In Flux ep04 : Shadows of Esteren

08/04/2013
In Flux
Episode Four
"Donan's Journal - Opportunity"

My name is Donan Roik.
I am an Investigator.
After the exhausting events in Reizh, we decide to go to the southern most point of Toil Carea, Deanagh.  We heard there are people who understand Old Magic there.  I notice Rashid seems to figdet with his things often. Almost makes me wonder if he's hiding something among his things.  (Like that thrice-damned book, for instance.)  The scenic paths change as we journey, with trees becoming stranger and the sky being darker.  I admittedly feel apprehensive.  In this journey, had I been forced to travel alone, I would probably have not survived.  But the Varigals definitely manage the journey well.  And Glenn seems to prove extremely useful given his obsession with food and its preparation.  We do not have even a single night where we go hungry.

[There is the concern of my other appetite.  I've come to a realization that the group I accompany would best not be the target of my sexual wiles given the complications that are sure to arise if I were to ever allow one to feel more favor than the other.   Thankfully, my own skills with the hands combined with tying my own arm tight enough to induce a loss of sensation enough to seem like it was someone else's hand makes things much more... acceptable.]

It was during the first month of camping when I wrote this entry.
Rashid seems to have restless nights.  I opt not to ask what's wrong, but he seems to be bothered by something.   We soon travel to what I am told is the Sighing Forest.  Foraging gets harder as we arrive here, with the woods being less kind to non-wildlife.   We see a small village that might be a place we can consider visiting.  I feel the urge to get the flesh going.  The nearby village means other people.  Other people means opportunities.

"It is a trapper colony," Niall explains as we approach it.
"Are they educated?" I ask, remembering that horrible place that should not be named.
"Are you?" Rashid rebuts.

We squabble on the path on whether or not to go.  Someone at the village sees us, and greet us. I send Glenn to say hello.  They talk about having a wonderful harvest.

"I think its a safe place, Glenn found his people," I mused, remembering how the lumbering giant seemed to be so obsessed with preparing meals and handling groceries.

"Many Feonds about," the man at the gates mutters when we comment on the village's high walls.
"How come he gets to say it?" I ask aloud, impressed.  I guess Feonds is different from Feondas.

The tell us the place is the "Town of the Sighing Woods." They sell furs.   The man, I think, is named Tashvili.  And his kindness is a welcome treat given the horrid people we've met before. Kindness however quickly spirals into unexpected casuality as he starts openly asking me about having "an itch."  The nerve of this man to read into my actions that way.  I feel antisocial.  I talk about wanting to burn an illiterate person once a week.  He asks what illiterate means.   Odd, given he claims their town has only three books of import.  How can one know about books and not know about literacy.  The owner of the books.  Now maybe there in lies the answer.

The hamlet probably has around sixty people.  A small sample size of people.  Here's hoping at least one of them is worth bedding.  Amusingly, Niall mutters to himself, "I could use normal." I admit I couldn't agree more.

Niall offers his belief we cannot outrun winter.   He recommends we stay in til it passes. I admit I rather hear from Rashid.  Rashid, after all, has time and time again shown greater competency in journeyman skills.  Rashid admits any delays would leave us in the cold.  With that, it is settled.  I know I can trust Niall, on the other hand, to handle any threats and danger.

Maurice, a school teacher, owns the books.  He seems to be in charge of the place too, but that might just be because people by nature do then to shift towards the smarter person, so long as that smarter person is also the more social one. Maurice just arrived three, or four, years ago. He is in his 40s.  Had a wife and kid.  But supposedly they have already died.  (I will never openly admit it, but to have one's own child die before you do... that is just horrific.)  Rumored to be one of the "robey" people in the past, but lost his family as punishment from Sustraine.   I will always question this religion which seems so intent in raising itself above all others, then punishing those who seek to free themselves from its chains.

Tashvili's daughter, as it turns out, can read.  She's supposed to be 18 winters old.  Given Tashvili is 29, he probably adopted her from a family that died.  His wife likes to knit.   We are brought to the only Tavern in the city, which he owns, and he offers us the floor to sleep in.  They clear the area each night for those who will sleep.  The drinking, it seems happens during the day.  Different.  Simple but fine.

He also shows us a bright red barn.  He was able to get the one can of paint when the merchant came. Did I stress how odd I find it that they only drink during the day.  I head out and wander to look around the town.  Everyone else I see is a woman.   I presume it is because the men are out hunting.   I focus first on getting to know the location, that way if trouble happens I know my way around.  I note which places are closest to the hamlet's gates, and which places have nooks or crannies where I could theoretically hide in.

I start meeting the women after becoming confident enough about knowing my way around the hamlet.  Then I narrow my focus to a widow named Pauline.  She is childless and has been a widow for around eight years.   She is 24 years old.  A sixteen-winter old bride.  That must have been one very lucky man.  But then again I am luckier I guess, given he's dead and I am here to meet her.

I start charming my way into the women's hears, using Pauline's loss as a reason that each and every wife should do their best to care for their husbands better.  I tell them of the harshness of the wild and how making sure each of them are welcomed home well will make the exhaustion and loneliness fade away faster.  The women are swayed easily, and many start asking me to stay longer.  To share more stories.  I weave a fictional one about a varigal saving my life when I was trapped by a charging bear.  "Perhaps tonight," I tell Pauline, "If you will let me have the honor:  I can be your husband's presence to end your loneliness.  We need not do anything.  I just feel he would have wanted you to feel a warmth close by."

I spend the night with her.

I can only wonder what the others are doing at the tavern.  They are probably chatting with Tashvili's daughter.  Or debating over the events of the previous night.  Or worse, some argument over whether or not the strange book was important.

Morning comes.

