Letter to Mom and Dad

(I've copied this letter to you mother and father into my journal lest this ever should get back to you and I do not)

 

Dear Mom and Dad,

I send you tidings from afar. I also send apologies. As great as our differences may have been, no parent deserves to parted with their child. I know that now. How, I know that now. I have grown quite a bit in the last few years that I have been gone; enouigh to know that Ellis was right and that this little red-headed girl could sometimes be a little hot headed and rash I assure you I am still the firebrand that you knew, but its is tempered by the maturity of experience (harrowing is crossed out but still barely readable if one took the time) and a taste of the world's challenges. I assure you that I am as "ok" as one can be given what lies before me and what I have devoted my life to.

Forever your little rosebush,

Sam

Pleas to the Avatar

I am writing in my journal what I just wrote on parchment and burned by candlelight.  For posterity's sake I may have want to look at it again.   Today was a most difficult day.

 

Dear Avatar,

You know I am not much of a praying girl. My form of devotion comes in the full-blooded celebration of the world's bounty and beauty. I know that all things have their time and place, that all things that begin must end and that the cycles continue ever on. I do not ask for that cycle to change nor can I understand great wisdom that turns those wheels of time but today one much too young parted. If there is any sacrfrice I can make that would see him again in this world let me bear it. I humbly implore that you spare him and that he once again live. I will pay the price you ask of me if you would grant me this.

And what of Daga? Do you have a song for Daga? He is a fine fellow though I cannot say why I trust him as I do having spent as little time together as we have. He is honorable and daring and exquisitely gifted when throwing a blade. I am comforted by his company.

your humble servant,

Samired

Scarlet's Words with the Professor

I just sent Scarlet to the Professor's door.  She has instructions to tell him some things in Goblin. If he will let her in.    She has also been instructed to speak in Goblin. . If Professor does not seem to understand she will speak in common.

 

Here is what I told her to say:

"Professor and Roz Eth, - Sam and I have been wondering. Has Lucien been acting a little strange lately? Usually Lucien has been a man of few words. His golden bow does the talking for him. My read of him is that his sense of humor is wry and clever and sparse. Of late however, his behavior is a little odd. His constant goading and derisions seem slightly out of character to me. Am I crazy? Am I being an overly sensitive elven girl? I am trying to pinpont when first this started or if I am imagining things?

 

Much of the last few days I have spent away from the party and Lucien too parted company for a while. Is it possible that something be unduly influencing his mind and behavior? I have not spoken to anyone but you about this as I do not want to unfairly and prematurely indict my companion and friend.

Your friends and admirers in the arcane,

Sam and Scarlet

Festival Song

I composed this but it is for my notebook alone for surely while it may have reflected my thoughts at an earlier moment in time there is now a bitterness that chokes these frivolities.


Carnivals, festivals --  such joy in the air
great  smells, peoples laughs, happiness everywhere

T'is lovely that the simple can afford us such pleasures
Even though perhaps plain it offers joy in great great measures

Wheteher bobbing for apples or baking blackberry pies
you can catch the warm glint in everyone's eyes

Smiles all around, dancing, tumbling song
Moments like these you know deeply naught's wrong

Little one scampering under the skirt of her mother
Older one clasping the hand of her brother

Kids with long sticks eager to fight
Galloping along like born a brave knight

For these travelers in search of common kin
The Edge a fresh start a place to begin

We celebrate each other and toast to harvest
And we so with cheer and we do so with zest.

Binden's Song

Tis a Symphony for Binden a boy of heart true
whose dreams were cut short, whose years never grew
cut down by skeleton shards when up they blew
my heart mourns so deeply for this son that I knew

He was golden of heart, just of recent employed
His radiant eyes filled wondrous, overjoyed
He sparkled like sunshine our demeanor he buoyed
He dreamed of great deeds now gone and destroyed

He was my friend I admired his spirit
with energy and determination that just would not quit
That he's gone from this world I cannot believe it
Where his friendship was there's now just a pit

The anger within like a beast in a cage
though my countenance sweet I am filled with a rage
And when we come upon that traitorous mage
With a fury unseen I shall engage

May my hand strike with such severe blows
that as creature reaps so shall it sows
For now it is he who is chief among all my foes
my enmity towards him oh how it grows

For now dear Sam, calm self let your strike be  spring
coiled up in wait unleashed justice to bring.
For the moment enough. Of Binden we'll sing
Of his courage and heart and kind giving

Again of the boy who dreamed of aught but brave deed
Being gallant and valiant and riding bold steed
towards danger to rescue those in dire need
Be he remembered Binden the Brave thusforth decreed.

