The Journal of Jaelle Thornwood (Part II)

[Carillon]

The day of the meeting draws very near. Elohanna received my warning and, sensibly, has taken measures to avoid the Aeridinites who are searching for her. The second urn resides in the hands of the Toranites. Elohanna confessed to me that she delivered it to the temple in Huangjin herself. I am content with how matters stand, if not pleased. Laa'ra's wishes were fulfilled and the urns are separated still. If the Aeridinites are telling the truth, then I have no doubt they will be able to recover the second urn from the Toranites and destroy them all. If they have some dark design for the urns, better that they are spread out and that another church stands between them and their goal. This may be the only time I ever confess to being grateful for the bureaucratic, uncompromising, stubborn, unreasonable fanaticism of those blasted Toranites. The noble bastards will likely protect that urn with their lives if they catch wind of anything rotten.

Muireann grows no better but for the present time she seems to grow no worse, either. She is still cold and deadly, and the house matches her now. I try to spend as little time there as possible, as I've noticed that the atmosphere sometimes makes me feel physically ill. It seems to be more proximity to the house than to Muireann herself, but I can't bring myself to leave her alone entirely. For now I limit my exposure and deal with the effects. A little nausea isn't enough to motivate me to abandon her, and I am reluctant to entirely give up the room that has become sanctuary to me over the years.

We had an interesting talk the other night, the priestess and I. She confirmed much of what I think I already knew. The planar, Bob, her “bonded”, is slowly killing her by feeding on her, and if it continues she will likely die. In the meantime, his presence fills her with negative energy and shadows the house. I expect it makes Donnachadh as sick as it makes me, though I have never spoken to him about it. As far as I can tell, she has no boarders right now, though, which is a small mercy.

I do not know why she remains bonded to it and shows it such compassion. As much as I care for Muireann, she is not a woman known for her compassion. Simply put, her devotion is disproportionate and out of character in this case. Muireann is not as bitter and unfeeling as Hardragh made her out to be, but she shows that she cares in interesting ways. I know she cares for me, though. How much is hard to say, but at least a little. She asked me about the night I came home a mess and cried for Laa'ra as I wrote the letter. I told her a little. As I expected, she did not judge me. It is the one thing I can count on Muireann for: she has and always will let me make my own decisions. If it surprised her, she didn't show it much.

In truth, sometimes I don't know what to make of her. Muireann is ... complicated. During our discussion we somehow got onto the subject of her past dalliances, and she told me about a Xeenite cleric who allowed her to whip him. She says she finds emotional release in the act of whipping. I told her again about Hedessa, the Xeenite priestess who wants to do the same to me. In my darkest moments I toy with the idea of letting her. Part of me thinks I deserve to be punished for some of the things I have done. I have tortured, killed, betrayed ... and for the most part I live without much guilt over my actions. Whatever pain Hedessa would inflict upon me, I probably deserve it. Muireann was less concerned with that and more curious about whether I thought I would enjoy it. She argued that if I thought it would bring me pleasure (pleasure through pain ... always a delightful contradiction!) that I should acquiesce and give myself to the priestess, as least to see if I liked it. And yet I already know that if I were to suffer that particular act, the hand that held the whip would never be Hedessa's.

I find this conviction difficult to explain but I am very certain. I think it has something to do with the fact she has not yet been able to catch and claim me, though she clearly wants to. Were I to submit to a lash, it would be to a worthy opponent. And I do not think she is my equal.

But Muireann is.

I asked her, actually, whether she would do it if I asked her. Passing curiosity spurred the inquiry rather than any serious contemplation, but her refusal still stung. Such refusals always sting, even when the request was merely hypothetical, and I am not a woman who is used to being refused, especially in matters of the bedroom. My good fortune in matters of appearance has seen to that. Muireann quite flatly refused, though, and I think she would even have refused to tell me why had she not seen the odd and inexplicable effect her rejection had on me. She was oddly gentle with me then, and actually made clear that in no way did she find me wanting. She never gave a truly satisfactory answer, but she did admit that she suspects that she is one of the few people I trust enough to allow that kind of interaction with. And that in the heat of the moment, she is neither merciful nor inclined to hold back, and she will not risk me. In an odd way, it was rather touching. I think it's as close as Muireann's ever come to admitting she cares for me.

