You have been taken by the Mists

Author Topic: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa  (Read 1428 times)

Glowfire

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Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« on: September 17, 2019, 06:53:44 AM »

The journal cover is embroidered with colourful glass beads. Within the pages are writing in flowing, elegant shorthand. Should one somehow be able to decipher it, it would be composed of a few different languages which are not native.

On some pages there are sketches in ink or charcoal of scenery and people. Several loose papers are placed within, many of them sketches or watercolour paintings.


[Can be taken/stolen/confiscated/searched]

[Everything is written from the perspective of the character and does not reflect the views of the player.]

[El dahyarifa is an Alzhedo title for "the misplaced stranger"; a foreigner, someone who is obviously out of place in a certain setting.]
« Last Edit: September 17, 2019, 07:00:50 AM by Glowfire »
Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #1 on: September 17, 2019, 07:05:55 AM »



[In Common]
These pages contain ink and colour by Dethliss 'Liss' Talaah Santraeger el Dahyarifa.

Should it be found, then please see it returned to its rightful owner.

In case of the demise of the owner with no signs of a return to life, then give it to the Mists - as with the remains of the owner.


[There is a painted coat of arms on the same page]




Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #2 on: September 17, 2019, 08:48:12 AM »



It was some time since I put quill to paper to attempt to form my own thoughts rather than merely observations of the world around. This book the vistani were selling in Port-a-Lucine seems strangely fitting. Perhaps they can read my words with their dark vraja - though it is more likely they were just happy to earn some solars on yet another visitor won over by bright colours and the exotic. A dress, bracelets and shoes - you too can be a vistani and dance to find your way around in the Mists!

~*~

The Coywolf at least has found his place. No longer prowling restlessly. He has his pack and he will need it. How fitting his words to me were.

"A dawn prison is too great a price."

"It is selfish to ask you to stay for me. It is cunning to ask you to stay for your family. But I am the Coywolf."

I sometimes wonder if something was listening and opened the pathways - neither of us getting what we wished for. Though such a thought is foolish. It feels as if he was meant to find the pack he has, that he has found where he belongs - perhaps in a way even more than he ever has within his tribe. I fear to disturb his peace, his joy, his place. It is as if being caught out in the cold dark, looking in through a window and seeing the warm glow from the hearth, hands too frozen to open the door. It is not by his doing but I fear he would walk into the night rather than stay in the warmth.

~*~

"Thou hast been judged and been found wanting."

It will not be the first judgment nor the last. And I care little for the judgment of the entity. If the purity it seeks is the suffering I see in the Oathsworn then I will remain glad to not share of it. It was the cold shoulder afterwards. The feeling of being naughty and told to think in a corner, like a child. It was being lead to that thing with no word, no explanation. That which is tainted being cast aside.


[In clear Alzhedo lettering]
The Judge offers choice. The Righteous teach how to choose.

~*~

I wonder how long it will take them to realize I am gone. How long will they try to look for? What will they think happened..? It would not be for a few years at least before they would be truly concerned. Ink and colour would be all that remain as memory. Oh how I wish I could brush my fingers over some of those memories given form but they are gone and lost from my grasp. Perhaps the ... [blotted out word] ... she is right, that I should honour them here in ink and colour. If I were to forgot what they looked like or who they are - I am not sure I could forgive myself.

I thought of Coram while we sipped coffee on the lanceboard. Missing him is like a deep ache; we arrived together to the world - to Toril - and it has always been a comfort to know he is there, somewhere. He still is of course but now so far out of my reach. No letter will reach, no words sounding in the mind.

~*~

I dance and twirl around. Moving into strong arms, holding close. A soft touch, a deep hunger.

I said I would not and yet I did.

I am happy to gaze upon the moon together.

Even though the clouds will move and cast that which is bright into darkness.



Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #3 on: September 20, 2019, 03:46:17 PM »



When the Repentant held out the lute as a form of apology I wanted to take it, take it and bash it right over his head. What is apology without words?

Even if my heart remains bitter the instrument's sound is sweet.

We have not shared words since I was addressed the once with the one sentence. And now, now all must be forgotten and forgiven, surely.

~*~

[The words are written out in clear Chondathan]
Loss

I stumble

On liquid ground

Realities made of sand

Doubt


~*~

I am not sure the Lecturer knew what he was doing. It makes more sense that he would not have known. It was his words that made me consider how to approach the matter after all.

Though what if he did.

