Journal of the damned

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DarkDreamer
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Journal of the damned

Post by DarkDreamer » Fri Dec 29, 2017 10:58 am

// Image found here - http://images.animalpicturesociety.com/ ... c-wolf.jpg




Goldir sat on the edge of the chair, such a thing was always strange to him. Looking on the desk to the new journal he had bought in Anundor with his savings he could only sigh. An elf of his age should be revered, seen as an elder. Instead, he was damned, a monster, and hated by everyone he originally thought cared. I accepted damnation, accepted a family that would truly love and cherish me, but at what price exactly? Disavowment from my former mentor? Hunted by Jadoth and the entire surface? Seen as some great monster? Why? because I chose I wanted for once in my life to have a family? To have someone truly care for me no matter what? His eyes focused back on the book, the one that would mark his past and his future, maybe one day he would look back on it all and laugh, but he truly doubted it. He leaned forward picking up the quill in his hand, gods did it feel weird after being accustomed to paws for four hundred years. Writing this would be slow and difficult, and he only had four hours until Malar would force him back into his wolven form.

I am not gonna write this and pretend I was any different then I am now, I wasn't outgoing, I wasn't a great conversationalist, I wasn't anything that stood out in the crowd. Nor did I want to be. I was happier simply wandering the forest and the trees, being out with the animals. Perhaps its why I survived, or perhaps it was just horrible luck, or perhaps Malar chose me even then to damn. I had been out late, likely to be in trouble with my mother and was still only casually walking back to the dens when I first heard the howl. It sounded like a wolf but bigger, louder and more menacing. Moments later the scream that followed tore through me like a knife as I started running for the den. I remember something hitting me, then blacking out and waking the next morning.

Needless to say the presence of the drowess infront of me scared the daylights out of me. Yet only when I looked around did I realize I wasn't in my den. Infact I was nowhere near my den. I was in a village of drow. I was soon informed that I was in a village of Eilistraeen drow who had been hunting a large pack of werewolves that raided my den the other night. I was the only survivor of the massacre that happened there and only as the female infront of me had knocked me out before I could reach them. They had managed to slaughter most of the pack in return, but the alpha and a few others had escaped, leaving only a bloody mess and Malars symbol in their wake.

It was hard getting over their deaths, but it set me on a new path as well, one the sisters encouraged. I hated Malar, I wanted to destroy him and his beasts and they were all to happy to help me learn. Over the forty years I spent with them, I learned to dance with them, to fight with a scimitar and how to grow as a druid. When the time for me to leave came, they gifted me a silver scimitar and wished me all the luck in the realms. How a part of me wishes I had stayed with the sisters.

I traveled the realms hunting lycanthropes, making a name for myself in killing them and Malar's priests. I was a feared name in their temples, or so I like to think. I spent a good two hundred years hunting those foul beasts before my bad luck would catch up with me. I had been wandering through the forests when I spotted a druid, being new to the area I decided to use them to get local lore and details of the surrounding area. They instead told me of a rumor of a huge werewolf prowling around a small village, children had been going missing and were presumed dead. Enraged at this, I quickly headed off to go slay the beast.

I found what I was looking for, the beast was huge though, even for a werewolf. It was nearly ten feet in size and a deep silver in color. I had never seen anything like it, though the blood on its maw and the mess at its feet were a good indication that it was indeed what I was hunting. As I drew my blade, it refused to come at me. Foolishly dismissing it as having caught the beast off guard I lunged it and began fighting it. The fight felt as if it had gone on forever, it biting, clawing and ripping at me, I slashing, and cutting back at it in a fervor trying to kill it without being infected myself in the process. Eventually, either by luck or by fate, my blade sank deep between its ribs ending the beasts life, which is where everything went horribly wrong.

