Miriel Hana's Letters
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Miriel Hana's Letters
This particular collection of letters sheds light on the relation between Miriel Hana, Hebrin Maul and Helene Stillwater. Discussed is the identity of Transmutant Vesdrac Noss'tau, as well as the conflict between the demons Azlae and Nixtixu. The letters and transcripts abide numerous omissions; — i.e. the Pilgrim is barely mentioned throughout, whereas the Crimson only appears in a cursory note.
Excerpt from an open letter to the Visimontium Sentinels:
12th December 2207
After a series of unfortunate events at the Blandenberg Orphanage, I have accepted the eldest of the children residing there as my apprentice in the Arcane Arts. As I write these lines, Helene is fourteen years old; Human girl with dark hair and blue eyes. She is currently boarding at the Visimontium Tower of the Blue Order of the Sky but you can expect to see her around the Sentinels' Headquarters as well. By the time I met her, the young lady had already taken part of the elderly Orphanage caretaker's duties with utmost responsibility, wherefore I am confident that her presence here will not be an impediment. I retain my administrative duties as intelligence division commander but I will abstain from patrols until Helene's coming of age, unless an emergency situation arises.
Commander Miriel H. Xilo'rulithii
2nd Intelligence Division "Andrinor's Shadow"
Sentinels of Visimontium
Some references from the Blandenberg Public Archive and the Academy of Mortal Magic bulletin are supplied below.
20th February
Avlis Tower University
Mikona
Helene,
It is with great regret that I have to deny you entry to the Moderator's Chalice Tournament. It is not your age that makes me do so, or lack of experience. I am in fact convinced that in an open to all competition chances are that a match is found to your skills. It is not who you are now and what you are capable of, that I am concerned with, but who you will become. You once told me that you wished to learn to fly. I have not forgotten this and hopefully neither have you.
For the present, I will not allow you to employ Magic for the purpouse of mortally wounding a living being, as is the goal of this Tournament. I will not have you use magic solely for the purpouse of harming a living being in any degree — be it as an act of offence or active defence — before you fully awaken to the consequences of your actions. This includes creatures you have summoned yourself.
That said, you are welcome to attend the Tournament as a part of the audience. In all honesty, I cannot imagine a better way for you to enter the reality of burning blood, withering flesh, crushed bones, dealing pain beyond imagination.
In the light of the subject of our latest conversation, I find myself obliged to admit that I have been introduced to a different schooling altogether. I have met the ugly face of war time and again in Andrinor's holy city but this is not what has contributed the most to my present stance on evading violence. What solidified my views was the period of time I spent as student to the 7th Archmage of the Ebony, Aman'dul Xilo'rulithii. My late husband.
As a teacher, Aman'dul employed corporeal punishment much as his own mentor had done onto him in the past. The use of corporeal punishment, which I have chosen not to introduce in your learning process, can and will build reflexes in an individual. Whether to spare one's self the physical pain, the humiliation — or as it was with me, the mere shame of disappointing my teacher. You have seen the stick I keep beside my desk. That was the very instrument he used.
The turning point for us both came the day Aman'dul found it fit to use a spell specifically designated to cause agonizing death, effectively turning the target's blood to a boil of fire and acid. He used it as punishment on me. I kept my gaze locked onto his for as long as I was able, until my conscience began to flicker. Eventually I endured through the spell. However, I will not forget the look in Aman'dul's eyes while he observed the spell at work.
I may be indeed severily deluded but it is my firm belief that this event hurt him more than it hurt me. It was then that I swore to do all that it would possibly take, to evade harming others. This is why today you see me employing holding spells moreso than simply incinerating my adversaries. Ironically, I had agreed to become Aman'dul's student so as to perfect the art of clean, swift assassination. These were tumultuous times; I would rather not sink into reminiscence of the then-and-there.
In time you will make your stand in life, Helene, and you will choose the arcane equivalent of a shield, a weapon or a combination of both to defend your position. Before you make this choice, however, be aware of what the weapon of your choice is capable of. There are, after all, consquences that you may not be able to reverse; Such as death. The access to the Vortex alone does not make you superior but what you choose to use it for. Whether to maintain a public transportation portal, defend a city or burn an orphanage down to the ground.
One may argue the Order of the Dragon Grandmaster's ideal of Balance and defending this Balance. One may argue the creed of any holy warrior of the Great Nine and the actions which they take to support their creed. At all times, you are welcome to critique my own persuasion. You will find your own views disputed over and over and again, you will question and rebuild them as you advance in life.
I could say, "Only do unto others as you would have others do unto you." Instead, I will say this, "May there never come a time when you regret the choices you have made."
Myself, I entered the Moderator's Chalice Tournament only after the insistence of Grandmaster Hebrin; as you know we participated as a team. I do not find an urge to do so again. This time I am to be in attendance amongst the Sentinel guard. As such, I cannot afford to divide my attention wherefore I will arrange you to be escorted by either Magus Delaroweil or Grandmaster Hebrin himself should you wish to observe the Tournament.
I will see you on Saturday.
Miriel H. Xilo'rulithii
10th March
Sentinels Headquarters
Visimontium
Helene,
I will likely be delayed until Thursday afternoon. Once I arrive at the Monastery, I will set off to Derome Delem. I intend to seek audience with the high priest of Vorin, an old acquaintance of mine from way back when I was an Ashen mage. This is about the Weather Divinations and Earthen Magic tomes we uncovered on the last Avlis Tower University journey to the great Kurassian Library. You may come with me if you so wish. Then we can visit the Kitiwito village on the way back, the peaceful Kobold tribe I told you of.
As to your letter: There is very little room for doubt that you have come to the idea of applying Burning Hands over a pool of conjured Grease on your own. What is more, I commend you for your creativity. I admit that I cannot wait to see how your idea to preserve a glass replica of the sand mandala using a Fireball has turned out, as well. However, any further material damage in the courtyard of the Order of the Dragon Monastery is simply unacceptable and you will be punished accordingly. Just like you ought to remain mindful of your allies in combat, you are also expected to remain mindful of private property when "merely practicing".
This is a general situation.
It is your responsibility not to abuse the Grandmaster's hospitality, regardless of how tolerant he may act like. "A fourteen years old Fireball slinging angel" sounds more like Hebrin's way of being tactful about the discrepancy between the powerful energies you can pull and your limited command over them, rather than a compliment. You are to remain in control of yourself and what you tackle with at all times if you wish to be treated as an adult. Agnes Hurst might have become a Magister at the age of nineteen but it did not happen just because she could draw a Meteor Swarm on a whim.
Until I arrive, you will continue practicing with the following spells: Color Spray and Darkness. This is not to belittle your achievements. While I understand your enthusiasm about elemental Evocations, and how they might appear tempting in comparison to actually conjuring the element, from now on you will only use them when you are crystal clear about the area of effect of such spells. As discussed earlier, the propagation of a Color Spray will be identical with most cone spells, while Darkness will give you a tangible visual of the range of your favourite Fireballs.
Rest assured, once back in Visimontium we will continue duelling on Andrinor's Arena. At this point I am uncertain whether my constant preaching has been the reason for the reluctance you have been displaying lately. It appears as if you dread to harm me even more than I - you. By now you have come to accept the Grandmaster's skill in evading most spells as a given thing, and you can trust that I will do my best to achieve the same when faced against you. Very soon I will not be sparing on you and I expect you not to be sparing on me.
While on the topic of mage duels: Do not despair if the benefits of Transmutation are lost to you. Physical transformations can be dispelled. Being prepared is necessary but in the end the best defence against a mage is ... offence. You have seen spells such as Greater Spell Mantle and Premonition waved off by a single Lesser Spell Breach (which you are supposed to be researching right now, together with Lesser Spell Mantle if you still wish to participate in the Tournament, young lady). Granted, "purist" mage duels will be a challenge for you, in the sense that the outcome is often dependant on who exhausts their spell mantles first — and you cannot cast Haste.
Even so, you can still gain the upper hand through quickening spells. Doing so at will does not come easy but it is a worthwhile longterm goal. Control over great powers comes with practice, and so do heightened reflexes. You have much to work on both. As for expanding your physical and mental capabilities — If you are that intent on it, I am certain that Grandmaster Hebrin will be pleased to show you a way. In the end, me and him can only do so much: show a way. You are the one who makes the choice which path to take.
Miriel H. Xilo'rulithii
Every Monday morning since the break of spring, Miriel Xilo is amongst the earliest visitors to the High Temple: Her pale face lit up by the flaming red of Andrinor's holy vestment. A dark-haired, bright-eyed human girl in the robe of an initiate of Andrinor's Trust follows the stern elven woman in step.
Both pay their respects at the altar, even though the young student does not appear to wear any holy symbol of the faith. She maintains a remarkable air of sobriety for a fifteen-year-old.
The two do not usually linger but Miriel always takes a minute for a friendly word or two with Rayna the high priestess...
...Every weekend when the weather allows it, an elven Blue mage and her young apprentice — a human girl in late teens — practice in the open on Andrinor's Arena. Of late, however, the improvised mage duels they go through are becoming relentlessly intense. The pale elven woman is not sparing at all on the girl and spurs her to respond in kind.
While she has limited herself to holding spells before, the Blue mage now does not hesitate to singe her keep's dress. Miriel Xilo's voice echoes in the square, harshly:
"... — If you cannot resist what is coming, do not let me cast it in the first place! — Stop trying to hit me, Helene, and think of a spell that will do the job for you. — What if you are spent? You ought to be able to make a safe exit at all times. — So now you see why I keep a Draught of Cha'reth within easy reach. — NO. This is not what you do when you find yourself under the effect of a Blindness spell. The first thing on your mind should be a Spell Mantle — ..."
Miriel pushes her student beyond exhaustion and is only satisfied if she herself has seen at least as much trouble as her student has.
Draft of a private letter written by Miriel's hand in Eldalie:
- ... I dread to add another concern to the growing list on your back. I however find myself obliged to inform you that the Hands of Dru'El are serious about taking your life. Le'Nofaythen are outright desperate, to the point of attempting to pressure me to use Helene against you. You can imagine my dismay.
- The recent events in The Forest of Midnight aside, your ardency in being a tutor for the Shaahesk contingent of Ebony magi has been recognised far and wide. For instance, a Githzerai hunter by name of Ath'nook Nekk'en — a longtime friend of mine — has found you to be a worthy opponent. He has entitled me to inform you of it.
- With the growing list of people willing to have your hide, Hebrin not excluded, I find myself less opened to the idea of my step-daughter communicating with you on a regular basis for the time being. I still will be grateful if you consider paying us a visit this Friday evening.
- The head of The Keepers of the Cycle, Ashanar Sekor wishes to question me with regards to Thanalos on the afternoon before. I know little to nothing of it, and that is what I plan to tell him ...
