Dungeons ARE Challenging!

Party Name: The Knights of the Silver Dawn.
Character Perspective: Nava (Arshea), Aasimar Bard 3 (or 4 maybe)~
My palm was sweaty against the handle of my whip, but that came as little surprise. We fought heavily through the first floor of the structure, one combat after the next, and now were feeling the strain of all our spells. I still had a trick or two up my sleeve, if you will, but I was worried by the bit of Goblin I could overhear from the room with the stairs. How they hadn’t managed to notice the clank of armor that accompanied Garek and Ahvrania I will never know.

Ahvra whispered to us that the Orc was ordering something to dance, and then we heard a Goblin die. Now seemed as good a time as any, so our leader looked back at us all and we nodded in turn. Celeste opened the door with Open/Close. It had become standard procedure by this point. Then Ahvrania moved into the room.

From my vantage point I could see a group of Goblin slaves. Six in count. Garek followed close on Ahvra’s heels, and Celeste closely behind him, leaving me to enter last.

Droplets of sweat trickled down my brow as I swallowed nervously and clenched the whip tighter. I entered the room with the dread feeling that combat would never be any less harrowing for me. Ahvra had gone along the wall between it and a table. We followed closely.

Ahvra came to a stop at the edge of the table, axe at the ready, as we came along the wall beside her. The table would provide a nice buffer between us and the orcs, so long as Celeste didn’t set it on fire somehow. Celeste readied her wand, her calculating eyes on the black-skinned Orc. Garek hefted his hammer, and I readied my whip.

It briefly crossed my mind to turn the table up so we could use it as a shield, but I was not strong enough to do that on my own, and by the time I was considering asking for help the fray had begun.

The orc guards came forward, one immediately met by Ahvrania’s axe blade. She didn’t land a blow quite hard enough to fell the creature, but she left a large gash in his flesh. The guards were wielding the curved blades we’d seen so much of now. They scored a blow on Ahvrania in turn, and I found myself thinking how lucky she was that three of us could heal.

The Goblins didn’t advance until the black-skinned orc had barked orders at them. I should have known what they were saying, but there was so much going on at once that I just didn’t have the focus to really understand the words. What I did understand was that they were abandoning their serving trays and readying weapons. My breath caught in my throat as they approached.

Blades clashed toward the back of the room as Ahvrania met the swings of her enemies, the leader who’d been on his throne seemed to have his focus on Celeste. Garek moved back, passing Celeste and myself to protect me from the Goblins, and just in time. The distance between he and them was closed as I drew forward. We made a tight little line, Ahvrania, Celeste, myself, and then Garek, keeping the table between us and our enemies.

I lashed out with my whip and managed to trip one of the Goblins. Soon after Garek brought his warhammer down on the foul creature’s skull with somewhat nauseating cracking noise. The sound of a door opening drew my eye, and there I saw a bugbear. It’s fur was black like night, white patches in it almost like stars, from it’s teeth a foul bile spilled.

“A-agh, more t-trouble!” I exclaimed.

Garek followed my gaze, “Where?”

“Y-you don’t, s-see it?” I stammered, tripping another Goblin as the creature sneered at me. My heart sank in my chest and my blood ran cold with fear. “It’s c-coming clos-er!”

Ahvrania fell one of the orc guards, but to little avail. The other moved forward and barred her path. The leader cast Scorching Ray on the Elf, and to my dismay she let out a howl of pain when it struck her.

The creature had jumped onto the far table, and as I watched the skulls piled on the table scattered and fell off of it. Just then the voice on the winds sound in my ear, the voice of Iuz, “I’ll see you soon, Nava.”

A whimper rent itself from me at the words and I cowered into the wall as the bugbear crossed the other two tables, an agent of Iuz sent to collect me. The thud of him landing on the table must have been lost in the din of combat for Garek didn’t take notice of the creature even then. Next I knew he disappeared, and then his short sword was buried in my side.

“A-agh!” I felt tears pour from my eyes as a thrill of panic started in my heart and spread through my entire being. He was going to take me back to Dorakaa, to that hell I’d known in the early years of my life. “G-garek, p-please.” I tried to trip the creature, but he was too close and my whip swept broad of him. was fortunate the swing of his sword in reaction missed my arm.

Garek blinked as he looked at me, “By all that’s Holy, there is somethin’ there! Look at the table!”

Ahvra cast a glance behind her and seemed to nod agreement as she saw the bowed in table top, but the sword of the guard soon had her attention again. The creature said nothing as he drew his sword back again, only let the sneer of his thin, black lips grow wider. ‘I’m going to die,’ I couldn’t help thinking it as he swung the blade down, my eyes widened and I cowered, but to no avail. The sword caught me in my shoulder, “N-no, pleas-se!” More tears fell from my eyes.

I felt Garek’s hand on my side and he pushed me past him, taking my place directly in front of the creature. I didn’t think it would be enough to distract the enemy, but I was by the door. I could run if I could just survive a few seconds longer.

I was moving toward it when the Goblins took their swings at me. I panicked when I felt the first blow connect and shrieked again, acting as though the wound had been far more lethal. My eyes fell closed and I let myself fall to the floor, hoping I could crawl away after the enemies repositioned.

“Nava!” Garek exclaimed in alarm. I heard Ahvrania growl and soon after the guttural howl of an orc below her axe.

“I see it!” Celeste said. I didn’t dare move. “I see it now. It’s a bugbear, Ahvrania, on the table!” Celeste’s voice was closer with the second statement than the first, but I couldn’t look to see what she was doing. Next thing I knew a wave of magic passed over me, and the goblins cried out as it contacted them. Color Spray from the sound of her incantation.

I was lucky I managed to resist the pull of its effects on my mind. Garek moved closer again, and I heard his hammer crack another goblin skull.

Celeste cried out in pain from the tabletop, but then I heard her murmur the verbal components for burning hands from the top of the room. She was just too slippery. The air around me grew warmer and the smell of burnt flesh flooded my nostrils. Finally I risked opening my eyes and saw that she’d managed to slay the remaining goblins with her spell.

I got to my feet in the chaos of the battle, stunning Garek and Celeste as I did, “Nava! Thank the gods you’re alright!” Garek said.

I offered him a meek smile as I fumbled for my wand and touched it to my side. The restorative magic flowed into me and healed some of the injuries I’d taken just in time for the creature to phase back into sight. “Oh n-no. N-not me-e.”