There are no answers other than those I find. Left to stumble around, blindly.

For people who stand for light, they cloak themselves in darkness. Pulling it tightly.

~*~

I am many things.

I am not like Loredana the Brave.

How far would she go?

Further than I.

~*~

[The words are written out in clear Chondathan]
"The Light does not always shine clearly; sometimes it is sprinkled along the ground and one must figure which ray to follow."

~*~

[On the opposite side of the page a loose watercolour painting has been placed. It depicts a canary bird in flight [click]]

[Underneath it, on a page on the journal itself is a charcoal sketch of a boy's head with no face. The eyes gaping empty and dark. The nose a mess where one should have been. The mouth with visible teeth. Flesh still clinging to the bones. The outline is blurry, the charcoal strokes being faint in parts of the sketch as if to deliberately make the paper be seen through. Below the boy's head on the paper is a single clear word in Balok, "Mulţumesc". At the bottom of the page, to the right, words in Common are spelled out clearly, "I'm sorry" followed straight after by more letters clearly spelled out in Balok, "...cu plăcere..."]




« Last Edit: September 20, 2019, 03:47:53 PM by Glowfire »
Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #4 on: November 19, 2019, 02:39:29 PM »



I used to be afraid of them.

I was told to be afraid.

The heavy blade swung down and I knew who I feared.

~*~

While I wept her face was cold, with focused anger.

"Do you think what I did to be dishonorable?"


To what lengths are we prepared to go for those we care for.

How far.

~*~

[There is an ink sketch of the upper body of a man in a Garda uniform, wearing an easily distinguished helmet shaped like a hawk. He holds a paper in one hand, showing it towards the viewer. A very vague feminine figure is sketched on it, in a guard stance. With his other hand and cloak, the man carefully shields the paper from rain. Despite the helmet rendering the man expressionless the stance and how carefully the paper is both held and shielded from the weather gives an indication of care and fondness.]

[A loose paper is painted in watercolours and depicts a man's upper body, styled in Garda uniform. A golden aster in his right hand, held out towards the viewer, stands out with its bright golden yellow and detail. The man appears to be in his late twenties with lighter brown hair and a chiseled face. There is a look in his hazel eyes which might suggest some good natured trickery. A pendant of the Morninglord hangs around his neck but the shine from it is duller than from the golden aster.]

[A rough charcoal sketch of a young woman in a Garda uniform looking down with excitement at an open book in her hands.]

[A charcoal sketch of a young wolf who is happily chasing after a herd of running deer.]

[Another rough charcoal sketch depicts two full figures of a male and female Garda. The man wears the outline of a distinctive hawk shaped helmet and is reaching out to flick the plume of the woman's helmet]

[A sketch in black ink shows a man clad in a dark and simple shirt and pants sitting on the floor in a relaxed manner, leaning back against a bench with his face turned towards a large window from which moonlight shines in from. The moonlight bathes the man's harsh facial features, softening them with shimmering silver ink. Silver ink is also painted into his hair. There is a faraway, dreamy look in his eyes as he gazes out the window. An open book is resting on a leg with an upturned cover with a hand lying over it in a disinterested manner. On the back of the sketch a few words are written: "You don't find the best things in life without risk."]

[A rough charcoal sketch depicts a Barovian woman in a simple dress leaning over a cauldron, stirring the liquid within with a ladle. A good-natured grin is present on her lips.]

[Two Garda are sketched roughly in charcoal with few details. It is however clear that one is female and the other male, both wearing hoods. The blurred out shapes appear to be huddled close together, holding hands.]

[A quick ink sketch shows a male Garda in a hawk-like helmet and wearing heavier armor. Some letters are written next to him, all different variations on grunts.]

[The loose watercolour painting depicts the head of a woman wearing a brown hood which she is reaching for with both hands, in the process of revealing tresses of auburn hair. Her skin is tanned and her face angular with large doe-brown eyes which are lit up in a small grin.]





Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #5 on: November 24, 2019, 01:34:29 PM »



[A watercolour and ink painting is inserted between the pages of the journal. It depicts a man in dark green attire with a longsword and shield in his hands, surrounded by a green protective magical field. The symbol of Ezra depicting a longsword and sprig of belladonna superimposed on a kite shield is clearly visible on the man's chest in the form of a pendant. His brown hair is dishevelled but the short beard is still neat. His cold blue gaze is piercing through the green which envelopes him.

