The Spirit Who Walks

[*UQT]

Lannia came back from the armory with leathers and special set of light armor. She went to work recreating a set of armor that looked like the ceremonial garb her grandfather had worn. So much like his that it could have been his, but tailored to fit her. 

She slipped into it and buckled her belt as Derik entered. He looked at her oddly, “New armor or just reworked what you had.”

“It’s ceremonial,” She answered, “No time to explain. Gear up. We are going to Rauthym.”

At first he had argued, but as she strapped her shield across her back and explained that she had more visions and Cider said it was time, he began to strap on his gear. He grumbled that they should take more people with them, plan the trip some. This was sudden and reckless. 

She slid her greatsword, her longsword, and her best bow into place across her back. She packed healing kits, potions, and an arsenal of arrows. She looked to her beloved Derik and said, “You have always believed in me… Believe in me now. It is time to face him and to stand before the world tree.”

She talked as she walked outside about her latest visions. She told Derik her entire family tree, from Arlen Jerrogeon to herself. She grabbed ahold of him and whispered, “We will have more time to talk when this is done my warrior.” 

She touched the plant by their home and disappeared in a whirlwind of leaves. Once again they found themselves in the port village. Lannia walked to the town center. She had no fear this time, looking upon the faces of her people. She was no lost girl. She was a woman, a shaman with a divine purpose. 

“I am Lannia Tannen!” She announced confidently as ripples of disgusted whispers spread through the crowd. 

“SILENCE!” She howled, “My family is falsely accused and I demand my right to trial by challenge! I call out Uther Jerrogeon! Bring the snake to face me!”

She felt their eyes upon her, she heard the shocked whispers. No one dared to challenge the head of the temple of Umberlee. Her eyes washed over the growing crowd, and everywhere they spoke of how small she was. The madness must indeed be deep in her veins to challenge Uther. 

Still, some time passed and a ripple of activity shook the crowd in the distance. Her eyes strained into the horizon down the narrow roadway. Finally she could see people parting before a procession. At last a group of barbarians baring the symbol of Umberlee broke through the crowd into the square. The first two stopped, looked at her, and laughed. The taunted her for her small frame, and she snarled.

“I will prove my strength,” She growled, “Stand aside and let Uther face me… If he is not a coward.”

The guards filed into the square and created a human perimeter. She could see Derik’s ill ease as he was forced to stand in the crowd away from her. She met Derik's eyes and she smiled. 

Finally, Uther emerged. He was as big as any northman. He stood almost two heads taller than her and he drew a great two-handed axe from his back. He looked at her and chuckled.

“When they told me my mad brother's mad grand-daughter was back from the dead I laughed at them,” Uther said as he laughed, “But as I look on you now, there can be no doubt. Little Lani… How about a hug for your dear old great uncle?”

The tone was mocking. He spread his massive arms holding the two handed axe in one hand and flexing muscles upon muscles. Lannia stared at him, unflinching. She drew her longsword and her heavy shield and she said, “You set the drow, Marius, upon my village. You betrayed your own blood and he destroyed my village. Marius uses mind magic to hold my brother as her held me… As he used it forced my grandfather to slaughter his loved ones.”

Uther looked upon her with a cocky half smile, “Quite a story, little Lani.”

“Don’t call me that!” She shouted, “You -never- call me that! You were jealous of your brother, and WEAK! You called Marius upon us and now you will answer for your crime.”

She called the spirits of the storm and fire to her. Lightning licked from her form, twisting around flames as blinding as the sun. The crowd and the guards took a step back and she watched Uther’s expression lose confidence. She called the howling frozen winds to her blade and held it at his eye level. 

“I am Lannia Tannen,” She said confidently, “Daughter of Imogen and Carlin, granddaughter of Arlen and Tamara. I am a shaman like my grandfather before me. My grandfather… Whose love was powerful enough to break the drow’s enchantment and save me that I might return to face the man who soiled my family name. I am here for you, Uther. I am here for my family name!” 

She took a single step toward him, the ice on her blade crackling, the flames and lightning snapping around her, and blinding furious light pouring from her eyes. Uther took a step back and his voice cracked, “W-wait… I am much bigger than you, little girl, you sure you want to do this?”

“Trial by challenge,” she chanted and took another step the crowd joined her. 

“Trial by challenge, trial by challenge, trial by challenge!”

“I am the head of the temple of Umberlee!” He squeaked, “I am twice your size, don’t be a fool girl!”

She flew at him, her sword came down as his mighty axe came up. He shrieked as the blaze around her burned his forearms. When the lightning cracked at his weapon he was forced to drop it. It hit the ground with a clang and he hit his knees, “M-Mercy… MERCY! I yield!”

She brought her sword over her head snarling at him. He held his hands up over his face and began to beg, “I admit it! I gave information to the drow named Marius. I swear on the waves that did not know what he would do with it. I didn’t know you were alive! I swear I would have come for you! Please! I swear I didn’t know! Please!”

The growl resonated from deep in her stomach, and her sword began it’s descent.

“LANNIA!” Derik howled, and her sword struck the ground by Uther. 

She breathed deeply as the spirits left her. She looked into the terrified eyes of her uncle and said, “I will not lower myself to soak my blade in your filthy blood… Serpent, live in your shame, live knowing you couldn’t touch me, not even if you spent the whole of your existence trying to amass the power. You are hereby relieved of your post guarding the sapling of the world tree. If you are seen near it again, I will personally hunt you down… and end you. When you close your eyes, when you look into your darkest nightmares… Remember my face.”

He crawled away and his followers scattered after him as the crowd began to cheer and become rowdy. She held her sword high and howled, “I go to the sapling of the world tree. My sight is true and will lead me! If any remain that doubt the purity of my family name I invite them to come. Bear witness as I am judged and carve my name beside the name of my grandfather. Arlen Jerrogeon!”

And so a procession followed as much to be a part of the party that would surely erupt as to see if she would be judged pure by the world tree. The whole of them stood at its mighty base. As far as she looked to the right and to the left, she could not see the end of its massive trunk. 

She removed her glove, and by some magic she found herself directly before her grandfather’s name. She placed a hand upon his name and wept... 

And so her name joined his on the great tree, she left raised upon the shoulders of her northman brethren, carried off with Derik to drink and celebrate. 

The next morning Derik teleported them home. There were only two days left before their wedding.

[*UQT]

It was the final day before their wedding. Lannia and Derik spent most of the day in last minute alterations with tailors and tasting the food. Weary from planning, they went to the Muse for a little rest and relaxation.

Finding the muse empty Derik lit the torches as she sat at the bar. He leaned on the opposite side, playing bartender, and with a cocky half-smile asked, ”So gorgeous, what'll it be?”

How she loved that boyish grin of his. She answered, “Whiskey, love.”

Derik grabbed a bottle and two glasses. He set them down, popping the cork, poured three fingers into each glass before he set the bottle down and replaced the cork. Picking up his glass, he held it out towards her and said, “To us... Soon to be the best damn looking married pair on the whole damn Coast.”

“To us!” She cheered happily and raised her glass with a chuckle.

Derik chuckled back, clinking the glasses before downing his whiskey. Lannia was distracted by the opening of the front door. She looked to the door and smiled brightly at the stranger as he entered. Never missing a chance to be friend Lannia called out, “Hail! Come on in and welcome to the Muse!”

She then downed her whiskey in a single pull as Derik showed his hospitable side as well, “Heyo! Welcome to the Muse! I'm pretending to be the Bartender today, what can I get you?”

