Journal of a bard

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orangetree
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Re: Journal of a bard

Post by orangetree »

Today I think I beheld something that brought me some joy though I did not realise it at the time. I had found the old moon pool, where my grandmother had reisgned her final days towards. I blanked out where it was due to my sad memories of it... but here I was again. I could almost remember playing in grass or looking at bugs. I recall ants that I would follow to see where they went... nature was a mix of curious order and reigned in chaos. Perfect balance... a balance that I... felt was disrupted by the force of Death.

Balkr bore witness to the death of the high Druid of this moon pool. I think I knew her vaguely. Mags... i don’t remember much but... somone made cookies... was that her? I saw no recognition of me in her eyes as she had been corrupted. Neither could I spend any time with her, as release of the curse instantly killed her. If I could have only had five minutes with her... but... no. What selfishness I hold just to hear a an echo of the only family that cared for me. Her needs were for Balkr to know what he is being called to do.

I envy him in that. Nature... is connected with him. With all the others really. I never felt that connection though I long for it. I want to feel this spirit that everyone else seems to possess. Part of me though is not natural... it’s not even a monster, that which an orc could relate to. That part of me is a mistake that shouldn’t even be here... by definition a corruption. I am a corruption of nature and i loathe it. Though... maybe sometimes... I’m happy to be so different?

Maybe it’s just being here that reminds me, my life was not always dark. I didn’t have many friends exactly but I did enjoy being with people, talking and learning about things.. my music too brings me great pleasure. I just don’t feel connected to them... or anyone. It’s as if I stand on a stage and yet I wonder.. who is the audience?

I had my first experience with the stones. As expected I was rendered unconscious. Also as expected I felt pain.. what was unexpected was how the pain did not subside. It was constant and pounding inside me. I felt fear and- I have a lot of fears. This fear-box inside my head... how it must have delighted the stones to see what it could make me see. Lonliness? Betrayal? My friends roasting me at the stake? I was prepared for the worst it could give me... but it found something else... not of this world.

I was lost but not alone. I saw tieflings... like me but not like me. I was dead and this is where I go... this is where I belong... a desolate cold plane of nothing but pain and cruelty. Part of my existence isn’t human. In a way it makes sense. For a normal human good deeds empower their nature... makes them angelic. For evil humans the more evil commit so too will they gain an evil soul-form.

Take that thought and place a tiefling in it. Good deeds weaken their tainted soul... bad deeds make an evil soul even stronger. What I saw was all the other tieflings laughing at me. I was going to be their pet... their slave. The good deeds I tried to do only weakened me. No gods would hear me and I was to be theirs. They laughed at me... I wanted to get away...

Then I woke. A bad dream? Or a prophecy of things to be. I made arrangements to have my best works to silvsrmoon. I don’t now what will be. I should rest now.. will try to keep all the doors locked.
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orangetree
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Re: Journal of a bard

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I am .. not good with people.

I guess this was one of those things Aglaril forced me to examine about myself. Why is it when I try to keep my spirits up something or somone reminds me of why I should ‘know my place’. I never liked labels much. People are in constant flux, they never sing the same song but perhaps similar genres that they hold most dearly too. I’m no different in that I suppose.

Sometimes I wonder if my mother was right to hide me away. I survived sure but... I never lived. Now that I’m out there I seem to lack the skills I wish I had in talking to people. I’m comfortable singing to them but engaging in conversations I always find the wrong thing to say. I can’t blame my bad blood for that. People are just mysterious to me. Once I think I understand them something happens that makes me realise I don’t really know them. Are we all like that to eachother? Should I be like that ... I expose my heart too much.

So I met the halfling who had been of some help in recent events. Raddoc was his name, He’s pretty cute, though it would be highly inappropriate for me to say more then that. I often tried to keep an eye on him. The death of one of the small folk is... somehow instinctually unacceptable. Judge me a hypocrite if you must, I can’t understand my instincts on this. I know they are a capable race but... I don’t know. I don’t blame anyone to feel insulted by such sentiments, I am forced to remind myself they know what they are doing.

I wanted to show off a bit of my skills to him and see if he wanted any help improving his own. My resources and knowledge are very limited but I did know of the training dummies. It’s good practice and I showed various thrusts with Horatio’s well balanced sword. I used my arts and music to add a bit of poetry and flare to it... though I admit it pales in comparisons to the likes of true battle warriors I think I did rather well.

My new ‘friend’ wasn’t very impressed. He didn’t even care to try it, saying it was a waste of time. The target was not living for one. I was a bit crestfallen. I’ve been practicing on these dummies to try and get better because I didn’t have anyone help train me. I suppose Zova might when time permits but... these training sessions usually helped me.