The Mists rise behind, tendrils moving upwards and reaching for the Warden just outside of the green field. On his left side a silhouette of a hag hiding in the Mists is seen. On his right side a large raven is flying out of the Mists over his shoulder. A lone black feather has come loose and is falling down in front of the man.

His stance makes it difficult to determine whether he is about to turn around and strike at the hag hidden in the Mists or whether he is about to strike at the raven which has just emerged.
]


~*~

[In Common]

"Do you believe?"

"I do believe she is real and has power, yes."

"It is the first step - to acknowledge the truth that is before you."



... but how do we discern the truth from the lies?

~*~

[The prayer is surrounded by a border of belladonna leaves, flowers and berries in watercolour.]

Ezra, Guardian in the Mists.

I cannot say I know You well but I have heard much of You and I hope to hear more.

Even if I may not turn my full gaze upon You, I would like to learn and know what it is You and Your followers stand for.

Not only that but I hope that in understanding I can better aid the Warden of Yours who stands here with me, for I do think he needs aid.

Not because I think his faith or convictions lacking... this I do not doubt.

...but because we all need someone to keep us on the right path in life.

To tell us the right words when we need to hear them.

To hold us when it seems cold and we feel lonely out there.

For when standing against darkness, light can sometimes feel so far away.

And darkness can be found all around us.


I would hope that You would grant Your servant beside me the strength and the will to stand against it, and I would hope that You would not mind me standing by him.




Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #6 on: January 16, 2020, 06:16:23 PM »



[Unlike many other entries, this one is not written in short hand but in clear lettering in Common.]

"I am strong because the Morninglord needs me to be strong for everyone else."

"I am strong for you."


~*~

Sometimes I still hear her voice. Warmth echoing from somewhere at the back of my mind. I miss her then, more deeply than I ever thought I would. We never really knew each other but in some way, I don't believe it matters. I think back on what she said so often. She spoke from her heart and she spoke of things as she saw them.

No matter what others thought of her words.

She felt them in her heart and that was what mattered.

~*~

"I find that those who say they dislike a person or religion, simply do not understand them and what they stand for."


She whispered. So I sought to understand.

~*~

"I have made my husband quite irritated time and again by showing compassion to those who... do not know what compassion means. Does that mean that they do not deserve compassion?"

"Perhaps they are cruel because it is all they have ever known."


I seek something in each to love and cherish. I'm not so blind that I don't see the truth. I see it, I see it... but does that mean they're not worthy of compassion? It was from that my prayer was born, I think. I thought the Warden couldn't stand against the Legion alone - because who of us can? His fault was that he denied the existance of darkness within himself.

I saw it and I wept.

I wish she had been there. Not to chastise but to... ...


~*~

"To be human is to feel. I feel anger, and rage and sometimes even hatred. But I do not let it consume me, because if I let it then there will be no turning back."

~*~

I will not and can not regret setting out on a path of understanding the faith, or faiths as they seem - all under one goddess or what she truly might be. Loredana the Brave spoke of something being out there, hidden by the Mists. I don't think she meant it was Ezra, for she'd not have said what else she did otherwise. But that whatever it is, it reaches for and latches on to the darkness that is present in all of us, even if just a sliver. It tries to make this darkness grow. It was why she fought so hard, for everything. Why she remained brave and strong.

I don't think I've felt it as she does. But in the hours of the night, when alone, I sometimes feel the memory of the darkness I once felt at home... from the land I come from. Twisting and turning, awakening without being able to scream, or to make any sound. As if it stole my breath. But I hear the echo of the scream in my mind.

I reject it. I reject. I reject it.

~*~

From the shadows.

"Love is a lie, only hate endures."

~*~

And when I can't breathe or don't know what to do, the Coywolf seeks to remind me.

"Love, and Love of Life. It is the lesson you teach best."


~*~

I remember so well the first time she said she would die.

"It is in your name we live our lives."

Then the second.

"He would die for me, and let me die for him."

"That is the most important thing. He would -let- me die."


And then she died.


"I let her do it... I don't know what that makes me. I told her she should do it... that she is hope and redemption, best not stop now."


Sacrificing herself.

"She died the same way she lived. A gift."


"Did she want to...?"

"Very much."


And I'm not strong on my own.

