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#13016149 Jan 25, 2017 at 12:14 PM
49 Posts

There is an old bound journal that shows its age and it's well use, usually tucked away though often kept within her things as she travels. Where it begins with private thoughts, feelings and notable or special events throughout the years, there is a vast break between one entry and the next about three-quarters of the way through. There is no discernible date when the author began making use of the book once more, only that it devolved into short notes, lists or random scribbling of things she needed to remember.
#13016156 Jan 25, 2017 at 12:16 PM · Edited over 1 year ago
49 Posts
24 January, 38 L.C.

It is has been some time since I used this book for it's intended purpose, but I suppose that now is as a good time as any. So much has happened and changed since the unfledged girl began to write within it's pages. But here I am again, with so much hanging in the air, so many things left unsaid. I can almost physically feel it slowly choking me bit by bit. Perhaps at least writing things out, getting the thoughts out of my head will help to alleviate it some. It's better than nothing at all.

I had been avoiding one of the two I love best in this world. Colwyn's reappearance was a glad one, or at least it was until he relayed the wishes of our Arglwydd.

"The Arglwydd predicts that you, Syr Eirianwen, will be removed your post from the Bleiddiaid first...You will take the resignation. This is a command from your liege."

Already I had suffered the loss of things that I had held so dear, losing piece by piece of myself, only to keep having what makes me me ripped away. And here was another, sacrificed in the name of this game being played. My wing, my men. I had earned that title through the blood and sweat paid in the years leading up to and then after I had taken up my mantle. I would have died gladly that day, if only to spit in that spiteful face of Alyd ap Dylan. To have taken out Gawain if I could, but it was not to be. I had to bear the snide glee oozing from the Cysefin and those others I had once fought beside, had once protected while I was stripped of my position and sent away. Perhaps it is petty, seeing as though as War Prior I am on equal standing with Gawain the Red Fox, but I've been Bleiddiaid for over a decade, and I will be Bleiddiaid until the day I depart from this earth.

But I digress. These things, they had been eating at me since Colwyn brought the order down, and only grew worse afterwards. Llewellan's return should have been a joyful one, no matter the coming battles, but I resented him for what was asked of me. And perhaps yes, I may have made a wee bit of a dent in Colwyn's whiskey stash, but this hurt only brought on the memory of past hurts, and I could not bear it. I'd thought myself past feeling such things, but the weakness is still there. Little things have chipped away at the walls I had so carefully constructed, and the cracks are showing. They're bringing about things I've no right to be feeling, things I do not care to be feeling. It was different when there were other things to focus on, riding out with my men to oversee, orders to fulfill, it gave me purpose. Without it, I am lost. And whether he somehow sensed this, or simply because I had not been there as I should have been, Llewellan called me in and took me to task in that way he does.

"Cut down the drinking, Eir, for it only dulls your pain and anger; use your pain and anger to ready yourself... "

Little does he know of the pain that serves to fuel me each and every day, as it has since the best part of me died. I have learned to embrace it, mold it in a fashion to keep me going until my purpose has been realized. But this fresh blow, I don't know. It hit me far harder than it should have, and I didn't take it well. I can admit that, at least to myself. I won't have it troubling Llewellan, not with so much else resting on his shoulders and troubling his mind.

Things are happening. Change is coming once again. No matter what comes about, I will be there shoulder to shoulder with my best friends and the others that he has managed to call to his side to see my lord's dream come to realization.

Addendum: Perhaps I should have taken this back up some time ago. It would appear I have something to say after all.

#13030245 Jan 31, 2017 at 01:01 PM · Edited 1 year ago
49 Posts
Early Morning, 31 January, 38 L.C.

Where do I even begin? How few days have passed since last I had last put my pen to paper, and yet so much has happened.

Another traitorous snake has been found in our midst, this one a hard blow as it came from nowhere. Martyn the Treebeard. The Dewiniaid are an odd bunch on the best of days, but never would I have thought to see one of his stature fall into Iwan's camp. But fallen he had, and nearly tugged Hywen right along with him, the poor fool. At the very least he was unmasked and we gained the blessing of the Wolf Coats, or at least those who defected from their seniority and survived the escape. Any additional force we can gather can only work in our favor in the coming days.

On a lark I decided to attend some festival in honor of the Lunar celebrations and while I had had my doubts, I'm glad that I made the choice that I did. It was a lovely thing. Entirely too crowded , but lovely nonetheless. It happened to be that Sir Owaeran was of a similar frame of mind, so we two found a nice little spot away from the main of the crowds. Oh in time others would join us. Colwyn and the woman he's taken so well with of late, the cardinal, the Highlord and Garcia. Others too would filter back and forth as the night progressed on. Despite Llewellan's edict, I couldn't say how much of our fine whiskey was imbibed when all was said and done, a large portion of it going to Sir Owaeran as he's apparently already taken a liking to it. But it seemed an enjoyable evening for all who attended, aside from some tiff or another that happened towards the end. Oh, and too some foolishness Colwyn thought to try, enticing that Oathbourne fellow. Thankfully nothing too terrible came of it, though I'll admit to being surprised by the kindness discreetly offered by two gallants. Of course I could have crushed the boy beneath my heel, but it would have caused a scene, and been inappropriate to boot.

Sir Owaeran. He's been another sort of a surprise. It's been some time since I fell in so easily with someone. He drew my attention at our last gathering of the Silver Hand. He spoke sense when others were too concerned about hurting feelings or stepping on toes. His desire to see the Forsaken mercilessly wiped out was also noted, as was his old ties to the Scarlets. Each time we've spoken it's only cemented my appreciation for our shared ideals, and this newfound fervor he's developed for assisting us reclaim the Vale. Then too, he's a true gentleman. Even when well lost in his cups, he was never inappropriate, despite what others kept assuming as they wandered back to the little niche we had claimed. I managed him safely home to his farm, settled him in with a bit of a potion mam orders me to keep on hand to stave away the worries of a head on the next morning. It was the least I could do for not cutting him off sooner, but I'll not deny the amusement of watching one fall under the unexpected heft of our drink. All was well, however. I tucked him in and left him to his dreams despite his kind offer of a spare bed.

It happened again. It was weakness, pure and simple. Still, I'm...glad it did.

The other evening found us all gathered back at Tyr's Hand for the trial of Martyn and Hywen. Death for the unrepentant traitor. Hywen, thankfully, was spared. I had been tempted to approach Llewellan prior to the trial to voice concerns over how things had happened with the huntsman, but as always, I trusted my friend. He does not act rashly, and he would be fair. The opportunity still came about, and I was able to speak for him. Whether or not these were factors Llewellan had already weighed and simply wanted another to bring about, I'll not know. But Hywen was granted his life as well as the opportunity to regain his position if he were to complete a task set by the Arglwydd. Irritating though he can be, I would like to believe his heart is true when all is said and done. He thought he was doing a favor to the mages, bringing them information and technology from the Shal'dorei. He was as taken in as we were, only that he was used as their unknowing puppet. A mistake, yes, but not one worth dying for.

After Martyn's execution, Llywelyn turned up with even more unexpected and heartbreaking news. Iwan made his move. Any and all who were loyal to Llewellan were ejected from the refuge. Those who objected or fought back were either jailed or killed. He told me of the end brought about to Meirion and Yorath, that their wings, or what was left of them were locked up. Alyd and Eleri both, Gawain as well. Every man or woman who has sided with them and Iwan of their own volition - their days are all numbered. It was a hard thing to hear, harder yet to know that among all of the chaos, Colwyn had been there. Even now I remember those words all but knocking the wind out of me, the fury, the pain. The fear. Llewellan had been pulled aside to be briefed, and his reaction...well. In light of things, there was some faint amusement to be had in that our roles had been reversed. He was ready to rush in blindly, and it was I, as well as the others counselling him to patience. We will be marching out any day now.

A part of me - the greater part, I'll admit - thirsts for the blood of the traitors. Justice will be served, debts will be paid. Perhaps it is inappropriate for someone who sits in the position that I do, but I was a soldier before I found the Light's grace. Some things are not relinquished so easily, and while I know it's against the teachings - not all things can be forgiven. Sometimes there are just people so far past redemption that there is no other option. Our people have suffered so much, to only divide us and bring more suffering? There will be no mercy. I'm eager for this battle that looms. I relish in the challenge these fools think they're fit to lay down. Dyfarniad calls for their blood and I seek to fulfill that call.

