Amaris - Untitled Sins

[Interia_Discordius]

The script is written in flowing Elven, the edges of the words ending in sharp, accented marks. There is something very graceful about the words, as if great care was taking in writing every letter. One could describe the diligence as obsession, although knowing her, it would be hard to label her as such.

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He called me greedy, a tainted soul. Truly, what is greed, and what would a Toranite such as him know of it? He denies it, even if it rules him, and upholds the hypocritical views of the righteous god and keeps his nose up in the air.

He should know better than that. Tilting your head so far back will only win you a very sharp run-in with a wall or a hostile creature. He should know better than that...The armor was not for me to begin with. It was for Fmeaniram.

Fmeaniram, Amras, follows along, as silent as when we first arrived. I ponder what flits through his mind. He is a smart man, therefore his thoughts are interesting and worthwhile, yet I do not question. Our decades stay in Arnax has changed us, some better, some worse. The reflection of pain in his eyes at the Lake of Glass proved he clings on to the past we were torn so harshly out from.

I do not want to put him through the hurt that could resurface from my questioning. The past is as it is. Passed.

The people of Mistone here are peaceful despite the skies and the famine. They are ignorant, or perhaps uncaring. I am unsure. It is as it is despite the reasons, however, and their apathy causes my eyes to narrow with disdain. Why do they feel they are above each other as mere humans? They chase their dreams and die shortly after, a star that hardly has time to leave a mark.

And most do not leave even a dust speckle of their so-called glorious lives in the large scheme of things. I cannot see why they do this. If they only controlled their ambitions, mastering themselves, they could use their newfound self to bring a true change that they crave for.

Everyone wants the credit for themselves. That is why this cannot happen.

I am learning. I have learned to veil my aloof and disapproving nature into thin smiles and intellectual suggestions. They do not need to know my ingrained dislike for any race besides my own. They do not need to know my god is the Mad God Himself. I cannot spread his will when there is a name. No, people listen more when they do not know what they are learning. They simply call me wise in return. A fair exchange, as the praise is to Him.

The codes are appealing to the humans...Dominating the animal instinct of fear that, despite how high above the feral beasts we are in the chains of life, we still are plagued with. I am spreading Corath's words, but at the same time, I do it to help the people also. Why should I allow them to chase their tails with pointless lies when I can help enlighten them as the priests did me?

My words are not meant to bring sorrow or pain, insanity or lies. My words are meant to bring a new era of adventuring. When one is not dominated, one will shine. You must master yourself before you should dream to do a thing different.

I feel I am taking this in a way most Corathites do not, but that is fine. I never did see the need of the hatred and rage they so eagerly take part in. With their extreme, there would be no world.

Perhaps I am still standing as guardian. Perhaps I have not completely failed the self I once was. Perhaps it has evolved into something that can uphold the balance the world truly requires to continue turning.

Perhaps I am still Self.

[Interia_Discordius]

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Bravery is the thin line between foolhardy sacrifices and the high of emotions. The Vorax-worshipping sibling fools shouted and fought the three dark creatures of the Abyss as if they knew what bravery was. I scoff. They know nothing of bravery. They and the others killed over half of the rest of the idiotic team while waving around banners titled Hero that they, in truth, know nothing of.

Heroism is more than killing the enemy. It is defending those that stand by you. The one I had chosen as frontlining leader had called for retreat, and they took part in none of it.

Thus, death's cold hands and the Mother's enchanting smile took them as their own.

That is not courage. That is not righteous. That is downright stupidity. The Balance served. Dominated by fear and the other emotions, they fell. Corath was correct in his codes. Failure, weakness, any that show the flaw of human spirit become instant targets in the eyes of the enemy.

Such is not tolerated, neither by the the Black Sun or by the Self.

The teachings of attaining undeath has touched interest. I seek not undeath in undead, but the true undeath, where immortality is achieved. I believe undeath can be found without becoming zombie, like those that I fight in the Gloomwoods.

I must seek more, both within the lore of this world and the confines of my own mind.

My brother follows my path. I do not wish to bring harm to him, but I will mention my devotion to the Mad God. He will find strength within His law, but I will not force it.

Influence is not to be forced. Wise is the praise to Him.

[Interia_Discordius]

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Those that speak of the emotion called love leaves me puzzled. I do not necessarily believe in love, I only believe in the simple need to continue the race of the two-legged intelligence.

There is no emotional bond there. Allowing such an emotional bond would be weakness. Family is a different matter. My brother does not count in this particular writing. I speak of finding a stranger of the opposite gender and deciding there is something more there than what is required for survival.

I only will search for a man for the simple need I have mentioned above. He will be strong, clever, and swift. His personality can be put aside, as can mine. Sacrifices are made. The end result is well enough.

No preference. Only survival. I have met only one who has seemed sufficient enough.

For the sake of the world of Layonara, I hope to find more who I can call sufficient enough.

[Interia_Discordius]

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I have observed an interesting exchange between Man and Woman whilst meditating by the pond near Hempstead.

Forgiveness, marriage, love, closure. Who seeks such? To ask permission for another to assist mending a broken soul is to show your very weakness, and as I told her not to show such when Man had parted, she replied as if she had not shown any such thing.

Weakness is wretched, Woman agreed. A chuckle could be had at that. A Rofirein agreeing with the views of the Corath...Perhaps they are as vile as some take them to be. Perhaps she is just clever.

Perhaps she and I are not quite the opposites after all. Her anger interested me when she was speaking with Man. I watched. I learned. I wondered.

Marriage and love. I questioned her if it were boon or bane, and she spoke as if she understood where I was speaking from. A mistake. A human would never understand the ways of a gray elf.

