9/8/2997: Onward Toward the Great Unknown

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Tiæejk La’Dwa ab Jujnis 2997

Tonight marks the first night on this mission. It’s enough to note that my stomach continues to churn nervously. Nothing has happened yet, but I still can’t help but suspect.

I had an opportunity to run, to abandon the task at hand this morning. I’m likely to regret that lost opportunity. When I woke up, Kimaris was gone. I dressed, brushed my hair, braided and pinned it in place, washed my face, and ate a meager breakfast before heading back to the stables. I had thought about not showing up considering my companion wasn’t there to enforce me. Yet I felt obligated. I hadn’t said I wouldn’t help and am too much a woman of my word. A bitter habit (now) that my mother instilled in me.

Upon arriving, Bordel greeted the lot of us. Shortly after, almost as though he had always been there, Kimaris appeared. In tow with him were some folk who possibly were a type of guard. Bordel called to them to which they mentioned having a problem with my acquaintance.

“He had slept at the temple of Helms. We need to know if he is affiliated with them.”

“When is that a crime?” I asked. The men gave a smirk and replied, “The Sacred Flame is the only way.”

“If that’s so, then why do you have a temple established for that religion?” I questioned.

“Well, we do not own this town-” they began to explain, but I cut them.

“Then you don’t rule over the people who choose to worship there!” I snapped. It was infuriating seeing these men trying to come and bully my companion.

The men looked at each other, clearly not thrilled by my reproach. “We’ll let you off with a warning this time,” they said before turning on their heels and leaving without another word.

I shook my head before looking to the group and asking, “Are we to go then?”

Within the city walls, we ran into two folk who seemed to know of what Bordel was attempting to accomplish. One was a beggar man while the other was a Gnome. We were passing through the market on our way to the city gates when the beggar stopped us. I had only caught mention of ‘the task you are faced with’ when I began to look about the market. The feeling of wanting to run crept back up and I had hoped to spot something I could disappear to. Yet I knew my desire to leave was my impatience in standing around wasting time.

When we did get going, we only managed to approach the city gates when a Gnome caught our attention. Her name was Gizmo and she seemed to know quite a lot about the cup herself.  I was beginning to think we ought to just hand it off to her to dispose of when she began to mention how there were ten cups total. From there the Gnome explained how all ten cups together granted the collector a single wish. Some eyes lit up at that notion, but Bordel’s remained unmoved.

“But mind you, that is far too much power for any one person to ever have. No one should ever have all the cups,” Gizmo added. I could agreed with her. If the forces of evil, like she had suggested, were to obtain all ten, then that wish made could be disastrous! But just because my own inclinations are of the good variety, it hardly seems fair that those of my similar interest make such a wish for it, too, would infringe upon someone.

As I pondered, I heard the Gnome mention that her God, Bahamut, was collecting the cups for safe keeping.

“But... you just said no one person should ever have all of them.”

“Indeed you are correct, but Bahamut has no plans to use them,” Gizmo responded.

“That may be, but who’s to say your God is honest?” I debated. Looks all around were thrown as I challenged her Deity, but I rushed on before any remarks could be made, “And even if He is honest and benevolent as you believe, what’s to prevent them from being stolen by some other supreme being?”

“Oh, I assure you child that Bahamut’s vaults are well secured.”

“Then might you be able to take us to Him?” Bordel asked.

“Well, I certainly can try. If we head East, there’s a good chance we will find Him.”

I held my tongue, not wanting to debate. It was pointless and for all I cared, I wanted to get along peacefully. Nothing worse in a caravan than that one person who complained or bickered every chance they got.

Tonight I assisted Fernwood with camp preparations. Her wagon was well equipped for a long journey. She made a fine meal with her wares and was kind to share it with all of us. And before we knew it, watches were delegated and bed rolls laid. In another hour I’ll be able to rest myself for I took the first watch.

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9/7/2997: What Did I Get Myself Into? pt. 2

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That night I made my way to the stables out back. I made sure my knife was secured about me, every step loathing my existence as I drew closer to my destination. I rationalized I hadn’t a choice. That my former caravanner was forcing me- but if I was honest, he wasn’t. I was just too scared of him to say no.

I could sense my companion’s approach. The way he breathed and the way my hair prickled on the back of my neck revealed his ominous presence. I didn’t bother to look, but placed my focus on the view before me. It was dark, a single lantern illuminating the stables.

My fingers plucked a few chords and softly I whispered, “lujt roqoin.” A flurry of thoughts came to me, which was good. I could sense five beings close by, one of a female which did wonders for my nerves. The most curious of the thoughts that came to mind was the sense of anger. And not just any anger, the kind that seemed beyond the person and portrayed in a form of pain. They couldn’t escape it.

I slowly turned to look at my traveling companion. He stood close by, his robed form and masked face motionless.

“Are you alright?” I asked. Never had I known the war that was waging in his head. A low growl rumbled from deep within. “Do you have a name?” I pestered. There was a hopefulness that somehow I might be able to reach the person inside. I had once seen something human about him, but it was a glimpse similar to a dream. However in that moment, I didn’t doubt that ounce of humanity I once saw. There was much more to the silent, terrifying being.

