Description
You find yourself staring into the thin, brown-skinned face of a wood-elf.
With surreal emerald-green eyes, a sharp chin and high cheeks his face looks
rigidly Elven. Yet where wrinkles break his smooth, flawless skin you see a
visage capable of shaping any expression imaginable. He has marks where his
grin almost meets his Elven ears, his brow has lines where it has furrowed
deeply and his wide-eyed look pulses with excitement. His motley equipment is
both jaunted and colourful, small ribbons of green wool and birds feathers
have been added to give it a rare look best described as 'random'. His long,
tall body has something of a jerky nature to it that makes him border between
looking ridiculous and comical. Held back only by his stiff, pointed ears -
his blond hair tries its best to flow freely in front of his face. You note
his hair looks slightly sun-bleached and is cleaner, healthier and more
untangled than you'd expect. His colourful clothes also look faded by either
time or exposure. Perhaps both.
Upon his right wrist, where his sleeve is rolled up, you think you spy a few
grains of white sand, dancing upon his tanned skin.
Role
Chapter 5, The foggy meadows
Added Fri Dec 31 10:50:27 2004 at level 51:
I have taken the time to write, here, my thoughts on two things. My thoughts
upon Wisdom and Knowledge, and second my thoughts upon Chaos and Order. Both
of these have changed my behaviour greatly, perhaps these writings can give
an insight as to why.
Wisdom and surety, two things that should come hand in hand. Like peace and
spirituality, the more of one you gain the more of the other you discover.
Yet, I feel like a child with no mother. My Wisdom doesn't dwindle yet the
surety of my youth begins to fade with no source but myself to refresh it.
So to justify myself, I feel I must write upon what I know. Maybe I can find
a way to teach others yet.
The Ancients teach us not in ways direct nor straightforward. The chaos of
the soul and the primal state of mind we encourage has no need for basic,
repetitive conditioning. It needs wild and beautiful inspiration and to be
nurtured by the ever-changing world about it. Can we call what we learn
knowledge? Or is it wisdom? Instincts feel to me like they are neither for
all posses them we are merely those who understand. Is the knowledge to use
them? Then maybe the wisdom is in adhering to them. It feels so baseless to
place words and definitions on our ways yet guiding feels like it needs it.
Is this how civilization began? In my mind, the questions roam free like the
others. I feel no need for security or stability when it comes to my soul for
as long as the Lady guides me, I am safe.
Chaos is what we should encourage. Not to let loose completely, for there is
an Order to nature, but to be tainted by it continually is the way to be.
Perhaps the Magistrates don't see it but chaos influences their daily duties.
Like a funnel, they try channelling events, possibilities and the cataclysms
of their world into set categories that will come under Law or do not. How
can everything be defined? It cannot. There is their failing, their weakness
and their downfall. I would respect them better if they were like the Elders.
In them, I could see the 'Law', I could see the Order yet they had it not
written. No words to twist, only unspoken rules that no Elf would break. We
would know our wrongs and accept punishment as if wed judged ourselves.
Perhaps we had already decided it when we wronged. My people have come far in
their culture. I'm surprised the other races don't listen more. There is an
eternal balance to all things.
My behaviour has changed a lot in these years, reflecting such beliefs. While
I play, I do so unpredictably. While I fight, I do so under the influence of
whims. Even in discussion, emotion and thought I have let chaos taint me
enough to stop any semblance of order shackling my actions. Yet, within it
all, there is still the pattern. Within it all there is me. As the Lady would
say, its less a pattern... it's a rhythm. Ah, and now I see in myself her
Wisdom. Thank you.
My Song is there and so I shall always be myself.
It never ends, did it begin?
Do the answers lie within?
Where the Spirit lies in wait
Wrapped in endless mystery
Free of happiness or misery
For all time it'll sing
Till I am no longer a man
But even then can it end?
If it does, it never began.
Chapter 1, The footpath out
Added Fri Nov 26 18:09:42 2004 at level 19:
Life, Fate, the Ends and the Beginnings. The Great Circle that makes ends
meet and life continue. From where I look, the world pulses like a living
heart in my hand. It looks so simple, just as the Elders taught, yet I
understand none of it. I sometimes believe they don't either.
Not long ago, I had a dream, no... I had a nightmare. I saw a day that was
like any other. The green-filtered light of the woods glittered on the stream
and bird song softly played through the air. I clambered up a pine on the
taller hill to look out over the forest. I dont remember the weather, for
some reason the details escape me but I remember what looked like a shadow.
Bands of leather-clad orcs were marching over our hills making the earth, the
trees and my heart tremble. I could see the village, as if the woods were
transparent, below me. I ran down the hill shouting and screaming but no one
seemed to hear. I had to watch the orcs close in and as they did so, I found
myself doing nothing. I lay down on the moss and curled into a ball like a
child in its cot. That moment, when the first orcs boot came to trample me
down, I woke. There, in a small pool of my own sweat, I clutched my chest and
felt a great fear of the future. I hurt but it wasnt physical. It felt like
more, as if my spirit ached with panic at an unseen terror. As the dream
faded from my mind I felt the panic flow away and the calm of the Vale fill
my thoughts with peace. I don't know what I did then but it was as if I was
still dreaming. The Lady, I believe, must have called. There was no sound, no
feeling but she must have because I followed.
