The World of Layonara
Character Development => Development Journals and Discussion => Topic started by: Gecklian on May 27, 2006, 07:59:57 PM
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I have arrived in Hlint and found myself terribly underprepared. Thanks bbe to the Bind Stone that has kept my soul whole and too many occasions. Death is not an experience I deign to have again. I believe my mother died once. It was through her resurection that the performing Priest planted the seeds that became my twin brothers. since when did a follower of brandeback ever perform something without the promise of a reward?
I am stronger now. Though still not strong enough for the likings of my own cause. I must be careful.
The pitances I recieve for the labours i endure are not satisfying. I desire more. I want more. I endevour now to increase my sway over those that I must barter with for my soul.
I will possess the beauty of darkness
sometimes i wonder if i should have been a bard?
Pacing.
A measurement in steps
Pertained to creating lengths
Filled with the gaps between us.
In form of shufflings,
The moments drew themselves further
And consciousness relieved me of sleep.
One step pulling further
Taunt the lines across my face
Which frowned in deeper furrows.
Distance encapsulating
Yet drawing away still further
All delinquencies.
Watching.
Time spun and circled
Around the wrist in wait.
I was a turtle too slow,
Unable to keep up with all
That pushed at me in possibles.
Head twisted, I swallowed
My prescription.
But the mind remained in un-fixed
Bemusement.
Learning.
I who could not, in my reaching
Touch on the subtlety.
I who could not
Stop my feet from falling
Or bring them any closer to my when.
I who was nothing,
Trying to remain as naught.
Always.
In finding rhythm I lost
My ability to dance, as
I grew too many limbs.
They flayed me.
Strike upon liveliness
Which stretched me further to complete
Un-comprehension
And flog me.
Strips fell not gently but
Like stones,
Dropped from a high-rise
Pinnacle of amber.
Dead.
Still breathing.
;
When in finding that which was meant
To be your sustenance,
Did you refuse to eat and simply
Allow further your anorexic infection
To deny you?
Bone protruding but not
From starvation.
I was never hungry at all.
Definitions.
Tracing outlines,
The pencil broke so I
Opened a vein in the tip of a finger.
Do you mind that I painted you
With crimson?
My blood didn’t want to come
In any other colours so
Red would have to do.
Though I like you in blue.
Causes.
A left swing swung
And swiped away the fingers
Even though they were reaching.
Perpetual moon.
Little orb taking full control
Of this femininity.
Call it anything but
Don’t call it truth for than
You might be discovered.
Tracking.
Disappearance was watched,
Visually impaired I flung
Away the cane.
What use was it to see?
I heard everything my eyes feared
So closed them completely.
Sunlight turned into falling
Clouds of night while
The stars cried.
Finished.
Another sip that filled you
Yet emptied me completely.
I am what I wasn’t;
Not that you wanted me to be or
That which could fail your challenge
Of not being disappointing.
Fragile.
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Realy quite amusing I think. A bard to write such tripe. Still i find little sustenance in the sales i make. I must kill the beasts that linger on the outskirts of Hlint to scavenge the funds I need to improove my own self. I dont like it. ponder to myself often of why it was I came here. Should I have stayed in my own land?
I was one with the woods of the Weep, sustaining myself on the eggs of birds and herbs.
I miss home
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Interesting
I was invited int a large party the other day by a half giant named Gronk. the party was raiding some iron mines that had been infested by Ogres. i am afraid that I may not have been all that much help to the party as a whole but the experience it gave me will proove to be invaluable. And ofcourse I did end up back in Hlint standing next to the Bind Stone.
Reflextions on death
pity me my soul for my heart no longer beats as it did afore
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Separatism fail me
I have resigned myself to the fact that persons will continue to heal me when i dont really want the healing. Perhaps I should stay with the shadows as my name bequeath, though I admit having other around comes in handy during sticky situations. shadows dont always keep ones face hiden nor are they safety from all beasts.
I am finding fishing and cooking to be very handy past times whilst awaiting the ability to recooporate from wounds. I am also finding the tinkers kiln quite a handy device. Once I have perfected its use some more i will study on other skills so as to be more prepared in battle.
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It has been so long since i have been here to write.
It seems that death still haunts me.
It lingers ever on my concious
I have made some friends i guess that are of note and have lost some also. In growing up I had no friends. the diety of my liniage has become something of a point of ache among some. Also my continued crafting of poisin vials to dress upon my arrows. It ahs cause me to become cynical and slightly bitter. Thogh there has been some pluses.
