Home and Abroad

[Fianon]

...that´s where i am, yes.

This is going to be my diary, the diary of Fianon Brittlebow, once known as Fianon Sundance ( Who is that man? I can hardly recall nowadays...What was it like to live amongst my kin, respected and outcast at the same time? Ah well...)

The day i left Voltrex, the day i left my old life behind me, was the final pearl  on that necklace called youth. A black pearl, but they say, those are the most precious ones... It puts a smile on my face when i think of the scared youth i was, huddled in a small nutshell, leaving Voltrex like a thief in the night.And a thief i was...taking the easy road, stealing when i should have been asking, hoping for quick fame, looking for respect i hadn´t earned yet. Ah yes, i know better now.

Now i´m here. Mistone. This new world, dominated by humans.
Humans with their short lives, their hectic struggle to live, to find..what?
A sense in life, an answer to death? I don´t know. Their greatest weakness is their greatest strength. Sometimes i feel so dull and slow, when i look at my friends, picking things up on the fly, always moving and evolving.
Friends. Yes.

Who could have propably thought that i would find friends here, in the strangest of places? My first teacher was an old man, Jamey. He showed me nature as i had never seen it before. Death and rebirth, decay and growth, a never ending circle. I´ve learned so much in the few years we shared, his greatest and final lesson being his death, peaceful and content that his knowledge will live on with me. He has found immortality, cause he will live in my heart and in my memories forever, and what he showed me i will gladly share with others.

[Fianon]

It´s about time to write down some more thoughts, i think...

After Jamey´s death i wandered around aimlessly, trying to find a place in this new world that i could call my own. My journeys brought me to Port Hempstead, a busy and booming city. A city! What a sight, hundreds of people hurrying through the streets, living in stone cages they call houses, chatting and laughing, bartering and fighting...it was overwhelming. Now, almost a year gone past, i can walk the streets without feeling panicked and depressed all the time, but i still have to leave for the forests once in a while to ease my mind and remind me of what i am and where i came from.

I can still remember the people who helped me in those early days; there is Sala Stonehill, a gentle woman who told me much about the land and it´s ways.
And there is Skullcracker Headbanger, a...well, i´d never thought i would call a dwarf a friend, but i do now. A dwarf, yes. He kept me alive in the first fights i fought here and fights there were many. Beautiful as this land is, many vile creatures call it their home, goblins and giants and the terrible undead that roam the crypts and graveyards of Mistone.
Talking about Skully; it seems that i´ve lost his friendship nowadays. I dont know how this could have happen; maybe it´s in our blood, dwarves and elves don´t mix to well, maybe i´ve neglected the bond between us...i just don´t know. He accuses me and all others to hide behind his broad back, gathering fame and riches while the dwarves die for us. I´m sure i never did that, but who knows what has happened to him and who else may have failed him? My only hope is, that his strong believe in Vorax will lead him through this times of trouble safely.

There was another friend, Crizzan. We travelled this land together, both young and new to the region. We laughed and we talked, we fought and we drank..those were happy times, though i could feel pain and distress in him, i never urged him to tell me about it. As our friendship grew closer, one day he revealed his secret to me: He was of dark elven blood, a halfbred, his mother being the victim of one of those countless dark elven raids.
I was stunned; my hand was on my swordhilt before i could think and yet...
Who was i to judge,i, being a thief and a coward. I saw him suffering day by day, he was as innocent as his mother has been, before that raid. I was deeply ashamed and i told him; i implored his forgiveness and we had a long talk. I swore to myself that day, never again would i judge people by their skin or their religion; their actions are all that matters. All was well again and then some day he disappeared...I´ve never seen him again.

[Fianon]

I should have done this much earlier...there are so many people that have helped me in my early days in Mistone and i don´t want to forget just a single person, so here we go...
There´s been Shiff. Shiff Dragonheart, a capable warrior it seems. He explained to me the advantages and disadvantages of certain weaponry and fighting techniques, though in the end i had to admit, that his approach to combat cannot be mine. I was raised a hunter, fighting with a spear if i must, but focused on the bow, which would kill swift and clean from a distance.
The dirty work of hand-to-hand combat was new to me. Of course i´ve been practicing with the shortsword, the longsword and the rapier, all my people do, but hacking the enemy to death, getting splashed by all that blood, feeling the bite of your enemies blade..that was all to much for me. This was the true horror of melee, and i wanted to avoid it as long as possible. I was a fool...
Nowadays i know where my place is...behind and besides the fighters, avoiding the first contact but stepping into the fray as the need arises. My blades have served me well, and i´ve trained myself to fight certain enemies with a controlled wrath that surprises me sometimes but nevertheless kept me alive again and again. I´ve hardened, but i still tremble at the sight of a handfull of giants, roaring and foaming, or the chill touch of the living dead.
But i´v learned to control my fear and transformed it into a tool...i will survive.