Skulls: The journal Of Brenna Skallington

[ravin]

Skulls : The Journal Of Brenna Skallington

As I sit here in the lab the empty sockets of a three hundred year old skull starting at me I feel …comfortable. I know this. Each joint and suture, every striation and scrape tells a story of how this person lived. Before me a life unfolds. Human, Male, about six foot three . The bone markers show early childhood break in the left femur likely causing a mild limp. Marks of late-life inflammation in hip, knee and spine joints tell of an active life even in later years. There are cuts in the bone of the radius and ulna of the left arm, long healed, defensive wounds… a warrior. This was a man who did not give up. A giant among his tribe, perhaps…that’s just conjecture. He bears all of the bone markers of a tribal leader. Cause of death was natural; decalcification in the bones due to advanced life age is evident. He must have been venerated by his people…conjecture again…I need to stop talking to Mari. Her fanciful whims are beginning to infect my empirical judgment. The bone markers on the skull place this male as one of the Northern Uthgardt tribesmen--the pronounced brow and zygomatic arch are indicators of the region. His burial chamber recently uncovered in the mountains also housed tribal burial artifacts that are being authenticated by other scholars here at the university. Was he a hero? He didn’t die in a war clearly. He was buried with respect by those who cared for him. And now, I can give him a face again and tell his story at least in some part so that he can be remembered.



B.Skallington A.N.S ( Adept of Necromantic Sciences )

** set lower on the page almost at the bottom of the page **


I have to wonder what it is like, so far under the ground, In the winding endless tunnels. There are horrors, yes but there are wonders as well. Will you get to see them? It is The birthplace of so many creatures, in lore, the birthplace of my own kind. Earthcaller protect your own. Come back safely and tell me your stories.

[Hyme]

Like it.

[ravin]

Sunrise:

I’m use to seeing this side of night. Often I spend the dark hours in the lab or Library. I have never seen it like this before. The sun rises over the city, casting a phosphorescent glow to the morning fog. I can see the moon bridge from here the shifting, glittering blue like a gem in an elaborate crown.
All of my life I have lived in this city, and I think that this is the first time that I have really seen it..At least like this. Much has changed in the past few hours, much and at the same time, very little. I have decided that I want to join the spell guard, some might think that this decision was influenced by my affections for its most prominent gnome may have something to do with this. I can’t deny that it does. Watching him, his convictions, his fight for what he believes in I found that I had a desire to put my skills and intellect to use. To be more than just a student or a part-time investigator. I thought that perhaps I could use my skills to make this place, my home, safer.
Things have changed with him as well. I suppose Eifor was right I just needed to be a little brave. I have no real expectations nor do I know where this will go, but I am willing to see. Father Says that life is an experiment without a control. Sometimes you just have to run with it to see what happens. I think things are showing promising results thus far. I think, for a change, I’ll leave my drapes open today, the sunlight seems most agreeable.

Ah well, Off to class. Hopefully I can sort out that Evocation Exam today.

[Lucifer]

nice I like the story and like the artwork simple but elegant

[ravin]

Wonders:

I’ve just compleateted the last of my standard level classes. Mistress Ostelle commented on my attention span today, apparently I seem distracted to her. I suppose I am. I keep thinking about the Tower of Wonders. Olaf was kind enough to bring me to the clockwork tower. It was a place that I had heard stories of, Kareth went there often during his time of study. He always brought back stories of magnificent contraptions and little odds and ends to show his baby sister. I miss those times. Taking things apart to see how they work. Dissecting the fowl mother intended for supper that night to see how a bird could fly. Kareth sitting there, laughing at me and telling me “one day you’ll find something that you can’t take apart Bren-bren. Gods help us then…”

It’s unusual for me to talk about my family. I was evasive even with Mari. And yet, I found myself talking about my older brothers with Olaf. I suppose, I needed to. Since Kareth and Chane left and mother and father decided that they wanted to travel I’ve been on my own. I was born and raised in this city, I’ve seen the spires and statues all of my life. The day my parents left for Chult and the southern jungles the city I knew seemed to close around me like a gaping maw, swallowing me whole. I felt like I was drowning. So, I threw myself into my studies and my forensic work. I became a fixture at the library and when I was accepted into the University I submerged myself in work and learning. If my mind keeps moving the darkness may not catch up.
These are things that I don’t worry over now. I have found friends to share my thoughts with and I have a reason to laugh again. I’m still uncertain about many things but in this I think I will follow Cloakshadow’s guidance in this and devote myself to my art and to those I love.