Kim-ar-is, he slowly spoke in my mind. With the strain he put into saying his name, I figured that was more than a victory for me. And with that I stopped while I was ahead and returned to focus on the other thoughts about me.

Each mind that I sensed was there for the same purpose Kimaris and I were there: to answer the scribbled flier. As the two of us drew nigh, we could see a Halfling, a Human, some kind of mouse like folk, and another Human. The second one had an air about him that quickly revealed him to be the one who placed the call. He introduced himself as Bordel, which was true. His thoughts were mingled with worry, but he was being honest so far. Actually I think the biggest relief of the whole situation was the fact there was no malicious intent on anyone’s thoughts. The area was flooded with curiosity, rage, and worry.

Bordel withdrew a pipe from his person and asked the group to partake of it. I lifted an eyebrow. Not being a smoker, due to the way I was raised (and a habit I still had no intention of forming) felt slighted that he was requesting of us such an act. There might not have been anything on his fore thoughts to suggest something was amidst, but who was to say the substance wasn’t laced with poisons?

When the pipe came to me, I passed it to Kimaris. He too passed it along. We were the only two who had declined and it made me nervous to say the least, yet at the same time, I mentally dared anyone to make a big deal of it. I had Kimaris on my side.

“To those who partook, I know I can trust,” Bordel spoke. I found that condescending considering our refusal to smoke his pipe was hardly a show of character. The Human then walked up to me and Kimaris, pipe in hand. He glanced at my companion before looking at me and saying, “I would really appreciate it if the two of you would take of my pipe.”

I narrowed my eyes a little. “I don’t understand how puffing on a pipe can identify my character to you,” I replied. The man smiled and his mind lit up as he responded, “I just need you to do this one thing for me.”

All eyes were on me. Every thought curious as to what I would do. Bordel’s mind was calm and inviting. Something in his thoughts suggested that he was extending an invitation and the only way I could obtain it was to partake of the pipe.

With my brows furrowed I snatched the pipe from the Human’s hands and brought the long stem up to my lips. I hesitated as the thoughts of victory and ‘push over’ played on the group's minds. My body didn’t want to do it either, my lips remaining pursed. I did manage to take the faintest of puffs from the pipe, coughing on the little smoke that entered my lungs. Quickly I passed the vile contraption to Kimaris.

“Thank you,” Bordel said to me, clapping a hand on my shoulder. I felt used. I had just given in to the pressure of the crowd... I had given into the silent pressure of Kimaris. My thoughts darkened with my own disappointment for my inability to stand up for myself.

Kimaris’s anger doubled. I looked to him right as he reached out and yanked Bordel up to his face. My companion was at least eight feet tall, and so the Human who had summoned us hung helpless in Kimaris’s grip as he took in a deep, long breath. He then blew the smoke into Bordel’s face before setting him back down.

Our host was undeterred by the aggressiveness of Kimaris. That was good for I worried about his ability to maintain control. The rage his thoughts went into was enough to make anyone in their right mind be afraid. For all I knew, some kind of beat down was soon to take place.

Bordel returned to his post and put the pipe into his pack. He then replaced the item with a cup. This wasn’t any ordinary cup. It was made of scales. I didn’t get a chance to catch what else the Human was thinking as he withdrew the object. My concentration broke with the exchange Bordel and Kimaris had and therefore nothing further than dread did I gather. That was what the Human was in need of. Help to dispose of the cup. The magics of it were too great to just hand it off to some other being and numbers were needed for the unknown danger that loomed about a cup of such evil and power. Because of the nature of the cup, we all were warned that no one was to touch it. Only he would carry the burden.

My head realed. I was not an adventurer. Never wanted to become one and matters involving evil certainly was not my idea of a good time. It was mildly intriguing how curious the others were. The Halfling, Fernwood being her name, and the Human mercenary, Marcus (we did introduce ourselves at one point), were all for helping despite the lack of possible payout. The mouse folk had the best of senses and literally high tailed it out of there. If only I had remained true to myself and not have let Kimaris’s intimidating presence stilled my tongue, perhaps I would be in another caravan by now moving away from Asura. Instead Bordel looked to me and Kimaris and asked if we would help. My companion spoke for us with a hand on my shoulder and a nod of his head.

And so we are to leave in the early morning. I would like to run, but with Kimaris in the corner of the room, I have little choice. It’s moments like this that I desire to call upon Heironious and seek His grace... but chances are I’d be wasting my breath.

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9/7/2997: What Did I Get Myself Into? pt. 1

Rucejk La’Dwa ab Jujnis, 2997

“Thank you for letting me travel with your group, Rueben,” I told my once boss.

“Aye, it was a great pleasure. Your music will be missed. ‘Twas good moral for everyone, all things considered,” he said, paying me fifteen silver pieces. I kept my smile on my face though a flashback of the bandits crossed my mind. I then pulled my hood down over my head and with my lyre clutched in hand, headed into the market of Asura. With money for a few days at an Inn, plus whatever I could make while performing my music, I was confident I’d be able to find another caravan in that time frame.