The bugbear moved to the corner of the table and undid all the magical healing my wand had provided with one well-placed swing. I was vaguely aware, as I focused all my attention on getting away from him, that Ahvrania had killed the last orc guard. She stepped forward to engage the caster, whose spell fizzled when Celeste pelted him with a Magic Missile from her wand. Meanwhile I ran to the far side of the chamber, praying the creature would focus on Ahvrania since she was proving a far worse threat. He did delay pursuit for a moment, and I thought perhaps I had lucked out.

The dark-skinned orc swore at Celeste and moved from the reach of Ahvrania’s axe. He threw a Ray of Frost at Celeste and our noble friend laughed in his face. “Is this what you’re reduced to? ‘Ray of Frost’?”

The orc snarled a response to Celeste about seeing how much she laughed with his dagger in her heart as the bugbear jumped to the next table, his eyes on me to my horror. ‘I shouldn’t have gotten up,’ I thought, and as I watched he closed the distance one table after the next until he was on the one right beside me. He vanished before my eyes and a squeak escaped my throat as he reappeared and brought the blade into my shoulder again. I only clung to consciousness now, fatigue from combat and terror alike taking it’s toll on my resolve (I think she was at 3 hp at this point).

My flight led me to the northeast corner of the room, where, to my horror, I realized I couldn’t run any further. The orc called out in pain from Ahvrania’s axe, his boasts toward Celeste all but silenced by it. Celeste ran toward me, but she jumped poorly on the tables and fell to the ground.

She disappeared and reappeared beside me (Pathfinder Teleportation specialist gets this wickedly useful ability called ‘Shift’ as a non-provoking swift action. Celeste is very mobile in combat as a result), eyes a bit wide. “Where is it?”

I pointed toward the creature and Celeste cast Color Spray from a scroll, but he looked unaffected to me. Ahvrania and Garek were slower with their full plate armor, and the creature vanished from sight again, “N-no-” I stammered, shrinking into the wall, but his blade connected and my world soon turned to darkness.

A Glimpse of Normal Life

Party Name: The Knights of the Silver Dawn.
Character Perspective: Celeste, Seuloise Wizard 3~
We rode into Westwatch on the Kalinstren Drafts that Elric had been so kind to gift us. The heat of the day was far more bearable with my Breeze spell moving the air for us and Nava’s Prestidigitation keeping us cleaner and cooler. Travel like this I really wasn’t accustomed to, but in time I surely would become so.

We didn’t take long to spot the Dagger & Rose inn, so we made our way there and saw to the stabling of the horses. I never imagined I would meet someone who didn’t appreciate a Kalinstren Draft, but Garek seemed of the opinion that horses were unpleasant. I suppose that’s not too surprising from a Dwarf.

Stepping inside was something I wasn’t entirely prepared for. No one rushed to greet us or swept off their hats in flourished bows to me, but the barkeep did bellow a welcome our way and bid us make ourselves at home. I followed Garek and Ahvrania to a table, but my attention was stolen by the fairly steady thunk of metal falling against wood. Three men sat around the next table over, one with his hand splayed over the wood, another with his hand on top of that man’s. They had a knife in hand and were stabbing it into the wooden table top between their spread fingers.

I’d never seen such a game in the Blackstar Inn back at Redoubt, but that likely related to the fact that they usually knew if I was going to be stopping in before I’d been sent to Bigby to learn from him. They were making wagers if the modest sum of coins on the other side of the table was something to guess by. When the knife blade came to a halt I watched as the man whose hand had been on top and the man who’d not a hand below the knife tipped a glass back and drank a shot. When they set their glasses back to the table top I spoke to the one nearest me, “Excuse me, Sir, what is that game you’re playing?”

The man smiled at me, likely a bit more than he would have if he hadn’t been drinking, “You’ve never seen Peg-the-Tom, Little Miss?”

“No, I don’t think I have. What are the rules?”

He laughed, as did his companions. “Simple enough rules for this game, just don’t cut yer hand or the hand on top of it. If you make it, we buy you a drink. If you miss, well, you get a little nick somewhere and you buy us a drink.”

“Oh. How interesting. Can I try?” I asked, figuring I’d do pretty well at a game so simple.

The man looked at me closer then, and blinked, “You’re a tad young for such a game, Missy.”

I felt a bit crestfallen, but nodded. It was only sensible.

“I’m not though!” Garek said, “I’ll have a go at it.”

The man raised a brow at my Dwarven companion, “You sure, Dwarf?”

“Aye, I’m sure.”

“Alright then, come on over and give us your name.” The men shuffled around the table a bit to make room for Garek.

“Name’s Garek Highhammer. What’s yours, Human?” Garek was grinning as he asked. Must have been odd for the man to be called human though, for he looked like he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Name’s Harin. Pleasure to meet you. What will you be wagering on this?” Harin asked.

“Mm. Five silvers that I can do five in ten,” Garek responded, clearly knowing the game at least a bit better than I.

“Five in ten. Stiff order for a Dwarf, but suit yourself. We have no problem taking your coin or giving you ours in a fair match.” Harin tapped the table and Garek laid his hand on it. The human put his hand over Garek’s much as he had placed it over the man before Garek, and I watched as my companion lifted the knife.

The first set was easy enough, Garek moved the blade relatively slowly, touching it to the wood between his fingers. The second set, of course, was slightly faster. Then the third. Halfway through the fourth set Garek hissed and Harin gave a hearty chuckle.

I heard another hiss from over my shoulder, Ahvrania. She’d apparently moved to my side for a better view of our neighboring table. “Alright,” the paladin said as they tipped their glasses, “My turn.”

“That wouldn’t be fair,” Harin said simply, “You’re an Elf.”

Ahvrania shrugged her shoulders a little and said, “Suit yourself. Come on Garek, I’ve a wager that I can outdo you.” She grinned at Garek and they returned to our table, drawing their own knife for their round of the game.

“So,” I said to Harin, “What do you know of the raids going on?”

“The raids? Ah, they’re not that bad. Mayor’s overreacting sending for adventurers.” He spun the knife to the other two men at the table as he turned to regard me.

“Not that bad?”

“Naw, a couple orcs one time, a few goblins the next. We only seen around three in a given raid. Still, they been going on for a few weeks now. Mayor sent word over to Redoubt, but the Baron never saw fit to respond. Guess that makes sense, what with his passing and all.” Harin rubbed his chin as he spoke.

