Role
Planting roots
Added Wed Jul 31 00:30:08 2024 at level 9:
I have started this journal for two reasons. Firstly, to try to make sense of
all that has happened and begin to move forward. Secondly, because the events
of the past... however many years it has been... have begun to fade from my
mind, like a dream upon waking. And while I welcome the loss of the intensity
of those memories, I must have a record of them so I know it was all real. It
has only been two years since I returned from the plane of shadow, and...
No. No. I do not want to start there. Not in that horrible place. Not in that
darkness and despair. It will not define me, I refuse to allow that. I will
start where it all actually started, in the light, the joy, the music. These
memories remain strong, and they are what I will always cherish and cling to
when I question myself. If we are who we choose to be, then I choose to let
these early memories define me.
I am the youngest of nine children, and if you picture a household in chaos,
well... you picture it correctly! But it was a welcome chaos, a warm chaos.
Our house was always filled to the brim with everything: with food, with
laughter, with wine, joy, trouble, love, and music. Music most of all. My
parents were both musicians, and raised us all to be as well. Our days were
filled with the strumming of strings, woodwinds trilling like birds, rattling
and pounding of drums large and small. It was the most joyous cacophony one
can imagine.
My earliest memory is of my father holding me in the air, spinning about the
great hall, a fire roaring in the hearth. His green eyes caught that
firelight, filled with mischief, how I will always remember him! He twirled me
and sang a high tune, I am sure it was one that he had written, a comedic
song, for we always sang the songs he had written in my home. And my brothers
and sisters were around us, playing their instruments, harmonizing in their
beautiful voices, and laughing. My mother was on the piano, as always, around
which she moved like it was an extension of her own body. This memory in many
ways encompasses the experience of my childhood. Such joy. I will not dwell
upon it further, for it is impossible to paint an adequate picture in my
current mental state. But I will say this, that joy and music and laughter is
and has been my shield, and I owe my family everything for that.
The wood-elves were I suppose what you would call a tribal people back then.
My clan was the Al'lannia Shanyr'ria, the Clan of the Sweeping Falcon. We were
a small clan, low in status, living in a place I believe corresponds roughly
to the forests and plains east of Evermoon Hollow in the present. Our people
then were not often seen in the world, not like today. To see a wood-elf
outside of our forests was rare, for we were reclusive and distrustful. That
might be hard to imagine now, with wood-elves so far-flung, but most of my
clan had never been more than a few miles outside of our home territory.
Planting Roots 2
Added Wed Jul 31 00:30:43 2024 at level 9:
But not my family! Seeing the way the world is now, I think perhaps my parents
were great visionaries, their ways foretelling the future of the wood-elves.
Our family was always traveling, always seeking new connections and venues to
showcase my father's music. As I grew older, I came to know much of the world
as we traveled, meeting so many of Thera's people, from the wise and enormous
Storm Giants in their lakes and oceans, to the stern and wary dark-elves in
their deep lairs. My father and mother seemed to be able to make friendships
with anyone, and perhaps it was also the curiosity of meeting wood-elves back
then, but we seemed to be welcomed everywhere we went. Of course it was also
this traveling, this enthusiastic and possibly reckless friendliness, that got
me into the predicament that has consumed much of my life thus far.
Taken
Added Wed Jul 31 00:33:00 2024 at level 9:
As the youngest child, I watched as my siblings one-by-one departed our joyous
home, off to make homes of their own. Musicians and poets, some found
themselves bards and tale-tellers in the courts of royalty, some traveling
musicians much like my parents had always been. But as our large family home
dwindled, the attentions of my parents naturally fell to me more and more. I
had grown over the years to be a gifted vocalist, possessing both the vocal
range and the emotional connection necessary to be a great performer. I
traveled with my parents, performing my father's music to crowds large and
small. It was mostly his comedies. He had a true gift for it! And seeing a
young wood-elf girl performing some of these pieces was quite a hit. It was as
close to fame as I suppose one could expect from the world as it was then.
Father's songs were being sung in taverns across the land, even if many of
those singing did not know the origin.
This is where things begin to get slightly hazy, even now. I recall it was a
day in mid-summer. Father had gotten an invite for me to perform in New
Thalos, to a much larger crowd than we would usually see. We were so excited!
