One nundine has passed since i lodged in onothera. After my last entry, during my nap i managed to send a message in the dreaming to aunt cyn, the iranis, and mathis. Initially only aunt cyn replied, assuring me that all of the iranis, including ardos, were safe. She said also that both blades, dragon's reach and the one radi had started to show me, had been safely recovered even though the ward on the earth guild had been broken··· she supposed that the «vornae» had respect for the fact that it was a house of healing, not violence, and left its treasures be. Lastly she told me that she would have to come to onothera herself soon since there was a lot she didn't understand, and she wanted to speak with baron vigilance.
Neither she nor anyone else said anything about me joining them at mathis' tower. I was not sure whether this was because they did not want me there (unlikely but possible), they did not consider i would be safe there (more likely) or would not have been able to contribute much while i was there (super likely because i have my doubts about my own usefulness), or perhaps they truly didn't know whether i could get there or not. Regardless, despite pangs of loneliness and a faint sting from not being encouraged to join my small remaining «family», in truth i had already resigned myself to a sort of self-imposed exile.
I had already recognised a pattern that had developed in my life since coming out of the unhindered lands. There in the taiga, i knew the behaviours of the animals that roamed its wylds and i knew when and when not to approach a creature in need. But here in eastlands, i have not taken the time to make that same understanding of the people, which are infinitely more complex and prone to psychological behaviours that don't occur to creatures, like alliances of convenience, backstabbing, and invasion of territory when it is only coveted rather than necessary. I had thought, probably foolishly, that i could rely wholly on the virtue of «being there for my family» and everything would work out right. With confidence i can state i have never been more wrong in my life. It has been past time for a hard, painful look at my function, my duty, my reason for being where i am.
I wasn't given much time to take that hard look. Aunt cyn had not been kidding; she had arrived in onothera first thing the next morning, though even by then i had already left the city and gone out to the wylder again. Not far from the city limits, but far enough out to listen and whisper and commune with the fauna outside the artifice of the capitol. It was the only part of my daily routine that i could still accomplish, and the only place i found peace of mind and solace, even while simultaneously thinking how useless a skill it was in the face of the siege we were all under now.
In the evening i returned for dinner at the kyngeshead, the inn where i had ended up staying. As naomi had suggested, my status as an adventurer was enough to be given free board and two meals a day, which was all i required. I took my stew gratefully out to the green grass on the shady side of the building, and ate slowly while continuing -- out of habit -- to listen with my ears and my heart to the distant bird songs and squirrel chatter. I was only a quarter way through the bowl when up walked aunt cyn! with her hands full of parchments, on her way back to her forgotten hope orphange from the baronial house, nonchalantly asking «does the wind have any news today, nephew?»⁽¹⁾
After a brisk but careful embrace, she had me resume my seat and joined me (a barmaid bringing her food as well) to inquire after my health. The irony! I quickly assured her it was her health, and those of our friends, that concerned me, and i was glad she had told me of their safety. During our conversation i asked her about the word she had used, «vornae», and she confirmed that it was a term for dark elves, one that was perhaps particular to wayside but count ko considered himself a vornae as well. We spoke about whether this siege would progress into all-out war, and how that would change our lives. In spite of my obvious doubts she assured me i was still «one of my strongest guardians» -- and in response to my dubious look and dry rebuttal, she reminded me as well that «strength and prowess do not determine a guardian - heart and willingness do.»⁽¹⁾
Eventually she retired, but not immediately back to mathis' tower··· she was going to be staying in onothera to assuage the fears of the children at her orphanage, and would probably be back and forth between there and the baronial house for a while. I let her know i was going to be remaining in onothera, echoing what i had recorded earlier in this journal that i felt it more appropriate to remain here in reflection and preparation, rather than to reunite with everyone at the tower in the same previous state of over-eager uselessness. I worded it differently, of course. She inquired if i needed anything before departing, and i actually took the time to think on it before answering her no (which i would have answered anyway, but at least this time i was being sensible rather than dismissive).
That wasn't the last time i have seen aunt cyn this nundine, but it was certainly the longest conversation we had. She had duties of her own to attend to, and so did i.
But where her duties were based on her connexions to vigilance and ko and mathis and the adventurers, and her high station, mine are quieter and more personal. I go to the libraries to try to get a foundation of the laws of the land, the natures of the racial cultures, the histories of the wars. I know i've only just started, but i am woefully displeased with how little i comprehend. I continue to spend middays just outside the palisade, but made a point on marţi morning to locate a well-camouflaged spot for permanent use, and further obscure it with branches and debris so that only the wild animals can find me. There i commune with primarily birds, who perch around its ring and warble tidings of valbrough. At night the vornae still roam, looking for anyone trying to sneak back, but the few forays my friends have made are always wisely during the day, when the vornae are gone and the horrors are more sparse.