~*~

[A loose paper is inserted between the pages depicting in watercolour a woman dressed in bright orange robes with long, dark hair. She is kneeling in a field of golden asters with a few of the flowers tucked into her hair. Her hands are cupped with a featherless baby bird sitting in them - ugly as they are in that stage, blind and utterly dependent. One of her hands is missing a finger. The woman looks down at the young bird with a warm smile, her face marked by scars and one eye far paler than the other bright green one. Her posture and expression speaks of reverance and care for the frail being she holds. Two indistinguishable dark shapes fly behind her in the distant sky.]



Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #7 on: January 18, 2020, 11:10:17 AM »



"Maybe it is part of you."

"It is probably how you are. You get drawn to people, as people get drawn to you. "

It is sometimes a frightening feeling yet it has always been that way, has it not? I can't deny that it is a part of me. As much as the words hurt at the time I can't deny the truth of them.

~*~

"I can't change your nature.  I don't want to change you, either. It is a short existence, we can't waste time trying to be what we aren't."

I tried. For a pitiful amount of time. Perhaps it was better that it was so soon than later.

~*~

"You should go left or right, because in the middle you are going to get hurt."

"You want to try and taste everything, and that gives you a stomach ache, but in your mind, your heart, perhaps in your soul. "

I know, I know. I can't help it.

It hurts.

~*~

[In Sylvan, the writing flowing rather chaotically on the whole page.]

"Nothing is the wrong answer. I am asking how you feel. I know this place is... hard. Its hard what we left behind. "

"I was ready, when you came back, and we had to go south. No one could be ready for the mists, but... But I was not so weak as I was. "


But I was weak, then - and now.


"No, you are not... you have grown. More than I, I think."


"It would be wrong for you to grow too much. "


"Why wrong?"


I remember my surprise. For surely I was meant to grow, to become something more.


"The Feydancer must dance. Always."


"...but how must she dance?"


I wanted to know how. I needed to know.


"However she likes. Just never how another tells her. Always just what her heart says."


"I am not sure you always like what my heart tells me..."


"That is true, yes. But you do not dance for me, nor would I want you to. You should dance only for yourself, but what you truly are. And that brings smiles to all. I believe it."


I heard his words and they were beautiful. I wanted to believe.


"...I do not know what I truly am. What I saw in the spirit journey, those years back...?"


"I remember... I have words that I could say about what I think the journey meant. But its your own heart that must tell you."


I am not sure what it tells me.


~*~

He said he would bring me to a raunie.




« Last Edit: January 18, 2020, 11:22:54 AM by Glowfire »
Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #8 on: January 22, 2020, 08:39:34 PM »
[Spirit Journey - Prologue - 1:1]




"I have been there many times. This axe has tasted wood, orc, and unseelie there. It is a place to respect, and to be alive. It has many spirits."

Cynric had walked up behind me as I was lost staring across the river at the forest. I can never say what I think about in those moments but I believe he had stood there for a while before speaking. I splashed myself with the water and then let my hand remain in the river, feeling the current. To be reminded of that I was alive.

[There is a watercolour painting showing a man in perhaps his fifties but still in good physique; that of a warrior. He is clad in thick furs and with long brown hair which is tied back. The beard is plaited into two braids on either side of his mouth. His eyes are a clear blue. He leans against a long greataxe with an evident smirk.]

We spoke of Kerdic. His pain after the Penitent had left, of the things which he hides in his own thin mists. We spoke of myself. Of how Old Karth had wanted me to stay with the tribe as a child, so that I may be trained in the ways of a shaman. I had at first misunderstood Cynric, thinking Old Karth sought to hide me away but it would have been to protect me. I wonder how different my life would have been.

Far too different.

~*~

"Who knows whether you are ready to be what you are meant to be, yet? I do not know. You do not know. The Coven do not know. This walk, my son says you need it to help find yourself. This it can do. Perhaps."

"You will see truth in the spirits, but only you can say if it is your truth."

I still don't know what I'm meant to be.

Love, and Love of Life. A gentle light. Is it my truth, or his?

~*~

When I was afraid Cynric made me realize something I place more value in now than the mind of a terrified youth did.

"You are one of us, Child of the Forest."

~*~

He had asked me what I had realized in the cold lands after we had spoken of Kerdic. I could not say. I could not say anything at that time that would have made it seem as if my journey had been of any worth. I remember the tightening feeling in my chest, the hopelessness of it all. My eyes watering. I tipped myself into the river with Cynric's words following me.

"I do not mind if you add to the river. It is part of life. I wept before I smiled."

