Kalshana
Kalshana
After disagreeing with the concept that the Way of Light was best spread through quiet contemplation, she convinces some of her friends to ditch the monastery and head east to help with the crisis after the Day of Mourning. Having worked on a ship to get to Khorvaire, she is decently used to sailing and knows a bit on how to sail.
Mental characteristics
Sexuality
She does not get attracted to specific genders but gets attracted to kindness, to selflessness, to creatives and inspirational figures. She has never had a relationship but likes the idea of it.
Education
Her childhood consisted of a combination of familial tutorage of the basics and the rest from the clerics. She learned mostly the details of the Way of the Light, the history of her people and of Sarlona, various languages and some fragments about other subjects.
Employment
Freelancing Cleric is probably the best description of her current employment. Her previous employment was Cleric and Sailing Hand.
Failures & Embarrassments
She has a string of goofs that are pretty minor and only she probably remembers like accidentally kicking over an incense censer during a service or having a haircut go terribly, terribly wrong.
Mental Trauma
She lost her father when she was young due to an incurable illness. Whilst it inspired her to concentrate on healing magic, she is a little on edge around diseases and illnesses, often taking an overly precautious approach to cleanliness and avoiding causes of illness such as poorly cooked food.
Intellectual Characteristics
She is very curious and loves to learn almost anything. A buffet intellectual, if you will, picking up scraps of random information and understanding over various disparate topics but usually at a fairly superficial level.
Morality & Philosophy
She is a huge believer in the innate goodness that centers in everyone, that given enough time to grow that even the most evil mind can have the good revealed. She is wholly naive and could be manipulated into pouring effort and attention into improving or assisting someone who professes to want to change despite not wanting to.
Personality Characteristics
Motivation
She is motivated by three main issues:
- Mental and Spiritual Preparation against the Dreaming Dark
- Spreading the Light and doing this through charitable works
- Avoiding and curing diseases
Savvies & Ineptitudes
She is good at sailing, reading and meditation. She is not so good at following orders if she believes those are out of line of her beliefs, cooking (tends to overcook everything) and understanding humour
Likes & Dislikes
She likes finding out new information, the smell of the spring flowers that bloom after the cold winters, berries of all types, the early hours before others are awake and old books.
She does not like rain, mushroom stew, being disturbed from her meditation, digging or lack of sleep.
She does not like rain, mushroom stew, being disturbed from her meditation, digging or lack of sleep.
Virtues & Personality perks
She is incredibly compassionate and willing to go the extra mile to do good. She is hard working, relatively cheerful and generous. She has a real "what's mine is yours" attitude to people around her.
Vices & Personality flaws
Her main flaw is her naivety. She hasn't experienced much of the world outside the monastery and the memories from her quori connections. Theoretically, she is working against all evils of the world but if she doesn't fully understand what that looks like, then it can be hard for her to see the red flags for a dangerous situation.
As a kalashtar, she is in an internal battle between the thoughtful and measured quori side and the emotionally loud, unpredicatable human side. It is something she has not mastered so she can switch between being emotional to being distant which can hamper social relationships between non-kalashtar who understand the same internal dissonance.
As a kalashtar, she is in an internal battle between the thoughtful and measured quori side and the emotionally loud, unpredicatable human side. It is something she has not mastered so she can switch between being emotional to being distant which can hamper social relationships between non-kalashtar who understand the same internal dissonance.
Personality Quirks
She can seem to take some time to respond to things as she thinks things through and will often forget that other people cannot hear her telepathically.
Hygiene
Outstanding.
Social
Family Ties
Father - Marlatash
Mother - Rastshana
Linked Quori - Shana
Religious Views
She was brought up in the Way of Light and is devout to this, if a little eager to spread the light in a world that might not want it.
Social Aptitude
Despite having a sunny and friendly disposition, she doesn't necessarily pick up on social cues that well and can sometimes seem distant.
Mannerisms
She can be quiet, preferring to observe before joining in. She can get lost in thought easily. She often mimics washing her hands when lost in thought.
Hobbies & Pets
Hobbies include cross-stitching, bad poetry and yoga.
Speech
She tries to keep her voice measured as she has been taught but struggles with this.
Wealth & Financial state
Clerics in far off monasteries is not a well paid position.
Naive acolyte of the Path of Light who decides to step out of the temple to do good and noble works elsewhere.
Character Location
Alignment
Neutral Good
Species
Birthplace
Adar - The Dyalya Monastery
Children
Current Residence
Shadow Marshes
Gender
Cis woman
Eyes
Green
Hair
Burgundy
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Tan
Height
5'9"
Weight
Average
Currently Knows:
- Celestial
- Common
- Daelkyr
- Dwarven
- Elven
- Giant
- Orc
- Quori
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Night In Sharn
17th Sypheros, 999 YK
The murmur of people clutters
as lanterns splutter in the wind.
Music leaks at the edge of hearing
as people dance and drink away.
The night appears still -
busy underneath, when senses
search for the movement
the muffled noises.
Illusions advertising stores -
long since closed for the day -
bright as the moon
which we cannot see below.
The towers climb ever higher,
the stairs feeling steeper
to aching muscles and bones.
So far from home, so far from sleep.
A scuffle stumbles out of a bar close
by - reasons unknown -
quickly dissolved by
alcohol and bouncers.
Up the stairs, clambouring up,
gasping for breath,
awaiting to be silouetted
by the kind moons.
With Many Hitches, Actually
17th Sypheros, 999 YK
This was a long day and I am unsure whether there will be consequences for our actions. If there are, they may be significant.
The day started somewhat well. After a light breakfast in Clifftop, we went to the Morgrave University administration office in order to gain information on Karg. Warden had the idea to transform into some sort of small lizard in order to remain somewhat hidden in plain sight, as it were. I have seen him transform into all manner of creatures over the years and yet it still fascinates me to see the metal man turn into warm flesh. Or, I suppose, cold blooded flesh in this instance. Druidic magic is a little beyond my understanding but it is certainly powerful and a wonder to watch. Warden latched onto Dax as she distracted one of the administration workers with banal questions. She found out that the information is all kept on a network of eberron shards, like some sort of ethereal database that eliminates much of the need for tedious hours of searching or huge rooms or dusty, rotting paperwork. Its rather clever but as you will soon see, it has a fairly serious security flaw.
It's me - I am the security flaw.
I made an absolute mess of my own banal questions as I lied about being a student. I should have really ought to have thought up a more coherent story before going in but it worked, regardless. I looked into his mind and found the authentication code. Just like that! Lurking on his surface level thoughts! Regardless of my own incompetance, I failed my way to victory.
I am not adept at lying most of the time, unfortunately and regardless of the calming armour, on no less than two occasions today, my ability to convincingly lie without making myself looking like an idiot failed. I shall need to practise lying more which in principle is a bad thing but practically necessary sometimes to avoid conflict which could cause further harm. Is it not better to tell a few lies to avoid someone being seriously hurt? It is...a philosophical quandry and I may drop in on Havakhad whilst I am in Sharn for some discussions on the matter. The longer I spend in Khorvaire, the more I find following the Path of Light complicated. My faith hasn't waned but I worry that I am not nessarily doing good. Good and evil are...a little harder to parse here. In Adar, its easier. There is one force of darkness to fight against and any good you carry out intrinsically fights against it. Sharing food with the farmers in during lean harvests, singing praises, meditation - its easier.
Lets take this situation as an example.
On the absolute base of this, we are stealing a sword. Which, is not right. I understand this. However, this sword does not belong to the ogre but Lozaal's people. Therefore, it is only right to take it back to who it really belongs with. Its a murky situation but I am sure I am on the right side of this. I think, at least. I could be terribly wrong and then I would be chipping away at the Path which is a bad thing. The ogre who found it naturally thought that Lozaal's people were gone. Until yesterday, I was under the impression that they were strictly historical as I seem to have misunderstood who Ekhaas was. I had initially thought that she was simply a hobgoblin reconnecting with her historical roots but this is incorrect. It would then make it some sort of base grave robbing. However, I cannot help feel a little shred of pity for the ogre since he is clearly ignorant. That being said, it is only a shred since he could have handed over the sword or even allowed us to buy it from him to ensure it is returned to Lozaal's people. Alas, this didn't happen.
Warden managed to gain information regarding the ogre's whereabouts which is in Lower Menthis. We decided to head down there to best formulate a plan of action and to scope out the house itself. After Dax using her wings to look inside and determine his room and to gum up the locks with chewed bread, it was a waiting game until Karg went to the library, returned and went to sleep. Dax, Warden and I stayed close by in a cafe. It seemed to be rather student heavy so I continued the pretence of being a student myself. The idea is somewhat growing on me, frankly, but I doubt I could afford it and I have no idea what I would study. I also am unsure how this would help on the Path or how it would help my companions. Perhaps there are courses on some sort of skills that would prove useful at home or in New Cyre or something. I made a note to take some leaflets and shove them into my rucksack.
Lozaal decided to go drinking. Which, if I am honest, confused me. We are here on a matter of importance specifically for his benefit, one that ought to require a certain level of clear-headedness and stability but I suppose I am not Lozaal. Once he met with us, he was fairly drunk and looked somewhat overly pleased with himself. I am glad he had fun dancing but we have a mission! I cleared his mind of the alcohol in order to give us the best chances of success. (He can go drinking again afterwards if he is so inclined). He was not best pleased but that is too bad. If we had been caught, we would have felt consequences - especially with what actually happened during the heist.
I stayed outside for most of it, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious and following on the telepathic channel. Not much was happened with a face from the past stomped into view. Two faces, I should say. The ettin from the Cogs from such a long time ago! They were here! And they recognised me! They called me capitalist scum, likely a reference for me preventing that factory owner from getting his legs broken as he was behind on protection money from whatever gang, I forget - it was a long time ago. I again was flustered with the situation and went with it despite severely resenting the term. I managed to inform the rest of them of their prescence and they appropriately hod. According to them, this ogre may be being looked after by this gang despite his protests. That may be some of the consequences I spoke of earlier. If that ettin puts 2 and 2 together, they may draw a connection between the sword disappearing and seeing me. I hope not but we shall see.
They left after a a while when they managed to sneak the sword from the ogre. Warden turned into another creature - a giant owl - in order to leave with it. For a moment, I saw the giant purple sword bobbing in the sky like a balloon. It was surreal. We all made our way away from the building. Warden flew outside of town where I confirmed he is safe and Zedd will confirm his location. Dax and I met back up at Clifftop and Lozaal...we believe he is back celebrating. I fully expect a hangover in the morning from him.
Regrets Inexplicable
14th Nymm, 998 YK
I do not have much to say today. This day has taken a lot out of me and I am not entirely sure how to manifest these into words, into coherent thoughts.
I attacked my friends. I killed Kelarth. Dah'mir got away and I could have stopped it. Tetkashtai is dead (or absorbed?). Virikhad is dead. Medala is seriously traumatised. Dah'mir could seriously screw up everything and this is down to me. I could have been a catalyst for il-Yannah knows how many terrible things because I find it hard to say no to him.
Looking at the previous pages in my journal turns my stomach. How could I be so easily captivated that I could justify to myself to hurt them? If Tzaryan had left us all in the ruins, would I still be so infatuated, so besotted like a silly girl? Would I have continued to stand by and do nothing as Warden is slowly killed in that light-forsaken tree? Would I have thrown more spells at Dax? Geth? Would I have continued to fight until the dust of the chamber was soaked in blood?
Part of me wishes I was human so I could hope that this was a horrible "nightmare" that I could awaken from but that is not the reality within which I live. I need to focus and take responsibility for this. I need to prevent this getting worse and then atone. What else can I do? Run and hide?
I feel...
I think I should speak to Geth. From what I've heard from him and Singe, perhaps he will...understand. Or perhaps he will be as disgusted as Singe seems to be with him.
I...
I can write no longer today. We need to get to Sharn. If I need to walk all day and night to try and get there before they do, it is the least I can do.
Elegy for Tetkashtai
14th Nymm, 998 YK
Down in the resting place of the great Dhakaani scholar, she passed
into Kashtai, fragments reunited and the soul faded away.
Her voice and flesh linger still like an echo off marble.
Separated and gone, still here and fighting, quantum bereavement
in which grief twists around the heart like strangling vines
choking out a brief goodbye.
I knew her from when I was young, skilled and headstrong -
bright light that could not be diluted or disputed.
Shining through sunny expressions, eager to see what is there.
So much potential now spent, the oil has ran dry.
And yet she lives still, between the new and old
mingled together like a new born child.
She followed me across the sea to such a strange place
and through actions grew fragmented and cold.
Her lover already passed, her fissure breathes still.
Side by side, we walk together as we once did.
She could have been reckless as a child or proud
in her works but she was still my friend.
il-Yannah greet what has fled and bless what remains.
The psi-crystal comforts where all else fails.
Lightning on Water
[To the tune of Hakuna Matata from the Lion King]
[WIND]
Lightning on Water!
What a wonderful ship
[VENNET]
Lightning on Water!
They've not gave the slip
[WIND]
We'll catch up with them
And then slaughter them all
[BOTH]
It's our guarantee - they'll try to flee!
Lightning on Water!
[WIND]
Why, when he was a young half elf
[VENNET]
When I was a young half eeeeeeeelf!
[WIND]
Very nice!
[VENNET]
Thanks!
[WIND]
He found his crew lacked a level of due respect -
they ran a coup and the first mate needs to be wrecked!
[VENNET]
I'm a sensitive soul, though I'm positive
And it hurt but I will make sure they don't live!
And oh, the pain
[WIND]
(They'll feel pain!)
[VENNET]
They called me insane!
[WIND]
(You're not insane!)
[VENNET]
And I know it sucked
[WIND]
(How did you feel?)
[VENNET]
But they'll soon be f-
[WIND]
Vennet! Not in front of the Revered!
[VENNET]
Oh... sorry...
[BOTH]
Lightning on Water!
What a wonderful ship
Lightning on Water!
It makes my heart go flip!
[KALSHANA cause why not join in on this nonsense!]
You'll soon catch up
and you'll make them pay
[WIND]
This isn't a trio...
[BOTH]
We'll have revenge, let's not pretend!
Lightning on Water!
Lightning on Water!
Lightning on Water!
Lightning...
It means follow Dah'mir
'til we get what we due
We know what to do, what he asks us to!
Lightning on Water!
Fiery
[to the tune of Shiny from Moana.]
[To Singe]
Well, Hrucann hasn't always been this glam
A nonchalant dolgaunt once
Now you know your little victory was a sham
Because I'm undying, baby
Did your General say, "Remember, keep cool"?
"Follow orders and keep in line"?
Looks to me that your General is a real tool
and let's hear you whine
I'd rather be fiery
I am nothing that any magic water could quell
Cast the spell and make it look fiery
I will burn like your latest dropped bombshell
What the hell, don't you know?
Y'all are dumb, dumb, dumb
You really think you'll be winners? Beginners!
Oh, and here they come, come, come
Your friends really should be quitters
Losing tastes bitter.
Singe, you're really screwed
Now let's end this bloodfeud
[Insert Terfel turning up and challenging Hrucann and then getting knocked out, lol]
Well, well, well
Little Terfel didn't take up my warning
You little tiny-whiny human boy
Ouch! What a terrible performance
Still mourning? (Get it?)
You don't swing it like you used to, man
Yet I have to give you credit for my start
And your tattoos on the outside
For just like you I made myself a work of art
I'll never hide, I can't
I'm too fiery
Watch me sizzle like a burning barbeque
Get a clue, you knew i'm so fiery
No Gatekeepers or mercs can hold me back
Cut them some slack, weaklings.
You could try, try, try
But you can't expect a mortal
To win in a cortile (Look it up)
You will die, die, die
Now it's time for me to take apart
Your aching heart
Far from the ones who you fight for in vain,
their memories of you are fading and fuzzy
You try to be tough
But your armor's just not hard enough
Terfel! Hear that? It's your death knell!
Ever seen someone so
fiery?
Soak it in cause it's the last you'll ever see
C'est la vie mon ami, I'm so fiery
Now I kill you so prepare your final plea
Just for me
You'll never be quite as fiery
You wish you were nice and fiery
Dah'mir
[to the tune of Macavity the Mystery Cat from Cats]
Dah'mir's so mysterious
He's called the Dear Revered
For he is the copper dragon
that all the wicked fear
He's the bafflement of Gatekeepers
the shifter's depair
for when they reach the sacred seal
Dah'mir's not there!
Dah'mir, oh Dah'mir
there's no one like Dah'mir
His knowledge surpasses all,
His mind knows nothing of fear
His powers of transformation
would make the fleshweaver stare
and when you reach the sacred seal
Dah'mir's not there!
