars. The problem of course is to get past the guardians and to the altar to replace it. Kobal tried to put on the ring and pass the barrier, which he did with ease, but he returned shortly after, running, panting...the guardians on the other side apparently did not approve of him.
  Few options remained. It's uncertain whether or not I could have cloaked us again as before. The last time they tried going against that ship of undead, they nearly all joined their ranks, and now their ranks have swelled by the numbers of the crew of the ship that they were on when I found them. Going back did not seem a viable option. The curse had to end, and with the curse ended, the island could heal. So we chose forward.
  Those on the outside of the curtain were single-minded. Only the Harper may pass, though they would not prevent us. No discussion, no exceptions. They know of the curse, but they were bound to their duty.
  Through the curtain we passed, and we faced others bound to their duty, celestials of great strength and ability standing between us and the altar. The fight was hard, and a few of our own fell. Eventually, we killed the last, though there was no thrill in that victory, no sense of accomplishment, only a grim scene of unnecessary death.
  The altar stood before us. On the altar a stone hand. On the hand a ring...the Ring of Thanes. It seems odd, but the finger on which the ring rested seemed to be decaying. Above the altar, the stars of Ilsare twinkled and alternated between the pattern of a heart and the Archer, though one extra star circled with them. When this star was overhead, Kobal removed the Ring of Thanes from the stone hand. This seems to have had a positive effect, and so we were content to leave as quickly as possible. Our way out was blocked, but we say them before they saw us, thankfully.
  Back at the altar, Kobal again waited for the appropriate time and placed the "impostor" ring upon the stone finger. This did the trick, at least for now. It's not the true Ring of Stars, but it was enough for those that guard this place. We left unopposed and walked through the curtain.
  -----------------------------------------------
  Soon after, we left the island, our trip back to the 'corn was uneventful, the macabre fleet of undead now gone. Jack and his crew returned us to Harper's Ferry expertly and swiftly, and all of us took the opportunity to rest and reflect.
  My thoughts remained on the vision, and what we had done. The celestials were only fulfilling their duty, but the island is free of the curse now. It can begin to heal and the Harper can come and set things back to where they should be...maybe. The guardians didn't seem to have much faith in the current Harper...or the last several Harpers for that matter.
  Was there another choice? Yes. Would we have survived to try it? Maybe, maybe not. And if not, the island would still be cursed. So perhaps the ends justified the means... *ink blot*
  For my part in this, if I'm asked to go back and help heal the island, I will, though the true healing will be brought in the hands of the Harper.

Title: Anger and suspicion
Post by: Dorganath on December 07, 2005, 03:17:00 PM

*the writing is hurried and written in a way that suggests urgency or anger*
  Who the hell does she think she is?  Oh I'm well aware of her titles, and her status, but that gives her no right to deface soil that belongs to Lucinda...and without even asking the Tower or even considering the opinions of the group.  She comes late to the party and then thinks she's in charge.  Ha!  She's always been flighty in my memory, but this beats all!
  Once again, as in the legend of Angel's Tear, it was Lucindites against Ilsarians, though on a smaller scale.....I'm wondering who invited her along.  Bloody pretentious elf.  I pray my own elven heritage was not so...frustrating.  Though what I have seen of elves so far is not encouraging.  And that puppet of hers...Athus.  What a pretentious snob with that fan he's always got, and his meticulously tended clothing. Two peas in a pod they are.  And to think I once liked them.  What was I thinking?
  With some amusement, I've learned that the halfling Acacea is a better singer than the so-called Harper of Ilsare.  Or perhaps it was the song itself.  On the night the Angels Tear was to bloom...but didn't because of some ancient and linked interference...there were two songs in the air: a "red" one and a "blue" one. Acacea seems to have some sort of resonnance with the blue song. When she sings it, she draws the Weave to her in all its glory.  Visible to all, not only the Weave-gifted, her song brought the shimmering essence of Lucinda Herself to play around Acacea's small form.  I must say I find her performance quite calming and pleasant.  Rev and Athus tried to duplicate it with the red song, and failed...miserably.  Their perfomances, while otherwise perfect, lacked the bond that Acacea clearly had.  In fact, their meager attempts were met with a violent backlash by the blue song...a backlash which hit everyone in the immediate area. 
  Once I learned of Acacea's bond, and the lack of such a bond in Athus or Rev, I asked Rev to stop sining.  She responded by attempting to change the song, once again, to fill in the parts that she thought had to be missing.  I mean, afterall, how could she possibly fail right? Whatever...
  And even after I explained that the song was fine, it was the singer that was the problem, that he and Rev lacked that essential bond that Acacea has with the blue song, they did not listen.  Oh, they stopped, but they also assumed it was some sort of veiled insult.  Bloody fool that Athus! Fine, if he doesn't want to hear the truth, then I'll find someone who does.  Kat will listen.  There are others.
  Alantha's behavior has turned suddenly odd.  She seems to be staring at me with an almost unsettling frequency.  The's openly hostile to Kat, uttering curses in Drow that border on murderous, even intentionally and forcefully bumping into Kat as she walks by.  I do not know what is causing this sudden shift, but it's concerning...and I'm beginning to wonder if she can be trusted any longer.  But perhaps it's best to keep my suspicions to myself for now... *ink blot*

Title: Glow
Post by: Dorganath on December 07, 2005, 09:02:00 PM

* This entry is written with a flourish not previously seen anywhere in the journal.  It implies a sense of joy and enthusiasm, almost as if the need to express thoughts is overwhelming the ability to write them.*
  How is it I did not see this before.  How is it she could have gone unnoticed in my sight, yet straight in front of me at the same time.  Oh the time I have squandered when I could have been spending it with her.  No matter I suppose, I will just have to make up the time now.
  I must remember to thank Eldárwen for the introduction those many months ago...or has it been years now? No matter.
  We had to part ways for now...our paths diverging for a short time.  I pray she stays safe, that the Mother keeps her safe within the protective Weaves she will raise for herself.  My heart aches in her absence, and my mind thinks of little else.  I look eagerly forward to the time when we can walk the hills west of Blackford, with the light of a rising moon sparkling across the water and twinkling in her ruby eyes.... *small ink blot*

Title: Old friends
Post by: Dorganath on December 14, 2005, 07:28:00 PM

After ages, it seems, I have finally met up with Eldárwen in Pranzis after...I have forgotten how long.  She tells me the twins are on Mistone, which is happy news indeed.  Though there was little time to catch up it seems. Eldárwen brought concerning tidings...things I'd rather not think much about, much less write. Though I suppose such things cannot be ignored for long.

Title: Tower and Glass
Post by: Dorganath on December 14, 2005, 07:51:00 PM

Following the trail of clues from the devas and Legodia, eventually came upon the tower Legodia mentioned.  Our trail turned dark, and by that I do not mean a lack of light, but rather in terms of tiding and the feeling of the very air.  Corrupted creatures of all sorts stood before us, returning to their natural states in death, each branded by a distorted symbol of Lucinda.
  What foul use of the Weave was this?
  The tower most certainly belonged to a Lucindite....perhaps the very one in the legend of the Angel's Tear itself.  Warded much like the Tower in Spellgard, the tower stood amongst a grove of trees...an intricate scene depicted on its walls.  The scene was the key to unlocking the wards, which fell with half-hearted protest as we touched the correct symbol. 
  Our next challenge, the door itself.  Locked yes...trapped also with a magic of great power and lethality. Brac'ar, though a grumpy dwarf with no appreciation for good singing, expertly defused or redirected the complex magical trap on the door.  One last trap remained.  According to Rufus, the trap would have bathed the area in negative energy...and I found I could not find a reason to distrust that assessment.  This last trap was triggered by the door, but not from the outside.  It could only be disarmed from inside. Bil's imp tried to enter the tower through a window and came out in pieces...a most unpleasant sight....possibly more due to Bil's odd way of crying...if it can be called that. Rufus was more successful, though seeing him in pixie form was a bit unsettling.
  Once inside, more odd things awaited.  Two strange gardens filled with magic and flowers both mundane and magical themselves, several statues that seemed almost lifelike though missing some essential spark, a small room containing notes and shelves filled with small glass figurines. Some of these statues held a lump of clay...and seemed to possess some sort of life of their own.  One even jumped from the shelves and ran off down the hall. Acacea found a little unicorn figurine, and is keeping it as a pet.  It's kind of cute, and kind of...odd.
  We never found the little scared statue, but we did find a lot of golems...or they found us.  Either way, four of our group fell...Rev, Rolf, Jharl and Brac'.  The rest of us made it back outside to regroup and formulate a plan of rescue. Upon our return, the statues in the front hall began to seem familiar...the big one even starting to resemble Rev.  I knew we had to hurry.  My fears were confirmed when we went back to the find the bodies of the fallen missing.
  We found them, eventually...lying at the bottom of a dank pool, a scum-encrusted body of what was once water but now was fully unrecognizable. In the same room was some odd equipment, magical conduits and a glowing mirror. The bodies of our friends were being eaten away by what appeared to be some kind of worm, though I've never seen worms such as these. To our shock, a golem walked into the room carrying Savin and dumped his lifeless body into the pool as well.
  Athus figured out the mirror was some kind of control device.  The conduits were fascinating, and Alantha wondered if such things could be used to expand one's ability with the Weave.  I couldn't let her try that though...the results would be...ugly.  Athus figured out the controls, freed Rev from the hold of this pool, then restored her to life.  He then did the same for the rest, then he and Rev restored their lives.  When the last of our group was removed, the magical machinery shut down.  We exited the tower once again, under cloaks of invisibility, and now we sit outside in its shadow.
  It's been a long day...or days perhaps...I do not know.  I am tired, and tonight the base of this tree is my bed.
  *Connor closes the journal, tucks it away and rests his head back against the base of the tree and falls quickly to sleep*

Title: Awakening
Post by: Dorganath on December 14, 2005, 08:09:00 PM

* Connor awakens slowly in the early dawn light. Beside him rests a slender dark-skinned elf woman, her head lying gently in his lap*
  She's sleeping, or whatever it is that elves do. I resist the urge to wake her, for she needs rest, though I suppose just being this close is good enough.  For so long have I kept up the walls to my core, protected against the whims of the ignorant and intolerant...and the one who was so easily swayed by them. For so long, the walls kept me empty, and then I came here at the dragon's call and I felt the warm touch of the Weave and Lucinda, and so I had something to fill the void.  And yet the walls stayed.  For fourteen years now, they have stayed.
  But why now?  Why here? Why her? How strangely ironic...and yet welcome. It is beyond explanation and yet I feel no need to explain.  It just is, and is maybe this is something in my life that I don't need to try to explain.  I did it once before when I embraced the Weave, maybe can do it once more....for her.
  *written hurriedly* She stirs....

