Author Topic: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa  (Read 3508 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."

Glowfire

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Re: Liss Santraeger - El Dahyarifa
« Reply #15 on: September 24, 2020, 07:04:43 PM »
[Spirit Journey - The Dead - 2:3]




I fell for what felt like an eternity before I landed in a cot with a thud, gasping for air after having screaming for so long. I was in a small hovel, whoever lived here clearly was poor. There was a meager fire burning with a woman sitting by it.

She had been coughing but noticed me and knew me as soon as she laid her eyes on me. She was ill but her face lit up in surprise and a happy smile which radiated warmth and love.


"Please, let me see you."


I didn't know her and I was afraid of intruding but she reassured that I could never. I awkwardly got up from the cot - her cot. She bid me to come closer and tried to rise from her chair, struggling. I was still wary after my previous meeting but this felt different, so I carefully stepped closer. The frail woman had brown hair and a soft expression. Her illness had ravaged her, perhaps once she had been pretty.

[The woman's portrait, in watercolour, has been placed between the pages of the journal entry.]

"My little one made you, oh you are so beautiful. Look at you, so beautiful and so finely dressed." Tears welled up in her feverish eyes and she wheezed, trying to reach for me. I offered my hands to her and only noticed then that I was wearing a fairly plain dress.

I wasn't sure of what to do, whether I could do anything. So I asked her. "I'll pass soon, and then terrible things will happen to my little one." My mother. She spoke of my mother.

I tried to reassure the woman, my maternal grandmother, that her daughter was happy. That I had seen her dancing with my father just the night before. Of her being happily wed, of all my brothers and sisters.

Irina was overcome with emotion, trembling and with tears freely falling. I kept repeating that my mother would be alright, that my mother is safe and loved. That she has all of us. I held my grandmother closely, my eyes seeming to close. I remember hearing her say a weak but heartfelt, "Thank you."

~*~

When my eyes opened again I was in the black void. I instantly called out the Coywolf's name, only now had I noticed that he hadn't been with me when I saw Irina. I was too overcome with her emotions as well as with my own. I could hear a sniffing sound, so I followed it and found a fox sniffing at another hole the mole had dug. I saw the mole vanish down into it.

"Down here, Child of the Forest. You found the void left in your soul, and rejected it." The fox spoke, as the Speaker of the Living. She reassured me that she wouldn't eat the mole and that I should go down the hole, for that is where the living awaited me.

I asked where the Coywolf was and the fox said he was down the hole. "He is wounded. It is not something we knew. That makes us think it is meant to be. That he came here, with you, so we would know."

~*~

My maternal grandmother passed away from her illness when my mother was too young to fend for herself. I had read the few writings my mother had of her childhood. It had been her way of telling my father of her life before he met her. It was a life where she had few choices, of abuse and manipulations. A past that lead her to embracing Darkness but with my father's aid, she distanced herself from it. As for my maternal grandfather, my mother knows nothing about him other than that is where the Netherese heritage comes from. We both didn't inherit our pale skin and dark hair from Irina. Nor did my mother's sorcery come from her own mother. She thinks I have my eyes from her father.

I left her. In Berdusk.

I'll forever be haunted by the memory of my mother sitting in her bed. Surrounded by pieces of paper. Her hair wild, her vivid green eyes seeing none of us except for short moments before she's gone again, somewhere else.

I had been away for too long. My father was travelling again with an old companion, despite his grey hair and the wrinkles on his brow, seeking aid in trying to find a way to help her somehow, anyhow. I tried to find my own way. I would have given everything, anything.

The Coywolf may keep saying that it wasn't my fault. But he didn't see what she had done, for my sake. The time when she saved my life and the only way she could in that moment was to invite Darkness back. How I felt her gaze on me, and a pull. How she had come so close to killing me too in that moment. How she cried out in anguish and agony, struggling.

No matter how much she or father tried to pretend that it was gone, it was always there. Lurking.

~*~

It took a while for the Coywolf to figure out where we were going and why. And he didn't want me to go. I remember being confused and then growing angered.


"You're against me doing something that isn't selfish. But how can I live with myself if I don't try to?"


