Daolyth's Diary - April 1113 - Mithras Preceptory in Mauritania

We have survived Arrakech and I am taking time to rest in the Unicorn's Preceptory before returning to Lantia and checking the leys to confirm all the Lions returned home safely. The transportation from the island prior to it's disappearance did not go according to plan and I was surprised to be one of the first ported from that place. To my relief, Apsenniel was transported also, but we arrived in Mauritania of all places and with a rather disparate group of individuals, some of whom proceeded to transport out to Teutonia.

An odd conclusion to a sometime's harrowing campaign.

Yet it proved a valuable experience for me.

Saturday afternoon's resolution of the alchemical problem made me realise that I don't value my own intellect enough and that many people are idiots and need to leave me in peace. When I have quiet and space to think, the speed at which my thought processes can move amazes even me. I wish I had the ability to think on my feet as some do, but I wouldn't trade the ability to think things through absolutely for that. So that suits me best. Give me space. Give me peace. Give me all the research material without anyone fiddling with all the papers or misunderstanding what I am saying and I will get whatever it that needs be thought about, done.

I like the feeling of certainty at responding to the question "how do you know this is correct?" with the answer "because I did it."

Why have I not noticed this before?

Amidst the battle on Saturday night, Apsenniel and I found time to speak about the events at Caras Estarwae. The substance of the discussion is less significant as to how I felt afterwards.

I realise that whatever I will be in this life, it will never be someone who has a home and leaves a life of peace and quiet. I will never have a family other than that of my Order, my faction and my bloodline. As much as the idea of an existence indulging myself in hours of idle and engrossing research might appeal, the only reason it does appeal is because of its scarcity. I could never live that way indefinitely. It is not in my nature. There is too much to see and do in the world. Too much that needs to change. To be challenged.

I need friends and comrades for this. I need troops at my command. That is the sort of family I need.

The discussion with Apsenniel also made me realise I was wrong, hugely presumptively so, to think that I should be the only one to worry about the other's safety. To be the only one to put themselves at risk for the other. It is not my decision to make and prejudges that another should see me as less worthy, just because I want them to do so. I have to live and die by the actions as others as much as they do mine. 

I feel my confidence returning. A certainty I've not felt in some time.

Daolyth's Diary - High Feast of Surya

I am not proud of what I have done nor will it bring me any joy, but watching Apsenniel put herself in danger for my sake has become more than I can bear. I so desperately want to keep her safe and yet the thought of her imperilling her life to save me because I have fallen to keep her safe......it destroys me. I do not doubt that she would attempt to overcome any obstacle to rescue me and that...........is not acceptable. Not at the cost of her life.

Speaking to Red about Arrakech, I realised how much in danger we will be. How can I keep her safe, if she insists on coming after me while I try to discharge the duty Red has asked of me? I feel such fear at that thought. I cannot sleep.

When I entered the dream of the golden elf, I saw a world so bright, so beautiful, it overwhelmed me. I realised how far from her I am. How far from walking in light I am. Nin rochben en dae she calls me, yet I am weak. When I look at Rurik, at the Paladins, at Tyriel, at Lazarus and at Duibhre, I see capable people worth saving. That isn't me. I'm a shield, nothing more.

The fortune Taci'bien read for me told of betrayal. The pain in Apsenniel's voice when she thought of how she might hurt me, what others might make her to do me. That again was unbearable. Why should she be tormented by such thoughts when she has burden's enough already? I do not believe that she ever could do such a thing and yet...........and yet, she worries. It is too much.

It took a lot of alcohol to do what I did. Although not too much to make it impossible. Fitting in some respects that Taci'bien should be the means by which I debased myself. She seemed to enjoy herself enough not to notice my discomfort or feigning of delight. Liora seemed utterly oblivious. They hurt me, but probably less than I deserved. The experience was disturbing. Not even possessing the gratification of the women we'd buy after battle when I served with the Wolverines. I like Taci'bien and there is a sickness in my stomach about how I have used her. But it is done now and I have only begun to face the consequences.

