Shaklyri's Journal
Eleasis - 1372 DR
Midsummer,
Year of Wild Magic
I returned to Scarville today to meet my acquaintaces at the inn.
I watched a halfling and a gnome who were playing and telling stories at
the inn. Most of their stories centered around the Zhentarim, and had something
to do with a black wrist. I take it from the laughter of the crowd
and characterization presented that the stories were mostly spoofs, still,
I get he impression that the zhentarim are feared and hated here. I must
remember to ask Darviss about them.
While the gnome was playing, some of the people at the inn were dancing
at least that is what my companions called it. I got funny looks
from them all when I said they didn't seem very happy. Their dancing
was so stiff they barely moved their bodies. From my fourth or
fifth summer I have been taught to dance by being completely aware of myself
and my companions, to acheive a balance so complete that I meld with the
music and with the other dancers. I can dance hope, frustration, anticipation,
sorrow, and perhaps most importantly, praise and thanksgiving. It
is strange to me to see the ordered manner of their "celebration."
I made the mistake of commenting that if this is what the lighter races
call dancing, I am glad to be drow. That earned me a dark look from
Darious, I think he must have been trying very hard not to lose his temper.
I wonder whether he would act differently towards me if he realized how
much his actions are leading me to wish I were full drow. The sun
burns cruelly.
Out in the market area there were a few other entertainers; a family of
tumbling dwarves, a jester, with whom I had a small sparring session before
I realized he was detracting from my race in his jokes, and a human female
with a harp, who was kind enough to allow me to learn some human tunes
from her. I of course shared some of my music with her.
Tomorrow we go to investigate August's drow contact.
Watching
Midsummer
Shieldmeet,
Year of Wild Magic
Well, in spite of the fact that August can't even maintain his normal degree
of fear and trepidation long enough for a successful surprise attack, we
found the drow contact all right, though Darious killed him before he could
be questioned. He came alone, save for a three-foot spider he called
"fluffy." Despite his arachnid pet, this drow, "Zad" August calls
him, appears to be House Jaelre. His hand-crossbow bolts are fletched
with Jaelre's blue-and-green and he wears the holy symbol of Vhaeraun.
In addition to the contract he brought for August to renew, Zad carried
signed contracts written up between a group named by the contract "poison
finders" and others. One was with Alisitra the Red on behalf of his
enclave in Scardale town and the other was with one Kizzaf the Red of Feather
Falls. Eleni immediately demanded that we go to Feather falls to
deal with this Kizzaf. She explained the the moniker "the Red" indicates
some particular group of evil wizards who were involved in the murder of
her husband and son; apparently Eleni knows Kizzaf as a trapper, and had
never suspected her until now. The pack also contained a map, however,
which was marked with the locations of all parties involved in the contracts.
The other two locations are closer, the rest of us feel we should investigate
the drow outpost on our way to the other two targets.
When discussing our plan of action, Darious would only demand that we go
immediately to wipe out the drow outpost, and he did so so fervently I
feared he would be incuatious and cause our deaths. I said as much,
to which he replied that hating one's enemies and underestimating them
are two different things. A valid point, I suppose. Eventually
he agreed to share his reasons with Eleni, and she decided he had reason
for his hatred. I will trust her judgement for now, but I do want
to know why He blames me for whatever it was that made him hate drow.
The moon was full tonight. I danced. Alone, but not as alone
as I have been for the past month. Shamil stopped me, and kept asking
me if I was all right. Then we left to track down the drow.
It is now moonset, and we are stopping at the edge of the woods to rest.
We plan to take off across the grasslands in the late morning.
Having followed the trail pointed out to her by the gnome, the half-drow
drew her sword over the corpse of the huge spider. Suddenly, though
she half expected it, her prey jumped to it's feet, then jumped at her.
The spider never reached it's prey. The two halves of its body fell,
one on each side of the dark-skinned huntress, splattering her with various
slimes which comprised its bodily fluids. A footstep fell behind
her, and the female spun around to face the approaching sun-elf.
"You can tell Shamil it's dead now." The half-drow did not relax
her stance.
The sun-elf wiggled his fingers and said nothing. The ichor dripping
from the bard's clothes disappeared. The female raised an eyebrow
at the young elven male.
"Who are you, and where have you hidden Darious?"
"What?"
"You just did me a favor."
The wizard raised his shoulders so slightly the half-drow doubted he would
have recognized the shrug. "You killed drow."
"Of course I did. He was evil."
"As I said."
The sun-elf turned and strode out of the woods. His companion stood a moment
without moving. Then, like a dark reflection, she followed his path
back to the group.
1 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
It is near moonset again. We have stopped for a short rest before
we continue. Nothing of note has happened save that we had to walk
a little out of our way to avoid the den of some wild beast. Eleni's
poor ferret lost its tail investigating the situation for us. We
should reach the drow outpost in a few hours. It was nice to have
companions to share the watch; I was able to sleep fairly deeply.
2 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
Much has happened, though I cannot write of most of it, as I was knocked
unconscious early on. Near sunrise we knew we were near the spot
marked on the map, but could find no landmark or structure to guide us
to the exact location until Shamil nearly got snapped in half by a large
spring trap. The platform she was standing on at the time sounded
hollow, and Shamil said she could hear voices with the earring she had
gotten as reward when Walton's belongings were confiscated. I figured
it was a trapdoor, so I lifted it up, and took two poisoned bolts in the
chest. I was out for the next several hours.
When I came to, my companions told me they had cleaned out the drow outpost
while I was sleeping, and indeed there are quite a few dead drow in the
tunnels below. There were a few, they say, who escaped on foot from
another exit. We are going to track down these few before they can
warn others about us; the last thing we need is for house Jaelre to decide
we are a threat.
We caught up with our quarry late in the afternoon, after having been thrown
off by two false trails and almost falling into a pit trap. Once
again, I managed to get knocked out almost immediately, although this time
most of the party was hit with the poisoned darts. When I awoke,
only Eleni and Asgar were awake. I pulled out my harp and tried that
healing song-spell I've been tinkering with to see if it would work it
did! Feeling much better, I sorted through the small heap of loot
that had been stripped from the bodies of the drow we were pursuing.
There were several holy symbols of Vhaerun in the pile; I took them and
threw them into the pit with the burning corpses, though it made my skin
crawl to touch them. Nothing else in the pile held any interest for
me, except perhaps as trade goods.
Darious was still sleeping when I finished sorting, so I decided to investigate
and see if I could find any clues to what he was hiding. I rifled
through his pack, but found nothing particularly informative. There
were two books: one looked enough like a spellbook I didn't even try to
open it. The other book seemed to be more mundane, though it was
written in a very strange script. There was also a pouch with an
odd assortment of stuff in it, though, aside from a lock of pink (I swear
it pink!) hair, any of the items could well have been found in the various
jars and boxes on Riff'ttl's laboratory shelves. Shamil, who had
woken up by then, seemed to object to my investigation, which I thought
seemed odd, coming from her.
By the time Darious and Grunk woke up, the rest of us had set up a passable
camp, though I don't like the idea of sleeping in the open grassland with
so many people and the smell of burning meat calling to every predator
within several miles. While we ate our evening meal, Eleni said that
Grunk's cow had attacked a drow. Apparently, this is very un-cow-like
behavior, and from what I have seen of cattle in my travels, I am inclined
to agree.
Eleni still wants to go to Feather Falls without delay, and Darious apparently
they found a map in the drow stronghold, and as soon as he saw it, Darious
became fixated on one of the several Jaelre settlements marked on it.
I wonder what he knows of this particular settlement, and why he wants
us to go there. If it weren't for his intense hatred of drow, I would
say he were a Jaelre agent sent to lead us into a trap. As it is,
I find this highly unlikely and there is nothing in his possessions to
support that theory, but I must not discount it. What better cover
for a drow agent than to hate drow?
