A charred, slightly chewed book...

12 posts · started by Varus on Aug 14, 2017 · 1479 views · in Active Journals & Diaries

Emilia of CamlornAug 14, 2017

Aug 14, 2017 at 08:45 AM #1

~Entry No. ....~

Huh, who would had thought that clearing off an old bookshelf can end in an avalanche of dust, hard covers ~~(which hurt quite much, by the way!)~~ and this old thing! How many months... or years, even, was since I last picked this damned thing up? And why in Dagon's name it has a portion of it missing! Is that... a bite mark?! That damnable Guar! I swear by Azura's illustrious bosoms, if he wasn't of such sentimental value to me...

Getting off-topic. Why, exactly am I doing this again? Oblivion knows. Afer once said something about the necessity to vent, to 'unbottle' all this pent-up angst. Ironic, granted that from what I know of him...

I suppose this is the part where I am suppose to write about self? Right... then why the Dagon nothing comes to mind?! Or... no. Book or no, I am not going down that path again. Just... no.

~the following segment consists of a sizable ink-drop as a long line, as if someone threw the quill down~

And here I am. Still here. Still staring into the damned book. Apparently, it is missing most of my prior records. About S'ren-Ja, ~~though a half-charred roasted of the old Clansgruad seemed to survive, somehow~~... About the life in the Baandari, and then Vulkwasten. Ah, the merry old Vulkwasten, a place where merriment and madness seem to flow in equal measure...

Void, why cannot I just focus on a topic, and do a simplest thing?! Ugh... I suppose I shall try again later. Thank Azura I keep this book in my bedroom, for I shan't hear an end of it should Aliijham get his grabby paws on it...

Edited Aug 14, 2017 at 08:46 AM by 0

Emilia of CamlornAug 14, 2017

Aug 14, 2017 at 09:00 AM #2

~Entry No. 1~

Alright, let's try this again, shall we? Taking a step back and having a good, long look at the situation is usually considered a good idea. So I did. ~~May had also stared at the burning candle for a moment or two, but that is beside the point!~~ I think... I think I may had guess the roots of my earlier problem.

Avoiding speaking of one's genuine feelings, emotions and desires is natural. Void, I had spent years honing the art of putting up a show for the others! Yet... I seem to be unable to let go of my persona, not even in the company of none. That is... worrisome. Inability to be open with other individuals is one thing, inability to do so for myself is anything but. Why am I even bothering to write this down?

I suppose I should blame this on Afer again. And Elsynia. And Lulie. Oblivion, even the Inspector! Who would had thought that a mer a composed as him would have such a sense of humor! Truly, an illusionary beard shaped like a squid, decorating his otherwise impeccable helm! Magnus, I had not laughed this much since... eons, really. A simple dinner party, away from the hustle and bustle of cities, Guilds and Dagon knows what else... just us. A group of friends, celebrating life. I even managed to forget my customary persona and "let my hair down", so to say. There were to titles, to obligations... simply us. Gods, I never even realized how much I missed such... simpler times!

Yet even so, I could not fail but notice the empty seat to my right. I suppose the same thought had crossed the minds of others, as a merry mood grew somewhat more somber. Afer left to 'clear his head'. Azura knows what is happening within the said head of his... but it is troubling... And, I ramble. Again. Best end this now, before the wine kicks in in earnest...

~the last line is written in a somewhat shaky handwriting~

To friends, those who had passed, those who remain, and those who may yet come!

Emilia of CamlornAug 15, 2017

Aug 15, 2017 at 11:06 AM #3

~Entry No. 2~

Bloody hell! How can something that started off so nice turn into complete, and utter shitstorm so quickly! If I dared to tempt the fate even more, I would claim that what else could turn to shite over the given period of time! Alright Bethany, deep breaths... Let's, at least, try and be constructive here, fire and brimstone can wait...

For starters, the mourning and an early mid-day was rather pleasant, if somewhat odd. Growing rather sick of the uniform green foliage that is Valenwoon, I decided to take it slow and took my mare for a ride on the way from Skywatch, and towards the city of Firsthold. Imagine my surprise when I quite literally stumbled across Kinlord's Tuti'els and his entourage, enjoying themselves by the side of a lake. ~~A damn nice lake too, scenic... stay of focused, for Azura's sake!~~ Where was I...

