|Rules and Guidelines|
|6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 of 48|
|Ringwe, 75 - Afternoon, hr 8|
Are these birds strong? Let's see!
Ha! It's not so tough! I can win!
Ouch! No! Bad bird!
My pants! Give them back! I need my pants!
These birds are mean!
|Khelek, 76 - Evening, hr 10|
Dreacon mated with me again today, but now I'm sure of it. I'm no longer able to have children. What will I do? How will the Kindred grow, as I wished? I must hope my own children do what they can. I place my best hopes with Dinova, with Miratine, with Salatius, with Celandel, with Estelanta, with Perintius, and with Luthien. And what, then, shall I do? Fade away?
|Kuile, 76 - Before dawn, hr 3|
The shack groaned, its voice so frog-low that even the wisest-eared fox couldn't have made it out. Seldom did it see visitors, having been born so long ago and forgotten. A spout of dust sneezed itself from the shacks eaves in the dew-cool morning breeze. The sky was blue and not-pink; the sun wouldn't be awake for hours, and the shack was sad that it had to wake in this night-chill, wooden bones all creak and croak.
Three of the Them, standing, talking. Two it recognized. One of the Them was much older than it had recalled, but whitepuff hair was whitepuff hair. The other Them was different, voice baritone and short. The Them it knew sang-talked, one then the other. They leaned upon the cold wooden wall-guts and the shack sighed. It was happy.
The new-Them talked-sang its frog-high voice and then all three Them were quiet. The whitepuff hair trembled; the shack could feel it in its inside-skin. Then the whitepuff was gone.
Outside, the breeze trembled and he could see whitepuff hop-float in its crooked way, north and west, west and north, and then was lost in the tree-cousins. It forgot Them-inside until they were Them-outside, and the shack groaned again. Something made the whitepuff mad. It would have been mad, too, except the sun was coming up soon and it would be warm and toasty and sleep, snoring frog-low and whisper-quick, Them-forgotten once more.
|Kuile, 76 - Afternoon, hr 8|
made a bag to care for my tools and weapons
|Rosa, 76 - Evening, hr 10|
Excerpt from journal:
Sofia came back from the South East. She said she is going to start a new colony with Unca' Hinrod. It made Papa sad. He said: "I love her Radimir, but she does not love me. You do not understand how that feels." Except I do. I love Lilly but she didn't want me. She broke my heart when she left, with hardly a word. I love Cailin, but it isn't the same as I love Lilly. I love Lilly like Zos loves Tibalt. I love Cailin of course and I always will, but Lilly and I were supposed to be a pair....(There are water stains over this and then next section)
Then Papa said "I'm going to leave Rad, I don't know if I'll be back. Do not look for me. You have children to take care of, and in my absence, you will be the oldest person here who is not a sleeper. Running after me will only waste your life. Goodbye, son. I'm sorry."
And with that, he left. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe he abandoned me.
When it happened, I fell to the floor and sobbed, unable to comprehend. But I couldn't abandon my children, as much as I am going to miss Papa and wish he could know I love him - that I need him too. He wouldn't listen.
I left with Cailin to get our things from the mountain but I hate Sofia. She is an evil person who ruined my whole life to this point. I would kill her if I thought I could get away with it. That is a sad fact, but true. She is no longer my mother, and if she decides after all of this to stay in Lorelei, I won't be staying once my children are old enough to leave.
|Lote, 76 - Evening, hr 10|
The pain came and I was immediatly fearful. Why had I risked this again? With the ominious shadow of failure hanging over my head, why did I think it would be a good idea to try and raise more children? I guess because of him: Junta was always my strength, and he helped me through everything.
It was too late to have second thoughts. She was born. He wanted to name her Kenna, so we did. She has her father's name, her father's nose, his smile. She was beautiful.
|Gurtha, 76 - Sunrise, hr 5|
He looks back on his home, feeling a mixture of sadness and hope. It would have been nice to be leaving simply to be able to travel with Layla, but Tom knew it wasn't just his love for her that was driving him to leave. He had not wanted to hurt either of them, but there seemed to be no way around it.
|Lasse, 76 - Evening, hr 12|
Death. It was the first time he had seen death, at least the first death of another of his kind. He was barely old enough to speak, but he watched as she cut down the newborn boy. She slashed it mercilessly until liquid stopped coming from the body. Was it an evil thing? The one they called Isengar did not know. He was too young to understand such things.
As she turned on the second baby, he just sat and watched. For that was all he could do. What was the woman's name? So hard to understand the things going on in the camp. People coming and going. Making food and tools. Hunting. Saying things he barely understood.