We still disagree on where to go next. Tomorrow we will go to Harrowdale
to resupply, then we will either go hunting that Jaelre settlement Darious
is obsessed with, or to Feather Falls to avenge the death of Eleni's family.
I favor the second course. I have no reason beyond the general combatting
of evil to attack house Jaelre, and it would pain me to pass so close to
home without stopping; but those who are responsible for the murder of
two elves, and one an infant That is deserving of violence.
3 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
We broke camp hastily this morning, as a pack of coyotes were eager to
get to the scorched bodies in the pit.
We discussed our eventual destination over breakfast a few hours after
breaking camp. Despite the respect I feel for Eleni, I have reached
the point where I can no longer trust her judgement with regards to Darious.
I have learned to kill drow I know are evil, especially those caught in
evil deeds and deals, but I cannot simply murder them out of hand unless
there are lives at stake. I believe there is hope for them; I know
first-hand the depth of love drow can be capable of, and the world will
be less bright if those flames of compassion that do exist in house Jaelre
are snuffed. In the process of trying to explain this to the others
without actually admitting to reservations about killing drow, I demanded
again, more forcefully this time, that Darious tell us what he was hiding.
This time he did.
Apparently, Darious was a member of a resettlement mission from Evermeet,
the island to which the elves have retreated over the past few centuries.
They came out of a gate, he says, into Cormanthor forest, and were ambushed
by drow. When the attack was over, he says, he buried thirty-two
of his clan, and could not find seven others. I agreed that this
was reason to attempt revenge, but that it, being the farthest of the many
locations in which we have discovered evil lurks, could wait. Darious
nearly exploded at that, saying, "You don't understand, there were seven
missing. She might still be alive!" Without thinking, my mind
put facts together and my mouth asked, "Is she the one with the pink
hair?" "I didn't say she,'" Darious replied. "But you did,"
said several of the others.
Of course, my knowledge of the lock of hair was admission that I had been
the one to rifle through Darious' belongings. Eleni seemed shocked
that I had done such a thing, and I could not convince her that I did need
to know what Darious was hiding. I told her that I needed to know
why I was being asked to help Darious visit vengeance on his enemies, and
she argued that I was not. I am though, whether Eleni wishes to see
it or not Darious is nearly insane; I know the look, I have seen
it often enough in Vlandril's eyes. Now that I understand his insanity,
I wish I had known its cause sooner, for I would not have broken his fragile
trust.
4 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
Today we spent most of the day in Harrowdale town, as Shamil had to wait
for her crossbow to be repaired. I bought some provisions and spent
several hours sparring with Asgar it was nice to face an actual being
again, though I'm out of practice and not used to fighting anyone taller
than I am. I learned some new maneuvers.
We left town around late afternoon and travelled into the night, long enough
to reach the eaves of the forest. I notice that I am travelling faster
with the group, perhaps because I am sleeping better.
5 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
This morning Darious and I shared the third watch. He spent most
of his time fiddling with this red gem that Eleni found on one of the drow
we killed. He kept sticking it to his forehead and setting it against
other objects. I spent much of my time writing new songs, though
of course I could not work out the melodies properly on watch. At
one point, Darious asked me what the name of the god of the drow we killed
was, meaning Vhaeraun. He thought it might be the trigger word to
make the gem work. I told him it probably wasn't safe to call the
god's name so close to territory held by house Jaelre. He inclined
his head and said no more until breakfast.
At breakfast, he was relating to Eleni what he thought the stone might
do, then realized that it had been getting less red, more orange-gold.
He tried to see if it would work for non- spellcasters or divine spellcasters,
but it would stick to neither Shamil's nor Eleni's forehead. I suggested
that it might still work for other arcane spellcasters, and he said, "well,
I guess you are a bard." He put the stone to my forehead and it stuck.
When he pulled it away, there were greenish flecks in the red-orange stone.
We are guessing that the gem changes color based on the race of the wearer.
6 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
We were woken in the night by some big flying things that attacked us.
I don't remember much, because I managed to stab myself in the thigh early
on in the battle. I was never the perfect fighter, but I was competent
enough that Zeerith allowed me to do scout duty. I wonder why I am
suddenly so inept. The only successful kill I've made since finding
Darviss has been a spider, and the only other successful hit was on Walton;
I wouldn't be surprised if Darviss had something to do with that one.
I need to find a way to improve my fighting, or I will be a danger to my
companions.
I apologized to Darious during our watch early this morning; it is the
first time I have ever apologized to a male. I think, if I ever do
make it back to Mietza, that I should apologize to Tebryn publicly.
If we are going to live with the lighter races, we will need to know their
ways, and I would not have the young females of Mietza find their way into
the world without ever having seen a female apologize to a male.
Perhaps for drow it still works, but outside our settlements, it does not.
Not long into the morning we crossed Duathamper. Almost immediately
we intercepted a Wood-elf being hunted by a drow- House Jaelre again.
There were more, he said, desecrating a shrine which it is his lot to care
for. He, like Eleni, wore the symbol of Rillifane Rallathil.
Eleni, of course, was adamant that we drive them out and end their sacriligious
desecration of holy ground. I could agree in part; I know I would
be nearly mad with outrage if an evil host were encamped in Mietza's bonfire
glade. We are, however, on a rescue mission for Darious' clan.
I told him that as far as I was concerned it was his choice: to tolerate
the delay, or not. Eleni convinced him that the santcuaries of the
Elven gods must be preserved. We travelled to the shrine, built into
one of the larger trees, and killed or drove off the drow that occupied
it. We also put out the fire from a trap that had been set by the
drow. The tree will survive, though it will be scarred.
Nym, the Shrine's guardian, has offered us his hospitality for the night,
and we may stay tomorrow as well. We are talking of helping to repair
some of the damage and fortify the shrine as much as we can against the
return of those drow who escaped our attack. Nym has as an animal
companion a mountain greatcat, and I believe she speaks; all three of the
elves seemed to understand her, though she was not speaking Elvish.
Speaking of animal companions, Grunk has lost that cow of his she disappeared
sometime during the battle. That idiot half-orc went out after the
battle to look for her, but found only a dead human wizardess with strange
wounds around her neck. He dragged her back by the hair, an indignity
which apparently even Darious couldn't tolerate. When Darious tried
to carry the woman into the shrine so as to spare the corpse the indignity
of Grunk's indelicate treatment, grunk slapped him back. As much
as I have no love for Darious, he does not deserve such ill treatment when
actually doing right. I tried to reprimand Grunk (maybe I should
not have been so quick to do it with my hand) and woke some time later
by the fire. Eleni and Darious told me Grunk had slapped me.
At least I missed the mud when I fell, though how I managed that I don't
know. It would have been much less comfortable to wake up crusted
with mud.
The elf sits in silence across the coals of last night's campfire, watching
the half-drow out of the corner of his eye. Normally, the bard mumbles
and mutters to herself during her watch, but tonight she is silent, staring
at the fire. Suddenly she speaks. "I've been thinking."
The wizard turns his head to face her more fully, she is speking to him
without moving her eyes from the fire. It is the first time she has
addressed him without making eye contact.
"I think I owe you an apology. I should not have looked through your
gear. I did not realize the depth of your pain, only the depth of
your secret." The sun-elf doesn't notice the slight relaxation of
the half-drow's shoulder muscles, which tighten again when he speaks.
"Then apologize."
"I... I don't know how."
The young wizard barely conceals a sigh of annoyance. "You mean to
say you have never in your life apologized for anything?"
"Oh, no!" The Half-human quirks one side of her mouth upwards.
"I've apologized to the priestesses many times, and to my mother my foster-mother,
that is, and to Qilue and SiNafay often."
