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Letters To Another Time; Naris's Journal
Topic Started: Oct 13 2011, 07:56 PM (227 Views)
Naris
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The journal is simple, comprised of several bits of parchment bound between two thick sheets of leather. The parchment and leather covers are bound by a braided, golden rope, tied at each end in a clean knot. A sloping, elegant engraving follows the edges of the covers, the indents flecked with a thin layer of gold dust. The engravings curl in upon a pair of small, slightly chipped emeralds that adorn the outer corners of the front, pointing in towards a large set of Draconic runes. A particularly deep crevasse on the front cover holds a worn green quill, loosely bound in place by tied straps of leather. The pages inside are covered in slanted, but clean script, devoid of unnecessary curls and smudges.
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Naris
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On: Death

In our last encounter with these bizarre, unknown forces hunting us, I received my first serious injury. The evil Tome in our possession spawned some sort of shadow demon, an assassin. Upon speaking its name it made an attempt on my life, and I witnessed my own shadow rend my shoulder to the bone.

It was a fascinating experience, really...it is true what they say, that time seems to slow to a crawl in moments of trauma. I felt no pain as the blade penetrated me, but I do recall feeling a skin-crawling discomfort as my muscles tore. If felt like ripping leather, feeling each thread give way...I do not recall feeling pain until the brief moment when the blade connected with my shoulder bone and was abruptly drawn from the wound. The sensation of the sharp blade touching my bones, then pulling against my damaged innards as it left, followed by the dank air hitting my exposed wound, was excruciating. I believe I hit the stone floor at some point, and I remember wanting to bawl out loud.

In all the time I spent with my mother, and even training with my former master, I had never been severely injured. Never needed any major medical attention. Never broken a bone. Hardly ever been sick. As I felt my robes get wet and hot with blood, I had the distinct realization that it may very well be over. In retrospect, many have survived worse injuries, but lacking a basis for comparison I could only focus on the draining feeling coming over me. My memory is vague at this point...but I seem to think a wave of darkness passed over my vision, and feeling the sensation that I was going to vomit.

The next thing I remember is carefully leaning against a wall of the chamber while my comrades attacked my assailant. I use the term "my" loosely...it was just intent on killing the rest of them. I experienced a slight resurgence in my faculties, and I recall being overwhelmed with anger. An overpowering, controlling desire to rip our enemy to shreds like a beast. I can't say I'm entirely proud of what I said after that.

Once Morgar, Sharess bless him, healed me, we were victorious...but I feel empty. Had I been killed...what would have become of me? I would be surprised if I had not received a proper burial, but what impact could it have had? Mother, if she is still alive, has no idea that Raynor died, let alone that I left to fend for myself...would anyone resurrect me? The thought that I could be resurrected to fight for the undead forces from which we now flee gives me shivers. What will become of me? At which point does my life-and therefore my death-receive meaning?
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On: Kindness

I feel terrible, and yet immensely proud. The constant battles have put me more on-edge than I'd like, and I sometimes find myself hearing Mother's voice in my head asking me why I'm doing this, or that. Why don't you ask that gentleman his name? Why don't you make sure she's alright? It's as though I'm not quite all here...and the thought of losing something to these monstrosities is bad enough.

I didn't used to care because I wanted to emulate her. If someone didn't like me, then they could find someone else who could waste their time for them. My scales could shred any insult, any cold word. But I feel like an eternity has passed since then, and I feel older than I truly am. I'd rather not waste my time with someone other than these comrades of mine...There is something here for me to learn, and I know I have not learned it yet. And in spite of a perceived slip in my diplomatic skills, the people I meet grow all the more interesting, and interested in our enterprises.

And even still, I had the purest interaction one species could share with another tonight. An Umber Hulk...some massive, underground-dwelling creature that doesn't know daylight...surfaced during our battle with the zombie wave. We perceived it as a threat, but Marbles-Io's blood, such a fascinating individual-spoke to it to lessen its hostile instincts. As the dust of battle settled, we learned that this innocent creature hadn't eaten in days, and came when it smelled the metals in our cargo. Between the fallen zombies' armor and a bit of the cargo itself-poor guards, I sensed their frustration with us-we gave it enough nutrients to sustain it and it left, leaving a gem in its wake. Such fascination! What I wouldn't have given to get a closer look at the beast...and what's more, I feel the kindness of the gods smiling upon us for our deed.

Is it weakness, or a sign of my growth as a leader? Must I maintain the toughness I developed, or is it safe to start reaching out to those around me? Damn it all...perhaps if I asked myself easier questions, I wouldn't have to wait until reading this in the future to answer them.
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On: Trust

My experiences with my comrades have been interesting, to say the least. Some of them-Marbles, whom I believe means well-I trust, and even consider my friends. Others, like Variz and Morgar, and the many aides who have come to us...Iaral...Jarlaxle...I wish to know better. I foresee so much potential in all of these relationships...the bonds we could forge, the reaches of which exist perhaps even beyond my comprehension. If nothing else, the knowledge we could share! So many experiences, so many places for our very minds to overlap! I have not ruled out the possibility that, in the end, I will not be able to trust them all. I suppose some may even become enemies...but now is not the time for that.

The events surrounding our little pocket of existence continue to thicken and increase. The Ashmadai continue to pursue us, but we have held our own admirably. Fascinating, though, the way we interact... as we defended the city walls I watched my companions turn our enemies on themselves, and in the midst of action it sometimes seems as though our allegiances could change at the drop of a hat. But, I suppose I'm rambling. Such a change in manner could be a temperamental matter, at the least.

What is it that makes us trust others? What is it that makes us let our guard down? Is it when they make us laugh? Is it a matter of charisma? Or it is purely the effort made to share experiences we would otherwise keep to ourselves? And for that matter, what makes us question those bonds once they've formed? Furthermore, in what quantities do these make a bond last despite hardship? I suppose that I'm now in the best possible position to find out...but it will prove difficult. Even now, I am making my first forays into a world where someone may have cause to harm me, and as a result I cannot allow myself to treat these individuals as family...not yet.
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Apart from the other normal journal entries, you notice that this one is hastily scrawled, and divided into parts.

