Book eight:

A side adventure!

When you are an adventurer, it's always mourning!

 

The day broke like any other day in the City of Ghosts. For obvious reasons, the nickname given to Corvis still made Sasha uneasy but things were looking up nonetheless. There were a flood of people to see and Sasha did not want to waste any time dwelling on anything other than hooking up with friends and letting the good times roll.

Sasha had gone to see if Carmina was about but sadly she must have had other arrangements and so Sasha went to the Muse in hopes of finding Rodrigo.

The Muse was looking very prosperous indeed and Sasha had almost forgot what a fine establishment he had helped to create. If only some of his old Roma buddies could see him now! Rodrigo was indeed inside and the two friends fell to talking right away as if the absent months had only been days.

To Sasha's surprise, Durnick walked in through the doors of the Muse later in the day and sprung the news that he was going to ask Marliana to be his bride! How astonishing! Sasha was further surprised to find out that Durnick was coming to Sasha this day to help him find the apropriate ring for Marliana. Sasha was very excited to embark on this new mission of Durnicks but secretly hoped that he would stay clear of the "marriage sickness" that seemed to be spreading through the party!

Sasha and Durnick soon came into the company of Harlen and his smithy staff with the hopes that He would know any more about Dwarven Marriage than Durnick. Sasha thought it was strange that Durnick would want to enter into a contract with somebody else without even seeing the contract but Dwarves just aren't like us, I suppose.

Sasha was just following Durnick throuhg the door to the smithy proper when an awfully powerfull explosion cut the midday greetings short.

"It wasn't me!" cried Sasha, fearing that his friends would blame him for the noise and destruction.

The group of adventurers ran to the scene of the explosion, which happened to be close by and were not surprised to see that one of the buildings on the merchants bourge quadrangle had a terrible wound in its side from which bellowed a thick black smoke.

Sasha warned off the assembled crowd in hopes that if there were any secondary explosions, none would get hurt. As the group readied to enter the building both Galgreth and Oolerock showed up just as a terrible metal on metal grinding noise came in from the shattered building. A Jack of some kind of was walking towards the opening int he building and Sashas hopes that It might be simply a worker steam jack were dashed as he spied the tattered banner that still hung above the remnants of the front hall.

"Corvis Arms and Armour Convention"! read the sign.

As the hulking form of the Warjack came into view amid the rubble of the entrance way, Sasha sprinted upto and through a blown out window in the building in hopes that there might be a weapon within to topple the beast that was running amok. Sasha called to the running forms of the panicked convention goers to bring arms against the rampaging Warjack but to no avail. The average Corvite is not made of very stern stuff after so many invasions it would seem.

Finding no help amongst the fleeing convention hall staff and patrons Sasha tried to reposition one of the large guns and even with the help of Barak, who had suddenly appeared through the haze of gunpowder smoke. Sadly the gun would prove too large and Sasha spying a pile of powder kegs pointed them out to Barak who immediately grabbed one and ran towards the fight that was by the sounds of it still raging outside. I too grabbed a keg and ran to the enlarged entrance only to find the Warjack lying in pieces on the ground and the shattered form of Oolerock lying amid his own blood, surounded by the remaining children of Eldamar. Oolerock was dead!

 

Father Durnic Belegost, idle thoughts.

Marliana was very worried. She had tried everything to get Durnic to come to his senses, but nothing was working. Finally, she did something that dealt a great blow to her pride - she admitted that she was unable to handle this, and called her mother…her mother had always known how to handle difficult situations.

But not this time.

Father Durnic Belegost, widely renowned stone-sculpter, priest of the fore-fathers, stone lord of the people of Rhul, and would be husband to Marliana, had simply "snapped".

For two days since Oolarok's death, he had remained impassive on the hard floor of his living room, staring blankly at the slab of marble before him. Although Marliana pleaded with him repeatedly and brought him food, he barely appeared to notice. He had not eaten or slept in two days, and had barely taken a sip of water. He had not prayed to his gods, except in pleading fits of frustration and despair.

Yes, she was worried, and for good reason.

 

When that massive hammer came down on Oolarok, Durnic could barely believe his eyes.

"Surely, he thought, Oolarok had somehow survived that blow!"

In his heart, however, he knew it wasn't so.

Durnic's first concern was for Megan. Megan - soon to be the mother of Oolarok's only child - was now a widow only a few months into their marriage.