You may seek him in the Marches
you may look up in the air
But I tell you once and once again
Dah'mir's not there!
Dah'mir's hide is copper scaled
he's very large and strong
you would know him if you saw him
for he is bold and headstrong
His eyes are green and pretty
His claws are sharp as a cat's
his scales are rusty from neglect
his reflexes are an acrobat's
He sways his head from side to side
With movements like a snake
And when you think he's half asleep
He's always wide awake!
Dah'mir oh Dah'mir
there's no one like Dah'mir
for he's a bird in human shape
a purveyour of atmosphere
You may meet him in the bone-mound
You may see him in his lair
and when a Zavkalaq's discovered
then Dah'mir's right there
He's outwardly respectable
with a voice like sweet carmel
And his footprints are not found
in any files of Sora Kell's
And they say that all the men
whose daring deeds are widely known
(I might mention Alina Lyriss
or the king of New Throne)
Are nothing more than children
for dragons beyond mortal ken
and just amuse his attention
like all elves, orcs, oni and men
Dah'mir oh Dah'mir
there's no one like Dah'mir
for he's a bird in human shape
a purveyour of atmosphere
You may meet him in the bone-mound
You may see him in his lair
and when a Zavkalaq's discovered
then Dah'mir's right there
Radiating Trouble WIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
In comparison to the days of walking with little in terms of change, today has been packed with...trouble, to say the least.
The Shining Valley is home to a community of harpies - these strange bird people.
Dah'mir
14th Nymm, 998YK
Copper scales hue hinting at soft mint green
and emerald eyes that pierce through the veil -
dark and light glints that hint at places seen
and unseen; the mountain, swamp and the vale.
That dark, confident voice, smooth as sateen,
that no naysayer could try to assail!
Wings flutter like heartbeats, somewhere between
a chaotic storm and a nightingale.
As a man, strong and unending. As bird
elegant and mysterious. And more!
What a notion that could be so absurd
that a secret soft heart could not ignore -
that sweet connection - loud and undeterred -
could be mutual? That I could adore?
and emerald eyes that pierce through the veil -
dark and light glints that hint at places seen
and unseen; the mountain, swamp and the vale.
That dark, confident voice, smooth as sateen,
that no naysayer could try to assail!
Wings flutter like heartbeats, somewhere between
a chaotic storm and a nightingale.
As a man, strong and unending. As bird
elegant and mysterious. And more!
What a notion that could be so absurd
that a secret soft heart could not ignore -
that sweet connection - loud and undeterred -
could be mutual? That I could adore?
Why Are My Friends Acting So Poorly?
14th Nymm, 998YK
I had to attack my friends today. It was not a decision I made lightly but it was necessary. They were attacking Dah'mir! How could they? In that moment, I knew my allegience and I cannot believe Terfel and Warden betrayed me! Singe...I do not know as well but given how rude he is to Geth then I suppose it cannot be that out of character for him. He's named Singe. He's going to have a fiery temperment, I suppose.
But Dah'mir is here! It was certainly a surprise and he brought the strange fiery creature (not Singe, the other one) and the half elf with him. Vennet is so upbeat, its a little infectious but again, I am not so sure why the rest of them are so dour. Surely its a wonderful serendipity that Dah'mir is also a dear friend of Tzaryan! It is indeed a small world. I wonder what knowledge dear Dah'mir would give Tzaryan. I'm sure it is very valuable as he is very clever. And strong! He injured the others so easily when they could have been sensible and dealt with this civilly. Tzaryan seemed so upset that the others wanted to fight them and I suppose the injuries sustained will act as a reminder of his strength and that they should get with reality. He didn't want to hurt them but they pressed the situation and paid the price. At least Warden had enough sense to stop what he was doing and surrender. I am sure once Dah'mir finds what he needs to in his hall, he will have a good talk with them and Warden and Terfel will feel so silly when they realised that they've had the wrong end of the stick the entire time.
I wonder if Dax is still watching the enterence. I'm sure we will bump into her. I truly hope that Dax is smart enough not to start a ruckus like Warden and Terfel. Her and Dah'mir are both lizardy so hopefully this will help them become fast friends! Perhaps Dah'mir could assist her with the Masvirik issue in Q'Barra. I would personally love to ask him to assist the fight against the Inspired but he has so much going on and he is so injured, it would be too much to ask. Perhaps once he is back to feeling himself, I could ask request. Perhaps he will not, he may be dealing with a situation beyond my knowledge and has no time for them. I have no interest in annoying him even if I think he could do so much for the good of Adar!
Is Dandra and Medala still in the Keep? I suppose some of the ogres will pick them up. I'm sure they will be thrilled to meet up with Dah'mir again. It's a shame - I barely spent any time with him compared to them. Still, I am here now and so is he.
Does he like poetry? I am sure he does. I don't know why but as dragon or heron, he has such a soothing prescence. I vaguely remember being filled with negative emotions but he has banished them away, like the wind clearing incense from the temple.
Kelarth is here. He is also friends with Dah'mir so I suppose he must be my friend too. He seems to be hurt - should I heal him? I feel like I should use whatever is in my power to heal Dah'mir first and then who he wants me to heal. I used to more or less follow Terfel but he is unconscious and clearly unfit to lead. Dah'mir is strong, wise and has prettier eyes (sorry Terfel, but it's true) and it feels just so easy to follow his orders. Defend him? Of course, I have already cast a spell. Heal him? He does not need to say a word and I will carry it out. Follow him into the ruins? No hesitation.
I would follow him into Dal Quor and I do not believe for a second that he couldn't reach it. All I need to do is follow his will. A good leader barks orders. A great leader doesn't even need to speak.
I should leave it here - we are about to reach the ruins. I wonder what he will make of the Grieving Tree!!
Melody On Water
22nd Eyre 998 YK
Chorus of dawn, lullaby of dusk
and endless light and song intertwined.
Undefined - the singers that speak
and whisper in harmony.
Ghosts or sirens; people or monsters -
the notes trickle languid down
the walls like moss, growing
and growing, demanding to be.
Tune through the static silence
and bold paint in synaesthesia.
Hope tied to the notes let loose -
that the journey is soon in coda.
and endless light and song intertwined.
Undefined - the singers that speak
and whisper in harmony.
Ghosts or sirens; people or monsters -
the notes trickle languid down
the walls like moss, growing
and growing, demanding to be.
Tune through the static silence
and bold paint in synaesthesia.
Hope tied to the notes let loose -
that the journey is soon in coda.
Tunnels...Again...
22nd Eyre 998 YK
At least when trudging through the mountains, the scenery would at least change now and then. These tunnels seem to be endless - rock upon rock upon damned rock. Sometimes smoothed away by those wretched roiling masses, sometimes rough, only softened with time itself. Sporadic patches of scrubby, withering weeds climb with long withered fingers through the cracks, aiming for any fragment of light. But the scene stretches on; never-ending. I have no idea how much further we could possibly go. The mountains are obviously very...voluminous and obviously any path through at the thickest section will take time. But even so, this seems to be somewhat endless. I half expect that when the tunnel opens up, we'll be in Sarlona and not Droaam!
Yesterday was a little more eventful although that is somewhat stretching the definition. Eventful used to mean simply that other monks would be visiting or that a local festival with the humans was underway. Eventful now means reaching into the recesses of Warden's mind and accidentally nearly collapsing the tunnel on my friends. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at this. I've been on Khorvaire for a while now and everything in its way is eventful. It is very busy with all sorts of schemes and villains working everywhere. Dah'mir is still out there. That Daelkyr is out there. Dax's Masvirik is out there. The Swords of Liberty are out there. The Dreaming Dark is out there as their messy, toxic tendrils have even reached here. All these wretched people out to carry out evil and dark things exist and that does not even cover the mundane evil of bandits and cultists and the cruel people with nothing better to do than cause misery for their own amusement. In Adar, it is far more simplistic. You have the Dreaming Dark on one site and ourselves on the other. The smattering of humans and the like are usually on our side, even from a distance. It's not as if we had a lot of contact with them as our mannerisms can be a little difficult to acclimatise too. Not that it has taken long for Terfel, Warden and Dax to get used to me but then again, it didn't take me long to get used to them either.
That damned book Warden has is cursed. It has to be cursed. It made him fall asleep! How is that even possible? I may not be the most educated person with regards to warforged physiology but I know that they do not sleep. Even if they wanted to! For such a book to do something like that is somewhat unnerving. I managed to get through to him which is something but it is perhaps something that should be quarantined. I know Warden made mention of taking it to his fellow Gatekeepers but who knows when we will strike out for them and it is still a danger. What if next time Warden has a coughing fit? Or sneezes? Or goes into a coma? Or what if someone else reads it? It should be kept safe and I have concerns if we can resist. Although, perhaps Warden will not read it again. Maybe having a bad dream will set him straight on the situation.
With regards to the tunnel, after a few hours of rather dull walking, I leaned against what I assumed to be solid rock for a momentary rest. The pillar gave way and rubble and a flood of water was spat out by the ceiling. Dax and Warden took the worst of it, being thrown down the tunnel by the wall of water. I managed to stand my ground even if I was soaked to the bone. I am just thankful my journal was kept dry. Think of all the memories and poetry that would be lost! I managed to scout the area by flying up. The pillar was under a lake which has unfortunately been somewhat dried out. If a lake could be so easily felled by being leaned on by a moderately strong woman then I suppose it was bound to happen eventually. Unfortunately, the flight did not indicate how far we still had to go.
And today...well, a roiling mass of malevolent gelatinous material was the highlight of the day. Even if the damned thing nearly injured Dax. Everything else was...more of the same.
Aside from the singing, of course. When it is daylight, there is the faintest hint of the most beautiful singing I have ever heard. Haunting and melodic, it seems to be getting louder the longer we are in tunnel. It at least gives me hope to meet the singers of that captivating song.
Mountains
21st Eyre 998 YK
It's been a while, hasn't it?
It's not that I didn't want to write but your energy sometimes wanes like the moons in the sky - that the words that could so easily fall for paragraphs on end are hampered; energy diverted to more pressing matters. Like walking and keeping watch. We seem to have at least reached our destination so that is some comfort. The Greywall Mountaints are a curious place. So foreboding to wander in, surrounded by green fields and forests. At night, you can see specs on the horizon of villages, light indicating that there is indeed other people out there. It reminds me of Adar, I admit. The mountains, the quiet. It is strange to suddenly be back within that quietness that accompanies the natural world. Sharn, Wroat, even New Cyre were so busy and noisy, you forget the subtle sounds of nature itself. Birds in trees, wind blasting through your hair, the smell of rain and mud. These are not absent in the busy places, obviously. But different, somehow. Out here, these are amplified, majestic compared to the mundanity of the ordinary wind that blows washing dry in New Cyre, the birds that seranade as you walk through through the upper reaches of Sharn. Imperceptibly the rain smells different in Wroat. Something more industrial in the air compared to out here. It is a terrible hike but in someway rather rrefreshing. Cleansing, almost. It makes you homesick for the land compared to Overlook which makes you homesick for the people. I am unsure how this is split but seems an important distinction.
Sharn wasn't that long ago but seems faded somehow in my mind. The bright lights, the illusions, the throngs of people going hither and dither all over the place. Like an ant hill but with advertising.
We waited in Clifftop for a day to meet again with this peculiar man. Did I mention him before? Let me check...
No, it appears not.
The most inconspicuous man I have ever seen met us in Clifftop a few days back. He tried so hard not to stand out by wearing a hooded cloak and hiding his face rather obviously from view. He certainly must have thought that speaking to us would be worth the trouble if he took such measures. By all accounts, the unionised action we participated in a little while ago has started ripples that cannot be seen but can be felt and it would appear that we may have upset some people, somewhere. Presumably. It would seem that no matter the action we take, no matter how minor or insignificant causes people to get upset with us on some level. I think and hope that this is a sign that we are doing good. People doing bad things will naturally be upset at people upsetting this in some way. It is as natural as a cat chasing a mouse or the grass grows towards the sun. It is avoiding upsetting good people accidentailly that will be our true trial.
Regardless, he brought in his first visit a new bow for Dax. Rather apt and a suspiciously good one too. Unsatisfied with this, he returned the next day with a replacement arm for Terfel after the symbiote...incident. It is unclear where he got these and why he things handing these expensive items to us - practically strangers - is a good thing for him but I should not look a gift horse in the mouth. Terfel has two arms again and Dax can be even more skilled with her bow. It has been rather useful, her hunting skills during the journey. I have tried meat here but it is...a lot to deal with so I generally avoid it but I know the benefit of additional food for the group means that rations stretch a little further. It is needed, practically speaking. Warden disagrees, naturally. In someways I am inclined to side with him but if someone is starving, who am I to tell them not to eat? Besides, it usually means more vegeterian foods for myself and I cannot really complain if my belly is full after hiking through mountains. I really cannot.
It does make me wonder what exactly...powers Warden? I know he does not eat. Does he absorb energy from the sun? From the planar and arcane energies that intermingle with the more mundane air that we cannot see? Does he have a large dragonshard in him and will this run out? It is a little perplexing. He is a person and yet does thinks that aren't person-y but this does not reduce his personhood. Perhaps I should speak more to Warforged to figure these things out. I imagine I could answer things about kalashtar in response. A fair trade.
We spent two days on an air ship. This great primal force tied to a ship and used to pull it from one place to another. Kind of like a horse if it could fly, I suppose. It lead to a lively debate between the captain and Warden. The captain called Warden a 'Judgy Jason'. Unsure what a Jason is but I imagine it is a more...colourful Khorvairian euphemism for something terrible. I am unsure how the primal feels or if it could. It is unfortunately a little beyond my knowledge but who knows? Perhaps they will have a tale to tell or perhaps this is fanciful. Before this journey, I would have thought speaking rats were also fanciful but that is no longer the case.
We leapt out of the ship with a feather token, rather like that trial we did for the Clifftop Adventurers. Dax immediately cast hers which meant she spent a rather long time descending unlike the others. I think we have all gathered now Dax has a fear of heights. Or falling. I quite like the feel of it - the air rushing, the scenery changing, adreneline pulsing through your body. It is part of the reason why I bought the skystaff. It's quicker than walking and I can fly around. What's not to like? Maybe in small steps I could help Dax with her fear? I am unsure how often we will be falling and flying through the air but it seems something prudent. I am unsure if the suggestion will offend, however. Perhaps I will leave it for now.
Still, after walking for a few days we seem to have reached the start of the cave. There is some illusions blocking the path but Warden wishes to read the book before continuing. Perhaps we will find out sometyhing useful!
Trudge
20th Eyre, 998YK
The rain tears down, mud thick under foot
as leg mechnically falls into place, monotonous
as grey and brown meld together; stone, field and sky
reflecting each into each, muddying the barriers between.
Churning feet, like oars parting the sea
arms pulled close for heat, for comfort against boredom,
as waiting and walking will not wane in this weather.
Spiralling out, thoughts replace action as the primary objective.
Destination, people, places, all so far away and
progress slow, marching on regardless, chipping away.
Let us reach the valley of Light. Let us reach this place
before we turn to stone, to mud, to grass, to rainclouds.
Guide our hands, guide our feet, guide our hearts.
Guide our souls, guide our minds, guide our eyes.
Shatter
15th Eyre, 998 YK
Fragment lost in the soul to be brought back
the seperation of Kal from Shana
is unthinkable; such a bond to wrack.
If split then to what mythic arcana
can mend and heal the spiritual crack?
Attempt made, failure to sweet hosanna
to that Bright Light Darkness cannot setback.
Reset, resitched again and all anew
to take up the mantle against the Dark.
Mind, let the failed attack wash over you
and fear not the cold bite nor the deep bark
of Daelkyr, of Inspired, old and new -
even in hopelessness, light can still spark.
The Bonds That Tie
15th Eyre, 998K
That...Daelkyr tried to sever the tie between myself and Shana. How is that even possible? The exact magic used to fuse the human and the quori are long since lost but to be possible to tear it apart? It certainly explains how my eye has been acting of its own accord since...well...it had it's own accord. It's own consciousness. It is strange to think of an eye with it's own consciousness but given that symbiont that attached itself to Terfel had it's own consciousness, perhaps I am being to quick to judge. It makes me concerned that something like that...has that power. It increases my concern for Medalashana, Tetkashtai and even Virikhad are in danger if there more of these out there. I do not know what would happen to us if we were separated. If even the Enlightened Havakhad is unsure, it makes me uneasy. Perhaps I should find them but I could just endanger them further as well as my new friends. I was little use facing off against that...thing...then how much use could I be in facing more of these damn things? If Warden's people are fighting these then they will require all the help we can muster. I thought the dolgrims were bad and I even thought that that...thing was bad before I truly knew the extent of the damage, of it's intent.