On: Reality

I've only stopped long enough to write this because we have found a few seconds' worth of haven from the monsters. To be short: we all met each other again at the inn and all was well, but upon venturing to the House of Knowledge an evil spirit of sorts wrenched us into some other world...it looks similar to Neverwinter, but this world is black, and seared by plumes of magma. Bodies pile up in the streets, and angry souls permeate the very air we breathe.

We were here a matter of minutes, and already we were backed into a corner. Fortunately, we were saved by a hooded stranger...I say stranger, but in the brief glimpse of him that I saw, I felt a pull from within my core, like a thread tied to my stomach. A pull of familiarity that has been the most comforting thing to come out of this nightmare. Now we flee through the path he has laid, and we owe him our lives.

I wonder if this world is real. I wonder if I will wake up, or if we are truly victims of some measure of dark magic. Or, perhaps I am dead. I hope I find out. I hope we see light again.

The next block of text is spaced a bit below the first, and written with a slightly calmer hand.

It feels like an eternity since I last wrote those lines-and what's more, I don't feel as though I wrote them. This place truly changes people. It is almost as though I am beyond my body here, acting normally, but only a shell of myself. I wonder what has come over us.

We received some aid, thank Io. I feel encountering them is just the smattering of normalcy we needed to elude the horde. But, I sense further trouble ahead of us...I hope that we have allies we can trust.
Edited by Naris, Nov 17 2011, 04:11 PM.
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On: Adventure

At last, a reprieve! I could not be more relieved to be back in the..."real" world, I suppose. So much of that bizarre other realm is a blur to me-my head aches as I think of it.

We eventually stumbled into a camp and offered what help we could, resting even though I believe we were all too bewildered to feel better for it. Brandis, a leader of the resistance force we encountered, explained to us that this particular brand of misfortune was the result of mischievous dark magic that makes the land a haven for the evil and deranged. Fortunately, despite our adversity, this strange world also suffered from weak boundaries between worlds, and when a portal opened at the camp site we were able to slip through. I don't know what more I could do to dwell on this matter...

I do not know where we are now, or how close we are to Neverwinter. I wonder how far we are away from the rest of our allies. My senses returned to me in what appeared to be a dark shack...there were a few windows, but it-and the door-were covered in prison bars. Some of the others peered outside and said the forest around us was crawling with gargantuan spiders, so I suppose it's fortunate that we were barred inside. We were, oddly enough, united with Balashi, though. All that remained was a downward staircase, so we forged ahead. We blundered along somewhat carelessly for what seemed like a while as we regained our bearings, like thoughtless children.

Such a ridiculous place, I could not give it a name! Every corner held a different statue of some creature that seemed to hold no relation to the others. For a while Marbles even used his Psionic powers to carry an odd bust Daryl uncovered with him, which for some bizarre reason we later used to terrify some errant goblins. I don't know what on earth we were thinking...but I digress.

We proceeded carefully, and what should we find but VaDanti, blubbering in a pool of water, surrounded by animated skeletons! We eliminated them easily enough, and vaDanti followed us after collecting some of the "water" for herself. Seems it contained a flammable substance as well. Perhaps this brush with a dark world spat us out in an unstable manner, which would be typical of otherworldly boundaries.

As things grew weirder, the next room contained nothing more than a simple fountain and an empty basin, and upon lighting the basin Morgar blundered into our midst. Looking back, I really cannot see how I could fail to question such a bizarre turn of events. I pray the nightmare didn't leave us all slightly demented...

However, it simply wouldn't be fair and right if we were able to escape violence, would it? As we continued, still amassing straggler adventurers, we encountered the goblins in a ritualistic summoning chamber. We fought off the goblins, but it was all for naught; before the confrontation was over, we realized the channeler among the group was urgently warning us of the sealing ritual we mistakenly interrupted. Again, such an outright failure of our usually thorough manners.

Blundering past the blood-stained statue of a demonic toad...I feel absolutely silly writing that...we reach a higher level of the dungeon to a true threat-an impassable wall of corpses and a basin of what was most likely goblin's blood. Cornered, we braved ourselves and valiantly fought off the demon we released, as well as the dungeon's last remaining horrors. The creature was unlike anything I had ever seen, and more powerful than anything I could have imagined...perhaps enough to stand among the Ashmadai.

It was a fearsome trifle, but I must admit...I have never experienced such a synergy before. We fought not as individuals thrown into ill fate, but as a group...as we would if we truly wanted to protect one another. Somehow, despite so much chaos and confusion, we understood the gravity of the threat before us and threw all our might at it. For any war hero, it would have been a sight to behold. Our reward was something for a good tale as well-gems of power distributed amongst us. Mine feels warm, as though it were a vibrant ember...

At this point the strokes of the quill become slightly more erratic, but the pages do not betray a sense of urgency or fear. No...the strokes are cleaner than that, as if a lighter-perhaps more friendly-external force were jostling the motions.

I must hold my thoughts a moment, so that I do not forget this-I believe Marbles's age may have addled him. The demon was slain as it was failing to devour our construct friend, and Marbles, hoping its corpse my contain valuable materials...crawled inside of it. He...he wore its flesh and matter like clothing, and paraded around in it, spewing fire and bile as it did when living. And he kept it...

I felt guilty at first for relishing in our victory, but is it not still good to punish the guilty, not knowing that the Powers That Be will? Besides...something incredible has happened, and my heart soars for it. Once we escaped the treacherous dungeon, we happened upon a rare sight indeed-the tomb of Neverwinter's former king! I was stunned to be privy to such a sight...this place was obviously buried for a reason. Come to think of it, I wonder who those skeletons once were. Oh, if we disturbed a crypt...father god, forgive me.