"So how is it you don't know how to apologize to me?" The sun-elf's
body trembles as confusion barely holds frustration in check.
"Well, I've never apologized to a male before."
The sun-elf freezes for an instant before speaking. "You have never
done wrong to a male?"
The female's light yellow eyebrows draw closer together in confusion.
"No. There is one apology in particular that is long overdue.
When it happened, Sial talked to me, then to the Weaponsmaster, and he
explained it to his son."
"Explained it?" The female darts a cautious glance up at the sun-elf's
face, confused and by the note of quiet hysteria creeping into his voice.
"I... I was very young. I did not understand how important it is
that we be kind to our males... what they have been through..." She
turns her head away, staring at the sky through the high canopy of the
forest.
"And it was EXPLAINED for you! You didn't have to apologize to him?"
"No. He is a male." The bard's voice clealy states that she
feels this fact explains it all.
The wizard replies with a strangled sound. One of his arms twitches
nervously, drawing the female's attention. "What difference does
that make?" he practically roars.
"We.." the half-drow pauses, and winces slightly, as if she hears her words
through another's ears and likes them little. "We don't apologize
to our males. At least, I've never seen it done."
There are a few moments of silence, during which the sun-elf's shoulders
slowly relax. "There is much that is wrong with your ways.
How do your suitors feel aobut a female who will not apologize if they
are wronged?"
"Suitors?"
"Yes, suitors," the full-elf sighs, "prospective mates?"
The half-drow's face clears visibly as she comprehends him. "I have
none; I am half- human." Her voice carries notes of sorrow, which
he chooses to ignore, and finality, which he chooses to contest.
"That does not make you uglier than any other drow. You do still
have elven blood, I suppose, and that counts for something."
The female's brows draw together again, then move back apart. "Oh,
I could get mates, I'm certain, but my children would never be full drow;
I do not want them to live between worlds, as I have. It is not easy."
"You would not necessarily..."
"It is a risk." She interrupts him. "Especially for me.
I am half human, and they breed like rabbits in springtime."
"That still has nothing to do with whether you have suitors."
"How so? It is my choice."
"Once they show interest, perhaps."
"Show interest? They are males. When I am ready, I choose a
male and invite him to my bed. He either agrees, or not."
The elf throws his hands into the air. The half-drow tries to hide
her flinch.
"Your whole society is so... backwards!"
"Backwards?"
He sighs. "Let me see your sword."
She hesitates, then sets the hilt of her father's sword in the wizard's
slender hands.
"You explain it," the elf commands the naked blade, turning the handle
toward the bard again. He watches as her face twitches with half-expressions
and she murmurs questions and answers. A time comes when she is silent
for a few minutes, then she sheaths the bastard sword.
"So," the Elf says. "Were you going to apologize?"
"Yes," she replies. The half-elf looks up, and watches the sky lighten
slowly. Her companion sits across the ashes of the fire, waiting.
A
Belated Apology
7 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
Grunk is truly an idiot. He's going to get himself killed, and if
we're not careful he'll take us with him. He decided to go looking
for his cow during his watch last night and never returned, so we had to
spend the morning rescuing him from the drow who were still lurking in
the forest. We managed to take a hostage, but he would not answer
our questions and was so full of hatred he wouldn't even let me tell him
of the hope of the goddess, though it didn't help that Darious stabbed
him in the leg and twisted the dagger, sending him back into unconsciouness.
Even after he came to, the male kept asking us to kill him, then he lunged
forward, impaling his head on the dagger Darious had been threatening him
with. Darious then began tracing designs on the dead male's skin
with his dagger. I tried to stop him, but the others said, "let him
work it out." They don't understand. Indulging insanity and
cruelty only allows them to grow that is how the drow have become what
we are. What Darious did today, I have only heard about in the stories
we were told of the underdark as children.
Darious did discover what happened to Grunk's cow. The woman Grunk
found in the woods yesterday had been wearing a ring. Apparently
the ring turns the wearer into a cow, and comes off only when the command
word is spoken or the wearer dies.
It rained all day today. The drops have stopped falling, but the
clouds have not yet cleared. I cannot see the moon.
8 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
We left the forest shrine early in the morning. I did help Darious
with the gem he's been toying with this morning House Jaelre knows we're
here now, calling the name of that thief of a god will not make things
that much worse, though my spine tightens when he says "praise Vhaeraun"
in my native tongue to activate the item. I hope he can figure out
how to change the password soon. He has asked me to teach him the
drow language, and I have agreed. Maybe he will teach me what I don't
understand of sun-elven ways.
9 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
The moon is waning, as is my hope of becoming a bridge between peoples.
If Darious is any indication, the surface elves will not be ready for friendship
within my lifetime. Perhaps I am merely to be a bridge between Mietza
and the outside world, even if a little-used one.
Chalithra said she had hoped to send me forth as a servant of the Dark
Maiden. She told me Eilistraee would be patient, would wait for me
to follow my own path into her light. At the time, I laughed inwardly
at her presumption what if my path leads not to Eilistraee's priesthood,
what if I forswear my devotion to the Dark Maiden in favor of some human
goddess? Now I would say to Chalithra that the goddess may be only
as patient as those she seeks, and the question now is not whether she
will call me to her service, but whether I will be prepared to forsake
any potential allegience to human dieties when the call comes, for I realize
now that it will.
And I know what my answer will be. I have learned to love her people
in a way that the lighter peoples either can not or will not. I was
aptly named, it seems. Now the bridge scrambles to prepare its foundations
for whatever load she commands it to bear. I was raised to love her,
to learn from her, and to serve her. I see her face in the moon,
hear her footsteps beside me in the dark, and know she will claim me as
her own. I cling stubbornly to the independence I enjoy as her gift,
but with less certainty every moonrise. That night is fast approaching
when I will hear the music of her hunting horn and answer the call with
my whole being. I know this without knowing how I know, and it frightens
me.
Decision
10 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
I am going to try to be brief, as I did not get a full measure of sleep
this past night, and I will need all my faculties to avoid offending anyone
tomorrow. This morning, when Grunk and I woke for our watch, Asgar
and Shamil were missing. Eleni befriended an owl, who helped us track
them, though it had little regard for what was going on on the ground,
so it is only luck that kept us out of the old pit trap on the path.
I am getting tired of pit traps.
Around mid-morning, we encountered a human fighter a cleric of Torm also,
I believe, whose errand to bring a message of alliance to Tangled Trees
had been interrupted by pixies. Since the signs surrounding Asgar
and Shamil's disappearance also indicate pixies, we joined forces for a
time to solve both our problems. Around noon we entered a clearing
and found Shamil, bound, hanging upside down from a tree with a naked female
pixie dancing on her shoes. We began negotiations, but Darious apparently
grew impatient and cast a magic missile at the pixie. In response,
the pixies cut the rope holding Shamil up, allowing Shamil to fall into
a pit. After we had healed her, we made an appointment with the pixie
to negotiate for her other "pet" about a mile form there in another hour.
The human, Ed, tried to take Darious to task for his magic missiles.
It didn't work, of course.
When we got to the appointed place, we had to answer three riddles before
she would release Asgar to us. As per our agreement with the pixie,
Asgar came holding Ed's scroll (all over which the pixies had spilled red
ink). Since we needed to rest up, Shamil needed more healing than
we had the skill for, and Ed was going that way anyway, we headed to Tangled
Trees. It was oddly refreshing, when challenged by the guards, not
to be the most suspected member of the party. I saw other half-drow!
It was still uncomfortable to be interviewed by the sun-elf who currently
leads the council of elders, but at least that was mostly a group interview,
and Darious did most of the talking. It will be a few days before
Shamil is ready to travel, they say.
11 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
It was not Asgar, it was that thrice cursed pixie's half-wit mate.
