Ael'Rynth d'lil Maethra - Vanguard of Darkness

[Yllyrryon]

//Herein is the tale of Ael Rynthien, borne of darkness, a child of the Eternal Night; sold into slavery at the mercy of fiends; and saved therefrom by followers of the Redemptress and The All-seeing, Lord Protector.  Which path will he follow?  Will he return to the Darkness from whence he came?  Or will he rise to follow the paths treaded by those who sought to save him?//

[Yllyrryon]

//For now, you may find Ael Rynthien’s bio here:

http://www.layonaraonline.com/forums/forums/thread-view.asp?tid=14763&posts=2

-----------------------------------------  

When he first arrived in Hlint, Ael aspired to assist in the promulgation and enforcement of the laws given by his former god, Rofirein.  Thus he had spent time learning to be a scribe; at that time his penmanship was well above average, though not of the highest quality.  

He strives daily to improve this skill, almost to the point of obsession.  The following describes the appearance of his journal::/

*The journal itself is a book whose covers appear laminated with shiny obsidian of darkest hue; a small crest of finest ruby is in the center of the front cover - the crest is an intricate depiction of a dragon spewing forth from its fearsome maw a deluge of flame; tiny, delicate script within the flame spells out his family’s name in High Drow: d’lil Maethra, which means, “of the Dragon” in common.  Within this strangely fascinating tome, Ael's writings appear as follows:

Inscribed on modest parchment in flowingly graceful, yet austere calligraphy of above-average quality, all written in the language of the Drow*

Dead Eye, the Eleventh Day of Winter Night, the Year 1378, of This, the Third Generation of Layonara.

A worthy aspiration?

Throughout my life, I have tried to learn as much as possible about my people, the Drow, and our homeland, the Eternal Night, which many call the Underdark.  Although I have learned very little over the eighty two years I have passed on Mistone continent, I remain undaunted.  That which I have learned, I obtained mostly through word of mouth from friends of Master Trolathar; yes, even the libraries of our temples (those of my Lord Protector, Rofirein), contained precious little about that strange, alluring place beneath the surface - a place that has always called me to return.

Yet I am greatly encouraged at the number of Dark Elves I have found walking the surface near the hamlet of Hlint.  And most of these seem to walk in the light of goodness, honesty, and justice - many of them worshipers of the Redemptress.

Despite the maelstrom of darkness within my mind, with which I must toil daily, I have always believed that we, the Drow, have within us the power to overcome the evil that has been etched upon our hearts by our ill fated past.  And these surface dwelling refugees strengthen this hope.  So much so that I will now voice an aspiration that once I regarded as a mere foolish dream.

I now believe that it will be possible to begin to retake our homeland, and to bring light to places that have known only darkness.  Yes.  I see a new society of Dark Elves who walk in the Light - slowly, methodically, yet irresistibly establishing a foothold in the Underdark.  This would be near the surface.  We would find an entrance to the Realm Below and first  thoroughly cleanse the surrounding lands, bringing order and justice to them.  There, in the center of those redeemed surface lands, we will establish a stronghold and a city.  Doubtless we will have to rely on the elves and men, and yes, perhaps even the a few of the dwarves.  But the prospects of added stability, prosperity, and harmony should bring many to our cause one day.  Yes, indeed, I can see all races joining with us in this endeavor - especially if we (and here I speak of "we" as followers of Rofirein) succeed in unifying them in the coming wars against Blood.

Slowly, yet surely, we, the surface Drow and our allies, would work our way downwards, claiming the Eternal Night for our new race.  Our families and loved ones.....what would we come to call ourselves?..... would remain behind in the surface stronghold.  Front-line forts would be established just beneath the surface.   If it took us fifty years to move downwards but a half mile, then so be it....so be it....

Ah, you dreamer, Ael...still a dream.  Much must be done and other priorities trump these lofty designs - the first and foremost being efforts to unify the righteous against the threat of Blood.  Long have I heard my mentors in our temples and monasteries discuss this grave matter.

Sleep comes...ah...would that I never sleep....may Rofirein give me wisdom and courage as I struggle through the darkness of the nightmares I will face this eve.

[Yllyrryon]

*inscribed on modest parchment in flowingly graceful, yet austere calligraphy of above-average quality in the language of the Drow*

Nights’ Eye, the First Day of Spring’s Dawning, the Year 1378, of This the Third Generation of Layonara

The Congregation of the Faithful; Lessons learned from Hasty Plans

I was able to attend the Congregation of the Faithful, held in Hlint Courthouse a few days ago at the summons of Tarradon Duvall, a paladin of our faith.

Only seven or eight souls attended, to Tarradon’s dismay.

We covered much ground, too much to detail in the short time I have this eve.  I offered to assist our effort by gathering information, even spying if necessary.  Tarradon accepted my offer, yet gave me no specific instructions.

I learned much at the meeting.  But also I have several concerns about this well intended movement.  First, we still lack unity, despite our efforts.  Second, we do not command the attention of the masses which we seek to defend.  As the elven female,  Parvin pointed out, we must secure cooperation from those many who follow no particular religion.  Third, after two meetings of our movement, we lack specific plans.

In our misguided zeal, Parvin and I took matters into our own hands, helping to organize two separate expeditions, the first was to search out the metallic that has appeared in the dreams of many new to these lands - giving counsel to those in whose dreams he appears.  This ended in failure, which I will have to detail later.  The second fellowship was larger and very mighty, organized to salvage remnants of the first ill fated journey.

During the latter expedition, it dawned on me that perhaps this metallic who has appeared in the dreams of so many, myself included, was in fact The All-Seeing, Rofirein himself!  Or even some avatar of his.  I shared this with Parvin and my colleagues, but they did not react to this insight.

From our recent failures, I did learn a few important things.  One of which is that although we must act, but we must plan carefully and not ever again act out of zeal or passion.  Cold calculation and sound strategy must be the basis of any action.

Also - the rapid formation of the second expedition indicated to me that there is much potential for forming powerful companies in the future.  Had we more wisely directed our efforts, much could have been gained.

Two closing ideas, which I will submit to Tarradon.  First, I see the need for our own intelligence-gathering network.  As I am accustomed to moving in stealth, I would like to help organize this.  Yet we would have to adhere to standards of honor and right worthy of our Lord Rofirein in any covert endeavor.

Secondly, in the coming weeks, I will work with Parvin, Tarradon, and Kaizer to organize an expedition as a preliminary strike against Blood’s forces.  This needs to be based on sound intelligence.  We need not achieve devastating results, but if we could strike some vital target, and then vanish as quickly as we appeared - it could force our enemy to proceed more slowly, in caution, thus buying us needed time.  Yet this is subject to what I just wrote about prudence.  We will need to get information on where to strike; and there are other important considerations.  Yet I am inspired by how quickly such power can be marshalled, and this, so early in our efforts.

On another note, why does Parvin occupy my thoughts so much?  I do have an incredible amount of respect for her uncanny wisdom.  I shall examine this distraction in my reflections during the coming days.

Now Duty calls me elsewhere.  To meditation and prayer.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dead Eye, the Second Day of Spring’s Dawning, the Year 1378, of This the Third Generation of Layonara

After finishing writing in this journal yesterday, I spent the rest of the night in prayer and meditation, sitting by the top of the falls coming down from a bluff in the center of Fort Hope.  I had entered such a deep state of meditation that I did not notice the sun’s rising, which, despite my having lived on the surface for some eighty years, is still always disorienting and painful, at best.  Mid-morn, I broke from meditation and prayer to practice my forms for a couple of hours; then after a small meal, back to meditation, which I continued past sunset.  I will take a moment, here, to write this entry by the moon’s light, before I journey north, to Hlint.

