The World of Layonara
Character Development => Development Journals and Discussion => Topic started by: theophilusmousse on May 17, 2007, 03:22:54 AM
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I have been meaning to start putting my thoughts in ink for some time now, but I always manage to find something else that needs being done. In truth, ever since Lindpen was killed,I have avoided thinking about anything. This is actually the first time I have scribed anything of consequence since that day. I received a swift slap in the face to wake up the day i felt the claws of the soul mother for the second time. In truth, i have been reckless- even seeking out death, haunted and in pain. I did not see it for what it was at the time of course. I merely spent my days wandering alone, not healing in the solitude of the wilderness, but hiding from the pain of having lost the friend who was like a brother to me.
Another thing that has finally gotten me thinking again is the talk I had with Eghaas. I had recently lost my soul strand, and was planning on sitting at the fire outside the Stormcrest shack and staring into the flames for awhile. While I had never intended on having a conversation that night (in fact upon seeing people at the fire, i usually pass it by entirely, or only stay for a few moments) when Eghaas spoke his second name -”treebringer” in elven, something woke in me that had been sleeping for quite some time. We spent most of the night at the fire talking, sometimes in elven, sometimes in common. He appeared quite interested i my tattoos, and i told him of Lindpen. Eghaas seemed to think that they had a special meaning. This has got me thinking because Lindpen told me there was a significance to the designs I had chosen, but he wanted me to learn it for myself. Anyway, I suppose the details of what we spoke of are irrelevant, the result, however is something I must spend sometime considering. I have been acting like a fool. My friend would never want me to be taking the risks I have been taking. I can even picture him with his fists on his hips scolding like he was my big brother. Even picturing it makes me both smile and vow to do better.
Up until now, I have just been jumping in and hacking away wildly with my sword. Since what I will call my “awakening”, I have been trying to be more thoughtful and deliberate about my encounters. This is how I finally succeeded in delivering that magic stick to Trent! I used my bow to lure the creatures to me, and by the time they reached me, they had been “softened” a bit. In ont ofthese battles I had yet another realization. As they came around the corner of the cliff wall it hit me that THAT had been a perfect place to set a trap down ahead of time. Leafshadow and the others showed me how it is done, and while I never had the chance to get very good at it, I'm sure I could remember the trick of it.
Thinking back on my time with the caravan guards, they showed me many things that could prove useful, if I had only been less eager to take out my pain on those against us. I remember what seemed like endless lessons on lines of sight, and using your opponents bodies to block their ability to see your strike. Leafshadow must have spent a month just trying to teach me how to move to strike an opponent while remaining out of their line of sight. At the time, I was desperate to keep busy, I really didn't care what he was teaching me, because when I was idle, the sence of loss felt like a dagger to the belly. When it came time to fight, i could lose myself in bloodlust and rage... rage at my loss, and bloodlust at being able to strike back at something. I became something of a mindless savage in those battles. I see now just why I never used the skills I spent my time trying to learn... I had become mindless and burning with a need I didn't understand. I understand now that the skills Leafshadow tried teaching me require planning and intense focus during battle. I hope my memory of his lessons have not faded beyond use, as I think I must begin finding a path other than the one I have been on. Not just in the forms and techniques of my fighting, but I feel I have been fighting two enemies every time I draw my sword... the one before me, and the one within me. I can feel it in my bones, that if I am to survive, I must change that.
I was just heading out from Hempstead for a load of sand when someone introducing herself as the “Cat Witch” said she was looking for someone to help her mine iron. By the time everything was sorted out and we were ready to leave, there was “cat”, myself, a halfling, and a woman named Kinai. Just getting to Haven was an adventure because we got split up on the way there.. there was a lot of shouting and cursing into the woods until everything was sorted out. --this was partially my fault i fear-- but I did learn a new path through the wood, one that thankfully does not involve being beated to a bloody pulp by a horde of Ogres, or clawed to ribbons and devoured by a pack of werewolves.
There is so much I have to learn about this land. Every time I learn a new path, or set foot somewhere I have never been, I am reminded of how little I know and how much I have yet to learn.
It is a similar feeling to what I had when watching Kinai fight the gnolls in the mines. -It was as if she would become a misty shadow and suddenly she would be standing somewhere else with her blade sticking out of some exposed portion of one of the brutes. More than once I found myself just watching the gracefully brutal dance of her blades... it gives me something to strive for. With enough work and care, I feel could some day match that level of skill. ---Anyway, my thoughts are just tumbling out in disordered strands.. so where was I? I made it down to the lower levels of the mines-- and truthfully, there was very little contributed by myself. I did kill, or help in the killing of several of the gnolls, but I think that most of the ones I did kill, were already bleeding from multiple obscure locations courtecy of Kinai-- and those that did not fall to blades either burned to ash- or dropped where they stood—presumably actually scared to death. HA! Which brings me to another thought. Before I began adventuring, I had actually seen very little magic, there was that night Lindpen was burned alive inside his house, and the night I was set free from slavery at the factory (and almost free from my life as well). Those two events, one terrifying yet with a personally beneficial result, the other terrifying and with a personally devastating result, seem to have shaped my view of magic. I hold a deep respect for the damage it can to, yet still consider it to be a tool, much like my sword. Like any tool, magic can be put to either evil or good use... and some may be considered to be both. I doubt the owner of that factory...if he survived that night... looks back on its destruction with fondness...while I consider the magic wielded that night to have both set me free, and given me a chance to have a life. I look at those like Kinai and find myself wondering if I could ever learn the knack of using some of these enchanted items...still... there is a surety and intimacy to the use of a blade...perhaps I will look into this when the time seems right.....and there go again, my thoughts wandering off on side trails, but I feel I need to get these thoughts out to help understand myself better.... Sothere we were, in the mines, the gnolls noticed us...or more than likely ME, and suddenly I find myself surrounded by 4 or 5 of the things. Caught off guard I fear I died quite quickly and found myself weak and shaking before the bindstone in Hempstead. I only hope that my death didn't inconvenience the others overmuch.... at the same time I fear they did not.