We went back today and got the real Asgar, though I will not recount the
details. I need to go sing, to calm down a bit. It's a shame
the evening is so overcast.
12 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
We are in Tangled Trees for several days while Shamil recovers from the
wound to her
lung. I decided this
morning to ask after the half-drow I had seen upon entering the city.
I was told there are two though that is only two now, I have discovered,
there are more who live here. I went first to speak with the female,
Jaelnyre I have since learned she is called: I pity her, though I try not
to. She is as bitter as Darious, but even less willing to share the
causes of her grief. When I asked what it means to be half human,
she replied only that humans are hateful, as are all other races.
I should have shared with her the Maiden's promise of hope, but I do not
know how to open her to the world she has chosen to close out. Darviss
thinks I should watch out for her, especially after Erik said she comes
form the north, where the Zhentarim hold sway.
Erik is the male half-drow, though he could almost pass for full drow.
He intrigues me, though he frightens me. He is a dedicated follower
of Ilmater, a human diety of suffering. I discovered through inquiry
that he was raised in a monastery of Ilmater, which explains why he has
chosen to follow a human goddess instead of an Elven one. Some of
the things he said to me frightened me. We seem to have reached much
the same philosophy, but we express them in very different ways.
I went this evening to watch him he assists a moon-elf with archery practice
by making himself a moving target. I admire him, but I feel that
he is a fool to give other elves the opportunity to shoot at half-drow.
It is not a habit I suggest allowing them to get into. They may learn
to shoot first, ask later. It is one thing to let a wound bleed clean,
it is another thing to allow others to rub salt into it.
The half-drow she seeks, one of only two others of her kind she has seen
in her lifetime, sits on a boulder in the centerof a stream. Above
and below the rock, many small cascades are formed as the water leaps from
hill to valley over a thousand tiny shelves and spikes in the streambed.
The female gazes in curiousity at the male skin almost dark enough to
pass as full drow, though his ears are a bit short and rounded, hair and
eyebrows completely gone, and eyes closed. He sits cross-legged with
his elbows on his knees, moving not at all. Not wishing to disturb
his meditation, the female sits on the streambank in a position closely
mirroring his own, though she is unaware of it, and sets her naked sword
across her knees. Her hand rests gently on the hilt, in an invitation
to the spirit trapped therein to speak.
:Not very cheerful, was she?: the female hears in her mind. She knows
the sword refers to the female half-drow she has just spoken with.
"I could have been like her."
:But you aren't. Watch her, that sort is dangerous.:
"Perhaps. Either way, she is at the tavern and I am here, to learn
what I can from this one."
:Then why are you silent?:
"I do not wish to disturb his meditation. That would be like him
interrupting my daysong."
"Which, I would never do." The male half-drow's voice sounds, deep
and soft. The famale twitches slightly in surprise. He has
not moved, and his eyes are still closed. "You wanted to learn something
of me?"
"I am trying to learn what it means to be half-human, until today I had
met no others like myself. The other one is little help; it is difficult
not to pity her for the pain she must have endured to close her so completely
to others."
"Jaelnyre?" The male begins moving slowly, stretching each muscle
as he moves it. "She wears her suffering on the outside, surrounding
herself with it. She has yet to learn how to bring it inside herself."
"Do you know what causes her suffering?"
"You must ask? You said yourself you might have been her. Beyond
that, all she will tell is that she came from the North. It is a
hard land, I hear, where the Zhentarim hold sway."
The female glances at her sword. "Father," she asks, "What would
they have done with her that she would be so wounded?"
:The Zhentarim would not care that she is half drow, only what she could
do. I can make no guesses at what they might have contracted her
for.:
"Your father is in your sword? And he possesses such knowledge that
you would ask him these things?"
"He tells me he does." The female looks the male over carefully.
Still on his rock, he has twisted around until he is standing on both hands,
still facing her. As far as she can tell, his eyes have not opened
since she approached.
"And what sort of wound is that, where you do not trust him. How do you
deal with it."
"I..." The female looks at her blade, then at the waters rushing
past. "I want to trust him. I choose to believe him."
The male shifts his weight to his right hand and raises his left off the
rock on which he sits.
"How do you know all these things about me?"
"You called your sword father' and did not say he has that knowledge,'
instead, he tells me he does.'"
"Did I say that? It is a good thing then that I was not trying to
hide it from you."
"One thing I do not know about you, and that is your name. Mine is
Eric."
The female begins a wry chuckle. The male places his left hand on
the rock, removing his right to his side. "That is always an interesting
question. I ask humans to call me Hope."
"Ah, but we are not human, here." His eyes are still closed.
"During my childhood and youth, my friends and foster-family called me
Shaklyri. I do not know if my birth-mother ever named me."
"An interesting, though not unfamiliar, wound, that, but I did not ask
you what you were called as an infant or as a child. I asked what
is your name who are you?"
The female shifts uncomfortably. "I suppose, then, that is what this
journey is, a way for me to find who I am, by understanding that side of
me which is human."
"It is a wound to you, then, that you do not understand your human side.
I assume then that this foster-family you speak of is all full-blooded
drow?"
The female nods, then realizes the male's eyes are still closed and speaks.
"Yes. It is an experiment, an attempt to establish a society on the
surface which is fully drow and can live in peace with other races."
"Are they all followers of your dancing drow goddess?"
"Mostly, though I know I did not tell you that I follow Eilistraee.
The wisest of the priestesses is our leader, and it is mostly children
who do not yet profess loyalty to the Maiden."
"I hope you have told no one here where you come from." The male
sets his right hand back on the rock.
The female shrugs. "No one has asked, so I have not had to lie."
Eric smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling, though they remain shut.
"Spoken with wisdom, as fits a priestess."
Shaklyri stiffens. "I am no priestess. I merely follow the
goddess and sing her songs."
The male lifts his left eyebrow. "The insights you have shared are
those of a priestess. Perhaps you need this place more than I do."
The male springs from his hands, somersaults in mid-air, and lands, standing,
on the streambank. "The flowing water is good for cleansing and healing
wounds, of which I am a mass. It is solitary, and has direction,
yet the current is not so strong as that of the ocean. I prefer this
solitary life, though I suspect you, following the bardic life, prefer
the larger currents of the ocean for your cleansing."
"But the ocean's currents are circular, are they not?"
The male looks at her, his solid, pure white eyes open for the first time.
"And so, you make my next point for me. This is also a good place
to listen for a goddess' voice. Ilmater speaks here, perhaps Eilistraee
will too."
The female does not answer.
The male turns and walks away from the clustered cataracts.
The female stares for a few moments at the boulder in the middle of the
stream. She sees the path she can follow to wade to it. She
sheaths her sword, turns, and walks away in search of her companions.
13 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
Today I thought perhaps Darious would like to begin learning my language,
as he had asked about it. When I went to speak with him, I found
him playing with a small child, a male sun-elf named Marlestrea, perhaps
forty years old. It was odd, walking up to Darious and seeing him
play with a child he was smiling, and not the sort of grim, insane leer
I've seen recently, but an honest, happy smile. He reminded me almost
of Rynn'Lyr playing with the children outside our dwelling. The child
seemed confused by my association with Darious and for that matter, of
my presence in Tangled Trees. I have heard that there are three or
four more half-drow living here besides Eric and Jaelnyre, I should think
in forty years here he would have come to understand that not all drow
at least not all half-drow are evil.
I have noticed Darious spending time outside some of the local shrines.
I had not known that he was particularly devout, but then I have never
seen him surrounded by elves before.
14 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
Darious plays with all the children here, but mostly with Marlestrea.
I wonder why. There is hope for him, for when I see him with the
children, I know he is not completely insane.
I might dare to sit
near Eric's waterfalls tonight at what could be called moonrise, though
it is the dark of the moon, currently. I am afraid, though, that
Eric might be there.