I bristled a bit at that, my father would have responded if he’d been in his right mind during those last weeks. “And you heard nothing back from Lord-Regent Elric?”

“Nope, not a thing. What are you folk doing here anyway?”

“We’re here to tend to the problem.” I caught sight of Nava sitting at the bar on the other side of the room. I couldn’t remember when she’d gone over there, but it seemed a quieter part of the establishment than the actual tables were proving to be.

“And what does someone as young as you care about the welfare of Westwatch for?” He looked a bit perplexed and it occurred to me he must have been wondering at my part in our adventuring band.

“I’m Lady Celeste Kalinstren, and my friends and I are here because we were concerned when we heard reports of the raiding.” My eyes were on him again.

He was taken aback by this revelation and I saw his eyes swivel to the signet ring on my finger. “My Lady! I, what, shouldn’t you be safe in Redoubt?”

I chuckled at that, a smile stealing across my lips, “I suppose it would be safe in Redoubt, but I’d be little good to you or anyone else there. I’m too young to inherit as yet.” There was more to that thought than I said aloud, for my inheritance was blocked unless I managed to somehow slay the Old One.

“Still, it’s dangerous on the road, and you’re the only heir.”

“That I am, Harin, but my friends will keep me safe.” He nodded slowly at my words and I went on, hoping to change the subject, “So what is it you do for a living here?”

“I’m a trapper. Been making my way off the game of the Vesve Forest for years, little Lady.” He took a drink from a large mug of what was likely a weak ale now.

“The Vesve Forest? And don’t you find that to be dangerous work?” Most of what I knew about the Vesve was, of course, that it was bordered by the Raising Line and the lands of Iuz, neither made for friendly circumstances.

“It can be I suppose, but mostly I’m dealing with a wolf now and then, maybe a bear or stag. Strange thing though, something happening in the Defiled Glade. I’ve run into five diseased beasts in the surrounding forest now, each heading outward.” He rubbed his chin again.

“You don’t say? We’d heard rumors of activities in the Glade. Whereabouts did you encounter them?” I heard some noise outside, but discounted it as I awaited his answer. Diseased beasts coming from the glade posed a threat to many in the lands of Kalinstren if we didn’t discover the source of them quickly.

Harin went about explaining his encounters with the beasts, giving me rough directions. In the end he had described a semicircle starting from south of the glade and going west. The semicircle he’d encountered ended in the northwest, and the times seemed to suggest these creatures might have been released intentionally at increments as an experiment. Disturbing revelations indeed.

No sooner than I had opened my mouth to ask my next question than we heard a scream from the outside. Shattering glass and a plume of flame erupted in the back corner of the seating, right in front of the common room door. Harin drew a weapon and I got to my feet, before I could even turn around Ahvrania and Garek were moving toward the door with weapons in hand.

The doors burst open and what I knew as Sornkar orcs from Master Bigby’s tutelage soon rushed to meet Ahvrania’s greataxe. Time seemed to slow down and my lessons flooded my mind. There was fire in the corner of the room, and most of the inn’s inhabitants were fleeing through a back door, but there might have been people in the common room or up the stairs.

I had no time to worry about them though, with the savage host of orcs wielding wicked curved blades. My fingers dipped into my spell component pouch as I moved to the base of the stairs. Best to keep a calm mind and be certain my spells fell favorably in my first real combat.

The Oath Sworn

Party Name: The Knights of the Silver Dawn.
Character Perspective: Ahvrania, Passionate Gray Elf Paladin.

Nava’s eyes kept roaming over the horizon, like she expected some terrible storm to suddenly form in our path. I felt for her, truly, but once Garek had an idea in his head there was no dissuading him and he was right about the cause of the noble from the north.

“S-so, we’re r-really go-ing to R-redoubt?” Nava asked in her shaky voice.

“Aye, Lass, got a chance to do some good and with any luck,” Garek trailed off as he regarded Nava.

“W-with any luck?” the bard timidly prompted him.

“The noble will prove ta be the right sort and yeh’ll get a chance ta face yer fears an overcome ‘em with Ahvrania and I at yer side,” Garek said, a kindness in his eyes that he spared for few outside of Nava.

I smiled at the bard as well, wanting to reassure her. She was safe with us so long as we stood. We’d do everything to protect her from the horrors of her past. I think she knew this, but even knowing was not enough to keep her nightmares from growing worse as we closed some of the distance we’d put between her and the territories of the Old One. We woke up to her screams on more than one occasion, both springing from our bedrolls to go to arms against whatever foe had befallen us, but we weren’t attacked on our northerly travels. We were simply besotted by the ghosts of our companion’s past.

Redoubt was a welcome sight when we finally reached it. Walls that looked as sturdy as those of any fortress I’d laid eyes upon stood before us, row upon row of ballistae watched our approach. More than once I was reminded of why this was rumored to be the safest keep in Kalinstren.

“Mm, Dwarven-made walls. Those are good, healthy walls right there, Ahvrania,” Garek said as we drew near, racial pride shining through in his heavy Dwarven accent.

I couldn’t help a small chuckle as I glanced at my companion, “You’d say that about any Dwarven structure, Friend.”

“Aye, I would, an’ I’d be right ta do so!”

“Hail, Travelers,” the guards’ voices cut into our merry conversation. They seemed in good spirits despite being in the war-torn lands of the north.

We kept an even pace as we approached, and Garek readily allowed me to do the talking. “Greetings to you, Gentlemen.”

The one who’d issued their initial greeting blinked in surprise, probably because of my warm and friendly attitude. He regained himself quickly enough and continued, “What brings you to Redoubt on this fine day?”

“Ah, my good man, I am Ahvrania Iiremen’surre’esta and these are my companions Garek Highhammer and Nava,” I indicated each in turn as I spoke, though I kept my eyes on the guards. I didn’t expect trouble from them, but a warrior’s vigilance rarely falters once it is a learned habit. “We call ourselves the Knights of the Silver Dawn and we’re here to answer the summons from your Lady Celeste Kalinstren.”

The two guards looked at one another in surprise, being slow to answer me. Eventually I tilted my head and took a step nearer, “Is she no longer in residence?”

“Ah, no,” one of the guards stammered, “It’s not that, Lady Elf, we just, didn’t expect anyone to answer. Please, this way.”

They led us through the tall gates of the fortress walls and into the courtyard beyond. The familiar sound of a blacksmith’s work reached my ear, as well as merriment from what looked to be a tavern within the fortress’ outer walls. Eventually we were led into a chamber within the keep proper and there we waited.