Many insights have come in the course of this past day’s vigil.  I have ascertained the root causes of my costly mistakes of the previous day, and they are twofold.  They were first, spiritual pride, and secondly, a subtle, venomous lust for power.  As to the former, I have learned much in the nearly two months following Master Trolathar’s departure.  I have received wisdom beyond any expectation I could have fathomed.  Yet I failed to perceive that this was only a beginning, and a very small start at that.  So having become overly confident in my wisdom, I helped lead an expedition, lacking a clear plan and trusting instead on what I thought was a reliable sense of intuition.  Suffice it to say that my intuition failed me and both expeditions failed miserably.  

Now to the latter cause of my recent failure, lust for power.  I am grateful that the All-Seeing has gently and mercifully granted me this insight, as I have been hitherto completely unaware of this new force playing through my inner life.  I feel this is connected somehow to a sense of helplessness I have so often experienced throughout this life.  And as I grow in ability, strength, and influence, I begin to feel a craving for invincibility and the power required to reach such a state.  Yet I hope to work skillfully with this driving force.  And as Master Trolathar has taught me, in identifying and acknowledging the existence of a vice or unskillful attitude, we are well on our way to mastering it.

Indeed, so much work remains to be done, and I shall not shirk from it, nor shall I slacken in my resolve to move e’er toward enlightenment, along the path of law as defined by the Lord Protector, himself.  And Rofirein, in his infinite and unfathomable wisdom, has given me a second chance; I hope not to test his patience and mercy in the future.

Other reflections before I depart for Hlint.  As to the feelings I have experienced involving the elven female, Parvin, I have perceived them to be a subtle, intangible sense of remorse, of guilt, as if I wronged her in some way long ago.  Strange...as I have met her only recently.  I shall examine these emotions further, hopefully deriving more insights, before questioning her.  But as I, myself could not have ever injured her, then what is the source of harm, and what can be done about it?

Time grows very short, but here I shall inscribe some important thoughts that have come to me from my reflections on a dark dream I recently had.  The nightmare came to me as I slept in the travelers’ camp west of Hlint, a mere five days previous.  Stark images from my childhood, cascading before me and drawing me into their darkness as if I were reliving those terrible years.  I lack both the time and the desire to recount it fully here, but my reflecting upon those fell images has borne fruit, despite my initial hesitation to do so.  At last, I have recalled my family’s name, which, in the terror of the fall of our house, the aftermath thereof, and the months spent enslaved to fiends, had been purged from my mind.  My family was called d'lil Maethra, which, in common tongue, means “Of the Dragon”.  Knowing this makes me feel more complete, somehow.  And so, I am Ael Rynthien d'lil Maethra.  Yet why does this matter so?  And why did we bare such a name?  Much to contemplate...

Shorty I shall return with my many questions on my orgins to that vast library I chanced across.  Although nearly all of the writings were in Elven, they had an extensive section on the history of the drow.  It will be interesting to read that history, as told from the eyes of the Surface Elves.

And now, it is off to Hlint...may all that I do and say in the coming days, glorify and serve my Lord Protector, Rofirein.

[Yllyrryon]

*inscribed on modest parchment in flowingly graceful, yet austere calligraphy in the language of the Drow*

Dream Dance, the Tenth Day of Spring Dawning, the Year 1378, of This the Third Generation of Layonara

With each tidbit of information I glean regarding my life before the fall of my house, this yearning to learn more burns all the brighter.  

But why?  That chapter of my past is closed to me.  Or is it?  And yet how in my right mind would I ever want to return to that insanity?  Food for thought and reflection; many more questions arise out of each one answered.

Although recently, I recalled my family’s name through a dream, the meaning of my first name has always defied interpretation.  Yet just yesterday, in the Great Library, I chanced across a small tome that shed some light on this question.  In it was a rudimentary, introductory treatment of translating archaic drow manuscripts.  The passages written in common were themselves difficult, as the manual was written by a mage for those who sought to study special spells originating from my race and homeland.

Yet I managed to identify stems, fragments, and related terms that suggested “Ael” pertained to heat, embers, or fire.  And “Rynthien” was related somehow to rituals of some ancient sect; those rites involved cleansing.

I reflected on all of these elements for hours.  I lost track of time, as I often do - I must have been mulling over this puzzle for some twenty hours at least.  Only after I had the solution in sight did I realize that my body was trembling from hunger and thirst, and aching from having remained in the same spot and position for so long.

But my research and deep reflection yielded fruit!  To wit, “Ael Rynthien” can be fairly translated to modern common as “Purifying Fire” - thus rendering Ael Rynthien d'lil Maethra as “Purifying Fire of the Dragon”.

I had recalled from another of those vivid dreams that it was my mother who had named my siblings and me, as she was by far more powerful than my father.  Her will was that of the House.  And by those same recollections, I believe she served Vierdri’ira.  I say this, because why would the figure of some dragon be so prominent in our name, especially when I cannot remember any figurines, statues, or crests with any dragon in them?

Confusion is something that can unsettle the untrained mind.  But it is just part of the process of bringing more of our lives and world in which we live to the light of knowledge, all for the sake of cultivating greater wisdom.

One day, I will have all the answers I seek.

[Yllyrryon]

Dream Dance, the Twenty First Day of Summer Run, the Year 1378, of This the Third Generation of Layonara

Long have I neglected my journal.  

Although I am weary at the end of a long day’s toil, I will begin, once again, this eve.

Earlier this week, I was blessed in hearing a young and inspiring drow bard recount a legend of love and sacrifice among three loyal friends.  They stood together unto death in the face of impossible odds against great evil.  This lead me to reflect on the following proverb, as Master Trolathar taught me:

Goodness and Righteousness, even though They may be temporarily defeated, are ever the more the stronger than evil triumphant.

I have nothing further to say in this regard, other than that time spent at the Wild Surge, together with such good company, was very memorable.  And a fine tale sparking fond recollections of my former Master.  Aye - twas truly a time, indeed.

Yet of late, much confusion has lingered in my mind.  I begin to fathom its source and nature.  But even as answers appear to take form, they vanish before me as if they were smoke, blown in the breeze of a warm spring’s eve.

I dare not even utter the single word I believe may define these fires that burn within.  Nay, lest I overlook some crucial subtlety that would otherwise never surface.

So long as I hold true to my belief in the teachings that I have received, then shall wisdom come, and insight.  And the path shall stand revealed.

Tonight, my mind wanders.  It is truly fortunate that only mine eyes shall ever see these pages, as any other would easily be lost.  And all the more so when I thus indulge my errant thoughts.

Ten days previous, I had the good fortune to wander Dregar with an elven druidess, Luna Moonchaser.   A friend of hers joined us, a gnome mage named Giddo.  He lead us on a tour through the Forest of Mists, to a hidden shrine of the god, Folian.  Rarely, if ever, have I seen such a splendor of the surface world.  The three of us rejoiced and reveled in the beautiful hidden grove surrounding the shrine.  A wonderful sparkling stream wound its way through the grove, shimmering in the summer’s light as if each drop of water in it were a priceless gem.  It twisted and curved its path to a falls most beautiful, and disappeared into a deep chasm below, dark and mysterious.

And yet while my friends continued at their play, I was drawn to this vast fissure, leading, as it seemed, to the very heart of the earth.  Close to the edge I crawled, trying to peer ever deeper into the captivating darkness below.  And as I remained there, faintly from the depths there arose a musical voice, like that of an elven maiden, most pure.  It was beautiful, yet cruel, drawing me ever closer to the edge, and beyond, if possible.  I could not make it out, what it was saying.  Yet it continued to beckon.  If only I could go just a tad bit further, then I could fully ascertain what only I was meant to hear.  So drawn into the voice’s beautiful, yet deadly web had I become, I lost track of all else.  