That isn't where we ended up. We are here, instead. Lost on the way.

I try to comfort myself with that Timmy and his family will at least be able to look after young Jalamir if my parents cannot.





((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 #16 on: October 11, 2020, 05:49:12 PM »



[A watercolour drawing has been inserted between the pages. It is a portrait from the torso and above of a Barovian looking man with a dark tan. Dark wavy hair, near black, hang down to his shoulders. He wears a wreath on his head made of golden asters with gold ink and moon lovers flowers with silver ink. Woven between the flowers are both black feathers and white feathers. The man has a tidily kept short beard. His dull blue eyes appear to be looking down at something held in his hands, his expression is a contemplative one - as if he is seeking an answer to a mystery.

Behind him on one side the sky is dark and depicts the moon and the stars, silver ink marking out the moon. On the other side, the sun shines brightly with golden ink adding to the radiance.

In the bowl of his hands an emptied out, small pouch is held along with its cord - as if it would usually be hanging around the neck. Various small trinkets are spread out; aromatic herbs, feathers, and miscellaneous baubles. A deep black cloud rises from below, underneath the man's hands, threatening to envelop the hands and the contents of the pouch. Perhaps even the man itself with how a few shadowy tendrils seem to wrap around his arms.
]



In this place of memories I have rarely written of the more pleasant things. Perhaps I should?

But it isn't the pleasant things which haunt me at night, which impose themselves upon my mind even at waking hours.

~*~

Weddings are usually happy memories. I remember mine with fondness.

They were perhaps not typical words shared between a husband and wife but they were words of love.

I never thought I would be someone's wife or have someone to call a husband.

Not because I had never been asked but because I never could envision myself like that.

~*~

We had spoken of his troubles and how his greatest regret might be that he might not be able to fulfil his promise to me, that he might run out of time.

I told him I would no longer be afraid of the answers, that I will look for them. That even if he couldn't be around to help me, I would whisper them on the wind for him.


"You shouldn't say that. You make it sound like the rest of your days in this place will be spent thinking about me, and that sounds far too sad."


He was pained but I remember I laughed softly and told him that I was already thinking about him every day and surely that could not be something sad. That he would be in my heart wherever he was - and that I would think of him as much as I pleased.


"What if I told you to marry me."


It wasn't quite a question. Perhaps he did not dare to ask it like that. I didn't give an immediate answer to it, either. Instead we spoke about it, what it meant. What if he would be stuck with me for longer than a week or two? ... "Am I not already stuck with you?"

He rambled a bit about the ring his father had made for his mother, a simple wooden band. As if the ring was too simple, that he should get something more valuable.

I could think of no better way to honour their love, as tragic as it was.

~*~

I never told him but when we looked at each other in silence I could hear the Lecturer's word in my head.

"You say no to a lot of things... you can say no to a million things Liss, just find that one thing you can say yes to. One thing that is different... that is a change. That entices you to stay instead of go. To dig in and protect instead of flee."

I didn't want to run any more.

So I said yes.

Yes, that I would stay. That I would dig in and protect him in the ways I could.


I'm afraid that I cannot. That it will not be enough. I don't know what will be enough.

~*~

It is not about saving lives, it is about saving souls.

~*~

I'm not sure we quite spoke of the wedding as a farewell to the friends who attended, if the worst was to come. A time to smile, to laugh, to dance. To look back to when the Darkness threatens to suffocate. To not forget life.

Yet. Somehow. It seems it was forgotten.


"You've married a man that has become quite bleak."


It was a conversation I hadn't imagined I'd ever have yet I think we both spoke with openness and honesty. No animosity. Just pain and grim thoughts of what still lies ahead.

I told him that I wanted to do more.


"Maybe you will. We'll see, in time."

He spoke words of how he saw me. Things he had known about me before I knew them about myself.

~*~

I still carry the ring. Miri's ring. The one she never wore. He wanted me to, and I do so gladly still.

Its symbolism is more than the moon lover and I's love for each other.

Love is a powerful force but it cannot overcome everything.

~*~

[The following sentences appear to have been added some time later to the entry.]