Considering we were strangers to the city the wait was short. A servant announced the Lord-Regent and Lady Kalinstren and we watched as they approached. The Lord-Regent, an elderly man by the name of Elric Darmon, spoke first, “Please allow me to welcome you to the lands of Kalinstren and to Redoubt itself.”

The young noble, she couldn’t have been an adult (Going by D&D Human aging adults are 15, I believe. Celeste is 13 during this scene) by the look of her, spoke shortly after him, “I am Lady Celeste Kalinstren. They have informed us that you came in answer to my… summons?”

Garek stepped forward, a smile on his face, “Aye, Lady Kalinstren. Anyone who wants to act against the Old One has our support.”

I couldn’t help a small smile from curling on my lips. Garek had always been quick to make snap judgments about a person’s character traits, but he’d insisted they’d only join Lady Kalinstren’s cause if she seemed to prove her mettle.

“Then you are most welcome here indeed. Forgive me, what are your names?” the young noble asked.

“Ah, Garek Highhammer, at yer service.”

Garek turned toward me and I stepped forward to stand beside him, “Ahvrania Iiremen’surre’esta, Milady.” I inclined my head toward her respectfully.

I was fairly certain I’d heard Nava step forward in my wake, but it would be Garek who introduced her, “This is our companion Nava. We are the Knights of the Silver Dawn.”

“A pleasure, I’m certain.”

“May I ask yeh, Lady Kalinstren, what is it yeh hope to accomplish in yer… adventures, was it?” Garek said.

The lady nodded, “You may ask anything you like, for it is quite a proposition I make. My hope is that I will be able to delay him, to hurt him for all the pains he has inflicted upon my family and the people of the Barony of Kalinstren. Of course, I do not think I could act against him directly this day, but my hope is to grow stronger in my ventures, Garek.”

Garek’s smile had grown wider by the time the noble finished speaking. She certainly seemed optimistic in her tone, if a bit cautiously so. “Excellent. Let us make an oath then!”

I blinked, turning my gaze on Garek in open surprise. The look he gave me was one to quiet my nerves as the young noble said, “An oath of what nature?”

“That we will not rest until we have defeated or bound the Old One, of course, and done everything in our power to hinder him in the interim unless death come upon us before our task is completed,” Garek said. I wanted to rub my temples at the rash decision of my love, but I resisted the impulse.

Lady Kalinstren seemed equally surprised. “You would make such an oath so lightly, Garek Highhammer?” she asked.

“Our interests are aligned. At the very least this oath will bind us to a common, noble cause in the defense of those who have suffered from the Old One’s torments. I see no reason not to make it, Lady Kalinstren,” Garek said.

“I will take such an oath,” Lady Kalinstren said.

An interesting decision, and one I suspected we could come to better understand in time, “Then I will as well,” I said.

Garek held his hand out, palm upward. I placed mine on top of his as Lady Kalinstren closed the distance between us. Her small hand rested over mine gently, feather-light. It may as well have not been there for all it weighed. Nava was the last to put her hand in, and when she did I could see that it trembled a bit.

Garek must have noticed it too, for he said softly, “You don’t have to, Nava.”

The Aasimar shook her head, eyes showing that she was at least a bit fearful of the oath we would swear. She kept her hand in place though, saying, “I-I w-want to, Garek.”

Garek nodded, rested his other hand on top of Nava’s, closed his eyes, and intoned, “On this day, the eighth of Readying, 591, do we hereby swear that we will, ta our best effort, hinder an’ delay the forces of the Old One in any way we can manage until such time as we are able ta kill him or ta bind him from this place eternally, lest death should fall upon us.” After a brief pause he continued, “Furthermore, the Knights of the Silver Dawn do swear that while we honor this oath we shall also do our best to render protection unto our noble charge, Lady Celeste Kalinstren, lest death fall upon us. This we swear in the eyes of the Morndinsamman, Tel Seldarine, and all other Gods of Good.”

A familiar and pleasant sensation filled the air around us after the conclusion of his deep intonation. Garek had cast Bless to seal our oath. “This do we swear,” I said softly.

“This do we swear,” the others echoed.

The Nymph’s Glade

An excerpt from yesterday’s adventures.
Party Name: The Knights of the Silver Dawn.
Character Perspective: Arshae, (Justifiably) Cowardly Aasimar Bard.

Three days since I’d met the unicorns. One day since I’d died. The morning was plain enough. We struck out to the south from Delvenbras, winding our way through the trees with our two remaining Kalistren Drafts. How was it possible that it had only been a few days since our encounter with the Behir and the loss of Ahvrania and Garek’s steeds?

Jaken walked near me and I smiled at him. From what Celeste and the others had said he cried with them when I fell and his own death came a short time after mine. The latter, of course, is disheartening. I hate to think of him dying. He’s made so much progress in the past few days… From the ways of the Old One to a reliable ally for us. I wonder though how it’s so easy for me to trust him when I trust so few… Perhaps because of how we encountered him.

I count my lucky stars that Ahvra, Garek, and Celeste made it through the rest of the Goblinoids without us.

Morning slowly slips to midday, the heat and moisture in the air made worse by the fairly hard rain falling from the skies. Somewhere in our travels we must have gotten turned around because we saw the same tree with its lightning-scar three times. Progress was slow.

Lunch was comprised of rations eaten under the shelter of our hoods. The rain soaked through them of course, leaving our skin feeling like it was coated in warm sweat. I felt worst for Ahvrania, Garek, and Jaken as the rain found the cracks in their full plate. At least we had a spare cloak to offer Jaken when Ahvra took the Cloak of the Manta Ray for herself.

Noontime crept by, and in the afternoon we stumbled quite suddenly into reprieve… A glade as beautiful as any ever dreamed, and the sky above as clear as the driest of summer days. It caught me by surprise and I cast a look around just in time to hear her giggle, like music on the wind.

My eyes lighted on an elf more stunning and beautiful than any I had ever seen. She sat on the edge of a pond, legs splashing in the water. Her dress was wet and clung to her form as I heard Celeste murmur, “She’s a nymph.”

“Quite correct you are,” the nymph responded, a smile on her lips.

We were all silent for a time, shocked at this respite after the trials we’d known in Delvenbras. The world felt safe to me in a way completely different than I’d ever known. It was Celeste who eventually spoke again.