But if truth be known, Durnic's concern for Megan masked something considerably more personally distressing. When Durnic first joined the Children of Eldamar, he felt he was a distant outsider - one who didn't truly fit in as the others did. Oolarok was the first to extend a hand in friendship, and it is Oolarok that Durnic has looked to ever since. Only a few days before, Oolarok had fallen in the quest to save Sasha's soul, only to be reincarnated by the power of the dying goddess Eldamar. Why, then, was the power of the fore-fathers insufficient to duplicate this miracle?

…and where were the others - the supposed heroes that Oolarok had fought so selflessly to protect on so many occasions? In the end, only Harlen showed the loyalty to stand beside Durnic and Oolarok as this most fearsome beast repeatedly fired its steam-driven cannon and pounded down endless blows with its gigantic mechanical hammer. But it would not be in Durnic's nature to hold them accountable for Oolarok's death.

Only days before, Durnic and Oolarok had dined together, and they had talked and drank at length about the future that lay before them. It really seemed like their lives had grown in similar ways over the past few years. They had been through many shared experiences, and together they had mourned the tragic loss of so many companions. They fought seamlessly as a team, they each had a family now, and they had both achieved a degree of respect and success within a culture that had once shunned and hated them.

Durnic pleaded first with the gods, and then with himself, wondering what shortcoming on his part had allowed this senseless tragedy to occur. Moments before the blow, Durnic had granted Oolarok the blessing of Fortitude - a blessing that should have been sufficient to see him through this conflict. The effect had been minimal, however - and had clearly not been enough to save the big Half-Ogrun's life.

Not knowing how else to manage his frustration and pain, Durnic turned to his carving, intent on crafting a memorial more significant and profound than the masterpiece he had created for Elezain two years prior. So he sat, and waited for the vision to come to him - the divine inspiration that would envelop him and give shape to this crude stone.

Yet, no such inspiration came, and this whole experience was taking its toll on the poor Dwarf. It seemed like nothing he could possibly imagine creating, however artistic and beautiful, could ever express what Oolarok had meant to him, to Megan, and to the others in his life. For the first time ever, Durnic's faith in his art, his friends, and even in his gods was failing him.

…and so he found himself shutting out even those closest to him as he fought this final battle within his own mind. And thus, when the remaining Children of Eldamar finally arrived, it was to the great relief of Marliana and Margliata. Somehow, they managed to do what Durnic's family had not - they convinced him to respond and move. Minutes later, Durnic was once again back in the world of the living, albeit without divine spells or guidance, and without the ability to express himself artistically.

No clear solution presented itself, but one thing was clear. If Durnic didn't recover soon, he would soon be useless not only to his loved ones, but to the Children of Eldamar as well.

 

Galgreth of the Rat speaks …

The wind whispered a great loss in my ear that day. But I have lost touch with the spirits and my ears no longer hear the sounds of my people. Too wrapped I have become in the ways of man and wizardry. If only I had listened then I could have seen what was to come. Oolarok's death weighed heavily on my soul; I got drunk that night and almost beat a man to death. The part that frightens me is how easily it was to beat a man. I felt an animal in me tearing to get out. The runes of Eldamar that I bore burned to the taint of my Tharn blood. If only I had opened my ears to the spirits.
Eldamar has blinded me to the ways of my people. So concerned have I been with her that I have forgotten my roots and my customs. I must always bear in mind the balance of life. Eldamar is only a small piece of that balance that exists in all life. She can never truly overcome the Demon Destroyer and the Demon Destroyer can never overcome her. The stalemate must always exist to allow life to grow and thrive in the dichotomy of evil and good.

I attended Oolarok's funeral, he had many friends because the church was filled with people. I stayed off to the side for there was nothing more to mourn, his soul was gone, and the rest is for the carrion. Just as the procession began I heard a familiar song lingering in the air. I followed the sounds outside only to see the all too familiar shifting of the planes. Instead of the church and mobs of people, we sat in front of a lush green grass field with a elderly lady sitting in front of us. It was Eldamar and you could see from lines of power that surrounded her that she was weakening. She informed us that with Oolarok's death her hold on our world has slipped and she would cease to exist. But she managed to infuse her essence into Megan's waiting child so that her spirit may grow within the child. She tasked us to protect the child at all costs, as it was the link for the future. The sky then turned to ash and we heard the booming laughter of the Demon Destroyer, he had managed to penetrate her realm. She told us that this would be her last stand and instantly transformed herself into a warrior maiden in gleaming armor. The last words I remember were to protect the child, it is the future.