03rd April
High Temple of Andrinor
Visimontium
Helene,
It is my hope that the morning finds you well rested and ready. This last afternoon's lesson was not meant to undermine your confidence. Quickening spells is indeed taxing and in your case it will not allow an advantage in counterspelling but you must have the patience and continue until you are able to pull any spell at will. Rest assured, the ability to maintain the concentration to spellcast while dodging a balor's greatsword did not come to me easily. Imagine the benefits of being able to do so while taking half as much time to cast the spell.
Conjuration and specifically the fields of Creation and Teleportation have application in everyday life more than one-on-one duel, however I encourage you to focus on conjuring as much as evoking elements while in combat. I will supply you with rods of elemental substitution and you will see to the results. Melf's Arrow and Mestil's Sheath deliver their message every time, you can still decide just what kind of a message that will be. It does not necessarily have to be a "caustic remark".
Of course, resorting to the Sheath would mean that you have allowed being approached by a hostile entity in the first place; Which you must evade at all costs, as experience has shown. This brings me to our much dreaded topic of discussion: Summoning. I believe that it is high time for you to turn to someone adept in this discipline. You know my dislike towards relying on a summonned ally that can be easily dismissed. Neglecting such an important aspect of your school of choice, however, will be a crime. Magister Noss'tau has already given you a hint of just what an experienced Summoner is capable of.
Much like a Transmutant — such as himself — is aware of the span and scope of a spell school alien to his practice, you as a Conjurer are expected to know at least the specifics of any Transmutation spell in effect, if not the mechanics of casting the spell. You may soon be given the opportunity to put this knowledge to the test, and much more. The Archmagus of the Ebony Order of the Moon Oorayv'levena has expressed interest in your person, for which you have to thank Magister Noss'tau. An invitation for a meeting between the Archmagus and yourself has been sitting in my desk for a while now.
You may ask just why I have delayed in relaying this to you, and you likely suspect my reasoning: I wish to be certain that you are able to stand up to such a challenge. This is not about how adept you are with the Arcane Art, or your general disposition. No mortals are born fully versed in the Arcane, after all. As for displays of character, life itself will press you to overcome them soon enough. (Hopefully, you will grow out of the "displays", not out of character).
This is about how much you are actually willing to sacrifice in order to advance your grasp of the Arcane Art.
By now you should already be well aware that the Ebony Order, while largely respected as an educational insitution, holds its own agenda and requires unconditional loyalty moreso than most Orders of Andrinor's Trust. You can achieve much but you will have to give your best. Yet at the doorstep of the Order you will be asked to part with something you hold most dear. This is a most truthful allegory to what is in store for you: You will find yourself standing at the base of a steep stair.
The Ebony Order require their students to acquaint themselves with the ways of the other eight Orders of Andrinor's Trust, before they make a decision. The desire to attain the most of the Arcane Art whatever the cost, in itself, does not necessarily mean that you belong with the Ebony. If such is your drive, that you are intent to find a place in the Ebony, and IF you are deemed to be worthy of it, know that I will be truely proud of you.
I have accepted you as my student with the hope that you find your right place in Andrinor's Trust, and I will be content with any choice you make so long as you remain true to yourself. Changes of heart do happen even to the greatest of magi. Micah Ormane, 5th in line Archmagus of the Ebony, took reign of the Red Order of the Flame. The Administrator of the Flame to follow her tenure, Vintrinia Carnen, has now turned to the Ebony.
In all honesty there is but one thing that troubles me about the idea of you entering the Ebony Order, dear girl. It is the unfortunate situation that few — if any — among the Ebony can afford a moment of peace for themselves. I have seen it. My late husband dedicated most of his life to the Ebony Order of the Moon. Even as an Archmagus, Aman'dul could not lower his guard behind the dark walls of the Ebony Tower, nor he could fully relax at our home, no matter all the warmth I gave him. I see the same happen to his best student, now Magister Noss'tau.
Rest assured that I will always be there for you as a mother should be, if not as a mentor, regardless which Order of Andrinor's Trust you embrace. Once you are in the Ebony Order, however, I will only be able to rely on you as a magus of Andrinor's Trust. Not as my daughter, such as you are to me. This is not to say that you will lose my trust — but that your priorities will intervene in our relation to each other. The Nine know that I trust none amongst the living better than Vesdrac Noss'tau himself, I just pray that he never fully awakens to this fact.
Think about what I wrote in this letter. We will discuss scheduling a meeting with Archmagus Oorayv'levena as soon as you are ready for it.
Miriel H. Xilo'rulithii
Magus Miriel,
You have been everything a mother should be to a child. No matter my mood or temperament you have spurred me on.
I know the Blandenberg Council refused to relinquish me to your care as your adopted daughter. I really think that was a mistake, never once have you given up on me and you have cared for me more closely than many of the mothers I watch around Visimontium.
I guess what I am trying to say is that if you feel the same I would like it if you would call me your daughter and I might be allowed to use the magic word, "mother" for the first time in my life and mean all that it is meant to mean.
Please do not find this note disrespectful.
With deepest respect and admiration,
Helene
P.S. I would love to meet with the Archmagus whenever it is convenient.
05th April
Tower of the Blue Order of the Sky
Visimontium
Helene,
There is more than one reason why I have refrained from encouraging you to address me as someone close, rather than your mentor in the Arcane Art. I could say that I had to make sure that you would focus on your studies first and foremost, be it at the cost of keeping a distance. — And I could very well stop there. Even as I write this, however, I realize that it sounds far from persuasive.
Indeed, there is something else.
As you know, appearances can be deceiving. Grandmaster Hebrin has probably told you that he has stopped physically aging at some point in his life. I am far from such a wondrous dominion of mind over body, myself. You have seen the white streaks in my hair. Surely they undermine the claim that I am "still young for an elf".
The truth is, were I human, I would not have been much older than you are now, Helene. — Even though I probably appear older than I am. Aman'dul's own daughter from his first union is about my age. As luck would have it, the two of you have something in common: She is named Helin, after her violet eyes. Let me not however digress.
The stream of events in my life has urged me to grow faster in order to survive. These events have left their marks, as well. I was not of age for marriage when I went through it. Nor was I of age to be a mother when I took you. Although, perhaps, there is merit to the saying that one is never really ready to raise a child.
This is why I gave my best in what I was confident in: Being your teacher in the Arcane Art. I accepted you as my keep being well aware that I am likely to see your whole lifespan pass before my eyes but this has never been a reason for me to keep my distance. Deep inside, I was scared with the idea to be a mother for an adolescent girl seeing as I had barely reached adulthood myself. That's the naked truth of it.
By now, you have heard me speak of my lifepath mostly in association with the history of Andrinor's Holy City, as I have witnessed it being built and participated in its defence over the years. It is high time that I share something more than this. I have no doubt that you will continue to judge me for who I am, not for who I have been. Be it as it may, it is only fair that you know of the path which has led me to who I am now.
Not long after Aman'dul passed away, I began recording my memories and reflections of my life on Avlis, spanning several dedaces. Other than my own writings, my notebook contains words of wisdom by some who have been my guiding light, moreso than fellow Sentinels. Notably Fealith Anifail and Vanar Alhaldren, whom you know to be my Sentinel mentor and Sentinel apprentice, respectively.
This record also includes an account of the tumultous experiences I went through around the time I began writing. The last entry there dates back to ten winters after Aman'dul's death, and in turn, twelve winters before Hebrin and yourself entered my life. I now leave my notebook for you to read through. I hope that it will be an educational moreso than a shocking read, to you.
Take all the time you need but please return the notebook to me at some point. You will likely notice that it is much damaged: There have been numerous times that I have wished it destroyed and stayed my hand at the last moment. These records are actually barely scratching the surface of whatever has went on in my life, but they are meant to remain as my personal reminder of particular choices I have made.
In the end, know that your wish to call me "mother" after your own choice is the greatest praise imaginable, to me. You are free to address me as you will. Naturally, it will be more beneficial for you if you present yourself as "student to Miriel Xilo of the Blue" in the community of Andrinor's Trust, rather than state our relation first.
I will warn you enough time before you are to meet the Ebony Archmagus. Rest assured, I will present you to him in person as common courtesy suggests but afterwards I will depart. I am confident that you can weave your own future.
Miriel H. Xilo'rulithii
Excerpt from an open letter to the Visimontium Sentinels:
03rd March 2212
As of this day I am returning to regular duty. My keep Helene has been admitted into the Ebony Order of the Moon. Meanwhile I have taken the post of senior magus of the Blue Order of the Sky for Visimontium.
Thank you everyone for your personal support whilst I was occupied with my private life.
At this point I feel obliged to clarify that I have never been formally entitled as Helene's custodian but I have acted a surrogate parent for the human girl to the best of my ability. Upon her coming of age, Helene has insisted to address me as "mother" which is a great honour for me on a personal level. I also am proud to have been a tutor in the Arcane Art for whom I hope will become a respectable member magus of Andrinor's Trust as she steps into adulthood.
My gratitude also extends to the Grandmaster of the Order of the Dragon, Hebrin, who has played a significant part in the upbringing of Helene alongside with me. I hold no doubt that he will be the patient and responsible parent he has proved to be, for our own children when the time comes. Hebrin and I are planning to enter a civil union of marriage as soon as the lich Hallimancus and the threat which he poses are dealt with, should no other circumstances intervene.
Commander Miriel H. Xilo'rulithii
2nd Intelligence Division "Andrinor's Shadow"
Sentinels of Visimontium
Early in the morning, two women enter the Visimontium graveyard in a chippery mood, carrying a picnic basket. One is a pale elf in an expensive black dress, the other a young dark-haired human in Ebony initiate robes. The sky is clear, still there is a taste of snow on the wind. The two however pay it no mind as they sit by the grave of Amand Xilo, Seventh Archmage of the Ebony and open the basket. The elf gingerly lays a wreath of red roses onto the gravestone, while the human spreads out the contents of the basket onto a linnen cloth.
Chattering merrily, they spend the forenoon between fruits, pastry and a bottle of wine, giggly and bubbly much like two old friends — Although the human notably addresses the elf as "mother". Those in the know quickly spread the word: This time around the widow Miriel Xilo has decided to spend her wedding anniversary in the company of Helene, the orphan girl from Blandenberg whom she has once taken under her roof.
"Well will you look at that! The rottin' green bugger would be proud, seems like the young 'un made it into the Ebony," a Sentinel can be heard commenting from the nearby guard platform. "That's too bad. She was such a nice kid, no more a mischief than any," another retorts, frowning. — "Mind you, she has grown nicely," the first grins. — "Bah! The Nine only know what goes on at the Commander's house," a third one interjects, scowling down at Miriel. "It was thanks to her man that the bugbears layed us to waste many times over! May he never rest in peace!" — "Not so loud, now! What if she hears you?!"