The capital city was bustling with folk and soon I came to the Drunken Lion. It would have to suffice considering I needed to make what little I had stretch. There was a good amount of folk moving in and out as it was the lunch hour. I walked on in and intuitively spotted the fliers. Actually it was rather impossible to not notice. Immediately upon entering, about ten feet from the entrance was the board, that folk could tack up pretty much whatever they wanted, and it was cluttered with advertisements. It was hard to tell if the Innkeeper was just lazy and didn’t bother to dispose of the expired fliers or if it was a particularly busy week.

I sifted through the papers, looking for keywords that would indicate a caravan being put together. As I did that, one flier caught my eye. I wish I hadn’t taken a moment to look at the poorly scribbled note. Some guy was in need of help and asked any and all who were interested to meet him at night by the stables. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled at the thought of going. It seemed too shady.

Promptly I began to peruse the other fliers, but I didn’t get very far into my search when I felt a firm hand rest on my shoulder. I whipped my head to look at the masked face of an acquaintance. Automatically I put a smile on my face to hide the fact my stomach was knotting and my heart was racing. My hand clutch the lyre more firmly and my legs yearned to move away. Let alone my mind loudly wondering why he was there! I had thought I would never see the humanoid again after our travels with Rueben.

With my shoulder firmly in my fellow caravaner’s grasp, he pointed back to the scribbled note I had dismissed. I looked to him and watched the childlike face bob up and down.

“Me?” I questioned. He then gestured between the two of us. “We?” I corrected. Again the childlike face bobbed. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream at the guy and ask him why the hell would I run off into the dark with him to meet some random guy? I, a woman, was traveling alone and had more than enough common sense to know a bad situation when I saw one. Rape and death were the likely outcomes if I went with.

Yet on that same note... if I refused the masked figure, would he unleash the fury I saw him unveil with the bandits?

I groaned internally as I realized the awful situation I was in. Perhaps I was being too nice and trusting, but I nodded in agreement.

My fingers nervously reached out and began plucking at my lyre. I needed to play and calm my nerves. And that is what I did once I got the Innkeepers approval to perform for coin.

With my back to the far wall, sitting on a chair, a single cup near my feet, I began to let my fingers get lost in the strings. Soon I forgot about my strange companion, the folk that stared in my direction, and the note that ultimately could be my doom.

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The Hag of Kharn

Evelyn Penn

The Brewing Pot at 4th Block W, sect. 2

Lomisc, Westlijam

Ojtejk La’Dhroo ab Baernis 2996

Dearest mother,

First and foremost I am alive and well! Can’t say it’s by my own wits that this manages to be, but alas, luck was on my side with this adventure I’m to tell. I’m sure you’ve heard of Kharn, but if you haven’t it is an Orc town that about a month ago reopened its borders. It’s kind of quaint if you enjoy swamps. Alas I was set on heading that way because I was curious to meet with the brutish race.

Hmm, not sure I can quite call them that any more. They are warm and inviting as many of the toughest looking men I’ve come across. Looks can be quite deceiving as you’ve told me time and time again, and right you are, as always.

Anyways mother, I have been wanting better sport for arm wrestling and thought the Orc kind might be a better challenge. And so I made way, hiring onto a caravan with a few fellows who expressed similar interest of wanting to explore Kharn.

Oh my, one of them is a half Orc, named Blacmeg, who is more proper than most humans! He kept calling me ‘Mademoiselle.’ I don’t remember being so formally addressed since the Knight Balls in Lomisc when I was part of the guard! But he was of good company, as was the silver Dragonborn, Balasar.

I wish I could say the travels to Kharn were rather uneventful, but alas on the second day, some idiot suggested a short cut through the swamp. I had the right of mind to reprimand him of such a stupid idea, but alas I was convinced after seeing that there was a good sized clearing to cross over.

Sure enough, we came to a very dense bit of over growth. But Balasar blasted Christmas (ya know that human holiday those Eathains talk about), all over it and Blacmeg began making quick work of the petrified foliage.

Then the buzzing began. Three or four  sturge nests were disrupted! I had the quick of mind to whip my torches out and utilize them for killing the swarms. Oh! Do you recall the fire eaters around Lomisc’s fountain? I totally did a move like that! I was able to readily get a flask of ale and managed to blow fire on a handful of sturges! It was quite exhilarating. I may look into specializing in fire eating from now on.

We all walked away mostly unscathed. One had got my shoulder, but you know me. Tough as nails and managed just fine against the little blighter. And though the ‘short cut’ wasn’t as simple to get through, it did prove to quicken our travels. We shaved a whole day off and by early afternoon, we arrived in Kharn.

I said my farewells to my boss and got paid for the work provided. And did I mention that I hired myself out for chicken shit? I keep doing that. I’m use to betting silver on my arm, but forget when I’m about my actual trade I’m worth my weight in gold! But alas, ten silver is better than none.

Blacmeg and Balasar both went their way, the half Orc wanting to look into his culture more. I, however, set my eyes to finding a tavern.