Another part is scared, so scared. I have to lock that part of me away, though it niggles at the back of the mind. What if we fail? What if Colwyn hasn't managed to escape? What if they've captured him and are toying with him in retaliation for Treebeard? Llewellan is only just fully recovered from the loss of his cousin - I cannot even fathom what the loss of Colwyn would do to him. Just even thinking these thoughts makes it hard to breathe. It hurts so much and I'm so fearful of what answers we are lacking right now. I know Heddwyn was correct in that we can only deal with things as they come at us, but I still worry, I still fret. I can only pray that the Gods are listening and grant their mercy on us all, that the Light will shield Colwyn until we can be reunited once more.
#13037677 Feb 03, 2017 at 10:12 AM
49 Posts
How do I


They brought him back. I don't know how, but they did.

Weak. I was so weak and ineffective

I can't do this again

His voice

Did nothing. Nothing but hindered these people and more got hurt unnecessarily

I'd have done the same again if needed to.

Never thought I'd hear him call for me again...he was right there and I could do nothing to stop him from fading away all over again.


The page is a mass of stricken through half thoughts and words, and tiny round splatters where the ink had run from fallen tears before she finally just scribbled viciously through it all and tossed the journal aside.
#13044693 Feb 06, 2017 at 10:00 AM · Edited 1 year ago
49 Posts
Mid-morning; 6 February, 38 L.C.

Sweet Light what has even happened here?

With all that has taken place in the span of the past month or so, one would think that I would have become immune to the crazy things being lobbed my way. There have been such heart wrenching lows, a high that briefly sent me to be one with the stars, and so very many things in between, I do not even know how I should be feeling right now.

Even now whenever I close my eyes I see him staring back at me Drystan as he was that split second before he dissolved into blood right there before me. How could someone as revered and trusted as Treebeard fall so far to have done such a horrible thing to anyone, let alone Drystan? As I write these words, there is still some tiny flicker of hope that there is some way to decimate the spell that binds him to the Gwaeddon and still manage to keep him here, to keep him here with me. But in doing so how would that make me any different from those who practice their twisted and vile magics? A part of me doesn't care. I want to be able to throw caution to the wind, to selfishly take him for myself and be damned of the consequences. Light help me, but even said such things out loud to Iorweth after everyone had dispersed from the War Council.

Though that is getting ahead of myself.

Just to top off the chaos of that night, Llywelyn surprised me with actually making sense for more than a brief moment. He sought me out after Brady kindly offered me a few days off duty, and we two sat down like two children cuddled together against the storm outside. It was weak to give myself over so completely to shatter to pieces as I had then, but with him there it didn't seem quite so bad. None of the others who had been there could have truly understood what had happened that night, the ramifications of it all. He did though, and somehow he was there when I needed someone as much as I did just then. It didn't stop me from stepping away after he had finally given in to sleep, the walls were closing in hard and fast and I needed to escape. Escape I did, and somehow my wandering led me to another sanctuary of sorts by the way of Sir Owaeran. I admit, there is not much I recall in those few days. His was a soft presence there in the corner of my mind, seeing that there was food should I require it, checking in from time to time but not smothering me. I believe Garcia had been there at some point, but I could not say why.

It is something I still cannot seem to wrap my thoughts around. How did it happen this way? How did he manage to slip in so carefully that I didn't even realize what was happening until... I'm content when I'm caring for the people around me, but receiving it in turn is not something I'm greatly familiar with. And it is these men, three of the most unlikely who have stepped in when I needed someone there to lean on. Bradian, even though he was and probably is still vexed with me in light of recent things, brought me an unexpected measure of peace and opened the way for me to accept things I may have not otherwise. Llywelyn, a bulwark and probably the most unexpected of them that kept me from breaking completely when it would have been so very easy to. And then Sir Owaeran, who on top of his kindness in allowing me a respite in his care, even went so far as to fix my armor that had been so badly damaged in that final fight. It's a baffling thing, but I'm so grateful to them that I doubt I'll ever be able to thank them properly enough. Even Hywen in his way, his words now I can look back on and grant that he spoke truth that I did not want to hear at that time. Perhaps I will thank him one day, but I fear it'll give him too big a head.

On to the War Council gathering that was the night before. A conglomerate of our people, a rather loud Ironspine and the Remnant banded together to lay out the battles to come. Three bands of Wolf Coats were in place to scout and report, and though the information they were able to provide is invaluable in the days to come, the price of that information was a dear one. Once the dust settles we will have to provide a tribute to those brave men we lost last night, as well as all of those who have fallen thus far and will yet fall before victory is won. It was a difficult time, with raised voices, tempers flaring and people talking over one another, but things were accomplished. Martyn even raised his head when a foolish mage thought it wiser to scry rather than send in our men. I hate to be the one to say 'I told you so', but I cannot seem to help myself. The power of even one of his minions was enough to set my teeth on edge and nearly bring me to my knees, I cannot fathom tangling directly with Martyn or exposing myself freely to his magic. I will, however, take a moment to admire my own personal restraint. It has been some time that my temper was so pricked, the supreme temptation it had been to vault over the table and physically silence a voice or two. I didn't though, no matter how satisfying it may have been.

A far more pleasant surprise however, stood quietly behind the Arglwydd for most of the evening. Iorweth has returned. I daresay his appearance staggered me nearly as much as Drystan's. But as I told him freely, his timing is a thing of beauty as I am well aware that Llewellan needs people who love him surrounding him and supporting him through these times. It was another catharsis for me as well. These men who in another time and another place may have been my brothers, Llywelyn and now Iorweth both had the power to help me to purge the things have been eating away at me. Much like Drystan was able to somehow wheedle me this way and that, pushing me without me ever realizing the gentle nudging to a place that I didn't even realize I wanted to be, both of these two had the same way about them. Whether it was Llywelyn's urging to embrace the tears that I had never shed or Iorweth's gentle touch way about him that invited me to speak on things I've never given voice to but ate away at me silently. Even in the light of morning, I still have no idea how things fell into place as they did. So much change in so short a time. I'll never be the girl I was ten years ago, the broken thing I had been a year ago, the woman I was this time yesterday. And for the first time in a very, very long time - I am okay with this.

No regrets.
#13054749 Feb 10, 2017 at 03:54 AM
49 Posts
10 February; 38 L.C.

Alyd is dead.

Alyd was the guiding hand behind the deathstalker that took Drystan from this world and from our people, from me.

Even writing it out, it still doesn't seem real. So many things are so surreal, here the morning after so much loss of life. It weighs so heavily on Llewellan, and will only continue to weigh him despite the righteousness of his crusade. I ache for my friend. The games that I was thrust into for his pleasure to set the kindle to smoking still eat at me, but it does not stop me from grieving for him and the burden he carries. We lost so many on both sides tonight, but I'm trying to think of it positively. We had to rid ourselves of the decay to make room for renewal, a fresh place to start once the dust settles. Those men and women knew they faced death even as we did, at least on some level though we were equally as sure that we would come out victorious. So many faces I knew as well as my own. The land there is stained with their blood, as it is stained with the blood of that bastard Alyd.

Mine as well, as I'm reminded even now with an uncomfortable sensation. An itch that is just out of reach to scratch and the deep ache that I yet feel from the cold steel of Alyd's ax burying itself. The first time I touched the face of death was those years ago and thanks be to the Light's grace and it's fortitude that I was able to survive that night, especially when so many did not. Just as it was last evening. Alyd had been able to land blows even as I did, Llewellan and other allies as well. I was foolish, only concerned with bringing him down and nothing else. He was lucky, or at least luckier than I in the split second it took for his ax to carve itself into my chest. In hindsight I can only remember the sound of the metal of his ax grinding against the metal of my breastplate, the brief touch of agony before his confession deafened me to all but his words that filled my ears.