"I do know that his fate is not sealed."


Those were the words that gave me Hope.

...Hope needs to be nurtured...

~*~

"You do not need to be a person of faith to believe it, you simply need to be worthy of help when you are desperate for it. There are things that can defy the Mists, and protect those who are deserving."


I hear the words over and over in my mind, as a soft whisper.


"This is my final plea to you... to one not blinded by faith and dogma to still accept hope and light... ...."

~*~

Maybe the Laughing Shadow is right about some things.

"Gods are the faces put on the song of souls, or for some, the screams."

~*~

I want to feel the wind.




« Last Edit: October 11, 2020, 05:52:00 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 #17 on: October 17, 2020, 07:30:26 PM »
[Spirit Journey - The Living - 3:1]





It was a long earthy and rooty tunnel. At its end, I pushed up a large floor slab to emerge within a large stone building with a vaulted ceiling. There was chanting in the background. Above me there were people stood in shadows, looking down. Offering their judgement. Only one was clear to my eyes. A priest of the Just God - Tyr.

[A charcoal painting has been added between the pages. It depicts a priest in his holy vestments. He's in his fourties with short-cropped hair and a hardened expression made more severe by harsh shadows. The other figures are less precise and mostly cast in the darkness but there's a discernable hostility from their stance.]

I was looking to escape the same way I had come from but it had vanished. I heard him speak then.


"Your recklessness and selfishness hurts all around you. You heed nothing, and are never grateful for what people do."


The words were harsh, as if offering a sentence. I noticed that I was dressed in a penitents robe.

The priest went on.


"You are a danger, but we have spared you. I hope you will understand our mercy and learn."


I had turned my gaze back to him. Fury and hatred rising from within me, directed at his words.


"Do you have anything to say? Will you swear penance and beg forgiveness?"


Only then did I speak.

With venom.


"I will not beg."


The priest went on, declaring all my faults. How they had been so merciful in letting me still live.

The large doors behind me opened.

I didn't hold back with what I said in return.


"You think your words make you sound merciful. They do not. You can't kill me because then people will know you for what you truly are."


I turned my back to him, to the others in the shadows. They didn't prevent me from leaving or seek to cause harm.

I found myself on the streets of the city in the cold lands I thought I had left.

I spat on those cursed cobblestones.

~*~

I have travelled far and wide in Faerun. I've encountered many faiths and churches. I grew up in a family with two clergy members as parents.

I never regained my trust for any organised faith. Milil, the Lord of Song, he has his temples and they can be beautiful but they weren't places I frequented. My reverences were given whenever song and music was played.

Then I arrived to these lands.

The sanctuaries of the Morninglord were a safe place from the horrors of the night. They began to feel comfortable, and warm, and loving. The people there made it so.

The meals and teas shared in the kitchens. The lessons at the table. The tears, the laughter.

The darkness of these lands felt like something I could overcome.

Until the Lecturer told me the words he did when I was in desperate need of aid, trying to do the rights things.

The aid denied, only coldness given as a response.

I couldn't return to the temples. They didn't feel safe any more. The memories of the past flooded back.

Now he is likely dead.

The temples still feel hollow and cold.

The people now strangers with their own judging stares.





((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 #18 on: November 06, 2020, 12:59:30 PM »
[Spirit Journey - The Living - 3:2]





The sun shone over the city and people went about their day. My heart was bitter and fear clutched it.

I wasn't safe here.

It was when I was heading towards one of the gates I saw someone I didn't expect. Coram. My brother, my twin. He was clad in dark robes and a hood, which he had thrown back in order to better stare up at a mage tower. While I had taken much after mother in appearance, he had taken more after father. Sunkissed skin and a soft face.


"Hello Dethliss. How tall do you think this is? The architecture is quite curious, it's one of the oldest buildings in the city they say."

[There's a watercolour painting of a slight, awkward looking man with soft facial features and tanned skin. His eyes are a warmer shade of blue than Liss' own and his hair is a dark brown.]

