A Cursed Land Under a Cursed Moon

23rd of Solae, 1485
 
I find myself not having written in the past few days, something that hasn’t happened since we disembarked from the Jackdaw nearly a month ago… I have much to think about, much to sort out in my mind before I can move forward. I thought that I had worked out much of what has plagued my mind for the past couple decades, but apparently, I have not… being in this place brings it all crashing to the forefront again.
 
Two nights ago, the first that I didn’t record my thoughts and my companions’ deeds, I stood watch with Grimaldus. It was comfortable in my conjured hut, something that the men seemed grateful for. I’m glad I could provide at least a modicum of comfort in this cursed place.
 
While we were on watch, one of the dead began bumping into the walls of the hut. I didn’t even notice its presence, to be honest, until I saw it trying to push its way in. I couldn’t tear my eyes off it, even though I desperately wanted to… the undead remains of a dwarf, animated through this foul curse. It bore the tattered remains of what looks like the livery of Grimstone Hall… over a thousand miles away, across the mountains. He must have traveled far before dying here, so very far from home. He should be in a dwarven tomb with his ancestors, like we buried Garrick… not out here, wandering these cursed woods, an undead abomination grasping for any life he can sense.
 
I think Grimaldus said something, but I didn’t hear him. My entire focus was wrapped up in the undead dwarf. Not taking my eyes off of the decayed remains of the dwarf, I said “he’s so far from home.”
“Do you want me to kill it?” Grimaldus asked. Then I realized that he must have been asking me this same question for the past few minutes.
 
I nodded. Grimaldus stepped out into the snow and, although I couldn’t hear it physically, my mind knew the sound of the crunching bone and decayed flesh as he ended it with a single blow of his mace. I looked up as he came back in, dipping his bloody mace in the snow to clean it first. I think I thanked him, but I cannot be sure. We spent the rest of our watch in relative silence, but Grimaldus’ presence provided a bit of solace.
 
In the morning, I asked Gerard why some of the mages that were in the camp hadn’t merely teleported to the site and repaired the bridge if it is that important. He said that Hatholdir suspects that some of the mages (or all of them) might have been strategically planted by the merchants of Delineus, in order to ensure the failure of the effort. Hasim didn’t understand why, but as soon as Gerard mentioned it, I could see it… if the undead manage to siege Delineus, then Loec will be forced to act. And if Loec is forced to involve itself, then Delineus’ trade will improve drastically. It makes sense, in a twisted logic that seems to be so common among those who are obsessed with money.
 
The men bickered with each other for most of the journey. I finally snapped at them, in Yongrel, telling them to stop. I do not have the patience since coming to this place to listen to that shit. We are about to go face an unknown number of undead… any division among us and the consequences will be dire…
 
We passed a few more Elvish ruins before arriving at the bridge that we’re supposed to take and hold to repair. Hasim scouted ahead, sneaking into the watchtower that appeared to be mostly intact. Based on what we discovered, it appears that the soldiers holding the tower were the ones who blew up the bridge – likely to stop the tide of undead from sweeping across the rest of the land…
 
After the tower, and its accompanying cannons were secured, I cast a sending spell to Hatholdir. I told him that the guards destroyed the bridge themselves, and asked if he actually wanted us to repair the bridge and risk invasion. I told him that I can repair it in ten minutes.
 
A few moments later, Hatholdir replied. “Rebuild at the last second. Watch for my arrival. This is no longer our camp. See you soon.”
 
He still hasn’t arrived, so I’m not entirely sure what he meant by this not being our camp… but I think that we will soon find out…
 
Rowan showed me some mushrooms growing along the riverbank while I was accustoming myself with the lay of the land. She claims that they are a good omen… I hope she is right. And hopefully the good omen of a few little mushrooms is going to be enough to counteract the terrible omen that is brewing in the sky… an eclipse…
 
I took the darkest watch of the night with Hasim. I asked him about his son, and if he has anything that he wants to ensure that the boy knows or receives in the event of his death… he claims that Uriel dropped everything off with the babe. He was so nonchalant about it… I don’t think I will ever understand how blasé humans so often are with their young. For my people, every child is a gift. A gift to be treasured and nurtured by our entire people. We have so few children, and there are often centuries between the birth of siblings, that perhaps we just understand the value of their lives and wellbeing more? I don’t know… Marcus in Yaharghul seemed to care deeply for his young daughter, Aeliianna, but perhaps he is an exception. Or perhaps, it is because Hasim isn’t a human after all… maybe the Yuan-Ti simply view their offspring differently… or Hasim is so consumed by his quest for vengeance that is isn’t thinking of the little son’s life that he may be leaving behind, missing out on…
 