I remember my father, who was generally never nervous, wringing his hands and
saying words of assurance to me, not to be nervous. I'd do fine. The size of
the audience should not be a concern. Of course, these were words to sooth
himself, not me. As a child, I knew nothing except this would be a fun
opportunity, and I was excited!
New Thalos was a lot more civilized than most of the places we usually
performed. When we arrived, the inn accommodations seemed opulent. Looking at
what the world knows today as creature comforts, I have to kind of laugh. But
back then, just not having a piss pot poured out a window while you walked
down the street was almost unimaginable. The things New Thalos had done with
magic and ingenuity left us in awe. And the first night of the performance
could not have gone better. My voice seemed to ring off of every surface in
the hall, every moment of emotional connection landed. The audience laughed
when they should have laughed, sighed at the romantic moments, and the final
song brought them to their feet with applause! My mother on piano, my father
playing the harp and lute... though the memory becomes unstable now, I
remember leaving that hall feeling like we could all fly. We were stars!
And so, buoyed by that feeling, it is no wonder that I was so easily taken in.
At a gathering after the performance, an attractive young human male
approached me. Humans have always been a curiosity to me. Though we appeared
roughly the same age, he was probably only sixteen years along in life. And
yet, he held a certain charm. How quickly those people learn and grow... But
I, an elf of many more years, could not help but see him as an innocent child
by comparison. How wrong I was.
Taken 2
Added Wed Jul 31 00:35:01 2024 at level 9:
He lured me, plying me with cups of wine and sweet words. We left the
gathering, to speak more privately he said, not far he said, you are so
beautiful he said. This part grows especially hazy, and what I do remember is
like the stilled sculptures of life in some art exhibit. But I know something
happened and I blacked out. Was I drugged? Was I choked? But when my eyes
opened again, I was bound to some sort of stone slab or altar. I was
surrounded by cloaked figures, chanting something in a language I did not
comprehend. I can picture a portal opening, a shadowy figure leering down over
me, its features alien and terrifying. And then, blackness. Blackness so
complete it was as if light had never existed.
The Plane of Shadow
Added Wed Jul 31 00:36:26 2024 at level 9:
And then I awoke, in a way. I was aware of myself, though I seemed to have no
physical free will. My body, though I could not see it, was still there, I
believed. But it was as if I existed in a way separate from that body. Above
it? Disconnected. The body may have slept, may have eaten or drunk water, I do
not know. I do not think so, though. I think it was as if... time stopped for
the body, while the mind persisted. There were moments when the mind and body
reunited. Those moments were filled with pain and terror.
To call the place I was in "dark" would not be accurate. It was a place where
light had never existed, where darkness had layers one could somehow sense.
That sensation was madness, alien, wrong in ways I cannot now define. For a
very long time, I know not how long, I could simply not hold onto any of the
sensations I experienced in this place. After my mind acclimated to this way
of "seeing," I recall some type of machinery or apparatus surrounding me, tall
creatures with shifting features that did experiments or simply caused pain. I
am sure they has some type of goal, but I cannot guess what that was. I had
moments of clarity where my mind and body were joined, and those moments were
pure terror. Outside of those moments, my mind existed in another state.
Within that state, I was connected to the other prisoners where we were (which
I now believe was somewhere in the plane of shadow). At first, there were many
of us. We could communicate, and how we communicated was not like speech
exactly. It was a pure mental connection. We were joined somehow, part of each
other in a way, disconnected from out physical forms. We were creatures from
the material plane. I remember for sure a Duergar female, Grilgauffa, and a
being I believe might have been a squirrel or maybe a possum, no name, strange
to communicate with in this state. And there was Reji. That is what I called
him. His true name was unpronounceable, Reji was the best I could manage. He
was a fungoid. And while he explained to me that fungoids are devoid of gender
many times, I could not help but to see him as a he. He had masculine energy
in a way, somehow.
But I only remember these few because they are the ones who lasted longest.
Like my family moving away from our noisy household, one-by-one these beings
left our... collective. I suppose now that they died. This place was
impossible for us, an existence of disconnect and pain and horror and
darkness. The years... How many years? I do not know. Time had no meaning, but
a moment could be an eternity or an eternity a moment. We survived until we
could not. At the end, there was only Reji and myself.