My other concern was improving my battle usability. Although naomi had offered to be my teacher on market days, i knew that she was extremely busy with count ko (she was another that, although i saw her at least every other day, it was always brief and usually just in passing). So i have been trying on my own to keep in mind all of the methods she taught me -- watching my stance, keeping my knees loose and my elbows down, not creating an opening to my torso when i block to the side. It's a lot harder without an opponent to try and test me, and tree trunks are terrible substitutes (especially since i have to try and turn my blades to the blunt side to avoid dulling the edges). But the repetition is (hopefully) helping me somewhat.
To avoid relying wholly on my limited knifework, i continue to study the celestial arts. There are spells to cause damage, such as stone and lightning and ice bolts, but also spells to incapacitate or disarm opponents or shatter their weapons (the latter would have been useful against the spearman), and spells to protect people or places. The celestial master who i spoke with on the ninth of the month taught me the basics of celestial memory casting up to the fifth tier, but in my independent practise i am only comfortable with first and second tier spells, and just barely can manage one third tier spell per day. The old impetuous me would say i would save that spell for a shatter in case i could get revenge. The newer, very slightly more thoughtful me can see the advantage of building a wall of force, or binding a target, rather than shattering one item and risking that my opponent could have another weapon.
So in this new pattern my dăți have gone. As we all adjust to our new lives - whether we be adventurers, nobles, traders, travellers, or civilians - the inevitable looming wall of change creeps over us like a fog, in spite of the relatively sunny weather. I hear in short and secondhand of what the residents of valbrough are accomplishing, through aunt cyn and naomi and the birds; i try to better my mind with knowledge, my body with combat, and my spirit with spellwork; and i commune and meditate, trying to push guilt and pain and regret from my mind while trying to emulate the patient perseverance of the earth itself.
This afternoon during my meditation i was in receipt of a message in the dreaming from radi. He explained that he was starting to explain how he came to have stolen the sword from wayside while attempting to fix their waymaker network, and had been planning on giving me that sword. But he and ardos had (valid) concerns about my disregard for my own safety and that giving me the sword might be putting it back in danger, so he wanted to be able to sit down and talk for a good long while before we returned to the subject of the sword.
I «told» radi in reply, with absolute certainty, that i completely agreed with his and ardos' assessment··· that i did not trust myself to carry anything on behalf of anyone else until i had become better accustomed the dangerous life of adventuring and developed the sense of discernment that they already possessed, and that i might decline the sword in any case to pursue the path of the whisperers over the path of the guardians. He has not yet responded again but given that it lacks two ghurries to the mid-night, he might not be asleep again yet. There also might not be anything else to say, for now. I can only hope my response was a worthy one in radi's eyes.
(1) "June 11 - Reunion," in-between game scene written by Annette Smith (Cyn) and Taed Price (Ilarion)
I wasn't given much time to take that hard look. Aunt cyn had not been kidding; she had arrived in onothera first thing the next morning, though even by then i had already left the city and gone out to the wylder again. Not far from the city limits, but far enough out to listen and whisper and commune with the fauna outside the artifice of the capitol. It was the only part of my daily routine that i could still accomplish, and the only place i found peace of mind and solace, even while simultaneously thinking how useless a skill it was in the face of the siege we were all under now.
In the evening i returned for dinner at the kyngeshead, the inn where i had ended up staying. As naomi had suggested, my status as an adventurer was enough to be given free board and two meals a day, which was all i required. I took my stew gratefully out to the green grass on the shady side of the building, and ate slowly while continuing -- out of habit -- to listen with my ears and my heart to the distant bird songs and squirrel chatter. I was only a quarter way through the bowl when up walked aunt cyn! with her hands full of parchments, on her way back to her forgotten hope orphange from the baronial house, nonchalantly asking «does the wind have any news today, nephew?»⁽¹⁾
After a brisk but careful embrace, she had me resume my seat and joined me (a barmaid bringing her food as well) to inquire after my health. The irony! I quickly assured her it was her health, and those of our friends, that concerned me, and i was glad she had told me of their safety. During our conversation i asked her about the word she had used, «vornae», and she confirmed that it was a term for dark elves, one that was perhaps particular to wayside but count ko considered himself a vornae as well. We spoke about whether this siege would progress into all-out war, and how that would change our lives. In spite of my obvious doubts she assured me i was still «one of my strongest guardians» -- and in response to my dubious look and dry rebuttal, she reminded me as well that «strength and prowess do not determine a guardian - heart and willingness do.»⁽¹⁾
Eventually she retired, but not immediately back to mathis' tower··· she was going to be staying in onothera to assuage the fears of the children at her orphanage, and would probably be back and forth between there and the baronial house for a while. I let her know i was going to be remaining in onothera, echoing what i had recorded earlier in this journal that i felt it more appropriate to remain here in reflection and preparation, rather than to reunite with everyone at the tower in the same previous state of over-eager uselessness. I worded it differently, of course. She inquired if i needed anything before departing, and i actually took the time to think on it before answering her no (which i would have answered anyway, but at least this time i was being sensible rather than dismissive).