As surprised as I was to encounter the Kinlord himself ~~(or was it Firstreeve, never got hold of that merethic gibberish. Gods, and they blame us for overly-complicated hierarchy of nobility... like Void it is!)~~, all of that pales in comparison to whom I had spotted by the mer's very side. Lo and behold, our sweet little Amae, dressed in a fine garb bearing the crest of the Kinlord's House, was acting the part of a squire... Well, well, looks like our innocent little mer with a hair of silver does get around. Funny that she had failed to mention such a small detail to me, when we last spoke... I wonder what else she may had 'neglected' to mention, what else lies hidden beneath that sweet, shy and innocent smile. Shite... is this truly what I came to be? Suspecting everything and anyone for any given reason? Or is it just my paranoia talking... Either way, not good. Note to self...

As things go, Kinlord and I had a rather pleasant, if painfully mundane chat about weather, beauty of the land, blah blah blah, Altmeri pride, blah blah... the usual. And, true to the unspoken rule, the symbolic defecation had hit the Dwemeri oscillation the second I set foot in that accursed town. And how! Barely time to order self a glass of wine, when Terath practically dragged bloodied Afer back in. Stendarr's arse, I had seen victims of a wild animal mauling looking better... As it turned out, the Steward had about enough of Afer's attitude, and walloped the doofus hard. And, if that wasn't enough, he also got himself arrested. Arrested. Mere days before the expedition departs, and this shite came to pass? Ploughin hell, which Deity did I piss of this time round to warrant this!

I fear that my gross underestimation of Afer's real condition, the one he desperately tries to hide beneath his ~~shitty~~ meager acting skills, can make him a valid danger both to himself, and those around him. That arse... I will speak with him as soon as I have the time, but not tonight. First, I need to vent my pent-up, murderous desire to set anything that even remotely reeks of mead ablaze out, least he suffers something worse then a broken jaw... And if that was not enough, I had received a summon from the thrice-damned Counsel. Whatever it may be, this does not bode well... I will set off this very eve, hoping for the best and yet preparing for the worst...

Edited Aug 15, 2017 at 11:09 AM by 0

Emilia of CamlornAug 16, 2017

Aug 16, 2017 at 11:02 AM #4

~Entry No. 3~

Finally had the time to deal with the more pressing issues. First and foremost - the final ingredient. For the incantation... Damit, of course I didn't write a thing about it... nay, perchance I shan't do so now, either. Call it a superstitious nonsense, but I fear that simply mentioning so ahead of time may ruin our chances, however slim they are. Hope... hope is all we truly have right now.

On my way to the Counsel session, I was able to finally work up the nerve ~~and patience and long-suffering~~ to stop by Afer's cell. It was... trying. In truth, the two of us are much the same, yet different. Like... an ice and fire? A poor analogy, I know, yet oddly fitting. I suppose this is but another proof of how negligent to those around me I became, of late... His condition deteriorated greater then I could had expected, yet I should had seen this coming from a mile away... I shall not commit to paper the exact words we exchanged. Not even in the privacy of my own. Yet... I hope that I succeeded. Afer may be a real pain in the arse more times then he is not... but he is my pain in the arse, I will not allow him to slip away into Oblivion, even if I had to drag him back into the Nirn kicking and screaming...

But now, as I gaze upon the shores of the blessed Isle and scribble away in this book, my thoughts drift ever closer to the Conclave. There is much to be decided there, and my fate is but a second thought upon my mind. I want.... no, I need the Counsel to hear me out. The timing could not had been worse... For the first time since forever, I feel something I had almost forgotten by now... dread. I am afraid.

Edited Aug 16, 2017 at 11:05 AM by 0

Emilia of CamlornAug 16, 2017

Aug 16, 2017 at 07:51 PM #5

~Entry No.... 4.~

It is over. The die is cast, and there is no going back. Need to clear my head... maybe, find Elsynia and the Inspector. Work on the Incantation... something. Just... not to think of THIS... for now, at least.

Coward.

Edited Aug 16, 2017 at 07:51 PM by 0

Emilia of CamlornAug 18, 2017

Aug 18, 2017 at 06:02 AM #6

~Entry No. 5~

Where do I even begin... I suppose the said start may be a good option, no? Gods... sassing myself on the pages of this old book... Quaint. And, I lost my track again.