The large man walked in, greatsword slung over a shoulder. He approached the bar with a loud thud, thud, thud of his heavy boots. He looked around some before putting his attention back on the pair and said, “S'pose this will do, Somethin’ strong!”


Lannia took a moment to size him up. Derik stood near six and a half feet and this man was a good half head taller still. Thick furs did nothing to hide his frame which sported muscle upon muscle. Blinking she blurted out, “Woooah, make them big where you come from eh?”

He gave a boisterous laugh and smiled at her, “Aye that they do.”

Derik chuckled and asked, “Right then. Ale or liquor?”

“Ye have to ask?” The imposing man scoffed, “Ale, boy!”

“Well, you said something strong, so,” Derik shrugged, “Just making sure.”

Derik pulled a stein down and filled it up. He used one of the biggest steins he could find. Nearly overflowing with ale Derik thunked it down in front of the newcomer.

“About as stout-y as is gets,” Derik explained, “You'd have to go find dwarves to make anything stronger.”

The man took the stein and looked down at it, shrugging before gulping it down. Lannia tried to make small talk, “I'm small for where I come from. They used to pick on me for it. Called me Little Lani.”

She stood 5’8”. She was tall for a woman but small for her northman heritage. Still, she blushed and straightened a bit, suddenly a bit self-conscious. The man’s eyes flicked up to her with recognition his deep voice rumbled, “Little Lani, eh? So you are Lannia… Heard you had a bit of a journey recently.”

Derik went back to his own glass, pouring himself another shot of whiskey. Lannia puffed up and beamed a smile, “Heard of me? I've had many journeys, most recently to Rauthym. Hey, Derik, I'm famous!”

She winked at her warrior and laughed happily. The man sat down with a thud, smiling over at the woman. He flashed a rather dashing smile and said, “Heard of ye? Why you are the reason I sailed all this way!”

His laugh echoed off the walls. Lannia blinked and looked at the large man oddly before asking, “The reason you sailed this way? You need help with something? A spirit matter? Maligned spirits stalking your tribe? An old curse perhaps?” 

Derik looked the man over, “Well, it's probably not because he needs someone to stab something...” 

“I gathered by the look of him,” She agreed, “Though I do stab things well too.”

She laughed and Derik nodded, “You do indeed. You get the award of the ‘most progressed Bladestone Student.’”

The man let out another hearty laugh, “Nothing like that, lass. Names Halred the Axe, perhaps you have heard of me?”

“No, can't say I have,” Lannia answered with a light frown, “But if you are known in Rauthym, please forgive me, I've only recently visited after being gone 17 years.”

Halred, who was now paying little attention to Derik, held out his stein absently, “Thing’s got a hole in it lad, how about another? The mugs here are so tiny.”

“Yeah, well, the owners are from Luskan,” Derik said with a good-natured chuckle, “What can you expect?” 

Derik grabbed the stein and tapped her lisp, “Wait... Halred... I think I remember someone saying you were quite the warrior in Rauthym. Do you remember that at the party, Derik? Was it Halred that the one man was boasting about? ‘7 foot and muscles upon muscles, lass!’”

He poured some more ale into the stein and scratched his head, “Um... I'm not sure... I was busy doing the arm-wrestling thing over the knives...”

The stein again landed before Halred with a heavy as Derik added, “Was a bit distracted.”

“Oh right, well,” She blushed and smiled awkwardly, “I was pretty drunk by then myself. I am truly sorry, but I can't be sure.”

Halred seemed rather proud of himself as he announced, “Quite the warrior? Lass, thats an understatement. Aint no greater warrior in Rauthym.”

“That's a claim,” Derik rumbled, “There are some pretty solid warriors up that way.”

“This here pelt?” Halred said, pointing at the pure white dire wolf pelt on his shoulders, “Killed the beast with me bare hands.”

“Oh-ho!” Lannia cheered, “Your bare hands? That's something. Looks like it was a beast!”

The door opened again and in strolled a familiar monk who had been gone some time. Lannia’s expression brightened and she squealed out, “Adallan!”

He glanced over, offering a wave. He smirked at her and simply said, “Hey there.”

With that Lannia was up, launched from her chair. She bridged the distance between them and tackled the monk. She coughed at a small plume of ash erupting from him, and that is when she noticed his clothes were singed at various points. He didn’t budge at all, giving her a hug in return. Lannia then took to fussing like a mama bird, “Oi! Look at you!” 

AS she tried to dust him off, he steadied her hands and laughed, “Oh, don't mind that. It's...a long story. What's everyone all gathered in here for?”

“Just a good time!” Lannia chimed cheerfully, “Come in and have a drink! Halred, this is Adallan.”

Adallan looked over the massive northman and gave a level, “Ah, evening there.”

Halred looked over to the Adallan and gave a solid nod, drinking down his ale again. 

“Adallan, meet Halred,” Lannia continued introductions, “He's from my home island of Rauthym.”

“Rauthym, aye?” Adallan said and make his way to a stool, “I've heard a bit about it. Quite a ways out. If it's any consolation, I'm not exactly from around here, myself.”

The northman grunted, “They make small off our island eh?”

“Hey, I am small too but I pack a punch,” She chuckled and reclaimed her stool, “And so does Adallan.”

Halred smiled as she returned and winked at Lannia, “It’s that northern blood.”

“Adallan pretty much literally packs a punch,” Derik said and retrieved some whiskey from the well for Adallan, setting the whole bottle down in front of the monk. Adallan smirked and took a swig right from the bottle.

“I like to think I make up for my size in pure spirit,” Lannia smiled back at Halred.

“Aye, of course you would know all ‘bout spirits,” Halred said with a light twinkle in his eyes as he laughed a bit.

Derik went back to leaning against the bar near Lannia and and said, “Aye, she's got a fair bit that blow things up when she asks.”

“Indeed, so back to your problem,” Lannia returned the conversation to track with a serious tone, “I am a shaman like my grandfather before me. Whatever troubles you, it would honor me to help my countryman.”

She smiled with warmth and genuine kindness, clearly meaning what she said. Derik poured himself another glass of whisky, sipping it this time. Adallan, having walked in on the conversation looked between them curiously. Derik began to chat with the monk, intending to let the two northmen talk business. 

Halred placed the mug down on the counter and laughed, “Well now it’s not really a problem. I’m actually here for yer hand in marrige! Ye need a strong Northern man at ye side and there ain’t none stronger than me!”

Lannia sipped her whiskey and then coughed, sputtering it out. For a second a stunned Lannia questioned what she’d just heard. Halred beamed at her, awaiting her answer.

“Wh-what now?” Lannia croaked. 

Adallan looked to Halred, then to Lannia, then to Derik. Adallan quirked a brow and said, “Well...I eh...may have missed something when I was out...”

Halred gave another boisterous laugh, “Ye heard me lass! Think about it? Your spiritual connection, My strong northern bloodline! what could be better?”

Derik froze looking like he was about to say something to Adallan and then stopped dead. His head turned slowly to the left to regard the large northman as a quiet sizzling sound came from his glass. The sound ceased quickly as he asked, “Do what now?”

Lannia blushed wildly and tried to smooth it over, “I am very sorry you haven't heard...”

“Havent heard?” He asked smiling confidently at her. 

“I am to marry this man,” she pointed to Derik, “Tomorrow in fact.”

Derik set his glass down, with what appeared to be finger divets in it. He smiled good-naturedly and reaffirmed her statement, “The lady is spoken for friend.”

