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 Post subject: Aniel's little black book
Unread postPosted: Thu Jul 05, 2018 5:44 am 
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The journal of Aniel Fereyn

1. The item:

Image


A black leatherbound pocketbook, secured with a leather string. Between front cover and first page Aniel stores a few folded letters, pieces of parchment, some scrolls and a hauntingly realistic picture* showing two elven girls close together looking at the viewer (update, picture removed now for IC reasons), also a quill and some pieces of charcoal. The first page has her name and an address in the Docks District of Baldur's Gate written on it, offering a small reward to a potential finder for returning it.

The pages following are filled with various scribbles, notes, some sketches, lists of items and names until a few pages further in the writing becomes more organized, featuring dates above entries.
Despite Aniel's heavy slang in spoken word, her writing is actually neat and accurate, although sometimes a little hasty. While many quick notes are written with charcoal or lead, the more organized entries are written in black ink.


(( *ooc footnote: Making the "lightpainting" was some not too serious roleplay between the two characters meant more as a joke before showing the picture, but we decided to make it canon just between our characters. Even though the ingredients for early photography would probably available, this is in no way meant to introduce it into/hurt the setting and the picture will not be used as a major plot item in any way. If it ever gets found by someone else it should be treated just like a very realistic drawing ))


Last edited by casadechrisso on Thu Jul 05, 2018 4:46 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Aniel's little black book
Unread postPosted: Thu Jul 05, 2018 6:15 am 
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3 Flamerule, 1354

Diary, meh.

I went to a healer today at the Gate. Can't eat, can't rest, too tired to go on. Need some medicine to make me sleepy or wake me up. Have to eat something too, need my senses.
The man asked me a few questions and said I should start a diary to get troubling thoughts of my chest. Also keep a record of meals and drinking. Should come back in two weeks. Got no medicine. Bought some scrolls of the sleep spell, didn't work.

FAI: Wine, some bread. Kept my watch like the last 3 days, always keeping an eye on the path into the forest. Hard to stay awake, sometimes seeing things that aren't there. If Nathan is right with his theory I won't make many friends in the upcoming weeks, people will think I'm paranoid or just a bandit myself. Or like Oth think that I'm the lone elf. Going the forest route every night. Nothing at the trees, maybe need to make more carvings, but a blind fish could see them already. Two or three spots I should always go back to and check for any signs. Druids annoy me. Did I miss any caves?

( later that day )

Had another talk with Laeria. Told her about the letter. I don't think I want to kill her anymore, she is actually nice and our problem is not important right now. She made me a salad of Roseapples(?) with some berries and some tea, ate everything and finally got a few hours of rest. Woke up hungry, had some bread. No wine. Need my senses. Will go the long route again later. Need to learn how the other elves manage without sleep.
Laeria is giving up I think. Said it's her decision, we elves live up to a thousand years and we have time to wait it out. Not going to wait a century, I don't think it's her decision, that night in the woods it wasn't. Will try to find some mushrooms on my tour this night, might be able to get those down.


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 Post subject: Re: Aniel's little black book
Unread postPosted: Thu Jul 05, 2018 4:09 pm 
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4 Flamerule, 1354

Crazy elf

Mushroom pan, some bread, some wine to spill it down. Ate about half of the mushrooms, they were fine I guess but my stomach is rebelling against almost everything. Keeping the rest for later. My mind's always going back to the night she was taken while I was frozen, bleeding everywhere and had to watch through my bloody tears. I miss her so much.
But my guts tell me Nathan was right. It all comes together now, it's starting to make sense.
People got mad about me in front of the FAI I think. The mad elf who's asking everyone to remove their hood. I don't care. As long as they don't arrest me. I can't afford being arrested now, need to be careful, only approaching people outside the Inn anymore, not in the courtyard. Can't lose my room here either, and roof access.

Had to threaten someone with violence. I don't want to do that, why can't they just show their damn faces. What do I care about how ugly they are, if they are tieflings or, hell even drow, I don't care. There was nothing about the woman's face that required hiding it, why was she making such a fuss about it? At least if she had something to hide I guess she won't send any guards after me.

Spent the night on the long tour, starting at High Hedge this time. Of course nothing. There's nothing special there, lake would be nice for a bath maybe if it wasn't for the bears. Looked into some caves. Found a fresh campfire in the troll cave. Her? I doubt it, but possible. But no, my guts tell me I need to get back into the Cloakwood. Maybe skip the grand tour altogether.