Title: Experiment
Post by: Dorganath on December 16, 2005, 06:20:00 AM

*This entry is a hurried mess of symbols written then crossed out or partially obscured by blots and smears of ink. THere are several attempts at writing down something, possibly something not meant to be read easily, however nothing makes even the slightest bit of sense and most of it is simply rendered illegible.  The only two words even remotely recognizable are "red" and "black" written in what appears to be a form of elvish.*
  *Finally, a large X is drawn over all of it, and the journal was closed while the ink on the page was still wet.*

Title: Confusion
Post by: Dorganath on December 22, 2005, 01:23:00 PM

Perhaps not our best work in the Tower of Strands. We weren't organized like we should have been. Rev and Rolf were off...who knows where.  Athus too...or was he just sleeping somewhere?   Rufus took a big nap, scarcely moving the whole time. That odd Rashar character finally caught up with us...Don't know why, but I really have a hard time trusting him. Can't blame him for being curious, but it was his pokings that infected Brac', Jharl and Savin with some strange spore or infection.  The infection turned Savin and Jharl into fiends...Brac' was able to resist somehow, though he wouldn't have lasted much longer.
  Luckily Plen found a horn in a chest...a horn that appears to have come from a unicorn, of all things. The horn, in Plen's hands, was able to cure them of their fiendish states before they did something bad.
  Most of the tower's golems are now...non-functional, except for those creepy ones in the entry way, and this one that looked like it was formed of solid mithril.  We left that one alone.  Too bad we didn't leave other things alone. 
  Some paintings, painted with some sort of magic paint, held something bound....though I'm still not sure what.  Four paitings, two each of what appeared to be a celestial deva and some sort of female demonic creature. Releasing the bindings made the tower shake violently and the paint melted from the canvas, but seemed to have no other effect, at the time anyway.
  There's what looks like a unicorn caged up in a small chamber.  I say looks because there's a stump where its horn should be, and the horn Plen found seems to fit. Plen and Brac' tried to restore the horn to the creature, but it didn't work...something was wrong.  It sought the essence trapped in Acacea's little glass unicorn, but the figurine started to crack.  Oh, and there was something found that mentioned a tear had to fall in the river before they'd be free.  I think maybe that means one of the flowers....
  We found the summoning chamber, I think.  Never quite got inside myself.  We were attacked as soon as the door opened by animated weapons and this horrible fallen deva. The weapons were nothing.  The deva was truly viscious in power and strength...we could scarcely harm the thing.  Only Plen seemed to make any sort of difference at all. Alantha fell distracting it long enough for Plen to do some real damage....*ink blot*
  It tore me apart inside to watch her fall like that...to see her nearly sliced assunder by that horrible creature. She fought bravely, and for that I was proud and thankful...but to watch her cut down as she was, unable to do anything for her...and then continue the struggle for my own life and those around me....
  When it was over, I wept...and I don't weep. I've buried these kinds feelings so long, they almost feel unnatural to me, and yet they have come back to me with a surprising rush that feels completely natural, if a bit disorienting.  I wept until Plen mended her broken form, healing the wounds and restoring life to her....tears falling upon her lifeless face...The vision I had on that strange island is beginning to make more sense...and yet...
  Eld is making things complicated...again... I generally trust her implicitly, but in her current state, I'm just not sure about everything she says right now. The things she's said about Alantha...and Eld's recent...overly affectionate demeanor.  I don't know...I don't know... I never should have agreed to... *large ink blot*
  I guess I should be flattered by her advances...to say I was not tempted would be a lie.  Though I feel like it would be a betrayal...but what if the rumors are true? Am I once again to be played for a fool?  And if so, by whom?
  This is too much.  I don't know...I just don't know...

Title: Clarification?
Post by: Dorganath on December 28, 2005, 07:28:00 AM

Things are becoming clearer, I think.? Some things are, at least. Plans are taking shape, the depths of involvement are becoming aparent.? Our time grows short, but there is only one place left to look, though it is a big place.? Knowledge is power. Lucinda provides.
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  At least one of the rumors is true. She freely admitted as much. I can't say it pleased me to hear...I had hoped the rumor would be false, a misinterpretation by Eld's currently altered perceptions. I listened with mixed feelings as she told me...happy she was honest with me, but not so happy about the news. There exists a clash of cultures and pasts, of traditions and expectations, of warm feelings and harsh realities.
  "What do you expect of me?" she asked.?
  I don't know.? What should I expect?? Should I expect anything? "Honesty" was my only answer.? Right now it's the only answer that makes sense... the only answer that I truly believed.
  "What does love mean to you?" she asked.
  Again, I could not answer.? I thought I knew long ago, but what I thought was love turned me away as easily as one would extinquish a candle.? Since that time, I have known only the love of my new family and the love of Lucinda and the Weave.? This...is different...like before, and that scares me. Questions she gave me, her ideas of what love might be.? Could we answer them all "yes"?? It seems we could not...not yet.? At least I am not alone in that.? For both of us, the past remains powerful.
  So many questions remain. How will I answer if...when she asks me again?

Title: Complications
Post by: Dorganath on December 30, 2005, 10:38:00 AM

Eld tracked me down in Krandor...a resourceful one, she is.? Although I suppose it's not that big of a mystery.? Triba showed up too...I doubt it was a coincidence. But no matter. I had to talk to Triba as well.
  It was one of those good news/bad news kind of nights.? Good news: Eld is free of that...thing, its time limits working as hoped.? Bad news: What we learned is simply chilling.? Good news: It seems we have some strong allies in all this.? Bad news: It seems that the cost of failure will be even greater than either of us realized.? Good news: Eld has retained all memories of her time with the mask, and has learned a few useful things in the process.? Bad (?) news: Some of the barriers broken down by that mask have stayed down... *ink blot*
  The influence of the mask brought things to the surface which had been there all along, it seems. I had hoped they were just the mask's enchantments...part of the process that kept its wearer...maleable.? But once again, it seems I have been completely blind to what is right in front of me.? This is becoming a habit...Only this is different...or is it? Gods! This is so unfamiliar to me.? I feel like I have to choose...and in choosing, I lose something either way...

Title: Duality
Post by: Dorganath on January 09, 2006, 07:32:00 AM

The Church is divided. Foul plots are at work that would tear the very foundation out from under Tower and Temple...perhaps even in a literal sense. The corruption reaches nearly to the top, a chilling prospect at the very least.  It has felt very strange going into some of the places Eld has taken me during this investigation.  I feel like I don't belong there...and I probably don't.  Eld assures me it is fine, though I wonder if she really belongs there either. Maybe, maybe not, but I suppose that doesn't matter now.  And together we've learned and accomplished things that I doubt would have been possible by either one of us alone....
  Alone.  For so long I was alone.  I had my friends, my family, my peers, but in matters more personal, I walked alone.  Looking back, it's not for lack of opportunity. Nevertheless, I now find myself divided in a way that has become something of a puzzle, and one with no clear solution.  The times I'm away from Alantha, I miss her greatly.  Our times together are treasures to be held safe. Whether gazing into her sparkling ruby eyes or watching her rest, or just being near her, I have no doubts about how I feel, or about how she feels. Though there is always that other...another I have learned to accept for now, because I too....*ink blot* 
  When we are together, I do not doubt her feelings for me, or mine for her, but how long can I continue to overlook the other who shares her heart? *ink blot*
  How long will she continue to afford me the same consideration?
  As happened with Eld and that mask, the walls inside that protect and separate have come down, and like Eld, I too am unwilling to build them anew. A part of me inside that was long dead now lives again, and hopefully will continue.
  The puzzle remains...what of my own divided heart?  What of the other...my other?  There's some things I need to know...and a couple of people I need to talk to...for answers...and advice.