I received a letter from Mother and Father today. A rather confused Parrot dropped it onto the roof of the college before taking up residence near the waterfall. At least I know that they are both well. I have to remember to Write Uncle Altus a thank you letter for the Loopberries. This year’s crop is the best yet.

B. Skallington A.N.S





** Folded, chewed and somewhat soiled from parrot-gram there is a letter pasted into the journal *

Bren-bren,

Your father and I are doing well. We have been accepted by a local tribe of lizard folk and are continuing our research and survey. It really is amazing how many different toads and frogs are edible here in the jungle. They also have various healing and mystical herbs that they use in complex rituals. Your father mistook some of their herbs for pipe tobacco . It took us the better part of a week to convince him to come down from the trees. He believed he was some kind of simian I think. He is nursing quite the headache currently but he sends his love.
I hope your studies are going well. No doubt you have mastered at least three circles of Magic by now. If not then I am sure you are not far off. I have every confidence in you my little Butterfly. We will be moving deeper into the forest soon, I will write you when I can. Remember that your father and I Love you.
Your father asks me to remind you to make sure he didn’t leave any portals open before we left home. I think it’s the herbs speaking. Take care of yourself dearest.

Love ,
Mother and Father.

P.S. have you found a Proper Gnome Man yet? I’m not getting any younger you know. * Small drawn gnomish smiley face*

[ravin]

Gnomes are not poets:

Give me a problem. Math, science, Magic I can solve it. Lay before me the ancient bones of a warrior king; I can give you his face. Ask me to tell you how I feel…I will stare at you blankly. Gnomes are Not Poets. Well at least not this one. I can’t quantify emotion. It exists outside of the range of the senses and yet can still be felt. Is it just the mind’s reaction to stimuli? Or is there an invisible force within. A soul that acts apart from the flash and bone. Something that exists in ethereal substance and thrives on these sensations? You cannot touch Love. You cannot open someone up and extract the anger. You cannot ask a grieving man where he is hurting because he will say “my heart” and this will not be accurate. The heart is an organ. It is flesh and blood. I have seen many hearts and never found that part of it that aches when one is separated from a loved one or burns with religious conviction. And Yet. Everyone says “follow your heart” “Listen to your heart” and “what does your heart say?” . It leads me to question if it is not the physical heart that houses the vast array of phantasmal sensations we call emotion…what does? The mind? The soul? I am reminded of a riddle that my Aunt Rubia often liked to quote to me….
What do all gnomes have, Some Gnomes share and no gnome can live without…


Feelings


I’m no great artist. I have no gift for prose like my brother. (Although admittedly his gift has gotten him run out of more towns thank even he will admit.) I can scarcely tell the difference between concern and abject terror. I know I was terrified when I thought I might lose Olaf and Mari. I did not react well, I fear I may have been...overly rude to those who were just trying to help. I was irrational. It was as if my intellect ceased to function. I could not think fast enough. I could not formulate a plan of action. All I could do was claw at an unmoving stone hand of my friend to try and free the gnome I had come to admire above all others….and yell like a madwoman. Not an artist or even remotely dignified way to show concern for one’s friends I think. This was the first real time I had ever experienced fear.
I suppose when death is natural to someone and you see it in all of its forms, when you see a body for all of its parts you become desensitized. Death is no longer frightening, until you see it on the face of those you care for.
I can’t stop thinking of this war, of the cult and the demon and all of the other things that hover over the city and I can do nothing about them. My power is limited, much to my shame. But if all I can offer is Loopberries and laughter, then I shall have to write my Uncle Altus…I will need more loopberries.
B.Skallington A.N.S

[ravin]