He didn't say anything as I climbed out. That was the way of the Greyfox, to let people be who they needed to be. To do as they needed to do. On the way back, he told me the secret of how he found harmony with his chiefdom and his two wives. How he had chased Nerys the Skald, Kerdic's mother, and tried to be something he thought she wanted. A hero, the one to unite the tribes. He had chased Nerys daughter of Taban but Nerys had chased Layana the Healing One - and Layana gave up her walls and her knights to be with Nerys.

When he was free of any promise, he was able to ask himself what he wanted to be. He spoke of his need of pretending vanishing as the people of the small tribe filled his heart; the ones dead and the ones needing to be saved. How he became a chief in his heart only then. He had let Nerys go, and he was happy. Then he saw the truth.

That he didn't need to hunt, that he could just be. That he didn't need to resent the Healing One, for he could see her beauty.

"We do not change others how they do not want to be changed. We only change ourselves."

Perhaps this story is why Kerdic thought I should be free of any promise to others. That if I had no one chasing me or I chasing them, I would be able to better find myself. I couldn't however. Why? A fear of loss? A fear of loneliness? I want someone to hold me, to hold me close. I only ever feel safe and at peace in those moments. Sometimes it is a very selfish feeling. I think I am too afraid of losing those I care for, too afraid to be alone. To face the nights alone. Not the beasts outside but those within.

~*~

"The wind is at your back, feel it."

What does it feel like?

~*~

"Something can kill you, or it can hurt you, or it can try and curse you. These are things it can do, but it can never change the fire in your heart, if you trust yourself enough to be yourself. You are the one that was named Dethliss Santraeger, the child of Firefingers and Wallheart, Child of the Forest and Feydancer. This is you, no matter what tries to harm you."

...if I trust myself enough to be myself.

I think... I'm afraid.






((Collaborative writing with Colonic / Kleomenes))
« Last Edit: March 10, 2020, 06:44:39 PM by Glowfire »
Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #9 on: February 26, 2020, 09:14:24 PM »



"In order to be a good friend you forget what it takes to be a good person."

I'm not quite sure what I had expected when I decided to approach him for advise. It was a feeling of desperation that lead me to it and a hope for something, for another option to be presented.

A mistake.

~*~

"A good action from my enemy is still a good action, And a bad one from a friend still bad. And if that friend is filled only with bad actions, then I need to evaluate myself that I would call them a friend."

The words had been said and the meaning was clear. The judgement was given. There was little point in saying anything.

~*~

"A person tries to be good or they don't."

... and I am not.

~*~

I felt as if I was back in that place. Their swords gleaming in the dim light of the night.

To be accused of begging for favour while rejecting aid.

~*~

I returned days later and I placed the symbol of the Morninglord in one of the rooms in the temple by one of the statues. So many rooms, so many symbols.

~*~

I can't be what others want me to be.

I tried.

In some ways I tried. Did I try hard enough? I'm not sure.

~*~

I feel sick whenever I have to step inside one of the temples. My skin grow cold and I see their looks, their judgements so clear with no trial offered.

The Coywolf doesn't understand.

He doesn't see the ways I'm chased in my dreams. How I'm stabbed by their spears, with their scornful faces looking down at mine.

~*~

I gaze up at the sun and the warmth from it is a lie.

~*~

[A watercolour painting depicts a man from the side with orange-red hair and beard with one tip of a sharp ear visible through the hair. He is clad in dark attire. One arm is held out in front of him with a raven perched on it. The raven's claws dig deep into the forearm, pieces of flesh having been gouged out elsewhere on the arm by a bloodied beak. As if the man was being feasted on while still alive. The man's expression doesn't give away the pain, instead looking grim and focused on something in the distance. His other hand appears to be stroking the bird even though he doesn't look at it.]




Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #10 on: March 04, 2020, 09:04:31 PM »



[A loose sheet of paper depicts several songbirds in flight, painted in watercolours. The birds are surrounded by grey swirls, some of the birds being of half-mist themselves.]

~*~

"The truth, once known, cannot be undone.  Some mysteries are best not revealed." 
"The agony of the truth, its burden, can be... irrevocable."


A warning, repeated.

There was a time I was drawn to the unknown with little mind for consequences.

Sometimes, I perhaps still do.

Sometimes I wonder if that is what I feel about the feather.

It was not what I asked of the raunie however. In some ways, I already know the answers.

Or do I?

There was clear power in the air. I cannot explain. It is like with the shamans.

~*~

"A forked tongue's promises ring hollow."

