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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Reralae
Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject:


If that's her reaction over spilt milk and a few tame words, I can't wait to see her reaction to what Aranwen will say.  just got to get there... 



Posted on 2019-11-01 at 09:19:37.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: Well


No harm in attempting to as far as I can imagine. Whether the attempt will be successful is another matter entirely! 



Posted on 2019-10-31 at 14:41:46.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: Same thought occurred to me


It's why Aranwen has a lit torch - she is suspicious of the green light so has supplied yellow light  



Posted on 2019-10-31 at 14:29:40.

Topic: Dreamsynthesis
Subject: Bump


Bumping because it's Halloween!


And my costume is in the post above  



Posted on 2019-10-31 at 11:14:06.

Topic: Reralae's Fragments of Cal'ele'miur
Subject: Fairy music


I tend to use this track for fairy music if I want to let my mind wander and imagine fae realms we cannot comprehend


Here's some tentative details I'm thinking of in regards to the fae, now that I've done as much as I already have within the Journal



  • The "fae realm" is not quite the right name to call that place - it is a blend of all of the realms of the various A'nia, each with a domain that they preside over

  • As noted, "A'nia" has no direct synonym, but loosely speaking corresponds to 'queen', 'dreamer' and even 'mother' in equal measure - this relates to how important the A'nia is to their domain. The domain is their dream, so to speak, a place they design and a place whose inhabitants are born by their thoughts and emotions

  • It should be noted that the key difference between a deity and an A'nia is that the A'nia cannot grant spells, nor can they indirectly influence places outside of their dreams, they gain nothing by worship, nor can they give anything to their worshippers from afar, and their dreams collectively make up the fae realm; they don't have their own true outer planes

  • Each domain can be vastly different from the next - you can have an A'nia of winter, an A'nia of summer, and really any other kind of possibility. This is a Wyld realm, where nothing can be taken for granted because no one dream dominates their reality

  • If I figure out more of their language, their world would have the name that translated to something like 'the realm of dreams'

  • This world is where the majority of the magic of Audalis has left to, resulting in a place with an excess of magic - feats otherwise impossible in Audalis are not impossible in the dreams, pending the imagination of the A'nia whose domain the feat is attempted in

  • The A'nia are not entirely disconnected from Audalis - the fairy rings are their way of investigating Audalis, sending lesser fae forth to learn of the world beyond their dreams, and perhaps to see if they might return to walk that land once more, or to learn how they might do so

  • The A'nia that guards the islands varies, but all are content with dreaming of water rather than land; the mist of that particular location indicates where the boundary between Audalis and their realm is weak

  • The fae creatures in the monster manual don't necessarily belong to a single A'nia - just as creativity is shared among works, these creatures are more common because they are in more dreams, known to the A'nia for their greater resilience to Audalis

  • Fae creatures in general cannot survive in Audalis for a prolonged period of time; they are magical creatures entering a world devoid of the magic in the environment, and they will deplete their magical essence by persisting

    • Certain fae creatures may work around that limitation by creating particular arrangements suitable for their longevity, usually on the 'other side' of highly reflective surfaces, such as high quality gems, lakes or mirrors, and by leeching life or magical energy of other beings

    • Whether a fae creature leaves a body or not in Audalis is best handled on the case by case; I'd rather not stifle the needs of any particular GM's story where fae are concerned



  • Similarly, an Audalian that consumes food (not necessarily water, but that's almost a splitting hairs level of detail) of the dreams gets imbued with magical essence, which turns foul and rotten if they leave the dreams and return to Audalis, typically resulting in death


I'm drawing heavily on inspiration where the fae are as beautiful as they can be terrible, benevolent or malevolent by their whim... these thoughts and ideas are subject to change before I write up a proper draft to put forward for the Audalis entries but this is what I have started with



Posted on 2019-10-30 at 01:04:45.
Edited on 2019-10-30 at 01:23:24 by Reralae

Topic: Reralae's Fragments of Cal'ele'miur
Subject: The Lost's Journal 11-14


Page 11


The script is very untidy Sylvari, as written by a shaking hand. At points it's nearly illegible.


