The Musings of Myrrha De'loran

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

This is not supposed to be a diary, but a stream of musings. I'm not sure how well this would work out - since theoretically one would not remember everything and anything without some form of a written journal. But eyesight problems have their merits.

I'm relatively new to this RPing business, so my apologies if something doesn't sound good. Feel free to offer corrections.

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

She said that I could go far, and nothing could stand in my path except myself. She told me to believe in my abilities, to learn independence. She said that I must see other things in life, besides darkness and shadow. She gave me the gift of hope, and sent me on my way.

They told me it was a whole new world out there. They spoke of glorious civilizations, towns and cities, wild woods of the elves and vast caverns of the dwarves. One or two even mentioned tales and rumors of an Underdark, whatever it might be. Gold and gems, fame and glory, all awaited those who dared seek their fortune. They were but simple men, content to relay stories and tales of the dangers that lay out there. Perhaps some were exaggerated - tales to scare the locals, to worry children at their bedtimes, or to perhaps brag about their own courage in facing those dangers. I would not know.

They spoke of one called Blood. They would mutter his name in hushed whispers; perhaps they made signs to avert bad luck, but I did not see them. I learnt from her that Blood was a creature of evil, from long times ago, who had gone down in countless songs and stories. That was all.

"Fortune favors the bold", so they always said. For them, as traders, there was money to be made. For adventurers, fame and fortune was theirs to claim. For myself - what lay ahead of me, I did not know.

But I knew I had to get out.

What was the point of remaining in my misery, without a future, a voice and a name? I never thought of going far, only getting out. To go beyond the gates of this village - a challenge in itself. I spent all my life here so far - I knew every corner and nook and cranny that I could touch with my own two hands. But that was it. That was as far as life brought me.

And now... I must claim destiny.  

It was hard to leave. But she was my influence, my strength. And they encouraged me in ways that they themselves never knew. All in all, their words were priceless to my eager ears. And they forced me to make my stand.

At twenty years of age, I leave home.

For the first time.

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

Clothing.

Food.

Water.

And with that, I begin the journey out of my home village.

Mother would not let me go. I knew it, from the very day I dared mention the word 'travel' in one breath. Mother, Lucinda bless her heart, is the very best parent such a daughter like I could have. I see that now. Now and only now, after all these years we have fought, quarrelled, and shouted at each other over the fate life had chosen for us. I used to question her decisions; I resented her for being what she was. And now...

I suppose I love her. But I cannot let her hold me down any longer. Blind or not blind, I have to find freedom - freedom that this village cannot offer to me. I cannot be my mother's creature anymore, nor will I let her be my keeper. Times have changed - I am far from being the sickly waif that I was, groping in the dark, looking for a hand to hold. Yes, times have changed. I cannot have her watching me like a hawk, every day and night... She fears for my safety, I know she does.

Even now, I see her in my mind's eye. She moves about the run-down shanty that we made our home in, her face wrinkled, wraught with worry over the fate of a lost, and I might add, wayward daughter. She makes dinner; she lays out two places at the table, yet only one will be filled. She gazes out of the window, past the candle burning on the ledge - but ah! I cannnot think of this anymore. Those days are past.

And yet she finally let me go. Her last bitter words were "Do what you want. I don't care." I know she does, although she finds it hard to express. Perhaps in the far future, if and when I return, I will embrace her and thank her for bringing me up - at last - and acknowledge how much I have hurt her over the years.

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

I learnt from young how unkind the world could be. And still, I am grateful for large favors - given by men and women who see beyond outer appearances. I hitched a ride out with a merchant caravan. They were good persons; genial and accomodating, though perhaps not given to escorting females. When I told them of my desire to journey out into the world, they were - well, horrified, amazed, surprised by what one could either call profound bravery or stupidity. I could hear it in their voices.

That was three days into the journey. And still they suggested turning back. Which would cost them much time - and gold - and yet they wanted to dissuade me from such a foolish venture. I had to lie. I told them about a relative living in Hlint - I heard of the name long ago - who would see to me, and take care of my needs. It was with reluctance that they agreed to continue...

