Racuvar's Writings

The Three Weeks Story: A Mer Reborn

Day One: 6th of The Shadow, 2E 582

Dreams. For a week now I've been having dreams. The overwhelm me in the night hours, they occupy my thoughts in the daylight. I dream of songs and fell compelled to sing of my dreams. it is not that they are bad, but it is unusual.
For a while now I've just been going about my normal duties in the post. Keeping on so to say. When I don't have to be on duty I will venture into the Wood. It's always calming out there. It's as if I can hear the woods.
They sound like a soothing rain as the drop fall on the ground. The leaves all singing in the wind,
their chorus echoing as their millions upon millions of voices wave gently
in the breeze. It help soothe my nerves when I am out in the Wood.
I feel more at home there than in the town built by hands.
In the Wood, my mind is calmed, my heaviness gone,
My dreams come to life and my life goes to song.
In the Wood, my dreams become clear, I've nothing to fear,
My life is now seen and my mind becomes keen.
In the Wood, I long to roam, it becomes my home,
It is where I am free, it is where I must be,
I must seek the Trees.

Day Three: 8th of The Shadow, 2E 582

After much contemplation and advise from a close friend, I have decided to set off. I am leaving my duties for now. I need time away, time to think and get my head cleared. Nothing feels right at this moment, the only thing I know is right is that I need to leave. I need to figure things out, have time to think. It's not like my life is chaos here, but I need to go. I need to be out in the Wood, walking, travelling, hunting. I need that rest.
I'm setting out today. My plan is to head south into the wood some. I don't know how long I shall be gone, or what will happen, but I know that this is right. I've gathered my supplies and packed them together. I have my bow and and ready now. It's early morning right now, the sun is just beginning to break over the horizon. Fletcher's been laying here watching me as I write. He knows that we are preparing to leave. I've decided to leave my horse though. She'll be cared for in the stables, and if I have need of her I can always return.
I have delayed long enough. I shall now set out.

Day Seven: 12th of The Shadow, 2E 582

The past few days have gone on with little event. I set out in the morning to hunt, spend the afternoon resting, preparing food, and such. It is quiet out in the Wood. I enjoy it. I ended up setting up camp among a copse of large trees to the south of the post. Fletcher is happier out here I think. He marks everything in sight and chases imgakin back up into the trees.
Since being out here, my dreams have changed. If anything though, they have become more intense. It is not bad though, it's almost as if they offer a greater clarity. I do not understand them, but at the same time I am less confused by them. I don't understand why they are happening so much. I've taken to quiet mediation to try and help me. I'll find a good place amongst the undergrowth and sit as still as I can for a while. It's very calming. I've felt so much better since being in the Wood.
I am meant for it.

Day Eight: 13th of The Shadow, 2E 582

Last night I dreamed a dream so different, one that sung a dream coherent.
It was as if that song called out, endeavoring to sing that which my dream was about.
Thus in that song the story-dream wove, I could see a tree grown within a grove.
Yet this tree did not match the others, 'twas a tree grown distant from it's brothers.
This tree had not an elegant bark, but marred by years it wore the mark,
The mark that every soul doth know, the tired soul who longs to go
To seek out peace from years of strife, a soul, a tree, grown weary of life.
But in this dream this tree I saw, began to grow and change, with awe
I looked upon it's life renewed, a tree found hope, this tree regrew.
And as this tree it's life repaired, it's branches reached, it's leaves then bared.
The tree then kept to grow and grow, outpacing all the trees below.
It spread it branches far and wide, and became a tree, landmark, and guide,
A guide that every other tree did know, and thus like him, began to grow.
And before my eyes I watched as then the grove did enlarge and enlarged again,
This grove became a forest grand, until their trunks filled all the land.

It was just then it spoke to me, the tree once marred, now Graht Oak Tree,
And thus to me it spake and told, "As like I, you must be bold.
Forget your marks and years of strife, for just like me you'll have new life,
For e'en my priest awaits you now, thus go as quickly as your feet allow.
Go to him in my holy shrine, my Woods shall lead you, follow in kind,
For you a call to a higher cause, now go, depart, and do not pause."
And thus the tree did end his speech, the dream did fade, my sleep was breached,
And now I travel to seek my fate, thus I turn, and quicken my gait.