A Sudden Awakening
Added Wed Jul 31 00:37:30 2024 at level 9:
Reji was a strange companion. In the material plane, we would have been unable
to communicate at all. Fungoids do not speak in their societies, most lacking
the physical components necessary to even do so. In a way, how we were joined
was far more natural for Reji, who would have joined to communicate with his
fellow fungoids through mycelium. But over the many years, I learned to
interpret his thoughts. We spoke of everything we had ever experienced, and
when those subjects were exhausted, we wondered about everything that ever
could be. We had nothing but time. We shared a connection by the end that I do
not believe anyone in the world could ever understand. These two vastly
different creatures, whose only common feature was their plane of existence,
had become as one. Was it love? I do not know. What is love? The memories of
this connection fading now is like losing a part of myself.
I remember it had been a long time since Reji had spoken... or thought in our
connected mind. This was not unusual, he took to long periods of dormancy. But
without any other voices in the collective, I was lonely. I prodded, I sought,
I even begged. And finally, he sent me a thought: By my spores, I do not think
I can take another moment. By my spores. It was a phrase... a series of
thoughts, that was akin to vowing upon your child, your future, your essence.
It was not something the fungoid spoke of trivially. I knew that something was
terribly wrong. And sure enough, it was the last thought I received from Reji.
My companion, my other half at that point, was gone. Just like that. For
eternity we had been one, and now there was only me.
I will not deceive myself, though my reserve of strength was vast (again I
thank my parents for the joy that has rooted in my core), I would too have
given up and drifted toward death at that point. To be the only one left, the
only voice in what was at first a noisy collective, speaking only to myself,
hearing only myself, thinking only thoughts that were echoes of thoughts I had
already spoken... What was left for me? Only the occasional moments of horror
and pain. Living shadows gazing upon my alien flesh. But mostly...
nothingness.
Luckily, I was spared. As quickly and strangely as my imprisonment began, it
ended.
What Now?
Added Wed Jul 31 00:41:22 2024 at level 9:
I awoke, a bizarre mirror of my fragmented memories of how this all began. I
was sitting, but not bound, on a stone altar. I was surrounded by cloaked
figures by firelight. For a brief moment, I thought that all of those
centuries, millennia, time untold was a hallucination and that no time had
passed. But as the thought occurred, those years came flooding back to me,
overwhelming. I knew each of those beings with which I was connected in the
first days, so much more vividly than I do now. I knew them as I know myself,
felt them as I feel myself. I mourned their loss yet again, though I had
mourned for an eternity. Most of all, I knew Reji. The material plane asserted
itself upon my body and my senses, and it was... hard to describe. Imagine you
have lived in the dark for your entire life, and then suddenly were thrust
into a room bright with firelight, sunlight, lightning bugs, faeries.... all
that is light, all that is life, familiar somehow but not experienced for
untold years.
My physical body reacted where my mind could not. I ran. I ran. I ran.
Thinking back now, I think I was at first pursued. I was as a doe running from
a hunter's bow. But I think those people, those in cloaks whoever they were,
were not expecting me. Not a wood-elf girl of so few years, as I still appear
to be. Not anything I was. They did not want me. I do not know what they were
after, but I think I was summoned from that place by accident. My freedom was
a ritual gone wrong. I will not overthink it. I am grateful now for this
freedom, even though at the time it was almost as terrifying as my captivity.
And then I spent, as far as I can recall, two years wandering and
re-acclimating to this plane. There are those whose names I cannot recall who
showed me kindness in those early days. Things could have easily gone worse,
but they did not. I was cared for, a young wood-elf girl speaking nonsense
phrases, trying so hard to pull myself together.
And those I do remember now, who helped me after I was a measure of myself
again. This world, the light, the sounds, the smells. Physical contact with
another person. I cannot express how much it means to me now. For a time, I
sat in ecstasy and overstimulation from these things. A kind touch on the
shoulder caused me to collapse into hysterics. But now, I am back to some
semblance of normal, as far as I can observe and recall. So... what now?
Moving Forward
Added Wed Jul 31 00:42:49 2024 at level 9:
The world I knew is no more. As far as I can tell, an age or more has passed
between when I was imprisoned and when I was released. I sought New Thalos,
if only to see where I last saw my family, only to find a thriving city
named Hamsah Mu'Tazz. It resembles the place I knew, if only vaguely.