When I blinked again I was back in the church, I felt a pang in my stomach. I knew with all we saw we must hurry to find Megan, she wasn't at the funeral. How odd, a mate not attending the death of a loved one. That fueled my suspicion that there is a little Tharn in that woman.
But with Eldamar's warning we knew that we must find out, where is Megan? …

From the memories of Sasha Uri Ramadanovitch

It was from my vantage point, standing on the main dias in the Church of Morrow, that I first saw the commotion near the great doors to the great cathedral. I had just finished my eulogy to our fallen comrade when Megan came sobbing through the crowded throng. I called for a path to be made and the mass of well wishers parted to allow the passage of the distraught woman to the front of the church.

The assembled children of Eldamar rushed to her side and feared the worst, although we had no inkling of what to expect. Through barely contained tears we found out that Margliatta had gone missing and there appeared to be signs of a struggle at the Waddock residence. We immediately ran from the church stopping only to tell the curious onlookers of Margliattas abduction.

We ran right to the house where she was last seen before her disappearance. Looking through the premises failed to turn up any clues. My comrades hopes failing fast and poor Durnick quickly becoming violent I asked for an item belonging to Margliatta.

The Roma have long held that a person leaves a residual imprint of everything we touch and I hoped to perhaps get an impression of who had taken the Dwarf's betrothed or even better where was she now!

I was given a hairpin belonging to the missing bride to be and I took the object to my temple and closed my eyes. I found it hard to control my breathing let alone my thoughts and was about to give up hope when the surprised gasps of my friends brought me back out of my trance. Words were forming up out of the dusty floorboards and when the little dust devil had finished its scribbling, the only legible script were the words "Fort Rhyker"!

The last time that I had been to Fort Rhyker, Elezain and I had single handily stalled the advancing army of evil minions that were raised up by Alexia to assault the city of Corvis. Thoughts of my fallen comrade Elezain brought back a flash of memories of all of the friends that I have known that fought and died in the cause of Eldamar.

Durnick of course was first to react, and in fact pulled me out of my melancholic funk. I then quickly told the others of the old abandoned fort and we were off at once.

Securing horses at the main gate we road hard to Fort Rhyker and reached the old keep near dinner time. Seeing no stealthy approach to the fort on the hill, and having spotted 6 heavily armed guardsmen.

We charged up to the entrance of the keep as fast as we could and engaged the armoured men soon as we were able. They fell quickly to our blades and I was dismayed to see that the men sported tabards belonging to the devilish Duke Maligant. Luckily, not all of the men had been killed and with the help of a rather cooperative hostage of our own, we also found out that there was not only The Duke awaiting within but he was also accompanied by some Dwarves and a mysterious robed figure.

We went up the Eastern tower that had supported a bridge that had lead to the other side of the ravine and a corresponding tower. On the top of the tower we were not surprised to see our old Dwarven foes on the opposite tower waiting for us.

Sarodoc spouted some crap about our having ruined his plot to take over the Dwarven council of thirteen and that he would have gotten away with it, if it weren't for us pesky kids! Malegant was fairly silent and even I could not taunt him enough to come over to our side of the chasm.

 

Galgreth of the Rat speaks …again!

Malegant and Saradoc were taunting us across the rope bridge to come and fight them on a uneven battlefield. I grew tired of there words and launched a stream of fire from the spear that burnt Saradoc. I then engaged my air walk ability and protected the others so they could cross the rope bridge safely. Once we were all across we moved together as a party only to come into the courtyard of the fort. In the middle was a unholy pentagram that seemed to be ruined for summoning. Saradoc was surrounded by two of his acolytes wielding staffs that arced lighting. To the right of him were Malegant and a hooded robed figure and two more dwarfs with heavy cannons strapped to their shoulders. We parlayed a little bit with these scoundrels, but what can really be said between people of evil and good. Growing tired of their words Durnic rushed forward and struck the dwarf priest with his mighty great hammer, which was gifted by his gods with the power of thunder. Harland moved in to engage Malegant in a one on one duel, while Sasha maneuvered to one flank and Barak to another. I glared at the robed figure and new he was a wizard, as the words of power that resonated from his voice was fueled by the arcane powers. Knowing that disrupting his spell was paramount I casted a spell of slow on the area. Only to have it dispelled in mid casting by the robed figure. Not only was this a wizard but a powerful wizard to cancel out my spells. Durnic concentrated his effort in slaying the traitorous dwarf priest of Thamar, while Barak moved in to kill his acolytes. Sasha and our new elf companion attacked the two dwarves with the heavy weaponry on their back, but were unable to avoid the barrage of cannon shells that went their way. I concentrated my spells on the wizard but found that his innate resistance to magic was too great for my magics to penetrate. The battle was going our way when the robed figure lifted his hood to reveal a desiccated face fused with metal plates. What manner of necromancy was involved with this! He completed the spell of summoning and grabbed Malegant and teleported out of the courtyard to locations unknown.

