A prince. This is more my forte. But to whom? Allegiance with my blood. She seems ill. So quiet. Perhaps she is confused. Such a naive one. The "Prince" has gone mad. How peculiar. Advantage? Perhaps...sweet little one. He waits, and I try to hold back, but how long? Such temptation. Am I so strong?

--Journal entry, 12 September, Felina of Lyndette

Twisting, turning little plots and schemes. It's like little mice scurrying about, planning this, fraying that, darting about the cat's feet when he isn't looking... But he's looking at me, and I'm staring him in the face. And right now that's how it will be. No scurrying. I'm too tired, so I'll work in my own way, and we'll see how it all comes out in the end.

I've had to stay quiet. I'm trying so hard to push them all away from me now but it's proving more difficult. Vixen doesn't trust me. Well...oh well. There's not much I can do about that. If people had listened to me when I warned in the first place...but no, it was all denial, people thinking it was all a big coincidence. But there's that valuable handful, and those are the ones that are hard to shove away from.

Ben...he's who I can cling to right now. My surrogate "big brother". He's safe, because he's on the run. I just wish he weren't so cryptic and morbid right now. Oh, I love him so dearly...how could I stand it if he were harmed? I won't have it. Another, and another. The list grows longer. So I will handle things on my end like I told them all I would. I can be a cat as well.

So all hail as I walk upon this tangled web, never to be caught in it.

"Queen" Jane Shayla Maichen

~the entry is folded and well hidden in an inner pocket of her shirt~

--Journal entry 12 September, Jane Maichen

:::::: He sits on the edge of his bed, mask on the small table beside him. He looks out the window, allowing the warm sun to bathe his face in it's sultry light. His thoughts turn to his meeting with Rowsy the other night. He looks over to his desk and spies his journal. He takes a seat before it and dips his quill and begins to write. ::::::

Well... I finally met her. We met at the 'Dome Sunday night for dinner, though we never did actually eat anything. *chuckles lightly to himself*. She was even more radiant up close than she seemed from afar. She was also somewhat... reluctant. I could see it in her mannerisms, in the way she talked and moved. I could not blame her. I could see in her eyes how much it hurt her that I did not come to our last meeting. But how could I explain that I did not come because of Roxanna? I couldn't. I can't.

:::::: He stops for a moment as he thinks of Roxanna and what she meant to him. Rowsy is in many ways the opposite of Roxanna and yet he finds himself giving of his heart to her anyway. He knows he must live his life for himself now and put that chapter behind him. Gods it's hard! He decides to let it go for now and concentrate on the other night. ::::::

Rowsy and I talked for a bit. It was... cordial. It was polite. I told her my feelings finally, face to face, or mask as it were. She simply seemed perplexed as to how I could love her so having never spoken to her. I tried to explain though I fear my thoughts were all ajumble and my tongue was twisted in knots. I've no doubt I seemed more a fool than a bard in her eyes. We shared a drink, though she seemed not to care for her brandy, and a short conversation. Then the other patrons started to make their ways out and so we did as well. We went for a walk on the beach. We talked more. We looked into each other's eyes.

Then... to my surprise... we...

:::::: He stops writing as a smile makes his way across his face. A rare occurence for him indeed. If at all possible he loves her even more now. He looks dow to the page and thinks, "No need to finish that thought. We both know what happened next and that is all that matters." He thinks on love and what it means. His love. Their love? He will have to wait and see. He begins writing on a new page. ::::::

Love can be like crashing waves and rushing rapids or like a gentle stream, a quiet pond. It can burn fierce like a blazing fire or be comforting like a warm blanket, wrapped snuggly around you on a cold night. It can be powerful like a stampede of wild horses or be soft like a flock of white doves. It can be all consuming passion, driving you with wild abandon or , calm and comforting, a lifeline through rough waters. But whatever shape it takes, true love is strong like a majestic mountain, ever present and lifting you higher. Smooth and flowing deep like a river, supporting you with gentleness. Peaceful like an open meadow, drawing you to rest... and always constant.. like the spring after a harsh winter.. bringing new life and joy to everyone it touches. Love can be so many things ... and in the end it is the only thing that sustains.