Evermoon Hollow, in many small ways, resembles what I knew of my people, and
so I have taken a home here. Of my family there is no record. I do not hear
my father's music in the taverns and inns. It is lost to time, as was I. I
am here now, and yet I am behind. A product of another age.
One of my brothers, Trian'del, sought the adventurer's academy, to be a bard
and learn songs of power. We were proud of him, but his way was not ours. At
the time, I could not imagine such a thing. Music was for the people,
artistry. But now, knowing what I know, I think this is my path forward. If
I am to live, as I am determined to do, I must do so with power. I cannot be
helpless as I was, a flower to be plucked. I must be sharp. I must be
dangerous.
And what else? I carry my father's music within my soul. I recall his words
from my childhood. I carry my mother's passion, unrelenting talent. As she
was on those piano keys, so I am with vocal expression. I will not deny that
part of myself, to honor her if for no other reason. I must perform. I must.
I know of a group or performers, they call themselves the Heralds. Perhaps I
can find a home there. There is something more there as well, I cannot
define. I feel a pulling at my soul, and I am too far beyond what is
considered normal sensation to ignore such things. I think there is
something for me here. Call it destiny, fate. I do not know. I just know
that I must see it to the end, and I will.
I am a walking paradox. I am more ancient than the oldest living soul, and
yet most of my existence has been a reflection of childhood thoughts. And
this world is so strange to me now. In many ways, I am as inexperienced as a
newborn. And yet, I find myself so grateful for what I have now, this chance
to be what I was denied, to live a new life here in the light. I will make
the most of it, that I can promise you. I will hold tight to these memories
for as long as I can, and when I father I will return to this journal to
remind me of what came before. Reji, you live in me. Grilgauffa, you as
well. Even that squirrel or whatever it was, you have a place now. You are
in me, we the collective of spirits will thrive here in me.
I cannot help but to think this journey through time has a purpose. I have a
destiny. I lived through centuries of living darkness while others fell.
Father, mother, siblings... you gave me that shield. That joy. Most of all,
I embrace that in my core. Whatever happens, I will be me.
Summary
Added Wed Jul 31 00:43:56 2024 at level 9:
* Tamurah was a young wood-elf girl in the early ages of Thera
* She was the youngest of nine children in a famous musical family
* Tamurah was imprisoned in the shadow plane, for reasons unknown, passing
centuries in a type of partial life
* She shared her thoughts with others during her imprisonment, but was the last to survive
* Tamurah was brought out of the shadow plane by Scions, though she did not
know them by that name
* Tamurah's memory of her former life and her time of imprisonment is fragmented and dream-like
* Her memories will become even more dreamlike as time progresses and she
re-connects with the material plane
* She seeks to reclaim her former self, joy and music and happiness, but it will be a struggle
* She has a strong bond to a soul she calls "Reji", a fungoid who was
imprisoned with her for millennia, but who died from despair.
* She feels both ancient and infantile in this world
* Tamurah will seek the Heralds, to perform and commune with those of present
day Thera
* Tamurah will be drawn to Rarywey, feeling that time and fate somehow have guided her to this place
* Connection is her driving motivation in life
* The shadow plane is a trigger for her. If she sees nightwalkers or anything
from that plane, it will be very traumatic
* She does not know the word Scion, is not aware that they were both her doom and her saviors. Perhaps this will become clear over time.
Personality: Though a very young wood-elf in body, her spirit is ancient. That
said, it is of a strange kind of innocence, having spent untold years
contemplating the thoughts of a "teenager." As such, she may have great wisdom
beyond her years, or find herself fully lacking, depending upon the
subject-matter. Present-day Thera is a total mystery to her. She has some
ancient knowledge of places and people, but is still learning what happened in
the years she was imprisoned in the shadow plane. At her very core is a
joyful, playful music. It is what allowed her to survive where others fell
through her trial. This irrepressible spirit will be present in all she does.
The pull of fate
Added Mon Aug 19 20:18:53 2024 at level 51:
I read through my past journal entries often, for the very reason I wrote
them. A great deal has happened since then, and as I expected, the intensity
of the emotions and memories of my time of imprisonment have faded to an
almost dream-like quality. I have been hesitant to write more, because... I
don't know, exactly. It almost feels like a betrayal to those who passed in
that dark place to write about the joys of life after. And there have been
many joys! I should not feel guilty, I was not the cause of their suffering
and I did all I could there to keep hope alive for them. But they died, and I
did not. And now, even carrying them with me in my heart is... difficult.