Why do things happen as they do in dreams? I don't know but when destiny
pulls I suppose you must follow. Even armed with the wisdom of the Gods,
hero's have impaled themselves upon the pike of fate knowing it would end
them. I hope it doesn't end me.
And so as dawn came, my feet felt the path beneath them move. I left the Vale
with almost everything I needed. If only I'd known I'd left my heart where
home was.
Chapter 2, The Road-side shrine
Added Mon Nov 29 17:34:36 2004 at level 28:
I can steel feel the tingling on my lips from the moment I dared kiss her
hand. The Lady was more than comforting, she played her holiest Temple like a
house and was an amazing host. I felt honoured to be allowed into her home of
praise and even more so to have the Lady's time spent on a mere wandering
mortal such as myself. The cool of the desert night did nothing to stop me
blushing at her time-less form, she truly is the Jewel of the Desert.
Though viewing the place was like having my eyes blessed it was more her
words that touched my spirit. I see now it is not only my job to bring
merriment and distraction to the weariness of the Hunt but also to heal.
Wounds fade with time but there is more than the physical to consider. I knew
as soon as I left that place of wonderment that I had to heal the wounds that
run deeper. For some, such as Karrel, my aims may be hopeless but for others
I can soothe their spirits and calm their thoughts. I myself have even felt
the frustration at being held back by what appear to us as children,
empowered only by the walls and swords they call to them.
Even in the darkest times, I must remember my smile. With so many
disheartening woes that beset us, I must remember to protect the Spirits of
those about me. I shall not forget the Lady's wisdom, for as she spoke to me
of the Heralds and their task, she mentioned even they feel disheartened and
defeated. Who is it that heals the healer?
I will.
Chapter 3, The hidden path
Added Tue Nov 30 10:54:24 2004 at level 32:
Ever since receiving the Ancients blessings, I have found them contacting my
Spirit more and more often. Its as if they communicate in the same way my
stomach tells me I'm hungry. Little noises one the wind, strange urges to
reach out to things with my Spirit and feelings inside that I cannot call my
own. They speak to us not in words but by becoming a part of us as our
Spirits move closer together. It is heartening to think that every day we
move closer to the Ancients, it's another grand step in the return of the
unblemished land of Thar-eris. My first encounter with the zephyr spirits of
the wind left me amazed at the secrets that even Nature has forgotten.
Just as the Lady told me there is poetry in all things. Those who try too
hard, I can see their faults. They don't try to describe any beauty. Instead,
they try to create the illusion of beauty with their words and ways. Truly,
first sight is the only way to experience the miracles of Thar-eris. That
said, I begin to believe I have developed a second sight, as even the trees
look different now. Though there is always the need to kill, to hunt and to
scavenge from our homes, I can say for the first time I have a profound
respect for that which I take. There is only one thing I could never feel
close to. Those accursed cities and their corrupt influences. Perhaps now I
see how much life is around me.
Even the wind in the grass has a Spirit-song I yearn to share.
Chapter 4, The busy Game-trails
Added Tue Dec 14 23:59:34 2004 at level 50:
Although, admittedly, I'm drinking far more than is healthy I thank the
Ancients for making the Elven race sturdy enough to take it. I have enjoyed
my past few years more than any others. I realise now that I almost
squandered my youth doing nothing but strutting and pretending I was an
artist. Now I have made myself into a person I am truly proud of.
My amusing rhymes, one-line poems and small songs have been inspired greatly
by my Lady's way of thinking. Thanks to her, I see things of great beauty in
even the simplest of things. In fact, I've come to realise how boring some
things are compared to sitting down and staring at one spot for more than 10
minutes. The eyes tend to wash over details for if they saw all the time what
I can describe seeing in those 10 minutes, I'm sure our heads would explode.
The Lady has shown me that such moments allow us to reflect as well, although
I fight against my most hated enemies I see their own hearts straining for
their ideals. Some, I even feel pity for as they fight hard to convince
themselves fighting is worth it. Myself, I have found my own rhythmic living
style that I hope will stop the tear of the Cycle as it is enacted bloodily
around me. Perhaps it is why the bottle invites me so, for I realise now how
much the drink is for my own protection. It prevents me staring for 10
minutes at a foes corpse.
Although I find myself continually pushing the boundaries of my Spiritual
awareness, the Ancients remain an oddly elusive guiding force. I've been
asked to preach upon their teachings and in doing so I felt it a good time to
reflect deeply upon the meaning of my own words. We hunt as if pruning, we
protect like the city-men do their walls and we burn to enact the Ancients
wrath. The paths seem so simple yet I find it so hard to expand upon more
than a simple explanation. I wish I could commune more directly with the
Ancients, or find some sort of treasure trove of stories describing their
ways. Yet, I know, as the Lady said our history and ways are more lived than
written. Another thing that defines us as Outcasts of 'their' ways. I must
leave my thoughts with a poem. I wrote it while staring at the Totem's spirit
in our hallowed hollow.
As I simpered soundlessly by the stoic Sycamore,
The leaning Willow whispered of ways unheard,
My feet felt unfettered upon the faint, foggy trail,
My mind moved out, to moors and mires untamed,
Though I hadn't moved, hadn't thought, it had happened.
Where were my thoughts and self, if not here?
I am not what I am, or... am I not what I was?