The Dacino's Duty

[Hoihe]

((THanks to Azmo for greenifying the leathers, and the moustache

Thanks to whoever drew the picture.

Just imagine the rapier was an elven longsword, and you got Hoihe in his newest armour! (which is elven!)

[Hoihe]

Hoihe glances at his journal, and the heavily warded and locked tome next to it. He sighs, and opens his own journal, leaving the other for later. At first, he writes a few lines in his usual journal style, then.. after failing to get anything together, he just begins a rambling wall of text, although segmented.

"By the Seldarine...

I could write a lot even about the usage of the expression. At the first, using it had an odd feeling to it, a bit of an alien feeling. But now? As I use it more and more, the more it becomes second nature instead of merely exclaiming "by the gods!". Exclaiming Sehanine's name was easy, on the other hand, since I found faith in her. But an entire pantheon? It still requires getting used to, and yet, I claim to be an expert when it comes to adapting and I still struggle. Eventually, I hopefully won't.

But this entry is not to be just ramblings on my expressions, no, not at all. I am going to finally make an entry that was long delayed. I've much to record. I am not going to write a date, for it would imply to the reader that the events have happened in but a single day. I will, however, write an anchor point. The date when I write this entry. It is the 14th of Marpenoth, in the year of 1349.

What is the greatest development since my last entry? I have willingly given up knowledge, but did not destroy it. I have locked away what I learned and knew, everything, in a journal without an author or title and donated it to Candlekeep as a random book I found somewhere. It is a secret, and it shall remain such. And now, it no longer haunts my dreams. Some knowledge should not be chased by those who aren't sure of their own safety, of their own ability to restrain themselves. I fall within these people, for I am unsure when the Darkness comes to disrupt my mind, and when that happens... will it force me to do terrible acts? Without the art of the blood flowing through me, without the taint I induced upon me, I will be at least a degree less of a danger for others. If I lose control, at least I won't bring undue suffering upon someone by awakening the blood in their veins or other horrid deaths. But, I pray to Sehanine that it won't happen. Not for my own safety, but for others'.

The ritual was a success, but it was more thorough than I have anticipated. I have made it to remove all the taints that my own blood magic brought upon my soul's vessel, and the knowledge that taints my consciousness. And since I have used the Art's primal ways to enhance my draconic heritage, and my own health.. it was part of what the spell considered taint. I now feel weaker, yet stronger at the same time. Things that before barely winded me, now put me at the edge of collapsing. One day, I even collapsed after I barely dragged myself away from an almost fatal encounter. It does seem that the night skies smile upon me, for I've made it away. Maybe it was a good decision to do this? Maybe my fortune will pick up at last? Or is this just attempts by a mortal to reaffirm his beliefs. I do not know. What I know, however, is that I am free of at least one worry now. And that relives me.

I still am an expert when it comes to haemology, and have conducted a breakthrough recently as well when it comes to the field. I have managed to turn the tainted blood of an orcess, one that was corrupted with undeath into a potion of divine propotions. An elixir of health.. a potion of regeneration! My hands.. They feel.. new? It feels weird to write with such soft fingers. The callousing at the fingertips is gone, allowing the thin body of the quill to sink into my flesh. It is odd. Yet, they feel so good. And if but the vapor of the potion can cause such regeneration of years of heavy duty, of removal of all the fractures I have accumulated, of the nerve damage that acids I spilled caused.. what can the potion when drank bring? A hundred times this power. And likely it will not be blocked by the usual wards that stop healing, it turns undeath taint, turns it back to normal. And it comes from within, not from the divine channels. When cursing someone to have an eternal wound, people usually try to cut the divine off from influencing it. But what... I ask.. What if it comes from within? A loophole, I say! Thedran Rock will be the test for this theory.

Unfortunately, while my knowledge in alchemy remained astute, my knowledge of arcane suffered. It seems I relied far too much on the art of manipulating blood, even if I still remember the spell theories, I cannot apply them properly. They'll return swiftly though. As they already did. It is a curious ritual and for that, it is worth refinement. Maybe I will need to conduct a modified version on myself once more? Once I have finally passed these mountains of madness, and finally stopped the cult. For now. They will hunt me ever after, but not if they know I no longer know. And it will be good for me as well. I doubt such knowledge, knowledge I will likely learn as I face it for real stakes, be healthy for my mind. Blissful are the ignorant, for oblivion is a way to heal what is considered permanent scarring to the mind. Hopefully once Luthien aids me, these terrible memories won't come out again as I will practice the art of recalling memories oh so vividly. It makes me shudder, that I could relive such moments. Even the things I have seen so far make me shudder. I fear for what is to come. And to consider that my spirit is protected by my draconic influence and training, once I lose it.. would it result in an exposure to damage? By the Seldarine.. such worry me. But I believe, even if naivly, in the victory of the True. And I shall not falter, for it is my Duty. And nor shall I die either, for it's my duty not to die. Sehanine and Corellon, let me protect your daughter and accomplish my duty to your other one.

And to whom do I owe the duty? Soora. Sometimes I wonder whether I should be more open, more straightforward. Perhaps, maybe a little. But I will never declare the blessed word of Hanali unless the situation is perfect. I want such word, when its first utterance is relived in a Reverie, to be truly powerful and not wasted as hot air. I am to practice patience, and approach it through the traditions of old, yet still deviate from them in the name of diversity. I shouldn't think so much on it, though.. let it flow naturally. Hanali, please, give me wisdom. I promised her not to die, and I intend to keep it.

I do think she is maybe proud of me, or it's just my own illusion. Either way, I seem to have finally improved when it comes to the Art of Shadows, and mastered the basics when it comes to intelligent warfare.. again. By Labelas, it's been a decade almost since I've practiced such skills. Looking back, the decade was so hollow compared to the few years I spent on the coast. It could be defined in almost a single short story, while what has happened there is worthy of a bunch novellized biographies. I constantly complain of this madness that plagues the coast, but could I drag myself away from it? One day, for the sake of my own sanity. But not today, and not in this decade either I think. Unless something big happens. However, the thrill of so much happening, of so many events. Of so many strange people.. It can hardly be replaced. Even for a human, although one who wishes to adapt to the elven ways, and has studied the draconic way thorougly as well, the rate of things happening there is .. maddening. I wonder how it is in a true elf's perspective?
Surely it must be as if in a completely different world. So much happening, in such a little time. Liches, gods, dragons, ressurection of gods, wars on wars, ancient horrors and terrors. I'm surprised I can even keep up.

I've had the luxury of listing all the things that want me dead. It's astounding. Sometimes it makes me feel like that us, adventurers, are enemies of many more people than even the most influential kings. It both feels me with dread and excitement and pride.

Also! I should mention I began working on a "book", that will be a journal dedicated to my research on the Elder Darkness. I will probably never read it after I've finished it. I will want no reminder.. But for the future generations, people who will walk the path that I walk today.. it will be invaluable.

I should probably stop rambling, for I will be repeating myself, but that was needed. It was much, much needed. I should have probably written a poem about it, but this felt more natural. I Just wonder what the reader of my journal will think when he finds this entry. Vastly different from my usually organized and neat arrangement and progression of events, taken over by chaotic ramblings of someone who's in need of some letting go. "

[Hoihe]

"By the seldarine... My grammar sure suffers when I ramble. It's embarrassing..I'll need to rewrite the previous entry and make it sensible."

