I found Sable to be ever so much more inviting than home had ever been.
Folks here would happily give me the cloak off their back and I would
often find myself showered with gifts for little more than a smile or
a song. And while most of my guildmates were wonderfully friendly, I
do believe the dour Mourningstar must find my manner annoying, because
he was threatening to sell me off to Clan Shiva!
But here must be where I should be. Everything is working out so
wonderfully for me. I've managed to appease the Aether too, since
moving to Sable, as well as Prove to myself that I wouldn't die just
for going underground. Ever since that happened to me the day I
foolishly followed a young fighter below, I'd been apprehensive about
any spelunking, but I've overcome that. Now if I could only do
something about the SMELL of the sewers!
I fear I made quite an ignorant fool of myself at a sermon not long ago,
but the Paladin Serith of Mortis was kind enough to explain to me at great
length our place amongst the Aether. And though I believe my place lay
ultimately with Lady Chronos, and not his master, I still am very thankful
he took the time to take me aside.
I've made many wonderful friends lately, among them such notables as my
guildmistress Thalia, who actually seems happy to hear about my latest
exploits and Wyden the Paladin of Erosia who actually WILL drop whatever
he is doing to come rescue a lost kitten who's trapped by giant hornets.
But my closest friend so far has to be Quisallin the gnome, of the ebon
cloak set. Surprisingly we both happened to spend years among the Romani,
but since he is well over a century my elder, he left long before I was
ever born and our times there did not overlap."
After the Aethereal shift, I'd heard there were new temples in the land,
so I of course set out to find them. And find them I did. First the
frigid glacial wonder that is the Ice Queen's temple, and the last one
I finally found was after quite a search, let me tell you! I wonder if
Lord Belphegore really wants many followers... perhaps he uses the quest
to find His temple as a way to thwart those who would not be dedicated
to His purposes? But enough about that.
The one find that has meant the world to me would be that wonderful,
fortunate day I stumbled my way into Mother Herastia's loving embrace!
To learn that She held dear nearly everything I had always longed for
was enough to leave me gaping for what must have been hours as I stood
in Her temple.
The road that followed wasn't easy, of course. Considering my life-long
ambivalence, to strive to "walk in the light" as they say was daunting!
But what can I say? It's like Qui was always saying... "when you find
where you belong, you'll KNOW it from the inside." Funny, that. Since
his Lady Luck was treading the middle ground, now HE was looking to sidle
more to the center of things, and here I was getting ready to dive right
into the whole paragon spotlight. An ironic trade-off.
And Mother Herastia's chosen... let me tell you! I am still just getting
comfortable just being in the presence of Dhelta (I could never get "used"
to her!). She's been absolutely wonderful to me, and was working with me
for months before finally came the day of my actual conversion.
If you've ever stood before the a Thracian Judge or Court Magistrate to
be have your life judged, you MIGHT understand. I felt like She was
looking straight into my very soul to see if there was good enough to be
found. It's a damn frightening feeling. And when the last vestiges of
anything NOT wholesome are scraped and ripped out, it leaves you feeling
like you may never be able to walk again. But isn't anything truly
worthwhile worth the cost? I do believe that Dhelta kept pretty good
accounts of the whole ceremony.
I haven't mentioned before, and I really don't know why, but I'd been
seeing a young mage name of Zortyn. He's since joined up with the new
sorcerers, and even proposed marriage! We don't have a date set for a
wedding yet, though Wyden seems more anxious that we tie that bond than
either of us are!
The next day etched permanently into my skull is the 13th of Torrid, 231.
It was late morning, heading into noon, when Quisallin and I fulfilled
our special quest and swore our bloodoath to each other. To be bathed in
the beam Tempest's lightning cast... to know that even death could never
remove us from one another... I pray everyone can one day know that kind
of absolute belonging, love, trust, confidence... oh words fail me!
The day has finally arrived! Twilight 17, 232. For this is the day that
I devoted to Mother Herastia! As I awaited a boat to get to Thrace, this
hymn of praise sprung almost of its own volition into my mind:
O power divine! O charity! Aether's choicest blessings wait on Thee! In Thee the source of every grace, In Thee the soothing balm of peace! What happiness can equal mine? I've found the object of my quest. Mother Herastia, Queen Divine Has let me come into Her rest! |
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Elidia has become a worshiper of
Herastia, Goddess of Home, Hearth, and Invention
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I feel more complete now than I have ever before in my whole life!
Zortyn and I are planning for an early Renasci wedding, so it won't be long
now before I am Mrs. Cloudrender! Wyden suggested Dalaena and she agreed
to perform a ceremony for us, though I have to admit I'm not sure what if
anything to expect. Amongst the Romani a wedding is basically the prelude
to a party after the woman moves into the man's tent or cart. Lots of Raki
flowing, music playing, dancing and revelry. I wonder what a chapel wedding
is like... I suppose I'll find out in a couple more months.
Oh the days they are a turning. It's been months since Zortyn and I were
wed, and it was indeed a beautiful circle that Dalaena led for us in the
Chapel. And I've been growing much closer to Nescet and Wyden and the
others from Agathos that it seems inevitable that I will one day be among
them. Oh, I certainly hope so! Year 233 has been a good year.
