The Stories of a Life Lived

[Emotionaloverload]

[A Matter of Loyalty]

‘Out to save the world.’ He said. It sounded more like an accusation. I’m not particularly fond of Lycans; even on a good day they are prone to Chaos. That said, I do appreciate their pension for deviance; it gives us something to talk about, something to have in common. Of course, he misunderstood my actions and the reasons for my presence. I don’t blame him. Everyone seems to have that same problem. I’m not here to save the world; that is impossible.

I’m just the clean-up crew. My work is mainly triage and most days all I can hope to do is move the mess around since the damage is so vast and so excessive that even a lifetime of effort could barely make a dent. ‘Save the world’ such prideful rubbish.

Pride is one of the few feelings I disapprove of. That would be putting it mildly and neatly. I detest it. It is cancerous and gives people the impression that they are more than the sum of their parts. Confidence is not to be confused with pride. Confidence can be logical and reasoned from evidence. Pride is just a pitiful waste of mental energy by weak minds that cannot find a better use for themselves.
It is that sort of pride that has me contemplating removing myself from the Arcane Tower. The collective self-importance of the Archmages is too high for even my discipline to bear. They seem to think that altering structure, by name mostly, will remedy their stagnation. In truth, the egotism and lack of earnestness in many of the ‘veteran’ arcanists is the source of the problem.

The situation is further exasperated by all the time I have been spending with the Nature walkers lately. They are hardworking, loyal and reasonable. The few outliers that exist are swiftly and violently dealt with. Their worker bee mentality has much of my love and affection; to work without expecting praise or gratitude or even credit. It is refreshing to see those that believe their work is never done.

The irony is not lost on me; a creature such as myself finding like-minded individuals among those that value the natural. Nevertheless it is the case and I intend to pursue it until I am cast out or set ablaze on a stake.



After the Wharftowners, how much worse could it go?

[Emotionaloverload]

[All About Balance]

I understand that Dwarves might not be known for their reason or their intellect but after the Thane answered “Mayhaps” to the question of conflict I had to fight with myself not send Daijin into another plane of existence. After all, she spent the moments prior trying to convince me of their righteous efforts and yet couldn’t contain the collective blood thirst of her ‘alliance.’

Don’t get me wrong, I approve of blood thirst; just don’t dress it up. You don’t need an excuse or a cause to want to kill someone or see them suffer. It is in our nature to want for violence. Many of us work past it; we find control. The rest do not; they allow themselves Chaos.

The entire situation reminded me of the bowl metaphor we were discussing at the Grove. The ‘alliance’ is concerned the water in the bowl will spill out on one side so they endeavour to tilt the bowl to keep the water in. Instead, the water moves to the other side and waits to spill out there. If they tilt too hard, more water than they were expecting will be lost. Yet, they do not see it; the truth of it.

All their zealotry and Chaos had made the tenday cumbersome. That coupled with the distinct lack of my Monk had left me looking for some measure of Order and pleasure. I had taken my pleasure in the company of Giogi Silveroak. Loyalty becomes him. In spite of conflict, opinion or cause, he is always steadfast in his motives and action. It harms him as much as it helps him which makes him endlessly delightful to me.

The touch of Order was found with the Banite sermon in Cordor. I was doing my best to behave and keep from smiling. I could have been there all day, in discussion, if they let me. I thought better of it. I would get too worked up in a crowd debate and that would only result in more work for my healer and me later. I’ll have to get the priest alone.



The very handsome priest…

[Emotionaloverload]

[Silence is Deafening]

I told the Monk the truth; the secret truth which no one else had ever known. I did my utmost to offer it off hand as if it were secondary or easy. I thought that it might be simpler to fathom that way. Even so, I don’t think he understood it completely; no one would. The sheer horror of it was impossible to convey in only words. You had to experience it.

I was sure that if the others knew they might understand, a little, why things went the way they did; why destruction was my only route. There was no other option available; not for me. I don’t know why I felt the need to tell him. Perhaps it was the natural urge to be understood; to bond. It didn’t help. It was like trying to explain fire to someone that had always lived in the dark.