I am sitting at the campfire, there is nobody else around, and this place is always so peaceful that I usually find myself lost in thought. Thinking back on the time I spend with the merchant caravan guards before I came to Hlint, I am ashamed to myself. If only I had not been such a fool. I can see now that what could have been an excellent chance to lean, was wasted by my pain and blind need to lash out. All I cared about at that time was facing an enemy and killing it. My pain had no room for strategy or tricks. I see now, that I wanted to die, to end the pain... and if my enemy was unable to end my pain, its death might serve to ease it a little. This did not work of course. My pain never lessened with the various monsters and bandits I slew... and this fact only served to make me more reckless, more eager to die.
Of course I didn't realize all this back then, I guess I have only recently come to understand how big a fool I have been. I scoffed at strategy because I did not truly desire to win, I ignored techniques which would allow me to strike both first and most effectively because I wished to instead be struck down. It is a wonder I have survived this long. Perhaps I can remember the trick of some of these skills...I can certainly see their use now, but I fear remembering and eventually perfecting them will only be more difficult for needing to work it out on my own.
Today I spent some time seeing just what I remember of how to move about quietly. I decided while gathering some ginseing that the moors were the perfect place to try “creeping about”. I was doing fairly well when I got a bit over-confident. One of there lizard-man things noticed me...he must have been a shaman of some kind because suddenly I am surrounded by lightening! Thankfully,, I was far enough away that when I ran, he didn't consider me worth the effort of chasing after. I left after that, not wanting to press my luck too far. From there I went back toward Hempstead, and then on toward Haven. I decided not to chance the path through Seilwood –Silkwood I guess it is called now – and as I was leaving Hlint I remembered a marshy area near where the road turns to head toward Haven. I thought “sure, why not” and sneaked along the way into the marsh.
As soon as I entered it, I could feel the difference of the air, thick and heavy with moisture and the buzzing of insects. I looked around, and not 30 feet from me was someone attempting to fight an unusual floating ball of light. I decided to try giving aid, but when I tried to draw my sword, I found one of my bags had shifted over the hilt, and a strap had further tangled the whole mess. Well I never did get my sword loose, because when I looked up, he is running past me toward the fields...he never even saw me. I checked my surroundings and realized I was standing in a perfectly suited patch of shadow. Then Isaw thelight –Wisp I guess they are called – following him toward the field... It stopped right next to me and I froze. It had not seemed to notice me yet. It floated there for a handful of seconds, and just as I started to relax, then it attacked me. Never having managed to free a weapon, I had to defend myself with my bare hands. The thing must have been nearly dead, because after a single strike, it fell to the ground and it's light slowly faded. Well other than talking with the fellow – Cedrick I believe he said – to assure him the wisp was dead and wouldn't be chasing him, the rest ofthedaywas pretty uneventful. I did a bit of exploring along the overgrown way northeast of Hlint and found another spot suited to digging sand, but my memorable accomplishment for the day was remembering a bit of how to hide and move about quietly... and realizing that I still have far to go.
Well I had another encounter at the campfire outside the stormcrest shack. I swear, if I tire of introspection, I will need to avoid that place. Praylor was there. It has been so long since I have seen him last, I didn't recognize him or his voice. The little fellow Bumblebee was also there, and for the first time in my life... I saw -and met- a WEMIC!! Up until now, I thought them to be just tales and myth. Quite imposing she was too, her powerful cat claws casually pawing at the earth as she listeened to us. Bumblebee said she did not know common, yet looking into her face, I could see it wasn't from lack of intelligence.
It never even occurred to me until now to find out if she knows elven, I can only imagine how difficult things will be for her until she learns common. Oh, and there was one other there, a woman in red robes. I don't recall her name, but she came up to me while I was resting at the pool outside Hempstead—she offered, and managed to be rude about even an offer of assistance. She then went on to badger a fellow who was trying to catch some fish—asking for some fish instead of finding something to eat on her own. Well what does she do as soon as she gets to the fire? Ask for food! Praylor gave her what looked to me to be about a month's worth! I imagine she will have it all eaten within the week. I really shouldn't let her bother me so much but ah well... back to what I meant to be writing about... I explained to Praylor the trouble I have been having with Lindpen's death...
his answer was like...
I don't know...
...like soaking weary feet in a cool stream...
He suggested to remember lost comrades in battle. To scream their names at my enemies, and do what I can to make them proud of me. When I heard him, I actually began to believe Lindpen is somewhere either drawing or reading his books. I even believe he looks in on me from time to time, and I fear he has been disappointed up until now.
But that is going to change.
I have been spending more time in the swamps, (I told the mage in fort last I could get him some willow wisp essence, and I know where to get it now) and Ihave been taking advantage of this opportunity to remember and practice those lessons from Leafshadow. It is proving a difficult path to tread, replacing foolhardiness with caution, headlong charges into battle with tactics. Old habits are proving to die hard, yet I will regain the path I would have chosen years ago had I the wisdom to do so.