Andrew's Songbook

[RollinsCat]

Songman,

Seems like Jetta would make an excellent Dread Blade, not like that means anything good, though. Dread Blades have a charming knack for being untrustworthy in general, if dependable. Keep an eye on her. And try to make sure she doesn't poke her nose in my business, especially by trying to spy on us or by working for some crook in Co'rys. I don't want to have to erase her from history.

Harduach? Doesn't sound familiar, but I know the Arms used to be stewarded by a skald called Hardagh. He was a Mistie and married to, or whatever they'd call it, to the Bard of Leringard Kali, another Misty and fortune teller who also ran the Arms a while back. Steel would know more about them, because I've never seen them around the Arms. Or you could also pick my father's brain.

I'll be staying at the Tower, as usual. Don't be gone too long.

Nightshade



Blossom.

Autumn took Ty for a walk and she knows I'm headed out by the time she returns. I'm due in Lor (I still need to talk to you about that).

I'm in need of some information in the mean time, however. First - Jetta is more mercenary than even I guessed and we'd do well not to trust her. Her youth and inexperience are the only things holding her back from being truly dangerous and time has a funny way of fixing that. I caught her flat-footed in two lies, one atop the other, and she's been selling information about me.

I didn't sleep with her so stop making that face.

I was able to coax out of her that the person behind the information collection is a Haudrach or Hadrag or something like that. She did not give a description. Do you know of anyone by that name? It teases the back of my recollection but won't go any further so I turn to you, my Nightshade, in hopes you can satisfy this intellectual itch.

If you do know who it is, don't confront them, as I'd like to play along and see what's going on. Practice that tight-lipped discretion I so often lament and we can discuss it when I return.

Also, I found a cobbler who can make thigh-high boots. Sure you won't wear a pair? Just around the tower?

Annoyingly yours,


Andrew

[RollinsCat]

A little something for Willie to sing.  How to get Tyra on board with a concert tour?

Hearts and flowers loves songs never tell it straight
Books all end with happy ever after with your mate
But one or ten or twenty when you're bored with what's on your plate
I can't do that, baby
I can't do that

I ain't faithful
I don't commit
I'm too wild at heart to even think of it
Before things get crazy and the flesh begins to hit
I ain't faithful
I don't commit

You wonder what your man got up to when he's gone a lot?
Ain't just business, baby, or at least not the kind you thought
You can sit around hand-wringin' and bein' all distraught
Or we can do that, baby
We can do that

What's wrong with lovin' someone who'd holdin' another hand
It don't mean I'm the cad they say
Loyalty and affection don't need a wedding ring
Being faithful is far deeper than "never stray..."

You want the fantasy, sugar, then you gotta look elsewhere
If you want white picket fences and a daily love declared
But if you want some passion and a wild love affair
Well, I can do that, babe
I can do that

I ain't faithful
I don't commit
I'm too wild at heart to even think of it
Before things get crazy and the flesh begins to hit
I ain't faithful
I don't commit

[RollinsCat]

*something is written here then scribbled out, then re-written and scribbled out, then finally - *

Thank you, my Muse.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.

[RollinsCat]

At a farm in the hills on the outskirts of Lor, a small dwarven figure sits mesmerized on a corral fence, watching as a small sea of horses flow past one another within the confines of the fencing.  At the center of this current, a large gray stallion prances back and forth, creating new eddies each time he changes direction.

For the moment, the words of her human companion, who would be sure to turn heads of his own with his well clipped beard and tight pony tail, are lost to her.

With the approach of two human females, the sound of their familiar banter brings the dwarf's attention reluctantly back.  They are contrasts, one in heavy armor bearing a substantial blade, the other lightly dressed with the finest of weapons; both full of poise.

"Hello!" Argali beamed like a child at gift-giving to Angela and Sasha.  "They are the magnificent, no?"  

The horses continued to roll past one another at the far end of the corral.

"Zis iz Misterr 'James Standish'," her emphasis for the benefit of the current company.  Remembering herself, she makes the introductions.  "Misterr Standish, zis iz the Counzillorr Swann of the Lor Diet, and Marshal Tomyris, commander of the forrces of Lor.  She turns back to Angela and Sasha.  "It iz by the efforrts of the Misterr Standish that we arre now having the beginnings of the cavalry.  Mmm... We will now be needing the help of the horrse talkerrs to be making the horrses rideable, no?"  She seemed to add the last remark to a mental list of things to do.

James straightens as the ladies approach, giving a military-proper bow to each.  He smiles his customary closed-lip smile but there is a sparkle, a burbling joy, glowing from inside his nearly black eyes.  A high-necked black top with white frog closures is snug on his lean chest; plain black pants vanish at the knees into well-made leather and metal half-greaves.

"Councilor Swann, Marshal Tomyris, a pleasure to finally meet you."  His baritone is clipped by a precise Corsainian accent and he puts one hand over his heart as he addresses them.  "Captain Trueaxe requested I make a report to you in person about how we came into the possession of these animals."

He steps a few feet left of Argali so the Marshal and Councilor can stand between them and get a good view of the horses.  He allows a few moment's silence, hands behind his back and posture at parade rest, while they look the animals over.

"I was keeping my ear open for possibilities since the good Captain here expressed a desire for cavalry grade horses."  He hand opens briefly toward Argali.  "While in the process, I heard a story about a pirate, Silver the Lucky.  This was just a sailor's tale about the 'pirate that got away', but the sailor did know that this pirate was also a horse trainer with a passion for the animals."

He pauses and looks over the corral, his eyes following the huge stallion at the heart of the herd.  He rests one hand on the fence.  "I followed the story around the docks and was finally told by an old salt that I'd find Silver in Audira.  I obtained the services of a scout and traveled there, thinking to try and bargain for some well-trained animals.  As I am no longer a naval captain, arresting the man for past crimes was out of the question.  But a sum of True for a legitimate pursuit, I thought, might make him less inclined to rob for his gold.  Or it was worth the attempt if I could also get good horses out of it."

He remains James, despite his and Argali's discussion over revealing to Sasha and Angela the truth about his identity.  He knows they know and yet his accent, his posture, his choice of words remain that of a former Rohdem naval captain now retired.  He does this deliberately, so they can assess the difference between this man and the easygoing, flirtatious, talkative bard they have both already met.  So they can judge his competence.

"My scout, an elf who goes by Shadowleaf, was invaluable and very skilled.  We arrived at Audira without a scratch and without having to raise commotion through a fight.  We combed the city looking for the man and found none such by the name until a young woman directed us to a recent grave; it seems Silver had passed from our mortal coil before I could attempt to dissuade him of his ignoble career."

His voice rises and falls in emphasis, the cadence of the experienced storyteller although he's trying not to be.  From deep inside an inner ear joins his outer ones to listen to the Heartsong and tailor the story, heightening emotional highs, deepening lows.  He cannot help it.

"The headstone was engraved, which is unusual; most pirates do not want their graves marked least their mortal remains are disturbed by the angry and vengeful.  But his was and said only this: 'Here lies Silver, pirate, horse trainer of Vanavar.  May his horse forever roam free'."

He turns toward them, running a thumb over his silken black mustache a few times.  "I am not a man given to haring off on wild adventures."  This is stated plainly and with a quiet sincerity that is completely at odds with the gleeful sparkle in his eyes.  He lets the irony soak in for a few moments.  "But I do know that a trained animal let free might attract a herd, or be attracted to one.  My scout was willing and so I paid our passage to North Hampton where we provisioned and started searching.

"On the plains past the haven of the city we were waylaid by bandits and Shadowleaf was killed. He is stonebound and so was waiting when I staggered, bleeding, back into the gates of the city.  We decided then to look for reinforcements."  He reaches to stroke his mustache and beard again, then forces his hand down and resumes a parade rest.

"Deliar smiled upon us and a young woman, human but with some elven blood by the delicate bones of her face and the tips of her ears, arrived from Audira.  She called herself Annwyl; she is a fighter of great competence and we were able to recruit her.  Let me add here that she refused all compensation that I offered but she did ask that her name be mentioned to you, Captain Trueaxe; she has been keeping an eye on Lor's activities and wishes to contribute. I believe..."  He chances a full, dimpled smile to the women "...that I can find her again should you wish to speak with her."

