*she sits quietly in her room at Aunt Alianna and Uncle Benjamin's home. Her face is pale, dark circles under eyes as she picks up her quill to write*

Dear Diary,

It seems silly to write to a book as though it were a person, but just yesterday I was reading Lady Gwena Delione's diaries, and she always began and wrote in just this way. So perhaps that's how it's meant to be done, and if I'm to do this at all I ought to do it the right way.

I've been trying to keep to myself mostly, politely turning down offers to go outside or other activities. I do try to chatter as normally as I can during meals and the other times I cannot remain alone without being rude. I smile, as well, so no one shall worry over me. Uncle Benjamin is very good at knowing when one is upset. Father asked me to be strong, and I'm trying so hard. Aunt Alianna keeps me well. She makes me smile, and she's very kind to me. Paul's the only one, though, who really knows how scared I am.

Sometimes when I wake up crying in the night, he'll hear and come to comfort me. He stays until I'm asleep again. It's nightmares, nearly every night now. Last night was the worst. I was standing on the dock, watching Father's ship return home. I was so very happy to have him back again, and he was waving from the deck, glad to see me, too. But suddenly lighting snaked down from the sky, striking the mast and setting the sails aflame. Sharken climbed the sides of the ship and began to devour the others aboard.

One attacked Father, and sunk his teeth into his shoulder, but he fought well and got away, diving into the water. He began to swim toward me, reaching out a hand so I could help him up. He could swim no longer because his shoulder was bleeding so badly. My fingers just touched his when I was grabbed from behind, lifted from the waist and pulled backward. I screamed as Father began to sink beneath the water, unable to hold himself up, with no one to pull him to the surface, and the one who had pulled me away began to laugh. It was a laugh I recognized, because he was my birth father. He shouted to Father that I was his. I tried so hard to get away, but he held me so tight I could barely breathe, and began to walk away. Father was calling my name, asking me to help him, and he slipped under... That's when I woke. I was shaking so badly the bed rattled and I could not be calmed until dawn. I spent the entirety of this morning praying to all the gods I could think of that Father would be okay, and come home again soon.

I don't want to be left alone again.

Sincerely,
Mairin Carazzi

--Journal entry 3 August, Mairin Carazzi

"shakes her head and wads the paper up tossing it in the trash"

How can anyone even think to link my name with ExiledGM? And once in the gossip section isnt enough.. Its there twice? I havent seen him since the day he arrived here to take over. And he is more crude than Alterio if thats even possible.

I have had nothing but sleepless nights since the night i watched Alterio leave. My days are spent at the manor taking care of the children and the manor. Oh and lets dont forget i have 9 shops that I have to make sure things are running smoothly at. And i make sure the orders are filled correctly each day. Ive even opened a new shop this past week, which makes the ninth one. And im working on another one. Its stocked and ready to open soon, just havent thought up a name for it yet. SO when the hell would i have time for ExiledGM hmm????

I just want Alterio to come home...I miss him so much and trying to stay busy to make the time pass faster. But even trying to stay busy, a second doesnt pass all day long that he isnt on my mind. And at night it's worse. The silence of the house, the kids sleeping I feel so alone then.

I havent been to 'Dome much since that night. I just havent felt like socializing. Id rather suffer this loneliness alone than to burden others with my problems. And sitting talking about it to people just makes it worse for me. So i just stay away.

I was at Dome for a while today. I heard that Alterio may be returning sooner than expected. Gods i hope so. I miss him terribly and so do the children. Alkane and Thirlia tried to go look for him today. I had to drag them out of the water. I dont know how much longer i can keep things going with out him here.

