Shaklyri's Journal
Eleint - 1372 DR
1 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Long ago, before the race of men spread over the land, when the gods were
young and the elves were younger, when the great ancient forests had yet
to be planted, but after the Godswar, the Elves spread throughout the Realms
and prospered. They were a proud people who loved beauty and song,
strove for perfection in all things. They built great cities and
wrote music which sang praises to the gods and painted all the joy of the
lands in which they lived. They studied magics and crafted items
of power and beauty. They lived together in peace, for they were
kindred and had not yet learned to hate.
It is easy, watching the elves of today, to believe that the arrogance
of that age's elven race contributed to the tragedy that followed, for
today's elves are as certain of their own superiority, their own destiny
and incorruptability, as the elves of long ago must have been. If you do
not understand the potential for evil that is within yourself, it will
overcome you. I think this must have been why they did not see the
signs when Araushnee began to grant exceptional powers to those who followed
her alone. By the time the elves knew of the danger, the minds and
hearts of our ancestors had been so thouroughly corrupted that when Correllon
Latherian cast his treacherous lover, Araushnee, into the darkness, they
followed her. She became Lolth, the Spider-Queen, who taught that
the quest for power supercedes compassion, love, and peace, and her followers
obeyed and feared her. We became drow, the dark elven race.
That is when we became dark of skin, when our eyes began to flash with
a pale light, when the light of day became difficult for us to endure.
I think perhaps the harsh sun illuminates too well the chains our ancestors
bound around the hearts and minds of their children when they chose Lolth
and the quest for power over balance and compassion. Those chains
are passed on, mother to daughter, daughter to granddaughter, as each generation
binds its successors into the unending competition, striving for ownership
of a power that will never be theirs. I pity these, my people still
trapped in the web of the Spider-Queen's lies; I pity especially the children
who do not know the compassion I have known, who have never seen the love
even I, who am different, have seen shining in the eyes of my people here
above. It makes the hatred in the eyes of the others bearable.
Nothing makes their fear bearable.
It is my hope that I can do something to ensure that Taelnakah sees such
love, but for now, I must pray that Lilandra and Darious continue to love
him as they do now. Lilandra's fear of drow is still too deep and
too fresh, and Darious does not understand how important it is for her
to be with other females, females who know something of caring for infants.
Taelnakah will grow, as I did, conscious of his difference, ashamed of
half his ancestry, but, unlike me, his self- doubt will be constantly reinforced
by those who should love and encourage him. He will need to know
things about the drow that Darious and Lilandra do not know, he will need
to understand things about growing up neither one race nor the other that
Darious and Lilandra cannot know. I have written him a letter, that
some of that information may be availible when he is older, for who knows
if I will be here a century from now. The most important things,
though, cannot be written in a letter. Taelnakah must know that all
of himself is valued by somebody, and I doubt that there are many in tangled
trees who are prepared to embrace any half-drow that fully.
I will visit when I may.
We are preparing to leave for feather Falls. With us will travel
a group bound for the Blackfeather Bridge.
2 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
We left Tangled Trees this morning. Early in the afternoon, we happened
upon some Ettins attacking a halfling. The huge, silver wolf standing
over the halfling had obviously been guarding him, but was severely wounded.
We did kill the ettins, but not in time to save the halfling. He
had been a messenger, and Eleni told the wolf that we would deliver his
message to a gnome who waited for it at blackfeather bridge. She
healed the huge canine and we lashed the halfling's corpse to his back,
that he could be properly buried among his clan.
3 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Tonight we rested in a small town named Hap. It is cloudy. I cannot
see the moon.
4 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Got to blackfeather bridge. We delivered the scroll to the specified
gnome. Unfortunately, it was a magical scroll and he is aparently
a cyricist. He laughed at us, read the scroll, and fire lept from
it to burn the mad god's symbol into the bridge. Sparks flew from
the disappearing parchment to our left shoulders, leaving tattoos of the
symbol of Cyric on our skin. Darviss says he has seen such tattoos
on the most devoted of Cyric's followers. I could tell by the cold,
sharp edge in his voice that he is at least as displeased at my bearing
this sign as I am.
I wonder how this could have happened, where did my paranoia go?
What possessed me to deliver a scroll of unknown origin to an unknown party
without even reading it?
5 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
We arrived late in Feather Falls. I have disguised Eleni as a Sun
Elf, as she does not with to be identified as herself. We heard a
rumor about some treasure in the falls, and for some reson we decided to
investigate. We must have been too tired to think straight.
Now Eleni is without her gear, and the local guard suspect us of mischief.