Title: Averted
Post by: Dorganath on January 16, 2006, 04:39:17 PM

I am simply amazed at the strength and ability the Church can bring to bear on a problem, though that ability was nearly destroyed by widespread corruption that threatened to decay the Church from within. But that poison within the ranks is no more. The original 14 that Tempos bound to his will have met their doom while trying to fulfill it...or so they thought. *ink blot*
  The long list of Guardians bound to lesser masks have been freed...mostly. The song of doom that was to unleash death and chaos upon the Hosting instead brought nymphs and seduction upon the musician. I only wish I could have seen that myself.
  Things are back to normal, or as normal as they can be I suppose. The Weave, like life, is chaotic, and the Church reflects that...moreso than I had ever really considered. The wrongs have been righted, though not without cost.
  And what's amazing is that the general public..indeed, perhaps even members of the Church itself...never even knew how close to disaster we really were. Looking back at the events of the last few weeks, I am simply amazed at what what accomplished...and at what Eld and I were able to learn and do together.
  Eld and I....together. It wasn't long ago that I wouldn't have even considered it...always at arm's length. Lately however, arm's length has been much too far away. Yet I almost pushed her much farther than that. I don't think I'll ever forget the hurt in her eyes before she masterfully brought her expressions under control...hurt caused by a stupid question brought on by a seed of doubt planted in my head by someone who was only trying to protect me. My heart didn't doubt, but the mind doesn't always pay heed. Sometimes there's a reason, and I had to know.

Title: Doubt
Post by: Dorganath on January 16, 2006, 04:40:23 PM

Acacea is a strange one, and I mean that in a good way. She's generally happy and interesting...has a unique view on things, sometimes simplistic but sometimes that's needed. Last week at the Arms...late as usual...I can never seem to get there anymore when most people are there...Acacea was in one of her somber moods...which seem to come more frequently lately, and is becoming rather unsettling.
  She kept asking me questions...though she did so in a sort of indirect way to keep everyone else (all 3 of them) from really getting all that much from the conversation. She spoke of our common task regarding the Angel's Tear, and that song she and Alantha sang together. Then she spoke of wondering if the song didn't have something to do with...certain feelings...about certain people.
  To be honest I'd not considered that before. And when she first said it, I thought it was silly...but surprisingly, she almost made a lot of sense.
  And now I find myself returning to that thought more and more....and what it might mean if true.

Title: Hope and a listening ear
Post by: Dorganath on January 17, 2006, 10:50:26 AM

In the last several days I have seen Lalaith more than I have in the last few years. It was good to see my "big" sister again, though at first things didn't look so good for her.
  I found her sanding in Fort Hope...looking half dead in both body and spirit. We sat for a long time and talked, as we had long ago. She talked about things that were bothering her, things about Owen, Tha' and Iradril. She tried to act like there was nothing else, but I know her too well for that.
  Despite his current cruelty and darkness, he still weighs heavily upon her mind and heart. How many years has it been now? Six? Eight? And yet the anquish is seemingly undulled and so close to the surface. We never mentioned his name, but I knew who she meant...a brother to me, a husband to her...lost. There was reluctance to speak any further of him, but something told me we should.
  Perhaps it was a dirty trick, but I showed Lalaith an image of him, a memory given shape by weaves of illusion...a memory of who he was, what he has become....and a faint glimmer of hope. I expected her to run away at this, to slip into the shadows and hide as she has so often before. But she did not. Perhaps she knew it would no longer work with me...or perhaps what I showed her is exactly what she needed to see.
  I spoke to her of my beliefs about him...about the Grove and what happened there. We talked of what he gave me, and her belief that the gift I hold kept at least part of him safe and alive She eventually seemed to take some comfort in our conversation, in my belief in hope for him, and in my vow to resolve the situation one way or another.
  I think it helped...sometimes she's hard to read. When we were done, she slid easily into the shadows, looking and sounding much better than when I had found her.
  I saw her again at Moraken's Tower later in the evening, when she told me briefly of her ring and who may now possessit...and then we had another opportunity to speak while preparations were being made for an expedition.
  This time I was the topic of conversation, for she had seen my affection for Alantha and found this very interesting. I suppose rightly so...for so long she had only known me to be solitary. The conversation also turned to Triba and why she blew up at me out on the docks. And so the conversation turned to Eldárwen...again, greatly to the surprise of Lalaith.
  I spoke of my conflict...my fears...it was odd being on that side of the conversation, but it was nice for a change. A fresh perspective is always welcome.
  Parting her company, I ran into Owen. I told him where she was, though there's no guarantee she'd still be there when he came looking. I hope she was, because they really need to clear the air. I think Lalaith may have been in the right mood, but Owen has a tendancy to put his foot in his mouth.

Title: Minaret
Post by: Dorganath on January 19, 2006, 07:48:08 AM

*A big fuzzy blank bit*

Title: Decision and Anxiety
Post by: Dorganath on January 25, 2006, 12:05:27 PM

I made the decision in my heart before I even knew in my head. Part of me feels selfish for doing so, but I could not continue like that. For what she opened up in me, I'll always love Alantha...in some way. Love, it seems, is not always enough, and the decision she could not make, I made instead. My moment of clarity came when Eld decided to step back. I knew then that her own philosophy more closely matched my own, and that she was willing to do that...for me...spoke volumes. What followed surprised even me....the delcarations I made to her with such certainty, truth and emotion...and the sudden certainty of what had to be done next.
  --------------------------
  *the next part has a lot of places where the quill rested on the page a little too long*
  By the gods... I never expected that. Such pain...such... I knew it had to be done, but knowing doesn't make things any easier. Why should I expect that though...I have no right to... And there was no easy way...how could there be? But she still has Cray, and Cray was in her heart first. I guess that should comfort me...but it doesn't. Alantha was my friend for a long time, and now that may be lost... but there was no other way. Gods how I hate hearing that. There's always another way, isn't there? I suppose there was, but that way was not my way. I could not pretend it was any longer.
  --------------------------
  The Rites are tomorrow, and I'm nervous as all hells. I don't know why I should be, but I am. Perhaps it's because I have aspired to this for so long, and yet events conspired against me at every turn. Now it's upon me...finally. Praise Lucinda!
  Eld will have a busy night. Besides me, she's presenting what sounds like a dozen other people. And I guess she has to give a speech too...and I know how much she hatese speeches. Should be interesting. I hope I don't do like Allie did and spout off a recipe to the Warder, though just staying upright will be enough of a victory for me I think.
  Then again, maybe I'm making too much out of this. I'll be fine...that's what Eld keeps telling me. It should be quite the event, though I'll be relieved when the ceremony is over.
  I understand there's quite the celebration afterward. That, at least, I can look forward to. I could use some merriment.

Title: Affirmed
Post by: Dorganath on February 08, 2006, 06:06:54 AM

I was beginning to think the day would never come, but it did...finally. What an event! So many new clerics and mages came to be Affirmed, priests and priestesses promoted, and to be in the presence of the Queen, the Warder and the Threadmasters and Threadmistresses and many other distinguished guestsI was a bit overwhelmed.
  Even with Eld's comforting and reassuring hand on my shoulder as she presented me to the Warder, I felt like I was going to collapse. The Warder asked her question and my mind was screaming not to follow Allie's example. Somehow I answered, and she liked the answer. And then she smiled, called me "Brother" and that was that.
  I stepped back and watched the rest of the line of candidates, probably staring at Eld a bit too much in the process. There were several familiar faces...Daeron, Acacea, Jharl, Ozy...Alantha.
  After a seemingly endless string of candidates, there were around of promotions and awards. My jaw hit the floor when my name was called. Standing up with Eld behind me was bad enough. Standing before the Warder, the Queen and half the Church watching all by myself was nearly fatal. For what I had done for the Church during its recent crisis, I was given the keys to the Tower of High Arcana. I'm pretty sure I didn't say anything stupid at that moment, but I can't be sure. I suppose not because the Warder hugged me.
  Eld got promoted to Threadmistress of the Cerlyn Wethrina. I was so proud of her. She's earned it to be sure. Though it's unfortunate the circumstances that led to that promotion, and the price that had to be paid. The Warder coaxed her into giving a speech, and despite her obvious discomfort at the idea, she was the very vision of beauty...to my eyes anyway.
  After everything was over, the celebration began. And oh what a celebration it was. I'm told I had a very good time. I don't remember a moment of it...except for the beginning, and that was pretty much chaos between the fireworks and the mass of people and all the food and drink...and whenever my hand was empty someone put fresh drink in it...
  Triba told me about it in the morning...when I stumbled out of whatever hole I was in...Something about coconuts and saying things to Meli and some kind of cotton ward... I just hope I didn't embarrass Eld too much. Though she was called to the Tower for some goo-cleanup reason, so maybe not.