I tried to tell him that we needed to hurry, that we weren't safe. He was familiar, and yet unfamiliar. When I think of Coram I can picture him clearly in my mind's eye but then and there it was as if he was ever-changing but not quite... I just couldn't properly remember his age or anything much else about him.

I was tugging on his sleeve and becoming increasingly desperate in my need to leave this place but he kept brushing off my concerns.


"I think it is an elaborate construct of your subconscious anxieties, and the horrible things that happened here. I think that's why I decide to blow them up."


He flicked his hand and a fireball erupted against the side of the tower. I watched, mouth agape.


When I could speak, I remarked on that he was aiming at the wrong place. That it wasn't the church. "...although a woman there tried to kill me."


He drew a line down from the sky with his hands and a column of white light came with it, the width of the tower, obliterating it and disintegrating it into dust. It was like no spell I had ever witnessed before.


"You try it." As if it had been so simple.


"...I don't know spells like that..." I answered him.


"I don't either. I don't think we're playing by any rules because we are in your head, and you aren't good with rules."


I copied the gesture he had done but towards the large church behind us, with its spires rising tall over the city. It was a stunning display. Watching it all turn to nothing. It pleased me. It was fun.

And then I became concerned with that we were actually killing everyone. Everyone within. Coram tried to point out that it wasn't real but it felt real.

I then recalled I needed to find Kerdic. When I asked Coram about him, he started to pace like father does. He flicked his wrist and immolated a mob of city watchmen and knights that were charging at us.


"I say, I feel positively Thayan. It's actually quite good to help understand their mentality."


A pack of clergy of different gods congregated and their combined prayers rang out, with various invocations of the gods releasing bursts of divine energy. With a different flick of his hand, they were all frozen solid in stasis. Coram had tired of pretend-killing.

As he helped me search for Kerdic all around the city, bolts thrown at us from atop rooftops were turned to dust and the crossbowmen became like tiny toy soldiers.


"I wish it was this easy, really." Coram remarked after yet another powerful display.


When I said that this kind of power was rather frightening, he clicked his finger and everything around us ceased to move. Similar perhaps to a Time Stop spell. We then continued our search unhindered.

We reached a hedge-maze outside the city and that was when Coram paused and said that this is where we would part. In the distance I could see all sorts of creatures from the forests running towards us, some twisted and dark. He would fight them from me, to keep them from harming me. There was no doubt in my mind that he was capable of holding them off me.

 I embraced him and told him I had missed him. "Don't worry, this is all just symbolic. Metaphors are big in tribal societies."

I headed into the thick, dark foetid maze. It was nothing like I remembered and the sky ahead was growing darker...

But I wasn't afraid any more.

~*~

I miss you.





((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 #19 on: November 18, 2020, 03:20:18 PM »
[Spirit Journey - The Living - 3:3]





The maze grew darker still and somehow, I found myself in the cold catacombs of a crypt.

I heard water ahead and followed the sound. What I found were shattered skeletons and splashes of blood. A figure was slumped against the far wall. Magical blue flames were illuminating hide lamellar and a silver axe.

I called out for Kerdic's name and he responded, the blond hair now visible under the helmet he wore.


"You should not be here. I am not strong enough to protect you," he spoke with fear in his voice.


I made my way over to him, concerned for his state - as there was blood splashed down his chest. His armor was rent and he was wounded. I was also annoyed, because he had got himself into a situation which I needed to rescue him from, somehow.


"The wound, it is deep. I have lost so much." I knew then, that he wasn't speaking of the physical wounds I saw on him but the wounds which cut more deeply, into his soul.

I chided him for moping, for seeming to just give up. "Stop sulking and help me get you up."


"Larkka is here somewhere. I can't feel her in my heart, so she must be here."


Larkka of the Stars.


I struggled to get him up, he was leaning heavily against me and the weight was much for me to manage. "Larkka isn't here. She ran away. Don't you remember? She wrote a stupid note and left."

"It hurts. There is death here. I am cold, here. Is it where I am meant to be? I am too heavy." He stumbled and walked slowly, blood oozing from his wounds.

"No, you're meant to be with the tribe. I don't know why I found you moping here." My words managed to get to his pride at last and he straightened up with a growl - saying that I was the moper instead.