Halred looked back and forth between the two, then back to Derik sizing him up. Halred scoffed, “Him?... but he is just a lad... You need a real man!”

Halred laughed again and pummeled a fist to his chest. Derik, while clearly not the size of Halred, was not of any small stature. He was clearly struck by the insinuation. Lannia’s sapphire eyes were wide with shock. Her blush darkened the freckles on her cheeks and she said, “He's a great warrior, I assure you. I am flattered but I am spoken for.”

Adallan stoically raised his brow, assessing if he would need to step in for his friends. Halred shook his head some, looking a little solem. He considered and looked at Derik darkly, saying, “If he is such a great warrior then have him prove it! I challenge his right to marry you!”

He thumped his fist down on the counter and eyed Derik sternly.

“Fight me like a true Northerner and show your worth lad!” He ground out in Derik’s direction.

“Eh...how does one fight like a true northerner?” Adallan interjected. 

Adallan looked between them, curious. Lannia blanched and swallowed before croaking out, “Normally with axes or swords…”

“It’s simple really,” Halred explained, “We both beat each other till one man can’t stand. Winner gets her hand!”

Halred beamed a large smile at Lannia. Clearly, he thought this was charming. Derik’s eyebrow over his left eye quirked slightly, and his eyes flashed as he regarded the large northman in front of him. He was silent for a long moment. Adallan looked to Derik, reading his expression and nodded. 

Lannia lost color completely, trying to think her way out of this situation as she numbly said, “It is... Technically... My homeland's custom...”

Halred nodded firmly and said, “Aye, one must prove their worth.”

Halred beat his chest again and pointed his large finger in Derik’s direction, “I, Halred the Axe, challenge you for the hand of Lannia Tannen! Lest you’re afraid?” 

“I fear nothing,” Derik’s voice was deadly even, “The question is, are you willing to face Warwake, Holy Blade of Tempus?”

“I ain’t afraid to face anything lad,” The northman answered in a similarly ominous tone.

Lannia’s head flitted back and forth between the two men. Adallan frowned and her brow furrowed. Derik spoke softly, “North of the city there is an arena. Meet me there in five minutes. I accept your challenge.”

Lannia’s jaw hit the floor. Halred hopped up, looking rather pleased with himself and said, “You best be prepared lad.”

As the loud thumps of the massive northman faded in the distance, Lannia rounded on Derik and shrieked, “You are not serious???”

“Eh...hrm...” Adallan puffed his cheeks, and slid a hand back through his hair. After looking over Derik a moment, he simply nodded. Derik was already strapping on his armor. 

“I am very serious, Beloved,” Derik said, “Adallan, I'd appreciate a witness.”

“Aye, I can be there,” The monk nodded and stood ready to leave with his friends. 

“I'm not a citizen of Rauthym anymore!” Lannia argued. 

Adallan nodded to Lannia, in a "there's no stopping Derik" way. Derik swirled on his cloak.

“No,” Derik said calmly, “You are not.... but your family is. Remember what your grandfather said? I would know.”

She stopped and remembered her grandfather’s words about the challenge. She nodded slowly, “Okay... Love... Kick his arse.”

Derik put a hand to her cheek, “You know me better than that... I don't lose when it matters.”

She nodded, “I will go find myself a seat then.” 

“Be ready to heal his bleeding Northman self,” Derik said, turning warwake over in his hands. 

Moments later she sat in the balcony overlooking the scene. Derik strode up and paused. “I, Derik Ranloss, am here to answer the challenge of Haldred the Axe for the hand of Lannia Tannen, the Sprit who Walks.”

Derik pulled up his hood, and with a slow, deliberate movement and a metallic rasp, Warwake was drawn from the chainmail scabbard on his back. The warrior muttered to the blade and it burst into flame. Halred let out a mightly cry and the battled was on. Adallan officiated the match, trying as best he could to settle Lannia who looked on tensely. Metal clashed with metal, ringing in the night air. 

… And then it was done…

Halred fell with a mighty thud, and did not get back up. Lannia cheered and ran down to her beloved Derik. Adallan appeared at Halred’s side in and instant, applying a healing salve. Adallan then stepped forward again, offering a hand to the warrior to help him up. Halred took the monk’s hand and with a loud groan, pushed to his feet. 

His face was somewhat calm as he said, “Well lad...” 

“I believe that means she's mine, friend,” Derik said over him. 

Halred looked at the man dead in the eyes for a moment with a serious expression before beaming a large smile, “HA! Ye done good.”

Lannia, who had been watching the two closely, sighed with relief. Halred looked her over and smiled, “Seems ye picked the right man after all, lass.”

“I never had any doubt of that,” She said and smiled warmly.

“There are many strengths for battle, my friend,” Derik explained, “Strength of arm, strength of faith, strength of allies... Lannia is my strength of purpose. She is the reason I go to war and why I fight so hard to come home.”

A slow smile crept over Adallans lips as he watched the exchange. Derik smiled as well and added, “You never had a chance.”

With a nod of his head Halred said, “Then I, Halred, will honor the tradition of our people. Ye beat me fair and square lad.”

“And I thank you,” Derik said solemly, “By the custom of your people I accept the honor you allow me.”

“Ye not so bad after all, I be thinkin’ you and I could be friends!” Halred brought his massive paws down and pat the Derik on the back with another jovial laugh.

Derik gave a slight “oof” and actually bent forward a tad at the large man's whap on his back.

Derik smirked, “It would be my honor.”

“uh-oh,” Lannia groaned, “Am I going to have to hunt enough venison for both of you?”

“The three of us,” Adallan said with an innocent smile. His love of Lannia’s smoked venison sausage was no secret. 

“Ye may want to take some friends,” Halred suggested, “You know how much we northmen eat!”

Derik’s eyes narrowed at the monk, “And stay out of my sausage, Punchy!”

“I try to avoid your sausage, Stabby,” Adallan fired back with a smirk.

Playful banter continued until Halred suggested the boys head out for drink and merriment. Derik agreed after he finished some important business. That business was to grab his beautiful shamaness, pull her to him, and dip her into a long, savoring kiss. Her grandfather’s spirit would surely be appeased now, and her family’s blessing upon them. Tomorrow they would wed.

[*UQT]

They were finally married. An hour before the ceremony she changed her name from Lannia Tannen to Lannia Thatcher, adopted legally by Aidan as his legal daughter. Then she became Lannia Ranloss. The custom of her people was for the woman to carry the name. Had she married in the land of her tribe, he would be Derik Tannen. However, with as much kinship as she now felt to her homeland the fact remained; She was no longer a citizen. She was 17 years removed.

They spent a glorious week of wedded bliss honeymooning in Selune’s bracelet. Adelaide returned from the dead. Ronja left Luke, Luke went back to Adelaide, and Ronja began a relationship with Gunthar.  Antje left Aidan, Aidan was now with Kirri who was another new face. 

Cultists terrorized the coast along with mysterious spirit creatures. The white order had shown up and no one knew if they could be trusted. Tieflings, a normally rare hybrid race to behold seemed to show up on the coast by the dozens. Who knew how it all related, or if it all related? 

Time marched on…

The warsworn seemed like a perfect application of her talents. She felt like she could be useful for a change, but while Shaman were a revered class in Rauthym the sword coast looked at her like she was alien. They simply seemed ignorant of what she could do, and so they ignored her. 