"You always rushed in without looking, Eirian. It's why you're easy to exploit... and it's why it was easy to lure your precious Drystan and the others into that trap by the Forsaken, by my hand."

Those words followed me into the darkness where there was nothing else.

And then...I don't know. The Light is a part of me, so ingrained that it just simply is. I know how to wield it, I feel it all around me in every living thing. This, this was something else entirely. As surely as I was tethered that time before, something else was able to call me back into my mortal shell. I could hear the battle raging around me and me unable to move, unable to do anything as the darkness lingered to knit back together torn skin and shattered bone.

I remember that I heard Iorweth as I cannot say that I've ever heard him.

As I wrote that he glanced over here. This is hardly the time I realize all too well, but I cannot deny the effect he has wrought in me. Just that quick little thrill as if he knew I was thinking of him in that second. Or still am.

I digress.

It couldn't have been more than a handful of minutes though it seemed so much longer, but Raistlinn had brought me back. I'm grateful, more grateful than I'll ever be able to voice. It's just so very odd, the contrast of his magic against what runs through me. Either way, I was back on my feet and Light forgive me, but even as I was settling back into my skin I felt as I never have before. Though I was healed I still felt the hole in my chest, the ache from Alyd's blow - but it was rivaled and surpassed by a rage that I'd never seen the likes of. His taunting still rang in my ears and I realized in that moment that I hated the man. Hated him so much for the hurt he caused Llewellan, the hurt he caused so many lost souls. For what he did to Drystan and all the people who fought alongside us. Yes, Iwan pulls the strings but Alyd has lingered there in my peripheral for so long causing me an unease. I hated him so much that I couldn't even move for the longest time until Llewellan called for me to execute him.

So I did. And I would do it a hundred, nay a thousand times over again if I had the opportunity.

I couldn't even enjoy whatever release might have come from his death before Angelique was there to voice her displeasure for what had happened. That I and the others should have found it in us to forgive the man who was at one point known as Alyd ap Dylan. She seemed to be disturbed that Llewellan and I both gave our blessing for Raistlinn to ensure his soul's eternal torment in whatever lays in the beyond.

It irritated me. It still does.

So where does this leave us?

Llewellan has stepped aside to mourn, and I have to thank Celestinea for being there beside him. For me? There is so much turmoil and uncertainty in the days to come. Iorweth takes a great deal of it from me just by being here, his arms ever reaching out for me when I need them most even if it's for no reason at all. It is my most sincere hope that he finds the same peace, the same comfort in return to what he has granted me.

I've another scar to mark another dance with Death. The first reminds me of innocence lost, and of a time and a life...lives lost to the past. This one? It already makes me think of what I stand to lose if I'm so careless again. It scares me. I'd be lying if I said otherwise. But it also reminds me to stand firm and that those who have earned their punishment will come into what is due to them. There are many battles still left to come. Colwyn must be found, he and the others taken prisoner must be freed. Martyn must be dealt with for good. Drystan, he must also be found and returned to rest along with the other poor souls the bastard has bound. Gawain. Mwynen. Iwan. And then, should we see the sun rise that following day - we can start anew.

Alyd is dead.
#13064224 Feb 14, 2017 at 08:06 AM
49 Posts
Sunday 12 February, 38 L.C.

"If that is where your heart truly lies, do no hesitate, my girl. Don't be the fool that I was."

If ever there was a time for one's own bit of offered wisdom to come flying back to bite you in the ass, that was indeed mine.

I've sat here for some time now, not even sure where to start. There is so much in my head and so much in my heart I fear I could fill this book to full and still not even come close. Seven days its been since Iorweth came back into my life, and these seven days have been the best that I could have ever imagined them to be, even with all of the chaos and turmoil going on all around us. In truth I could have never even imagined where I am at this moment before he strolled into the council meeting. All I knew of were the bleak days that laid ahead and so very little else.

With outstretched arms and a softly uttered promise, he has completely tipped my world upside down.

This Iorweth of today is such a far cry from the boy and then the young man I remember from our youth. He was always kind with me, a fierce fighter but more often than not a quieter sort who set himself apart from most anyone else aside from a select few. But the man I see today - I see that shift from him being stern and almost hard to someone else entirely when his eye lights on me. It's so very humbling and I fear that he'll never understand what it does to me when he turns and gives me that little smile that he does.

Even here I will not compare Drystan to Iorweth or Iorweth to Drystan, because to do so would be unfair to both of these men who have been so dear to me - with the exception of this one small time. And only because it is the only way of measure I have.

He makes me feel like I am something to be treasured, something to be cherished. When he looks at me in the way that he does, I don't know whether to burst into flame or be ready to take on the world because with us two together, I feel as nothing can stand against us. All these crazy little feelings he brings about with just a touch or a growl oh when he does the things it does to me or a soft word - these are things I've only felt with Drystan or at least only him until Iorweth reopened my eyes. And now my heart beats for Iorweth. There are these little similarities, but then they're not, because despite the blood that ran and runs through their veins, these are two different men who both have claimed my heart for their own.

There were no little steps leading up to things, just feet hitting the ground (or perhaps being swept off the ground would be more fitting?) and running at full throttle. With Drystan he simply knew what he knew and then brought me around to the same realizations in time. Iorweth, it just was. That first night it scared me to think of the heavy regrets that may have come about for either of us in the morning, but they never came. And still they have not, despite us spending every night together since that first.

In so short a time Iorweth has become a fixture in my life, it's hard to remember a time waking up without him there beside me or falling asleep in his arms. I hadn't particularly expected to see him at the festival the night before, but he surprised me. How nice it was to sit there and watch people with his arm wrapped around me, just being there together. Surprise after surprise came that night. Celestinea gave us her blessing. I don't know if she knew how much I needed to hear it, that niggling fear of what she and Llewellan would think or say has been there, lingering in the back of my mind. It's not as though we've exactly hidden what has come about, but still it has worried me. Then came the next. When he wandered off, I thought nothing of it. Perhaps he saw a familiar face, perhaps something caught his eye. Instead apparently he made use of the music being played to have a song played for me. The gesture was so sweet, the song itself so perfect. It threw me off balance so much that I didn't know how to react right then though it probably for the best else we made a spectacle of us two.

We finished the night up in one of the old watch towers, looking out into the Plaguelands as he spoke of the years away. If I could have but one wish it would be to take away those years that pained him. I cannot fathom the loneliness, the things he suffered. All I can do is hope to give him new memories to ease the bad, a happier today and all of the tomorrows to wash away the yesterdays best forgotten. He had spoken of a love that existed from all those years ago, a love he still held to now. Again he spoke of it then, and it was in that moment I truly accepted it with the return of my own for him. I spoke to him words I've only given one another. I made my choice. And screamed it aloud for all below who may have heard, Light help me...

There still lies ahead the task of putting Drystan back to rest and I know there'll be weight on my heart until it is finished. But even then I trust it safe in Iorweth's care as it belongs to him now just as his is mine. Perhaps it would have been more appropriate to wait, to settle things and see the battles ahead are won before looking to personal matters and desires. It'd very nearly been on the tip of my tongue to voices these things. Then I remembered all too well what hesitation and waiting for the perfect moment cost me before. I embraced the feelings Iorweth has woken in me and all that came with them - there'll be no turning back.

Seven days its been and in those seven days I've finally been able to relegate the past to the past. My eyes have been opened to a secret I knew not of, my heart beats for another now. Love has found me in the least likely of places and I can only look forward to see what our future together will bring.
#13083326 Feb 22, 2017 at 11:00 AM · Edited 1 year ago
49 Posts
Wee Hours of the Morning; Wednesday 22 February, 38 L.C.

I've messed up so terribly, terribly badly. I lay here now, waiting for the day to come and whether or not today will be the day that punishments will be handed down or if we will be forced to wait. Sleep eludes me, even now. I focus instead of the snores of those around me, the voices and movements I hear up above.

The sin of Pride has brought me low this night, with the sin of Greed hot on it's heels. Never in my years have I brought such shame on myself, shame to my Arglwydd and to my friend. Shame to the man I profess to love in one breath and in the next do something so horrible in the name of another and the fairy tale ending I thought would have once been mine, what could have been mine.