I hear that my guildmistress came to the ceremony wearing not a stitch, but no one even noticed, as they were all
eying my ensemble. I designed my wedding dress to reflect my Romani heritage, so it wasn't exactly Sable traditional.
Picture if you can this outfit: I had a layered scarf skirt which was quite sheer and would probably be see-through if it
weren't so layered. It was made of many differing colored sheer scarves that hung to about halfway
between the knee and ankle and billowed out in the slightest breeze. On top of that was my cream
shoulderless blouse; a simple offwhite top that left the shoulders bare and clung tightly to the
waist. The collar was a plain scoop neck, edged in a narrow band of satin ribbon. More satin
ribbon pulled tight at my elbow to form puffy sleeves. Graceful tan leather straps held my sandals
on, and they criss-crossed up to tie at the knee. The straps were occassionally threaded through
amber and gold beads at cross-over points, and the beats glinted merrily when they caught the light.
These sandals and my pineapple pendant charm were gifts from Delta in the past. I met the blouse and
skirt at my waist with a cream and silver embroidered belt which fastened with a simple silver clasp
in front, and had an embroidered pattern all along it of interlocking silver lyres. Finally, I had
a white sheer lace veil attached to a simple satin ribbon circlet that fit snugly on my head. The
panels hanged below my shoulders, with one pulled to the front to cover my face.
234. Clan Agathos. What can I say but, gee I hope I'm half the kitten
they think I am! And I hadn't even finished my journeymanship in the
bard's guild.
Oh, but I was so close I could taste the ink that would surely dry on my
exam as I vied for a spot amongst the elders of the guild. You know, the
instructors certainly charge a lot for their lessons! And now, at long
last, I am completing my initial journeys through the academia of the
guild and into my hopefully more mature life as wife to my dearest Zor,
devoted follower of Mother Herastia, and now also a proud member of my
Clan Agathos. May the Light of Right burn ever brighter through me in
all my words, deeds and intents!
These latest years have been ones full of upheaval, that is certain. At
first was horrendous time when the Aether withheld from us their blessings
of the marriage sacrament. For weeks, many would gather in the Cleric's
Hall and beg the Aether for forgiveness of ever having taken the vows so
lightly. Many fingers would point and say this one or that had broken his
vows and brought this on us, but others would faithfully come to the vigil
to prostrate themselves in atonement for all mortals having ever taken the
gifts of the Aether for granted. I know I myself thought my own vows of
oath and marriage were unshakable.
And yet, one year almost to the day after the Aether had finally decided
to grant to us anew the wonderous blessings of marital commitment, my own
spouse dallied in the darkness with another and, apparantly feeling guilty
after, felt he could not even face me but rather wrote a letter to tell me
of his indiscretions. My heart nearly fell out of my chest of its own when
I read of the affair he had. So much so I apparantly ran off and found my
own way to Lord Mortis' solace and Lady Vivoria's recovery, only to have my
heart freshly rend itself when I found his letter again.
We tried many months, Zortyn and I, to mend our relationship. He agreed, or
at least said that he agreed, that he was remorseful and would do anything
to make amends, even including praying at every temple, tithing an orb each
to every Diety, and avoiding HER at all costs. And for a time it seemed
that all was well. And he was succeeding well in his studies, joining his
clan and working to join the justicars as well.
But it all fell apart. Basically, what Zortyn wants is what Zortyn does, and nothing else
matters. I learned that he had gone back to spending time with Nystelin, whom he had sworn
to both me and Dalaena he would avoid. And there was the incident where he and I were returning
to Sable and I was sent to Mortis by Atomie. That in itself was not so incredulous, but the
fact that he called on a Gethite for assistance is inexcusable! Not his churchmates, not my churchmates
or clanmates, but a lying, manipulating seductress!
And he avoided me for months, refusing even to answer my mail begging to hear word of him.
One time, while lamenting to Tirsyn in the Griffon that I never saw nor heard him, I happened to
hear Zortyn announce to the realm he was interviewing applicants to assume his responsibilities
in running the 4H Mission. He had time to pursue this, but not to tell his wife he was alive? When I
went to that site and came in to talk with him after his last interview, he merely dragged out the
same old, tired whining of how horrible a man he was and how he always made mistakes and always would.
It's become so common from him that some have dubbed this his "gnomewerks' patented sob story."
It should come as no surprise that the day finally came when my request
of court was granted and my separation official. This was only the start
of what I now believe to be the absolute worst year of my life. First the
divorce. Then Alentar... there's quite a story that goes to that, but to
put it short and bluntly, Vindicator's wolves fell on him not once, but
twice, while we were both only just rewaking at Lady Vivoria's temple from
our misadventure into the Ironwood. The carnage is seered into my soul.
Months later they came for Lamorak as well, and Agathos was culled anew.
The day I managed to fall dead at my cleric's feet after aaaaaaalmost
making it away from a gaint hornet has to rank up there, too (Dhelta told
me all about it later, and kept an account of the incident
in her journal).