Oblivious to this all, the two women dilligently pack everything back into the basket and skip off to the lake. It is a good day for a long boat ride...
...At the Mikona temple of Kelvos, a pale elven beauty in a black silken kimono materializes from the shadows near the altar. With much tenderness in her silver eyes, she lays an ellegant red gown, a handful of large rubies and diamonds, and a bottle of fine Port on the altar.
"Here I am again, Star-Crossed One." She gracefully sinks to one knee: Definitely not kneeling, as most would find proper. "You know me better than most by now. And I know better than to blame the twists and bends of Fate on your sense of humour. Well, humour me one more time."
Her face turns ice-stern, as she places her hand upon her heart.
"I have come to ask your protection not for me, no. — But for one I have come to love as my own daughter, good or bad. Steel her heart, Star-Crossed One. Make it diamond-hard. She will inevitably know hurt, as any mortal; Such is life. But when hurt and disappointment come, may they be a learning experience for her, and not a seed of bitterness. From such seeds only the weeds of hate sprout, and choke one's own soul."
"Give her strength to hold on to what is worth the pain, courage to cast away what is not, and the wisdom to tell the one from the other..." Standing in one swift movement, Miriel shakes her head, rosy lips curve in a knowing smile. "... Be it in retrospect," she adds chuckling, as she walks to the door, her step proud and confident.
At the Elf Gate of Elysia, half a decade later:
Miriel: "Be careful what you wish for, fallen one. 'tis my family you are threatening."
Pet of the Foresaken: "No, witch. You only seek your own glory in this. The Great Lord Azlae sees through your selfserving guize. May you find something new to weep over, widow."
Excerpt of records originally meant for the Blue Order, written by Thienna Hurst and Miriel Hana:
I have learned that a demon named Azlae, sometimes known as the Forsaken Lord, has been or will be released very soon from his prison.
He sent his half-demon daughter, a creature named Mali the Messenger, to prepare the way for him. She has been trying to draw allies to her side by offering items such as weapons with several runes, and other such-like.
Azlae has also been trying to gain allies/vassals. He is able to somehow project his voice, his thoughts, into the minds of everyone in a broad area, no matter how strong the mind-protection. His words could be construed as very seductive to the person in the right frame of mind.
In order for Azlae to break free of his prison he needed the 'pure' blood of either Helene Stillwater of the Ebony Order, or her niece and now adoptive daughter Sara. The monk Siri van Brokenhamm attacked Helene and gathered the blood for him. She has had ample time to deliver it.
This means that he will be freed, very soon. I am trying to gather what information I can about him and his weaknesses.
Until then, we must prepare as best we can for this demon's rising. (Wrtten by Thienna)
Kate Benneset has witnessed Mali's most recent appearance just outside the City Gate of Mikona, where Mali has unleashed Ice Balors and other Tanar'ri over the present Annihilator Geris Grey, Helene's soulbound. Most importantly, before so doing, Mali has made mentioning of "the Forsaken Lord's Chosen Queen" stating that this is the Ebony Order mage Vintrinia Carnen. (Written by Miriel)
The demon has revealed himself. I met him at the Ferrell Trade Fair. He called himself "the Lord Nekas" when introducing himself to me, and "Lord Nekas'rof Aelza" when he spoke to Speaker Thorfinn. Lord Nekas appeared again several hours later at the Trade Fair and spoke to Geris. He offered to leave this plane peacefully if Geris gave him Helene. He gave Geris until the end of the Trade Fair to decide.
He had various weapons for sale, some tainted by Evrak, others were scythes and halberds enspelled to be particularly painful to elves and humans, he sold these to a Shaahesk soldier named Isskaa.
The Demon said he would return and bathe the streets with blood and gore and the usual threats. (Written by Thienna)
Copy of a private letter to Hebrin Maul of the Order of the Dragon:
Hebrin,
I am staying with Helene at her father's manor near Verloghokbol. It appears that a not-so-far-removed member of her family named Mali (the same one who has recently been waving her flag around Elysia), has attempted to use Helene so as to pull Mali's father, a powerful Tanar'ri, into this plane. Precisely, they needed Helene's blood for the ritual.
I have prefered not to question Helene for details seeing as her physical condition is woeful (see below) but this is what she told me:
Helene was caught upon a set-up meeting; She and Dramiss fought well but were overpowered. For better or for worse, she remembers little of the ritual the two remaining demons undertook but I understand that she was rescued at the last possible moment: By Thorfinn the Speaker of the Hands of Dru'El, who led two other Dru'Elites and the Annihilator Snakebite of all people, to the rescue.
(It appears that attracting this particular Annihilator under the Tanar'ri's influence was part of Mali's plan, or something to that effect.)
A dreadful clarification: Mali is Helene's aunt. Mali and Molly are twin sisters. They were concieved after Helene's nymph grandmother on her father's side was seduced by a Tanar'ri who took a different form than his natural one. Hence, Mali and Molly are half-Nymph half-Tanar'ri. During their birth, their mother died.
The twin girls were tied to the family manor Stillwater by a spell of some kind. In the time while there was not a Stillwater in residence, the bond was weakened enough for Mali to free herself. Mali then sought for the daughter of a cousin of Helene's father's; her name is Sara.
Mali was unable to kill Sara's family herself, so she mucked about with Sara's mother until she was completely insane then made Sara watch as her mother killed her father and devoured his heart. When Sara's mother tried to kill Sarah, Mali let her go or loosened her grasp enough so Sara was able to get free.
That aside, Mali apparently has a habit of tormenting and killing children for fun, as a tavern scribble in Elysia can attest. What with me being busy organising Elil's rescue and then being forced to stay at the Monastery, I caught up late on all this.
As it is, Sara now lives here at the Stillwater manor, with the Annihilator Snakebite and Helene herself taking care of her as if her adoptive parents. Needless to say the Annihilator has suffered the disdain of his god for rescuing Helene and for complying to his sudden parental instinct. To make things "better", the Ebony Pyromancer Vintrinia Carnen who is Snakebite's lover, has not taken well to all this either.
As to why I am down here: After that Tanar'ri ritual, Helene has suffered wounds that will not close. Dramiss has been tending to her constantly, but the welts reopen. I have called for aid at the Zvidureth Temple of Cha'Reth, and I will be staying with Helene to take care of her meanwhile so that she does not have to rely on a pixie or a fallen-from-Aarilax'-grace Annihilator or the rest of her bedamned blood relations.
Elemmiire
Draft of a private letter written by Miriel's hand in Eldalie:
- ... do not know what to do anymore. Dramiss locked the door behind me right after I went to town to check for correspondence. I trust Dramiss in her care for Helene, and I know that Dramiss does not trust me in the slightest. I do not however have even the slighest idea of what in the Nine Hells is going on ...
At the Coldshadow Tavern of Visimontium:
Helene (addressing Miriel): "I hope we've been able to put your mind at ease at least to some extent, Mother."
Geris Grey: "One of the curses of being soulbound, is that I am forced to give footrubs against my will..."
Excerpt of records originally meant for the Blue Order, written by Thienna Hurst:
News has reached me that Mali has been killed, destroyed forever, by the Annihilator "heretic" Snakebite. (Written by Thienna)
Alzae continued to attack Elysia, and two days ago a few of the more vocal people there began to question why Helene had not been turned over to him if that would stop the attacks. Two people that I spoke to just after an attack said that it was obvious Helene did not care about the carnage she was causing, or she would not return to Elysia over and over to cause these attacks. One of them, a Maiden of Dre'Ana name Chananalee, said that Helene and Geris seem to think that they can pay off anyone who helped fight off the demons by giving them gifts, but that this did not really help Elysia at all, and was a small price to pay for the lives of all the guards lying dead.
The man called Kurn said that Helene was a vicious liar and murderer, who was manipulating all those who were trying to help her. That when he had tried to clear up what he thought was a misunderstanding about a little girl being kidnapped, she attacked and killed him. Then she told people who came across his dead body that he had tried to kidnap the little girl.
As Kurn finished explaining this, Helene and Geris appeared at the gate. I watched as Geris donned the armor of an Annihilator and it has been confirmed that Geris and Snakebite are one and the same.
Yesterday there was another attack, Alzae appeared at Elf Gate, making his cryptic comments, when Helene arrived. He was able to project some type of strong enchantment on her, which was able to penetrate her mind protection spells, drawing her close to his side.
About half the people standing there watching pressed so close round her that she could not even step away from him if she had wanted to, it became a strange game of who can rescue Helene. Everyone was so engrossed with this that I do not think they even noticed when Alzae left the scene.
Then Geris finally stepped in and pulled her out of the mess, and whisked her away to who-knew-where.
Several hours later I was approached by a person I knew to be Geris, but somehow different. His mannerisms had changed, his voice had odd inflections. I realized that he was both Geris and Helene, combined.
They explained that Alzae was becoming too devious, so they had to take drastic measures. Alzae had been bound three ways. The first way, Mali had unlocked on her own. The second way was unlocked with Helene's blood. The third way is still locked, the key to this is Helene's womb, and the price would cost her her soul.
So to deter unlocking this last binding... Helene is hidden within Geris' body. Imbibed is the word he used to describe it. Basically, when they made the soul-binding, they combined their two souls into one. Now they have combined their two bodies into one, but they still have separate minds.
One of them, Geris or Helene, not sure which, explained that when Alzae built his own wards to protect himself, he ate the soul of his daughter Mali. Mali was a tiefling, and part of her was human, and of this plane. Therefore part of his wards is uniquely locked to this plane. Various people are working to find a way to anchor him here, all of him, and then Geris seems to know a way to rip away his wards, and then he can be killed, destroyed forever, no more prisons or banishment.
However, if this is not done quickly, Alzae may be able to find a way round this blending, and worst case, could seize Snakebite's strength and power as well as Helene, which would be rather bad.
Geris and Helene were unsure if they could be seperated afterwards, but from what Helene's fairy familiar Dramiss commented about it, this body blending is a very tenuous thing and could come apart more easily than they would like. (Written by Thienna)
Copy of a private letter to Hebrin Maul of the Order of the Dragon:
Hebrin,
I am writing with some news from our not-so-little girl. I have not heard from her for a while. One thing I am certain of, is that Helene will be all right as long as Dramiss is around her, after all is said and done.
Nevertheless, likely you are aware that Dramiss does not quite like me and my attempts to get through to Helene are largely dependant on Dramiss' mood. -- Wherefore I keep in touch with Geris.
I recently send a letter to him at the Temple to the Slaughterlord near Mikona, but got no response for a fortnight. I found it unusual.
After passing through Elysia and hearing of yet another visit of Azlae's, I eventually wrote to Thorfinn. He had chanced to see her just a few days ago; "She seemed well other than a bit travel weary and was returning to the Manor."