I don’t blame him for it. I can’t understand the opposite; their way. It appears like such an abysmal existence. One in which there is no connection or influence from anything or anyone. I don’t know how they have survived this long or why they care about anything. The truth of it makes me think of them as these strange, foreign creatures that I cannot hope to ever be a part of.


The irony is breathtaking.

[Emotionaloverload]

[The Truth About Lies]

Daijin and I had it out in Brog. I find that most people tend to falter in their reasoning or confess the truth when pushed; usually due to lack of previous consideration of every angle. Of course, by the end of it, my point was the only one left standing but no surprise there. I wouldn’t have called the talk if I hadn’t given it considerable thought.

She was ‘sorry’. I find it odd how people can apologize for something, recognize a problem, and not change it. Instead she pleaded to keep at it. I let her. I had no reason to spite her for it so I put her back on her substantial high horse and sent her on her way.

Strangely, this mess started with a sincere trip to the Banite Temple in Cordor. I went there to listen to the priest, again. I tried my utmost to keep my thoughts in Order; to focus and discuss calmly but I couldn’t. He had this hopeful version of the world; some might see it as darkly but compared to mine it was bright and sunny. I wanted to be there, in that version, with him. I could see the block on which he stood but I couldn’t manufacture a path from my block to get there. I wanted so badly for what he was saying to be true.

Even he knew that it wasn’t; he said to accept the truth would invite despair and so he believed. I don’t understand belief like that or any belief, really. It was so beautiful. He could alter the world based on nothing more than will regardless of reason or evidence. I was beside myself with glee. My thoughts came apart quickly from all the excitement that I started to pile on whatever question was clearest in my head on the poor priest. I barely noticed his pleasing visage over the topic of Order. Needless to say, I was for naught later, as dazed as a drow in sunlight. It was delightful. I will have to go back again, soon.

As per usual, my presence was misconstrued. Every side; ‘good’ and ‘bad’ finds me sinister. I suppose that comes with the title of ‘Neutral.’ After several different types of interrogations, most with very pleasurable company, I found my culprit in Daijin. I didn’t mind, not really. I cannot hate someone for being themselves; for acting in a way that is natural.


But I can offer just enough of a fight to quell my temper.

[Emotionaloverload]

[So You’re a Little Devilish?]

I have a profound love for Pneuma; even more so now. He found me out from the beginning, I suspect, but he only announced it at the Nomad. To be fair, I wasn’t making any considerable effort to hide what I am but I wasn’t carrying a sign around either. All questions, comments or accusations from others I played off as best I could to douse their concern and it worked. No one suspected anything, not openly anyway.

I did try to hide it at the start but it was simply not possible to accomplish with any sense of accuracy. I concluded that it would be better to pick a more natural route and generate excuses and explanations along the way. With less fake variables in play I could control the setting easier. It would be safer which is further proven by the fact that no one has tried to stake me, yet.

It was only fitting that we would be called away from our talk by a sighting of devils on the Pass of Despair. The devils appeared in a conjuration circle at the crossroads and kidnapped a paladin. After assessing the situation we found ourselves drawn into the pocket plane created by a devilish entity. We were expected to play a series of games to escape.

The entity was Mr. Snuffles, the stuffed bear. Although, he did remark that he doesn’t go by that title anymore, I was thoroughly amused by it and will never pass up the chance to refer to him as such. Apparently, this entity presented itself in Wharftown some thirty years ago with a young girl named Jane. The bear was, of course, possessed. After an elaborate magical tea party, orchestrated mainly by the priest Cartan and Pneuma, that aspect of the entity was trapped and defeated. While at the same time, making that the greatest story I have ever heard.

Unfortunately, round two was not so entertaining. Mr. Snuffles was lured into the center of his pocket plane library-maze and trapped with abjurations. Thankfully, Pneuma was able to recall enough of the former runes used that I could correctly replicate it and pass it to the other ‘gamers’. It was a far less whimsical ending as the planes began to come apart after our success.

I couldn’t have had a more dramatic day.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Soldier On]

I had fought with myself for months about telling the Monk the truth. Each time that the notion swelled up in my mind, the moment appeared too perfect to ruin. Every possible outcome that I had come to was unfavourable and the one I wanted was incredibly unlikely. Nevertheless, after the confrontation with Pneuma, I knew I had to control the headline. I had to tell him.