Because I can't remember them as clearly now, and also because I have present
joys to focus on.
Almost right out of the adventurer's academy, I met a gnomish girl named
Phili. We got along instantly, and it turned out that she was also drawn to
join with the Heralds and was a healer who worshipped Rarywey. It seemed like
destiny had brought us together, and I suppose I feel that is exactly the
case. Some souls are meant to find each other in this life, and despite my
many years of imprisonment, the threads of our fates were woven together. I
think that is so beautiful. Our friendship has grown quite strong, and we both
joined the Heralds as we planned to do. We have been on many adventures
together, and I am certain there are many more ahead of us!
The Heralds are a wonderful group of people, led by one of the largest
personalities I have ever known, Raveghna! She is a human woman who holds some
odd beliefs, but I suppose that humans and their short years are prone to
clinging to such things. It seems mostly harmless. But she keeps laughter and
adventure flowing in equal measure within our little group! And there is
Winya, a fellow Wood-elf who also had something of a dark past which, though
certainly different from my own, makes me feel a strong kinship with her. She
is so sweet and loves the animals so much, it is beautiful to watch. The four
of us, Phili, Winya, Raveghna, and myself, have grown close and it feels like
a family, which is something I desperately needed.
I have also met with the goddess Rarywey, who is amazing beyond words. I have
been keeping many of my inner feelings to myself, because I do not know how to
really express them. But I was able to, to a degree, with her and well... I
think she knew more than I could say even. It was another reminder for me that
the intuition I have that guides me, call it fate or destiny I do not know, is
something I can trust. It guided me to the Heralds and it guided me to
Rarywey. If I feel that guidance pulling at me, I will follow.
Just over the horizon
Added Mon Aug 19 20:20:04 2024 at level 51:
I have visited many places since I began the path of the adventuring bard. But
one place I have not visited is the home of the Fungoids... of Reji. I have
thought to do so many times, but I know that the beings there will not
understand me, my speech, my intention, or what Reji meant to me. But I think
I need to do it for myself, if not for Reji. I never saw Reji's physical form,
aside from in his own mental images, which were difficult for my mind to
really interpret even after all those years. The way we communicated was far
more... intuitive, I suppose. It is hard to really describe. There were no
words between us, and yet we conveyed everything to each other. Does my mind
speak to my arm to move it? No, it just IS. In a sense, we became part of each
other in that way. It just WAS.
This has been one of my greatest struggles since being freed. As much as I
love my friends, we will never be as close as I was to those in my collective.
We were linked through pain and horror, and in that sense it was truly
terrible. But in another sense, we shared a connection that was so complete
that it was as if we were part of one-another. That is a connection I will
never feel with another person again. And I spent far more years experiencing
that than I ever will experience anything in my life outside of captivity. The
years remaining to me are like a drop of water compared to the ocean I have
already experienced (though a bright and glittering drop). And so I find
myself feeling that inadequacy in my interactions with people, and maybe it
holds me back from taking hold of the connections I could be having, knowing
they will never be complete as the connection I knew.
I am resolved to change this. I do not feel that one should spend too much
time looking backward. What has been cannot be changed, while what is to be is
unwritten. If that is my song to sing, then I wish it to be the sweetest song
possible, and leave behind no regrets. That is how I survived those many, many
years of darkness and pain. I feel, as I have always felt, that there is a
great joy to be had in this life. There is something just over that next
horizon that beckons me, and that something is going to be amazing.
To make a river
Added Sun Aug 25 19:59:36 2024 at level 51:
I met with Rarywey again, and we spoke a bit on... well, many things. I have
so many thoughts in my head right now, and summarizing them is difficult. It
is another frustration with the limitations of the life I now lead. I used to
be able to communicate my thoughts in a more pure form, now I must shape them
like a sculptor shaping clay into something coherent. The result often looks
very different than I would hope. But I will try.
We spoke of the nature of consciousness, what is or can be a soul. I got to
also speak with Tsiynil, not just the spirit of the river but the river
itself, herself. And she told me of how a people's devotion, focus, fears,
hopes channeled into the trickle from the springs she started out as
transformed her over a great many years into a goddess. And like that river,
the stars have souls and minds, as we have focused on them over the eons,
maybe not granting them life but growing that life into something more.