I know that I cannot imagine my father ever having abandoned me as a child… and I have seen the pain in Ravlor’s eyes when he told me of his lost child he never even got to see before its death… I hope that Hasim is going to be spared that fate… I also hope, for his child’s sake, that he finds him again… because I look at myself and then I look at my friends. All of them have lost their parents… Secilia and Inira when they were very young, and Dekar just this past year… it is a tragedy for any child to grow up in a world where they don’t have a safe place to go home to, a mother and father to welcome them home and give them advice and comfort when the whole world seems to be against them…
 
I sat there, watching the snow falling outside, completely absorbed in my thoughts and memories.
 
We were completely snowed in. I still don’t know what possessed us to think it would be a good idea to go off into the woods in the deepest part of winter, but we did. Myself and five other apprentices from Egig Ero Fa. And then, we had gotten trapped by the snows in that horrible, cramped cabin for six days. For six days, I regretted having ever let Morwen talk me into coming along for this outing. They never stopped talking… never stopped complaining… especially once we ran out of food.
 
Finally, on the last day, a ranger arrived carrying three chickens. No food has ever tasted so good as those chickens, even though they were cooked with little seasoning, over a small, conjured fire… far from the meals I had been accustomed to eating.
The ranger introduced himself as Ravlor, and we talked for a time, before he went on his way. It was only later that I realized that he had never mentioned why he was there, or what his mission was.
 
A few years later, I ran into him again outside Egig Ero Fa. We had a good conversation, and parted ways.
 
Then, shortly before the war, I ran into him again. We spoke some more, and he introduced me to his hawk, Aldon. We had a long conversation, and he showed me how to navigate the forests so I wouldn’t find myself in the same situation I was in when we first met. He was cheerful enough, but I could tell that something was bothering him. He didn’t seem happy, as though he didn’t want the upcoming fight, and he wasn’t happy doing what he was doing. But I was too caught up in our conversations, and I didn’t want to pry. Not to mention, I was absorbed in the excitement of learning how to navigate the Alcarin woods like the rangers do.

Such were my thoughts as I sat with Hasim on watch. I pulled my gaze away from the falling snow to see Hasim staring at me. “Do you need something?” he asked. I asked him to keep an eye on everything, if he could just give me a brief period of time. He was hesitant, but when I told him to just shake me if he or Meriwald spotted something suspicious, he relaxed – well, relaxed as much as he ever does while he is conscious.
 
I cast Dream. Normally when I use the spell, I let the environment be dictated by the subject... I enter into their dream... but this time... this time I wanted to control the locale. I didn’t want to find myself thrust in the middle of a battle again, or worse, find myself in one of Ravlor’s nightmares. So, I conjured the place I most wanted to be in the moment, where I felt safest... the Alcarin woods.
 
Ravlor was sitting on a rock, playing a lute. He put it down, and sat crosslegged, folding his arms across his chest. “Really?” he says looking around. “You must be feeling really shitty right now...”
“You have no idea.”
“Homesick?”
 
I shrugged and explained to him everything that had happened with Damian. I told Ravlor how Damian started attacking me as soon as I arrived in his dream, and didn’t stop or explain anything, or even really listen to me at all. Ravlor said that Damian is obviously hurting right now, and that he probably was speaking from his pain. He told me that I should be there for him, and that there is a chance that I might be the only one, as Damian’s friend, who has a chance to stop him from going completely mad and following in his father’s hatred for the Elves.
 
I told him that Damian hadn’t even reacted when he showed me the memory of his sister’s death… I think that is the one that bothers me the most… for that is the most unlike the Damian that I know.
 
“I was there, actually...” Ravlor said.
“What do you mean, you were there?”
“Me and Doodles.” He explained. “We blew up a boat, nearly didn’t make it out alive. Doodles was taken by a bullshark, and then I had to take him out. The bullshark, I mean... not Doodles. Huge scar on his leg. He made it out fine... grew a third arm too... alchemy. But, we got rid of the third arm. Now he’s got a tumor that he talks to... it gets really weird. Calls it his little brother, I don’t know...”
 
“How are you?” I ask after a moment, studying him intently.
“Been better. Been worse, too. Being with him is fun, I won’t lie. He’s good.” Ravlor smiled, somewhat sadly. “Very good, actually. But I can’t help but shake the thought that he’s going to be gone soon. It hurts, you know... losing people.”
“Yeah.” I nod.
 