[Carillon]

The meeting regarding Laa'ra has come and gone, and it might as well have been a costume party or a masquerade, for few people came as themselves! Elohanna and I were both in attendance, but due to the watchful eye of a Toranite undead slayer and an Aeridinite paladin we were wary to reveal ourselves. Elohanna came hooded, and in the same robes I had seen her in after she fled from the Aeridinites so I knew her on sight, though most others did not.

My disguise was rather better, I think. And gods above, if I hadn't been worried about Laa'ra it would actually have been fun! My control of the Al'noth was exceptional that day, and I managed to use an illusion to fool people into thinking I was an old woman. Between the illusion, a little voice acting and a good deal of luck, no one spotted me save the nosy Toranite [expletive] who used some kind of blade to “check” everyone at the meeting. Strangely, she didn't give me away, though she looked at me strangely and demanded we speak later. I rather hope she doesn't prove herself a bother later, but if she did I have something that perhaps I can blackmail her with--namely that I caught her in some kind of dalliance with the Aeridinite before the meeting started. Neither of them saw me, but I overheard enough to gather they were lovers at some time. A neat little fact to tuck away in my mind for future use, perhaps.

Turns out Shiff Dragonheart was the one who called the meeting. I should have known that tactless fool was behind this. Only he would so totally lack the subtlety and common sense that would prevent others from posting notices in public places about a meeting regarding a dangerous vampire. Thank the stars that Elohanna got to him before the meeting. If she hadn't, I think it would have been a witch hunt. As it was, most of those in attendance grew so frustrated with Shiff's disinclination towards any action against Laa'ra that they walked out. I managed to get a fairly accurate roster of those at the meeting, though.

Attendance at Shiff's Vampire Meeting

• Anne Ravenwind, Toranite undead slayer and nosy [expletive]
• Harris Lightseeker, Aeridinite. Apparently had some kind of illicit affair with the Toranite, from what I overheard. Potential for blackmail later.
• Shiff Dragonheart
• Caerwyn
• Brian
• Elohanna (in disguise)
• Aerimor Lightbringer, most irritating druid in the world
• Alatriel (for about three seconds, before she ran off to play mommy to Elohanna's children)
• Scias Maratha
• Myself, as harmless old woman

[/i]

Honestly, though the meeting dragged on for hours there is very little to report. The Aeridinite managed to figure out there was no way Laa'ra could still be a vampire, based on the accounts given by the others and the knowledge she had killed her sire. Between that and Shiff's strong advisement that no one take action against her, no one seemed the least inclined to run around with stake, silver potion and a healthy dose of fanaticism save the Toranite slayer who is clearly a little unbalanced. (Alright, more than a little. More even than most Toranites, which is saying something.)

Caerwyn provided an interesting tidbit, namely that Laa'ra's been known to use the alias of Elaidiss Nightingale, and that the term “palemaster” had come up in relation to her several times. I'm not certain why I'd never connected the two, but it's true, she does always wear a dark glove on one hand that reaches up at least above the elbow. As I understand it, palemasters have exceptional control over the necromantic aspects of the Al'Noth, so perhaps I should not be surprised.

All in all, the meeting was rather boring. Until it wasn't, that is. Someone pulled out one of Laa'ra's feathers, and a great debate started over what should be done with it. Some were in favor of scrying on her while others wanted her to be left alone. Brian tried to take the feather for himself, but they snatched it back, and finally it ended up in a brazier, burned to nothing. It is no small relief to know I now possess the only easy means to scry on Laa'ra, should it come to that.