Prayer
of Preparation for The Run
15 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
I have spent some time trying to learn about surface elvish music.
It is everywhere here. Where harp, pipe and lute are not heard the
wind brushes through chimes in the trees and water trickles over rocks
with a sweetness of tone I have rarely heard. I find the music pleasant,
much of the time, but it sings of peaceful rest sings it without words
even. There are few songs here which teach, and they all waft gently;
they do not soar or stalk, like the music of my people. Some histories
I have heard, many of which paint drow as entirely evil and irredeemable.
I try not to listen. I am coming to know myself as half human in
body only. My heart is drow, though I dare not tell those around
me. I fear for my people, if these elves and half-elves so similar
to those of Mietza in their basic joys and griefs learn of the Moonhallow
and its hidden secret.
At least these last three nights have been clear, the silver sliver of
the moon shimmers new above the trees, almost as she hangs over the tower
trees of my home this time of month. I realize how stubborn I am,
as I face the fear Eric faced me with two days ago by the waterfalls.
I cannot keep my eyes off the moon, no matter how hard I try. The
conflict is almost resolved. I wonder how it will effect my interaction
with the rest of the party, when I pledge my entire life to a drow goddess.
I am not ready yet, but almost. I must be, for I feel I have little
time before she claims me, one way or the other.
16 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
Before we left Tangled Trees this morning, we met with a few of the elders.
They have been scrying the area where we believe the drow settlement to
be located. They have confirmed the location and provided us with
some additional information, the most helpful pieces of which are that
the settlement is a staging area for many of the recent attacks on Mistledale
and that there are generally two guards at the main gate and six more on
the walls. This was enough to convince the others that the northern route
is the preferable one, as we are less likely to encounter raiding parties.
I had preferred to go that way anyway, as I know some of the territory
and should know if the feel of the forest is wrong for the place.
17 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
Pixies in the trees giggled at us all night. It was very annoying.
Then we walked all day.
18 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
I must have been steering us slightly southward of my intended trail, as
we ran into Rauthauver's Road, and had to travel along it until we reached
the Moonsea Ride. At the crossroads, we happened upon a merchant
caravan.
Grunk and Asgar tried to attack it as it passed; Eleni had to entangle
them to let the caravan get away. We set up camp about an hour after
returning to the forest.
19 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
Got too close to home today. I think we are being escorted through,
but I couldn't see the scouts to know for certain. If we wake up
dead, I am wrong.
20 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
Left home territory and lost our escort. I can hear the river.
Asgar punched Eleni in the nose today at breakfast. He says it's
because she entangled him back at the crossroads. Alton stole Asgar's
pouch sometime shortly after. At least now he can't buy ale.
21 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
We followed the river to the road today. We passed very close to
some human farmers; Grunk and Asgar were heard plotting to kill the farmers
and steal their livestock. These half-orcs are getting to be more
trouble than they're worth. Eleni had to entangle them again.
From our campsite, I can hear the sounds of a tavern in the distance.
Asgar says he doesn't want to go to the tavern, which surprises me, but
at least this way he won't be drinking.
Asgar did want to go to the Tavern, but he didn't want us to know, so he
took off during first watch. We broke camp and headed to the tavern
as soon as we knew he was gone. When we arrived the barkeep, a beatiful
and very tall human with shining hair told us he had been harrassing the
patrons for coin to buy drink for a good while. She told us this
with a laugh, which put most of my companions at ease, at least for a bit.
I wondered for a while that she might still hold us responsible for his
behavior I would have used unexpected laughter to put people off their
guard though I liked her immediately either way.
Since we were already there, and since she had a room available which could
not only accommodate the entire party but locked either from the outside
or the inside, we decided we may as well stay the night. It was at
this point that I felt an interesting sensation a pressure, as if there
were something I had to do; I reached up to ask Darviss if he could sense
it, but it was him, screaming that he needed to speak with the barkeep.
After briefly explaining that my sword wanted to speak with her (I have
a feeling this is a woman one does not want to surprise, though the way
she casually accepted that explanation, I'm not at all certain it is possible
to surprise her), I handed Darviss to her. She stopped in mid-sentence,
stared at the blade for a moment, and asked me if she could "speak with
Darviss overnight." I nodded and asked if I could double-chek it
with him (though if he told her his name right off, I guessed he would
agree) and she continued her conversation where she had left off.
I handed Darviss back to her, borrowed my other blade from Grunk (who has
misused it; I must get it reparied when I can), and followed Asgar, who,
having discovered none of the party members were going to loan him money
to get drunk the night before we entered Jaelre territory, went out into
the street.
Aparently, Asgar just wanted to mope, and the moon was partially visible,
so I began singing though as long as Asgar was out there, I could only
do it with part of myself, it being necessary to keep at least half an
eye on him. A few minutes into my devotions, he went up to bed.
Almost as soon as he did, the barkeep came out and stopped me though
I'm not entirely certain how I knew she wished me to stop, as she did not
precisely interrupt. She told me there was a glade around back which
would afford me more privacy. I thanked her, and she walked with
me just far enough that I could find it. It was a beautiful, safe
glade. I could tell I was not the first to dance there, not by far,
and felt free for the first time since leaving Mietza to truly focus on
the Maiden. I completed my devotions, returned to our room, and will
rest shortly. One odd thing while dancing, I thought I saw a silvery-white
form. I only saw it out of the corner of my eye, for it would disappear
if I tried to look at it. Am I imagining things again?
Notes:
~ Grunk is a terrible liar.
22 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
Last night I slept better than I have since I left Mietza. In the
morning, Our hostess pulled me away from breakfast in the common room to
speak with me. She said we had mutual friends and proved it to me
by providing just enough information that she is either telling the truth
or is reading my memories (though the latter is entirely possible, I believe
the former). She did know Darviss as a living man, and she knows
Chalithra. She was able to give me some information about the settlement
we will be infiltrating, and we agreed that if I should pass that way again
soon, I should take with me a letter for Chalithra. I do like this
woman: she has a lovely laugh, and she actually wrapped Darviss up in quilts
and locked him in a chest so we could have some privacy.
Notes:
~ I cannot see what is in front of my face. I need to think more
about the things I see.
~ The escape route from the Jaelre settlement is poorly guarded and hidden
under a thicket of raspberry bushes.
~ There is a cherrywood chest of holy items and magic items the drow have
been saving for their religious ceremonies. It would be worth our
while to retrieve it.
Jump to "Prayer of Preparation
for The High Hunt"
"What do you know of Darviss?" the woman asks as soon as the door is
closed, her voice low and serious, though her eyes still smile slightly.
"Know? I only have his word on it, but he has told me that he worked
as an agent, subverting plots of the drow both in the underdark and on
the surface. Most of what he has told me makes sense."
"Did he ever tell you the name of the organization he worked through?"
The half-drow is silent for a moment, her eyes flicking to the left as
she thinks. "I think," she said finally, "he said he was a Harper."
Her eyes snap up suddenly to meet the silver- haired innkeeper's.
"If you are one of his contacts, that would make you a Harper."
The corners of the woman's mouth twitch upward briefly again and tilts
her head slightly. "And what do you know of the Harpers?"
"They are a group of meddlers harmless meddlers, I think Chalithra called
them."
The woman's eyes crease with laughter. "Yes, she might say that.
How is Chalithra doing in Mietza lately?"
"Well. The harvest..." The young half-drow begins to speak,
then stops suddenly. "You know Chalithra?"
"Yes. Qilue introduced us." The older bard watches the face
of the younger as she absorbs these words. She notices the subtle
signs of growing respect and wonder; she also notices that only one with
a drow sister would recognize them.
"Qilue Veladorn?"
The silver-haired bard nods. "It was she who sanctified the dancing
glade."