“May we shelter in this glade?” our noble companion asked in a soft voice.

“Of course you may,” the nymph responded, rising and approaching gracefully. “My name is Tellsondra,” she said.

“A pleasure to meet you, Tellsondra. I am Celeste Kalinstren,” Celeste only paused a moment in her introduction, for she’d taken to introducing us as she did herself, but the nymph interjected.

“And you are Arshea,” Tellsondra said.

She was looking straight at me with those dazzling eyes and I found my mind racing. Was Ehlonna’s hand in this? Of course. “I-I am. How d-did you know?” My words were broken as they often were, my nerves shaken a little by her attention.

“The family of unicorns spoke to me of you when they passed through here,” Tellsondra said.

I swallowed awkwardly. “Th-they did? D-did they f-find their d-daughter?” I’d worried for them so after meeting them.

“They did,” Tellsondra said.

“S-so she’s a-alright?”

The nymph nodded before reaching a hand out and touching my cheek, “You have done so much for Ehlonna in so short a time, Arshea.”

“I-I have?” My brows were knit in confusion as I regarded her, for all I’d done was stand beside my comrades as we sought the Well of Many Worlds in the depths of Delvenbras.

Tellsondra giggled, letting her hand fall to her side again. She addressed us all then saying, “Please, all of you, take what rest you would in my care. I will keep you safe.”

Promises

Another continuation of my Maiden of Shadows stories. This link, however, is different from previous links back to the other parts… As it’s linking the Tag as a whole for my blog. I figure this way if I tag anything with ‘Maiden of Shadows’ it will be able to be found through the links in future parts of the tale.

So, here’s to hoping you enjoy this… Though… I feel I should note that I do think all of these pieces need revising and editing, but honestly what’s important to me for the moment is just writing the story as it comes to me. I’ll go back to look for inconsistencies later.

Anyway, enjoy:

Glossary

Soel’Raen Terms

Soel’Raen – The race of Darkdwellers. Roughly translated to Trade this means “Shadow People”.
Renat – The Dark Maiden, Goddess of Life, Goddess of Shadow and Night. The Dark Maiden is associated with the absence of light. Her most glorious days were those before the birth of stars, when she swept over the lands in the absence of the suns. Unfortunately, she was not the only sentience to embody the darkness. Renat believed that life was sacred, she created the Soel’Raen to protect the life already on the planet, her wardens.
Soeltorne – “Shadow-walking”. The old way of travel for the Soel’Raen. Elders of the days when Soeltorne was common and easy spoke of days when Soeltorne meant “Shadow-dwelling”. Days when their homes were made in the darkness cast by the very blades of grass.
Caerdin – “Lightborn”. The Soel’Raen’s name for those who walk the world without darkness.
Olcaer’Astor & Olcaer’Nurin – “Sky Light, Minor” & “Sky Light, Major”.
Luen – The name given to the moon by the Soel’Raen.
Eres’Soel – “Shadow Ward”.
Eres’Caed – “Soul Ward”. The priests of Renat.
Raez – Cardinal, chief, most important.
Olad – Sin, wrong.
Moer/din – Dark/ness.
Mornel – Weakening, Trying, Exacting.
Morlad – Fatigue, exhaustion, tired.

Elven Terms

Madrin – God of Magic, Mysticism, and Dreams. Madrin is associated with the moon. It is said that in dreams Madrin touches your mind and offers guidance and inspiration. The Elves believe that in times of need he can be found within or without, as light shines through the darkness so his influence should be felt throughout your being.

Human Terms

Thaegan – The God of Men. He is associated with the sun and moon, with harvest, travel, war, and knowledge. Thaegan is believed to embody all things, to be the source of Man’s creation, and to be the new ‘Keeper of the World’. Men are not arrogant enough in their young age to believe their one God created the world, not while the Elves, their long-lived enemies, pray to Madrin. They do believe, however, that Madrin’s time has come and that Thaegan is the new God, the one God, the true God.
Nura’Din – “Tainted Skin” The name given to the Soel’Raen by humans, and quickly adopted by elves for the Soel’Raen as well.

Story

Promises

Hour after hour slipped by, and with each he imagined he could feel the crypt growing more oppressive. Logically he knew it would have taken days for him to suffocate within the confines of such a vast complex and that water would have become a more serious need than air within a night or two, but that didn’t stop him from feeling as though the walls were getting closer.

His deft fingers ran along the creases between the stones set into the floor for what felt like the thousandth time, and for what felt like the thousandth time he found nothing out of the ordinary in the small crease of the worked stones. “This is pointless,” he grumbled as he let himself fall back on the floor, sweat and dust clinging to his bare skin… And likely particles of other, far more disturbing things from the crypt.

As he lay there, staring at the ceiling high above, the man considered his options. He could continue trying to find another way out while ignoring the protests of his empty belly and dry throat or he could call the ghost back. He turned his gaze down to the little black stone that hung from the rough leather strap around his neck. He’d never imagined it would cause him so much trouble when he’d slipped it from the Elven corpse.

He’d heard stories about ghosts. How if you took their purpose from them, or their anchor, it undid their foul magics. Chances were that destroying the little black gem would do nothing though, not while she was anchored to the tower. Even if it had been only the necklace, had she sealed the doors through magic, or simply moved something in their way with her magic? The latter wouldn’t have changed even if she’d been destroyed, or so he thought.

“Gah, fine,” the man grumbled as he took the stone between his thumb and forefinger. He laid still for a few moments, the stone trapped between his strong, dexterous fingers, and then focused on the name she’d given, ‘Nesara’.

The room chilled noticeably, a fog descending from the ceiling to hang in the air around the man. The fog seemed to pull into itself, becoming more solid as it did, and slowly forming the ghost he’d listened to in the early hours of that morning. “Have you made your choice so quickly then?” She asked, her voice a mockery of polite curiosity.

“Not much of a choice to make, is it?” He sat and rose to his feet so he could look her in the eye. “Let’s get this damned thing over with, Ghost. I want to know though, before we do this, just what I’m binding myself to, just how you think I could possibly destroy the Scar of the World, and how you’re going to help.”

She folded her arms, leaning nonchalantly on the wall that she could have as easily passed through had she wished to, “You presume I’m going to help at all.” They stared at one another, her lifeless gaze met by his aggravated one. Eventually she continued, “You are binding yourself to me in a life-oath. That oath will be to see the tower destroyed, to do everything in your power to make it happen.”