The look on her face when I told her. I do not believe this can be forgiven and it should not be. To put me beyond betrayal and Apsenniel beyond guilt. At least I can defend her now knowing she will let me be unless circumstances permit an easy and safe rescue. That is a measure of peace. And she will feel no sadness when I am gone. Another pain spared her.

Maybe my presence on campaigns will keep her away? That is a comforting thought, but an unlikely reality, because she will go wherever she is needed regardless. Still, it could happen.


I have snuffed out the only light in my life for the sake of it continuing to burn for a world that needs it.

I can live with the consequences of my actions as long as she continues to live.

I will defend her as a shadow and then at least I will be half of what she thought me to be. Of the shadows. But not a knight.

I will miss her terribly.

Daolyth's Diary - March - Northern Taureanna

Snow? In March?

I'm regretting not taking the option of the transport beacon direct to Caras Estarwae now. I'm stuck atop a flet in a blizzard. Fortunately this flet has a shelter and I have supplies.

But I can barely see the foot of the tree, let alone anywhere else.

Daolyth's Diary - March - Northern Taureanna

Tariel was kind enough to perform the transport rite for me to the Taureanna circle, but could not be persuaded to join me for the high feast of Surya. I suspect that fact that I intend to walk to Caras Estarwae in part put her off, but I could sense her hesitance was more than that. A fear of the unknown? I was dismissive of it at the time, now I feel that I should've paid more attention.

For now, I am far from at ease.

The waywardens near the transport circle were kind enough to provide me with directions and other useful information to ease my travels. Apparently my name is known to them, thanks to the waywarden I met at the Gorsedd and my appearance distinctive. They know that technically, these lands are my home and as such have extended me the courtesy of their protection while in Taureanna. I declined the offer of a guide, as I am not in the mood for new company, but their advice was welcome. Which places to avoid, which paths to use and how to recognise the trailsigns that locate the treebased flets they use to overnight in the wilderness. I am writing from one of these flets now. They are strangely comfortable and could readily accommodate a few individuals, with space for a fire. I am very grateful for the time spent alone on Amnor learning how to light the wretched things.

I also have iron, flint, tinder and other fire making tools in my backpack as a matter of routine now.

The waywardens were non-specific as to whether anything in the wilderness could climb up to these flets. That is not an encouraging thought. I seem possessed of an abundance of these at present.

Taureanna is beautiful, but the land is possessed of a strange melancholy that I can best describe as "autumnal" even though I can see the signs of spring everywhere. There is not the same sensation of restless energy that heralds spring on Amnor, with the wild and tempestuous weather. The feeling here is somewhere between serene and languid. Maybe the melancholy is what I have brought with me? for as I have said, I am not at ease here.

Indeed, I have a sense of foreboding. A strong sense.

I do not know what to expect of the elves of Caras Estarwae and the other members of House Beru'thiel. Will they meet the expectations of the other Lions and be vain, condescending and aloof? Will they be possessed of a sense of racial superiority that is likely to provoke the non-elves in attendance? Am I going to spend my time trying to defuse disputes between different races because neither side will see sense?

More than that, I wonder what they will make of me, given what I look like and what I am. Not that I am any more certain as to what I am. Which in turn will make it all the harder to explain myself if I am asked or what my purpose is here. Just because I am of Beru'thiel does not mean they will or should welcome me.

To bodyguard Apsenniel in the city of her people? A nonsense. Surely she is safest here of anywhere in all the heartlands. I am little more than a redundancy in the unlikely event that the city should fall and every waywarden, guard, elf and Gryphon, should be sundered unto the earth.

I am an advisor? In a city of Elves who are millennia older than I and remember times I cannot even begin to conceive of. What use am I, who can barely recall his own life? let alone provide meaningful discourse on past history. I cannot read any of the signs written in Elvish. My ignorance is staggeringly offensive.

I have no rank no authority. Clara will speak on behalf of the Lions and I am nobody's emissary.

There is a part of me that thinks it would be enough to set my eyes upon the tower of Caras Estarwae and then turn away and head back to Amnor. Where I belong and at least provide some small use to the Order, the faction and the people of Lantia. Perhaps if the sky is clear tomorrow I will see the tower from atop this flet?