"Please come home soon Darling"

"She tosses the quill down and looks at the page not really seeing the words she wrote, she rises and closes the journal"

--Journal entry 4 August, Vixen Blade

Things go poorly. His impatience increases. I knew such steps would prove to be ill. It was better to have remained veiled. He spent so much time locating her that his temper and patience are worn thin. He assumes she hides. Contacted I was told to throw off the ruse and reveal. Play on emotion, he said, we haven't the time to play. They protect her too well. I did as best I was able. Misgiving and ill feeling cause me to err. She remains in their hands. They don't realize what shall occur this way. She must choose. I pray my name is told to her. My worry was once for myself alone. Now my worry is for her. He shall not be pleased with the time. She shall come, but choice will be gone. Pray it be quick or the worst occurs. We are both now at stake. My loyalties are fast. Blood calls to blood.

F

--Journal entry 5 August, Felina of Lyndette

::She sits on her bed in her ships' quarters, writing in her dog-eared journal::

The days seem endless, the nights an eternity to bear. I went to the sea to find refuge from Crystal Shores, to find peace with myself. Now all of my shipmates are dead, my husband is lost at sea, and I am alone in the storm.

::She hears a crash and the boat shakes tremendously::

Home! I have landed upon the sandy beaches of Crystal Shores. I think that things will be allright. I hope Saria and her new family are well, and I hope she has forgiven me for being a bad mother. As I hope the rest of the citizens have. Here's to a new chance..

--Journal entry 5 August, Danirat

I am at peace once again.. well as much as peace as one can be while they miss one they love.

Azorah returned last eve.. at Jasmins call however. I am glad to have her back, I spent most of last eve just curled up against her.. and infact I have spent a good part of this eve in draconic form myself so I can be closer to her.. It is good to be held again.

The other day I actually fell asleep in the arms of Tigs.. and she fell asleep in my arms we both just needed the comfort of touch. It was good to sleep properly again. I also mended the bridge of friendship between Vix and myself the other day.

there has been much more going on but thats all i care to right..

*he lays down the quill and leaves the writing to dry*

--Journal entry 5 August, Taeliesyn

I saw the archbishop this eve. She was sexy. She wored an outfit that haunts the male's organs. Although she had some yellow stains on her teeth.

I have no idea why am I writing on these nice black pages. But the doctor at the Asylum recommended this. For whatever reason, I don't know. I attempted to save my maiden (Jane Maichen) but she had turn corrupted after Cryptia's soldier (Breuse) decided to leave. What is it that has cursed her? And my Leprechaun friend, my best friend in the world (Thirlia) has turned her back on me. Why is he doing this?

Then he sent one of his goons (Black_Warlock) to hunt me. But my guards manage to take him away after I strucked him with my holy sword (Tavern's chair). Haha!... Cryptia shall not get me, for I am the son of Khlamar and Ezeel the greatest Gods on this planet who loved one another and spawn me in the stomach of some woman named Mum (Donk). Now... now is the time to burn that witch (Lina) that haunted me. That goon of the leprechaun attempted to strike me twice!...

But first I must tie my shoes. ::he picks his hair while looking up at it and hunches his back:: Food!.. yes food.. if they only knew my hair is specialy made for this: to trap the bugs and leaves that fall into the charismatic black mane.

I remember seeing a big fish a day ago. This fish was awfully starving. So I found the nearest living thing a cockroach, (a peasant) and offer it to its mouth.

Now that I recall, I think I am missing a finger or two... wait what is this red liquid falling on to the page... ::he acutally writes that down and looks up::

The ceiling is leaking, I must repair it.... tomorrow I go out hunting for some big moving food. I wonder if I can convince that fellow in the weaponshop to sell be a crossbow

-the end of the letter w extends into a line off the page without a signature to follow-

--Journal entry 5 August, Juggler

*Niamh opens a new volume. Strongly bound and blank-paged, it has a foggy mirror on the cover. She draws a quill from the book's spine dipping it into an inkpot and spreads the pages tipping her startling gray eyes upwards in thoughts of how to begin*

And so we leave our land with these words:

May the wind be at your back in travel, the sun be on your face.
May the road rise to meet you and take you to the sweetest place.

