The Daily Dragon: Journals

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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Mon Jan 20, 2014 7:50 am

Ryan is sitting in an old wooden chair in front of an old wooden desk, the single candle flickering dimly as it was reaching the end of it's life. The hour was late, and Ryan was hunched over the desk, quietly scribbling onto a piece of parchment with a quill. Next to the desk was a small bed, and the young master Taylor was sitting on it, his head lowered and his hands nervously running up and down his legs. Slowly, Ryan dipped the quill into the inkwell, and tapped it gently on the side to remove the excess.
"What else?" Ryan asked sternly, his eyes never leaving the desk. Taylor sighed loudly and clasped his hands together.
"A silver pendant in the shape of an eagle, Master Ryan. I stole it off of a drunk noble while he was passed out on a table." he replied meekly, his head still lowered. "And that is the last item, I swear to you it is!" he dared to look up a little and lift his eyebrows at his employer. Ryan tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes at the boy, who immediately lowered his head and slouched down even more. Ryan returned his gaze to the parchment, picked up his quill and continued to quietly scribble. When he had finished, he laid his quill down to the side and picked up the paper, holding it closer to the candle so he could read.
"This is quite a long list young master Taylor. I am surprised you have not lost a hand or more yet." Ryan said in a gruff voice, but with a hint of concern. "What do you suppose would happen if you were to stand before one of the lords, and they were presented with this list?" he asked his young ward. Taylor cleared his throat and looked at his hands.
"I suppose they--" he started but was interrupted by Ryan jumping out of his chair and slapping him across the face. "Look at me when you talk to me!" he yelled at the boy. Taylor gulped but managed to look up at his master with eyes on the point of tears, his mouth agape but the words unable to come out. Ryan stared down at Taylor, his eyes blazing. He raised a hand again, and moved to strike the boy but stopped before hitting him. Taylor never flinched. Ryan slowly lowered his hand and placed it back to his side. He sat back down on the chair, and rested an elbow on the desk while he propped up head and rubbed his temples.
"Taylor, you will be punished for your crimes, but not by my hand. All wrongs will be righted in their own time. It might not be right away, it might take years to happen, but all evil is returned with evil." he said quietly in a husky voice. Taylor fidgeted on the bed at bit, but he kept his head up and managed to fight back the tears as he listened to his master.
"You see Taylor, we all have the right to life, but it is a privilege to live." Ryan scoots his chair closer and turns it to face the boy. He leans down to his eye level, bracing himself with his elbows on his knees, and folds his hands. "Others may have a more privileged life than ours, but that does not mean we should envy them. A good life earned by honesty is more rewarding than a good life earned by chance. I know your past, young master Taylor. I know you needed to steal to survive, and whatever you stole for survival is your right to life. Stealing anything more than that however, is not only a crime against others but also a crime against yourself." Taylor frowned at the last comment, and tilted his head a bit as he took in what Ryan was telling him.
"It is a crime against yourself, because all evil is returned with evil. By taking what you do own or need, ultimately you are adding to your own misery. Whatever wrongs you do, you will in turn be wronged. Not always by the same person, not always in the same manner, but it will happen to you." Ryan sits up in his seat and places his hands on his knees. "This works the other way as well. When you are wronged, that person too will get his just rewards." Ryan turns in his seat and looks to the piece of paper. He picks it up, and holds it to the flame of the candle. Within moments it is ablaze, and he sets it on a copper plate, letting the fire consume it. "That is all in the past now. All of your crimes will catch up to you eventually, nothing can change that now. What can change, however, is how you will accept your fate. A life of honesty starts by being honest with yourself, for if you cannot even be honest, you cannot possibly be honest with others. Now, think about what I have told you, and meditate on it while we pray." Taylor nodded his head respectfully and they both knelt down on the ground. Ryan produced another candle from inside the desk, and set it on the ground between them. As they both closed their eyes and lowered their heads, the candle lit itself and set forth ominous green rays of light.
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Mon Jan 20, 2014 7:11 pm