What is the best way to extinguish a fire? Well, there are many ways, I am sure, but one of them is certainly to contain it and let it burn itself out. If any came into the room with a fire lit under their backsides and an itch to go hunting vampires, a few hours of tedious discussion certainly dampened it. It was in my best interests to listen and wait, so that is exactly what I did. It was only later, after the Toranite had stormed out in a fury and almost everyone was so bored by the bureaucracy of the meeting that they were nodding off that I eventually revealed myself--and the fate of the urns. People were surprised, naturally. Who was more surprised than I was to get the letter, or Elohanna when I handed her one of the urns in her living room? It was an unexpected action, and naturally it elicited astonishment and a little suspicion among the cynical. And yet by that point people were ready to believe she was redeemed, and agreed to forswear vengeance on her, just as she had on them. As I do not think she will act rashly, I believe Laa'ra will be safe, at least for the time being.

Safe, but dying that is. I still need to find a way to save her. I will find a way.

The only other thing of note was Brian's particular brand of drama. When he realized that Laa'ra had been gone for some time and I'd had the urns while living with him, and yet I hadn't told him and had let him believe I was still in danger, he sort of lost his grasp on himself. He went to sit in a corner and pulled out a massive dagger and started carving letters into the Toranite meeting table. Part of me really wanted to watch one of the Toranites come out and try to arrest him. Truly, he can be such a child! When he was done scratching the message into the expensive looking table he stuck his knife point first into the wood and just left it there and disappeared. I read what he wrote. I forget the specifics, but it was something like “The last role of man is always as woman's pawn.” As usual, dramatic and inaccurate. And very much Brian. Honestly, I have no patience for the man right now. If he is going to be impossible, he will be impossible on his own. I have no desire to chase after him and soothe his poor, bruised feelings. I have more important things to do.

[Carillon]

After leaving the meeting in Fort Llast I went straight to Spellgard. Originally I had planned to go with Elohanna to meet the Aeridinites, who demanded at the meeting that I turn over the second urn. I neglected to mention that last time I wrote, because honestly there was just too much going on for me to think clearly. There still is, if I make the mistake of trying to do everything. The Toranites and the Aeridinites can fight over the urns. While it's possible a small group of either might become corrupt it's basically inconceivable that both churches would agree to raise a demon. Therefore, I have simply told myself to stop worrying about that for now and to focus on other things. More important things.

As I said, I went straight to Spellgard, and met with Connor again. Anna was there as well. This time I came clean, and told them both about the urns and my concerns. There is an odd sense of relief that comes from sharing a burden and lightening one's own load. It isn't one I want to indulge in too often, as we should all have the strength to bear our own burdens, but sometimes I think it is too much for any one woman or man to handle. They both agreed to look into things with the urns and the church of Aeridin, and to ensure there was no deception and that the urns will be destroyed. They also fully supported my decision to remove the second urn from the Aeridinite temple when I had suspicions, misguided though those suspicions likely were. It was strangely comforting to hear that Connor agreed with my actions, and thought I had done the right thing. I am surprised to discover that his opinion matters to me.

I am also very glad I asked for his help, for it seems he has brought me some news that engenders at least a small amount of hope within me. It is possible that a colleague of his might be able to find a cure, or at least better direct us how to search for one. The only problem is that to assess where Laa'ra is exactly in her transformation from undead to mortal again, and to determine what is making her ill, Connor's colleague requires a blood sample. Which means finding Laa'ra.

This small flicker of hope seems impossibly dim against the overwhelming odds we have been presented with. I fear that if Laa'ra does not want to be found, there is nothing I will be able to do to locate her. Her control of the Al'Noth far exceeds mine, as she has left me few clues as to where she has gone. I cling to the hope that by “homeland” she means the city she was residing in when she registered as a student in Spellgard, for I have little else to go on. I will start my search in Fort of Kings, Alindor, and continue from there until all hope fades.