[Hoihe]

"So much to do, so much to defy..

If only the Seldarine would answer my prayers and guide me transmontane at this mountain of nigh-impossible obstacles."

[Hoihe]

"Well.. I was right. The tip of my fingers begin to harden once more from all the scribbling. And fighting. My palm retained its freshness though, but my fingers adapt. For the better or worse.


The whole Yaara Nevae Palarae Onna case has been quiet lately. Too quiet. I wonder what the cultists and that damn abomination is planning. "

[Hoihe]

"My skills at stealth and staying unnoticed are getting better.

I've managed to get the ogre chieftain before he could perform the spell to summon a horned demon. Managed to leave the area without having to confront any other ogres. I'll not lie and say I didn't gain anything from that battle. Managed to take some of their treasures. It was worth about two thousand coins total. Most of which I've used to prank a dwarf. Well, one's got to please Erevan Ilestre! "

[Hoihe]

While resting against q crumbling wall of former elven glory in the High Moors, Hoihe takes some time to record some short thoughts.((writing from phone an experiment))

"No shards, nor Lore. This is making me uneasy.. Hope this is just because of my obliviousness and not someone or something plotting and working against me. I wonder where Sayiel and or Amarven is. I'm sure q priestess or another of Sehanine would be helpful, if but handy. I have many questions"

((p.s. q priestess is a priestess. Stupid typo difficult to correct on phone))

[Hoihe]

"Boring, boring, boring!

I'm just sitting in a small room, or lying sometimes, forbidden from even leaving the bed for extended periods of time. This blasted Disease is hard on my spirits. Ever since my childhood I've been travelling. I want the open sky over my head, not the blank roof of some house. Hells, even the ceiling of a cave would be better provided I'm constantly exploring it.

I want the road under my feet..
On my face feel the heat.
I want the open night sky
To no longer be a lie

I want the wind on my back
My weapons off the rack
Attached to my belt
I want to feel how I felt

Wandering aimlessly,
With only the moon and the stars as my compass
Experiencing truly,
The world and its sounds as if from trumpets

The fluid mithral of my elven blade
For protection of others it was made
Not for collecting dust,
thankfully though; neither rust!

I want to feel the heat of the midday sun
To finally prank a dwarf and have some fun
I want to feel the wind that catches my cape
As it sculpts it in the elven way, giving it shape

I want to dance, fight, learn and live!
And not munch on what others give.
It is not for hurry or fear,
It is just because I want to cheer!

Go away, oh sickness
You aren't welcome
Away with your thickness,
And do as my words come
It is not your place to be
In the bowels of me
Away with you I say
I command you, ask you nay!

Come to me, health!
Let me enjoy the blessing of Hanali
To pass on a dance of wealth
of fun and celebration of many!

Hear us, gods above
As the twang of the bow
Is replaced with the clicks of our heels
Do harken up and enjoy the meal!

Hats flying, legs soaring
Soles of boots come crashing
Down upon the roaring
Decks of the Whistling Wanderess
As we make merry
Labelas be praised,
For the knowledge, the knowledge is now on the ferry.

Corellon, to you I plead
Warrior poet of the People
Can I have some more mead?
It's the building block of my poem's steeple!

As I look upon the sky,
I can see the reverse
Of a moonbow on the fly
As if Sehanine smiles at this verse.

Boredom, boredom, boredom!
Erevan, I just jest
Welcome to my kingdom,
Where my words gather to fest.
Come and join,
but keep your coin,
And guide my hand
That acolyte needs a prank!

Gods and otherwise
I may not be so wise
But hear my fun plea
And catch the pranking Nëa!
She stole my hat,
that she did,
It may even attract a bat!
Accept my bid
Of a poem
And go get'Em."

[Hoihe]

((Warning, ridiculously long entry at 3577 words, 19157 characters, 226 sentences, 23 paragraphs. Average word length for sentences is 16.



Hoihe sits himself down by the root of a larger tree in the Woods of Sharp Teeth after his prayer to Sehanine in the moonlight. With his his vision enhanced by a spell to make starlight enough for reading and writing he takes out his journal, he makes a long overdue entry:


"By the Seldarine, this entry is long overdue. I suppose I'd have gotten off easier if I had not delayed it so much and rather wrote entries just as events came. But no, I did not, I was too busy with other things. Ah well, here it goes.

As my last entry suggests, I was bedridden with a most terrible sickness. It lasted for nearly a month, but Ivan has brought the cure at last. I was still weak afterwards thanks to the fact that I abstained to keep the maggots from feeding. However, I recovered soon enough.

It seems that my prayers have been answered for the cure came from no other place than the Seldarine! Well, indirectly. It must have been centuries since they created it, and likely not for me. But still, it comes from them. Ivan used some old druidic secret to dilute the cure so that not only I survive, but many more.

On that line of thought, Triel and Soubar's suffering is finally over. I was to lead a small company to Soubar to distribute the cure as Laitae would have led her own to Triel to do the same. However, we were met with some rather unsightly scenes when we arrived in Soubar. Undead were crawling all over the street. I quickly ordered those with me into formation, with the paladins and those of powerful fortitude to hold the line against the zombies created out of this unnatural plague as the rest of us rained arrows and magic at them. I wish it were undead though. We also encountered black orcs and some queer snakes. They looked like oversized maggots but I am unsure whether the attribute of oversized is not an overstatement when I compare it to the final battle for Soubar. The battle where a massive creature shot out from the well. Yelling for everyone to stay away, summoning an angel to aid us against that horror, we won and the cloud of sickness left Soubar at last. We saved some people, amongst them a mother and some children.

Triel endured a much worse fate. The bickering of Zhentarim and our forces led to countless deaths. Sometimes I just wish people would put aside politics and their personal feelings in the name of the common good. At least some people survived, but even as we tried to work alongside the Zhentarim, distributing the cure, bickering was abound on both sides of the fence. I understand that the Zhentarim would favor bickering over such acts, but the fact that paladins themselves valued arguments and chest-beating above helping others leaves me slack-jawed. Personally, I wouldn't wish a death by the maggot-disease to even my worst enemy. Not even to Ar'ri's murderer. Not even to Ashalon. Not even to the wizard whom I can thank for a decade without the ability to control my innate magics. I'd give them all the cure. Then kill them most likely but I'd still make sure they won't die in a way fit for the wicked fantasies of the creatures of the distant Far Realm. Death should be painless when it comes, and not one full of suffering.

However, not only wicked things filled the days that passed by. Soora and I reconciled, again, after the wee bit of a fall out that I masterfully evoked by the river through the unfortunate mention of life expectancy despite the fact that I am going achieve what I promised, even if it takes me a decade. I also decided to throw some of my caution to the wind. The times when one nears death, the times when one's life balances on the tip of a needle open a man's heart truly. It is without doubt that the fact that I met her was a working of Hanali. As afraid as I am to display my thoughts and emotions to her, I have decided that something as innocent as a light hug should not be turned away in fear of loss or rejection. And I think that given enough time, I'll melt away the rest of my inhibitions. I suppose in a sick way I can thank the tragedies of my life for they slow down my approach to such enough that it may avoid falling into the stereotypical human approach to such. One of brash and sudden, hurried decisions on the spur of the moment. I shan't write the phrase down there out of my superstitious nature, nor shall I utter it outside of academic settings until the time comes, but I believe that even when unsaid it is obvious. And let it be that way.