I write a poem for Pauline, and hope it perhaps inspires her to learn to read.  I take a fruit from her table to eat as I walk back to the tavern.  It is empty.  Save, of course, for Tashvili.  He teases me about having... relations, but I deflect it and claim it was foot massage.  I tease his curiosity on it, and in the end offer to give him one.  I give him a great one, causing him to scream just as loud as Pauline did.  Pleasure can be given in many ways, after all.  I'll leave them all wondering.

Rashid returns and catches me and the guy panting and tired.  Rashid just judgingly stares at me.   I smile.

Three days later, we meet the literate Maurice.  Small talk peppers the discussions, but I quickly push for the topic of the books.  As it turns out, he owns the following books:  Plants and its environs, How to Cook, and Minerals and Flux.  He turns out to be the school teacher in the hamlet now.   I urge him to share more about himself, and start by asking indirectly.  I ask about the last Feonds attack and he admits it was ten years ago.  From there, it is easy to pull him to share more about his life.  He admits he was once a missionary.  But he has left the order to become a teacher here instead.  He suggests that his wife and daughter's deaths were lessons Sustraine had given him for leaving.  I feel tempted to remind him that such otherworldly forces cannot dominate our lives.  But I inwardly hold my tongue.   Maurice however asks us to clear something for him.  He does not believe the Feonds are always active, that it takes a few years between their attacks, and think if they are quiescent, then they can be killed.  He wants us to help prove this theorem of his, and offers to give us something which in his words proves why, "you need to take Sustraine seriously" at times.  I try not to scoff.  Niall, however, does seem curious.

He draws out a key and a chest.  As it is opened, there is a glint of brightness within.  It is a cudgel made of lead, and yet there are glints of another metal.

I learn the chest is from Gwidre, where reputedly holy people are from.

I throw deception away and ask directly about the Book.

"That book.  Every worshipper and priest knows of that book. The Lost Book," he explains.  He talks about how when Sustraine came, as the legends say, he taught people everything save for the contents of the Book.  The Book contained lessons that we were not meant to learn.  But someone read it and took it away.  He shares how the feonds are "the punished".  They are the ones who read the book but failed its test.

I ask him directly why he knows so much of the book.

"I know of the book because I want to know what could have made those things that killed my family."

The drive he feels is undeniable.  I feel there is much to benefit from in taking this task.   The lair he speaks off is inside the forest, and even the hunters are wary of that place.  One of them is always deeply injured whenever they visit that locale.   Not wanting to be seen as the one in charge, I throw Niall the decision and leave.  But I already know how he will respond.  I know he will take the box and the blessed weapon.

I know this means I will get a chance to see these Feonds face-to-face.

I spend a day teaching Glenn to groom.   The poor man is a mountain of mess.  I show him how to trim his hair, and how to shave his beard to a more respectable level.  Thankfully I confirm he knows how to maintain a level of hygiene.  It could have been much worse.

The signs of the first snowfall come.
The hunters return home, with large furs, animal carcasses that have been recently skinned, or even salted.  I notice how a group approaches not their wives, but Maurice.  I read easily from their body language and facial expressions how disappointed they are.    I suspect they were given the same task we were offered.  A Feonds lair.  Deep down, I must admit, I feel a rush of excitement to see it.

Donan

In Flux ep03 : Shadows of Esteren

06/30/2013
In Flux
Episode Three
"Donan's Journal - I Want The World of Stupidity To Die"

My name is Donan Roik.
I am an Investigator.

But it seems outside my usual region, suddenly my official documents of occupation do not apply.  I would have understood that more had I crossed the sea, or flown over the mountains to a whole new continent, but no, all I did was trek with the Varigals.  But I guess there are certain documents that would allow a lowly Investigator from Osta-Baille, Taol-Kaer's captical city to be recognized in a lowly town such as Hassam.  Or at least that's what I recall the name to be.

I digress.  Let me start from the beginning.

We had left Osta-Baille, after the Doyen hires me to learn the truth regarding the matter of the Feondas.  And the strange stories both Rashid and the other Varigal, Niall, have been involved in.    I would rather ignore it all, but I was given carte blanche on all costs, and I could always enjoy a few more notebooks, rare inks and a chance to travel even further.  I've been to Reizh once before, a small inn called the Watery Trunk.  That was a memorable, though brief experience (Alcohol addled most of my recollection, but given I awoke with nary a cloth to wear, I must assume it was majestic.)

But Hassam.  Or was it Hassom.  Oh this place is one I would so desperately desire to burn.    Rashid's journeyman skills proved to be the better between the two, and as we traveled I found myself having to sate myself with my own two hands (and a dab of oil).  Though my travelling companions seem adequate, I understood enough the delicate balance of respect that still existed between each of us.  I did not become an Investigator for nothing after all.    Trees grew sparse as we went further, and I pondered on whether this was another sign of the nature of Flux and how it.. smothered the land.  The overgrowth was soon replaced by roads of brick and the accuracy of the rocks in cut and fit clearly suggested I had returned to a civilized place from the long sojourn between wild woods.   As we approached the town, it quickly became apparent that the lights illuminating the town were not flickering.  Magience was clearly a welcomed commodity here.  And rather than a tavern being a noted location upon arrival, we found ourselves seeing a school. 

Knowledgeable folk?  Literate ones?  Even better.  There wouldn't be a need to play any charade.  A show of papers would suffice.  The Dancing Dove was the label of one locale and I quickly discerned it was the sordid kind of inn where people drank to be laid.  The Traveler's Inn was the second.  Given the smell of Flux in the air, the urge to get indoors was an intention we all shared.    It seemed like a happy community, with people having no fear of laughing out loud.  The colors hinted by the lights seemed to suggest a class status, with the colors shifting from greenish to bluish to yellowish and finally clear white.  We all go to the Inn and I allow the others to charter a room.  I spend a good time studying the people, grasping their mannerisms, noting how they approach others, their tone and voice, I even take an effort to spy how the "richer" or more "respected" are approached by others.  As the others first debate about the costs of staying in the stable, they eventually decide to get a room. Niall purchases some kind of cartridge for his Lighter.  I've slowly started to get a better grasp of how these magience devices work, but I still find it appalling to own one.  Memories from the previous trip, I suppose.  The innkeeper makes a good point to insult the varigals, making a stress about not caring about their charter.  "Everythin is Reizh is discovered," the man boldly says.  And I recall my teachers telling me the first clear sign of ineptitude and voluntary stupidity is the belief that one has learned all there is.