With further encouragement he walked with more strength, the wounds slowly closing up. With one non-moping foot in front of the other, we managed to get out of that horrid place. He even joked about the form fitting black leathers I'd taken to wearing for a while. In fact, when I looked down at myself I was wearing them in the moment.

"But you still sing. Don't you?" He asked, looking at me.

"Of course," I answered, for I would always sing.


"...I...didn't know they'd make you take..."

He never finished the sentence but I knew where his thoughts had gone. I looked back at him and he was the Coywolf again.

"Great, you'll move better with four feet than two," I remarked as we continued on, with the void surrounding us once again.


[There's a watercolour painting inserted between the pages of Kerdic looking at least five years younger standing by a river in the wilderness. He's laughing, shoulder-length blond hair unbound and blue eyes mirthful.]


~*~

I know he aches, that he is wounded. Differently this time but Sasha was always tribe to him.

It's difficult to know what to think or feel about all of it.

Whenever I saw Sasha, I saw the deep wounds she caused.

Barovia saw the best of her - and that is something I'm glad for.

They saw not her darkness and her shadows but her light. In the end, I hope she chose right.


I'm not sure we'll ever find out what really happened and why she stepped into the carriage.

Any answers won't change that she is dead, as are Sebastian, Florette and Alin.


Where will our steps lead us to next?





((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 #20 on: December 29, 2020, 08:40:54 PM »



[Most of the entry is written in Balok.]

"Tell me, traveler. Do you know how to kill a god?"

A sudden question asked by a troubled soul. I know of some ways but whether they are true here or not is something I'm less sure of. Even then, if killing gods was easy it would be done more often.

It was a chance meeting on a spring day, the white vistan's tear bloom plucked from the ground and in my hand before I noticed them both. She was surrounded by shadowy fire, an unsettling nimbus of darkness which was made even more disturbing by the baleful energies I could sense from the dagger in her hand. He was... just a man. A lost, broken man.


~*~


"I was given a choice. And I chose peace."

"For myself."

"For those who stood by me."

"For those who took everything from me."


~*~


"They have stolen my music from me, Feydancer."

The other words shared had all been said with an attempted air of stoicism but it all fell away when he spoke these. His voice wavered. The way he looked at me was intense, the open wound and the turmoil in his very soul laid bare.


He questioned me. Why. What. Who.


I had laid a hand over his heart and bid him to listen. To listen for the music, for he'd still hear it.


There was a change within him. What it will lead to I don't know.


~*~


A worn magical blue rose was presented to me, after a moment of hesitance.

I went to sing and play and dance. To share of sorrow, of joy, of love. To let the wind carry the sound, to let it caress the rose.


~*~


His words still resonate in my mind.

"After a life of only Death, I want life for the few that I have come to value. A small ray of light in the void that I have been cast into."

I cannot believe that this is a world of only Darkness and Death.

I cannot.


~*~


"There are people who would give everything to battle the Darkness, to protect an enemy as much as a friend."

I hear his voice too.


"...become a protector yourself."


~*~


I looked at Death, I had touched his hand and I had touched his heart.


"But what have we, if not the will to /try/? What would it all have been for?"



Perhaps the words were a reminder for himself but they were a reminder for me, too.



[A watercolour painting has been inserted between the pages. A man's face is painted on the paper. His skin is unusually pale, contrasted by the dark hair which is tied back. The eyes are a dull, nearly colourless blue tone and betray deep emotion - as does his expression. A confusion of sorrow and anguish, a pain that is tried to be kept hidden but refuses to in the moment. From one eye, a few tears trickle down the cheek. As the teardrops leave the cheek, they are transformed to vibrant blue rose petals and carried away by the wind.]




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 #21 on: January 09, 2021, 03:02:02 PM »
[Spirit Journey - The Unborn - 4:1]





In this void a falcon appeared and flew circles around us. I held out my arm and it landed there, the talons pressing into my skin but not too tightly.

"Cool winds," the falcon said. "The unborn are ahead. Be careful what you agree to."