Lastly, I have spoken to Vesdrac, and he informs me that Dramiss has rescued Helene from certain doom. Apparently, after a long period spent in Geris' body, his will eventually attempted to crush hers. He is currently imprisoned at the Stillwater manor, which would explain him not returning my letter.
Vesdrac also tells me that Azlae, - whether out of desperation, or on a whim, we can only guess- has started killing off women who resemble Helene physically.
This is quite disturbing, as you might imagine.
Finally, Vesdrac mentioned to me that Thorfinn has requested to meet with him and discuss any means to deal with Azlae once and for all. - If so, I plan to be present. - I hope that Vanar will be inclined to the same.
Elemmiire
Dramiss,
I hope that this letter finds your and your family well. Hebrin and I have not received word from Helene, for a long while now.
I hope that she is recovering from the unpleasant turn of events around Geris. In my experience, being pressed to a wall by someone you love - even if you know that it is in their nature, and that they love you no less - hurts as much as any heartbreak.
In the interim, some rather breaking news were let out on the wind, as the fey talk goes, regarding to Helene's condition. What we heard, literally, was that Helene was pregnant, that at the time you had not yet informed Helene of her own condition, and that the father is not a fey.
I trust your judgement when it comes to family, therefore I rather address you, in the rare case where Helene indeed is pregnant and does not know it yet. My concern is simple: Does she know, and is she all right?
I have "breaking news" for her in turn, but I would rather wait until I am certain that she is ready a for further "serving" of emotional distress. I do not doubt her personal strength, but if she is pregnant, I am not taking risks.
Please, let us know.
Respectfully,
Miriel H. Xilo'rulithii
Dear Ms Xilo,
I have been asked to write to you by the Lady Stillwater, she wishes to inform you that she is well and happy and in a place of safety. She expresses regret that her aunt Dramiss was unable to answer your letter as her aunt is currently indisposed. If you have a letter to return to Lady Stillwater, you may send it to her through the usual channels, or you may send it via me by leaving it at the Rompin' Romini Inn in the surface city of Mikona, addressed to me.
Yours,
Annihilator N-
Excerpt of records originally meant for the Blue Order, written by Miriel Hana:
Geris and Snakebite are indeed two sides to one and the same person, currently deceased. Apparently, after a long period spent in Geris' body, his will eventually attempted to crush Helene's. After the reaction of Dramiss (who is also Helene's great-aunt on her father's side, not simply a familiar), Geris was imprisoned at the Stillwater manor. He then met his end under undisclosed circumstances.
Helene is no longer of use to Azlae since the successful conception and delivery of her children. A week ago, the twins Aman'dul and Coia Noss'tau came into this world. The newborns and their parents are alive, healthy, and under the protection of Her Holiness Nanshileeshan'Yerak, Herald and High Priestess of Dru'El.
Azlae is still intent to kill the father of Helene's children, Vesdrac Noss'tau - likely, out of sheer desire for vengeance. Azlae has attempted to bribe various individuals to kill magus Noss'tau, so far unsuccessfully. (Written by Miriel)
Posted on the Mikona public messageboards:
Folks a' M'Chek, haters a' lizards,
So I stumbled out a' tha Leapin' Stag up in Zvid-town, an' tha first thing I hear is 'at ol' gal a' Drool, Nan'shiwhack'watchyourback'attack, say this. I think she were talkin' ta that lizard Frappers:
"I was just telling these two youngsters that the Father has asked us to guard Vesdrac."
So I said, I says, "I hear that right? That ya Droolers are guardin' Ves?"
And she chuckles and says "Yes, we droolers guard Vesdrac."
"His Ways are mysterious!" I says.
"No," said Nan'she'll'crack'yourneck'stat, "but I do not expect you to understand nor will I explain the Father's will in such a public place."
"Well hell," I said. "I can't wait ta tell folks."
And she smiles all patient-like an' says, "Well, do know that if you paint the situation poorly you might well find yourself dead." An' I asked on account a' tellin' tha truth? An' she says "your stance with your god is reason enough for some, your disrespect reason enough for others."
She also slipped somethin' in there 'bout Vesdrac still bein' "a dangerous creature when cornered." Well duh!
Anyways, I just thought ya's should know that a fella who's known ta fight for an' supply tha lizards M'Chek's at war with - as ya can see in this note I copied while I was up there -
- Citizens of the Spiritland,
- Let it hereby be announced that Vesdrac Noss'tau, mage of the Ebony Order of the Moon, has been proclaimed an enemy of T'Nanshi by the Council of Nine. He is guilty of allying with and training our enemies, freeing the dracolich Thanalos from his prison in the forests of the Spiritland and the foul unsolicited murder of members of Le'Nofaythen'T'Nanshi.
- He is forwith declared an enemy of the Spiritland and shall be hunted by Le'Nofaythen'T'Nanshi in the manner of all of our enemies. Any that aid him or stand with him when challenged will be dealt with in accordance with the laws of T'Nanshi.
- Warmaster T'eindel Trethlawn
- Commander-in-chief
- Le'Nofaythen'T'Nanshi
is now bein' protected by tha followers a' Drool. Them's the facts.
That said, I heard from a pal what knows lots that it's on account a' him takin' sloppy seconds on Garish Ghey's ol' whorebag Helene, an' now she's got a Ves an' a Drac in tha oven. Don't know that for sure, but it's news ta me!
-Angus Blacksail
Dark Knight of Slaughter
Son a' M'Chek
Herald a' Nobody
DOER!
Mr. Blacksail,
I met a gentleman named Azlae who wishes you to please return to him that he may pay you, as agreed. He also asked that you let him know if you still carry the trinket his daughter gave you?
No longer,
Tabitha
Tabs!
I got no idea who ya are, but word is ya might wanna take a bath every now an' then. As for Azlae, I'd love ta get paid, sure. Ain't sure what it was I done for him - maybe ya could remind us all - but free gold is good gold!
An' regardin' that trinket, I been tryin' ta find Mali ta give it back ta her for months now. But I reckon she got offed? So if ya's tha New Mali, come an' find me anytime so's I can figure a way ta get rid of it. It's got tha stink a' how stupid Mali was on it, an' I'd love ta be rid a' tha damn thing.
Your good-smellin' pal,
-Angus
Angus!
I believe the word you're looking for is Dru'elite not Drooler.. I know its a hard word to spell, and heck, who wouldn't have a tough time with it? Anyway... I think you're just slightly misinformed here. I'd be happy to speak to you and straighten you out on it though and perhaps we could talk about what sort of deals you've been working with the demon too.
Send word to me on when and where!
-Thorfinn
Thorfinn,
I honestly think we'd all like to know what's going on here. These seem like some very strange events and I'd sure like to have it all explained. So if you or the high priestess could just put up a note explaining what's going on, I'm sure everyone would be alot happier.
Many thanks,
Eleanor
Warrior Maiden of Dre'Ana
Ms. Eleanor,
I assure you that I understand your concern. Please however take a moment to consider the personal privacy of two novice parents occupied with their newborn, those very same people that Angus Blacksail has made a public display of. Whether or not they, or the High Priestess and the Speaker of the Hands of Dru'El, should divulge information in the open is up to their own judgement.
There is however a much more essential question that I wish to address.
Nanshileeshan'yerak is indeed a Herald of Dru'El, His voice. But does she have to explain Dru'El's motives? There are two ways to know the world: Through knowledge based on evidence and knowledge based on belief, faith, trust. When the gods have plans, whyever should the mortals doubt or debate their motives?
Perhaps some of the Great Nine's Holy Warriors who enacted Their will in attack over Andrinor's High Temple not too long ago, did hesitate. Yet their hesitation was no greater than their belief, as they chose to act. One can either trust into the image of the gods created by their own word and will in ages past, or call them and this whole world a big lie.
Best wishes,
Miriel Xilo
Angus,
I too have heard that those of Dru'El are meant to protect Vesdrac. Once it was that they were supposed to protect Geris Grey. It is a surprising thing.
Early in the story of Mali the Messenger, it seemed that the struggle was between Mali and the Ebony Mage Helene Stillwater. After a long period of time, I learned almost incidentally that an Angel of DruEl appeared to that gods followers and told them that they must protect Helene and Geris Grey. Why DruEl thinks that it is important to defend someone who has a fiend, then Azlae, sealed up by some magical means seems to follow, though I do not see how nature as such is threatened. I would have rather expected the gods Mikon and Ptah to be involved in keeping undesirable extraplanars from Avlis. Nonetheless, it is DruEl that took to support those who would fend off Azlae. Why some of Dru'El's followers seem elusive about this probably reflects their apparent desire to obscure the existence of this great struggle of good against evil, as well as their role in it. If for some other reason, then I find their lack of faith disturbing.
How it was that the Stillwater Family originally came to their relationship with Azlae, and whatever power they receive from this fiend, is not clear to me. Much of this is described in the Writings of Lord Stillwater. This "lord" is actually Geris Grey, who started taking himself seriously when he realized he could kill whoever he wanted with his unholy powers, and much of the history on this matter is written in this journal. The general conclusion of that work is that the best Annihilators really just want to protect their family by any means necessary. Aarilax surely would have made shaahesk more domestic, if that had been the height of his philosophy, and while the writing is excellent, the apparent conclusion seems absurd. Nevertheless, you might be able to figure out something by reading it. I know you love to read. But I digress.
Geris was the protector of Helene. He is gone now, and it seems that duty has passed to the Ebony Mage Vesdrac. Thus the plot continues.
This story also involves Nixtixu or Balefire, which is some part elemental, part fiend, that talks about "the true meaning of fire". Azlae appeared in Zvidureth not too long ago to say that Vintrinia was fated to lead the fight against Nixtixu. Others are supposed to be gathering an army for Azlae. These servants are being slowly unmasked by either Azlae or the divine and all-knowing celestial and immortal servants of DruEl. In addition, Azlae is collecting Mali's gifts from those who will not serve him anymore, and is or was involved in some sort of plot where he is murdering women and collecting the souls of those who resembled his daughter. Perhaps your Tabitha is one of these unfortunate victims. In any event, How Azlae is related to Vintrinia is not immediately clear, but it seems that Azlae is not aligned with this Balefire Nixtixu.
I have read a note by Tomas Kelthran and Alden Stonefoot that was placed on the door to the Cinderspire that suggests the battle of Nixtixu, Azlae, and Vintrinia may be nearing.
One final note, Angus, is that you are a rotten Blackguard bastard, which may explain the death threats you get from Dru'elites. I get them too.