The smile is smoothed away from his naval captain's face.  "Our combined efforts got us as far as the cliffs toward the southern part of the island but we had to return when we found a powerful drake in residence along the path.  We returned to North Hampton to rest and reprovision, and Annwyl sent messages to friends of her to come aid us.  We settled in to wait.  During that time I was able to learn much about Silver the Lucky, including that his mistress, not the man's wife, was the one who released his horse and paid for the headstone.  That is a story for another time, though.

"Annwyl's friends arrived; one Argos Stargazer, who sends regards to you, Captain."  He gives Argali a short bow on the man's behalf.  "A young woman named Rory, who did not give a last name, but without her tracking and animal skills we would not have succeeded; and young woman with a flair for sword work who called herself Dot.

"After introductions and their valid concern about my abilities -- I am, after all, only a sailor at heart and not terribly skilled in sword play -- we set out.  I will spare you the details save we fought group after group of bandits and thieves and other scum until we came to a camp of the most difficult concentration of highwaymen yet.  The stallion was some distance from them with the herd nearby.

"Rory charmed the animal and we brought him back to North Hampton.  The rest of his herd followed and we captured most of them.  I compensated those who assisted, and paid for the transport of the animals back here. And here we are."

He smiles at them again, close-lipped, and looks over the herd.  "These are a gift for Lor. I only ask one thing; that they all be given plenty of room to run when they are not being trained.  Especially the stallion.  That is a request from Rory, who seemed very close to the animal while we were making the long trek back."

He looks back at the three women and gives another formal Corsain bow.  "That is my report, Marshal, Councilor.  What questions or suggestions might you have of me?"

Sasha blinks after James finishes his lengthy report then covers her mouth with her hands to conceal a grin.  She coughs as if clearing her throat and glances askance at both Argali and Angela before turning back to James.

"You have done an outstanding job young man, you have the thanks of the city.  These are good horses, they will make fine light cavalry.  We still need to acquire suitable mounts for a heavy infantry force.  I think they will be an elite force.  We might be able to convince people in the city to sponsor them in order to cover some of the costs.  They won't be cheap but any army relies heavily on Heavy Cavalry to break up opposing enemy forces.  If..and I mean if, we ever have to face certain dwarves on the battle field from up north, we will regret never having had heavy cavalry of that I can assure you.  Especially since that will give us an advantage over them.  If ever things come to that..."

Angela smiles and nods to James after he finished his report, then whispers quietly out of the side of her mouth to Argali and Sasha.  "Remind me never to ask for a full report from that one."

She clears her throat.  "My personal thanks as well as that of our city, Sasha is correct, you've done an outstanding job and Lor may now see its first cavalry since it was founded because of you."  She turns her attention back to Argali and Sasha.  "I will leave the breaking of the horses in your capable hands Sasha, however once the ground training is finished I suggest that we take the army of Prantz up on their offer to train with them."

Argali bristles almost audibly upon hearing; Angela grins slightly at the sour expression.  

"Two reasons for that, first off then they have the experience we lack in training them and second and the most important reason.  Not long ago Sasha said not to plan out of fear for if the dog will bite or not, I agree to that.  That doesn't mean we should lie down and expose our neck either, but if the cavalry should sometime in the future end up having to protect Lor from the dog.  Then wouldn't we be better off with first-hand knowledge of their tactics and equipment?"

Argali stares a deep, penetrating stare, not believing her ears.  "It zeems too many people arre thinking they can lie down with the dogs and not be waking up with the fleas.  Or the maiden lying in the zame bed with the lecher and keeping herr virtue.

"You arre miztaken if you arre thinking you can be zending the neophyte riderrs to be learrning frrom the enemy and not be indoctrinated by theirr instrruction, coerced into theirr way of thinking, becoming parrt of them.  You would have to be zending the zeasoned riderrs forr zuch a task, and Lorr has none.  Do not be risking the newly forrmed bud to the bitter cold of the winter's breath.

"If Sasha needs the help, Argali will find the horrse talker to be making the horrses fit forr the riding, without the brreaking of anything."  Subconsciously, her feet have shifted to be squarely planted into the ground.  "As for the making the cavalry, Argali will find the alternative forr that, too."  She looks briefly to James before meeting Angela and Sasha's eyes again.

James moves in a bit and lowers his voice, pitching it for the ears of the ladies present only.

"There are two that I know whom we could contact, Captain Trueaxe.  One is Ysgraine Ursis, a woman with a talent for animals who has helped me with my own horse.  And another, although I'd suggest you keep her in a separate room from Ysgraine -" A brief, bitter smile "- is my sister, Aya Reid.  She owned many horses before her circumstances changed.  Either is a good start to riding.  This won't solve the battle training issue but it can get horses and riders comfortable with each other in the meantime."  He strokes a thumb over his upper lip.

"I can contact either woman for you if you wish.  And I will work on finding cavalry trainers for you as well."  He favors Sasha and Angela with a slight smile and amused eyes.  "I trust that was brief enough?"

Sasha turns to James.  "I have the knowledge but alas not the time. I remember this Ygraine as somewhat flighty and unreliable.  If worse comes to worse I can call in a few favours I think from Hilm.  Perhaps convince the Master of Horse to take a holiday for a while in Lor."

Glancing to Angela, Argali nods at Sasha's remark, and then addresses Andrew.  "Mmm... Perrhaps zis Rory would alzo be interrested in making the horrzes ridable, particularrly him."  She looks back to the large grey still kicking up dust.  "Mmm... Therre is morre than enough worrk forr all thrree horrze talkerrs, no?  They may even be able to learrn frrom each otherr."

Sasha muses for a moment.  "I don't know this person...what are their credentials and recommendations?"

James addresses Angela and Sasha, again pitching his voice for them and Argali alone.  "Rory is a lady Andrew has known for some time, although James only just met her.  I believe Argos Stargazer is a close friend of hers; she is not flighty but very levelheaded, but there is the question as to whether she'd want to train a warhorse.  I will find out.  I will withdraw the suggestion of my sister on that thought as she's not war-minded.  I still think Ysgraine would be a good choice but I'll leave that to you to decide."

He leans in a little.  "I agree with Argali regarding sending a fledgling cavalry to train with Prantz.  However, a compromise - if intelligence is what you want - is to send a select group, the most loyal to Lor?  Perhaps this elite force you spoke of, when the destriers are obtained?"

Sasha suddenly looks sternly at James.  "This isn't a game or some fun training some horses.  This is a deadly serious business here.  We sit on a precipice of danger.  Men and woman will lose their lives if these horses are not trained suitably for war.  Make no mistake about that.  So...friends and family who 'might' be alright are not good enough.  We need the best to train these animals for exactly what they will be needed for."  Her icey blue eyes and crisp commanding tone brook no argument.

He stiffens and his face smooths to neutral. His baritone is firm when he speaks. "It was not my intent to play games, Milady. I do know what is at stake; that is why I'm here. But it has been mentioned to me that Lor could use more involvement from those with the abilities and wherewithal to bolster it, and so I make suggestions to that end."

Argali frowns somewhat.  "Mmm... She was hoping that the use of the horrze talkerrs would make forr the betterr rezults than the otherr methods of 'brreaking horrze in'. Once horrze iz rideable, then it can begin the trraining forr the cavalrry, hopefully with the inztrructorr frrom Hilm. Rememberr, trraining the cavalrry iz as much about trraining the riderr as iz trraining the horrze. We arre ztarrting frrom the beginning in both.

"Alzo, be awarre, ourr firrst attempts arre likely to prroduce the zo-called 'light' cavalrry. As we arre getting the morre experrience, then, hopefully, we arre producing the medium cavalrry. And, then, one day, we prroduce the heavy cavalrry forr Lorr.

"Iz somewhat ironic that Lorr iz founded by the famous horrze riding twins, and yet we arre having to be ztarrting frrom the scratch to be making the cavalrry."

Angela plays with a lock of hair listening to the arguments both from Argali's ranting towards Prantz and to the ideas to who to train the horses.  She turns first to James to address his idea.

"So one thing at a time, Rory is welcome to aid in the training as well as any other druid you can dig up.  However make it clear to them that their going to train war horses not riding horses, that means the horse must be willing to leap over a spear wall and get close to armored men fighting not to mention they must be trained to not run from magic unleashed.  If their heart isn't for that then we will have no use for them."

She can't help but to smile slightly as she turns her head towards Argali.