Title: Truth, Duty, Destruction, Tension, Victory, Heart and Hope
Post by: Dorganath on February 08, 2006, 10:50:35 AM

Where to begin... So many events of note, and I have been lax in keeping this journal up to date. I suppose order doesn't matter so much, as all have happened quite recently.
  ---
  Kat's been upset...alright, angry... at Eld. I can't say I blame her; sending Celgar to give advice on her choice of suitors really wasn't the best decision, but it's over, and I doubt at this point that their relationship could get much worse. On top of that, I had to tell Kat that the scroll Lar gave her all those years ago, the night that Veldrin visited me, was all a lie, and a lie of such great and deceptive magnitude. I should have known. What a fool I was to trust him! I never told Kat that it was Eld's scrying that revealed the scroll's nature. I'm really not sure if it would have helped ...or mattered... or not. But now Kat has made two more requests of me, neither of them small. And I have the original scroll.
  ---
  And there was to be little rest for me that night, as Kobal's request of aid was brought forth once more, and we descended into the old halls of the dwarven clan, along with a vial that is supposed to be able to destroy a blood pool. Corrupted by curse and overrun with undead, the place was not even a shadow of its former self. I decided to lead Gam, the old and blind loremaster, through the halls. As we walked I questioned him about that lost runic alphabet that was used for that axe he showed me...and that I saw when I aided Kobal in his dreaming when we were captured those weeks ago. Oh, I guess I never wrote about that. Well, Gam, or Ga'Thagor, was bound to the Thane, who was bound to the ring and both were cursed and bound to the blood pool that corrupted the halls. The rest is all that dwarven clan stuff, which I admit I surely don't understand.
  Anyway, the talk with Gam was very interesting and enlightening, and even proved helpful several times along the way. It's a pity that I didn't have more time with him...I know I only came away with a fraction of the knowledge of those runes, now possibly lost to time and curse. I've started to scribe what I have learned and will submit it to the Tower for archival and further study. Heat, Metal, Heart, Magic.
  The spirits released by Kobal came willingly to his call. The curse is ended...the blood pool destroyed...somehow we got out alive. I never knew dwarves could run that fast, but I suppose an exploding blood pool is a terrific motivator.
  ---
  Alantha answered Kobal's request for aid this time. It was a bit uncomfortable. I didn't want to start up a conversation that would delay or distract from the tasks at hand. Deep in the halls he said a few words to me....small talk really, pertaining to the challenge we faced at the time. I suppose it's a start, and better than silence. Maybe it's time to clear the air, now that emotions have died down a bit.
  ---
  Xandrial is out of the picture now. Returned from whence he came, perhaps now stronger than before, but no longer marshalling troops for Blood. And we got that necklace that he's had for all these years, the Necklace of Souls...now in the hands of Shifter, as some had promised. Though I wish they were not all so hasty to hand it to him. What Lalaith told me about Shifter's "brothers" gave me some cause for concern...at least I think it should have warranted caution, but such restraint was not to be found, nor it seems was the willingness to listen to the messenger. Perhaps we worried too much up front, and there are other possibilities not previously considered.
  ---
  Eld has been so busy lately. The recent disturbances in the Church have required some restructuring and clearing of the ranks. These activities have kept her away with Church business. I do hope things begin to calm soon, perhaps long enough for a vacation somewhere. Maybe I'll speak to the Warder. I'm sure Eld has earned a few days off. Though in a strange way it makes the time we have together that much better. Though I suppose we're never really apart. I can close my eyes and see her face, hear her voice and feel her touch. A memory is not as good as the real thing, but it's enough for the times we must be apart.
  ---
  I've been spending a lot of time with Triba lately, especially the times when Eld is consumed by her new duties. It seems the two of us share something of a common past. We're both orphans raised by humans with almost no clues to our true heritage. Our discussions have once again renewed my curiosity toward my own origins. I think I shall make more of an effort toward finding my past. The first step, though, probably entails me getting serious about finishing my studies of elvish. I've had several friends offer to teach me, but always they have other obligations, and I don't need to bother them with my own needs. I have a few references, and I've become fairly good at reading it...in most cases...but my diction and comprehension is terrible. I need to speak and hear the language.
  Triba mentioned that there are tutors at Blackford that could help, and I think I'll investigate this soon. And who knows, maybe I'll just happen to run into a certain priestess I like to call Amael.

Title: RE: The Journals of Connor Garvill
Post by: Dorganath on February 18, 2006, 07:23:47 PM

Connor sits at his desk in his study, his head laying on folded arms atop a chaotic jumple of notes and parchments.  A writing quill remains loosely grasped in his right hand, which twitches slighly from what was likely hours of writing. He breathes slowly as his eyes flit back and forth and the corners of his mouth twich upward in some apparently good dream.
  To the side sit three identical tomes bound in brown leather and embossed with an unusual rune on the cover. If one were to open them the contents would also be identical and filled with writings, runes and diagrams. Atop one of the books lies a letter:
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  To: Kobal Bluntaxe Regent - Clan of the Crescent Moon and Shield Mount Norand Dregar
  Kobal, old friend:
  I hope this package finds you and the clan well.  This book contains all the knowledge and insight I gained from Ga'Thagor related to a forgotten runic alphabet, the old dwarven magic that once infused the clan's metalworks and so forth.  Sadly the work is incomplete, as it would have likely taken a lifetime or more for Gam to relate it all, but it is a start, and a good one I believe. The contents may mean little to you, but it is my hope that another within the clan will be able to take this and delve deeper in to the mysteries and once more return help return the glory of Heat, Metal, Heart and Magic to the Crescent Moon and Shield.
  I have included everything I could from my talks with Gam, as well as my own observations and insights.  My own notes from those talks were quite jumbled due to the circumstances of our descent, but nevertheless, they should form a good basis for further work.  Know that I am keeping a copy for myself, as well as submitting a copy to the Tower in Spellgard for safe-keeping and further research.  
  If you or your clan ever needs my aid again, you need only ask.  The Weave protect you and the clan.
  Your Friend, Connor
  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  Another note peeks out of the cover of another book, the only visible words are:
  Tower of High Arcana - Spellgard

Title: RE: The Journals of Connor Garvill
Post by: Dorganath on February 21, 2006, 08:17:44 AM

So many things have been happening...so much in motion. Some of it very good, some could become very bad, the rest somewhere in between.
  Eld's duties seem to be smoothing out and our time together has been more frequent and less distracted by business and Church business. Lucinda comes first, for both of us, but still it is nice when She steps back for a bit.
  Kat, however, has been seeming more distant of late. I'm not sure if it's something I've done or some other reason. She moved out...I came home to an emptier house, all of her things and those of Lisse's gone. I knew she was looking, but to leave without even a word...or a note. She says she left one on my desk, but then it would be there, and it isn't. And she has yet to actually give me her new address...to visit Lisse' I'm supposed to look for her stupid horse. Right...
  But, I'll be changing my plans for rennovating the house. Lisse' was going to get her own room, Kat was going to get her own study for practice and recording her stories. I suppose it's good she moved out before work started, but now I need to make different plans. No need to accomodate those who will not be there.
  The Alliance will open officially very soon, the last finishing touches being put on the tower right now. We've also voted to allow bards among our ranks. Being arcane users of the Weave, there seems to be no reason to exclude them. The vote was split, but a majority carried it to acceptance. The matter of Taislin has me concerned, and has me a bit at odds with how to properly address the matter of him defiling a temple of Mist, and in doing so not only made a bigger fool of himself but embarrassed the Alliance.
  Speaking of the Alliance, Lia is much different now that she's free of Xandrial...though it's almost unsettling. She displays emotions other than contempt and hatred. Really not sure what to make of it all. I had grown so accustomed to her just being bitter and hating everyone. She was dependable in that regard. And it is her that has apparenly agreed to extend sanctuary to Taislin and work with Mist's clergy regarding his punishment.
  I suppose we'll see how this all works out. Only one thing brings any measure of certainty and peace amidst the chaotic events of late. But that thing, at least, is very, very good.

Title: Reunion
Post by: Dorganath on February 26, 2006, 02:59:30 PM

It has been....years...far too long really.On achance trip to Hlint, I saw the twins again. Eld had said they were on Mistone, but for all my looking, I had yet to see them. It was very good to run into them. They've grown up so much, though in some ways they're still the children I remember...the ones that were so curious and mischievous. They had heard a rather absurd rumor about me...one I was eventually able to dispel, though it took some time as they were thoroughly convinced.
  I was unsure how they'd take the news about their mother and I. Honestly, things went better than I expected...and Allie seemed to accept the idea more than Silly. I can't blame her really. She's thinking of her father. And Silly wanted to make sure I was careful...though I'm still not sure whether she was talking more about her father dropping mountains on me, or her mother.
  Seeing them again got me to thinking about my own family...the family I left behind, the family I've developed here and the family I have not yet learned to know. The twins are lucky; they have such a large family of people who care for them, who have a history and a bloodline. Where does my own begin?

Title: Far too long
Post by: Dorganath on May 23, 2006, 08:34:59 PM

It has been far too long since I have written here.  The march of months has passed on, the world is changing, coming to a turning point, I can feel it.  So much is happening, for good or ill, change is coming.  

My Eld has busier than ever, tied up with business with the Church and something else of great magnitude.  Our correspondence has been slim, details have been few, our meetings fewer.  Though now that the Arcane Alliance tower has finally opened, I don't think either of us is culpable for our lack of time together.  

More blows have been struck against Bloodstone and his so-called generals.  I honestly do not know if this changes anything for him, but it was quite satisfying, though strangely concerning, when we persuaded Xandrial to return to his own plane.  Moreso, however were the literal death blows dealt to Drezneb and Eon, who fell before my eyes in the deep places of this world. Their blood pools too, now destroyed.

And Milara...He still walks and draws breath, but his plans are in shambles now, and his bloodpool is destroyed, and oh is he ever angry.  We stopped him from doing...something. I don't know what exactly, but whatever he had planned was huge...and I have my theories. His stars have since faded from the sky, along with those of the Serpent. *ink blot* I'd like to think this is the last we'll see of either, but I know that cannot be true.