Their eyes met, questioning to knowing, for a few moments before interrupted
by the sound of pounding on the door. A low, shrill voice forced
its way through the cracks. "Aren't you done yet, Shaklyri?"
The voice acquires a sleazy undertone. "Whatcha two doin in there
that's taking so long?."
The half-drow grits her teeth, ignoring the implication made by the half-orc.
"No, Grunk. I'll be out when I'm ready." She turns her attention
back to the innkeeper. "I'm surprised Qilue felt it safe enough to
locate a permanent grove so near a large human settlement, but she is much
wiser than I."
"Not so surprising, really. I guard my sisters' secrets carefully."
The signs of respect and wonder are much more noticable at this revelation.
"Of course, the silver hair! I am so stupid."
"I wouldn't say so," the human laughs. "Many of Shadowdale are not
aware of what I am."
"Perhaps, but they have not been taught what they need to see it.
I have, and I didn't see what was right in front of my face. That
is what will get me killed."
"You may be right." The older woman's face becomes momentarily stony,
then she continues as she had before. "You gave your friends in Mietza
a bit of a fright. They saw you leading a band of half-orcs and elves,
but they knew you. They sent word to me to watch for you."
"I was off my reckoning. I had not meant to pass that far north.
Once I realized how close I was, I corrected our path. It would not
be safe at this time for Darious to know where Mietza is."
"Could you take a letter to Chalithra for me? It is not all that
urgent," the human adds in response to the half-drow's raised eyebrow.
"I could." The younger female lets her words out slowly. "I may not
survive this task we are attempting, and I'm not sure it would be safe
to go directly to Mietza afterward."
"True. Remember, though, every drow fortress has an escape route,
and this one is not well guarded."
A spark of interest lights in the younger bard's eyes, and she leans forward
slightly. "Darviss has told you of our plan then. I don't suppose
you also know how to find this escape route?"
"Yes, he has. Actually, may I have him back for a few minutes?"
The half-drow pulls off her sword and hands it to the tall human, who shoves
it between some blankets and closes the trunk they are in. She then
perches on top of the trunk, and motions for her companion to sit beside
her.
"Sometimes he hears too much. The escape route is hidden by some
raspberry bushes. There is also a box made of cherry wood in which
the drow have been saving holy items and magical items for their religious
ceremonies. It would be good to retrieve it, that the items might
be returned to their proper places."
"I will look for it."
"Assuming you do survive this encounter, would you be interested in becoming
a Harper?"
The half-drow's surprise shows clearly at this. "I... don't know."
"We are a group working for good, but each in our own way. Every
Harper can refuse a mission at any time, and we operate outside the local
laws. You would be free, in other words, always to do what you feel
is right."
"And why..."
"Why invite you? Your race is assumed by many to be evil. As
half-drow, you could enter into circles on that basis that it would be
more difficult for, say, humans or lighter-skinned half-elves to infiltrate."
The younger female nods. "I would be useful."
The silver haired lady shifts uncomfortably on the chest. "I would
not put it in terms quite so... drow."
This time, it is the half-drow who smiles up at the human. "No, but
you are not drow."
"True." There are a few beats of slience. "You do not
need to decide now. Why not return here after you have completed
your mission? We can talk about it then, if you are interested."
"Then I can deliver your message, and I could leave Darious here if needed.
That may be the best plan."
Prayer
of Preparation for the High Hunt
23 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
Yesterday we got as far as the river and decided we wanted to approach
during the day instead of at night, so we went back to the inn and rested
until midnight. Storm, the innkeeper, was good enough to wake us
up that we might arrive at the appropriate time.
We found the compound
around mid-morning. Eleni sent Hoot out to keep an eye on the guards
and Alton to find the raspberry bushes. We located the escape hatch
near noon, and snuck in. It was barely a crawlway, but we fit through.
We found the box locked with a word puzzle and got as far as the dungeons
without anyone setting off an alarm. We did have to fight a bit to
get to the prisoners, but most of them were quite eager to fight their
captors, which kept most of the drow out of our way. In addition
to a wide assortment of humans, dwarves, and others in aholding cell, there
were a few prisoners in smaller cells. One was a drow female, who
disappeared soon after following us out of the compound. I am concerned
about her, but had other things on my mind at the time. There was
also an orc-child and a human male who Darviss says seemed familiar.
We rescued a human female from the torture chamber Storm says she will
take her to a temple to get healing.
The captive of the most immediate concern to us, however, is Darious' sister,
Lilandra. When we arrived, she was in labor with a half-drow child.
I thought that Darious said it had been only about a moon from the time
they were attacked to the time we met in Scarville. That is hardly
time for an elven pregnancy to come to term. Perhaps they found some
way to speed it up. She had not been well-handled. We ran as
far as we could, Darious cradling her against his shoulder and holding
her like an infant. His face was hard, expressionless, even by the
standards of my people. When Lilandra's moans became frequent, we
stopped. Eleni sent Darious for water as I gathered wood and started
a fire. The three of us sat with her throughout her ordeal.
When the child was born, Darious asked us to leave them alone. Eleni
and I both tried to take the child and clean it; I believe she saw the
same danger I saw. When Darious used a cantrip to cleanse the child,
we both refused to withdraw. Family business or no, Darious was on
the edge. I fully expected him to kill the child outright.
Eleni kept talking to Lilandra, though she clearly needed rest. She
pressed Lilandra to name the child until the girl finally murmered "He
is Taelnakah Fire-from-darkness." Darious' shoulders relaxed slightly
at those words. "It can wait," he said then. "She needs rest."
Taelnakah started crying then, and Eleni helped Lilandra begin nursing
him before we left them alone.
After Lilandra had rested some, we got up, and with the help of Shamil's
compass, found our way to the river, to the road, and to the inn.
Storm was somewhat startled to see us come trooping in so late, but welcomed
us. I went out to the grove and danced a brief prayer of thanksgiving,
though I could barely stand by then. I don't think I have ever been
as tired as I am now.
24 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
We opened the box and divided the treasure today I got a suit of armor
blessed by Tyr. Storm says she will trade it in. Darious, Lilandra,
and Taelnakah had a room to themselves last night, and the baby still lives;
I think the danger is past.
I now have my father's Harper pin. Tomorrow I will take the message
to Chalithra, then continue on with Darious, Lilandra, and Taelnakah as
they travel to Tangled Trees. Darious seems old lately. He
tells me he is worried about the future of his family, especially his nephew.
He has reason to be. Tangled Trees is not the most wholesome place
for a half-drow child to grow. They have a hard road ahead of them.
Bright
Leaves Falling
25 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
We started travelling throgh the forest today. I led us out late
in the morning and we didn't camp until moonset I don't want to go waking
Chalithra in the middle of the day. It is unfortunate that Lilandra
and Darious fear and hate drow so much. Mietza would be a much better
place for the child he could understand himself there.
Storm traded the suit of armor for a beautiful harp. It has a few
magical properties and its case is much better suited to travel than the
one my old harp had. Storm says one of her sisters plays such a harp,
I only hope I can learn to play it well enough to do it justice.
Darious told me today that he faces the task of telling a child that his
father is dead. It took me a few moments to connect the pieces, but
when I asked, Darious confirmed that Marlestrea was one of the children
with his group. This explains the child's confusion at my presence.
In the first few months at Tangled Trees, a child survior of a drow attack
would probably have been kept away from the settlement's half-drow residents.
I am sorry, though, that his father was killed by drow. No child
should live without his parents. I want to make it right for him,
but what can I do? It would be suicide to attack Jaelre's outpost,
and they have proven they deserve violent, not merciful, justice.
If only there were more of us at Mietza.
26 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
We reached the borders of Mietza just after dusk this evening. I
had to leave my companions and go into the forest a bit before the scouts
would show themselves to me, I hope that did not erode their trust in me.