In the room we found a gong, and, being the curious people we were, we rang it. Somehow, an enchantment spawned strange portals in the floor, and, still fueled with the hot blood of a true adventure, we excitedly reached inside. We all found a great many objects-bottled Dragon's Breath, enchanted lanterns, so many wondrous items! But I must thank Marbles for a most glorious find...he drew from the portal nearest him an icy spear-which spoke to him in Draconic.

The handwriting, having stabilized before, now begins to appear more rushed and emphatic.

Once it was kindly handed off to me-I ought to part with the Dragon's Breath in the interests of fairness, since I would never need it-I had the most moving experience since my time alone in this world. The spear was forged in the lost kingdom of Arkhosia-Arkhosia! The home of my people! And inside of it dwells the spirit of a slain Wyrmling...an infant dragon named Shivli. And we spoke...and I felt as though I were holding my daughter in my arms. Perhaps it was just the innate power of the spear and my natural bend toward it, but I truly felt as though I had encountered kin. She sounded gentle and naive, like a child who has never known pain, or fear, or hardship. And perhaps it is that which made me feel close to her-after all, am I not still a wyrmling in this world? I feel so isolated despite my age, as if I was taught nothing of the world beyond my old scholar's grounds. If Shivli will have me, I hope that we may learn from each other and make good use of our common ground.

I never thought I would hear the siren's song of the adventure...before now, I have treated my time as an independent as a means to an end. What a fool I was...in forging ahead, I have been leaving behind everything that could be worth the fight. This is it...the very essence of legend. And between that, and bonding with my comrades...my friends...perhaps I can have a home again someday.

Just maybe.
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On: Diplomacy

My, my...what a day it's been.

I dreamt about Shivli last night. I followed eyes through the darkness of my dreams and met what appeared to be a very old - but very kind - Dragonborn named Sora. A remarkable man...he explained that he was Shivli's former caretaker, and that he had done what he could to sustain her when she...just a small, white Wyrmling...was slain. I cannot fathom anyone who would have the intestinal fortitude to kill a creature still so deep into infancy.

However...there seems to be hope. Shivli can live on within the frost spear, and in my dreams she does have a concrete form. I have been chosen to succeed Sora as her caretaker, and I will perform this duty to the very best of my ability. Our bond fills me with much happiness. And what's more, keeping Shivli alive requires that I learn Frost magic in order to take care of her...and I have now done just that. It's only a small start, but...when I use the staff to channel my powers, Shivli augments them, and the result is unlike anything I have ever felt. I herald this new power as a gift, and I hope that this all enriches my life as much as this journey has.

And more still - I will get to see Sora again! At least, I believe I will, in some context. He led me to believe that that would not be our last conversation. I look forward to seeing him again, he is very kind and wise. I feel I could learn a great deal from him.

Well, after I awoke, I could not go back to sleep...so, I decided to step out for some fresh air. As I write this I recognize the mistake; it's not like the Ashmadai are no longer a threat. I could have been killed...but that's irrelevant now. I went out for a brief walk thinking I'd tire myself out, and was cornered at the edge of the woods by a few Humans...who were naked. It was horribly awkward, considering how "happy" they were to see me...but I could not help but notice they all bore tattoos of Sharess's insignia. Thinking it would ease the threat of confrontation I admitted that we shared a deity in common, and all manners immediately evaporated from the situation. They tried to kidnap me! I discovered, as they reunited with more of their clan - Eladrin, Dwarves, all manner of races, and all quite nude - that they were an extremist sect who lived in isolation in the woods and practiced Sharess's teachings to the most extreme, word-by-word interpretation. They swore that once they "inducted" me, I wouldn't want to leave...I was forced into mild combat just to get them off of me, and I hardly escaped. Fortunately, they were hesitant to leave the woods, and once I was a safe distance away I re-applied my disheveled robes and stumbled back to the Moonstone Mask. Thank goodness Daryl was there to aid me, or who knows what would have happened to me...it does give me pause to reflect on my own god devotions, however. I wonder if Sharess still has more to teach me at this point...if she would still be able to arm me with more power with which I could venerate Bahamut's name.

When I finally made it back to the inn, the others were gone! I spoke with the innkeeper and he knew where they were headed, but I apparently arrived too late - when I approached the bustling town of Thudertree a full-on raid was in the works, and my comrades were attempting to stop them. Without hesitation I flew into battle, and I admit that my concern for my friends put a bit of a damper on my diplomatic skills. I am not always so quick to join a fight, but it isn't like my allies are not capable of accurately judging a situation...I just wish I had thought more carefully. It's a good thing that a lively stranger came to our aid and put a swift end to the conflict despite our valiant efforts. The invading Orcs are now seeking a compromise with the townheads so this will not happen again.

Yavuz, his name was - he is a pleasant man, obviously as intelligent as many of the others. I have no qualms about our little group continuing to grow. I cannot explain it, but...the air here, despite the dust of battle, seems strangely uplifting. There is a pleasant aura here, and I intend to enjoy it. Perhaps it wouldn't kill me to show people a more relaxed side, no?

Relaxed, and in control...I think I could stand to show a little more of myself to these people.
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Naris
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On: Purpose

This has been most peculiar time...it feels very strange to slacken the usual tenseness I feel when I am interacting with others. I feel as though I truly lived in the moment today.

We found lodging in Thundertree and I gratefully made up for lost rest. Their beds are bigger here. When I awoke there was still no sign of many of my companions, but I did track down Morgar, Marbles, and our new friend Yavuz. It would seem that rumors had been circulating of a cult harassing Thundertree, so we set out to see what we could find. It makes me happy to know that we adapt so well to new situations and surroundings-despite all the running and all the confusion, we continue to jump fearlessly into aiding others.