It was somewhat unpleasant to sleep in the library, knowing that the creature could technically be so close. I know that it is not close but if it could easily put a hand through into this world and close a portal like a child closing a curtain, what else could it carry out? They seem certain that the Orerry mechanism holds it back sufficiently - or at least trapped in that small room. My sleep was relatively uneventful, fragments of memories of my ancestors scattered in sleep.
Nothing untoward happened during the night, thank il-Yannah, so we continued to dismantle the abomination. Lei seemed to use her porcelain friend to note down but I am unsure whether we actually know anyone that could theoretically stitch it back together. Or why we would even want to do that. I see no reason why we would ever want to step foot into that doorway again or even consider stepping through the portal, if it is still there. It does not make sense but at least I was more than capable of destroying parts of the mechanics with my mace. The cogs were easy enough to put some dents in but the glass representing the moons...proves to be significantly tougher than it looks. A strong blow with the mace on one of the smaller ones chipped away and cracked the ball but they are very solid. The group decided to take two of the smaller moons as a precaution and Dax helped herself to some of the more delicate mechanisms to decorate her armour. I am not sure if these provide any additional shielding but they look rather pretty. And if removing such cogs and things makes it more difficult to rebuild then all the better for it!
We slowly made out way up from the depths under Highwalls to the upper levels. It feels like I've not seen natural daylight in so long, the crisp air feels is much more real in your lungs compared to the inherent dampness of below. Olalia seemed to be in awe as we ascended Sharn. I suppose it must have been a long time since she arrived and I am not sure whether she had seen much of the city before being squirrelled away in Highwalls with that arch bastard. We stopped off at Clifftop to drop off the books before continuing on the path. We passed through other districts that I have not been through yet and saw a rather...strange site. The elves here seem to be rather morose, rather morbid in nature, daubing themselves with skulls and the like. Their guards seem to be actually dead but still walking. Or it is just very intimidating make up, perhaps. I did not want to linger too long on their faces to decipher this correctly. Olalia certainly didn't want to tarry too long in this place.
We eventually reached Clifftop and Lhara assisted with the books, allowing us to place these in their vault. Apparently, she knows some people who could place a value on these for us. It was privately discussed that we would avoid providing these to the gnome woman however, I am getting ahead of myself again. I will discuss her more later. Lhara also offered another job for that fellow we get the fire idol for. He wants us to charge up an amulet with energy in the mountains not too far from here. It apparently comes from the Plane of Light. I am not sure what to make of it, if I am honest. These planar investigations are all well and good when it is strictly elemental but not all planes are strictly elemental. I do not imagine that he would have power to even find a manifest zone for Dal Quor - would those even exist? If they did, they would likely be in Sarlona somewhere - but this business with Xoriat...and who knows what other horrors and dangers lurk in the other planes? Even elementals can cause such chaos and just to satisfy someone's curiosity? I suppose I cannot see any issues in light. Light is good.
We headed to Overlook, as partially described earlier. Before stitching my conscious mind together like torn cloth, Havakhad accepted the prospect of Olalia joining. She seemed so happy that she could understand him as he spoke telepathically. Not only can she stay but he is willing to attempt to try and cure her of her affliction. I did not expect to see such a happy conclusion for this situation but I am glad to have facilitated this in some way. It also shows the treachery of Terel. To tell Olalia there is no hope, that the only thing to do is to stick with his fetid little plan. She has hope now and she will no longer be alone or struggle for the time being.
We left this happy scene to meet with the gnome. Aliana? Alana? Alyna? I do not know her name nor do I care to know her name. She had been watching some how and seemed to delight in twisting the knife with Daine. She has a new bird as well. There is something very unbirdlike about these birds she has. It is rather like the black herons but I cannot explain why. There was much reluctance to hand over the vials containing the dragonmarks. She claims the shards are within but we cannot know that. Terfel and Dax made it clear we would not hand these over and simply accepted it. It is somewhat unnerving to watch so I do not doubt we will cross paths again.
Daine and Lei were very cross with each other after we left. Lei was hurt that Daine hid part of his identity but Daine seemed fairly clear on why. These Houses seem awful - I am glad they are non-existent in Adar or anywhere else. They hold far too much sway, too much pressure on the people who so happen to manifest one of their magical birthmarks. They reconciled, with assistance from Pierce and the others. They seem set to travel to New Cyre with any refugee who wishes to. They will still be in tents but there is at least a good chance to move on and rebuild there. Sharn does not seem concerned in the slightest.
The day has seemed to pass quickly in comparison to the rest but with the money earned, I bought myself a broom of flying. And a fair bit of cheese. The mild cheddar can be a bit overpowering but it is delicious.
No.
14th Eyre, 998 YK
So, that's what Warden's people have been fighting all along. Those things. My mind can barely keep up with it, like it was understandable but incoherent and painful. Every syllable, every fragment of a word, every like seared with pain.
I no longer want to keep my promise with Terfel. I do not care why this place is here, it needs to go. I do not know the extent of its power but that...that thing...
Warden agrees. Warden would always agree. That's why he decided to be a gatekeeper. Sensible. I thought I would not meet anything that was as terrifying as the Dreaming Dark but the wonderful thing about going to new places is that you learn. You learn. What if one of those things joined forces with the Dreaming Dark and the Inspired? Unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable.
Maybe influenced a little by my inability to not speak in anything beyond a scream, Terfel cut his arm off. Correction: We were in a seperate room, discussing what to do when Pierce went to look for him and at Terfel's request, cut off his arm for him. It was for the best since that abomination that leeched onto his arm was not good but it will make things somewhat awkward for Terfel until we can get him a replacement arm.
I still remember its face. It hurts to remember.
No, have to focus. Others have mentioned my eye has been acting strange. Wandering, doing it's own thing. Not to draw conclusions but maybe it's related to that horror I witnessed or maybe its a coincidental eye illness. I am not sure but I do not like to think about having one eye. Greykell seems to manage okay but still. Hopefully it will calm down in the morning.
We destroyed the grell, the vats and removed the books. Lei is in the process of dismantling the orrey to prevent...whatever that was coming back.
It is late. It has been a day.
Fv doha aol mbjr?
14th Eyre, 998 YK
endless screaming
it asked my name
endless screaming
what i am
endless screaming
it does not know what a kalashtar is
endless screaming
it wished me a good day
endless screaming
and closed the door
endless screaming
endless screaming
endless screaming
endless screaming
endless screaming
endless screaming
Books
14th Eyre, 998 YK
So Terfel has a symbiont now. That is...well, it could go either way. On the one hand, change isn't necessarily bad and it could be a beneficial relationship and on the other it is from the same place as those mind flayers and dolgrims. Not that I really should hold that against it, should I? If any of my companions looked at a quori, they would be repulsed, would they not? Even if they followed the Path of Light? Something horrifying to look at does not advise what is in their heart, mind and soul. Just as someone who is pretty could be an utterly terrible person. Like that gnome woman or Dah'mir.
On an up note, I also received some new armour. Sure, it has a slight chitinous feel to it and it did come off the mind flayer corpse but it would be a shame to waste such good armour, nobody else would use it and if the mind flayer wanted to keep the armour, he shouldn't have tried to kill us. We also found most of the shards, I think, on him. More interestingly, there are a tonne of books here. At a glance, it seems to be mostly transfiguration books but some are in languages I do not understand. We decided to leave this place until later, after looking through the remaining parts of the laboratory.
Through the door is some strange orrey. Thirteen moons (which is strange as there are only twelve) orbit the planet. It is absolutely beautiful, even if inaccurate. What is strange is parts of it light up when Terfel started moving it. I am not sure what he was doing but it seemed to be more the Arm and not the actual Terfel deciding to do this. We stop with the uncertainity, deciding to also leave this to later.
The facility is so much more larger than expected. Multiple operation rooms, cells, observation rooms, even some dorms. I decided to take a bone saw from one of the operating rooms. You never know when such a thing would come in handy. However, I did allow myself to vent some frustration by smashing some of the vats which Warden kindly assisted me with. If this group have more members than Terel and Hugal, it seems wise to at least delay them in their efforts until they are hunted down. Change is all well and good but not like this.
The observation room was the most interesting thus far. Some creatures stuck submerged in some weird liquid. Again, they look...strange. Like bits of people randomly stitched together and called a creature. Like necromancy almost. I walked over to Terfel who seemed to be lost in thought. Or multiple thoughts as it so happened since both the arm and the Terfel has a conscious that was in a debate. I offered to assist him since he had somewhat agreed with the arm to release the ones that were friendly, in the arm's words. The others the arm seemed less keen on so was happy for us to kill them. If they are hostile and dangerous, then no harm in killing them but by all accounts, they will be tricky to deal with. We manage to dispatch the two brains with legs but the other we have left for now since it is the most powerful.
I then decided to follow Warden and Lei back to the library. We thought that by looking further into these symbionts and such like, it would make things a bit less confusing. Unfortunately, thinsg got even more confusing a book just gave me a headache when trying to read it. It's in a language that doesn't seem to make much sense to any of us.
We are going to look at the books some more and maybe have a look at the orrey.
Silence
14th Eyre, 998 YK
In the dark, mouth closed by mourning
there is a silence that cannot be broken.
Isolation in stone from mist and murk
only met with psionic handwaves
music with unintelligible lyrics filter
through, words from friends and family
make no sense. Adrift in oceans,
waves against the shore crash
in a cacophany of nihilistic noise.
Understanding clutching to driftwood
but now out of sight; dipping from the
horizon. Speak and no sound; scream
silently. Alone in crowds that cannot hear
and you cannot grasp like before.
Thought turns to conversations
about petty things, gossip, idle chat.
How to exchange these wasted words
for something to be understood now?
The Flayed Man and The Flayed Mind
14th Eyre, 998 YK
Just when I think I understand this Light-forsaken continent, it throws this at me.
We got through the sewers quickly and were reunited just as quickly with Daine and Llyr. Daine was extraordinarily angry, fuming at the situation, at Lei being missing, at Terel being a hidden enemy, at everything I think and I do not think I can blame him one bit for that. With time being of the essence, the group splits - Pierce and Daine take Llyr out of this mess and we descend further into the facility to find Lei being strapped to a table by Terel.
Terfel sneaks across but he is soon discovered. He tries to act far more diplomatically than perhaps I had expected. It started bizarrely genteel at the start, a theoretical debate on the nature of reality until Terel besmirches the name of the Gatekeepers as being idiots and the like and Warden did not appreciate that one little bit. He came out to add his thoughts on Xoriat and the Daelkyr and all those tangental concepts that seem a little far away from this laboratory in sewers of a city. I suppose it is difficult to side with Terel. Even when change is not necessarily a bad thing - certainly the quori who became my people fundamentally changed those humans, the argument is slightly hampered by murdering people for their dragonmarks. Whatever good that could have came from the changes does not justify murder of innocent lives. The debate rages on for a bit, neither side relenting in their certainity of being correct. It was inevitable that a fight would break out.
Teral transforms from relatively ordinarily looking human into a walking wound, something warped in raw, skinless flesh and sinew, a tentacle crawling from where his arm used to be and a long, poisonous tongue that had more than gossip and insults to dish out.
It goes partially as expected until his 'lord' appears. A creature appears. He appears. I have flashbacks to being in that place with Dah'mir, the crystal, the dolgrims and dolgaunts, everything. His calm, clear voice mentions he was not expecting guests. Pain seared through me, my ears ringing with noise I could barely comprehend with flashes of Medalashana, green eyes and these other daelkyr abominations flooded my consciousness. I could feel myself be faint, the world lurching sideways and static filling my ears. Everyone looked worse for wear - this was not going well.
Wehn the pain subsided, all I could do was cast a spell I had only started to really grasp recently and cast some psionic magic of my own. It seemed to work as the mindflayer started to flee and Dax ended him with a shot to the head. Terel was quickly dispatched but parts of him seemed to remain alive as his skin, tentacle and tongue seemed to have a life of their own. Fortunately, these could hardly put up a fight.
Hugal fell down the stairs, very much dead. The reason for his sudden deathly appearance was made clear as Daine follows, freely Lei who had been drugged. I am not sure what manner of concotion she was given but we have barely explored this facility. I am not sure how familiar mindflayers are with money and infrastructure but I somehow doubt that they had paid for construction of this place. It makes me wonder who did, and why. Did they also want to create such abominations? I suppose any works that were legitimate in nature could be put elsewhere. Perhaps that is naive given the stratification of Sharn. Still, couldn't they find somewhere before this than a sewer?
We are resting before investigating further. Who knows what other abominations are left in the facility. However, I have thought of something. Olalia seemed upset that Terel was dead - even if we was rather horrible to her, he was her only window to the world. I tried to comfort her the best I could and let her know I would take her to Overlook, if she wanted. At least if she is among the kalashtar, everyone can speak to her and understand her and the conditions alone would be a world away from Highwalls. It's not luxury but its comfortable and I am sure she would be able to find some work and lodgings this way. A better life than this, a happy ending for someone for once.
Sewers
14th Eyre, 998 YK
Clean;
spotless and clean
yet the stench of decay
lingers still.
Winding;
paths travelled only
by refuse and desperate
escaping the ooze.
Thin;
thin spiderlike pipes
connect everywhere,
feeding it.
Many;
Many places to
hide and hide and hide
from all unseen.
End;
this is the end of so
much life in Sharn
ferried away
into water,
into rivers,
into oozes,
into the dark.
Terel Is A Total Bastard
14th Eyre, 998 YK
I do not have much time, we will be leaving for the labatory that Olalia knows about. Stupid, how could I be so stupid to not try to mindlink with her before? Perhaps I shouldn't be so harsh to myself but we could have sorted this entire mess out days ago and some people could still be here.
We left Highwalls and went down to Blackbones to chat with the warforged to see if there was any suspiciously skinless men hanging around and to see if there was anywhere that was conspiciously abandoned. Neither offered any leads but Blue - the barkeep at the warforged tavern - advised that there was no real direct routes to Khybers Gate from Highwalls. Unless, of course, you count the sewers.
Again, it seems so obvious now. The bodies were dumped in the sewers - why not have the base of operations there as well? Few people go into the sewers, seems the best sort of place to hide something like that and you have a handy waste disposal unit just outside.
Blue pointed us in the directions of the goblins. Some of them earn some coin by scavenging in the sewers so might have seen something or - perhaps more likely - know of Rhazala. This lead did not turn up anything aside from advising to look around in Malleon's Gate most goblinoids live in Sharn. Even then, no guarentee of finding her or anyone who saw anything. It made more sense to try and lure out the perpetrators using Terfel as bait. After all, whilst a little better dressed than some of the refugees, people would have him pegged as just another Cyran refugee and they have already tried to kidnap once before.
We slowly - and seperately - made our way across Highwalls whilst Terfel tried to make himself look...alone and kidnappable. It did not go as planned as we found Pierce deactivated. Warden healed him before Pierce quickly explained that Daine, Lei and Llyr have been taken. Terfel took the news stoically but it was clear that we would be needing to sort this sooner rather than later.
That's when we noticed Olalia. That's when I decided to try and mindlink with her when our attempts at communication being written language failed. She couldn't understand anything - any written or spoken language. She could only understand Terel because he is - amongst other things - telepathic. She seemed astounded that she could understand me and she wanted to help us. I smiled at her - I will need to help her more once this is over with. Even if Terel lives at the end of this, I am going to ensure he is kept away from her at all costs. She deserves better and she's been through so much.
I have to go. It ends today.
Her.
14th Eyre, 998 YK
Count the six birds in her room, see them fly
and fail to defy their ornate cages.
Alina! Mystique that transcends ages
and yet a threat muttered upon the sigh.
Power corrupts and yet all signs are shy.
Stories untold but lessons burn pages
and all know when and when not to engage
lest consquences begin to apply.
Wealth, intellect and beauty, triple threat
lurk in the pleasant, crimeless part of Sharn.
Indigo eyes peer and do not forget.
Her hair soft as clouds and heart hard as skarn -
mining is a dangerous game, regret
is worthless when preventing birds from harm.
Gnome Hospitality
14th Eyre, 998 YK
That gnome woman is...peculiar. She manages to elicit a sense of danger, of that you are somehow in deep trouble just by standing there and being overly polite, by being a gracious hostess. It is the most unsettling thing I have seen today and I have seen a rather lot of...unpleasantness this morning.
I am getting ahead of myself I think.