We left out to handle some business back where we had found our Golem, easily dispatching the handful of Gwaeddon and men that had shown up to hassle the poor fellow. He led us then to a small cache of things - magical things that the men must have been sent to fetch. I will preface that I've heard that others were hearing whispers, voices of some sort, but for whatever reason I had not, nor had it even crossed my mind that I would. Perhaps somehow I thought whatever darkness was feeding them would be negated by the Light I carry within myself. How wrong I was and how ill prepared I was then when it finally did come. Not in a shout or anything so obvious, just the soft touch of a whisper that deafened me to whatever else was being said.

"The doll will lay your beloved to rest; TAKE IT." -- "Do not allow them to destroy the doll..."

It was so simple! And truly, what harm could one little doll do? I am a warrior who is well versed in the ways of the Light, it would be so simple a thing to shield myself if it became necessary to. Oh the Highlord was making a fuss, I only vaguely recall.

The worry had plagued me though, that destroying the orb was too simple a thing to fully break the hold of Martyn and the Gwaeddon over Drystan, Cree and the others. It was only made worse before we left when Iorweth made mention that there was at least one other orb that he was aware of. It was just a doll, but if there was even the remotest chance there was some way to grant them the release I wish so desperately for? It would have been worth it, and it was with that thought in mind that I ignored all else and took up the doll.

Even now, I cannot truly put into words what it showed me, how real it had been. How my heart aches with the want of it. The child, our child - Drystan's and mine. How we had both wanted him so, and so close he'd been to being ours before the Forsaken tore through our lands. I had felt him move within me, felt the life I carried beneath my heart, this little person our love had created. He had been a casualty of their war, myself nearly so in turn. It knew. So quickly the scenes passed before my eyes, in that horrible moment I forgot Iorweth. In that beautiful moment I remembered so vividly all that was once Drystan and I. The things we had done, the times we had shared. The moment when I told him he was to be a father, the bitter fight we had when it was too dangerous for me to continue on as I was. The horrible moment when I felt our son leave this world and my selfish hope that I wouldn't be long in following. Our reunion, Drystan and I, and then his death. Oh but then it changed, so smoothly from what was to what could have been - what would have been. My heart, alive and strong at my side once more. We two looking proudly on at our son as the man he would be. A hero surpassing even my love, so strong. He was everything we could have ever wanted him to be, everything we whispered and dreamed of in the quiet hours we shared between sunset and sunrise. The pride of our people and the one who would lead us all into retaking our beloved home.

There was only one little thing, one barrier that kept the dream from becoming reality. Bradian. He stood in the way of what my heart secretly longed for, he threatened everything we had all worked so hard to save. What was the cost of one man's life to save so many others? Many men have fallen beneath the weight of my ax, one more would make little difference except for what his death would have heralded.

So I struck. I attacked my Highlord, I attacked someone I believed to be a friend. Someone I cared for, fought beside, laughed with, even sought out in need of succor.

In that split second of insanity I besmirched my name beyond repair and broke any number of vows and promises in light of a dream.

What all ensued after was so chaotic. Lord Lighthand and Sir Owaeran were also felled by whatever the voice whispered to them, two loyal champions who turned on their companions so that I could do what needed to be done - also now locked away same as I. There were those who tried to take the doll, those who tried to stop me. It is my utmost horror as I lay here now to realize in that moment, I would have killed them all to see my task through. Thankfully the Derwydd woman, Brangwen, was able to take me down before I could do any true harm, though Lord Lighthand and Sir Owaeran were able to continue on before things were finally wrested under control.

Even then, the voice taunted me with my failure, continuing to whisper softly.

At least until another voice broke through, a different one. Where the other was quiet and sly - the new one screamed, demanding that I release the doll. It spoke of the doll's ability to possess, the hard and painful truth of the other whisper's lies.

We three, Lord Lighthand, Sir Owaeran who had been knocked out cold, myself were all bound and were being made ready to return back when it came through that Llewellan was under attack. I was unable to come to the defense of my dearest friend because of my actions, being only able to listen on in horror for what I could hear going on out of my sight. Iorweth had been felled, Llewellan under attack of some...thing. Even now I'm not quite sure of what it was or what transpired. Only that Llewellan's recent injuries had been reopened, and that others that weren't me were the ones caring for him. Iorweth, the sight of him unconscious was a vicious blow. The realization came then that I had forgotten him in those moments, that was the most devastating thing of all. I tried, tried so hard to do what I could to rouse him, heal what I could in the state that I was in. In that, came the only light in the darkness that I had fallen so carelessly into, in that he did awaken just as I and the others were led away to our cells.

And here I am still. Bradian came in to speak with me, raged as was his right. I did the only thing I could do in that moment, only offer an apology and the assurance that I would take full responsibility for my actions, though he only scoffed and agreed that I would indeed be bearing the burden for what I'd done. I let Lor'theron work his filthy blood magic to see what he could see, apparently there was something to found in my case if not the others. It doesn't matter in the end. I have brought a terrible shame upon myself for what I've done, and I can only hope that Llewellan, Bradian and Iorweth will maybe give me the opportunity to make amends, to some how try and prove myself once more to erase or at least ease this stain I've brought upon my name.

Another surprise came though, after things had quieted down and I was left counting the steps of the young newcomer as she paced back and forth between our cells. The cardinal had apparently sent Sir Silfaust up to seek out news and explanation of what had happened this night. It was a pleasure to see him again, though not so much under the current circumstances. We spoke for some time, he and I. It was to him that I poured out everything, even the little nuances that I knew would have been lost to Bradian's anger at the time. He in turn spoke of something I will not put to writing, in the case this falls to another's hands. I will not betray what he told to me, only that he put things into a perspective in that quiet way of his. He seems to believe there was enough of an influence that perhaps the full burden on my actions are not mine to bear, but as I told him quite clearly, voices and dolls are nothing but poor excuses for what I myself did. I was weak. I let myself be led to acting out so horrifically in the name of a lie. A pretty lie, but a lie nonetheless. I do not know if I'll ever be able to rid myself of the shame I wear now, no better than those who seek to strike out at my lord.

Still, I lay here now, only counting away the minutes and hours until some sort of resolution has been reached. I am resolved to my fate, whatever it may be. All I can do is shoulder the responsibility for what I've done and apologize again and again, but hopefully I will be allowed to prove with actions rather than words as I seek out forgiveness from those I've wronged and hurt tonight.
#13088432 Feb 24, 2017 at 12:03 PM · Edited 1 year ago
49 Posts
Friday; 24 February 38 L.C.

I can already hear the preparations being made above, despite being locked down here below. The air itself is ripe with anticipation of what's to come, the underlying bite of fear for if we fail.

I should be up there. Working with them to make sure things are just so and offering hope that we will prevail this night. Instead here I sit in this prison of mine own making. Too much time left to drown in my thoughts and too little else to do not to.

Finally coming face to face with Llewellan had been as terrible as I had imagined it to be. Never in our years together has he spoken to me as he did then, never before have I given him reason to. Oh I've had foolish moments here and there where he has spoken with me, yes. But the Llewellan I faced at that moment was one I've only seen in brief glimpses and always directed at someone else. Even though my heart was breaking for the position I put him in and the shame that burns me so terribly, I was proud of him. His dictates for us three were harsh, but they were still fair. A price must be paid for our sins, and pay we three will. I know not of this man who is behind the whispers, some child murderer who has committed some number of vile atrocities, but that there is some history here. I have to wonder perhaps if this information was made more clearly available more could have been done to prevent these things, but there is no point in the 'ifs' seeing as it's too late now.

We were ordered back to our cells until the time to move on the refuge. Whether out of caution or simply continuing our punishment, I care not. I've allowed the Dread Commander to mingle my blood with his, I've allowed the invasion of Greywhisper's dark magics. I've accepted it all as my due, though Sir Silfaust seemed a touch distressed when I spoke to him of it. All of it are but little pieces of the penance I must serve, if not by edict then by my own conscience. It has been vexing for the young woman who has some fierce need to see one fed, but these people do not understand. A bit of water, a bite of an apple. These things can sustain me more than they believe for they forget or simply do not know. I am Bleiddiaid. We can exist on so very little for many days, and under the circumstances a full belly is not something I'm deserving of. A vial of dailmarwolaeth is the only thing I may have requested, and would have had Iorweth not come with an offering in tow.