Angels and Demons:
Even now I can remember it all with clinical certainty. The sky over the city Roiled with violent looking clouds and lightning. This being, this Angel fell to Toril splintering the roof of the golden Oak. I remember seeing the storm and the lightning from across the river. I thought it may have been some kind of Astrological event, a meteorite of some kind. My initial thought was to acquire samples for study. Needless to say I was stunned by what I saw.
The victim was a large humanoid with marble white skin and great Gashes across the chest, abdomen and neck. A number of people, mostly local “ adventures “ as they call themselves , were standing around rambling about an angel. Mari apparently slept through the whole event (I have to question that girl’s perception sometimes).
Olaf was there, I must confess that I was torn between my own scientific curiosity and my desire to help him and the spell guard. Torn, until I saw his face that is. He looked more burdened than ever. When I saw him, even from across a blood and gore covered room, the expression, the worry in his eyes it was like a dagger shoved into my chest, metaphorically speaking. I was actually quite suppressed at my reaction. I became …worried. When we were forced to vacate the crime scene I began to piece together scenarios. I started to postulate theories as to how the creature may have been killed. Mari and mister Wenn as he is called seemed disturbed by this. Mari actually restrained me. I think she did so more for her own stability. To say that she was afraid and upset by the events would be an understatement.
The Spellguard questioned witnesses, including Mari who returned seeming stricken. The only thing I could do at this time was make loopberry tea and wait.
It was not overly long before the spellguard, Olaf included emerged and spoke with Persephone about her cursory medical examination of the body. I did not hear anything they discussed but one of the spellguard kept looking at me… I must wonder if it was Olaf’s regard or Persephone’s disdain that caused the rather less than cordial perusal.
Soon after , Olaf came to me and as I gave him a cup of tea he advised me that I would be allowed access to the body to try and find anything that had either been overlooked or not evident to the untrained eye.
The first thing I noticed was the blood. It painted the walls, floor and furniture with the spent vitality of the husk that lay before me. The second thing was the size of the victim. He, (I could only assume it was male as it did not have any superficial sexual indicators) was quite large, even for a humanoid. The damage sustained in the torso and abdomen would have severed a normal humanoid’s lower limbs and pelvic region from the rest of the body. The wounds were torn such as a claw or dull blade might inflict. The first thought I had was that they looked as if they had been inflicted by some sort of hinged claw similar to that of a crab. I leaned closer, the smell of brimstone and diseased flesh was prevalent amid the normal stench of blood and other spilled fluids. I was allowed to examine the body, but with the express instruction that I was not to collect samples from the victim. I would have liked samples to study, but my respect for Olaf and the institution of the Spellguard is such that I could not disobey. I performed a through medical examination of the remains measuring and probing each wound. I will not document my findings in this journal, that information is restricted to the Spellguard and those with proper clearance. Suffice it to say that we have conclusive evidence that the victim was murdered violently by a known assailant. The remainder of this investigation is in the hands of The Spellguard. I have informed Olaf that my services are at his…and their disposal should it be necessary.

B.Skallington A.N.S.

[ravin]

(( yes this is a long one so if you must TL:DR I understand )

Ups and Downs:

I finally completed my Standard transmutation test. Thanks to Olaf. His tutelage has been invaluable to me. Perhaps it was me merely his presence. To say that things are going well between us is, I think, an understatement. We took a walk to high hold to look over the shops there then we stopped by the meteor lake. We laughed; I seem to do that quite a lot when he is around. I have to admit that there was a rather unexpected…for lack of a better work, stab, of something beyond our usual joking and playful banter and affection. It called to mind the thought that the relationship will, in all likelihood, progress to another level. This is not something that I think should be rushed. That is not to say that I don’t find him attractive in a physical sense. Quite the opposite, I think he is the paragon of Gnomeliness. I just feel that it would be easier for him to focus on his current assignments and Duties without the distraction. When the time comes and we both decide that things should progress, it will. I am in no hurry. I am content in knowing that I have his regard and affection and he has mine.
While we were relaxing at the lake’s edge he suddenly became very serious. It seemed that a large Stag beetle (Lucanus elaphus – giganticus) had found its way to the lake shore and was drawing uncomfortable close. He suggested that it might be there to have a drink, but it crept closer and closer. When I saw the size of the creature I was struck with both fear and awe at the same time. This is an insect that could easily slice through a full grown human man with its mandibles and it was heading toward us. Olaf ordered me behind him, he fired off an attack spell…this clearly injured the insect as well as enraged it. It charged past him as if it intended to gore him but had somehow missed. The Insect, at this point, was thundering toward me. I called to mind the first attack spell I could summon, not a strong one, but it seemed to divert the creature long enough for me to move out of the way. Olaf finished it with another fiery attack. I must admit that I was quite shaken by all of this. I feel Olaf’s initial attack must have caused the creature to become senseless or else it would have been able to easily snip me in half like a bit of string. The gravity of this situation did not dawn upon me until we walked toward the road and found the corpse of an ogre that had been killed by what appeared to be the self same beetle. An Ogre! And Olaf had finished it with two, maybe three spells. This thought affected me greatly. I was terrified.
He made a point to tell me how impressed he was with my ability to even call a spell to mind while being charged by such a creature. I didn’t feel brave.
We returned to the city to sell the gems that we found on the Ogre’s remains when we ran into Mister Azra. He asked Olaf and me for assistance in retrieving the remains of a guard and companion from the Sewers. At this point we were joined by Alyra, Mari, and Eifor. Needless to say I was still a bit shaken by the encounter at the lake but I could not turn my back on one fallen in the defense of the city I love. So, down we went.
Despite the acrid smell of decay and filth we descended into the labyrinth of tunnels that lay below the Silver city. It was here that I had an opportunity to see my first specimen of sentient amorphous gelatinous creatures. A cube to be exact. Alyra seemed more annoyed than concerned about the creature and carved her way into its interior gel sack essentially rupturing it from the inside out. The remaining mass was little more than acidic goo.
After a short time we were able to recover the bodies of the fallen men. They were lying near a beetle nest. I wondered if it had anything to do with the creature that attacked us at the lake. Alyra did not waste time in bringing the remains back to the surface and delivering them to the catacombs and the priests of Kelemvor.