The man nodded grimly, “Yes, yes, that much I do understand. How does it work?”

“Ah. A smarter question than the first. I will break the skin of your wrist so you will bleed, though it will be a slow bleed. You will swear the oath as you are bleeding, and I will take the blood, and with it the promise you make. Should you break your oath, your soul will be forfeit.” She spoke about it casually, like it was little concern of hers.

“My soul?” He drew in a long breath, stretching as he did so. His blue eyes turned on the door of the crypt, “Thaegan’s blood, how did I get into such a mess?”

It was a rhetorical question, but that didn’t stop Nesara from speaking up, “You defiled a crypt.”

“An Elven crypt,” he countered testily, “No one in here deserved their rest.. And it’s not like they need their trinkets in the afterlife, now, is it?”

“So testy, young man. Who are you to judge them? Did you know them? Did you watch them make their choices and lead their lives?”

Likely it was the way she sounded when she asked the questions that made Nesara grate on him so. “Elves deserve nothing, but before you say another word.. Humans deserve little more.”

That gave the ghost some pause, though it did explain how the man before her could be so casual about robbing the dead. “Hm. And the Soel’Raen?” she asked.

“The Nura’Din. I thought them mostly wives’ tales to keep children behaving until your story, Spirit. The Nura’Din deserve death more than either of the other races.” He frowned as he thought on that, and even as he was frowning the ghost advanced.

“Indeed. I’m pleased you feel that way, for however improper blind hatred may be, it serves my purpose well. Give me your arm, Nura’Soel.” She held her hand out expectantly, eyes resting on his face.

The man hesitated, meeting her gaze. “We’re not done.. And don’t call me that.”

“Why shouldn’t I? You call my people ‘tainted skin’. It seems appropriate to call a half-Soel’Raen ‘tainted shadow’ don’t you think?” He was not amused by her attitude, but that concerned the ghost very little, “I suppose you wish to know how you will destroy the tower,” she continued. “It’s not a simple task, to be certain, but it is a task that only someone of Soel’Raen blood can do.”

He waited for more, but the ghost had fallen silent. When he was convinced she was not going to offer anything further without prodding the man took a step back, “I’ve told you I’ll give you your oath… Now tell me what exactly someone of Soel’Raen blood can do to unweave the foul magic you described.”

She sighed now, turning away from him as she spoke, “Deep below the tower is the source of it, and of the plague. A pool of corruption. I don’t know how to destroy that, but I know it’s related to Soeltorne, which only the Soel’Raen can do.”

“You don’t even know how to do what you task me with? This is ridiculous,” the man tapped the hilt at his belt, “alright, let’s assume I do figure out how to call on the blood supposedly in my veins to use ‘Soeltorne’, why do you think a half-blooded Soel’Raen would stand any chance at undoing the works of someone so powerful?”

She turned back toward him again, eyes flashing with anger at his incredulous tone, “Because someone has to! The Soel’Raen can’t touch the works of Madrin, not really, not truly.. Only humans and elves can do that.”

He nodded his head slowly, “And now it all makes sense. Half Soel’Raen, half-human. That’s why me. If you want this to work, Ghost, you better be willing to help. I’ve not a shred of a chance on my own. I know nothing of magic.”

Her anger softened as she regarded him, “And yet, you don’t refuse?”

He shrugged his shoulders and lifted his hands to indicate the room, “No, I don’t refuse. I’d rather not die in this place.”

“Cowardice. Quite a motivator,” the spirit began.

“Hey now, you’re getting what you want. No need to ruffle my feathers,” he protested.

“Fine. Come here and give me your wrist,” she held her hand out again, waiting, and he moved forward. A smile snaked across her pale lips as she saw him hesitate again. “I’m not going to bite,” she assured him. The man slowly moved his bare wrist to her palm, but the gradual nature of the motion did nothing to spare him the shock of the freezing cold when their skin connected. It penetrated his wrist, deep, to the bone, enough so that his teeth chattered after only a few moments of sustained contact. “Good. Now, swear to me your service in my task.”

He opened his lips to speak, but before the words could pass them he felt a piercing sensation travel along his wrist. It’s trail was about inches long, and thin as a parchment’s edge, and then the cold sank deeper. A few garbled words fell over one another in his haste to speak, at least one of them the exclamation of a curse. When he realized he was forming no coherent statements the man paused to collect himself, a woozy feeling rushing over him as he did. When he spoke again, the words were carefully measured, “I, Jakkan Hass, swear to you that I will do all within my power to destroy the Scar of the World.”

Jakkan tried then to move his arm away, but the spirit wouldn’t have it, “Swear it even unto death, Jakkan Hass.”

He grinded his teeth together as her vice-like grip held his wrist in place, “I swear it, even if it carries me to my grave, Ghost.”

“Good,” the spirit said, releasing his arm.

Another sharp pain manifested in his flesh as the contact was broken, this time much more acutely. It felt like an old scar was slowly being forced open by a very dull point. A small cry passed his lips as he looked at his arm. There, in the relatively soft, tan skin of his wrist, was a three inch long scar as thin as a piece of parchment and as white as fresh fallen snow. “What is this?”

“Just what it looks like, a scar to bind you to the word you’ve given.” The ghost was looking into the dark, red liquid pooled in her open palm. “It also binds us together more permanently. Now I can find you even if you discard the necklace, which I recommend you keep.” She turned her gaze on him, and as she did so the pool of blood she held sank into her semi-transparent skin, disappearing as it did.

He looked from her hand to his wrist and back again with a shake of his head. “Alright, Nesara, the oath is sworn. Will you be helping me, or am I to find some other means of learning Soeltorne?”

The ghost smiled at him again, this time with what seemed to be genuine compassion. “I will help you as I’m able, Jakkan, but this far from the tower my time is limited.”

Jakkan frowned at that, “Of course.” He rubbed at the scar on his wrist, “Of course it is. I take it you don’t have much longer here now?” He raised an eyebrow at the ghost, frowning deeper when she shook her head. “Very well then. I will see what I can learn on my own, Spirit, and I will make my way to the south. You… You do what you can to figure out how, exactly, one might destroy the well of corruption.”

“Giving me orders now, Boy?” the spirit asked.

Jakkan grunted once and said, “I suppose so. You need me after all, and you’re the most likely to figure out what must be done.”