Yet Luna intervened, and saved me.  I was most fortunate.  She did not realize what she had done.  With ease, she had sneaked up behind me, and in the instant before I would have most likely fallen, she grabbed me around my waist and pulled me backwards, yelling, “Don’t fall!!!”  And again, her actions were entirely in jest.

Giddo fell over laughing at the sight of a wide-eyed drow, arms flailing, being hauled backwards from a pit by a laughing elven maiden.  And so, the mysterious spell was broken, as I re-joined my friends' mirth.  

Only after reflecting upon those wonderful moments, some of them deadly, did I get a stronger sense of what had happened.  Yet again, I shall refrain from judging or interpreting.  Perhaps I will never know what really happened that day.  Over time, patient reflection will reveal to me that which I need to know.

I’ll close this night with a proverb I, myself, recently coined.  Again, my mind is wandering, but the proverb itself is somewhat apt to the preceding:

The Past is as open to Interpretation
As is the Future to Possibility.
Such is the nature of the Great Illusion.

[Yllyrryon]

*inscribed on modest parchment in flowingly graceful, yet austere calligraphy in the common language of the Drow*

Night’s Eye, the Twenty Sixth Day of Summer Run, the Year 1378, of This the Third Generation of Layonara

As Master Trolathar taught:

Nothing in the heavens or the hells,
in our realm or elsewhere,
can prevent the progress of
he who has awakened to the illusion,
and who has heard, even if only once,
the clarion call of his own soul.

I take much heart in this.  For indeed, I have awakened, yet I have stumbled many times of late.  The darkness of my nightmares is yet again spilling over into conscious thought, and into my meditations and reflections.  And so I must fight once again on inner battlefields I had thought were long since taken.

Doubtless these shadows plaguing my mind arise in part from the plight of Our Lord Protector.  Communion with him has grown faint, prayer often seems fruitless, and so many times I feel as if I am stumbling blinded and alone, in a vast spiritual darkness.

Yet already I know that in the darkest hour, there is but one course to follow: to ride forth and meet the Enemy head on.  

I, alone, know what this means for me, for what path I must follow, at least for now.  And I shall keep this insight close to my heart, as speaking it would only detract from the purity and intensity of focus I will need from this moment on.

Another note.  Preparations are nearly complete for an expedition seeking to retrieve lost relics from ruined temples of Az’atta.  Kayla Warcrest will lead us in this effort.  Our primary duty will be to retrieve these artifacts and return them to the temple in Saudiria.  Yet I desire to investigate further into the sacking of these holy sites.  Who, specifically, committed this sacrilege?  Here, more than anywhere else, justice screams out for retribution.  And if not checked now, then the same infidels who brought ruin to the others will doubtless, in time, descend upon the shrine in Saudiria.  There is only one way to avert this fate, and that is to bring those who threaten us to a deeper insight into the meaning of pain.  They would understand nothing else.

[Yllyrryon]

Scorching light from the relentless desert sun tore into Ael’s jet-black skin and burned his eyes, making them feel like two blazing charcoals embedded in his skull.  A bitter mixture of blood, sweat, and sand flowed freely down Ael’s forehead and into his eyes, blinding him further, and adding a measure of stinging pain to all that he already felt from the sunlight, and from the wounds and bruises throughout his body. He lay where he had been thrown, belly-down in the sand.  Although the fight was nearly lost, and would most likely end in his own death, he struggled to regain his feet, to meet the onslaught he knew would follow in less than an instant.  He had just pulled his elbows under his chest when his foe was there, immediately before him.   Yet with his greatly diminished sight, he could barely see the finely intricate patterns etched upon the metal boots of the one who would now kill him.

“So +this+ is how it ends”, Ael mused to himself, exhaling with a thin, ironic smile.  He  remained in the position he had assumed.  Although he longed to die while fighting actively, cut down in a last attempt to strike his enemy, his body would go no further.  Even now, consciousness was slipping from him, as a grey curtain descended from above over his field of vision, pulling his mind into a soothing limbo of emptiness.

Yet the voice of his enemy rang out clearly in Deep Drow: “You have been warned!”  Ael glided further towards death.

Then images, thoughts, and sensations cascaded before him rapidly  - of an exquisitely beautiful and elegant young drow female, dressed always in white,  who he would never see again, or so it seemed; of the sound of Marainna sobbing over the body of her own fallen lover; of feelings of helplessness and  frustration as he looked about a ruined sanctuary, his gaze falling to an engraved token of a spider, held out before him by one of his friends; of his friend, Kayla’s dead body, lying somewhere nearby; of a sense of having failed Kayla, despite having given everything, even his life, to her cause; and then of a Voice, seemingly unknown yet hauntingly familiar, addressing him in the language of Deep Drow, “Failure is death; and death, failure.”  It’s tone was smooth, alluring and caressing, yet filled with pure malice.

Ael gasped, opening wide his eyes as his body convulsed on a familiar stone floor; he was lying in a pool of his own blood.  A sweet and seductive smell permeated the air about him.  Awareness of pain from many terrible wounds and bruises slammed into his mind as his eyes were drawn to the feet of his enemy, standing before him once again in near darkness.  Bewildered, he blinked as his eyes finally focused in the faint light, not on engraved metal boots, but on a pair of ornately engraved and bejeweled ankle bracelets adorning perfectly formed ankles; the skin was jet-black; and the dainty feet were in a pair of exquisitely crafted sandals.

Yet who?  Confusion and disorientation arose with understanding as Ael gazed upward from where he was lying.  This was no enemy.  She who stood before him was his mother, Vress’lvel, the one hundred twenty third matron of House d’lil Maethra.

Abruptly, she turned and walked away from him, and up a short dais to sit upon a throne, elaborately carved from a single huge ruby.  From deeply within, the jewel-throne  glowed with a light that seemed to pulse with the heart beat of she who sat within its embrace - its hue exactly matching the blood-crimson color of her eyes.

“Wh...wha..?”  Ael sputtered in Deep Drow, struggling in vain to get to his feet as he  looked up into his mother’s eyes, which were much like his own.  Yet hers were ice cold and demonically cruel, although beautiful.

“Silence!!!”  As another familiar voice rang out from behind him, Ael frowned with recognition.  It was one of his elder sisters, Vrin’klatu, doubtless the one who had administered the punishment from which he presently suffered.  Gritting his teeth, he refused to acknowledge her presence in the least, focusing all the more intently on his mother.

For less than an instant, a complex medley of emotion played across Vress’lvel’s face; Ael noted it well.  Clearly, she was incensed with her son; and clearly, she wanted to move on to more important matters; yet most clearly, she drank deeply of Ael’s suffering, as this pleased her, compensating somewhat for his recent failure.   Then she spoke once again.  “Now at last, my son, if you have learned this lesson well, we will no longer have to repeat such exercises.”

Yet for the best of him, Ael could not remember what he had done, or rather, had failed to achieve.

Again he tried to rise, slipping in his own blood.  Then his strength failed him, as  he was lingering at death’s door.  The now familiar grey curtain began to fall; Ael welcomed its embrace, an escape from this hellish vision.  As the nightmare scene faded, he could barely hear Vrin’klatu uttering the words of healing spells that would bring him back to his mother’s service, back to slavery to House d’lil Maethra.