It was at this point that someone suggested that we sweep through the lower crypts to make sure that they were free of any dangerous creatures. I was actually a bit excited about this prospect. To be able to roam back in time as it were among the bones of fallen heroes as well as the remains of the farmers , architects and artisans that built the silver city was enough to make me almost forget that it would probably be dangerous. I had no idea.
In the depths of the catacombs we came across the typical vermin, rats, spiders…another jiggly cube creature, and the Elf I know as Mister Maer. But I was not prepared for what greeted us in the large chambers.
Undead. Powerful undead. Ghouls, giests, mummies, wraiths and a creature, an apparition in armor that was not only powerful but terrifying. I lost all sense. My spells failed and I found myself charging blindly toward it. A plate gauntlet connected with my chest as if it was just swatting away an annoying fly. It threw me back several yards. Pain exploded through me. As I lay there I could feel the broken ribs, probably a punctured lung and ruptured internal blood vessels. I was dying. My thoughts were hazy, colored with resignation. I had at least had a chance to experience all the things a gnome should. Adventure, laughter, science, magic…I had no regrets…except one. I looked to Olaf. If I was dying I wanted this image to burn into my mind.
A warm light spread over me. I thought the end had come, but instead of leaving this realm I was returning to it. Standing over me was the Elf Maer with a dissipating scroll in his hands. I have yet to thank him properly. Olaf was there next trying to make me drink a curative potion. I tried to tell him I was fine. I omitted the feeling of bruised, sore and general overall pain that ebbed through me every time I moved. I did not want him to worry.
We continued on and found a nest of the undead they were gathered around what seemed to be a horn of some great evil. Alyra picked it up and it seemed to attach itself to her and would not release its hold. When Olaf freed her of it was decided that we should try and destroy the thing. Even Alyra’s blessed Sword could not damage the thing. Olaf contained it within a chest so that its evil would not affect anyone else.
With that we traveled back to the surface, as much as I was enthused to be in the Earthcaller’s realm amid the layers of history I do not think I was ever so grateful to see sunlight.
Eventually Olaf and I found our way back to the college; we walked together his arm around me. There was a great comfort in his strength it seemed to make the previous events melt away.
Before we had left the college the day before I had spoken to the registrar and reserved one of the colleges guest suites so that I might make dinner as a thanks to Olaf for helping me with my transmutation Final. Of course the promise of a mushroom and spinach stuffed quail of her own may have had something to do with her agreement. So now, we sat in this massive room, covered in blood and grime from our “adventure” and more than a little tired.
Again, Olaf, wonderful Gnome that he is offered me a curative. When I declined he offered at least to bandage the remainder of my wounds. I accepted this. It was only after I realized that this meant removing my shirt. Even in my battered, pained and exhausted state I managed to be embarrassed. He made the honorable suggestion of me turning my back to him and he would let me bandage the more…sensitive areas while he would tend to my back. When it was done I was wrapped in a blanket to preserve my modesty.
I am not sure what made me speak…exhaustion perhaps or the sting of the salve but I asked him to stay with me. I offered to sleep on the couch; I just did not want to be alone. He agreed to stay, although he would hear none of my sleeping on the couch. He lifted me, blanket and all and carried me to the bed. I could no longer keep my eyes open, the pain ebbed from my wounds and I fell asleep the last conscious feeling was a warm soft kiss on my forehead. My last thought… I love you Olaf.