But I will go. I promised I would. If nothing else I will sit in on the council meeting and hear what the other elves do or do not have to say. If necessary I will share my thoughts and that will be enough. I can always leave once that is done.

Some warrior. Some "competent elf." I am barely arrived and already thinking of leaving. But, I felt more at ease in Teutonia than I do here.

Sleep will not be easy.

Daolyth's Diary - October 1112 - Irem Day 3

The Irem campaign is concluded and the Jackals have emerged victorious, in no small part thanks to the visitors from the other nations. I do not recall a point in the battle to contain the demon to become the new warleader for Irem where Apsenniel and I were not fighting toe to toe with the daemon's bodyguards or the daemon itself. I expended all my power and had exhausted myself by the time the deed was done.

Yet I feel no sense of racial superiority that Rebraal might attest to. Instead I found myself looking at the elves resident in the Jackals lands with an increasing sensation of annoyance and disdain.

They do nothing.

At least nothing I could see. Perhaps they operate industriously beyond the spectrum of visible light, but somehow I doubt it.

I will not claim that I have never seen a more useless group of arm waving, small minded, vacuous, ineffectual creatures, because the reality is they are manifest in all races. But, I had expected better from other elves. Apsenniel spent a great deal of time, speaking eloquently and with great passion, about awakenings only to be met with an infuriatingly muted response. I hold a far higher opinion of Burnscar than I do of these wretches, but then I've always believed in judging on merit rather than sweeping generalisations of race or respiration for that matter.

I'm really not sure these elves are the ones Rebraal has in mind when speaking about "elven superiority."

Did I mention they wear scarves round their head hiding their ears? Apparently we're supposed to instinctively be able to tell that they are Elves. How does that work? On what basis am I judging their elvishness?

Grace? - sadly lacking. Any suggestions of healthy diet and regular exercise have gone unheeded.
Drive? - mostly non existent, possibly due to the aforementioned.
Wisdom? -  not exactly the most inspiring 'brains trust.'
Combat Expertise - if I were reliant on such individuals for survival in a battle, I'd surely be dead.

Perhaps I am being unkind, but I am tired, grumpy and have an endless amount of paperwork awaiting me when I return to the preceptory, so I do not feel disposed to kindness at this time.

I do not include Al-Reisha as part of this ineffectual collective, although she is far too suspicious for my liking and constantly having to reassure her of my loyalty to Caleb is wearing. As is re-emphasising that marrying a human is not grounds for judging anyone. Marrying an idiot human, yes, that would be grounds for complaint, but then I fail to see how that is different from marrying an idiot elf. Or any other sort of idiot for that matter. 

*sigh*

It would be nice to state one's position before the accusation of being "a conclave elf" is levelled at you. I'm still not sure what one of those is or how many limbs it should have.

Daolyth's Diary - October 1112 - Irem Day 2

I nearly died. Alone. In the dark.

And she came for me.

I had failed her. The last thing I remember before my senses left me was seeing her fall to the ground from the daemon's magic and then I went away. I couldn't keep her safe. I failed her. I failed her. 

And then I fell and remembered nothing.

Nothing until I felt her arms around me, holding me up, telling me she couldn't do this without me. She hadn't come along, Fama and Anaeus were there, along with some of the Jackals. A formidable rescue party for one such as me. When did I acquire so much worth?

We did the only thing we could at that point, we carried on fighting. A force to be reckoned with. When we both fell a second time trying to defend Anaeus, the Jackals referred to us as "the elves." Apsenniel and I have set ourselves apart, although I had thought that was through dint of her actions and intellect, rather than my own.

Later, after all the battles were done, relaxing in our tent, Duibhre of the Accord referred to me as Apsenniel's "Elven Knight."  An unexpected compliment and one I was very touched by. I do not know if I have what it takes to be a "Knight" but I will give it my all in body, word and deed. I will find a way to be stronger protector for her, as much as an advisor and thinker.

The discussion with Burnscar, the unliving Skaven, made me reflect on how much some are prepared to sacrifice for the sake of a cause and the ones they care about. Apsenniel could barely bring herself to look at Burnscar, yet I found myself oddly touched by her self-sacrifice.