Well, my path is set now. I may have blurted out the name of Hlint in haste, but, as she would say, destiny is set in the oddest ways possible. She would know. So I go to Hlint - a place I have only heard of, and envisioned in my dreams, along with the rest of the outside world. Perhaps this is for the best.

Lucinda bless my ventures -

For now, the entourage travels slowly, and I hear the sound of pouring rain outside the sheltered - and thankfully dry - compartment of the caravan. I shiver, and huddle in a corner, hugging to myself the bundle of whatever little worldly goods I possess. The day grows long. I hope I arrive soon.

And I have to do more than hope.

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

Destiny...

I awake with that word on my mind.

Last night I dreamt of a Dragon. It seemed so real. In that dream, I found myself in a patch of open ground, the shadows of trees mixing and melding in the background. A forest clearing, perhaps. The ground was rough and stony under my feet, and I stood on what appeared to be stone steps, leading up to a platform cut from crude rock. I remember staring in disbelief, and looking around.

And then I saw... it. The Dragon.

And for once, only once, something was different. I could see. See my surroundings as clear as day. No more shadows creeping into the corners of my eyes, no squinting, no blinking, no having to strain to make out anything clearer than the five fingers on a hand. I saw the shapes of trees, the texture of the stone and grass, the Dragon itself.

Back in the village, she told me tales of Dragons. Where eyes could not see, she let listening ears be the guide to understanding the world of legends. She described the Dragons in detail. She told me what they did, how they looked like. And where imagination failed me, she would take my hand, and gently use it to draw rough sketches in the dirt which I could feel and touch.

"Perhaps you'll meet one someday, Myrrha. Perhaps you will."

And indeed - my dearest godmother, Lucinda bless your soul! - I have.

The Dragon, as it were, spoke to me about destiny and the creature called Blood. For strange at it might seem, the Dragon maintained that I was "called" to assist in Blood's downfall. How could that be? And yet, in that wild and uncertain moment, I was too dumbfounded and amazed to question. A dream, that is all, I told myself in secret. And before I knew it... I was pulled back, rushing back into reality. Stirring from sleep, opening my eyes to vain haziness.

And waking, as Lucinda would have it, to the cries of the caravan men - "Hlint is near!"

I could have cried. Cried in relief, in joy, in being able to make the next step. And cried in frustration and sadness as well. For why was it that in dreams, I could see as clear as day, as though it were back before the time when that horrible disease struck? How was it that for the first time in fifteen years, sight was granted to my soul, and yet for a brief, fleeting, unreal moment? Why would I dream of a Dragon, bent on either encouraging or taunting my spirit - with promises of grand destiny, when I had barely made the first step out into the world?

And - I cannot help but weep - through the Dragon, I was reminded of her. Godmother. Lucinda, bless her... bless her for every bit of kindness that she showed to a poor half-blind girl. Bless her for giving that girl back life when she had none. Bless her, for You took her away, and let Your servant here be alone, to regret that such little time shared between us was cut short -

And bless me too, Lucinda, for letting me live, although I will - I feel - never understand why You did this to me. Bless my heart for being stubborn, for setting out to defy what seemed to be set in stone for my soul. Bless me for scorning a simple life, and striving for more. Bless me for setting up a meeting with destiny, or whatever awaits me in Hlint - or even in dreams.

Lucinda, Lady of Spells, what do you wish of me? I have never understood till now.

Destiny, why do you play with me? I have not even started.

Destiny, indeed...

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

If anyone wonders about the flurry of posts, it's because I'm rushing to complete updates on my character - and also given that Layonara is heading towards its finale. This is a side project to improve my writing, as well.

Hlint, here I come!

This morning sees me at the gates of the town. It seems small, but well populated. In this dawn, I can make out shapes - distinct, but blurry still. Houses, shops, a guard platform, a pool, and several people wandering around. The caravan has gone off by now - they left me at the gates, bid me kindly to go to the nearest place of lodging, perhaps an inn - and went off down the road to Hlint. I think I heard them mention "pack oxes" and a need to "stock up" - perhaps there some facilities there, but I have not gone to look.