Worse, I recall varigals being messengers and guides.  Not spelunkers.  I wonder if that was what the innkeeper thought they were.

I approach, holding myself the way the esteemed in the place do.  I identify myself as an Investigator, admit I am fulfilling a task, and ask for some level of discretion regarding the presence of the group that earlier checked in.  The innkeeper, due to some logical leap I cannot grasp even until now, deems me a con-man, has his flunkies manhandle me as they accuse me of trying to outsmart them.  And worse, when my official documents of being an Investigator are shown, including the letter from the Doyen of the Varigals, and the letter from the noble Cormarel, the man laughs about them not meaning anything here in Reizh.

It challenges my sanity, I tell you.  The man was such an idiot.  Even worse than the Kethis.  The fight is short-lived and I am thrown out with a bloody nose and all.  To the least, I feel satisfied in knowing that the others will be safe (unless the stupid innkeeper himself starts another fight) since the owner of the place they are staying in is capable of fighting.  But given my disheveled appearance (I guess in the Traveler's Inn, it is customary to insult messengers, attack clientele and threaten those who carry themselves with noble/respectable bearing) I decided to make my way instead to the Dancing Dove to earn myself some loving.   Given the school's prominence in this place, I now fear what manner of education the whole town benefits from.

The Dancing Dove is atrocious.  The women dance on long poles.  Glowing lights glimmer in the night.  Even the jewelry the women wear illuminates as they move.  It is a spectacle, beautiful perhaps to most, but given my taste of Flux in the far north, all I could think of was how all these people were acting in such baser mannerisms due to their exposure to the Flux itself.  Remembering how Liam and his wife Gilana were when Flux poisoned her and I shudder at the thought I stood in a room filled with similarly tainted people.  It does not help that most of those who seem drawn to me are either far too young, too boring, too desperate, or act like two-dimensional attempts at attempting to be a predator given their lack of actual experience.  Thankfully, I find a fellow predator in the midst and he returns my hints with a smile.  I remind him I am not here for pleasure and he admits how, "It would have been interesting to have played the investigator and the investigated."  The line reminds me of Rashid, who would have said, "Role-playing costs extra" so I end up smirking.  Needing to explain the smirk, I just say aloud, "I don't do that."

But we enjoy our time.  I fulfill his expectations and cross a few more lines he'll tomorrow regret so much that feel nicely patched up in all ways.  I do wonder when he will realize I got him so overwhelmed he was calling out his own name, "Davon" over and over as I toyed with his buttons.  A Vitalist Magientist.  That name goes into my notebook.  Never know when I will need to speak to one again.

I return to the others, contemplate on burning the Traveler's Inn down, but decide the innkeeper can be made to suffer in other means at a later date.  If anything, Donan never forgets a face.  Or a name. Rashid shares how he does not like roads.  "Too perfect," he admits.

I don't like roads that lead you barbarians.

27 days pass and we reach Baldh-Ruoch.  The city was enormous, with so much presence of magience that I felt literally ill.  Pillars of smoke rose from many towers.  I questioned how wealthy we were at Osta-Baille.  We easily gain entry (and I think the burly guard even tries to throw me a flirtatious line) and we find a good place to set camp.  Or rest for the night.  Glenn and I talk about food and I always ponder on whether or not this huge man was once born a woman.  His dedication to preparing our stores and wares is just... so much like a domesticated wife.   I ask about Circe.  About Kethis.  And in the end, we realize we all share one truth in common: we fear her.   I still feel tempted to do something to Hassam.  Purchase the whole town or something.  Have it transformed to a park.  With a few choice words, I know I can convince people that it has been over-ridden by Feondas or something.  But I guess deep down I'm not as evil as I wish I could be.

I notice a hawk flying in the sky.  Someone must have sent for messages and thought the varigal took too long.  So much financial options to abuse.

Abuse. I must do that more often soon.

We map out the need to find the Master Proval.  He was, or perhaps is, the Dean of the Vitalists. The man supposedly has not been in touch for a long time.  The messenger also delivers a green bottle as a gift to Rashid from the Tarish.  Interestingly, the green hue matches the artwork in the book I had been handed by the Doyen.  Niall is visibly unnerved by the book and refuses to even touch it.

"There is coin to be had in Raizh," someone remarked, and all I recall is Glenn excitedly replying, "Corn?"  Niall and I remain aghast.  Glenn has such a powerful mother-instinct, he probably can get pregnant with the right motivation.

Niall chooses to stay in the other room with Glenn.  Rashid is forced to share my room.  Or at least I think that was the decision.  There's a visitor the Varigals seem to know and uninterested I allow them to handle things.  I pull out the book and study it.  The iconography on the cover is similar to the Temple Gilana worshiped at.  The Temple of Soustraine.  But reversed.    I admit to the others that I feel the problems that once plagued Naill now affect us all.  Glenn reaches to tap my shoulder and say something, but I grab his hand and remind him I do not like being touched.

I opened the book.  The first two pages are blank.  "We got into something deep, didn't we," I muse aloud.  "We?" Rashid asks.  "Oh, does we cost extra now?" I hiss back.  "Demon books cost extra," Rashid clarifies.