Never before have such familliar words pulsed with the light of enlightened understanding and appreciation. I have glided on the guilded faces of the Mother Seas and alighted on a new Isle. Small yes, but ringed with such sand as sugar and such lagoons as liquid gems. ..Though the waters seem to be infested with something that frightens everyone, the aura hangs above this dome where everyone meets, I could not cast sight deep enough to see these terrors. And perhaps their sight is one beyond the mortal description of flesh and bones. But, every village has their plagues of fear and horror.

It is again I can stretch this impatient legs, trudge the length of this place, feel the fresh scent of the sea liven what flows within me. Islands are always a comforting place, they remind me of home, whisper of the far goings-on abroad, and bring hope with the tides.

*Niamh lets the quill in the inkpot a moment, thinking back on the evening and wondering what went on that was not spoken on*

It seems the inhabitants her kindly enough, for the two that I meant seemed, though somehow distracted, very kind and well-to-do not at all imposing like the young courtiers of large cities. Perhaps these thirsty eyes may live to see the manner of gentlemen yet.

I find solace here, both in solitude and among new faces. This, this is the way a home ought to be. Mayhap I may finally find a home. Find happiness that does not linger, dwell, and flee, but that stays strong and still in the heart, like the roots of trees.

I do pray I can receive well any ill that comes across me soothe any ailments of the soul that come my way.

*she smiles, finishing..*

It is to the skies I offer thanks this evening
for guiding me to this place
the shimmer on the distant waves

--Journal entry 5 August, Niamh Finn

:::::: Takes a seat at his small writing desk once again. The sparse light from a single oil lamp his only illumination. Yet somehow he finds the darkness comforting, though it was never so before. The visions. The images of the lovely blonde haired maiden he has come to learn is named Rowsy haunt his every moment still. He begins writing as the words flow from him unhindered... describing his desperate search for her. ::::::

Where is my Love? I seek her in song and find her heart in harmony. I seek her in a forest and find her eyes among the leaves. I seek her in the sky and find her thoughts among the stars. I seek her in the wilderness and find her hands have crafted the hills. I seek her in the mountains and find her feet firmly planted there. I seek her by a brook and find her peaceful strength. I seek my Love and find instead I am surrounded by her love.

:::::: He pauses here as he thinks back to long days of searching the island for this mysterious beacon of light only to drag himself home in a dreary, lonely state. He hears of her sometimes as he mingles with the locals. She is never there when he is though. It is as if fate conspires to keep them apart. He hears of her numerous visits yet knows that she knows not of him and his clandestine inquiries about her. He begins writing as once again his muse, who he has discovered to be this.. Rowsy... inspires him once again. ::::::

I have fought so many battles, and lived so many lives, and I am tired and weary.

I am broken in spirit, mind, and in body, and yet I persevere; for what I did not know.

I feel as though my course has run and the end is nigh, but something keeps me going.

A light appears upon the horizon, I know not what it portends, and yet I follow it.

As I approach I see the brightness of a new beginning, and I begin to step livelier.

The shining visage of a beautiful golden-tressed Healer greets me, and I smile.

Like the phoenix risen from the ashes, I rise and love greets me with open arms.

I find new strength and new hope to carry on and fight the good fight, for I have found a love that transcends all before it.

The battles are not done, and yet, I know, because of the love of this golden-tressed Healer, I shall always be victorious in her eyes.

To thee, Rowsy, I raise my eyes to gaze upon the depths of your soul, and I am strengthened.

To thee, Rowsy, I kiss your hand and feel the warmth of your love, and I am encouraged.

To thee, Rowsy, I pledge my love and see the the power you hold, and I am yours.

:::::: The quill simply falls from his hand as a single tear falls to stain the bottom of the page followed by yet more. Again the thoughts of her bring the swirling mixture of sweet pleasure and unbearable pain to his mind, heart, and ever troubled soul. Finally, after he can shed no more tears, he leans over and blows out the lamp allowing the darkness' lonely abyss to swallow him once again in it's murky depths.::::::

--Journal entry 6 August, Lord of Masks