That wasn't the last time i have seen aunt cyn this nundine, but it was certainly the longest conversation we had. She had duties of her own to attend to, and so did i.
But where her duties were based on her connexions to vigilance and ko and mathis and the adventurers, and her high station, mine are quieter and more personal. I go to the libraries to try to get a foundation of the laws of the land, the natures of the racial cultures, the histories of the wars. I know i've only just started, but i am woefully displeased with how little i comprehend. I continue to spend middays just outside the palisade, but made a point on marţi morning to locate a well-camouflaged spot for permanent use, and further obscure it with branches and debris so that only the wild animals can find me. There i commune with primarily birds, who perch around its ring and warble tidings of valbrough. At night the vornae still roam, looking for anyone trying to sneak back, but the few forays my friends have made are always wisely during the day, when the vornae are gone and the horrors are more sparse.
My other concern was improving my battle usability. Although naomi had offered to be my teacher on market days, i knew that she was extremely busy with count ko (she was another that, although i saw her at least every other day, it was always brief and usually just in passing). So i have been trying on my own to keep in mind all of the methods she taught me -- watching my stance, keeping my knees loose and my elbows down, not creating an opening to my torso when i block to the side. It's a lot harder without an opponent to try and test me, and tree trunks are terrible substitutes (especially since i have to try and turn my blades to the blunt side to avoid dulling the edges). But the repetition is (hopefully) helping me somewhat.
To avoid relying wholly on my limited knifework, i continue to study the celestial arts. There are spells to cause damage, such as stone and lightning and ice bolts, but also spells to incapacitate or disarm opponents or shatter their weapons (the latter would have been useful against the spearman), and spells to protect people or places. The celestial master who i spoke with on the ninth of the month taught me the basics of celestial memory casting up to the fifth tier, but in my independent practise i am only comfortable with first and second tier spells, and just barely can manage one third tier spell per day. The old impetuous me would say i would save that spell for a shatter in case i could get revenge. The newer, very slightly more thoughtful me can see the advantage of building a wall of force, or binding a target, rather than shattering one item and risking that my opponent could have another weapon.
So in this new pattern my dăți have gone. As we all adjust to our new lives - whether we be adventurers, nobles, traders, travellers, or civilians - the inevitable looming wall of change creeps over us like a fog, in spite of the relatively sunny weather. I hear in short and secondhand of what the residents of valbrough are accomplishing, through aunt cyn and naomi and the birds; i try to better my mind with knowledge, my body with combat, and my spirit with spellwork; and i commune and meditate, trying to push guilt and pain and regret from my mind while trying to emulate the patient perseverance of the earth itself.
This afternoon during my meditation i was in receipt of a message in the dreaming from radi. He explained that he was starting to explain how he came to have stolen the sword from wayside while attempting to fix their waymaker network, and had been planning on giving me that sword. But he and ardos had (valid) concerns about my disregard for my own safety and that giving me the sword might be putting it back in danger, so he wanted to be able to sit down and talk for a good long while before we returned to the subject of the sword.
I «told» radi in reply, with absolute certainty, that i completely agreed with his and ardos' assessment··· that i did not trust myself to carry anything on behalf of anyone else until i had become better accustomed the dangerous life of adventuring and developed the sense of discernment that they already possessed, and that i might decline the sword in any case to pursue the path of the whisperers over the path of the guardians. He has not yet responded again but given that it lacks two ghurries to the mid-night, he might not be asleep again yet. There also might not be anything else to say, for now. I can only hope my response was a worthy one in radi's eyes.
(1) "June 11 - Reunion," in-between game scene written by Annette Smith (Cyn) and Taed Price (Ilarion)
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