There were letters written, to be carried by her own courier. (IPS same day delivery.) Each a no-nonsense bit of information gleaned from her little talk with her friend at the docks. There'd been an afternoon spent sorting out what made sense to write, to communicate to them, and what seemed extraneous. By the end of the day she had a script ready and a couple copies addressed to some of her associates. Camilla, Ryan, Throm, Samuel.. Some more 'friend' than others but each needing to know. ((Poke me for the info.))
Then.. what? Then what. She needed perspective and better ideas, something she somehow could not find. Leaving the Hin to aimlessly wander back home, where upon arriving she drew a bath. Huge stone basin full of hot water and scented oil all to herself. Slowly easing into the tension bleeding out of her back and letting her mind wander. Waiting to hear the little footsteps or wing flaps that would mean her Imp's task was done.
The Hin wondered about that a moment, she wanted the Imp back here and carrying another of those odd bottles. Her brow furrows a moment considering the whys of it. Was it her own urge, the missing the gentle smoothing over wine granted her? Or something a bit mo- Her thought was interruped rather abruptly by the clunk of glass on stone beside her, and a high pitched voice in servile tone. "Back, mistress."
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Tue Jan 21, 2014 8:26 am

She started into the room, making a wide sweep of her hands. " As you can see there is plenty of space for all the things I talked about. However, I really think there is room enough for more then just my stuff."

Lyanna looked around the wide open space, and then noted where counters were in the process of being built. " Well, you didn't bring me here to just show me this empty space." The woman, who was still so nearly youthful in her own right looked on at her new made elven daughter. " I don't need space that is for sure."

" I know you don't. You have the resteraunt." She turned towards her mother, " Actually, I was thinking if your green-skinned lo-"

"Watch what you say." Lyanna was amediantly defensive of the situation. " I don't go around talking out your pointy-earred husband like that. He's your friend and you introduced him to me."

" Well, that is true. I didn't think you'd." Putting up her hands, " Let me try again. I thought Krunk could use the back area to showcase some of his clothing. I could let him sell it out of here. His shop in the South ward, gets no buisness." She watched her mothers face, hold in that same cold stare. Then it softened.

" You mean you would let him sell some things out of here?"

" Yes, but he's got to let me have discounts and get my clothes tailored for free." Ziandra replied, and her mother looked like she was thinking it over. "Well?"

" I will talk to him. I'm heading over there right now." For a long time, she just stood there and looked around. " You know I really like him, alot."

" Okay," She knew where this was going. " I don't need the details. I just need you to talk to him."

" I am. I will, but don't shortchange my feelings. It's rude. " Turning and heading out the door. Leaving Ziandra alone to think about the complex situations that were growing between her mother and her half-orc tailor.
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Mon Jan 27, 2014 8:14 am

Loth'Gar Entry Part 3

Today was a day like any other. Early morning rise, chores, prayer, chores.... now it was time to stop for the midday meal. While some may have called the whole affair 'boring', the young half orc Loth'Gar decided he rather enjoyed the change of pace. At least he hadn't needed to run in a long time. That made a change.

With a smile at the young acolyte, Rubin, he stood and made his way to the back of the modest temple. Here was a small kitchen with a modest pantry and a few barrels and crates of foodstuffs, all donated of course, since the temple had precious little in the way of funding. Sighing loudly, Rubin finished straightening the sheets of the bed one of many that lined the eastern wall. While the temple was always open to the needy, the supply of bedding tended to foul quickly and regular washing and changing was the norm. His face wincing as he stretched his aching back, the young acolyte moved towards where the young half-orc was cutting thick chunks from a wheel of rindy cheese. The two younger members of the temple were now fast friends. It hadn't taken long. Not only was Rubin a friendly, honest and hardworking young man, but the vast age gap between the master of the temple and Rubin meant that he and Loth'Gar naturally graduated to spending time together. That is, when the gentle but persuasive master wasn't seeing this chore or another completed.