With the spell of summoning finished we watched the pentagram open to unknown depths as we watched a demon spawn climb out of the hole. Luckily for us he was anchored to the summoning circle and unable to attack within the distance we left for it. With a barrage of spells and mighty hits coming from Durnic and Harland, we managed to wound it. In a fit of rage the demon eviscerated itself from it's torso and dragged it's unanchored body outside the circle. In a fit of demonic rage it shrugged off the blows we were accomplishing. We watched as this monstrosity dropped Durnic into the hole it came out of and swallowed Sasha whole. Durnic managed to make a last attempt grab for the edge of the hole and Sasha was eventually expelled out the open entrails of the monster. Barak discharged his new staff into it's open flank and electrified it to death. We ran to stabilize Sasha and Harland to make sure we didn't have another death on our hands. We confiscated some magical items from the dead dwarves and found some magical dwarven platemail and a belt that conferred strength to it's wearer.

With this behind us we found that we had some free time to ourselves. I committed myself to my lab and begun to craft a enchanted cloak from some winter wolf pelts I had skinned. With many days I was glad to look at the end result, the magic infused in the cloak made it resistant to cold and cold like effects. I purchased some scrolls to compliment my spellbook and scribed them into my book.

From the pen of Sir Harlen

Dear Master Von

I hope that this letter finds you well. How is Caspia? Have you acquired any new students?

I realize that it has been many months since I visited with you last, but recent events in my life have shown me that I must once again pay you a visit to study the ways of the warrior.

It was only a couple of nights ago when my companions and I were engaged in a battle to the death at an old fort outside of Corvis. Amongst our enemies were many powerful foes and, to my surprise, one was a former student of yours, Malegant Vlaardoen. As the battle raged around me Malegant and I engaged in a duel . His skill with the blade was amazing and I knew that I was facing a formidable opponent of greater skill and experience.

I could see in his face nothing but contempt for my existence and with words of bravado and spite he charged at me. Thought I pivoted and parried to the best of my ability it was for naught as his blade bit into my shoulder, Malegant grinning wickedly all the time. Yet his pride would cost him, for in his contempt for my life he also had contempt for my blade and my skills.

His wicked grin soon changed to a cry of agony as Darkrazor sliced through his armor as if it were cloth and bit deep into his chest.

Both of us soaked in blood and sweat, our blades met again, but to know avail. I could not slip Darkrazor through Malegant's expertly woven web of defense.
Needing to gather my wits I decided to step back and wait for his attack, but instead of attacking he ran away from me, groping at his belt as he ran. Malegant raised a bottle to his lips and as he drank its contents to my horror his wounds began to close over. As Malegant prepared to engage me in combat once again, one of his shrouded companions grabbed his wrist. "Enough. It is time to leave this place" it said. "No I am not finished" shouted Malegant.

Suddenly, magic flowed around them both and then they were gone.

After the battle I went over each of my actions. Parry, Slice, Twist, Stab.
What had I done wrong? How had I allowed my enemy to escape?
The following morning as I practiced with Darkrazor I came to the conclusion that I had lost because my skills were incomplete .Perhaps if I had used a different grip, or stepped into an attack. I do not know the answer, but I do know there is more I must learn, and the only person who can teach me is you Master Von.

2 days after this letter reaches you, I will arrive in Caspia and hopefully will be able to continue my training under your watchful eyes.

Yours Humbly,

Harlen Smithson

 

Introducing Sindaril, our new companion!