Dear gods. I can never go back. Martin's dead. They keep calling me Windbell.


I need to pull myself together. I need to


If I could stop having my quill stolen while I'm writing that would be a good start. Fireblossom keeps trying to get my attention, by any means necessary. Snowbell has decided my head is comfortable to sit on and is amusing herself with trying to read what I'm writing. Lightbloom is watching me intently, I think with a worried expression, keeps suggesting I eat more. The way he's talking you'd think I was starved, but we only just ran out of food.


Why do I know their names? How can I understand them? How can they understand me?


I just, I can't.


Waterpetal arrived with a message. Someone they call Theanya(?) wants to see me. By their reactions, it's someone very important.


Dear gods, what is happening?


Page 12, 13 and 14


There are no quill markings on the page at all, only ink, generally neatly formed into Sylvari script, but there are clear splatters where emotion overrode the concentration to make formal text.


I can't believe this works. Decades without being able to cast a spell, but now, here, I write with neither tool nor ink. No wonder the sprites were so amused by my writing earlier. It's archaic to where it is completely foreign and unknown to them.


... Where do I even start trying to wrap my head around what has happened? I guess the beginning of when things went bad. We had tried to spread out our food intake as much as we could, make it last. Then we arrived here, in A'nia Starflower's domain.


Windbell's home.


The sprites came to us. They seemed... very enthusiastic about seeing me. Martin, not so much, and he began to suspect me for leading us here. I could not blame him. We stopped here at my suggestion, and he couldn't understand the sprites even if I could, nor could he understand the words I directed at the sprites. He had every reason to be suspicious, and his hunger only added to his temper. I was only able to prevent complete hostilities by telling the sprites and Martin that he was my guest here, and explained he was hungry.


The sprites were confused at the problem, and told me to make some food, like it were the easiest thing to do, and were equally baffled at my confusion on how to do it. They seemed very concerned for me, worried about my health - and what they presumed to be memory loss. Concerned for Windbell anyway - they would not call me by any other name.


Somehow I managed to do it, and a bush sprouted bearing blooms of pastries I had been craving since departing the Sylvari kingdoms. Many of the sprites shared in the food, finding it delightfully foreign to them. I had one piece, and Martin had another. It was exactly as I remembered it, if not better, with a strange sense of nourishment that I cannot recall the like of.


With that done, I asked the sprites about returning him to Sylvari. They replied that was a more complicated matter, but a gate was actually possible right now, and once again gave me an expectant look. I tried, but nothing happened, and Lightbloom shook his head noting how frail I looked to them. Fireblossom opened a gate before our eyes, a sphere like a water droplet folding in on itself and bursting into a luminescant column that opened to somewhere in the Sylvari forest.


Far beyond done with this place, Martin went through with no hesitation. I was just about to follow him when I saw him double over on the other side in pain not four paces from the gate. I saw him collapse, twisting in agony as Fireblossom closed the gate. Seeing that happen to him, I just knew that the same thing would happen to me. I was panicked after that, and at some point Waterpetal had left to tell the A'nia about what had happened. I met with her in this building floating above the lake of mist, something between a castle and a cathedral, beautiful, but eerie. The front doors opened to a large central chamber, with a raised platform like a ballroom stage, columns and stairs to either side leading to places that aren't visible from the outside.


The A'nia... I've no idea how to translate the title. It's loosely somewhere between ruler, dreamer, and... mother?


Like the others, she called me Windbell as well, but where the sprites are creatures no larger than a Cidal, she was taller than me. She seemed serene, floating in place with beautiful wings providing contrast to the stained glass behind her. She welcomeed me back to her domain, her flower field, and expressed her hope that the other sprites, my siblings, were not overbearing with me. With gentle smile she suggested I take some time to myself to rest and recover, directing me to take one of the stairs. I thanked her as I expected I should, and she smiled as I ascended the stairs. I found this bedroom waiting for me. Everything is the right size for me, despite no one else here seeming to be my size.