Handing over a plate of thick bread, cheese and a handful of small tomatoes, the two took a seat on the shiny, polished dirt floor of the temple. With faces full of food, conversation was initially a slow thing, but before long the two had begun the usual banter and gossip that often accompanied meals in the house of Ilmater. Such it was, when every other soul that faded though the place had some tale to tell, whether it be full of joy or woe. Enjoying each others company and the rest from work, they passed the time. Eventually, as if want to happen, the conversation lulled to a silence, though a comfortable one. With no real forewarning, Rubin turned to Loth'Gar and asked "I know you've only been here a few months my friend, but have you decided whether you to will tread the path to priesthood?" The question caught the other of guards, and he stammered a hasty reply "I, I guess I haven't really thought about what I'll do." He paused in a moment of sombre thought. "I have no-where else to go. All my friends are either fled, hiding or...gone." that word hung between them a moment. Standing again, he let out the big grin that seemed to be a permanent fixture nowadays. "That life is behind me now though. I have all the future to think about, though I feel that I may just let it roll by. All decisions can be made tomorrow, or the next day." Rubin stood and gave his taller, though thinner friend a pat on the back. "I don't know what you have lost, though I feel there is great pain in your soul. But whatever was, we are both happy to have you here and with us." He let out a sudden laugh that caught them both a bit of guard. "And I for one am glad that I don't have to do the chores alone anymore!" With a playful shove, Rubin took off, Loth'Gar laughing and running after him like some child in a game of guards and thief. Well, in reality they were still children, though fast approaching the day they would take up the mantle of manhood.

As they pelted around in circles, alternating who led and who followed, they barely registered the wooden double doors at the front of the temple swing open. A rough throat being cleared froze them like statues. Excuses bubbled to the fore as children are oft to do when caught neglecting their duty. Turning, two mouths opened at once, but shut just as quick. A great tall bear of a man filled the door, followed by a ratty looking fellow and a shorter squat man. Faces of innocent guile changed quickly to ones of recognition and joy. The two acolytes ran to greet 'The Crew' as they were affectionately know. While their appearance had the well-to-do crossing the street, anyone who knew the pair soon discovered that beneath the rough exterior lay hearts of gold. Unofficially the temples 'guards', The Crew were in fact much like Loth. Reformed criminals, though the ratty one used to be an adventurer and the solid one did a stint as a guard. Exchanging greetings and salutations, the acolytes were quickly warned that if the master returned and caught them racing around like a pair of mad things, he may not have the same sense of humour. Helping themselves to a few odds and ends from the pantry, the three shared the latest news and gossip from the city. Things were not going well. Mercenaries with heavy handed tactics were roaming the city. No one was quite sure who they worked for. Nobles, merchants, wizards, some powerful gang or guild? The streets were rife with speculation. After getting some food and sharing the news, they departed, leaving stern warnings that there were still beds to be made and a floor to sweep. The master would be back before long and work still needed doing.

Waving as they left the young acolytes share a look and a sigh. Good honest work. Keeps you humble. That's that the master would say. But they wanted to play, explore, be out in the sun. "Never mind" Loth thought to himself "could be worse. Could be how it was before..."
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Mon Jan 27, 2014 8:15 am

The Hin had suffered through one of 'those' days. Incidents at the house of a noble for one thing, watching Howard leave in shock and having had to curse someone to save them. Not exactly standard fare, is it? She'd watched the knife drawn across the man's face over and over, a brief crimson gash and a gasping suck of air before foul perverse 'healing' tried to kill him again. Sera was not going to get those images out of her head any time soon.

Then had been the woman. The Hin was doing her suffering from her room in the bath house and on the desk by her favorite chair was a scroll case, and inside it a small fortune to most of the city. Some of the most expesive ink and parchment you could hope to see. She ran her finger along it gently, careful not to wrinkle the thing. The woman had paid top coin apparently, so assuredly she could pay more when the act was done?

Gods, she'd better be able to. Sera took a quick drink of that strange concoction Auntie kept providing her with and leaned back in her seat. Bottle rested in the crook of her arm, hands over her belly. A brief heartbeat of a moment later she went a touch pale, looking down at herself. Fingers probing experimentally at soft yieding belly flesh. Had she felt something move..?
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Mon Jan 27, 2014 8:02 pm

She must have been in there for longer then she thought. The dry dust and bits of wood shavings coated her in a sprinkling, like fresh snowflakes. Breathing in the scent of the freshly made table, it was enthralling her senses. With a soft touch, like that of a lover her fingers traced down along the length of the table top. It was a smooth and fluid, her work was improving every day she put effort into it.

