21 Aug 19, 15:25 pm » Welcome, Guest. Please login or register.

Netheril : Age of Magic

Please login or register.

Author Topic: Sherina Tsirak - A Memory Book  (Read 811 times)


  • Citizen
  • *
  • Posts: 48
  • Baby Nugget
    • View Profile
Re: Sherina Tsirak - A Memory Book
« Reply #15 on: August 02, 2019, 07:32:46 pm »

Truths in the Abyss

I told Ash about the Wish spell. His reply was, that even if we got him back, got back my dearest husband... He will be executed for murder, as he had just recently been through a similar court process regarding Fae. It’s horrible. This way, there’s truly nothing I can do.
I... I don’t want to keep running away all the time. I can’t. can’t go on. I can’t keep up, can’t keep running, rushing and stressing all the time... I will keep the memories of me and my love. Some days have passed, and without me knowing it, all became calmer. Not sure how, not sure why. The grief and sadness are still crushing... but I feel it crumbling, bit by bit, like a thick stone layer. Bit by bit the pieces are falling off, revealing my heart purified by the tears. I feel... almost freedom, and ever-present peace. And at the same time, I feel so, so horrible for ever feeling such a thing.
I told Ash about my difficult state as well... he seems to understand properly and well. His consolation was what I needed at the moment, and the suggestion to allow myself to feel... good. Simply good.
Later, Ash and I went to see Michael’s grave. Ash said his last words to his friend and comrade. Based on his last words, he was the first to propose the soul trade contract to the devil Nuzu – which was later used on Michael, now keeping his soul forever bound in the nine hells. In the grasp of his master, fighting the endless blood war.
After we returned to Hadrian, with Ash protecting me along the way, he had to leave for some work regarding the Society. No wonder, it’s an inn and an organization in one – of course, it demands a lot of time investment from its headmaster.
Unexpectedly, after I sat down on the bench close to the Coin, I could hear the conversation of some people. I didn’t care much, people talk all the time. And especially in this state, I couldn’t bother to look and care, even if they might’ve been my friends.
But then a name was spoken.
My attention perked up as I listened further, and took a look at whoever was saying it. Morgaine. Morgaine just expressed that based on her opinion, opinion of a person who’ve met him TWICE in the whole months after him and I returned from Sullivans – based on an opinion of that person HE APPARENTLY was selfish!
He was troubled, yes. He had a hard time controlling his rage and anger, yes. But don’t we all have a character flaw?! His ones were those which people took as a whole part of his personality, and didn’t care for anything else! If anyone was selfish, it was all his ‚old friends‘, not caring a bit about the massive changes in his mind and heart.
I moved swiftly and stood two inches behind her. Breathing. Thinking about Michael. How unfair this all is. How I wish nothing of that day happened.
But now I’m here.
Listening to all the people ridiculing the man who gave the most to me, in all areas. ... I stepped back.
Afterward, with Joriin I talked about strengthening my staff – the one Michael, my love, carved for me when he was still alive in this realm. The mage proposed using dragon’s blood, fire giant blood and something to do with the Fire Plane. The days get blurry currently, I have a hard time remembering stuff when I spend more than half of the day swimming in the pale waters of the past.
I then corrected Morgaine and explained her more about Michael. Not like it changes anything. We then talked about other, mostly work-related stuff, since now I’m her spellmaiden.
Feeling the need to see the grave again, I walked to the place beyond the brook of the East River Crossing. I got a few bolts from the bandits, nothing I cared about at this point. They might as well have me, my life lacks feelings currently.
I saw some nasturtium flowers, few of them I picked to set down on the grave, and as usual, left a sweet cake on the memorial to my love.
Upon arrival back to the Society hall, I was greeted by Ash, and we went on and sat on the cushions by the fireplace. Such thing reminds me of home... home I’m not sure I can return to anymore.
We talked and shared things, I had to let my tears flow freely again. I wanted to keep my helmet on, as I try to do all the time lately. But I couldn’t function, so after apologizing, I took it off. And Ashes eyes went wide with worry and horror – since now I can’t look into any mirror without seeing Michael hugging my pale body from behind, I’ve been evading them completely. He seemed direly concerned, and then he spoke. It seems I’ve forgotten to eat again. Nhh... The truth of the matter is, that the last meal I remember is the breakfast with Uldur... and that was... I don’t know.
Though during our conversation, Ash swore he saw a glimpse of myself. I believe him, I simply barely feel anything besides the obvious. Sorrow and guilt.
After a bit of a chat later, we decided to take a walk to Hilltop. Nature is charming as usual, its serenity and beauty flicker through the thick veil that enwraps me. It is nice.
At the Hilltop, Ash treated me to food – halflings are amazing cooks, and the hearty meals were as tasty as they were filling. It was fun, and relaxing, as we talked about... normal things, day-to-day stuff. In the end, I told him my thanks, and that I feel more ‚here‘.
In his words, regrettably, he knows exactly what I meant.

Looking for a company to keep me in check, I stumbled upon Belorfin, having a sole time at the Coin square. I don’t know what I’ve been talking about, it’s all swirly and a blur. I remember grabbing a sweet cake slice, then heading there...
And then Ash holding me by my wrists, and a strong, intense pain all over my thighs and hips. It was worse with every movement and every breath, tearing at my skin and sending a searing pain throughout my tired body. Ash then spoke harshly and coldly, which got me moving mindlessly forward. He and Bel used healing wands on me, otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to move out of that place. Out of his place.
I left the slice of cake there. Good. As it should be.
At the Society hall, they both seemed to be nervous about what happened. Thankfully, Belorfin explained the sorcerous part of me to Ash – that is didn’t have to be intentional to happen. Which is true, that emotions override the sorcerous abilities. I never wanted to take my life, I never wanted to throw away all Michael fought for and sacrificed for.
I’ve been taken to Sullivans by Ash, who then left me there in Vivi’s company. She treated the scars I got from the devil, and we snuggled for a moment. Then I’ve shown her the cave Michael and I used to reside in back, back long ago. The peaceful times of living at the edge of the jungle.
Meeting with Uldur far later, he’s shown me a well-hidden grate trapdoor close to the rowboat in the Hadrian outskirts. Inside was a rust monster, and a massive boulder blocking the crater-like hole in the floor. I shattered the boulder and we took a look down... seeing nothing at all. While we waited to see whether it’s a monster den or not, I sang. I sand to him the same song I hummed to Ash several weeks ago, the one the melody of which both Ash and Michael liked.
And now, for the second time, I sang. Softly and carefully.
“Salve your war-sickened, shattered-glass soul”
“Let down your arms and defenses”
“Leave your weapons behind at long last”
“And forgive others their offenses”
“Soon, our troubles will be overcome”
“And our ever-long struggles shall cease”
“Ere long, our upside-down world will turn right”
“and in time, we’ll bring about… peace.”