It was my fault. All of it. I’m incapable of being a good soldier; working tirelessly without end or expectation of rest. I am compelled to deviant from the path; to seek company. It is my downfall. I thought if I only gave way to one then the damage would be minimal but even one is too many for a creature like myself.

This was a fine lesson; keep your head down and work. Some of us only learn through punishment. There was no logical reason to engage, to pursue, and yet I couldn't help myself. It was a beautiful escape that made each day so much easier to struggle through. It was compelled by greed and selfishness; unbecoming virtues for a soldier. Like a petulant child, ‘I want to’ was my only reason.


Pitiful.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Let’s Get Wild]

I wonder how many times the same thing has to happen to the same person before it can no longer be deemed an accident. The incident in the forest, months ago, was an accident. I lacked the control and understanding; the intent for it to be anything else. Although, even saying that does sound unusual. How do you accidental drain someone’s essence? Regardless of which way you phrase it, it always sounds as though you are expecting the listener to believe that you slipped and fell into it.

This time was different. I didn’t even struggle with the Malarite; it happened so naturally. By the time that he realized my goal it was all over. A succubus kiss was the perfect disguise. He lay at my feet and all I could think was that this was the most peaceful I had felt in ages. I tried to get him to leave. A small part of me was content not to stir this devil again. The rest of me had practised the technique for the last several tendays, set up the meeting and ensured privacy. I suppose I am the worst deviant I know.

My mind was reeling beforehand. I was envious of the Banites and contemptuous of the Harpers; the first so quick to stand together and the second too quick to stab their comrades in the back. All the lies, the blackmail, the violence, and the zealotry; it was maddening. I needed a moment, a break.


And I took it.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Two Roads Diverged In A Wood]

I enjoy Pneuma’s ability to take a secret, clench it in his fist and squeeze until he gets something he wants out of it. I figured if anyone should get to grill me on the incident it would be him. The air around him changes when he is angered, disappointed or frustrated; it gets thick like syrup. Regardless of how many times I see it the sensation remains startling the way sudden glass breaking always gets a reaction. Once he had thoroughly made his point, he returned with the ‘gift’. I do appreciate that level of manipulation. The gift already diverts thought. So much so that it has left me puzzling over it.

Understandably, the Malarite was livid. He said that two paths now lie before me; that I cannot stand and stare for much longer or the choice to pick one will be made in spite of me. I’ve seen both paths for a while now. I have tried my best to evaluate the merit of each but they seem to stand as equals. Both have promise and struggle and things that I want and others that I can never have. I know that if I should pick one, the other path will be lost to me. I don’t feel prepared to lose the potential of either, not yet.



How do you become ready for a choice like this?

[Emotionaloverload]

[The List]

‘You can check this one off your list.’ Marcus said. He made it seem like freeing slaves was a chore. I know that he meant to say that I was always occupied, always working. It is a comment I have been getting often. People say it as though it was a bad thing but really I wouldn’t know what to do with myself otherwise. I don’t enjoy socializing. That is not to say that I don’t do it; I’m not as bad as Pneuma. I do it at the Grove; a place where conversations deteriorate quickly from small talk to work talk in a matter of moments. I like that. There is so little effort at pretense.

Then there are other conversations that I have been making active effort to avoid like Naleeah or Andy. I’m not hiding, per say. I just feel that the difference would be most noticeable with them and I don’t need the trouble right now. Naleeah is persistent. I will have to conjure an appropriate course of action for the Festival. Pneuma’s gift has been aiding in this but my mind is stronger than he gives it credit. I can only hope that dragons or ghouls or some evil attacks somewhere on the island to call me away early from the event.

It may be difficult to conceive how an individual can relax or recharge without reveling in pointless activities however for some of us such activities are harder to accomplish and take away from the goal of relaxing. Instead of pointlessness, I relax through study; books, training in combat, the Art or druidism. On top of that, I go to sermons. I enjoy the talk of faith and Order and potential. When I miss a sermon, they are kind enough to go over it again, privately.