A letter home to Ios from Sindaril Moonbringer to his sister.
Dearest Anya,
I take pen to ink to let you know of my recent exploits here in Corvis. To say things have been interesting would be a gross understatement. As you know, I have made the acquaintance of a brave adventuring band who refer to themselves as the Children of Eldamar. A more diverse group you would be hard pressed to find. I have kindly been offered a place in their company although perhaps kindly is not a word that I should apply. I understand the attrition rate is quite high. And as you know from my last letter, their enemies are many and powerful. But fear not, dear one. Despite my relative inexperience, one thing I have always been good at is avoiding injury! Why, in a recent trip to the Protectorate of Menoth, I survived a fight with a band or two of that countries dower priest patrols with nary a scratch. But I get ahead of myself. Perhaps I should start, as most stories do, at the beginning.
I spent the last month in the City just learning its workings. Corvis is a fascinating place! I thought the culture of the towns that I had visited prior to...ahem... being "asked" to leave, was vibrant. I had no idea. The sheer multitude here is staggering. And it runs the gamut from the highest high to the lowest low.
Obviously, if I am to make my way in the world of men, I must find employment. I had thought to sell my scrolls to those who might find use for them. However, the Fraternal Order of Wizards here frowns upon this. In fact, I would be "asked" to leave again if I were caught doing so. I tried exploring less than legitimate options through the criminal element of the city to no avail. It appears that they were more interested in the Children than my meagre scrolls. I would have just been an avenue to obtain favours from them. I was in no position to do so. As such, our dealings were terminated. As it turns out, that was for the better as I shall explain.
It turns out that Sasha, the wastrel I mentioned in my previous letter, had me followed. He had been watching my movements about town and knew of my attempts to sell my scrolls. He made me a better offer. He would offer to sell my scrolls for me and to provide me with contacts who might be able to help me with my more, shall we say, "quiet" skills. He even offered to house me in his home; most kind of him. Of course, I intend to pay my way. Sasha made it clear that he would expect my assistance in circumventing the more cumbersome barriers thrown up by those in a position of authority. As you know, I have never been shy when it comes to challenging rigidity in society so I readily agreed. However, I made it clear that there were some things that I would not do. I am, above all else, a moral man. Thankfully, he readily agreed. It seems we are of a similar moral suasion. I like to think that I have found a mentor, or dare I say, a friend.
A few weeks ago I was attending the regular dinner the Children have. It turns out that one of their number, Barak, had not been seen for several weeks. Father Dumas had become worried as he had been acting strangely recently. Or at least more strangely than is usual for him. Dumas suspected that he was in a tomb beneath the church. We were asked to retrieve him as familiar faces would be more likely to elicit a friendly response. We did indeed find him in the tomb, unconscious, with strange writings in a ancient tongue all over the walls. As you know, Anya, I am quite proficient with languages but I was unable to decipher them. It seems Barak had created a powerful device (out of adamantium no less!) which reacted negatively with the metal fused into his chest. However, Barak had no idea that he had created it; indeed he had no recollection of anything. Most curious. Perhaps the most curious however, was that the device he had created radiated a magic aura the like of which I have never encountered before. It was overwhelming! A being of immense power crafted that. Now, Barak may be a priest of Morrow, and no stranger to divine energies, but he is certainly not that powerful. A mystery to be delved into at a later date.
We took Barak and the device back to Dumas and left them both in his care. It was then that we were offered a proposition by one "Kit" Marlowe. It seems that he is a representative of the Cygnaran government and he wanted us to do a job for him. But first he requested that we partake of some "tactical training" offered by the military. Presumably we were to be moulded into an effective fighting unit. The training was quite intense, an culminated in a mock battle where we were outnumbered 2 to 1. We acquitted ourselves well and were declared to have passed. At least I think we were. Our instructors seemed to think we were most unconventional. Being military types, I suspect that was not a compliment.
After the training was finished, Kit informed us of the mission we were to take. We were to go to the Protectorate of Menoth to infiltrate their warjack works. War between the Protectorate and Cygnar is imminent. Cygnar needs to know their numbers and capabilities. We agreed to go. It was then that Kit introduced us to a peculiar magic device. A series of small pins were inserted behind our ears and much to my amazement, I found that we could communicate with each other merely by projecting our thoughts to one another's minds. Most disconcerting! We could even see and hear what someone else was seeing or hearing if it was projected. Truly these humans are amazing! If only our so-called leaders could be made to see their value, we would be much better off for it.
We were sent down the Black River on a large boat for several days before surreptitiously disembarking into Menoth where we were met by an operative named Marcus who was to be our guide. Marcus took us to a small town where we were to meet a second operative at a small inn. We found that operative...staked to the floor and horribly disfigured. Quite dead. It was then that we heard the sound of the inn's patrons leaving hastily in the room below us. We knew we were in a great deal of trouble. It rapidly became clear that the inn was surrounded by several squads of Menothian military which, as we later determined, included a priest and two sorcerers in addition to the fighters. A voice, the priest's, demanded that we surrender! He threw out much hyperbole about the glory of Menoth and how we were incapable of escape. You should have heard him, Anya. His pomposity would have done our leaders proud. We, of course, determined that we would not surrender, for to do so would be certain death.
I won't go into great detail regarding the fight. The soldiers set the inn on fire and we were forced to flee into the street and engage our enemies. Suffice it to say that the abilities that my companions displayed were remarkable. Harlen Smithson is quite literally the most accomplished swordsman I have ever seen. He cut a swath through the soldiers and made directly for the priest. Galgreth was throwing spells of great destruction about, devastating our foes. (It is too bad that one is so secretive and reticent to share his knowledge with me. There is much he could teach me. However, he does not strike me as one who gives his trust easily. Ah well, perhaps it is just a matter of proving myself to him.) Barak supported and protected Harlen as well as delivered some powerful blows himself. Sasha was his usual inspiring self and proved himself very adept at hand-to-hand combat. I was reduced to firing arrows from the periphery, making the occasional small contribution to the fight. Still, I feel it is only a matter of time before my contribution to the group becomes much more significant. I can't help but advance my skills in the company of such powerful men.
We won the fight of course, with no losses on our part, although some were quite injured. All our foes were dispatched. We had no choice. To let any of them live would have compromised our mission. And we still have far to go.
I must end this now Anya. I see my companions are getting ready to leave. I hope this letter finds you well. Please send my love and respect to mother and father. And greet Findol and Trathin for me as well. Try to make them understand that the humans are worthy of respect and admiration. Until I next write I remain your loving brother.
Sindaril