The first batch of Orcs I saw was a grouping of three who were clearly headed somewhere. With evening around the corner, I suspected they’d be heading to a tavern themselves. I warmly called out to them asking if they knew where I could get a drink and make some sport with my arm. You should have seen the look on their faces mom! The tallest of the bunch, and that’s saying something considering these three Orcs were comparable to the Goliaths, gave me such a sour look and dismissed me with a good spit on the ground. So I continued to follow. That only pissed the guy off more. About a hundred paces further and he turned around on me so fast, reminding me that it was rude to follow. I couldn’t help but smile and simply reminded him that I was looking for the tavern and to have a little sport.

“If I arm wrestle you, and win, you must leave this town!” he barked. I accepted his challenge, unable to keep my smile from brightening. I mean, there were serious butterflies I was so excited. I will confess that I was mildly hesitant once I squared off with him. My hand barely came halfway up his arm! He literally was nothing but muscle and sinew! I guess it was probably the closest feeling to fear as you’ve described it. But I did not let my head talk me out of it. I had come to try my arm among the Orcs and here was one taking me on.

My he wrenched my arm good, but the initial surprise wore off fast and I spared my hand from hitting the box we were using. I then twisted his thumb just so and fought to bring him back. I might as well been pushing a blind donkey how strong and stubborn his arm was. BUT! I could feel it giving in ever so slightly! That kept me going and slowly I pushed his arm up. Though the whole ordeal was merely twenty to thirty seconds, it was more effort than I could hold out on and had just thought about giving up when the Orc let go and stated, “Pah! You’re not worth my time!” He stood up so fast that I was left in shock momentarily. Had he given up? Was he really not going to let me try? Did I still have to leave town?

One of his companions approached me and quietly stated, “That’s about as close as you’ll get to Oric saying you bested him. The tavern is just over there. Tell the barkeep Oric owes you a drink.” The Orc then went and caught up with the other two.

Oh the pride I took in that win mother! I’d say it was comparable to the day I came home with the promotion to Lieutenant. I managed to wait until the three Orcs were well out of sight before letting myself relish in my victory. Quickly I directed my steps to the tavern and right away requested my drink.

Now this tavern was quite damper. For mid day, there was only two other patrons; one large Orc and another that looked to be mixed race. I decided I’d try and liven the place up and took my drink over to the large guy.

He too was in a sour mood. After offering him a chance to try my arm, he pouted and called me a liar! Said Oric never loses (he having heard me tell the barkeep who owed me the drink) and surely a puny she Human couldn’t manage such a feat. So I told him he ought to have a go at my arm and see if I was lying. Thankfully I won that round easy enough.

The Orc then introduced himself as Gunter. I asked about the low down on the seemingly empty town. He mentioned that since opening the borders their shaman and children have gone missing. The children have trickled away, more and more as the month went on. I mentioned that I was mighty sorry to hear of such misfortune, but that I’d certainly offer a hand if I could. He shrugged and suggested if I wanted work I ought to check with their leader, Dirk the Tidebreaker.

Knowing me, I’m sure you could guess what I did next. The leader’s hut was decently sized and guarded out front. I recognized some gear as I came closer and knew I’d have to forfeit my own weapons before joining Balasar and Blacmeg.

I joined the two guys as they were discussing the state of the town. The shaman had urged that they keep the borders closed, but Dirk was earnest that by opening trade up with the rest of the world their simple town would boom. Instead it happened to backfired.

So we were hired on to investigate, though thoroughly warned of the likeliness that we may not return. We first examined the shaman’s hut, but to be honest, there wasn’t much to glean from it other than the fact stuff was piled up in the middle. Like maybe she was gonna make a makeshift bonfire... but that seemed ridiculous and therefore I kept my words to myself. I did suggest having an Orc come check it out, but Balasar informed me that none of the Orcs dared come near the hut. It seemed counter productive. I hadn’t a clue what would be out of place for their town. For all I could say  the shaman was clutter-headed and disorganized.

I was able to convince them that we ought to at least have an Orc accompany us just to make sure we started the search in the correct section of the swamp. With that, we headed back to the tavern (initially to recruit Gunter) and had a merry time. I was about to take Blacmeg on in an arm wrestling match when I noticed Oric’s return with one of his companions. I wanted to give him another chance at besting me, but he promptly declined and that was when I noticed the missing Orc and Oric’s own grim face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, snapping from my overtly merry self.

“We lost Nor to the swamp,” he informed me. I sincerely don’t understand why I pitied the guy, but I’m sure it had everything to do with the fact I had bruised his pride earlier that day, so it just seemed unfair that he lost a friend too. I asked if he would help me and my companions to find Nor in the morning, for we were hoping to explore the swamp for the cause of Kharn’s misfortune. Oric agreed and all of us together drank to Nor’s name, I firmly optimistic that we’d find the guy alive.

I then had my wrestling match with Blacmeg. Sadly I had one too many drinks. I remember grabbing on to his hand firmly but suddenly I was looking at my own pressed to the table. The Orcs standing about, lead by Oric, jeered at me, earning myself the nickname ‘Limp Wrist Lin!’ ‘Twas a humbling moment to say the least.