I relish in the priest Rosenkranz the most. He reminds me of polished basalt statues; utterly captivating. There is a certain air about him that concerns me; even more so if I am caught in a room alone with him. I promised Pneuma restraint; I promised to narrow my exposure to possible targets but, surely, even I can indulge a little, from a distance. How else should I test my discipline?


Practise makes perfect.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Go Big Or Go Home]

I don’t know the exact cause that set me off. It may have been the compilation of incidents over the month. The first was the aftermath of the attack on Wharftown. Pneuma insisted on playing it down; perhaps for my benefit but it only served to infuriate me. It wasn’t even his fight. Bryce started the conflict unprepared and functioning purely on will and rhetoric as if that won battles. He has all the forethought of a box of lemon; the idiot. Now the fight has taken on a life of its own, dragging everyone down with it.

Next came the ki exchange between the monks. I shouldn’t have been there but the notion didn’t occur to me until I was already dazed by their presence. When they engage in such activity there is no moral debate yet when I do then I’m the bad guy: the thief, the deviant. I was almost bouncing off the walls from sheer delirium before Minerva gave me the excuse to escape. I was barely able to be considered company for the hours following that. I wandered around like a thrall. Ridiculous.

Finally there was Judith; the Temptress. She approached me after Eztli’s treatment and offered her essence as though it were nothing at all; casual and common. I turned her down because I’m a lunatic; a masochist even. I should have taken it. It was on my mind all tenday and ate away at me like a fever. I have had to fight with myself not to ‘accidently’ come across her again. Pneuma will have my head if I do.

It all made me a bit worn so that the confrontation with the Healer escalated faster than it should have.

I love anger. It is my favourite of all the emotions. There is nothing else quiet like it; it has focus and madness and movement and stillness. It is the perfect union between Chaos and Order. It is almost unnatural. I believe that that is why it frightens people and prompts them to bury it or cast it out. I like to indulge in it when the moment allows for such. And it did, with her.

She could see right through me; it made her angry. Not angry at all that I had done but at the fact that I behaved as though the others would give me refuge; protect me rather than burn me at the stake and cover my remains in lye. She was, of course, right. I have been flippant. I have been behaving as though I was able to pour my heart out to anyone and they would find their empathy and bring aid.

I knew the truth; I just behaved contrary to that knowledge. In doing it that way, there was still hope left but it was all made real and inescapable when she said it out loud like that.



I couldn’t contain myself.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Bought and Paid For]

I missed Elizabeth today. I didn’t recognize the thought right away; a burning ache that I couldn’t quiet place. Then it suddenly occurred to me; not after the auction but after the bet in Wharftown. In spite of her proclivities, you always knew exactly where you stood with Elizabeth. If she gave you something it was a privilege that you earned. That is what I loved most about her.

The thought of her and our talk on the cliffs sealed the choice I had been battling against since the argument with the Malarite. She had taught me everything I needed to know to survive. Now it was important to get past myself and put the teachings into practise; to move forward.

I’m dreading it. Such is true mark of denial, I think. To expect that the universe will shift and somehow everything will be different, everything will be better; that, by sheer luck or Fate or divine intervention, I won’t be locked in this cage. Though, I have found that when you have nothing; truly nothing, even your freedom, you are free to do anything.


You just need a plan.

[Emotionaloverload]

[A Terrible Thing to Lose]

Pneuma’s confidence often has me feeling as though I might be behaving irrationally. It is disconcerting. He is an advocate of wholeness and unity for my ‘personal’ problem. Elizabeth would have advised the same for very different reasons. Although, I have already made the choice over a month ago, I cannot bring myself to it.

Yes, the mind; this mind would be a terrible thing to lose but that is not the reason for my apprehension. The result will likely be damaging to everyone else. I base that assumption on the facts; facts that Pneuma refuses to acknowledge in anything other than a positive light. He views uncertainty optimistically and assumes that the few redeeming traits will be enough to carry the weight of the problem.

It is transmutation 101. You cannot create something from nothing. Furthermore if seventy percent of your basic materials are irreparably flawed then the remaining thirty will not be enough for you to manufacture a desirable product. That by no means suggest you cannot create a product; you can only work with what you’re given and so your range is limited. Either way, there is no other option.


I have stalled for long enough.