They would not let Mok'cha, the orc-child who clings to Shamil since being
freed, into the Moonhallow. Shamil decided to stay behing with him,
as did Asgar and Grunk. Eleni, Darious, Lilandra, and even Taelnakah
were blindfolded. I was ready to blindfold myself to prove safety,
but Lilandra asked only if Darious trusted that they would be safe.
Darious told her yes, though it took him a few tries to get to it.
Then he did a strange thing; he truned to me and said. Since you
have done what you have done for us lately, I forgive you, though you never
exactly asked. I wonder for what I needed to be forgiven.
I was irritated with Zeerith for blindfolding Taelnakah, and told her as
much. She fixed me with a look I know too well from scout training
and muttered "polymorph." I thought about the cow and bit my lip
to keep silent.
The blindfolds were removed in the dancing glade I'm not sure whether
I would have brought Darious into such a holy place right away, but it
is the perfect place for little Taelnakah to see his first glimpse of a
drow community. I went up into the tower tree to deliver Storm's
greetings and her letter to Chlithra. She dismissed me immediately,
which I will admit hurt a little. Chalithra has always been like
a second mother to me. I suppose she was eager to read the letter.
After returning to my companions, I mentioned that I would like to visit
my mother, and set off for the children's compound. It was now quite
dark under the trees, though the moonlight did filter down into the clearings
with all the beauty I remember. It must have been enough light for
Eleni, Darious, and Lilandra, for they didn't trip. Most of the community
had gathered around us and were following; I saw Lilandra glancing nervously
over her shoulder, and turned to my people, asking them to stop fightening
the guests. Rizzen looked straight into my eyes and told me not to
confuse who was afraid of whom. Now that I think of it, that must
have been a very brave thing for him to do; except for weapons training,
I don't think I've ever seen him address a female outright. I tilted
my head, though, conceding his point; I would not have trusted Darious
to keep our existence secret a tenday ago.
I didn't see the younger children until I was halfway to the practice clearing.
The only one to approach, of course, was Qilue, who bounced up to embrace
me with a squeal of joy. I didn't last long as an object of interest,
though, as there were three surface elves and an infant there. Qilue
stared over my shoulder and asked me in our language what happened to them
to make their skin and hair the wrong colors. I tried to explain
to her that it was the branding that gave us our skin and hair colors,
but she was too confused by her first sight of lighter elves to think logically.
I suppose she is only forty-three; she has heard of the branding, but its
implications are thankfully unreal to her as yet. Once I gave up
and told Quilue to ask Chalithra to explain it, she looked back at my face,
looked at theirs, and said in that loud child's whisper of hers, "Their
eyes are even funnier than yours, Shaklyri!" That elicited a chuckle
from Darious, and Eleni asked him what was so funny. Darious answered
her in Elvish, for which I am grateful, as Qilue has not yet learned Common,
"Apparently our eyes are stranger than Hope's." Eleni chuckled, Lilandra
smiled slightly, and I could see the tightening of fear in Qilue's neck.
"They can understand us?" she asked. "Just the male," I answered,
"though if you speak Elvish they will all understand." I guess that
must have been too much for her, because she stopped asking questions and
positioned herself on the side of me farthest from Darious as we walked
the rest of the way.
Vlandril was waiting for us at the door to the children's building.
She had food and tea prepared for us, and it was interesting to observe
the reactions of the full elves. I made certain to drink mine first,
knowing that Darious would suspect poison. Eleni smelled it, and
apparently recognized the herb, though she admitted it had never occurred
to her to make tea from it. I noticed that, despite my immediate
sipping, Darious placed his hand over Lilandra's cup until he had swallowed
his first mouthful. I wonder, in afterthought, what Vlandril thought
of that. She would not have been offended that he checked for poison,
I am certain, though that he touched his sister's portion without asking
is odd. If he is her designated taster, he should not need to do
so, for she will wait. After I was certain that my friends would
be okay for a few minutes, I excused myself to change out of my travelling
clothes.
When I returned to the classroom, Darious took one look at me and chuckled,
I'm not sure at what, but I responded that it was refreshing to be a source
of amusement rather than a target to be shot at. I probably should
have phrased that differently, for Vlandril's face went utterly expressionless,
and she said, "My daughter is not to be laughed at." I smoothed that
over as well as I could, and started Vlandril and Eleni speaking of their
lost lovers and sons. I don't think Lilandra said a word the entire
time, though she did nod and hold Taelnakah out so Vlandril could see him
better when asked. I am sure she didn't notice the tightness around
Vlandril's eyes and throat when Vlandril lifted her eyes and looked to
me. I wanted to hold my mother then; Taelnakah obviously reminded
her of me when I was young, though he is much smaller than I must have
been. Or perhaps he reminds her of her own son, born dead a tenday
before I was brought to her.
27 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
Last evening, Triel slept in the room Vlandril and I have shared, that
we might all sleep in the female's dormitory, though it has long been occupied
only by Triel. I did not think, as much as it would be good to have
the healers near, that Darious would like himself and Lilandra to be housed
on the other side of the glade. I was worried that Vlandril, who
insisted on sleeping with us, might have one of her dreams, but the rest
period passed quietly.
We woke when the community was only just beginning to stir. I spent
a little time returning my sword to Elkanter so that it can be repaired
and given to someone who needs it and giving my harp back to Iljrene, that
someone else might learn to play it. It was late afternoon, the time
when mothers rush their children to the compound that their young eyes
might not be harmed by the bright sun. As we left, Qilue followed
us out, though she seemed much more reserved than usual. I stopped,
turned and told her she should wait until sundown to come out. "I
wanted a hug good-bye," she said, "and..." Her voice trailed off, but her
eyes were focused on Taelnakah. "Ask her. In Elvish," I prompted,
and Qilue took a tentative step forward. "May I see the baby?"
She asked carefully, actually catching Lilandra's eyes. I think she
was the first person other than Darious to do so since we had entered the
Moonhallow. Lilandra smiled thinly and bent down, pulling the blanket
back from Taelnakah's face. "His name is Taelnakah," Lilandra said,
the only words I think she spoke the entire time she was in Mietza.
Qilue shaded her eyes and bent closer to look. Her eyebrows drew
together slightly. "Like his hair and his skin." Taelnakah
opened his eyes then. Qilue stepped back. "He has grass-eyes!"
she exclaimed. "Like Shaklyri's but different. His ears are
the right shape though." She lifted her eyes to meet Lilandra's.
"You have grass eyes too. You don't look even as old as Ysolde, why
would you want a male?" I stepped in between the the Qilue and Darious
as Lilandra stiffened. "Enough," I snapped, then realized the
harshness of my voice had frightened her and softened it. "I will
come again when I can, my friend. We have compaions waiting outside
the village." I patted Qilue on the shoulder, and she skipped off
into the school building.
We were blindfolded and led back to our companions' camp. I led our
group out of Mietza territory before I let us set up another camp, shortly
after moonrise.
28 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
We traveled all day, seeing no one. We crossed the road without incident.
I fear that we may not be allowed to re-enter Tangled Trees with Mok'Cha.
We hope to arrive in Tangled Trees late tomorrow.
Since we passed through Mietza, I have realized how fully my heart is drow.
I also now know that when I accept the goddess' call, it will not be because
I need to, but because Qilue, Taelnakah, and the other children of my race
need me to. I have no idea why the Maiden wants me so much, but She
does.
Stopping in Mietza also reminded me how deep the fears and hatreds run
between drow and surface elves. The knowledge of that pain sits in
my heart, a fiery emptiness I feel helpless to remedy. I abhor that
my darker kin could do what they did to Lilandra; I cannot think of it
without the bile rising in my throat. For that alone, they deserve death.
How
long must brother fight brother fight sister?