I have embarked upon a pilgrimage after the Triel troubles were over alongside the accursed deep dragon. Ah yes, the deep dragon. Nasty tale that one is as well. Although, there isn't much new to write upon. None the less, a feeling of dread crept into the corners of my heart when we finally faced it, forcing me to lose control over my inhibitions and I uttered the name of all elven gods of today and even of past, not those who have fallen however, begging them to ensure that she remains safe. And it may have been simply the merit of positioning but she was unscathed. Having swore to the gods I will try to repay them if they grant my plea, and not wanting to risk having my name marred by not keeping my oath to the divines, I embarked upon a "Pilgrimage". After of course expressing my gratitude that she is okay.

I did my best to do something that would at least even in the slightest please the god or goddess I targeted, or at least was associated with him or her. It may not have been a pilgrimage in the lexical sense of the word, but I am unsure what one calls a journey in name of the gods' if not that.

For Corellon, I have drawn upon the epithet "The Protector" and his history for my pilgrimage. I have paid a visit to the Misty Forest, and wandered the paths I know that connect the village of Mendel and Luthien with the High Moors. There, I fought the people of the One-Eye, doing my best to scatter them wide in an attempt to grant safer passage for the People. In hindsight, my attempts barely contributed. Those orcs seem numerous. Just moments after I abandoned one path for another, those savages reclaimed it once more, laying in ambush. Luckily, I was soon aided by Mendel and a wood elf from his village and we cleared a few paths lastingly. There was one moment when an orcish druid casted a spell to hold the wood elf, and I jumped at it from the shadows striking true with my new combat style. I don't know what came over me, maybe my sense of Duty, but my blade cut as sharp as if there were no resistance. After the druid fell, likely of some wicked orcen god, the elf gave me a nod of thanks or recognition and we went back to the Glade.

For Sehanine, her being my chosen patron, I have dedicated the most of my deeds. While I tend to do most of those I have done during the journey on tenday-frequent basis, I believe the mindset I kept while doing them was helpful. First, I set out for the Misty Forest's glade to give prayers under the moon. The reason was because I have heard that the Misty Forest may be blessed by the Lady of Dreams to hide the elven villages and thus it's one very good holy site to visit. After my prayers there, fitting for the Mysticism and Journey aspects of Sehanine's requirements, I set out to battle undead of various levels. It was the most successful. I am still unable to believe the apparent fervor that led my elven blade as I battled some of the necromancers within the Fields of the Dead. It was as if my blade was enchanted beyond my own spells, for it cut so true that they sometimes even fell within a just a few swings. I also battled stronger undead, those of the Vault. I managed to dive some depth within, but not too far. Still, I hope my deeds were of some help there. At last, I followed a few elven travellers from the shadows, intervening when they were in danger but otherwise not disturbing. It was in an attempt to imitate how the mists keep those of Misty forest safe, but do not disturb them unlike the outsiders.

For Hanali, I have dedicated one long journey as well. It was unintentional that its length almost matched Sehanine's, but it appears finding true beauty is both difficult and easy. if we go by the elven idiom of "Vivendi thosel sennivi, nievana sen fis. Elrad losi sennivi, nievana jen skiimer lareth", that instructs us to see beauty for what it is without worry for what lies beneath or its length, my job was easy. However, if I had to find a place that I found the most beautiful, then it became difficult. I have visited many places, both deep underground and high above sea level. I have seen nature in its bloom, I have seen beautiful stalagmites, clear bodies of water. I have seen people, fairs and houses. And yet, despite all the great things I have seen I always found my heart and my mind wandering. As if something was lacking. It was the same thing for all areas, but I was not sure what exactly. That is, until one day when I was battling my way through some unwelcoming tenants of my next destination in quest to find beauty I had to take a short respite. My constitution is now weaker than it used to be, and I am unable to maintain battle as long as I have. However, it was as if destiny. As I sat, I saw something twinkle not far from where my foe has fallen. As I went over to gather it, picking it up, cleaning it, I finally realized what was missing. It was not the beautiful diamond that I found. The imperfect diamond that had tiny, white spots in the inside. Round spots, each unique, like snowflakes that when looked at at the right angle appear as if snow was falling within the crystal. No, it was The Snowflake. The Snowflake herself have told me much earlier about the same thing I only then realized. I am paraphrasing but I believe she said: "Why do you need beautiful scenery if I'm there?" She told me that when I complained about the lack of both music for dancing and scenery to do so. And damn it, she was right. I believe I have found what I was looking for. And looking at Hanali's dogma as I write this, I believe I have also fulfilled my pilgrimage. I kept the diamond, for I have plans for it.

For Aedrie, I have sought birds but most have already migrated. I have sought storms, but the season isn't the one that endorses such. Eventually, I started studying her dogma to see what I could do. It appeared to me that she relishes change and freedom the most. And thus, I decided to seek something that would fit that portfolio. I did my best to provide random people with the ability to change towards freedom through acts of generosity, aid or even pranks. I have driven some people to experience the freedom of the birds, even if momentarily. One such occasion was when I led some to a cave with a deep chasm that led to a deep pool of water underneath. Out of experience, I knew the drop was safe. However, I also knew the feeling one has when they jump off the ledge. That feeling is difficult to describe, but one word that could be rightfully attributed to it is "good". In order to avoid wasting ink, I'll keep it short and say I have successfully driven a rather lazy dwarf to enjoy it. Whether he did or not is up to him. Maybe it gave him change, maybe it did not. However, I also began to wonder whether I should honour my bargain by changing a bit myself. I am unclear as to what exactly to change, and what would be enough so this will likely end up as an "Open pilgrimage". However, I have been trying to break some of my social inhibitions that "confined" me in some interactions. Change it, so to say. In ways, I did break free from some of them. I have also became more careful though. So, I do not know. I wonder if I could consult with a priest or somesuch of the winged mother. At last, in an attempt to at least appease her, I climbed up the Cloudpeaks tall enough to hit one of the taller peaks, and there, recited my poem about freedom. And I also crafted a poem on the spur of the moment about storms, birds, change, rebirth and chaos and recited it as well.

For Labelas, my task was easy. As an Avowed, it was something I practiced a lot. I went out, visited some old and ancient sites and studied them. I recorded what history I could learn from them. But I also made note of what has changed since then, and what has not. After all, he is the elven god of knowledge, continuum, passage of time and permanence. I also gave some elven history books to a half-elf to let him learn more about his elven ancestry's history.

For Shashelas, as a sailor, a pilgrimage was long overdue. I gave lecture to some people on the seas and also attempted to swim to the Bluberry island from the River Chiontar. I'll admit I often stopped to rest on the drifted I carried with myself, but such is my constitution after the ordeal. After arriving on the island, I took out some of the Sahuagin, enemies of Shashelas and his allies, with as small collateral damage as I could.