"As for lying with the dogs then yourself said it, we have no experience people, we have no experienced trainers either.  Our people need to learn and I'm fully aware of the risk of them forming bonds, that being said then our force is still small and that means we can pick people with strong loyalty.  People that are unlikely to break but still smart enough to see the advantage of learning the traits of Prantzs cavalry.  If you want to then compare it to battle, is a soldier better of studying under a necromancer for a short time to gain basic knowledge?  Does the mere knowledge means he turned evil?  I would say yes to the first and no to the second.  Some might be lost but it is a risk we have to take, and on top of their training with Prantz then I plan on sending them off to Fenrir's Academy after.  Since it's finished we might as well make use of it, and if anyone can beat love of Rael out of a group of recruits it's Fenrir."

Argali gives Angela a dubious look.  "Mmm... Yourr analogy iz not correct. You arre not zending them to fit against the necromancerr, but with him.  And iz not blood chilling, repluzive death worrker, but warrior who looks like them and zounds like them whom they arre having to learrn frrom.  The opportunity forr bonding iz much, much grreaterr.

"We arre at the forrmative stage.  We cannot risk the 'losing the zome' without casting the pall overr all the furrtherr efforrts.  Therre arre other cavalries, better cavalries to learrn frrom.  Hilm forr the instance.  Zend them to Masterr Fenrrir firrst.  He will instill into them what it iz to be the prroperr warrior.  Iz bud we arre trrying to grrow.  The bud forr Lor.  It needs to be prrotected."

Angela sighs deeply, having stared at the horses for some time.  "Trust me, the irony isn't lost on me.  If Lor had kept an active army and cavalry then maybe the situation today would have looked different.

"Ah well, no use crying over split milk as mother always used to say.  Druids, trainers from Hlim or anywhere else we can dig them up, let's go for the best.  Same with the men; let's put more though the basic training than we have horses to, make it a privilege to join and give them the chance to earn it among their peers.

"All members of the army, the beacons and the guards will be giving the chance to attend basic training at Fenrir's Academy, like with the beacon then lets rotate between the different orders and keep Lor safe while we breed the best soldiers in Layonara.  Hmm...on that note, I want to make a small elite unit so pick the best from the army and I'll arrange for them to receive more intensive training from the academy.

She speaks briskly.  "To sum up.  Find trainers, but appoint a commander for them someone with experience in warhorses, he or she can pick the best from the others and hopefully create a deeper bound between our riders and their horses.  A rotation plan for the troops; let's get everyone through a basic training at the academy.  Pick out an elite unit to receive extensive training at the academy."

A brief pause, then; "As a little side note to that then be on the look out for people showing talent towards manipulation the Al'Noth, if possible then I would like to train casters to support the army.  Either with Spellgard or the Arcane Alliance in Hempstead...hmm or I'll ask Alantha and Storold."

She taps her chin, considering if she remember everything.  "One last thing, I agree on that the cavalry will be fragile and they will need to harden.  But once their basic training is over they will be send to train with Raels troops as well.  The opportunity is simply to great to ignore."

Sasha surveys the horses with a critical eye for a time then nods finally.  "Sounds good. Lets get it happening."  She turns to James.  "Well done Master Standish, Captain."  She nods to Argali and bows politely to Angela.  "Councilor, if you will excuse me I need to see about the company finishing the construction of the stables."

[RollinsCat]

*A reply comes some time later.  It is written on rather ordinary parchment in an iridescent, deep blue ink, and the hand seems hurried but legible*

Andrew,

It is good to hear from you, and we were glad to meet you in Krandor these weeks prior. It sounds as if things are going well for you.

It pleases us both that you are finding such enthusiasm in your pursuit. It sounds as if your efforts are bearing fruit and it is always a treat to meet one with such avid interest and dedicated pursuit with regards to Magic.

Should your travels take you near Krandor, we would welcome a visit and perhaps more talk of Illusion over a meal.  Until then, continue to practice and seek your balance. Your focus will help you hold your illusions, but the most convincing and vivid results will be a matter of memory and imagination.  Find what works for you, and work to improve that.

In Magic and Balance,
Connor and Anna




*in neat italic script, black ink on fine paper*

Connor and Anna
147 Krandor
Krandor
Kingdom of Brelin
Mistone

Milord, Milady.  I cannot thank you enough for the instruction that you offered me.  I have practiced each night since we sat around that table trading stories; simple shapes, as you suggested, with an emphasis on focusing and maintaining.

It is focus that remains the issue.  I'm not sure how much you know about me but I have a lengthy past with substance use and abuse.  The use part I still indulge in, most infrequently now, but the abuse I have corked forever.  Or so I fervently hope and work to make true one day at a time.

It remains though that I'm not untouched, or so I suspect, from what seemed like harmless frivolity decades ago and thus sitting still for long periods trying to focus in a way to make things appear is most difficult.  Even now I was just practicing with a cube and felt a sudden and overwhelming urge to sit and write, one I obeyed without thinking.  It never crossed my mind until just now that behavior is not helping my practice.

Forgive the ramble, I am going somewhere with this.

While traveling home recently I happened across a mutual friend of ours, Miss Jaelle, and she was happy to give me a lesson as well.  She was able to lift some of the burden of concentration from me as we sat and this gave my imagination free rein to create.  What an experience, to make a moving picture, to really paint with magic as my canvas!  I was enthralled and so I will continue to work on visual illusions and I do hope you and your lady will consider continuing to teach me.  I accept my grasp of visual illusion will never be that of a master but it is far too useful, and far too fun, to give up.

However (my point coming up here) after our flight of fancy with the magic Jaelle had a good question for me.  Why did I start this way?  Meaning, why did I begin with visual illusions?  A very good question indeed.  I have never been visual aside from the occasional bout of drawing fervor.  In fact, I don't see that well; age isn't helping matters and I use spectacles more often than not these days.

I could only tell her that since most of the illusions I've experienced are visual, nothing else occurred to me.  However, since she mentioned it, and despite our exhaustion at having spent so much time on the making of magic, I immediately pressed into attempting the illusion of sound.

I was able to do so and much quicker than anything I'd tried previously.  In fact the music was so easy to "hear" in my mind - it's how I think anyway - that I was able to illusion a little piece of violin right away.  I'm not sure how to describe it.  It wasn't illusion to me, or it didn't seem like it, more an extension of my mind...although the sound was ghostly and not at all like a real instrument, and my focus wasn't any better, only the ease of my execution.

Regardless, you cannot imagine my excitement.  What worlds have just opened up to me?  What vistas of sound, if I can aspire to make music with myself?  By the Muse I'm getting tingly just writing this.  I have added music to my practice and have tried both illusions at the same time but that is beyond me at the moment.

Being able to make sounds with my magic, however.  I am thrilled and eagerly awaiting my next lesson.  I hope it will be with the two of you.


Yours in the Muse,



Andrew Reid

[RollinsCat]

To: Edgar Whinessy
c/o The Resonance of Being
Port Hempstead Municipal District
Port Hemstead
Kingdom of Brelin
Mistone

Conductor Whinessy, hello again!  I hope this letter finds you well.  I have been caught up in teaching for some time and have been unable to visit but I hope we can sit and discuss the transferrence of knowledge sometime; I have much to learn, as an instructor.

I am sad to report no response from Lady Hommel.  I have written but the good woman appears to be on an extended absence, to my great loss.  I will continue to hope that she returns home but in the meantime, I wish to share some new developments in sound I've experienced.

First, my experiments in manipulating the Heartsong have remained sporadically successful.  I am still unsure of what I'm doing, if anything, and I cannot reproduce the effect consistently.

What I can do - I hadn't thought about this consciously until rather recently - is listen to the Heartsong as I perform or otherwise use my voice, and moderate my expression to the emotional feedback.  It gives me a slight edge at times beyond reading the vocal and body language clues of my audience and I've come to rely on it, sometimes in preference to my flesh and blood ears.  Certainly more than what my eyes tell me.

So that remains an area for improvement.  Something new has captivated my attentions recently however and I'd like your opinions on it.

I have wanted to learn illusion for some time and have had the astounding luck of finding not one but three teachers.  I have been dabbling in visual illusion, which is enjoyable, but on the advice of one of my teachers I have begun to apply my methods (which involve singing the spells anyway) to illusionary sound.

It's amazing to me, to make sound without opening my lips, without picking up an instrument or even moving my hand.  Well, that's not entirely true, I do have to sing the spell and move my fingers.  Still - it is the most exciting thing since I joined the Resonance.