As its blood spilled into the earth beneath our feet, the wind suddenly picked up, sounding like a deafening howl. I found myself unable to move as the wind ripped the dirt from around my feet digging out what appeared to be an old altar buried deep in the dirt. An altar, of Malar. Suddenly filled with dread I tried to get off the altar but could not. Pain ripped through me as my scimitar dropped to the altar with a clank, then a hiss as it literally melted. Screaming in pain I soon found myself on my hands and knees, only to realize, they weren't hands and knees anymore, but paws. Four of them. A dark laughter filled the air before the silence set in. I quickly realized I could still speak, but a voice I couldn't make out made a point of telling me, now I would suffer for my sins, no kin would ever accept me, and I was doomed to forever remain a wolf.

I fled quickly to the nearest elven village, the very one I had hoped to save from the werewolf menace, only to be quickly shot at and run off. I went to village after village, town after town, some just running me off as a wild animal, others calling me some witch, or fearing my curse would pass onto them. I was completely alone and outcasted from all elven kind. So I wandered alone. Slipping in and out where I could, making due where I could in travel for the next four hundred years wandering alone. Boarding a random boat brought me to a strange place though, and thats where the next part of my life begins.

Feeling the pain returning, Goldir looks up from his writing, four hours had passed swiftly as he focused on his writing. Setting the book away in a hidden nook he sighed once more getting off the chair. Glancing to Amanda sleeping safely on the bed nearby, he couldn't help but smile. At least he would have someone warm to curl up beside at the very worst. That and she had a wonderful habit of hugging him and rubbing his fur even in her sleep. The pain suddenly growing far more intense, he whimpered painfully trying to subdue the urge to scream in pain that would wake Amanda and likely bring Delano in running to check on him. No, he had to control the pain. Managing to force the scream down, he shook on four wobbly legs a moment before hopping up on the bed beside Amanda, curling under her arm and falling asleep, allowing her to comfort him once more.


Last edited by DarkDreamer on Sun Dec 31, 2017 9:33 am, edited 2 times in total.

DarkDreamer
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Re: Journal of the damned

Post by DarkDreamer » Sun Dec 31, 2017 7:05 am

He looked up at the dim candle light, sore, tired yet he couldn't find reverie, the images of his last encounter with Jantira, the Archdruid and even Jadoth kept coming to his mind as he again let out a pained sigh. He slowly pulled out his journal, looking to where he he had left off, again picking up the strange quill in his hand as he struggled to grip it properly, dipping it in the ink he set to writing once more, a slow and focused pace, though quiet not to wake anyone.

My first days in Arelith were ones of confusion and intrigue. Rosalie Raynor was Chancellor then and was also leading the Temple of the Triad for the time being. I miss that woman though thinking back on her. After gathering up enough courage, and managing to gather up a small bit of coin, I speedied her and asked her to meet me at the Arcane Tower as I figured it would be better then a strange wolf approaching her at her Temple. I had sent it as Goldir, not explaining what I was or why. I was happy when she came. She was rather taken aback by a talking wolf, but to her credit, she sat down on the bench and heard me out. I told her everything of my story, and that I just wanted a writ to come to Cordor. After some time to think, she gave me one and asked me to keep out of trouble which I gladly agreed to.

I kept a low profile, wandering the streets when I could, helping the guards if they asked and looking after the local plant life. It was a simple enough time, but like everything else, time eluded me. For a few years I stuck to the forest, poking in and out as needed. When I finally checked in again, Rosalie was gone entirely, and a Shauna Flanagan had taken Chancellorship, she wasn't a bad woman, seemed troubled, but friendly enough. She gave me my second writ, but by then I had begun wandering out further, I had made a friend in Bendir named Ivory, she gave me a writ to Bendir so I didn't have to worry in the future about my visits. During this time I also met the grove mother, whose name sadly escapes me, she started trying to help me with my curse, she also introduced me to my future mentor Jantira who when she retired would go on to be Archdruid.

She sadly retired not too long after I met her and I was left with Jantira. He was a strange one but I was soon endeared by his compassion for my cause and how much life he put into the Grove and everything he was willing to do for it. He tried originally to petition Myon to help me lift my curse, having me tell them my story. I was basically laughed out of Myon, them either accusing me of lying or that it was all in my head. Jantira and I soon gave up that persuit and he began to understand why I was generally forsaken by other elves for my curse. He focused himself into helping me and performed two major rituals to try and remove it, sadly if any good came from it, it is what is permitting me to write this out today. I can take my elven form again for six hours a day, by sheer will. It is an extensively painful shift, and I try not to do it often, mostly for spells, or now writing.