I suppose it should go without saying that baring my heart and even more so - having the audacity to ask for their aid, was the worse idea since the happening of Soulburst. No, truly... as if being the subject of the continuous play wasn't enough, I just had to run out, shouting 'Here I am, kill me! There is a conveniently placed target fixed upon my back!'... Gods, what an idiot. But, I suppose the desperation truly does lead to fundamental stupidity. After the past two years, one ought to know that venturing into the manticora's lair in search of friendly aid is pointless at best, and outright suicidal at worst. Still, even though I had feared the exact outcome and even anticipated such... I was not prepared for THAT...

Funny, barely a day ago I had scolded Afer precisely for such self-loathing, cowardice and doubt. Then why the Oblivion do I feel compelled to do the very same, even if this involves pouring it onto these pages? Do I believe in second chances? I sure hope so... for the price of this one shall be high. And yet... I knew the second the decision was made, that this 'choice' was really not a choice at all. Either I admit defeat, and gain a sliver of hope to set my second greatest screw-up right... or nothing, really. I suppose... perchance, that bitch-born Kaldwin does have a point. With the scruples such as mine, how can I truly compete with the vipers of the Counsel, who would gladly sacrifice their loved ones for the slightest advantage over a rival? As much as I like to think of self as such... there are boundaries that even I shan't cross.

I suppose I best seek out the alternative resolution to the problem at hand. Finding Elsynia and the Inspector shall be my top priority, for the time of the Alignment is nigh, and we are still a ways to go... It is best I make myself presentable, before the meeting with the city Magistrate of Camlorn. Azura willing, this will be enough. It is a sacrifice... but one that is simply needed to be done. Magnus... I suppose it is time to live up to my very own example, no? After all... if I give up now, all those things I said to Afer were nothing more then empty words, and I'd sooner die then let this come to pass!

Emilia of CamlornAug 18, 2017

Aug 18, 2017 at 08:36 PM #7

~Entry No. 6~

It is done. Given the time constraints, and the sheer amount of preparation that had already went towards it, The Incantation is as stable as I can ask. My hands are shaking even now, from the mixture of excited anticipation, dread of the possible failure... and perhaps, a sliver of hope. Hope... something I clang to desperately ever since HE was gone. In time, more out of habit then the genuine thing, but... if there is even the slightest hope of success, I take my chances. To Oblivion with the Counsel, the Estate, and all that rubbish!

Oh, did I mentioned that my meeting with the Camlorn Magistrate went well? Ah, I also sold the Estate. The Ravenscar Keep is mine no longer. Why would I willingly let go of the Amelle legacy? Perhaps, I really am insane. Or merely I dare to hope, and the said hope just may be worth a little sacrifice, no? I am rambling... never lost the habit of doing so, ever since I was a scrawny little thing. Thank the stars I no longer do so on public. Or, thank Magistrix Conelle, if one wishes to be exact...

I must really cease wasting time, and rather go over The Incantation once more. Wouldn't that be a shame if despite all that, a minor arifmantic error will cause the rift to implode... or land us in a middle of a bloody lake of molten lava... It was tempting to go and speak with Afer, but... this sort of drama is the LAST thing the man needs in his life right now. He must get back onto his feet, sally forth... even should I happen to fall. Bah! We shan't fall! After all that we had gone trough... we will be back. Azura willing, HE shall be with us as well...

Emilia of CamlornAug 19, 2017

Aug 19, 2017 at 07:53 AM #8

~Entry No. 7~

*the text is penned down in a sloppy, shaky hand-writing, indicating that the writer was either in a hurry, or exceedingly exhausted... or even both*

We... We did it. We actually bloody did it... I had hoped, no - I had hoped to hope ~~which makes no bloody sense, by the way!~~ and still... I am still wrapping my head over the sheer insanity of this all. Yet, for all the joy and exhilaration following the successful incursion into the Deadlands... Even as the sleep grips me ever tighter, I am still able to process the sheer risk, the insanity of our plan... Had it failed... had we failed... but we did not, and that is all that matters.