Tears streamed down my face... The same song made Michael talk about how he wants to have me healed, then travel and then retire from the life of violence and struggle, the world of the fight.
Uldur and I talked for a time and left shortly after. He told me about the troubles he’s facing with his frail, aged body, and that he might lose memory when attaching himself to a new host. And asked me to write a chronicle about Michael’s life. That he always wants to remember his friend. Oh, Uldur Uldur. So lovely, kind and pure. I’m happy they were friends. Close friends.
Both of them have a place in my heart.
Uldur took me home. The real home. I kept telling him various things, from experiences to facts to memories. Of how Michael dived into the cushions the first day we cam from Sullivans and yelled out with joy, of how my carving of this very house started the movement towards his recovery to full health. Of how Michael and I were hanging up the wreath above the stairway, me sitting on Michael’s shoulder while he kept me up, holding me by my side and thighs while I put the wreath on the wall. Of how gentle, caring and breathtaking my honeymoon was.
Uldur is going to live with me if I will decide to return to this house. And he promised he is going to be with me for as long as he has to, for as long as I need him to.
Thank you. Dear Uldur.

I went to see Vivi the day before, we had a short, but nice time. I dozed off on the forest floor, waking up with Pattie guarding me the whole night. Bestest girl.
A few hours later, Uldur and I went to clean the house. It was dusty, and in a dire need of a thorough cleanse. Fortunately, Uldur seems to have a natural knack for sweeping the floors, and the rest was up to me. We managed wonderfully, and then as we were ready to take a minute to rest – A GOBLIN FELL IN THROUGH THE CHIMNEY!
Running around in mayhem and panic, I quickly casted Protection from Elements on the burning creature. Uldur then gave it some sweets, and it told us that there’s a ‚shiny‘ up on the roof. Then it escaped through the chimney again. Uldur is determined to grate the surprisingly used and uncovered the entrance as soon as possible.
We went out to seek for the goblin and heard a telltale rustle as it plunged from the roof, leaving a small ruby among the blades of grass.
Leaving my new housemate to do whatever he deemed right, I went on and started tenting to the garden. Lots of work, lots of weeds and for some reason, lots of peas.
Before leaving for the town, I put on my light blue flowy dress. I deserve to wear light clothes again.
How unexpected. Leave three men alone with enough ale and they will start plotting things like a flock of elderly women. I walked in on Ash, Uldur and Cashand having a conversation with a mentioned name – Michael. As Michael’s lawful wife I approached, only to be politely announced by Uldur that it’s something secretive. Little brats.
Some minutes later Uldur told me a summary – that there might be a demonic attack on Valstiir, therefore there is a chance of me encountering Michael. Not much to believe in, as his contract clearly stated ‚blood wars‘, which is an ongoing eternal battle between demons and devils.
I went away to discharge my magic reserves for a little bit, only to return to an empty hall. Shrugging, giving up on the world of men, I was greeted outside by wheezing and panting Ash with Uldur, who’ve been trying to find me in panic. Caring boys. I gave each of them a hug to thank them for their care and to help calm them down. Suddenly, Ash noticed my dress, immediately spilling out words of appreciation. Uldur has been as clueless as ever, so it took a little explanation from Ash to get things click in his metal mind.
Right after that, we went on an adventure mixed with a patrol. Nothing like a service to the public and a time with your friends.
Right as we arrived, amidst of a friendly chat – Uldur collapsed to the ground and dozed off for a minute. I had to persuade him to go to sleep and rest at home, and to my relief, he considered the idea worthy of trying. Now to hope I will actually find him at home.
I stayed and talked with Ash for a moment longer, and then suddenly remembered how we talked about having a picnic at the peaceful place... the Abyss. I carefully brought it up as I planned, unsure whether he’s going to have time now or when, though I made an apple pie for the occasion. It does not matter to me.
His approach, jovial as it sometimes is, suggested that the decision of timing is up to me as a lady. As much of a gentleman as ever. I admit it warms my heart whenever he helps me in and out of a rowboat. I’ve never been used to such approach and treatment... and it’s nice to say the least to know a man who does such.
The question of the picnic blanket came up, and unexpectedly of Ash – we went out to the wilds to hunt down bears. As I feared, the plan was to skin them and use their furs as camping blankets. Marvelous. We searched on and on, and thanks to my „woman’s intuition“, as Ash likes to call it, we’ve slain two bears whose pelt was useable for our purposes. He is very nice, I have to admit that. It’s still surprising how fast we’ve become close friends, and it makes me happy knowing that he can accept me the way I am now and still cares, even though I’ve been at my worst.
During our trip to the Crypts of Moander, we talked about many things – including Uldur’s body. He desperately needs one, a new host. The ideal solution seems to be hiding in the Asylum, with many mindless victims just... waddling about, drooling over themselves in the abandoned building of death.
So we agreed to go there together when the time comes.
Hopefully, it’s soon.
Ash seemed to be in high spirits – a bit of free time among an avalanche of duties probably does this to anyone. We walked in a fast but relaxed pace, both eager to lounge at the place of utmost serenity.
After we successfully created an oasis of comfort amidst the cold stone and on the edge of the endless pit, I cut each of us a slice of pie and the picnic had begun. One of the few ones in my life, and definitely one of the most interesting of places. I’m still conflicted about feeling good, but I try to keep Ashes advice in mind – to take the will to live as a blessing from Michael. It’s now my duty to stay alive and to do as much as I can – preferably of the good.
Now let’s have an enjoyable night.
I can see what is so calming about this place. The vastness, eternal void... the size of your problems barely matters in comparison to something that monstrous, and in a way, majestic. In the eternal darkness perhaps might be creatures, spectral serpents with glowing spines, gliding through the void in eerie silence and sliding of scales.
The play of my imagination was halted by the start of a conversation, a talk that has been as pleasant as it was long. I like how much we tell each other, with no boundaries to what we uncover or not. It is beautiful to never be afraid to say what you feel like saying, without the need for the stress of being judged. Just you and that person, and vast nothing, a place for only two of us. I’m honored he brought me here. Our friendship must mean a lot.
One of the things we talked about is war. That one may come at any time, and neither he nor I will be able to refuse our help. Definitely not me. Not with what I can do at this point, to turn a battle around purely with my will and intuitive spellcasting. Such a frail little affectionate being I am, and yet so deadly at times.
Overall, it has been a fine, wonderful and lovely conversation. Time with Ash is always enjoyable, after all, and the fact he stayed at my side during the worst time of my life yet means probably much more than he realizes... or maybe he knows. He knows many things, all while hiding his warm heart. I am glad I get to hug him at times, his caring nature is present in the little acts and words. He’s a fascinating person to explore and get to know.
And I’m glad he finds my company pleasant too.
We packed up the picnic ‘equipment‘ and prepared to head back to the familiar Hadrian, when I remembered something. I remember I wanted to let Ash touch my shadowy form back at the Society, but he kind of got lost... the power of the Shadow Taint was making my shadow magic too potent and powerful. It’s considerably toned down now, though the effectivity is still the same with certain spells.
I called him over and announced, that if he wants to try to feel and touch... now’s the time.
I focused, calling upon the energies beyond, enveloping me in their calling, caressing familiarity. A slight coolness and then serenity, as the shadows engulfed my body, the maelstrom of darkness subsiding as it revealed my dark, shadowy form. Standing there, unbreathing.
I opened my eyes, and took a breath.
Ash gazed at me unblinking, as if enthralled, just as before. I stood still and patient, then extending my hand, smiling, to help guide him to me, to the experience of the touch.
He raised his hand, meeting mine, so I used the opportunity to gently guide his touch, planting his palm onto my side, just below my waistline. Ashes eyes widened, his hand gently exploring the new, strange surface.
A gasp. Was it of amazement, fascination or excitement? Only he knows at the moment.
Continuing my patient, gentle approach, I let him pull me into a firm embrace of his armored arms, so surprising and calming at the same time.
I often hug my friends, but in this hug has been something really close, expressing a hint of full trust and vulnerability. And that’s something I don’t mind sharing with my friends.
With his hand tightly gripping at my side, his other hand finished the embrace, sliding around me, all over my back, only to caringly pull my head closer to his chest, tying us in the serene moment. A moment of us truly. The tenderness amidst void and death, such a fragile moment yet overflowing. The shadows circulating over and through me made me receptive to the touch, I felt his breath on my hair as he leaned over, pulling me even closer, as if snuggling. I lost track of time, only the sensation of the embrace and everlasting silence of the Abyss.