I am not certain whether she intended this or whether it was merely an unforeseen consequence of giving me the feather and her necklace, but Laa'ra has provided me with the means to scry on her. Connor has agreed to show me the rudiments of the art before I leave for Alindor, and hopefully the length of the journey will give me some time to practice. He warns me that it is very difficult to learn at first, and requires a degree of focus and concentration to locate the target, as well as to protect oneself if the target senses the effort and tries to resist. He has made it clear that it will take a few days to show me enough of this particular kind of divination for me to have a decent chance of doing more good than harm in any scrying attempt so I have taken lodgings at a small inn in this city. I have stayed here many times before when studying with Aryell and Elmater, and have always found the accommodations to be  clean, comfortable and entirely adequate. Most of the patrons are students or visitors to the city on magical business, and the atmosphere is conducive to study. I would have preferred to begin lessons immediately, and I think Connor knows this, but one look at the dark circles under my eyes and he sent me to rest. I suppose he has a point. There is little that can be taught to a student whose mind and senses are dulled by overwhelming exhaustion. We will begin in the morning, and see how quickly I might make something out of this art.

[Carillon]

For several days now, Connor has been teaching me how to scry. It is exhausting, mentally if not physically, for divination has never come easily to me before and it is not a facet of the Al'Noth that I have studied extensively up until now.

At first, he lectured me on the theoretical aspects of scrying. Many factors in addition to the talent and skill of the diviner can affect the outcome of a scrying attempt, it seems. One of the most important of these is the possession of a scrying focus. Most frequently this focus is something that is part of the person, place or object being scryed upon. It seems this is why Laa'ra's feathers are such powerful scrying tools; they were a part of her body, and retain some connection with her. Although we did not discuss scrying on areas in great detail, I believe soil from a forest floor or a rock from a canyon would work as scrying focuses when scrying on a region. Of course, it is still possible to scry on something without a focus directly from them. In these cases, an object that was with the person for an extended period of time may work just as well as hair or blood, and such objects often have the advantage of not being consumed in the scrying process. Laa'ra's amulet falls under this category of scrying focus, and is what we intend to use. Of course, practiced and talented diviners need not rely on a scrying focus at all, but working without one requires far greater effort and concentration, and is unfortunately beyond my capabilities at the moment.

There are other factors that influence the difficulty of a scrying ritual too, naturally. Connor has taught me both the most ideal methods and those shortcuts that one might be forced to take in a pinch. Ideally, one should use a proper divining pool filled with holy water as a scrying medium. Sprinkling the waters with diamond dust yields the best results, though limited effects may be achieved with alexandrite, and scrying without gem dusts at all is possible too if the situation is dire and none can be found. Like organic components, gem dusts are usually consumed or rendered useless in the process, but the holy water of the pool is capable of enduring multiple uses.

Of course, every detail of the ritual that deviates from ideal also greatly increases the effort needed to achieve the results. Furthermore, the amount of energy I need to pour into each ritualistic attempt at my level of experience means that I am left vulnerable during the scrying process and drained afterwards. Distance also plays a factor in difficulty, and as an amateur my range will likely be much more limited than someone with even passing competence. Connor has stressed several times the danger of scrying on a caster who is capable of detecting and countering a scrying attempt, and I sense he wonders whether Laa'ra will permit such a violation of her privacy, even from me.

After Connor explained the theory of the process to me, he drilled me again and again on the practical aspects of it. At first we attempted to scry a nearby area. There is a beach just out of town that I enjoy walking on sometimes, and we chose that as my first target. Tired does not begin to describe my state after only a short period of this. I am greatly surprised by the level of mental fortitude required to accomplish something like this, and it was tempting to become disheartened, especially at first when it seemed as if all my efforts were in vain and I saw nothing at all. Connor insisted that I keep at it though, forcing me to try again and again. Eventually I collapsed with exhaustion, and we took a break and a meal while I recovered. After the meal, we resumed our work, again and again. Each time he pushed me to the brink of exhaustion, but in the end I believe the persistence yielded some results at least, and I was able to successfully scry on the beach, though I was dissatisfied by the quality of the image, which was blurrier and less detailed than I had hoped. According to Connor this is a symptom of my inexperience, and once I am able to gain more skill in this aspect of divination  the images will likely sharpen.