She could detect and commune with the spirits, she could push them to the edge of the map and back again, she could significantly weaken them at a word, and she could take their form, stepping into the spirit realm with her physical body…

Yet she was useless… Present in three major spiritual events lately, she was all but ignored. Shoved aside… “Let the paladins, priests, and the favored souls handle it…” 

A plan was put before the powers that be outlining her potential contribution to hunting and ridding the coast of the warsworn. She had little hope it would be taken seriously. The coast seemed almost willful in its ignorance of her gifts, even after proving herself time and again over the past year. What does it take to be acknowledged?!

Still she knew that bitterness was more a distraction for herself. No new visions of late. Nothing new pointed her to the two siblings who yet lived. Nothing to even tell her which two siblings yet survived. She knew only that Marius held one… A brother… 

Which brother? How had she not known him, not seen him? Why, after her memories were restored could she not put a face or a name to him? Had Marius kept them separate all those years? Why had Marius taken him? Marius didn’t just take people. They had to have a purpose. What talent might one of her brothers have shown to be singled out?

Conner was a sweet older brother and very responsible, but too gentle. He was not a particularly well-known warrior, ranger, or anything. He was just a responsible, sweet boy, with a crush on a Tempite girl one village over. He’d have lived an average life. He’d been well loved and respected, and have kids by now… Except…

Feris was a bit of a troublemaker, getting into fresh baked pies, and generally making a fuss. The girls all love him for his bad-boy charm. As much as he seemed to want to be Connor’s opposite, they were fond siblings. Feris had a flash to his eyes and a fire for living… He would have been a wild and charismatic man, like her father… Except...

Donnel was a tender boy, and was always attached to her mother’s hip. Her father worked with Donnel on his strength. Her fatehr kept trying to make a proper Northman of Donnel. He was of proper Northman size, but always strangely meek. At the end of the day Donnel would end up tugging on Imogen’s sleeve, begging his mother’s protection from shadows and monsters no one else saw. Young boys often had imaginary villians, so it was a little too early to say that Donnel would not have been a proper Northman. He was born blond and becoming a darker brown every year. He was increasingly handsome and he had the size. Life and who he would be was still wide open to him… Except…

She had a sister out there. The spirits said she was safe. Who knows, now that her family name was cleared and Lannia's legend was spreading on the island, her sister might seek her out. Her sister was okay. Her sister was not a concern. Except that she once had four of them… Except…

Except… Except… Except…

Marius…

“You will have another vision when it is time,” Cider interrupted her meditation.

“When will it be time?” She asked in a cold, bitter voice.

She opened her eyes and looked into the great spirit. She had come to know it wasn’t normal for a shaman to be accompanied by a greater spirit like the great hunter Na’qpote. Yet there he was, a near constant companion. 

“What was it like?” She asked and the spirit stared at her, unblinking, “Watching me through all the lives Marius imposed.”

“Inspiring,” Came his simple reply, eventually he added, “Painful… To see you twisted and rise above it, again and again. Your spirit is stronger than you ever give it credit for. 23 times he tried to permanently warp you, and 23 times he ultimately failed.”

“My brother is still there,” She spat at him.

“It is not the same for him,” Cider explained.

“So what?” Lannia asked, “The new personality took? Is that supposed to make me feel better? That he’s spent 17 years so far as Marius’s brainwashed murder but at least he’s only lived one story? How long does one live like that before it becomes who they truly are? How far gone is he?” 

“I didn’t say-,” Cider started.

“YOU NEVER DO!” She cried and hurled a book at the spirit.

It passed through him and hit the wall with a dull thud. Derik would be upset at her for throwing a book, so she got up and put it away. She growled, “You know where he is… Don’t you? You know what he’s been forced to do… You know what he is still being forced to do! Tell me where he is!”

She stepped eye to eye with the spirit and all but screamed the last bit in his face. Cider’s ears went back, and for the first time ever he bared his teeth at her. He disappeared suddenly, and she could feel that he was completely gone. He was never completely gone. She fell to her knees and hit the ground, repeatedly, until her knuckles bled. She cried out her frustration. 

She would have 3 brothers and 4 sisters and be the head of her tribe. 

Except for Marius…



Hours later Cider returned finally. She had fallen asleep on the floor where she had howled so long her voice was hoarse. Cider didn’t ask for an apology. He just curled around her as if his spirit form could offer warmth. There they stayed until Lannia remembered the floor was cold and Cider made a poor blanket in this physical world. She got up, pulled herself together, and went to meet Derik at the Arms. 

For the evening she went back to being Lannia, like she always did. Happy, unflappable, Lannia… But somewhere out there her brother was doing Gods knows what. Worse, he had been convinced that he wanted to…

How does one really live with that?

[*UQT]

More botched events...

The others were patrolling for more orcs. She, Vendor, and Teris looked over the piles of white order bodies; some smoldering, some yet to be added to the flames. With the plague of undead and Lannia's ability to call upon the spirits of fire they decided it was best to help them with the incineration. They offered and the guards accepted. She moved to the center and asked the gaurds to clear out so she could handle this unfortunate business.

Then the patrols returned and everything got confused. Standing among piles of dead bodies, half way through an incantation to call down the spirits of fire, she reminded the gaurds that they needed to step out of the way and allow her to finish this grim task.



The patrol, not having been privy to the conversation before, reacted with horror. They acused her of terseness, and unfeeling for the dead. Clearly... None of them knew her well or that she was a shaman. She sought to end undead suffering at the necromancer's hands before it began and what's more she was following the orders of the two people supposedly at the head of this effort. 

She looked at the crowd, some 13 adventurers where there should have been 5 or 6. No one could tell her what half of them were doing there accept seeking glory and lending chaos to someone else's fight but she was the over-zealous one. She was the one acting out of turn in their eyes. As far as she could tell, she was one of the only people there invited well in advance and who actually knew something about the relic that they sought. She was also the only one consistently listening and following orders.

Of the people that did know her, not one questioned that the situation was not as it appeared. 
Not one lifted their voice to defend her. Teris and Vendor went mute. Neither defended her actions that they moments earlier agreed to. Then the guard also back pedaled, seeing a group of fierce adventures stare at the piles of bodies aghast. 

Did they honestly think -this- was how she wanted her shaman powers put to use? A year on the coast baking for these people, making pancakes for these people, laughing with them, helping them through this and that, did they honestly think she was so cold? Did they think she enjoyed being center stage to roasting human flesh? She opened her mouth to defend herself when Derik arrived, surveyed the scene and motioned her to him, "They aren't listening, love."

What followed from there was not the mystic quest she was expecting but a stream of killing. Just non-stop battles and hundreds fell. When they found the relic it was almost an afterthought. She remained silent for most of it. Her arrows flew with scary precision, covering the front line with a hail of arrows. She reserved her magic, just in case the situation would become grim. One ally fell, and she used her shaman powers to recall his spirit and heal him... No thanks was offered. 

By the end of it Teris was near catatonic from all the killing, and she wondered if she was really any use at all. Surely someone had a raise dead scroll that would have been just as effective. 

She collect herself up and went home with Teris and Derik.

Not but a day later the goblins attacked the tradeway en force. Her arrows flew as she hastily warded herself and Derik. They ended up pinned at the bottom of a cliff under a hail of arrows. She was the only one for this task, her spirit walking abilities would make her impervious to the storm of arrows and nearly invisible as she made her way up the cliff. No one was listening and -GODS- she was sick of no one listening. On the third time she repeated the plan with no response she nodded to Derik and just did it. 