I wouldn't expect to find such a dense swamp near a town so dry and dusty, but we navigated the wet, sloppy terrain for the better part of an hour. I'm still brushing dry mud from my robes...but, I suppose they're due for a wash anyway. We finally came upon an old, dilapidated temple that Yavuz determined was the epicenter of the issue. He seemed to be well-versed in this particular cult...might have mentioned some god, I can't quite recall.

Once we managed to get inside, the staircase that would have led us into the temple was broken, and the floor and walls were in disarray. It took a bit of doing-more than I would have expected, we should be old hats at this-but we did manage to get up there, running quite immediately into a band of the offenders. A reptilian people...they may have even spoken Draconic, I'm not certain. But, there was obviously no reasoning with them, especially their Warriors...they proved themselves to be fierce adversaries. I can only imagine what harm they have caused-but more on that later, perhaps. But, we gave our best effort fending them off, and were ultimately victorious.

We fought well! Somewhere in the midst of the fight, Memnarch even showed himself, and we all fought with a true flourish. Marbles wasted no time donning his bizarre toad-forme...I still have yet to wrap my mind around that. But, he seemed to terrify the...Snaketongues, I believe they were called...and deal quite a beating. How odd, that someone so naive, so curious, could hold such power. We're fortunate to have him with us, and I consider him a good friend. Memnarch...he seemed to say little, I wonder if he has been well. He was gone from us for quite a while, and I'm not even entirely sure how he found us. But, he is just as powerful as ever, almost fearsomely so. I hope he'll stay a while this time; if nothing else, I would like to learn more about him. Morgar was...Morgar. He fights with the same valor and strength as he has since the day we met, and I feel a certain brotherly comradery with him. I really ought to find a way to thank him (as much as the others) for being such a faithful, strong companion. Yavuz is an excellent fighter, just as the rest of them. I haven't seen such finesse and elegance on the battlefield since I last shared it with Jarlaxle, and I find it heartening. At one point I sustained quite a blow from one of the warriors, and before I could retaliate from the wounds his power pulled me from the reach of that evil blade and the marks in my flesh were gone-I felt better than I had before the battle began! I hope we all find some stable place to celebrate one another, because we have all come through for each other admirably. I grow happier and more proud of our accord with each passing day, and I dare say that defending one another has become something I genuinely enjoy. It is as though some part of me has...let go...I move and breathe with more ease, as when I lived with Raynor that eternity ago. Gods rest his soul...

Now we have barred the room from further entry-rather than leaving, we determined it would be best to not allow the cult to strengthen their numbers. We are resting now. Perhaps...perhaps I am allowing myself to relax too easily, I am not sure. It is only a short time ago that I felt I could not allow these people into my life. But, at the same time...they take care of me as I do them, and even if our charter is not permanent some part of what has transpired must have been legitimate...surely. All I know is...it feels strangely healthy and comfortable to wake up each day and live it with purpose, with substance. Yes...I think I will try belonging in this life now.
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Naris
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On: Failure

What am I doing?

I see no further reason to not spell it all out here-perhaps if I do I will not forget again.

Mother and Father are gone, and I don't know where they are. I don't even know if they are alive, but if it truly mattered to me would I have stopped searching? Would I have allowed the simple act of getting lost to distract me? How much does freedom take precedence over one's own kin? In any case, when is it right to simply walk away?

Raynor is dead. Unless he expertly concealed his age or some illness, his death does not make sense. Nothing in his last words to me could point to any solution, and if there is foul play afoot then it could be anyone. A long-time enemy, be it his or mine? A threat to our clan? A poacher looking to retire early? Raynor's archives told me nothing. I searched for hours, so diligently-until I left. What now? Did I expect to just find the answer somewhere whilst helping the occasional person? Or was I to just carry him with me and accept his death without logic? Considering one or both of my parents may have the answer, ignoring any of the other Dragonborn I have met, why am I not looking there first?

They chose me as their leader, something I still do not entirely understand. Is it my mistake or theirs for believing that objectivity and levelheadedness alone could fulfill this role? What excuse could possibly validate day after day of battle, on a path that thus far goes nowhere? Where are we going? Will the Ashmadai kill us? We claim to do good, but to what end? How much do I truly guide and protect them? I speak for them, these are my questions to answer. Yet no answers come. They have done more than save my life on multiple occasions-they have replaced, even if temporarily, the gaping void that the absence of my entire clan left in my life. And I have nothing to show for it.

I have conducted myself as one who is a dependent, as I always have been. I have failed in what has been asked of me. I am failing in what has been asked of me. If I have any hope of living my life in anything but isolation, solitary confinement, subdued loneliness...I cannot fail again.

But what happens now? What actions, what thoughts, will mend my errors? I have no one but Daryl to confide in...Shivli is too young for such a burden, and I cannot help but wonder if the others will do anything more than dodge the issue or placate my concerns. For once their kindness is best put aside, but I cannot make them do that. Raynor? Sharess? Mother? Papa? What have you taught me?

Always recover, for there is another day ahead.
There is no greater shame to family and clan than to relinquish responsibility for oneself.
Emotion is Essence, and the ability to share one's Essence is Trust.
It is what we do with the gift of life that determines who we are, for the Light and Darkness in us all is malleable to our touch.

Yes...I know this to be true. Intelligence, Strength, Honor...these things become a part of us when embraced. Shame and Error only crumble. I will not forget anyone again. You are with me, you are in me. I will not fail again-I will rise, and we will rise together.

I know what I am doing.

The words below are written with a greater pressure and intensity than the rest of the script, and the lines are sharper and harder.

UTH VETHINDAS EN THURIS, ZU'UTH ALOK.
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On: Teamwork

At last! It took a few days of intense combat, but we made it out of the temple alive. The Snaketongues will no longer pose a threat, and Thundertree is safe.

