Prelude

Maglor pauses in his journey. He strokes his chin, pondering...then, at length, he cries out to the skies overhead:

Woeful world, wilt thou never see fit to hold Maglor, thy loving child, to thy healing bosom?
Will there never be a time when thou present to him a clear and sure path upon which he may tread?
It would seem not...
For Maglor's heart doth yearn for his new-found friends,
For his mighty general, Spag
And for gentle Kyiliana, fleeting sprite in forest shadow
And clever Vren, and young, Grimbergen,
And even for dour Grish,
And mostly for Polradia...
For ruby-lipped, stormy Polradia,
With dark past, like stormy seas
Upon which all were cast,
Helpless, like children.

And, this Maglor knows full-well:
That though he love she who came before
And ever will
Yet no less is his love for Polradia

And though Maglor will ever remember his kinship and blood
Yet, no less, is the kinship formed with those who have shared his bondage!
Friends! Forsake not your foolish rhymster!
I hie back to your sides!
The madness of love will ever be my folly
And, so, let it be the same madness that returns me to your warlike company!
'Til death (or love) do us part!

Wishing

Pol made a single camp ready for the night, pitched a fair distance from the small country inn and store along the dirt road. The sun was lowering to the west, the end of a long, hot day, and already the cicadas had started their evening song.

Tonight she would be by herself. Polradia frowned a bit as she thought about it, and of how she had been walking around the inn that morning while the others talked to the lady who owned the place. All of a sudden, she was attacked by a rogue upstairs, one of better skills and better armed than she was. Caught off guard, he quickly killed her.

Still angry about it, Pol refused to have anything to do with the lady or her inn. She fell to wondering how it was that "things" just seemed to happen to her, even when she was...well, just really doing nothing. Take that fellow earlier that morning for instance. Pol frowned again as she thought of it. They had been walking along, when they came upon a fisherman. Pol, ever able to blend with the shadows had, just by way of a joking mind, snuck up on him and yelled "boo!"

And sure enough she had surprised him. But the smile at her joke had soon faded as the man attacked the party and they had to kill him. At first Pol had felt bad, thinking it was all her fault, but oddly it was not her he had attacked but ...Spag Hetti.

Meanwhile, another fellow had come staggering out of the forest, and pretty much died right in front of them from a poisoned arrow. Before he died he got their promise to seek out his mother farther north on the road. And dutifully they had set out, soon running across an adolescent boy outside an inn. The boy, a bit mentally slow, had been so frightened. They were able to calm the boy enough so as to find out his mom was inside.

Chewing her lower lip, Pol remember how frightened the lady had been of Spag. Not any of the others, just Spag. It had turned out there was a gang of orcs lead by a half-orc holed up in the woods, which explained a lot in Pol's mind. They had cleared out the orcs in no time, but, frowning again, they had not caught the leader. To most she was sure one half-orc looked the same as another half orc and Spag had been mistaken for this outlaw twice now. After talking to Spag about it they had decided it was best to buy him a helmet.

Ahh to hell with it now, she thought, watching the night deepen. She heard a rustle in the bushes, and though she reached for her bow, Pol was not overly concerned as they had cleared the woods of all predators (Mag's feelings about badgers notwithstanding)and orcs. The lady's son had came over, and smiling, Pol motioned him to sit next to her.

She let him play with her bow a bit, trying to teach him some basics, and then gave him one of the dulled down short swords she had found off one of the orcs, plus a scabbard for it. She quickly gave him some quick lessons on safely using it, and knowing his mom would be worried, she took him back to the inn. As she left him there at the door, she could smell the home cooked food and the others talking, joking, and unwinding after the busy day. Her stomach let out a loud growl in response. Hahaaa no way was she going to have anything to do with that lady. After making sure the boy was inside, she made her way back to her campfire.

As she sat there watching the stars come out, Pol though of T.A.'s joke and grinned. Vren and his new spells! He had made T.A. invisible and T.A. had come up behind her, nibbling at her ears and neck. Startled at first, but thoroughly enjoying the sensation, Polradia had settled back into his arms. He wrapped them around her waist, somehow she felt not only delight, but safe as well, nestled in his arms.

Just briefly, she was able to forget Maglor was gone, caught up in the warm feelings of the moment. She had been surprised at how jealous she had become when T.A. had paid Kyil a compliment and had stated he wished Pol was more like Kyil. Pol rolled her eyes, upset at the thought, and realized how silly she had been. But at that moment she had been hurt and miffed by the remark.