The next morning dawned brighter than usual, Blacmeg next to me, and my head pounding. I pushed the rascle half Orc away and got some water. I then greeted Balasar with a hug and I must say, if you ever come across a silver Dragonborn, DON’T HUG THEM! Bloody cold they are! But the hangover was cured right quick.

After dressing and knotting my hair up, I returned to find Blacmeg whetting my swords. We had betted if I won that he’d be stuck prepping my armor and weapons for a week. He confessed to having tried my arm at an unfair advantage and so wanted to make up for it. I must say, he’s certainly more honorable than past company I’ve fallen among, but I shan't mention them. I’m sure I’ve worried you plenty as it is.

Oric was waiting outside for us and was quick in directing us toward the swamp. I tell you we had only been gone an hour or two when the Orc went missing! It was insane! I had half hoped that they were just unobservant about the going ons around them, but there we were, being very keen to our surroundings and voila! Oric was gone!

We called for him for a minute when our cries were answered by these small amphibious like creatures! They had some seriously sharp teeth. And to make matters worse, some ape like monstrosity came lumbering over. Thankfully my swords were fresh and with the help of Balasar’s halberd and Blacmeg’s rage we made quick work of the vermin. But here’s the creepy part mother; the creatures we killed looked suspiciously like the Orc’s that had gone missing. It then began to sink in that the shaman might be the culprit! My determination to solve the mystery heightened and I urged my companions along.

It took roughly another thirty minutes to find a hut. We walked inside and discovered the witch, or what we thought was the shaman, sitting in a chair. Lordy how she taunted us! “I’ve been with you the whole time!” “Your efforts are futile!” “The Orcs brought this upon themselves when they opened the border!” “Stupid race!” “They will pay!” and, “You won’t win!”

I was right mother! I was right! The shaman was behind all of it! We tried to attack her, but that was when we realized she was nothing but an illusion! We rushed out of the hut, listening to her cackles echo across the swamp. Another hour passed and we come across another building. This time I was more wary about the structure. I touched everything just to make sure it was real.

With a thorough search of the hut, we discovered a trap door. I was highly suspicious of it for it revealed a basement that from the outside you wouldn’t have suspected. I used a rope as a tether to the upstairs. In the basement was many cells and in the cells were various stages of transformed Orcs. Indeed I was right. The small amphibious looking ones were the Orc children and the adults were the ape like creatures.

It was in the basement that I uncovered a side of me I didn’t know I had. Blacmeg began to proceed with executing the partially morphed Orcs. I grabbed his arm to stop the great ax he wielded, expressing to him that the ‘abominations’ would likely revert back to their original form if we found the hag and killed her. Balasar however backed the half Orc up. I watched as the first child was decapitated.

I stormed back up the stairs, following the rope I held to, and knocked the small table that was in the room over. Papers, books, pens, and various jars clattered to the floor, but it did little to dampen the fire that itched at the corner of my eyes. I should have stopped them mother! I should have! But part of me suspected that they might be right... yet I couldn’t bring myself to side with them. For if I was correct, it would mean the lost villagers would be on their hands, not mine! I had sworn to help Oric and his village and by killing the Kharn Orcs in their mutated state seemed counterintuitive.

Outside the hut I cursed at the witch using language I typically reserve for the beastly of men. The anger that coursed through me was so raw and pure that I lost it. A hot tear escaped my eye as the hag answered my call with a sharp knife to my back. “I’ve been here the whole time,” she cackled in my ear.

Quickly I whirled around to find myself alone. A hand to the wound revealed that I indeed was stabbed, but I had to act quick. The laughs faded back into the hut and through the basement. I ran back down as Balasar and Blacmeg finished the last prisoner. I bolted past them and searched the dungeon. The idea of lighting the hut on fire danced across my mind, but I ignored it.

In the very back of the damned place I spotted a black, shimmery patch of wall. Without a second thought or hesitation that I was about to walk through an illusion, I made my way through the obsidian film. A sickly cold encased my body for the briefest of moments, but as I opened my eyes I found I was in a larger room. It was here I could see just how many villagers had been taken hostage! Dozens of children and adults were in cages. However my eyes fixated upon the two crosses before me. Oric and his companion, Nor, who informed me I had bested the Orc, hung from them.

I broke into a sprint as I saw the hag stand between them, doll in hand and a dagger in the other. As I made my way, the vilest of grins etched across the green skin of the witch. She drove the dagger into Nor’s chest and cut out his heart! I swear I lost apart of myself in that moment. I felt hollowed, like my stomach had been removed. I had failed! I questioned if I should bother for a half a second, but my vendetta cried for the hag’s blood! I pumped my legs all the harder, whipping my swords from their sheathes, and closed in on the witch.

The hag used her magics, and Nor’s blood, to unleash the children, who promptly swarmed me and my companion (they having followed swiftly after me). With her spell in action, the witch attacked me with her razor like claws. I would have thought she’d continued to eviscerating me as two of the children clung to my arms, but she backed away. Likely she was preparing another spell.