[Emotionaloverload]

[In the Name of Love]

I couldn’t have picked a better final evening than spending it with my love. What more could I do? There was no plan, no players set in motion, no resolution. I was out of time. There was nothing left but sweet farewell. After all, what was the point of all that work; all the peace we worked so hard to establish if not to enjoy some of it with our loved ones?


It was a beautiful day.




One I will never forget.

[Emotionaloverload]

[The Prodigal Son Returns]

Life is such a dazzling affair. I’ve been floored by the splendour of it. I have rushed around all month trying to catch up with everyone. They all seem so much more beautiful, so much livelier than I remember. I suppose, like one deprived of water, it is all the more delicious after absence.

Honestly, it has been difficult and sad to return. Being here is like standing in a dark room with walls made of windows and behind every window glows a light. I want so badly to see every light, to enjoy them all but I can only see one at a time and when I do another might change or fade. It is a sad thing to be limited by reality and law; to be unable to meet everyone and feel for them.

There are new faces, as well, that I have found delight in. One that stands out particularly is the languishing Alicia. There is something so musical about her and yet she is so withheld. Too often during interactions with others she remained silent. At first I thought that perhaps she might be intimidated by their presence or she didn’t care for them and so said nothing but seeing her with her ‘friend’ prompted the same behaviour. It was so odd and painful to behold.

There are many old faces that appear altered in my heart. Even Merin, a willful defiler of the beauty Sune has tried so hard to impart, has seen a turn in my perception. Her anger, hate and loneliness are incredibly overt to me, now. It hurts me to see her battle against the world in that way rather than embrace it but her choices have been made.

Thankfully, very few noticed my absence. Vega said that many of the comments and observations were abated but so few noticed initially to be bothered to ask. He is angered by it. He thinks people care for nothing but themselves otherwise it would have been obvious. It was obvious to him, Minerva and Brother Pneuma. I disagree with the sentiment. I think people prefer not to pry and believe that if you are troubled that you will come to them, if you need them.

Most people are taught not to love and be open. You should not fault them for something they do not know and, often times, do not understand.

[Emotionaloverload]

[The Big Reveal]

The problem with making assumptions about people is that if their image changes abruptly it becomes difficult to alter them in your mind. You still think of them in the same way in spite of the facts. I had such a problem after the not-so-secret meeting at the Bathhouse. I had never really seen a drow before. I wasn’t sure what to do because the image didn’t change in my head. I think, maybe, that was the part that upset me the most. Or the actually upsetting part was that everyone knew the facts of the situation and no one thought to tell me; even after all that.

People seem to be doing that a lot lately. They leave me out of conversations that involve anything more than frivolity or disconnect me from projects. I don’t mind terribly but I do mind. I understand why they do it. I’m not to be trusted. They always double and triple check my presence; they keep an eye on me as if I’m a criminal. I guess that I am, in a way. Nevertheless, it makes me sad to be so out of favour with all of them. The world feels much smaller because of it.

I will have to find a remedy for it soon.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Adventures in the Broken City]

The sky was clouded over with a perpetually brewing storm. The streets were paved with cracked cobbles and went on as far as the eye could see with house after house on either side. Each house was different yet all were in ruins. Any garden or potted plant was wilted and every tree twisted strangely as if frozen while acting out a macabre pose.

The city had no colour as if I had stepped into the Shadow Plane; it was all a dull, sad grey. Yet, in the center was a bright and vivid Tower made of books with a single window at the very top. Around it flew a menacing ice dragon; round and round in a constant, focused circle.

I walked the streets for a while trying to find a way to the Tower but the more I tried, the further away it got like a cruel ruse with a carrot and a donkey. After that, I looked for anything familiar in the shattered windows as I past them. It was all dark but I could feel the contents in the same way you recognize a friend behind you without being alerted to their presence.

I stopped first at Daijin’s house which was a massive stone manor with a dead garden of tea roses outside. She had a great many rooms inside but the only that sticks in my mind is the music room. She wore a wonderful ballroom gown that swished this way and that as she danced around in circles to harp music coming from a small music box. Only her hair stayed in colour but even the sun-kissed locks couldn’t light up her absent, doll-light gaze. I looked at the dancer in the music box who seemed to share the fashion only to see it was Daijin in the room, dancing around and locked in place.