Potential alternative last line note:  I wonder what Sveta would say choose:
Be Binden rembered and honored for this I do plead.

A Quick Correspondence with Ot

I am thankful for a place to record my thoughts and perspectives.  Ellis your idea to start a journal at whatever age I began writing was a brilliant one.  I am now even capturing letters and other thoughts to friends in my life, thus this correspondence with my friend Ot.

 

Dear Ot,

I was not sure how to put this and writing is often a good way for me to organize my thoughts so lo and behold, here you have this letter. You are a good friend. I enjoyed your companionship during our arduous journey from Callanar to the Edge. We certainly shared some adventures together. I could always count on your optimism and kind spirit to uplift the caravan and me too (even if you never did take to wake up calls)

I know that your personal philosophy revolves around not harming and in a deeply rooted pacifism. It is admirable and I certainly share in your desire to do no harm and to do good. It is the reason I have been a vegetarian since my dear friend Ellis left and I hope that it still undergirds my actions generally. Personally, I am coming to understand however, that while all can ultimately be redeemed sometimes beings are not ready for it at that moment. And if those creatures would do harm to others where does one’s responsibility lie? It is commendable to stick to a principle of pacifism and I do not doubt for a moment your willingness and courage to sacrifice yourself for the good of others. Last night at the Inn was proof again of that quality. However, when confronted with an evil that at least at that moment is hell bent on burying the good in you and your friends and perhaps evem has larger schemes for destruction , could it not be a greater good to put that evil to rest? Could not the greater sacrifice actually be to do what might be needed?

We cannot live without harming. This is not to condone mass destruction nor is it to support idly sitting by afraid of living but it is to recognize the balanced qualities of life itself. My friend Sveta once told me this gypsy fable.

A long time ago a gypsy band roamed the land. One young man who belonged to the tribe was incredibly gifted with magic. His talent was recognized among many tribes. He also greatly desired to do right by his tribe and was very pious in the gypsy ways. So when because of his talent he was appointed to guard the caravan at night he took the position. It was a dangerous job for that is when the bandit raids would happen. After a few nights he said he could do this no more. He felt guilty for his talent. If life was so precious how could he be in a position where he might have to take it. He was afraid of doing harm. One of the elder dancers told him he needed to see their leader the gypsy queen matriarch. He went. When he arrived to her tent she told him to take off his shoes and sit down. They spoke for a while. He felt very at home and very comfortable with her. Finally he said “Does it not say among the gypsy ways that we should not harm. To which she responded “Yes it does” Then how is it right that I may have to harm. How is that right ? I wish that I never had these powers. I am in conflict with the most important of our ways. “Dear child she said with great sympathy and a mysterious gleam in her eyes who says those powers are yours to begin with? Did the lightning ask for its part starting the forest fires by which anew the forest may grow? Did the mighty oak appoint it’s time to fall and in its place nourish seedlings? Does the gale regret its force that sets ships sailing to distant shores or sometimes crashing to ocean depths, or the earthquake its rumbling when it topples cities and moves mountains?. Life and death are beyond simple comprehension. These are your powers. In the end,do what is true to you. I say who better to guard the camp than someone who knows both his own power and the preciousness of life. With that she sat silently and they sipped tea together for a little while longer. Finally she dismissed him but he was changed. The guard became one of the most famous in gypsy lore.

Sorry Ot, did not mean to come across preachy. Sveta my dear friend told it to me, so I love retelling it. I guess my rambling point though, is that you have a good heart, you don’t take this lightly. We are your friends too and when we are in danger we need you. We need everything you can bring to an encounter not just your silver tongue. It is clear that our journeys are going to bring us to some dark places and you may be like the gypsy in the camp. Let me know what you are thinking. Goodness knows I love a good philosophical discussion.