Stepping back she wondered on not only its beauty but the strength. Turning her back to it, she hopped up on it. Sitting and rocking her legs, like a child. From this place, she was reminded of her previous height. Looking around the nearly complete space, it made her smile with a bit of pride.

Something flickered in the corner, and she went a bit rigid. Fearful of what could be lurking in the shadows. Had she not brought in enough lanterns to make it as bright as daylight inside. Slowly she looked towards the change. It was a moth running into the lantern, over and over. Somehow that was bothering her more and more.

Jumping from the table, she quickly went to aid the moth. Catching it in cupped hands, it still struggled more so in the darkness of her hands. Quickly, she let it out the door. Then she stood there between the intermingling of the warmth on her back and the chill in her face. The moth had gotten to her, it was her. Struggling to move to the light, while the darkness closes around her. Threatening to smother out her efforts at times. Even when she’s free, she’ll repeat the same thing.

Shaking her head, she dislodged the thoughts beating against the walls of her mind. There was nothing she could do about it right now. He’d planted that seed in her, again and against her will. It was growing like the darkness around her.

She blinked, once then twice. Trying to refocus on the light, it seemed to be just slipping away.
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Tue Jan 28, 2014 9:42 am

Enialas sat at his Alchemy lab examining the remains of the tea. There was nothing out of the ordinary regarding the tea whatsoever. Fortunately however the cup that held the tea had also been in the items brought to the Wizard for analysis. On the inside finger hole of the cup he found what he was looking for an enchanted paste that had been smeared along the finger hole so that the only one that would be infected was the person that picked up the cup to drink it. He had admit it was a clever delivery system likely to only strike the intended target in this case the nobleman known as Tiberius Gundwynd.

Whomever, was behind these attacks was undoubtedly brilliant in a rather horrific way. Assuming the two incidents were related which he had no reason to suspect that they were not it represented a very special kind of practical ruthlessness. In one attack to probably kill nearly two dozen people to provide a distraction to succeed in the murder of single person. Then on the second attack to act in such a precise and insidious manner likely to kill only the selected target was remarkable.

Enialas had examined the powder which was actually designed to be a coagulant something that caused blood to clot so that scar tissue could form over the tissue so that it could be prepared. Then it had been infused with some kind of powerful abjuration, which essentially supercharged the powder to accelerate healing. The only way that anyone would be able to be saved from the effects would have been a powerful dispel magic or to cut the infected person off entirely from the effects of positive energy magic. Which is of course precisely what Sera had done successfully.

Enialas continued to take notes as he speculated on the person behind this, clearly they were striking out against both House Gundwynd and House Sultlue or at least at specific members of those houses. The question was why? Enialas suspected that the answer to that question would lead to the who was behind all this. Clearly it was a powerful arcanist, most likely a Wizard given the reasoned and scholarly approach to these attacks. It frightened the self proclaimed white hat Necromancer more than a little just how much he could identify with whomever was behind this or at least with their thought processes. He would encourage both Howard and the others to persue this investigation with all their efforts and provide what support he could.
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Sun Feb 02, 2014 1:56 pm

She sat back in the shop, her chair no more then the surface of the table. It was dark inside but even with the single light of the lantern. It was in the silence of the space that she let her mind wander. It was hard to change old habits, there was no sleeping anymore. Just a trance like sleep, that occupied such a small part of her day. So that is what she was trying to do, meditate.

There was footsteps that broke into her quiet place. Looking up, she spoke up, “ We aren’t open. Go on next door to the actual shop.”

“ I will do no such thing. I have no interest in seeing that elf.” A voice spoke through the darkness, and with it a figure filled the doorway. She was the only being alive to reconise the person there. “ You can’t hide from me.”

“ Val?” She slipped down from the table and walked towards the doorway. “ It’s been awhile. Have you been well?” It was so nice to see him, but he easily towered over her and made her have to look up. “ I’m surprised that you came to see me again.”