Slowly, he pulled himself back, raising his hand to caress my cheek, I felt the shadowy surface welcoming his touch. My heart paced rapidly, fluttering in surprise, my eyes glued to his, absorbed in the intensity of the moment – and then my spell focus broke and the shadows flew away from where they came from. Only usual me remained in his arms, as he jolted awake, suddenly nervous.
A bit strange, really, as we hug quite often. I did my best to comfort dear Ash, helping him once again find the peace he comes here to experience, to the edge of the everpresent nothingness.
And then I heard him. To say a lovely thing.
« Last Edit: August 16, 2019, 03:43:14 pm by Sherina »
♡  Silt strider sounds


  • Citizen
  • *
  • Posts: 48
  • Baby Nugget
    • View Profile
Re: Sherina Tsirak - A Memory Book
« Reply #16 on: August 05, 2019, 08:43:20 am »

Dawn of the day

Since I forgot my arcane staff down at the Abyss, the first quest of the morning was to retrieve it. How fortunate that I managed to meet Cashand and Uldur, who have taken a walk with me so we could get to the business – the Devils Weed.

Devils Weed seems to only grow on certain nights on the Southbank graveyard – not the worst place to be at, albeit unfriendly an full of undead. Which kind of goes hand in hand, if you think about it. Anyways. Joriin needs the ingredient to complete his poison to become a Pale Master – a brave, big and admirable step. I support him in his aspirations since he is undergoing the transformation for his safety. He wants to research negative energies better, and if he would not change his body this way, he would be in a grave danger further into the research. So I’m glad he is being responsible – to the applicable extent.

The search was thorough, long and unsuccessful. We’ve cleared the undead from the graveyard and mausoleums, however no sign of the plant we were looking for.
Next stop ought to be Sullivans, I had an idea to take a walk there the way Michael took me to the Old Battlefields, back when he used to raise undead with the help fo the artifacts.
As we entered the old, withering palisade lines, I remembered the Chasm. Ice-cold sweat washed over me, making me dizzy, as I realized I might not ever be able to go down there again. But, I had my friends with me. Those who would support me and those who have been with me on the hardest day.
So I invited them with me to the Chasm, to take a look at the fairest place, my most favorite of all.