B.Skallington A.N.S.

[ravin]

A gnome of my own:

It’s difficult not to give in to the gushy, irrational emotions. As a mentor he has been unquestioningly helpful. As a tutor he has been both challenging and understanding. He shares ideas openly and accepts criticism and debate with an open mind. For all of this I respect him.
Beyond that, beyond the Spell guard and the accomplished wizard there is another gnome all together. One who thrives on laughter and blushes as readily as I do when praised. A gnome who would and often does risk everything for those he loves. A Gnome who Cloakshadow would …should be proud of. A gnome I am proud of.
There are a few things I must take into consideration. He is a celebrity. He is a well known member of the elite force that protects the common folk of the Marches. I think he may not realize this. He is a leader. Others value his opinion and trust his word. These are heavy burdens for him. Yet, he bears all of this and more without so much as a complaint. His strength is immeasurable. But by far the most powerful weapon he has is his smile.
I sat beside him watching the light dance in his eyes. I knew it would be short-lived. I know he’ll leave soon to go north. There is nothing I can give him, nothing I do to make this easier for him. I want to give him something to be a light in the darkness that he now faces, but there is so little time. And he is so stubborn.
It has been decided that Stew will stay with me while he is gone. I fear this will be more of a comfort to me than him. Slinky seems to like the idea of having a playmate. My only fear is that I will spoil the bunny beyond any recognition and Olaf will have a difficult time getting him to behave properly after the visit is over.

I pray to all of the gods who will listen, bring him back alive we’ll be waiting here when he comes home.
B. Skallington A.N.S
**Scribbled in the margin **
Fresh greens
Carrots
Apples
Radishes
Raspberry leaf
Cooked liver for Slinky

[ravin]

That which must be:
I spent time in the lab today. I was running more tests on the ooze Olaf gave me. There is nothing conclusive beyond what we already know. I know that things are not well. I know that the Mythal is not working as it should. It is the only explanation. I will do everything in my limited power to find out why.
I keep looking over these Samples wanting something to reveal it. I have cross referenced every known book on Demonology and planer beasts and have yet to uncover what this substance truly is or what the significance it could be. The only thing I can surmise is that it is an Amorphous Parasite that needs a host creature to exist. The substance appears black and viscous in nature and will readily invade a host creature as in my earlier trials with the rats; however the host does not live very long under its contagion and dies quickly with plague-like symptoms. The substance…or parasite itself seems unable to sustain itself when separated from a host organism.
It is almost as if the substance is part of the demon itself, preying on the living, feeding on the life within them until the infection is complete then it abandons them, leaving them to die.
I have tried numerous ways to destroy the substance outside of long-term isolation and met with no favorable results. I would like to gather a sample blood from Mari’s left hand and compare it to the samples I have already to see if there is any link between her “possession” and the parasitic substance. Until then I can only speculate.
I have a couple of theories regarding the substance and the demon itself.
Theory: The substance is a by-product of the demonic presence. The culminated filth and disease that flows beneath the city in combination with the strong magical field seems to have coalesced into this river of ooze that seems to be centered on the focus of the demon’s attention. The temple of Lathander. This theory leads to several questions. One: Why is the Mythal failing to banish the demon and its influence? I gathered that something might be wrong with the wards after Olaf met with the High Lady. He did not impart to me the subject or content of the meeting but I could gather that it was not what would be considered good news.

Theory: the demon was summoned or trapped within the boundaries of the city ages ago and with the weakening of the wards was somehow able to free itself. The book it seeks to destroy is the last thing that binds it. The Glabrezu that infected Mari is not the Demon in question this Glabrazu has a master, a stronger demon that commands it. A Balor Perhaps? That thought frightens me. The glabrezu was powerful enough to destroy a Celestial and cunning enough to trick Mari. (Although admittedly Mari is quite trusting in her assessment of people) What must his master be like?
My Mind keeps turning north, to Olaf and Alyra and the soldiers that fight with them. To the darkness that they, even now march toward. I did not want him to go. I also would not try to stop him. There are things that are bigger than both of us (no pun intended) There are things that we cannot turn from. This is one. He must face the threat in the north just as I must face and hopefully find a way to contain the darkness that now spreads its wings over the Silver City.
He has taught me much in the short weeks we were together. I have learned how to laugh, how to love and how to trust. But more important, I have learned that to protect these entire things one must be willing to make sacrifices. Even if it means that we are not together we will both do what must be done? For the sake of all.