It looks a bit like my old bedroom. I try not to think about that.


If I think too much, I think that, somehow, it felt as though her smile wasn't entirely gentle. There seemed a hint of cold to it. Maybe it just my nerves meeting such an important being here in a realm... a realm that doesn't seem to have rules, but has rulers nonetheless. And if I think too much...


I think... I think she knows what happened to Windbell.


I'm trying not to think about it.



Posted on 2019-10-29 at 19:38:27.

Topic: Kith, the Cat, and the Khatun Q&A
Subject: Mushrooms, you say


Mayhaps Kithran found some... light reading beside those mushrooms


I jest


That is something I saw as well with regards to devotees of Falloes. They are given a vague sense of where they are needed. If I recall, I was considering a Paladin of Falloes at some time a while ago. I normally avoid paladins, the class doesn't resonate with me, and there's no lack of examples of poorly done characters which makes it daunting to try to do a paladin right, but a paladin of Falloes is one I believe I could do properly.


No matter how things end in HC, I've a good mind of how to incorporate that ending in what may happen here, so I can offer suggestions on that if the need arises


It seems our small Cidal has been attracted to the glint of gold - by which I mean Aranwen's eyes. I am really happy that my mental image of her gave her such noteworthy eyes, which paint a very sharp contrast with her unkept and haphazardly cut oaken hair



Posted on 2019-10-29 at 13:43:00.

Topic: Reralae's Fragments of Cal'ele'miur
Subject: The Lost's Journal 10


Page 10


The script is in Sylvan with an informal hand, almost with distracted mind with some strokes longer than others, and a few spilled dots of ink.


This place... I could have sworn I heard my name just before we came here
How is it possible for a place I've never been before feel like home?
And yet, this place, a wide open field of flowers with a shining silver cathedral suspended over a misty lake in the distance...
No matter how many times I look at it, it's so familiar, somehow, and I can't make any sense out of this feeling
Keeping a hold of this feeling anyway... I might as well... it's like a sense of belonging, finally finding some, vague sliver of certainty in this chaos of a world


Yet, even as I express having this feeling to him, Martin says he doesn't feel the same way
Of course, I shouldn't expect him to, and we've still our lack of food to worry about
Until we find a proper path back, maybe we'll be able to better understand 'here' by not roaming around so much...


Worried about what to do from here... it's impossible not to be
I've wracked my mind around these domains for as long as we've been traversing them
No pattern to be found, no entrances or exits, just places and unseen paths between
Domains of creatures, realms, so wild and chaotic, it feels like some kind of a dream
But I doubt we've ever seen any of these places in any of our dreams in Audalis
Even though I certainly can't remember every dream I've had, and neither can Martin
Like a puzzle with the pieces thrown out in a storm, how am I supposed to make sense of this?
Looking ever on, and on, searching for a way back that we can't see



Posted on 2019-10-29 at 00:27:23.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: He's probably...


Just some poor teenager that fell in with the wrong crowd, but cults are supposed to be cool, and it's far too late to back out now so he has his yearly subscription to dead4lyfe magazine and has a small friend group in the crowd... they just hang out on level two and keep their hoods down so they don't get volunteered for icky duties like actual work, probably with some Audalian herb they smoke for relaxation and entertainment, outsourced from the weed cult in Coria because you just know there is one there lining their pockets with gp. What the heck is he supposed to do with actual invaders, that doesn't happen except in bard tales!