29 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
No incidents today. We reached Tangled trees late. The moon
should be near full, but my friends needed to settle in. We were
allowed to bring Mok'cha in under the same conditions as we brought Grunk
and Asgar in under before. We are in the guest quarters again, though
tomorrow Darious is going to look for more permanent lodgings for himself,
Lilandra, and Taelnakah.
30 Eleasis,
Year of Wild Magic
I have never felt more peace and purpose. Tonight, I was finally able to
set my stubbornness aside and answer the call of Eilistraee. I asked
the council today whether there was anywhere in the area I could hunt and
dance tonight. They agreed, provided I hunt with my clothes on, which
is no problem. I am not going on the Hight Hunt alone. They
were able to find a small clearing on the edge of the settlement where
I could even dance properly without too much risk of offending anyone.
I killed and ate a small squirrel, then began to dance. I do not
know how long I danced, but I felt as though I was flying.
In the last moments of dancing, I felt my resistance melt away in the light
of the full moon. I sang to Her words and phrases that had been bouncing
disconnected on the edges of my mind came together into wholeness the
moonbeams became tangible, like cool fire, washing or burning away the
last of my defenses. I was left totally open. I know I could
not have reacted to anything outside the moonlight. If someone had
decided to go half-drow hunting, I would have been a target almost too
easy to bother with. I had to trust the Dark Maiden, found I could,
then She gave me back to myself.
I slumped into my own body, then took it with me to the ground until I
felt like I could walk. I put my clothes back on, lifted my sword,
and came back here. I am exhausted, completely empty of everything
but Eilistraee's presence. I think the only reason I can write these
words is that this is a part of my daysong. It would be a poor priestess
who abandoned her daysong on the very eve she answered her call.
If, however, I am to be of any use to Her, I must rest now.
Answering
To:
Taelnakah Brightleaf
Tangled Trees, Cormanthor
From: Shaklyri Hope Mietza
Tangled Trees, Cormanthor
1 Eleint, Year of Wild
Magic
Sweet child,
First, I will tell you that you are beautiful, for you may hear otherwise.
Do what you can not to listen, for those who say such things say them out
of fear and arrogance. I know they are wrong, and you must too, if
you are to be whole. Also, do not let them tell you you are less
because your conception did not come of love. And do not tell yourself
these things either. When I was a child, I saw my pupiled eyes as
cause for shame and felt emptiness that I did not know my parents.
I felt ugly; my ears were truncated, my body stocky and tall for a time,
I felt unlovable, despite the love that was given me. I pray every
day that you do not make the same mistake.
I do not know how much you have been told about me, or whether I have been
able to come and visit you, as I plan to, so I will say it here.
I am the child of a a Menzoberranzyr noble and a human harper, who was
disguised as a drow when I was conceived. When he heard of my birth,
he kidnapped me from my mother and took me to the surface, that I might
become neither a sacrifice nor a tool for her. Although I am occasionally
curious about her name or standing, I do not want to meet my mother.
I have since learned to know my father, and owe her for what he had to
endure at her hands. If you ever feel the need to meet your father,
stop and think of your mother. Remember the pain in her voice when
she tells you of your birth, or think of the pain that prevents her from
telling it. Can you face the one who did that to her and call him
father? If the answer is no, then you should not seek him, as I have
no intention of seeking my birth-mother.
You are fortunate, though fatherless, for you do know one of your parents,
and she is strong. It may seem at times that she would have preferred
you had never been born, but those times come to every parent. She
named you, named you with a name resonating with hope, expectation, and
affection, little fire-from-darkness. You are the passion she carries
with her out of suffering. Remember that, for every drow I know who
has learned to love has done so with either the understanding of her or
his own suffering, or an appreciation for the suffering from which they
have been spared. It is like the name given me by my foster mother
the bridge for I was her bridge out of the darkness as you and your
uncle were your mother's, and, as I suspect, you and your mother were for
your uncle. Never forget that your mother chose to claim you, when
claiming you meant risking the rejection even of her own brother.
She loves you that much. Care for her, for she is wounded deeply.
Realize that in knowing a loving mother you have been given a gift that
few half-drow, indeed, few full drow, know.
Care also for your Uncle Darious. I suspect I will never understand
the burdens placed on him, though since your birth he has come near to
sharing his thoughts with me once or twice. He has passed through
his own darkness. The trouble with the darkness that eats the soul
and causes hate to grow is that it doesn't always die when overcome.
My foster mother still struggles with hers, your uncle may struggle with
his for a long time to come. Know, however, that I have seen a peace
of purpose descend on Darious since your mother held you and named you.
In that moment he loved you for her sake, and he is already beginning to
love you on his own, though you are but a few days old. You are his
nephew, and he will not forget that. One other blessing I envy you
for is your sun-elven family. I do not understand its structure,
but the strength of blood ties common to most elven societies is one thing
my village has had to lose to gain a life of peace on the surface.
Speaking of my home, though to do so in a letter to Tangled Trees is a
great risk, and I pray that I have not done ill to my people by exposing
them thus, should this letter fall into the wrong hands, I should explain
to you why my people all stared at you when your mother carried you through
our village on the fourth day of your life, for I am not certain that she
truly understands. My home is a place of hope, a refuge for drow
seeking to live in peace with their neighbors under the stars. We
follow a goddess of redemption, who teaches us to help others, that we
might one day be seen as acceptable in the eyes of our lighter kindred.
It is not an easy road, especially with the large numbers of Vhaeraun and
Lloth worshippers who terrorize both human and elven settlements.
We help those we can, we go on the Run, but we are not fools. None
of my people dared dream that they will live to see the day when it will
be safe to bring healthy surface elves into the heart of our village.
I took a great risk by bringing your uncle in with us. Most of them
have not dared to dream that they would ever see a half-drow elf cradled
int he arms of his sun-elf mother. You are both the greatest hope
and the greatest fear they had never imagined, yet here you were.
They could see you, hear your cries. They knew you as one of their
people, yet they also recognized you as one who could be used against them.
Had you been carried in the arms of a drow, or had your mother stayed with
you there, great would their rejoicing have been, for you would have been
a constant reminder of the possible, but you did not stay. You were
carried out again to grow up in the one place we fear the most, possibly
to learn to hate your darker kin, or at least your darker self.
Do not hate the brand that you wear. Many will tell you it is the
mark of shame for your sins, but do not believe them. That is how
it started, but you wore it when you came into the world, as did I, and
we both took our first breaths with the same possibilities, the same potential
for good or evil as any other elf or human ever born on this world.
It is a reminder of suffering, of the consequences of choice, of the supremacy
of the gods, certainly. It tells us that those who feel they are
invincible will fall as a direct result of their own arrogance. It
reminds us that mercy is real, and that no hope is wasted, for that our
ancestors were exiled and marked instead of receiving a just death for
treason is itself a sign of hope, and a symbol of the love Corellon Latharian
still harbors for us, his wayward children.
I do not know whether you will have opportunity to hear Eilistraee's story
much in tangled trees. Your uncle knows it, at least in part, and
I will include the story in verse with this letter. Remember that
Corellon Latherian was willing to spare his daughter the branding and the
exile that was the consequence of her participation, however inadvertant,
in the rebellion led by her mother. That she chose to accept the
brand for our sakes is clear proof, to me at least, that the brand itself
is not evil, no matter how many who wear it are. After all, not all
lighter elves are good.
I have said enough for now. I will try to write more when I can,
and visit as opportunity allows. I know too well how it feels to
know only one side of yourself and my other half was not feared by my
people. I will not abandon you to that pain, if I can prevent it.
Besides, I do not think I will ever have children of my own I will not
subject them to what I have lived through as half-human. I may as
well help my friends with theirs, though they outlive me. Mine, then,
is my foster-mother's doom.
Grow well and whole,
Shaklyri Hope Mietza
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