“ I go where I please.” He walked into the place, a handsome man with unnaturally attractive features. Eyes that were so blue and piercing that you have trouble keeping a stare with them. “ I came to see you, and your wearing a new skin as well. “ He started to walk around her like a shark circling his prey.

“ Yes, I told you I was planning to do this.” She replied allowing him to look her over, “ You look well. How is the mate, good? Little broodlings yet?”

“ I will bring them by to show you, if you want the town destroyed for your foolish remarks.”

“ No, I’m good on that.” She sighed and looked to him, “ Can you at least be kind for once. You came here for a reason. What is it?”

“ You’re my familiar. I wanted to see that you are doing well. Soon, I will call on you again. The last time, you protected me. You cared for me, that I will replay so I can rid of attatchments. So, this is what I bring.” He took her hand and placed a small shiny black stone like thing that hung from a silver chain, into her hand. “ I forged this from my flesh. Wear it. “

“Um, I will.” She went to put it on, but he stopped her and put it on for her. When it touched her skin, it felt very warm. As if, it harbored the flame of his dragon breath still in it. “ Thank you.”

“ Don’t thank me just yet. Do not ever remove this. If I sense that it is gone from your body. I will come, and when I do. You will not be able to ask for mercy for those that have this.” With that he walked out of the shop. Sucking out of the light with him

The necklace felt warmer now.
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Sun Feb 02, 2014 8:40 pm

“We found them this way,” announced the guardsman, indicating the slumped over bodies with a hand that had waved at bodies before. He stood short of the scene, heels to the lumpy pool of spilt innards. “Single slice each across the lower abdomen.”

“How long ago?” asked his sergeant Tanyer, a man boldly curious. He stepped past the soldier and crouched by the pair of bodies, muddied boots into the bloodbath without a flinch. He pulled a glove off and delicately examined a deceased’s pupils.

“We found them an hour ago, patrol before that was three hours previous.”

The sergeant bit his lip, then dropped his ungloved hand to the fatal wound. Concern furrowed his brow. He flinched after a moment of silent prodding, then withdrew a metallic object from the incision.

“Something interesting, sir?” asked the guardsman, who could not see from his distance at the bloody pool’s extent.

“No,” was the stern response as the fellow rose. Tanyer quietly pocketed the piece, turned to his subordinate, and casually made for the alley’s exit. “The bodies have been dead for a day at the least, strangled or drowned.”

“The cuts, sir?”

“Deceptive ploy. Murderer took these beggars from the docks, by their smell. Little resistance: they knew the killer. I suspect it will not occur again, but dress some of your unshaven men in beggar’s gear tonight and see who offers shelter.”

An hour later, Tanyer upended the pouch onto his desk. A metallic blade, shaped to extend from a man’s fist like a sickle, fell onto his desk in a halo of dry red flakes. He wiped away at the carnage on its handle, immediately puzzled by the brand the assassin’s weapon displayed. It was a buckler, embossed with the letter B: a brand he had not seen in years.

Who would be trying to frame the already-imprisoned weaponsmith or his ruined son, Selwyn Bittern?
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Mon Feb 03, 2014 7:45 am

It was a bitterly cold day, the wind whipping the leaves through the streets, much to the consternation of dutiful housewives who found their stoops once again mounded with the litter. Few folk were out in the veritable gale, the biting deep of winter. One half-orc was to not be deterred. With strides both more confident and more sombre than one his age should make, he headed sown to the waters edge and the cities docks, such as they were this time of year.

A few of the scant passer-by's waved or shouted greetings as they hurried on their own pressing business. The young street kid turned priest in training was a regular sight in these parts and most folk knew and respected him enough to make an effort at pleasantries. After all, who knows when they may need the services of clergy who work not for gold but for the common people?

A handful of guards, private militia or mercenaries by their colours, huddles around a guttering brazier in a small throw-back. A hopeless effort to avoid the biting wind, they stomped and carefully fed small faggots of wood into the weak and struggling flames. As he passed they barely looked up. My how things have changed thought the young acolyte. But a few seasons back he would likely be leading these men on a merry chase through the back alleys of the city. On reflection, they may have secretly appreciated the chase, if for nothing than to burn that winter energy and warm their numbed limbs. But things were different now, very different. Instead of the raggedy leggings colourer headband, he now wore a clean white smock, pressed and neat. With only a gentle yellow border, the thing was plain but practical, as well as being more than enough to mark him as off limits to jumpy guards.