I then heard Oric take a staggered breath. My eyes locked with his and my heart ached. I don’t know why mother, but somehow I bonded with that Orc and seeing him in such pain, and knowing I failed his friend, it hurt. And don’t say it was love. I doubt I’ll ever be capable of such a thing.

Oric looked at me and begged for me to make it quick. To end the hell he and his town were in. With vigor renewed, I shook the children off of me, flinging one ten feet away. Immediately I charged the witch. I sunk both of my swords in deep, disrupting whatever she was attempting to conjure.

Yet she breathed and it was here I thought my end was nigh mother. I looked into her cold eyes and could feel every fiber of my being scream it’s mortality. The blood was hot, the sweat sticky, and my heart raced with it’s strange emotions.

As the hag hung from my swords, some kind of spectral hands formed and wrapped around my neck. But she did not succeed in killing me, if you couldn’t tell. Blacmeg suddenly was by my side in full raging glory and ended the terror! Normally I would have sent my sword in for the last hit, but with the half Orc raging over the corpse, I turned my attention to Oric.

I sprinted to the crucified Orc, pulled out a health potion, and gave it to him. I know I’m not suppose to do that when they are still impaled, but I wasn’t sure if he’d survive the ordeal of getting off the cross. Keeping him alive was what mattered.

Once Oric was freed from his bounds, I gave him a hearty hug. Again I was surprised by the emotion I was overcome with and had to work to regain my composure. In fact, as we all sat there catching our breaths, healing what we could, Balasar blessed the place. It was one of the more profound things and likely because my emotions were high. But the good thing is the hag can never come back. No spirit, no nothing can corrupt that place again.

We mourned the loss of Nor, then we went about returning the children and other villagers to their home. Once more my intuition prevailed. The Orcs who had been partially morphed had reverted to their true selves. No ill will was held against my two companions, but I’m still thankful their blood isn’t on my hands.

So here it is, a couple days later... maybe more. Everything is kind of blurring together with all the merriment that’s been made. One thing I’m sure of is Oric and I will likely be long time friends, as well as Balasar and Blacmeg.

Oh, something interesting too about the silver Dragonborn. His scales are now platinum! I believe he’s a follower of Bahamut and I must say, he received quite an honor. Alas, Balasar has continued on his way. I wished him well in his travels and here’s wondering if our paths will ever cross again.

Blacmeg however is stuck with me for at least three more days. I bested him fair and square the night of our victory and now he’s my squire for the week! You’d think I’d have harbored ill feelings toward him and what happened in the hag’s dungeon, but alas the half Orc was doing what he thought was right and I can’t condemn a guy for that. He did try to apologize, but I wouldn’t have it. There’s nothing that can be done about it anyways.

Alright mother, I hope all is well with you and the shop. I do miss you and hope to return one of these days. It has been too long, but perhaps this ghastly long letter will pass the time a little quicker until we meet again.

Forever and always,

Lin Hydeen

Chapter 10: The Condemnation of Alysin van Delia

Chapter 10 The Condemnation of Alysin van Delia

Delia had us walk north, away from Taibujlon and Lomisc. Neither of us knew where we were headed, but for now, anywhere that was away from the horror left by Delia was better. However I had to wonder if there would ever truly be a place in which Alysin would be able to stay and be happy. With the personalities that trigger, I worried that no one would understand and therefore she will always be at the mercy of those personalities and the havoc they can potentially wreck.

We walked in silence until the sun began to set. At this point Delia removed our invisibility and started a fire. We ate some jerky she had in her bag since thoughts of hunting were far from her mind. As Delia made herself comfortable on the ground, I could hear her thinking about tomorrow and what we would do.

Are we to be in hiding for the rest of our lives now?  I asked. Delia looked at me as though my question was unreasonable.

Jiji, we’ll be just fine. The next town we’ll be able to start new and this time we’ll do a better job at not drawing attention, I snorted my disagreement which irritated Delia, and why do you think not?

Delia, you know it is practically impossible for Alysin to go unnoticed. You and the other 5 personalities seem to be vying to protect her. I’m sorry, but as long as each of you keep taking over, there’s no way she can live normally. I then reflected on all the triggers for each personality; Sin would always come when she was physically hurt badly.  Van whenever she was humiliated or deeply embarrassed. The personalities that personified the cat and Alys were curses but the only reason I can fathom her being able to break free of them had to be from her mind splitting to supplement them. Therefore who knows when they will appear. The same goes for Aly. She manifested, but would it just be Eroyhind who now will trigger her? And Delia, what would trigger her?

Knowing my thoughts Delia declared, I’ll always be back if Alysin’s life is in danger. I will not let this girl die in the hands of inferior folk!  and with that her back was too me and trying to drift to sleep. It was oddly touching. She wasn’t just saying it, Delia was devoted to Alysin like I was. She wanted the best for her, though her tactics thus far have been devastatingly forceful and vengeful. But despite how indifferent Delia was to the fact she just had taken two lives, I still curled up beside her for the night.

The sun was warm as it rose high in the sky. I stretched lazily and rolled on my back, leaning into Alysin, who I knew would be in control. I could feel her body was stiff, her breathing controlled and soon her thoughts came flooding in. She was pondering about the events that took place yesterday and now was trying to figure out whether parts of it were just a dream.