I have spent every night practicing these new arts and that practice has brought with it questions, many of them, some of which I will need to go to Spellgard to find answers for and some I wish to pose to you.  For example; an illusionary picture, say a vase, is illusion because if you wave a hand through it, it does not "exist".  But is verification by the senses a form of proof of existence?  It can be argued that since the object cannot affect its surroundings, it is illusion, but then again illusions can kill - I have seen it, lived it, died to it - and that is, in my view, an effect.

With these sounds I am "illusioning" the same question applies only more so.  Sound hits our ears and causes vibrations that we hear.  Most sounds work in this way (I am allowing differences for those sounds that are so high or deep that they are "heard" through the skin and organs more than the ears).  If I am singing a spell and focusing my concentration into movements of my fingers, and I hear the strings of my violin, am I hearing it?  Am I focusing air into vibrations by force of will, or is it something else entirely?  And does the Resonance have any equipment or specialists in this area?

I'm interested in this greatly and all the possibilities it offers.  I believe it is an area of research I'd like to pursue within the Resonance if it is something that has room for discovery.  Can illusionary sound affect the Heartsong?  I would think that it can, if it creates an emotional state in the listener.

Many questions, those are but a few.  I hope my excitment shines through and I hope to discuss this as an avenue for research.  I look forward to your response, Conductor, and our next meeting.

Also, sir.  Forgive me if this sounds strange but have any others of us who live in harmony with the Heartsong experienced disturbing dreams, perhaps involving horrid sounds such as screaming interspaced with total and complete silence?  If your time is such that you cannot respond to my postulations above, even a short note regarding the dream question would be greatly appreciated.

Yours in our Muse,


Andrew Reid

[RollinsCat]

A Lady stood beside a bed, a boy there fast asleep
Brushed a hand across his cheek while he was dreaming deep
From Her loving touch was born a song inside his soul
A sound
A joy
Wrapped around his world

He heard the world
From a wooden framed window
He heard the world
A child's heart aglow
He heard the world
Passion's ringing melody
He heard the world and he would never be the same

The child was pulled to manhood inside a god's eyeblink
And given by Ilsare a muse to drive him to the brink
From that storm of love music twined around his soul
A song
A siren
Set fire to his world

He heard the world
From a stone tower window
He heard the world
Life's ebb and flow
He heard the world
Emotion's crescendo
He heard the world and he would never be the same

This gift that he'd been chasing
This song inside of him
The things he'd heard and wished he could express
His Lady led him to the path
That broke the barnyard door
And set him free to hear the Heartsong's bless

Now that man can hear the world just by listening
The sweetness of his Lady's voice every time he starts to sing
From a child searching for the chorus of his soul
That sound
That joy
Is the center of his world

He hears the world
The voice of his Goddess
He hears the world
The joys and the distress
He hears the world
The song of experience
He hears the world, and he will never be the same

[RollinsCat]

Deer Andrew,

You said I should write a letter to you for praktise. I will write a bout sum of the things I have dun lately. I have maid sum new cloeths. You seamed to like the set you saw. I have been trying to maik sum new lethers too. It takes lots of salt to kuer skins and maik lether. Asids and oyls too. It is kosting me lots of Tru to learn but I thinck it will be wurth it in the long run. I hoep you are doing well and that you enjoyed my letter? Thanck you for teeching me to read and write.

With love,

Jetta Ravenlock




*A letter is returned, hers re-written and left on the bed in his guest room.  All spelling has been corrected and a separate letter enclosed as well.*

Deer Dear Andrew,
 
 You said I should write a letter to you for praktise practice.  I will write a bout about sum some of the things I have dun done lately.  I have maid made sum some new cloeths clothes.  You seamed seemed to like the set you saw.  I have been trying to maik make sum some new lethers leathers too.  It takes lots of salt to kuer cure skins and maik  make lether leather.  Asids Acids and oyls oils too.  It is kosting costing me lots of Tru True to learn but I thinck think it will be wurth worth it in the long run.  I hoep hope you are doing well and that you enjoyed my letter?  Thanck Thank you for teeching teaching me to read and write.
 
 With love,
 
 Jetta Ravenlock


*in block italic, carefully written*


Dear Rook,

I am pleased, deeply so, to read your letter.  I see you've been reading your book on punctuation!  I understood everything you wrote, and I have offered some corrections above and will put some definitions below.

I think it is time we found you a dictionary; I believe I can locate one from a local gentleman who is a scribe and runs a bibliotheque near town center.

And yes, I liked your dress a lot.  Rather too much, I think, as I am committed to not abusing our friendship or taking advantage.  Rest assured I'll try to keep my eyes in my head and my jaw off the floor.

Tailoring is an expensive profession to be sure, I've only gotten good enough to design and make a few things but nothing like what I prefer wearing.  I'm glad you find it satisfying; I've always enjoyed the motions, sewing often reminds me of using a conductor's wand or a rapier.

I'm going to introduce some new ways to understand sentences and words; nouns, pronouns, verbs, adverbs, adjectives, and prepositions.

Noun - a person, place or thing.  Jetta is a noun (a person); Leringard is a noun (a place); letter is a noun (a thing).

Verb - any word that indicates an action.  Run, walk, dance, and sing are verbs.

Pronoun - this replaces a noun in a sentence to make it less repetitive.  In your letter you wrote "It is costing me a lot of True."  I understood that what you meant was "Tailoring is costing Jetta a lot of True" but "it" replaced "tailoring" and "me" replaced "Jetta".  These are pronouns.  You, it, she, and he are other examples.

Adjective - this adds information to a noun or pronoun.  "The big house" or "the pretty dress" - big and pretty are adjectives.

Adverb - this adds information to an adjective, verb, or another adverb but never a noun.  So "I moved slowly" and "Her dancing was fast and sensual" - slowly explains how I moved, and both fast and sensual explain how she danced.

Let's look at some of your letter:

"I (pronoun) have made (verb) some new (adjective) clothes (noun)."  

Have and some we'll get into later.  I don't expect you to apply all this now, but it's there for when you need it.

I will keep the letter you sent as a present to myself for being allowed to assist you in your introduction to the written word.

Some definitions:

sum = the total portion of an item  (I have the sum of True you asked for, I need the sum of those apples)
some = any portion of an item (I have some apples, but not all of them)

maid = a person hired to assist with househould chores or cleaning (I hired a maid to help clean the house)
made = to create; to make (I made a new dress)

seam = a place where two pieces of cloth are joined (My vest split at the seam)
seem = appearing to be (it seemed red, I seem to be burned)

I know this is a lot and we'll go over it next lesson.  

Muse inspire you,


Andrew

[RollinsCat]

He sat by the giant fireplace in the Twin Dragons, cross-legged and naked from the waist up.  The great room was empty.  Tyr'riel was asleep near him, wrapped in a blanket with a smile playing on his young face; he loved that smile, that warm, well-fed, happy little boy smile.  Since they'd moved from the tower he'd seen that smile a lot more, or so he thought.  Tyra disagreed but then she usually did.

Another look at the small miracle nestled into the plushness of Tyrian's magically comfortable rug and he turned to clear his head.  Deep breathing, gentle motions to move him closer to his body and away from the cerebral.  Memories pulled to the fore of times past, drugs taken, visions and voices imagined.  

He didn't bother trying to conjure images this time, only sounds.  He worked on breathing out the song and moving his fingers as if he were speaking with his hands -- easily done, he spoke with his hands most of the time anyway.  He forced his eyes open when they would have closed.  From deep in his throat, a rumbling purr he'd picked up, he didn't know where.  Perhaps it was the smoking.

A snarling growl made him jump, right next to his ear; a tearing sound from the throat of an angry beast and he looked around as Merlin and Tiger both started to bark.  Ty woke with a cranky whine.  He picked the boy up and held him close, craning his head for the source of the noise.  His glasses were back in his room...everything was slightly fuzzy.  The Heartsong gave up nothing but he and the dog's combined alarm and Ty's irritation at being woken.

The room remained quiet but for the fire and his son, now awake and intent on remaining so even if he had to battle the Sandman hand to hand.  And I just got him down, too...  He put Ty on the rug and listened again; hearing nothing, he attached the little runner line he'd made to a loop on the boy's pants.  She'll kill me if she catches me doing THIS again.  But at least he didn't have to walk behind the child, stooped over with an aching back.  Ty took his freedom and toddled off to the couch in a race to climb up and promptly fall down. How did I live to be three?  Poor mother, if I was anything like this.