A chill wind helped return his focus to the present. Another little trick of the vestments he wore was a minor enchantment that made them hard-wearing and somewhat resistant to the elements. Somewhat. Extending his pace, from both cold and now excitement as he neared his destination, the half-orc rounded a corner, trotted another thirty feet and paused in his track. Ah, magnificent.

In front of him, safely berthed in the deep harbour, lay ships too numerous and diverse to count. Exotic trade vessels from down south, smaller ships from more local waters, huge to small fishing boats, pleasure craft, war-ships, a couple of shady looking ships... possibly pirate or privateer. They were all there. He jogged the few more paces until he stood at the railing, looking out. He no longer felt the wind biting his toes and fingers. He simply gazed at the display before him. wood, timber and canvas. Amazing vehicles. He made up his mind then and there. One day he to was going to build a vessel like that. One day he would look out not in awe at the skills of others, but with pride in his own work.

A few passing ladies looked at the young priest and giggled amongst themselves. So rapt was the young man he barely seemed to mind the bitter wind. The hurried on their way, eager for a fire and less malodorous surrounds. How long the acolyte stood there is anyone's guess, but when he finally did leave his gait was stiff and fingers a slight blue on the tips. But that was nothing compared to the fire that burned in his eyes.
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Mon Feb 03, 2014 10:51 am

She had everything except nausea to deal with, that one was conspicuously absent. The Hin ached all along her back, and her shoulders, and her chest. Grumpily trying to find a way to rest or levitate that didn't result in something becoming sore a few minutes later. This had not been a battle she was seeing as likely to result in victory however. Causing a loud curse or two in the Hin tongue to reverberate through the bath house in the early morning. Then little woman's footsteps were heard awkwardly stomping through the doorway. A gruff "come on already" to the half-elf carrying a blanket wrapped bundle of.. well who knows really, stumbling along behind her.

There were brief stops on the way. She had to deflect a few questions passing the market (you look tired dear) while struggling to remain polite about it (do you need your clothes altered..?) and fielding comments from her fiendish sherpa as well (Oh come on, get the stretchy ballon dress!) finally coming to a head when she stopped by Mrs. Lovett's to order something.

Ahl-Zarde: Are you entirely sure you don't want two? Maybe the one with the bacon all over it?

Sera: You're pushing it.

Ahl-Zarde: No the pushing comes later, still a couple months off.

Sera: If you quip again I swear I'm going to eat you next.

An exaggerated lock and key motion over his lips is punctuated by a quick smack to the shin before the pair of them head off for the gardens. Perhaps she just need a change of scenery? Or just wanted to suffer somewhere pretty.
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Mon Feb 03, 2014 9:11 pm

She was running, her feet leaving no impression as she leapt from rock to rock and continued on with her bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. Her feet were silent and the rocks told no tales, not like the softer mud that’d betray her passage. It meant though that come the river, she’d have to either keep on going and use her speed and momentum to send her across the water or find another way across. As usual her eyes were ahead of her, scanning the land before she needed to put her foot down, a change in momentum here and a well-placed foot put her higher than the river itself in full flow now. It was at risk of bursting the bank this side, the ground already sodden and damp. Another reason for not using the normal route to complete her run, but no one would know anyhow, no one would come to find her to speak to her and things were resuming the pattern that she liked. Waking from her reverie and resting, feeling the winter light on her before she rose from her nest in the branches and got herself something to drink. Then she would be on her way, dousing the fire and covering it carefully so it wouldn’t smoke, so it couldn’t tell any tales.