[ravin]

Nightmares and Daydreams:

My sleep has been troubled. It is likely the effects of fatigue and stress that comes with the events of late. I just feel the need to commit the troubling dreams to paper as if it would purge them from my mind.
We, Olaf, Mari, Eifor and Alyra were below the city in the catacombs again. Everything was still. There was a heavy silence in the bone-filled chambers but it was not the silence of a peaceful death it was an oppressive silence. It felt as if an unseen hand was pressing down on us. Every step I took seemed labored as if I were trudging through sand. We came upon the deepest chamber and there stood one single sarcophagus. This is what we had apparently been searching for.
My friends stood back as I examined the ancient tomb. When I probed at the seal on the lid a black viscous substance began to bleed from the cracks in the stone. The ooze began to reach with tendrils toward me first grasping my wrist then beginning to consume my arm. I wanted to scream. The chill of cold evil raced through me. I was paralyzed. I felt the bile rise in my throat. I was helpless as the invasive substance spread over my skin like a consuming wave. It felt like burning acid and cold ice searing me to my bone. I tried to look to my friends for help and found only faces frozen in abject horror. I looked around me and found that I was surrounded by the faces of the dead. Ghosts, wrights, the rotting animate remains of fallen soldiers. They spoke.
It was not coherent words. I felt it more than I understood it. It was as if a cold, hollow place had been carved in my chest and the black ooze was seeping into it. They were reaching for me.
I tried to fend them off, but when I looked at my own hands, they were pale, cadaverous limbs with putrefying flesh and bone. Again, I tried to scream and reach for Olaf, for my sanctuary. And found nothing. I wanted to cry, wanted to fight, but I sank deeper into the ooze. All breathing stopped all feeling grew cold and numb as the creeping infection closed around me. I remember thinking “I’m sorry. I was not strong enough”

The world suddenly exploded around me. White and gold light burning into the darkness. Sound came rushing back with the concussion of magic a battle and I was there in the catacombs with my friends as they laid waste to the risen dead. I saw the bright flash of Alyra’s magic blade, the sweeping hum of Eifor’s axe. I saw Mari’s blade cutting into the ravaged dead forcing them back and the explosive prismatic display of Olaf’s Missile storm. I stood there among the cacophony of battle, unable to move, unable to strike dazzled by the whirlwind of steel and magic and utterly helpless.

The world shifted. Olaf and I were standing in the garden on the roof of the college as we had the night he departed I could not let him go... I did not want to. And then just as suddenly he was gone. I watched him walking down the road as if from a great distance, I tried to run after him but I could not catch up. I collapsed in the road again with the deep hollow feeling in my chest and words ringing in my head.

“Not strong enough”

I awoke crying. This is not something that I have ever done. I have always been able to reason out my dreams and the causes for them. This one is no different. But never has a simple dream affected me to a point where it has caused me to cry.

When I finally calmed my emotions and was able to get out of my bed I felt a sudden rush of energy like bolt of lightning into my mind and I heard His voice.

“Dear Brenna: I am safe and well. How are your studies going? I hope Stew isn't troubling you too much. With love, Olaf”

Was I still asleep? No… I couldn’t be. This was far too coherent to be a dream. I recognized the spell pattern. It was a sending spell. He continues to amaze me. I had to smile. I responded as quickly as I could hope that it would reach him. Hoping it was more than just a dream.

At least for now I have the comfort of believing he is safe and well. Thank you Earthcaller. Thank you Cloakshadow.

B.Skallington A.N.S.