As my 49th year drew to an end, I worked up an old gypsy tale into a full-
blown, three-act drama, and we were able to get a good production of the
Gypsy Bard. Delryn was quite a smashing lead, and I've heard many great
comments. I so want to be known as a serious talent, and not merely one
who can write a cute ditty!
The summer of my fiftieth year I joined the STEA. It seems only natural
to help newcomers to the city find their way. I hosted a fishing contest
shortly after joining, and everything went smashingly.
Ah, the life of a muse is an interesting one, I must admit. Ever since
Alentar's fall from grace, I'm pretty much the last bard of Good ethos
left in the guild. I certainly hope it won't be too many years before I
have other guildmates who walk in the light!
After much inner constarnation and questioning, I have decided to follow
my High Priestess's advice and not limit myself to looking only to men
for companionship. Imuri, Priestess of Erosia, also helped put my mind
at ease over this issue, noting that Erosia has blessed many marriages
of those who by species are incapable of reproducing, so that which I
thought was a major issue turns out to be irrelevant.
I met a cute kitten Psion named Xuxa and we've been seeing each other for
a little while now. She's something of an enigma to me yet, being at times
introverted and other times downright sulky, and yet we seem to have strong
feelings for each other.
Years come and go, and still this kitten lives alone. Xuxa, too, has
disappeared. Ah, well, I travel often enough anyway.
Did I say years of upheaval before? Years 256 and 257 makes everything that has come
before seem downright trivial. I mean, when one travels abroad, one expects HOME to
stay, well, familiar when you return at least! Not so this time.
Sable still had smoldering ruins barring passage in many streets when I stepped
off the boat that day. I learned that, in my absence, there had been an orcish
invasion as if from the days of King Glamis himself, destroying many familiar
landmarks. And if that were not bad enough, His Majesty was missing and presumed
captured. Oh, and there was the little incident of our clan being at war.
Yes, clanwar. A war brought by the dark ones who, while banded together in what can
only be described as a fair-sized war party, mobbed and slew Wyden who was himself
taking his ease in the Green Griffon. Many faulted him for drawing us into war
without consultation, but I for one will not turn my back on promises I've made,
and that includes supporting my clanmates in such endeavors as this.
In the fillowing months, the support we originally had waned fast. Many who first
pledged alliance with Agathos withdrew from the conflict after facing heavy
casualties at the hands of our antagonists. Even clanmates left, many under
strong pressure from loved ones to separate themselves from Wyden. Every one who
left the clan in those months cited Wyden's long absence (shortly after the war
began, Wyden was called away on religious duties, and we barely heard from
him for weeks at a time), and the fact that he declared the war without consulting
the clan. But we cannot stand indefinitely waiting to see what might happen.
I remember when I first joined Agathos, Wyden himself told me that I would
likely be called upon to make sacrifices. sacrifices in tribute, even in
part of my self--sacrifices in my time and very soul with those who would
become my clan brothers and sisters. I fear the time came to make
just such a painful sacrifice. To turn out a brother who is more a
father or close friend. To end the war, that we might all concentrate on the
true enemies of the realm, those damned orcish invaders (who were using this
time of division as a great diversion for THIER causes!), we of Agathos did
petition Vindicator to remove Wyden as clanleader.
Not many months after, those of the dark churches gained dominance throughout the realm,
raising worship of Set into dominance.
These are dark days indeed for our home. I pray I will live to see a resurgence to the light.
Where to start, where to start... it's been many years since the last time I took
quill to parchment. It seems we all got so busy during the demon invasions.
After Agathos disbanded, I thought things had gotten their worst. And I was so wrong.
The Demons came, and seemed to wrest power from the very realm, severing our contact
with the Aether themselves for a time. First Mortis's Paladin was captured, then
later returned, recounting a horrendous ordeal he suffered. And later, Meeki herself
was taken from us and, rumor has it, rendered to a stew for the heretic horde.
All the folk of the city united, more or less, to repel this demon threat. The Calypsans
were able lead us in an ancient ritual to erect a barrier that would keep them from opening
their foul gates into Sable proper, and this helped for a time.
Then, amidst raging debate on whether it were a good idea or a weste of time and resources,
a Shrine devoted to all the Aether was raised out past Kelnore. During the dedication
ceremony where each of sixteen carved pillars was dedicated, a massive column errupted
from the center of the shrine and shot towards the sky. At the base of that column, a
large, ever-lit flame bloomed and continues to burn to this day. May it never extinguish!
But then the sickness came. A foul rotting that seemed to erode you from the inside.
Drastic measures were enacted, including a cleric-ordered ban on touching. Scholars
throughout the realm worked feverishly as those of us infected prayed for an end to
the suffering until, finally, a curative prayer was granted. The poor clerics worked
non-stop for weeks to turn the tide and heal us all.
At least, for now, all is quiet on the invasion front. Unfortunately, I know it is not
an end to the wars. Until the heretic demons who would depose the Aether have been
driven from the realm, it will never be wholly over.
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