Nesara considered the thief for a time before nodding, “Unfortunately, you’re right. I’ll see what I can find out, Nura’Soel, and perhaps when we speak next I’ll be able to better inform you of what your task entails.”

“Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Jakkan said sarcastically.

Nesara’s gaze turned on the great, stone doors of the crypt. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated her efforts. Light flooded the chamber as the stone doors swung open, and with it, fresh air.

Jakkan’s lips spread in a smile as he drew his first breath of it. He was feeling much less crowded with the doors open and much less frantic to get things underway. He turned toward Nesara and could have sworn he saw sweat trailing along her throat, but surely ghosts didn’t sweat. “Well then,” Jakkan said.

“You are free, for now, Jakkan. Do be sure you travel south, for while I may not have much time when you’re so far from the tower, we have made a binding contract.” Her voice was cold as she spoke, judging.

“You think I’ll run from this? I’m too much of a coward to risk my life that way. Now if I can convince you to pass the task along to some other soul I find on the road, that will be a different matter.” He offered her a weak smile, but it was not returned.

“You will not be able to. The oath is sworn, the binding made, and the task woven with your fate.” She began fading from his vision, and as she did she reached a hand out to touch his shoulder, sending that probing cold into his muscles, “Farewell, Jakkan. We will speak again.”

An Unlikely Champion

Continuation of my Maiden of Shadows and Tasking the Maiden… Though my heroine turned male on me, and he’s come into much clearer perspective since doing so. Whole separate post to come later for him. In the meantime…

Glossary

Soel’Raen – The race of Darkdwellers. Roughly translated to Trade this means “Shadow People”.
Nura’Din – “Tainted Skin” The name given to the Soel’Raen by humans, and quickly adopted by elves for the Soel’Raen as well.
Soeltorne – “Shadow-walking”. The old way of travel for the Soel’Raen. Elders of the days when Soeltorne was common and easy spoke of days when Soeltorne meant “Shadow-dwelling”. Days when their homes were made in the darkness cast by the very blades of grass.
Caerdin – “Lightborn”. The Soel’Raen’s name for those who walk the world without darkness.
Olcaer’Astor & Olcaer’Nurin – “Sky Light, Minor” & “Sky Light, Major”.
Luen – The name given to the moon by the Soel’Raen.
Renat – The Dark Maiden, Goddess of Life, Goddess of Shadow and Night.
Madrin – God of Magic, Mysticism, and Dreams.
Eres’Soel – “Shadow Ward”.
Eres’Caed – “Soul Ward”. The priests of Renat.
Raez – Cardinal, chief, most important.
Olad – Sin, wrong.
Moer/din – Dark/ness.
Mornel – Weakening, Trying, Exacting.
Morlad – Fatigue, exhaustion, tired.

Story:

An Unlikely Champion

He had to admit the spirit was charismatic. This because somewhere in his soul there was a stirring of sympathy for the things she had been witness to. It didn’t change that she was a ghost in an Elven crypt, and it certainly didn’t make her charge any less outrageous. “You must be joking,” the man said.

“Must I? Would I have come here to tell you all of this, wasting your breath and my time, if it were a joke?” the ghost countered as she hovered a few inches off the floor.

He chewed his lower lip briefly as he regarded her, unsure how best to proceed. When he did speak it was with hesitance, “Look, I don’t usually deal with… people.. like you-”

“Like me? You must mean dead, Boy,” the spirit’s voice carried some animosity in it as she spoke the words, her lifeless eyes fixing upon the slate blue eyes of the man before her.

He shifted his weight uncomfortably under that gaze as he wondered what she was thinking. “Well.. Yes. And I’m not sure what brought you to me, but I don’t think I can help you,” he said carefully.

The smile that stole across the ghost’s lips made her that much eerier as she floated before him. “You don’t know, correct. But I do, Boy. You have the blood in you.”

“The blood?” he asked, clearly perplexed.

“Don’t be dense, Boy. The blood of the Soel’Raen courses through the veins under your dusky skin as surely as it flowed through mine when I had a body.” She paused, eyes lowering from his and resting now on his throat, “No other blood would call the stone to life.”

His hand lifted to his throat and rested briefly on the smooth, black stone under her gaze. “The stone.. This trinket?” He’d only recently claimed it from the crypt he was robbing, lifting it from the corpse whose neck it hung around with care not to damage it.

“Indeed, that stone, that trinket, stolen from the corpse of the murderer who slew its original owner. Appropriate, I should think,” she moved as though she’d grown tired of floating in the same position, much like one would grow tired of standing in the same position. “You didn’t know of your heritage?”

“I’m not a Soel’Raen,” indignance carried in his voice, lined with a touch of pride.

“No, indeed. No Soel’Raen would cower as you do,” the ghost said.

“I’m not cowering.”

She sneered as she floated forward, “Are you not? Physically, no, and yet you dance so delicately around your thoughts, careful not to offend. Such a polite tomb robber.”

“No body in this tomb deserves to be respected,” he spat, resting his hand back on the leather belt from which his sword was hanging.

“Mm, true. I can’t argue with you about the valor of the Elves or their worthiness.. But tell me this, have you never taken something from a body deserving of respect? Do you live by some code of honor known only to those who steal from the dead?”

He pressed his thumb into the underside of the belt as he gripped it causing it to creak softly, his gaze unwavering as it met hers.

“I take your silence as a manifestation of your guilt,” she sounded satisfied with herself. “But on to a more important matter. It must be you to end the blight and to bring ruin to the tower.”

He sighed, “Why, Ghost? Why me of all mortals?”

“Because you are the only one I can speak to through the stone you wear around your neck.” She stopped her floating and let her feet set upon the ground in front of him. Like that Nesara stood at least a full foot shorter than he. “Because you are here now and I can make you bind yourself to an oath while you remain.”

One of his dark, brown eyebrows raised in question at those words, and the man crossed his arms before him, “Can you now? I’d heard that spirits were dangerous for the stronger connection they had to Madrin’s breath, but never that they held sway over the minds of the living.”

The specter smiled, and he found that to be nearly as unsettling as her sneer, “You give me too much credit, mortal. I cannot control your mind, nor do I claim to be able to.”

“Then how would you propose to make me ascent to this binding?” His stance had relaxed some as he posed the question to her, feeling confident she couldn’t succeed at what she claimed.