6 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Eleni has revealed herself to one member of the guard; she had to in order
to explain her odd behavior and reclaim her pack. We have been accused
of stealing some crockery, and spent the morning trying to solve the theft,
that we might clear our name and that the guards might have time to accompany
us to the site which we suspect was occupied by red wizards.
Only Grunk and Asgar could turn an attempt to quietly gather evidence into
a horse- theiving, spell-slinging battle with one of the town's most respected
farmers and his son. The farmer's son apparently entertains women
other than the one who has legal claim on him. I do not pretend to
understand this marriage thing, but I know what my response would be if
I found a male whose sole attentions I expected to hold in bed with another.
7 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Today we gave up on finding the thief and asked the guardsman Eleni befriended
to provide us with a guide to the site of the red wizards' enclave which
they found outside of town. We have found nothing, and the child
assigned to guide us is next to useless.
The young man who has been guiding us expressed some concern about our
overnighting. Apparently he had agreed to meet with a young woman
this evening. He is worried that she will be offended when duty keeps
him away from her. I hope she is not. He is young, but he seems
to feel proper respect for her, and I would much rather he gain her attentions
than that deceitful farmer's son.
8 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Today we dropped our guide at Feather Falls and continued to Chandlerscross.
The trip was fairly uneventful. We have found an acceptable inn in
which to stay, and are investigating rumors of a woman fitting Kizzif's
description and dissapearing men.
9 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Last night, we tracked some missing men into the woods north of town, and
discovered a wagon of slavers. Apparently, Kizzif has been luring
young men out of Chandlerscross and selling them as slaves.
Shamil has been following Grunk's movements around the town. She
says she thinks he is trying to become a wizard or some such. I laughed.
A Half-orc wizard? A magic-weilding Grunk? But I must agree
the evidence she has gathered points in that direction.
10 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
There is nothing I dread so much as the fear and distrust in the eyes of
others when they see me. I did not have to take the message Hoot
brought to the authorities, I did not have to tell them where the young
men were going, what was happening to them, or when more complete evidence
could be expected. I chose to do those things, and all it got me
was a glance as if I were the slimiest thing to crawl out from under a
rotting log, and statements which generally suggested that I was not credible.
It is a good thing I was relating the information for the well-being of
others, for I think it would be difficult for me to go out of my way for
the good of that closed- minded underling.
When the others come. I think I will let them take the evidence to
the authorities. If I am to do my race any credit, I should not test
my temper that way.
Drow
Child
11 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Eleni has had a terrible shock today — several shocks, actually.
The red wizard we have been hunting, one Kizzif, aparently enchanted only
Eleni, not the entire town, and caused her to kill her own child and abandon
her own husband while hallucinating that the entire town was trying to
murder them all. The other Thayans have declared Kizzif doomed to
death — not because of what she did, but because she didn't clear it with
the community leaders. I can believe they are evil; that sort of
pragmatism reminds me of the stories of drow in the underdark I heard while
I was growing up.
Eleni's spirit is broken. She and Vlandril now also have that irrational
guilt in common. I do not want to see Eleni's life become as shadowed
as the that of my foster mother, but am powerless to help. Goddess, show
me what to do, for she has been like a mother to me, and I know nothing
about healing a soul.
12 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Shamil, Asgar, and I returned to Feather Falls with Eleni today.
We went first to the burned cottage, where we found an arrow with a note
tied to it. The note gave directions to Airen's grave, slightly to
the north of of the ruined outpost.
As I write this, Eleni kneels, weeping, by a stone etched with her and
Einleiss' symbols. She has all but covered the stone with wildflowers
and fragrant herbs picked in the woods on the way from the burned cottage.
She will not speak to us now.
13 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Shortly after I wrote last evening, Eleni used one of her items to set
up a small pavilion and feast for us. I played and sang for her —
I avoided "Tiny Child" but did sing most of the rest of my repertoire.
Even Shamil did not complain that my music was too depressing. Tonight
we are at the inn in town.
I have started carving a new flute for myself. I have missed playing
the haunting melodies properly, and last night both voice and fingers were
raw from singing and harping.
Airen
14 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
It is difficult to watch Eleni in so much pain and be able to do so little
for her. To those who do not know her well or do not know how to
read the signs, she seems normal, but there is a reluctance to her gait,
a deadness in her eyes that I find dangerous. We are to join Grunk
back to Chandlerscross in five days; I hope he is ready to ravel when we
get there, for I know Eleni needs purpose to heal, and sitting aroung waiting
is the worst thing she could do. I have come to love her as an aunt
or surrogate mother in this short time, and all I can do for her now is
sing. So I sing — I sing and play and hope my affection and the harp's
magic will stave off such madness as my foster mother suffers. I
must play more; my callouses are gone.
