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Altriona: Journal the Second
Oct. 15th, 2009 07:05 pmMayhap I need to revise my judgement of my sister-in-law.
I dozed off in the armchair last night, as the hammock was too much effort to attain. I must have been fatigued, for my ears told no tales to my reason regarding the forcing of the window. I was oblivious even to the search of our trunks for valuables. It was Lorandara's challenge, followed by the burst of white light, that woke me. There was my beloved heart sister, propped on one arm in bed, her nightgown in lacy folds around her and her hair haloing her head, casting a spell that made the would-be thieves reel back, clawing at their eyes and screaming from the pain. It made my eyes water, too, though not so much that I missed what happened next.
Even as I was diving for my foil, Mallion leapt over 'Dara and - the word that comes to mind is one I would never previously have associated with my brother even in the context of a meal at table, for he tore into the thief. Before I could get my foil properly out of its sheath, and certainly before I could put it to good use against the form silhouetted against the window, there was blood spurting from the halfling woman who was attempting to rob us. I know not why he stopped short of shredding her throat. His claws did rip her flesh from her skull. I suspect the throat would not have long remained whole had Lorandara not called out to him.
She cast another spell as she said it, a sentinel of white light that floated around her. She was standing by the bed by this time, and her radiance dazzled me as surely as had her blinding light; indeed, I thought to behold Ishta herself. I was too befuddled to make good use of my foil, and I regret to inform my future readers (I am beginning to develop an attachment to you, who shall be forever unknown to me!) that I did not acquit myself well against the other attacker. I wish I had, for if I had been able to repel the man in the window, perhaps I would never have seen the look in Mallion's eye when the axe hit him in his horns.
He had paused in his assault at Lorandara's word, but the axe brought a light of madness to his eye. Never before had I witnessed such an expression, and I had not truly understood it before; do we ever truly understand that which we have not witnessed for ourselves, even amongst our loved ones? Be that as it may, I understand it now, and will never again use that turn of phrase lightly. He attacked the figure in the window, who avoided his talons with grace and descended his rope into his boat. At 'Dara's and my insistence, we allowed the injured halfling to leave by the same route. Our noise had naturally awoken the ship, and the halfling was killed by the crew's arrows before arriving back at the dock. In mere moments we had the captain and his men banging on our door to see to our safety.
I was still dazed, but Lorandara rose to the occasion yet again. She reminded of the necessary subterfuge, as if someone had frightened the attackers away, and since she was not the least bit frightening, that must needs be me. She uttered a quick spell to clean Mallion and the floor of blood, and Mal hid himself once again under the mattress against the wall of the bed. I stood by the window with my sword and main gauche drawn, making motions as though to clean blood off the blades, though there had been none. (I am already tired of lies. Why must I tell new ones every hour?)
'Dara and I rid ourselves of concerned crewmembers with such alacrity as we could muster, and insisted that we set sail immediately. Imholien House's Marienburg office will be paying a steep fine to the port authority for that predawn departure. I did not relish the task of explaining away the beastman the remaining thief would report having seen in our chamber, were he to be caught alive by the Watch.
Truly, it was Lorandara's quick action and sorcery that saved us from the thieves and Mallion from discovery.
We told Tidurion later in the day. To his immense credit, he did not retreat in terror when we revealed Mallion to him, nor did he insist upon returning to port or killing the beast. With some considerable beseechings on our parts, we were able to exact from him a promise to remain with us and keep our secret from the family and the crew.
It was the first time since the transformation that I had seen the entirety of my brother by light of day, with leisure to look upon him, and indeed the need to do so. My gentle scholar of a brother, he who refused to fence beyond first blood and has never to my knowledge used his hands to hit another being, now bears a truly fearsome aspect. I find myself unable to put words to paper to describe him; in my deepest heart I fear that penning the words will make them real, fix them in this world where they do not belong, and in so doing erase any hope of returning to us the Mallion we have always known. Therefore, reader of days yet to come, you must needs piece together what you can of his appearance from disparate clues in this text; for no more coherent description will be forthcoming.
Tidurion qualified his promise to us. Having seen the state of the halfling after two swipes of my brother's talons, the qualification set my heart to quailing as nothing else had in all these long days. And yet it was as nothing next to Mallion's calm acceptance of it. Tidurion said that he would protect Mallion up to the point where he felt my brother's soul to be chaos-tainted and corrupt, at which moment, for the safety of all on board, he would kill my brother. Mallion did not flinch. I, who know him better than any, could see the knowledge in his eyes, starkly clear. He believes it to be only a matter of time before Tidurion must break his vow to us and kill him. As if that were not enough to strike fear to the marrow of my soul, I am sure of one other thing: that Mallion, the part of him that is yet my gentle brother, would not fight back against that judgement.
Should the Gods will it, we shall restore my brother when we reach the Tilean city states. I must refuse to contemplate any other outcome.
I am discovering how small a spark of hope is enough to keep one moving forward. It is not a pleasant discovery. How far down this road doth madness lie? Is it not madness to hope yet for the impossible? And yet to give up hope is unthinkable.