"I'll try to keep it in mind," I promised the bird. It flapped its wings and took to the air again.

Another crawl hole had appeared, with snow spilling out of it. The mole was there, of course, and burrowed itself into the drift as I was looking.

By now I felt somewhat confident that I knew how all this worked. With the feymilk's effects still strong, I crawled through the increasingly colder hole whilst at the same time cursing through chattering teeth.

Before me was a white plain, crisp and unblemished.

The Coywolf was beside me. I wore nothing but the painted symbols that had been drawn on me in the tent and cursed again. "I should skin you for your fur."

There was a growl-whine from him at that idea. We began to look around in this foreign snowy landscape. With each step, it seemed as if the snowfall was getting denser.

It was becoming more dangerous and to not lose each other, I dug one hand into the fur at his neck and held on tightly as he led me. We were both nearly blinded by the snow.

There was a figure ahead, a lone traveller.

Someone to greet, I had first thought. The figure was coming towards us and we could see that its feminine naked body was carved from ice, skin encrusted with snow. It was not human but was the perfect copy of one - like a frozen, walking statue. A familiar one. There was a gaping hole in the chest where the ribs had been torn open and the heart removed.

Whatever this thing was, it was not Katherine and it meant us harm.

"So easy to forget me?" Its voice was like the screeching of the wind. "So easy to turn to another?"

The Coywolf moved between me and it.

I remember my sorrow the most. She hadn't been a being of ice and cold. I tried to gesture towards this anomaly in the way that Coram had back in that city.

Nothing happened.

"Do you truly love anything or anyone? Or is it all just what feels good in the moment?" The voice now sounded like the cracking of laketop ice.

I repeated the gesture as it continued to advance, bringing with it a snowstorm that made the air even colder and the snow thicker.

Again my gesture did nothing.

I quickly threw a snowball at the icy shape in defiance, "You're not her."

"What did you really give me? What did you cause me but confusion? Maybe I'd have lived if I wasn't distracted." The snowball struck true but did nothing to cease its advance.

The Coywolf snarled and lunged at the walking ice statue but a sudden gust of wind picked him up from the air and threw him into a nearby drift.

My fear gave way to anger, even as I knew there was nothing I could do against this thing. "Tell all the lies you want but I know the truth."

I went to where the Coywolf had been flung and told him to hold back, trying to think of another way. I didn't want him to give up his life for this thing.

He then pushed his weight against me, trying to knock me down into the snow.

I looked at him for a moment before I let him.

There, in the cold snow, I curled up with him lying over me and offering me his warmth.

After a while, it wasn't cold any more.

We began to feel the heat of the sun.

Instead of screeching icy winds we now heard beautiful birdsong.

~*~

The Coywolf and I had drifted apart. We had both been wounded, and had also wounded each other.

Trust had been broken that needed to be mended.

Over the years, we grew closer again. We rebuilt that trust which was lost.

He still claims to hold true to his promise. Even with wife and child.

I have always felt that it'd be very selfish of me to call upon the promise.

Yet I did.

Now I hesitate for both me, and him.


[A curled up coywolf in a pile of snow, with snow dusting its fur has been painted on the page in watercolour. It bares its teeth in a protective warning.]


There is something about those things which end too quickly.

A breath.

And it is gone.

I remember her pain, her sorrow. I remember the choice she made. To turn from the cold to the warmth.

The Frostmaiden never claimed her heart. Never shall the Frostmaiden claim my own.





((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 #22 on: September 09, 2021, 01:06:51 AM »



These pages have been empty for a while. Perhaps reflecting something within me.


"Blood begets blood, and a pound of flesh requires recompense in return."


Those were Madame Vadoma's words. From the first time she uttered them and till the day had come, he had changed so much. The coldness in the way he looks at me is much the same as it was even when he was still alive. There is a cruel pain that comes with it. That even in death he is as he was in his last moments. His indifference.

There were times I saw him, while he still took breath, when I wanted to ask whether the love had ever been true. I never did, for what would the purpose have been? Questions asked by a shattered heart with no answers that could be given which could heal.