The sun rises; I can see a bit better now. I have not moved from the spot. Hlint - ah, a picture of quiet and peacefulness. I hear the crunch of gravel as the captain of the guard passes me, ignoring me while intent on his rounds. I detect the hushed murmurs of a pair of clerics - it appears so - gathered by an open-air temple's grounds, next to the whispers of a fountain with free-flowing water. Faint noises echo from beyond; the sounds of people waking up, in the confines of their homes, ready to begin a new day.

If I do not have the gift of pure sight, at least Lucinda grant me gratefulness for having a good pair of ears. I could stay in this spot all day long, I feel, resting on a rough-hewn bench, gazing into space, and simply listening to the sounds of a brand new world.

I smile to myself - and get up - and immediately stumble over a loose rock.

By Lucinda -

In all that excitement, and the flurry of activity as I left the caravan, I forgot one thing. My walking stick.

It must be with the caravan still. And by the looks of it, they should have left long ago to the next town. I know that I should be more sure of myself, and it is not as though I am completely blind - and still, I feel lost. Uncertain without this familiar aid. What a fool I am! I can feel that feeling of freedom, that impatience, all that enthusiasm, draining away in an instant. Here I am, declaring myself worthy of a better destiny, and I cannot find my way around town without a walking stick. Lucinda, indeed - You must have never seen such a hapless follower.

Lucinda, tell me then, what am I to do?

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

Silly fool that I am.

This morning saw me wandering around Hlint, hesitant, stumbling around and on the edge of anxiety. My worries grew as I sought help from the locals. Thank Lucinda, I was able to find assistance at last. One or two kind souls - I cannot remember their names - directed me to the Wild Surge Inn. As usual, I could not read the words on the sign - having to squint - but I managed fine. For the most, the hosts of the inn were courteous. Still I wished to find my way around, and after a mild drink or two at the inn, made my way out and down the street.

As far as the eye can see, Hlint is relatively small, and most of its citizens conduct their business out of the sight of prying eyes. Apart from a few guards, some clerics, and storekeepers who go about their affairs in broad daylight - and even at night - that seems to be all. I have gone to the shops, and purchased a new walking stick. "Made of the finest hickory! You'll worry no more after this." - or so the man at the counter assured me. I also bought a torch; it would be foolhardy to travel around without one, after dark.

I still need to familiarize myself with this place. And perhaps I need a guide. One who would help me around, and yet leave me to my affairs, and not view me as a burden. As most people have.

This night will see me tucked up comfortably in a bed at the Wild Surge Inn.

Tomorrow awaits.

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

This feels awkward.

I am about to do something new - a sorcerous summoning. It has been years since I tried anything more than a minor spell to make light out of insubstantial air; at that time it was nothing more than a frustrated attempt built out of a desire to break through darkness, in some way. Godmother herself told me what she could about sorcery, in those early days. But all she would say was that I had a gift, and no matter how much I begged and pleaded her to reveal more, she remained... silent.

I wonder how far I will get this time - but Lucinda, I hope, blesses efforts if not whole actions.

Sorcery, so Godmother told me, is an innate gift. It comes from the heart. Perhaps it was ordained from the very day of birth, destined as a gift to some, granted to a chosen few. Could I be that fortunate? This little act - this summoning - should prove the truth to myself.

I need a companion. I have to be honest. And a summoning is the best way for one.

I close my eyes. Raise my arms to the sky. Focus on this very act, willing it to link itself to every fibre of my being: body, mind and soul. I feel a strong force gathering around me - a wave, a ripple, a current of energy travelling across the fabric of time and space. Does it touch another plane? Can others feel it? I do not know. I chose to do the summoning in quiet, within the graveyard in Hlint - out of sight of prying eyes -

It works!