For Angharradh, I am not sure. I am still left in darkness whether she is a metaphor or goddess. But none the less, for reasons of safety I also gave a pilgrimage to her. Using her dogma, I decided to honour her by trying to invent something using the combination of multiple things. It took me some time, but I eventually found an answer in the laboratories. Using varies, wildly different substances I managed to concoct a strong potion. "Strength in unity and Diversity" is how I describe the essence. However, I found that the dogma also mentions different vocations as well and that when melded perfectly they are true beauty. So I did my research about the concoction's capabilities, which turned out to aid one in carving, a hobby I picked up after the first voyage with Mealir, when poured on the wood. And it also turned out that Sonic energies empower the draught once poured on the target, making it even easier. And so, using a magical flute, the potion, I carved her symbol into a wooden plate as well as I could. I hope that will be enough to appease her.

For Rillifane, my job was easy. It was tied in with my pilgrimage for Sehanine to the Misty Forest. However, instead of just focusing on the forest, I focused on the great tree in the middle of the glade. My job was further aided by the gift Mendel gave me, a proper holy symbol of Rillifane. I am not sure if I learned anything during this pilgrimage, unlike the other gods'. Well, I did, having learned Mendel is of his faith. I hope my journey and protection of the glade will be enough.

For Solonor, I wonder what part of his dogma should I try to incorporate into my journey. He is both the Great Archer, and the god of decisions. For the sake of safety, I did both. I took some time on my own to practice archery, and just relax in it. It was rather calming, but I'm not sure if it pleases Solonor. For that reason, I tried to study history and try to figure out why people decided the way they did and took some notes. I also took some time of introspection and spent some time weighing my plans. I made some alterations, nothing major, only enough to fit with the "I will be careful from now on" philosophy I am trying to incorporate into my life. I suppose the following could also fit Rillifane, for I tried to do some Ranger-like things, and protect some parts of nature from psychopathic hunters.

For Fenmarel, I wasn't sure. I studied his dogma but it is something I abhor. And it also greatly conflicts with Angharradh's. Still, I believe all the Seldarine's teachings can be useful. For that reason, I have decided to try and incorporate some of Fenmarel's teachings into my doings, but without the mistrust. I already fight from the shadows when I can, after all, and have been teaching myself to be a jack of all trades since I began adventuring to sustain myself. Still, this is to please the gods so I wondered what could best my understanding of his dogma without doing anything brash. And I finally found it: Some time alone in an alien setting with only so much I brought with myself. I did not bring weapons, nor armour. Only some clothes for my modesty, some boots for my safety. And then I went on to try to survive without having to fall back for a few days. I made myself a spear with my little survival training, a campsite. I hunted and even fought to defend myself with some aid of my innate magics. It was in an attempt to prove that I understood the necessity of one's ability to protect himself without external aid.

For Shevarash, I did what he did and battled the forces of the Underdark. Having gathered a group, in name of caution, I went and battled dozens of drow raiders within Durlag's Tower in his name. It's not much, but I hope it is enough to appease him. However, he is also the deity of loss of the elven pantheon, and thus, I spent some time with the more mystical views of the Black Archer. Keeping with my philosophy, I only recounted the losses I went through in the sake of learning. I found some interesting patterns, curiously enough. Patterns such as that so far I have outlived most people I cared for, people I loved. My family, Ar'ri, my former friends, Camille, Sarah Silverstone, Valge. Most of them died prematurely, around me. It was only through my sheer luck I survived often. Sheer luck that I was perhaps born with? I am not sure. Sometimes loss wasn't through death, but through betrayal or obligations. How I'd have savoured taking vengeance on Vex for his betrayal, or on Ashalon. I've lost Valge because of her obligations, and I've lost Camille to unknown means. She is alive and well.. but no longer seems who she used to be. Sometimes I wonder if all this is just preparing me for something.

For Erevan, my job was simple. Spread joy and pull pranks. For a few days, I did nothing but prank people and have merry. Seeing as how some of his worshippers worship him I admit I let my fingers wander. Nothing big, just a few gold coins from the pockets of people too busy being pranked, but also some odd things they carried. I would have never believed that some people would carry a half-dried ham in their pocket out of luck. I'll admit, it smelled.. so I snuck some soap in there in its stead. I also snuck into some lairs of pirates and monsters and lifted some of their treasures. Nothing valuable, just odd things. Sometimes I replaced them with soap. Then, after gathering all my gathered treasures I gave a prayer to Erevan, dedicating all of it to him, then leaving it all there. It was hilarious to see what I have gathered. In a way, this itself was a prank, for I left this bunch of stuff just next to a merchant's caravan I came across camping out on the road in the night.

All in all, this "Pilgrimage" was a learning experience. I learned a bit about the gods. And also about myself. Now I owe another round of thanks to the gods for what I learned in my effort to thank them. Now that would be ridiculous if I set out on another pilgrimage in an attempt of thanks. And that pilgrimage would set me out on another. And another. And another.

There are some things I wonder, and but I shan't put them to pen yet. I'll consider Solonor's dogma and first think about them for longer.













((OOC note:

Hoihe can hit 14 wisdom with an owl's wisdom scroll, and has 12 wisdom wearing his clothes. [although some weirdo bug gave him perma 12 wisdom.. which lasted through an RcR..]

The notes about weapon effectiveness are basically lucky days. I had a ton of critical hits as I adventured with the intent of "Pilgrimage", and I went.. "Hey, why wouldn't Hoihe assume that it had a greater meaning?" and so they are here.

The diamond was found as I was walking around the server to find a nice spot. A random monster dropped it.

[Hoihe]

Hoihe sits down underneath one of the countless rocky outcroppings of the Cloudpeaks that provide shelter against the merciless hailstorm that has been working oh so relentlessly to ruin Hoihe's excursion into the frosty trails. There, he conjures out his warded journal from within one of his many bags and takes a quill in his left hand, and an inkwell in his other as he begins to scribe away:

" It is the twelfth of DeepWinter, in the year of 1350. Indeed, time passes so very quickly that we have entered a new decade at last. It's almost three decades now that I have resided on Toril, with a few excusrions there and then, hopefully only but a fraction of what I shall truly spend here. But it isn't the longevity that I seek, for it is but a scrap of it, although a very generous one, but rather kinship that I find lacking amongst the people I share blood with. I shan't dribble words about my opinion on humanity and how it could improve in this entry of my journal, and neither shall I regale further into the ideas I have for my transition, for the how and thenafter. I shall use this moment of respite during my little adventure across the Cloudpeaks to recount the events of these last few days, some of them beyond surprising and truly deserving of being recorded.