The green bottle seems to resemble the green hues in one of the art as well.  Deep down, I trust my gut and recommend to Rashid to drink the contents of the bottle.  He eventually obeys (they all do) and his eyes suddenly glow extremely bright.  I call out for the others and start gathering in Glenn's cup the green fluid that begins to leak out of Rashid's body.  Niall, worried to the highest of mountains, draws his crossbow.  Glenn readies his cudgel.  Rashid later explains he was seeing the events of the memories he had lost unfolding in his mind.  Some kind of fluid had been injected into his arm.  But even as the long-armed vitalist attacked Rashid, he survived the encounter thanks to...

Kethis.

The Kethis appeared, attacked Rashid's attacker, and seemed to even be in pain as it did so.

Of course, there was only one expected way Rashid would react to all this:  "The Charter has been violated."

The lady friend of Rashid and Niall breaks into the room, panicked and all.   She speaks about defending her people and warns us not to do anything stupid.  (I hold my tongue and opt NOT to remind her she broke into my room.) Niall keeps the crossbrow trained at her, until she shows she is unarmed.    I decide to step out and leave the varigal to discuss these matters between them.  Glenn and I just stay outside.  But eventually, I decide I've had enough stress, and invite Glenn to join me for a night of de-stressing and wenching.  Niall opts to join us.

I realize however Rashid may opt to leave, so I "hire" him to bring me to Porval.  If anything, I am happy that Rashid can be that simple to handle things with.  Niall, I hire, until he reclaims the book.  Or I die.  I almost internally die with that statement.  I sound so much like a folktale villain.  Maybe I should grow warts on my nose too.

We return, with Glenn drunk. Neil and I laughing about him not charming the city girls well. Too preoccupied over milk, bread, recipes and cows.  I drunkenly awaken to Niall coming up to my bed and placing the odd book on my lap.  He walks away.  Then returns and throws another book.  And another.  I probably was just imagining things and drift back to sleep.

Breakfast.  The meal goes well and Niall looks bothered.  I try asking him about last night but he doesn't answer.  We finally make our way to Proval, who as it turns out, was expecting us.  Mayla informed him that we were coming.  During our visit, a golden needle of some sort launches into the room from outside, but Proval casually blocks it from hitting him.  This happened the moment I inquired about the Flux.  Porval tells us this has been happening, and his body begins to "shrink" as his massive original six foot four frame withdraws to barely six feet.  He reveals a hidden passageway for us to take to continue our conversation.  I peer out the window, flashing the golden needle in my hand, and try to spot the attacker.  Finding none, I slide the needle into my clothes to keep it safe.

We make our way down the passageway and I start sharing what I know of the events that have transpired.  Porval soon reveals that he is related to Gilana and Cormarel.  And that Cormarel was once a Demorthein apprentice.    For Proval, however, science comes before anything.  He does not believe in our concerns about monsters and curses, and even claims that Cormarel is a paranoid sort, but shifts gears the moment the book is mentioned.  I bring the book out for them to see.  Oddily to the others, they can see something else in the first two pages.  For me they remain blank.    Frustrated, I start saying the word Feondas.  I even state it twice to threaten Porval to talk.  After all, if he truly does NOT believe in them, there's no harm in stating the word right?   He counters by saying Kethis twice.  The book's temperature drops.

I personally am now confused if Porval is truly a man of science.  Or a man hiding his fear through science.  I confirm if Niall has his crossbow ready (It is).  I confirm if Rashid recalls the way out (He does.)  I feel so tempted to say the word one last time.  I am sick and tired of these.. things.  So exhausted with being hounded by some supernatural mystery I cannot fathom.  When Niall admits something to the extent of the book supposedly "talking" to him, I throw the book at him out of anger.  Porval tries to claim he feels the whole thing is a politically motivated act.    Niall refuses to keep the book and throws it at Porval.  "My duty is done," I tell Porval," and remind him to reach out to his sisters.  Their problems have been making all of our lives hell.   I ask Master Rashid to escort me to the city limits.  I tell them the job is done.

Outside, I soon learn the others are thinking of heading off as well.  In some cases, by calling it all off, the group has still decided to travel together.    Rashid writes a letter to Mayla to bring to someone and I cannot be bothered to find out what it is about.  I just feel tired about it all.    When we set up camp outside, amusingly I catch Rashid burning something in the fire.    It turns out to be the damned book.  Somehow it followed him  to us.    He opens it to the first page.

I avert my eyes.  But somehow I can imagine it might say something as pitifully frustrating as, "You called."

The book seems to target literate people.  That seems to be the closest pattern I can find.

Neil seems to have a fitful dream.
But I leave him to sleep.

I am still dreaming of how to make Hassam burn.
Maybe, I should visit there again, and say that blasted word from noon until midnight.

But that inkeeper.
Oh, if I ever see him again.

Just you wait.

Donan

In Flux e02 : Shadows of Esteren

04/28/2013
In Flux
Episode Two
"Donan's Journal - Trapped between a child and a hard place"

My name is Donan Roik.
I am an Investigator.

And recent events have made me realize that the world hides more frightening things in the light than in the shadows.  Oh where to begin.    My trip to the North was definitely not a smooth one.  And as I mentioned in my earlier entry, some conspiracy concerning a Northerner named Liam and his wife-to-be Gilana have pulled me into its web.  Even worse, Liam's brother, one of the Demorthen clearly showed a lack of trust towards me - which while I was used to, was definitely something that would be listed in the book of "Things that may lead to Donan's demise."  And then there was Rashid, whom like myself was tangled in the threads, but unlike me had every capacity to survive if he ever had to escape into the woods.

Dire potents indeed, oh Donan.