As we descended, I was overwhelmed. Memories, feelings, the things that were and were to be, all weighed down on me. I took off my helmet, tears mixing with the falling rain. I clung to Uldur for support, and he had provided. Cashand stayed a bit back, not sure what to do, so he just admired the scenery, nature, waterfalls. He loves that place. Just like I.
My mind wandered and I spoke it. I told them many things, about how I first discovered the chasm, how Michael took me there and I knew I have to return once more, later, with someone special. How everything was nice on that day. How it rained on my honeymoon, and how gentle everything was.
Joriin checked the caves, while I and Uldur rested near the place the thing took place. I figured that having memories with my friends on such places might do me well – they won’t be connected only to Michael, but as well to many others. Though with the number of my friends, I doubt there will ever be ‚many‘. Why bother by numbers though, when every single one of them has a place in my heart. Ash, Cashand, Uldur, Shi’Vail, Vivi, others. I love that they allow me to hug them – especially those two, as in those cases it seems like an achievement of the highest grade that they are happy to do these sort of things with me.
I’m glad.

Cashand returned from the caves and the three of us talked. I’ve been telling the master arcanist about the fun things about being a sorceress with a gift of fire when an idea struck my head – why won’t we go for a little swim in the stream of the chasm? Uldur, half asleep at the time, decided to go for a nap while Cashand and I dived in and bathed – after a short talk making sure both of us are comfortable with it - bare.
It’s not like I care, he has seen me half-nude before and kept it casual and nice. Just like this time. We talked and relaxed while Uldur, softly snoring, was having a nap. I’ve discovered that Joriin wants to meet a dragon – so I told him about Zoanantuss, and I wish him the best with meeting the bronze-scaled, majestic creature.

Later I went to Sullivans, to just roam around and forget about the world. I discovered a village of Malar’s Hollow – a human settlement amidst the dangerous jungles of the monster territory. It was eerily quiet. I left shortly after.

Surprisingly, I met Ash on that day as well. He has joined me on a late lunch on the Society patio. We had a bit of casual talk, though he seemed distracted throughout a portion of it. Talk went on about many things, from our goals to Ash being good at the recruitment talks. From which we got to more... interesting part of the conversation I’d say? There were some things not said in words. And it was nice that way.

Returning from a morning visit, I went on to have an apple juice at the Society hall. Ash had some ordered, as the last time I was there I’ve had nothing to drink – he and Grano seemed to forget that people who do not drink alcohol exist. That’s how it goes with innkeepers I suppose – you do not expect the other kind of customers.
I’ve stumbled upon Morgaine and others, having friendly spars and chats. It’s been a relaxed part of the day, everyone had fun and Belorfin had, of course, his bagels which keep appearing seemingly out of nowhere. Perhaps it’s another mystical spell, in either way it’s nothing I should care about.

Uldur hasn’t been feeling well, so I walked him home and together we had a nap.

The hours passed, and I found myself in the town again, this time meeting Joriin. If was the last day before his ritual – the one he might not return from. Ans as we agreed before – we had some things to experience together. Including dinner at the fancy Skyborne Hall, or whatever the name of that restaurant is.
A word gave a word, and suddenly, we were in Hadrian brothel. Discussing and appreciating the furnishing and interior designs, we peeked into a room after room. Staff had to think some things, seeing a Master Arcanist and a Mayor’s Spellmaiden rating and judging the rooms of the establishment. In the last room, Joriin and I found things familiar to me – chains and other equipment. Talking about it on our way back to the main floor, we came to know that both of us fancy this sort of ‚play‘. Interesting thing to share with friends, for sure.

Arriving at Nualla’n, we went to roam the deep woods of the elvish region. I’ve never been there before, that’s why he offered me to do so. Together.
The forest was lush and green, with many exotic plants and small forest critters. We’ve seen a memorial to Celeb – a woman I still feel a slight unease around. We walked further, our robes getting stuck in the foliage until we reached a high watchtower.
The view was... breathtaking. In the night, the full moon and stars tinted the leaves silver, the waterfall, and streams akin to liquid glass, as the breeze softly rustled in the bushes. It’s been a magical night, we sat in the high tower, looking upon the world almost as if it was a map. At that moment, we didn’t talk much. The beauty of nature and elvish architecture was overwhelming. Perhaps we could visit one more time.

As the last stop, our journey of experiences then took us to Valstiir, finally for the promised dinner. It was fine, Joriin as a Master Arcanist got his order hurried... The perks of a high position, I’m sure. We have talked about some deep things, as we often do, including his dream to have a loved one. I did my best to reassure him and put off his fears – because he is a lovely man, and half-undead or not, a suitable partner will surely appear in his life.
He sometimes needs a little consolation, and I’m here for everyone who needs me. As I always were. We shared one last hug, tight and intimate, as it could be our last.
« Last Edit: August 07, 2019, 05:38:34 am by Sherina »
♡  Silt strider sounds


  • Citizen
  • *
  • Posts: 48
  • Baby Nugget
    • View Profile
Re: Sherina Tsirak - A Memory Book
« Reply #17 on: August 07, 2019, 06:58:00 pm »