Ravlor just sat there for a minute, letting the silence stretch before speaking. “You need me to do that grounding thing, don’t you?”
“Yeah...” I nodded. “We’re... I’m in Loec.”
“Have you run into the dead yet?”
I nodded again.
“How do you feel about it?” He asked.
“About to run into a lot more.” I told him.
“It makes me want to vomit, you know?”
“I already did that.”
“Hm.” He said. “Good. Do it for me too when you wake up.”
“Yeah.”
 
I couldn’t help but think that with the unknown outcome of the upcoming fight, I might not come out alive from it this time… “what... um... I can’t get lucky too many times...”
“No. You can’t” he said, obviously understanding where my mind was at.
“If...” I start to say.
“Are you in love?” Ravlor interrupts me.
“What?”
“Are you in love with him? I ask as your friend.”
“Maybe?”
“It’s going to hurt in the end.” He said sadly. “It always does.”
“You’re the one who told me it was worth it.”
 
“It is... and now I’m having second thoughts myself.”
“What do you mean, having second thoughts yourself? You told me it was worth it.”
“No... I meant that their lives are fickle. It’s awful. For us.” He explained. “They get to live their lives to the fullest, and we get to stay here, and have to deal with this. The loss, I mean.”
“Yeah, I know.” I really don’t want to think about any of my friends dying right now… I have enough of that without Ravlor reminding me that all of them, especially Grimaldus, are on a time limit of sorts, before their years run their course, and old age and death claim them… providing they live that long…
 
“Have… I know I’ve asked you this before, but I’m going to ask you again…” I carefully changed the subject. “What do you think of Filandrel?”
“I hate him.” Ravlor replied implacably.
“Why?”
“Because he can’t be trusted. Because an honest man would never have to take so many roles. You can already see it with him… he’s like a… there are these things in the jungle, they’re called chameleons… they just change their color to whatever… like a frog.” He explained. “He’s like a very thin, very lithe, intelligent, eloquent frog. Or a lizard. He just changes to the shape he needs to to fit whatever role he fits in and he just gets into your head. I can already tell you’ve talked to him recently.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. Ravlor can always tell, so there’s no sense lying to him even if I had something to hide.
“What did he say?”
“Do you promise it doesn’t leave here?” I leaned forward, holding his gaze with intensity. “Give me your word.”
“You can’t make me promise something when I don’t even know what you’re about to tell me. That’s not fair.”
“I know it’s not fair.” I sighed. “But if I tell you, and it gets out that I told you… if something happens to you that is my fault, I’m not going to be able to deal with that.”
“Fine.” Ravlor said after a moment. “I promise.”
 
“He’s not who he says he is.”
“Of course he’s not.” He scoffed. “Who is he, then?”
“Do you know anything about the one whom the humans call the Pale Master?”
 
Ravlor’s eyes shifted to me as if he actually knows a lot more than he was saying. He stood up, dropping the lute from his lap, and walked over to me. Reaching out, he touched his finger to my nose, placing an implacable hand on my shoulder.
“You NEED to stop. Get away from him as soon as you can.”
“Stop what?”
“Talking to him. Being around him. Knowing him. Everything. He’s dangerous… he’s beyond dangerous… Why do you think he even needs to hide his identity around our own kin? He’s a killer. I know better than most.” He said, bitterly.
 
“Explain it to me…”
 
“Hundreds, thousands killed by him or his orders in some way. Plagues unleashed. Babies burnt in their homes. All done by him. He’s a fanatic… he’s a fiend. Does the princess know?”
“I don’t know.” I lied. “I had suspicions…”
“Why would he tell you that?” Ravlor shook his head in disbelief.
 
“Because I asked him.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. He has no reason to tell you.”
“I know!”
“Does anyone else know?”
“Everyone suspects.” I explained
“Then everyone knows.” He said, as though his suspicions were confirmed. “Filandrel wants you to take his side. That’s what he wants. He wants to make sure that he is safe when the information gets out… it doesn’t get past you and your people. He’s already going to use you, and he’s going to say whatever it takes to make sure that you side with him. You know that. And you’re going to listen, because you ALWAYS listen.”
 
“So how do I not?” I asked.
“You tell him to go fuck himself.”
I laughed at the absurdity, even as I found myself wishing that I could. “Tell Filandrel to go fuck himself?”
“Yes. Quite eloquently, actually. Actually, Doodles got really good at telling people to go fuck themselves recently… you could ask him.”
I can picture Doodles screaming to the wind for people to go fuck themselves from the prow of his boat.
 