Ty safely contained to a ten-foot radius, he began again.  Dredging from memory, feeling his body move, he breathed the song of illusion.

The snarl again -- he did jump this time, rolling across the rug to his son while Tiger ran to the fireplace ready to attack.  He looked under the couch, behind the chairs...

Tiger kept looking at him.  He blinked, then let his fussing son go and sat.  Focused.  Moved.

Snarled.

The sound was more real than he thought he could make but it was him, his illusion.  Not what he expected and not what he'd been thinking of either.  Or....was it?  The story-telling night was coming up and he, as a resident of the Twin Dragons, had an obligation to host.  But he'd not written anything yet.  It was weighing on him, not having time to write.  His music and his stories were suffering.

Okay, a snarl, a growl.  Dragons.  Where have I heard that? He thought of dragons, of the great water serpents swimming in his people's legends.  The dragons of the island were not the huge winged beasts of most of Layonara; they were sleek, eel-like, wingless and at home in the ocean that was never far from the residents of Tilmar.

It came to him in a rush, the memory of her voice.  Not Grandmother Rose but his mother's mother.  She was special in a grandmotherly way but never someone he spent a lot of time thinking about; still alive, and always a quiet woman.  But she had been the one to tell him of Kushiri and his betrayal and blood on the clay.

Kushiri -- yes, that story.  That would be what he told.  And for the first time, he'd use illusion to accentuate it.  Not pictures, but sound.  A glance to Ty who was trying to gnaw on Tiger's tail, never quite catching it, and he began to practice the illusions again with renewed passion.  The snarl, the sound of water rushing, the growl of the crocodile...

[RollinsCat]

Ygraine of the Ursus Clan & Annwyl Cadi
request the pleasure of your company
at the occassion of their wedding on Jenra 23, 1468 at 12 o'clock.

A reception will be held following the ceremony.

The wedding and reception will take place on a private island in the Sea of Mists.
A ferry will be provided from the the city of Lor, in the Rael Kingdom.

[/COLOR][/FONT]

[RollinsCat]

He was one week back from Huangjin, still carrying the warmth of his family's love with him.  Have a child and all sins are forgiven.  He was not displeased.  He'd never felt closer to Shiuchi and even his father had backed down, smoking cigars with him in idle talk of fatherhood and women.  He'd helped paint some of the Locke order, nearly ready for shipping, and thrown pots for another order with Ty on his lap.  Ty had loved watching his father shape the wet clay and clapped as he'd worked.  His mother made congee every night.  He'd enjoyed his stay.

But tonight.  He checked Ty's skin again; slippery and soft as an eel's but not peeling and the child did not appear in pain.  He could not believe Tyra.  He could not believe she'd left the boy- ALONE - in her room to come talk to him.  She knew Autumn had been out doing some hunting!  She knew that and had left Ty by himself!  

He checked the boy every ten minutes, muttering the entire time.  Ty slept, having had a busy night since they'd rushed back to the Arms to find him covered in Tyra's special medicine.  Untended, he'd climbed from the crib to her dressing table and then to the floor, plucking the bright green vial from the washbasin and bringing it with him.  He'd glowed like some mutant plant-child when they'd found him.

Muse, at least he didn't drink any.  They'd made sure of that.  Even Autumn, who put up with Tyra with a patience he envied, was angry.  "But I left him alseep!"  his son's mother had protested.  

"Did you really think he'd stay that way?"  Autumn's sarcasm was scathing, shutting Tyra up, and he smiled at that memory.  A good fit, that elf.

Ty was showing no ill effects and he stood by the crib, thinking of his family.  Tyra, Tyr'riel, Autumn.  All of them his.  Oddly, disfunctionally, lovingly his.  He smiled.

Having spent an hour in the bath with Ty trying to get all traces of Tyra's medicine off of him, he changed his bedding.  No good to be that clean and have old sheets.  One last check of the boy and he lay down.  There was time for some private activities to relax him - it had been a while since he'd seen Minu or his Night Sky and he was horny - and then to sleep, with nothing more on his mind than the fading glow of self-pleasure and a moment's wonder if Enzo had brought pie to the Dragons' kitchen yet.

It drifted in much like the last two had.  Pleasant, soothing beginnings.  Nature.  Peace.  He lingered there for longer then times previous.  He sat and looked up at the trees, listened to the bird calls.  There were other things too, living and near.  He could Hear them as well, in his dream.  Worms, rabbits, snakes, somewhere out there a predator of some kind lurked, but only in the calm state of existing...

As he sat in the lush greenery, lulled into a complete acceptance of fixing whatever had been wrong...changing whatever path was leading him away from all of that serenity... it happened again.

Crushed.  He was being crushed down his spine and into the earth, as of he were some kind wick being pressed out for the night.  The sounds were gone.  Everything was gone.  What in Ilsare's name was taking all the sound from him?!  Why did it keep happening?

There was no air, no temperature, no sensation of feeling anything.  There was only sight and the sensation of impending, utter doom.  His head began to twist of its own accord, forced by some outside pressure.  There it was again... the grating, screeching horrible dragging sound of stone on stone.  Heads birthed more heads, there were two, then three, then four... it just kept happening until they stretched beyond his ability to see.

Blissfully, the agony ceased, but in his heart he knew it wasn't over.  He knew the next sound would hurt worse, he knew it would make him want to carve out some of the best parts of himself just to make it stop.

Stone on stone, screeching as the mouths opened.  He tried to brace himself. Muse, he tried, but when the grating sound stopped the next sound came with almost mocking finality.  The horrible screaming.  It stabbed at him, hurt his ears.  The sound took only moments to draw blood.  His mind ached.  And this time...this time his heart began to... to swell... to ache...todosomethingthatwasn'tright!  He wanted to tear himself apart, to silence the sound, stop the agony that was taking him.

"MAKE IT STOP!"

The ink filled the air, notes, staves, bars, rests, key registers, all jumbled in the air making no sense of anything.  It enveloped him.

"MAKE IT STOP!"

Muse, he thought he might die there that way.  There wasn't even a spare moment for "why," only agony....

Something pierced his dream, something worse than the screaming, or something that hit him in the right place.  He could still hear screaming but it pulled him up, away...

It was Ty, crying in fear, and he pushed the dream away and stumbled to the crib.  He scooped up his son and held him close, skin to skin, soothing him, cooing, cuddling.  The boy took several minutes to calm and fell back asleep easily.  He turned back to the bed and sat on the edge with his head in his hands.

He had to get back into the dream again, soon.  Aya would not babysit this time.  He had to take care of Ty for a few weeks until Tyra's medicine came...then...

Jetta waited for the screaming to stop, with minor agitation, and then went back to sleep. The next time she saw Andrew alone the next morning she nonchalantly asked him about the occurrence.

"So, what was all that shouting about last night? Child keeping you awake? Sure your'e cut out to be a father?"

[RollinsCat]

To: Katrien Hommel
108 Port Hempstead Docks
Port Hempstead
Kingdom of Brelin
Mistone

Milady Hommel;

I wanted to say that enjoyed our talk, despite feeling no small guilt in knowing your discomfort due to your injuries.  I hope you will consider speaking with me again as I would love to discuss the nature of another area I'm interested in, illusionary sound.

I would write more appropriate small-talk but you may appreciate me getting right to the point.  Have you, or any other of those you know who are close to the Heartsong, had difficult dreams lately?  Perhaps with unnatural silence alternating with horrible, discordant noise?  

This is not a plea for more information about your  knowledge of the Heartsong, but only an inquiry to see if events I am experiencing have a broader spread.  It has had a deleterious effect on my sleep and I'm caught between wanting it to be something non-specific to me and hoping that no one else has experienced such dreams.

I hope to hear from you soon, Milady.

Yours in the Muse,


Andrew Reid

[RollinsCat]

*inside the songbook is a sketch, cut from his traveling journal.  It is a staircase, drawn as if the artist were sitting on a stair looking over a low stone railing.  The number of and shape of bricks from the artist's perspective are carefully reproduced, as is the gently pointed oval archway in the distance.  There are some calculations on number of king's feet from staircase to archway wall assuming standard sized steps and a slightly-larger-than-human-sized archway.