He came to, scowling bitterly as he unsteadily rose to his feet before the one who had healed him.  Cold.  Empty.  Alone.  These were all that he felt in that moment.  Mustering his will and gathering his hatred, he focused all of his animosity into a death-cold glare into his sister’s blood-crimson eyes....no.  What?  Eyes of emerald green, fair skin and locks of sandy red hair beneath a hood; a look of compassion?

The elven healer gasped at the drow’s reaction, looking to the others she had just raised and healed for clarification and encouragement.  Had they not directed her to assist this one?  Or had she erred, raising one of the others?  She gathered all of her courage and forced her eyes back to those of the drow standing before her.  Confusion and regret were all that remained in those eyes.  With a sad smile, she drew forth from her pack a small bottle of herbal elixir and a packet of lightly wafered bread, handing them to Ael.  “Here...these will help you regain your strength and focus.”

Slowly, cautiously, he took them, forcing a grateful smile.  “My thanks,” he said quietly, never taking his eyes away from hers.

She faltered a bit, looking to make sure Ael had the food and drink in hand.  Then she abruptly turned away from him and walked towards Kayla, who had appeared to be the leader of this group the healer had recently stumbled across.  “I will take word of what befell you and your friends back to my temple, in Spellgard.  We must spread warning of those Caduzites that ambushed you here!”  Then after Kayla had thanked her, and after exchanging farewells, the elf departed towards the north.

“We must hasten to Port Hampshire!”  Kayla’s determined voice gave Ael a small measure of comfort and direction as he sat finishing the bread and drink the healer had given him.  Donning his robes and pulling his hood over his head, he followed the others towards the southeast.  A lengthy trek across the Blood Desert was still before them.

Fortunately for all of them, the remainder of the journey proved uneventful.  Yet Ael kept a distance from the others, lost in deep reflection all the while.  His friends noticed his brooding, yet respected his apparent desire for solitude.  At last, under a starry-clear sky, lit by an enormous full moon just above the horizon, the group saw the walls of Port Hampshire to the west.

The others rejoiced at the lovely and welcomed sight, increasing their pace toward their destination.  Lost in their happy thoughts, with hopes of rest and some small measure of revelry, none of them noticed that one of their number lagged far behind.  Ael remained ambivalent, detached, walking ahead as if a thousand miles yet remained in his journey.  


And so a mysterious, dark, hooded and robed figure walked alone through the moonlit night towards the port.  Slowly, deliberately - step after step, it moved as if walking in rhythm with some silent chant.  From beneath the hood, two points of blood-red crimson pulsed with a brooding anger, as it repeated quietly to itself in an alien tongue, over and over again in sync with its movements, a mantra that only few could understand, let alone fathom: “Failure is Death, and Death, Failure.”

[Yllyrryon]

*inscribed on modest parchment in flowingly graceful, yet austere calligraphy in the common language of the Drow*

World Tree, the Thirteenth Day of Summer End, the Year 1378, of This the Third Generation of Layonara

Recently, I unearthed a manual, written by an ancient warrior from an age long past.  Its pages contain great wisdom.  And my finding the tome was indeed timely, as just yesterday, I used the principles from one of its proverbs to overcome a beast much more powerful than myself.   The teaching was:

Even the most powerful being
Has a limited sphere of strength.
Draw him outside of that sphere
And into your own, and his strength will dissipate.

Yet even this principle has its limits, as many beings have sufficient power to annihilate me, even though their power may be dimished in accordance with this wisdom.

And so in the coming months, I shall reflect upon this jewel, and the others contained within the ancient tome, until I entirely fathom their spirit and meaning, that I may become one with them and fully master their power.

[Yllyrryon]

*inscribed on modest parchment in flowingly graceful, yet austere calligraphy in the common language of the Drow*

Bright Eye, the Twenty Ninth Day of Summer End, the Year 1378, of This the Third Generation of Layonara

Already, I know that I am hunted, but now, it appears that more than one faction seeks me out, and I know not why.  Yet it appears that one of them are a group of surfacers.  Dark and confusing times, indeed.  I feel as if I have returned to my homeland, not knowing who or what lies in wait around the next corner.

Yet could I fathom a way to use one group of foes against the other,  confusing them whilst eluding them, that I might learn more of these enemies?  Perhaps even drawing them into direct conflict with each other?  We shall see...

From years of relative security, here on the surface amongst my brothers and sisters in faith, I had grown foolishly complacent and naive (even though I thought otherwise), assuming an unguarded attitude that would have guaranteed my death in the Eternal Night.  Thankfully, I have been awakened from that slumber without too great a cost.

Only as long as I keep the proper focus, with my mind ever in the present, ever on the edge of readiness...only this way will I prevail.  There is no other way.

*here, he has drawn an intricate, highly detailed portrait of an alluringly beautiful female drow in dark robes standing before a background of a starry sky that reflects off tranquil waters*

Sahala....who is she?  And what does she want?   Why do I so much long to believe one whom I met only this past eve?  I would be a fool to blindly fall into her web.  Nay, she will have to earn my trust.  Yet I would be as much of a fool to turn away, in the least, such a powerful ally, and possibly, friend, and perhaps, so much more.

Her coming into my life is both a blessing and a curse, as I had just brought into balance the tumult within my heart that Alantha had stirred.  Much to contemplate, indeed...

And so, I shall guard and closely watch these strange subtle forces Sahala has set in motion in my life.  Which shall I nurture?  Which shall I ignore?  The path will become clear in due time, as it always has.

[Yllyrryon]

*inscribed on modest parchment in flowingly graceful, yet austere calligraphy in the common language of the Drow*

World Tree, the Third Day of Autumn Harvest, the Year 1378, of This the Third Generation of Layonara

Kayla Warcrest.

*here, Ael has drawn a detailed portrait of a female drow in dark armor, wielding a dai-katana; the background is the facade of the Temple of Az’atta in Saudiria*

Recently, with each passing day, my thoughts return all the more to Kayla and a duty she and I had assumed together.  

The last I saw Kayla was at the Crimson Eagles’ Monument in Port Hampshire, over a month ago, after we had arrived there from the Blood Desert.  We were both weary from the trek through the desert and from recent trials.  As we parted, she spoke vaguely about questions she needed answered before we proceeded further.
               
As Kayla is an adept and cunning warrior, her absence had not concerned me until recently.   She is very independent.  And she has always seemed to be strongly concerned about the welfare of her comrades; so much so, that I have known her to face grave challenges alone so as not to risk the lives of others.  And so my guess is that she has gone off alone and done something of this sort.

Not only am I concerned about Kayla, but also about the duty which I assumed in joining her expedition.  I undertook to help recover holy relics from Az’atta’s temples that had been destroyed over recent years, and to return all that we could find to the temple in Saudiria.   Before our expedition set out from the camp west of Hlint, Kayla lead us in praying to Az’atta.  At that time, silently, in my heart, I vowed to the Redemptress that I would see this work done.

And that I shall do.  My hope is that in fulfilling this duty, I shall also find Kayla, or clues leading to her whereabouts.

The Ca’Duzites oppose me in this endeavor; this I know.  When I last spoke with Kayla, we discussed the urgency of the matter.  It appeared likely that we were in a race against a group of them who were trying to steal the very relics we sought.  Already, they had beaten us to one site, stealing the holy icon there placed and desecrating the sanctuary in which it was housed.

I have scarce time this eve for further writing my thoughts here, as I must be off for a gathering of the faithful.  Yet I shall inscribe some considerations for future reference.  