The air rents and changes shape. I feel a huge blurred black shadow loom in my face; I think of flapping wings, shapes soaring through the sky in flight, reaching towards the sun, calling out a desperate cry. I glimpse in my mind an alien creature unbound and unfettered, free to fly; a being of swiftness and intelligence. I complete the summoning. And open my eyes.

There it is, before me - a raven.

I reach out to stroke the creature, tentatively. It caws and perches on my shoulder, almost startling me. I smile. "From this day on, you are mine," I say softly. "I name you Mahood."

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

Disaster.

The days before have seen us, Mahood and I, venturing all about Hlint - doing what can be called as 'mundane' work. For the first time I have learnt the existence of danger, coming in all forms: rats, skeletons, goblins, and wild beasts in particular. How do common folk survive? I always wonder. With threats in the sewers, undead in the crypts, and boxed in by the goblins in the wilderness outside, it is a wonder that Hlint's folk go so calmly about their business.

And for the first time, too, I learnt about death.

It feels... strange to be dealt a killing blow, and feel one's body slick with blood. To lapse into nothingness, and then awake in a void. And then, all of a sudden, to be pulled back into existence, back face to face with the Bindstone in Hlint that I felt a connection with. Each time I fell - and Lucinda see it all, I did fall more than once - the same thing happened. What is going on? I feel frightened... and exhilarated. Can this mean that death can always be held at bay? But that does not seem the case...

Mahood, of course, takes it badly each time. The first time we both fell, I tried to summon him again. It failed. A few persons outside the Wild Surge Inn, one a mage in red robes, told me why. I wish it were otherwise! Each time Mahood falls, I have to stop whatever I plan and wait for his return. I am... too dependant on him. I cannot do anything without him - anything that courts danger, especially. But this is what I chose, and why complain? I need the money and experience to survive the days ahead. Lucinda forgive me.

These days have seen us doing all sorts of jobs at Hlint. Tomorrow will be the crypt, and the dreaded skeletons. I pray we come out safe.

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

Foes are many.

Friends are few.

Still, I have met some kind souls! Lucinda bless them. Not patronizing, not derogatory, just acting out of a desire to help. I have taken note of their voices and names, so that I would know them if I ran into them any further. They seem busy folk - running around the public crafthouse, and on the streets of Hlint. They come and go. I wonder what they do out there? And where do they find the minerals or materials that they seem to carry in loads by their pack oxes, to the crafthouse? I cannot imagine.

Karana Elksoul - I have seen her, off and on, over the past two weeks. She is a heavyset woman with a gruff way of speech. I remember her easily because of that. And... she is kind, belying her appearance. No doubt one would think her imposing, but I find it not so. She has helped me out, loaning money to buy a fishing rod when I mentioned needing another way to derive income - other than cleaning out infested crypts and sewers.

There are others, many whom I have stopped to talk with. In this place, with a new beginning and new life, I can always use some allies. There is a woman - Finola' I believe - with her bear Mala. She helped Mahood and I wrest back a book from that hideous Ratman in the sewers. Thank Lucinda for good favors. Another - Shilin Riv'nith, I think - who directed me to the inn the first day on.

Foes are many; friends are few. I have good ears. I hear whispered tales about troubled times down by the Wild Surge Inn. The town crier - whom everyone loves to despise - specializes in bringing to Hlint stories of doomsday and dread, it would seem. I have tried talking to him several times, but he insists on his job - relaying news that contributes to the discomfort of many in town. Could this be the real world? Peace fragile, and on the brink of war?

I would have thought that this would only exist in legends... I was brought up to believe that poverty and sparseness was the only discomfort to experience in life. Not war. If Mother and I were in want, at least we knew peace. Hah. Peace! I suppose I know less than I ever cared to.

Signs and potents - Godmother said to believe in them. Perhaps I will watch, and wait. And rely on Mahood to be my ears... and eyes as well.

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

Well, it seems I have found myself a new calling in life.

Fishing.