A strained groan escapes the druid as he looks up with a sigh, he was out of time once more, it was time to return to wolf form. He looked over to Amanda who was busy toying with something,
perhaps she would enjoy spending some time with him. He set aside the book casually before growling in pain as he released the focus required to stay in elven form and reverted to his wolven form. It always felt better this way.

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Re: Journal of the damned

Post by DarkDreamer » Mon Jan 01, 2018 11:42 am

// OOC Song reference that best suits the character at this point: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GLQs0OrHiPY

A scream echoed from within the very walls of the Outpost bedrooms, one of fear, confusion and a moments panic, Goldir sat upright looking around and as he suddenly gained the clarity of where he was, a soft sob escaped him, shifting to his elven form by utter force of will, he quietly thanked Auril that Delano and Amanda were out, likely hunting again. Settling against a wall he pulled out his journal, wiping away the tears he gripped the quill in hand and started writing once again.

When I came back around again, I learned that Feluka was gone, she had killed herself unable to handle the pain anymore. I am beginning to understand why she did it to be very honest. Jantira introduced me to Vrin, whom would become the next Archdruid, I helped vote her in and was announced as an Elder of the grove as well. She eventually left as well, though I am not sure as to where. One day while hunting I moved to take a portal, though I am no longer sure where I was going, I wound up in Anundor. The city of the Drow. I hunted for a very long while trying to find my way out, but unfortunately ran into a drow first. His name was Tinax'zar. I tried to escape him, to flee, even managed to escape the city, but he cut me down and I woke back up with a collar around my neck.

He tried to pretend he was gonna be my friends, getting me to learn Undercommon and Xanalress, promising me a good life if I served him loyally, he also completely forbade me to speak to anyone in common, only bark at them like a lowlife dog. I obeyed as I could, but I wanted out. I tried to get in contact with those on the surface as soon as I was able, and some made so many promises that they would help me. I even met a drow down there who offered to help me get the collar off, and like them, she never came. No one did, all pretty words even when I begged and pleaded, no one bothered. I met one drow who was very decent, Aly'arra, she wasnt cruel, or mean, she seemed to need a friend as much as I did, so I took the time to get close with her, and it paid off. I like to think she at least marginally trusts me. I try to help her where I can. Even managed to get her Tinax's house and shop when he vanished.

I was starting to lose faith in getting the collar off, I couldn't manage two of the challenges on my own and no one was coming to help me. They would promise me the world that they were gonna help, but no one ever came for it regardless of how much I begged and pleaded. Then an offer came to me, Amanda told me about Delano. That he had helped her, and may help me, though I knew it would come with a price, though I didn't expect the price. Simply it was to join his family. I had to be completely and one hundred percent willing to join. He explained that I would feed from him, and him from me, and in that we would become family.

Given I am a wolf that eats raw meat, this was a minor request to be fair. Really seeing no other options, no one to turn to, and the draw of actually having family that would truly care about me again, I gave in to him. I so badly wanted what he could offer. Could it have been a trick? Sure it could have, but it wasn't. Delano stepped up to help me with everything. He protects me no matter what, he even stormed into Cordor for me when I learned Alara was dying and all everyone wanted to do was scream at me for nothing. He truly has become my brother in all senses.

I wound up confessing this to Jantira, expecting him to keep it to himself and that we could continue on, sadly this wasn't to pass, even he betrayed me, disowned me, told everyone he knew and had me exiled from the grove. I lost my touch with Silvanus, but found Auril waiting for me. I am fully an outcast from the surface. Hunted by Jadoth and the others that would hate me for having to make a choice whether or not I wanted it. I chose to survive. I just wish now the nightmares that I thought I had long buried had passed. People hunting me, looking to hurt me, visions of my mangled body, Malars cold laughter, except the biggest change is the two standing infront of the mob,the ones doing the most damage to me. Jantira and Jadoth. Both of them are the ones going out of their way to cause me the most pain, both laughing at me, and each time they bring their weapons down for the final painful blow, I wake up screaming.