Near 20 archers fell to her arrows at the top of the cliff before two other members of the party were able to free themselves enough to come up the cliff and help her. Pleased with herself for the first time in a long time, she relayed what she had found at the top of the cliff when she arrived, intending to also relay information about the direction of the attack and more forces that surely lurked in the distance. She was cut off in her telling, ignored and treated rudely. Her spirit sank. Contributions again discarded; She just couldn't be good enough. 

As the rest of the party joined them, she made note of one important fact... Derik was not there.

There was not a question to her. She saw the strength in the party and that they no longer needed her. She gifted them a few wards and began her frantic search. She sent Derik a sending and got no response. The spirits said he had not joined them, so he was not dead. After grid searching most of the nearby areas, she decided to regroup. She left word a a few local taverns for Derik to contact her and that she would wait at the Muse. 

He final turned up, hours later. He had sustained a blow to the head and been drug off into a cave. The goblins mistook him for dead and were searching him for items of value. He awoke and instructed them in their error by way of a flaming sword. He arrived covered in blood with a concussion, semi-staggering, but he found his way to Lannia. He always found his way to her. She threw her arms around him and held him tightly. Then she seated him and addressed his wounds. 

She decided, then and there, that all that mattered was on the stool in front of her. Never again would she leave his side in a battle. Never again would she worry over thanklessly aiding so many that didn't appreciate her. This man always had. This man had never taken her for granted. This man had always believed in her. 

She would be Lannia, and the coast could take or leave her. As long as she had Derik, nothing else mattered.

[*UQT]

Lannia, Marnie, and Teris sat on the couches at the Friendly Arms, enjoying each other's company when a round of aged cheese was delivered with some mulled wine. Happy to see her patronage appreciated, she dug in. She offered the cheese to both of her companions. Teris held the cheese in his hands, but his usual distraction kept him from eating it.

This turned out to be a boon as the room began to spin. Both she and Marnie broke into a sweat and became gravely ill. The cheese had been poisoned, and if not for their stout constitutions and Teris's intervention they'd have likely perished. A waitress who took a nibble of cheese from the bottom of the round was less fortunate. 

They found the girl mere moments after her death and Lannia was able to recall her spirit to her form. Teris neutralized the poison and Lannia healed her. When the confusion cleared, Lannia and Marnie questioned Bentley about the poisoned cheese. 

The cheese had been meant for Lord Eugene Denton, who had never arrived. The cheese had sat in the kitchen and finally a mistake was made and it was served. The remaining cheese in the shipment, along with a copy of the ledger, was delivered to the fist as Lord Denton had an estate in the Gate. 

Who knows? Maybe Lannia's Last Anchor will receive nobility as thanks, but she wasn't holding her breath.


A demon bear had been terrorizing the areas around the reaching woods. Derik got a mind to address this threat and provide a large bear rug for the school. He wanted Lannia along to track and skin it. Freya came as a healer and Ronja came for extra muscle.

The beast took the better part of a day to trace to its den. It made two fresh kills along the way. Upon entrance at the bear's den a gruesome discovery was made. The bear had become a man hunter and the den was littered with rotten human corpses. Once the beast was put down, the victims were identified as lathanderites. Identifying lockets were collected and returned to the temple in Beregost so that their families could be notified. 


Lannia worked the massive pelt, cleaning and stretching it as she thought about their next mission. The warsworn... 

The creature was massive. Even now she could feel the spiritual energy trapped in it. Like the waves of a passing boat, the energy of it broke against her in a steady rhythm. It was very large, and very powerful. She couldn't help but smile.

She'd had a hard time of late feeling like her skills had any purpose. Now this creature was almost calling to her. Her gifts were uniquely suited to end it.

[*UQT]

Lannia and Derik arrived at the townhouse the night before the mission. She never did get past pre-mission nerves, instead she busied herself. She cooked some rabbit stew, and made sure her warrior ate. He ate well and then was lost to her, deep in meditation. She left, and reminded herself how strong she had become by saying hello to the Yaun-ti queen. The next morning she walked in, she noted Ronja was already there, and Derik was still where she left him; meditating. 

“Hello, my love,” Lannia cooed at Ronja then turned to her husband, “And Derik.” 

This drew the normal smirks and chuckles. It was important to make people smile. It feeds the soul. She sat and listened as Ronja expressed her concerns about captaining the Relentless Storm if Vala could not make it in time. Eventually the pre-mission nerves forced Lannia to move to the docks and wait impatiently. The agents of the fist were already present which made her milling about on the dock twice as awkwardly painful. Eventually, everyone started showing up, congesting the docs. 


They made their way together to the officers of the fist to do a quick run down again of the plans. She’d tried to give her normal greetings but a lot road on her this mission, she didn’t have her normal energy to give everyone the morale boost she was known for. Still, everyone there was a friend or family, and it lifted her spirits to see them.

Magnussen was as formal as always with her. As much as she liked it, this was the coast, not Rauthym. Here she was just Lannia, and she wanted him to feel at peace with her. It would help him adjust to the culture as well. As she watched him, every time she watched him, she remembered her youngest brother, Donnel. A pain hit her heart… Her two living siblings remained out there somewhere, just out of sight. Maybe the living brother was Donnel. The fact of the matter was that she just didn’t know. 

She gave a few more hugs to Adallan and Michael, a blessing to Magnussen, and encouragement to Juniper. She boarded the vessel and began the wards she knew were wanted. She huddled the group and distributed a mass death ward. She left it to the rest to come forward if they had a need. 

The two vessels were off, taken toward the most common grounds of sighting. Lannia could feel that they were headed in the right direction. Once the fog obscured their view her sight was the asset they needed, and she pointed them directly at the warsworn. She readied her bone crushing bow for bludgeoning damage, though she knew her real strength today would be in her divine magic and shamanistic abilities. 

She sat aboard the vessel that was intended to be caught by the beast. Just out of sight she could feel the Relentless storm keeping distance. The harrier vessel, Derik called it. She had no gift for nautical terms. The massive beast rose from the ocean right where Lannia pointed them.

“Poan drnii pochyyty khueradrity dry lii vur drnii wyinieliliihu, ziniy chietymy lian nieratymy dry poedrdrchi vur driestniimy lian wunrakihumy ziehu, tyy un stcheunli mydrhuirakdrni wyhu drniunmy poedrdrchi. liean lian myniunichty poi vi poonchziehugo, liean lian pochetyi tyimydrhuyan lian irailian. liean drniymyi drniedr wunknidr, tyy myy ziundrni fiechyhu,” Lannia knew well Derik’s battle prayer. 

Dimitry created a gust of wind, blowing the fog away so that everyone could see what so many already sensed. The large mass of corpses loomed like a small island, rearing a clumpy tendril like a serpent’s head. She reached out for the first strike, calling upon her shamanistic ability to weaken the spirits trapped in the warsworn and lower some of its defenses. A softer target was -desperately- needed. 

The special ballista developed by Derik and Juniper were losed on the beast drawing it toward the Francesca. In the distance she heard a second round hit from Vala and Michael on the deck of the Relentless Storm. It was begun in earnest. An oily, decaying clump, fell from the creature and it advanced. 

The battle raged, ballista flew, payloads of holy water were launched at the beast. She heard a thunk as Magnussen paced the deck, waiting for the creature to board, then made himself busy loading ballista when the need became apparent. She and Charisa pelted the creature with wave after wave of divine spells. Amelith’s epic arcane skills were presented as lightning split the sky and bits blew off the ever-weakening beast. 