My true wish was for her to realize her foolishness in partaking of love and this so-called righteous justice that, in truth, is no different from one such as I. I am unsure if she was enlightened. I believe I have placed a seed within her, however. I will tend to it carefully.

I am more convinced that love and the binding made by marriage is a festering wound for which an enemy to pour salt upon. The need for another is the bane. The strength together and simply that is the boon.

If one would simply put aside one's emotions, one's desires, and obey their true reason for walking upon Layonara, they would not need ambition. Power and knowledge would come to them.

I do not believe in Love. I believe in Teamwork.

The one named Steel has proved his strength. I will remain by his side until comes the day we part. I will cast my spells upon him for his protection, and he will be the devastating force against the enemies which we battle. A fair exchange.

His silence is like that of Amras. It is more tolerable compared to the never-ending noise and views created by others. I simply ask him which enchantments, and he responds with when to cast. A fair exchange.

Speech is not necessary.

[Interia_Discordius]

This particular page seems to be put together in a rather note-taking rush, as if in the middle of business. The words are hastily written, yet there is no ink smear or blot. The writer still takes great care in keeping her things together and clean despite whatever hurry she was in.

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Shadow Shrieker
- Not demon, not shadow. More of slave.
- Created to devour magic.
- Hunts by sound. If holding still, is not prone to attack.
- Weakness to positive magics, divine, healing. The holy.
- Its shriek can deafen and cause even eardrums to bleed.
- Prefers the night but hunts just as well in day.
- Is too intelligent to be fooled easily.

The Fox Bounty Hunter
- Shadowdancer
- Hunts the shadow shriekers
- Has not spoken to my knowledge. Uses parchment to communicate.
- Skilled and intelligent.

Steel
- Has requested to learn Elven in exchange for lore and information.
- Seems to hold a further request for the future - Request Unknown
- Blue-skinned
- Refuses to remove his helm - Stated reason as "Not to scare the children"
- Relaxes and speaks normally in Leringard Arms
- Holds interest in Abyssal "artifacts"
- Constantly mines silver

Tiefling Male
- Arrogant but knowledgable.
- Has obvious signs of the Abyssal blood - Tail, hiss, perhaps fangs or some other physical deformity to cause speech difficulties
- Speaks mostly in the Planar Cant
- Has many signs of necromancy, shadow, and Abyssal magics
- Holds a significant interest in any creatures outside of the prime plane
- Is able to participate in normal human functions of kindness
- Holds to word

[Interia_Discordius]

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There are posters speaking of unjust done by the supposedly justly gods. My views are surprisingly unsure of this. Pain and suffering are abundant despite the times, and speaking that those fortunate assisting the less being arrogant is foolish. Those "dripping with their jewels and gems" have no need to assist, and the very idea of slandering the names of "giving" people is merely creating a grave for the self. If the self is dependent, at the least.

They are creating a mindset where famine and oppression is their weapons. You cannot create strength from weakness. The only thing that can be created is insanity and chaos. Would Corath accept such a pathetic gift made by those who are to die? Is a gift of what he preaches acceptable from the thing he teaches against?

Many questions. I will find their answers.

[Interia_Discordius]

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I despise the weakness people show through their arrogant speeches. They sit on high horses, ignoring the weak legs they are supported upon, and shout and screech on topics that have no interest to anyone but themselves.

Humans disgust me. They chase their ambitions to nowhere and find nothing when they reach their goals. They flit from dream to dream as if each meant little, and their undying hope for a future change is childish. They are naive. I feel I am handling the youth when attempting a conversation with them.

I am uncertain of charging into battles by their side. I prefer strategy over brute strength. Complete and utter destruction is acceptable when one holds the power for it, yet I have yet to see anyone capable enough to be trusted.

I have held off on true fighting because of this. I do not enjoy casting on those I only know the name of...

My wait will continue in Dalanthar until I meet again the one named Steel.

[Interia_Discordius]

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Steel spoke of his interest in the ways of the Weave. Such talk would raise a distasteful laugh from one such as myself, yet I have faith in the strange creature who goes by the name of a cold, ruthless metal. The Weave is the weapon of the mind and soul, and both in his form have proved sharp.

I told him of this, yet he did not agree. Modesty, or uncertainty? Neither is regarded as boons to me. They are weaknesses. One should take pride when others compliment and praise. It is, after all, one's own work that earned such silvery tongues from the others.

But I do not care to spend hours considering his personality. I am his teacher, not his psychologist. I am not here to pick apart who he is, but simply to teach him my ways. An easy task. Teach, understand, and continue on with what he in turn repays me with.

A fair exchange.

Yet the quirks of my own Self are questionable...This sudden interest in other beings other than myself and my brother. Perhaps I am weak from the loss of Amras. He left no body, and simply faded away into the darkness of this world of Layonara.

Most likely dead, or wandered too far into the world to which he cannot return. He should have continued following me like he had done.

No matter...The Mad God works in His own ways, and this is another test for my brother, deceased or not, and myself.

I will not fail. I will become something useful and powerful in the eyes of Corath, and He will be pleased.

I expect nothing less of myself.

[Interia_Discordius]

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It is not often that I write in here. It is more a way to continue my thoughts, my views.

Steel has insisted payment for my assistance. Perhaps I considered too much, but nevertheless, he is but a coworker. It is a shame he is not of my kind. He would have been more useful.

He reminds me of Amras in his ways, yet Amras held shreds of humanity in his soul.

I consider still what ever occurred to my brother, despite my cold statements that his death was simply another death.

I am the last gray elf. I am unsure if I take pride in that.