So, I offered a plan which I felt was fool-proof enough:  Liam and Gilana were to "expose me" to the town as having been captured for conspiracy against the lovely woman.  And they were to "kill" me before the gathered crowd.  An act, of course, which I was more than ready to portray.  And a body to be switched later with one of the corpses in whatever constitutes in this place as the city tomb.  Or catacomb.  Oh the North.  Why do you lack such common city comforts?

And as quickly as my educated mind has produced such a wonderful plan do these Northern savages disassemble it with their own choice of action:  a secret wedding.  Gilana opts to marry Liam in a secret ceremony.  And Rashid and I were to be the witnesses.  Of course, I have no choice but to agree.  Anything to settle this Northern journey as soon as possible was an option in my book.

The following night begins with Liam.. oh darn, his Lordship Liam and the Lady Gilana entertaining guests.  Liam, Rashid and I discuss the strange scent that Rashid seems to emit upon contact with me.  (On a side note:  Rashid's eyes betray an unspoken concern.  He looks at me with the eyes of someone who has either witnessed some atrocity such as a child cutting herself, or of me visiting him in his bed once again.  Knowing the Varigal, however, he would have probably held me down and tied me up if I had.)  I ponder on what could be causing this smell to emit, and find myself wishing I understood more matters of Science, Magience and Faith.

While Rashid and I share our thoughts on what the bride Gilana was going through, we can hear dogs barking in the distance.  A glance reveals the dogs agitated around the vicinity of the temples.  I admit to Rashid quickly that we had kissed prior to our leaving Osta-Baille.  But I confess that despite my typically ravenous appetite, I turned down his advances. I am one to recognize the drunken stupor of another, or the desire of a drug-addled puppet.  Rashid was clearly not approaching me out of want.  The dogs do not stop and as I peek once again, I see a man running from the temple, partly dressed in the manner of the priests.  His pace, however, distinctly captures how I have run many times from husbands and aghast wives.  Perhaps the man was searching for treasure and instead found priestly jewels in his hands.  (Come to think of it, I have never had a priest as of yet.)

Enough.  To stay in this crazy place is to invite the Feondas into my bed.  I suggest to Rashid that it be best we leave, and ask him if he would escort me back.  He reminds me he does not work for me however, and I realize I might have to juggle things around to safely find my way home.    I visit the newly weds once again to say my goodbyes - clearly my plans are no longer in action, so when the mind's stratagem falls apart, the body best make a move at once.  Gilana, unfortunately finds it fit to throw me a lashing of her understanding of Faith, truth, and the world.  I simply explain that for me, truth is the search for answers and faith is belief despite the absence of answers.  The ultimate goal of truth would be the destruction of the need for faith, and the eventual destruction of the temple.   Clearly, however, Gilana desires to regain some sense of control given the events that surround her perfect little world.  So I've decided to feign my being silenced by her words and give her that victory.

A tavern.  A good stout drink would be perfect.  Rasid and I head to the nearest place and find two others who stand out like sore thumbs.  (There's a certain look these Northerners carry, that much I can tell.)  We introduce ourselves to the two and learn of their names:  Glenn is the giant of a man whose wrist seems thicker than my thigh.  I can only wonder about any other proportions in secret.  His companion, Niall, seems to carry that Varigal look to him.  It takes me but a second to recognize him as the man running from the temple.  I throw pleasantries around, discussing women and how a crossbow was used in an assassination attempt (All right, I confess I did gander a few attempts to learn Glenn's actual shoe size) and inform the two that I have been exiled and work my magic to convince the barkeep to throw in a free round for all.  Rashid, ever the fun defecator, confronts Niall about his membership among the Varigal as he makes a huge point about the man hiding his walking stick.  Or staff.  Or whatever that Varigal tool happens to be.  Niall seems perturbed by this, and commits to leaving with Glenn in tow.  But as he throws the barkeep a Frost to pay for their own drinks, I catch the coin and pocket it.  Hey, the barkeep DID offer to pay a free round to all, after all.

My thoughts harken back for a moment on Liam and his new bride.   She probably would be telling him all her actions were just to test him.  Women.  Sometimes, you cannot help but wonder if they are the thing we fear and call the Feondas.

The journey is longer.  And given neither Varigal are actually paid by me (to quote Niall, "We just happen to be taking the same route"), I am thankful that my noisy wet antics with both fruit and fauna distract them all from the fact that they have been sharing me their secret roads for free.  

Okay, I lie.  I always wanted to try raping a melon.  I wasn't aware the seeds would make it feel so... exotically sticky.

We return to Osta-Baille quite safely.  Knowing my return would probably once again be the target of some machinations, perhaps by whathername Corrie herself, I decided to keep my pants packed and instead come as a woman.  Note to self:  the three did not raise curiosity or concern at my comfort for cross-dressing.  They should be companions for future journeys.

Of course, the two Varigal head straight to the Charter House to settle their issues.  And while there, I decide to try sell some information.  Of course, this old crone of a woman sasses me up and questions my authenticity.  I try a misdirect, a sway, and she seems to catch my every twist.  Someone refers to her as the Doyen, and I realize she's probably someone of a certain position among these rangers.  I suggest there is a growing danger in the North, and she questions if my information is true.  Thankfully Rashid is nearby enough to confirm that I was recently up north.  Gaining her attention, however, he slides the discussion instead towards Naill's act of hiding his walking stick.  And when the Doyen's questions fail to gain the answers she hopes for, I remind her she can always hire an Investigator for answers.

I catch Niall's expression and clearly see he wishes someone could pull him out of the issue.  I throw him back his own Frost and declare my thanks for bringing me safely back from the North.  When the Doyen attempts to hire me now for the truth, I tell her first that everything she has heard is a lie for I am no woman, second is that the two were never hired but instead merely traveled with me on the same road, and that any other information desired will now have to be paid for with full rates.  "Find me," I told her and walked out.