Jiji? I heard Alysin call, her voice empty and ominous.

Yes? I unwillingly answered. I began to sit up so I could see her face. I then saw the wet tear running across her face and into her ears.

Did I really kill my father yesterday? She finally asked. It pained me to deliver the sad news, so all I managed to do was repeat myself.

Yes. It came out defeated. Like it was I who had been caught. I watched Alysin purse her lips together trying to keep control of her emotions. She was trying to understand the ‘why’ behind herself doing it. She saw every detail of what she did, though it seemed dream like.

Alysin, it technically wasn’t your fault, I began,  you have... How do I even explain this. I huffed a sigh before plunging into the truth, You have many personalities trying to protect you from the harshness of reality. Unfortunately they all don’t share your kind of thoughts and feelings.

Alysin went rigid. She looked at me and thought about what I said. She was trying to piece it together and to see if she accepted it. She then slowly began to shake her head.

Jiji, she said, not believing my words though she could see perfectly what I’ve seen and heard from her various personalities over the years, it still was these hands that killed my father and Mayrid. Sure I should be able to control my own body, she paused here and sat up. She looked at her hands and just continued to shake her head wishing that denying the situation would make it go away. She then added, I guess I am incapable of doing such a thing...

Alysin stood and put her pack on. She hoisted me to her shoulder and began to head back the way we came.

Why are we going back?

I’m a murderer. I must turn myself in.

That’s suicide!

Well I obviously can’t keep myself from kill my own family, what will hold me back from just any ordinary person Jiji!?

At that I kept my thoughts to myself. And it was the longest day yet. Alysin may not believed that she had multiple personalities, but she knew that there were things she did and she couldn’t explain her reasoning for doing them. She feared greatly that she would only add to the evil that seemed to be going around the world at the time already.

Seeing the town form back into view as the sun began its descent was  haunting. Only death laid in the future now and the one person I loved dearly would be gone from me in a manner of days. Sometimes I despised how good she was, yet how much better would this world be if there were more who thought and acted like Alysin (not including her other personalities).

Alysin  placed me under invisibility and walked right up to a guard and identified herself as the murderer of Davin and Mayrid van Delia. Immediately she was taken into custody. This was quite the scene for the town to witness. The guard knew why he was placing her under arrest. However the rest of the town folk were split. Some were dismayed that someone such as her would be placed under arrest while others remembered she was the last person to enter Davin's home and was missing when their bodies were found dead.

Her bag was confiscated and she was put into a prison cell.

No one told her anything. For all we knew, she was to be in the small 6 by 6 room for the rest of her life. A few days passed there. Alysin would peer out the window from time to time to get a glimpse of what the 1 foot square would reveal. It would seem the town was still a buzz trying to figure out what was to happen to Lomisc little star.

On the 3rd day locked up, there was finally someone who came. As the door opened, Alysin looked into the eyes of her brother.

“Othello!” Alysin said joyfully in disbelief. She was to her feet in an instant and wrapped her arms around Othello in a few bounds. He seemed hesitant, yet at the same time relieved to find his sister.

“I came as soon as I heard. Care to explain what’s going on just so I can make sure I’m not hearing lies.” Othello asked, jumping right into his reason there with no other warm remarks. Immediately Alysin sobered up. She leaned against the wall as the weight of the truth filled  her thoughts.  How could she hurt her brother like this?

“I’m sorry Othello,” Alysin whimpered. Othello looked dumbfounded at his sister as though she had just spoken jibbish.

“You couldn’t have...”

“I honestly can’t explain why I did it. It had been so long since I had seen father. I just wanted to come home after people in Lomisc began to try and harm me-”

“So you tried to come back to someone who use to hurt you before you left?” Othello whispered incredulously.

“I just thought the time gone might have changed him,” Alysin said lamely.

“It was probably the best thing you did for yourself, leaving that is,” Othello informed, “He was consumed in getting you. He figured you would come back, but when you never did, he seemed determined to find you and teach you a lesson,” Othello now came to sit by his sister. He held his head in his hands as though the weight of it was too much to bare.

“I guess, I’m also sorry I never was the best brother in defending you. But still, how is it that 3 years later you return home and kill our parents? As much as I thought you deserved to fight back, I know you loved our father and Mayrid despite all the mean things they did to you,” Othello pressed on trying to understand. Alysin shook her head wishing to avoid the answer. Othello gave her the time to think though it didn’t matter because Alysin had already spoken the truth.

“Alysin... did dad fire a gun at you?” he asked. She gave him a distant look and nodded her head. “Hmm,” Othello continued, “They found a bullet hole in the wall and the window shattered. The guards were wondering if you were threatened.”

“Othello. Why did you come here?” Alysin asked, changing the direction of the conversation.

“To get answers. Hearing people say you turned yourself in for murdering our parents seemed insane. But the guards looked at the scene and told me what they suspected happened. It appears that quite possibly you were threatened. But the thing that has them talking is the torture that was done to our father. And to be honest, I know you did them. Especially when seeing his burnt hand.”