Dear me, my mind can sometimes race off with the smallest of hooks into a far more detailed scene, silly or otherwise... it can be a bit overwhelming



Posted on 2019-10-28 at 22:59:07.
Edited on 2019-10-28 at 23:04:16 by Reralae

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: Whereas on my side


I have three Aranwen in my head - one in the past with our precursor story, one in the present storming the fortress, and one in the future where she is in a position to talk to Davena directly...


There are answers she wants, answers that I have no doubt she does not want to hear, but answers she desires nonetheless.


To the Aranwen of that future, this is all feeling too familiar, and she would rather not retrace the same steps she's taken before.



Posted on 2019-10-28 at 22:21:28.

Topic: The Corruption Hidden Beneath the Surface...
Subject: A hunch


Aranwen nodded with satisfaction seeing the zombies shambling away. She placed a hand on Cedric's shoulder, "You see?" She offered softly to his ear, giving a gentle smile, "Do not doubt your worth; that you can call on Solanis' blessing and radiance is no small feat, and it takes a strong connection to bring such miracles forth. You can do this; you already have."


She looked forward, towards the western passage, then the northern.


"I may not know the details of this place," Aranwen mused as she recalled, "But in any fortified location there necessitates passages to bypass other defenses and dangers that would otherwise slow an attacker, while letting a defender retreat. Does this match your memory as well, Gib?" She asked.


((Presuming the affirmative))


Aranwen nodded, "I suspect our robed adversary made good a retreat by one such passage, with the hope that a gate would suffice to force us down the other," she continued, before giving a smirk to Ch'dau, "Shall we prove them wrong, dear friend?"



Posted on 2019-10-28 at 22:06:25.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: Hmm


How did the lifting capacities go in 2e?



Posted on 2019-10-28 at 21:19:30.

Topic: Reralae's Fragments of Cal'ele'miur
Subject: The Lost's Journal 8-9


Page 8 and 9


The writing is more relaxed, Sylvari script without the extra effort put in to make it look formal.


It's strange. Just before arriving here I'd have given anything to no longer be called. To have a reflection again. To return to some sense of normality in my life. But now that my name isn't being called, I feel even more uncertain than ever. Especially in this place.


A place where we cast no shadows, a place where you can fall into the sky and land in a bed of flowers larger than trees, or take a turn and find yourself in the middle of an underwater savana and still be able to breathe. There's no sense of direction to be found here. One place blends with the next without reason or transition. There are no steps or paths to retrace to find where we were.


This is a place where shadows are spirits that fly into the sky as balls of black, battling balls of light until the sky is painted black as a starless night, before the bubbles of white take their positions as stars, or descend to the ground and make plants glow. Then the white returns to the sky some time later. Sometimes the black doesn't win. There's no guarantee what happens.


I wonder why we haven't been noticed. Or are we so faint in our presence that we are as insects are to us, beyond their threshold of notice?


It rains with or without clouds. Thunder is accompanied by splashes of light and colour instead of lightning. In a few select arcane tomes I had read of the positing that there are worlds comprised of a single element. Could this be a world comprised of chaos?


Doesn't matter much. Finding a way back seems more and more impossible. Much less finding one in time. We will run out of food soon. Turns out survival training does not help survive a wilderness you were not trained to be in.


But what manner of training would even help you survive this place?


Flora that looks familiar is almost assuredly not. Fauna may look familiar at a glance but are often creatures of a loose form. What may look like a bird one moment may unfurl butterfly wings and fly in a burst of shadows. A stag may look normal until you realize that it has a face like a human. And in all of them, you can see in their eyes an intellect far beyond those of common fauna. 


Martin once suggested hunting, but I had to point out the truth - even if I could slay one of these creatures, would it even be edible? We just don't know, and I would sooner avoid drawing attention to us here. In this place where we are as insects to beings I cannot fathom despite my knowledge of nature. At least, of the nature back home. We'd best not see ourselves get stepped underfoot.



Posted on 2019-10-28 at 16:34:36.

Topic: Reralae's Fragments of Cal'ele'miur
Subject: The Lost's Journal 4-7


Page 4


This page also has several crossed out words and sentences at the beginning.