The most important, perhaps, is the return of the Sy'tel-quessir bardess and Arcane Archer, Averëon Elestar. While I promised not to ramble about my dreams and intents, I shall break it for but a mere few moments to express my curiousity as to meeting her, for she had been one major push towards realising my true path. Had it not been for her encountering the Yaara Nevae Palarae Onna, I'd have never became a worshipper of the Lady of the Dreams. Or perhaps, I'd have still became one, but through a different chain of events. That is beyond me, but I do know that I ended up learning Her ways in just the perfect few moments thanks to the lass. And for this very reason, I shall work extra-hard to provide salvation to her from the impending paranoia and grief that this creature intends for her. In other news, it would appear the girl is none the less cheerful than she had used to be. I did not know her from before the event, but she, coming from the fact that she's an elven bardess, seemed to be a witty and cheerful one. And it is a great relief for my heart and soul to see her still sport a quick smile despite her state. I must admit, it is the most inspiring. And she has a great sense of humour, too, for she did not take offense to a little bit of teasing, but rather retorted. I'll need to introduce her to Soora one day, perhaps. That is, if they do not meet beforehand already.

Speaking of Soora, I think quite a few elves whom I had managed to give aid when they were in dire need of it owe the lass quite a great many thanks. Were it not for her teaching me how to sneak through enemy lines, or even friendly ones I would have never had saved Elethieneth from the wrath of the savage orcs, nor could I have had saved Delade in time from the goblin worg riders. Nor would I have been able to provide much needed aid namelessly to oh so many unknown elves that I aided from the guise of shadows, rolling out healing potions and and supplies from under bushes so that they can use them. Have I tried to do the same for the unnamed ones, I'd have most likely been rejected for the crazy idea of a human helping an elf. This way, I can provide aid without risking my ability to provide aid. And it is perfect.

Elethieneth's case was a rather odd one. It almost felt like something greater than I nudged me in the correct position at the correct time to do it. My intent that day was to check out a pond or lake near the River Chiontar in hopes of finding a fine spot to take Soora and perhaps dance. As I was sneaking about, as I prefer to do when travelling for it is much safer that way, I stumbled across a bunch of Greyfox tribesmen. Nerys, I think her name was from our mission together, managed to spot me and point me out just as I was passing through a bush. In my quick reaction, I tugged my hat over my face to hide my identity to the best of my ability and teleported away. I am unaware as to their reaction but I arrived a few hundred miles north within the stone circle that provides portal to the village in the Misty Forest. Finding myself without anything to do I quickly did some basic protective wards and ventured north, just wandering aimlessly. I fought a bunch of hobgoblins and even cleared out one of their warcamps, finding an empty ale stein in a very well trapped chest. It is beyond my comprehension why they held an empty ale stein in a very well trapped chest, but I am not to judge. Suddenly I caught tracks of a Ssvaklor what I had hunted down, then some manticores. The tracks led me close to the Misty Forest where I had encountered a large number of orcs on the trail to the village. At first, I fought them, using the shadows to my adventage, but as their numbers increased I broke the fighting and just snuck about, observing them. And that is when I noticed a large convergance of orcs, perched above some armoured body on the ground. They were covered in crimson sin just as much as the body and as I snuck closer I saw Elethieneth yonder, her life ebbing away slowly as she lay there unconscious. I quickly made plans and distracted the orcs enough so that I can sneak in, grab the body and get out. It worked almost as if a miracle, and I got the priestess, no, friend of mine to the Gale not far from the Village. I then quickly took out my best Improved First Aid Kit and took to her wounds. I stiched together that was too wide, I dressed tightly what had been ebbing too wildly, and I read scrolls of healing over wounds that were beyond my skill. Eventually, her breathing began to resume a normal pattern, alongside the beat of her heart. I had forced some liquids down her throat, amongst them a special extract of willow bark that is also used by the herbwitches of some rural communities that eases the pain and another one that hastens the generation of blood, one that I had used many months ago when I still knew the secrets of the power within the very substance of life. All in all, she finally awakened and we had a long over-due talk. It was about everything, but religion was our main concern. She did not mind that I worshipped Sehanine now, she even endorsed it, saying that if it was what it takes for me to understand the mysteries of my life, then so bit. She had even endorsed my dream, my hope. And not even just endorsed it but rather gave me tips on achieving the proper mentality. I am to try and dream of the greatest, the most magnificient forest I can think of, and focus on it each night or day, whenever I sleep. And I shall keep to it.

There were other events of course. For example, I had heard of a non-drow who had been a favoured of Eilistraee. This is something I'd like to talk to Luthien about, alongside the rumour of a drow wanting to shed her heritage. These topics... are confusing beyond my meager understanding and I'd rather ask someone I trust, actually, I'd rather ask a troupe of people I trust before taking action.

I now see that the moon in rising on the horizon, and that my journey to this hell's ridge had been worth the effort. It is very beautiful. And this is what I shall take as the sign to finish this entry for now. And why should I continue? I had recorded everything that should be recorded for now.

- Hoihe Dacino,"

[Hoihe]

Once on the top of the mountain, once at the bottom of the valley. At least, that's how I view the period since my last entry. From amnian betrayal and retribution to visions and revelations.

Where to begin? I suppose I shall stick to a chronological order, as I usually try with my journal. Well, Mealir and the rest of us have finally decided to pay back the Amnians the gold they requested, having killed the black dragon, hoping they'd leave us the hell alone afterwards. How wrong we were! As we were delivering and handing over the coin, listening to snarky guards, assassins and mages infiltrated the Whistling Wanderess and murdered everyone but Lorrain on the ship. I'd had a feeling when we left the embassy, something about the last snarky comment urged me to hurry back to the ship but I shrugged it off as my usual paranoia around nobility. Turns out, my gut was right. We came upon a truly horrific scene. The blood of innocent covered the entire deck, and bodies lay on the floor with keen stabbed wounds along critical spots.

If that wasn't enough, we decided to try and find the killers. We hoped we could apprehend them, that they were still on board. As we headed towards the Captain's Cabin, to also check for the rings, we ran into Lorrain lying unconsciously in a terrible state, but alive. We quickly patched him up, and I was sent to check the cabin. The entire cabin was turned upside down, but thank the Seldarine, the rings weren't missing. Somehow they missed them. We decided to split up, leaving Soora behind to guard the recovering Lorrain as myself, Elaria, Mealir and Rain descended into the hold. As we scouted down there I heard noises from the deck above. I casted a Sending and urged Norton to come and aid us in our time of need. He did not reply. As the sounds continued I don't know what happened. Maybe a nerve snapped, my guilt for not listening to my gut before overwhelming me, or just mere worries for the safety of Lorrain and Soora, especially Soora, but I turned heels over head and dashed for the cabins. There she was, unharmed, safe. I hoped Mealir, Elaria and Rain can fend for themselves. After all, three to two was still quite an advantage. Unfortunately, I was wrong again. I survived, so maybe this time my gut worked to protect my sorry hide, but Mealir and Rain had it close. They left Elaria behind to watch their backs as they descended to the deepest of the holds. There they found mages and assassins, and a near-death experience. Luckily, Elaria got myself and Soora down there to tend to their wounds, and they recovered without a hitch or requirement for high level divine magic such as Regenerate.
Still, it left us all broken. Mealir wanted suicide, Soora was angry with me for routing, Rain was like herself, Elaria was busy aiding and myself? My mind was racing, on the verge of depression.

