Eclipse

24th of Solae, 1485
 
This is going to be a much shorter entry than I normally write, I fear… for I am exhausted. Last night was the first night since… probably the war, now that I think of it, that I haven’t been able to meditate for the appropriate amount of time due to outside forces. I have had many nights of unrest, but those were mostly brought about by torments in my own mind…
 
After the battle, the men gathered all of the corpses of the dead into a pile and set it aflame. The acrid
odor permeated my senses until I couldn’t help myself against the side of the guard tower. Fortunately, I managed to get out of view of most of the others, I think… but Dekar found me. I suppose he would find me in this situation… I am just grateful that he didn’t say anything, aside from lifting my hair out of my face so I wouldn’t vomit on it.
 
When I finally gained control of my stomach, I used a cantrip to make my cloak smell like strong herbs and flowers and held it over my nose and mouth to try to minimize the stench. Bile rose in my throat with each breath, rising with the memories of the same stench burning on other battlefields… but I was able to wade through it the same way I had back during the war. It is interesting what the mind can do, even when the body is unwilling.
 
Then, Rowan came and sat down beside me, looking completely dejected. I asked her what was wrong, and she asked me how I felt when Filandrel betrayed me. What the fuck? So… I confronted her on how she could possibly know anything about that… and she has apparently been sneaking into my things and practicing her reading skills on my journal.
 
I feel violated. Why would she do that? She said that it was just laying around and she read a bit of it… but what she said confirms that she likely read the entirety of my writings from Latria. And, I know that it was in my bag… I never leave my spellbook laying carelessly around… Why would she do that? She said she was curious, and then had a hard time putting it down, I think she said something regarding my skill as a writer. Flattery to try to divert my attention… it didn’t work as I am not so easily dissuaded from a topic…
 
It does bother me though, on multiple levels and for different reasons… if Rowan wanted to know about my past, she could have always just asked me. And, why does she care? We’ve barely even spoken. But even more than that… now she knows far too much about everything that went on with Filandrel… that is especially dangerous information for her to have. And, even though she violated my privacy, I do not have any desire to see harm come to the gnome…
 
Rowan tried to spin in as she is asking if I think her master betrayed her… because he left her guarding a rock for seven years. Her people are even longer lived than mine… so I kind of laughed, seven years is nothing more than a blink of an eye to a gnome… I assured her that he probably considered it an important task for her, or if he was lying to her, then it is most likely to protect her in some way… at least in his mind.
 
I suggested that, whenever she does go to speak with Cojisto, that she bring Grimaldus along. She sulked and muttered that she doesn’t like Grimaldus, which doesn’t make any sense… well, yes, I suppose it does… he did apparently wake her up by swinging her around… but regardless… I am not the person to be talking to about how to tell if a mentor can be trusted… if it weren’t for Grimaldus and Damian, I’d very likely still trust Filandrel implicitly.
 
So, Rowan… if you are reading this… please stop. You can ask me whatever you want to know, there is no need to go snooping. I have educational books that you can practice your reading with, there’s no need to further invade my privacy.
 
A horn sounded, a precursor to the battle. A battle under an eclipse… there is apparently no end to the bad omens in this land…
 
The undead attacked. I won’t write much about the specific goings on of the battle… for I don’t desire to dwell on it… suffice to say that we managed to win the day, albeit at a nearly tragic loss… We almost lost Gerard and Hasim. Fortunately, I was able to teleport Hasim to safety by Secilia… but I was unable to reach Gerard…
 
At one point, I found myself paralyzed by the sight of the river, and the bodies of elves floating in its depths… from today, or a millennia ago, I couldn’t tell… but I was temporarily transfixed by the sight. Someone managed to snap me out of it, who, I don’t know. But I do know that in that time, I owed my life to Grimaldus… I think we all do. I could feel the soul-leeching powers of necromantic magic sapping away at my very life, but it didn’t hurt as bad as it should have… and I know that the reason must have been Grimaldus, standing on the bridge, surrounded by light.
 
…and they say that clerics cannot draw power from a dead god…
 
Hatholdir arrived as the second tide of undead was attacking. The remainder of the battle wasn’t even much of a fight. Hatholdir and the feathered woman teleported into the center of the bridge, as the contingent of armored elves ran up to support us. Some woman showed up with a small pack of wolves, I assumed correctly that she was the same one Dekar met in the woods a few nights ago.
 
We took the bridge, and I conjured a wall of stone to replace the broken segments. Dekar helped by molding the earth around it, I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was unnecessary. Besides, I’m likely not the only one who wanted to keep busy after the battle…
 
We ride out for the cursed city at first light. I don’t know what we are riding into, but I hope to live through it… I am not ready to die, but I refuse to allow myself or my friends to die in this cursed land…