~*~

"A mother is always drawn to her child, no matter the tragedy which has consumed them."

If the mother's love is powerful.

In a place so far away, what do past choices matter.


"For now your fate and his design for being reunited are irrevocably intertwined."

And how much do the future ones matter?


The self-imposed geas.

~*~

I can hear the Coywolf's words in my mind.

That I help those I sleep with, that I reserve most of my compassion for those who move my heart.

That I am more than focusing on one flawed person in an attempt to make them better.

That I hide in it, I pour everything in it, because I haven't found myself.


"It is you being the Mole, hiding from things."

... to not give up ideals for love, for then it is not love....


[Several rough charcoal sketches are placed in the journal. One depicts the face of a young Barovian boy who is smiling happily. Another of a middle-aged Barovian man with a moustache. One of a frail looking woman with the facial traits of the Vistani, her gaunt expression and eyes giving an insight into a deep sadness; a rash seems to be covering parts of her face. Another sketch of a man with shoulder-lenth hair with several sections tied off with beads, with a short but mildly aquiline nose. Some more detailed paintings have also been added.]


[One shows an old Vistani woman who despite her age does not look weak, something about how she carries herself oozes power. Her sharp and wizened eyes are focused on her crystal ball. A vague figure can be seen in the crystal bowl among the grey swirls within. ]


[Another colourful watercolour painting shows the same young boy and man with a moustache from the sketches but more detailed, playfighting and laughing with toyswords in their hands inside a house.]
Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #11 on: March 10, 2020, 06:43:17 PM »
[Spirit Journey - Prologue - 1:2]



I asked her what she would like to hear.

"The wind," she answered. So I played.

~*~

"And you, you dance on the wind. That is what I will give my protection to."

The Coywolf said many other things, too.

It was when he had met Kaya, before he had Hegda.

~*~

"Child, I speak for the Dead. Do you seek to speak to them?" The old, withered and near as blind shaman had spoken.

"I speak for the Living. Do you wish to learn more of those around you?" Raladra spoke next.

"I speak for the Unborn," Meru said. "What questions do you have..?"

"What do you seek in the journey?" The Ancient One asked.

"What will you take with you on your journey?" The speaker of the living questioned.

They all asked questions and answered mine.

"It is done how it is always done," said the Ancient One, "and it is different every time."


"I'd like to bring song."


~*~

When the time came, I stepped inside the tent of the coven.

Unclothed, my skin was being covered in grey paint; swirling wind-like patterns.

The only thing I wore was a borrowed amber necklace. I'm not sure why I chose to keep it on.

The Coywolf was there with me, -shy- at first.

The Speaker of the Dead began to hum and I felt a change in the air.

Something was thrown on the fire, the pungent scent filling the tent and making us lightheaded.

~*~

I had an offering. For one does not go to such places without a gift, surely.

It had been a silly thing but one I had spent much time on. A fine ring with a gemstone, polished by my own hand.


"Sing the song of the moment."


And that moment had gone.

I threw it into the brazier.

~*~

As we were both painted, I began to hum along with the familiar yet foreign words. So close to Alzhedo but their meaning escaped my understanding.

The Speaker of the Dead had a stick with bones attached, which he rattled.

Then the feymilk was brought. "Drink," the Speaker of the Living said.

It was warm and sweet with the warmth quickly spreading.


Then I heard wings and the caw of a raven and we were somewhere else.





((Collaborative writing with Colonic / Kleomenes))
« Last Edit: March 23, 2020, 09:59:28 PM by Glowfire »
Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #12 on: March 23, 2020, 09:54:38 PM »



What is mercy?

I remember when I found my father's old journal. The one he had kept after being cast out from Castle Santraeger, after leaving Tethyr, after he left Athkatla. Before he was wed to my mother.

His handwriting was interrupted by hers between sentences and in the margins. As she later explained to me, she was still struggling then - with her own redemption. I had turned the pages like a thief with something they shouldn't have but as it turned out, the journal had been something to read. For there were lessons to learn within. Of faith, of struggles, of family, the Tethyr that was and never was to be again.

~*~

Ilmater teaches to endure and preserve in the face of pain and suffering. He also teaches to right all wrongs, and about mercy. I don't think my father and I ever had quite the same views on it all but I have always known that without mercy, I nor my siblings would have been born. Every time I came back home, I'd ask for another blessed red cord to leave with. Somehow I always found another to give it to, someone who needed it more than I.