Oh how I had wanted to see his dear face, even as the thought of it terrified me so. Deep in the recesses of my heart I had foolishly hoped that either he had been spared of the full extent of my sins, or that he might brush my actions aside and simply offer forgiveness and the quiet reassurances that everything would be alright. Both things so terribly foolish and unrealistic.

He came last night. How he had managed the permission seeing as how hard the Highlord was set against visitations of any sort, I'll not know. There was not that smile that usually I am greeted with, the warmth in his look that makes my heart beat all the faster. In it's place was a hardness that I knew not how to approach. The look he gave me in that moment - in all of my days to come, I'll never forget it. And it was that precise moment that it fully hit me what I had done to the man. Oh I knew that I had been foolish, that I would have hurt him. But only with him there then did it really hit what I may have lost in light of a dream that was never to have been mine.

When I lost Drystan, when I saw him dead in Llewellan's lap. It was a coldness that spread through me, but it was something that I could not have stopped, it was not something that I had done. Oh I had screamed then about if I had been there and all of that, but the bitter reality is that it happened and I had no part to play in it.

This? It was very much my hand that wielded the blade to slice so deeply into Iorweth's heart as surely as the Deathstalker's had pierced Drystan's. This time it was I who willingly hurt the sweet soul hidden within the battle-scarred warrior. Oh Light, how it hurts to even write this. He has been there at my side since his return. He has given me his strong shoulder to lean on, he gave me his arms to find comfort and succor when I was near breaking. He gave me his heart. All of these great gifts he has given to me, I threw to the side without a thought and hurt him so grievously. The full weight of it dropped me to my knees and left me fumbling despite of all the things that had come to mind to try and explain things away.

The words he spoke to me were few, but each one he spoke was a knife through my heart. True steel would have hurt far less, but then one such as I deserved each and every one and so much more. It was hard to argue against the doubt he held for himself when my actions only proved them true, even if the intent had not been there. I knew even without saying as much some of what he felt, that I was trying in what ways I could to reassure him even before this had happened. Hearing the words spoken though, I had wanted to shake him and try and drill in that his inadequacies were only in his mind and no one elses, certainly not ones I held to.

But how could I when I had only given him reason to hold to them?

I loved Drystan with all that I was. I love Iorweth. It is still something new, but no less as heady, no less than what I had with his brother. I had thought myself resolved to the past and accepting of the now and the future to come. I can only say now that this must be the way of it. I must let my actions speak in lieu of words and vows. Drystan is dead, the love that was ours must be relegated to a tiny and quiet corner of my heart and the sweet memories we shared. There is no going back, there never has been.

"If you love me, Eirianwen, you will live and prove yourself again. You will rise above what you've done and hopefully, in your mind, lay Drystan to rest. I want that. But if your thoughts are on him forever, then I can never feel like I am good enough for you."

How his words still ring in my ears and make my heart bleed even now. I want to eradicate every doubt that he holds in every way I possibly can. I need to prove to him that it is in his hands that I willingly - no gladly give my heart, my body and my soul. I need to stand firm and true and not let myself fall once again. And I will.

Tonight I will prove to them, to all of them, that I am still Syr Eirianwen mab Rhain. I am the Undaunted, I am the Hard Bitch of the Vale. I have survived many battles and felled many foes. I am strong, I am competent. I will not dwell on the past or of the losses I've suffered aside from the strength they've granted to me. I will fight for my friend and lord, I will fight for our people and the bright future that is ours when we stand tall and victorious this night. There will be no mercy for those who have sided with the dark promises of Iwan. I will begin my path towards redemption with a sure foot and an unflagging arm in the hope that I can stand before Llewellan and Bradian with my head held high once more. That I can stand before Iorweth with no doubts between us and only love. That I am his completely because that is the choice that I've made with a true heart and that there'll be no other to come between us. I will see that his doubts and fears are put to rest, brushing them aside with the love that is for him and him alone.
#13096999 Feb 28, 2017 at 11:10 AM · Edited 1 year ago
49 Posts
Monday; 27, February 38 L.C.

It is a new day, it is a fresh start. Unknowns have now become know to all, and all I can do is move forward. I will not forget, I will never forget what has transpired, but I also will not let it weigh me down to ruin. Though I find myself surrounded by high expectations, I will rise to meet each and every one of them put to me.

Last night was the first time I'd truly managed to sleep since that debacle at Golem's Rest. All of the worrying, all of the stress and then finally the release of it all, the sun was high in the sky before I finally dragged myself from the bed that Iorweth had long since vacated for his own tasks of the day. It is ever so humbling to have found such a great love not once, but twice in a single lifetime. If only people realized the love and caring hidden well behind that hard visage he wears so well. That I bruised him is of no doubt, but there too is hidden a generous heart, too generous I wonder, but a generous heart nonetheless that offered forgiveness where he need not have. Oh the secrets the ramparts took to their stone last night, the things we spoke to one another and the after - there truly aren't words to express it. Never again will I falter or fail him. He is mine as I am his, in every possible way that one can belong to another. Oh I'm sure there'll be some amusements and comments coming in time, seeing our own little bit of foolishness but I'll not change a thing. Let the world see that I'm proud to be his and that he is mine in turn. Any little thing I can do to prove to him that he is worthy, that he is completely and utterly stuck with me for as long as he'll have me. Then too, I think I finally understand his way of thinking. There is some great satisfaction to be found in seeing him there with my mark on him for all to see with whom he belongs.

Truly, I believe I could fill pages with my rambling on him. But so much else has happened since we last visited.

The battle is won, my lord and dearest friend is victorious. Iwan has fallen and though he leaves behind the trouble of a wife and child, this war and it's many battles have finally seen their end. Corrupted and swollen with those forbidden magics we found him, but even then he could not stand against the combined might of us and our allies. Even our Golem friend found it in him to come to our aid, as did other friends and allies we have picked up along the way. The Light and the gods were all on our side that day with very little loss of life, but to our great dismay and heavy hearts, the most notable was our odd little friend, Dirt Farmer. Without hesitation he ran headlong past our forces when there proved to be some issue with his explosives laid to grant us entry. It is my sincerest hope that he has found peace, that he is well rewarded in the life to come for his selfless act of valor.

Then came my lord's call to court.

It was there our punishments were made known, Lord Lighthand's removal from his granted post; Sir Owaeran's stripping of his knighthood; me of my position as War Prior. Of course we had known what was to come, but the shame of it will live long past the few moments it took for Llewellan to announce these things to the world. Long after I am gone from this world it will still be remembered that one who was trusted and raised to the prestigious seat of War Prior was stripped of her office, that the third of that title was forcibly removed at her Arglwydd's command just as the stories continue of how the Order itself was founded and of those who came before me. There is some relief though, in knowing that Syr Angèlique was rewarded for all of the hard work she has so tirelessly poured into it and will rise and shine far more than I ever would have. It eases the pain in my heart knowing that she will stand firm and true and I look forward to seeing her flourish in the position as the Order continues to flourish under her capable hand.

There was also a great relief that came when Bradian came and spoke to me before Llewellan arrived. Somehow he too found it in him to offer the hand of forgiveness, informing me that I would continue to serve him as his Knight Champion. It was most unexpected, and I'll not deny it was so very difficult to swallow back the tears that rose as he spoke to me so kindly when he certainly need not have. Even now it leaves me at a loss. These people who I have hurt the most offering kindness, support and understanding. Even Celest. I caused such shame and hurt to not one but both of her cousins, and still she stood there with the reassurance that I am as I ever was in her eyes, even pushing me to go speak with Iorweth before the court came into order. It is so very humbling, and as I've said before, I will do whatever it is within my power to see that I rise up to their high expectations of me in these days to come. I will make them proud of me once more if it is the very last thing that I do.