The next house I found to enter was Minerva’s. It was a small desert tent yet inside there walls were wood and damp as if below deck on a ship. She sat on a stool against the back wall in her armor, gonne in one hand and a smoke in the other. Chained along the walls were snarling demons of every size and shape trying to claw their way to her. She watched them; ever vigilant and always ready.

Bryce’s house was most unsettling. I couldn’t even enter; it was all ablaze in black flames. He stood in the fire screaming and burning. The smell of flesh was so thick in the air that it made my stomach turn. In there with him were three corpses burnt to a crisp; an adult and two children.

I thought, for sure, that Brother Pneuma’s house would be alright, it would be safe. His was a quaint wooden shack but inside it was a large arena with two Pneumas battling one another. They were locked in mortal combat however ever blow that landed healed just as fast and no matter how much breath was spent or blood was shed, neither seemed to tire.

I couldn’t manage much more than that. I awoke; tired and weakened as if I had fought off an army.

[Emotionaloverload]

[The Tower of Books]

I was confused and upset after the attack in the Swamps but I didn’t want to tell the others. They wouldn’t understand. Elizabeth would have; she would have been on my side for it. I’ve had her on my mind more and more lately. It has helped a good deal in figuring everything out.

Another helping hand has been Sister Naheeah. We spent the day together. It was wonderful; quiet and close. It was just what was needed to remind me where we stood and why. I tend to forget these things out of love but it can’t go on for so long.

Without the two of them, I doubt I would have made it to the Tower. The trip was sudden and to the point; so much so that I had to sketch it when I returned so I wouldn’t lose the image. There was no dragon, no hellhounds or golems. The way was free of enemies and all that was left was a deal.

I haven’t decided if I will take it, yet. Although between Daijin and Marcus, I came very close to it today. I have to confess that I am rather scared to take it. The fear isn’t because I don’t know what will happen but because I know exactly what will happen; we both do. I think that’s the problem. The only other person that knew it all, knew the truth is dead.

[Emotionaloverload]

[The Deal]

I agreed to the terms. There was no other direction that I could see myself going in. I tried the other ways; it didn’t pan out. Now it was time for a change. After all, when your heart calls you to something new, you must pursue it.

I wasn’t expecting things to move this quickly but, I suppose, this is how it goes when you have two highly focused individuals to follow. I’ve never been in a team before. I’ve had no family or friends in the normal, real way others have which makes this so different, beautiful and safe.

We move like a unit without confusion or deception. It is indescribable how glad it has me feeling. We always take a moment here and there to stop, recalculate, and continue. I like that. There is something very open and uncompromising about it.

We’ve also had long talks mainly about Daijin, Bryce and the others. It has taken me a long, long time to come to agreement with them on such topics but they have made considerable effort to make me see the truth. I almost didn’t believe them until the incident in the library and Wharftown. Alice has this incredible way of orchestrating a situation to generate the truth; getting someone to do or say something that they try to hide or withhold. It is all clear now, sadly, and I cannot go back on it since it isn’t just about me anymore.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Wharftown]

The days have felt as though I have been stuck in a whirlwind. Often times, I barely have a moment to enjoy the moment since there is work and more work to get done. Although, Minerva sometimes bribes me by saying that if we finish what was discussed for today then we can go to the bathhouse to relax and have a drink. She doesn’t have to bribe me but it is sweet of her to find an excuse to get me out to my environment.

The two of them don’t know how to relax. Everything has to have two purposes or it isn’t worth doing. They grow restless when idle which makes it so that there are hundred things going on at once. That is not to say I don’t enjoy it; I’ve met so many new people this way but it takes a lot of getting used to.

There is work to be done for the Waymen: administration, training, drills, recruitment and equipment; all on top of enforcement and patrols. Then there is the Swamp project to assist travellers and secure the roads a little better in an effort to prompt trade efforts. After that is the resource project to help settlements, individuals and merchants. Next is the merchant master list because everyone is tired of never being able to find the right craft. Another is the lighting up the Pass for travellers and general safety. There is also collaborating with the Guard and the Hawkin’. And this is only the city related issues.