I did honorably by my blood tonight. We fought dependably, and looked after one another. I led the charge, thinking that my spells could weaken the lot for Marbles and Memnarch, as heavier strikers...and I made some impact, but their retaliation effort was extreme. I was cut, bound, poisoned, bitten...I cannot tell if they saw me as that much a threat, or simply did not know that I did not come alone. But, my allies helped me recover from my wounds. I am still a bit weak, as though my breath comes short, but I believe I will recover just fine.

Of all people, Sykes made an appearance. He must have somehow gotten wind of where we were and arrived with reinforcements-a barbarian woman, and a man who could transform into a vicious wolf. There wasn't much time for introductions...I don't know that I can recall their names at the moment. But, they were incredibly powerful...I'm not sure we'd have survived without them. I pray they will stay this time.

I have begun to see a certain...primal beauty in combat among these individuals. There is something simple, compelling...something right about the flourishing and formidable execution of spells and strikes. My allies...I should hope, sometimes, my friends...are mighty, and even in the midst of battle I find myself being overwhelmed with awe. I could just stare at them...they are truly brilliant. I wish I could properly thank them all. But...perhaps I can come up with something. Some way to adequately celebrate such good company. Perhaps...there is some light in our future.
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On: Authority

After a few days' traveling, we've arrived in what they call "the Protector's Enclave". It is a nice place, very inviting. The people seem kind, and the shop hands are helpful. I wasn't able to gain any word of my family name, nor have I encountered an Apothecary or doctor yet, but I have hope that I will learn a great deal here. VaDanti also encountered a spy for the Bregan D'aerthe...I know they are not our allies, but that does not have to lessen my respect for Jarlaxle and his contingent. I feel more secure nonetheless.

I was about to ask Iaral ...Zanne...I don't feel comfortable calling him either at the moment. I've been avoiding it...I feel sorry for him, knowing what he has experienced. I still regret the way I treated him when we discovered his true identity, but...it was necessary. We faced threats. Anyway, I was about to ask him about the nature of our presence in the Enclave, what the next step would be-when Morgar and VaDanti were investigating the sewer system beneath us. A presence began to stir beneath us as VaDanti threw herself into the sewer (much against my judgment-perhaps I should have been a little more forceful). Something happened, and horrid, malformed drakes and skeletal beings surged forth. The market square quickly cleared as Morgar pulled VaDanti back to the surface-thankfully no one seemed to be hurt. The skeletal monsters fell quickly, but the drakes were a bit more difficult to overcome. I failed to reason with them as they were too far gone from the spellplague, so yet another battle began.

Battles continue to become easier for us. It is obvious that the constant threats are less of a surprise to us than they used to be; we move and fight like water, fluid and synchronized. The drakes were certainly not our hardest challenge, and beyond VaDanti's little adventure beneath the storm drain there was no conflict; we supported each other without objection, without a second thought. I felt a genuine sense of mutual respect amongst us, and it gives me great optimism for the road ahead. I felt the way I always hoped I would as a leader: respected, understood, listened to, but in no way worshiped. Sharess kos werid, it brings me great honor.

As soon as the drakes fell a hush came over the bystanders. A figure entered the square...he burned with cold fire, dressed in an icy but regal blue. Neverwinter royalty...the commoners called him King. I was stunned, and even though I did not know him I could not help but be overcome with a sense of overwhelming respect.

However, no one was given the option to rejoice-as soon as he arrived, a massive white dragon descended upon the square. It oozed with spellplague and spoke in a distorted voice, clearly deranged. The King and myself both tried to reason with the beast, but it was to no avail. As the battle began, he earnestly continued to try commanding the beast while we defended the down from its rampage. I even attempted to intimidate it into slowing its assault, but...that didn't work very well. At least I tried. We fell into fluid combat once again, fighting alongside...well, His Majesty...and defended the Enclave with everything we had. And...not to brag, but based on the cheers of the townspeople, we looked like true heroes.

I feel great pride and confidence; I think my favorite part of this experience is seamlessly slipping back into one's day, not missing a step. I got my weapons appraised by the vendors-Shivli is in incredible shape for being a couple of centuries old-and a good, strong Dwarf gave me some thread to sew into my robes in order to strengthen them. Now I'm going to go downstairs and relax in the Moonstone Mask for a while now that I've rested a bit.
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On: Risks

What an exhilarating night this has been! We were directed to The Beached Leviathan, a comfortable little seaside place that seems to be converted from an old ship. I took a seat at a table with Yavuz, vaDanti, Morgar, and Balashi, while Sykes sat one table over with...a friend of ours. Oh, I'm so excited I can hardly write legibly!

Sure enough, the gently-slanted but clear writing is just the slightest bit smudged, and the ends of the letters seem a bit too short or too long in places.

Harrag-a bear of a man, personable enough-was kind enough to sell us the finest alcohol he had to offer. He was stingy about it, though, concerned that vaDanti alone would kill herself on it. Just beforehand I had been debating over whether or not I wanted anything to drink-I like to keep my wits about me, after all-and everyone managed to tell me moderation was the way to go. And why not, right? I have grown a bit tired of strangers calling me dull, and I've been fortunate enough to not get that treatment from these individuals yet. I didn't have to do what Ciela did and drink myself into a mirthful stupor (as positively adorable as that was-I would have hugged her if I could). So, I thought I'd chip in for some of Harrag's Finest, but by then it seemed Yavuz and vaDanti had not only talked Harrag into parting with it so we could share it with the entire tavern, but also an...Elemental being, I believe...named Len-Jes kindly covered the cost. "A favor from the city", Harrag said. I suppose good news travels fast.