I dozed off in the armchair last night, as the hammock was too much effort to attain. I must have been fatigued, for my ears told no tales to my reason regarding the forcing of the window. I was oblivious even to the search of our trunks for valuables. It was Lorandara's challenge, followed by the burst of white light, that woke me. There was my beloved heart sister, propped on one arm in bed, her nightgown in lacy folds around her and her hair haloing her head, casting a spell that made the would-be thieves reel back, clawing at their eyes and screaming from the pain. It made my eyes water, too, though not so much that I missed what happened next.
Even as I was diving for my foil, Mallion leapt over 'Dara and - the word that comes to mind is one I would never previously have associated with my brother even in the context of a meal at table, for he tore into the thief. Before I could get my foil properly out of its sheath, and certainly before I could put it to good use against the form silhouetted against the window, there was blood spurting from the halfling woman who was attempting to rob us. I know not why he stopped short of shredding her throat. His claws did rip her flesh from her skull. I suspect the throat would not have long remained whole had Lorandara not called out to him.
She cast another spell as she said it, a sentinel of white light that floated around her. She was standing by the bed by this time, and her radiance dazzled me as surely as had her blinding light; indeed, I thought to behold Ishta herself. I was too befuddled to make good use of my foil, and I regret to inform my future readers (I am beginning to develop an attachment to you, who shall be forever unknown to me!) that I did not acquit myself well against the other attacker. I wish I had, for if I had been able to repel the man in the window, perhaps I would never have seen the look in Mallion's eye when the axe hit him in his horns.
He had paused in his assault at Lorandara's word, but the axe brought a light of madness to his eye. Never before had I witnessed such an expression, and I had not truly understood it before; do we ever truly understand that which we have not witnessed for ourselves, even amongst our loved ones? Be that as it may, I understand it now, and will never again use that turn of phrase lightly. He attacked the figure in the window, who avoided his talons with grace and descended his rope into his boat. At 'Dara's and my insistence, we allowed the injured halfling to leave by the same route. Our noise had naturally awoken the ship, and the halfling was killed by the crew's arrows before arriving back at the dock. In mere moments we had the captain and his men banging on our door to see to our safety.
I was still dazed, but Lorandara rose to the occasion yet again. She reminded of the necessary subterfuge, as if someone had frightened the attackers away, and since she was not the least bit frightening, that must needs be me. She uttered a quick spell to clean Mallion and the floor of blood, and Mal hid himself once again under the mattress against the wall of the bed. I stood by the window with my sword and main gauche drawn, making motions as though to clean blood off the blades, though there had been none. (I am already tired of lies. Why must I tell new ones every hour?)
'Dara and I rid ourselves of concerned crewmembers with such alacrity as we could muster, and insisted that we set sail immediately. Imholien House's Marienburg office will be paying a steep fine to the port authority for that predawn departure. I did not relish the task of explaining away the beastman the remaining thief would report having seen in our chamber, were he to be caught alive by the Watch.
Truly, it was Lorandara's quick action and sorcery that saved us from the thieves and Mallion from discovery.
We told Tidurion later in the day. To his immense credit, he did not retreat in terror when we revealed Mallion to him, nor did he insist upon returning to port or killing the beast. With some considerable beseechings on our parts, we were able to exact from him a promise to remain with us and keep our secret from the family and the crew.
It was the first time since the transformation that I had seen the entirety of my brother by light of day, with leisure to look upon him, and indeed the need to do so. My gentle scholar of a brother, he who refused to fence beyond first blood and has never to my knowledge used his hands to hit another being, now bears a truly fearsome aspect. I find myself unable to put words to paper to describe him; in my deepest heart I fear that penning the words will make them real, fix them in this world where they do not belong, and in so doing erase any hope of returning to us the Mallion we have always known. Therefore, reader of days yet to come, you must needs piece together what you can of his appearance from disparate clues in this text; for no more coherent description will be forthcoming.
Tidurion qualified his promise to us. Having seen the state of the halfling after two swipes of my brother's talons, the qualification set my heart to quailing as nothing else had in all these long days. And yet it was as nothing next to Mallion's calm acceptance of it. Tidurion said that he would protect Mallion up to the point where he felt my brother's soul to be chaos-tainted and corrupt, at which moment, for the safety of all on board, he would kill my brother. Mallion did not flinch. I, who know him better than any, could see the knowledge in his eyes, starkly clear. He believes it to be only a matter of time before Tidurion must break his vow to us and kill him. As if that were not enough to strike fear to the marrow of my soul, I am sure of one other thing: that Mallion, the part of him that is yet my gentle brother, would not fight back against that judgement.
Should the Gods will it, we shall restore my brother when we reach the Tilean city states. I must refuse to contemplate any other outcome.
I am discovering how small a spark of hope is enough to keep one moving forward. It is not a pleasant discovery. How far down this road doth madness lie? Is it not madness to hope yet for the impossible? And yet to give up hope is unthinkable.