Names. He knew some names. Belruin, Bardoc, Melian... yes Melian that was her name. She was the one killing the ones younger then himself. Everything is so confusing. All he can do is watch.
|Lasse, 76 - Evening, hr 12|
As I come to consciousness I feel a sudden sharp pain running across my torso... feeling moister gather around me. I gasp, unable to control my breathing or body for that mater. Mama had sliced me open with her claymore. I use the rest of my strength to get outside for help. Tremors surge through my body as I call out for mama. I was just trying to feed my little sister and as a result I now lay here in a pool of my own blood, my inner organs visible. My eyes grow heavy as the darkness consumes me.
|Losse, 77 - Afternoon, hr 8|
Malric was hopelessly lost. He had left the mine to see if his parents were outside, but he did not find them. Instead he found himself wandering through a forest, always hiding his sensitive eyes from the blazing sun.
As his travel continued, the weather grew hotter and his metal armor burned in the light, so he left it behind. He had no food but the berries that he stumbled upon by chance. He cried out for his mother and father, but it was futile, as his voice was absorbed by the constant noise of the forest at night.
Then one night Malric found a tiny building amidst the trees. Confused, he went closer and saw that there were winged dolls around the house. They had little tools and little clothes. He could not understand who had made all of this.
As he watched, one of the dolls chirped and moved. Malric grabbed at it, but it darted away, hiding behind a slightly larger doll. He looked to see if any of the other dolls were alive, but what he saw was a mine.
A mine! A nice, dark, cool, earthy mine! How could he not try and climb in?
But the hole was built for the dolls and Malric could only fit his feet before he got stuck. He struggled to free himself. It was of no avail. He looked back towards the dolls and saw that one of the larger ones, which was still only the size of his hand, was flying to him.
The flying doll alighted on the hill above the hole and she spoke to Malric with a little voice that reminded him of birdsong. She told him to stop moving and said she would help him to get out. She also told him that she was not a doll and not a bird, but a Folke.
After she introduced herself as Nissa, Malric informed her of his name as well. Then he let her rub a sticky cold liquid on his legs. It helped and he was able to pull his legs out of the hole. As Nissa and the other Folke looked on, he hid from the blinding sun under a thick willow tree and fell asleep.
|Losse, 77 - Evening, hr 11|
Mama went away. She went with Tessi and Tahlia, to meet some animal people Tahlia had found. I didn't know, though. They told me later. I didn't know that she was going so far away. I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't know. I wanted to run after her and say goodbye, but they were already too far away.
|Kuile, 77 - Before dawn, hr 3|
The pain was bad, but not as bad as the other times. Soon, a pup was freed from my stomach. For a second, I dumbly believed it was over. But why was I still in labor? Soon, a little girl was born as well. But it was not over, and it wouldn't be for too long.
Has there ever been seven children born at once before? Was I the first to have such a difficult pregnancy? What was even more surprising that all of them turned out to be okay, though a few were shy. Everyone woke up, and ate food, and wore diapers or whatever else we could find. I had saved up a years worth of food, and it was eagerly consumed by the little ones, but they needed more.
It was hard, making sure that each little squirming pup was fed and warm and happy. People would come into my old tent to say hello, and to gape at the endless number of little ones. Only a few of them bothered to help, of course. But seeing those who I raised, was raised with, and was raised by was comforting, nonetheless.
It was then that I knew I had to roam free. I had to visit Deimosia, to see the damage Torin had done. And questions were on my mind for the great Aten and kind Sekah, many evil questions that refused to leave my tired head.
But not with seven hungry pups. My doubts and curiosities would have to wait.
|Kuile, 77 - Afternoon, hr 8|
Again she kills our own people. It has only been a year since Isengar watched Melian cut down another member of their family. Was Belruin his family? Were any of them his family? He knows so little. People coming and going and talking. Inbetween being a sleep and awake he catches parts of different conversations that make no sense to him. He starts to recognize different words; hunt, food, take, wrong, bad. Bad is said a lot before she kills again.
Was Belruin his family? Were any of them his family? He does not know but they frighten him. It does not feel... safe here. Safe? When young ones like him are often murdered? Yes he understands the idea of murder now. A life suddenly stopping, no more breath, no more movement. He does not want to become still and silent.
He spends his time watching them make different things. He learns to stay quiet and out of sight. He will make what he needs and leave. Leave to somewhere safe. But he must also hide. What was that thing on the one person's face? Yes that would be what he makes first. A mask. A mask to hide behind.
|Lote, 77 - Midnight, hr 1|
He brought his hammer down, more a granite club that had seen better days than an actual hammer, and listened to the satisfying clang as he beat the red-hot iron into a point. Carefully gripping the hilt, formed of carved bone wrapped in animal hide, he raised the hammer once more. This sword, this weapon that he was forging was the beginning of a new life. A new him. He had forfeited his old life for a new one, just as he was forfeiting his obsidian blade for this iron sword. Bringing the granite mallet down once more, the ring of stone on hot steel filled the sandstone chamber. He was beginning a new life, he was born anew. Raising the hammer once more, the young teenage male grimaced, sweat rolling down his cheeks despite the fact that snow no doubt covered the ground that this chamber was built into. He licked his lips, and slammed down the hammer once more, finishing the razorsharp point. Grabbing the shoddily made hilt, he stood, dropping the hammer as he rushed to the door, shouldering his way onto the mountain peak. With a grunt, he stabbed the burning weapon into the snow, and the soft, white substance quickly turned to water and steam as the iron longsword began to cool down. His lips formed an uncharacteristic smile, and he began to laugh, gazing down at the weapon in his hands. His free hand scrabbled to pull a worn bone knife from its place on his leggings, and he placed the tip to the hilt, ready to carve, when he stopped.