Molding them into shapes, as I now try to mold my thoughts on this parchment.
And I asked Tsiynil if she had been lonely in those years as a trickle, before
the people came to worship, and she said she had not been because she had so
much work to do. Carving mountains into valleys, becoming a river.
It was the final motivation I needed to visit the fungal colony in the
Underdark, Reji's homeplace. I needed to see this creatures that most would
not associate with the depth of thought and feeling I knew from Reji. To pay
my respects, yes, but also because I felt that pull of intuition I will never
again deny. There was something I needed there, and the time was right. And so
I went. I expected the creatures there to be alien, I expected them to not
understand me, nor I them. But I was not fully prepared for how awful it
really was. These fungal masses, clinging to corpses to gain locomotion, were
not the image I had of my friend. I spoke my words, I touched the mycelium
mass of the colony, but while they sensed me, they gave no indication of
understanding.
And then it struck me, if the soul of a river can transform into a goddess, a
mote of light into a grand star, then surely all of our souls have this
capacity. Reji came into our collective as one of those creatures, but by the
end he was something more. It was not just that those Underdark fungoids did
not have the physical capacity to speak to me, they likely lack the spiritual
capacity in a fundamental way. And if Reji had grown in this collective and
those great many years, then so had I, surely. Perhaps I, too, entered the
collective as a trickle of water, and emerged a river.
A Mysterious Missive
Added Sun Oct 20 19:30:00 2024 at level 51:
Over the years, I have just accepted that my family vanished into history
without a trace. What record could a tribal people leave that could be
meaningful all of these years later? Even those as well traveled as my
parents, how would one know what had become of them after literal ages have
passed in the land? And so, finding traces of them, mentions of them, in
historical records has passed from my mind. I have chosen to see them in the
wood-elves of today, imagining that their way of life came to influence that
of our people. They are blood of my blood, even if that blood has been very
thinned with time.
So, it was with great surprise that I received a missive by courier from a
far-off land, from a music school, saying that they had record of my family!
Not just record, but that their lineage and legacy lives on in this land.
According to this letter, after my disappearance my family traveled to this
land, which is called "Ankerita." There, they and many of my clan who
accompanied them had established a new home for wood-elves. My family had
founded a music school, still known as the Al'lannia Shanyr'ria School of
Music. It says there are statues of my father and mother in their courtyard,
and many musical pieces and manuscripts written in their hand, preserved for
posterity!
Can you imagine? A history I thought was long lost has been, in fact,
preserved. And it is so much grander than I could have ever imagined! A music
school in a land I have never heard of. My parents and siblings went to this
place to make a new home. The wood-elves there will be more than reminiscent
of my family. They will be truly of my own blood.
These people have invited me to come, as part of a great celebration. Word of
me and my story had reached them, somehow. They say to have the daughter of
the founders of their school present would be a great honor. I would be asked
to perform, and of course allowed to see all of the records and artifacts they
have related to my family history.
I feel I must go, though it will be a very long journey and I will need to
leave my duties as a Herald for the time I am gone. I will discuss it with
Raveghna and the others. But there is no question for me. This is too
important to deny. There is a nagging part of me that says not to go... though
I do not know why. Perhaps it is just hard to believe, after all this time,
that I may find some answers I have longed for.
A Parchment Written in Captivity
Added Sun Nov 10 16:57:56 2024 at level 51:
They have finally given me a pen and some parchment, mostly so that I may
communicate with the people who bring me my food and water periodically. I
suppose they are convinced at last that I can do no harm without my voice,
which has been suppressed with this cursed necklace they tricked me with at
the beginning of this ordeal. And it is true enough. Without my voice, my
power over words is limited to emotional expression, which is hardly useful in
this situation.
With little else to do, restricted to this stone chamber in which they keep
me, I will recount what led me to this state, a record in case I manage to
survive somehow or someone finds this parchment years from now, to know who I
was an what became of me.
My name is Tamurah Al'lannia Shanyr'ria. I am a Herald of the Eternal Star. A
great many years ago, in ancient times, I was taken prisoner in the plane of
shadow, only to be freed in modern times. Because of this, I have now been
taken prisoner again, this time by those who seek the power of the shadow
plane for themselves, and wish to use me as a bartering tool to obtain it, as
best as I can discern from the scattering of overheard conversation.