The past six years have generally been one misfortune after another. Untangling the mess of what She had done with my face took the better effort of those six years. At one point I had considered taking on a new name, a new identity, but the thought felt anathema to me. Wrong. To give it up at that point would be truly to relinquish that name to Her. Or so I felt. She may have died, but I wasn't willing to let Her win.


I was not going to let Her replace me.


That was the one thing that kept me going. But ever since that fateful day, I could hear it... I am being called. A whisper beyond the edge of hearing, calling my name. Most audible on windy nights, trailing behind the echoes of the wind outside. Calling me.


Sometimes I find myself wandering in some direction it may be from without thinking.


Am I going mad?


No one else can hear the whispers. Only me. Perhaps that's why they're sending me off, allocating me to a journey to misty islands to the northeast. Get my senses readjusted, tuned once again to the land, the forest, and in this case the sea. My sense of direction isn't dulled at least - I know my training, and I can read wind, skies, and stars.


We depart tomorrow.


Page 5 and 6


Most of these pages are too damaged by water spray to make out what is written here. There is one drawing of what is presumably a man, a form shrouded in kelp and water.


Page 7


The writing is with a shaking hand, tarnishing the otherwise elegant Sylvari script with sudden jerks.


Somehow we survived. And we're here, wherever 'here' is. The sky is bright. We're on a grassy plain that spreads as far as the eye can see. Weather is clear sun. If there were a sun. I keep looking for it in the sky, following the shadows backwards to where it should be. It isn't there. I can't guess what direction is what.


Martin is in worse shape than me. In shock, I presume. He's sitting next to the wood crate that ended up with us, rocking in place like a scared child. I've half a mind to join him. We didn't even expect to land with the ship in the state it was in, much less end up here.


Not even sure where the shipwreck is or where we came from. Crate has food in it, so we won't starve at least. Best I can gather, if we follow where the shadows point to, or where they come from, we'll be bound to find something. Martin doesn't have any ideas.


We still can't wrap our heads around it. One moment we're on the water, clinging to a wreck of a hull being thrown in the air like some garbage being discarded without a thought. Then we're on the ground. Here.


I've half a mind to wonder if we've passed beyond death, but this isn't Adaron's forest. There's no trees. Just a grassy plain, no sun, and a cool refreshing breeze.


The breeze makes a melody in the grass, as though the grass blades were chimes playing in sequence. I don't know how that is possible, but it's faint. Martin can hear it too. A three beat rhythm, of some sort. Too faint to make out properly. It's the right sort of rhythm that desires dance to accompany it. Yet for what we both hear, there's something I don't.


I don't hear my name any more.



Posted on 2019-10-28 at 00:13:06.
Edited on 2019-10-28 at 00:13:26 by Reralae

Topic: Kith, the Cat, and the Khatun Q&A
Subject: I can just imagine


Kithran 'she has an ulterior motive I just know it'


'her ulterior motive is to help people'


Kithran 'she can't be that simple, there's got to be more to it'


In some ways the well-meaning are the most suspicious



Posted on 2019-10-27 at 13:27:03.

Topic: The Adventures of Kith, the Cat, and the Khatun
Subject: Armour piercing question


“I should have perhaps brought this up earlier, but before I rely on you, I have to ask, where do your loyalties lie, Bladesinger? Not just for this task, but overall? Mine are to my well-being and to finish my jobs. Ch’dau is relentlessly devoted to me, which I cannot help but have come to accept, but Sylvari . . . well, you are a very loyal lot in my experience, sometimes to a point at which I am very uncomfortable with, so I would like to know where yours lie before we proceed.”


"My... Loyalties?"


For the first time in present company, Aranwen truly faltered, the smile fading from her lips and left slightly agape as her brow furrowed ever so slightly in confusion, unable to keep the uncertainty from her eyes. Were it thirty years past, she'd be able to answer such a question with ease and without hesitation. Now though, here in this wine cellar, alone among companions, she looked almost lost.