15 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
I write my daysong to the counterpoint of Eleni's soft sobs. There
are times when I am glad to be half-human, for my dreams are vivid and
shadow-filled enough. Tonight, I do not want my dreams, for fear
they will reflect Eleni's grief or recall those moments of total fear when
I would wake to find my mother trapped in the memory of killing her lover.
More than once, while sitting and listening in taverns along my journeys,
I have heard the more imaginative young humans wonder aloud to themselves
about the legendary reverie of the mysterious Elves. They do not
understand. Human dreams deal with the what might be or what is as
often as what was. In reverie, every memory is relived; You cannot
control it, you cannot dismiss it, and you cannot change it. Elves
in reverie are powerless to the memory. A mind in reverie is also
closer to waking than one dreaming, which makes it more difficult to be
certain it is memory and not waking life, at least until some stimulus
from the waking world affects them.
When I was young, I could return to sleep after every nightmare, because
the monsters were not real. For Vlandril and now Eleni, the monsters
are not only real, they are themselves. I know from experience that
if Eleni screams even once, I will not sleep tonight.
I look to the Maiden for comfort, that I may comfort my friend, but my
faith wavers. The new moon, it's faint light made watery by the cool
air of approaching autumn is as pale a shadow of the full moon under which
I danced at Tangled Trees as the Eleni of these past few days is of the
strong she-elf who held off Darious until Taelnakah was named. I
will sing my prayers tonight, as usual, but for the first time in my memory,
I wonder if they will be heard.
Shadows
of Doubt
16 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
I made almost no progress on my flute today. Again.
I have been noticing a peculiar type of poetry circulating among the villagers,
particularly the men. I think I have unravelled the meter of it:
two lines of nine syllables with three stresses followed by two five-syllable
lines with two stresses and finished with a third nine-syllable line.
These poems tend not to deal with matters of gravity, and indeed they often
elicit explosions of raucus laughter from the listeners. Shamil keeps
saying my songs are too depressing, I think I should try writing a few
of these lighthearted verses. It would, at least be an opportunity
for growth.
A
druid with mud on her boot
17 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Today, Asgar received a message from someone he knew in some war he fought
in. The man asked Asgar for his help, and that he needs help might
have been enough for me, but the man's name is Hykos, and he is a priest
of Tyr. I believe it is the same Hykos who comforted and taught Darviss
during his childhood. If so, I owe him on behalf of my father.
Who knows what the Zhentarim would have made of Darviss if Hykos had not
helped him to understand goodness in his youth?
We have sent Hoot to ask Grunk to meet us here, as that will save us a
day of backtracking.
I have finished the flute I have been working on. I am also trying
to translate some of the teaching songs we sang when I was young.
I think perhaps I will teach them to Lilandra next time I am in tangled
trees. They should give Taelnakah a window into his drow half even
as a young child, while still being useful for instruction. Translating
them into Elvish will also help him learn the darker tongue, should he
ever choose to compare the copies.
Colors
18 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Grunk arrived from Chandlerscross around mid-day today. We are now
on the road to Suzail in Cormyr. Apparently, Eleni has befriended
the large wolf who had traveled with the halfling whose scroll we delivered
to the cyricist at Blackfeather Bridge. The wolf, he says his name
is silverback, claims the Halfling had no knowledge of the contents of
the scroll.
We encountered a family between Feather Falls and Blackfeather Bridge.
They were apparently travelling to Blackfeather Bridge for the man's father's
funeral when their cart wheel broke. While Eleni mended it, the youngest
child approached me and asked what had happened to my skin. I'm not
very good at estimating human age, but if she were an elf, she'd be around
thirty years old. I told her my ancestors had made a very bad choice,
and her eyes grew large and round as only fully human eyes can. "You
mean they got beaten so hard that you're bruised?" she asked. It
is funny now, but I nearly cried when she said that. It is an apt
metaphor, but it hides a vital truth. Humans do not expect the daughter
to carry the mother's sins. They don't even expect to bear the consequences
themselves for very long. Their honor is not so familial or racial,
it is personal. I think of the way Marlestrea, approximately equal
to this girl in maturity, reacted to me back at Tangled Trees. I
think of his revulsion, and his certainty tha because I wore the brand
I must be evil, and I wonder: When we are able to dwell openly in peace
with the brighter peoples, how much will be due to the ascendence of human
values and their emphasis on self- determination?
19 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Very little has happened today. We continued travelling towards Cormyr.