Then he said I ‘hated everything I did.’

Halflings can be quite mean spirited I realised. There didn’t seem to be much one can say when such a label is thrown in your direction. My arts were looked down upon, and he mocked me when i stopped singing to compose myself- humming his own song while I try to respond. Urgh.. does that mean I hate trying to be friends with people? Does that mean he doesn’t like it when I try to talk to him? I try everything, does that mean I hate everything? Hate is such a strong word, I don’t want that feeling in my heart. The thing I do most is live... do I hate living? No I don’t. It’s just such an evil thing to say to someone! To think, I was trying to impress him. If he really believes that of me, what can I do except do nothing? Halflings are good with their words I’ll grant them that. Hmph.

Well that unpleasantness aside, I’m hopeful to have made up with Zova. I admit not having her around in our last escapade made me feel a bit more vulnerable.. but at the same time I wanted to rise above the challenge. I think we did well? I hope so.
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Re: Journal of a bard

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I’m feeling depressed today. Melancholy strikes me, darkness and... yes ‘insert poetic dramatic words here’. It’s been a while now since I have left the sanctuary of sune’s temple. My mother wanted me to write something to her. I sent her the usual: I made many friends, I was accepted and have been helping out...

I’m such a liar. I just didn’t want her to worry but writing that stuff made me realise Just how bad things are here. I left the temple with eagerness and hope that I could make something of myself. I guess I felt that maybe I could show not all with my blood wishes to hurt others. It all seemed so long ago that I was so idealistic. I’ve learned many bitter lessons, from everyone I have met. So much regret that I think I would feel relief when I die. Whatever lies beyond this world can’t be worse then my living hell. I’m constantly afraid of the wrong person finding out what I am, or the person I once trusted deciding to stab me in the back. My desire to aid is no more akin to a cockroach trying to lifts mountain. So, what lessons have i learned... what is the truth that goes in my head?

Toby: My lesson from him is... disappointment. People are not what they really are, and... he wasn’t what I thought he was. He is a Mage of great power but besides that... he just feels cold. His past is constsntly on my mind and I am sickened to have tried to defend him. Not that it matters now. With our circle now turned on it’s head. I was comfortable working through him as he seemed well connected. Now though? I don’t know. Maybe this says something bad about me too... did I only like him when he seemed so powerful? Now that I know he has no connections to work with... nothing that could protect me... am I so callous? No it’s more complicated then that. He trusted me... he must have liked me... or ... was I just used? Just another one...

Zova: I’m not sure what my lesson is from her. Perhaps regret. I regret much of how things ended up and still hope... things will be better. I fear her, and I fear those close to her. Is this real power? Perhaps I’m afraid because I know she is a juggernaut of thought. She will not be swayed and... part of me fears that. Is this the leader we need? Getting a compromise might be difficult compared to the likes of Toby. She is howerver.. begrudgingly an effective leader as of now. She has taken the time to hear my concerns. I’m trying my best to start fresh with her. Besides her being leader... I don’t in all honesty know much about her.

Layali: I learned that luck, fortune, and long term planing favours her. She doesn’t speak much but she doesn’t have to. Some people are just lucky that way. Not to say she hasn’t made effort in working out how her powers work but she made it look easy. I suspect being around Zova to help train her has done wonders.

Aglaril: I learned from him... I’ll never be a hero. I’ll have others think I was on a very very... very good day. Perhaps only as long as they don’t know what I am and that I could convince them of a tale of heroism of which I was part of. Though such a thing will only be temporary. I guess I learned from him that people will believe all kinds of things, temporarily most of the time until a mind is hardened to form an opinion. The opinions of who I am will last forever.

Horatio: I’m a bit unsure. He kept on telling me to shut up today when I wanted to take part in discussions. I guess he was tired of the topic. I was rather curious of things like the royal court being mentioned. I wonder if I could find a place in negotiating such ... oh who am I kidding! I have learned diplomacy but can I actually practice such? So yeah... what I learned from him is that a gift can go a long way to trust... but... there is a nagging doubt. Again, what if I am just being used?

Raddo: RIP. He was the first halfling adventurer that seemed so.. nice. I learned that halflings can be very nasty when you try to make friends with them. He taught me that life for me was going to be one depressing thing to the next. I will never find any joy and to even make a friend is an act of hate. I learned from him people will believe what they want. I will be cautious of the small folk in the future.

Belle: actually the first halfling I met. I guess I learned that she’s highly favoured. She’s got a shop and will protect her business first. I learned that this is a fact of life for me, that there will be some shops barred to me if I ever get too well known. Indeed some towns and countries will not have me. She delighted in calling me a silly woman, because that’s what powerful folk do when they hold all the cards. Somone please remind me why am I alive?