Well safely back in Corvis, Durnick reunited with his lady love wastes no time in putting to paper this letter ...

Durnick writes a letter.

Honoured father,

So much has happened since my last letter and visit that I hardly know where to begin.

I shall, therefore get straight to the point.

I am writing to humbly request your presence here in Corvis, that you might put forward a request to one Margliata Deepforge that I might marry her daughter Marliana. This shall involve negotiating a bride-price, an expense that I will of course cover myself.

Time is of the essence not only because of the committed nature of our relationship, but because Marliana is currently in a family way. Less than a year from now, I will be a father, and you a grandfather.

The battle against the Demon Destroyer continues, and although I have lost my dearest friend in this struggle, I still follow the leadership of the human minstrel 'Sasha Uri Ramadanovich' unquestioningly.

There is another matter you should know. Saradoc, formerly a prosecutor for the Moot, arranged for the capture of my bride-to-be to lure me into an ambush. I followed into this ambush, and killed Saradoc personally. In doing so, I recovered his enchanted hammer - a badge of the office he held and abused. I will be turning this powerful item over to you when you arrive, in the hope that you can see it delivered to a more worthy successor.

I know that I ask much and offer little in return, and I also know that in many ways I have not been the ideal son. Despite this, I pray you will see fit to make the journey down to Corvis.

In fellowship and faith, your son,

How about a day in the life of Durnick

Since Durnic's recovery from his most recent bout of insanity and depression, things have returned more or less to normal around the Belegost household. Marliana has become used to being awakened every morning either by the quiet tapping of a chisel on rock as a piece of art comes to completion, or occasionally by the somewhat louder splitting of large rocks, as the outline of a new piece crudely takes shape.

As Durnic carves, he says his morning prayers to the fore-fathers. When questioned by Marliana on one occasion about the necessity of smashing rocks before sunbreak, he responded:

"to separate my morning prayers and my carving would be like separating the activities of forging a new weapon and stoking the forge."

[although this seemed a perfectly clear explanation to Durnic, Marliana somehow failed to grasp the meaning, and patiently asked Durnic if he could be more specific as to the need to wake the entire household with the sound of splitting rock at such an ungodly hour of the morning.]