Grunk and Asgar decided beforewe left feather falls that we would move
faster if we didn't have to walk. I mentioned my utter inability
to ride any beast, so they bought a cart and a couple of horses for us.
I think riding, even inexpertly, would have to be better than this bouncing
and bruising. I hurt in places I didn't know I had, and as one who
dances and uses a sword, I didn't know such places still existed.
I envy Eleni, who can ride her wolf, and Shamil, who has her riding-dog,
of course.
20 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
I have been re-reading my journal entries from a few months ago in an effort
to recall as much as possible about this Hykos we go now to help.
I am realizing that, though Darviss spoke much of him, I actually have
very few notes about the man himself. I have decided to record more
of what I do remember before it, too, slips away, and I hope to have some
time to learn more from Darviss befroe we reach Suzail.
Darviss first mentioned Hykos to me as we discussed matters of faith outside
scarville. Hykos was a childhood friend of his, son of two clerics
of Tyr who seemed born to follow his parents' path. Apparently he
supported my father (among others) and helped him survive whatever it is
he won't tell me about his childhood. Darviss told me that Hykos
would say that in giving yourself up to a deity, it is not important that
you first be the perfect tool, but that you be willing to allow your god
to form you into whatever he needs you to be; alone, you will never reach
the state of perfection necessary to fulfill the deity's requirements,
but trusting in his judgement, your very faults will become the most necessary
elements in the divine plan. This truth did help me come to accept
the calling of Eilistraee for my life.
21 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Today we found a corpse lying on the road, but were unable to give it a
proper burial as the wyvern returned for it. I had heard stories
of such creatures, but had never seen one before. I am very glad
I took cover under the wagon during the initial attack, as it spared me
the bruising Shamil acquired falling out of the wagon as the horses panicked.
I managed to burst the poison sack with my very first arrow before it had
done too much damage. Perhaps the Goddess smiles on me after all.
Notes:
I need to find another way to counteract poison. I used my potion
of neutralize poison to heal Grunk, and I haven't got another.
I
knew not such creatures were real
22 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
We are spending the evening at Highmoon today. It is a sizable town
filled with elves, half-elves, and humand. Kin everywhere, and not
a friendly face to be found. I suppose that is to be expected, given
house Jaelre's recent activities in this area. They do appreciate
a good, sad ballad once they realize I am not going to kill them on the
spot, though. We got in early enough to reprovision: It is several
days' travel to Suzail, and I would rather not have to stop longer than
necessary in strange places. My education briefly touched on the
political situations of the Dalelands, but included nothing of Cormyr beyond
a name on a map.
23 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
We left Highmoon later in the morning than I had hoped. Eleni and
Grunk went to a local apothecary to see about a pregnancy test for Eleni.
This time, she apparently got a little more information on what would happen
if there were an orcish child, but we couldn't tell whether the solution
was blue or purple.
Of course, just about the first thing that happened after we got out of
Highmoon was that we were nearly anihilated by about ten drow. By
the time we all came around from the poison, Shamil had disposed of the
bodies, so we didn't find out what their affiliation was. The problem
with poison is that it makes me sleep, but doesn't allow rest.
24 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Nothing of interest happened today. We are at the foot of the Thunder
Peaks, and should head up through the gap into Cormyr tomorrow. I
have never climbed a mountain before.
Eleni
25 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Today we crossed into Cormyr. Just as we began to head back into
flat land, we came across a tower decorated with a purple dragon.
Darviss got my attention via one of those annoying brain-itching sensations
and informed me that we needed to stop there. Apparently, the peace-keeping
force of Cormyr is known as the Purple Dragons and require that all weapons
be peace-bound while int he realm. Darviss went on and on about how
horrible this was, which causes me to think its exactly what he needs,
though I must admit, I'm a little concerned about travelling through unfamiliar
countryside without the freedom to strike first if my life seems threatened.
I hope these Purple Dragons are good at their jobs.
I am even more concerned about Eleni, however. I had hoped that the
purpose of a mission helping others would lighten the burden of her insanity,
but instead she seems to be getting worse. I am trying to stay with
her as much as possible, and I play for her or dance and sing with her
when I can, it calms her somewhat, especially children's songs. All
my efforts, though, are only stalling the inevitable. If we cannot
find another way for Eleni to heal, she sill soon descend completely into
madness.
Tonight we camp in a forest.
26 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Last evening, we were apparently visited by pixies. Asgar's tattoos
are different, saying something slightly more complimentary than before.
As we passed through the forest, we heard voices. They started singing
along with Eleni, who we had to tie up and carry in the cart. She kept
trying to get out to the children, even though the voices frightened us.