Excerpt of records originally meant for the Blue Order, written by Thienna Hurst and Miriel Hana:
The belief is that Azlae has been goading on the confrontation between Vintrinia and Nixtixu because Azlae hopes that when Nixtixu is destroyed, Azlae will be able to claim the black dagger essense Nixtixu carries as his own, and therefore be able to walk Avlis as a demon of this plane. (Written by Thienna, in commentary to the public notice by Liam Dald)
It perhaps comes across as peculiar that Dru'El's Herald Nanshileeshan'Yerak is watching over the Stillwater family at their manor, whilst the Hands of Dru'El watch over Vesdrac Noss'tau in T'Nanshi. Here is an explanation, compiled from the story as told by Speaker of the Hands of Dru'El Thorfinn Kiff, and Helene Stillwater herself.
The fate of the Stillwater family is intertwined with a prophecy, a way to stop a powerful demon. Dru'El, O'Ma and Gorethar made a pact to stop this demon if it came to pass. The short of it is that the gods recognized this demon from the prophecy to be Azlae, and acted against him. A human woman was having twin daughters, that by this prophecy were one way to stop the demon. (She was Jechrani, while the father was of mixed elven and fey heritage. - M.)
In Thorfinn's words, "When the daughters were born, Dru'El and Gorethar acted uncertain of what each were doing at the time when the demon tried to take the life of one girl. This sort of sent her soul into Limbo. The other girl lived, that was Helene. The threat seemed gone for now, until it was realized Helene was in danger from Azlae again."
"Then Dru'El sent the lost soul (from Limbo) again here, on Avlis, to be raised by one of Gorethar for a time until called back. So, there was a girl raised for a time partially here, on this plane, by one of Gorethar. — And in the Seven Cities there was a boychild of Champions raised in similar fashion, partially here on this plane for a time. Until both were called back to Dru'El, Gorethar and O'Ma and then reborn the Cycle, as the twins born to Helene and Vesdrac. Be it so, their children are their own, and will have their own life and choices to make in life. Nothing is set in stone at all, as it should be," says Thorfinn.
As to the conception itself, which was obstructed by the common situation where Transmutants spending too much time in various bodies lose their ability to procreate, Thorfinn shares the following remark: "Frapp of O'Ma and myself of Dru'El helped heal Vesdrac (Titanian fey ritual. - M.) He asked for my help and though I did not know exactly what it meant, nor did he exactly at the time, I knew it was right to do it. And so I did. The plans and methods of the gods are often above us all."
I cannot help but concur. Surely the world will hear more of the Stillwaters in the foreseeable future, and hopefully what they hear will be for good. (Written by Miriel)
Excerpts of various public missives:
........................
........................
Last evening, the time came. A group of us of many lands and many more faiths, heeding the call, marched to Mayer Pass to confront the forces of Nixtixu and Azlae in a three-way-battle. Fire, Ice, Acid, Lightning... many were felled, and many demons met their end at our hands as well. Then...from the smoke and dust Nixtixu stomped forward, lashing flame at anything that moved. But, he was not alone.
Azlae, in his true form, marched forward, Trident in hand. He towered over even the Balefire Demon himself, and the two did battle as Vintrinia unleashed her spells upon Nixtixu. Finally, Nixtixu fell, and Azlae was victorious. He gloated, and bid us all to kneel before him. Suddenly, a portal opened and out stepped Ves'drac himself.
Oddly, Ves'drac did not make a move to attack, or even defend himself. He just stood there and waited while Azlae caught sight of him. With a mighty hand, Azlae grabbed him as a child would grab a rag doll, and crushed him in his bare hand, dropping what was left of the body (which, I must say, was almost unidentifiable) to the ground. But, something else happened, and I am amazed further by it. Azlae's wards, the bane of those of us who had fought him for so long, vanished after he had crushed Ves'drac. For you see, Ves'drac's part was simply stated (as relayed to me some time ago) he was going to sacrifice himself so that Azlae could be defeated. If it was to protect his family, the few friends he had, or simply to get a final laugh in on Azlae, I do not know. But... if he had one selfless act in him, this was it.
And so, we struck at the Demon Lord, with blades, magic, arrows, wounding him until he took to the sky, and came crashing down upon us again, at full strength yet again. This time, however, we could strike him more truly, and with a mighty thud, this thing most foul, this defiler of our lands — this Azlae — fell to the ground, dead. The Herald of Dru'El, Nanshileeshan'Yerak, took the accursed things he carried, and then his body disintegrated to nothingness, leaving only a mark where he fell.
........................
........................
In closing, allow me to say the following:
To those who sacrificed their so much, offer them remembrance in your prayers, and gratitude in your words. To those who lost friends and family most dear, offer them your shoulder and your strength. To those of who squared shoulders to fight back, offer them your thanks, and a toast.
Let none be forgotten.
Humbly Yours,
I would like to extend my own thanks to those who answered the call to destroy Nixtixu, and who were there to take advantage of the trap we had laid for Azlae.
The death of Nixtixu Yrxzys the Angelscourge is a true triumph of the civilized peoples of Avlis over the mindless demons that would destroy us; indeed, those who confronted him hundreds of years ago were unable to defeat him and only entombed him in a flawed prison. His defeat came as a result of a technique developed by Nyrghul Hellfire hundreds of years ago; this spell burns that which does not burn, and even Nixtixu's balefire body was able to be destroyed by it. I am grateful to Nanshileeshan'Yerak for the protection she was able to provide to me during the battle, and for the army of brave individuals who took to the field to defeat Nixtixu's constructs. Many sacrificed — their lives, their homes, their bodies — in order to defeat him today; may we always remember that victory comes at cost.
A full tale of Azlae's defeat will take much longer for me to assemble, but Fletcher's account of his final moments is indeed accurate. It is a wonder that the assembled army was able to turn to the vulnerable Azlae after having destroyed Nixtixu's constructs, and their deeds are indeed the stuff of tales of heroism and daring.
Andrinor's flames indeed lit our paths on that day, and may they continue to carry on into the future.
~Vintrinia Carnen
Vesdrac did indeed choose to sacrifice himself. He has paid his debt to Dru'El, O'Ma, and Gorethar as well as their followers. He is not undead nor was it ever the intention of the Father for Vesdrac to be prevented from returning to the Cycle. To think that moral contingency plans could outwit three of the Nine is either ignorance or arrogance, either way it is wrong.
What the child Noss'tau chooses to do with his days from here will decide what further debt he either incurs or repays. May he choose wisely, and may Dru'El grace us all with His mercy.
~Nanshileeshan'Yerak
17th October
Trade Fair
Ferrell
~Preface~
Dear Helene,
As the hustle and bustle of the Ferrell Fair is coming to an end, I finally have the time to write. I do so still in the afterglow of the happiest day I have had in many years. You have known only part of it, the part reflected in my eyes as me and Hebrin were presented with the sight of new life in repose: Your son and daughter. The first and foremost joy for me on that day have been you and the children.
~Page 1~
Thorfinn of Dru'El has shared with me some truely wondrous sides to the story unfolding around the Stillwater family, the shadow over your past and the dawning of hope for the days to come. Many mothers are convinced that their children are destined for great deeds, but few are truely fated to it. Come what may, I hope that the lifepaths of Aman'dul and Coia Noss'tau will be to a great degree a consequence of their own choices, rather than the plots of the divine.
As you know well by now, I make no difference between the mortals and gods of Avlis, except to register the scope of their power. After all, most divinities of Avlis have begun their existence as mortals. A stranger meddling in my life is still a stranger, whether they have attained godly powers, or not. Respect is earned, not given. On my hands, and in my heart, I carry the marks of two gods only, the two that have reached out to me.
Those two are as close to the forces they represent, as to be nearly identical with them, as are the gods of my home world. Ra-Ghul's furious force of life, and Andrinor's Vortex of Mortal Magic. Ever since your childhood, the one deific power you have been constantly in touch with upon casting even a cantrip, has been Andrinor. You used to walk into His High Temple, and pay your respects alongside with me.
The second event that contributed to this joyful day that I began my letter with, took place at this very Temple.
~Page 2~
Andrinor's sole care is that of magic, and he rewards those who honour His name as its keeper. His Church cares of His Trust. On that fated day, I walked in to find the priestesses Rayna and Ankhara preparing to administer one of their holy rites — The Ashen Rite. Its purpose is to serve as a public introduction, an acknowledgment of commitment to magic.
In the words of Ankhara, "Each and every one of the Rites of the Venificus Sacramentum are intended to benefit all who come to the Church and Trust of Andrinor. Some do not even require being of the True Faith of Andrinor, such as the Ashen Rite of Acclamation, a ritual acknowledgment of the dedication that goes into becoming a full member of the Trust. We do this to serve the Trust and honour the commitment of the community of magic."
What I went through was the Ashen Rite of Acceptance, such that ritually confirms True Faith in Andrinor. It is meant to welcome the faithful into the full body of the Church of Andrinor. It was a very special moment to me, seeing as I had entered the temple with my heart in my hand, to give thanks to Andrinor for being a driving force in my life, aiding me so that I have lived to that happy day.
And that brings me to the third event, that made this day so special.
~Page 3~
In the years you have spent with me, you have known me to be ever haunted by a silent presence; A name that has greatly influenced the shape and essence of who I am now. It is an immense joy to me, to know that I will not be the only one to speak this name with love: Your son bears this very same name, the name of my late husband and Vesdrac's teacher, Aman'dul.
The first man I have known under this name, the man who would not leave my life even upon his departure from the world of the living, indeed will never be replaced in my heart by anyone. But he also loved me well enough to implore me to go on after him, to have a normal family, to have children, such as me and him could never have.
You and I both should know by now that there is no such a thing as a "normal family". What Amand Xilo implied, was that I should seek someone whose life would be less marked by dedication to a cause as consuming as the Ebony Order. Someone who will actually be there for me and our future children. At first, I was not certain if I needed that. Yet I knew better than to push myself, and I kept telling myself that time will be the key.
I believe that Hebrin came into my life right on time; As I in his; As you in ours; As we in yours. To actually consider marriage with him, has taken me a while indeed. As long as it took for you to have children of your own, which alone makes it a good joke: You can say that me and Hebrin have done it all backwards, first raising a child and then getting married.
~Page 4~
But before I would step into marriage with Hebrin, much as we both look onto it as to a formality, I have had two important requirements. One, that you and Sarah (and now the twins) are safe from harm. Two, that I have my late husband's blessing prior to marrying another.
I am certain that you will agree, Helene: It is hard to tell which of these two requirements has been more difficult to procure. Eliminating the Tanar'ri threat over the Stillwater family. Or disturbing the rest of my dearly departed love, something which Vesdrac was quick to pronounce as impossible. After all, Amand Xilo was the kind of man for whom leaving this world could only happen out of his own volition.