Iwan was sentenced to death, Mwynen, Sirona curse her name, was granted life. If things were different I would have gladly demanded some reasoning behind Llewellan's foolish thinking in that regard, but things are not as they were and I was and am forced to bite my tongue. For now. Then came the rewards, and they were ample. Braidian was given rise to the Marshal of the Vale, even being rewarded with Iwan's mace. Syr Angèlique was risen to serve in my stead. Master Greywhisper was even recognized for his service and given a favor and a home of his choice within our lands in the future. Celest, she was given rise to the Tiern of Brycheiniog. It was amusing to see that Llewellan could still surprise even his dear cousins, given to her reaction when he made his pronouncement.

Oh, but then too how they can turn it just as well onto him. Iorweth was called next. It was with great pride that I stood silently to the rear of the room, hearing his elevation to Cadylwydd of the Bleiddiaid. Within the next breath my love announced it's disbandment. That from it's stained ashes would rise a new order, the Rhuddwyr. It floored me as much as it appeared to Llewellan, this being the first I'd heard of such a thing. But how brilliant, and how amazing it to be that this would be something that would certainly add Iorweth's name to the annals of our history. He'll never know how proud I was of him in that moment, not that I think he'd believe me even if I tried to tell him.

One final shock came after the court was adjourned and Sir Silfaust came up to me as I waited for some of the crowd to disperse around Llewellan. I'd had an idea take form, and I wished to gain his approval before acting on it, but that Sir Silfaust appeared at my side and admitted that there he would remain - at Llewellan's command. Oh for the life of me it was so difficult not to storm up to my old friend and demand his explanation for it. Aside from Colwyn's watchful eye, never have I had to endure a guard, a shadow, an advisor - whatever it is that one would want to assign the poor man. I could not be angry with Silfaust himself, he who has proven himself to be a dear and wise friend in so short a time, but the gesture itself stung. It will take some adjustment, but it is just one thing in a line of many as I work to right my wrong.

Though I slept late, the day today has been a productive one at least. I gathered up the armor that I had once wore with pride and worked for many hours, making the adjustments and cleaning it up to be ready for it's new bearer. I sincerely hope that my efforts were correct in the differences between Ange and I and that only minor fixes will necessary if any at all. It was a bittersweet thing, and gave time for some reflection as I worked in the heat of the forge. With the armor I sent my blessing, for whatever it was worth. To her I pledged my service should she ever need it, my assistance though she has done so well without.

So here I am. No longer am I War Prior, no longer am I Gapwein. I am but a simple knight and cleric in service to my Arglwydd, ever his loyal servant no matter what may come. I am a Knight Champion under the Highlord, ready to prove my worth once more. I am the beloved of Iorweth ap Aneiran, for he is the one I've chosen and will chose until the day that I draw my last breath. For all that was stripped of me in these past months, I will find joy in what I yet have, the things that I have gained. I will continue to make steps to regain the place that was once mine. But for now, I am content.
#13155667 Mar 27, 2017 at 10:14 AM · Edited 1 year ago
49 Posts
Monday; 27, March 38 L.C.

It's been a while, hasn't it? I actually had to flip back to see when it was last that I written last, only to find it was a month ago - again the day after Llewellan's grand court.

Only a month has passed, but it seems like so very much longer. Still I am struggling a bit to find myself in this new reality I've set upon myself. Oh but I had written some lovely things the last go. In reality, it's still a bit of a shock. What have I managed to do since? Nothing much at all. By Llewellan's request did I keep the Lady Addington guarded for a brief bit. By Llewellan's request did poor Silfaust end up being assigned to my side, to ensure I did not do anything foolish and to I suppose gain some sense of my thoughts on things. Even now I'm not quite sure what exactly his orders had been, but that we made it through without any major tifts along the way -- though it had been difficult at one juncture. By Llewellan's request I joined an expedition alongside Syr Angelique to assist in Lady Leah Beaumont's task to recruit some zealous band of Templars to her side. In truth it took longer to travel there than it did to complete her task, though we did run into some interference by a small band of Deathstalkers. Easily dispatched, though it laid me up for a good week after. Despicable creatures and their blight bombs. The hospitaliers took things in hand after the fray, but there were other injuries as well that Iorweth wouldn't let slide past him. A dose from one of our little Bleiddiaid bag of tricks and a few days respite and the worst had been seen to with no problem at all. Of course upon waking there was Silfaust once more, looming nearby with an apple in hand. I worry for the poor man if he has nothing better to do then to see to everyone else but himself.

Perhaps the most notable since my last entry was the memorial service. It was a lovely thing, despite the heartbreak and the weight it carried for so many. A time among friends and companions to share in their grief and the healing that would hopefully come from it, to remember those we had lost and the many sacrifices that had been made for the future we look to. Many had offerings and thoughts to share. For me, it was yet another door closing. From the libram that is always held close I had taken the candduwies given to me that morning long ago. In a bouquet it had been tucked, offered up with that impish grin he so often wore on a morning we two met for a long awaited day spent with just the two of us and no other distractions. After that beautiful day I had taken my gift, pressing it between the pages of my tome where I knew it would always be safe and close at hand. And there it has remained all these years since - until now. I offered it there in front of my friends and allies, laying it on the pyre to be consumed in the flames. A final goodbye to the man that I once loved with the sincerest hope that he has found peace in the great beyond that waits for us all. Iorweth came behind me then, surprising me when he laid the Scarlet colors to rest as well. Both of us releasing the past in the best way we knew to.

Another surprise came shortly thereafter when he pulled me aside when the crowd began to disperse. I had still been weary from the long week's rest, and feeling a bit raw yet with what I had done. But he came forth with a small box, not saying much as is often his way. Seventeen years ago he had done as his brother had. Seventeen years he had carried his gift with him, never knowing that this is where we two would end up. But seventeen years later he gave me a candduwies that somehow has never withered or wilted, waiting for that day at that time. It still sits in it's box now, yet unchanged but for the fact it rests on the table by my bedside. Not locked away, but with the small cask sitting open for me to see and remember -- never ever to forget again. It is so humbling to know this love my Iorweth has carried for so long and that it was and is for me. It has only been a short time that we two have chosen to be by the other's side and in the other's heart. But then he does as he did that night, and it just leaves me speechless and worrying that I'm not deserving of such a thing.

While the past month has been a rather quiet one from my side of things, it has been anything but for others. Syr Owaeran and his Lady Anwen completed the task that Llewellan set them to with little fuss that I am aware of, same as with Sir Silfaust and his task. Still the Umbardacils managed to surprise myself and the rest with their quick and unexpected marriage -- and after this evening's revelations came the knowledge that they two are expecting as well. It pleases me greatly to know that those I hold dear find happiness, and those two are greatly deserving of it. It seems that even after the annual festival of love, it's aftereffects still linger with all sorts of rumors playing about as to who has settled in with who. I do not know which are in truth or simply rumor, but I do wish that those who have found their happiness are able to keep it and let it grow.

Still, things are ever moving, ever changing. Tonight is only further proof of that. Before the court was called to order, Bradian pulled me aside. I did not pry, I will not now or ever - but he warned me with only minutes to spare that he was stepping down from his titles and duties. Perhaps it is a touch ironic for she who was so recently stripped of her mantle to be offered it's like once more, but for all intents and purposes I accepted his offer until there comes someone who would better suit it's role. That is if Llewellan and the cardinal both accept Brady's nomination of me to take up the helm of the recently changed Holy Order. We shall see what is what in the coming days.

It was an announcement that rocked the court, there is no denying that. But it was still a night of celebration for some. New oaths were sworn, Syr Owaeran was once more granted his knighthood. He, his lady wife and Marisol all swore their fealty to Llewellan. Lady Beaumont's part in things was confirmed, though there was a great to do after. As for me? It had surprised me to be called forward, knowing as I did that I had done nothing to merit any reward in the time since the last court. Instead there in front of all I was tasked not to anything that would help to prove myself - oh no. I was put to task of aiding Owaeran and his lady in their trials to join the Rhuddwyr. I was put to task to aid Lady Addington in her quest to bring the Breifne back to the fold.

"While we have no reward to give you, you have been tasked with many things that are under your position and skill. With this in mind, we have several tasks for you."