After we took care of the deceased crew, luckily, not through burials but through resurrections, I continued down my lane of research into Darkness. Since the Cloakwood Mines, and since Averëon and Plissken, this was the starkest clue I had going for my quest.
As it turns out, during a night someone or something had done something truly daring and horrible. When dawn broke, nailed to a billboard with a heavy iron spike was a large piece of human skin , apparently cut from the entire back of an adult male,where it hung like a limp curtain. This alone is truly horrifying and gut wrenching, but what was written on it sent shivers down my spine, despite my Dragon Warrior training and heritage. It was a different kind of fear I had felt before. This was a fear of dread, of possible loss, a feeling that everything had been for nothing. It was a dreadful feeling, much akin to the one I felt a little over a decade ago, but not so strong, or the one I felt before arriving on the coast Perhaps the message alone couldn't have invoked such, but with the scene aboard the ship, it was powerful enough to almost force me to faint as I tried to take it in. On the human skin the following was carved with bloodied jagged lines:

HAVE YOU EVER HAD A MOMENT OF ABSOLUTE CLARITY WHERE THE CLOUDS PART AND EVERYTHING FALLS INTO PLACE I HAVE AND THAT WAS A MOMENT OF UTTER TERROR FOR ME THE EYE WATCHES FROM BEYOND THE VOID WE BAND OF FOOLS CALLED OUT TO ANOTHER WE HAD HOPED TO CALL MASTER BUT DARKNESS BEYOND OUR COMPREHENSION IS WHAT ANSWERED INSTEAD THE EMBRACE OF THE ABYSS THE GNASHING FANGS OF ITS INFINITE LEGIONS ARE A MERCY COMPARED TO WHAT WE HAVE BROUGHT UPON THIS WORLD HOPE FOR SALVATION WITHERED IN THE THROES OF MADNESS WE CAN DO NAUGHT BUT SCREAM AND DIE

Once I had recovered from the shock, I once again took a mind of steadfast determination and done the most accessible thing I could, thinking once more that even then, there may yet be hope. I regaled the High Priest of the Temple of Morning Song with everything I know about this case, and he had offered his aid. He did warn me he cannot give anything at the moment without knowing what I need. Still, I've got his support and that's good. I spent the rest of the day trying to learn more about the incident, but nobody saw anything; and the amount of theories I heard equaled the number of rain drops in a storm. Although, examining that metaphor, while a storm is destructive and often obstructive, concealing, when one gives it enough time the water it brought will give strength to many great sprouts that will one day save lives from hunger or such.

I eventually retired to the Risen Phoenix, which I must admit, was a fitting name for an inn to spend that particular night in. As the phoenix gains new strength from its ashes, so did I, to say. After renting a room I tossed myself into sleep. Usually, my dreams are my fantasies, my dreams and hopes. Always, before going to sleep, I focus on a great, eternal forest of beauty that baffles even the greatest of poets, as Elethieneth suggested, and often my dreams are related to such. But this time? This time it was so different that I jolted right out of it without any feeling of rest.

The dream was something that I can hardly call a dream, or even a nightmare. When sleeping, I usually feel in control, I feel safe. I know that I am in my world, and that everything that happens there won't harm me. And more often than not, my world follows my whims and desires. But this time it felt real. As I stood in the middle of an arid, desolate, apocalyptic landscape with jagged rocks piercing up from the earth as if they were stabbing at the sky. I immediately recognized where I was, but I couldn't make out from where I had known the place. It couldn't have been somewhere I visited, for I was never in a place where the sky was so dark, so desolate, so cloudy. It was as if oblivion itself hung overhead. Through the heavy mist, which itself was different from the welcoming mist I imagine my Lady as, I made out the first of them. Thee emaciated frame, the shambling, zombie-like walk. The eyes... or rather, the lack thereof. As I drew nearer to them, my hand reaching out in their direction, that is when they turned towards me and I saw at last. I saw, and I screamed in realization, in defiance, in a feeling of loss, in a feeling of despair.

Staring back at me were empty eye sockets. Those empty eye sockets. Black ichor-like pus oozed from the cavities and that is when the realization hit me like a bucket full of cold water. I knew where I was, and I knew where I knew the place. The vision in the cave deep beneath the Cloakwoods, connected to the Mines. A despair filled me. Did I not protect myself proper from its reach? Did it finally found me, to torment me and turn me from my path? Were I close, or did it just want to toy with me? I did not know. The spirit in Rashemen warned me that it will come, but I did not expect so soon, so without warning. None the less, I looked about. I then noticed the darkness has not yet arrived, and these people were still alive.

I screamed out to them, a warning. They didn't react. Either they didn't hear me, which is depressing, or didn't care or want to hear me, which is worrying. I told them to run, that a terrible fate is beckoning, but they just shambled off in random directions, as the mist swallowed their forms like some phantom. I just stood there, utterly alone, devoid of hope. Was this a reflection of what is to come? Was this a reflection of what is?! Was this a message to say that all I did is for naught, and we shall all lose?

Perhaps it was, but it was not from an unbiased source. Most likely, it came from my foe itself, as it tried to deter me. I do not know if it was just a thing of my despaired mind, or it actually happened, but I am vouching for reality. While I think my mind capable of great things, I am not sure if it could pierce through the creature's influence so powerfully, that I could bring such calm upon my own soul in such a moment. That I could make myself feel such a presence, imagine such.

From the looming dark clouds, a ray of moonlight struck through, then some, and then more. Despite the oppressive clouds, there still was an island of light, and while its light was cold, unlike that of the sun, I enjoyed it. I do not know how, but I felt protected. I just closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling, lifting my chin to the sky. And that's when I heard a voice call out. I looked to where it came from, but none of the figures I saw spoke. Then i heard it again, and I could place it nowhere. Then again, and only then I realized it came from within. It was powerful, yet not numbing. It was encouraging, uplifting. Each word pulsed, and the echo itself left marks to be recounted forever in my memory. As a sweet thing to remember. The voice spoke to me, which was feminine and elven, yet even more melodic. In a way, it was similar to Mythrien Serath's in terms of tone, but almost like the voice Helm's Avatar used. So powerful! As it spoke, the more and more I began to associate it with Sehanine Moonbow. I hope it was her, but first I shall seek out Seldarinite Clergy, to ask them about such visions possibility. In any case, the voice told me that I am not alone in this struggle, and that there is hope. It told me that I must go alone, for the power of darkness scales with numbers, for it works with madness, and in groups such is amplified. It has not yet arrived, and I needn't face It. What I must do is remove the anchor, which is some kind of entity. I must battle it, and succeed. It is both an anchor, and a beacon that leads it to our world. Without it, it will be lost wandering the outer realms aimlessly once more. As the voice ceased, the moonlight disappeared and the clouds closed. before darkness reached me, I was forced out of the vision. The last thing I saw was the dreaded eye. I am being watched, by both sympathizers and foes.

At last, we took vengeance upon our betrayers. We were commissioned by the dukes to capture the matron of house Corwar, and make sure she doesn't return whatever she was carrying to Amn. We succeeded, but not without some odd events.

First of all, Rain. I think she served Corwar in her past, for she had me promise to call for Luthien should she act strange during the skirmish. And she did, teleporting Mealir away to Candlekeep as we were about to capture the matron. She also took the flute from Mealir and gave it to me after some convincing, after we discovered some of its abilities.