I was watching the carved tree for a long time. The one with the strange markings that aren't mine. Maybe I should ask one of the circle about the markings, but I don't know any of them. Laeria maybe. The two druids from my search two days ago wouldn't be much help I suppose, didn't like my comment about burning the whole fecking forest down. I still wouldn't mind if somebody does.
The strange mushroom circle. Won't pick mushrooms there, somehow feels like a bad idea. There's something to it, I can't tell what. Didn't find anything.
Wasn't at my full senses in the cave this time, the strange inhabitants almost caught me. Dangerous place, I doubt she'd come here to hide. Maybe them.
Probably should stop looking into the mines. Too tedious, I'm losing too much time there and my guts say no. No, the river draws me everytime, and Eamy telling me her badger lives around here.
Could people just stop annoying me with their smalltalk? I'm not interested in their friendly chatter now, I have things to do!
Added some carvings, although I think the old ones are visible enough. Back to the Inn in the early morning hours, now sitting on the roof, writing while I watch the road. Having a glass of wine. Or two, we'll see. Day is for resting now, night is my friend. Maybe I can spare a few hours around noon every day once I find some medicine to make me tired enough. And stop the gut burning. Burns so much...


Last edited by casadechrisso on Thu Jul 05, 2018 5:17 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Aniel's little black book
Unread postPosted: Thu Jul 05, 2018 4:31 pm 
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4 Flamerule, 1354, continued

(( nothing is neat about this entry anymore, quick scribbles, scratched out text, some stains that could be either from wine or from blood, little of it makes sense but a few notes of absolute self hate ))

Tool! Just a feckin' tool! Used! / Why? Why? Why? / Hate myself so so so much / Stupid! Stupid! / Corm Orp? Yes, if, then Corm Orp. River? Cliff? / Silence / Peace, just a little / Just a Place to Be / Sleep, please! / Not going there, never! / Lost / Cliff maybe. Splash. Just like that. / All the wine in the world (underlined a dozen times )/ Not giving in / No, not me, not me. Feck you! / Burn fecking forest! / Kill fecking badger! / Stop. It!


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 Post subject: Re: Aniel's little black book
Unread postPosted: Fri Jul 06, 2018 8:20 pm 
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(( This whole section is not an entry. ))

Two days and two nights she had spent in the darkness of her mind, alone, grieving, hating herself. Her hands were bloody from scratching, her nose, her cheeks. She could not let go of it, the thought, the utter devastation of having been used all the time. She was to be turned into an unvoluntary assassin by the person she believed was her closest friend and love, used like a tool. How dark had Eamrae's soul become so early that this could have happened and that Aniel could not have seen it. She thought about the rope, considered the bridge or the cliff. A death in battle maybe, but she would not ever again give someone the satisfaction of besting her. No, she wanted to go with her head raised high, by her own hand, nobody would ever humiliate her again. Poison, a sweet poisoned sleep, finally being able to sleep, finally some peace of mind, her body would look proud and beautiful when she was found.

But in all these thoughts, there was this glimmer, that small flame in her guts between all the pain that told her something was wrong, there was something she had not considered, with all the logic leading to only this one, final conclusion, there was also her instinct warning her, again and again, that there was an oversight.

Today she would bath in the cold water of Corm Orp's river, under the waterfall, treat her wounds and her wounded soul and go on a final mission.

One last time the night would be her friend. She had sneaked into the Cloakwood, seen by no one on the long way down here. It would be a long night, maybe somebody would watch her, maybe she would be alone only with the natural inhabitants of the forest. She brought a bag with her, it was heavy on her shoulder but her mood was light and her back straight. Nobody could hurt her tonight.
With the tar she had brought she went from one tree to the next, she spent hours finding every one of them she had marked before, and she would paint the carvings over one by one, because she was not on the search anymore.

Finally, she arrived at the place of their meeting. A large rock near the river marked the place where the person that once was Eamy had beaten her in the face again and again, almost broke her nose, and Aniel had taken the punches and had told her she loved her, because she knew this was still her.

Nobody was here, no ambush, nothing. Was she watching? Had she come back, just out of curiosity?
Aniel couldn't tell, and she did not care. On this rock a new marking was placed. One she would understand. And her trained ranger eye would lead her to the small space under the rock, behind long grass and some bushes, where a passing stranger would not look. Or maybe she was standing behind her, watching curiously?

She would slip the fishing pole under the rock. The cured fish. The Bait. Then she took the drawing from between the pages of her leather bound book and studied it long under the moonlight. Her eyes filled with tears again, but a smile remained on her face because these were happy tears shed for happier times. She placed a heartfelt kiss on the elf on the right of the drawing, and with a small sob placed the picture under the rock behind the other things.

The search was over, Aniel had found her, there was nothing more she could do now. Laeria was right, Elves live a thousand years, she could wait. And she would wait, the rest of the night she would sit here and wait, and not worry but smile and be the happiest and most beautiful elf that was ever seen. And if she would not be here tonight, she would always know where to find her, in a quiet, peaceful place where one could always forget the harsh world for a short time of shared joy, happiness and a handful of fish.


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