"Praying and Carving are complementary (much like red and black marble are complementary mediums when used to make architectural supports). When I am shaping the stone, I enter a trance in which I get a more honest and complete connection with the fore-fathers. I can express myself clearly about anything, and am able to communicate not only in words, but my feelings, experiences, and desires. Similarly, I am totally receptive to their own spoken and unspoken guidance. Although I can pray without carving, the complexity and subtlety of the communication and the relationship is lost - and my prayers are reduced to mere words."

Marliana accepted this, reluctantly, and wondered sadly why her own attempts to communicate with the obsessed Dwarf seemed so desperate and ineffective. The Older dwarf clearly loved her - when he wasn't distracted or obsessed with his art. He would lavish attention upon her, complementing her on her "finely chiseled features, her eyes which glowed like star-fire stones under the full moon, her rock-hard body, her perfectly sculpted arms, legs, and abdominal muscles". But despite her love of the dwarf, and his complementary carving analogies, she felt he didn't really perceive her more intimate needs. His obsession with carving and with rocks was frustrating her, and she seemed unable to communicate her unhappiness. She desperately complained to her mother "I just want to know that he loves me enough to marry me - I want to know that I am more than a distraction from his demon-quest, his prayers, and his carving. Even his complements say more about his obsession with carving that his love for me. I want him to ask me to marry him, and I've been as obvious with him as a brick to the face! ["By the blasted fore-fathers", she thought, "now he's got me doing it!"]

Dutifully, Marliana usually makes an excellent breakfast for the family - a breakfast that is well suited for their hearty nature. Sasha dropped by one morning for breakfast, and enjoyed the pebble-cakes so much that he stated:

"This is the most excellent dwarven meal I've ever tasted. Truly, I insist on buying you all breakfast at the muse for our future morning meetings - for I cannot possibly impose upon you to feed me such authentic Dwarven fare, when all my wealth could not possibly repay you for food of this quality." [as Sasha left that morning, he held his cheek and grimaced painfully - something he attributed to a sore cheek from a recent battle] Marliana blushed at such a fine complement from Sasha, of course. He was, after all, extremely good-looking and charming for a human.

After breakfast, Durnic and Marliana would often go for long walks or shopping trips through town. As they walked, they maintained almost constant physical contact, as they were both shared a strong need for physical connection to make up for their stunning inability to communicate through words. Unlike many men, Durnic quite enjoyed these walks and shopping trips with his girlfriend. As Marliana talked about her feelings, babbled about their relationship, and admired the occasional dress or ring, Durnic mindlessly said 'uh-huh' and 'yes, dear', while constantly admiring the beauty and art that he found in even the simplest of carvings and constructs - something that Corvis had no shortage of. Marliana, being a very patient soul, remained optimistically [albeit naively] convinced that at least some of her conversation was getting through to Durnic. Besides, there were always a few moments during these walks that Durnic would put aside his distractions and actually pretend to understand her feelings. Yes, there was no doubt that Marliana and Durnic enjoyed these trips equally.

In the afternoons, Marliana often spends time with her mother or with Meagan. They talk, shop, do crafts, and do whatever else it is that girls do when they get together. Every so often, Margliata makes Marliana assist her in her work as a Scribe - work that her mother feels 'builds character'. Marliana thinks that this sort of work simply builds chronic wrist soreness and boredom.

Sometimes, unbeknownst to everyone, Marliana visits the local Fighter's guildhouse. She has not given up completely on her childhood dream of becoming an adventurer, and has been doing some training. Recently, she ran into Harlan there, as he saw her engaged in some heavy combatives. When confronted by the warrior from Analise, she confessed that she still has the occasional fantasy about adventuring. She begged him not to tell Durnic or the others of her training or of her dream to adventure one day, as she is afraid (probably with good reason) that he would not approve.

Evenings are a social time. The whole family shares a love for excessive food and drink, and Marliana and Margliata are both excellent cooks. The whole family also loves to have company over and drink to excess - and Durnic drinks heavily even for a dwarf. By late evening, they are all quite smashed.

TOTALS:

Player Total Level

Sasha 34788 8

Harlen 29101 8*

Durnic 30386 8

Galgreth 22953 7

Barak 13990 5

Sindaril 8841 4

*passed a level this session