As it turns out, the flute can fulfill the desires of the player based on how well they play, the clarity of the image of their desire and how many rings are present. Originally, we thought the rings tracked each other, but now I think the flute tracked the rings because we wanted to find the rest. How did we find this out? Mealir tried to track down the ring with the matron by thinking of it as a valuable. The flute, incomplete as it is, misinterpreted it and brought Mealir's gold from his bank in Baldur's Gate to his feet. Every single coin. It was rather hilarious, and half the crew was asking for a raise seeing it. Suffice to say, Mealir was grumbling. Then he played, thinking about Amnian assassins, and he summoned Rain. Which was also hilarious, and led to the taking of flute from him and it getting to me.

During our assault of the Corwar ship as I mentioned Mealir and Rain disappeared, and Soora was left behind to guard our escape. This time I wasn't worried, for she'd be safe there. We soon started running out of options however so I used the flute. I played it, focusing on drowning the amnian soldiers by putting them underwater. It worked, sort of. The entire ship started capsizing, and we barely escaped. I'm only writing this entry now because my arms were sore for days from the power-swim I endured to survive. Soora escape the sinking ship ahead of time, and we used her rowboat to get to Mealir. He teleported back to the Wanderess after Rain kidnapped him.

Once we were on the Wanderess, I gave the flute to Mealir as per my promise to Rain to only do so during emergencies, and he somehow transported himself to the matron. Luckily, he overpowered the mage, kidnapped her and lit [hopefully] her mansion on fire. We got the matron stowed away now, and our plans are to get some info out of her without resorting to interrogation.

As for Rain, I contacted Luthien as she asked. For the moment, it is unknown what had happened to her. I pray to Sehanine she is okay, she's an elf, after all. I hope I'll be able to help her.

[Hoihe]

Months have passed, yet no new entries beyond small notes and records of dates and events fill my journal's pages. Until today, for I believe yesterday's deeds and events are worthy of the ink and much, much more. While there had been countless events between the last entry and this, I intend to compile them all as a separate entry once they have reached their conclusion. For this entry, I shall focus on a singular event of great importance.

It happened on the transition between the 29th and 30th of Mirtul, in the year of 1350, a date which I shan't ever forget. A few days before, awaiting the rescue mission of the Bard to take place, I had grown tired of sitting on a ship anchored out of the sea, unmoving, and decided to take a little break. As it turns out, Soora had decided likewise and at the end of the first day back on land, we've managed to run into each other.

On the first day on land, we just spoke and planned the coming days. Our plans were typical, an adventure and a dance. The adventure was mandatory, for the still ship only built anxiety and no release. And we needed release, excitement and danger. As for the dance, while we could dance on board, it was too cramped and busy for us to focus on each other.
We spoke of other things as well, such as curious sights and our reasons for the disembarkation. We've ended the day by me planting a kiss just between her cheeks and above her lips, teasing to draw closer and closer.

On the second day we journeyed. It was a quite exhilarating day. We had decided to explore the lands where the former elven kingdom of Miyeritar stood, the High Moors. From bugbears to giant mutant trolls, we've fought everything. We did not find much material treasure, but it was still more than worth the investment. From curious sights of barely hatched ssvaklors to almost crazy plans made to steal from the bugbears, we've had our fun. However, even despite our excellent synergy, I've had to call upon a powerful angel to face the leader of this strange breed of trolls. This day was ended by a journey back to my campsite, during which we have talked and joked around, and then a kiss that only barely missed her lips. I was running out of room to tease.

The third day was the charm though. Despite planning to dance right after our adventure, I decided to delay it due to the smell and grime we were covered in thanks to the adventure. In hindsight, I believe it was an excellent idea to do so, for I have found a great, beautiful area off the Chiontar to dance. In addition to the location, I could cement a dance I have invented, a dance that explored and presented her with the history of our time together.

From the earliest moments after the difficult start, where I was afraid and distanced myself from her, through the times where I chased her to make good on my stupidity (the period where I was in a dress), across the era when I fell and she supported my weight, keeping me strong, being one of the few reasons for me to keep going, to the happiness and celebrations we often find, concluding it all by mimicking the tease I had started in these last few moments.

I spun her around, then stepped away, a motion which I had repeated many times, stepping away later and later, causing her to draw closer and closer until we've met at the end. It was a metaphor to me becoming braver and braver as of late, performing more and more daring acts.

When I finally had her close, she still left me questioning. For when I asked her if it would be an issue if I ran out of room to tease in another area, she just told me that there was only one way to find out.

And I admitted to her, confessed to her, in elven and in common, as I ensured she faced the rising sun of spring and summer behind my back:
"Then so be it. I shall now wear my heart on my sleeves and let words I had feared dance upon the winds and into your ears. For I have a confession to make, a movement to fulfil.
Let the setting moon and the rising sun stand be my witness, but Soora, I will not admit to you with no fear...
Im wen le."

And with no more room to tease left for me, I had done one of the most daring acts I have tried in the last year or so. While I have faced countless life-threatening situations, death would have hurt less than failure in this moment. For in death I would have joined my goddess in her realm, but failure in this moment would have meant mourning and irreparable damage.

A lot of people toss the words "I love you" and its variants around a lot these days, forgetting the power behind these words. While they do not invoke as immediate and as extravagant results as the other words of power, such as killing someone in a single word or petrifying someone, they can cause just as much if not more damage if invoked at the wrong moment, with the wrong tone, to the wrong person. They can kill a soul, petrify one's hopes and wreck their spirit, blind them to the future.

However, if done right, if invoked at the right, the perfect moment, if called upon to the right person with the perfect tone, they become words of creation. They lift the spirit, giving it adamantine wings to that it may never fall; they combine the hearts in a crucible of mithral, pure and light, while stronger than steel; they join the souls behind a shield made of the thickest, cleanest diamond, impregnable to the sullying of others. They make the future bright, even if it is dark; they make even hardships endurable. When their link is threatened, those who uttered it become unstoppable.

I do not know what heavenly body must I give my eternal thanks to, and such I apologise if I missed any, but Hanali, Corellon and Sehanine shall forever be the closest to my heart, in no particular order. Sehanine is the goddess whom I follow though, the one I have entrusted my path. For that reason, I bellow my thanks from the highest mountain to the lunar mystery.

I am thankful, for I have uttered the words at the right moment. My motion was met with its mirrored counterpart, my lip was met with hers. It was a perfect moment, if not minutes. It certainly felt like minutes, if not hours. My words were appreciated and welcomed, returned in action; something worth more than just mere utterance.

We have exchanged gifts afterwards. I gave her a floating stone or gem that changes its colour depending on the angle of lighting and the angle of viewing. It shall protect her from countless malevolent forces of arcane and divine. She told me to extend my hand, and on my finger she planted a ring rivalling that of high nobility and wizardry. It is a powerful ring, capable of healing even the most serious of wounds thrice a day, with power that shall only run out when our link does.