Your dear friend

Samired

 

 

Samaired,

I am not one for philosophical discussions. I actually find philosophy to be either hard to understand, or purely theoretical.

I don't think it is fair to say that I am not much help in an encounter.

God knows that I have healed members of the party several times and on one occasion brought relief to one who was close to death.

I did help kill some of the tentacled beasts at the bridge, as well as some of the thieves at the carnival, as well as some of the sturges.

At the inn, if Lucian had taken the wand away from the minion (as I asked him to), that minion would not have had a weapon to fight with, and the combat most likely would have stopped.

Also, there may have not been a need to fight the dragon. After all WE ENTERED HIS HOME. I think that anyone would defend itself against an intruder.

Okay, I admit that the encounter at the tower did not go as planned. I just thought that maybe the tentacled beast would have preferred eating the meat from the pie instead of eating us, since he does not have to kill it first. After all, it conveyed a feeling that it was hungry.

I understand the group's point of view, that I should be doing more killing and less "Mahatma Ghandi" stuff. If I am cornered, I will defend myself, and the group. After all I did wrestle the minion to the floor in the inn, after all.

However, in my view, there isn't really "evil", just people who are unhappy, preturbed, angry, miserable, etc. who take it out on others. I personally try to find a creative solution, before resorting to force. Thinking on one's feet. That I feel is a better adventure, than just straight combat.

Ot

_________________________________

'The struggle between good and evil / is the primal disease of the mind,

 

 

Dear Ot,

 

I am sorry. I greatly apologize Ot. It seems I have upset you which was not at all my intent. You are among my best friends. I did not by ANY stretch mean to imply that you have not been helpful. By Corellon' grace that would be a falsehood of tremendous magnitude. You have been exceptionally helpful. You have healed me, and others counteless times, your idea to retreat to the cave when we encountered the Direwolves probably saved Litsvo and perhaps the whole party, And their are myriad other examples. I suppose I wish to say that I do not want to see you hurt or killed as the bottom line. YOU ARE MY FRIEND, my very dear friend. and I care deeply about you. I have come to appreciate your kind and wide heart. You do not need to justify to me your bravery or helpfulness I do not need to be convinced.

It's simplty that when I walked in your room at the inn though I was horrified and irate that something would dare to hurt my dear friend. Frankly I was livid. It is true that I can occassionally be a little hot headed, Ellis always warned me about that but it is always because I am very protective of the people whom I care about. My first thought was who would dare hurt my dear friend and kind soul Ot. ((After I tried to figure out which one was really you) And I agree with you about the dragon - mark my words that our actions that day could haunt us and others later. I did not wish to keep a momento of that victory. Varg was a little rash. I absolutely think we could have tried talking more but once the fight was on we were committed.

What tentacled beast do you speak of? And when?

And lastly I am not expressing the group's concern. I only express my own. I only wish to see you live and long an fulfilled life and worry about the prospect of it getting cut short unnecessarily. These are your decisions I will try my best to stand with you. You always have my friendship.

With great admiration and fondness,

Sam

 

Ot vs Ot: The Sinister Within

I'm scribbling this down before going downstairs and into town for the day.  Last night Ot was visited by a very strange and dark creature.  I awoke to blasts and tumbling next door and found Ot battling himself. One Ot dressed as a cleric his current vocation, wrestled with the another Ot dressed asa warlock.  Cleric Ot was nearly dead.  Uttering "Lytheria Nyralim", the majestic words of the old elven tongue which roughly translate to draw sustenance like the trees roots from the earth (and recently I have learned that it also suggests that in drawing strength from the trees and their cycle with the earth one moves like the leaves with those cycles.) Lucien was letting Ot wrestle with his own demons for surely in the end Ot's path must be of his own choosing.  Seeing my friend nearly decimated, with my arcane elven uttterances I also pulled him from the room to safety.- whether he liked it or not.  I then blasted the abyssal creature in a thunderous shout of triumph.  Lucien then loosed a few arrows into the creature but not until Ot once again tried to reason with the wild-eyed irrational beast that it transformed to before it dissapated.   I must have a hear to heart with Ot.  He is a friend. I understand his desire not to harm but I do not want to see him harmed.