While I admit I doubt the old hag would realize I just questioned her capacity to grasp facts, I still personally feel I got my revenge.  I leave the Varigal with the Doyen to discuss things on their own, and sadly, from this point on my life takes a far less preferred road.

She is barely two winters old, based on her appearance.  But her eyes seem far older and her arrogance even more so.  The child somehow, walks up to me, and grabs my arm even before I notice her approach.  Fine, I was talking to the hulking mountain Glenn, but this child not only got close to me... she TOUCHED me before I could sense her.  That is impossible.  Simply impossible.  That is beyond natural.

I panic.  I pull away with a lot of screaming and panic.  Glenn chases after me, as he tries to explain why this thing refers to him as her Uncle.  But as we stop half a block away to discuss things, a pebble falls onto my shoulder.  I look up and see the same child sitting on the rooftop above me.  The SAME child.  This is not possible.  Not natural.

I draw my battle axe out of utter fear.  I yell at Glenn to stay away from me.  And the guards of Osta-Baille, in their infinite wisdom, approach me and question why a woman would draw an axe within the city's confines, rather than imagine a woman would draw a weapon out of utter fear of this giant of a man that is reaching for her.  The guards follow me.  I keep walking.  Anywhere I can get away from this.. this thing...

The guards.  These inept, stupid, uneducated, arrogant and illiterate men.  They accost me a few blocks away and ask more dumb questions.  Not in the mood to answer, I just tell them to take the damned weapon.  One offers to give some form of receipt for me to retake the weapon, but knowing that would probably entangle me more under whatever bureaucratic unwritten threads they can think of, I tell them to just keep it.  (I can always find a way to take a new one.)

The child returns.  This time, however, my angers gets the better of me.  Rather than run, I stand and do what I do best.  Learn.  I hide my observances under a guise of panic and chatter.  I draw out that she is called  Kethis and get her to talk about the world not being in balance, and that their kind exist to bring back that balance.  Now I am no fool.  I know the difference between balance and justice.  Balance is giving everyone, regardless of their size and appetites a single loaf of bread to eat.  Some get sated, some remain starving, and some never eat bread and it goes to waste.  Balance is not what the world needs.   Justice, perhaps more.   I tell it I care nothing about the world.  I care only about my life.  "The world may fall for all I want."  I ask Kethis what if I worked for those it was against and it admits I do not even know who those are.  "In the end," she reminds me, "There will always be more Kethis."

I can only wonder what happens when Niall and Rashid speak with Glenn.  He would probably tell them that his niece was in town.  Niall would probably suggest she speak with Rashid, thinking Rashid's antisocial nature would drive her away.

I decide to deal with something instead that I can understand.  Cormarel owes me answers.  I change my clothes and pretend to be a woman hoping to work as a maid. I easily convince the other helpers to let me in.  I notice the magience that illuminates the home and quickly discern that she has an alchemist.  I learn that the third floor is deemed off-limits.  I convince one of the maids to let me upstairs, and quietly maneuver myself to her bed chamber.  I learn she has a guest right now, but I cannot see who it is.  Instead, I feign having lost the "present Master Donan requested I deliver to the lady" and have the maid head back down to find it.  And I slide into her room, steal three new notebooks to add to my growing collection, and then strip off my clothes and lie on the bed.  Let's face it, it has been long enough since I had warm flesh between my skin.  Might as well hit two birds with one stone.

I eventually learn from the others that they were setting down to rest, after some protracted drama with the Doyen.  A glass bead of some sort dropped from one of their packs, and Rashid catches it melt into the ground.  When Glenn touches Rashid, the contact once again results in a strange emotional explosion from him.   Later that night, from where the oil bead fell, a hand emerged.  Niall awoke the others and faced some strange green man.  He claims he has been waiting for them, and makes mention of some kind of necklace as being the source of the bead.

Rashid loosed an arrow upon the figure, and green ichor spilled out.  Rashid muttered the word Feondas thrice and the green gathered into a marble.  Niall and Glenn rushed out, not wanting to confront it further, but it taunted Niall about how they were all friends and grew up together.  Rashid, however, plucked the bead from the ground and pocketed it.  And while Rashid suggested they stay at the guildhouse instead for safety, Niall countered that Glenn would not be allowed inside.

But yeah, let us go back to focus on the more important part of the narrative: me.  I throw my accusations towards Cormarel.  I admit I clearly failed to sleep with her, which Cormarel clarifies that I clearly failed to make her sister unholy.  I demand answers for two questions and the bitch relents.  On the question of where she stands if I tried to kill the Kethis, she admits that she would rather run.  I take note how she clearly was aware of the Kethis and never even bothered to ask how I knew of its existence.    On the second question, I ask if anything can be done to still shatter her sister's purity.  She claims it is too late and perhaps to drive me away, begins screaming for the guards to come.

I leave, switching my nudity with the priestly robes that Niall had worn and ditched during our journey back to Osta-Baille.  I can still recall her screams as I leapt from roof top to roof top.

The three had it lucky, as they found shelter in some inn and had a quiet night's sleep.  I, on the other hand, slept at the wet market among the baskets and old folded rags.   News of Cormarel's intruder spread in the city quite quickly, with the strange new fact about her hair having turned white out of utter fear.  That, admittedly, was a detail I was completely oblivious to.  Messengers had been sent to inform her family, but interestingly no Varigal were tasked to take the job.   With a few well chosen words, I gather some fruits for the day's hunger, and bless some family for their newborn child.  I suggest they name the child, "Kethis" claiming it means "The one blessed with balance."  As far as I see it, words have power, but only if their meaning remains what they want it to be.  So to fight these things, one thing I can do is make the meaning something i rather it was.