She stared long and hard at the star lit sky trying to sort out Kyil, her, and T.A. Damn it all, anyway, life just cannot be simple, she thought. She liked T.A., really liked T.A., strongly liked T.A. He reminded her so much of Rigel...T.A. was tender, calm and steady, and...as her mind thought about Mag...damn it T.A. was dependable. His sweet disposition was matched by his even sweeter good looks. The honey blond hair and those blue, blue eyes...and when he had wrapped his arms around her...his muscular lean body pressed next to hers...she sighed.

Right before the others had headed into the inn for the night, she and T.A. had stood there talking, and she had just started telling him how much he reminded her of a man she had seriously fallen for -- Rigel. She was just starting to admit her feelings, when, they had heard a rustle, and she spied Kyil. Putting aside her conversation, she beckoned Kyil over, but the young elf had gone dashing off in the other direction. Looking at her back as Kyil ran off, Pol grimaced in frustration. Kyil had feelings for T.A., she really liked him.

Confused and angry with herself for not seeing the obvious before now, Pol paused, her thoughts a confused whirl. If she had know sooner, Pol would never have started in with T.A. The problem was now she was becoming attracted to him emotionally, and darn it, she did not want to give him up. Maglor was gone and never coming back, and even if Maglor did come back, who could ever say how that would go with the damn inconstant bard. It would be a long time before Pol let him get close to her again, but hell, she was not even stupid enough to think he would ever come back, really. He had run off to find his one true love and that was that. All his professed love for her had been mere words, easily said, and just as easily he had tossed Pol aside.

Her anxiety rose to an unbearable intensity, and anger, at the feelings, at herself, and at the conflict within herself. Pol, whom just a moment ago had been so tender with T.A., holding his hands, shoved him away.

"You know she loves you T.A., right? You know that right!? " T.A. looked at Pol dumbfounded, trying to figure that out. She shoved him in the direction Kyil had run off.

Thinking of her own messed up life and of how things just seemed to "happen" -- like getting killed upstairs in an inn, like yelling boo at a man and having him attack the group, like always stepping on the damn traps instead of disarming them, like always going the wrong direction or not finding secret doors, like...like ...having Maglor run off -- what damn possible use was she to anyone? How could she possibly in the least be good for anyone anyway. Whatever stupid thought was that? If she had been good enough in the first place, Maglor would not have run off, would he?

Now, she realized, her heart sad, probably no damn way was she any good for T.A. He would be much better off with Kyil...someone as sweet and innocent as himself, not someone hard like her, all hard edges, hard to get along with. Giving him one final hard shove in Kyil's direction, she yelled, "Yes damnit, she loves you, so go there, go and get out of here! All I am is a whore, and all I have ever been and will be is a whore, since age 12! Okay, Kyil is much the better person for you."

Pol stared into the fire, eyes tearing, but just as quickly she bit back the tears. Sighing, thinking about the splendid meal the others must be having and the company of each other in a lit up inn, Pol dug into her pack and brought out some food rations to quell the hunger. Then wrapping a blanket around her, she lay there, looking up at a shooting star cutting a swath across the sky, wishing there was someone to lie next to, wishing T.A. was playing his joke, using Vren's invisibility spell. "Well, wishin' ain't gettin', " she thought.

Small Steps

Kyilaliana stood a few steps back from the group as Spag prepared them to move out. He seemed more focused than ever before, perhaps motivated by this new threat: a half-orc that lead a band of orcs on raids into the sparsely-populated area which provided the party much needed rest. Spag barked out orders and conferred with Polradia about the specifics of what the group should do next.

What a difference a day had made. So empty she'd felt after the spider's nest, and any strength she'd had felt like it had left her. But by the fire that night, Pol had cradled her in her arms and they spoke in hushed tones about Kyilaliana's family and memories of home. She'd told Pol of her sister back home and the starry nights they'd watched as children. It was so strange, she thought, describing her past to Pol when she felt that Pol should be able to recollect it herself. So strong was the link Kyil had drawn between her sister and Pol that, in her heart, they were almost indistinguishable.

That brought her a high degree of comfort out here, in the middle of nowhere. Home was now as close as a kind word from Pol. Polradia had asked her, "Do you think your family would like me?" Kyil couldn't imagine her family without Pol in it. She'd fallen asleep, her head in Pol's lap as she tied ribbons in Kyil's hair.

The next day had seen to bring the party plenty of action and Kyilaliana had found her form, fear, and emptiness left far behind. The orcs had been soundly routed and they'd liberated a mother and her child from the clutches of a desperate rogue. She'd been on top of it all; tracking the orcs to their lair, letting arrows fly true into their enemies, suspecting all was not well in their host's home. The strength that flowed through her was a welcome change from fearing every shadow in every corner. For the first time since they'd awoke on the shore after the shipwreck, she felt like she belonged.

That night they'd rested and she'd gone looking for Pol.

Pol and T.A.