The day of the sacrifice he barely exchanged words with me and there was only a fleeting look before he walked to his presumed death. My words and my plea to him hours before as if it was unheard. He carried the Darkness with him, touched by it. I knew he would face his greatest struggle and that it was a time for him to choose who he was. Despite everything, I did not want for him to face it alone.


"If you falter and invite more corruption and darkness.... I alone cannot prevent or do anything to that... but I will try, and I will try to be there if you stumble. We all will be."


I carried hope but I also carried fear. I saw him walk into the shadows and feared the worst.

~*~

Her old eyes always bore right into me, as if they could see what hid in the deepest recesses of my very soul.


"Will you serve as guiding light once more, despite the choices wrought in darkness and love cast aside?"


I spoke as I felt, even as the words were heavy.


"I fear I couldn't be the guiding light I wished to be in life. It seems wrong to cease to try, now."


I tried.

We tried.

We failed.

This is perhaps my greatest sorrow.

~*~

It's so very easy to see him as a man who cared for nothing and no one. To feel the pain and turn it to bitterness and anger and resentment.

I have the Coywolf's words in my head.

That they had been watching for a long time. Whispering.


"Maybe that he came so close to choosing the light is a miracle already."

~*~

There was sorrow in her own heart, too.


"It seems that once more your guiding light is necessitated by the divergent path of the one whom once held your heart."

~*~

The Coywolf was pained. He did not want this, neither did I.


"It is asking you to be of the Broken God. It is a lot to ask."


His expression was that of conflict. He was the Skaldguard, oathsworn since we were children to protect me from harm.


"It is not for you to suffer. I do not want that to be how the world is."


~*~

I voiced my question quietly, the answer obvious to us both.

That first feeling of selfishness, but we know the answer.

The truth.

The truth, even if it hurts.

The Coywolf then said words with conviction.


"When you sing and bring joy to hearts, they lose... and no matter what you lose, I will not turn from you. Ever. But this is a truth. Whatever part of you is lost, what remains, it will be of the light."


I would like to believe.

~*~

My doubts come creeping in, my fears and insecurities. What if it was too late, what if I would not know -how-?


"That is a problem for tomorrow."


We will stand to see if trust is justified.


~*~

I made a promise, as we were bound in marriage. The red cord sealing it.


"This is not a symbol of faith I give to you but a piece of myself, who I am, what I stand for and my love for you."

"That I would wish for us to share each other's burden's on life's path, no matter where that path leads us down."

~*~

"And they all learned chains could be broken."


[A watercolour painting is placed between the pages of the journal. It depicts the upper half of a male figure wearing a hood, most of his face in shadow. Bright red orbs shine with menace where his eyes should have been. His face is gaunt and twisted, with pale grey dessicated flesh. He is scowling but there is something very subtle, perhaps in the tilt of his head or the curl of his lips, that speaks of sorrow. His dark clothes are worn and stained with dirt. Several worn and some decaying trinkets and charms adorn his person, all reminiscent of the Vistani style. His right arm is extended and in long, elongated fingers which end in sharp claws he is delicately holding a freshly picked moon's lover flower out to someone unseen as an offering. His left arm is held closer to his chest, his hand open and with a red cord woven between his fingers, frayed ends trailing down and blown to one side by unseen wind.]

[On his left shoulder, a small cowled and robed old woman is stood and reaching out to pull aside the fabric of his hood, as if to whisper in his ear. Her garb is plain and unremarkable and what hair is seen is wispy. Her eyes appear to lack irises, almost giving the appearance of being blind. Her features are aquiline and decidedly Vistani. There is a sinister twist of her lips.]

[On his right shoulder, a small nude woman is dancing without any care and paying no attention at all to the man. Her long dark hair and her limbs cover and maintain some modesty in the painting. A loose shawl barely clings to her shoulders. The aquiline features and the small stud in her nose give of a Vistani appearance. Her expression is coy but the slant of her eyes and twist of her lips hints at dark promise.]




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 #23 on: October 01, 2021, 05:29:22 PM »
[Spirit Journey - The Unborn - 4:2 - Fin?]