“Simple, Mortal. I’ll hold the doors of the crypt closed until I have your oath on your soul…” She watched as his blue eyes turned on the closed doors of the crypt, a small look of triumph in her eyes as he moved toward it. “Or until you die,” she continued, “…which would be unfortunate. The blight is spreading, after all.” Her voice made it sound as though they enjoyed the pleasantries of good friends after a long absence between them,

He set his hands against the heavy stone doors, leaning forward and pushing to no avail. His muscles strained as he turned, setting his shoulder to the stone instead, feet braced against the stone floor of the crypt.

“It’s no use,” Nesara said sweetly, “…the doors may as well be freshly sealed, and seals aren’t easy to break from the inside, dear boy.”

Still he strained and grunted, putting all of his strength behind his efforts. It made for a decent show before he finally relented and leaned back against the door. His breath came in pants by then and sweat now glistened on his face and arms where they were bare. “You,” she raised her brow in turn, waiting for his thought to come to completion, but no words came, for insulting her meant he surely wouldn’t escape.

She let the silence draw out before speaking again. When she did her tone was colder, “Now.. You swear to me, on your soul, that you will attempt to do as I have asked with my guidance… And I will let you leave this place alive.”

He pressed back against the stone door one more time, but it showed no sign of giving. “My soul? Pretty steep price, isn’t it?”

She walked across the room toward him again, the smile on her lips again, “Mm, it would be, but tell me, what good is your soul if you’re dead?” She let him think about that one as she finished crossing the vast, stone chamber. She stopped in front of him again, this time very close. “Besides, you only lose your soul if you don’t hold to your oath,” Nesara said, reaching her hand up to touch his cheek.

The contact was cold, near-freezing even, and it sent chills through his entire body. “Agh,” he moved to the side, freeing himself of her contact, “…don’t do that.” The ghost pursed her lips, but said nothing. “How long do I have to make my choice?”

She tilted her head to the side and her curly spectral locks bobbed gently from the motion, “How long do you need to decide how much your life is worth to you, Mortal?” He made no move to answer her and the spirit sighed, “As long as you need, assuming you don’t run out of air. Simply rub the stone and think of my name when you’ve made your decision… I will come to you.”

He nodded slowly and watched as the ghost disappeared before his eyes. When she had gone completely the man sank to the ground, back still resting against the stone door, “Fine mess I’m in now.”

Whisper and her Cage

It’s just a small thing, really, but.. the little gem brought into my life this year… ‘Whisper’ I’ve named her.. Well, she’s now slept two nights outside of her cage without waking me prematurely and without making a mess. =)

Whisper:

Irony at its Finest

So this is probably just me being whiny, but really… The day after I write a song and feel so good and so comfortable with where I am the financial crunch hits in again and suddenly I’m the one freaking out about my current place in life.

It was a simple miscalculation on my part. A single bill I forgot to plug in when I worked my monthly budget. Good thing I’d left myself about the same amount in leeway, right? Sure. Would have squeaked by, but the guys who did my lawn two weeks came back this week even though we specifically said I wouldn’t be on a regular schedule. I admit to having said I would probably want them to come back in about two weeks, but I also said I’d be in touch around then.

Well they cut the lawn. There’s an expense I wasn’t counting on, and that on top of my forgotten bill (so stupid of me, by the way) just plain sucks. So here’s to another week of living to the penny. =(

I’ll stop whining now since I don’t want to go into more detail about the other expenses involved in my daily life. Just, ugh. Even when I finally make it over the hill of this damned paycheck-to-paycheck living I’m probably going to be too paranoid to really even relax for the first three or four pay cycles at least. Anyways, I said I was done whining, so I’m done. I’ll post something more positive next time, promise.

Bring Me Home

Another song. This one I have a tune in my head for. I’ll try not to lose it before I have access to a microphone so I can record it and later turn it into an audio file. My prince charming will probably love the irony in that I wrote this one for him and it’s a country melody in my head (not his favorite genre by a long stretch). Ha. What can I say, I’m at my muse’s mercy.

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Bring Me Home
^{For M}

Long tendrils of evening damp the sun in the sky, /
And soon we’ll be dreaming while time passes by, /
But you wreathed in moonlight sure is a sight to see, /
And that smile on your lips that’s reserved just for me… /

You bring me home / When the nights grow long /
You guide my way / In the worst of days /
You carry me / With a simple song /
Oh baby / You bring me home /

So here I come to join you in the evening /
You won’t have to wonder if I’m leaving /
I am yours for better and for worse, Dear /
We made that vow / Wouldn’t change it now /
You bring me home /

And through the years / we’ve shared the sunrise, /
And whispered fears / Beneath the blue skies, /
We both have seen / So many places /
We’d love to be / With God’s good graces /

But you’re the only one my heart ever belonged to /
Never gonna lose that, couldn’t even long to /
Share another’s arms in the depths of twilight /
How could I? / How could I? /
Not when I have you /

You bring me home / When the nights grow long /
You guide my way / In the worst of days /
You carry me / With a simple song /
Oh baby / You bring me home /

Now we’ve shared the hard times along with the good /
We’ve both had our feelings be misunderstood /
So looking back on this road at where we have been /
Don’t you feel accomplished for all that we’ve seen /

Let me just thank you / For all you do /
No other soul / Loved me so true /
You’ve changed my life / And you’ve changed my ways /
Oh baby / We’ll see better days /

I know you’re worried, this economy can’t help that /
Just keep believing we can overcome that /
You’re the one, you’re my ever-loving soulmate /
I promise too, / Anything I do /
It’s all for you /

So bring me home / In the night so long /
And guide my way / In these trying days /
And carry me / With your sweet, sweet song /
Oh baby / I’m coming home /

By: Kathleen d’Tiers
-–Written 10/20/2010

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Enjoy. =)

Someone Died Today

I heard about the passing of an individual in more detail than I would have cared today. The man was a well-established individual in a profession which is dedicated to the betterment of the lives of others. He had a long career in which he likely impacted many lives. He was younger than my father and mother. His passing was sudden, a result of a heart attack or stroke occurring at a most inopportune time.

What bothered me though is that I know of the man only from passing reference in the office. I knew nothing about him until today except for the things one can infer from his career choice. What I know of him now? The precise circumstances and conditions of his passing. Open conversation.

I don’t think poorly of my coworkers though, for death has always been something which I’ve felt and observed others feeling a morbid curiosity about. Who died? How? When? How old? What were they doing?

It’s normal to wonder. And it’s normal to know when the questions are asked. Just, sometimes I wish it wasn’t. Ah well, such is life.