It is...hard. I will do as my dear friend asks of me as I always have. I am just having some difficulty with these assignments. I have led men into battle, I have fought toe to toe with talented and fierce opponents. I have left carnage in my wake, all in the name of my lord and my people, and yet here I am tasked to play protective details to those who warm my friend's bed. The Templars had to be fetched to serve Lady Beaumont. Now the Breifne must be fetched to prove Lady Addington's worth. Throw me into some untenable situation, send me out into the world to bring troublemakers to heel. I would rather dance with death then to sit pretty atop a horse, playing nursemaid to these women. These things though, it is so very difficult not to think of these things as an insult. Perhaps I am only deserving of such things. Is that the lesson to be learned here? He had said he trusts in me as he ever has, but then why only ask these things of me that anyone could do? I do not know. It does not change the fact that I will see these things done - I just...I do not know.


It is a terrible thing when I forgot to even make mention of news that left all the rest in the dust. It worries me that my preoccupation with the rest led me to forget.

Finally, after all of these years.

We're going home.
#13197621 Apr 18, 2017 at 10:41 AM
49 Posts
Monday; 17, April 38 L.C.

It was all for nothing.

That's all I can think of as I sit here. Several days have passed apparently since we traveled up to deal with a band of Tauren that were protecting the Mosshide. Though I remember the trek up, our return is a different story. From what I have been told Marisol is still unresponsive, clinging tenaciously to life. Syr Dafydd, thanks be to the Light was up after only a day. Myself, I only woke just this morning not too long after the sun rose -- quite surprisingly for the first time without Silfaust looming nearby--, or so I've been told as I'm still in the same place I was upon my illustrious return to the waking world. I truly don't remember much past when that damned bull saw it to push past the rest and set his sights on me, only that my focus was on trying so desperately to keep the others going and reaching out to Marisol. And then just aching so fiercely before it all going dark. It would seem I owe Hywen another life debt and then some for extracting us all, he and Iorweth's men who were still stationed up there. To the cardinal and Heddwyn as well, for being there to tend to us all when we returned.

But that aside, it still boils down to not a single thing was gained in this entire expedition. Not even the group that went out after us had any luck, save to discover they had all lit out from their stronghold. Not a single gnoll, Tauren or Forsaken remained behind, nothing at all.

And what was lost? Too much. Integrity, trust. Poisoning the grain ended up being such a fruitless venture for all the headache it caused after the fact. It was done and then we were never able to reap what little benefit would have come from it with the way the Horde rose up to guard their new little pets, though I'll not deny the deaths of the little ones who did no wrong (as yet) do weigh on me. We made the discovery of Iorweth's father being raised to join and serve the Dread Commander Roberts, the fact that Aneiran was the one who killed Llewellan's father, though these were things Iorweth apparently already knew. It...bothers me that he did not see fit to tell me the latter, as well as other things that rose to this. Perhaps it shouldn't, but it does. There are many years apart, I'm well aware of this. Years passed and a great deal of things have happened in those years with little time together now to have covered them all. But truthfully I don't know that he would have told me unless I had reason to come to him as I did the other night. I want to respect his need for secrets but some things, I feel it necessary to know. Even though now I hold his secrets for my own, as Llewellan does not know this about his father's killer. Ior has said he will bring it up in time, that he will tell Llewellan all that needs to be told as it's past time for him to unburden himself. It's still a hard thing for me to hold my tongue, torn between my duty to my friend and the promise I gave my love, but it is not my story to tell, and I think it best that it is dealt with directly from cousin to cousin.

In an odd shift, I did gain an unexpected ally through all of this. An interesting woman who I had only heard of due to some issues that arose a few months ago, Jack, approached me and offered herself to my service. I'll admit it was a refreshing change of pace when everyone else wishes to talk and discuss and talk some more, that she is more tuned to my wavelength of 'get out there and get shit done'. Though I cannot say which is more unnerving, being addressed as either 'sugar lips' or 'master', both can be easily overlooked by the value of having someone with her skill set at my side. One thing that does worry me is what she spoke on what this Anton fellow had worked with her and well remembering my last brush with this shadow magic -- we will see how this pans out.

Either way I don't know how I will greet Bradian when next we meet. I respected him for his having to handle what he did, but I fear I was and still am greatly unprepared to take this station and all the headache that comes with it. The way I do things and expect them to be done is a far cry from the ship he helmed. There'll be some growing pains for all as we settle into this.

There is plenty of time for me to think on these things, and others yet as I'm still plagued by this troubling dream I had, seeing as I am being relegated to this bed for at least another day - under guard no less, as apparently I had been in the time I was out. Iorweth was as insistent as I was, though we both had two different ideas. Perhaps I'm a lovely palette of bruises that have yet to heal, and I may still ache far more than I'm going to tell him -- there is too much to be done rather than being stuck in bed for any longer than I already have. But after some arguing here I yet remain. One day I will give him, and that is it. At least I was able to get him to bring me this so that I may occupy myself somehow, even for a little bit. Though it does little to erase the images that keep playing through my mind, reliving what happened that horrible nightmare. It was so very real...

Hopefully this day will past swiftly enough so that things can get back to normal once more.
#13227894 May 04, 2017 at 01:59 PM · Edited 12 months ago
49 Posts
Thursday; 4, May 38 L.C.

It's so odd when it seems as though so much has happened when really it hasn't.

After much waiting, our friend from the Kirin Tor was able to zero in on Bradian. Thanks be to the Light and all that watch over us that he and his compatriots yet lived and were relatively unscathed. And we were able to help finish up what they started so that we were able to bring him home with us. Though here I floundered - again. So happy I was to know he was safe and that some horrible fate had not befallen him, I let emotion rule me rather than sense. Silfaust was so very quick to point it out, and luckily I had an ace up the sleeve in my Jack that it worked itself out in the meantime. Once he's had ample time to rest and recover, he and I will have to set ourselves some time together. I need to see...I need to just catch up and have a chat with someone who might understand.

Though then there is Jack. Another thing I perhaps moved quickly on rather than giving her so much rein so quickly. I set her to a simple enough task - follow and listen. Gather intel and report it back to me. I should have known, or at least I shouldn't have trusted so easily without truly knowing the woman. Just as I probably should have known Iorweth had set his own hounds to be watching mine, but it's hard to be riled by it when I might not have known what had happened had the fellow not reported to me. I had expected her to have only listened, maybe, just maybe pull one aside to pull about what was needed. Instead she slaughtered each and every one. The information was not that precious, truly it was only something that made our work a touch easier. We could have feasibly done without but I had promised her work and work I was intent on keeping her plied with. How could she have done what she did, I do not know. Then too I don't know why it struck me as hard as it had. Temper I have and temper I like to believe I can control for the most part, but sweet blessed Sirona there was no control to be had. I don't even remember moving, only the crash of my chair, the sting of my hand against her face and then she down at my feet. Oh it was a struggle to push it aside, even with her own biting response that to be fair -- was not wrong. She had gone out at my order, an order I left too open that gave her the room to act as she did. But be that at as it may, she was still in the wrong, and by the Light she'll not profit from it. I ordered to return what she had stripped the man of, down to the last copper piece. I'll have to be on my guard, I fear it's not something she's feeling too kindly on at the moment. Ior and I spoke on it, and I believe he is right, as was my initial gut in taking the woman on. I just need to have a firmer hand on her leash and not leave anything to chance like that in the future.

As for the rage, I do not even know. Perhaps I can just lay that to the stress that never seems to relent. In addition to Jack though, I have also gained an important advisor, one I can trust at least. Lord Lightsworn apparently has found himself with time on his hands and the need for a change of pace. It really was quite terrible, but I nearly laughed when he had offered the favor Llewellan had promised him if I would allow him a place among us all - when all he had to do was ask. Not only does it grant me a needed ally, but he has made it quite clear I've the benefit of his many years at my disposal, something I fear I desperately need. I have commanded my wing and others over the years, but I did that from a place where I took my orders first and then went from there. This...this is something different entirely. I have no one to make those choices for me. It is my word that rules, and it worries me something fierce to have that word and judgement questioned at every turn. To this friend I admitted my fears that I've only shared with Iorweth. The fear, the doubt. This being so very unsettled and unsure from my fall. It is so very foolish to be clinging to, I know that in my head. But in my heart it terrifies me to think that I could falter so terribly to lose all that I had and the very real chance that I could do it again. I had thought myself so strong and sure, and in the next breath I had lost it all, or at least very nearly lost it all. It's not something I know how to come back from as quickly as others have brushed it aside. Every thing I do, every thought I have. I question every little thing I do now and it's so very crippling. Iorweth is my rock in the storm, I know there is nothing I cannot ask of him. But Ailos gives me someone else who will challenge me too, and I think it's something I need. Even though me and my pride...and my nose - we could have done quite happily without that little showing he made upon his visit to the refuge.