“He’s dangerous,” Ravlor insisted, “and he’s going to make you side with him. No matter what you do. And he’ll tear you apart from the people you love most. I’m telling you that now.”
 
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen him do it before.”
“Did he do it to you?” I asked.
 
“No. Because I never let him. The rangers don’t really answer to Egig Ero Fa, and most of us are raised from birth to do one thing. We’re dispossessed. We never really had a home. Some of us taken from a very young age to guard the border, it’s what we do. But occasionally we do hear stories of what goes on beyond the border… in the darker part of the woods.”
I felt the sudden urge to tell him that he could always go to my parents’ house with me, if he wanted to feel like he had a home. But I refrained. The last thing I need to do right now is cloud my mind with what-if’s…
 
“I want you to think about what I said.” Ravlor’s voice interrupted my thoughts.
“I always think about what you say.”
“And take care of my dear little friend… how’s he doing?”
“He’s pretty mad at me right now.” I admitted.
“Makes sense… I would be too. You took him near the dead. It’s probably cold out there too.”
“It’s fucking freezing.” I nearly shivered at the thought.
“You should wear something warm.”
 
“On the upside, you don’t have to deal with any of these fucking cats. You should see how many of them there are out here.” I could hear the exasperation in Ravlor’s voice.
“How many?” I laughed.
“I don’t know, hundreds, dozens.”
“You must be having fun.” I said, teasing him. For all of his affection for animals, Ravlor has never been particularly fond of cats… I think it’s because Aldon hated them with a passion, and on a subconscious level, I think that Ravlor must have let that aspect of his animal companion rub off onto him… even though the hawk has been gone for years.
 
“I don’t know why Doodles wanted to come to Boatmurdered, it makes no sense to me.” Ravlor admitted. “He says he’s following clues but he won’t tell me why. I thought your friend Garrick was dead, I don’t get it.”
“He is.”
“That’s what I said. But Doodles said he has a hunch. So now I have to follow him.”
“I never would have thought…” I could barely contain my laughter. “to see you traveling the world…”
“With a goblin?” Ravlor interrupted.
“…following behind a goblin’s whims.” I laughed as I finished.
“Nah,” Ravlor said in all seriousness. “He calls the shots. He’s the captain.”
 
Ravlor gave me a hug, saying “You come back alive, okay?”
“That’s the goal.” I replied. “You too.”
“Say hi to Meriwald for me.” He said as he turned and walked away.
 
I stayed in the dream for a short while longer... not yet ready to leave the forest of my home.

I regained consciousness a few minutes later, to find Meriwald looking as though he was about to cough up a pellet. Hasim asked if I did what I needed to do, and I nodded, before turning to Meriwald. “Ravlor says hi.” I told him, and was pleased to see how much the little owl perked up. I didn’t miss his self-indulgent “Destiny...” that he muttered... but I didn’t pursue it too much further. I did put a stop to his incessant kissing noises though...
 
Hasim was confused, I think. He asked if I’d spoken with someone that I know. I nodded, but otherwise ignored it. Of course I was speaking with someone I know... does he actually believe that I can just enter the dreams of a stranger? No matter... our watch was ending, and I had much to meditate on...
 
------------------------
 
The morning was heralded by a blaring horn. The dead usually come with an eerie silence, not with the sounding of horns... We all made our way to the bridge, and a vampire walked out, flanked by other undead. She demanded to speak with the girl, Hrist, as she let down her glamour, revealing a face that was uncomfortably similar to Inira’s... the same bright blue eyes, dark hair and fair skin – although this woman appeared to be even paler than Inira is... how that is possible for a living person, I’m not entirely sure. They talked for a time, but I wasn’t paying much heed to the conversation.
 
My mind was elsewhere, as my eyes kept being drawn to the wraithlike form of an elf, and the great undead dragon at his back... it was like looking into a nightmare. So, as I prepared to conjure an ally for this battle, my eye was drawn to the fey. Perhaps it is the curse of this place, or merely the dark path that my mind seems to be walking, either way, I decided that if I am to fight nightmares this day, then they should have to do the same. I called forth a dusk hag, for the first (and hopefully last) time in my life... A summoned nightmare to fight nightmares.
 
Battle ensued, and in the chaos, I don’t recall exactly what went on, but we did defeat the undead... at least this contingent of them... we faced their initial advance, likely meant to test our strength before the actual assault. I hope they don’t come during the night... we could all use some decent rest...