Luke sang of the sea, and sang of victory. Even as the boat rocked he rallied his comrades. Lannia could only guess at what was happening on the other ship but she could see and sometimes feel the impact of their assault from the other side. Dimitry’s meteors rained down at the mass. 

She could lose arrows faster than most could swing a sword, but they just disappeared into the beast. As corpses and twisted hunks of metal spewed from the creature she drew dragon’s tooth and her heavy shield. She focused her efforts on divine spell work. Ice storm and sunbeam, over and over until she had only a single cast of each, holding it for the death blow. 
Somewhere in the fray a stowaway was discovered but there was no time to consider the presence of the woman. Lannia used her epic summoning ability to call a Solar. He flew into the creature unleashing more divine magic and cutting at the creature with a divine blade. 

Hellballs flew at the creature from Dimitry. More ballista bolts sang through the air. She heard the same impacting from the other side. The creature began to close and Charisa offered a blessing and prayer. It was almost upon them. A massive hunk of twisted metal flew at them striking Magnussen, Amelith, and Charisa. 

More bolts. Salaria, Adallan and Derik fired. Amelith let lose a blast of arcane fire, another hellball from Dimitry. Luke continued to sing. She wondered at the fact that his voice never got hoarse. Though wounded, Magnussen kept the ballista loaded with bolts. More divine damage was dealt by herself and Charisa. 

She could only vaguely hear the sounds of fighting on the other side from the relentless storm. The creature seemed to turn. Lannia presumed it now gave chase to the storm. It was their turn to draw its attention back. It was getting to far away from them, and bolts were falling short of hitting it. Their slower, more heavily armored vessel had to depend on the relentless storm to use it’s speed to escape while they attempted to draw it again. 

They eventually closed to range and began pelting it anew. As… desired? The warsworn again turned its attention to their vessel. Divine spells, arcane spells bolts and holy water continued to rain on the creature. This time it looked like the creature would catch them, and a wave of enslaved spirits appeared. Lannia reached inward and weakened, then chastised them. Weakened, they had no defense for Charisa’s turn undead spell and were freed from the warsworn. 

Lannia smiled at Charisa. Charisa smiled at Lannia. Divine kinship seeming to be struck they turned toward the signs of continued battle. The creature was on them, it wrapped several tendrils around the ship and close combat began. 


Adallan’s hands smoked ant burst into flames. Derik drew warwake and holy fire engulfed the relic of Tempus. Lannia made contact with a tendril, blasting the undead mass with a heal spell. She watched an arm of the creature get harpooned and drug off the boat. She said her silent thanks to the crew of the storm. Magnussen and Derik took brutal blows. 

Seeing Derik pushed back by the beast, Adallan lept over him and struck the tendril with a flaming fist. Derik braced as the creature attempted to crush him as Adallan threw blows from above. Luke attempted to hit Derik with a protection song and uttered a bardic curse at the creature. Magnussen flew into a berserk rage at another tendril. Salaria pelted the arm Magnussen attacked with arrows. Lannia and Amelith called epic lightning down on all the arms of the creature, back to back. 

Derik shoved his holy blade hilt deep into the mass nearest him as the sounds of bolts cracked against the opposite side of the creature. Salaria seemed to disappear in the fray as another tendril was harpooned and yanked away. Derik’s relic of Tempus cleaved through the flesh like butter. Lannia made contact with another heal spell, gravely damaging the undead creature.

Angered the creature swung at Magnussen, flinging him across the deck but luckily not into the water. Magnussen clung to the edge of the ship. She saw people rush to his aid and that arm of the creature now was free to slither further unto the deck. Lannia was having none of that. She charged the arm and held the line. The mass launched a piece of plate mail at Charisa but she was able to find cover. A sword appeared from the mass nearest Derik and swiped at him, which Derik expertly blocked. The stowaway made herself useful, pulling Magnussen back on deck. 

Adallan pelted the creature with a flurry of blows. Derik, seeming possessed, hacked brutally back at the creature. Charisa called forth an epic mass heal spell searing the creature and addressing the wounds of the crew. Dimitry hit the creature with a magic missile storm more powerful than she had ever seen, also unleashing some kind of giant hand to block the creature’s attacks. Lannia hit the arm closest to her with another heal spell, watching it sizzle beneath her divine grasp. Salaria pelted the creature with arrows from a bludgeoning bow much like Lannia’s own. 

The arm Lannia faced gave a sick groan, swelling and attempting to roll over and crush her. It was a bit faster than Lannia could react to, but she threw her hands up trying to blast it with an epic mass heal. Magnussen leapt forward, attempting to hack the arm back off of her. The warsworn responded with more blades, hacking back at Derik and Magnussen from different arms. 

"Get off of her!" Magnussen bellowed at the beast.

Derik and Magnussen managed to dodge its attacks while she concentrated, trying to get the spell off. The creature gave an angry belch and spewed a storm of blades onto the deck of the ship. Magnussen and Charisa were struck, but only glancing blows. Lannia had just about enough of that and fired her spell. The tendril was thrown off her, blasted near off the ship. The mass heal consequentially saw to the injuries sustained by Magnussen and Charisa. 

Seers were precious and a protected class in Rauthym. Magnussen fell into a rage trying to rip the creature apart even once it peeled back off of Lannia. Derik also hacked it with is holy blade, and Adallan continued his wave of blows. Back to her feet, Lannia called another epic lightning storm to smite the beast. Salaria attempted to expose a weakness on the monstrosity with her kukri and Magnussen took advantage landing his axe. Suddenly the stow away proved useful again, summoning a massive spider spirit which tore into the arm before it. 

The arm of the warsworn in front of the pair attempted a desperate lunge at Derik and Adallan and both were knocked back. Derik had seemed enraged before, and now he was rabid. Adallan now seemed affected as well. The massive arm before her, Salaria and Magnussen swung at them hard. Salaria dodged, Magnussen was pushed back, but Lannia caught the majority of the swing in her gut and was launched clear out of the boat. 

Frantic shouts came from onboard the ship. The suit of armor Lannia was wearing looked like it should have drug her into the depths, but it was enchanted mithral and barely the weight of a padded shirt. She swam and seeing the warsworn closing in, called upon her favor with the spirits to invoke a protected spirit journey back to the ship. 

"SOMEONE GET HER OUT!" She heard Magnussen below like a frantic animal. She supposed it probably looked like she had just disappeared in the waves. She rematerialized on deck, directly beside him, and placed a hand on his shoulder to let him know she was there and safe. 

Derik and Adallan continued their assault on the arm before them. With a roar and wet rending of flesh, Derik’s sword bisected the warsworn arm in front of him. Luke Darius summoned a phantom bear then sent it off towards the nearest warnsworn. Dimitry let lose another barrage of meteors. Salaria let lose more arrows, as Magnussen hacked with his axe. Then a massive explosion rocked the beast and it blew into independent pieces. 

A dismantled warsworn, not happy to see Lannia back on deck, made its lunge. Charisa attempted to taunt the creature away and then hit it with Hammer of the Gods. Magnussen laid into the chunk of warsworn before him rendering it little more than a pie of corpses. Caught in a rage from the warsworn’s aura, he continued to hack at the immobile corpses. Salaria took pause, staring at the young warrior’s violence. 

All at once the remaining bits of warsworn called out to its trapped spirits for help and the deck was again swarming with the spirits of the dead. Magnussen breathed heavily, the warrior drew his axe out of the mass and howled. The creature's parts realed from the various attacks.