These days ahead should be interesting ones indeed. Llewellan still lies just out of reach. My man has stepped up in his place and it is with great pride that I look forward to seeing him flourish as I know he will, to do the very thing that he had promised him that evening some time ago. The drake will become the dragon. Hopefully it will only serve to better steady himself and believe in himself. We two, so sure of the other but so unsure of ourselves behind closed doors. He has come so far since his return, and I just want to see him finally realize the strength he has, the strength he has always had even in the shadow of his brother. Drystan's name and legacy will live on even after we have all departed from this world, but so too will Iorweth's I believe. I wish no ill will against Llewellan, but I think that perhaps this new trial is one my love needed the most. I will only continue to pray for my dearest friend's recovery, as well as for Iorweth in what is to come even though I will be there at his side every step of the way.
#13293681 Jun 11, 2017 at 07:52 AM · Edited 11 months ago
49 Posts
Sunday; 11th, June 38 L.C.

I am finding that I really am quite terrible at keeping at this with some regularity. In my defense though, there have been a great many things to see to before time for frivolous things such as this. Indeed, even now I should well be asleep, here with it many hours yet until the dawn but sleep is a luxury I cannot afford right now. A great many things weigh on my mind, so many of them I dare not give voice to, not even to those who I trust above all else. My love sleeps on just an arms length away while I sit here, writing by a slender flame of candlelight to try and ease my mind.

My lord and my friend has finally awoken, and while I am so very relieved for it, too now I almost wish he hadn't. It's terrible of me to feel this way. I shouldn't feel this way. I should be shouting my praises and thanks to the heavens but instead my heart is so weighted with anger and the guilt I carry for feeling as I do. He called to any who would respond, bringing myself, Marisol, Syr Owaeran and the Sun Knight Ignacia. He gave his orders and made his wishes known. To me, he asked a scroll to be delivered. A simple enough task, it only took him a moment to write out a cryptic message while I watched on before asking me to seek out Syr Meirion and place it in his hands. Again, an easy enough task as the man in question was not so far away. We parried words a bit, but in the end he only dangled part of what was to known in front of me -- that Llewellan gave his consent and blessing for Meirion to begin an inquiry against one of our own. He wouldn't say who at first, just that he would share his information in time. Thankfully that time wasn't long in coming when he pulled me aside just that evening.

Iorweth. My Iorweth. Of everyone, they're looking to him and daring to try and paint him with the stain of treason and deceit. I care not for his reasoning or his excuses on why he's chosen to focus on my man. It angers me to see all that Iorweth has done be questioned by not only Meirion, but his cousin as well when all that he's done had been to serve Llewellan. I wish that I had said more. To have raised all kinds of hell when Meirion told me his concerns, but what purpose would it have served? I asked what made his actions any different than mine? I have the Remnant that can be called upon should I need to. I've utilized Lily, even though that backfired in a sense. So what if Ior uses foreign mercenaries to see where others cannot, who does what must be done to ease our path ahead? He has no designs for the crown that Llewellan wishes to don. I do not understand why this is happening and it's slowly burning me from the inside out.

Compound that with the tongue lashing that Ailos gave to me the evening before and I am very nearly at my wit's end. It honors me that a man of his years and his wisdom takes the time to speak with me in an attempt to me better myself for the role I find myself in, and also just to simply better myself for the sake of me, Eirianwen, being a better person at the end of the day. It is just so very difficult to step free of how I have always known myself to be, and that frustrates him for some reason. Even past my disdain and dislike for great showy things, it's hard to break past a mindset that has shaped me into the woman I am today. I am trying. But even when I think I've finally gotten my feet firmly beneath me it seems that I'm being challenged to push even further. The Holy Order is building into something beautiful, so there is something wonderful to be found in that. Ailos, Marisol, Owaeran, Ignacia, so many others have come together to help piece together what will be the groundwork for many generations to come, or at least that is my secret hope. I want this to be something lasting, even when we've all finally faded from this world. We've had an influx of numbers here of late, and I'm proud to be involved in such a thing. But even where there is pride and joy, there is more heartbreak in that Angelique has pulled free the Sable Dragon. It is her right, and I understand her reasoning with no ill will held for the action, but still, it hurts.

I am proud of the heights I have attained, even with my great fall from grace. But with Sirona as my witness, I miss the days of only having my wing under my command. We were able to ride free without all of the constraints I find myself burdened with now. I could serve my lord and my friend without any doubt or question in my heart. Now? Things are not so simple and they seem to grow less and less more so with each breath I draw.

He told me

He has a

How could they

With a strangled sound Eirian finally hurled her quill across the room and fisted her hands in her hair. Teeth clamped tightly onto her lip until the coppery taste of blood hit her tongue in an attempt to silence the urge to scream, cry, rage -- she didn't even know where to start. She stared down at her elegant script for a long moment until all of the words ran together before grasping a handful of pages and tearing them from her journal. The chair she'd been sitting in toppled over when she stood quickly, padding over to where the fire burned low to take the chill from stone walls. The pages were flung to the flames, catching quickly while she watched on silently. Time passed immeasurably before she finally turned around and gently righted her chair. She fell onto it and just let her head fall to her hands once more. Unsure of what to do, she glanced over to where Iorweth slept peacefully, his soft snores easing her heart, if only the slightest bit. In that moment, something Silfaust had spoken to her came to mind and her heart clenched tightly.

"They say that love is baring yourself to another; to give your heart to them, and trust them not to break it. Giving them the power to destroy you, and trusting them not to."

She watched the slow rise and fall of her lover's chest for some time before rising once more. Gently she sat herself down on the edge of their bed. Reaching over to the nightstand she picked up the second vial of dreamlessness potion that was to have been hers, carefully pulling the cork free. With tender hands she shifted Ior's head onto her lap. Carefully she trickled the second dose between his lips so as to not choke him in the throes of sleep. The emptied vial was put back where she had picked it up from and she bent over to gently press her lips to his forehead.

"I'm sorry, fy nghariad," she whispered, her heart so very heavy with what she was doing. "It is only temporary, just to keep you safe."

Slowly she slid him back onto the pillows before rising and tugging off the robe she wore, instead reaching for more practical clothes and armor for the day that would be beginning sooner rather than later. She knelt down beside one of the large chests that sat against the wall she dug down deep before pulling free a smaller chest, one emblazoned with the sigil of the Bleiddiaid y Dyffryn. Lifting the lid she reached in and extricated half a dozen vials of another sort. These she tucked in a small pouch at her waist before reaching in for one more with a mental note to send to her mother that she'd be needing more before long. Uncorking this vial, Eirian tossed back the Dailmarwolaeth potion with the knowledge that while sleep was the safest option for Iorweth, it served her no purpose. The smaller chest was carefully stored back away before she rose once more. A gentle kiss was dropped on Iorweth's brow, her knuckles caressed his cheek before she turned and tugged her gauntlets on. She bent and retrieved the quill that had been thrown and made to return it to it's rightful place. She paused at where her journal sat open yet, the torn edges of it's pages taunting her. Rather than sitting the quill aside, she dipped the tip in the small inkwell and scribbled one short line. That last moment of weakness given into, she slammed her journal shut and stored it away in a safe place. With one final glance to the sleeping Iorweth, Eirian turned on her heel and left to her duties. Appearances must be kept up so as to not draw any attention of Meirion or any of those he might have set on them. Even as her world shattered around her, there were other things that must be seen to and the world kept spinning.

"I don't know what to do."
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