Holy child of the earthmother: I can’t exactly escape that i have encountered such a being. Both in reality and in my dreams. Am I blessed? Hardly ... I believe I now understand and the signs are not good. When I first encountered the child it was.. dispondent. Uninterested, despite my attempts at jiggling keys or whatever song I could come up with for it. What I learned here was that there are different kinds of ‘worthiness’.

In my dream the child spoke of my ‘destiny.’ I... became hopeful but now I realise the cruel truth. When I put it all together my purpose is to simply be a reminder of what unworthiness is. I’m the poisoned apple to contrast and show not everyone can have it..

I make others special... by showing I- and many like me, never can be. I offend the gods with my birth... it’s like the more civil version of the slave economy the Thayans use. Slavery exists there to remind others you can become a slave... I’m here to remind others of damnation that they will strive and work extra hard for their gods.

I’m... honestly ready to die now. I have no place in this world no.. joy, nothing. Not a friend, not even hope that my life could mean anything. If I died in the defence of nature would the gods grant some small mercy. I don’t want to go to... that place I saw. All those tieflings laughing at me like they had just found a new... pet. Though what if by wishing such things I am condemning myself? I honestly have nowhere to go in either this life or the next ... nobody I could trust to confide in, just my fears growing more and more.

Gods I’m a good person! Somone please... believe me.. somone..
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orangetree
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Re: Journal of a bard

Post by orangetree »

A quick sketch I tried to make of Cam finding herself in a world of other tieflings all laughing at her...

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Re: Journal of a bard

Post by orangetree »

I will be judged harshly for my thoughts., though no matter.

It would appear that Toby has died. I attended a funeral and attempted to order my thoughts. I was still in a state of numbness as I attempted to decide what I would do next. There wasn’t much to do, gods know my ripples on the pond of reality are mere pebbles compared to the vast ships and swirling energies of godly proportions. Indeed Toby was one of these small gods and the one that was most human.

He has found a way to return though now as a half orc.

A monster.

I suppose it’s because I was raised in a temple of sune that I harbour these thoughts. I could try to look for his inner beauty but given this mans actions in the past is that an improvement? My family would suggest the truth of his soul has been laid bare... indeed they consider the same of me. The irony is that I can pass as human most of the time. Being what I am doesn’t occupy a trip to the bakers for the most part.

I don’t know how to react to this. I’m still just feeling numb. I don’t want it to be Toby. I don’t like that they call him that and it depresses me to no end considering what he has become. There is little justice in the world. Why didn’t he stay dead ... was the afterlife that bad? Who would honestly want to be in this world and in a form that causes everyone to hate you?

He barely speaks to me anyway just spending time at the dancing hall to look at those pretty girls. Not that I care. Yes he did bring me here but I’m starting to wonder on his motives.

I had tea with Zova. Awkaward. I wanted to be angry about what happened to Toby. I wanted to ask her why she wasn’t there? Why did her lover let that happen! How could they be so incompetent- but the honest truth is all of that... all of that blame I could put squarely on myself. I wasn’t there... could I have made a difference? If I was there I would have insisted Layali do the traps... and she might have died if my words were heard.

That’s a lot of ifs. It’s... not really good to consider such a scenario. I suspect the same thing would have happened. Toby would never have listened to me let alone talk to me even when he was human.

For me, Toby is dead. I mourn him in secret as the man who gave me some hope in my life. This brute took his name and memories and I’m to treat him as if he was the real Toby. That’s fine. I can easily do that. I just don’t want to be alone with him for fear of that orc’s savage side killing me.

I wonder what it’s like to be feared... maybe on some level it’s actuslly quite nice.

I’m going to get to work on my next project now. Not too sure what that will be but idle hands need to do
something. Maybe I could try writing a story. One in which... I’m the hero? Well- Elminster did so. Admitidly his is a factual account and I’ll have to... stretch the truth more then a bit. However if I could write such an epic tale ... why not? All my life I have read stories and they all turned out to be lies. Why not add another lie... my own lie.

That’s why stories exist. Just little lies we fell to eachother to make us feel bigger then we are. I can’t compare to a story as none of them bare resemblance to reality. I will focus on what I can do and just let stories be stories. Those touched by the gods can perhaps be more then that.. but at that point they are not in the same reality as me.

Zova, Layali, Aglaril, Toby, Horatio, Belle... they look mortal. They are most certainly not... they are not part of my reality or the reality of most in this world. I must not relate myself to them. I saw them as potential gods for a reason... I think.. they may well be some form of demi god if not actual gods.

I can’t relate to them...

They can’t relate to me or my struggles each and every day.
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