Even though on more than one occasion I had asked Kayla for the locations of the sites we were to visit, she dismissed any of such questions in one way or another.  Whatever her motives were, her choice has crippled our efforts.  I know that she obtained her list of sites and their locations from Ozy. *he sighs as he writes* So it appears I will have to approach that fiendish bard to get as much of this information as I can, though I do not relish the thought of having to do so.  My elder brother in faith was indeed wise, in that he foretold that sooner or later, I would have to deal directly with Ozy; and he also warned fervently of Ozy’s treachery.  All that I have seen has confirmed his admonition.

Much is at stake, and I have little patience for word games.  Yet for the sake of Az’atta, and for Kayla, I shall remained focused on obtaining from Ozy as much information as I can.  In the coming days, I shall pray fervently to Rofirein on this, that when the encounter comes, He shall guide my every word, and open and sharpen my mind that I might see through all of the fiend’s subtleties.

*Ael ponders for a moment, and in that instant, a complex medley of emotion plays across his face: recognition of an idea; a frown and jealousy as his eyes glow a much deeper shade of blood crimson; and then a subtle grin as the color of his eyes returns to its normal hue.  He laughs quietly to himself as he resumes writing.*

Perhaps Alantha could assist me in gathering from Ozy the information I need.

I shall also visit with Marainna.  I believe that she and Kayla lived together at one time.  Perhaps she has access to Kayla’s effects.  Then if I could persuade Marainna to let me search them, perhaps I could find some clue Kayla might have left behind as to what her intentions were before she disappeared.

I recall that Kayla first lead us to a site near the Broken Halls.  Allegedly, that was to be the remains of some great cathedral of Az’atta.  Yet we found nothing there, on the surface, except a grouping of pillars arranged in a circle amidst an overgrown grove.  We thoroughly searched the surrounds and looked beneath some rubble nearby.  I write this account here because I believe there was one direction in which we failed to look: straight down.  So I must ponder as to whether we should return to that site to dig some deep holes.  Perhaps this would yield something?  Yet first, I should press Ozy about this discrepancy, when I question him.

Finally, I have heard reports of an immense outpouring of spiders across Mistone continent.  I myself have seen these vermin; and I have enjoyed slaughtering as many as I could.  A question that comes to mind here is to what extent this is related to Ca’Duzite activity.  Yet even if there is a link, to what extent would investigating this yield anything of relevance to the problems I face?

Time is of the essence.  I must tread carefully and act wisely.

//Ael's references to Ozy are entirely role play, based on what he has indicated, above.  As a player, Ozy has given me some very good advice on a couple questions I have asked him ooc, pertaining to aspects of Layo.

[Yllyrryon]

*written in Deep Drow in a rough, box-character script; yet the overall appearance is one of neatness*

Dream Dance, the Twenty Seventh Day of Autumn Twilight, the Year 1378, of This the Third Generation of Layonara

I copy the following note into this, my journal, for future reflection.

My dearest Sahala-

With displeasure I write to you of these important matters, yet of late, it seems that many days pass between each time I see you.

First, I no longer desire to live at Alantha’s house.  She is a fine friend of both of ours, and it means very much to me that she has so generously given us a room there.  Yet already I can see within myself, that seeking comfort in a home softens my spirit, dulls my mind, and saps my true inner strength.  What implications this may hold for my future, I know not. But the immediate path before me has become clear, and I know what I must do.

Secondly, I release you from engagement to me.  After I offered myself to you that night, outside of Fort Hope, I thought the matter was closed, that our lives would flow together naturally from that point onward as two streams would converge into a larger river.  Yet since then, I have felt constrained and limited; others have judged me for things I have since done, and words that I have since spoken, with all of which I had no ill intention.  Though I have lived eighty some years on the surface, most of the surfacers quaint traditions have seemed to me, at best, trivialities.  I had no idea what it meant to propose, let alone marry, according to the standards of the place in which we now live.

I know scarce little about love.  And maybe love is something that, by its nature, cannot be known.  I feel that liberation is fundamental to love, though.  And these past weeks have made me feel anything but free - other than in the moments we have spent alone, together, which are too few and far between.

I have said this to you before, and I shall write it again:

I am who and what I am, and I do what I do.

To this, I add something I had known all along, but had forgotten in my misguided zeal to try to please others, including the gods, and to be something that I am not:

I must stand up for myself and my own interests, because when it is all said and done, no one else will.

Sahala, I shall harbor you no ill will should you choose to utterly forsake me.  Yet know that this life I must live is open to you, should you ever choose to partake of it.

Ael

[Yllyrryon]

*here a letter has been carefully affixed to one of the bound parchments*

*the letters of the note are flowing and smooth, and the language is Elven*

My Sweet Ael,

I have seen your discomfort, your misgivings, from afar. You look at me with those troubled eyes, and I have nothing to offer for comfort but myself, and that, you won't have. I have lost you to a curse, to a charm, and now I lose you to yourself.

Know this, Ael: my time with you has strengthened me. I found love in a world where all I knew was hate. Let me answer what I can, and hear me out. Though I am young and lacking in wisdom, my love for you will guide my words.

If you choose to abandon your home in Leilon, know you can always return. I do not speak for Alantha or Cray, but for myself. Everything that's there I put there for you.

If you no longer desire to be with me, know I will always be waiting for you. I'll always find you, support you. I will always love you, Ael. It is more than a feeling. *the ink here is lightly smeared* I have given you my heart, by choice. No matter what you do with it, it's yours.

You are a Champion. You cannot be bound. So be it.

When your time is over, I'll still be here, waiting.

You know my limited knowledge of the surface, and even more limited knowledge of my own race. What I know of marriage I take from a babe's memories of the rites of Beryl's gnomes. I remember it was no trivial thing. I was serious, am serious, when I admitted my desire to spend all of my days with you.

Oh my sweet Ael, I know you cannot help but please; you cannot help but fight for another; you cannot help but take up a cause. It is you. It is what makes you a Champion.

But you are wrong in one thing. When all is said and done, I will stand up for you and your interests. You will never be alone so long as I breathe. Stand up for yourself, for your own interests, but know I will always stand next to you. You have my heart; take also my strength.

I don't know what's lead you to this, *there's an evident smudge here* and I pray it's no charm.

Please do not forget me. Do not forget that everything I do, I do for you.

*signed*
The one who is called,
Sahala

*then writing in Deep Drow in a rough, box-character script, the overall appearance of which is one of neatness*

Winged Trade, the Twenty Eighth Day of Autumn Twilight, the Year 1378, of This the Third Generation of Layonara

A paid courier delivered this to me only moments ago.

I have no time for this now.

Here, in my journal, is the safest place for this letter.  Perhaps later I shall try to fathom its meaning and her motives for writing such things.

[Yllyrryon]

*Inscribed in Deep Drow on a fine parchment in calligraphy that is flowing and graceful, yet austere.*

Dead Eye, the Sixteenth Day of Autumn Dark, the Year 1378, of This the Third Generation of Layonara

The delight of the kill!

CaDuzite blood flowed in rivers that day.  That day in which they paid for their transgressions against me and those whom I love.  Twas nothing but sheer delight from start to finish.  And the glorious sight of that temple collapsing into utter ruin - the earth shaking and the dirt and smoke rising in plumes.  Some images have been burned into the very fabric of my mind, and this is truly one of them.  What ecstacy!

I have journeyed far, even since that blessed day, seeking one who holds a key to that which I must accomplish next.  Facing peril alone, I found her abode, and yet she would not hear me.  

But I have become like a flowing stream: put a barrier in my way and I will cascade about it or seep through it.  It is only a matter of time.

The present moment is my haven, my joy, my agony, and my weapon.

*He laughs quietly to himself as he continues writing.*

Yet I am a fool and a weakling.  This is something of which I will never lose sight.  Rest upon any laurel and lose the gain upon which it is based.  Reality is so beautifully cruel.