He was beginning a new life, and forfeiting his old. Just as he lost his old sword, he lost his old name. And, besides, for leaving those who had named him, he had given up the right to a name. Pulling back the bone knife, he slid it into a loop of leather on his leggings, leaving just a small dot on the bone crossguard as the smile faded from his features. Studying the weapon, he heard a small sound and looked up to a strange childlike creature garbed in shoddy animal hides. Anger filling his eyes, the teen charged forward, loosing a roar.
|Lote, 77 - Midday, hr 7|
A low roar of anger exploded forth as he swung his newly forged iron longsword down, the weapon easily slicing through his prey's soddily-sewn animal hides and dark green skin. Warm blood burst forth from the result wound as a wimper of pain was torn from the small child-like creature's lips. Releasing it's shoddily made wooden club, the creature slowly fell to the ground, the sanguine liquid flowing from its mortal wound to tint the snow a dark red. Standing over the fallen creature, the now nameless boy cackled with triumph before swinging down his weapon, severing the small creature's head. Then, guided by self-loathing, he charged one of the few creatures brave enough to still stand and fight, the small child-like thing chittering madly in its strange language.
It was not their fault that his father had died, or that his brother had died years later. It was not their fault that those his age were all trapped at Ashia's gate. It was not their fault that his sister had left, leaving him alone with three elderly, barren and stagnant adults with no vision of the future. Neither was it his fault that those things had happened. But it was his fault that he was leaving those three adults behind, it was his fault that he was angry. And it was their fault that they fell so easily, that their screams of pain where so satisfying. It was their fault that he needed to release his pain. It was their fault that they were there for him to take out his wrath upon.
Blade whirling above his head, he brought another creature low, cackling as its warm blood sprayed onto his face, a major artery having been torn open from the fatal stroke. The nameless teen cackled, and licked the blood from his lips as he slowly stalked forward in the snow.
|Lote, 77 - Midday, hr 7|
I hunted for the first time today. I was told the creature was called a seagull. Mama and Dada are still gone, I don't think Dada will come back...
|Lote, 77 - Evening, hr 12|
This is what death looks like, he thought, as he cradled the dagger of ice in his hand. The air was cold in the deep cavern, and his wings could barely move for all the strain in his shoulders. He had smashed a piece of ice against the cave floor until it had taken form, then he ground it down crudely until it became the implement he now held. It burned to the touch.
|Urnu, 77 - Afternoon, hr 9|
The deep parts of the mine were as dark as night. It was just that the sounds were different. Here and there I could still see; the cave moss and wild cave grass glowed soft light over the walls, opening a path while I held Death in my hand.
Beyond the glowing clusters, I saw nothing, but heard the underground river flowing just ahead. I could smell the wet walls of the cave. That's how I knew where they would be. Long water snakes with sharp teeth, the tiny fish that spat every kind of colored light in the dark.
I crept to the water's edge, and stood stock still, just the way Papa did when he hunted for deer. I couldn't see anything but the fire of a single fish. And that was what I struck at, point down. My wings were stiff in the deep cold, but I used them to push myself at the last moment. The splash was huge, and cold. My pants were soaked through with ice water, but I now had a fish speared on the end of my blade. This is what Death does, I thought, it puts you to sleep. I watched as Death itself shook the life out of the fish, and its mouth opened for the last time, revealing tiny teeth. Drops of dark blood painted my palm, the space between my feet.
Turning to a sound near my left ankle, I became aware of a water snake as it reared up, staring at me with its triangle head. We looked at each other for a long time. It moved first. The lamprey whipped past my head, and nicked my temple with its long fangs. With all the quickness Jeuno granted me, I stuck it under the jaw, and tore down its belly, and it fell to the edge of the underground shore, on top of a few pieces of old bone.
That was my first time hunting. I looked at the cold dagger in my hand, and finally noticed how much it burned to hold. I felt breathing behind me. The God of Death's frozen hand pressed upon my shoulder. I threw the evil dagger of ice into the river and ran, leaving the dark, leaving the shard as it was swept into a place not even Fay could find.
|Urnu, 77 - Evening, hr 11|
Who is this woman....why does she keep flashing in and out? Dada can do the same thing too now....Will I be able to?
|Naur, 77 - Before dawn, hr 2|
I am going on a very important mission! We need poppies and salt, but that's a secret! Zoan made me a big barrel, and I will fill it all the way with the secret supplies and then I'll come back! It's too bad Rufus is sleeping or else he could come too and it wouldn't just be me, but I know I can do this because I'm not useless!
|6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 of 48|