Earebrithiel Bedweth - Journal

[Laiken]

The sketching of a harp shrouded in fire makes the preface of the small book, before inked, clawmarks like runes fills its pages.

A year... It has been a year since it all began... As I sit here, in the mist camp, I look back to everything that brought me here to this moment. I see that after all this time, I still find myself unable to find sense to any of it. All that was done, seen or heard, yet the mists forever remains the same. Only the people come and go. Most surface and struggle for a few months before vanishing and falling into limbo... Forgotten. Unknown. Missed.

I look back and I still wonder, how one's mother could murder her child for her own advancement... I look back and wonder how one's father can remain content in being powerless... Of not doing all they can for their spawn... Despite all that, how I miss Mystara sometimes... How I miss Belcadiz. The unending flow of travellers. The tales and legends. All the races thriving together, the absence of war, the safety of the night.

"The mists saved my life" I always said... Did they... I remember the lost elf I was. Clueless. Helpless. Mind and body poisoned with falsehood and betrayal. A child in many eyes.
I remember the pride in my blood. How I relished in old stories and legends of my ancestors and their invisible kingdom. Saviors of the world. Dragons immortal.
How I was naught but terror in peoples eyes then. A wild beast about to explodes at any moment, threat to their lives.
I remember the old mentor, Selyth. My time pulled in all directions at once. Begged by some to surrender. Encouraged by some to press on. The conflicts and arguments, ever present resent. My own lust for power. Giving myself excuses.
Two families at each others throat, that was. Catalysts to my rage. Source of my sorrow. Already was I witnessing how stability does not exist here in the mists. Does it anywhere, I wonder...

I remember then my old companions... Marielle and Ailne... And the hag... Braga... All that we've seen... The things we should "not" have seen... All these things we've battled, all these times death nearly wrapped us in her cold embrace... Yet the Great One be thanked, we kept on. But this sense of having accomplished nothing, in the end... We never stopped her... We never ended her... Only halted things. This day still, I wait. Watch and listen. Until what I fear the most will someday resurface, for I am sure she will.
I remember then, all this time spent in A.R's laboratory... The horrors we've discovered. All this knowledge that I wish I could erase out of my mind. I remember her curse... Her calling, each day. Her sick love for us three...

Then I remember... How I lost him... How long I searched. Everywhere. My despair. I was alone, he abandoned me. Then once more, the mists brought me in their cold and blurry embrace.

Even to this day, I do not remember... What happened in there ? What have I done, seen ? I remember Fire... How I was changed, shaped by the core, no memories of my old self. The mercenary. Driven by greed.

I remember Mathieu. His smile, how helpful and kind he have been. How I didn't blink or move a finger when the truth revealed itself.
I remember how I evaded everything... Finding bliss in becoming a simple person of trade and craftsmanship. How I took pride in people wielding my weapons. How I cared little about the world or its problems. Until whole I was again. How I sought to make up for everything. How I stood at night, watchful.

I remember the Wayfarers. Yet another family adding itself to the list. How I was glad, to put some sort of purpose to my existence within the mists.
I remember the Balor, how firm we stood. Savu, Dryjka, Zephyr. How people stood there, idiotic, watching death itself appear in front of them to claim them and did not move.
The hunts with Morvayn. How one night I found Morrigan and the stewart in that lair. How I watched them put an end to Stela, my part done.
The worm following that "Vecna". How we clashed repeatedly. How it still thrives to this day.


A whole year in these cursed lands... And in the end... Little has changed... I am still as clueless. I still feel the call, unending, ever tempting. And I know... One day... I will break. But until what's within consumes me, I must keep walking and fighting. There is no hope for me. A beast sharpening its claws, waiting to take over.

There is no recognition here. No memorable mark to leave upon the world. No purpose. All I can do, know how to do... Is stand for others. Fight. Live for them. Until I disappear completely, or the mists claims me once more, never to give back this time.

Until then, I will keep going. And live that senseless life.

[Laiken]

Reaching upon this page, you find nothing but... Nonsense. And find yourself doubtful wether what you see is indeed ink.

Liar...
Lost...
Liar...
Dead...
My fault...
MONSTER
SHOULD HAVE SAVED HIM
TRICKED
HE LEARNED FROM "HIM"


It seems to continue on a good while in a similar fashion until only blank pages remains

[Laiken]