I still babbled, even after my confession. Sometimes I believe she is amused with me, but her tone was admiring at the same time. Nevertheless, we made it clear that our farewells from that day after shall be whispered directly, lip to lip, and not entrusted for the wind to project. However, we have also agreed not to call this motion farewell, for it is too strong a word, and rather just call it as it is. A kiss of good night, a kiss of good dreams, a kiss of travel well and so forth.

As for the words themselves, the worlds of love I have made clear, I will not utter them every time we meet. But I will utter them with a certain frequency befit the situation, for even after the first utterance, they can cause harm if done too often or if done too rarely. Done too often and it loses its power, done too rarely and its effect may wane, even if actions make up for it.

All in all, the weight befit a celestial body have finally fallen from my heart. The future is still unclear, and it shall never be entirely, but I finally know one thing: whatever is to come, she is with me a hundred percent and I am with her. By the Dacino's Duty, I swear I love her.

[Hoihe]

Hoihe sits down on the beach south of the crag where Candlekeep stands as a beacon of Knowledge. The man would look upon it in the distance a few times, as he waits for the moon to approach its zenith. With an astronomer's accuracy, coming from his skill as a navigator, he would begin singing a praise for Sehanine Moonbow, quietly at first and then more boldly as the lunar representation of the goddess raises higher and higher.

After about half an hour of praise, fifteen minutes before midnight and fifteen afterwards, Hoihe would sit down just out of the sea's reach, and take his journal in his lap, presenting its empty pages to whoever daring enough to spy on him and to the moon itself. He'd quietly whisper the following in elven: "My Lady, you require us, your followers, to spend our liftetimes learning just as Oghma does. Please allow me to quietly present you with a revelation I was too obtuse to learn were it not for the blessing I have received from Hanali."

And so he begins to scribble in elven, this time plainly with no artistic code, no metaphors, no mix of four languages with arcane symbolery or any of his other usual methods of encryption.

"Where should I begin,

I should begin with a bold statement that I learned and wish to fix. I am a selfish man.

Many of my friends would refute that statement, for to them, it seems that all I wish is to protect Soora and others. However, I have learned that as I tried to protect Soora, I managed to hurt her.

Let me explain,

I have a few scars. Not visible ones, but emotional, mental ones. Too many times have I lost too much without the chance to help. Too many time I was helpless, standing as a mere observer, denied of even trying.

Death is not something I fear, for I have faith in Sehanine. However, I know it is not my time yet and also know that my untimely demise would hurt others, even if it would allow me to be reborn as an elf without the pains of discovering the method on my own power. What I fear is the inability to act, the inability to stand tall and tell Myrkul that 'Not today!', should it come to me or Soora. I've lost Ar'ri without a chance to even try helping her. I've lost Camille the same way, I could only act too late. Valge is different, but in a way I still lost her due to my inability. I fear the same would happen with Soora. I fear that I would survive, but she would be lost to events beyond my ability. I fear the pain that would follow, for it would be worse than decapitation.

And so, I selfishly throw myself before her as a blade or axe or anything bears upon her. I block it with my own body, for I fear the pain I would suffer seeing her injured. Even if my help barely does anything, I still do it out of fear and blind desperation.

However, I have forgotten some things. For one, I had forgotten her power. She is more powerful than I, even if not in the field of raw arcane. For the other, I had forgotten than she loves me as much as I do. She fears for me as much as I do for her. She seeks to protect me as much as I want to protect her. Most importantly though, my pain hurts her.

I was so preoccupied about her physical well being, about my own mental stability that I failed to notice she worries the same. And so, by trying to ensure she would not be hurt, so that I do not get hurt, by getting hurt myself I managed to wound her more. And that is why I am selfish.

My journal should not only hold entries regarding pain and realizations of own faults. It needs to hold praise as well, and praise I shall declare!

By Hanali, by Corellon, by Erevan and Sehanine! I swear with honest soul that I am indeed blessed by you, for I feel in such a way.

I feel so because of Soora's patience. Instead of becoming angry with me, instead of leaving me for my selfishness, she guides and teaches me. Her transparency and goodwill humbles me. She may have had to play on my guilt; she may have had to make me feel terrible, but her intent is now clear. She wanted me to know that she was hurt, asking me to consider it and rethink my actions.

I have understood now, and I am compelled to thank her the next time we meet. I have this beautiful, purple gem. I shall not give it to her immediately for it'd seem that I wanted to buy her patience. Instead, I shall seek to act in the way I should have acted from the beginning. The way I preached myself but not acted. She is to me as I am to her, but she is not me and nor am I her. I will need to prove her that she can trust me with her back and prove her that I trust her with mine as well. I will need to act in a way that would not hurt me if she had acted the very same. It will be a good rule of thumb to follow... 'If she did it, would I feel bad or worry for her? Would I be hurt?' and if the answer was yes, I had better not done the deed unless it was absolutely neccessary.

My Duty as I have sworn is to protect elves. However, I have to watch out for their mental and emotional well-being as well.

But I do not seek to protect Soora in any way due to her being an elf. I seek to protect her because she is Soora, and I do not mean being called Soora but rather her person. And one way to protect her is to ensure she does not have to worry for me more than she already has to due to my insatable lust for adventure and danger. I owe her that, for she had proven to me she listens. When I expressed my concerns for when she was absent, although she denied most of them, she still acquired a scroll of Sending to calm my worrying soul.

[Hoihe]

Trust

Dancing has quite a few forms.
Many are to be done alone,
but the best are what a couple performs
A slow, but powerful tide to a rapid cyclone.

However, the partners cannot be anyone
They need to be able to let go
They need to be someone special
Being special is not enough, though.

There is one ingredient that is critical for a truly great dance
Can you guess what it is, my snow-white Egret?
Allow me to allude to it, it won't be something to regret
Just keep up as I do, and do not slight the stance

It is a lovely thing,
Something many hunt
Something many haunt
But let me tell you something

It is often avoided, out of fear
It is often hoarded, out of worry
But the a former is not something I adhere
But remember, keep with the flurry!

It is also a rare commodity,
Thus people fear losing it
The way some of us try to protect it...
may be an oddity.

I for one was so afraid of losing it and the associated person
That I did not see that it appeared I did not share it
Although I thought it was noble, the reason
Now I see how it should be, and so shall be it

It is indeed a critical part of a dance.
But it also is of life.
But then, dancing is life

As I hold you now, I know you feel it
As you hold me now, I must declare
I feel it

But even now, we feel it
That makes it truly wonderful
No matter the circumnstance
It exists

Even as I do not see you,
I know you shall stand behind me
Back me up
So shall I, you.

For few things are as dear to my heart
As holding yours to mine
It cannot be anything else but art
for it feels unique, perfect.

When I am weak, afraid, spent
All I need is but to lean against you
In your arms
And I will know everything will be alright

[Hoihe]

With a lot of notes, all jumbled up, the Journal nears its end. At the last page, almost as if strategically place, an elegant left hand with long fingers writes:

"I never expected my Duty to be fulfilled in such a way, to protect an elf this way. But there it is.

My Duty to the People, with its previous reason, is done. And so is my tale as what people know me as. Not much room to write left in this book, I must start a new journal. A new beginning, I guess, as if Labelas and Oghma wanted me to symbolize it further than I already do.