So, we took it back to our table, exchanged a lovely introduction with Len-Jes, and tasted Harrag's homebrew. I was not expecting such a harsh drink! Knowing I could down two bottles of wine before I began to feel uninhibited I thought I could handle a mouthful of the stuff, but it was like drinking my own Dragon's breath. Fortunately, that seems to be the limit of its effects on me. I felt a bit more...loose, but perhaps I was just happy to be relaxing for once. I admit, it felt a bit awkward to drop a bit more of this "leader" facade I've felt the need to have thus far. I wasn't prepared to have any more, though-I remembered very quickly who I am when I'm drunk enough, and if I had let the others see I don't know that I could have taken the embarrassment.

At this point, a group of armored officials entered and approached us, and their announcement was so unexpected that I was momentarily unaware of the hostility that filled the bar upon their arrival. One of them appeared to be a General, and she said the King wanted to see us! Imagine, me, meeting a king! I never thought something so amazing would happen to me...if only my parents could know about everything I've done, and be proud of me. But, alas, that's where that story ends for now. For some reason, those patrons hated...hated...them! The next thing we knew, some drunkard yelled out to them and the place erupted in a brawl.

The idiocy of these people! I do not mean to brag, but I think any one of my friends would agree that I'm pretty damned tolerant; but these idiots decide they are going to take whatever personal grudge they have against these individuals and just let it spill over into our lives, as if we don't have enough to deal with! As if they don't all bloody know we just saved their town from annihilation! Even if the General and her companions had it coming, they clearly were there on business, and I can't see how our summoning can't be tied to our victory as opposed to something negative. For once-just once-I was sick of all the fighting, and I wasn't about to let this one happen. I let my mother's temper come out to play, perhaps with just a hint of my father's insanity. Those drunkard got to see a tall, strong, angry woman, scales and teeth shining in the bar lights, telling them to sit down and mind their own damned business! The brief hush that rolled over the bar was replaced by slightly more tentative fighting, but not before some poor soul wet himself in fear. I'd like to think I would make any Dragonborn proud with that kind of display.

The brawl ended almost as quickly as it began. Before I could so much as throw a punch-not that I really thought doing so would be a good idea-my companions had tied up, knocked out, or befriended the sloshed patrons. I'm not kidding about that one, vaDanti passed out more of that awful booze and the fools happily went back to drinking themselves to death. That wasn't before she became confused, however, and tried to offer herself to Yavuz (and continued to do so throughout the night, which was a bit awkward. I can't imagine something like that happening to me, so I could understand how uncomfortable he must have been). Morgar was tying them up and forcing them unto suggestive positions-quite well in fact, I got a laugh out of it-and our hooded friend...I watched him engulf two assailants in a strange black miasma, then dispel it a breath later having rendered them unconscious. I've only seen that rare kind of fighting from a few individuals in my time, so he immediately struck me as familiar. It's amazing the rest of my companions didn't catch the way I barely kept still-such adrenaline, such livelihood!

Given the state of things, the General and her men said they would retrieve us tomorrow, and left before things got any worse. We cleaned up, apologized for any mess we might have made, and played an unexpectedly thrilling little guessing game before everyone else recognized Jarlaxle as well (I think by then we were all riding a bit of an adrenaline high). That man fascinates me to no end...everything he does, even in combat-no, especially in combat-has such an air of ease and finesse to it, and that alone steals my attention; some of his spells and weapons are another story. I would give my kingdom to learn what I could learn from people like him! I can only begin to imagine what more I could accomplish...but, those thoughts are for another time. We had a laugh while he feigned hurt feelings that we didn't remember him, and for the first time in...longer than I thought...I laughed, and felt secure enough to jibe a little with my companions. I actually felt they understood me well enough to discern humor from insult.

One thing does trouble, me, though (if it really can be only one thing). Yavuz and Jarlaxle took part in a brief and...somewhat confusing exchange. It frustrates me that I know so little, that I could be missing so much...but, the net of it was that Yavuz's deity was dead, and as a result his immortal soul was at risk. He is safe so long as he can be kept alive, but...I would not be so quick to dismiss the unthinkable. I didn't realize until then just how much every one of them mattered to me...I couldn't just let one of them die, I couldn't allow for that kind of danger. But, there's so much we cannot control; every day we gamble with our lives. They are all we have-just as they are all I have-and yet we risk making each day our last. Each day together could be our last at all.

But, just because there is a lot we cannot control does not mean there is a lot we cannot do. We are strong, powerful, incredible individuals, and I don't seem to be the only one who is content with our current arrangement. Knowing that...knowing us...this is a risk I am willing to take.
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On: Individuality

For some reason I never thought I would say this, but I'm having so much fun! Thank Sharess for the gift of such an adventure, because it has heightened my appreciation of everything in this life! If only Mother and Papa could see what I-what we have accomplished.

After Marbles grievously trashed The Beached Leviathan a bit more, we set out with Len-jes to meet with the generous Lord Neverember. It would seem that the townsfolk were mistaken: he is not the King, but he is standing in for the true heir. Which, I suppose could mean he is not the same fellow who fought alongside us before...Aus, this is confusing. At any rate, he was a perfectly hospitable gentleman, with a surprisingly easygoing demeanor for the regent type. We were tended to superbly before agreeing to set out to the great wall that separates our little haven from the spellplagued chasm beyond.

As soon as we arrived things gave way to conflict. A small group of bandits were ravaging the Gate, but we made quick work of all but one of them and they have been taken into custody. Unfortunately, that was not the end of it...Yavuz and I, he more than myself, were feeling the effects of the Spellplague significantly. I've read a few records and accounts of the phenomenon, so I knew to expect it, but...nothing can prepare a person for the overwhelming feeling of wrongness that fills them. As we did in the bandits, so to speak, and took them into custody (which wasn't difficult, since a few of them surrendered upon being faced with me-who knew I was so threatening?) an agent of the city by the name of Seldra appeared with Variz in tow. Lord Neverember had mentioned her to us, but said that she was unavailable prior to our departure.