Next to the archway is drawn an urn-like brazier on the wall and a notation - "green" - and just past that to the right, the wall turns and fades to darkness.  The wall is made of two shades of stone and the location of the darker stone is noted.

Underneath are some thoughts in neat italic script.*

Jay -- Order of the Ram
Jetta, Hardragh -- Gork?

Mechidli

[RollinsCat]

Heard from sailor in Leringard bar; good voice, good performance.  Modified.

Twas Frias morn when we set sail
And we were not far from land
When the captain, he spied a lovely mermaid
With a comb and glass in her hand

O the ocean's waves will roll, roll
And the stormy winds will blow, blow
While we poor sailors go skipping to the top
And the landlubbers lie down below, below
And the landlubbers lie down below

And up spoke the captain of our gallant ship
And a well-spoken man was he
"I have me a wife in Hempstead by the sea
And tonight she a widow will be"

And up spoke the cookie of our gallant ship
And a red hot cookie was he
Saying "I care much more for my pots and my pans
Than I do for the bottom of the sea"

Then up spoke the cabinboy, of our gallant ship
And a nasty little lad was he
"I'm not quite sure I can spell "mermaid" sir
But I'm going to the bottom of the sea"

O the ocean's waves will roll, roll
And the stormy winds will blow, blow
While we poor sailors scramble to the top
Trying not to lie down below (below, below)
Trying not to lie down below

Then three times around went our gallant ship
And three times around went she
Three times around went our gallant ship
And she sank to the bottom of the sea

O the ocean's waves did roll, roll
And the stormy winds did blow, blow
While we poor sailors went slipping from the top
And we all lie quiet down below, below
And we all lie quiet down below

[RollinsCat]

The dreamroot wore off, finally, although he was still a little loopy. Maybe he hadn't been tired enough; more likely he'd been too tired. The dream had remained out of reach.

Slumped in a chair with a cigar and a book he didn't end up wanting to read, he let his mind wander. His favorite place, that chair. It sat to the right of Tyrian's huge fireplace and was tall-backed and deep, supporting his long thighs and torso in a way most chairs sullenly refused to. Also it was a shade of burgandy that he liked. And crushed velvet, which he also liked. He thought about making a coat in that material as his fingers idly stroked the fabric.

It took a few moments to dawn on him; peace. The dreams had him on the ragged edge, James was due in Lor in a week's time, and he missed Minu and Jaelle fiercely. Still, sitting there in the late night hush, with the feeling of velvet under his fingertips and the fire's song popping in his ears, he felt peace.

Delta peace?

He started thinking about when he'd felt it before, that contentment. Not often enough; he'd always been restless. But one night reading a picture book to his son while Tyra played with his hair came to mind. Hearing the world, the Heartsong, as a child, then again after a night with Jaelle, and again in the presence of Edgar and Jaelle and Emwonk, and now...well, every time. That he could hear it at all always felt right.

The first time he tucked Bella under his chin and heard the violin sing for him. When he'd found her again, lying under a pile of re-stolen items in a mercenary captain's chest...

Other times. Playing guitar with his brother by candlelight. Moments with Tyr'riel, many of them. The first time Ty had called him Dada. Every little duet they sang together. Taking walks with Ty and Tiger, watching boy and dog discover the world together.

Listening to Minu's emotions shine as bright as any sun when she was accepted as a healer of Aeridin.

The day Jaelle had taken him back into her arms.

Playing Bella.

Music.

It always came back to that. He knocked the tip off the cigar and lay it aside. The custom case, more beautiful for all the nicks and scuffs that spoke of loving use, released its captive to his waiting hands.

How was he going to play that peace? He put the bow to the strings, fussed with the tuning a bit while he thought. And then abandoned thinking - he thought too much. He moved the bow across the strings and picked a memory at random, the first thing to flash into his mind, which had wound all the way back to reading Ty the book he'd written and illustrated for him. That whole day had been peace and rightness; the creation of the book, Ty's excitement at every page, Tyra slowly pulling his hair between her fingers. That they'd kissed after that and for a little while felt together, not just in proximity.

With a long breath he let go and tried to put that feeling, that day, to music.

[RollinsCat]

Spun silver on a windowsill
Orn's breath hanging white and still
Birds huddle from windy chill
Inside an old oak tree

Oak branches brush the ivy vine
Round the old house which they twine
And drape over the lintel, mine
Winter's green marquee

Beneath vine stands an ashwood door
Facing tree with sawn rapport
Closed to what had come before
But opening, for me

Leaves blow in across the boards
Hushed refrain from paper chords
Spinning forth and heading towards...
Nothing, that I can see

Steps echo off the empty walls
Up the stairs and down the halls
With the leaves the sound recalls
Memories of thee

When voices filled the paneled room
When laughter mixed with sweet perfume
When daylight sought to night presume
Wine-lightened feet a dance resume...

Garbed in cheer and bright costume...

...but silence now is all I hear
Cloaked in anger, clasped with fear
Never one more "sorry, dear"
Or tearful heartbreak plea

Now it's only me

And the house

And the tree

[RollinsCat]

My Dearest Andrew,
 
 I am sorry to send you a note as I am, but it is necessary for your safety. I am urgently in need of your aid, and can not go into the specifics here in this letter. If you can meet me at My Healing Lights temple as soon as possible. We must talk.
 
 With My Love and Healing Lights Blessings always,
 ~Elohanna

[RollinsCat]

A dollop of runny aloe hit Bella and he cursed, carefully wiping it off the varnish.  The bandage around his wrist had come loose again.  There was no way to keep it tight while he played and his annoyance only deepened.  Ty was recovering from his own episodic illness - Thank Ilsare it's going to clear up eventually! - and was sleeping on his new little bed under the tent Andrew had built by draping a sheet over the two chests that flanked it.

It had been a long few weeks.  No relief, no sex, no physical contact without layers of clothing between; itching and discomfort and self-imposed hermitage, and since he had Ty and Tyra was checking on him regularly, not even a cigar to relax his mind.  Only his instruments and his imagination and the challenge of a new contest.  He had an idea what to write for Lor but as yet had not been able to focus so he'd played, for hours sometimes, trying to steady his mind and calm his soul.  It wasn't working.

Ty had been better since they agreed to stop giving him so many sweets; he wasn't bouncing as much anyway, and seemed to understand he'd be sick on and off for a while.  And I need to talk to Tyra about Autumn - making her officially Tyr'riel's godmother, since there was no one else he trusted more to raise the boy should something happen to both of them - but overall, his family was okay.  He'd had no new dreams and Tyra was being affectionate.  She'd even been openly cuddly with him in front of Daniel and Gurnorhn.  It was a long road for her but each little discovery brought them quiet joy.  If she keeps this up...He wasn't ready to finish that thought and put the bow to Bella's strings instead, playing without thinking.

Once again he tried to drop himself into the calm of his music, to find some shelter from the itching and horniness and addictions.  Even his desire for a drink had flared back up like an unexpected rash on his heart.  He'd confessed this to Tyra with genuine fear.  He didn't want to drink again.  Not ever.  And he didn't trust himself to see that resolve through.  He didn't ask for help often but this time, he'd said, he needed her.  Don't let me fool myself again, blossom.  I think I can handle it and I can't...

He played until his shoulders hurt and then a little more.

[RollinsCat]

It was pouring outside.  The thick temple walls muffled most of it but he could hear it running from shingles and dripping from eaves. It was chilly in the room as well, the damp chilly that only comes when it rains.

He sat at the desk, listening, trying his very hardest not to scratch.  This will kill you.  He forced himself away from the sweet healer's voice and to the paper in front of him.  He shouldn't have to write this.  He shouldn't.  She'd come.

taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptap...

The quill was righted and dipped before his rationalization caught up.  He didn't trust her.  Minu was right about her again - she'd lied by omission before.  Why, exactly, had he had sex with her?  Trust was basic to any relationship and she didn't trust him and he didn't trust her.  He finished the second letter.

Autumn.

I have sent Tyra a letter requesting all of you here at the Aeridinite temple in North Point. She may well throw a fit, and decide not to come.

I asked her to please send you and Ty if she decides to stay and that his pox might be more deadly than we were told.

You know her. If she decides to keep both herself and Tyr'riel there, please, for the love of the child if nothing else, bring him here. I will reimburse all travel expenses and they have a room here.