And I, Miriel Xilo, have a will no more easily broken than his. "Impossible" cannot stop me, when all I ask for is a blessing: A blessing that will cast away so many hollow years, and allow me to cherish the past, denying its shadows over my present and future. — A blessing one may say I have had all this time.
........................
........................
I am free now, and this is the third and final reason for me to be so happy, almost aglow upon entering the Stillwater Manor hand in hand with Hebrin.
~Page 5~
Indeed, the worst demons in one's life are ever the ones that you create yourself. You can be your own greatest blessing, or curse.
The lesson I tried so hard to instill in you as your first mentor in the Arcane, "Use what you have, but never rely on what you can lose" is a sound approach to life, but it should not be applied to the people you hold dear as if to assets. — Way back when you were about to join the Ebony Order, I was concerned that in my effort to be a good teacher in the Arcane first and foremost, I might have not accentuated enough on this. Life is a dark, cold place if you have none to trust and cherish.
Now, I can confidently say that you have cast away this fear of mine.
I recall my first visit to the Stillwater Manor, at the time little more than a haunted house. And you amidst it all, your eyes alight, inspired, invigourated by the prospect of recreating a home out of a prison. Independent as you are, in my eyes you are devoted to whom you hold dear, to family and home, more than most people I know.
Adopting your niece Sarah, while at such a young age yourself, was but one of many signs to the depth of your heart. — And it is a relief to see you as you are now, a sharp mind and a flaming soul, a sun in your sky blue eyes, lit by the blessing of true motherhood.
~Page 6~
As Hebrin and I promised, you will receive details of our upcoming wedding celebration very soon. We are to keep the nupital itself private, with our patron dragons Nargulthonossor and Obsidiakara as our witnesses. But the celebration to follow will be open to everyone who may want to share our joy. I hope that you, Sarah and Vesdrac will be able to attend.
If Nan has a problem with you leaving her sight, by all means she is welcome to join us! It was upon her decision, amongst others, that you were entrusted to us, and so Hebrin and I were bonded all the more. Please also let Dramiss know that she is welcome, as well. I respect her as your protector.
There is one final thing that I leave for you to think over, dear Helene. As you know, me and Hebrin were not granted parental custody upon taking you from the Orphanage. Once we are actually married, it will be an honour if you allow us to formally become your foster parents, at long last. You can discuss the formalities with Nan while she is with you, seeing as she still is a member of the Blandenberg Council.
Much health and joy to you and all whom you hold in you heart.
Miriel H. Xilo'rulithii
Copy of a private letter to Hebrin Maul of the Order of the Dragon:
Hebrin,
Know that I am to say in Visimontium for the next few days. I have spoken to the High Shaman Resht of Ra-Ghul, and he has given me his word that he will seek divine insight unto where Obsidikara can be found at this time: The Dragon of Fury I once awoke.
I have to admit, it has been a great relief to come to the Firefly Valley with good tidings.
Likely you recall, — how could I forget? — the day you found me at that lonely pier on the M'Chekian western shore, my blood and soul seeping out. I was in luck that you came by. Otherwise, I could have very well passed away from this world, after he whom once I called "brother in blood" severed our soul bond of many years.
There were those among The Fury who took to me as to an intruder, who were jealous of his attention and spat upon me as I awaited them at the temple doorway. Whisper, Ra-Ghul's Templar, could have chosen to confront this nonesense. Instead, he chose to sever our blood bond and flee to the frozen north.
Resht tells me that the number of The Fury have dwindled to the south upon Whisper's departure.
As time has marched on, I have often asked myself what I could have done, to prevent this bitter turn of events. But after all is said and done, the past is past, and the future is in our hands. I choose to keep the past as an invaluable lesson, rather than a painful reminder.
Resh blames me not. Now, as then, he trusts me. With his aid, I walked in spirit to the Fury Lord's own Halls, to make clear that I cherish Fury's spark of life. That all I have ever asked of those who follow Him, has been their consent for me to record their deeds.
Then, as now, I am ready to go far to prove my intent and show my heart.
Depending on where Obsidiakara currently abides, I may have to take a long journey. I will let you know in due time, as always.
Yours,
Elemmiire
P.S. Sher'Cha, the Loremistress of the Warrior Maidens, wishes to sing at our wedding celebration as well. Her wish is to write a song especially for us two. She requests to speak to each of us (preferably both at the same time), so as to get a grasp of what it is that we cherish in each other. You can contact her at Elysia's Warrior Maidens Keep.
After a thunderous night in Visimontium, a small fruit bat makes way south through Deglos, carrying a missive:
Hebrin,
I have spoken with Obsidiakara. He will remain in the Crescetoria mountain range until the day of our wedding. I have left a notification at the Visimontium municipality and requested that whoever is avaliable at the time should please await us in Coldshadow village, by the sundial at the central square.
The gorge just above the village is the only place I can think of that is near town and is remote enough to house our witnesses without causing mass panic.
These barren rocks also happen to be one of many sites that have seen an awful lot of blood shed by Visimontium's defenders: At one time against the Crescetorian bugbears whilst they were under the rule of the Ancient Spirit, and then against the first waves of the Tanar'ri armies of Kuthos.
The blood has been washed away, but the ghosts of past remain. Hopefully, our wedding will put them to rest.
Yours,
Elemmiire
P.S. I am to be in Mikona tomorrow and will have a talk with Kate about the rings.
Late in the afternoon, Commander Miriel Xilo adds to her questionable reputation by taking her patrol round through town side by side with an Ebony mage, darkly cloaked and hooded as they come. The Sentinel maintans small talk, whilst the Ebony remains mostly quiet.
Traversing the city through and through, the two eventually reach the small marketplace at the Northern Residential district, where Miriel cheerfully hollers to the apple girl, "May it be noted that the Ebony are giving their due in assisting the Visimontium city defence!" Whether she is jesting, or not, one can only guess.
The Sentinel and Ebony finally walk out through the Western Passage gate, on the road towards Coldshadow Village — as far as routine Sentinel patrols go. The coming night quickly veils them from sight.
The break of daylight finds Miriel on the diametrical end of the city, standing at the gates of the high temple of Andrinor. She is wearing Andrinor's holy vestment, which is not so unusual; What is unusual, is that she is literally aglow.
"Hey, I am getting re-married!" Miriel announces to the sleeping neighbourhood, then hugs the nearest Sentinel Golem's leg briefly and hurries home...
...In the cool of the evening, the old scene repeating itself over a thousand and one nights is reintroduced to the city graveyard, as Miriel Xilo sits by the gravestone of Amand Xilo. She absently runs her fingers over the rough surface, humming something that has the tone and feel of a lullaby. The tattered travelling robe does not seem to keep her warm. Now and then, her wordless song takes a sudden pitch or is choked as the growing chill causes her to shiver. Yet she remains, all through the night, as she always has. "Just a little bit longer," she speaks to the cold granite as she finally rises with the lark, stiff and quivering. "Just a little bit — and it will be all right. I promise." A gentle smile warms her face and sets her eyes alight. Miriel picks up her old travelling bag and heads in direction opposite to the rising sun, not turning back, soon lost from sight in the morning mist...
...The next evenfall is graced by a wave of laughter, echoing through the city vicinity, the sound distorted as if its source is moving at great speed. The reason for this becomes soon apparent to the townsfolk. From the by-lake farmlands, past the District of the Trust and to a familiar door at the Academy District, a red-haired elven man runs like the wind, his eyes aglow. He is carrying in his arms a pale elven woman who is almost in tears with laughter. The train of her azure gown flaps after the two as a bright banner of joy. The wedding announcement posted on the morning after leaves no doubt as to the reason for Miriel and Hebrin's merriment.
Copy of a public announcement:
To One and All:
Let it be known that Hebrin Maul of the Order of the Dragon and Miriel of Visimontium have entered into the bonds of matrimony as witnessed by the Great Wyrms Nargulthonossor and Obsidiakara, on the last day of winter, 2224. To celebrate this event, there will be a festival open to all who wish to add their blessings on the last day of winter at Coldshadow Grove in the City of Visimontium. Arrangements will be made to help guide those unfamiliar with the area.
Signed,
Hebrin and Miriel
A colourful poster completes the announcement.
A circular letter to many of Miriel's friends and acquaintances:
Here is the draft of the speech that I held at our wedding celebration. The parts that I have omitted out so as not to deprive our guests of time for merriment are written in lighter script. Upon remarrying, I have dropped the Xilo'rulithii family name and retained my mother's name. The name my current husband is known under, Hebrin Maul, is actually the name of the human monk who found him as an orphaned child. Someday, Vorin willing, he may find out his true name.
~Miriel Hana
"Let's face it, I can literally spend hours talking about how my significant other makes me feel. On this joyful day, however, I'd rather spare you the verbosity on that part. — That, and Sher'Cha has already done the brunt of the job for me, through her wonderful song.
Still, I have to say a few words. Knowing me, it will likely be more than just a few words, so feel free to grab a drink ...or five. Before you wander off, though, I will spoil the highlight of my speech: That I am particularly fond and even envious of my herepresent husband's hair.
On a more serious note:
Last night, as Fate's Oracle wrote for all to see, the fate of Zelia, Voice of Wilsash was decided. By Yenefer, who chose to give her redeem, and life. And though Yenefer could not bend the march of time, Zelia still passed on with the Cycle, and was saved. As for her past accomplices, known as Storm, Plague, and Wrath... Wrath is leading an army, but she has also made the mistake to extend her existence throgh undeath. It is a weakness, and she can thus be defeated.
On the quest to offer Zelia a chance of redeem, many set off. Some of you have glimpsed shards of The Dreamscape woven by Hebrin, where Wilsash's wicked riddle game took place. This last night, we got to walk through it once more, to the Temple of Forgotten Dreams. Part of the way was such, that it required those present to speak out their heart's desire, in order to continue; the Guardian of the way would know it if they lie.
There Hebrin said, "My desire, my only desire, is to see my wife relaxed and at ease, for all time, without worry." You are free to laugh, knowing me and my relationship with trouble. It was there, in front of the Guardian, that I realized: I have no desire above all my desires. There are many things I wish to achieve, and yet I will not be incomplete if I pass them by. There are many different ways in which I feel about different ideas, ... events, people, even about myself, and these feeling may change overtime.
And there is just one thing I can wish and hope for, and that is to be true to myself at all times. No matter how different I am now from whom I have been yesterday and whom I will be tomorrow. I pledged to be faitfhul to Hebrin, and to me, this means to be as true to him, as I am to myself. — The heaviest promise I can make.
Hebrin and I met way back when I still lived in Elysia. I have mentioned time and again that my arrival on Avlis was rather distressful, to put it mildly, as it coincided with the day Elysia was put under plague quarantine.
Imagine a vagabond, all alone in a place she knows practically nothing about. I did whatever I could to survive, and what I could do best was, well, shenanigans. Tall tales and petty thievery to name a few, in case you are wondering.