Building What’s Lost

In the rays of a sunrise, I departed towards Sullivans Port, trying to keep my promise to Vivili – to visit her as often as humanly possible. Fortunately, I found her in the fields – yes, the very fields I was teaching Michael at about farming. The fields of „Plants fear the Iron“, where I always corrected him – that the „plants like the Iron.“ Spoiler
Nostalgia aside, Vivi and I had a pleasant time together – perhaps beside the talk about how Ash is sort of forcing her to stay with Nuzu in a relationship to prevent the attack on Valstiir enclave. That doesn‘t sound like Ash. I don’t know who to trust anymore.
Stopping by Hadrian’s Inn for the usual sweet cake for my past darling, I stumbled upon a wounded man, limply leaning on his sword in the center of the square. If wouldn’t be me if I haven’t come closer and show him the necessary directions – this time, it seemed to be quite dire, so I suggested using the services of the local Temple.
Temporarily preventing the man from receiving his treatment, there went mister Raul (with whom I talked about my order, though it seems it might take longer than any of us estimated) and a halfling trader, offering us various valuables. Surprisingly, I chose a Phoenix belt, an accessory suited to my needs. The only thing left is to wait until the end of the Skettus silent auction for the Elven Crafted Amulet, and I should be good to go to any battle or situation.
I went on with my day afterward, visiting the grave of my dearest one, with a book and a cake. I like to read at that place, it’s very enjoyable and serene... after you get rid of the constant nuisance of ever-returning bandits.
As I was slowly closing the chapter, a proclamation echoed through my head – it’s Joriin! He seemed to have successfully finished his ritual, which is something I want to see the results of! I’ve been waiting for the news, almost desperately, as he has become quite a close friend of mine.
I can’t say I’m not surprised, as the disdain of Arcanists towards sorcerers is widely known. Even though all of this, Cashand and I have come to a mutual understanding, and we seem to accept and support each other in a way.
I have to see him.
I lunged into a hug with Joriin, joyful of my friend’s return – though he was changed. His previously black-brown hair has faded in color, leaving it steel grey with streaks of midnight blackness. Heh, both of us have come to a conclusion that now he’s even more pale than I – which seems to be a personal achievement of his own. I wonder HOW pale would I be after undergoing such a transition. Perhaps I’d be white as the snow on the cursed mountain...
As Joriin and I were catching up, deeply indulging in a friendly conversation, the man from before, now bandaged, has come to the square again, meeting our Mayor Morgaine and her partner, Fjord. Those three have talked some introductory stuff, as it often goes in such situations. Our Mayor loves to welcome new arrivals and travelers in person.
Joriin, curious nonetheless, walked up to them after a while, casually asking several questions. I joined them soon, now even I have become curious about this red-haired fighter.
His name turned out to be Darius Arren, a temperament fighter with a sword and a spell. Seems to be of a sort not unlike Uldur, though something about him is vastly different from the knightly teddybear Uldur proves himself to be.
Later the group separated, leaving Jorrin and me on our own again, next to hi favorite cart with kegs. I wonder what made him pick that spot... Perhaps his love for wine?
Not minding the business of the port town, we talked and agreed to continue at his estate.. or a mansion, I should say? His enclave.
Fun thing is, that I barely keep in mind his immense power and the position he has. When he’s with me, he simply becomes... my friend. And that’s all he is at that given moment. Perhaps that’s why he spends so much time with me. Perhaps it’s refreshing.. perhaps it’s something else. Either way, I’m the one sorcerer he doesn’t hate – so I’m content with the situation!
At his place, while we were talking about both magical and non-magical stuff, he had shown me a creature he can summon, an undead two-weapon fighter. Towering mummy, never tiring out, not knowing pain nor fear. A rather impressive ‚pet‘, as he calls it.
After that display of power and skill, he’s shown me another change of his body – his, now completely skeletal left arm, entwined in magic.
„May I touch?“ was my question, a careful one, as I didn’t want it to sound too pushy.
He allowed me, with a smile, offering me to take an even better look at the bath.
My soul filled with expectation, Cashand took off his glove and lifted the sleeve of his suit, exposing the skeletal limb. I stared at it with marvel and curiosity, watching its smooth movement and soft texture, as the light of the mythallar shard occasionally reflected on the dull bone surface.
I reached forth to gently touch it, running my fingers across the smooth textured surface. I felt a few tiny dents here and there, y fingertips following the curves of the bones. Entranced by the wonderful display of willpower and magic, I became absorbed by the studying of the arm. I ran my hand lower, carefully exploring and touching the bones of the wrist, palm and fingers. Cashand chuckled, watching me play and explore, seemingly quite amused and happy with the situation. I remember him being afraid to take that step, worried about losing friends. Why would he worry, though? I expressed how beautiful I find it to be, which surprised him a great deal. I held his hand, feeling the gentle warmth emanating from the hard, smooth surface, albeit a bit rough at some places. Not giving it much of a thought, I intertwined my fingers with his phalanges, taking in the feelings with an open heart. I looked up at him, thankful and glad. Continuing the talk, I forgot I held his hand – which I later apologized for. Thanks stars, Cashand didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest. He didn’t accept the apology, telling me there is nothing to be sorry about, that he is happy someone expresses a genuine interest in the things he’s done. And gave my hand a little squeeze.
I must admit, such warmth, kindness and openness are rarely found in people, and I certainly didn’t expect to find such traits in a Master Arcanist – and a necromancer in one.
As our talk continued, both of us gave the bath a thought. As his estate seems to lack a proper bathtub, as unexpected as it is, we went to my place to let him have a bath in my steel-rimmed tub. It’s not like that bathtub hasn’t seen more men than I did... as if it matters, after all. Caring about friends is important and necessary. And to be frank, Joriin and I have seen each other already, so there was nothing to be nervous about. For both sides.
I prepared the bath, as usual, warming it up with my inherent flame, with Cashand watching from the distance. He then sat down into the hot water, relaxing, and I was invited to touch his skin. It seems the half-undeath made his skin more resistant and hardened. So I did.
I gently slid my hand across his upper back, not feeling any difference at first. Though as I slightly pressed on the skin, I felt the unusual toughness. I went a bit further and pinched at his right shoulder. He obviously didn’t feel a thing. As I continued my touches, Joriin tried to reassure me, saying that I can do as I wish, and to try what I wish. After that I sat next to the bathtub, leaning my head backward, resting against his humerus. We were both relaxed and content, with Joriin flexing his phalanges now and then, and I watched. As the wholesome evening continued, I mentioned my last will, that I’m giving my body to him for the research purposes. He.. was thankful, but not excited about the idea of me passing.
Definitely, a nice and lovely evening. I slept well... no more nightmares, it seems, at least not for tonight.