One of the things my father used to say is that the world is one of pain, suffering and death - that even if a few are saved... they might not be the most deserving but they're not nothing. This realm is more cruel than where I am from. I wonder what he would make of it all. I can imagine and I don't wish for him or anyone else to experience it.

~*~

"My faith is based on the belief that my place is to stand against the imperfection: against the horror and suffering, despite my own fear and weaknesses. I must stand strong, even as shadows close."

~*~

I'm not sure if we'll ever quite find out if mercy through the sword was the right choice. I'm not sure if it there could have been another way, under all of those circumstances. My father used to speak of how the sword must be the last resort; a necessary evil in the goal of saving all and yet it stood as an admission of that not everyone can be saved, that the ideal sometimes gives way to reality.

~*~

[The above sentences look neat while the words that follow are messy, written in uneven lines on the page. Ink drops and smears half-cover some words.]

What does it matter?

But mercy has to matter.

What was I looking for in these words. Some kind of solace.

Yet it is a lie, isn't it?

I'll always remain the fool.

...the world can be beautiful if we but fight for it...

Nothing. There's nothing.

Nothing nothing nothing...



[The previous two sentences have a line through them and the words written beneath in a steady, flowing hand - rather pleasing to the eye - suggests that they have been written at different times.]


"Life is a song, beginning at birth and only silenced with the final chord."

"Strive always to make the whole song, not just the lyrics and music, more beautiful."





Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #13 on: April 14, 2020, 09:58:52 PM »
[Spirit Journey - The Dead - 2:1]




The raven sat on the shoulder of the Speaker of the Dead, its dark eyes looking at me. A fox appeared from behind the Speaker of the Living and on the Speaker of the Unborn's hand a falcon was perched.

There was a presence next to me. It looked somewhat like Aflie and Rozalia and yet not. It was leaner and slighter in build, with thick grey fur. It was the Coywolf. I remember I felt safe.

There was nothingness around us. I tried to -look- but I couldn't find it, so I turned to the Coywolf. I remember then that fear began to grow. What if something had happened to it? It had been a while since I saw it, after all. What if what had been done to me, had somehow killed it?

The Coywolf sniffed the nothingness.

Sniff. Sniff. Sniff. His nose down, paw scratching at something.

The small, dark mole made it's appearance known by biting the Coywolf's paw. He jumped and yelped but held no ill will, his eyes bearing amusement.

I wanted to hold the mole, to have a moment... but it isn't what moles do and I had somewhere to be. It had dug a hole for me. The raven sat on the edge of the hole and the Speaker of the Dead spoke through it, "Inside are the dead. I know not what you will see, and I will not see it with you, for I keep your spirits safe."

I had to crawl to be able to follow the mole. We reached a clearing in some woods, the morning sun shining brightly from above. It was hot - we were in Tethyr, the land of my father.

A woman stood in that clearing, with short almost completely grey hair. She was dressed in the grey robes of Ilmater with a red cord wrapped around one wrist. Her skin was tanned and weathered from a lifetime in the sun and she was lean yet there was no weakness in her. Her calloused hands and sinewy muscles were born not only of the use of the rake and hoe. I remember best her warm brown eyes, like a hearth, yet full with wit.

I didn't recognize her, I had never met her. Yet, she knew me. She told me how alike my mother I was, at least in looks. I was often told this. Her voice was foreign, certainly not Tethyrian but instead Sembian. The Ilmateri woman mused on why she was there. I had an urge to look at what I was wearing. It was a fine tunic of royal blue with gold lining - the colours of the Santraegers.


"You were named for me."


I knew then who she was. From all the stories I had heard. This was the woman who had given her life in Tethyr so that my parents could live. A woman of such great, impossible deeds that I never felt I could live up to the name that had been granted to me at birth. I felt I was a constant disappointment in my father's eyes. Everyone else had taken to calling me 'Liss', yet he still addressed me by her name. For I didn't see it as my own.

I didn't know what to say. She filled the silence and spoke of how this was the clearing my father had often come to after his legs had healed, after he had sent away my grandfather's men - the men sent to convince him to return.

"He'd fight legions of ghost warriors, like he could cut away his doubts. Such fire, such anger. He had such doubts about his path, and he loathed himself for it; then he loathed himself for embracing those doubts and choosing the Broken God."

She spoke of never having had the chance to properly thank my mother in helping him find a place where he belonged. I offered to pass on the word.