A small start, but a crucial one to sustain my livelihood. With a fishing pole, worms dug up from the soil, and a lot of luck, I carry out my newfound task. How easy can fishing be? Sometimes I smile to myself and think what a sight I must look to curious eyes. Day and night I haunt the pool in Hlint when I have nothing else to do. Mahood, the raven, guides my line forth - squawking and cawing and motioning me towards the quiet splash of the fish in the water.

I have heard from others that there are far more complex - but rewarding - vocations to carry out in this world. Baking? Brewing? Crafting? Gem cutting, perhaps? Interesting, all of them - but suited for those who are far more skilled than I. For this moment, I am content to huddle under a half-grown tree, my back turned towards the houses of Hlint, listening to the murmurs of the deep pool, and reeling in a few catches. And cooking them over a slow fire, of course.

Fire - it was a ranger named Talen Sgath who taught me how to make one. Ironically, we first met in the stores of Hlint - when I, loaded down with a catch of fish, was out looking for a customer or two who might want to buy them off my weary back. I would have gladly accepted a few coins just to get that stuff off my shoulders! And yet he returned me with far more. Because of him, I now have an extra backpack, a sling, and learnt the ways of, well... cooking in the wilderness. And I am putting this newfound skill to good use.

What more have I to say, or think? This is the life.

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

Nothing in life is certain - except death.

And I am sick of it.

Death, death, death. I suppose life's lessons must be learned the hard way.

First off, I have to remind myself - to not stick my nose in places where I should not belong.

The last week has seen me go and come back from the void, more times than I care to count. My repertoire of spells - a magic missile here and there, a ray of frost, a creature summons - are not enough when it comes to facing hordes of enemies. Mahood, Lucinda bless him, is valiant in his attempts to defend - but usually fails. And when he falls, so do I. I cannot run fast enough, and even if I could, my eyesight hinders my progress. So far any progress made has been with the help of others. I do not want to trouble them, but they insist... caring folk that they are.

I just wish I could do more - more for myself.

The Goblin Wastelands, Sielwood Forest. The road leading on to Fort Llast. That is where I have been so far. I dare not go any further - who knows what greater dangers await? Sometimes I sit on the bench at Hlint, or by the fishing pool, and secretly envy the people passing by. They stroll by in a flash of colors, with confidence, and skill, and seem to be completely at ease with this world. Free to come and go as they wish. While I am reduced to being a nervous wreck.

I must turn things around. Soon.

I will not settle for less.

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

Well, it's done and done.

I dismissed my raven from my service.

I pity him in some way. Summoned creatures are a tool of their masters, expendable pawns in a chess game. I see several other characters walking around town with their own summons, and at times I do wonder: are they treated well? Do they find contentment in being dragged about, dominated, and ready to do their owners' every bidding? Mahood, my raven, has done all that and more. He died more than I, too. I know that he will come back after every battle, but still... He cannot do much.

No doubt others do a better job than I. I have seen Finola' and her bear, Mala, several times. Finola' treats Mala well. Mala seems very happy to follow her about. I cannot say that I have been entirely kind to Mahood, when I watch both Finola' and Mala at their work. They seem to have a bond lacking in my familiar and I.

So I dismissed my raven, and I think he was glad to be free.

In his place, I have a panther. And named him Mahood as well. When I was young, Godmother once told me a story of a hound dog who was faithful to his owner until death. For me, it was not the intrigues of the story that interested me - I never cared much for blood, death, and sacrifice, all of which were the highlights of the tale. No. I was far more thrilled by the concept of friendship. Standing side by side with another, never turning away. Not betraying a companion to the very end. The love of a friend, and much more. I hate to let myself down, but I have to admit that such a bond would have been impossible with the raven Mahood and I.

So, for now things have changed. I have a panther by my side. Let us see, under the eye of watchful Lucinda, how well this new partnership will work out.

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

My new Mahood is being... well, Mahood.

A very different Mahood than what my raven was.

My black furry friend here cannot keep himself still for a moment. He yawns, prowls, growls, wanders around, runs away, comes back, sits at my feet, and even chases his tail - that, I believe, for the benefit of curious onlookers. What am I to do with him? This is something I did not expect... for a familiar, a creature so playful and a delight as much as a pest.