The day started with discussing Daine's dreams and the theories and the like. It seems to be a deliberate targetting of dragonmarked folk who wouldn't be missed; refugees and the like. They seem to be stealing their marks which is apparently unusual. I do not pretend to understand what these mark things are but I can imagine that given that they give additional power, there will always be people eager to seek it out. Dragonmarks - apart from abherrants - seem to be somewhat related to birth lines but not entirely so it is not something you could ordinarily just purchase or train to get. They happen, a circumstance of birth and chance. But if they can be removed, could they be transferred to someone else?
We had a quick look in the sewer where they found Jode's body but there was no clues. There are oozes in the sewers which consume everything in its path so it is perhaps not surprising that no clues remain. When we asked who found the corpses initially, we were told a homeless goblin girl named Rhazala found them. She was known to Terfel's friends and seemed to be in a more desperate situation than the refugees, if that is possible. We have no clue where this poor child is in this city but she's likely to be in the lower reaches. It is not much to go on but even if she saw a glimpse of someone or something unusual, it may help. Terfel spoke further with Lei, going into such things like prophecies and sphinxes and Daine fought a minotaur at one point. I am unsure how much this helps aside from Jode being told to find a key between two stones? The idea of trying to find two stones that only Jode could find in an entire city is somewhat daunting.
We eventually agreed to meet up with Alina as the next port of callin the investigation since she was bankrolling their initial works. Terfel left his son behind - I know he has seen much but he is still a child after all. We were in the lift when two beggars joined with us. These who were apparently of House Tarkanan. Its not a Dragonmark House I have heard of but I have came to understand that this may be a colloquialism. Regardless, two of their people were similarly killed like Jode - head caved in, brain matter missing, dragonmark gone. These two marks sound rather familiar - fire and a deathly touch - sound rather like the powers that those approached by the flayed man blessed them with. Far too many coincidences at this stage. I just wish we could find this skinless man, everything else would likely fall into place and we can stop any further unnecessary deaths.
The two beggars left, advising to speak to a rat if we were in trouble. If only we could have taken a rat in with us to Alina!
Alina lives in the gnomish district. It is remarkably quiant in comparision to the rest of the city. We were barely there for a few moments when we were given a letter with instructions to speak to a gardener in burgandy and gold. Even the gardeners in this area seem to be of a high status! It almost makes me feel rather out of place in my priestly garb. I am unsure if these insecurities are similarly felt by my companions but this was hardly the time and place to discuss this.
Not that the gnomes wanted to discuss anything with us. As soon as Alina's name was mentioned, they would be silent, scurry away as if the very act of saying her name would somehow summon her and her wrath. I had only heard about bits about her from Terfel and his friends but the reaction here did not bode well. Powerful, secretive. After a fair amount of trying, we eventually decided to track down this gardener. He was casually attending to some roses that were on fire. He didn't seem awfully concerned by the fact that the flowers were literally on fire. Maybe it is some strange rose breed in Khorvaire that appear to be on fire? I am hardly educated on the flora and fauna of this place. At least, this is what I foolishly thought until what happened next. Warden muttered the keyword and the rose bush moved away to reveal a tunnel. We clamboured in and eventually met with a door. We opened it to be met with the strangest room. Mirrored, almost entirely, with a window pointing to a view of the river which...shouldn't be possible. Some very plush looking chairs and six birds in very ornate cages. They seem to be...very still. For birds.
Eventually, the woman whose name seemed to strike fear into the hearts of many walked through the mirrored wall. She has a reflection but we do not. It is...disconcerting. She offers us refreshments, alcohol and something that I believe is a controlled substance. We decline, naturally. I don't know what it is about her made her prescence very felt. Very fine clothes, jewellery worth more than many of the people's outside thsi room's wages for three years scattered over her body like it was nothing. Vivid purple eyes seemed to be able to measure you up rather quickly and it certainly gave the impression that we should not - under any circumstances - screw her over. She hasn't been anything but polite to us but there is a dangerous weight to the gestures that would not be found elsewhere.
Alina discussed theory with us for a while, thinking that the operation will be sprawling and unlikely to be in Highwalls but will be squirrelled away somewhere out the way. It makes it somewhat easier to strike off places where they could be. Large places relatively near Highwalls that would be unnoticed are in somewhat limited supply, unless you start looking in the Cogs.
Ultimately, she wants the dragonshards that she believes are being used in the process. This was the job Terfel's friends were originally working on before we arrived and before Jode and the thief ended up dead in the sewer. We agree and head back down to Highwalls. It is relatively without incident but Terfel is now asking with Terel about any places that he could think of. Hopefully, Terel can think of something that can assist.
Nightmares
13th Eyre, 998 YK
It has been...an increasingly strange day, I must admit. How can I travel from the lows of being injured to the highs of being so close to Lakashtai in the matter of a few hours? With fights and a spiritual awakening inbetween no less? I wonder if tomorrow will be so eventful!
We made our way up to the Shrine of il-Yannah at the top of the tower. The Enlightened Havakhad met us and spoke to us about various things, including Terfel's apparent latent psionic ability and my own movement down the Path of Light. I had no idea that Terfel has any psionic ability but it does not come from Dal Quor. It should be interesting to see how his abilities develop. I am not sure if I can help him as such, given that mine are directly from Shana, I can always try at the very least. Whilst the discussion with this wise man has assured I have not strayed from the Path, that perhaps I have disconnected somewhat with Shana and my people. It has been good to reconnect in Overlook but I should try to connect more to Shana withotu having to abide here. I made my prayers and meditations and my spells seem to change in response to the stimulus. Less fire and rage and more psionic, a more delicate way to influence this world for the better. Something subtler. However I approach this must be align with the Path. I have not strayed but I may be dawdling towards a side path if I do not pay attention.
Rejuvinated, we headed back down to find that Warden had been conversing with the seagulls, much to the concern of the rest of the kalashtar. The seagulls were apparently very informative, advising Warden that the herons were incredibly suspect. They would do minimal bird activities but more or less just watch everything. Dax decided that we needed to check to see if these birds were really what they seemed. She used her ladder to reach up and grab one. Unlike any other bird who would protest - to put it mildly - a lizardfolk picking them up, the herons barely moved at all. She decided that to perform the autopsy, they would need to somewhere quieter. We had made ourselves far too obvious here and did not want to impede on our welcome. Terfel had found out that the lovely Lakashtai was not particularly known around Overlook. It seems a strange thing - how could anyone miss Lakashtai? Perhaps her parents were not heavily involved with Overlook. There could be a lot of reasons for that. Who is to say that every kalashtar must reside beside the rest of the kalashtar?
I am getting side tracked. Dax took the bird and we walked from Overlook to the next district. Only when we crossed over into the next did the bird get upset in any way. Whilst it was acting peculiar for a bird, Dax made quick work in putting it out of its misery. The autopsy provided no clues, unfortunately. The bird was a bird was a bird. The feathers seemed to be slicked in a black oil but Dax theorises this is allows water fowl to keep dry. It makes sense, especially since these birds are native to swamps and the like. It is still somewhat...unnerving, the behaviour of the thing!
After disposing of the carcass, we decided to follow the lead to Hareth's Folly, I think the name of the district is. Such a comparison to Overlook and High Walls! The architecture varies wildly in nature, drawing on inspiration from seemingly all directions and all places. It feels rather exotic in nature, even if I am not sure where many items of the architecture hail from, exactly. Bridges and ropes seem to clutter the sky like a bizarre tapestry. Wandering through, we managed to get to the place known as the King of Fire. Naturally, there was a lot of fire motifs. It is what is known as a casino which is a house in which people get drinks and play games for money. We had barely stepped inside when we saw her.
Lakashtai. Long raven hair and some of the prettiest green eyes I've seen. She seems to draw in your mind to her - she is powerful, that is certain. Perhaps I shouldn't be that surprised if she was able to rouse Daine from his coma but it has been a while since I have met another kalashtar that seemed to draw attention in such a way, effortless, mesmorising. She spoke briefly with Terfel as they played a game but I confess I wasn't paying attention to what they were talking about or doing. I only started paying attention when Terfel indicated we should leave.
Meeting with Lakashtai outside, she explained that the crystal is the remains of Monan, a few fragments left of his mind as he had try to possess Daine. She intervened and killed him to save Daine. It is Daine's body, after all. Certainly explains why I could feel such emotions from it. She theorised that the crystal could
be used as a battery, some form of power source for a spell. I am not sure what spell I should use this for but given the nature of the crystal, it would only be fitting to use it for a spell that means something, some form of minor redemption for Monan in the end. Definitely explains why I couldn't awaken him anyway if there is no mind in there so awaken. Terfel initially pondered whether we could communicate with the remains of Monan to learn more of what is going on but Lakashtai rejected his hypothesis, instead advising that Daine might have some memories that may be more useful to our investigations, even if Daine remains unaware. The mind - when dealing with particularly unpleasant things - suppresses them, tidies everything away out of sight as a way to cope. It's not something that is a conscious decision but something that just...happens. It makes sense that Daine might have something that may help. Even if he doesn't, it's worth a second chance at the subject since I am not sure where the investigation would go after this. Lakashtai offers her services to look around in Daine's mind. She initially says 100 gold. When Terfel suggests a lower price, she comes to 50 gold...and a kiss from me.
I can't really adequately express my reaction to this but I agreed. Obviously.
She took the gold and advised we should head down to High Walls. We climbed back down and met up with the group of Terfel's friends. Lei and Pierce were awake but Daine was asleep in his tent. Terfel woke him up and explained the reasoning about bringing Lakashtai down, how this could bring us a lead in what exactly happened with Monan, with Jode, with this whole mess. Daine agreed before stumbling back into his tent. After a while, it became apparent he was sleeping once more. Lakashtai - graceful, elegant - started to cast her spell, going into a trance, a few fragments of words passing her lips. Groans rose from the tent; Daine was having a nightmare. It was...uncomfortable to listen to. I've heard people have nightmares before in New Cyre but it is still rather uncomfortable to think about. It makes dreaming a double edged sword for those who...well, can. Sometimes it sounds lovely, to have these strange dreams in which the familar and the fantastic intermingle in nonsensical ways. But those can easily be turned for the unpleasant, easily turned disturbing or even scary.
She opened her eyes before walking over, cupping my face in her hands and kissing me. It was soft, so soft, but I couldn't quite stay in the moment as I saw Daine's dream. Highwalls morphed away, time racing back to before we arrived. Daine, Greykell, Lei and Pierce were walking towards a tavern called the Manticore when Monan (or Hugul) stops him. I could see them unable to attack, Monan gloating about how he will take over Daine's mind, get rid of him and then dump his body when a better model comes along. I can feel his shock, his anger as if it was my own. High Walls slips away and we are in a place I do not recognise. Something tells me this is Cyre but I am unsure whether this is a guess or whether this is fact. An older, distinguished gentleman - Monan in disguse - appears, his grandfather by all accounts. Taunting, fighting Daine with a sword with a symbolI cannot place but Daine feels rather strongly about. Guilt, shame, anger - the echoes of unresolved tension ripple in the dream and Monan takes this to his advantage but it is clear that Daine has no patience for these mind games as he slays the man pretending to be his grandfather.
The dream starts once more, back outside the tavern. Daine's anger unsubsiding - clearly not wishing to lay down and be removed from his own mind. Even Monan seems to be aware of this and decides to try a different tactic. Highwalls again shifts into a rather opulant looking house. I assume this is in Cyre once more. I do not quite know who the house belongs to, exactly, but Daine is rather confused when the owner does not appear but Lei does. Monan appears to think Daine would not attach Lei which is correct. Things were about to turn for the worst before I could hear Lakashtai's voice cut through the room, clear as a bell, celestial almost. She advises Daine to look away which he takes on board. There is...horrfic screaming, screaming like I have never heard before and I have heard a fair bit in my life. I can still hear it - Lei's morphing into Monan's voice, agony in every decibel. It makes you feel very cold, when thinking on it.
When the scene returns, when I return to the real Highwalls with everyone around, Lakashtai is still moving away. It felt like hours in that dream but may have only been a few seconds. I think I may have swore after 'returning'. I do not hear Daine havinga nightmare anymore so I hope that he gains some comfort from this. I let everyone know what I saw and the others seemed to pick up a little more from the details than I did. They didn't say anything specific but you could see the brief changes in their face when something they recognise (or some cases, do not recognise at all) was mentioned. Lakashtai left quietly and it feels empty again, the world suddenly mundane once more somehow. She is very close to Kashtai, that is obvious. I wonder how she does that?
i should sleep, it is a long day tomorrow and I think we are inching closer to finding out what exactly is going on here. Hopefully.
Lakashtai
13th of Eyre, 998 YK
In dark tresses, her face is framed like art -
a familiar yet new sensation.
Green eyes that pierce through to the soul, the heart.
Eyelashes whisper quiet flirtation
and dreams that soft lips gracefully impart,
a price paid in strange and new elation.
Heart beating fast, visions begin to start
to be taken to a new location.
His floating memories flutter on by
like petals floating in the summer breeze.
Disturbing to see, calmed with a soft sigh
as her image shifts back now, mind at ease.
I still feel the warm hands of Lakashtai,
gone now, still with me, yearning for reprise.
a familiar yet new sensation.
Green eyes that pierce through to the soul, the heart.
Eyelashes whisper quiet flirtation
and dreams that soft lips gracefully impart,
a price paid in strange and new elation.
Heart beating fast, visions begin to start
to be taken to a new location.
His floating memories flutter on by
like petals floating in the summer breeze.
Disturbing to see, calmed with a soft sigh
as her image shifts back now, mind at ease.
I still feel the warm hands of Lakashtai,
gone now, still with me, yearning for reprise.
Gathering Light
13th Eyre, 998YK
Calming voices, familiar and yet
unfamiliar still. Gathering Light -
shining beacon in Sharn, a sweet vignette
to beloved Adar. Faces, warm, bright
in candlelight. Psionic singing sets
the incense mood. Questions - soft and polite
sweeten the food. Diners cast silhouettes
that dance across the hall. Community!
What a warm closeness that can be found here!
To be close and focussed in unity
is as joyous as sweet birdsong to hear.
Let the lesson spread with impunity
and let the example reach every ear!
unfamiliar still. Gathering Light -
shining beacon in Sharn, a sweet vignette
to beloved Adar. Faces, warm, bright
in candlelight. Psionic singing sets
the incense mood. Questions - soft and polite
sweeten the food. Diners cast silhouettes
that dance across the hall. Community!
What a warm closeness that can be found here!
To be close and focussed in unity
is as joyous as sweet birdsong to hear.
Let the lesson spread with impunity
and let the example reach every ear!
Homesickness
13th of Eyre, 998 YK
It has been many months since I saw my homeland and I suppose I have been a little homesick. After a while, you lose something. I can still feel the cool mountain air, the smell of the grass and trees, the singing of sweet birds in the air. I can still recall the smell of the dormitories, that pine tar soap smell that the soap over here can't quite replicate. The food that is just right, the people you can easily speak to, the all these little things seem to get lost in amongst the reality of everything else.
This all comes into clear focus in Overlook. We made it to the kalashtar district in Sharn after an eventful morning where we went to meet with Terfel's friends in High Walls when we were attacked by ridiculously polite kidnappers working for some skinless person. It is rather disturbing since some of them seem to ahve been coerced to be there and then some exploded. Which, to confirm, was not meant to happen. I didn't cast the spell and neither did Warden. It appears they have been injected by some "skinless man" with this volatile liquid. Some seemed to be quite content to play the part of a kidnapper and some seemed to be in a strange fugue state, quite unsure how or why they were there. It is clear that there is something going on - perhaps related to the dragonmarks? It's the only thing we can think of that sets Terfel aside from the rest of us. That and his duty in the last War may have influenced it. That being said, the kidnappers themselves were Cyran so why would they attack their own veteran? It doesn't make sense and this skinless person certainly does not help. Naturally, we dealt with the kidnappers as best as we could. Warden managed to calm one of them down enough to allow him to run. With this rumination on my tactics, it makes me start to wonder if what I am doing is correct. That all this fire and flame is not as well aligned to the Path of Light as it should be. A change is required, perhaps. And it is with the good grace of il-Yannah that I have that ability to change and given a perfect opportunity. However, I am getting ahead of myself here.
We made our way over to Daine, Lei and Pierce. Terfel briefly left to discuss with Terel - he should be able to help those poor people who's meager possessions have been damaged by the kidnapping shenanigans. Warden dragged over one of the intact corpses and started to examine it to determine if he could deduce anything with no avail, unfortunately. However, we have managed to get a lead on the matter from Terfel's friends. Daine - the one who was in a coma before we arrived due to an earlier attack - told of the kalashtar who assisted him. Lakashtai. The name is still meaningless but at least it brought us to Overlook. Daine also produced a green crystal that wasa left at his bedside table. Interestingly, only I could feel the emotion trapped inside. The fear. The sadness. I cannot understand why the others cannot feel it. It doesn't make sense. It is hardly hard to hear. I suppose it must be related to my psionics. Still strange.