We’re assisting with two separate scholarly texts, three research projects, gathering healers, and waiting to work on the stories project with the new Festhall. All personal matters are not counted as work, thankfully, or the list would be massive. On top of that, combat related projects are also omitted from being ‘official’ and placed a under ‘when you have time’ heading.

All in all, it is very busy and loud. I am at least glad that I was given time to finish the piece for Elizabeth without negotiation.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Banites and Betrayers]

I had my first real taste of Banites at their most recent sermon. The atmosphere was very welcoming and familiar. It almost seemed unfair because I was reaping the benefit of someone else’s effort. I had never thought to approach them before; I found them rather frightening.

Lady Ann offends the Sunite in me due to her ‘alterations’. She is a large, powerful warrior and it shows with her every movement; it is enough to startle me. However now I see that there is also something almost maternal and protective about her manner. I find it somewhat comforting even as she makes me nervous.

First Chaplain Pelagius was always a terrifying figure. His relentless stoicism, militaristic conduct and practised words often made it seem as though there was no getting around or to him. But now I have this inescapable admiration for him; he is devout, purposeful and perseveres in spite of everything. It also certainly helps that he looks like a marble statue and his voice is like cream. He had me hanging on every word.

Chaplain Rozenkranz used to appear extremely sinister to me like a gentleman villain from a story tale. Now, he reminds me of fine wet silks clinging to the body; delightful and seductive. I get foolish around him. I don’t know what it is but I successfully managed to butcher just about every comment I made since he was sitting right behind me and kept leaning forward to whisper. It was the best day in a Church I’ve ever had.

When we got home from the sermon we had a big what-for about loyalties and purpose. There was very little to disagree on. It made the following days all the more difficult to bear. Everyone else seemed to be behind the Betrayers in Guldorand but I don’t quite understand why. Why praise someone for being deceptive and disloyal? I understand that Daijin and her company are always eager to take each other’s eyes out for the Cause and so are likely to promote this in others but, surely, this is not the sort of behaviour that should be perpetuated.

That is not to say that you cannot change your mind; you should pick every action and path with care and if you have made a mistake you should not be lauded for it. In everything else, when you are mistaken, you have to work to meet expectation again and to earn trust yet in this case, they stand behind the Betrayers. Perhaps they do it quietly or with some reservation but that isn’t good enough.

As if that were not enough, if one of their own betrayed them, they would be up in arms and as loud as they could manage. They would attack those in support of the Betrayers. This difference in standards makes them appear disingenuous and unreliable. After all, how can you make friends or allies with people that have no principles?

[Emotionaloverload]

[Slavers and Socials]

I was really very excited to go to the Auction in Sibayad but we had decided that consorting socially with slavers or supporting events that benefit slavers was not a good stance for the Team. I can’t say I wasn’t more than a little disappointed. Sister Naleeah had set up a contract to work the Auction and I was eager to see it through and partake in all the art. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way.

The ideas that were presented against slavers were twofold. First they impose an all-encompassing degree of Order upon another individual that it either breaks said individual’s means of logical thought or it provokes Chaos through rebellions and the like. And the second was littered with a number of colourful curses that mostly breaks down to; Slavers are greedy, vile creatures that are not to be trusted and carrying on with them socially will give others the impression that their actions are condoned or Lawful.

That is not to say that doing business with them, when needed, was not permitted. I find this distinction between work and play to be a tiresome one that is difficult to generate appropriately; mainly because I have never had to do it before. Work was play and just about everyone was invited.

Honestly, I’ve known a good deal of slavers over my profession and them being vile or not had nothing to do with their trade. However I do agree with the sentiments expressed but only because slavery removes joys, more so than anything else I have found.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Disagreements Aplenty]

A group known as the Browncloaks are plaguing Cordor and the surrounding areas on the hunt for Warlocks. Their methods are questionable and their results vary which has sparked all manner of debate across the island, including my house.

Of course, I have been voted against two to one, as per usual. The argument is that warlocks are dangerous creatures much like one might consider an Underdarker and that they cannot be trusted due to their very direct affiliation with dark powers. Now, I’m not disputing this. I’m just suggesting that everyone is dangerous or, at the very least, they can be. A man with a loaded gonne can be a dangerous menace but is he? It depends on the man, his reasons for the gonne and his intent.