I was tricked into this situation with a story about a music school founded by
my family in a land I had never heard of. I was to take a ship to this land,
and attend a ceremony in celebration of the school's founders. It was all too
good to believe, and indeed I was foolish to believe it. I was just so eager
to find a piece of my long-long family, to reconnect with them in some way in
this life... I should have known better. Once I was on the ship, I was gifted
a necklace in the shape of a crescent moon. I was told it was owned by my
mother, an artifact kept in a place of honor for all these years. But once the
necklace was placed around my neck, it stole away my voice, and the power my
voice holds. I fought hard, but it was not enough, and I was eventually
subdued and am now a prisoner to these people.
What they intend to do with me is unclear. But past experience tells me it
will involve a dark ritual, I suppose with me as some sort of sacrifice. If
you find this record me of, please tell the Heralds I did not leave them
willingly. I always meant to return. I only wished to connect with my past
this one last time. And now it has stolen my future.
Free Again Part 1
Added Sun Nov 10 16:59:07 2024 at level 51:
I am free! What an incredibly strange series of events, leaving me with even
more questions. But what is important is to be free, to be alive!
I was held prisoner for many days by this shadow cult. They were waiting for
some type of astrological event, best I can tell, in this plane or in the
plane of shadow. And when that day occurred, there was indeed a dark ritual. I
was bound again upon a stone altar, almost as if I was a young girl again and
all of those years were a fever dream, imaginings of a drugged and troubled
mind. The hooded figures surrounded me, chanting in some obscene speech. I
watched helpless, voiceless, as a portal again opened, and a huge, alien
figure emerged. All was as it was in the beginning, except...
This time, I recognized the figure. It was not just an alien presence, a
shadowy form my mind could not quite pin down. It was the very nightwalker
which had held me prisoner for those eons, my torturer in those moments when I
was removed from the collective and within my own body. The very same. It
strode forward from the portal to leer over me, and reached its horrid hand
out to grasp me around the neck. The chanting of the hooded ones intensified.
And the touch of that creature, so horrible, so cold... Then I felt a dam of
sorts burst within me. The memories of my time in captivity, which had become
so dream-like and fragmented, came flooding back into me in full clarity. I
felt each moment, each soul in the collective. The sorrow, hopelessness,
despair we all felt. The snuffing out of each life as they left our minds. It
was like a lead weight, unspeakably large and heavy, pulling me down into an
ocean of sadness. I felt the bitter tears sting my eyes as my will to live
began to falter. Why should I live when they all were taken? What was the
point?
But no! It was NOT all sadness! In those memories were joys as well, moments
of connection. Friendship, understanding, love. My mind desperately reached
for these memories, collecting them to me, assembling them like a life raft.
It meant something to keep these memories safe. THAT was the point. Continuing
to live was not an insult to those who died, it was the greatest honor I could
give them. I focused my thoughts upon this joy, and forced away the rest with
a supreme effort of will. I sent this thought with all of my power to the
shadow creature that held me.
Free Again Part 2
Added Sun Nov 10 17:05:17 2024 at level 51:
"Defiant as always."
It was a single thought-image I heard-saw in my mind in response. And I knew
that voice as well as I know myself. It was Reji. Somehow it was Reji, inside
this creature? I cannot explain it, I only know it was so. I felt then a
searing pain in my neck, as if burned by a glowing brand. The necklace that
had suppressed my voice fell away, shattered, and I screamed out in pain. The
nightwalker recoiled from me then, hate etched into its features. It reached
for me again, but before its hand could touch me, it again recoiled.
The creature issued a guttural curse of some sort, and then turned its rage
instead to those hooded figures. It slaughtered them all, except for one. I
was too stunned to do anything but watch, the side of my neck throbbing where
I had felt the burning sensation. And then the creature stormed back through
its portal, dragging the one hooded one that had been kept alive by the leg.
The man screamed, clawing at the stone floor to get away. The portal snapped
shut, vanished, leaving only the bloody gouges of the man's fingernails on the
floor and a deep silence.
After I freed myself of my bonds, I made my way back to the sunlight and found
I had been kept south of Seantryn near the village of Aturi. With those who
took my prisoner dead, I have no real idea what they had hoped to gain from
this. But I do know that I will be far more guarded in the future. I have
always said that one should not spend too much time looking backward, and this
reinforces how true that is. The past has shaped who I am, and that is enough.