I... am weary. Fighting the accursed denizens of Oblivion, opening and closing a trans-planar rift, and tending to injuries ranging from moderately severe to severely moderate... Most would spread that over more then a singular day, no? Ugh... still, I fear we aren't out of the woods yet. Ha, the 'woods'... a bad metaphor, provided we are sitting near the Gods-damned Silvenar, in a middle of a bloody jungle! And... I had forgot where this was leading to. How quaint...

I suppose it best if ~~Iiiiiiii.....................................~~

*the writing cuts off, turning into a long, partially smudged line...*

Edited Aug 19, 2017 at 07:57 AM by 0

Emilia of CamlornAug 20, 2017

Aug 20, 2017 at 08:03 PM #9

~Entry No. 8~

Reminder to self- don't drink and ~~drive~~ write, this is downright embarrassing. Wait, surely I wasn't drunk when I penned that down... must be the weariness over the course of two sleep-deprived days. Same thing, when you get to the bottom of it but, semantics...

Thorn's recovery was... confusing, to say the least. Elsynia, the Inspector and I encountered little-to-no resistance as we infiltrated what seemed some sort of mining facility. Seriously, thank the starts for the triangulation matrix I had spent an entire week on, else we would had landed smack-bam in a middle of a lake of lava... Though, if the sate of those poor sods within it is of any indication, most of them are far too weary to even think of fighting back, less so entertaining the thought of an escape... When we finally found him, he was little better then the rest. Beaten down, bloodied... gods, the sight of a clanfear jaw embedded in his abdomen still makes my skin crawl. He was no longer able to recognize us, using the left-over of his shield ~~(which was barely more then a broken handle as this point)~~ to stay us off. A desperate move, dictated by a primordial fear...

As I suspected, my attempts at using Aetherian incantation to somewhat lessen his agony and prevent him from spilling out his guts on the rocks before us, had drawn some unwanted attention. Faced with little choice, I stunned Thorn, and had Inspector and Elsy take him to the Breach, while I covered their retreat. The Dremora patrol wasn't much of a challenge, one well-placed Aetherian bomb had claimed the lot of them, but... This place had brought back memories. Memories of that accursed day we had marched our troops into the dreaded Coldharbour... The day Afer's men were butchered right before his eyes. The day I, he, Elros... all of us, truly, had stared death straight into it's ugly mug...

Retreating from the Dreadlands was only part of the game. Closing the very same breach I had opened using the sigil stone recovered by the Inspector was another... Damned thing would simply not budge! All the while Elsynia was forced to fight a bloody Dremora Lord... which went about as well as one can expect. The rift, and the blighter fell, eventually, but I was nearing a dangerous point of prolonged exhaustion, while Elsy sustained severe injuries ranging from second-degree burns, to a broken arm. What wouldn't I had given to have Afer with us, that very moment... but the man had enough on his plate as it is. I shan't drag him into this any further, not till I am certain.

As expected, physical strain was the least of our worries. Once the immediate threats were tended to, and just as we had settled down by the fires to rest and recuperate, Thorn had awaken from the spell-induced slumber. It was... trying, to say the least. I had struggled to compare this poor, frightened and beaten-down wretch with the very man I had always admired oh so much... still, we persevered. An hour later, it had became clear that it is, indeed, Thorn. While Elsynia kept him occupied, I conducted several discrete incantations, to ensure that we are not dealing with a ticking bomb. Any trace of Padomeic ambience was low, and growing weaker by the minute. From what we had gathered from his rambling, he had barely survived his encounter once the gate to Vulkwasten was closed. I... do not want to commit the details to these pages, as simply thinking of them brings immense sense of unease.

As expected, he struggled to believe that all of us, his rescue, and the bedroom of the Elsy's house he was currently located in, was real. Truly, one does simply walk into the Dreadlands, and remains unscathed. Thankfully, Elsy had came up with a truly inspired idea. Using Thorn's fear of us being his jailers under the guise of the ones from his past, we played off a small spectacle, where Thorn was 'banished' from the Dreadlands (Elsy's house) back to Nirn, and into Vulkwasten... Opening a portal indoors never was a good idea, but I had to make it look as believable as possible. After Thorn had stepped trough, the rest had followed. Elsynia's theory is that the familiarity of the surrounding shall ease him a little, slowly adjusting him to the idea of this being the reality of it. In truth, I am reluctant about it. For any good it may do, I cannot guarantee how the locals shall react upon hearing of his abrupt and mysterious return. Inspector and I shall remain behind and watch over him. Azura willing, tomorrow will bring some measure of hope for his tortured soul...