Morgaine’s proclamation disturbed the writing of the Michael’s chronicle Uldur asked me to write. She’s preparing to go to the Asylum again... and as her spellmaiden, a guard, I had to be there. I quickly dressed into the battle robes, grabbed my staff and rushed out of the door.
Thinking about many recent events I arrived to see Mayor and Fjord already at the square. Even though they’re together, there aren’t many familiarities and affections shared. Usually. A few more people have gathered along the way, including Casper.
Upon entry, our party met a mysterious, masked woman – calling herself ‚Lue‘. She turned out to be disguised Vivili, my troubled, crimson flower. She came to help us, being the only one who truly knows what lies in the Asylum. The deeper we got the heavier my head became – not because of any spell, but because of the knowledge of how vast and difficult the renovations are going to be. Even though Joriin already offered his golems, it will take some time and considerable effort to transform that wretched place into a true health-promoting facility I dream of.
Deep in the maze of Asylum, we found Zilta, seemingly wandering about. Not much later we left to explore the surroundings, finding a small crypt, though we were able to see the massive rest of the underground, beyond a pitch-black pit. Giving up on the crypts, we headed back up – meanwhile, the hordes have emerged, though have been immediately punished by the spell of Zilta and I. I gave Morgaine several battle wands to use in the times of need – I trust she is going to use them in the best-suited situation. She is my Mayor, after all. How sad I can’t craft more wands, as I’m not getting re-paid the sealing fee of the Arcanist Guild craft rooms.
As soon as Vivi exposed herself, throwing away the disguise, Joriin distanced himself, declining to work alongside her. Laws and position don’t allow him, as he later explained to me, and I further told it to Vivi. She, fortunately, understood.
Continuing our mission, the group decided to walk back to the main gates after paying a brief visit to the Groundskeeper. And, at the gates... A massive ancient vampire, far more enormous than any of the giants living in the Landslide part of the hills, squeezed out of the entrance door. My summon and Pattie frightened out and blindly attacked – by a split second I managed to send Pattie back, evading a deadly blow. Giant and we then talked. Only briefly, as Count Voust didn’t seem to obey the laws and requests presented. Instead, the fight has begun.
All of us had fought beyond our limits and with all of our powers – Fjord held the ancient vampire back, so the spellcasters were free to rain magic and fire down on him. The magical resistances of the monstrosity have worn out, his flesh tattered and charred – with the beast now fleeing to the depths of the wretched building. We followed.
The main door locked behind us upon entry, leaving us trapped in the massive labyrinth of pain and death. We pushed on and through the endless, soulless monstrosities until we reached one of the larger halls – now hosting two magma balors and Narrius himself.
The battle was quick and ferocious, draining our powers even more. I was already out of magic, being able to weave only little cantrips and keep my eye on the Mayor.
She was struck down, yet I’ve been able to stabilize her in time – which seemed to make Narrus the Tyrant even angrier. His focus turned towards me, as his booming voice resonated through the polished stone hall – “Die, DIE!!”
He got me.
His fangs dove deep inside of me, I felt my own armor piercing me as he tore my flesh…
Then I woke up, fighting for breath, suffocating. My vision was blurry with tears of struggle, I saw a hint of red and then blue, vibrant colors against the grey… was it ceiling? Colors got lost by the seconds, and when I no longer even felt my body struggling for breath... A wave of healing, soothing energy washed over me, a familiar and welcomed feeling of the healing wand magic. I could breathe again.
This was close.
The situation was as follows – Vivili, seemingly not knowing about my allergy, emptied a whole potion inside of my mouth. I’ve been fortunate that at least someone remembered my situation and used the wand – I wouldn’t be able to write this entry otherwise. Thank gods.
Vivi… Vivili felt horrible.
Just a few minutes after a helmed Arcanist, apparently looking for Zilta, has appeared and opened a portal to the Arcanist building in Hadrian, and we safely passed through.
I had to have come crepes with cream and a short rest.
Coin, here I come.

Meanwhile, the energies got out of balance and the sun got surrounded by the black aura. Undead flooded the streets, and as a guard, I fought. On my patrol, I rescued a bearded young man – apparently of celestial origin, as he sported a pair of rich-plumed, pearly white wings on his back. The soft fluff of feathers stained with the decomposing, dark fluids spilling out of the wounds of the zombies.
I at least healed him, as I couldn’t help him up due to his size and heavy armor. His name is Johannes, and he is indeed, an Aasimar. Something seems a bit off about him, his history not having much of the expected parts of a partially angelic being. Well, be it what it is, I needed to keep the man safe. A citizen is a citizen, and the safest place at that moment was by my side. So, I had him tag along for the duration of the patrol until we parted ways.