My need to connect with it further is at an end.
The burning I felt on my neck was a blistered welt in the shape of some type
of sigil. I have never seen the symbol before. It healed, but now presents
itself as a raised scar in that exact shape. Even divine healing seems unable
to remove this scar, so I suppose I am stuck with it as a reminder of this
series of events.
On Giving and Receiving
Added Thu Jan 30 20:14:29 2025 at level 51:
Throughout my life, but especially lately, I have come under criticism for
being "too helpful" and "too giving." There is this notion that those who ask
for help are somehow undeserving of receiving it. This is not a notion I
subscribe to. I will help a person who asks, if I am able, and will also seek
out those who do not ask if I am aware of their need. The worst that can
happen is that someone who did not deserve help received it. If I were to not
help instead, the worst that could happen is that someone who did need help
did not receive it. And as someone who was once in need of a great deal of
help myself, that is not a consequence I wish to live with.
When I was freed from the shadow plane, I ran into a world that was no longer
familiar to me. The sight of the sun was maddening after so long in that
living darkness. Colors were foreign to my senses, and the touch of another
living thing would send me into hysterics. I was ranting, little more than a
gibbering mess. And in that vulnerable state, I met people who helped. Many I
do not even recall, such was the state of my mind. Their faces are lost to the
madness that consumed me. But they fed me, they clothed me, they put up with
my unpleasantness and they nursed me back to sanity and health. At first I did
not ask, but as my senses came back to me I did ask for help. I asked from
people who had little to give and who had already given me much, and they gave
more still.
I owe those people more than I could ever repay in this life, and all of them
have now passed out of my life and many of them from this world, onto their
next journeys. But while I cannot repay those kindly souls, I can live by
their example and give of myself as I am able. What is a little time, an item
of value? These days, I need for little myself. I am wealthy and recovered
completely from my ordeal. I would rather give too much than risk not being
there for someone who needs help.
And for my dear friends, there is nothing I would not give. Nothing.
A Crisis
Added Mon Feb 3 19:32:56 2025 at level 51:
This evening has been an eye-opening experience, and not for the better
really. Raveghna, our High Herald, decided to have a "Herald-only event" which
was a version of her usual crisis event, combining dice rolls with
collaborative story-telling, which have tended to be a lot of fun. As a
backdrop for this "crisis," she presented the scenario of her cult's
end-of-the-world prophesy coming to be, and our goal as Heralds was to
safeguard the Eternal Star. But while Raveghna herself was joking and seemed
to be having fun, any attempt on our part to do so was met with disapproval
and consequences within the "event," which took up an extremely long time. In
the end, it was nothing more than her desire to both command attention and
control, enact the casual cruelties she has become all too known for these
days, and waste all of our time. The lesson, in the end, was supposedly that
we need to stay together in the event of a real crisis.
I have always tried to look at Raveghna's qualities and forgive her faults.
That is something I try to do with everyone. We all have faults, but when you
look past them we all have beautiful strengths, talents, and wisdom to impart.
And even though she has tried virtually from the day I met her to pit me
against the other Heralds in some strange contest for her approval, I have
defended her to others and tried my best to support her as our leader. I have
taken on the role of the comforter of those she wrongs, the cheer leader of
those she rejects. And after all of these years, she has gotten worse and
worse. Now every message to the Heralds, or individual Heralds, comes with a
threat of being kicked out of our family. "Do this, or you are no longer a
Herald." She is quite literally holding us hostage to her whims.
This "event" of hers did teach me something, and in some ways exactly what she
sought to teach (supposedly). The Heralds are in crisis, but the crisis is not
some mortal god or deep sea species from without. The crisis is from within
the Heralds. It is a crisis of motivation, exclusion, belittlement... in
short, of leadership. And it illustrated how little regard she truly has for
us. Even in her scenario, she had abandoned us to serve her Paradise Compound.
And yes, we do need to stay together, we need to unify against a leadership
that has poisoned the very well of our family. She does her absolute best to
sabotage us at every turn. Why? I no longer care to guess. I have had enough,
finally. She told me once long ago that I should be plotting her death so I
could be High Herald. While I have no desire for her to die, if that is what
it will take to move the Heralds back to our actual purpose, I am willing to
accept that.