[NESchampion]

(( Powerlessness is a powerful character mover for sure. I remember when Olaf first really felt it. Well written. ))

[ravin]

Chaos:

((This is a bit of a different entry. It’s actually done from Slinky’s POV. So, if ferrets could write this is what it would be))
The light is up. It is time to be awake. The Brenna stills sleeps and the long-ear as well. I shall change that. The long-ear twitches in his sleep. He wants to play? Coil and spring tumbling off of the soft nest. This is fun! The long-ear is not having fun? He squeaks at me. I think he does not like. Perhaps he would like to chase? I pounce again. We roll. This is much fun! Now the long-ear chases. Around the room, up on to the high places I can climb. The heavy things filled with words are in my way. I can push them aside. Look out Long-ear! They Fall! The Long-ear squeaks at me again he is not having fun I think. Maybe he cannot climb. I will jump down. There is a thing in the way. I can see through it but I know it is there. It has greens in it. I will push it aside as well. It crashes on the ground. The Brenna is awake now. She looks like she is not having fun. I can feel that she is not happy. I will make her happy! I jump to her and climb ups her trunk I will hide on her head. She will laugh. Why is the long-ear not chasing? I will play with him too. I jump from the Brenna and roll with the long-ear. He will chase now. The Brenna is opening the door! The long-ear runs through it. He wants me to chase! Out of the Room! The Brenna is yelling now. I can’t hear her. I am chasing the long ear into the place with high-places and word-heavies. The long-ear is gone. I can smell him. I look up to the high places. Long-ears can’t climb.
I hear a squeak “look out Slinky-thing! Books Fall!” There is a loud sound and a word-heavy lands in front of me. I look up to see Long-ear looking down. He looks like he is having fun now.
“You climb Long-ears?!” I squeak
“Yes” he replies pushing another word-heavy from the shelf it thumps into the ground near me
“It is fun being up” I squeak as I climb to him.
“The tall folk will be angry” Long-ears says “if they can find us”
I look to the long-ears. He wants to play. We will hide from the tall ones and play with the word-heavies. The small scaly ones below are not happy with our fun. They squeal and chatter at us as we run along the high places a few chase up over the stacks of word-things. We play much until we are both sleepy again. We found a small cave made of word-things and long-ear and I slept….Until the Brenna came and carried us back to the room for food. It was a fun day.

((Brenna’s Version)
I was Awaken this morning by the crash of my vase of Silver Star Lilies as it hit the stone floor. I looked over to see Slinky standing on the desk attempting to look innocent. Nearby several books had been ejected from the shelf. Stew sat near the shelf looking rather nonplussed. I went over to see the extent of the damages when Slinky launched himself at me and scrambled up to my head as if I were some sort of “home base” for playing children. Slinky nearly knocked me off balance with his antics. Poor Stew hoped around my feet as if trying to help. Slinky in a moment of panic leapt from my head and plowed into the Put-upon bunny. I pulled myself up and decided to go get a broom and dust-pan to clean up the glass. This was going to be one of “those” days. When I opened the door Slinky ran out followed by Stew. I called after them as they ran toward the library. They did not come back. Resigned I continued clean the mess. Several minutes later Master Oakroot appeared at my door looking rather upset.
“Miss Skallington! Your Familiar has Corrupted Mister Beljuril’s Rabbit and the pair are terrorizing the bookwyrms and destroying the Library!!”
I found the pair curled up about an hour later amid a fallen pile of demonology books. I found it somehow fitting. I was not sure whether to laugh or scream. I chose to laugh.

[ravin]

Decisions:


First Day

Personal is not the same as important. I've always believed this. The greater good must always come before what I want for myself. But I can't quantify this illogical need to pack my field gear and head north. I know there is a war. I know there are giants, orcs, gnolls, goblins and all manner of gnome-hungry creatures between here and there. I know it will be days of hard, cold travel . I know that this course is dangerous..almost certainly deadly. So i will not consider it.


Second day

The feeling nags at me again. To say I miss him is beyond understatement. I have done all I can to keep busy. I have solved almost every puzzle book in the library. I have completed all but the most complex course work. I have offered to help the constabulary. I have even isolated the demonic blood in Mari's arm--it is doing nothing to turn my thoughts from Olaf and the horrors he now faces. I have not received another sending from him in some time. I fear for him. It would be reckless of me to run north into the teeth of almost certain doom just to make sure he is alive and eating properly...what if he ran out of loopberries? I must not think of this. I have to turn my mind elsewhere. Perhaps Mistress Ostelle will allow me to teach an introductory to Necromancy class.