Then she shrugged her shoulders, offering an apologetic smile for the delay, "All bladesingers are trained to work with the other groups that uphold law in Sylvari, so by nature of that upbringing we hold loyalty to the well being of all Sylvari, and the Crown."


Though, presently I'm on leave, Aranwen noted to herself. 


"I do not know how much you know of bladesingers, but there is something else as well, loosely unique to each of us," she offered, "Oaths we take when we complete our training, which we adhere to from then on. Mine is to care for well-meaning folk, to look to their well-being beyond the present where I can. Perhaps naive to your ears and experiences, I'll admit. But, as you called it earlier, this can be a dismal plane to be on, and I'd be glad for making it less so for those people that generally don't wish ill on others."


"Does that answer your question?" Aranwen asked. 



Posted on 2019-10-27 at 09:49:31.

Topic: Kith, the Cat, and the Khatun Q&A
Subject: Looking back at Aranwen's speech


She really is quite good with avoiding what she doesn't want to talk about, primarily by redirecting conversation... guess those points in ettiquette do have some tangible benefit



Posted on 2019-10-27 at 00:25:40.

Topic: The Adventures of Kith, the Cat, and the Khatun
Subject: Into the City Once More


Aranwen smiled as she watched Kithran and Ch'dau eat, only taking a small portion for herself after she saw their hands slower to pick up more. Her smile only widened on hearing the gentle rumbling of Ch'dau's satisfaction in his throat. It was a lovely sound, one she wanted to hear him express again. After what he had gone through, she hoped he found more and better respite sooner than later. 


Aranwen gave a nod to Kithran at mention of the apothecary, "It isn't much, but I do have enough that I think I will be able to stock what we need from this apothecary," She offered a gentle smile. 


“Hmm, specifically a mask, I have not seen. There is a storefront here with some different odds and ends. I don’t know if it is an antique shop exactly, but I can point it out to you if you’d like. Preparing for a party, are we?”


Aranwen's sigh escaped her lips before she could hold it, her eyes a bit distant, just briefly, before she refocused on the present and the two in front of her, once more giving a warm smile, "No, I can't say that I am. Perhaps a souvenir ere I return to Sylvari when we are finished here."


It was not hard to see through her words. But before she let herself be cornered by a question, she nodded once more, "But that can wait until later, we should consider what is in front of us first." 


 “Alright, well as I mentioned, I can take you there if you’re interested.” She looked down at bits of food leftover between the three of them, ”I believe I am ready to go, whenever you lot feel up for it,” she only winced a little this time as she hopped up to her feet, and made her way toward the door, “We can go in whichever order you like. Just,” she looks at Ch’dau and smirks, “try to be as inconspicuous as possible.”


"Indeed," Aranwen observed, "Were I a holder of a keep in this particular city, I'd make certain to have eyes in the city itself that I might know of events beyond my gates. And if her eyes are looking for you two, well, we best be cautious. Kithran, you can wear my cloak. The black should serve to obscure your appearance to an extent. Let's be on the streets as little as we can."


Just like the forests, never be in the open too often or too long if you are trying to be unseen. It made sense to apply that general tactic here in the city. 


"If we are followed, what would you suggest we do, Kithran? I expect you have more practical experience with that than myself," Aranwen asked. 


((Kithran's suggestions )) 


"Ideally we won't be put in a situation where we will need to employ countermeasures, but it be best to have something planned in advance, just in case," Aranwen mused


"Now then, let's get you two a real meal," Her warm smile broke into a gentle laugh, as she retrieved her sword and sheath from its position as improvised door bar and fastened it back to her hip. 