To what extreme's am I prepared to go to? Would I be willing to become something reviled by those I care about in order to protect them? To be hated and feared because one loves others more than oneself?

I do not know what I will become. All I know is that now, right now, I will die to keep her safe.

Daolyth's Diary - October 1112 - Irem Day 2

I am bone weary, for it has been a long day so far as Irem fell under attack shortly after sunrise. I was one of the few, the very few, in camp at the time the first waves of unliving assaulted us. At that point, I had thought perhaps my journey to the land of the Jackals would be cut very short indeed. Despite the presence of the Jackal's war leader and one other, I had not felt quite so alone in some time.

Fortunate, I suppose, that my warding spells were able to deflect the blows of the unliving, at least at first. Then I found myself struck hard from behind and assumed I had missed foes sneaking round behind me.

Instead it transpired to be a fae, dressed in the drab grey of the Accord, who Apsenniel had amusingly described as "the murder fae." I struggled to find my humour at this point, as being on the receiving end of murder during a pitched battle will do that to even this cynic. I compounded my annoyance by breaking my chant to inquire as to what prompted the assault.

To his credit, the Fae was apologetic. Apparently he had mistaken me for some sort of "dread overlord of the unliving." This is a compliment of sorts, although somewhat worrying at the same time. I've never really thought of myself as a "dread overlord" before or even considered that my appearance might provoke such a reaction. I will reflect on this further at a quieter moment.

Apologies concluded, the battle concluded, with more of the Jackals and other visitors making their appearences. By the time Apsenniel arrived, I had been fighting for quite some time and had expended a good deal of power. Her arrival cheered me somewhat, although she did gently chide me somewhat for my battle zeal. I took this with good grace, as the comments were well founded, although under the circumstances, about an hour too late. Of Squad D and Henry Kane there was no sign until some time after the battle, which was unfortunate, as the shield wall of the greenskins would've been a comfort. Both the squad and Henry seemed confused at my exasperation and exhaustion. This led to something of an "argument" between myself and Henry later, regarding my faculties as a "bodyguard" to Al-Reisha. Given his absence for the entirity of the morning's battle, I did not take kindly to such criticism and my have been immoderate in my use of language.

The day continued in a similar vein, with my growing frustration at the general inadequacy of the Jackals as a martial force (with but a few exceptions) and that most of the work appeared to be done by visitors. I was particularly struck by the effectiveness of the Accord, who fight with a mix of great finesse and brutal simplicity. The one they call Marius is deeply disturbing and of very quick temper. I have made a mental note to avoid offending him or indeed avoid any conversation at all. Their leader, Duibhre, at least seems rather more tractable and thoughtful. Other vipers, included the Starcraft and the House of the Serpent, also fought with considerable vigor, although I find Remus intensely, intensely annoying. He seems to derive amusement from viewing women as mere chattel. I am quite sure he is some way from what could be considered "sane" even by my standards.

Lady Fama remains intriguing. She possesses great intellect, but is emotionally quite detached. I find a strange complusion to test my mental capacity against hers, although I've yet to find a subject on which we might be equals. Interesting.

I am resting now or at least Apsenniel is. I believe the intent is that we should both recover our energies, but I find I cannot rest here. But I do feel at peace.

Watching Apsenniel at rest is a new experience. I have grown so used to her striding purposefully and everything she does she conducts with great vigour. I had wondered from where she derives such energy and it would appear she has a faculty for rest that I do not. I am somewhat envious.

Where does my energy come from I wonder? How do I keep going?

She looks so peaceful at rest and so free of care and worry, and I know she worries and cares a great deal. The world seems quite ready to place burdens upon Apsenniel's shoulders and she is unwilling to share them, for fear of burdening others. Does she not realise how much I and others want to aid her? Another puzzle. 

Time enough to ponder these mysteries later. I hear the alarm bell sounding in the Jackal's command tent and already there is the sound of movement in the woods outside the tent.  I would leave Apsenniel here at rest if I could, just to know that she is not carrying her burdens for a little while longer. However, I cannot leave her unguarded and asleep in the middle of a fight.

If we proceed cautiously, I'm sure everything will be fine.