Title: A Dream of a Forgotten Time
Post by: Dorganath on June 21, 2006, 12:48:37 PM

Connor steps from the door of his parents' cottage in the forest, the late-morning sun filtering lazily through the trees. The air is cool with a slight breeze that flutters the leaves in its passing.  He is fully grown, but his features still show signs of youth. He's clad in the typical garb of one who makes his home in the forests...leather and heavy cloth in earthy tones, functional, durable and quite uninteresting.  "I'll be back in a few hours," he calls into the doorway before closing the door behind him.  He takes a well-worn walking stick that was leaning against the wall and sets out on the path toward town. Some distance away from his home, he passes a large tree, and a voice from behind it speaks.  "You don't belong here," it said calmly. The voice belonged to a man, clothed in dark-colored travelling garments, a dark, woolen cloak and a hood obscuring and shadowing his features, who leaned comfortably and passively against the tree's mighty trunk.  Connor ignored the man.  He had heard such statements all his life, and he learned to simply not give them any thought and to not cause a confrontation. His only response was to keep walking without acknowledgement. He passed another large tree along the path, and again, the same voice spoke.  "This is not your home," it said with equal inflection and tone as before, the same man leaning against the trunk.  As before, Connor kept walking.  As he walked, he approached another large tree and suspiciously looked around its trunk as he passed.  Seeing nothing and no one, he turned his sight back to the path...  ...and to the cloaked man standing in his way.  The man seemed to stand in a shadow, despite the flickering of light passing through the swaying tree branches.  Connor stopped immediately and stared at the man.  He had a quality about him that was different than anyone he had seen, and there was something else...something less tangible that was both compelling and very strange to Connor.  The man spoke again.  "It's time for you to come home," the man said calmly. Connor stared at the man silently, the man's hooded and shadowed features ever unclear in the haziness of the dream. "You know this is not your place, your life," the man coninued.   "I've heard it all before," said Connor in an annoyed tone.  With those words, Connor began to step forward.  "You are not of this world"  Connor froze in mid-step and scrutinized the man more closely.  The man's features and stance betrayed nothing.  The forest seemed to fade around them, detail and color draining away, replaced by an opaque fog of dark grey, the sounds of the forest dampened and flattened and all attention and detail resided solely with Connor and the darkly clad man. Connor simply stared, not knowing what to say. The man let out what might have been a grin as he spoke next, or perhaps it was the change in his voice.  "When you find your voice, trace this symbol..." and with a flick of his hand a coin arced and tumbled toward Connor.  Without thinking, Connor held out his hand and the coin landed squarely in his palm. "...and I will find you," finished the man.  With those words, the man took a step backward and seemed to vanish from sight in a blink and the forest appeared normal once again.  Connor looked down at the coin, studying it's intricately engraved face.  Tiny, cryptic symbols encircled the center, which was smooth except for a single, boldly carved rune.  As he stares, the central rune flares to a painful brightness and a piercing screech....
   Connor sits bolt upright in his bed, the gentle sounds of Krandor's sea breezes and lightly crashing waves filter through an open window to his darkened bedroom. His eyes adjust to the dim light as the breeze through the window cools the sweat on his skin.  As his breathing calms and the images of the dream fade from his waking mind, he lays back down and slips easily back into a dreamless slumber.

Title: Finality
Post by: Dorganath on July 05, 2006, 09:32:48 PM

*On a page by itself rests this entry, written clearly, though with an odd quality, and in a deep blue ink that seems almost iridescent. Though apparently carefully written, parts of this page bear dark spots as if smudged by dirt or ash*
 
  Febra 4, 1402
 
  The war is over.
  Sinthar Bloodstone has met his end.

Title: Answers, questions and mysteries
Post by: Dorganath on October 04, 2006, 07:51:18 AM

*Connor sits in is great room, a warm fire burning in the hearth. He takes a sip of wine and then takes up his journal.  He regards it fondly for a moment, as one would an old friend who has been too long between visits. With a small smile that betrays multiple emotions, he opens it and flips past years of entries to a blank page.  Taking up his quill, he begins to write.*

With greater clarity often comes greater confusion.  For every question answered, so many more questions come to light...so many...mysteries.

There are many things to put down, far too many.  So much has been learned that it seems wrong somehow to summarize, and yet I might be able to fill volumes with what has been learned.

Where to begin?...It's been a long time.  I should have written this down before, when it was still fresh in my mind.

The device in the Minaret, the one that ultimately drained and corrupted the Ilsarians to supply its power, was unlinked and destroyed.  Once we were clear of the Minaret, I began thinking that if one such device could be built, so too could there be others. Though it made me very uncomfortable, I analyzed the device from memory, having gotten a good look at its magical structure before we disassembled it.  In doing so, and with Eld's help, I discovered it uses multiple misdirections to escape detection.  I also discovered that it doesn't bypass the Weave at all...not really...but rather funnels everything through a Lucindite, presumably the one who created the device, presumably Narsil's "associate".  Lastly, woven into every corner of the device was a particular rune, known as a rune of arcane devotion. It symbolizes an unswerving love for the Weave and is very personal to an individual.  Eld told me it is unusual for an arcane user of the Weave to use such things, and it is very nearly clerical in nature. I can only assume this too belonged to the one who built the device.

Though this only further clouds the image.  Why would a Lucindite, one so devoted to the Weave, act in such a manner?

I had a wonderful dinner at Eld's house.  Nanna and the kids prepared a most interesting feast, castle cakes and all.  Before dinner, a conversation with Meli didn't really help to clear things up any...at least at first.  I showed her the sketch of Narsil's associate, and she identified him as and elf named Gildor Anwamanë, apparenly a mage held in very high esteem on Voltrex, and one of extrordinary power and ability as well.  His family too is held in high esteem to this day, though he faded from the public eye about a thousand years ago. Many of his decendents hold positions of influence and authority throughout Layonara, especially within magical circles.  One such is apparently Tári This made things seem even more confusing, until Acacea brought up Unicorns and what had happened to them by his influence if not his hand. With that, Meli told us things which would be considered akin to heresy among the Voltrexian elves. Suffice it to say, he is not as ideal as the elves would have the world believe.

Several days later, I went to meet with Neru, the Pinacles of Sight, along with Acacea, Alantha and Sala, in hopes that she could see more in the purposes of the various items we found in that box of Narsil's.  I was floored to find all of the current Grandmasters in the room, save the Caller of Forms, whose position has not been filled since...the troubles. To make a long meeting short, we confirmed that the rune I found in a variety of devices all bore Gildor's mark, they helped us determine the nature of several of the artifacts, as best they could. The news was not particularly encouraging, for beneath their obvious function always lies another, hidden purpose.  Tári seemed a little unsettled that her ancestor could have been responsible for such things.  In all, there were a lot of questions answered, but still many that stayed clouded. One more disturbing thing: the Grandmasters are all the top of their chosen specialties in each school of magic.  They admitted that whoever made these things was better than all of them, in all schools of magic.  

On a side note, I can say honestly I enjoyed meeting all of them, though a couple could use personality adjustments.  Most surprising was the Pale.  She was really quite amusing and nothing like I would have expected.  The Effigy of Four was interesting as well...he seemed to barely contain the forces he commanded so well.

One more stop in Spellgard, after reviewing with the larger group what we learned, and that was to speak with the Warder. First though, I took an opportunity to look at this pendant shaped as a crescent moon that was found in Narsil's box.  It was a curious piece to me.  It seemed to sing as it turned in the air.  No one could really make much sense of it so far, not even the Grandmasters.  They at least could tell it bore the marks of Conjuration, but without a caller, they couldn't really tell us much. I had a feeling that in the right wind, the pendant would activate, but I was not really ready to try it out.  Rather, I wanted to be sure that the pendant was another of Gildor's works.  So I examined it carefully, seeking out his rune among the strands of magic within the item.

What I found within the small pendant defied wonder and all explanation.  Within was the Weave, in tremendous detail, magesty and beauty.  Words wouldn't really describe what I saw enough, so I won't try, but to say I risked losing myself in it is not much of a stretch, and it may have happened had I not caught sight of Gildor's Rune floating and turning amongst the runic chains.  I had at least one answer, but was no closer to understanding the thing.

The Warder... she still makes me nervous, though I don't know why.  She's very pleasant, really. She was reluctant to speak of Gildor in the way we wanted; I was reluctant to divulge all I learned of him from Meli, but I eventually realized (with some prodding from Acacea) that it was silly to do so.  The Warder had a book brought over from the Guardians, and in it were several works attributed to Gildor.  She found one and had Sala and Alantha work the ritual under her supervision.

It was very complex and lengthy...Beautiful as well, both visually and magically.  Clearly, the ritual was one of summoning, and by the preparations, it was no simple calling.  The Warder assured us it was safe, but with the power of the ritual, it was difficult not to be apprehensive.  The culmination of the ritual came, and it was truly a thing of wonder.  For the briefest of moments, I caught a glance of blue-on-blue eyes and then, through the summoning stepped...a pillar of Lucinda Herself.

Her name was X'athia, and she was the pillar of Mystery, of the hidden secrets of magic. We asked her about Gildor.  Her answers were beyond anything we could have suspected.

Gildor was once the Pillar of Mystery.

He is a master of the mysterious and hidden parts of the Weave, master of concealed purposes and hidden complexities.  And he loves Lucinda and the Weave more than anything and without question or hint of wavering; his devotion to each cannot be questioned.  The problem is, he loved her to the point of wanting Her as his own; he wants to possess Lucinda and by virtue, the Weave. She told his story in as much detail as she knew. Essentially, he is the cause of the war between Lucinda and Ilsare.  This all has been part of some plan, and it's clear he still intends to possess Lucinda. The situation took on a new gravity, and looking back, the state of the flowers outside the Tower seems trivial by comparison.