I see Glenn.  Here to gather supplies for a long journey, I approach him and offer to help him in his shopping.     He tells me of Niall's hopes of grabbing jobs that lead the furthest away from here, and unfortunately those jobs had been red-marked by the Doyen.  I eventually hear about how Rashid raises his frustration with the younger Vargial, and how the Doyen instead switches things about and has Rashid, who kept pushing for the traditions and customs of the Varigal to be maintained, ends up becoming assigned to follow instead Niall.  It probably is some kind of Varigal logical flow of thought that only makes sense if one has survived the wild as they do, cause I really didn't quite grasp it.  "Varigals lead, not follow," the Doyen supposedly told them - which makes me wonder why they have someone leading them in the first place.

When I finally meet the others once again, I learn about the Feondas, and about the strange emotional surges that seem to rise whenever Rashid is touched.  Some personal matter unfolds next, when Glenn's mother is brought to the scene by the Doyen - the matter they discuss concerns something and sadly the only thing I gathered was about the mother someone knowing how to block someone's scent.    I was more fascinated by the three stones that were at her throat area.  I wonder if they denote a rank of status or something.

Of course, the Doyen then turns to me and finally hires me.  She asks me to learn the truth of the matter, raising that these two varigal cannot be counted to report the truth.  I admit to partly being tempted to mutter, "But that's cause they aren't following you, they're leading their own paths," but I knew to say that would be to lose my opportunity of having them escort me safely again.   I remind the Doyen of my fees and she claims carte blanche on all the costs.  I would have liked to smile and embrace it as a blessing, but money not paid upfront tends to become money I never get paid in the end.

Sighs.

I receive a package.  Cormarel visits and her white-hair and older face seem to be true and not just some mix of wax and dye.  I stay in the crowd and leave the Doyen to speak with her, and soon am told that a brown package has been left for me.  Me specifically.  Inside, I find a tome.  Intricate knotwork in the front. Carving upon the cover.  There is an image of Gilana on the cover.  Her eyes are of amber.  Glenn looks bothered by the book and Niall wants to have nothing to do with it.

I wonder about its contents.  And I recall my talk with Gilana.
The truth reveals things.  Unveils faith.
Destroys temples.

The truth is not a kind thing.

And I've just been paid a lifetime of treasure to learns a truth that might stretch far back from a time even before I was even born.

I will get rid of that damned Kethis.  And I will get my revenge on that Cormarel for plunging me into such a crazy life.   And once both of those things are settled, I will pay Rashid, Glenn and Niall a lifetime worth of Frost to leave me alone and never bother me with their problems ever again.

And yes, I will make sure the Doyen foots the damned bill.


Donan

In Flux e01 : Shadows of Esteren

02/24/2013
In Flux
Episode One
"Donan's Journal - C and G and Eight"

My name is Donan Roik.
I am an Investigator.

And I am saying this at the start of my entry because I want to remember that is what I am.

I awoke to find myself naked (as usual) in some woman's home.  Cormarel I think her name is.  Cormirel?  Ah, I was never good with names.  I calmly leave the bed and find my Rebec.  I decide to play myself some music while I figure out what this woman wants from me.  Most women want something from me.  But this one.  She's clearly under the impression she's in charge.  I best let her keep that assumption.

She speaks of her twin sister.  Identical, she stresses, which clearly suggests she believes I am smitted by her appearance.  What is it with women who believe their beauty is that bewitching?  I don't see people obsessing over an apple, when there are melons, bananas, strawberries and grapes waiting to be tasted.  Why should women be different?  The sister's name is Gilana, or at least that's how it might be spelled.  She's a woman of Faith, it seems, which tends to mean her morals are far more important than her freedom.  And supposedly she is to be married to some man soon.  Cormereal (Gosh, that's what, my third attempt at her name now?) flatters me claiming I can teach her sister "true happiness" before her wedding night.  Clearly she's pulling on what she believes are my strings.  Even worse, I admit the prospect does interest me.  I haven't bedded a young woman of the Temple before.   She offers me two Frost as payment, but the daols don't truly interest me.  I urge the addition of a Notebook.  And one of her signature scents.  She relents.

A bit too quickly.  Hmm.

I can almost imagine it happening.  Somewhere in the vast distance, a young man is being told to do his familial duty.  He's probably brash, or barbaric.  Or maybe suave but more into men.  Regardless marrying is the least of his interests and now he has no choice but to do so.  I wonder if he even knows how to bathe.

Probably end up cutting himself or something while there.  Worse yet, with his dogs.

If I were a storyteller, I'd add the tale of one of the Varigals to the events.  Varigals were always the interesting sort.  I could not fathom having such courage, to travel between towns on one's own.  Without soap.  Or soft bedding.   But yes, I could imagine a Varigal... a foreigner to be more interesting perhaps receiving a job from the unlikeliest of sources.  Say perhaps a child.  (I was tempted to say a talking goat, but that might lure the Feondas upon me!)  He would probably be caught in events far greater than his liking. Glowing costs extra.  Humming costs extra.  But nothing matters if you can't talk your way out.  Or remember.

I just re-read my earlier entry.  I must have been sipping far too much wine the previous night.  What on this forsaken land did I just write! Oh well, at least this quill and ink were free.  I walked up to a shop before leaving and knowing how most merchants are aware notebooks are expensive things, held my new notebook just enough to suggest it was of some import.  I easily persuaded the shop owner to allow me to "test his quill and ink" and proclaimed them fit for selling.  I left with both before he could speak in his own defense.  People can be so easily spun around with the right words, the perfect timing, and the disarming smile.   The Varigal and Cormyel speak and I catch him reporting to her some message.  "They feed on Flux" are the words, and I jot them down in my memory for future use.  Too often, people let slip lines which prove to be their undoing.  I have learned never to ignore such resourceful gifts.  

While I traveled with my foreign Varigal, a dark skinned man who seemed one of the Tarish.  Rashid, I think his name was.  I felt he was just as frustrated about how Carmichel talked to him.  (Damn, what is her name really?) so I tried to reach out to him.  Offered him my Battle Axe as a show of how I was willing to place my life in his hands.  He simply informed me he does not use such weapons.  I don't think we quite connected.