We were in a forest glade surrounded by blooming flowers on a warm summer day. The Coywolf was smelling them, grumbling uncertaintly as if there was a scent he could not quite place. I was wearing a pretty red and gold dress. As I was petting the Coywolf to soothe him a nightingale in a nearby tree burst out in song.


Song for me.

A beautiful song of...

...Love....

...Bittersweet melancholy...

...Happiness...

...Memories...

It was Life.


It touched me so deeply and words came to me, the music of the bird becoming the music of the song.

I sang out aloud and it flew to sit on my shoulder.

I picked flowers from the ground. These I wove into the Coywolf's fur and my own hair. I bid him to sing along with me.

The bird took flight, to land on another branch. Still singing.

We danced around the tree, both of us. Me singing and laughing and him howling as he ran in circles.

It was such a carefree moment. As if we had found a sanctuary. It was as if we could have stayed like that forever.

Yet it was not to last.


Clap. Clap. Clap.

~*~

"Who do you dance for?" I had asked.


"My whim."

~*~

I think back to that song and moment often when my spirits feel down. I do not think I will ever feel as safe and carefree as I did then but the memory of it still soothes.

Life is not only made up of the sweet notes but also the discordant ones.

~*~

It pains me each time to ask for the Coywolf's aid but it is always given without hesitation. There is none who knows me as well, and certainly none in these lands who has known me for so long.

~*~

"Ask yourself how many times you have fought for her and bled for her, how many times you have stood between her and despair, how many times you have stayed loyal to her no matter how much it has hurt. Ask yourself how many times coincidence brought you to her just when she needed, and ask yourself which spirits you meant when you said you followed them."

~*~

"You are the Feydancer. What can truly trap you? Not man, not place, not fey."

"You will always dance."

~*~

As the Joybringer teaches: "Let folk follow their own desires, and never fail to follow your own."

~*~

Five big eyed boggles,

Sat on a boggly log,

Eating some most delicious bugs.

Yum yum!

One jumped into the pool,

Where it was nice and cool,

Then there were four big eyed boggles.

Glub glub


[A loose piece of paper is inserted between the pages of the journal. Upon it is an >>odd creature<< painted in watercolour. Large ears, dark blue skin, gleaming yellow eyes and a big grin. Its form was hunched, with overlong arms. Underneath it are a couple of words. "I am the cold morning. I am the rainy day. I am hope becoming acceptance."]







((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 #24 on: October 28, 2021, 01:04:03 AM »



"This is real."

I held the light in both hands, looking down at the warm glow.


"The light that comes from it is untainted by the Mists and the Darkness."


He gave it to me so that I could look at it and know that there is something willing to give up everything to protect this land and the people.

Nothing but a thought, an idea, a thing, a being, something...


"But it is real."

~*~

To become it. To foster it.

...

...

...

I failed.

The warm glow doesn't comfort me as it once did.

I walked into that foul place. That place of darkness, sorrow, rage, abandonment ...

It was not enough. I was not enough.

I don't know what will be enough.

How much more ...

When will it be enough.

~*~

"I do know that his fate is not sealed. Not unless he continues to choose, rage, hatred, revenge, ambition, lust, greed... selfishness."


And that is what he did choose.

What he always chose.


... or did he?...

The Coywolf said the Moon Lover died with light in his heart.

Yet the whispers and the tendrils of shadow and darkness reached for him.

~*~

The old man shared his vision.


"A singular flicker of light in a sea of darkness, may be the beacon that leads someone out of the pitch of dark. Changes lives."


This is what I held to. Clung to in any moments I wavered.

A flicker, a guiding light - even if small ...

It was not enough.

I was never enough.


"You are a beacon of life and light and all those who are in your proximity are touched by that brilliance."


The words were painful to hear.

If they were true I would not fail over and over again.

If it were true I would have succeeded... but I didn't.

~*~

I feel... empty, drained. Hollow. Likely not in the way the raunie spoke of.

What is left to do now?

To wait and hope he finds his end by some other means?

What else? To pick up the blade and run him through with it myself...? I can only see that ending with my own demise.



I'm not sure I can face the raunie ever again.




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."