One of the lumps if warsworn called out and drug in the sick green fog. The spirits called on deck writhed in fear and pain. Various animated weapons rose up from the deck and hacked at the adventurers. When they bounced off protection from evil spells, they turned on the ship, hacking at the deck. A massive bit of warsworn strained to crush the ship but was unsuccessful.

More bolts flew towards the main mass of creature. It had been reduced in size to the point that she could see the mast of the storm on the other side, waves of explosions hitting the beast and widdling it away. Dimitry Focused on the main body with another hell ball of fire and acid. Adallan moved to another chunk of the beast pummeling it with a flurry of blows. Magnussen turned his attention to a spirit before him. 

“How about this time i just throw You at it Mag?” Salaria offered with a grin. Magnussen responded with a crushing blow, completely obliterating a spirit shield before him. Derik turned to fight the animiated spirit-weapon nearest him, interposing himself between it and Luke. Lannia called to the spirits, weakening and then chastising them. The beast shuddered, and all over it, corpses fell away. Salaria drew her weapons and hacked another bit of the creature away. 

A profane energy began to fill the air, like it was readying a final desperate attack. The party rallied, blows and ballista bolts rained down. Having saved a final blast of divine energy just for this moment, Lannia launched at the nearest piece of the beast and let lose a divine strike of sunbeam. 

And it was done…

Corpses fell away into the sea as the Warsworn fell apart and dark energy wafted out of its death throws. Lannia and Charisa immediately went to work banishing the remaining energies and commending those trapped souls on to the spirit realm where they might finally travel to their gods. 

The party looked up to see the storm riding up alongside the Francesca. A howl of celebration broke over the exhausted groups. The Relentless Storm was barely damaged, and operated at full efficiency. The Francesca, having born the beast on its hull, was damaged and unable to move at full speed.

Derik raised his sword above his head, giving a roar to his god, “TEMPUS! RAAAAAAAAAGH!”

To be certain the rebuked energies of the warsworn stayed banished, Lannia called forth a final blessing of the spirits. The boats tided together and both crews mingled and celebrated. Exhausted, Lannia stowed her weapon and shield. She leaned back heavily against the mast and closed her eyes. Having performed all her rights for the dead, she asked Charisa to do the same. One can’t be to careful with a being of that size and power. 

As they sifted through the corpses it became evident that the creature was centuries old. Lannia sat there a moment, and just took in a few relieved breaths. Finally shoving to her feet again, she did what every wife does after a battle, she looked for Derik in the confusion of the two mingling crews. She spotted him and moved wearily toward him. Seeming to sense her nearness he said, “If you'll excuse me for a moment...”

Lannia found herself wrapped in his arms, dipped back and thoroughly kissed. Luke, who had been enjoying a conversation with Derik, shook his head and laughed. Lannia hung in Derik’s arms contently, and when he righted her she curled into him, resting her head beneath his chin. Near all of her divine energy spent in quick succession, she was happily exhausted. Derik was not one to complain, resting his chin on the top of her head. They made their we back to the gate victorious.

[*UQT]

Sleep is fitful. The room was cold... She stood and lifted herself from her bed, making her way to the fireplace in a restless daze. Something tickled her mind, told her to wake and better take in what she was seeing. Her eyes slowly focused.



Cider sat, looking into the fire that was flickering unnaturally. His ageless gaze moved to her and he said, "Darkness and light is a battle that rages within us all. The brighter your soul, the more the darkness wants to claim you."

The fire burst and sputtered with spastic gasps. Her eyes bounced back and forth from it to the great spirit that always seemed to be with her. His rumbling voice continued, "You already know that hate cannot create anything. Hate only destroys. It rages against the light, and snuffs it out where it can because love creates, love builds. Darkness takes it's footholds and when we are weak it speaks of deals and powers... It claims souls."

The fire erupted outward and Cider just sat there, looking into her. 

She woke up and sat up like a bolt in her bed, sweating and shaking. A persistent ache in her heart grew crippling. The monsters, drow, the dark signs, her brother, Michael and Vala, Teris... She had gone to sleep wondering if she was strong enough to fight all these battles. As she vibrated where she sat she now wondered if she could save herself. 

The darkness is coming, and it knows me...

[*UQT]

Between drow, devils, darkness, and the near constant stream of people that seem to need her suddenly, Lannia wearily sits down at her desk. She needs to purge the negativity in her veins. It is venom that seeks to poison her. As little as she like to write, write she does. 

With all the choas I must now deal with this... Gods I wish I weren't so bloody right about people all the time... I have a system for rating men. You are a male - barely qualifying beyond what dangles between your legs, a person - okay you have some redeeming qualities but only a fool would love you because your soul is weak and your eye will wander, and a man - a man knows love has rises and falls.

A man knows love will have periods of work and hardship. A man knows sometimes he just won't want to deal with his wife's habits. A man knows he will fight with her as often as he makes love to her. But a man remember what he fell in love with. Even when it is hard, even when he doesn't want to love her, he fights his way back to her. Forgiving her and forgiving himself, and with each bitter fall there is a soaring period to follow. Their love looks effortless from the outside, but inside the man knows he fought for her, and he holds her tightly against him.

Derik is a man. Praise to the Gods that I have such a man. 

But this one... This one who leaves his broken wife in my care... He's no man. Bitterly I recall that by the second sentence he spoke I knew how to rank him; a person. Good in him, but his heart is weak and bitter. I looked between him and Derik and thought, "She chose this guy over Derik?" I pitied her without knowing her. This is the kind of man that gives you all attention and makes you feel special while his eyes watch the door for the next bed warmer. He looks for what he can't or shouldn't have and he takes it if he can. He holds it until people finally seem okay with it and then he drops it... Bored by the lack of intrigue. 

Then on meeting her I could see that she was truly in love. I loved her for her complete devotion and thought that he didn't deserve her. I like him plenty, I want to add, and felt we had a special bond of friendship, but I still found him unworthy of her... An unworthy partner to any real woman. I hoped... I hoped against hope that I was wrong.

Then I met that other woman. She came bouncing by, trying to fight in heals of all things, pony tail and flirting with every man I saw near her. I miss strong Salaria, maybe I will go see her at the Muse. See what she thinks of this week, cheap little trollop in heals and plate. I've had a low opinion of her from the outset, which surprised me, as I am generally accepting of everyone... But when I saw her I though this is a woman dying for attention. This is a woman that will sell herself cheaply to get it. 

I tried to put aside my first impressions as she got close to many of my friends and the Halls. Even when she lit up at Derik and near sneered when she saw me. Part of me couldn't blame her. I have not been myself with all the drow about. But my darker side I laughed at her. I almost wanted to dare her to try to take him from me. Derik is mine. Derik is a real man. I was actually ashamed of myself... Surprised by my near visceral reaction to her.

But more importantly... I was so in love with my Derik. Even with the way things have been, he put his arm around me and kissed me right in front of her. Derik probably didn't even sense what was going on. I don't think he meant to rub our love in her face, but gods if that isn't exactly what he did. Not from malice, not to display us, but because even as I am on the verged of breaking he loves me. He fights for me. He is proud of me. 