Edited Aug 20, 2017 at 08:05 PM by 0

Emilia of CamlornAug 23, 2017

Aug 23, 2017 at 07:54 PM #10

~Entry No. 9~

A lot had happened, since the last time I had picked up this journal. I suppose it is only natural, given that I barely had a chance to steady my breath, let alone rest and think. But, I suppose it is for the best... A lot of heated thoughts had crossed my mind, a lot of ire. But, when one gets to the bottom of it, escalating a fight benefits neither of the sides involved. Don't mistake my acceptance for apathy - me personal feelings on the matter had not changed one bit. Still... I am not nearly as foolish and naive, so as to let it blind me to the situation.

First and foremost - Thorn resides with me, at least for the foreseeable future. The locals were quick to judge and banish him, and my anger about it most certainly did not help the matter. Still... Having time to reflect back, I understand that Wren, despite her heated response, was doing what she honestly believed was best. Naturally, the damned curse that took hold of the city and the forests around it mere weeks ago was of little aid, either. Shite timing, if I ever saw one... But. The Guards are not the experts on the matters of Arcane, nor the denizens of Oblivion. True, they may be swift to cast blame, but such is only natural for those acting in the dark. If was more foolish of me to hold them responsible, then otherwise. Doesn't mean I condone it, damit! Bloody village comes under a nigh-costant attack from anything, ranging from fish raining out of the sky, till blasted Luminal gateways leading into Deadlands!

I digress. Thorn is recovering well, and even seemed to take a liking to my Sanctum. Hardly surprising, yet still... oddly endearing. He is far more responsive to the reality around him... I hope this means that we had passed the critical stage of his denial. Lucrezia had a chance to see him for herself, but I cannot help and wonder whether she was truly convinced or not. Regardless, an investigation handled by the Fighter's Guild is the best shot towards exonerating Thorn's name, and giving him a fair shot at the future. Vulkwasten is not the center of the world, after all...

And, in the most typical fashion, as soon as I had time to let down my hair and simply enjoy an evening of pleasant company ~~and gambling~~, I was requested to be elsewhere. Ah, I should really know this by now... Kashay wished to see Thorn for herself. The two of them seemed like they had a lot to say to one another... I think last time I checked, she was still sleeping on the carpeted floor, within the Sanctum. Best go check on her right away, least she collides with a pot-plant or something. Kashay shall be fine, but the poor plant might not be as lucky.

To end this record, I... suppose I had to admit that I just may had been wrong, about Wren. True, she can be a truly insufferable creature at times, but am I truly any better? Speaking to Amae had planted a seed of doubt within me, and the events of the past night confirmed it even more. She risked her position, allowing Keys and I to save Rasad's hide, even if we may or may not had tried to brake into the holding cells to do so. I owed her an apology. Had a chance to speak with Keys in proper before I left. Bright kid, with a good head on her shoulders... She seemed oddly interested about the Deadlands, but... in truth, that's understandable. Now, back to my sheep, no? Or... the patients. Ugh! Curse you, Afer, for I am turning into a bloody mind-healer, or the like!

Edited Aug 23, 2017 at 07:58 PM by 0

Emilia of CamlornAug 25, 2017

Aug 25, 2017 at 08:10 PM #11

~Entry No. 10~

*the entry is made in an oddly-formal style, contrasting with the rather personal records prior. The writing done in a brisk, steady handwriting*

Rasad's psyche continues to deteriorate at an exponential rate. While I was marginally successful in identifying and removing the blood-clot, clearly responsible for the prior loss of visual senses, his cognitive functions seem to had relapse into a complete dissolution of a personality matrix. At present, there seems to be at least two distinct mental entities, resulted from a personality split. The exact cause is still unknown. Upon examining the subject's journal which ~~was unethical in every sense and fashion, but plough it, saving his arse is more important then a few lousy rules no?~~ it became apparent that the man was subject to a long-term psychological trauma. His grasp of the concept of reality had steadily declined, as the journal entries indicated inability to distinguish the past, the dream, and the reality apart. It seemed that the subject exhibited occasional glimpses of lucidity, being able to recognize voices/visual stimuli.