Kyil had almost forgotten how tangled the strands of emotions that ran between them all. Seeing them talking quietly together, alone, had reminded her how confused she felt watching the two people she loved take solace in one another. She'd felt like a silly child as she hid behind a tree, trying to listen to their conversation. Pol had seen her and called to her but Kyilaliana had ran for the cabin, embarrassed and her heart awash in a swell of feelings. She slept alone, her door locked.

Now the day was on them and Kyil had quieted her heart for the time being. She needed to talk to Polradia, needed that reassurance from the person that mattered most to her. She'd have to tell Pol, if she didn't know already, about her feelings for T.A. How would Pol take that? Would the woman she could call "sister", fight over the affections of the same man? It made Kyil feel a little sick, worried that she could lose the closeness between them.

And what of T.A.? Would he even be interested? Kyilaliana shook off these thoughts and checked her equipment. She remembered the words her father spoke to her when she'd left the village: "Your journey will take over mountains, across seas and through vast cities. But always remember that such a large journey requires you master small strides. Learn how to take those small steps and you will make your own path." Small steps, she told herself. Small steps.

The Journals of T.A. Grimbergen
Entry #3, 8/7/18792

I'm losing my mind and my humanity. I know I'm not the brightest of the pack, but I had always been able to keep my sanity and decency.

I thought the incident at the Ella's inn pulled out the deepest and darkest depths of my soul. But I was wrong. There are sides of me that I dare not even think about which rears its ugly self with more and more frequency. I'm beginning to truly think I was never meant for the holy order of Athena, and am cursed in this life as a wanderer.

Maglor's return should have brightened my outlook, but even his jovial self could not help me now. In fact, he's different now - I can't explain it, but he isn't the same cheerful spirit as before. He spoke not of his departure, which made the situation even worse.

It seems even Pol, who lamented his disappearance, gave him the cold shoulder and avoided joining the group as we filled Maglor in on the recent happenings. Even when he tried engage her, she refrained. The woman puzzles me - she seemed to miss him so much, but now treats him with utter contempt. And the way she pushed me away insinuated that Kyil had feelings for me!

Worst of all, I was afraid to approach her. For one, it's never safe to disturb one in such a mood. And more importantly, I didn't want Maglor to think I was taking advantage of the rift between them. Damn him! As much as I respect him as a friend, there are some sides of him I cannot tolerate.

When we departed Ella's inn, I thought I could put behind my shame. But it was not to be. Glimpses of my mentor, Father Sparreto, kept creeping up in my peripheral vision. I would turn to find him, but he would disappear quickly.

Anyhow, we soon caught a little goblin shouting inside a cave off the side of the hill. He didn't seem at all dangerous, so we approached and Maglor parlayed with him. This goblin shaman, Trysk, was in a bit of a bind. It seemed that his familiar, a bat, was not willing to leave the cave.

Kyilaliana volunteered to help out (he was seeking an "animal person"), and I was glad to see some confidence in her once again. She had once despaired about her inability to communicate with animals, a natural ranger ability. This time, she performed admirably to my delight.

I think Maglor had tried to get some reward for this, but I never found out, as I was distracted by images of Sparreto again. This time I was able to lock onto his presence and pursued him.

After a brief chase, I lost him in the foliage again. I turned to rejoin the others, and found Pol had separated from them as well. But it seemed she was also chasing someone that she saw. Strange. Anyhow, just as we were about to have some quiet time alone, our wonderful leader Maglor beckoned us.

We rejoined the others. They had spotted some giant ant-like creatures in the west, where we were headed, and any approach we took towards them, either on or off the road, would be in their field of view. We advanced cautiously, but there was no sneaking past them. They detected our presence, and rushed towards us as though we were invading their territory. We had no choice but to defend ourselves.

Their chitinous armor was tough to penetrate, but luckily, only two of these ant-like drones attacked us. Vren later discerned these giant insects to be formians, not normally from our plane. I sure hope not.

This is when things became a blur. Apparently Pol caught a hint of the man she was originally chasing - her Da -- again, she bolted off on her own once more.

Soon the everyone was chasing a visage of someone from their past. Finally, Father Sparreto approached me.

But, it was not what I expected. At first he said he had come to welcome me back to the temple of our goddess. I was overjoyed! However, as I questioned him further, he soon saw my own doubt and chided me. It went on longer than I can care to remember, and he rescinded his offer. My spirit was broken, and as I stooped in disgrace, he left.

When I finally gathered myself, I found Spag quarreling with a rather nasty looking fellow - he called him Gadush, -- and could sense the threat of violence. Suddenly, my orcish friend struck out with his axe, but instead of bleeding, Gadush turned into a horrendous apparition. I had no idea what to do. Luckily, this phantom was susceptible to physical attacks, and Spag banished it with his axe.