Regardless, Daine also mentioned that he initially met Lakashtai in something called The King of Fire which is some sort of gambling establishment. I don't quite understand what would draw a kalashtar to such a place but I suppose if you grow up in Sharn, it would be less strange. It seems to be a place that grows over you, like moss over stones. Whatever differences the places, the people have - these all soften over time, blurring and blending together. There are still some very distinct places, do not misinterpret my understanding but the blurring is important. Life in Sharn is a gradient - still far too many enjoying a very blessed life whilst ignoring those starving below but still. It does worry me slightly that there is likely a Riedran outpost somewhere in Sharn. We have barely scratched the surface of all that Sharn has and they may be out there somewhere. It is a little unnerving but if Overlook can exist happily then perhaps my concerns are unfounded.
We were about to depart for Overlook when Warden told us about his 'friends'. Druids - by all accounts - can also speak to animals. I daresay whatever spell Warden cast that allowed the rat to speak in the common parlance is rather impressive. The rat was delivering a message on behalf of that academic who we saved, the one with the abherant mark. I am glad that she is safe. Strange way of delivering a message but I suppose if these marks can upset people so much then it makes sense to do this instead of hiring a messenger or writing a letter.
Eventually, we made our way up to Overlook, the brutalist buildings with shining windows. The buildings seemed to radiate something that I had not felt since landing in Khorvaire. A calmness. A serenity. A clarity. It is like when there is a constant noise you eventually get used to and you only remember what living is like without it after being immersed in it again. My bolstered mind soon found a sticking point in black herons. They were periodically over Overlook, like umbrellas towards a rain I could not sense. Warden and I looked at each other, obviously perturbed. Herons, these Black Herons seem to be an omen of the Daelkyr, of the people who took my friends and family for...whatever Dark purpose. Could they be here, in Sharn? I know Warden has advised his stones have got cold in High Walls but we are far above them and on the other side of the city. Warden cast his magic to speak to them but all I could hear was strange loud squawking. By all acounts, the herons were not moved to speak to him and a seagull helped himself to the rations Warden was trying to coax the herons to chat with him.
The commotion brought out the locals. A kalashatar smith came out and asked if we were alright. Terfel advised he was looking to see if he could get a halberd made from the crystal in K'zzal's maul. Serendipitously, Nevchaned was able to assist. Warden, Dax and myself decided to head to the community hall. They had started guided monastic training followed by a guided meditation. I was embarrassingly rusty at this - I used to carry out such steps and meditations frequently, daily sometimes. I suppose I have transferred much of my training into specifically mediation only, usually through the process of writing. This, in itself, is useful. To read back on the failures to learn from the mistakes and to read back on the triumphs with softness. To see how I change in relation to my friends and vice versa. The world is increasingly complicated and this provides some sembelance of thought. It has been so refreshing to walk the same steps again, to take familar breaths and movements. Dax and Warden did well from what I saw. Maybe not the most elegant of movements but for people trying this out for the first time, they did rather well. Warden certainly appreciated the guided meditation, almost feigning to breathe. Perhaps it is something we could do at camp to help everyone clear their mind of the noisy world and it's noisier problems.
We were about to start to eat when Terfel presented me with a crysteel mace. It is beautiful and will definitely come in use in the future. He advised that the maul was not salvegable but he managed to snag himself a new halberd regardless. I will need to make up this kindness.
The food was nostagalic. If I closed my eyes, I could be back in Adar again. Strange to think I would miss so much a place I was yearning to leave for years. I suppose that is how it works. You miss home and that is not a bad thing. At least I can go home. Terfel and Dax cannot and I am not sure whether Warden has a home at all. Unless he lived in the woods back in the Marches? It makes me determined to assist, to build somewhere that everyone can call home - beyond petty squabbles, beyond politics, beyond needless suffering. New Cyre could become this place.
Not Ideal
13th Eyre, 998YK
I will be brief as it is getting very late and we will likely have much to do in the morning and if I am truly honest, I would rather see this day end rather than have to stretch it out even further. My faith has not been shattered but my ego has certainly taken a bit of a brusing. As well as my body. I took on a couple of painful injuries whilst we captured K'zzal, much of which could have been avoided if I had acted like Warden, staying out of the way and causing damage from afar and only getting close when absolutely necessary. However, I did not do this and got quite injured for my hubris. I suppose it is less hubris and more...sensibilty. I have been trained how to fight and how to keep calm in such frantic situations and yet, in the midst of battle, I lose myself in its own logic. Determination to fell the enemy takes precedence over all other things, regardless of the cost to the self.
Still, it is damn well painful.
Dax did ask why I fought like that when we made the climb up with him, after the fight. I tried to explain this viewpoint but no one could really grasp why I was like that. Terfel and Warden, both who have been soldiers in their time, emphasise that using tactics in the heat of the battle is important but so is self-preservation. I am not of use dead. Indeed, given there are so few kalashtar in the world compared to Riedrans and Inspired, it was a childish attitude to take. It is something to work on and I can only thank my compatriots for their assistance in such matters.
I would think on this further but I am exhausted - it has been a long day and sleep is very appealing right now.
Pain
13th of Eyre, 998 YK
Ripped flesh and sinew, howling
like wolves to the full moon.
Searing pain flashes through
and will fester all too soon.
Dizzying, ears rushing
as the conscious dips between
the calculated logic of man
and the hunger of a beast.
Frayed edges of robes,
frayed edges of senses.
Unspooled thoughts flood
and instinct intenses.
To fight fire with fire
is all that can be done
and may Light have mercy
when all is said and done.
This Drink Tastes Weird
12th Eyre, 998YK
Quick update whilst I can. Dax and Terfel are trying to see if they can sniff out K'zzal within the back room. We met a gnoll who advised there was a large lozardfolk acting as a butcher in this tavern. Warden and I are still sat at the table, waiting. I am not sure what this drink is that Terfel ordered us, all I know is that it tastes what I would imagine being kicked in the throat would be like. Even Warden who doesn't reaally taste - I think? I mean, if his people do not eat or drink, would they be able to taste? - seemed to be physically knocked back at the drink. I wonder if it will affect him in the same manner as the other patrons. There is a Warforged tavern after all. And, perhaps it is frivolous of me to consider, the idea of a drunken Warforged is just amusing. Or a lizardfolk. I have seem plenty of humans and the like stagger out of the few places that sell alcohol in New Cyre. And the other non-humans of the camp seem to have a fairly similar reaction to the stuff, if requiring different quantities to get inebriated. Looking around now at the rather strange patrons of this particular tavern seem to definitely follow that all people can more or less get drunk, only the types of drunk and the amount of alcohol needed differntiates them. I do not really remember seeing my people drunk - it clouds the mind which is somewhat frowned upon. One of the things in the world that can distract you from doing good. Fine in moderation, like everything else, but hedonism is a limiting framework for doing good. Not that the concept has stopped me trying it when Terfel kindly bought the drink, of course. It would be impolite as it is a gift. Even if it tastes like a throat infection and is a rather unpretty colour.
Unfortunately, we were unable to communicate with the comatose changeling. It was quite the effort to get to the hospital in the first place. We had to make our way back down to High Walls - which incidentally, is becoming increasingly taxing on me. Runing from the positively lush realms of the higher city to the desolate undercity highlights the divisions here at the core and that these poor people are being left to their own devices. It is most uncharitable! These people had fled a horrific disaster and I would argue that those in New Cyre are better off. At least in New Cyre, food can be grown, game can be hunted, buildings are starting to be built and militias educated. There is no such provisions here - just tents and the stench of desperation. The people who run this city should be damn well ashamed!
Regardless, we met up with Terfel's friends who advised that in order to be allowed into the hospital, we would need to track down the one called Greykell. She has been spoken of before hy Terfel and the others from Cyre. A proud warrior type. She has managed to secure herself lodgings in an actual building so we had to track her down inside (well, everything is technically inside but the weather seems to disagree. Strange, strange place.) Her room was very spartan in nature, a table and a bed and little much else. It struck me about how much it reminded me of the rooms at the monastry - well, if they were individual rooms, of course. She seemed to be receptive at the idea of myself trying to communicate with this changeling to find out exactly went on and why the others attacked Terfel's friends. She secured passage into the hospital and in the name of il-Yannah, I tried.
I connected with his mind but there was...nothing. When I have connected to anyone, there is always noise. Minds are noisy things when not under strict control. The conscious mind - unless trained, of course - flit between thoughts and concepts like a bee pollinating flowers. Fluid, bouncing almost. A single concept brought to the mind brings around a dozen or so semi-connected concepts which itself branch out infinitely. But to hear absolute dead silence...it is rather unnerving. I tried my best to bring him around - I used the wand I received, I tried to wake him using other means including playing my flute and that the taste of soap may rouse him out of sheer disgust. I prayed that he would wake. Nothing. No change. I should not be disheartened - perhaps it is out of my skill range and that il-Yannah has a different plan to bring him awake...or another lead to chase in the meantime. Still, I cannot help but feel disappointed.
We spoke again to Greykell. She spoke again about the Mourning and the horrific things that she saw, that Terfel's people endured. I am not entirely sure what manner of spell or act would cause such a thing but I fear that this could be replicated. What if Riedra got a hold of such a weapon? Or the demon that Dax fights against? Or Warden's beastly shadows? Or anyone else for that matter? Greykell also advised that it was a kalashtar who woke up Daine although where she is now or why she did so is unknown. I suppose the obvious reason is that she's a kalashtar and she is obviously on the Path of Light and it is a noble act to do. Perhaps if we find her, we could try together to walk the changeling.
After this, we resolved to find the lizardfolk and so back in Kybher's Gate and into this tavern. Shamukaar. A sort of one stop shop for fresh meat, drinks and other food. We were well warned to not cause trouble as the patrons would not put up with it and kill us. And I believe that, given the rippling muscular frames of the inhabitants who are in to have a quiet drink. It's sort of nice to see such camaraderie, even in such a dark place.
It is -
Dax just left, I will finish this later.
Shamukaar
12th Eyre, 998YK
The tavern bristles in the quivering
candlelight. Strange people meeting here now,
large, burly, fearless in delivering
a silent promise, an unspoken vow.
The swiftest retribution, shivering
in anticipation, matter of how.
Tables mended, already slivering
to break, to bruise, to fracture in the row.
In Shamukaar, you do not start a fight
although the patrons will swiftly end it.
Troublemakers tremble at the sheer sight -
the quiet gladiators of the pit
who hold a vigil in the earnest plight
to get drunk in a place that they see fit.
candlelight. Strange people meeting here now,
large, burly, fearless in delivering
a silent promise, an unspoken vow.
The swiftest retribution, shivering
in anticipation, matter of how.
Tables mended, already slivering
to break, to bruise, to fracture in the row.
In Shamukaar, you do not start a fight
although the patrons will swiftly end it.
Troublemakers tremble at the sheer sight -
the quiet gladiators of the pit
who hold a vigil in the earnest plight
to get drunk in a place that they see fit.
Academic
11th Eyre, 998YK
Given that this is my second entry today, you can tell that a lot has happened since the last entry. Indeed, I was only writing during a rest before heading into Kyhber's Gate. I am now in the Guild Hall, in a fairly comfortable room. I think out of all the strange things that I have encountered in this continent, comfortable beds are my favourite. It isn't often I have the pleasure since I'm either in my tent at New Cyre or in the bedroll on the road. However, the beds are so much more comfortable than the ones at the monastry. That is not to say that I did not enjoy my life at the monastry or that I am taken in by the luxuries of the world outside of it. I do notice things and I enjoy them - that cannot be a bad thing. Unsure how well they work for my posture, however. I spend plenty of days sleeping on the floor which should balance things out as far as that is concerned.
I am sorry to say that our efforts to track down the highwayman in Khyber's Gate was a failure. It is definitely going to be significantly more tricky than I had originally thought. The area is a sprawling mass of dark tunnels, darker than Highgate or the Cogs. We saw a few other people down there but nothing that was specifically lizardfolk and we have nothing to use to track him. I am not sure how Dax would track him but she is an experienced hunter so I would imagine it would be a skill entwined with that. Even then, this pre-supposes he is still in Khyber's Gate. He could have moved anywhere in this city or even just left it entirely. The city is so busy and the guards seem to have a limited scope of the place. I know we will be trying again tomorrow to track him down so it could be a very familiar walk after a while, depending on how long we stay down there. Perhaps I would even get used to it, that darkness only ameliorated by my light spell. The thought of getting used to it down there is rather unpleasant. I do not wish to think about this further.
After looking through the tunnels, we headed back up to Clifftop. The city is still dizzying in its scope - so big and so easy to get lost within! Especially when less than scrupulous individuals wish to charge us to use lifts and the like. I do not believe that the individual who wanted money from us is employed by the city council however I may be mistaken. It must cost to keep things maintained given the structure of the towers and the bridges. Still, there are many forges and skilled workers that materials and labour are relatively easy to pick up and I wouldn't imagine that they would scrimp on such a thing...at least in the higher quarters. They don't seem to care as much for places down below which seems unfair. The people down there work just as hard as anyone up here - perhaps harder. Yet they still live in tents and in tunnels and dilapidated homes with no excuse of lack of funds or resources that New Cyre has. Sharn is a hive of activity and wealth that seems to be absorbed at the top with scraps falling below. It is a problem, certainly, but one I am unsure how to strictly fix. I am not sure who runs this place - is the King in Wroat responsible or are the people here responsible? Regardless, there is no excuse for it. Vathirond is poor. New Cyre is poor. That is what they are but the people are at least sharing what they have, working together to survive. Sharn does not have this excuse.
Speaking of which, we managed to unload that idol once we arrived back here at the guild hall. Provost Somethingorother is a nobleman who is studying the planes and apparently rthis idol is some way of studying the plane of Fernia which by all accounts is a plane of fire. It certainly explains those ghastly magmins. I am unsure why in the name of all that is Light and Bright why he wishes to study a plane of fire. It is disquieting, especially if broken, the idol could cause chaos to be unleashed which would not be the best move. I will have to trust that he knows what he is doing - he is some sort of academic, they have to know what they are doing. How else would he know what to order? It wouldn't make sense otherwise.
Lhara pays us 100 gold pieces for picking it up. It's a troubling amount of money that is increasing. I know I should be saving this to get back to New Cyre or perhaps to buy some items but it makes me uncomfortable with all this gold just lingering in my pockets. It doesn't seem like the right thing to have. Perhaps this whole venture is incorrect. The soft bed, the gold, the confrontations. Is this what I had imagined when I convinced my companions to travel all the way over here? Absolutely not. I know there are kalashtar in the city and I will need to seek them out when there are less pressing matters like investigating a murder or capturing a murderer to ask how they cope with it. I am...increasingly uncertain if this the right thing to do. Yes, doing this work for the Prince is a good thing as there are people depending on us in New Cyre. People I have helped get through bouts of pain and sickness. This is to help Terfel too - his friend was killed, should we not investigate why and what is going on? And since there are no activities to do for the Prince here, doing odd jobs for an upstanding guild for the benefit for the people of Sharn whilst raising funds to get home to New Cyre can only be good, yes?
Home. It is strange to think that New Cyre is my home, even if it is a small tent in a field. Will I ever go back to the monastry? I am not sure - there is much evil and darkness in the world I cannot turn my head from but being so far from others...I think it would have been easier if they were all here. We could have had services, spoke more of the stories, the memories in our heads. I have not forgotton them but I feel out of sync, some how...
Tomorrow we are heading back down to look for this lizardfolk but I am also going to try and communicate with the changeling in a coma. The hospital is on route and it seems to be our only lead at the moment. I should get some rest, it will be another long day.
Tunnels
11th Eyre, 998YK
Winding, ragged and long;
the tunnels bore down the the core.
Warm and cold, impossibly old.
Navigation impossible
to all but the natives
used to the shadows that
surround and suffocate.
Maps and signs are useless
as it moves with the planet.
Serpentine -
slithering shapes so undefined
skulking where the light
fades at the corner of
the eye.
Where are we going
and from where did
we arrive? Forward motion -
no return now.
Scrambling in the dark
for a glimmer of light -
emerging from
dusky dust covered darkness.
Lost souls still
entwined in warrens
covered up, hidden away
from the sight of the
higher stratas.
What strange beasts
may still lurk
in the dark
and what stranger beasts
still force them
to stay?
the tunnels bore down the the core.