:::::: He smiles again as he waits for the ink to dry so that he may close the book. As he waits he takes out a piece of parchment and pens a letter to Rowsy.. short.. and this time to be hand delivered to her. ::::::

When I hear you near me. When I feel you close to me. When you do not say anything, and we still communicate. Those unsaid words, that mean so much. When I keep looking at you all the time, and you smile and frown at the same time. When you smile with questioning eyes. When we hold hands and sit for a while. When time stands still. When there is just you and me. When our heartbeats unite and our thoughts coincide. When I love you more than you do, and you love me more than I do. When our lips are sealed in a never ending kiss.

At that time my love, 'twill surely be absolute bliss.

~Camden~

:::::: As the ink on the note dries he makes his way over to his nightstand and takes up his mask. Still... he must not let her see his face for surely she would be horrified by his scarred visage. He dons the mask and takes up the parchment and rolls it neatly and tucks it into his belt. He looks to his journal still laying open and pens a few last words. ::::::

Our time together was far too short for my liking. I hope that when next we meet we can spend more than but just a few hours, wrapped in each other's words and feelings. *He almost laughs out loud as he writes the last*. Besides, I never did get my ring back!

:::::: He chuckles and heads out... in the daylight for once. To the Dome? The Bazzar? The beach where... ? Even he does not know. He goes to find... her. Rowsy. And knows he may be out and about much more from now on. ::::::

--Journal entry 12 September, Lord of Masks

:: She grabs a piece of parchment and such as she glances aboutt he now empty 'dome quickly. Her mind a whirlwind trying to comprehend what had happened not too long ago. She writes franctily, barely legible as she tries to sort her thoughts.::

I saw and spoke with Lord pryce's borther not too long ago. He told me how to stop this insanity. Alterio isn't Alterio....he is a puppet in this game, a string on his soul that this...person...feeds off of. We don't have to kill Alterio and for that I'm glad...and if this works....he will be back to his normal self.

::Glances to the pebble in her other hand and lets out a breath::

Someone must go into Alterio's dreams...find a connection, and break the ties this person has on him, then we will be able to rid ourselves of him, and Alterio will nolonger be under his control. But this is where I am worried. The one who does this must be pure of heart, one of innocence, one that is strong but can see. And they must dive into the volcano, pure of heart and true faith. Tiger says that Ben is all of this...I don't know...lately his faith seems to have faltered...and besides if we are not right on this we could send him, or who ever, to their death...something I don't want over my head. Tiger must have known what I was thinking when she said that if I go, I could very well be killed also. Then who? Who do I ask for advice on this? I feel tempted to do this myself...I feel I could...and if I go to my death it would be no one's fault but my own.

I can't ask Ben, or he will want to go...and Vixen would be the same way...though I doubt innocence is her strong point.

So, what do I do? How do I go about this? I wish Lord Pryce's brother was able to answer all of these questions I have... Hell...I wish I could...

::She rubs her temples, feeling a headache beginnning::

Perhaps time will tell...if we have time...No doubt the person behind all of this will know that we spoke and I also doubt he will take this lightly. So now I am on my toes more than before, glancing around at noises, that was only Donk in the kitchen....

:;She sighs softly and glances around once more::

I pray this will all be over soon...and we will have a slight normalcy restored to the island...

~Lina

:;She folds the paper and tucks it away in the pouch on her side. She then looks back to the pebble, wondering and truly considering doing this herself...::

--Journal entry 12 September, Lina Metallium

Dear little book I keep with me wherever I may go,
I'm writing in you now because my conscience tells me so.

You see, I play the trumpets now to blare songs for the King
but if you listen closely
it's a hollow note I ring.

A slave I am, once proud servant of my Queen Lady Jane.
We midgets now are overcome, with nothing more to gain.

So if you find yourself enslaved like we little people are,
here are some tips to save you, and to let you travel far.

Roll the carpet out on time; fake your notes! Play clear and true..
Basically, do everything the monster tells you to.

Don't look him squarely in the eyes.. try staring at his knees
If he barks at you for service, ne'er forget your "thanks" and "please".

Don't cry too loud if he kicks a fellow midget, don't shout or glare or even fidget. Or he'll hurt you too, he's just so mean...
Is it TRUE he bought us from our queen?