Granted, this isn’t exactly the same as a warlock since their abilities are linked with a certain responsibility and, given the nature of the powers involved, they will likely have to do some unsavoury things to follow through /but/ that does not mean that they cannot do other things as well. Everyone does a few bad things, even the so-called goodly people.

What if you do some bad things but many good things; does that make you bad? A paladin has to kill a man to save another or to ‘free’ Guldorand from the Banites people had to murder, lie, cheat and steal. How is that different from this? If you are allowed to do a bad thing to do a good thing then surely you can do some bad things in order to have the strength and ability to do good things.

It gets complicated the more you think about it and I don’t think very many have given it much thought. Either way, I have to side with the Team and stay on the decided message.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Fishing for a Story]

I have collected a great deal of stories over the years and I plan to collect a considerable amount more. I have a terribly vivid imagination which allows to me partake in stories like few others know how. Yet, out of all of these stories, there is only one that I wish could be in. Out of all the characters, creatures or monsters, I should only really ever wish to meet merfolk. It may seem silly or trivial but I truly cannot think of anything I would like more to encounter myself.

I heard my very first story of merfolk when I was a child on the road to Mosstone by a fisherman that, surely, should have been a bard because he had me hooked with his entrancing telling. Ever since then, no story on the matter was enough to quell my curiosity.

I’m fortunate to have the chance to search the seas; every time the Waymen all set out to sail I hope to catch a glimpse, at the very least, of merfolk. It has yet to happen but one of our new recruits, Brashen, was kind enough to indulge me with his personal tales about them.

He is wonderful. He has story after story to give out and he almost never needs any prompting. He reminded me, inspired me to commit tales to parchment and go in search of more. It was because of him that I got Fenix’s shirt off in a Cordor alley.

…Well, maybe not all him but it was certainly for the story.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Gathering the Goodlier?]

It seems to be a trend on Arelith that when there is a crisis of any sort people start to repeat comments again and again until the factual particulars are so obscured leaving nothing but panic, confusion and anger. This is the case with the current Warlock problem.

It is because of this that I sat down to convince Lady Nyx to rally settlements and the appropriate individuals together for a Forum. If everyone can speak freely and calmly then we have a chance of sharing in a solution or, at the very least, understanding the positions of those that would go another way instead of assuming that there are shadows behind every corner.

The main problem is the normalcy and blanket trust afforded to the Warlocks because they are seen as victims thanks to the way in which a small handful have decided to handle the situation. That is not to say that some Warlocks may not be special circumstances but, much like an Underdarker, they should earn your confidence.

Another problem is that the three wizards; Merin, Daijin and Alicia that were thoughtful enough to pool their knowledge into a published text on the matter are seen as the palemaster, the zealot and the Sharran which takes away from their words. The few that don’t know their reputations end up discounting the text anyway saying versions of ‘Wizards are just as bad’ or ‘It’s the same as a Wizard.’

My hope is that open and active conversation might allow for a variety of voices and ideas that can combat the problems of this issue across the island without instantly resorting to violence.

[Emotionaloverload]

[Two Fiends Walk into a Bar]

The house is too quiet. I’m not used to the quiet or living in one place like this. Half the time when I am inside, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m lucky to have Minerva always handing out orders; so much so that I joke by answering her as ‘Mistress’.

It isn’t usually overwhelming in the house but we were sieged by shadows led by a Darkling while outside of Benwick. The trip was trying enough and that was really the last straw. I needed something to relax and dull the silence of the space. I was hungry for company.

I found that company in Rosenkranz. There aren’t words to accurately convey the sheer delight that he can generate. I was incredibly fortunate to get him out of his priestly robes and into something more fitting. He was bashful and I suppose my enthusiasm didn’t help with that but I was dazed by joy.

I think he finds me a little less suspicious now. Everyone always thinks there is a second agenda to everything; some sort of betrayal afoot. My agenda became a little more…obvious. At least, it seemed like I got my point across thoroughly.

I thought that having him over might cleanse my palate for a short while but it hasn’t helped at all. I have had him on my mind all month. I can’t wait for a second date.