Had anyone told me I'd someday become a mage occupied in public and military administration, I probably would have sent them packing.
But back in the day, this here Vorinite monk caught me pilfering books from the public library. He did not know that I was planning to keep them, mind you. I am just saying that my first memory of him is intertwined with that of my own embarassment and mortal terror.
It was almost half a century after my arrival on Avlis, that I got to know Hebrin more than just in passing or from the recent history records. It was mostly thanks to the partnership between the Blue Order and the Order of the Dragon.
As luck would have it, he also saved my life upon one of the worst betrayals I have ever suffered. But this is not the day to speak of it.
For me, Hebrin has ever been the pinnacle of Reason. The one to whom I could complain at length about all those men intent to get a piece of a white widow's booty.
Then we found that we both enjoyed tea and could rival each other in long winded conversations, then one thing led to another... And then I proposed to him, even after he told me that he wanted at least seven kids, and it sure took us a while to get through with it. Get through with getting married, that is; not with raising seven or more kids.
Yet I have taken Hebrin's wish to heart.
The present times are peaceful for Andrinor's holy city, which has withstood many powerful foes in recent past. However, given its sheer number of inhabitants, it is no wonder that there still are a number of orphaned children in Visimontium. These children are raised by various churches, distant relatives or caring neighbours.
And I have willed to give these children one home, a neutral ground to start from. I have petitioned the Visimontium city council and hope to be granted permission to establish an orphanage. This is also my wedding gift, to Hebrin. In this way, we will have way more than the few children I am able to give life to.
Even though my intent is to get involved with the Orphanage's financial management, rather than become one of the caretakers, I can assure you that both Hebrin and I have experience in raising a child. Much as I am fond of Hebrin, and this day is devoted to our love to each other, I cannot leave her out. For she has been key to our bonding as husband and wife today.
As you may or may not know, upon a terrible misfortune at the Blandenberg Orphanage I took Helene Stillwater, the eldest of the girls there, as my student in the Arcane Arts. I did so after her own wish. She was barely 14 years old, and I was not given custody over her at the time. My obligation was to aid her advancement in her studies first and foremost.
As you might imagine, however, it did not simply end there. I took to Helene as to someone close to my heart, as to a daughter. — And I were not alone in this. Hebrin was with us the whole while. Me and him were surely brought together all the more after the years we spent taking care of this lovely, willful girl.
She illuminated our lives — and no, I do not mean using Hebrin as Fireball practice target. But rather, watching her grow into a brilliant young woman, a mage of the Trust, and now a mother to two wonderful children, no less.
As I said to Helene once, Hebrin and I did it backwards: Raising a kid first, then getting married.
But it was also how I knew that he would someday be a devoted father to our own offspring, when the time comes.
Again in the spirit of doing things backwards, I had offered to Helene to become our daughter formally, once Hebrin and I would be wed. Before anyone of us will make such a "crucial" decision, however, there is one consideration to make.
With it, I will conclude my already long speech. I thank you in advance for the patience.
Indeed, Hebrin and Helene were vital in getting me back on my feet, in the years after the death of my first husband Amand Xilo. — A great man to some, a villain to others; Whoever he might have been in life, he died as a traitor to the city I call home and defend.
Yet, one's heart works in mysterious ways. For many winters I could not escape his shadow clutching my heart in death's grip, and I am grateful to all of you who were there for me even when my sanity was... obviously questionable.
It was shortly after the birth of Helene's twins, that I knew there was no more place for this shadow in me. That I were free to love another with all my heart, and not share him with a grave. Someone who has earned every inch of my heart. Someone I can trust with my life. Someone I have been very lucky to entwine my lifepath with.
For I finally learned, that Amand Xilo had not died.
Instead, he donned another face.
Another name.
Another act.
And he truely became this act, as the years went by.
But why bring up the one who ridiculed me by making me cry over a dead bugbear's body, you might ask?
And why now?
Believe me when I say that I'd gladly bid him farewell forever and not evoke his shadow today, if not for one ...detail.
It is the father of Helene's children who wears this face and name. Vesdrac Noss'tau. And he tells me that she has been aware of this fact all along, intendedly deluding me. She, whom I have loved and trusted as my own daughter.
While I am happy for her and him, as for anyone who has found love, and I honour her choice to respect another's secret... Need I explain that I cannot call her "daughter", all things considered.
A wise man told me once, that a perfect life stringed together by white lies is not worth living in. And I would like to believe that I am done with that page of my life. A thank you to Hebrin, for holding my hand, neither leading, nor following. These have been hard times, and the times ahead will not be necessarily good. Hebrin knows me as I am. My true face and name and all that is beneath and above these."
~Song for Miriel and Hebrin~
Written by Sher'Cha
Edited by Miriel
Under the calm skies of moments crowned
Paths in life, wandering as they do
Each other echoing, fates resound
Completing, balancing, one from two
A weaving together, a tapestry
Strengthening bonds of the lives we share
Created through natural artistry
Blossoms in time under gentle care
Feminine, insatiable, vigorous
Powerful, coursing, rigorous
Flowing through, patiently directing
Passionate, steadfastly protecting
Masculine foundation set in stone
Authored through discipline slowly grown
Willed unto eternal endurance
Shield of mind wisdom bade his defense
Water flows over the foundation
Born from touch, an unique creation
Not simple straightforward extension
But a new altogether invention
Powerful variance harmonize
Magnify nurturing love's reprise
As water and mountain are entwined
Strong apart, strong anew as they bind
Under the calm skies of moments crowned
Paths in life, wandering as they do
Each other echoing, fates resound
Completing, balancing, one from two
A weaving together, a tapestry
Strengthening bonds of the lives we share
Created through natural artistry
Blossoms in time under gentle care
~Poem for Miriel and Hebrin~
Written by Arania Moonshadow
Like a wave, that crashed unto a rock
I was
and the sand was my enemy.
Each time I hit the shore
it would take a part of me.
You were like the sunshine
warming the coolness that I had learned.
Reflecting hope
On my direction
Slowly
I followed you back, into the deep
warm
sea
Against the course of wind, that I had for so long
allowed to control me.
Now
I just ripple
in the depths
of your love.
An hour before midnight approaches, a slender elven figure emerges from Falkirk's. Clutching a cloth wrapped object she hurries to her home on the North end, a place some may know as The Retreat. As she approaches the door, a figure in Ebony robes steps from around the corner and initiates a conversation. The woman lowers her hood, and in the light of the reddish glow from the Ebony's staff, is seen to be Miriel Hana, Commander of the Visimontium Sentinels. The two speak in somewhat calm tones, the face of the Commander neutral, and matter of fact. Her words end the conversation, and the Ebony makes a few quick movements. A large, green fist knocks the elf to the ground.
"Thats a shame." He says, and a few more movements release a wave of negative energy that draws her soul from her body and sends it to the afterlife. Fully visible at this point, the Ebony peers about while drawing a small serrated knife. A few quick strokes separates the woman's head from her body, and with a more complex series of movements, the man disappears.
A trail of blood, large at first, then progressing to smaller drips is all that marks the path he takes from the scene. The lifeless, headless body of the elf is left lying in front of her door...
...A voluptuous figure clad in black silk edged in shimmering red glides gracefully to the scene. Her hood shields her face, though her rich red lips catch the light as she looks to the blood with a growing smile. A purple pixie appears next to her and the two speak in hushed tones as they consider the door. After a short time a consensus seems to have been met and the two turn in a single motion and start to make their way back as they came.
A pair of very small black robed children step from the shadow of a near by building. They are holding hands, one glints with golden scales while the other is almost ashen and pale. With a musical laugh the voluptuous figure swoops them both up in her arms. The hood of the ashen skinned child falls back, revealing a shock of raven hair in thick curls that frame his young face. With pride in his cool blue eyes he pulls a golden spike from his robe. The woman sets the children down as they reveal a skull, the bottom jaw seems to be missing. The golden hands of the matched pair neatly plunges it onto the spike held by the boy. The group whisper a moment, giggles and smiles all 'round. The pixie flitters down and draws up the boy's hood and taking hold of both of the children the trio disappears.
The silk clad figure goes back to the doorway, the Sentinels take notice and she spends a few moments speaking with them in relaxed tones before they go back to their posts. Finally she stands before the door where she carefully lays a bloody bottom jaw on the stoop. The connective tissues glitter in the streetlights, their ragged ends telling a violent story.
The woman's hands move in a quick complicated pattern and she is gone.
Excerpt of a Sentinel file:
This is what occured: I was returning home, both hands busy carrying a painting. Vesdrac was waiting for me in front of the door. He started a conversation, mentioning how displeased he and Helene Stillwater were with the negative consequences of me revealing his identity as Amand Xilo, upon my wedding celebration. Whether he did not like what I had to say, whether it mattered at all, I know not. I know that he cast a Bigby's Forceful Hand on my person, pinning me to the ground in a daze. The next spell he cast was Finger of Death, which ripped my soul from my body. By the time I returned to the world of the living, I found my possessions and what was left from my body tossed where I fell, by the front door. The head of the body had been severed. I requested of the Sentinels in the area to move the remnants away. They are to be incinerated when no longer needed as evidence. I am to remain at my home, The Retreat, Academy District North Lane, throughout the week...
....A woman and two children, together with a small pixie, have approached the house last night, one of the children carrying a bloodied skull. The description of that child matches that of Aman'dul (Jr.), Helene's son. It is likely that the trio have been Helene herself and both her children from Vesdrac, although other than the boy, they have remained cloaked the whole while. A purple pixie has then led the children away, and the woman has set down the jaw of the skull. Later on same pixie has delivered a note. The signature is that of Helene's familiar, Dramiss, who also appears as a purple pixie. After receiving the note which contains mostly personal accusations and finding it to include a line questioning the security of my home, I have requested that guards be positioned at my door for the time being.
Commander Miriel Hana
...Not long afterward, an enraged young man with raven hair and stark tattoos across most of his body stalks out of Falkirk's portalling tower and makes his way straight north. Entering a door at the northern end of the narrow waterway that snakes through the district, he disappears for some time. The sound of crashing bookshelves and unbridled yelling can be heard from inside.
Less than an hour later he marches straight to Falkirk's, war spear in hand. Noticeably absent is his slightly oversized rich, deep, purple velvet cloak...
Publically posted in Mikona:
To Vesdramand Xilo'nosstau
Ves,
I know ya spent ya life pickin' on helpless folks an' unsuspectin' women. I mean, how else could ya bag ya whore daughter an' make kids with her, right? Musta been some kinda "Well, I ain't technically ya pa, not by tha rules a' tha Nanshin. Here we can bang anybody we like, so long as ya heart says it's true..."