He said we were cheap, the price not too steep, and this deal was meant to be. He said Queen Jane put us on the clearance rack, we were buy one, get one free!

::pauses and sobs silently then stops as he hears "Midgets, FORWARD!"::

I must go now for I hear his call, if I'm late I will be beaten.

::cringes as his orders are barked from afar::

He needs me to draw a pot of hot water for him to soak his feet in.

::leaving his journal under his little coat after he signs it::

Broken of spirit, and late to be saved,
Enzo the midget, the Emperor's Slave.

--Journal entry 12 September, Enzo the Midget

"sneaks back to the cove to get her journal and leaves, she goes into the forest and sits down leaning back against a tree as she writes"

What a messed up day.. Im done.. I wont run anymore.. Nems is dead. I lost my claymore when i threw the damn thing at an ogre and he took off with it..No more damn running.. Im tired...Im going to Coconut Grove tonight and give up i guess. And cuse I dont trust Jane..I have to make sure Alterio is not killed. She stood and watched the ogres and drow attacking, me, Tiger, lina and jasmin.. She did nothing but watch. And all this time she is pretending they are her friends. Bah. I didnt have to return to dome to fight. I went out the back when Nems and those guards showed up. Made it to the forest and turned and came back to fight them. I was safe .. i didnt have to come back and put my life in danger. "smirks" coulda stood at the edge of the forest and watched like Jane did.

But im not like her, thank the gods. Im honest and I have no reason to pretend. Then Black yells at me cuse i lost my weapon. Well duh Jane could have pulled her bow and shot the damn ogre and i could have gotten it back. He can stick his head up her ass all he wants. Wait til she shoves that dagger into his back, and see how well he likes it.

Well I better go , will write more later as a slave not doubt.

"sighs and shakes her head as she closes the journal"

--Journal entry 12 September, Vixen Blade

*She sighs and steps inside. Seeing the journal, she decides to write*

Oh, why didn't I stop my work earlier? Perhaps I might have spent more time with Ardwin. These past days have been extremely busy. It seems I haven't had time for myself at all. I must admit even for the little time I did get away, I enjoyed it. I think I'll read of Jane's books tonight. At least I won't be working. A short entry for a short day.

*she stands grabbing one of the books and falls onto the bed with it.*

--Journal entry 12 September, Nestasia

:::sits outside the cave where Taelie lived, journal opened across her lap as she begins to write::: Well, here it is, day two, and I still wear no collar. I dont know how Vixxy is faring, I havent even wandered out of the grotto today. I will have to soon...supplies here are very short. I will have to chance an outing to the dome to get food...there is little here since Taelie's departure. I dont know, even, of the happenings at the dome today, no one knows where this grotto is..besides myself and Taelie, and he is not here. I hope Vixxy is alright...I know she misses her children, she has to. I want so badly to know how Lia is...how she is handling all of this, or if she even knows. I dont dare go to Coconut Grove to find out. I wonder if Ben is alright, I worry about him. He wants me to come to Tei's grove, but, I dont want to draw anyone else there.

:::sighs as she thinks, brushing her hair from her face, then begins writing again:::

I dont know what all is being planned, but, I do know plans are being made everywhere right now. I just cant shake the feeling that this is NOT my Uncle...it may be his body, it may be his voice, it may even be his mannerisms, but, this is just not the man I know as my Uncle Alterio. Someone, somewhere has to be using him as their pawn, but who? Could it be Mumphra, like everyone believes? Or could it be someone else? I have no idea, I just want everything to return to normal soon.

I know now how Ben feels, running and hiding from everyone. Leaving the home you know and felt safe in. Not knowing who you can trust anymore, and who is your friend. I just dont know what is happening. I will have to go to the dome tomorrow to find out what has happened. If Im caught, then Im caught. I will have to wear a collar until everything subsides. Ive survived worse...I can survive this too. Anything has to be better than hiding.

Enough of this, my mind is made up. I will return to the dome tomorrow. Im tired of hiding like a thief. I cant remain here with no supplies, and no clothes. Ill just have to take my chances.

~Lyrias~

:::sprinkles sand on the page to dry the ink, then tucks the journal away safely, returning inside of the cave, curling up on the floor before the fireplace and falls into a fitful sleep:::

--Journal entry 13 September, Lyrias Dreams