I have always wanted family, close friends that will do anything to help me and keep me safe and warm. It is truly sad that the only place across the realms that I have truly found this, is in Delano and Amanda. We are the forgotten, we are the damned. ~Goldir

He looked at the last line of the entry and let out a slow sigh, careful not to smudge the ink. Slowly closing it and setting it back on the shelf he leaned more against the wall rubbing his head. He hated the pain that echoed through his heart, but what could he do? If he was truly unwanted anywhere but down here, then he was obligated to remain so. He was truly an outcast from society in mind and body. Hearing boots on the steps and only able to hope it was Delano or Amanda returning from the hunt, he released his focus on his elven form shifting back to a wolf. All he knew now, is he would show them all why it was a mistake to betray him, they would suffer the same as they had made him suffer. Then they would understand.


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Re: Journal of the damned

Post by DarkDreamer » Mon Apr 09, 2018 5:38 pm

The old wolf looked out over the fallen snow, so fresh and white as well....most of his fur, looked out over Bendir, his home, his den, his pack. He'd been ill for some weeks now, but didn't have the heart to tell Merry, he knew she would fret, but he knew the truth, and honestly, he was scared of it. The long sleep as many called it. He was old, very old even for his elven blood. Yet he was an outsider, an outcast that would be forgotten by his own kin within days of his passing. Yet deep down, he knew Merry would never forget him. She had adopted him into the pack when he finally fled Delano and the servitude he had blindly accepted. He wanted to be close to her, he felt loved by her, he had all he wanted. Family. He could die happy with all he had, even with no real material possessions. He looked down from the ridge once more feeling the spring breeze that ruffled through his fur, Winter was over, life was renewing itself once more and with it, another was coming to its close.

He would have to tell Merry soon, as much as he was trying to avoid it. He could feel the strength leaving his legs more and more each day, he had no appetite to eat. He watched her with her pack as she led Bendir with great pride. She was a good Den Mother, she cared for all the pups of her den. Gathering up his strength once more he loped off to the Ancient Tree that stood there and once more focused, allowing himself to appear in the upper branches as he looked over to Myon, his...kin...there were not many there he would miss...one or two maybe. One was already dead...perhaps he would meet Alara on the other side finally free of pain?

His gaze turned to the Druids Grove, thinking of Xellree, how much they were alike, but how much he had never been given the chance to be a brother. He could remember each meeting, the tension, the anger and often the confusion. How much he wanted Xellree to like him, to want him as a brother, to be part of his pack and learn from him, but no...it would never be.

His eyes again shifted out to the Weather Stone..Jantira...once his mentor, once his friend...who betrayed and abandoned him. He didn't hate him, he wasn't even sure he could, Jantira wasn't the first to abandon him after all, he was quite used to it. He just wished that maybe....Jantira had tried harder to reach him...to be the teacher and maybe even parent he needed. Though perhaps that was selfish.

His eyes then shifted to the Arcane Tower...So many memories there...Feluka...a sister who ended her own life, Jadoth...a moody young kin that was as quick to smile as slit your throat, he reminded me so much of myself, so lost and confused and hurt. He would have been a good wolf.

His eyes shifted once again to Cordor, the start of this grand adventure here. So many things had happened since he swam to shore that day. I miss Rosalie, I miss the people I knew then in those days, Shauna too. They knew how to understand me and generally seemed to care for people.

His eyes finally drift back to Bendir...Ivory..my old friend...the oldest I can recall still around. Shes a good one, one that kept in contact even when I was in the Underdark. Ivory will always be close to my heart, as will Bendir. I have decided once and for all when I leave this realm, I want to be in Bendir, among my family and friends...those that truly cared for me. Myons nice with the ideals of kin....but they never truly cared for me. They won't miss me.

Climbing back down the tree he moved back to Bendir, and back into Merrys home, his strength gone and spent as he felt a light coldness seeping in. He would have to tell her in the morning, there was no choice left. At least he would get to be with her one last time.




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