As dusk set in, we ran across the source of one of the voices: a small,
pale, girl-child who wept and called out to us for help. I was trying
to decide what seemed wrong about her and prevent Eleni from climbing out
of the cart to get to her when Grunk threw a stone and it went right through
her. While this almost brought Eleni to her senses, it brought a
violent response from the restless spirit and its companions. We
raced to the edge of the forest. As we looked back, we could see
scores of translucent figures, children all, elven, half-elven, and human.
We were very glad to get out of sight of the trees and find a defensible
campsite.
27 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
It is interesting watching an elf crochet while riding a wolf. I
am worried what will happen if Eleni turns out not to be pregnant, or if
the fetus aborts; Eleni seems to be holding herself alive by that one small
thread of a second chance. I will try singing to her of second chances
tonight, that she might have another safety net in her mental defenses,
should this one fail.
28 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
We reached Suzail just after nightfall. The gates are closed until
morning, but there is an inn by the gate. We are there tonight.
Riding peacebound has been good for Darviss. I have finally convinced
him to tell me why he feels as he does about his family. Both of
his parents apparently spent the greater part of their time trying to destroy
each other and him physically and emotionally. Yelling and some hitting
seem to happen in many families of all races, but if, as Darviss says,
the goal was to convince him that he was worthless, I can understand his
feelings. I can also understand partof how he was able to withstand
the treatment he endured in the underdark. A menzoberranzyr might
spend time and energy convincing a male to obey or that he was dispensible,
but worthlessness would generally be met with immediate death or expulsion.
It must have been more bearable than his childhood.
The moon will be full sometime while the sun shines tomorrow, and the night
is clear.
Evening
Round
29 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
Hykos is the high priest at the temple of Tyr in Suzail. He said
he would like to speak of and with Darviss at another time, but was to
distressed, as Is proper for a loving father who fears for his child's
life.
Mikhail, as the boy is named, was kidnapped by someone who knows the exact
extent of Hykos' wealth. The child's tutor was found dead in an alley
and a message was delivered shortly thereafter, demanding a sizable sum
in exchange for the child's life. Hykos seems concerned that he cannot
promise us a personal reward for recovering his son; he needn't worry.
Asgar and, to a lesser degree, Grunk, maintain ties of personal loyalty
to him from the wars that I am learning swept Cormyr a few years ago, I
owe him for his kindness to my father many years back and would probably
help anyway, as I feel all children should be with those who love them,
and Eleni is so caught up in grief concerning her own son, that it would
be impossible to prevent her from rescuing a child in danger. That
leaves only Shamil and Mok'cha. Shamil is generally happy to help
those who are actually in need, and Mok'cha must stay here anyway, as a
full orc would attract too much attention to a party travelling incognito.
A decoy has been sent, to try to discourage those who, hearing the rumors
of kidnapping, would steal the ransom. We are going with the ransom,
packed in a coffin, in the guise of mourners returning a body home for
burial. Eleni is playing the grieving, half-mad widow, I am her half-elven
daughter (Darviss' disguise kit is proving quite useful), and Grunk and
Asgar are our bodyguards, close friends of the deceased. You will
note we are not trying to convince anyone that they are trusted friends
of the elven widow; more believable is that she retains them out of honor
for the deceased. Shamil rides in a box with arrow slits in it, to
guard our flank and the ransom money. We have also picked up a four-legged
companion, Dog, the well-trained pet of young Mikhail, who is to help us
positively identify the boy. Silverback will meet us outside the
city, and follow along out of sight, as best he can.
So much for a good night's sleep. We were attacked by a group calling
themselves "The Red Alliance." Their representative had tried to
convince us to hire them as a security escort back in Suzail, and had apparently
decided that, since we didn't want the help, we should be an easy target
for robbery. I don't think they are associated with red wizards,
as at least one of them had dyed her hair to match her sisters' flaming
locks.
While we were repelling their attack, my swordblade looked black, as if
darkened for a stealth mission at night. Darviss says this has something
to do with the sheath. I don't know that it's a good thing for a
half-drow to randomly draw a black sword.
30 Eleint,
Year of Wild Magic
There is little time to write, for I must remain alert. We have reached
the Struggling Squid and have already repelled two attempts to steal the
ransom. It nears midnight and we expect our contact any minute.
What we are doing tonight does not feel right. It rankles, paying
off those who would harm a child.
We lost Grunk today in a battle with a troll. He was dead when he
hit the ground, Eleni and I could do nothing. We covered him over
best we could, but could not stop to bury him properly. At least
the moon is bright.
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