I asked X'athia about the pendant.  She said it's used to call upon spells hidden within the Weave itself...though she could not tell me what those spells were.  Interesting, but sadly not all that helpful.

She gave warnings to Acacea and Alantha about what lie ahead for them should they continue on this course. For Acacea, it could be summed as a deepest despair.  For Alantha, the pain of an eternally broken heart.  I'd say neither sounds good at all.  I pray these are but possibilities and do not come to pass.

In parting, X'athia spoke to the Lucindites present, and gave them each a message from Lucinda. When she faced me, she said...

*Connor puts down the quill and flexes his hand and rubs his eyes. Resting his head back a moment, he began to drift into sleep. With a startle, he sits back up straight and blinks several times.  Gently he closes the journal with the quill as a bookmark, its tip sticking out the top of the book.  He sets it aside, takes drains the remainder of his wine goblet and reclines a bit, staring into the fire as sleep slowly claims him*

Title: A message
Post by: Dorganath on October 04, 2006, 06:16:59 PM

Connor Close to the Night and the Mystery  The Lady sends to your Her care,  For the care offered and loyalty  You show to Her and Hers.   Delve within and you might find  Truths are deeper than they appear.

These are the words spoken to me by X'athia...a message as close to coming directly from Lucinda as I shall likely ever see while I still draw breath. Though what this message could mean, I do not know. The second part makes perfect sense, especially within the context of the investigations surrounding Gildor. And I understand the part about care, as that seems pretty clear. But what does it mean, "close to the Night and the Mystery"? It is not hard to think that Lucinda would know more of me than I know of myself. It must be important, to have been spoken at all.   It's a reminder that there is much about myself that I don't know, much about my true origins of which I am unaware.   Or perhaps, it was just clever language designed to make me think....or maybe there's another meaning altogether.  Or perhaps I think too much....

Title: Succession
Post by: Dorganath on October 04, 2006, 08:12:54 PM

Yet another delayed writing in this journal.  It's a bit out of order, but perhaps grouping things together will make more sense than a piecemeal rendition of events.  Perhaps if I tell myself that enough, it will be true.  It's been difficult though, so many overlapping things, so many events, both great and small. Finding time to put down my thoughts has been difficult.  This time now, is likely a calm before the storm.

Before the fall of Bloodstone, my sister Kat got somehow involved in events that eventually led to crisis of succession as King Karem Waylend died before our eyes.  She was summoned to Pranzis by a woman named Dezare.  No one had heard of her before, least of all Kat, but we went anyway, right to the castle, as requested.  We were expected, but we find out on arrival that Dezare is ill and the King is near death.  But who was this Dezare person anyway?  She seemed to be some kind of....advisor or trusted friend of the King's, and she was very musically gifted.  Apparently the woman had a...magical command of sound, and through it, she could make wonderful things happen.

It seems the King had been ill like this in the past, and Dezare had cured him through her song, though apparently it was not working this time, perhaps because Dezare was too weak or too old.  I don't really know. As we spoke with Dezare, word came that the King was getting worse.  We rushed down, per request, and stood in the King's bedchambers of all places. Hardly alone of course, there were advisors, the king's wife and two nobles who I assumed were related.I found out later that one of them, Kayana, is the daughter of King Waylend, and the other, Shaviro Palma, is a noble from Roldem but apparently a cousin in King Waylend's family.

Kat tried singing, as Dezare had told her earlier, and it seems the song was working as it had for Dezare, but the King apparently had other plans.  His doctors stated he just decided to die, and die he did.  Quite an odd thing that...watching a king die.

And shortly thereafter, Dezare died.  It was as if she was waiting...maybe sustaining the King for as long as she could.

And then things got very strange.

They couldn't decide a successor, as the two potentials were of approximately equal claim to the throne.  Succession laws favor male heirs, but Kayana was closer in blood.  Under the eyes of the law, both could take the throne, so the advisors and sycophants of each were vying for position.  And then of course there were those who sought the opportunity to make political requests during the time of turmoil.  And on top of all this, while politics and rules could not decide on a successor, the people of Pranzis were running out of food, as the food stores could only be released by royal decree...

And this is the center of our world's authority?

Through a twist of fate, it seemed that Kat would have a great influence in who would succeed King Waylend. Or perhaps she was being recognized as some sort of successor herself to Dezare. To be honest, things just got very confusing in general.  And there were so many questions, like who and what was Dezare?  How does Kat fit into all this? Who could tell more, who should succeed the King: Kayana or Shaviro....or a third... *ink blot*  

Sadly, most of the questions went unanswered.  For starters, in the final days of the war against Blood, I left to Xantril to help take on Blood and his forces directly.  Kat stayed on Dregar to aid in the defense of Pranzis. Unfortunately, the defenders could not withstand the assault by the forces led by one of Blood's "generals"....a dwarf named Broegar.  He claimed the city and installed himsef as the ruler.

Broegar has been quite well-received by most of the residents of Pranzis....or Prantz as he likes to call it now.  I write that with a hint of skepticism, though on the surface, Broegar has done nothing but good things for the city.  The people are fed, the walls and buildings are repaired, the city is safe.  For those who endured the turmoil of 60-odd years of war and the death of a King, I suppose Broegar's rule has been something of a positive. I can't say I agree...but that is not a fight for me to undertake this day.

For all his changes, the one that grates me the most is a banning of the use of magic within the city walls.  Who does he think he is?  And to make the practice punishable by death!!! I am certain the Church will have something to say about this.  In the mean time, however, I will not push my luck.  So I'll mind his little rule...for now.

Some time after, a member of a resistance movement contacted Kat.  He called her an Alysornette...a singer of spells. He was kind of a jerk, really, though that could have been due to the rather harsh verbal treatment he got from Freldo.  I like the guy, but sometimes he needs to learn some restraint of his tongue...or one of these days, he may find it missing.

The man, his name was never given, wanted us to know that at least one of Kayana and Shaviro (he was not sure which, or if it was both) were being held at Arms Keep, pending a very public show trial and execution to be held in Pranzis...or Prantz...whichever.  He contacted Kat on this because apparenly while their prison was warded and watched against magic, he believed the Alysornette could sing her way through undetected.

So the plan was to infiltrate Arm's Keep, rescue Kayana at least (Kat's favored successor) and get her to the resistance near ********* (Location blotted out).  Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, I was not able to regroup with the others in time for this mission.  I did try and track them to Arms Keep, and in fact all indications were that they were inside.  Using my magic, I hid among the rocky cliffs, watching, listening and waiting until they came out, but they never did come out.  Though it became apparent that they were no longer there. Drat!  An alternate exit, as I suspected.  It was time to head back, but first I thought to try and contact the resistance.  I had no luck, and had to turn back to Pranzis, as my sister and friends were due to stand their own trial and execution along side the two heirs.

What a joke that was...what a mockery of a trial.  Not that I'm much for laws or the sometimes overly-complex legal system in general, but to call that a trial is like calling card tricks magic.

Broegar, ever the showman it seems, officiated the trial himself, some puppet Rofireinite posed as their advocate...such a joke. He did, in the end, decide to show his benevolence and mercy and stay the executions of all the accused, including the two potential heirs.  Though in the surprise, the headsman slipped, dropped his axe and beheaded Shaviro on the spot...by "accident" of course. And then as Kayana's bounds were being removed, she lashed out verbally at Broegar, hurling insults and spitting at him...actually the most I've heard from her, well, ever.   Of course, she was rewarded for this by one of Broegar's guards introducing her to his axe.  So scratch two heirs. Those who survived their trials were banished from the city.  So Broegar got what he wanted...a chance to look "fair", he got rid of some "troublemakers" and he got rid of two legitimate heirs to the throne in which he now sits.  I just hope he doesn't know about the third one....

I'm a bit worried for Kat.  She left so quickly after the trial.  Jharl said she was doing well the other day, and that I should talk to her. I certainly wish to do so, and I've been looking for her, but our paths have not seemed to cross as well as I would like.  Though perhaps if I was not quite so far behind on writing, I would have more time.

I have a feeling our paths will cross soon; they have a habit of not staying uncrossed for very long.

Title: Adara
Post by: Dorganath on October 06, 2006, 09:45:06 AM

Following an old map and receipt, we headed for the Blood Desert and a small town called Adara in hopes of finding the group of enchanters who created the wedding jewelry for Narsil and Emily: The Keepers of the Sacred Flame. Our welcome was less than warm, as one of our group...a young Wizard named Malor...decided to take a bath in their drinking water. Even so, we were directed, begrudgingly, to the enchanters' tower...only they no longer occupied it.  Instead, we found an elven scribe who apparently moved into the tower after the enchanters left. He did seem to have a fair amount of information on Narsil and Emily, having gone through all the records before sending them off to Spellgard....figures. We had just come from there.  He also talked about a box he found with the other records, a curious thing with draconic writings and a rather prominent rune. He allowed Brac'ar to copy his notes on the matter, and the rune in question was Gildor's. The partial translation of the inscription is:  [INDENT]Times long past sweep of wings did fall,  Times of past stories of old.  Secrets kept in enchanting space,  Radiance held in magic's embrace.  Story held for warning time,  Tears will fall over spans and lines.  When metal forced and steel hinges part,  Time will come to mend the fallen heart.  Drops of heaven, drops of stars,  Space to find the uncorrupted path. [/INDENT] I guess he tried to open the box but couldn't through any means, physical or magical. And of course, he sent this off to Spellgard as well.  *added later* He's lying...at least in part. The Keepers are still there.  *added later* Brac'ar has some "associates" who may know where the box is now. I hope it pans out.