Posted on 2019-10-26 at 14:15:52.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: Better not to ask


If we don't know the clock, then we can't be complacent about time we do or do not have  


Aranwen will put forth the suggestion that she, Ch'dau, and Garn push out so that the three of them are in the room beyond the hall proper, just past the door


Provided the zombies fall easily enough, that lets them potentially clear 3 at a time as opposed to 1. Gib and/or Cedric in the hallway can then support all three. 


Certainly a lot riskier, with up to three zombies potentially threatening a single melee fighter, but to clear this group faster may be worth the risk, 



Posted on 2019-10-26 at 12:56:24.

Topic: The Corruption Hidden Beneath the Surface...
Subject: Time


From her placement at the back of the group, Aranwen watched, her fingers clenched white around the hilt of her blade. She watched the zombies enter the hall, only to be cut down by Ch'dau and Gib's efforts, before more took their place. While it suited them to continue this at minimum risk to themselves, Aranwen could only see it as a delaying tactic. 


"There's naught to be gained by staying on the back foot," Aranwen called forward, "We need to make an opening, that we can together take more of them out by our combined efforts!" 



Posted on 2019-10-26 at 12:42:40.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: Hmm


That's certainly an interesting read  


I can feel a lot of emotions from Aranwen... And I'm dearly looking forward to proving Davena wrong - there's nothing for it but to continue pressing through



Posted on 2019-10-26 at 12:32:13.

Topic: Reralae's Fragments of Cal'ele'miur
Subject: The Lost's Journal 2-3


Page 2


The start of this page is cluttered with crossed out words.


Where do I even begin to explain? After that day, I felt hunger more keenly and more often. Strange things would happen around me, often in my room. Things being moved wihout my knowing. Sometimes I'd return to find it tidied in my absence. Sometimes I'd find it cluttered, clothing pulled from my wardrobe, my books and papers thrown all over the floor in disarray, or opened to some page upside down by the mirror on my desk. At night, I'd find myself recounting events of the day aloud in that light daze just before sleep. If I could even remember the moments before I slept, that is.


At one point, at the edge of their patience, my parents brought in a cleric, believing the cause to be some restless spirit. In the end, I suppose you could call it such, but not in the manner of spirit that clergy deal with; the cleric could offer no explanation. All he said at the time was that there was no restless dead. But he did remark a feeling of being watched.


That was common for everyone who entered my room. Most avoided it, myself included, until I noticed that the longer I was away, the more often the room would be a mess when I did return. I started bringing books back with me from the library, spending more time in my room reading. My education certainly did not suffer for these bizarre circumstances in which I had found myself. I began to study the arcane, an effort that saw me through decades of learning. Yet, for all my efforts, I was frustrated.


No matter how well I studied, I could not manifest a single spell.


Page 3


The writing on this page begins in the same elegant script, but the words become more jagged where the quill had scratched into the parchment further down the page. At the end of the page, the ink looks somewhat waterlogged.


Frustrated in my studies and finding no answers, and baffling more than one teacher, I gave up and returned to the forest. I left for a time to train with a bow and learn of the wild, how to hunt, how to survive. It was relieving to find something I was good at. I was particularly adept at finding mushrooms.


Six years ago, when I finally returned home, I expected my room to be a mess, as I had come to expect. I did not expect to find my room locked; I had never needed to lock it before. When I went to my parents, they were surprised to see me. They were quite certain I was occupied, and even more confused by that I had just returned. They said that I had told them I was continuing my arcane studies instead of departing. In the midst of the confusion, the spare key was located. I returned to my room, and opened the door.


I saw myself with a man I did not know.


I bade him leave, and he did so hastily, before I closed the door and approached my double.


She held up her hands and gave a shrug, saying that if I had wanted to I could simply have joined them. I could scarce believe my eyes or ears. The voice was mine, her movements were mine, but I knew she was not me. I demanded her name, and she replied with my own.


I told her that was not her name. She gave another shrug and a carefree smile, before replying that it suited the form far better than Windbell did, and that she wasn't Windbell any more regardless. Then she advanced, until we were face to face. In that moment I realized her face mirrored mine exactly.


