The Wizard Olxrith

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Hour
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The Wizard Olxrith

Post by Hour » Wed Dec 30, 2015 3:52 am

I remember vividly my first trip to Blingdenstone, even now I can see the winding passageway up to the massive stone doors, those stairs, the long single piece of stone that was dotted by fierce and tiny sentries. In that distant memory I had thought it another Halruaa, and I pitied them utterly and completely for they were akin to another displaced people I knew keenly the struggles of, living in a temporary home on borrowed time. It was long in my journey, and perhaps in my blissful glee for freedom my discipline for the academic was lost. Days bled into weeks, weeks into months, I had simply reveled in my freedom, a creature of the desert and it's caves. Practicing, writing, sleeping. Beyond the shattered ruins of Netheril there was food for those who could find it, and safety for those who could hide, or run. When I found the cave that lead me to the home of the svirfneblin I was hardly in my right mind, crazed to the point of dementia thinking I had found the answer to Karsus' failure.

How vain I was in my insanity.
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The Wizard Olxrith

Post by Hour » Mon Jan 04, 2016 8:15 am

How vastly different the tunnels seemed when I departed Blingdenstone, and again I found myself alone on the road to the surface. Alone, except for the rare occasion Noctua came to my side on that every other day- a long time ago I had learned to filter out the Sylph's egoistic prattle, and rare were the occasions my flighty friend spoke words of merit. But we have an understanding, a silent bond of deep friendship I don't think I could ever hope to achieve with any human.

I recall the first time I had left Blingdenstone, feeling so small to the world beyond Halarahh, so small to the many many mysteries I had left to discover. At the time hermits of my nature weren't exactly accepted at many of the smaller settlements, and the typical reputation of the wandering magi was never a good one.

Theodore bid me live by my principles, and if anything were to be followed it was the words of my kindly mentor, little did he know the path I'd started down upon acting on his ever-sound advice. Even now as each new ruin crests on the horizon, anticipation quickens my steps and his words sound in my mind, a happy echo of how things could have been had I stayed sequestered far within candlekeep.
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The Wizard Olxrith

Post by Hour » Thu Jan 07, 2016 1:05 pm

Often is the time I find myself reflecting on the teachings my mentor laid out for me in that breezy little cottage upon mount Talath. Even more so now with the positions I find myself advancing in, I could do very little without the few good friends of a kind I've gained upon these isles, and as of late I find myself testing the patience of just a few. As a very powerful Wizard once said--

"Inquisitiveness is admired by the People (elves), but rude investigation is not, and ye'd crack the shell of a dragon turtle with your teeth sooner than gain secrets from a slighted elf."

Ironically, I may have found myself beheld with contempt in the eyes of an elvish friend, of an elvish friend. I would like to believe I am rather hard to anger, luckily it is not often this is proven false. I took a great deal of time reflecting on the mannerisms of that particular elf and perhaps, realized it was not him I had grown so angry at.

'Maybe it was that dashing and glorious Zankas' I had thought, in my fit, that too was wrong. Theodore imbued a principle in me, one I believe I have lived by thoroughly the entirety of my life. Be critical, be analytical, but above all-- accept. Or perhaps that is what I perceived him to teach? Perhaps my own experiences with acceptance would lead me to believe such a thing?

As the night grows longer I ponder the last few words he left me.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Perhaps I will grow used to such a lack of sleep?
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The Wizard Olxrith

Post by Hour » Sun Jan 10, 2016 2:38 pm

"It is a source of constant consternation that my opponents cannot correlate their innate inferiority with their inevitable defeat. Knowing this, It would seem that stupidity is as eternal as the weave."

I think, during my meager lifespan I've worked under a great many Magi. Probably too many, in my younger years in Halarahh, after Theodore plucked me from the streets I was akin to a sponge, always finding myself in the presence of a Wizard or practicing spellcaster of some sort and always trying to comprehend in bounds what it was they had to teach.

Perhaps it is from them these great aspirations of mine grow? In my mind's eye I can recall almost all of my various mentors, all powerful to some degree in their own right, and of varying degrees of arrogance. However none bested the ability or wisdom of my companion, and teacher Theodore, and while they may have been mentors, or acquaintances I don't think they could hold the smallest of arcane flames to the first friendship I ever had.

I find myself growing temperamental as of late, if it's for my own impatience in my studies-- or how slow things progress around me I hardly know. I know it only a spell, for I can recall fondly the quiet teachings of the mountain cottage's inner sanctum, and when I do I find myself feeling almost serene.

I do know I had tread rather roughly on Zankas' patience recently, so I'll make it up to him the next time we meet-- I've grown rather fond of doting on my various friends, the few relics I obtained from the Anauroch desert and I am ever glad for this, for holding onto all manner of relics and artifacts is the nature of those few Magi the company of I despised, and the further I push myself from their obsessive principles the better I feel.



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The Wizard Olxrith

Post by Hour » Sun Jan 31, 2016 1:52 am

It has been a long while since I've written in this particular section, mayhap for the days that blend into one another? Perhaps for the work I strive tirelessly to complete.