I might be dying from my skin disease. It is some kind of body defense thing. If she won't come, please, please bring him yourself and don't tell her until you're gone and on your way. I have no idea how she's going to react. If she is reasonable, then come with them if you can.

Looking forward to you both here,


Andrew

Another envelope folded.  Well, if there was an advantage to using a pixy as a courier, it was that she'd know whom to give which letter to.  He threw the quill down just to hear it hit the table and set the letters on the edge, stood with a shrill scraping of the chair, and paced.

All I did was try to love someone who is incredibly difficult to love and incredibly grumpy unless she's completely alone with me.  All I did was TRY TO LOVE, Ilsare!  Is this a test?  I promised Steel I'd be there in Rael, when it is time, and here I am a captive in a hospital.  For love, or for sex, or for something.

Too many things, too much, and that voice, over and over...kill you, kill you...not a heroic death, facing down the cult and Rael's bullies in battle; no, just a slow flaky degradation until he was a pile of skin on the floor.  Would the bindstones save him?  Would he just die, over and over, until the Soul Mother was full?  Would Ilsare still take him to Her?

Footsteps outside the door.  He froze, listening again, singing to himself a moment to boost his hearing.  Gentle steps, light, in flat shoes.  Minu.  The steps paused and he remained a rabbit in the brush, not wanting her to hear him, not wanting to be caught so utterly frazzled.  A few heartbeats and the steps went on down the hall.

Oh, wouldn't that be great, if she did come and Minu was here.  Well, too bad.  He wasn't going to turn his back on his Sun even if she wasn't the "right" race.  Minu had been there, she'd listened, she'd dropped what she was doing to stand with him even knowing how he might have ended up here.  Tyra might not even show up.

Another dozen things ran across his mind and made the headache he was developing worse.  Ty - the healer's concern - Rael - Lor - Marcus, Rurik, his students, Argali, the contest, "never seen a case this far advanced"...how long since he'd written anything decent, his parents - should he tell them?

He stopped.  His stomach was set to boil over.  His head was splitting now, well and truly.  He felt tears burning, and had a bizarre, detached moment.  I am really not good at being sick.

Her case caught his eye, nicked and burnished with the friction of years in his pack.  The light from the candle sconces played across the pebbled leather, shimmying in cracks and flickering dully across worn spots.  Bella's bed, her palace, her velvet-lined coffin.  He picked it up and thumbed the locks.

The violin's rosewood patina was as warm as his grandmother's embrace.  He felt another choking spasm of pain.  Even now, decades later, her loss would sneak up on him and leave his heart constricted in the iron grip of her absence.  But he could honor her and maybe, just maybe, find a little peace.  This was not to be scribbled down between bow strokes.  This was not for posterity.  He needed to play for now, for this aching, and for Ilsare to please Her so that She would keep an eye on him here in the house of Her ally.

He rested the bow lightly on the strings, not tuning them first, just pulling and listening.  He used his most delicate touch and heard from his instrument the sound of a small thing in pain - fitting.  If the Resonance would have no time for him, if his child's mother was a woman he could not trust, if Sulterio's minions were falling into bed with the Green Dragon Cult and the world was on the brink of subjugation once again, if he was dying in a cold stone room...at least he could do this.

He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to shut out the worries and nagging doubts and fears, and he played.

[RollinsCat]

//This is to journal my side of the "Dragon Plague/Cure" issue that has recently happened.  There are two options to making my side of the story heard, and I think in light of the events on the public server and the various threads that already had an effect on the mood of the Team, a private chronicle is warranted.  I do not wish to leave anyone in the Team thinking I am difficult to work with or will bite them if I'm not happy.  I think I've been part of enough quests and impromptus that it should go without saying, but as I have not been asked my opinion of things I can't be sure.  I would appreciate it if a gm would post a link to this in Andrew's character profile so that all views are taken into consideration.



I am skipping mention of my character development request because aside from expressing in pm a frustration at the time it was taking (after having fair warning, and I accept responsibility for not getting an accurate idea of what a "long wait" might actually entail) it appears to me to be separate from the rest of the situation and Rowana confirmed this:

   

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your two separate CDQs (essentially)

.  for the record, I did ask for only one and wasn't out to take up this much of anyone's time.  I have had two previous chardevs and neither were a problem for the gms in question.



From my point of view:



Shiff's character had an illness.  She told Andrew what it was, and that she was told it was not contagious.  Upon further delving, it came out that Tyra was given that information from an NPC: she was not contagious "to her kind".  She needed special medication to control it which was sent to her from afar so that (to my understanding) the character could continue to play the game.  medications that needed to be roleplayed as well as the condition itself, but the character would not be able to infect humans and would still be able to log in and play: fair enough.  A reasonable balance between consequence and fun.



Shiff had a flight of fancy one night during rp between Tyra, Autumn, and Andrew; he didn't mention what it would be until Tyra rp'd finding Ty playing with her medicine.  Writing about this in the private thread led to a side series with some excellent gming and roleplay from all involved, a trip to Blackford Castle.  They were told by

   

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an important personage also there under strict guard

that it was an elven kind of chicken pox and the child's illness would cycle but he'd grow out of it and it would not kill him.  Fair enough - easy to roleplay, good for a future pc's development.  We accepted this, wrote about it, and moved on.



Andrew eventually had relations with Tyra after many ig years of buildup and roleplay.  Again, at no point did it cross my mind that this would have consequences - it is not a stupid act (unwise perhaps, but not egregiously stupid).  He was assured he'd not get infected and some fun rp built up to it (the actual event was only alluded to in writing because I don't cyber even if the server allowed it and that goes double for doing so with Shiff.).



Andrew became ill.  I jumped into the rp, thinking that it was a good scare - a little morality play.  He went to the Aeridinites and I fully expected it to be a Halloween-style "BOO" and the skin condition to be unrelated since, well, he can't be infected by Tyra.



During the first session with Elohanna, it came out that he would die of his condition.  Ok - more serious than I thought, but I was still on board, since a life-threatening illness should have priority in game for resolution.  He wrote to Tyra and Autumn and we set up a second session.



At that session it came out that Tyra had somehow infected him.  At this point, I was stunned - all of the rp was predicated on her NOT BEING CONTAGIOUS.  If either of them had known, it would have never happened.  But, Tyra's character was able to move about, and surely the now three-year-long cure quest would wrap up soon.  Tyr'riel also, as it turned out, was much more ill than the important elven woman (at least I assume that is who she was) led us to believe.  So, an NPC misleads Tyra into thinking she's not contagious and a second NPC misunderstands the dangers to their child.  Very odd, but again - onward.  We'll play this out, it can't be long for a cure.  And, I figured we'd get on the quest, contribute, be a part of it.



Not quite.  First, we were told that the medicines from Erilyn would now only come through the temple in North Point.  Ok, fine - we'll come pick them up.   No, we had to report for treatment.  Tyra had to rp being the temple for one week of every three, and Andrew for one of every four (three on one off I think).  This means that my character is now able to travel exactly one and a half weeks from North Point before he has to return.  All other in game locations are now off limits to him if he is to play without consequence to himself and others.  This was in direct opposition to what Tyra had been offered previously and it seemed punitive from my side of the keyboard.



Here is where I made a mistake, and I have apologized for it.  I will apologize again.  I am sorry I did not stop us right there and say "hey, this isn't going to work for me, my character is now basically stuck in either North Point or Spellgard until his portal money runs out".  I should have stepped up and discussed a compromise at that point, since - and this is something I am going to emphasize - YOU GUYS WRITE THIS.  There is no reason it cannot change, none at all.  It's all in you heads.  There is nothing that can't be adjusted for gm convenience and nothing that can't be re-written on the fly to account for playstyle and gm/player satisfaction.  Isn't that what an impromptu is all about?  Flexibility, adjustment, balanced challenge and fun?



I was concerned because my character has a long-standing arc in Lor, something that began way back when I was a newbie of I think level six?  And Masterjack gave me my first job.  (thanks for that MJ, a good bit of Andrew's encouragement as a songwriter I owe to you stepping in and sponsoring him).



I expressed concern about the limitations and (I do not have a log, so I will paraphrase as I remember it) was told that I would not be able to get to Lor and back and still get regular treatment.  I asked about doing a final wrap-up for Lor and during that initial session was told they'd work with me.