I went for the desk, even as she grabbed me to keep me from it. I saw neither of us were reflected in the mirror. Eventually, I managed to throw her off, and grab the mirror. All at once her demeanour went from worried but playful to terrified and furious. She demanded I put it back, and for a moment, I felt as though I would.


I threw the mirror against the floor, and smashed it with my bow.


She screamed. A terrible scream that I will never forget. She nearly collapsed, once again grabbing on to me, this time to support herself.


She begged me to take her back.


I don't know how long I was in shock; I felt as if life was leaving my body even if I knew it was her, not me. By the time I came to my senses, she had just faded, vanished, with no trace.


I still can't believe I killed her.



Posted on 2019-10-26 at 12:12:51.
Edited on 2019-10-26 at 15:12:45 by Reralae

Topic: Reralae's Fragments of Cal'ele'miur
Subject: I'm glad everyone is enjoying


I've always been fascinated with sprites, fairies, and fairy tales. Not the bedtime stories, but the older stories, those tales of old beings as whimsical as they can be dangerous, benevolent or malevolent as their mood dictates. This fascination is one of the reasons why I tend to always pick a sprite as my picture


I'm drawing on those old proverbs such as "don't step into the rings" and "don't partake of their food" while making it tangibly make sense in Audalis. Writing from the perspective of Audalian helps make sure I develop the atmosphere and feelings I want to achieve, even as I figure out details of the other world which will eventually need a name.


Names are tricky. And if I go so far as to elaborate on their language... That'll be even more tricky  



Posted on 2019-10-25 at 11:46:04.

Topic: Reralae's Fragments of Cal'ele'miur
Subject: The Lost's Journal


The book sits in the collection of volumes kept in Megilindar Nost, to better keep it from the overly curious. By all accounts it was originally a normal, leather bound journal with parchment paper. This book, however, is far from that. Pages of an unknown cloth held between an unusual wooden shell that can be opened freely, despite the wood retaining the common hardness of wood in all other respects. A note kept with the journal describes its state when found - wreathed in flowers of unknown origin, found beside a fairy's ring, as though cast aside from within it. The flowers wilted and disappeared within a week of the journal's recovery.


The author of the journal is penned in ink on the title page. Mirithiel Aeradhen... A name nearly forgotten, and believed to have been lost. A member of the ill-fated Cal'ele'miur exploration many centuries past. 


Though the pages are different from the original journal, many of the pages are inked as though the page were parchment. Some manner of transmutation perhaps.


Page 1


The writing is in elegant Sylvari script, unrushed. 


In the silence of night, and sometimes the day, I can hear my name being called. Faint, on the edges of the wind, but I know it's there. They've been calling me for 6 years now. 


It is believed that fairy circles are those circles of mushrooms we see on occasion. Occasionally there's tale of dancing lights seen over such a circle. I would have refuted such claims - mushrooms, edible or otherwise, are as mundane as the soil or plants they grow on. There's nothing they can do to create light in the air above them. Then I saw it for myself, one winter morning...


I was young then. Entranced by the lights, I approached the ring. Thank Adaron I didn't step beyond. The lights left the circle, and circled around me in a frenzy. Curious, perhaps, of the Syl who had wandered near. I could hear a language, but I couldn't understand it. Yet, somehow I knew they asked my name.


Maybe if I never answered, maybe I wouldn't be called now. 


At the time they seemed harmless enough, like fireflies. I couldn't make out what they were through the light they shed. All I knew was their curiosity seemed sated, and they returned to the circle. I returned home with only a tall tale, a fairy tale.


I never realized one had followed me home.



Posted on 2019-10-25 at 10:49:26.

Topic: Kith, the Cat, and the Khatun Q&A
Subject: No worries


I've been side tracked thinking of faerie tales  



Posted on 2019-10-25 at 08:27:12.

 


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