But enough is enough. I seen ya stalkin' at Elf Gate gate when it's a place ya been outlawed from. Congrats for bein' so godsdamned sneaky, an' havin' retard Guard types around ya. Well, not ta mention tha cowards what say stuff like "There's nothing we can do" an' "He left, didn't he?"
Why don't ya come ta Mikona where ya know people hate ya for bein' a two-bit sellout, a swag whore who'd suck any cod for a little bit more twinklin' goodness? I know there's lots a' ya old friends here who wonder, "What ever happened ta that Bad Man?" An' then say, "Oh, I think that whorebag Nan gave him some kinda great thing so he could keep on keepin' on. Staff maybe? Or a cloak?"
I would love ta see ya at tha Rock an' catch up. I mean, Kero's is right there! I know we chatted a little bit about ya whore wife an' kids — or wait, were it daughter an' grandkids? Gods, I'm so dense sometimes. Maybe ya can fill me in, ya sick elf twink. I'm a man what'd poke just about anythin', but my own kid?
Wow, ya's kind of a hero.
Respectfully yours,
~Angus Blacksail
You ignorant waste of space. Helene was near grown when she was taken by that bitch Miriel from the orphanage in Blandenberg. She didn't have a surname to know of until I found her again, then she learned she was a Stillwater. That bitch Miriel didn't start calling Helene her daughter until after she found out she was rich.
Get your facts straight!
Dramiss
Blow me.
~Angus
Angus,
I'm at Kero's. Come and talk.
V.N.
After a brief exchange, during which the Ebony mage suggests that they "dismiss the ridiculous pleasantries," a sudden but pitched battle ensues, starting in Kero's and carrying outside to the road and just south.
Minutes later, a corpse litters the roadside. A badly bruised but alive young man with raven hair and tattoos up and down his body walks painfully away, wondering how he will arrange to return a couple things.
One of them is not, however, the bloody, severed head that dangles from his bloody hand. That belongs to someone else entirely.
On the morning after, the young man with raven hair and black tattoos, only partially covered by his armour, strides through the city square. He carries a spear in one hand, and the other grips the severed head of a male elf. He knocks, or rather, kicks on a few doors until he finds that which will open for him: the door of The Retreat.
He is out soon, this time without any ruckus in-between. The severed head is no longer in his possession but his rich, deep purple velvet cloak is back on his shoulders. A pale elven woman leans in the doorway behind him. The man motions to the blood remaining on the pavement, "An' clean this up." In an uncouth manner he urges her to get inside.
Miriel stares at the sky, as if he is not there, then at the pavement, as if there is no blood there. Once more the door of The Retreat closes behind her, quietly. She is not seen out again for several days...
...With the change of The Retreat's locks in progress, the monk standing with the Sentinel guards at the front door supervises what part of the work takes place on the spot. The lady of the house herself is not seen outside until the work is completed, the locksmith rewarded handsomely for both craftsmanship and promptness.
At dawnbreak, the elven couple step out of The Retreat's doorway. The man's face is rigid but his eyes mirror the gentle violet glow of the morning clouds. The woman is deathly pale but her features are soon invigourated by the light of the sun rising above the temple hill.
Commander Miriel breaks the formality suggested by the Sentinel uniform she wears, embracing Hebrin her husband. She dismisses the guards from their post at the door and walks on with them to the Sentinel Headquarters.
Months pass...
Through the afternoon, in the temple of Yeraiah's communion hall, a pale elven woman clad in silver willow green kimono sits in a corner with a gorgeous redhead, as human as they come, the skirt of her form-flattering dress of passionate colours splayed around her legs.
The two speak in hushed tones, the redhead clearly worried while the pale one's face is an open book going from embarassed to outright defensive. At some point however she raises her voice.
"My almost-daughter having children from my once-husband whom I think to be dead, and supporting him in hiding his identity from me, I can understand." Ignoring the redhead's attempt to interrupt her, she goes on, louder, "Prophecies aside, love happens. What's even better, she is loyal to him, and he to her."
"Him being enraged by my public revelation and the consequences of it, even if these are consequences of what he has incurred on himself in the past, banishment being the end result... Suppose I can understand this, too." She places a reassuring hand on her frustrated companion's arm. "I know him that well, Arania."
"Helene herself has a temperament and where she might have taken my wish for truth at long last as personal vengeance towards her, and want me dead... Fine." The words seep out not without effort. "But her children, be them god-sent or whatever..."
Terror clearly grips the woman fragile frame, she shudders and shrieks, "Her children... CHILDREN! ...playing with my skull in the street?!" Miriel lowers her head until her forehead touches her knee, crawled in a ball, sobbing her heart out. "I'm such a... total... failure... as a mother... which I tried too late to be..."
Her friend cradles her in her arms, letting her cry but makes her point loud clear, starting with "There comes a point when you can't blame it all on upbringing" and going on to "Some are simply born, there is a lot more from nature than we care to admit..."
The discussion calms down and before too long the two even laugh but as they depart from the busy hall in the evening, neither is smiling...
Seasons change...
In the aftermath of yet another illithid attack a Sentinel returns home visibly on the brink of collapse with exhaustion, carrying a thin plank under her arm. She leans the plank against the wall, under the door sign of "The Retreat" which appears to be a plank of the same size. The frail elf calls a strength spell and uses a heavy pick to rip off said door sign, recently refashioned in a savage manner to also include the letters A and B.
She completely demolishes it and uses the flat of the pick's head to hammer the newly brought plank in its place. On it she inscribes "The Retreat" anew, using the pick's sharp end this time after setting it aflame. The pyrography resembles the original carving. Miriel sweeps the remains of the old sign and enters her home but briefly; Soon again out the door and into the night...
"What right have I," she questions the four walls, "to ask of someone to abandon the ways of deceit? Would it be no less right for him to ask me to reconsider my own belligerency to such practice?"
Miriel's eyes idly scan the room and stop on a portrait hanging on the wall. A family portrait. In the dark, she can barely make the outlines of the figures but the picture is vivid in her mind. The memory is as fresh as if it was only yesterday that she posed for it at Janur's studio.
- Upon a carved wooden armchair sits a young, shapely beauty. Her silk gown is blood red under the thick ebony lace and gold thread embroidery. Dark mahogany locks, porcelain skin, ruby lips. Eyes that overflow with the intense blue of deep, still water.
- Resting her delicate hand on her shoulder, a petite woman stands by protectively. A mother figure. Her skin and hair gleam as if virgin snow under her gown of viridian velvet. Her gaze of ice and steel completes her proud pose.
Miriel groans in pain, holding her head in her hands. Her voice resounds somewhat alien in the empty room.
"And then, she seduced your husband, leaving you think he was dead. And then, when the truth came out, she encouraged him to take your head off your shoulders. And then, their children played with your bones at your doorstep. Could it be because you felt that you had no right to intervene in her choices?"
She sits up, hesitant to lower her feet on the cold floor.
"You were right, Haloisi," she snorts. "I was not fit to be a mother. I was, and I am, simply, someone lucky enough to survive her own mistakes long enough to learn from them."
Long pause.
"Well. Such luck can only last for so long."
Four full turns of seasons have passed since Miriel and Hebrin's wedding day in 2224 ...
Copy of a private letter to Eudaimon Dawnblade of the Luminous Order of the Mind:
20th December 2228
Eudaimon,
I have said it before, and I will say it again: If there is anyone able to play Wilsash's game, that is you. I am convinced in this not because of the last few steps that you took in your relationship with your fears, with your own self. What has built my confidence in you are events from even older times.
Allow me to explain.
Only days ago you told me that you had known me best by my silence. The few and far between moments of it, as I would jest. And I responded that I had known you by your words. But this is not entirely true, as there is more to it than that.
Over the years, I have been fortunate to cross my path with great thinkers and believers, notable representatives of vastly differing faiths and philosophies. Ways of Balance, Extremities, Freedom, Pragmatism, Altruism, Understanding, Respect, Self-Respect, Self-Assertion, Dust.
You too have taught me a lesson, one that I have in the past only registered with my mind, where I should have done so by heart. You have taught me much in words — but so much more in actions.
The lesson that you have gifted me is the lesson of Compassion.
I once chastised you for your actions, and painted your courage to challenge Wilsash in the stark colours of rashness. I had always viewed compassion as a danger, an obstacle in the way of the clear assessment of a situation. What I failed to see was that compassion alone, would not bring anyone anywhere. — Nor would any belief, in and of itself.
It is what one wills to do for this belief, what they actually do, that may bring them to move mountains.
In my planar theory lectures, I divided evil and good by how much one actually cares about the sanctity of life and freedom of choice of one's own self, as compared to the sanctity of life and freedom of choice of everyone else... and what they would do to preserve either.
As I write this I also recall the words of Vanar Alhaldren, "When we care about the outcome of our actions, bravery becomes much more than facing our opponents. I think we must find bravery even more so in facing our own choices. Before, and after we make them."
And I was not brave.
I was afraid of feeling.
I was afraid of intervening, yes I was.
On the day of celebration for my union with Hebrin, I spoke words that make me cringe in retrospect. I said that he deserved my heart, effectively admitting that I had accepted a life's partner, — a husband, — based on his merits rather than love itself.
Would it surprise you if I tell you that my feelings for him have not changed? He is no less dear to me than he has been before. My life with him has not been loveless but I could never give him all of me. I trust him but I could not imagine allowing him to share my self the way I asked you to.
Yes, I have made steps forward. Not only in recognizing my feelings for you and giving in to them, but in other things as well.
Many winters ago, I took a child under my roof, watched her grow, and was too afraid to intervene in her choices. Then one day her children played with my skull in the street. Even before that day would come, however, I had already arrived to the decision to establish an orphanage and daycare for the children in Visimontium. To give them an equal ground to start from, providing them with informed choice.
And it is but one step.
I have found that I can do so much more for my beliefs.
It was a Blackguard — Angus of all people — who told me that if I would not do what I want, then I am a hypocrite. And I will also add — a coward. While his own interpretation may be limited to the assertion of the Ego, my interpretation is wider. One should act on one's beliefs. And it is my belief that everyone has a right of freedom of choice, so long as it doesn't crush another's freedom.
As I write this, I have left the Blue Order and applied to the White. The only hesitation I had with that was dispelled when Vanar assured me that he himself, as a White Archmage or otherwise, would not force his assistance over someone who may not want it.
I have allowed myself to stand for my beliefs.
I have allowed myself to love.
I know that nothing is forever, and I do not let it trouble me.
I believe in you.
I know that you believe in yourself, no less.
Good luck. We shall see each other soon.
Elemmiire
OOC:
The dated entries in this record correspond to February 2009 — February 2010 RL.
The latest entry is from May 2010 RL.
See also: Miriel's Journal, detailing events from 2004 — 2008 RL.