She spoke of her past. Of how she had sold her blade for coin across Sembia and the Dales. That not everyone who met her blade deserved it and with time, doubt grew within her and she struggled until she found peace in the faith of Ilmater. That it was how she knew there was good in my father. This side of her was not one my father had really ever spoken of.

"Don't worry about carrying my name. You don't need to be a copy of me to make me happy you ever came to be. There's some of your father's fears; living for others expectations, yet defying them. It's a paradox in both of you."

She stepped closer and cupped my cheek. I was rather lost for words still. Hers had struck somewhere deep and I knew something changed within me, perhaps not immediately but it was a change. We embraced and she bid me to remember what she had said and that it was time for us to part.

~*~

Later on, when I read his old journal I found some entries which mentioned her. I understood better than what he had meant to her. She was the mother he never really had and he was a son in all but name.

I poured over those pages and in my mind's eye, she became more alive to me. As if even if we had never truly met, that I knew her.


I find myself wondering now if the wise priestess my father had once written of was her, the one who said, "There are often no good choices, just least bad ones."


[A warercolour painting is inserted between the pages depicting Dethliss the Martyr of Ilmater, with her warm brown eyes.]

[Another watercolour painting is that of a very cute, digging mole.]







((Collaborative writing with Colonic / Kleomenes))
Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #14 on: August 13, 2020, 08:44:06 PM »
[Spirit Journey - The Dead - 2:2]




As we walked away from Dethliss we found ourselves walking in a hallways in a castle, stone walls and stone walls with tapestries. A door was ahead of me and I opened it. It was a lady's solarium, with a table and chairs, a couch and other pieces of fine carved furniture.

"Come let me look at you. Let me see how bad it is." A woman who's beauty was dulled with age but who still carried a noble bearing stood inside, turning towards me. I was expected, perhaps. Her brown hair was tied up finely, the pale green dress she wore matched her eyes. Like my father's. She bore a brooch shaped like a wheatsheaf.

[There is a loose piece of paper with a watercolour painting of the noble woman placed between the pages.]

I knew who she was without ever having seen her. My paternal grandmother. Mida Santraeger, née Deshar.

I didn't step closer.

She had many more harsh words to offer me. I offered some back to her.

The Coywolf growled as Mida stepped closer and began to circle me, her eyes growing darker. I was wearing a fine dress in the Santraeger colours of blue and gold. The Coywolf however was ghostly in how he appeared and didn't seem fully visible to Mida.

"I wonder if you carry any of our blood, I see nothing of you in him. Did your mother whore herself before she chained my son? He was mine, my son. My father had hopes for him. Our blood mixed with the highest nobles. It is his Santraeger blood that had him mix with servants and... actresses."

As we continued to exchange biting words, her eyes grew darker still. Not green any more but becoming black.

Shadows swirled around her, and I tried to keep my distance. "Tell my son, I never forgave him, for breaking my heart. I died cursing him."

Cold swept through the room. There was something familiar about it and it gripped my heart in fear. I answered her back, while still trying to keep my distance, "If that's how you died, then you truly lived a sorry life."

"That, we have in common," She hissed in return with the Coywolf's growl deepening, his hackles rising as he became fully visible to Mida.

As Mida turned to the Coywolf, I reached for a pitcher of wine and hit it over her head with as much force as I could muster. She turned back towards me then. She was not Mida anymore, though, but something else. A snarling shape with claws, eyes as black as the void. The Coywolf leapt at her with a braying bark and as they fell to the floor, the floor shattered.

I remember screaming loudly as I fell. My fear for the thing that was pretending to be Mida intermingled with what seemed for a moment as a never-ending fall.

~*~

She was a cold woman and would never have approved of her son marrying my mother. I think my father tried to find the more pleasant memories to speak of when he spoke with us children about the family history and Castle Santraeger. It was only when I read his old journals that I saw written in his hand the things he would not tell. How she favoured his younger brother, how he himself was never good enough in her eyes.

During the Black Days of Eleint she was hung from the castle's walls along with her husband, my grandfather, Ardepan and the beloved son, my uncle, Errilar. This was many years before I was born.

~*~

The Darkness.

I escaped it narrowly.

I do not belong to it.

I will not belong to it here.






((Collaborative writing with Colonic / Kleomenes))
Liss Santraeger - "Life is a song. Don't be scared to sing along."
Eglantine Desrosiers - "A rose is still a rose, even if it has only one petal left."