[Yllyrryon]

Tiny searing hot needles pressed into the soft flesh underneath his finger nails - or so it felt.  Although his mind had touched upon these sensations in that moment, they merged into a fiery flow of sheer agony that pervaded all aspects of his being - his body, his emotions, his mind....his soul, or whatever of it remained.

Laughter....always the laughter...tormenting him, draining him of hope.  And the tiny glowing eyes in the dark..what color were they?  Many colors?  Who knows?  He couldn’t fathom it if he had tried...so much had lost its meaning...or did any of it ever have any meaning?  Yet those demonic eyes were always there, always watching him - drinking of his suffering, draining his vital energy, or so it seemed.

If only he could scream...anything to give him but a moment’s release from the agony that was rending through him, tearing the very fabric of who or what he was.  Yet the spell was holding him in a physically relaxed state...so that he couldn’t even clench his fists, grit his teeth, close his eyes, or do anything else to lessen the waves of misery engulfing his consciousness.  He couldn’t even pass out...they kept him there, a helpless witness...to something far worse than even the cruelest of murders.
...

Somewhere in the depths of a dark forest shrouded in the cold mists of late autumn, soft and still, two eyes slowly opened, pulsing a deep blood-crimson glow in the surrounding shadows.  Ael breathed deeply, slowly, deliberately...gently mustering his entire consciousness and focusing it solely on the subtle caress of the air flowing into and out of his nostrils.  On the periphery of his perception, he sensed fatigue and soreness throughout his body - residues from the previous day’s toil that still remained.

And so, fully open to and accepting of the need of the moment, the need for rest and sleep, Ael breathed deeply with a sad yet gentle smile as he slowly closed his eyes.  His mindfulness lightly touched upon the tensions and anxieties that had sprung forth from the nightmare vision - soothing and relaxing them as he let go...drifting back into that perilous realm to which he was inextricably bound.

[Yllyrryon]

//

"Without Haste!  Without Rest!"
Bind the motto to thy breast
Bear it with thee as a spell
Storm or sunshine, guard it well
Heed not flowers that ‘round ye bloom
Bear it onwards to the tomb!

-Excerpt from a poem by Goethe//

The cold autumn’s night air was crisp and pure.  Ael smiled as he gazed upwards through the tree limbs to the crystal clear night sky above, to one of the moons shining brightly, a pure white, like a pearl on black velvet.  Fixing his gaze upon the celestial jewel with a sad reminiscent smile, he breathed deeply of the night air as his thoughts flowed to another.... Alantha, a priceless gem and a goddess in her own right.  As his breath reached its zenith, he closed his eyes and slowly lowered his head, holding within his mind a vivid image of Alantha in all her exquisite beauty, adorned in purest white and jewels, casting some powerful spell...harnessing the weave as the very air about her began to spin with pure magical energy.  Still smiling thus with his eyes closed, he held the image sharply, clearly within his mind as he held his breath for several moments.  Finally surrendering to his body’s need for fresh air, he exhaled with deliberate slowness, ignoring the intense burning coming from his deprived lungs.  He opened his eyes slowly with the same sad, yet accepting visage, as the image he had so intensely savored faded with his exhalation.

“Truly....incessant change is the sole constant in all of reality.”  He pondered to himself.  He looked up to the sky and felt a faint sense of comfort in the notion that the same moonlight was falling upon her, wherever she may be or whatever she may be doing...even if she were with another.  He smiled, “The Phoenix above everything in this life I have been given, Midnight....yet you alone I shall hold above all mortals.”

Nodding once to himself, all trace of expression save steely determination and intense focus left his countenance as he wholly turned himself to that which he had set forth to do this eve.  Swiftly he strode off into the depths of the night, straight towards his goal, beautiful yet deadly like a dark bird of prey.

http://www.layonaraonline.com/forums/photos/show-album.asp?albumid=308&photoid=4944

[Yllyrryon]

*Inscribed in Deep Drow on a fine parchment in calligraphy that is flowing and graceful, yet austere.*

Night’s Eye, the Twenty Ninth Day of Autumn Dark, the Year 1378, of This the Third Generation of Layonara


I am a warrior....a soldier...forged since my first breath for a single purpose: to go where others could not tread and there to kill the enemy from the shadows -  Vress’lvel’s enemies for whatever reason or whim....  My earliest memories are of the training...the lessons, many painful...lessons I shall never forget......my life always on the line....Failure is Death, and Death, Failure..................

*The ink trails off here, and Ael doesn’t seem to notice the smear as he pauses and frowns for a moment.  He begins to look at the page with an uncharacteristic blank, glazed over look.  For several moments he remains that way, then the shrill sound of a burst of icy wind outside startled him...bringing him back fully to the present task.  Ael breathes deeply and seems to focus on his writings with a cold, utterly dispassionate clarity.*

The son who never existed - this was my lot.  I was to be her weapon...to spy, to lie, to seduce, to kill.....always to kill.  Always death, in the end.  And even though House d’lil Maethra fell a year and one half before my training for the Trials was complete, I knew well how to do all of these.

Why do these things occupy my mind this eve?  Why does writing of these dark truths bring solace?

*he breathes deeply with a trace of a reminiscent smile, which fades as he writes*  

Now I’m thinking of those days in Port Hampshire after Aylahadratha had saved me.  I recall her referring to me as “an innocent” as she spoke to Trolathar in our tongue.  I didn’t understand that word then; and now I see how wrong she was....how she assumed so much.  Was I ever innocent?

*he gently places his quill into the ink well and shuts his eyes, leans forward a bit, contemplating.  A serene look appears and he reaches for his quill; he smiles with a look of reassurance as he vividly brings to mind an image of Leleithen’s Crest - a symbol of the Handmaiden’s former house, representing her dark and evil past, the symbol resting within the gentle grasp of a pair of delicate hands, a filigreed inscription wrapped around it; he writes the words:*

One must first know darkness before one can know light.

*He pauses and looks over to the gloves Eldratha had given him, a faint glow emanating from them, even in the dim candle light.  Ael holds his gaze upon them and seems to take heart a bit more.  “I won’t let you down, Eldratha”.  He continues writing.*

I am a soldier....a servant...following orders precisely and to utmost perfection was ingrained into my mind as a child.  Yet of late on more than one occasion, the burden of leadership has fallen upon my shoulders.  Only by the grace of The Redemptress, was I able to guide my friends to saving Aylahadratha...and I relied upon all of them more than leading them in any way.

*he ponders for a long time as the candle burns low, nods once to himself with a conclusive look and resumes*

I failed this eve, I think, alienating one who was once a friend.  My zeal got the better of me.  I am ill-equipped to lead.  I know this all too well.  Yet I shall never give up...never cease fighting until my last breath.  Only time will tell.  I thank the Phoenix for her mercy.  Truly...I feel as if I am learning how to gain freedom from the most cruel of masters I have ever endured....myself.

*He smiles warmly as he continues writing.*

Ever since memorizing those verses from Az’atta’s Word, I have begun examining my true self as best as I can perceive it...more closely than I ever have...not holding back in the least.  And I have learned that both Alantha and Annun have a very special place in my heart, that I love each of them in their own way....far above any other.

And earlier this eve was a very special moment...Annun.  I confessed my love to her.  Nor did I hide from her that I felt equally as strong about Alantha.  It was nothing short of magic...I had never opened myself...my heart...to any other as I did.