Day Twelve: 17th of The Shadow, 2E 582

It has been four days since the dream-song of the Graht Oak. As soon as I could I made my way back north to town to retrieve my horse, after which I immediately and without pause set forth to find the tree. My journey did not take as long as I thought though. The woods led me to the Tree City of Silvenar which, once there, I sought out the priest. After spending a day asking around I was finally directed to the audience of a few elders, of whom all were priest, or Spinners of Y'ffre. I related to them many of my dreams, including the dream-song of the Graht Oak. They then began to tell me a story.
In the story they told me of a Mer, the greatest man in his village, one whom all looked up to. This mer had three sons. Now the mer, growing old in age, bequeathed an inheritance upon each of his sons. The first son, snatching up his inheritance made off to nearest great city built by hands. The first son then squandered his inheritance through riotous and indulgent living. His portion of inheritance was gone within a week, and he became a servant, fit only to care and feed a farmers swine.
The second son went, and fearful for being like the first, buried his inheritance amongst the roots of his house-tree, continuing in his normal life and forgetting the inheritance.
Now the third son, after he had received the inheritance of his father, went straightway and bought himself many goods from a far off town. These goods he brought home, and selling them again he increased his money three-fold. And became a benevolent man in his village, one who cared for the less fortunate, and increased the prosperity of the village.
At the conclusion of these three, the father called his third son back to him. When the son came, the father honored him for his well doing, and gave to him the true inheritance, the Heart of the Village. With this, the third son had power to rule and tame the Woods of the village. The father then blessed his son, saying that a wise man is he, who taking what he has been given, uses them for goodness and does not squander, nor forget the blessing he has been bestowed.

At the end of this story, the spinners asked me which son I would be, the first, the second, or the third. I understanding their words, responded that I would become the third. At this they told me to return to them again tomorrow.
I shall soon see what will await me.

Day Twenty Five: 30th of The Shadow, 2E 582

Two weeks have I spent, from dawn till dusk listening to the stories of the Spinners. Surely they are the greatest people of Valenwood. Mer born of stories and tales. In turn they have had me relate to them every story of my life. Days just relating and weaving what has cone to form me into the person I am. Truly it is a humbling experience, but yet one that has given me even greater appreciation.
I am at once intimidated and excited about the prospecting of becoming a weaver of history, keeper of a culture.
Spinner Aldark has told me to return home for a time, after which I shall return to Silvenar in hopes of taking my next steps.

For now I shall make my way back towards Baandari. It will be good to return for a time.

13th of Sun's Height, 2E 582

It has been long since I have written. I have been trying to adjust to my position as spinner. Thus far much of it seems to be filling in when needed, supporting where support is needed. Since then I have become part of Vulkwasten's council, though to level the seeming boon of that honor, we have never met once. Even so, it is an honor and perhaps a duty that will manifest as decisions or troubles are to be dealt with.

I have become to grow more familiar with many residents. I try to learn them. Meet them too of course, but at times I feel you learn the most about one when they act naturally, as prey when it does not know its being stalked, you see it's natural habits, behaviors. I watch all I see, constantly examining, weighing, judging, watching for one who stands out.

A party in the town has recently gone out to hunt and destroy a group of cultist having strayed too close to civilization. It seems they were a group to have taken prisoners. One Thorthil was among them, apparently an old flame of the treethanes. He seems to free with certain women, loose morals and undesirable character. Perhaps a nightblade shall grace us yet with the loss of his presence.