Lost among the branches she wouldn’t be seen, slowing her pace as she made her way along them on soft boots that flexed and gripped, her feet agile on the bark and that was too high for anyone to come looking for her either. She was completely alone out here, no one would find her, see her or know she was around. Racing the wind she called it, racing as fast as she could for the sake of it and using the natural world around her to improve her agility and mobility. Her body would twist mid leap, her arms ready to snatch a vine from nowhere to break her fall, or hooking her leg just right to turn on a coin, or rappelling down the trunk of a tree face first to find her way long something else. There was the river ahead of her, she could see the track of silver amidst the grey and brown of the winter forest, she leapt once more and found the thrill of nothing below her or around her, then just at the last moment, tucking her arms in and rolling as she landed, going with the momentum while she did it to bring her upright.

Then she was on the run once more.
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Mon Feb 03, 2014 10:18 pm

He still had trouble looking at the dagger. And it was his favorite one.

Oh, the pearl-handled cold iron pair of blades were beautiful things, and gifts of a noble house as well. The blade with orcish runes on it held more significance. His sacrificial blade still hadn't seen blood.

But that was his only magical blade, and the one he'd come to rely on for more than a half-score of years. Now, every time he looked at it, he saw the blood of an innocent man on it.

The worst part of it was that he felt like he wouldn't hesitate to do the same thing again - and this time, he might not need to get beaten half to death and drink himself most of the rest of the way.

Neither of his newly-acquired sisters thought it should ever come to that. And he heartily agreed...but just wasn't sure if it was ever going to be possible.
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Sat Feb 08, 2014 11:24 am

Aulric sat at his desk in his room, yawning, he stretched his arms above his head, looking at his familiar laying on the pillow like she owned it. “Come on Sarafina must you always take the pillow?” The weasel looked up sleepily from the pillow on the bed at the Half-elf, (spoken in animal tongue of whatever weasels speak in) “You want to stare at the notes from the burnt-up professor, go right ahead. I’m telling you one thing young one, that going to Wyllowoods alone is suicide!” The weasel stared at the half-elf for good measure before resting her head back down on the pillow. Frowning at the weasel, “Staring at me all Mother like isn't going to stop me Sara, and you know that. I thought when I picked you as my familiar, you’d help me out? Instead I’m starting to believe that you’re acting like my Mother and telling on me when I do something a little adventurous.” Looking back at the notes, Aulric shuffled them back in order, then with a look of alarm, “ Sarafina what did you mean alone in the Wyllowoods? You’re coming with me right??” Peeking one eye open at Aulric,” Not when you are going to do something that will kill you. I might be bonded to you, but it doesn't mean that I’m jumping off a cliff with you because you have some unexplained notion that you need to explore the woods some more. It’s that druidess, isn't it? That female will kill you before you are able to attract her attention! Now let me sleep, because who knows what I’m up to in the morning to protect your stubborn ass from.”
Shaking his head, Aulric took the light globe off the desk and put it carefully away in one of his pouches. Slowly working his way to the bed, dodging the sleeping giant of his dog laying at the side of the bed on the floor, Aulric managed to get in his bed finally. Resting his head on the pillow besides Sarafina’s curled up body, Aulric slowly drifted off to sleep, thinking about the forest in Undermountain and of a certain guardian of that forest too.
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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Re: The Daily Dragon: Journals

Postby Seekerthefallen » Sat Feb 08, 2014 10:12 pm

Loth'Gar Journal Entry 5: Life Lessons to Hold you in Good Stead

It had been a year now, though it seemed to Loth'Gar to be no more than a couple of weeks. How time flies when your amongst friends. Rubin, the Master, the three guards… you know, come to think of it he still didn't know their names. Their real names at least. He'd given them nick-names… Ratty, rock and bear. Each a fitting tribute to the personality and physical attributes of its owner. He had asked about the lack of names once. The Master had answered with the following "He who does not have a name recognises that his own needs, the needs of the self are secondary to the needs of others. It reminds us to be humble in all things and that we are but servants to a much greater power." As the gentle and wise man explained this in his soft voice, Loth'Gar tried to understand. But he was still young and a big part of him still sought for the self. The Master had never condemned the wealthy or powerful. Indeed he had explained that great aspirations and dreams were a privilege set down by the gods. When Loth'Gar had asked why they were not rich or powerful he had gotten a knowing but kind chuckle. "We may be seen as poor and weak, but by being these things we are more powerful and free than those souls tied to possessions. By being selfless and helping those less fortunate, we are rich, but rich in the soul. At the end of life this is all that matters. We will transcend and find paradise, while those overburdened by a dark soul and hoarded wealth will struggle to rise as high as we do."