He is drawing interest from those who stop to see him, men and women alike. I believe he basks in the title of "Nice kitty", though I would not know for sure. He communicates to me in barks and growls and grunts and whining, but he does understand me. Though he would rather, as it seems, play much more than fight.

On the bright side, today I have managed to summon a creature of Lucinda. A flying tome. Unimpressive as a travelling companion, but surprisingly proving to be worthy in combat. A must, indeed, since I have begun to travel out and away from Hlint. Dangerous times require protection from friends. Mahood did not like the looks of it. He tried to bite it, once or twice, while he thought it was not looking - but it avoided him swiftly, diving down to smack him on the nose. I could not see all of it, of course, but I laughed all the same.

It is a long time since I laughed...

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

I wonder how things are going with Mother?

By my count, it should be three months since I last saw her. I keep terrible track of time, I know. But I do not take note of the days, just the passing of day and night. I can be meticulous, but not at sitting and counting the hours that tick by.

I did not tell her where my destination would be. And we did not part in the gladdest of tidings. I wonder how she feels? Hurt? Betrayed? Lonely? Angry? I almost fear to know.

Perhaps I should send a letter back to home. I would have to travel back all the way from Fort Hope, though. My wanderings outside Hlint have taken me further and further away from that place of origin. I remember that there are a few postmasters around - one in Hlint, and another in a city from which I received an errand, while following Talen Sgath. But I forgot her name...

I should return to Hlint. And send that letter - somehow.

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

Finally, returned to Hlint after a few days of travel. With Mahood and that summoned tome of Lucinda by my side, of course.

I come and go so much, that I hardly have time to see friends. Not that I have many. Good or bad, I cannot tell for sure. At the very least, I have Mahood to keep me company. He delights me with tricks, ranging from mischevious to innocent. Sometimes he pretends to trip me up. I scold him, of course, but I am sure he means me no real harm. Hopefully so...

Here I stand, then, in the General Store of Hlint. Buying some parchment and an ink pen. I feel tempted to ask the storekeeper, or perhaps someone well-skilled in scribing to write it out for me. But on the other hand... Mother would feel more secure, I think, in seeing a letter written in her own daughter's hand. Even if it were in a near-eligible scrawl.

She cannot read well. But she could always ask someone at the inn to help her. It was Godmother who taught me my letters, instead, when I was younger and shortly before the whole world when dark. In my time of recovery, she urged me to practice. I can remember now... how I resisted, how I broke the quill over my knee in fits of anger. She, as stubborn as I, would again urge me to try. And try I did.

Here goes... I am writing this now, albeit in a very shaky hand. I can hardly see the words on the parchment. Thank Lucinda it is broad daylight now. I hope that, at least, someone can make sense out of this...

Dear Mother,

All is well. Don't worry about me. Lucinda will protect. I live now in Hlint, with friends to keep me company. Nothing will befall me, that is certain. Keep everything safe and sound at home. Don't work too hard in the fields. Rest while you can. And when you have the time, would you please help me tidy up, and put some flowers on Godmother's grave? She loved the wild ones, the tiny ones that feel like felt, very small with prickly thorns that grow on the slopes just outside the village gate. I cannot remember what color they are.

Your loving daughter,
Myrrha

I will give this letter to the Postmaster now.

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

While I await a reply - if there should be any at all - I have resolved to stay more in Hlint.

It is hard to go out. Exploring, adventuring, or even fishing, outside the safety that Hlint provides is too dangerous. In the meantime, I shall sit around, alone with my thoughts, and have a good dialogue with Mahood and myself.

I wish I had more time to be involved with this world. Sometimes I ask - what is it exactly that I cannot do, when compared with others? The only regular faces I see in Hlint are that of the Captain of the Guard, the Postmaster, the owners of the Wild Surge Inn. Otherwise, things seem very busy. Each day out on the street brings new voices (easier to remember than faces, of course). People come and go. Talk of the dangers outside, the wilderness, and even Blood - whoever he may be - bring along muttered whispers, slight nods of the head, grave undertones in voices.