Title: Radiance
Post by: Dorganath on October 31, 2006, 11:40:33 AM

Seeking information on the Dream that Gildor presented to Lucinda and Ilsare...the one that started the war...we sought out the Dreamers, and with their help, sought the Radiance in the mysterious dream realm. Radiance....how to describe it...dreams given form, but without real form. Once voice, many voices. It really defies explanation. So much we heard from Radiance. I suppose I could spend days trying to detail it all, though I don't think enough room exists in this journal to do so.

Long ago, Gildor came to the dream realm and it changed. It became more, as it is today. And later still, Radiance took form, and that form was known as Asiarenia, Gildor's wife. Asiarenia aided him out of love, and when Gildor placed himself into the Weave, Asiarenia lingered for a time, before fading and returing.

Radiance talked of tools....Narsil, Emily, Minaret, the Unicorns...many more, items and people alike. All tools to Gildor's plan, ourselves included. As we have done, we have done because he has wanted it to be done. Radiance warned that should we stray too far from this plan, he will have ways to force we adhere to his plan. Those who have his rune wrapped around their souls are the leverage, as he can simply release them, and that would be quite fatal to those like Diamond....and Allei.

Asiarenia did what she did out of love, and one more time will Radiance act as such, for when the Tear falls and the directive comes, Radiance will redirect it...and Lucinda will be bound and Gildor's long effort will be complete, even though Radiance's love for Gildor will then go unfulfilled.

Asiarenia did speak of the box, the one mentioned in Adara, and the one Brac'ar claims to know how to get. The box was hers, and she made it when she was angry at Gildor. Inside, she put the means to undo his plans, though she did not elaborate...perhaps because we did not ask. In hindsight, that may have been a mistake, for we will seek to find the one and only person who can unlock it...an elven girl somewhere in Saida, descended from Asiarenia and Gildor but who is all "hers". Any of the other of their many descendants cannot, and any others who try will find the effort extremely fatal. I am a little apprehensive about what the box may contain. The creations of an angry woman are nothing to treat lightly.

Title: The imprisoned
Post by: Dorganath on November 06, 2006, 07:00:23 AM

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Title: Shadows of the past
Post by: Dorganath on November 06, 2006, 11:10:37 AM

*written in what could be termed a combination of urgency and anger*
 
 Why can they not stay in the dark where they belong?!?!?  A stupid question, I know, for the ways of the Drow are sinister and borne of hate and a lust for power.  Meli was attacked...not long after we traded a book for another book and a bead...in the Blood Desert near some of the ruins...robbed of the Tome of Conjuration, stabbed and left for dead with a poisoned blade in her stomach... *ink blot*
 
*the writing calms slightly, but is still angry*
 
 Old adversaries, these drow, these particular drow...this poison.  Though never have they used so much. Thank Lucinda that Plen was present when Faewen came by in a state unusual for even her.  How her convoluted sense of logic led her to my door with Meli lying bleeding in Eld's pool, I'll never know, but it is fortunate all the same.  Plen healed her other wounds, but the poisoned wound resisted.  He removed as much of the venom as he could, but I knew it has already begun to take effect. She's in the care of the healers at Prunilla now...for the time she has.
 
 At the sight of the attack, Kobal, Lalaith, Plen, Kat, Acacea and I...well, mostly Lalaith, found evidence to the battle...and confirmation of who had done this...The Silence.  Veldrin's order.
 
 *written almost with a hint of amusement*
 
 And then there was the "gnome" dressed up like one of them.  Meli's handiwork, I'm sure.  Transformed from his true Drow form and Stuck in the ruins where Meli cast him before she succumbed to her injuries, hiding like a rat deep inside near an altar that may have once held the book that Meli carried...the one stolen by the Drow.  This "gnome" confirmed what I had suspected.  All he did not say, is why.  He said he'd tell us if we got him out, but he did not like our terms.  Probably he would have killed us the moment he was outside...though that would have been difficult, as we relieved him of his equipment. I doubt strongly he would have given anything useful...all the better, as he threw himself on the wards of the altar.  What remained was little more than some tissue and a few scraps of an old robe.  Good riddance.
 
 Or perhaps he would have given a clue, but there are other ways to find out their reasons.  Though knowing more of the books themselves might help to understand the reason for the contract.

Title: Deterioration
Post by: Dorganath on November 06, 2006, 11:16:05 AM

*written a few days after the previous*
  The poison eats away at her, slowly, eroding the very magic in her soul.  Eventually, there will be nothing left of Meli worth saving. We can keep her strength up by regular infusions of magic, though it is draining to the donor, we can recover.  If it helps her hang onto life, then it's worth the effort.  The tell-tale mark on her neck hasn't formed anything more than a bruise...the spider form has not emerged, nor do I now expect it to.  Perhaps she was not meant to survive, so there was no need to prepare the...insurance.
  I have to believe she'll recover.  I will find it in my power to see that it happens.
  Lucinda watches.
  Lucinda provides.

Title: Fear of loss
Post by: Dorganath on November 06, 2006, 11:27:27 AM

The older part of me, the one who grew up simple in some forgotten forest takes great comfort in constancy...in knowing that things will remain somewhat constant or that in waking up one day, one finds things mostly as they were left. There is a certain calming, mundane contentment in such a thing, freeing the mind from the worries and troubles of a world that is always in motion, despite our best efforts. In the utter chaos of the last thirty-some years, such simple pleasures are few and far between.

The me that is now (though truly there is only one me and different parts of me choose to make themselves known from time to time), the me who has seen and embraced things so fantastic as to be quite beyond my old imagination, the me who has grown in faith and strength through Lucinda's loving embrace...that me knows that the only truly constant thing is change. It is what makes magic what it is, it is what encourages us to take that next step forward, what drives us evermore into what comes after. Even the constants in life change. Change is always. Change is necessary. Change is good.

Yet knowing such things and feeling them with sureity and certainty in the midst of difficulty can be disconcerting at the best, frightening or even paralyzing at the worst. Such is the difficulty of the now, and I find myself looking at the most troubling aspects of loss that I have ever faced. It has taken me some time to put down my thoughts. As if the prospect of Gildor's ultimate success was not enough, it's very difficult to grasp the true scope of what Eld has told me of a matter, perhaps, far more grave...almost incomprehensible to think that Lucinda Herself could be harmed, damaged or cursed through the very gifts that She gives freely to all...and that Eld could be lost permanently to this conspiracy, consumed as a mere component of a curse...a tool, a means to an end.

For rightful reasons, this has scared her, and me as well. The attack on her mother has not helped. She turns to me for comfort, and I try my best to provide it and support her through this difficulty, but it is hard, very hard, for I feel my words of encouragement are hollow, as I have little behind them except for faith...and a desire to keep what it has taken me so long to find. And guilt...the many pieces within me do battle for control of my mind, my heart, my soul. Each wants to have their say, and each has a voice that grows louder with each passing moment. For Eld and I, Lucinda is first before each other...our first and greatest concern. Such as it has been and will always be Though it would be a lie to say that whispers cannot turn into roars...whispers that tell me to defend and hold onto my Amael with everything at my disposal. Such has shaken my faith, not in Lucinda, but in myself, and so some of the darker voices, the hurt voices from the past, the voices that warn of threats where none exist, the voices which tell me to retreat back inside the emotional fortress in which I lived for so long before we became us...these voices speak up to be heard.

The struggle is constant, for the voices that desire happiness, the voices who do not listen to whispers of doubt, the voices that set me down this path...they speak as well, and they are heard, and it is those voices I seek to embrace. I admit, my success in that area needs improvement. Bah! I am rambling.

Soon, we will embark on a series of urgent tasks, the final to ensure Lucinda is not harmed, if we are successful. The chance of loss of the two I love most deeply is less, but still very real. Our enemies will bring great forces to bear on us. We can only have faith that our preparations and strength will pull us through. Still, there is the fear that the two greatest constants in my life...constants that are always changing...will be lost.

Preparations are made...Faith will see us through.

*written later in an excited manner*

Amael is safe!

Lucinda is safe!

*and then as an after-thought*

And She has a really nice house.

Title: Desert Mystery
Post by: Dorganath on November 12, 2006, 02:43:33 PM

*A few bits of sand are wedged in the pages where this entry lies*

Meli is stable for now, magic infusions helping her keep up her strength, which I suppose buys us a little bit of time. I'm so very conflicted as to what to do. Knowing so little about the Tomes, it is difficult to think of why someone might request a contract to steal it, or to add Meli on as a "bonus". The clues so far seem to lead to Adara and a 50 year-old murder. *ink blot*

We know the cure for this, or a possible cure...all the ingredients are gathered, and ready to be assembled, but there are great risks, and I have sworn to protect...part of the cure...at all costs, and I am certain our old enemy will make an appearance at the attempt. For this, we must plan and plan well. All is lost if we rush.

And that which cannot leave my mind is the memory of the dream, or nightmare really, in that curious little box. The dream was many years of hardship and struggle to fix what the Drow had done, return what they had taken. That the dream could have been more seems likely; almost everyone returned from it physically changed in some way. If there's even such a possibility, it would be better if it never happens at all. *the period was dotted with some force, denting the page slightly*

For now, there is a mysterious shack in Adara, half a tale from "THE Greg", a blown up amulet, a dress for a pregnant elf, a vial of perfume, some sand that just won't behave...and magic that does not conform. This is important, I feel it. A short time more, and then we move on.