Third day

I can no longer ignore it. I have tried every method imaginable to banish the foolsih and reckless impulse from my mind. It is insistant. I must go. But I can't...but I have no choice. Which in itself is a silly statement. There is always a choice. This has become almost a physical pain for me. It feels like something inside my mind clawing at me. To be realistic I know this is selfish and dangerous. I know it is likely he is preoccupied with the battles before him. There is no promise that I will even find him. The Knights offer the assignment of patrol to Hawk's Nest. While this would be part of my duty were I a Spellguard, I would be undertaking this for strictly selfish pretenses. I have to see him...or find his body. I can not go on without knowing something. I can not sleep for worry. I cannot cast even the smallest cantrip for lack of concentration. The only way to know is to head north. I will take the mission to Hawk's Nest and then I will take the road north to the Dwarven Fortress, to Felbar if I must. I will tell them I am a messenger sent by the Knights. The Logs will lend creedance to my fabrication. Cloakshadow guide me. I pray this is the right decision. I will leave in the morning. I just have to know.

[ravin]

Justice and Truth:

We took a trip to Rivermoot to track down a half-orc named Bill. Mari has been charged with purging the streets of the city and saving the faithful of Lathander from the wickness of recreational substances. After analyzing this Sannish I must admit that I can see where it would cause some alarm. Prolonged exposure to this substance can cause not only a loss of motor function but a degrading of mental and emotional faculties. It’s lethargy in a vial. Why would anyone want to do this to themselves?
Upon arrival in Rivermoot we came upon a gathering of people around a body. I offered my assistance in identification, but apparently Mister Slate recognized this as the body of one Severin Creed. I was engaged by the Legion Sergeant to assist in the report. The full disclosure of which was sent with the remains to the legion fort. We were repaired for the effort with a fine meal and lodgings for the night. It was quite generous of them.
As we dined, with the addition of several new acquaintances of whom I did not get names we were approached by a rather large half-orc who asked if we would like to add to the fun of the gathering by purchasing his “merchandise”. The man known as Noah, from my first impression a rather aloof, jaded and opinionated individual proceeded to engage the half-orc in a transaction. I have to wonder if this is because he wished there to be evidence of wrong-doing or if he wanted the items for his own use. In any case. Mari proceeded to arrest him. She warned him not to fight. He didn’t listen… they never listen.
In one swift motion Mari grabbed a chair from the table we had been gathered around and threw it at the retreating half-orc effectively knocking his legs out from under him. Both slate and I leapt on the criminal attempting to pin him. I applied pressure to the third cervical vertebrae to cause spasms should he attempt to move. I must admit it was all quite exciting.
When Mari had him bound and upright he struggled a bit more. I attempted a different approach to behavioral modification. Deception. Bill did not strike me as a particularly intelligent creature, so I reached into my bag of tools and brought forth the shiny “spatial capacity apparatus”. I advised him in a very friendly tone that I had ways to ensure his continued cooperation.




The orc almost immediately began to imagine what I might be talking about. He became quite afraid of the images his panicked brain had created. All I had to do was stand there me n his line of sight and fiddle with my tools. One item, a back scratcher created from a dowel rod, a few springs and a dull scalpel blade blunted with a file. This causes him to recoil in abject horror. All I said was “this is for the hard to reach places”
We took him into custody and returned to the City. When we were remanding him into the custody of the constabulary we made an attempt to question him as to the source of his merchandise. He was not very helpful at first. So, I thought of another method, another deception. I informed the Captain that I was in need of a clean cell with a drain, a table with restraints another table for my tools and six bottles of any fizzy drink that was available.
When asked what I would do with all of that I simply told the officer that it was a sure fire way to get needed information from a suspect without leaving a visible mark or any evidence of mistreatment. I let him know that I could demonstrate for him. At this point the Half-orc broke. His mind had conjured so many horrors that he was offering any information that he could to keep him away from me.
I find it fascinating that we, as sentient creatures can often create more horrific tortures and fears from the mere suggestion than anything we face in reality. We fear the unknown. We fear “what might happen”. I consider this point as I think of Olaf and the war. I know that he is facing horrors beyond my imagining. I know that what I perceive may well be better than the truth of what he now fights. But I think I feel better with the hope that my fears are founded only in the recesses of my mind. I think that if I knew the truth I might be even more worried. I have no doubt that he will return. And while I have no Imperial evidence to support this I do have a strong feeling. Something in that ephemeral part of my being believes that I will see him again.
Soon I hope.