A Drow Elf I met of un-evil intent found me some dust of branderback. I paid well for it but believe it to be worth it.
I worry though that more of my "friends" will not be friends when they learn of my spiritual aliegence. Ah branderback perhas you are right.. I need not friends but those bring to me.
I have heard nothing of my family and no words of any pursuit. I hope this means that my Ftaher has accepted my choice to leave... as silently as I did.
I have bought new leathers that my lord wouldbe pleased with. Black they are stained with the blood of panther. so precious they be. The Fur cloak and skins cover me nicely and provide for better places to hide. I like
I have also bought a new bow and Iron sword. my hickory was tired and cracked and this Oak bow feels so much more truer in its aim.
Mala has grown stronger though sometimes she is reckless in her endevours. I have lost her several times to ogres and once to the pack of bugbears that now has my body buried in their midsts. Perhaps Jaleel or Nepp will aide me?
i will see
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Cym has re-aqainted himself with me. though he has still made it clear that he does not aproove of my beliefs nor my dallying in the poisin arts we are again venturing off together on certain pursuits. The three of us make quite a good team ad unlike some other clerics i have met he is not overly pompous or bigited.
i am getting much better at my arrow production and am spending alot of time minning tin for making bronze. i do need to collect more poisin scks though for that production. Perhaps I should work more on infusions too.
i have met a couple of interesting females that are followers of Mist. though one seems to have me slightly under a spel. she intrigues me muchly with her scarlet eyes and prodruding kanines. I find myself breathless in her pressence. she is chaos
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has been so long since I added anything to here. I look at my past writings and wonder what more have i dont to merrit more lines upon this partchment? i am still lost of a true direction that i should be following. I am unsure of myself and find myself doing silly things, getting to close to the flames tat would leep out and consume me. The Demoness of Mist that seemed to have had me so enrapt has shifted her gaze to other places and the spell she had upon me has lifted it seeems.
i am still traveling much with Cym and he has assisted me in several exploits whilst allowing me to tag along on some of his more dangerous outtings. the experience of this has been most helpful.. I have obtained another amulet from him also. this one is that of the fox and might make me smart enough to be able to work on other things that i have yet been unable to.
i still ponder maybe working more towardas some bbardic pursuits but amafriad that I may be a little too inclined to stay in my own company or little groups that are not too overbearing. i do like to make up woords for little songs
In the moment when it fell
the tiny grain became
a part of the mountain.
Climb with me?
Upon the apex I viewed the valleys
and realised that in those
was a home where in gentleness I could hide.
The cotton balls wafted past me
touching my eyes
and taking there, tears to make rain.
What beauty this was in the flower it grew?
I have taken to carrying flowers with me now. i like them.
hmm something of note.. the Druids are threatening to take mala away from me. i dont know how they intend to do this but it is what they are saying. i politly told them to go take the thumb of a Hill giant and shove it up their rear ends. Well ok i was a little more reserved then that but they still angered me greatly. mala is the only one that has stayed with me and has always been there.... except when she has been a little sillier then she should be regarding Ogres or bugbears. "a smiles upon the pages" i do so believe that i love that bear.
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Druids are a bunch of self righteous pig swill. when the so called high druid dies I hope for the sake of the trees it happens amongst the rocks so that her carcass cannot putrify the roots of life.
I hear spring touching
Across the lobes of sensation;
Seduction softly lulling
On the velveteen drops of
Opening burgundy.
It was a chorus chortled
Through the crystal sands
Rimmed
In Miranda, long dead
But never
Buried, just
Processed to prolong
The living lustre it once
Attained whilst standing upright
Upon
Different shorelines
With so many other leafed dwellers
That didn’t know what spring was, only
That the rain was that which pulled
Away the soils where once
They stood.
Processed nutrients scattered
Over soft green knives for the ferals
To consume
And I wondered if their children
Enjoyed the
Poisioned consumption.
My love will return and again we will lick each others wounds
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I guess it has been decided for me.
the way of the druid is here denounced. No druid will ever call me friend and from now I shall bury myself deeper into the arts of poisin as deemed appropiate by my Lord and GOD Branderback. The self righteous that name themselves protectors of nature have made me an enemy. I believe i shall have to catch me a spider and mala and I will be no more.
Fare well my love