His new-found state of agitation, and aggression is an unexpected development. Following a usual observation, the subject lunged at me, grappling me by the throat with a clear intent of harm. However, timely intervention of the Senior Healers Aliijham and Estre had deterred him from any further actions. While the subject was rendered tranquil, and transferred into a heavily-warded section of the clinic (the exact diagram of the fourth-iteration array used should be easy to provide, if safe dismantling is required), Ali and I had a chance to observe him further. The subject's ravings are not the typical gibberish of a lunatic, instead making a rather frightening amount of sense. Aliijham and I agreed that whatever is the case, Arcane tempering with the subject's psyche is the likely culprit for his cognitive degeneration. We retreated to my Librarium, in order to pursue further inquiries.

After consulting with several fellow Arcanists specializing in the field of Illusion, I came to conclusion that the subject is likely experiencing some sort of subliminal backlash. Further observation is required, however it is safe to stipulate that inducing the subject into the state of relaxed consciousness via hypnosis may be the best route to bypass the mire of his tattered psyche, and deal with the base cognitive functions instead. Such a procedure will require aid from the Healers, with Estre and Aliijham making best choices due to their involvement and familiarity with the issue. I do not believe the subject is safe for transportation, thus the option of utilizing my Laboratory is void. We will make do with what we have...

P.S: "Kill the Raven"... "twisted bond concealed beneath a smile cold..."... I cannot help it, but wonder if these are not some random words, yet some sort of induced response to a specific stimuli. Several times, the subject had became aggressively agitated with seemingly no external aggravation, save for the conversation we had with Healer Aliijham. Hm... this bears further investigation.

P.P.S: I would kill for a bottle of Alik'r Rum. This tome on the Subliminal techniques is worse then an old tract on Runic Attenuation... and I had almost threw the damned thing into the fire...

Emilia of CamlornSep 06, 2017

Sep 06, 2017 at 07:35 PM #12

~Entry No. 11~

It had been a while since I had the time to just... sit down, and gather my thoughts. Oh, nothing necessarily bad, just... busy. In truth, I would rather have that over continuous idleness. Inability to focus on some sort of productive matter, in conjunction to being left alone with the demons of one's past, is a proven formula for disaster...

Did I mentioned I seem to had acquired a new friend? A massive mass of white fur and teeth, yet a soul oddly gentle for such a beast. Her injuries were grand, yet with Wren's aid we were able to tend to the worst of it. In a spur of the moment, I named her Nim'arwen... the white lady. Or Nim, for simplicity's sake. Presumptuous, I know... but surely a Sorceress can get away with just a little, no?

That bitch-born had finally made a slip. While I know I should be horrified at the sheer insidiousness of what she had done to Rasad... and I am, I also cannot help but feel a sense of glee wash over me. This, this was the mistake I was waiting for months, the brake in the chain of defeats I had suffered at her hands. Time to turn the tables... and my new-found ally is eager, to say the least. Speaking of allies...

Rasad had confessed his feelings to me. Again. Stars, whatever should I do with the man... Is it foolishness, or mere stubborn pride that prevent him from accepting my response? I admire the man, true... but I cannot grant him the thing he seems to desire so desperately. Maybe because my eyes already rest elsewhere, and had done so for quite a while?

Damit Bethany, get this lunacy out of your head! Of all the people, you ought to know that 'love' is but a temporary illusion, a beautiful one while it lasts... but one that leaves a lasting, bitter aftertaste once the illusion is cruelly shattered. If I truly cherish the mer, I should do my damnest to stay away from him. And yet, why is it so hard to do... Once, my will had almost faltered. Once, I was mere moments away from kissing him... Kriff! No, nononononono... I am NOT stepping on this Dwemeri mine... not again! If anything, he needs a friend more then any sort of paramour at this point. I had promised to help him... and I shall do just that.

P.S: I don't know what in Oblivion came over me. Love? Pfff... the likes of me do not get to 'live, happily ever after'. Even if we may get a castle...

P.P.S: Just as I started to build up my positive connections with Wren... I don't even want to think of the backlash, had I failed to keep my idiotic heart in check.

~the last part was hastily scratched over with a quill, leaving a few ink drops nearby~

Edited Sep 06, 2017 at 07:39 PM by 0