*below, several strings of runes appear, which while being clearly magical do not make any sense at all in conventional terms. *

Title: Realization
Post by: Dorganath on November 19, 2006, 12:06:00 PM

How could I have let this happen? How could I lose sight of something so important as the life of Meli?  Was it my hope to avoid the risks involved with the cure?  Was I seeking to protect Magic from whatever plans the Drow or their employers may have had?  Did I let my curiosity get the best of me?  Was I doing what I thought Meli would have wanted me to do?  She did say to seek the Giant Head before slipping back into unconsciousness... *ink blot*

I don't know...  It doesn't seem as clear as it did any longer. I feel I misled myself, or allowed myself to be misled. Faith? Optimism? Fear? Either way, it was the voice of a friend with a knack of pointing out what should be obvious, but at times simply is not, that helped me to realize my error. A missive from the Tower came as well, but after my mind was already made up. I pray this realization does not come too late.  

Plans are in progress, plans to complete a task that started long ago...one that perhaps should have been completed sooner, but in retrospect, if it had been, the cure might not be available to Meli now.  Only two other possible sources of information remain regarding this venom.  If those do not reveal themselves to be immediately useful, then we move on. Other concerns will have to wait.  The mystery of the shack, the items found within, the trapped spirit...they have persisted for fifty-odd years, they can wait a bit longer.  

May Lucinda light our path, and may She keep those dear to Her safe...just a short while longer.

Title: The Path Taken
Post by: Dorganath on December 03, 2006, 06:28:06 PM

Several options before me...several paths to take, none seeming clearer than the others as each had reasons, both practical and personal for pursuing. One, a path walked long ago, now a path of life, love and completion. Another, a path of duty and service, though perhaps such terms to not describe the path quite accurately. Last, a path of curiosity and possibilities, of past and of knowledge. For better or worse, a choice has been made, and this path must be followed for it's length. Lucinda willing, it will cross back with the others. I feel it's the right one. I can only pray it ends up being the best one.

This path, however, has taken some unexpected turns. Some more welcome than others. It is funny, though usually welcome, how many times some fears end up going unrealized, while others, usually a very few, end up coming to pass with uncanny resemblance to the most dire of predictions...and still others, old forgotten fears sometimes find ways of making sure they are never forgotten in some rather unexpected ways. *ink blot*

And now, with the means of salvation in-hand, the means of freedom for so many and life for one now complete after what seems like an age, I find I am now faced with more questions than I thought this would create...and yet another puzzle to solve.

Title: Unwritten
Post by: Dorganath on February 12, 2007, 07:11:24 AM

*Several pages are missing here, as evidenced by them being torn roughly from the bindings. Based on the tear patterns, they were removed individually, as though each was a separate and failed attempt at writing something.  The next page after the ones torn out reads simply...*

It's been a long time.  Too long.  But finally a burden that has been carried by a few and that has plagued thousands more is at an end.  Those marked, those whose souls were slowly being dissolved in the venom of a dark god are free.

Title: Spontaneity
Post by: Dorganath on February 12, 2007, 07:12:48 AM

Sometimes the most spontaneous decisions and actions can have the most profound effect or be the most rewarding...or sometimes both. In my life, there have been a few, some which I recall now and refelct how well they have influenced my life thereafter, others which sit just at the edge of memory, waiting to be rediscovered at some other time. Sometimes such decisions are viewed favorably in general, while others are viewed as foolishness...though often it is both and greatly dependent upon the viewer

My latest such spontaneous act seems to fall into the second category. A few understand though, and I guess that's what's important. The odd looks and offers of aid I get would be greatly amusing to me, were it not for the headaches...those can be managed though. It's been a difficult adjustment, sharing my head with another...for both of us, I think. It has been very interesting though, and it would take pages to describe the interactions we share. He does not talk but communicates in images and feelings...and sometimes blinding headaches. It's all very new to us both, but we're adjusting...and I've learned to brew Willow Bark tea in a way that the flavor is not completely distasteful.

For as unnatural as it may seem to many, there is no coercion on either part, and I know I will miss him when he is gone, one way or the other. And he's been helpful in trying to understand what happened to him and his family. His sister too...thankfully she's still quite alive and living in her own head, and under Eld's watchful care.

He's a smart boy, and seemingly has a touch of talent...like his mother, unless I miss my understanding. Something she knew, or sensed perhaps, may have led to their fate. One by one, those responsible, and those who would use them for whatever purpose are being tracked down. The Scrying Eyes should stay away, I think. If not, I'll send another message. I'm beginning to feel sorry for the man though. His lucidity and sanity are fragile things. And why does Welke send him into hysterics?... I hope once is enough. Storold's protections against his gaze have been effective, but he cannot maintain them indefinitely. We'll need to keep watch, but it's something we can manage. Lucinda provides.

Title: Different
Post by: Dorganath on May 11, 2007, 06:24:02 PM

*The following entry is scrawled across the page haphazardly.  The writing is rushed and sometimes manic.  The page is dotted by stains that seem to indicate both candle wax and drops of water*

Always there is change[INDENT][INDENT]              Things are different now
[/INDENT][/INDENT]Better? Worse? Perhaps...Together still, but not the same

Different isn't bad is it? Can it be how could it be?

Sadness much sadness sleep now sleep comes to us and dreams
Sadness comfort together apart pain of hurt and time and memory
Sad and tired and dreaming and awake and cold and tired and happy and angry so angry
[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]                                         Why why why why they need to go away
[/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT][INDENT][INDENT]              So tired rest now soon but not now
[/INDENT][/INDENT]WHY DID THEY HAVE TO DO IT???

*The remainder of the page is marked by smeared ink and lightly scorched parchment*

Title: Resolution
Post by: Dorganath on September 18, 2007, 07:39:27 PM

The passing of time is a strange thing. Events come and go, and obstacles no matter how great they seem at the time all eventually crumble in the relentless march of moments, as even the mightiest of mountains are worn down by the ever-flowing winds and waters.

Nearly half a century has passed since I answered the call of a dream.  I wonder if things are truly much different now than they were then.  The world faced different challenges then than it does today, yes.  Yet the whispers and rumors I hear do little but make me suspect we have traded one threat for another.

A pair of letters arrived...one from an unknown source about someone and something very well-known, the other from a known source for reasons unknown.  One problem resolved, another emerges. I suspect such will be the way of things.  Always the same, always changing.

Once more the flow of time carries me along, a continual movement through destiny. For now, I float along with it, for ahead I foresee a junction of sorts, and for that, I may need to swim.

Title: End
Post by: Dorganath on September 21, 2007, 04:04:59 PM

*Connor sits in his darkened study, the last blue-grey light of the day filtering in just enough to outline the room's contents.  He walks to his desk carrying his journal.  He sits at his desk, placing the journal on its surface before him.  With a thought and the slightest hint of a gesture, one that has become more habit than necessity, the surface of his desk is illuminated from above by a soft white glow. In the light, the journal is revealed as an old book whose simple leather cover is littered with smudges, scrapes and stains of all varieties, whose pages show evidence of various environments and occasional mistreatment and which has expanded beyond its original binding with the miscellaneous extra scraps of parchment poking out between pages.  He opens the journal intently to the very last page, all others being filled with the kinds of things that journals typically collect. He takes a rather ordinary quill from its holder and dips the tip into a black ink of unremarkable quality and begins to write...*[INDENT]

I suppose we always knew that at least one of us would not endure past the end of these trials. I had mixed feelings when I received the news. I had long suspected our next meeting would be the turning point for one of us...perhaps even both, though I also knew there was a good chance such a meeting would never happen.

And so it will not.

But for the lasting imprint of such events on those who were touched by them, the things which brought us all together and which seemed so dire at one point have begun to fade into the background noise of daily life...just one of many happenings for good or ill.  It would be a story to pass down, if one could call it a story at all.  Most stories have a proper conclusion; this one simply ends.  Whatever it is you did will likely never be known by any to whom it mattered most.  I suppose I should not expect anything different. Such was always your way.

Even so, I had hoped for one last meeting...once more to stand before you and to know whether we would stand together for a common purpose or opposed as adversaries evermore. There were answers I needed from you, but now, the questions seem no longer important or even valid. All but one, though the answer to that question seems to be answered.  Or perhaps not.  As such things have gone, I may find my own answer to the question, or I may not.  I don't expect it will matter either way.

And so it has ended. I doubt you will ever see this, so it is more for me than you. If by some circumstance our paths somehow cross in whatever lies beyond this life, it will be a new beginning for both of us, I think. For all the things I might want to say, there is really only one thing left that has any meaning:

Thank you, Brother....thank you




and good-bye.



[/INDENT]*Connor replaces the quill and places the cap back on the inkwell. He blots the ink on the page dry. Without hesitation or ceremony he closes the joural, then with his hand on the cover utters some quiet words of incantation. A pale blue nimbus surrounds the book for a moment before absorbing into it and vanishing completely.  He stands and picks up the book from the surface of the desk and places it on a shelf on the other side of the room, taking up residence among an assortment of other books and tomes collected over the years.  He walks from the room, and with a gesture the glow above the desk fades out and the room is dark.  Moving through the dim light of the house, Connor gathers a few things into his pack, offers up a small silent prayer at his shrine to Lucinda, and retrieves his staff that rests propped up against the wall.  He makes one final survey, then moves to his portal, steps in and vanishes.*