He loves me like a real man. That's the kind of love those two now will never know. They'll make a great show of it. She'll prance about acting like a martyr for love. Acting like she's better than everyone who is treating her poorly for what she's done. What she doesn't realize is that we aren't just mad and her and him... We pity her. Just when people stop... Just when people accept them as a couple... He'll leave her like he left everyone else. It probably won't take as long as many of the others either... She's frankly rather boring. The peach looked ripe and easy to pick, but it's rotten and selfish on the inside. It pretends at honor and love but falls miserably short because you can't really love until you love yourself. A woman that would take a married man does not love herself. 

She'll have only herself to blame for acting like she had some holy right to his love... Speaking words like Selune shines upon all loves... What might Selune say about someone who destroys love? Someone who steps into the middle of years in a bad time, in a low spot, and says, "The climb out is easier with me"? It must be bloody convenient to talk about forgiveness and patience and mercy when you are the one expecting it and acting like people are so beneath you for not "getting it".

Of course it is easier to rise out of the low spot with her. It's easy to get things that are cheap. Cheap also breaks easy, and loses that new smell quickly.

And him... bloody gods-be-damned coward. I'd like to be angrier at him, but he just confirmed what I felt all along. He's charming and a good person... But he's not a man. Forever now in my eyes he shall be a coward. He ran from his true love at home, a woman devoted to him, and he didn't even leave clean. He made sure he had a nice warm body to bury himself in first. He left her with his nightmares, he left her destroyed and cold. She is dying in front of me from the mental link she can't severe to him, placed by the dragon's orb, and he lays in bed with his cheap new toy.

He says he is manning the north and giving her space, but he's just running. He's really just a bloody coward. Burying his face in forbidden fruit rather than facing the fact that all his wife ever did was love him... Now she's dying for it, and he's going to let her die alone. A real man would at least be here to care for her as the mental link rips her apart. A real man would face what he did.

Then again... He's not a real man. 

He's a boy with a new cheap toy. Both of them acting like they are so benevolent in tolerating everyone's ire. It makes me sick. In time I will be able to to look at them and pretend I have faith in what they have. So will the rest of the coast, and when it falls apart that woman will be in my inn likely... In a similar state... And I'll take care of her.

Because that's who I am. As much venom as I sit here and spit... I take care of people, even when they don't deserve it. And I'll watch again... His next new toy, as I am collecting the broken ones he leaves behind. I'll clean up the mess... Because no one deserves to be just someone's left behind mess...

Damn you, Michael Dunn. I wish you had no redeeming qualities. It would be so much easier, but you are my friend... And you are a bloody, miserable, coward. 

You are not a man.

She takes the note and leaves it for Derik. She doesn't hide anything from him. Her intent is to burn it later. For now she leans back in her chair and sighs. She'll still be taking food to the north watch. She'll still be working to help with the devils where she can. When they call, she'll give it all her heart and power to solve this crisis... But she needed to get that out. She needed to give her anger a form she could destroy.

Marius still has my brother.
I have a sister out there... Somewhere. Gods only know what she's been through...
Osric...
Teris...
Linela...
Suna...
Alirk...
Grim...
Vala...
All of my friends... They need me to be strong.

She hasn't seen Gaven... and can only wonder how he is after what happened to Miz... Bloody, fraking drow. Just how much alchemist fire would it take to burn that horrid hole to the an empty husk? She places her arms on the table and rests her head on them. So many people suffering. How can she help them all? She cries into her arms. 

Tears are a gift from the Gods to let it spill out when the emotions are too big to be contained.

[*UQT]

She poured over the books given to her on the church of Selune. Her own goddess, Chuantea, was said to have come out of the early battles of Selune and Shar. While Chuantea had a festival of supreme indulgence, treading upon a marriage was hailed as vile; the work of Shar. That was what bothered her most about the attitude of that priestess. The idea that she was following her heart, and everyone should just forgive them as her goddess likely forgives her. Parading as if she was somehow better, a martyr of love, by baring the disgust of everyone around them.

At last... She found it. 

"See me, the goddess of the moon, moonlight, and stars; beauty and purity; love and marriage; navigation and navigators; tracking, wanderers, and seekers; diviners and dreams; good and neutral lycanthropes; and autumn."

She read on...

"Celebrate in joy for our goddess is enthusiastic, vivacious, joyous, and majestic, given to action and dancing. Meditate in peace for she is subdued, motherly, tranquil and embracing. She shares our burdens; remote and weighed down by sadness at defeats and tragedies, even those that happened long, long ago. Fear her wrath when she shows it; aggressive and fierce and cold, and with little mercy for her enemies. "

So what might she impose this wrath upon? She found in a text from Dupar...

"Hear me, for I am the goddess of love and marriages. Act not against a love that has weakened but give it space to fail or thrive on its own.Marriages are sacred, blessed and alive, beneath my light. Any person who takes to them one who is married to another is not mine and does the work of Shar."

Now if only the gods actually seemed to act on the coast. So many paladins and holy people spouting their rhetoric. Yet, Tess still dwelled in the Halls of Inner Light as a Silverstar of her faith... How was it that Selune did not act in person on this sacrilege? Where was the great ancient goddess in this? Allowing that woman to trounce about all over one of Selune's own titles? 

Goddess of Love and Marriages. 

Instead of feeling better, she just felt sick all over again. She closed the books and placed them on the shelf. She looked at them hard and took her note from yesterday, burning it in the fire. She meditated and offered a prayer to both her god and a divine spirit.

That is that. Weather the Gods, the temples, or the people know it, I know it. It know what is right and I will let this anger in me die now... I see how anger has poisoned Msciwoj and so many others. The desire for someone to acknowledge they are right and that so many are fallen eats away at them. They fall into absolutes and good intentions and pave their path to Avernus. Not me... 

I will let this go, and give her to her goddess. It is to Selune that she must answer in the end. As the mother of my goddess, I have to believe her judgement will be wise. 

Great mother, grant me your flowers in spring, the wheat grass of summer, the amber of the fall harvest, and a bounty to see me through the winter. Provide nourishment to my soul as it needs to be fed to heal. 

Earth mother... Great spirit... Grant me your tranquility. Let me be still and accept what is not in my control. Give me peace to believe that all things come round and all wounds heal. 

Thank you... Great mother, for my husband, Derik. Truly a hero of your great vine. 

[*UQT]

Another delivery of food to the northern watch. Think what she will of Tess and Michael, she continues to keep those at the post fed and ready for the threat. That's who she is.

The parties at her inn were not what she expected, but they went well. She has a few new friends, one of whom was also a victim of the Malarite. It is an odd thing to bond over, but bond they did over a shared terror and how they rebuilt themselves after. They continued to talk on about love and dignity and where they came from. Their stories could not be more different, and yet their bond was instant. Maur was a seeker of candlekeep and Lannia was venomously opposed to oaths given to organizations. It goes to show a common thread, a common goodness of spirit, may bind two very different people. She hoped to see much more of her, and reader Kerr in coming weeks. 

In another boon to her spirit, a man she'd long ago adopted as a brother came back into her life. She was so moved to see him she could scarcely keep from weeping. Urth, her cutie, her fishing and wine buddy! He just walked into her home out of the blue and she had to stop herself from imprisoning him there. The coast had been hard on her these past months, with her brother still held by Marius, and a sister still somewhere out there, to see Urth suddenly made her feel like it would be alright. Now if only Betha, his sister and her adopted sister, would also show up. 

These were her family... Derik, Teris, Ronja, Urth, Betha, Aidan, Gaven... It made her feel somehow stronger when they were near. Maybe it was another aspect of her avatar. 

Tortoise; avatar of familial love, and protection. In what unseen ways do you move me?