As difficult as scrying on that piece of shoreline was, learning to scry on a more distant place was infinitely harder. At first I thought to try the Spirit Dunes. I had a little sand from the region in my pack, but I could think of nothing specific about the Dunes and I thought perhaps the lack of specificity might hinder my progress, so when Connor asked me for a region I chose the Gnoll Watchtower in the Ire Mountains instead. Although it is within a few days' travel of Spellgard, it was far harder than scrying on the little beach just outside town. Again, Connor pushed me hard, driving me onwards, and again we persisted, despite the difficulty. I went to bed with a throbbing headache that night, and I do not recall what I saw in reverie, so profound was my rest.

We worked all the next day too. He would coax me right to my limit, and only when I was too drained to continue would he let me rest. Betimes I wanted to scream at him and storm out and give up, but then I would think of Laa'ra dying alone and find new resolve. By the end of the second day--or was it really the third? My exhaustion made them all blur together--Connor finally declared that my mediocre results would suffice and that we would move on to scrying on specific people the next day. Well, he didn't say it exactly like that ... I think. To be honest, I really can't recall his precise words. All I remember is relief that we would finally be learning what I might so desperately need to know to find Laa'ra.

We made an early start the next morning, once again. First, Connor explained to me the theory behind using a scrying focus. It is difficult to put to words, but as near as I can describe it involves concentrating on the object and getting the feel for the person, or what Connor called the “imprint” of the subject. After that, it is merely a matter of “asking” the divination magic to help you find the person. If one knows their general location, it is usually advised to try narrowing the search at this point as well, though experienced diviners are able to search over far greater areas than amateurs. As Connor put it, an expert diviner, or even merely a talented one who has had enough practice and possesses a good focus, can find the proverbial needle in the haystack.

After he was quite certain I understood the aim and the method, Connor suggested I try it myself. He asked if I had something that we could use as a scrying focus, and I was startled to realize that I don't really have many personal objects from other people. After a lengthy search through my pack and some debate, we finally settled on a suitable one, and the rest of the day was consumed by mind-breaking practice. I swear to the gods, my head felt numb every time he called for a break. We worked mostly on scrying on people I was familiar with, because Connor says the familiarity makes searching for them with the divination magic much easier. However, Connor is nothing if not thorough in his teaching, and he also showed me how to scry on a person I was less familiar with or a stranger.

Although I am still woefully underprepared, time runs short and Laa'ra's chances lessen every day. For all I know, she could be dead or on her deathbed already. Although part of me would like nothing more than to stay in Spellgard and study and practice this until I could do it without failure, I know it is time to go. I was lucky enough to book passage on a ship making a fairly direct route and I will pray for speed and fair winds. I still worry, though. What if she is not in Fort of Kings? My range is limited, and Connor suggested I get as close as possible before attempting to scry. That and he strongly cautioned me that I will be vulnerable to any backlash or resistance if I scry on her without someone to support and protect me.

In the end, I suppose it comes down to trust. Laa'ra trusted me with the urns, with her necklace, with her feathers ... and though I wanted to believe those were genuine attempts at friendship and goodness, I was suspicious. She has never hurt me and claims to love me. I do not want to invade her privacy, but certainly that is a small cost when compared with the death she inevitably faces if I do nothing? I will practice every day on the journey to hone my abilities, but I will not use them if I can find another way. And if I am forced to scry ... well I hope she loves me enough to forgive the intrusion, and that she does not break my mind in retaliation while I am vulnerable. Once again, I am running short of options.