Peregrinne

So he was gone.

Just like that.

There was no lingering look. No final brush against the cheek. No desperate kiss. No frightened embrace. No frantic, passionate last-minute screw. Not like all the other times they parted ways.

Miles,

I got to go.

I've never been real good at leaving, you know that, I just take off but I can't just take off now. Every other time I always knew I'd come back, so I never had to say nothing. I knew I'd be back and I'd find you. I don't know if I'm going to come back this time but I can't look you in the eye to tell you I'm leaving. Forgive me, love, but I can't do it. Nobody else is even getting a letter -- just you.

((RP log turned story from Dorien's point of view, whoooo! So there might be some mistakes.))

"Good work."

At the sound of the new voice, Dorien looked up from the fireplace, turning slightly to see the gnome walk into the small room. She was hooded and covered from head to toe in cloth, but he knew the voice, and doubted there were any other gnomes who would even bother to come here.

I am getting more paranoid the more time passes. It would be best if they had just offed me the first night I left, but as days go on with no activity, I become more worried. What if they are planning something bigger? What if they got to Auberin?

I had to leave the ship because the longer I sat there, the more paranoid I became. I left a note on my usual bunk, said I was going to see another ex-Kamil and packed a bag.

I am losing faith in myself as a proper adventurer. Every time I lead a voyage into the unknown, it always goes to shit. Is it me or is it who I take with me?

Ziichi and I decided to go out. She has seen so little of the world and my feet constantly itch, “Get out, get out, get out, go somewhere new.”

So we did.

I left the Kamil.

I do not recall what prompted me to do so. …I went home, I went to get some things for the week and Lazaar was there. We fought, I brought up the other elf and the corpse they fed to Yeva.

[[The entry is written in code, but even then it seems to be rather sprawling and filled with crossed-out lines and corrections.]]

This is probably the first time in a long while that I have bothered to write this way... But this is something I cannot chance having viewed by other eyes.

I have been increasingly careless on where I leave my journal and I know that Aren is suspicious about its contents. But...he just cannot read it. Not yet, at least.
 

I have

been doub

Betrayed.

By Dorien. By Alkrenon. By Lazaar.

Dorien has been cheating the books

Alkrenon has been sleeping with Dorien

Lazaar does not love me

Where do I go from here? 

I took my things and I left, but only now do I realize I have no where to go.

Auro does not answer his door

Miles and Grinne are gone

Dorien is a TRAITOR

I can not see my family

I wanted to have an adventure for the fireworks like last year

but all I found was Alkrenon

had to yell at him, threaten him, tell him what is what

found his brother, tried to get help, but he is just the same as him-- said there was nothing he could do. I will have no remorse if I must use him against Alkrenon.

Last year I had a great adventure. Went down to the bay, cooked, had fun, laughed with Miles and Grinne, enjoyed free ale

He went into the Sanctum, a knight of gold and red, sword and shield in hand.

The Black flight, in madness or in disrespect, had broken and charred this sacred place. The Reds rose to meet them, and select mortals were enlisted alongside. A knight of gold and red, once pale and mute and broken, was among them.

Grinne,

Been in Darnassus since the news. My condolences, but I FUCKING TOLD YOU SO. Have you and your girlfriend torched those fucking things yet? Do it and get your shaky ass down here, I am not tromping back up to the snow and leaving things here alone. Going through with the plan NOW, we'll talk after. Seeing as things need to get done and you aren't about to do them.
-- Yir

He is out
riding.
Because that's what he has to do
He could talk to them, say
How are you
He could make jokes and
(in the surprising case
of one austere young woman
he could roll
some dice.)

But he didn't know how to say
What is this place, and when
is the other one coming back, who said
he would fix Miles

So he rides.

The days had been blurs, really. He doesn't fully remember how many days, what he was doing during them. He only remembers pillars and snow, the kind and impossibly amber eyes of a bearded person who he suspected wasn't a person at all caring for he and Grinne.

The day that he finally started remembering was the day the temple shook.

It's late afternoon in the wastelands of Dragonblight, the sun a pale glow behind a thick curtain of grey and blue clouds. The shack perched in the mountains over Wintergarde is silent, unmoving. No one has been in or out since the incident a few days prior that resulted in a glass jar filled with muddy, greasy foam and a shellshocked paladin. He wouldn't speak fully of what had occurred, but it was something that shook him to his core, and he was slipping. Going back into that vacant, horrified daze when things are increasingly growing overwhelming.

[The journal is cramped and clipped. The page is dominated by scratched notes and alchemical symbols and circles. Some of the journal entry is written over the top with these frantic scribbles, or curves around to not obstruct the notes and drawings.]

I wrote to Grinne.

Grinne came and found me up here in Dragonblight.

He saw what I was working on. He saw what I have made.

What have I MADE.

 If you're reading this, I'm dead. Hopefully long dead, permanent dead, though not sent-home-in-the-mailbox dead, except that could be the case, I don't know. And if you're reading this, I'm past caring. And now that I'm dead? I guess it's safe to tell you. Everything you know about me is a lie. I ain't the barefoot sentinel you see once a week. I'm not the golden-tinged-memory-angel from my childhood. I'm a thug, mom. I have been for awhile now.

Dear Journal,

So yeah mebbie just got into trouble. Hear Ley and Grinne talking in the lamb and I was kinda tired and didnt wanna go through that whole talking back thing so I just went in there and sat down and blended into the shadows and shit like I know how to do and dozed off after a bit I guess I didnt snore?

weird

In Duskwood a small house hid very clean and dark and quiet. Papers stacked every surface. The stove lay cold and unused. There was no bed. There was no one home.

Wind beat at the shutters for several hours before its brute force won free. With a gunshot noise a rusty metal fixture gave, and loam-smelling gusts blew the papers into a frenzy. It opened book covers and filled the air with drawings. A cold storm was coming to Duskwood, and the pictures would not find rest for hours.

There were hundreds of them. The characters were familiar:

It is with deep regrets we inform you of the passing of Crusader Arkturas. He battled long and hard with his wounds, but succumbed in the night these last few days. We grieve with you, and are hoping to provide any and all services we can.

In the Light,
Grand Crusader Adelard

-------------

I'm HOME.

Feels great. Missed this stupid apartment.

Got taken in the tram a few weeks back. Another mob-- the Other Mob-- the one who tried to blow up Fred and compay before got me. Stupid, stupid. I should have carried a bigger weapon. Even Natharai said it was stupid. I let my guard down, become careless, get hurt.