*With the same smile and a look of fond reminiscence, he carefully seals his ink well and puts away his quill....then gazes into the candle’s flame, contemplating as the candle burns to the bottom and its flame dies out.  Seemingly at peace in the darkness, he slowly rises, quietly moving to his meditation mat.  He kneels, offers a silent prayer to Az’atta, and resumes his endeavors upon the more subtle strata of his being.*

[Yllyrryon]

*Sitting atop the roof of his goddess’ Temple, facing towards a vast flow of turbulent blue in the fading twilight, Ael takes a deep breath and closes his eyes as a refreshing cool breeze rushes in from the Sea of Fury.  The Bard’s words remain clear in his mind.  With the trace of a smile, he slowly opens his eyes and carefully begins writing in his customary script:  

Inscribed in Deep Drow on a fine parchment in calligraphy that is flowing and graceful, yet austere.*

World Tree, the Thirty First Day of Winter Snow, the Year 13_ _, of This the Third Generation of Layonara

Here I write what Ozy told me a couple evenings ago.  He spoke in verses filled with subtle meaning.

“Silver clouds grace the sky, stars do sparkle brightly,
ascenders ponder their chance, in Rilara they do dance.
The perfect gem fallen, the lady of wine pinned,
Lucindas allies at risk, what a price for this.

The oak does grow, the silver is found, the blade is brought, the amulet is saught. Blood does march, The Ascender Plans, Shadows Walk thruought the land.

Endless grief and sorrow..

Hearts slumbering again, Stars frozen in place, Darkness envelops the land. In the spilling of blood, hope glimmers dim, night does wrap, the armies march. Perchance a way to save the land.

Shimmering lights, the stars grow bright, the scorpion and the serpants night. Face off they do in the south, what betrayels could be found in Rilara's heart.”

*Ael frowns pondering for a few moments before resuming his writing*

Is Blood targeting the Weave, itself?  Weakening Lucinda’s allies before finally striking Her with a crippling blow?  

I went to the Great Library to ascertain who are Lucinda’s allies.  I already know our church favors the Lucindites, and they regard us with similar favor.

Rofirein is weakened.  Ilsare and Lucinda are at odds, no longer allies as far as I know.  Beryl is diminished, if not fallen entirely.  The Destroyer and His dark allies and minions hunt Folian, as Reventage her dwarven colleague warned us.

This leaves Aeridin and Katia.

Rilara...I must focus my attention there.  Firesteep will have to wait.

*Ael frowns a bit as he writes the last line.  Then he relaxes a bit as he watches one of the moons rise over the seas to the east in a crystal clear night sky.  Looking up to the Enlightened Path, he wonders if he will helplessly watch his own goddess come under attack and diminish.  As the call to evening prayer resounds upwards from the sanctuary, he puts away his writing materials and crawls down from his lofty perch.

“Obedience to the next duty....”  Descending a flight of stairs, Ael smiles a bit as he recalls Master Trolathar’s words, “all you need to do is merely that which must be done - no more, no less.”

With a serene smile, Ael strides out into the light of the sanctuary, joining the fellowship of this brothers and sisters gathered this eve in the presence of the Phoenix.*

[Yllyrryon]

http://www.layonaraonline.com/forums/photos/show-album.asp?albumid=308&photoid=5348

Ael Rynthien: *smiling ear to ear he deftly bends down and picks a bouquet of wildflowers and kneels before her, takes her hand and lightly, tenderly kisses it*
Ael Rynthien: *hands her the bouquet smiling lovingly to her* let's get married here
Sahala: *she looks down, eyes glistening, and takes the bouquet*  Ael....
Sahala: *whispers*  don't tease me.
Ael Rynthien: *looking up to her with a loving smile* i want everyone to know i'm yours...*kisses her hand lightly* and i'm not teasing
Sahala: *he can feel her pulse speeding even as he touches her hand with his lips*
Ael Rynthien: *he laughs a bit* there's a ring i'm....working on getting....but i just couldn't wait to ask
Sahala: Ael...  *blinks and her eyes begin to tear up*  
Sahala: Please... I don't need a ring, or a wedding, or ... I just need you, Ael....  
Ael Rynthien: *he's totally focused on her with a gentle smile and a welcoming demeanor*
Ael Rynthien: And I, you, Sahala
Sahala: I don't want you entering into an arrangement you aren't ready for, or aren't sure of... I don't want to lose you again...
Ael Rynthien: I've thought about it....and I understand a bit of what it's all about.  And what i dont understand, i know i'll learn from you
Sahala: please...  *she chokes a bit on her words and bends down beside him*
Sahala: *she takes his hands in hers*
Sahala: Please tell me you really mean it.
Ael Rynthien: It's about love, which we have....which my love for you grows each moment it seems....*takes her hand and kisses it lightly*
Sahala: *her voice is now hoarse and her eyes are welling with tears*  I can't go through another... time like that....
Ael Rynthien: *kisses her hand tenderly again* I do mean it.  And I would never put you through such a thing *voice trembles a bit, puts his arms around her and pulls her close*
Sahala: *leans on him*  I love you.  
Sahala: I have since the day I first saw you.
Ael Rynthien: *a single tear falls from his right eye...she feels him make an effort to stay composed...* I'm sorry i put you through that
Sahala: *whispers*  No sorries.  Just hold me.  Hold me and don't let go.
Ael Rynthien: I've loved you since we first met.  But I had never loved another, nor have I ever....like this. *voice trembling a bit he pulls her closer and breathes deeply*
Ael Rynthien: *he kisses her tenderly smiling to her looking uncharacteristically vulnerable*
Ael Rynthien: I....just never felt that way before...
Sahala: *looks up into his eyes and blinks slowly, as if taking a snapshot of Ael for her to forever rememeber*
Sahala: Neither had I...
Ael Rynthien: *he slowly reaches out with his left hand and caresses the right side of her face, still smiling*
Sahala: *closes her eyes, savoring the moment*
Ael Rynthien: *he kisses her tenderly and lightly presses his forehead against hers, looking to her admiring her with a gentle smile*
Sahala: *takes a deep breath and opens her eyes*  I will marry you, Ael.  I will marry you and the world will know of our love.  *leans back and wipes the tears from her eyes*
Sahala: *smiles and suddenly laughs*  
Ael Rynthien: *he smiles as well and laughs, rising with her*
Sahala: *grabs his hands and start spinning around, dancing in a circle*
Ael Rynthien: *he lets her lead their dance, smiling and laughing quietly*
Sahala: *spins until she falls into his arms once more laughing loud in the night*
Ael Rynthien: *holds her close and kisses her*

[Yllyrryon]

Contemplating with a slight frown in the near-darkness, Ael holds the tome in which he has kept in journal in his lap.  He runs his fingers across the smooth laminated obsidian and lightly over the ruby crest in the center: an intricate depiction of a dragon spewing forth from its fearsome maw a deluge of flame; tiny, delicate script within the flame spells out his family’s name in High Drow: d’lil Maethra, which means, “of the Dragon” in common.

It escaped Ael how this elaborate, masterfully cut inlay had come to him, though he knew where, and roughly when it had come into his possession.  But this was but a small element of what occupied his mind this night.

Ael looks up as Sahala turns over quietly in their bed nearby.  He looks to her closely with concern at her uncharacteristic restlessness, something that has become more common of late.  Yet he sees that she smiles in her deep meditation.  He nods once to himself and puts away the tome he had been holding, rises and carefully, silently goes over to her, laying down beside her to hold her in his arms until she will awaken.

Taking comfort in Sahala’s  smile, her beauty, her being there with him, in his arms, Ael smiles as well for an instant, though the smile fades as he closes his eyes to face the thoughts and memories presenting themselves to him in those moments.