When Dezza announced the upcoming Lor quest, the following exchange took place:

   

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Originally Posted by RollinsCat                                           upon hearing of Rael's movement toward Lor, Andrew is going to run, not walk, to Sister Moonriver. he'll explain his involvment in keeping Lor from being taken over and his concern that Lor is about to be "saved from the dark elves" whether they want to be or not - and whether there are in fact any dark elves attacking the surface or not.  he'll ask if can take some medicine "to go", as he feels he can be of assistance in this matter, or if she does not trust him to apply it is there someone near Lor she trusts enough to do it while he's there.  he's adamant - he needs to go and help. //this is something Andrew's been involved in since just after I first joined the server, via Beli/Buddy/Masterjack.  I am hoping we can work something out that Andrew can attend any events relating to Rael's march on Lor and Steel's Triple S initiative.  how do you want to handle this?

   

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Originally Posted by Rowana                                           Sister Moonriver will be understandably concerned about Andrew doing anything that might worsen his condition. She cannot send medicine in advance with neither herself nor to someone in Lor. The medicine, as she mentioned, takes animal blood but that animal has to be drained of it's blood with a certain freshness and it is being drained in Voltrex. The animal is rare additionally. She simply doesn't have enough to make any kind of supply for him or Tyra. He's not a prisoner there at the temple but she can't supply the medicine he'll need to be away for an extended period of time. She goes over with him the risks of his decision (worsening of his condition, possible death if it advances quickly for any reason, potential spread from contact if he's injured greatly and someone else tends to his wounds, etc, etc). She leaves the decision up to him, however.

They can ship the lotion from Voltrex/Erilyn to North Point but not to Lor for one treatment maybe?  really?



This was a turning point in my attitude toward this "second character quest".  There was little movement on the one I had requested, although I was given guidance on Heartsong rp and completed a retcon of misconceptions and I am grateful for that.  But to give up the Lor activities and the response to a "last call" in Lor was disheartening, especially as I was under the impression that some flexibility would be extended.



We tried to get the characters involved in the "cure quest" only to be flat-out refused by a furious and disgusted Jennara.  With that avenue closed, Andrew tried the Steel side, going to meet Fisterion (an amazing little quest that I completely enjoyed, more so cause I lived) and found out what was happening there.  there are things that Andrew can side with Steel on, but I had to really think about whether his character would want to be involved in that and the answer was no - he's a good person.  Greater good or not, Corathites and Ilsare do not mix.  I can justify a bard wanting to see his first dragon, and why not the King?  but not associating with that kind of evil, regardless of the intent.  So that was out.



pms were sent back and forth as I asked for guidance on this and other Heartsong things, trying to jump-start my original chardev quest.  I was increasingly unhappy with my character's current status and having to refuse groups and social interaction on other continents in favor of him sitting in North Point.  I asked specifically about doing something toward a cure on my own on two occasions, and got responses that I felt were contradictory:

   

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Andrew is spread thin like not enough butter on toast. He needs to focus himself and figure out how he can best direct his efforts for whatever path he wants to work. Is his goal in life really to understand and become adept with the Heartsong? It doesn't seem to be his priority.

and

   

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Anyway, so how it relates to your character, clearly if you are going to play it true to RP it leaves your character idle somewhat. I don't think it lessens your ability to do things but perhaps I have a different perspective there. If I were you, I'd arrange player events. There are people happy to attend those when they can and it exposes you (ah, no pun intended) to new folks. These are sometimes (okay, a lot of times) better at WL development then going a-huntin' anyway. Perhaps Andrew gets involved with temple fund raising given his condition. Perhaps he wants to connect with other adventurer parents. Perhaps he does the storyteller's night thing. It's clear to me that his character needs the interaction to some degree and one way to cope is to have more interaction to a lesser degree to fill that void. Additionally, you could set up more "appointments" with Connor and Anna, or perhaps Katrien, or Jaelle or other folks Andrew is involved with. I think most of us are more then willing. In all of this is the opportunity to gather information about a potential cure for his condition, I might add. Lastly, and clearly, there is the option to go out as if business is usual and run the risk there. Andrew isn't trapped, we didn't want him to be trapped because we knew it was likely to be some time before he would be able to run freely. We tried to balance it between realistic RP and unconsequential RP. We are willing to work with you if you are willing to work with us. No one wants to leach the fun out of the game for you.

I wasn't trapped, but I was expected to be idle if I was to play true to form, and work on getting people to come to him when their schedules allowed.  I have no problem throwing events, I have no problem with sit-and-chat rp.  Done both and I'm fine with both.  But here a discussion of playstyles would have been helpful, instead of later.  Milt posted an excellent breakdown of different player styles and I see myself as one-third of each: bashy/adventure, rp/social, and world-changing/event.  really just depends on the day and what's going on.  The events leading to now restricted and forced a change of my playstyle, leading to me not wanting to log on at all.  



Changing circumstances of a player's character is good.  Changing the way the player is allowed to play is not so good.



from the above, I was spread too thin, and now here is one more thing that I have to do to save my character - my other choice being to pretend nothing is happening until my character is perm'd for me - as well as giving up things I had already invested in.  Despite the sympathetic and helpful tone of the pm, I have to say that at this point it was starting to feel forced.  "Here is what we want you to do, and if you do not, you will die".  I am sure that was not the intent.  I'm certain that the gms felt that I would be someone who might take an interest in this whole arc and have fun with it.  But they didn't take into account my playstyle, and what confinement would mean for both me as a player and my character.



I tried to go on as if nothing were wrong but I had to rp a dying man, and I won't lie - it was not fun.  From my last pm to Rowana (from that point forward her inbox was full and would not accept any more pms I sent):

   

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I doubly do not enjoy having to rp a terminally ill character. I have seen terminal illness close up - I'm sure you have too. It's not pretty. It's not joyful. It's not something I wish to force myself to go through. To some, perhaps, a huge opportunity for character expansion and exploration and growth; to me, memories that blur the line between game time and real time in a way that makes me uncomfortable.

I came to this server amazed at the depth, the stories, the talent.  I had nothing but faith in the Team, enjoying all that was thrown my way - I've been in many quests and impromptus and loved it all.  But there does come times when a player is confronted with something that they don't enjoy.  So many ways it could have been fixed:  Andrew's condition was something else entirely, and things carried on.  Thier meds were tweaked to prevent contagion, and they could come pick them up rather than being tethered to the temple.  it could have cleared up on it's own as they are not dragons.  It could have been resolved without a retcon.



and finally:

   

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In this case it is necessary because frankly the most important thing in a relationship is trust. Clearly both players had no trust in me or where events were taking their characters. After the way events played out I have no trust that the players/characters will not revert back to previous grievences and make additional headaches for myself and other team members over the same material. Its better its gone and all parties can move.

This was from Minerva.  this was the first pm I received from her in all this time.  The rest of the pm details things that have changed going back to way before Andrew had any involvement in this and I won't repeat them as I'm sure they're in my dossier.



I trust the Team.  I won't let this stop my trust, and I hope this incident will not cause the Team to mistrust me as a player.  but I have to say that I have to trust that the Team will listen when I say "I have a problem here" and work to resolve it.  I pushed back when my enjoyment level dropped and here we are.  I put forth two pm olive branches to say, ok, let's fix this - find a way to get them out of North Point and back into the day-to-day, or wrap up the illness, or whatever.  to me this seems so simple.  Let's fix it and move on, it didn't work for you but we don't have to scrap the rp, let's just resolve or adjust.  It really is just that simple because this is just a game, in the end.



Regarding my threads, I have retconned to an illness that mimics a more serious one, so the threat of death remains until the real underlying cause is found.  Everything remains the same otherwise, including a nasty bout of chicken pox for Ty.



all references to Sister Moonriver, anything that specifically named the disease, references to Tyra's medicine, and the elven portion of the chicken pox are gone.  Andrew will still have his dance with death and a recovery.  Expect much writing on that.

   

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If you have any questions regarding the editing or direction of information please ask for clarification. If other players ask about events please direct them to Rowana or myself to avoid miscommunication.

It is my intention to let people know if they ask that it wasn't the dragon plague after all, the Team and myself had a misunderstanding, and they can request further information from Rowana or Minerva.  I am not about to go out slandering anyone's name over this - the errors were compound ON ALL SIDES and you know what?  it happens.  Sometimes people are a good fit in one way (rp with Anna and Katrien) and a bad fit in others (the alternate chardev and said resolution).  It happens.  No harm, no foul, let's move forward.





Andy