What is going on?

I wonder if these rumors have reached my home village. Back there, we were relatively sheltered from the outside. All we knew was our community, and the prospect of a good year's harvest, and peace. Nothing like this. This is a whole new world. I try to be friendly to the others - I realize the value of friends over foes. I smile, I greet everyone I meet. But still... I suppose that is not enough. And in some ways I feel shut out from a world that I do not belong to, limited by skills and abilities, constrained by lack of knowledge. A simple village girl cannot hope for much...

Is there hope at all? Lucinda, if You duly listen to prayers, grant me some.

I do wish Mother's letter will bring some new tidings.

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

The Postmaster says the letter will take some time to send. After all, there are wars, and rumors of wars going on... not easy to deliver messages that have to travel over long distances. Dangerous grounds and roads. Indeed. I guess I understand.

Well, no use waiting around in Hlint if that is the case. I should go out to Sielwood for a stroll or two. Accompanied by Mahood and the rest, of course. Perhaps solitude is what I need, far from standing around in a bustling little town. I must go now...

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

Well, well, well.

Life gets strange.

This night saw me waking up from sleep. And finding myself facedown in the grass outside Hlint's gates, by the Goblin Wastelands. No Mahood in sight, no flying tome either. And with no memory of how I got there. All I could remember was walking around in Sielwood, and stopping to rest... and nothing more. Queerer still was the fact that as I awoke, I found I was not alone. There stood a group of people next to me, and one bid me to quickly enter Hlint and shut the gates behind me. A tone of urgency in his voice, too. I was confused, and retreated into the safety of Hlint without a thought.

I could have sworned that something had happened, that things were different, but I did not know how. Only when I talked to some folk, I realized what happened. There had been a war. Blood, the nemesis of the world, had been killed. The world was safe - but Finola', whom I met, declined to agree with me on that point, preferring to adopt a more pessimistic view on Blood's true chances of permanent death. And of course, just like in the stories of war and glory that Godmother used to tell, every victory must come with a price.

They told me to look up at the sky. I did. I wondered what was wrong about it. Then only did I realize that there were no stars, no twinkling lights, not even hazy pinpricks of white - everything was dark, all black as the inside of Hlint's crypt. They said that this was Blood's final revenge upon us - this might be the Dark Ages, as the sky was blackened for every hour that passed. I learnt that the Druids were working on it, but...

The man who had told me to get into Hlint, the one who spoke with authority, then came to join our little party. He said that it was safe to go out now - safe as usual. Everything would be fine. But what about the stars? I miss them. And I can only wonder what catastrophe a sunless world would have to endure. But then again... I do not know what to think. So many things have happened at once. I missed tidings of the war. I woke up to find myself thrust into chaos. I do not know what else to expect now...

Lucinda, where are You? Are You out there in the darkness? Listening to us?

[Amberyl Ravenclaw]

So, now we - I, Mahood, and several stragglers who stopped by - are now sitting in silence, directly at the gates of Hlint. We talk about what we will do with our lives, now that Blood is gone and this new environment takes some getting used to. I sense an air of grimness, despite the occassional light-hearted moment, taking control of the party. Even the Captain of Hlint resumes his rounds with a stubborn, steadfast pace, never once taking his eyes off the road, not talking to us, his expression undoubtedly grim. I have lit a torch to let us see, although Vlad, a sorcerer, has cast Light spells all around. I suppose I will have to use them a little more these days.

Vlad and I leave for outside of Hlint. I suppose I will stay here and watch the dawn... just to see what happens. Mahood is having fun again, trying to bite Vlad's familiar, a little memphit by the name of Ifirit. Nothing seems to bother him. I envy him for his lack of worries, his carefree life... the way he can just yawn and not give a bother about the world and its troubles. I should try to be more like him.

Here we are. Company, then? A ranger by the feel of it. He reminds me of Talen Sgath - I wonder how he is doing now. This man says his name is Roy. Well, company is best at any time, especially during these times... I wonder how things will go now.