Warm and cold, impossibly old.
Navigation impossible
to all but the natives
used to the shadows that
surround and suffocate.
Maps and signs are useless
as it moves with the planet.
Serpentine -
slithering shapes so undefined
skulking where the light
fades at the corner of
the eye.
Where are we going
and from where did
we arrive? Forward motion -
no return now.
Scrambling in the dark
for a glimmer of light -
emerging from
dusky dust covered darkness.
Lost souls still
entwined in warrens
covered up, hidden away
from the sight of the
higher stratas.
What strange beasts
may still lurk
in the dark
and what stranger beasts
still force them
to stay?
Labour and Freedom
11th Eyre, 998YK
A lot has happened in a short time so please excuse if the artifice is lost within the translation from reality to the written word.
We managed to successfully join the Cliftop Adventurer's Guild however they have a strange rivalry with the other one, the one at Deathsgate. I suppose such a thing is natural when there are two similar groups with a large crossover of potential recuits and jobs, even if one group is a bit more picky than the other. Still, I wasn't quite expecting to have such an 'initiation ceremony'. I confess I was half expecting for a friendly sparring against the rival group, not quite jumping off the tower to see who would use their feather fall token last. I suppose it is a test of bravery. Or stupidity. Possibly both. I think I did well enough - I wasn't one of the last to use the token, Warden and Terfel managed this whereas myself and Dax did not. I wasn't doing too bad until I fell through a window. I don't think anyone would exactly blame me for using it after falling through glass and being cut by the shards. Dax did call out for me to avoid it but I unfortunately realised too late. The wounds are superficial enough but the others I have taken today are less so but I will discuss that when we get to it.
Regardless, our guild was triumphant in the little game so our 'handler' - bizarre term, it makes us sound like animals and Warden was still in his Warden shape and not in an animal form - was pleased at our performance. She passed us over two jobs for the guild since they were both on somewhat the same route. One to collect an idol of fire, I forget the full name of the trinket, and the other to track down a highwayman and murderer known as...what was it? Krzzal? Kzazz? Karl? The highwayman is a lizardfolk like Dax so it seems a sensible approach to allow Dax to lead us when down in Kybher's Gate. She may not know this particular lizardfolk but she might be able to bring him to his senses or something of that kind. I am not sure what language lizardfolk speak exactly but I daresay she would likely have a bit more luck in convincing him to come with us than the rest of us. And we are s atrong group so we should be able to wrangle him if not. We outnumber him - how hard could it be? We have dealt with lots of those Blue Hoods so it cannot be too difficult.
Before getting our assignments, we found this woman who was being attacked by the City Watch. She has something called an aberrant dragonmark which other people are scared of. It had caused a bright light but ntohing else. I do not really understand what a dragonmark is or how people get them. I know Jorasco is a dragon house and Thara does seem to initiate healing spells by touching a bruise. We managed to get her to safety before she was fleeing - I am not sure why but this mark is not understood and she is in danger. It is a shame. She did however mention she was a bird expert and had been studying the herons which...I am still rather uneasy about.
We decided to pick up the idol first so we went underneath into the Cogs which is deeper than we have been thus far. The place is dark, brooding almost like a monster underneath the bed of the city above. Even so, I know that this is hardly the deepest layer. Khyber's Gate - our next destination - is deeper still. The Cogs is very warm, almost acrid with the stenches of industry and lava catching at the back of your throat. Foundaries and smithies litter the roughhewn place. It is no less busy than the upper floors - workers, mostly Warforged like Warden - seem to be the majority of the inhabitants, working tirelessly for these dark, infernal mills.
We pick up directions from a Warforged for the place we are to pick up the idol to find the Warforged workers striking outside as their boss, some slimy human named Drummond. He refuses to pay a fair wage for the Warfroged since he sees them less as people and more like tools. It is a puzzling outlook as Warden is clearly a person. He has goals and a mind of his own. Simply because the circumstances of his existance is different to others does not mean he is not entitled to fair payment for his work. The idea is just very strange. Warden has mentioned that he's never had a wage before and truth be told, it is a strange one for me since I have never been really paid for anything until I became a 'Mist Walker' as the Prince called us. However, given what I have seen of this world and from what I remember of the non-kalashtar inhabitants of Adar, payment for work is normal. It goes to follow that if you do work that is not voluntary in nature - like my work at the clinic - that you should be paid for it, either through wages or through selling items or labour. The concept that not paying people fairly based on something as silly as their race is absolutely unacceptable. Dax, Warden and Terfel agreed as well before I said anything much to my satisfaction. Sometimes we disagree on small things but we seem to have a common goal and to not allow the people suffer seems to be something that resonates with us all.
Warden and Dax ran off to a Warforged tavern to collect more people for the protest whilst myself and Terfel said back and spoke to Stoke and the others. There seems to be all sorts of rumours about who runs things. One in particular however was shot down as being nonsense but perhaps it is the strangeness of the claim that makes me remember it. The warforged thinks the tavern is secretly run by House Cannith, the people who make many things including the Warforged. Unsure why he thinks that unless it is a way to undermine any civil rights movements that the Warforged have. Again, unsure why House Kannith would be interested in keeping the Warforged as an underclass but I suppose that is why the others called it out as nonsense. We did not wait long for Dax and Warden to return with a whole group of Warforged which joined the calls for fair wages for their kin. Dax in particular gave a stirring, impassioned speech to the crowd. Simple to understand, strongly worded and proud as she stood on the box, some of the Warforged still towering over her. It drew attention from others, even non-Warforged inhabitants to join the calls for justice. Drummond could no longer turn a blind eye to it and agreed a deal with Stoke. It is very gratifing to know we helped people in a way that is I suppose unusual thus far. True, we had to pick up the idol which was incomplete but we didn't need to help. If we were being purely in pursuit of the idol itself, we could have joined up with Drummond or something.
After this, well, they had to make the artefact. And this place is intersected with another plane, one of fire. I am not sure how literal a definition that is since the only intersection I know of was the old one with Dal Quor and that went terribly for all involved. However, given the beasts made of flame that nearly killed me (and have definitely singed my robes) I can believe it. Apparently, the forges are infested with these strange flame creatures which attack when let loose. My usual spells were somewhat ineffective given that by their nature, radiant fire is just fire. It still burns. Although given the marks I now have on my ankles, the consideration that I have for my own spells is...disconcerting.
The idol has barely finished when we stepped outside and a giant two-headed woman threatened Drummond. I have never seen such a womann before. I wonder how independent the heads are - are they two people who happen to share a body or are in tandem, the brains being more akin to having two kidneys or lungs? It seemed an inappropriate time to ask questions. Terfel defended Drummond - much to my surprise - and we naturally backed him up. Terfel's sense of justice seems to be very understanding, not confined to being either good or bad but on prevention of any form of injustice, regardless of the moral character of the person he defends. It is...something to think further on.
However, we are about to embark even further underground to track this highwayman. Let's hope that is a little easier than picking up this...expensive ornament.
Magmin
11th of Eyre, 998 YK
Twisted creatures made of sulphur and fire
erupt from the forge, blinding and anew,
clutching at the rags of flesh and attire.
Flames and molten metal their gnarled maws spew
grasping, frantic like escaping a mire.
From which strange realm did these wild beasts break through
to forges to create, to inspire
as soot from their breath begins to accrue.
Dangerous to counter, bold and daring
wild explosions when killed, their final curse.
Holding together, true force uncaring
and flames their mighty cudgel to coerce
a tyranny from ashes unerring -
brings pain that cannot be put into verse.
erupt from the forge, blinding and anew,
clutching at the rags of flesh and attire.
Flames and molten metal their gnarled maws spew
grasping, frantic like escaping a mire.
From which strange realm did these wild beasts break through
to forges to create, to inspire
as soot from their breath begins to accrue.
Dangerous to counter, bold and daring
wild explosions when killed, their final curse.
Holding together, true force uncaring
and flames their mighty cudgel to coerce
a tyranny from ashes unerring -
brings pain that cannot be put into verse.
Something Is Rotten in Sharn
10th Eyre, 998 YK
Sharn is so much bigger than I remember. The spires seem to stretch up so ridiculously high into the sky and seem to go down deep. I forgot how dark it was inside, away from the skies. And so busy! So much more busy than Wroat and wildly more so than New Cyre. To think my monastery with a couple of human farmers and the like had around 50 people in all...it encloses on you a little bit I think that some of the others might feel the same. Possibly. It may just me projecting onto them. Tomorrow we going to try and join a guild as suggested by Terfel's old companions in order to raise funds for New Cyre and to spread good and noble deeds which will be good. But my mind is...racing. Warden has these stones related to his druidic practices which alert him to the likes of Dolgrims and Dolgaunts and all their ilk and...it is alerting him. They are here, most strongly in the tent with the Terel. It is...unpleasant to think about. I do not see any but to know that they are somewhat near and within the city walls is not a comforting thought in the slightest. To the contrary, it is most disturbing. Warden advised that since he doesn't really sleep that he would keep watch which I am very grateful for but I do not think I will be resting easily tonight.
Terfel's other companions are close by and I am sure they would jump to our aid. The Warforged the called Pierce was very unlike Warden and even Three. Very literal in nature but had this undercurrent and (intentional?) humour to him? it is uncertain but I suppose it is to be expected. Warden did mention that many of his kind came out of the Forge like that so I suppose it must be a natural state. Kind of like when someone has a baby and it doesn't much of a personality until it's grown up a bit and started learning. Although most kalashtar babies aren't quite as literal from experience. Although asking Dax if she could take off her scales did make me smile just a little but I imagine that he simply didn't know.
The others spoke darkly of their time in Sharn. Lei and Daine spoke of their companions who had been attacked and killed by mutated refugees. One of them - a changeling known as Monan - has psionic abilities and put both himself and Daine into a coma. If it wasn't for another Kalashtar, he would still likely be in that coma. Terfel took me aside to ask what can be done about them and it is a little out of my knowledge. I am not overly skilled in the more...esoteric conditions but I suppose if I take enough notes and with my new wand, it should help. I feel like I would be able to get a clue by visiting the comatose shifter in the hospital. Psionics I am far more familiar with so perhaps I can get through this coma to find answers. I owe that at least to Terfel. He has acted like a fair leader throughout this and I can see that the others look to him for guidance as well. He gave me money to purchase the Wand. If there is anything I can do then it ought to be done.
There are other kalashtar here! Up in the higher towers, a whole community of them. I never knew that many of us existed outside of Adar. If I have some spare time during this visit here, I must speak with them. I must admit I do miss the services we used to have. Serenely silent for observers but if you can hear our singing...it was beautiful. Hymns on goodness, hope and defeating darkness through righteousness, the early morning light seeping through the stained glass, casting people in soft light. Even the funeral rites were beautiful and solemn. Singing by yourself is no real comparison. Even better, I could persuade them to do something about the Riedran lies that seem to seep into the land, like ink spilled on the map. Although, admittedly, if such lies can spread despite this neighbourhood being here...no. I shouldn't think unkindly. They helped Terfel's friend, why wouldn't they assist?
The other two on the other hand...somewhat unnerving. An advisor to the old Queen of Cyre, Terel offered for us to join him for dinner. We obliged but the atmosphere was far more strained than with the King...if that were at all possible. Perhaps I shouldn't go to these invited dinners. Things tend to get...tetchy. Like when Terel and Terfel started talking in depth about the Mourning...it was unpleasant. I know war is unpleasant and I know that whatever magic or activity caused the country to burn and fog was more so. It's not something you tend to bring up, especially when it is affecting someone else so badly. Others noticed that Terel's assistant, Olalia , was finding the situation increasingly upsetting. Warden tried to stop the conversation when he noticed this but Terel refused. He then instructed the poor thing to open her mouth. Black marble, petrified mouth. Can't talk or eat. I know no idea what could have caused that but I suppose that no one knows what the Mourning was. Olalia seems to have been heavily affected by the Mournland but we only have Terel's word for that and given the signals given to Warden and just the general...affect he gave off, I am not entirely sure I should believe him. Perhaps that is not a good thing to do, to mistrust someone who offered such generous hospitality and who rescued so many innocents but at best, if my suspicions are wrong and he is simply a good person then that is something I can deal with. If I am right then I can take action and be wary. I suppose even if I did trust him and he turned out to be a bad person, I am unsure what difference it would make. No, I think it is time for a little caution until we find the source of these aberrant signals.
Dax offered me her old bedroll which I am thankful for. The ground is a lot more comfortable with a bedroll than the blanket. I should have bought one before but it slipped my mind. It is something to bear in mind, something I should repay in kind. I am not sure what but it is still something to consider. I can hear Warden going around the camp, advising Terfel and Dax of his findings. I am not sure how they will take this information but I cannot change that. As long as they are aware that it is bad, that will need to be good enough for now. I should try and get some rest as I do not believe my sleep will be unbroken.
Towers
10th Eyre, 998YK
Here in the dark, huddled around
fires, clinging to scraps of light -
like old men holding to
memories. Stench curls
up, tendrils of smoke that
clog the air. Dirty rain
pours over flimsy canvas.
Shivers echo through the camp.
Hidden in the shadows,
darker deeper than the dark
spreads like a fever, tricky
to detect but not
impossible. Fearless people
crowded for the relief
of the warmth unknowing
of the danger.
No one knows how
deep it goes
or how dark their
hearts can be.
Emotions
9th Eyre, 998 YK
This room is the most comfortable place I have ever been to the point it feels too decadent, too much to really take on without it somehow being wrong. The simple lodgings I have had up until this point - either at the monastery or at New Cyre - seem to pale in comparison. It did give me a good time to attune to the Wand of Great Mercies which is good. It will be of great use on the road and at the clinic. I am not sure when I will return to the clinic, if I am honest as I am loathe to leave the group I have. I am sure they would be fine without me. Warden can heal and they can all fight brilliantly. Still, I like being around them. Sometimes - as ridiculous as it is - I feel alone at New Cyre. I would feel very differently if we all managed to make it to New Cyre. But...dwelling on things I cannot change helps no one. I didn't come all this way to feel sorry for myself. I am here to help and I need to keep focus on that. We were invited to dine with the King (I had some seared spider, quite nice) which I would guess is a big deal since not a lot of people were there. The closest thing we had to a king was the Abbot and well...everyone ate with the Abbot. There was one room to eat in.
The King is a difficult person. He is affable, pleasant and is likely a good ruler but seems to be rather ignorant - as many people are - of the threat of Riedrans and the Dreaming Dark. It is one thing to apply the metaphysical nature of good and evil to people who can change but to apply this to Quori? To Dal Quor? I know the stories of my ancestors, of Taratai and the sixty six who left Dal Quor to escape persecution and forged with the humans to become kalashtar. In my dreams, I see my ancestor's Shana's memories. I see Dal Quor, I see il-Lashtavar and their follows do terrible things, I see a place I know well but have never stepped foot in; longing to return to a place I have never been to. Perhaps I shouldn't judge them too harshly in their ignorance as Riedra seems to be regarded with a bland pleasantness. They apparently carry out charitable goods here which must to be to particularly unpleasant ends - likely to make them think they are good when they are not. Using charity and kindness as a cloak for darkness is the most appalling lie I can conceive of. When I trained, I thought it would be attacks on the monastery, an invasion. But this, making us seem either absent entirely or useless, to make us seem like the liars from straight out the gate against the so-called noble acts. It pains me and in turn, proves to perhaps be the point. Is that what they want? A response? What sort of response will change minds? Anger makes us look too emotional. Being calm would likely make us look like liars. It's a trap. Perhaps the best thing would be to ignore it and show exactly the true goodness that can arise from Adar; from the kalashtar.
Dax was surprisingly very much on my side. I hadn't known much about Dax up until this point but it seems her people are dealing with something rather similar, if a different type of threat. I am not sure what Masvirik is exactly but if it is evil then it makes absolute sense that her people would be fighting it, to stop it from emerging. She mentioned she had been exiled because her people think she is evil which is rather bizarre. She doesn't come across as evil and is ardently attempting to do as much good as she can. If she needs assistance in this, I think I will lend a hand. I might not be a lizardfolk but evil is evil. It needs vanquished, regardless of the source.
Warden spoke more of the Daelkyr and the other Gatekeepers of seals. He also relates deeply to the story Dax advised and believes that this may be related or similar in a way. The number of sources of evil in this place astound me and concerns me if even one start to raise its head. The fact that the birds are being seen again is disquieting. I am sure its not their fault - poor things - but they are certainly tied together...somehow. If these aberrations mean that these seals are becoming undone. Uncomfortable indeed. Perhaps if the people of this world stop fighting over crowns and other such daft things, it would get on better.