It seems many former leaders have gone on journeys and trips. The guard has been in process of reformation it seems. With bluewhisps call to war it has been taken under new responsibility. One standing out is this Fedris. I am unsure of him. He seemed a fair lad, but through several circumstances I am unsure what to think. He has become a guard, one trusted with protection. Yet he seems a headstrong and flirtatious, a young man with no control over himself yet. Too young in years to be dependable. Ive become aware that he has embroiled himself in some scandal, an affair with male "courtesans". This comes as no surprise honestly, but it seems to have hurt more than just himself. No consideration or thought towards results of action.

I'm worried for styletta, she seems to have been having trouble lately. No doubt from the aforementioned unthinking twat. But I'm worried that it is driving her to make wrong decisions. She's but a child honestly. I just hope she does not flee to others, and thus seek refuge in new friends that are not any better than those she flees. Hiding in the mud never has helped a wound, but only let's it fester till the bearer dies of the affliction.

These matters weigh upon my mind.

17th of Sun's Height, 2E 582

Yesterday was a whirlwind. I thought it would be an average day in the tavern. I was so very wrong. Apparently some meat had been poisoned and made several of the townsmen sick. Later an elfmaid came to me confessing and asking that I spin her a cover for it. She planted the meat on Avella, the adopted daughter of Krimie as a way to get back at Avella's father apparently. It was confusing, and not much clearer after learning the mer was Krimie's sister as well. I didn't say anything right away.. I thought I could fix it. Then there was the scream. Afer and I found a dying khajiit out back, dagger in the chest and gyt slit open. We carried her bleeding up to the clinic as quick as we could. I tied and seared off as many veins as I could while after kept pressure on her, it wasn't fast enough though, she bled out before I could finish. It was unfortunate. I was covered in blood from the khajiit, my robes filthy with it. I managed to find that an organ had been stolen though after I re examined the corpse. A kidney. I don't know why.

I cleaned up the body and most of the mess, then went to clean and get changed. That twat showed up right at the end demanding answers, stammering as if he were important. Once I had cleaned off I gave a statement to Menelin about the ordeal. It was gruesome. I was surprised by the calmness with which Styletta assisted though. She threw up afterwards I think, yes, but during the ordeal she kept a very clear head and worked quickly to help.

I thought things would be over. I went to thank styletta, sat down by her. Her fox kept playing with me. It was... Nice. She was about to ask me somethibg too when another scream rang out. Stupid.

I ran down to see what had happened. Avella was dead, head smashed in. Obviously I had an idea who had done it. We carried her body up to the clinic to keep it out of the way. Krimie showed up asking what had happened. The little twat showed the restraint of a hungry hungry hoarover and spat out that her daughter was dead. She flew into a panic, couldn't breath. I tried calming her down with an incant. She did, but not before her baby started coming.

I helped to carry her up towards the clinic. We made it to the ramp when her water broke. I would need to change again. We got her upstairs and situated. I tried keeping her as calm as I could. Styletta impressed yet again. She immediately prepared herself to deliver the baby. She did very well in the situation. I was impressed. She helped to deliver the babies. Two of them. Twins. Avella and Nedlas. Gods help those children with what they're in for.

After the commotion died down, everyone held them, and things calmed down, I went to change yet again. Once I got back in the tavern I saw the mer who had told me about the poisoning. I knew she had done the deed to Avella. I quickly grabbed her to stop her from leaving. She screamed bloody murder when I would not let her go. Right then... Right then Fedris showed up... He wouldn't believe her accusations towards me, and he accepted my account of her admittance. She tried to kill herself too rather than go, but we stopped her. Fedris and I took her to the cages. She screamed terrible things at me. Strangely, it felt good. Good to have stopped her. Ruined an evil persons machinations.

It was unfortunate that the offender was Krimies sister... It seems she had begun to woo the brother of Styletta too. Dreadful. Once back at the tavern, it seems most had gone home. Styletta wasn't to be found. I had a drink, and... He started talking to me... Wanted to pry into my life, asking about spinners and me and why I always stayed alone. Bloody invasive stuff... I finally satiated his appetite though and he left for home. I followed soon after and went to my own bed. I couldn't sleep. My mind was racing too much.

~S~

When it rains, it pours in Vulkwasten. All too true that day.