Insights had presented themselves to him the moment he saw the great crimson wyrm, Fisterion, swooping downward towards him and his friends through the soot-and-steam-filled sky of the Firesteeps.  Fascination had overcome fear, and likely he would not have said a word to the others of the approaching threat, had it not changed course to land amidst its kobold minions some quarter-mile away from the mine shaft around which Ael’s group had gathered.  The tremor caused by Fisterion’s landing had brought Ael to his better senses, whereupon he warned the others.

Ael frowns with the all-too-clear vision of the kobold attack in the mines shortly thereafter...sights of his friends’ falling; the pain of the fire burning him; his stumbling into the shadows, later to find that only Yard had survived.

Yet under the cover of a simple weave, he and Yard had been allowed to walk out of the place - back to the boat to Dregar.

In her trance-like state, Sahala cuddles closer to Ael; he breathes deeply savoring her proximity to him, and gently kisses her forehead, closes his eyes and returns to his contemplations.

Denial - it dulls the mind and freezes one’s progress along the Path.  Ael trembles slightly as he opens himself to that which he had been denying since Firesteep.  Further images and insights flow before his mind in the following moments, making that span of time seem much longer than what it is.  Yet it seems to Ael, with each conclusion, a dozen more questions arise.

Deeply contemplating thus, Ael loses track of time until the one in his arms begins to stir.  Opening his eyes he sees Sahala’s ruby colored eyes, a hue matching the ruby dragon inlay on his journal.  He smiles lovingly as she does to him, and savors a long yet delicate kiss.  Then he smiles to her again with a look of complete devotion, holding her close.  “I love you, Sahala.”

To which she replies, “E ceela aey, lia lakyaaan Ael.”

[Yllyrryon]

Ael Rynthien says in Ear for Drow Language: Well.  In discussing that I shared with her something I would have rather first mentioned to you, but as both she and Alantha are among our closest friends, I saw no harm
Ael Rynthien: Did she mention what happened to me in the Driftlands lately... while I was returning to Pranzis from Saudiria?
Sahala Rynthien: *pulls a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, looking mildly worried*  No...
Ael Rynthien: Good *with a reassuring smile*
Sahala Rynthien: Ael...
Ael Rynthien says in Ear for Drow Language: I knew I was being followed so I took another course *pauses and raises an eyebrow*
Sahala Rynthien: *listens*
Ael Rynthien: Yes, love? **listens to her attentively, focused on her with a loving smile*
Sahala Rynthien: Nothing.... finish what you were saying.
Ael Rynthien: Please.  I wish to hear what you had to say.  No hesitations.  **still smiling lovingly to her, gently places an arm around her and tenderly kisses her*
Sahala Rynthien: I had nothing to say, in truth, only to pursue what it is you encountered. *looks closely at him*
Ael Rynthien: **nods*
Ael Rynthien says in Ear for Drow Language: I know the desert well, as I often seek solitude far into the sea of sand... there to meditate and pray.  So I led my pursuers to a place where I knew I could confront them...with the element of surprise...a place where there were many ways to escape, if need be
Sahala Rynthien: *listens*
Ael Rynthien: I sensed but one of them; though it was slow, it was very persistent.  When I confronted it, the shrowded figure removed its hood... a lone drow....and young, though not a great deal younger than ourselves.
Sahala Rynthien: *eyes flash briefly, as if in thought*
Ael Rynthien: **raises an eyebrow looking closely to her* Your thoughts, my love?
Sahala Rynthien says in Ear for Drow Language: He did not say anything to you?  Or threaten you?
Ael Rynthien: **nods, welcoming the question, seems to ponder briefly, then shakes his head* For several moments we stood there facing one another in silence.
Ael Rynthien: **breathes deeply, smiles to her serenely, intently focused on her as he continues, with an reassuring look to her, speaking quietly yet clearly in a gentle tone* When it came time to speak, it turns out he claimed to be my son.
Sahala Rynthien: *looks somewhat confused and worried at the same time* Could that even be true?
Ael Rynthien: **gently hugs her, looking to her reassuringly* It changes nothing, even if it were true...though I doubt it.  This one has the burden of gaining my trust before I believe any such thing
Sahala Rynthien: By age alone this seems impossible.
Ael Rynthien: **shakes his head* I was very young, a mere adolescent, when I began serving my mother as her spy, as her assassin.  I could go places and reach those she could not.  More than once I found myself in bed with some female she viewed as a threat or an enemy.  And this was his claim...that in the course of such an endeavor, I had fathered him...and for whatever reason his mother let him live.
Sahala Rynthien: I see....
Ael Rynthien: **he looks to her closely as he hugs her gently* What are your thoughts on this?  *attentively focused on her with concern*
Sahala Rynthien: I am curious to see if this is true...
Ael Rynthien: **nods* More to his story....he claims the name, Chath.  And an elder sister of mine, V'rin'klatu *slight distate in  tone* supposedly survived the fall of our house...somehow obtaining Chath and gaining favor in the Goddess' temple of some other city.  This, Chath, was raised under her auspices.  And by Godess I do not mean Az'atta, my love. *cautious tone*
Sahala Rynthien: *blinks and nods slowly*
Ael Rynthien: There was a trace of truth in his words, as I questioned him extensively.  But I don't believe everything.
Sahala Rynthien says in Ear for Drow Language: Why did he come to you then?
Ael Rynthien : Not out of loving-kindness. *trace of sarcasm*
Sahala Rynthien says in Ear for Drow Language: Of course not, he doesn't even know you.
Ael Rynthien says in Ear for Drow Language: **nods with her words* Only time wil reveal the nature of this.  We must be both patient and vigilant.
Sahala Rynthien: Could he have been sent to test you?  examine you?  Or do you think he came of his own accord?
Ael Rynthien: He claimed to come of his own accord; *shrugs* that he had heard of me in the Realm Below.  **focused on her attentively*
Sahala Rynthien says in Ear for Drow Language: I wonder if they know of your...calling.... that even IF they managed to kill you...you would simply reemerge from a bindstone.  If not, we are at a strong advantage.
Ael Rynthien: **nods* Good questions, love.  Yet if they come to kill me, the advantage is but temporary,  for they will learn of my re-emergence, should they succeed.  Then they will seek to fathom it's cause. **hugs her gently*
Sahala Rynthien: Not so, for we will learn much from their attack...enough, I think, that we will be able to turn the tables..as you did against the Ca'Duzites... and bring the offensive to them.
Ael Rynthien: **nods*  Well.  Think on this new turn of events.  And remain vigilant, my love. *hugs her then with a reassuring and loving smile, tenderly kisses her forehead*
Sahala Rynthien says in Ear for Drow Language: I will...It leaves me much to think on, truly....
Ael Rynthien: We have each other.  That's what matters to me. **pauses and nods with her words*  You are strong, my love, and I'm thankful for this.  Some of the truths I must share perhaps have been difficult to hear.  But these are things I shan't hide from you
Sahala Rynthien: I will always remain with you, Ael, no matter what.  There is nothing that can turn me from you.  And you know this.
Ael Rynthien: **kisses her again*  And I, you.  We are one, my love, forever. **totally focused on her he gently caresses her face smiling lovingly to her wth a look of complete devotion*
Sahala Rynthien: Indeed, and in touching one, they have affected the other.  They will not take one of us without the other's retribution.
Ael Rynthien: **nods* You should rest, love *smiling lovingly to her; kisses her, gently picks her up and places her on the bed, then laughs* Perhaps not in that though
Sahala Rynthien: I can leave it beside the bed *discarding the garment onto the floor smiles and lets him tuck her in*
Ael Rynthien: **tucks her in and holds her gently while she sleeps; he meditates all the while and is there, completely focused on her, when she rises*