Terfel kept quiet about his war stories, perhaps in part to the fact that he was fighting directly against the King. I know that it must be difficult, especially since later discussions with the Prince hinted at a level of...blame for the other royals who perished. It struck me that I had never really seen the Prince as a tragic figure before. A bit too talky but otherwise fairly nice but never tragic. I had never really thought that his family must have died in this war, perhaps in the Mourning itself. I am not sure what the people here believe in terms of the afterlife but I sincerely hope that it goes well for them.
Terfel also surprised us by summoning some sort of ghostly puppet of himself at breakfast. That was...very unexpected but I assume since it can swing about its weapons that it can fight as well. He also seems to be able to switch places with it which is hard to get my head around, if I am honest but if he uses this ability more, I will get used to it.
We once again are headed for the lightning rail but are headed to Sharn. I remember myself and Warden briefly passed through on route to New Cyre and its artificial brightness and abundance of people and lack of the ability to see the sky is...I am ambivalent on the matter. It is important to attend, of course, but huge chunks of places that are outdoors but you cannot see the sky is unpleasant. The sky is always there. Bright or dark, ribboned with colours in the dawn to murky rain clouds. To not see it when outdoors is...strange and I am glad that I do not need to get used to that as a concept.
I think I will need to spend more time in meditation when I have the chance. Being on the road ill affords time to do so and I am getting too...easily pulled into emotions. I know it is part of my human heritage but when you spend your life surrounded by people who are mostly calm to be thrown into somewhere where people can be calm...or joyous or miserable or whatever and it is seen as normal instead of something to be challenged as it clouds the judgement...I would suppose it leads to that. Some meditation is required, I think.
King's Table
9th Eyre, 998 YK
Cornucopias fill out on tables,
strangers feasting as if long known friends -
regaling histories now mere fables.
Their charm and wit compete to enable
polite conversation as night lends.
Cornucopias fill out on tables -
Food rich and people in silk and sable
unknowing of the bonds that they transcend -
regaling histories now mere fables.
Knowledge wise; thought to be purely stabile
withered the olive branch extends
Cornucopias fill out on tables,
being eaten as soon as they're able.
Speaking brightly in a way to defend
regaling histories now mere fables.
The world unveiled is clearly unstable
but through unity do the gathered tend.
Cornucopias fill out on tables,
regaling histories now mere fables.
They're A Menace, Frankly
8th Eyre, 998YK
Politics is not something I thought I would ever get involved in. It seemed to be some clandestine game of dragonchess that only a few people really knew the rules to but most people pretended to know the rules and it somehow affects people's lives. We are taught briefly on the old politics of Dal Quor but these are...like a child's game compared to the complicated nonsense of politics on this continent. I do not fully understand why, even after many months of living on this continent and dealing with their refugees, they went to war. The more I hear about it, involving countries that I do not know where they are on a map and for...what? I had foolishly thought once that it was a simple good versus evil battle, like Dal Quor, like the Dreaming Dark, like Riedra. This is certainly became clear to not be the case.
Trains are nice though. I like those. Well, I liked the part were I wasn't getting attacked by those annoying Blue Hoods. they seem to keep returning, like a fungal infection without proper care and attention. I know I shouldn't let it get to me, that getting too pulled into emotions is an action beneath me but they are seriously causing me to feel...angry. Upset even. Especially after Dax got injured despite my best efforts. More so after learning more about their reasoning, their causes, the possible reason behind all this to be nobles trying to gain some power from their king but being too cowardly to settle this in a dignified fashion. There seems to be nothing noble about these nobles - pushing the poor to fight their battles from the shadows. And now we are involved in this game of theirs whether we like it or not.
Wroat is...beautiful. Less like a wild forest but a community garden, pruned and carved into sections unique to them but all still making the garden beautiful, full of life and sustenance. It is strange to think of Vathirond being so empty except for wretched monsters and the poor compared to Wroat who has monsters but of the purposeful kind, the devious kind. It's all very underhanded. At least with an owlbear - however distressing they may be - you know where you stand. It wants to kill you to eat you. Simple. Easy problem. Easy solution. A noble who instead chucks out minions and words with multiple meanings (and not in the poetic kind but in the "we are totally loyal to your face but will absolutely betray you" sort of way. It gives me a headache and it seems that only Terfel from our group has any level of...understanding over this nonsense. It is somewhat comforting to know that at least my bewilderment to the whole proceedings is not unique. Warden seems to be interested but just as confused - I do keep meaning to ask him or Terfel about why in the name of the Light this whole war started in the first place but things pop up. Usually Blue Hoods who seem determined not to get the message but I digress. He seemed interested in a very...Warden way. He is interested in everything, enthusiastic about this regardless of the subject. He's very full of life. Although I think he still thinks it's rubbish. Probably, he hasn't said anything but it would be in line with what I know about him. I could very well be wrong and he finds it all very fascinating. I doubt it but he may surprise me. Perhaps all Warforged find politics to be the peak of worldly endeavour.
We met another Warforged and he was really BIG. Like very big but softly spoken, friendly enough and likely older than our dear Warden. I confess I never thought about size differentials. I had erroneously assumed Warforged would be similar to humanoids, some variation but the average makes sense. Are there giant Warforged? Very small ones? How big or small can they get? Is Warden in comparison to Three normal. It feels improper to ask but the curious nature of them is...significant, especially when Cyre or the Mournland is meant to still house so many of them. It is something to keep in mind but the Warforged I have met do seem to be very nice. Very unwarlike. Strange. I wonder what it is like to be on the other side, to be the one attacked.
Dax seems to be healing up a little after the attack. Still being affected, that's not under any doubt, but she pushes though, never letting it grace a mention on her face. It is kind of inspiring to watch her push through, regardless of anything else and still hit out with every shred of strength and determination in her body to keep moving forward, to protect, to hunt, to do what is needed of her. I don't believe I remember hearing her complain about her health or anything really in the time I've known her. She pushes through and gets on with it. Dax doesn't especially reveal much about herself (not that I really do either...) so I am not sure if this is how lizardfolk are or if Dax is uniquely stoic in the face of things going sideways.
Terfel seems to be much more...useful, if that is the correct term, in this context. Not that his skills and abilities were not useful before but he carries a certain gravitas to him that seems to work well with the Prince and this King and whatever royal folk we met today. It is ineffable. Perhaps it has been his closeness to the Prince that imbues him with this innate sense of belonging or maybe it is simply him being from Cyre and having real stakes in each movement we make that lends its self to be...important. After all, he isn't as clueless as the rest of us in these matters and he seems to know how to speak in their language or dance their dance. Llyr seems to be following in his footsteps well.
In the market, I managed (with Terfel's assistance, naturally) I managed to purchase a Wand of Great Mercies which can only come in useful in my work at the clinic but should come in useful if this Blue Hood situation (more on this soon) continues to be a stone in the stew. It requires attunement so I will need to meditate with it soon. il-Yanneh will help be help even more people. In the market, we were shown around by Haydith who seems to know what to do and say at every shopkeeper, at every passerby. Well known and she is very pretty, she seems to command her way through as easily as any Prince could. Which turned out to somewhat true given she is somewhat of a prisoner. The Treaty which stopped all this war nonsense decided to exchange family members as insurance. It is...rather disturbing to know that war could start again by a forged letter professing ill treatment or an assassination. Which nearly happened with the Blue Hoods. Nyrielle stepped out of the shadows and fought but Haydith fought admirably, vanishing and reappearing. I think I did well, the strength in my spells increasing and being able to Channel Divinity certainly helped matters. Perhaps I shouldn't use that ability on these Blue Hoods. Is this really a good way to use my abilities? To burn people duped into playing a game in such an...efficient way? It is...discomforting. I will need to meditate on this one and if I need to carry out any penitence then it will be necessary. I cannot allow myself to become the very thing I am fighting.
Wroat
8th Eyre, 998YK
Elemental trains lug primordial
thoughts across country, scoring the land bright.
And slowing of huddled passengers in
plush chairs, to see the most marvelous sight.
Piled high slate roofs, peaking up to see
the busy people pouring past in daze.
Markets with goods stacked like rubble in ruins,
sellers chirping in different tongues,
singing of sales, singing of bargains, clash!
A cacophony of sound, crashing coins
corrosive and healing, true, false.
Culture patchwork stitched together, shining
in difference, in fusion, in bright
fluid movements through stone, through air, through all.
Fragments of architectural changes,
fingerprints of the people passing through.
Addition improves, changes, clarifies
each step builds a new city that does not
change. Wroat greets you like a friend you know not.
Warm embrace like family, a comfort.
thoughts across country, scoring the land bright.
And slowing of huddled passengers in
plush chairs, to see the most marvelous sight.
Piled high slate roofs, peaking up to see
the busy people pouring past in daze.
Markets with goods stacked like rubble in ruins,
sellers chirping in different tongues,
singing of sales, singing of bargains, clash!
A cacophony of sound, crashing coins
corrosive and healing, true, false.
Culture patchwork stitched together, shining
in difference, in fusion, in bright
fluid movements through stone, through air, through all.
Fragments of architectural changes,
fingerprints of the people passing through.
Addition improves, changes, clarifies
each step builds a new city that does not
change. Wroat greets you like a friend you know not.
Warm embrace like family, a comfort.
Klemens and Gold
24th of Therendor, 998 YK.
Terfel explained he does not know what the Siren creature is. His people made a warning system but it wasn't alive like that is. Still very strange. It must be frightening to suddenly be alive and alone and not understand what you are for or why you are there. I am...not as scared of it. I am still...but not as much. Terfel (or anyone else) didn't seem to see it that way. Unsure why not but that's just one of the strange aspects of the people around me. I shouldn't be judgmental.
Still, we successfully got the supplies. Terfel also told Warden's friend about the rest and gave them the key which is only a good thing. The people of Vathirond are so needy and so many more than the New Cyreans. They have creatures from the mists and the sickness but hopefully the supplies can build their resolve and if we now have an ally in this city, we can help each other. Breland seems to have abandoned them as they have victimised New Cyre, why not join forces for the Greater Good?
Terfel is pretty strong. Dax seems to watch him for commands and Warden seems to as well. I do too, to an extent. After all, he seems to have the most experience in this place aside from Warden. Dax and I don't seem to be especially knowledgeable about this place or the War. i have heard snippets - mostly from Warden but pieces from some of the people we have treated in the clinic. I am unsure of the reasons, they seem to change and I am unsure if there is a Righteous side in all this. Still, I am not sure how many of the people in New Cyre were soldiers. You can tell sometimes, the gait, the look in their eyes, little bits and pieces that are tell tale signs but it's not always accurate. I've treated people who were soldiers but I only found out after treating them and finding military tattoos or wounds that were likely from old combat but improperly healed.
Warden became a horse again before we managed to get to the inn. It seems to be getting easier for him to do but unsure if it changes perspective for him. I understand it is very...strange for him but does he prefer not having the feeling and blood and heart stuff or is he okay with small, infrequent feelings? I know that in the memories Shana shares when I sleep, I "remember" being quori, of not having the humanish frame. I am unsure if it is any way the same. Still, his new skills are being useful and he can summon a dog made of earth, grass, and bark as well. Druids are fascinating. I wonder if they can all do these skills or whether these are unique?
Dax has a certain fearlessness to her, very straight forward. It is becoming increasingly refreshing in a place that is not straight forward. She watched the Siren creature from the roof, no seconds thought, climbing as if it was second nature. She has a certain charm to the way that she cuts through conversations to get to the proper details before agreeing. Her bravery is measured and not fool-hardy. It almost seems like a contradiction but her survival skills, her will to keep going and to take only risks that are worth taking is admirable. She is as tactical as Terfel, almost like a second in command.
On the way back, we met the strangest dwarf called Klemens Fuchs. He was wearing pyjamas and was seemingly doing very much the same as us - scavenging lost items from places now since abandoned. I am unsure if he is...entirely himself but it appears that him, Terfel and Warden were on opposing sides for that war. It added a certain tension to our camps but his large crossbow implies that if he was going to attack us, we would have been hit by the crossbow by now. This war is...far more confusing than I originally thought. Perhaps it is something I need to learn up on. We will certainly have time to learn more.
I also have an unreasonable amount of money. It feels...uncomfortable. I know of the terrible things that people do to get these things so I will need to be rid of them. There are some useful items that I can get but the rest...I think I will give to the clinic. Thara can buy more medical and cleaning supplies or she can put that onto the Prince's bill. It is better put to use in there than in my pockets.
The Road
17th of Therendor, 998 YK.
Along the dusty roads, we make our trail -
ships cutting through water, wind cut by sail.
Trees rise like masts as we tread earthy sea
and misty cities and creatures we flee.
Though now in memory's rose-colour tale,
the fears that through the dead war still prevail.
People still moving, continuing, free -
regardless of where turmoil used to be.
We walk through like the Light in the Dread Dark,
dappled by the leaves like stars overhead.
We gladly walk where evil leaves its mark
and where other saints sadly fear to tread.
Good only spreads so that people can hark
and allow Light to cover them instead.
ships cutting through water, wind cut by sail.
Trees rise like masts as we tread earthy sea
and misty cities and creatures we flee.
Though now in memory's rose-colour tale,
the fears that through the dead war still prevail.
People still moving, continuing, free -
regardless of where turmoil used to be.
We walk through like the Light in the Dread Dark,
dappled by the leaves like stars overhead.
We gladly walk where evil leaves its mark
and where other saints sadly fear to tread.
Good only spreads so that people can hark
and allow Light to cover them instead.
Is Cyre Good?
10th of Therendor, 998 YK.
It was a creature. Incredibly tall, gaunt, spindly lanky limbs but it had no head but two...cones. The cones had teeth. Humanish looking teeth. It made a sound that is still ringing in my ears. It scared an owlbear and those are certainly fearsome creatures - that wasn't even scared by Dax getting...Daxier. It looks...I don't recall ever being taught about that sort of darkness. It repeated something about being a warning system for Cyre before chasing the existing owlbear.
I have not doubted my actions until this point. I still do not believe that the work I did in the refugee camp was bad but...did the people of Cyre, this Prince, did they create such wretched creatures? Can it think? Is it sentient? Is it demonic or...I don't know! This creature terrified me in a way that I cannot really place into words. The Dolgaunts and Dolgrim that held us, they were scary too but they were not repeating the name of the people I have been championing, recognising their plight as similar to my quori ancestors, understanding their desire to go home despite that not being a place anymore, trying to rebuild a new one.
What if I have been helping bad people? I don't think my healing is necessarily bad - mending broken bones, closing wounds, treating fevers and shakes and comforting those in pain, that wasn't bad. Most of the people here do not come across as bad people and most of them are not powerful and it is hard to tell if they ever were. It would not be a logical thing to blame a farmer or merchant or anything like that for the actions of those who rule over them. They have little control over that. But can I honestly believe that anyone who created that...thing is good? I am - however - assuming that it is as straight forward as that. Doing something and pretending your enemy did it is a very...Riedran thing to do and I would be foolish to believe that the people here wouldn't use such tactics. Even so...
Can it feel? Can it think? Am I so out of touch that this is something that is "normal" in this place, a place that creates people for the sole purpose to fight wars? Should I empathise with it? It didn't choose to be created.
...Could I link minds with it? Is that possible?
I think the group might now that I can do that after Warden turned into a horse. Which is something he can do now. He was very surprised to have a heart beat and feel things. It must be a very strange way to live without that. I wonder if that makes things better or worse in terms of meditation and training. Hmm.
Dax is a very good butcher. Skillful. But also creative! I would have never have thought about making arrows from griffon bones and feathers. Also likes climbing trees. It makes sense in a combat situation to have the height. She can also get frilly when she's trying to intimidate things! It looks...bold, like if fire was painted in scales.
And Terfel is certainly treating his son well. It is strange to think that his son wasn't in training before but he will be taught how to fight and how to mend. It's poetic in a way. I suppose there is less...emphasis on a strong righteous education here so I can understand why things are different. Still, he received a little flak for putting too much onto his son. Still, our small group can teach him how to fight. Warden and Dax are certainly skilled, if they take different approaches. I am not sure if Terfel would be open to his son learning magic given the answer he gave regarding Siebold teaching him but I can certainly share some of the training I received. Supposing I am allowed.
OH and I have a pocket watch! It's a very practical device used to keep time. It did use up some gold, gold that would have likely been better spent on bandages or soap for the hospital but this will surely assist me in time. Besides, how could I not buy something from Beezlebop after saying how poorly his business was doing? He feels as if he is failing his family so buying this very useful device must be good. Hope is good, ensuring a merchant can feed himself is good. It will help me be precise when writing things like...paperwork proclaiming when someone was born or when they died. And I can guarantee myself to be on time for my work at the hospital.