That was just one example of the speeches or short lessons that Loth'Gar and Rubin learnt. As well as imparting the wisdom and lessons a life of service to Ilmater had taught the Master, there were also more mundane and, dare he say it, boring things an acolyte needed to know. Chief amongst these were house-keeping and cooking. Both these things were straight forward and on the young acolytes 'boring' list. But despite this a large portion of the day was spent preparing food to feed the hoards outside the temple and cleaning and making beds for those who would be seeking shelter from the bitter cold over night. While they loved to fool around and play as most younglings their age, the two appreciated the gravity of the tasks and the implications should they fail to perform these menial duties. Both had been street children, bought under the wing of the temple and Ilmater. Both knew the desperate struggle for something as simple as food and shelter. So they worked diligently, complained little and tried to make the most of these daily tasks.

Perhaps more intriguing was the religious teachings and studies that the Master hosted for two hours every day without fail. Indeed, should he be late it was a sure sign that something dire had occurred, be it an outbreak of plague, the undead or other pressing matters that only a high priest in their power and wisdom could solve. Fortunately these occurrences were rare enough. So around supper time, having fed the masses and taken in those seeking refuge, they three retired to the corner opposite the small kitchen and arranged themselves on the floor for the lesson. They had studies a number of things, ranging from mundane healing to the edicts of Ilmater. Both had come to a great love and respect of the crying god. That an immortal would humble himself with the concerns of all, no matter their walk or circumstances was something to be venerated. Loth'Gar silently vowed that he would dedicate his life to upholding the teachings of the Crying God. Selflessness, defence of the weak, punishment of the wicked and remembering ones roots. History held a special meaning for him. It was where he came from, what had defined and shaped him. That he thought was something to cherish and ever keep in ones thoughts.

As well as the official teachings of the Master, Rubin and Loth'Gar shared one more set of tutors that they kept to themselves. Bear, Ratty and Rock had all become fast friends with the young priests, perhaps recognising something of themselves in the younglings. While the master preached the overthrow of the wicked, the tyrannical and the unjust, he never went so far as to explain exactly how to achieve these ends or even to suggest an appropriate course of action. Of course the pair had asked, but the reply was always the same. "When you see injustice you will know it. When the wicked walk amongst you, you will see it. When the tyrants rule the lands you will feel it. Ilmater does not stand for these things and we will not stand for them. You must always follow your heart and the whispers in your soul. When the time comes you will know what to do. Be ever mindful of your actions and remember that even a small ripple disturb the pond." Rubin and Loth'Gar often debated for many hours over this subject. How would they know? What would they do? Fortunately, thanks to the temples three guardians, they would at least have the skills when the time came for them to oppose the wicked. Ratty taught them the art of stealth and burglary, showing them how to remain unseen, walk unheard and deal with locks and traps that may impede their progress. Rock taught them how to wield a weapon. At first sticks, then proper wooden training swords and finally the real thing, though blnted to prevent any accidents. "A good thing that we have a capable priest nearby!" He laughed, though looked somewhat nervous should the Master find him teaching the acolytes sword play. Finally Bear taught them the art of speech, manners and a subtle, diplomatic tongue. "Never be afraid to speak your mind, but remember that often the gentler word is mightier than the sword." Bear spoke with great levity and made sure that they understood this lesson, for violence for violence sake was the way of the wicked, not those who dedicated their lives to doing good.

And so it was that time passed and Rubin and Loth'Gar learnt the lessons of the faith. The importance of everyday mundane tasks. The teachings of their faith and lessons of wisdom the Master imparted. The life skills that Ratty, Rock and Bear imparted on the pair. Despite this they still had a long way to go…
"Even if you silence me, My silence will still defy you"-Me

"It's not Lying...It's Neglecting the important parts"-Me

"I'm Not stealing.. I'm borrowing with the intention of not returning."-Me
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