We were also privy to a Genasi stranger and a brooding Tiefling; I hope they followed us back here, so I may get their names and thank them for their assistance. Our introductions were cut short as a fresh burst of evil overwhelmed us. Yavuz and Seldra...whom I believe may be some of these "spell-scarred" individuals I've heard about...seemed particularly pained by it, and vaDanti was having trouble standing (though I think that may have simply been a side effect of vaDanti's usual complications). Nevertheless, I rushed everyone into a nearby gazebo and tried to tend to them, but didn't have a chance before the chasm erupted and a pack of plaguechanged beasts destroyed the gate, threatening this fair city once more. Drem, they managed to recover.

The forerunner of this legion was a massive white wyrm. The hatred of dragons that inhabits the rest of my kind is no secret to me, but I could not help but feel pity for the beast, as its once powerful mind was now long gone. But, I could not dwell on this for long-I would sooner spill my own blood than allow this creature to harm an innocent, let alone my friends.

At this point the writing appears messier, as though it were written with an ill-controlled hand.

Something...inconcievableinconceivable happened to Yavuz. In the midst of the assault he transformed into this wolf-like warrior! His voice changed, and he spoke with the conviction and power of...of a god! It was indescribable to witness...he was stronger and more powerful than most anyone I have ever seen! To share the battlefield with someone so amazing...I am humbedhumbled, excited, thrilled, exhilarated...there aren't enough words to describe how unbelieveableunbelievable it was to witness! Oh, to wield such power myself, or simply to understand it...the thought makes me weak! I'll try to keep my excitement in check when we next meet, so as not to look like some sort of foolish child! Frini, I am fortunate they will not know about those errors!

We were all incredible...vaDanti valiantly threw herself at the creature, as though it were something other than a hulking dragon-and seemed to shrug it off after it threw her a hundred yards or so! Seldra and Sykes used their own incredible power to fell our enemies; I could grow drunk on the wealth of experiences, the wealth of knowledge they must possess...and our Tiefling friend and his faithful beast did their own number on the brutes. We mush have been such a spectacle...power unlike some have ever seen...the glory to my clan alone! Oh brit, I am thrilled! We are so wonderfully unique, so beautifully talented-each leaving our own hand-print upon this world. It is more than I ever dreamed of wanting!

The words become clearer now, the writing hand tentative.

It's funny, actually...The others deserve my thanks, but perhaps Yavuz in particular since he was the catalyst to my epiphany (only perhaps, they are all responsible). We are not simply individuals...we are utterly bizarre! Yavuz told us outright the other night that he had been dead for-a couple of centuries, was it? Something like that-and it wasn't that no one looked upon him with disgust or disdain or fear, though no one did...that's not what is important. No one seemed to bat an eye, and they never have! It would be as if all the idiosyncrasies that make us who we are were as mundane as any normal bloke's-and we seem to like each other all the more for those things! I just didn't see it! If all of this can happen...if we exist in such a place of acceptance and affability, could it...could it be possible that I do not have so much to hide? How could my flaws-even the most gross and abject of them all, my defect-compare to some of what I have learned about them? How can I say I am any better or worse? Maybe...maybe this arrangement is not as ephemeral as I perceived initially, and...it would be okay for the world to see a little more of me...

The thought makes me nervous, regrettably, but...who could blame me for judging myself so harshly? I am more like that which my people despise and less like my people themselves...surely I would have trouble knowing friends...or a family of my own, or...an Ahmul, if they knew what I truly was. But, if this is where I'm going to be...perhaps...perhaps I was wrong.

I suppose I won't know until I try.
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Naris
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On: The Future

We were summoned to Medrash's plane again. It was a smooth transition though - he certainly knows a thing or two, doesn't he? I can only imagine what he could teach me...but, he strikes me as a good teacher, a kind man. I like it here; it's beautiful, and we seem to be able to create our own physics. Why, right this moment I'm sitting the way I would if I were in a chair, but there's nothing beneath me. I simply wanted something to support my sitting, and it was there - it's fascinating! I would love to study here. Perhaps I will brush up on my meditation techniques, or look into some of the Sharessian rituals I have in my notes...but privacy might be a bit better for that, and I don't know what I could just summon some. The dancing and such might make the others uncomfortable.

I arrived several minutes after the others, and couldn't make sense of what was going on. Yavuz and vaDanti were horsing around, and one of the new faces there...the name escapes me, but it sounded similar to Sharessian, oddly enough...seemed to feign disappointment in me not knowing them. No coherent conversation was taking place regarding our arrival, so it was kind of annoying at first. And for some reason, no one seemed to be particularly happy to be there - how gloomy. Positivity does such wonders for a person, I don't know why some people don't cling to it. I wasn't expecting so many people that I did not recognize, either. I'm very curious as to how they will ultimately affect all of this...but, I'm sure they're just as curious of me.

But, things quieted down eventually. It was really nice to see Iaral and Medrash again - I missed them. I'm strangely comfortable around them, for reasons I don't quite understand, as though I were at home. The new...I assume they are mentors, or guardians...of our little troupe seemed equally dedicated to the task, which was reassuring. What an interesting bunch we are! I just wish that anyone we met would stick around for longer than a day or so...especially when they're there enough for us to have an impact. It's mean to make us worry. Am I the only one who thinks of them, and wonders where they go? Perhaps losing people so suddenly in the past has predisposed me to this kind of frivolity...for that matter, I've only just now wondered if they think of me. How absurd I would look, dwelling on these individuals while they live their lives as if they'd never met us at all...I suppose I'll know someday, if I'm meant to.

They explained to us we were summoned to spar with some sort of simulated creatures, designed to emulate those that might be implemented by the Red Wizards of Thay to aid in our destruction. It's baffling, looking back...I wonder sometimes if I would have chosen to pursue Kagarn had I known what would have become of it. On one hand, this is clearly a threat beyond our comprehension; on the other, it could be so large our efforts are ultimately futile in stopping it. But, that is irrelevant now. We'll learn what we can and defend ourselves and each other from this evil...and we've got to start somewhere.