Uldur told me of his favorite memory of Michael. The joy he has seen on the face of my beloved when he presented him the black unicorn horn – at the time the last ingredient for the Selune temple cure. Even though, I doubt it would have worked.
Later in the morning, I went to the Sailor’s Coin... It’s a nice place for when I feel like being alone but not entirely, in case I’d start doing something to myself again. That time Ash saved me haunts me still, as I’m unsure whether I will one time turn against myself again, and that time, there wouldn’t be anyone to save me. Or, willing to.
People are not the nicest, with some exceptions of course.
I met Cashand as he was resting at the inn by the fireplace – surely getting some heat into his body, as he has mentioned before that ever since his pale master transition, there are times when he feels incredibly cold. Perhaps I could ask him about trapping my flame in a magical blanket or something, so he can find comfort and warmth anytime?
Either way, we slowly started talking. As close friends, able to enjoy eachothers‘ company without the words. Just as it was now. First one who spoke was I, and from there, the laid-back conversation of a fire sorceress and a pale master had bloomed onwards. We talked about various topics – his wonderment and curiosity about what would have become of me if the shadow taint was allowed to consume me whole, his admiration for Roz’dha’s spellcraft, his plans, the fallen enclave, friendly hikes, red mists... and how we two can do some work to stop the mists entirely. As usual, Cashand presented many good ideas, and especially one surprised me, as he mentioned that NO ONE tried this yet – to simply TALK with the druegar! Morgaine bragged about killing them once in a while, but especially from someone like her... to not even try the utmost base of diplomacy!? That let me down if it’s true. Now I doubt that any of the deep dwarves would be willing to listen to us, due to what humans put them through already.
My dear Joriin mentioned he’d like to drink less, and since his favorite beverage is wine, I tried to work something out. In the end, I brought him a bottle of a currant-blackberry juice. His warm and surprised smile when I handed it to him, and the taste seemed to be similar to the taste of wine. I’m glad.
The moments by the fire were interrupted by Johannes stopping by, and not-so-subtly asking about Michael’s death. Cashand has tried to steer the conversation away, keeping an eye on me for any signs of discomfort. After the worst had passed I casted a Message cantrip and mentally told Joriin of my gratitude – he simply smiled in response.
A clearly audible announcement came up – Any adventurers and such were to see Planewalker Steven Darvis at the Hadrian’s Magic Store. The task was simple – to explore what lies beyond the new portal gate. A hefty bunch of people has gathered, and within a while, we all stepped through the planar gate, into the unknown.
The other side was... a city, it seemed. Much different than our cities usually look, with tall, slightly wrenched buildings and wide walkways. Housing freely-wandering hordes of undead, which quickly fell under my flame and the joint effort of all those who have passed through. A moderate while later we’ve found a door, being opened by unusual mechanism Johannes seemed to know.
So we entered.
It was a building, with long, winding polished stone corridors and halls with cushiony couches and feather-soft beds. Yet none of us dropped their guard.
The building was empty.
On a hidden town square, we’ve found a huge, glowing obelisk adorned with various runes – meaning of which I didn’t know. Fortunately, we had Joriin with us, but before he could do any further research on the faintly glowing, pulsing pillar – a man of a name ‚Honest‘ pressed one of the runes. In his imagination, it seemed like two.. pleasuring women, and that was the reason for his action. Strange man, certainly not the sort I’d like to ever meet in person.. especially not in private. His action at first seemed to caus nothing – however, after a few seconds passed, a pack of water elementals has emerged, drowning several members of the group under their forceful waves. We defended ourselves and helped those who have breathed in the copious amounts of water, making sure everyone stays alive.
To my disappointment, most of the present folk couldn’t find a better thing to do than to criticize Joriin for something that would've never happened without Honest’s dull action. I walked up to the necromancer’s side, being silent support. He is a nice person, and can’t be left alone in this – even though he can easily manage, and certainly does not mind. I was surprised by his question – „Are you okay?“
The words of care rarely heard from anyone else, let alone another mage. I tilted my helm to the side, whispering to him a few short, warm sentences.
The pillar seemed to be a key to the planes, something beyond my current understanding but Cashand seemed familiar with it. Johannes just stood there, looking at the two divided groups, trying to bring them to work together. Joriin and I were open to that, but the other mix of people were of much less willing sort. As it is was by a chance, the two people who kept themselves blind to who Michael truly was were there too – the halflings Casper and Marlee, glaring at everyone else without a reason. Hmh, and Marlee kept telling me before that she prays for Michael’s quick recovery – and when he recovered, she was the one to first throw accusations and untrue words at him! People who keep two faces should at least be subtle about it, this is just annoying. Anyways, the second group declined to fully join forces, despite Joriin’s battle capabilities – thanks to which we all finished the mission alive.
We’ve found several books describing the base four elemental planes, available for anyone to study for the knowledge of their creatures. Darius, Johannes, and Joriin set up a book study meeting – and after my playful question whether a lady is being left out, Darius simply remarked that my role was already solidified due to ‚my relationship.‘ Now I don’t know what it was supposed to be about, as the conversation has been quickly steered away to other topics. Downstairs, Johannes asked Cashand and me to later be in privacy with him, which seemed alright to both of us... so we agreed.
Before we left though, Helle pulled me aside. I told her coldly of Michael’s death, expecting her to be joyful at his demise, as many others surely were. Many, many others. While at times being even worse human beings than he could get to be. But Helle... seemed sad about hearing it. Perhaps for me, as I always accepted her, even though her Sharran religion.
Joriin and I certainly didn’t expect a time at the large inn room – which I have still pre-paid by Vivili – with the manly Aasimar telling us both about each other, and some traits of each of us. It was interesting, to say the least. And he got to scratch my head in the metal gloves... which gave me a thought. With Cashand’s skeletal arm... could it feel good? I got to try it.
After our time at the inn, Johannes and I parted ways with Cashand, who went home.
Me and the Aasimar went on to study the fire tome... at least I did, he studied whatever he could.
But before that we went to visit Michael’s grave for a moment, leaving the usual cake and a bunch of wildflowers. Then, Johannes decided to talk. We have done so for a little while and headed to my basement afterward, exploring the various creatures and their forms.
« Last Edit: August 16, 2019, 10:44:47 am by Sherina »
♡  Silt strider sounds


  • Citizen
  • *
  • Posts: 48
  • Baby Nugget
    • View Profile
Re: Sherina Tsirak - A Memory Book
« Reply #18 on: August 16, 2019, 03:25:32 pm »


I spent a major part of the previous day at Sullivan’s Jungles, specifically at Vivi’s place. Uldur called me over via hazily-explained proclaimation – I had to follow my gut feeling, and fortunately, it was correct. Although the plan was to go on a little exploration, we ended up hanging out in Vivi’s cave. The topics got deeper as she shared various stories and knowledge, getting to the subject of the Vall, and to the topic of the pain.
I asked my question, as her contained madness gives her a unique viewpoint – and I learned to listen to the mad. And she told me similar view to the one Ash shared – I am free to live my life, and I’m allowed to be happy. Once more, differently and again.