Detached. That's the term one used to refer to me recently I'm not sure whether or not I like it, they said it was abnormal for me to show no anger towards those who have 'supposedly' wronged me. Perhaps I am? Or perhaps the value I place on knowledge, and gain, considerably higher then the value I place on revenge, or emotion.

I believe-- *A smudge.*

No-- I know such principles cannot be denied success.
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The Wizard Olxrith

Post by Hour » Sat Sep 03, 2016 9:30 am

It is funny the way your perceptions can change. For awhile I loathed change, I loathed merely allowing the winds of fate to take me wherever it was they wished. I wouldn't say I'm less ambitious, perhaps more patient? Perhaps my long time in Candlekeep truly did instill some virtue into me. Maybe I've become lazier for it?

That wouldn't be a bad thing.

I studied everything, I poured over every little detail that caught my interest, every matter concerning the arcane, my vaguest of curiosities-- and the darkest of 'secrets'. When I thought I could learn no more I climbed into the highest tower, sipped tea, slept for long stretches, and then wandered the deep archives for so long and so far, I lost track of time.

I scaled a high peak in thought, when I'd finally thought I'd discovered something pivotal regarding my research, that had become so drawn out, so painful, a mountain! I had scaled it alone with barely any mind, lived off the land using magic alone without giving it even a moment of regard.

At that moment I realized the wandering... the wild abandon, oh how I loved it. I loved nature, I loved being free of my ambition, my ceaseless desire, my vapid hatred and impatience toward the unending goal I was sure to never even see! Oh I'd forgotten all the strides I'd made for just a moment towards that unending, impossible pursuit, and it was pure bliss.

I returned to Candlekeep that day a different man, my studies no longer drew into tedium, my research no longer grated upon my patience. My curiosity for all things in the world was renewed, and I honestly could not quantify why.

So every day I wandered, further and further from Candlekeep, deeper and deeper into the woodland and the mountains, until one day I endeavoured to leave for good. Now I return to the search, is my ambition dulled? Hah! hardly. I still see the object of my desire pulling itself free from the sands when I close my eyes...

...but now, I feel joy along with it.

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Re: The Wizard Olxrith

Post by Hour » Sat Sep 03, 2016 9:42 am

*A briefly scribbled note dots the corner of the page, scrawled clearly as the Magus had laid his head down to rest.*

As an aside, how humorous is it most of my former enemies have gone and vanquished themselves?
As another, how sad is it all my friends have vanished to the stretch of time or mystery? Quite sad indeed.

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Re: The Wizard Olxrith

Post by Hour » Fri Feb 24, 2017 1:18 pm

It is not often I open this dusty old tome, I had kept a record of my time across the spine of the world, but it did little justice to my unending labor. After my last attempt in those particular studies I found myself disheartened. I am not an unreasonable nor hasty person, I would even say I am but a tad wiser than your average fool. However like all creatures my patience has bounds, though they stretch intangible far into the horizon, they do eventually come to an end.

So again I find myself on a great wooden vessel with a motley, mixed crew, from every walk of life, from Unthalass to Silverymoon, Calimport to Shoun and Nathoud ...and they awe and ooh at the stories I recount for them upon supper, the younger eyes light up at elementary dweomers and cantrips, the elder deckhands chuckle in surprise at verse to songs from ages past they thought forgotten.

And my ship sails on towards the little island of Arelith once more.

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Re: The Wizard Olxrith

Post by Nour » Tue Mar 13, 2018 10:50 am

Theo once told me one's dictation oft reflects the intent of the writer. What does then, the scribblings of a paltry arcanist-- when he submits to entries every tenday, or every... ten years, tell of him?

Perhaps of a lifespan far longer than it ought to be.

When I leaf to this section of my journal, even now-- in the depths of Calimport, a liveliness is brought to me. I recall the generations of friends I have lost, while I have persisted-- I recall, distinctly, Owain's banal babble, (that I became so endeared to) I recall Winters, the great Blue Dragon I once knew-- and his servants (as 'foul' as they were). I recall Roxite, and the crack I made at her expense, (the woman did so enjoy pie). I recall the deep Arcane summons I have partaken, the quests that ran afoul, the deeds of which! ...I am likely not chronicled within.

I remember the... was it, third, Silvearms? Sundering a great evil, and the-- horrible pain of attempting a grasp and subsequent manipulation of the weatherstone I so -feebly- managed.

I remember, a time in which my own composition was considered with a measure of respect for it's depth. Now with a blade on my belt, and my mind full of nostalgic memory, I again veil my face from a generation that could not possibly hope to recall this particular scribe.

I hope only I am able to guide a few, offer a bit of patience, education and perhaps, if anyone cares to listen-- some long winded tales of days long past.


*Scrawled in the margins is a little blurb of cursive, as though an afterthought.*

As an aside-- I can only wonder if the halfling held onto the trinket I entrusted him with. I would... loathe, see it fall into hands any less... kindly? Perhaps naive.

In another breath, I only hope it has been utterly destroyed.


If such a thing is possible.

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