I then spotted Polradia talking to her father and joined them. It was puzzling - he should have been dead, as least by her accounts. Anyhow, before I could figure out what was going on, I noticed Spag now charging the man.

Without thinking, I tackled him before he reached Pol's Da. It was not easy wrestling the big guy to the ground, but I had taken him by surprise and held the advantage. Suddenly, Grish also pressed the attack on the man. Polradia attempted to stop him, but in vain.

To my surprise, Da turned out to be another one of the apparitions. Spag angrily pushed me aside as I realized my mistake. I was beginning to see the pattern... but I would yet make another act of folly.

Father Sparreto returned, and I begged for forgiveness. He seemed too real to be one of these phantoms that everyone else was experiencing. I could not get it out of my head that this was truly him.

But Spag would not hear what he had to say, and drew his axe. I could not believe he was yet again attacking an innocent man! The rage in me grew unbearable, and I charged at im with my fists. Since his attention was turned to Sparreto, I pummeled him without any retaliation.

The deed had been done, and I could take no recourse. As the apparition of Father Sparreto fell, so did my dear quarter-orc comrade. He showed more humanity than I ever did, and now he lay dead, bloodied by my barbaric and animalistic act.

The others stared at me in disgust, especially Kyilaliana. Inside, I felt even worse. Not only had I betrayed everyone, but Athena, my goddess herself. It was only now I realized how I was beguiled by these phantoms. I am damned with this ignorance!

Their attention quickly turned away from me and focused on our slain friend. Everyone, even Pol, prayed to their respective gods. I don't know if she truly believed her prayers would be heard, but her effort was sincere. I was willing to take my own life if it meant his revival.

Miraculously, it worked! The gods must favor us. Or, the fact that Grish is a very devout and pious man probably helps.

Spag awoke, and everyone greeted him with the elation as though he were a newborn. That was fine with me - the less attention they paid to me, the better.

It was a long day and Kyil started a nice fire for us. I was too scared of what she'd think of me, so I stayed by myself. I think the others could sense the tension as well. It was a quiet evening, and Vren relayed how he resisted the psychic attacks of the appartions in this wood when they appeared to him as his long dead wife. He had never spoken of her, and it brought upon a kind of sorrow I had never seen him display before. I guess the longevity of elven lifespan allows for putting the past behind, but the pains are never forgotten.

I didn't even realize I had fallen asleep until I was awakened by the clash of steel. The others and I rushed to see, and Spag was dealing the coup de grace to another half orc warrior. Apparently he had gone off by to spend some time alone, and encountered this thug who claimed to be his brother. Must be some just some orcish blood ties. We didn't push him further on it, as Spag already seemed a bit disturbed from the phantom he had to deal with the night before.

We eventually encountered a fork in the road which allowed passage north, or a continuation west. Out of curiosity, we ventured north. It was then we were detected someone running towards us in a fast stride. Soon we noticed a single man, armed, but he didn't seem to be charging us, just running in our direction.

Maglor flagged him down, and he consented to a chat. Berry Wilkinsbane was his name, and apparently he was carrying some important information he had gathered from the "evilest town of all" as he explained, the town of Citadel. I recall hearing the same description of this city from that dwarven cleric Genar. Anyhow, apparently the Council of the Citadel, the Skulls, had been chasing him.

Vren and Mag tried pressing him for possible explanations of the formians and phantoms we had witnessed. He didn't have a clue, and was just as disturbed as us.

As we tried to get more information, another swarm of formians snuck up to us and attacked. This horde was much larger than the previous, and we were forced to fight as they had surrounded us. Berry proved to be a good swordarm as well. We barely managed to fight them off, and Berry left to return to his duties.

We headed back to the fork, away from the thick forest, and continued in our westward original direction. Another day had passed, and we set up camp. And so I decided to journal these events.

One last thing I wanted to mention was the warm sight of Pol and Mag mending their relationship. She finally caved in to his constant pleas, and they sequestered themselves to have some quiet time alone. Simultaneously, Kyil asked me to speak with her. And I...I positioned myself shamefully in such a way so as to eavesdrop on Pol and Mag. I was still uncomfortable and confused about what Polradia had said about Kyil, so I didn't want to give off any wrong intentions. I kept my distance, and she seemed to sense it as well. She seemed so innocent, and after my deeds from the last few days, I could not face her without shame.

I noticed in the corner of my eye Maglor and Polradia kissing and embracing, and I was glad that Spag broke it up when he commanded everyone to join near the campfire so as to avoid the dangers of being separated in this dark forest of Drisk. As much as I was relieved in seeing Pol opening her heart to Mag again, a part of me does not want to let go of her.