Alysin was shaking with silent sob. She felt so foolish for doing such a deed. She wished her brother hadn’t come though it was good to see him after so many years. In all she was a withering ball of emotional pain that seemed unending.

“You know you’re sentenced to death Alysin unless you can testify that it was self defense that you murdered them,” Othello informed.

“Othello, I can’t. I don’t know why I did it. I just have the memories of doing it. Yes father shot at me, but as the guards said, he was tortured! It's not self defense when I was able to make him submit under my will!" Alysin nearly shouted. She braced her head with her hands as she continued, "It was as though I hadn’t been in control the whole time, yet it was me. I was there! I was torturing my father!” Alysin began to grow hysterical, “There have been many times in my life that I’ve done things that don’t make sense and now I’m here with the awful memories of killing my father and stepmother!”

It was here that the doors opened up once more. In walked the Chief Paladin, adorned in his fine armor. The three of us looked on at the Chief and the others outside the door with questioning eyes.

“That’s enough ma’am. Come this way,” he said to Alysin. With that he escorted her out to the town square where the whole town seemed to be gathered and waiting for news as to Alysin’s fate. Alysin stood on a platform that raised her and the Chief above the crowd. Her hands were chained now and the guard held tight to them as though she were ready to flee for her life.

“Citizens, it has been made known that Alysin van Delia is responsible for the torture and murder of her father and stepmother, Davin and Mayrid van Delia,” some of the crowd gasped in shock and surprise. The news they had feared to be true, was true. “However, Alysin van Delia may be innocent if times weren’t what they are,” he let silence fall among everyone to let the words he said sink in. Of course everyone looked to him wondering what he could possibly mean by ‘innocent.’ He then pressed on.

“We have every reason to believe Alysin van Delia is marked by the dark mark that we know to be plaguing our world,” it now dawned on the crowd. To them, it was the perfect explanation. How was it Alysin, the sweet girl from Lomisc who was a great entertainer could possibly have done such a horrid act? Her being marked would be the best answer. Possession obviously would be an easy explanation to understand.

“For this, we sentence Alysin van Delia to death so as to prevent the spreading of this mark,” the chief guard finished. The crowd immediately turned on Alysin with cheers that they evil would be exterminated from the midst of them. Some yelled at her and threw rocks in her direction. Being marked, she went from pitied to hated.

“Wait!” someone yelled out. An elf pushed forward dressed in pale colors, “wait just a moment! I can’t sense any presence of evil. How can you be so sure she’s marked? I would like proof of this!” The elf demanded.

“Barrendar,” the Chief Paladin said respectfully, “me and my soldiers heard Alysin confessing to her brother, with descriptions that go hand in hand with one of being marked and possessed,” he defended himself. Barrendar looked at Alysin then back the the chief guard.

“But have you searched her?” The Chief, now feeling embarrassed for being called out, answered grudgingly, “No.” The crowd, who was determined to accept Alysin as marked, began to debate amongst themselves saying 'It is the only logical explanation for her!' 'And why would she kill her parents otherwise?' 'Where is the proof?' 'She's still a murderer marked or not!' and so on.

“Barrendar?” Alysin spoke over the buzz of the crowd. Immediately the crowd went quiet, all wanting to hear what Alysin had to say. I had forgotten how much she had been crying.  Her eyes were very red and puffy and any hope drained from her body. The chief guard and elf looked toward her, “I know what I did. And like I told my brother, I can’t explain why. I just know I did it and I hate that. That’s honestly all I can say about the murder of my parents.”

Barrendar looked at Alysin, studying her. It was he who now seemed to understand where the guard was coming from, but he seemed troubled by no proof of the mark either.

“I see what you mean now chief...” Barrendar began. He thought for a moment longer, “it seems ungodly for us to kill her... yet all the evidence suggest that it must be done. What do you propose?” Now the Chief thought. Then I understood. Alysin wasn't being tried for murder, she was being tried as though she was marked. It didn't matter if she killed her parents for being marked was the greater crime, and with her inability to explain why she did it was evidence enough to prove she was. The Chief straightened to his full height and looked over the crowd that waited to hear the final verdict.

“Citizens, on this day Alysin van Delia is condemned to Dhorae d’Aman, where she will be executed for the murder of her parents Davin and Mayrid van Delia. She will be taken at dawn tomorrow and in 7 days time executed  for her crime.”

The town folk cheered. How grateful they were about the evil they thought was before them would be leaving. How unfortunate that no one but myself was able to  understand the depth to who Alysin was. She definitely wasn’t a murderer. Delia yes, but not Alysin. I knew that they weren’t murdering an innocent person, but yet they were, for like I said, Alysin was not a murderer.

Yet as I pondered these things and was burdened down with the sorrow of me and my person dying, she looked to the sky and smiled, as though this was exactly what she had wanted. I suppose if I thought about it, my time too was coming to an end, cat year wise. And as terrible as it was to accept right then, I figured Alysin would finally find peace within herself in the hands of death.

TO BE CONTINUED IN ANOTHER STORY, AT ANOTHER TIME.