Beasts
10th of Therendor, 998 YK.
Creatures unseen and unbound in the wood;
in cities covered in mists and in sky.
Screeching, swooping - are they misunderstood?
What is good and not fades in their sigh.
Is nature neutral now in their dark wood?
Can evil infect or can good defy
the limits of uncomplicated minds?
Does an attack constitute poor morals
or does a sweet song mark them kind?
It brings the heart and head to quarrel!
The monsters that may lurk behind the mist
may not be at fault for their creation
but bitterness grows and evil twists
and evil must be brought to cessation.
in cities covered in mists and in sky.
Screeching, swooping - are they misunderstood?
What is good and not fades in their sigh.
Is nature neutral now in their dark wood?
Can evil infect or can good defy
the limits of uncomplicated minds?
Does an attack constitute poor morals
or does a sweet song mark them kind?
It brings the heart and head to quarrel!
The monsters that may lurk behind the mist
may not be at fault for their creation
but bitterness grows and evil twists
and evil must be brought to cessation.
Supplies
25th Olarune, 998 YK,
This place is stranger than I thought but I am happy to learn what I can.
There is this group called Swords of Liberty who are dead set on "freeing people from the monarchy". I suppose I can understanding that but they are harming the very lives they proposed they want to save, either withholding supplies to the people or killing them. They pretend to be mere thieves but when they talk, it is a rather different story. They are caught between being bandits and revolutionaries. My people are oppressed by The Inspired and other Quori. We would love to overthrow them both in Eberron and in Dal Quor but actions have consequences for the physical self, the spiritual self and the social. There is no nobility in underhanded deeds or trickery, no goodness to be found in withholding supplies or killing caravans on the mere belief that they are not of your own. Through training, you fight - through meditation, you strengthen - through charity, you improve. The Light, just as the Dark, is as infectious as any other good deed. Perhaps if we show them kindness that cannot be doubted, that cannot be dissipated with bad thoughts, this will improve them. These bandits, these Swords of Liberty, they are not evil. Perhaps when we get back to New Cyre, I will advise them of their ways and try to get through to them, give them some herbal tea and maybe tell them some poems? Although, I must confess I am unsure how they would take that compared to how poorly they took Warden's stories.
I must admit Dax using the Warden's tales as a point of "torture" intrigues me. It's a little rude given that Warden is very nice but it's less...drastic than threatening to eat legs. Even if one of them did have to bring up the toes thing. Still, she is highly skilled and I cannot deny that. She can blend into the wild like nothing I've ever seen, almost like magic. Eager to get the task completed. Strong. I may not always fully see eye to eye (or understand her methods) but I cannot deny she is a boon to us and our cause. I have never really met a lizard person before but I am unsure how to broach the subject. I wonder if she was brought up in surroundings such as this or whether she had something different?
Terfel is still mysterious to me as well. I found several letters for him with the supplies which is interesting. He must be of great importance to get letters! Only the head of the monastery gets any sort of letters and even those are usually very few and far between, usually from other monasteries. He can be slowed down - must be a previous injury of some kind, likely from the war that was fought. Again, I do not like to ask - humans are somewhat easy to offend and not always easy to predict. Whether he is officially our leader is a little unclear but it seems a natural fit to him.
Warden...isn't a human or elf or anything. He is something called a "Warforged" - a living person but made with metal and wood rather than flesh. It certainly makes sense with the lack of eating or sleeping but it still puzzles me. Why would someone create someone new just to fight wars? It seems this continent has a lot of turmoil within it. Also, those Swords were very rude to Warden, wanting to scrap him. Do others really see his people like that? A commodity? It's...disturbing.
Growth
23rd Olarune, 998 YK,
Mud and grass grow tall
amongst indifferent trees.
Blood stain on the rocks
Now, what happened here?
Well paid thieves stalk from bushes
and spear the party.
Spared lives - mouths kept shut -
loosened only by epics
told by the warforged.
Camp full of supplies -
kept from the needy, from sight
Unnecessary.
The trees watch on to
the misgivings of people -
silent again in
Sleep. Rest now, spared ones -
your sins fade in the Light if
you resist the dark.
amongst indifferent trees.
Blood stain on the rocks
Now, what happened here?
Well paid thieves stalk from bushes
and spear the party.
Spared lives - mouths kept shut -
loosened only by epics
told by the warforged.
Camp full of supplies -
kept from the needy, from sight
Unnecessary.
The trees watch on to
the misgivings of people -
silent again in
Sleep. Rest now, spared ones -
your sins fade in the Light if
you resist the dark.
Blue Hoods
20th Olarune, 998 YK,
There was an attack today when that...Princey person tried to do a speech. It was quite enlightening but I suppose not so enlightening for the attackers. One of them got me with their longsword (I'll need to remember to sow this later) and when we tried to speak to them, they were spouting all sorts of nonsense words. They called us serfs (which is factually incorrect) and tried to suggest that necessary evils were sometimes needed!
NECESSARY.
EVILS.
Such a bizarre concept to even consider! Evil is not necessary and goodness is needed to fight evil. You do not fight evil with more evil. That is just increasing the overall amount of darkness in the world. You do not assassinate, you use noble combat to fight or use reasoning to persuade or empathy to understand. There are some things I will never understand, unfortunately. Like the House Jorasco's insistence on being paid to heal people. That is unthinkable! Everyone has the right to life, to not die in a muddy tent (need to check with Honest Harold if he can get some more soap, there is never enough) in the middle of a field due to being poor. I understand that these Royal people are meant to be paying but the principle of the matter is bizarre. You do not meditate for coin, you do not train for coin, why would you heal for coin? It doesn't make sense and nothing I have said to Thara seems to change their mind and nothing that they say makes it make any more sense. Regardless, I heal, I clean and I empathise with the sick, the injured, the ill.
I am getting distracted but I do not believe this person really understands what they mean. They may have been misled by something called a "newspaper" which apparently is how people learn about new events. I suppose that must do if they are unable to learn things through any other means. Perhaps that is why the people here seem to hold the Riedrans in such high regard; they have been told incorrectly. Confusing. Perhaps everyone here has different definitions of oppression and evil than we have in Adar.
Today was probably the longest time I've spent with other people that has not been Warden or Thara or the long term patients. The Prince put us all into a team since we were able and willing to quell evil. I suppose that is as good a reason as any.
Terfal - a soldier from Old Cyre - seems to be fairly acquainted with the prince but given the size of the camp and the length of time it has been here, I am unsure why I am surprised. He has the look of a man who has lost a lot but hides it behind his stride. He seems to be determined in his goals which I suppose are the same as mine in this group so must be good. He was quite hurt during the skirmish but was straight into his next task.
We met his child as well - Llyr, I think - who was being taught a useful skill from Siebold. It is a start but the children here seem to be...strange. Very behind on the basics and I've not seen one meditate. Must be a Cyre thing. The child asked me if I had failed my brethren against the darkness. I could not answer him. Warden answered for himself but I still cannot. Medalshana pushed us out. If not, I would likely still be there. We were tricked and I cannot feel easy on that. Perhaps children are built to ask the difficult questions - that they are free to ask anything so they can learn.
The lizard Dax is...perhaps the most brutally practical person I have ever met. Threatened to eat the legs of one of the captured perpetrators. I believe she was pretending she would do that to intimidate the man but that's a bit...much for my tastes. I have seen her occasionally either going off to hunt or bringing in her kills back to the camp. There is little food so ensuring people get theirs is a good thing - there is no point in me healing people just to starve to death - so I know she is doing good.
Myric is very quiet. I know he is a mercenary so is exchanging his combat skills for coin which by all accounts is a common job here. I have yet to speak to him so I know the least about him from the others. I wonder if he gets to choose the type of people he works for? What if he starts working for someone who is thoroughly unpleasant? Or worse? He can also make a ghostly version of himself which is a pretty interesting thing to be able to do. Imagine the amount of healing I could do!
Warden is part of the group and I am happy for that. Although, I am starting to suspect that he is not...human? Or elven or anything else I have seen. The armour stays on, I have never seen him eat, he spoke about the day he was forged (birth? creation? It might be a strange saying over these parts but I do not want them to think me a fool). The strangest - the absolute strangest - is that the goblin told him he had woodrot! Woodrot! How can someone "get" woodrot?
Still, there are more investigations to be done and hopefully we will get to the bottom of this and get supplies flowing into the camp before too long.
The Refugees
3rd Zarantyr, 998 YK
In their tents, they mourn the loss of their land
and silent sorrow is death's deep refrain,
broken now and scattered but still, they stand.
As memories are lost like steps in sand,
those that are not lost are shrouded in pain.
In their tents, they mourn the loss of their land.
Wealth to poverty; soldier to farmhand:
they work hard and try to hide the great strain,
broken now and scattered but still, they stand.
Noble still, they try to now understand
how to accept the loss of all the slain.
In their tents, they mourn the loss of their land
Time moves yet their thoughts try to underhand
fragments of solace from those who are ordained
broken now and scattered but still, they stand.
Small comforts accepted; bigger things planned
as hope blooms, drawing in light and the rain.
In their tents, they mourn the loss of their land
broken now and scattered but still, they stand.
and silent sorrow is death's deep refrain,
broken now and scattered but still, they stand.
As memories are lost like steps in sand,
those that are not lost are shrouded in pain.
In their tents, they mourn the loss of their land.
Wealth to poverty; soldier to farmhand:
they work hard and try to hide the great strain,
broken now and scattered but still, they stand.
Noble still, they try to now understand
how to accept the loss of all the slain.
In their tents, they mourn the loss of their land
Time moves yet their thoughts try to underhand
fragments of solace from those who are ordained
broken now and scattered but still, they stand.
Small comforts accepted; bigger things planned
as hope blooms, drawing in light and the rain.
In their tents, they mourn the loss of their land
broken now and scattered but still, they stand.
Warden
Aryth, 997 YK
Steel clad soldier through the dusk and the dark
with bright blue gaze cut through the coming storm.
Healing and nature; metal, blood and bark -
an anchor in a place that transforms.
Strange ways and stranger now in the silence
after the fight and flight that we have done.
Offering nothing but true heart guidance
as the ignorance I knew sets with the sun.
Sailing again - water too dark to see
and alone I do not feel as we move.
Strength and kindness - whether in Light or tree.
Whatever noble deeds forever prove
even in strange places goodness does grow
even if goodness's face does not show.
with bright blue gaze cut through the coming storm.
Healing and nature; metal, blood and bark -
an anchor in a place that transforms.
Strange ways and stranger now in the silence
after the fight and flight that we have done.
Offering nothing but true heart guidance
as the ignorance I knew sets with the sun.
Sailing again - water too dark to see
and alone I do not feel as we move.
Strength and kindness - whether in Light or tree.
Whatever noble deeds forever prove
even in strange places goodness does grow
even if goodness's face does not show.
The Split
Aryth, 997 YK
Virikhad has left. The two strangers who are not Warden have left. We will soon be sailing again. Sailing isn't too bad once you get used to the waves and the hard work is good for contemplation but I cannot but help feel sad to see him go. I should restrain myself more. Emotions are...part of me but they will not and cannot overrule my mind. It is still a shame to see him leave but I suppose I can understand why. Tetkashtai was his life partner. If we had left Adar then I fully expected that they would get closer and have children. Perhaps they will wake out of that spell - even if Medalshana's eyes...
They still could. Medalshana was brilliant and Tetkashai was fierce, strong willed. I am sure they will and they will soon catch up with me in New Cyre. I am sure of it. If not then...they will either bring the Light to the people or go to the Light.
I cannot think on it any longer.
Warden is...strange but I like him. He might have not told us the entire truth when we met but he helped us and was even trying to convince Virikhad to stay. I haven't seen him take off his armor - which may be a custom - and he seems to be on a long fast and spends a lot of time in meditation. If he is not on the Path of Light then he must have some other dedication to good which is of merit to his people.
His compatriots I am less sure of, the one called Singe certainly distrusts us and tells us all these things about Riedra, about the charity work they do! Those fiends are seen as Good in this place! The concept is hard to understand - the people here do not understand the Inspired or the Dreaming Dark or anything about the reality of home. Whilst I understand - the things I have seen here could not be prepared in any text or tome - the absolute lies that the Inspired have spread here is astonishing. I suppose I must look at that like an opportunity, to educate the people here that they are wholeheartedly talking nonsense. Still, it is...troubling.
Still, I will be seeing a new city soon. New Cyre. I wonder if it has a lot of people on it?
Pursued
17th of Aryth 997 YK
It's been a long time since I have managed to take enough time to shelter to collect my thoughts. Running and running and running. Chased by monsters, chased by people who are unpleasant - this has been nothing but running!
I don't know what to think or how to feel. We've never been in anything like this - this survival mode, barely having time to breathe nevermind meditate. My mind keeps coming blank when thinking of what we were taught - how is that possible when I lived those lessons for so long? Am I singularly like this?
I still believe in my goal. I still believe in the Light. I still believe I am doing good and will do good but I cannot help but have doubt cloud my mind. Once I have time to think, I know I will be able to see clearly again but it is still worrying on some level.
We met three strangers and their horses. Their horses were very nice and the strangers fought with us against the dolgaunt and dolgrims and the Not Nice humans. They are mistrusting which given the circumstances I suppose is understandable but still nice to converse with. The one called Warden - he has the strangest armor I have ever seen but perhaps that is how armor is here? - advised Virikhad that he followed the Light. It shows that Light can shed its glory even in the darkest of places.
We will be heading to a hamlet soon. There are murmurs of movement, of splitting, of these wretched things following us. Virikhad is uneasy but at least we are safer in this group than we have been since we left the undergound.
What
10th of Aryth, 997 YK
The smell. The stench of rot, of earth, of death - I do not understand what happened. I remember so little and I feel it.
Some of them had two mouths (what where they?) Some of them had tentacles. I remember vague names from lessons long ago, in books that may have placed these vile creatures in some form of fantasy world. Most Dreaming Dark are quori - some their vessels. This is...this is beyond strange.
Il-Yannah preserve Medalshana.
Il-Yannah preserve Tetkashtai.
May they both find strength and find the Light.
Words are...failing. I am failing to keep myself in check.
Birds
3rd of Aryth, 997 YK
Dark winged and flighty, elegant as ink
writing in a holy book. Starving now
as food falls in hard times; fast as they blink.
Flying high, as fast as their wings allow -
head to the stars, the sun, far from the stink
of the famine - fly strong and disavow
the darkness as it quivers and now slinks.
Carry the song forth and sing out your vow!
Lead the song chorus of the feathered beasts
of this strange world I do not understand.
Take the wings aloft and sing of the feasts
that will come as all joy has all been planned.
Courage, truth, joy - holy as any priest
they will now take your wings across the land.
writing in a holy book. Starving now
as food falls in hard times; fast as they blink.
Flying high, as fast as their wings allow -
head to the stars, the sun, far from the stink
of the famine - fly strong and disavow
the darkness as it quivers and now slinks.
Carry the song forth and sing out your vow!
Lead the song chorus of the feathered beasts
of this strange world I do not understand.
Take the wings aloft and sing of the feasts
that will come as all joy has all been planned.
Courage, truth, joy - holy as any priest
they will now take your wings across the land.
On the Shores
3rd of Aryth, 997 YK
We have just arrived in Khorvaire and it is such a strange place! Stranger than I had imagined but that can only be a good thing - the stranger it seems now, the easier to understand even the more stranger things that will pass. The faster I get used to the people, the culture, the smell of this place then the faster I can really help them and that can in turn create more good in the world.
Medalshana seems to be hesitant, but I am certain she will feel different once she sees the difference that we make to this place. I am still somewhat unsure on why she agreed to join us as she was far more inclined to be more...traditional in her Path of Light beliefs. Which isn't a bad thing! Meditation and training are good and I still intend to keep these as part of my core worship but light needs room to spread and there is no point in hiding your light under a bushel. Inspiring good in others, noble acts, all of these can spread as quickly as any illness. Tetkashati and Virikhad understands! They were happy to join with me - they know that this place is full of people in need, refugees, veterans, poor...
I saw a bird. I have never seen a bird like it - dark and think and striking. Most birds I have seen are eagles and hawks - predators and alone. This place has many of these things, all seem to be starving, poor things. I gave one that landed on the boat some food - it seemed to eat it quickly as if it hadn't had food in a long time. I wonder if these birds sing? Small birds sing and they can be as pretty as the hymns during services.
We also met Dah'mir - a lovely gentleman who offered to show us around. Even in a time such as this - in the face of a massive magical disaster - there is kindness! It lightens the mind to see it.
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