The next morning, after a night with zero sleep due to comforting and supporting Uldur in his slumber, I caught a ship to Hadrian. Fortunately for my exhausted body and mind, the bedrolls at the back of the ship are sufficient for a few hour long nap, and while I rested at least a little bit, the ship arrived to the port town.
Besides feeling tired, I felt like hanging out. Thankfully enough, Joriin was available for a bit of a friendly chat, and as I went to ask him a question I was nervous about – Johannes approached us, disrupting my question right as I was to spill out the main part of it. The winged man leant against a pillar supporting the trellis of the General Store, giving me space to scurry over to Cashand and quietly ask what I wanted to. To be fair, I’ve been nervous as I haven’t been for a considerable while.
The... Cashand’s answer stunned me for a split second, as he told me he’s been thinking about the same thing. How the head scratches feel with his new, skeletal arm. Smiling warmly as he does, and just as considerate, letting me know that the timing and place is up to me. Sweet necromancer.
Later on, Johannes let me play with the almost white fluff of his wings. Soft feathers neatly folded over one another, in the perfect shape – just a bit too small to get a fighter in a full armor into the air. My hands snaked over each of his wing, feeling the thumb part, the numerous small feathers of the top and then towards stroking the long, massive main feathers. While he and I were waiting for Cashand to come back, Johannes started talking. Sharing personal matters of his father’s passing, and his feelings of loss. So be it, I lent him an ear.

After our wait was over, Joriin, Johannes and I went on a long trip, far beyond the Patrician plains, deep into the snowy cold mountains. The peaks, infested by demonic spawn and wild energies, house a deep, maze-like crypt with its corridors winding left and right, spliting only so they can join a few hundred meters later. Amazing architectural strusture for sure, but deadly if you can’t face what’s inside.
And we, fortunately, could.
Cashand’s primary intent was to show Johannes how to speak with ghosts. Apparently there is supposed to be such room in the depths of the icy maze. Yet as it often goes, we didn’t have enough luck to find what we were looking for.

Biting frost clawed onto our flesh as we ventured onto a path back to the town of Hadrian, fighting through the cold-changed animals and otherwordly beings, lashing at us with their powerful limbs. We got through, and after several hours of a hike, we got back to the town of prostitutes and cheap ale.
On our way though, stoppin by at the Northern Farms, I pulled out a package of fairy floss for Johannes, for which he thanked me. Stressed and nervous, not knowing what Joriin could like, as I’ve never seen him eat, I handed him a gold-ribbon tied pack of 'caramel roaches' – caramel and soft nougat coated in a crispy chocolate layer. I received thanks in return, though whether he tasted them is a mystery.

We went to sell our finds. Johannes went inside with the bag of loot, while I stayed outside, enjoying the evening sky up above. Cashand, heading in, suddenly stopped and turned towards me. And again, that kind smile while a veil of regret and dark flickered through, somewhere deep in his gaze. After Johannes‘ depart, Cashand and I traveled to his estate, accompanied by a friendly conversation.
Touring parts and separate buildings of his private enclave, we mainly talked interior decoration and various remakes possible to make to various parts of his floating island. It has a lot of potential, with its own inn and many other possible venues. Discussion proceeded further as we reached his bedroom – admittedly, the last thing I would see myself being at is a Master Arcanist’s bedroom. Yet here I am, folding my cloak and setting down my lovingly carved staff.

Cashand sat down on the bed, his back against the head of the bed, waiting for me to get closer. I sat down as well, turning around a bit, allowing him a comfortable access. Nice and considerate, he gently placed the palm of his left hand on the top of my head, and as he spread his fingers to the sides, I got familiar with the new feeling. He started slowly, massaging my head with the bony hand. The sensation, intense, light and yet firm, sent slight tingles over my scalp and neck, making me instinctively lean into the gentle swirling touch of his phalanges.
His hand, although unnatural, felt warm on my head. I felt my body get limp further and further, dropping into the serene bliss of care and light affection, shared among two close friends. My shoulders have drooped as I gave in to the comforting sensations. Cashand, noticing so imediately, had offered me himself to lean on as a support – which I gladly accepted.
Whole late evening and night flowed by on the same, harmonious tune, until we both fell asleep.

The past days were hectic, to say the least. The mist had caught its breath, now ravaging the land with even more fervor. Pain and chaos. Focusing on the brightness, on the small compliment Ash gives me now and then. I have to keep going on, if not for myself, then for Michael and the sacrifice he made. Ash, Three, Bel and I fought the incoming horces of the mist-risen dead in the plains, leaving Uldur to keep the city safe from any runaways. Now are the times we need to be able to lean on each other, as any singular pieces will crumble under the weight of events and duty.

Day has started on a lighter note, with an early noon chat with my friends. I had a short moment of warmth with Morgaine as I told her of my first picnic with Ash, which made her smile. Unfortunately, I had no more good news or at least distractions for her. Her job is busy and tasks are hard, and even though I’m her guard, I feel I’m not doing anything to ease it all up.
I wish she would tell me all I could help her with.
And I still have no idea where to start about the Harvest Moon... I might need to meet with Morgaine and the head of the organization, after the Voust thing is dealt with, to see their visions for the place.

After that, Uldur and I went home... originally. He trailed off the path into the hidden cellar-den, a place he comes to brood at quite often, based on his own words. And there, in the dim light of a singular torch, unable to cast enough light to do more than to just draw out the shadows, he told me of all the trouble and turmoil going on. He had declared a conflict among large factions, in an attempts to make things at least have a chance to get right. But what can get right in this knotted-up mess anymore?
No matter what we choose, someone will die, and such grim times I certainly didn’t expect to lie in the future. All while Uldur, the lovely knightly man, keeps himself withering just to remember all he needs to. Cashand can’t seem to get his hands on a master Mentalist, which is the worse news in this situation. If anyone, Uldur deserves priority in all the help. Always kind and protective. Keeping the duty Michael given him long even after his death, Uldur has been there for me and many others, and he is the main reason why I am alive. He saved me, nurtured me back to health and thanks to him I stand up from the bed each day, grateful for his presence. In budding panic and reality overwhelm, he also managed to tell me about the growing danger for not only him and Vivili, but also for Ash. And told me the word Ash gave him for me – that after whatever happens when 14th takes him, if he lives, he will be with his mother and I may come to visit. I will, Uldur, I will. And if he doesn’t, I shall keep my word and give his remains to the quiet, living Black.
« Last Edit: August 16, 2019, 03:39:05 pm by Sherina »
♡  Silt strider sounds