Iaral seemed oddly serious...at first I found it rather unpleasant. Barring the time we discovered his true identity he has always been such a warm presence. He kind of reminds me of my father, at least what I can remember of him...wholly capable of control, but expressive to a comfortable degree. But I'm sure it was nothing personal-it's just the gravity of the situation, and that's perfectly understandable. When the time comes, I will be ready to face our foes with the appropriate candor. I can at least say I've got that part down (thank you Raynor, Bahamut rest your soul).

The fight was intense, but necessary, and we were victorious. I don't want to be cocky, and I strove to not let this show during our fight, but I am excited now about facing some of these minions. They seem to be particularly affected by my magic! It could be quite entertaining to rail into them...They hit quite hard, though. The muscles in my stomach are still sore from taking a blow, and a couple of the others got thrown about as well. Yavuz recommended we target a certain enemy early on, but he wouldn't explain why he felt that was the best thing to do. We are going to need better communication skills if we're going to survive...there is still a bit of disjointedness that happens when we try to coordinate. This does make me worry.

Tonight seemed to be a particularly eventful evening for Yavuz...the Masters spoke to him, albeit somewhat cryptically, about using the Hammer of Tyr to orchestrate his destiny. They all sounded serious about it, the way one would while talking about that sort of thing, but it seemed like happy news to me. But, it makes me happy to learn more about my companions, I...think I miss being close to someone. I know what they say, that one's clan is with them always - Vethindas getherisj aak - but we are all here for such different reasons, and some of them seem to prefer not getting too involved. I still feel very alone, though it doesn't bother me so much now. It makes me feel better to know that they understand me, even just a little. Perhaps we could still stay together, after all of this is over.
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On: Honor

Well! Barring that puzzling nightmare we blundered through a while back this was the most action I have ever seen. We were escorted to the Neverwinter Crypts by some of our allies - I was with Regdar, which I did not mind. I admire his unwavering dedication to whatever task at hand, something I wish I saw more often. I am sure anyone would be fortunate to have him as an ally.

When we arrived Iaral and the others were inspecting a dead body. We couldn't determine much at the time, though it looked like a combination of a mauling and a knife to the throat. The entrance contained evidence of a struggle (namely, claw marks on the floor), and two braziers - one of acid, and one of blood. It saddens me that we lacked the time to give this stranger a proper burial, but...there were more pressing matters.We eventually gathered, through the din of many independent investigations, that the Red Wizards had already passed through on their way to a greater prize. Sometimes I wonder how we get along at all, amidst all the chaos we create; but, if it's one thing I'm learning from it it's grace under pressure!

We happened across a Thayan magic trap: a magical seal inscribed on the floor and two man-made pits, each containing some creatures that were not happy to see us. Some of the others disarmed the trap with haste, and Variz and I managed to break down the locked door before the monsters could attack us.

As we ventured deeper we came across two Wizards and some giant abomination they had summoned, blocking some sort of arcane barrier. The giant had to be eliminated, but with help from my companions I successfully negotiated a cease-fire and an intel link with the Wizards controlling it (when vaDanti and Variz weren't making death threats, that is). I'm rather pleased with this! I think it's impressive for someone whose horizons of knowledge are still so narrow. Perhaps diplomacy is my secondary calling.

We learned a surprising amount of information from them, considering I sensed a mind-control spell holding on to them. They explained to us that the gruesome scene we saw upon our arrival was the work of their master, Valindra (which baffles me, as Valindra proved to be a lich and not some sort of maul-happy animal). They were scarce on the details, likely because she was controlling and monitoring them, but they agreed to stay in touch with us in exchange for their freedom. I possess some subdued optimism regarding this arrangement - I wonder if cultivating this connection could result in some sort of resistance, an uprising...Oh, how glorious that would be! But, I mustn't read into it too much. They weren't terribly excited to see us.

We advanced after their departure to another arcane barrier, which we disarmed thanks to advice from our "allies". However, our investigation had eaten into our time and we arrived just before Valindra succeeded in rousing the Nine late Lords of Neverwinter from their rightful resting places. Iaral made an honorable attempt to stop her, but failed, and we grudgingly accepted that which lay before us. We exchanged mutual blessings of luck and victory, and the battle for Neverwinter's history began.

The battle was intense until the very end. We have very little understanding of the Wizards' power, or of Valindra's, because no one has really briefed us on the matter - I intend to try and rectify this. But, we gave it every last ounce of our strength, and it showed in each of us, in its own way. We fought our hardest, determined not to let each other down, and despite overwhelming odds we succeeded.

This would not have happened, however, were it not for Brandis, who stepped up and claimed his place as the true heir of Neverwinter! It was incredible to witness the reclaimed souls of the Nine bowing to his blade, after Valindra had been banished...at least for now. Her phylactery was not there, of course. To think, all this time it was him...I imagine everyone is very proud of him. It's so funny that we would all meet by chance and more than one of us shapes up to be something significant, someone destined to permanently change the world. Naturally, I wonder what will become of me...

It didn't occur to me until I witnessed Brandis's experience, but I wonder if my family and clan would be proud of what I've done on my own. I wonder if I have brought honor and brilliance to the name Aethendar? When Raynor passed, I took it upon myself to spread the news of our clanmaster's death, despite not being able to locate anyone else - I found what might have contained records of these locations amid his possessions, but they were sealed, and while I recall receiving letters from other members of my clan as a child I didn't have their homes committed to memory. No one did. Furthermore, I have done nothing but good deeds along the way. Surely my parents would look upon me with smiles for what I have chosen to do, even though I am not devoting all of my focus to bringing stability to our clan once more. I'm sure I'm just being foolish...but, should I ever grow doubtful of my character in the future, I will be able to look back on this and know that I need not spell it all out for myself twice.
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