The trip was long, but partly my fault.  The milk maid half a night from the town looked just ravishing.  I had to ravage her.  And the young farmer's boy a day from the destination looked delicate enough for my hunger.  We bathed in the nearby river afterwards.  Damn, I think I put on Cormariel's perfume instead.  Oh well, I can use it to claim she turned me down.  Perhaps that will gain the sister's favor.  Given her interests, I can imagine this Gilana would not approve of anything Corrie would.

Our arrival showed animosity in the air.  My eyes quickly caught the worried glances and the nervous looks. The man who welcomed us, his name was Liam, looked distraught and struggled to be accommodating.  His dogs perhaps smelled my quite gifted bone and seemed intent to attack.  I wondered if the man was indeed as barbaric as I imagined him, and easily visualized how he and Gilana would probably be at odds most of the time.  Man of the Wild to wed woman of the Temple?  You'd sooner see a cat rut with a dog if you ask me.   Liam's brother arrives.  Clearly one of the Demorthen.  I try to be courteous but he quickly dismisses me and drags the Varigal away to talk.  He mentions some contract between the Demorthen and the Varigals.  I don't recall ever hearing of such a thing.

As Liam and I walk down the corridor, I realize the dogs might not be angry at me per se.  Dogs, from what I've been told, are beasts born with their noses first.  Smell is everything.  While Liam spoke with his future bride-to-be, I slid my own personal perfume upon me and left a dab of Corrie's on the other side of the hallway.  The dogs attentions shifted to the hall, as I suspected.  My brain quickly began to consider truths.

Truths are the bread and butter of a man's words, you see.  Even the words he does not actually say.  That's why I always ask people I meet, "Are you married?" when I first find them fascinating.  The question disarms them, and immediately brands me a fop.  The misunderstood impression works to my favor, and leads them to display the tell-tale signs of how they lie.  "Yes," a woman would say, But I would catch how her throat shifts as she swallows her guilt, and her fingers fondle her neck unconsciously.    "Yes," the man would cry out, and while I ignore his passionate disgust at the thought of sparring fleshy swords, I easily see how his body speaks when he desires to make a truth spoken clear.

I wander off after speaking with a wounded Gilana, whose personality is far too much like her sister while she was riding me well.  This Gilana is by no means the woman of the Temple I was hired to "teach."

A fête.
Why they don't just call it dinner is beyond me.  Oh the terms used by barbarians and priests.    Dinner is served and Gilana addresses us all like a prepubescent virgin with an itchy fish between her thighs.  She swoons so often I feel insulted by her passions. All the gods (real and false) know how much I delight in the pursuit of fleshy flavors, but you don't see me throwing myself out there as if my hole demanded plugging.  She rises to dance and drags Liam to join him.  His reluctance is amusing.  I imagine he's the type to force a woman on all fours and take her from behind.  Just like how I take my men.  But then Liam's brother stars throwing disdain at my direction once more.  I begin to wonder how much of it is hate and how much is an act hoping to distract me from his true intentions.  He tries to convince Rashid to dance with me and I counter by inviting him to dance instead.  He feints my offer.  Frustrated, I splash Corrie's dog-luring scent upon his face.   Rashid joins me on the floor, and deep inside I weep for the Demorthen's lack of clarity.  I sense we are on the same side, but he has a point to prove.  So I decide to be the fool and bumble along.  Rashid and I dance, and for the briefest of moments, his appearance shifts.  Instead of a man, some horrid, rotting face emerges.  A festering corpse of some sort.  I remain calm and dance as if I noticed nothing odd.  I admit to Rashid that I sense we are being set up.  That I am the man made to be the murderer.  And that he to be framed as my accomplice.  There were later mentions of the terms Flux Poisoned.  Or Flux Thralled.  But damn it I failed to mark to memory why such things were mentions.  My attentions were distracted by the amusement of knowing the proud Demorthen was attacked by the dogs.

At least that cemented my suspicions on the perfume.

Later that eve, a private meeting. Liam has me and the Varigal Rashid summoned forth.  We discuss our truths and I easily make out the Demorthen's presence in the vicinity.  The burly man breathes far too loud.  Like a snoring goat.  As we discuss possibilities, I ask if the wound has been cleansed.  My brain has yet to grasp if Gilana's state of being is intentional or not, given her personality was caused by the shard of a Magience weapon left festering in the wound.  It seemed too clumsy a method to make her... an embarrassment to the temple.   (I know I would have just slipped some aphrodisiac into her food, then made sure the monks were audience to her loud fitful rutting with the barbarian groom.)  The wound in inspected and true enough a shard is retrieved.  Blue fluid oozes from the wound, and Gilana becomes the bitch we all expected her to be upon meeting her.

So far, my suspicions seem sound.  Corrie sent me to be the fall-guy, even if logic would clearly dictate a man who had just traveled days to get her could not have actually fired the bolt.  Worse even, I don't even know how to use such a device, nor weapon.   Remember, I use a battle axe.  I like having a big weapon.  Size tends to intimidate.  Even better when one knows how to use it.

Sorry.  I digressed there.  Had to relieve myself.  Forget I wrote that.  Going back, there is conspiracy afoot and I am being set to take the fall.  So it is best to give them what they want.  After all, that is what I do best.  I will take the blame.  We will have them murder me before the audience of monks and men.  And let's see who will benefit from the death of a fopish man with a beautifully played redec.

Damn.  I just realized.  Neither mountain man nor Varigal might have understood that I meant for them to FAKE my death.  I just might actually end up dead in the end!

Oh well, at least I slept with eight new people since my last entry.
And my last entry was barely a week ago.


Donan