My dreams were more than dreams again last night, I feel that the
further I travel from the land of my birth, the closer I become
to the lands I travel through. First, the dream of the strange elf
in green at the building in the woods, before we reached the barrows.
And now this, a dream of a beautiful elven woman, an almost sensual
dream, one in which had I been male I would have no doubt appreciated
greatly. But I dreamt of a tower above Lake Nenuial, a red flag
flying. My family's holding. I wonder, whose dream was I dreaming?
A noble's perhaps? A royal of this once fair city? And then a ring
dance, fast, urgent, "the blood of life must mingle with starshine,
turbulence and wonder". I wonder too, what that means. I find
myself swimming through water, undisturbed by the lack of air. She
is beside me, clad only in her hair, and the expression in her eyes.
Oh, those eyes. She talks of lakes, of all waters, of how this lake
is but illusion, of how this lake is herself
I spoke of my dream to Hadrell and Iorwenawen. Hadrell possesses
a quality of understanding such that I find it easy to discuss such
unusual events with him, while Iorwenawen appreciates them, finding
them intriguing and possibly amusing. They seemed to think the Elven
lady a Maia. If that is so, then I have been honored, whatever the
strange meanings within the dream.
There was a fight today. I know this because Erethor was badly
injured. I saw little of it, not for cowardice, but for want of
speed. My riding skill has improved but little. By the time I reached
the fracas, there was naught but blood and bodies left. He rides
off all too hastily, little thinking of consequences, or that others
may depend upon his knowledge for their survival, or indeed that
he may put this entire quest in peril by his actions. Yet we have
all acted hastily at sometime, each done something foolish.
Again I am discomforted when I think upon the original reason I
was given for being here. Having watched both Erethor and Hadrell
for some time now, it is becoming more apparent still that there
has been little danger of the two parting company (Erethor's rash
and unpredictable maneuvers being the only exception) and that there
has seemed some, if not friendship, vague semblance of respect for
most of this journey. Yet this journey has served to strengthen
me, and if I survive, then it may strengthen me still more. I am
uncertain as to my limits, their boundaries seem to have expanded
We made camp, and then, unable to contain my curiosity any longer
- as I wrote earlier, we have all acted hastily - I persuaded Hadrell
to accompany me down one of the spiral staircases we'd come across.
After all, how dangerous could a library be? I should have remembered
sooner our encounter with the paper demon in the remains of the
library at Tharbad.
The steps were trapped and we retreated downtrodden and with burnt
feet. We took time later to mark the offending step with some of
my ink. I need to purchase more at the next opportunity.
This morning I felt it was prudent and polite to explain one of
my magics clearly to all, that of mind speech, to my companions.
Firstly they would be aware that it would be me doing so, and secondly,
and this I deem more important, given Hadrell's proud bearing and
Erethor's general standoffish demeanor, that I would not be trespassing
within their minds were I to use it. Hadrell seemed somewhat impressed
and intrigued, Erethor made little of it, but he raised no objections
- which was fortuitous given later circumstances.
Our second descent into the library somewhat later also went none
too well including my scrying in the waters of the fountain for
an answer shortly after descending. This time we were attacked by
large moving stone beasts. By all the gods, this library would have
been hauntingly beautiful once, many years ago, but a deadly beauty
at that, with dangers and traps, twists and we were looking for
the only thing of immediate interest here, the scroll.
We had left Erethor waiting at the surface, and all too soon came
up against the stone beasts. Myself and Iorwenawen were little able
to do much to them, but it was down to Hadrell's brave actions that
we were saved. In desperation I reached for a door, only to find
it trapped. Still, desperate times call for desperate measures,
and undeterred we eventually shut ourselves in a room with a skylight
in the ceiling. Rather than risk more trouble I called out to Erethor
using my magic, and he responded shortly afterwards, much to my
surprise. A rope was thrown to him, and he retreated, to throw the
rope down to us from the skylight.
Perhaps tomorrow shall prove correct the old saying "third
Last night, still haunted by the strange dream I tried to little
avail to work out its meaning. I suppose some things are not meant
to be, certain questions to remain unanswered. This frustrates me,
but I will learn to deal with it given time, and, no doubt, increasing
dangers. Thankfully however, one of our questions was answered,
and how! I now know where we are to head, and I have a clear image
in my mind, for third time proved lucky indeed.
We battled through more of the library's traps, a whirlwind, and
at one point Erethor became temporarily blinded by magic. I had
had a vision of a room this time, oval and painted cream and it
took much searching through rooms painted in various colours, each
with a different theme. I dared not tally and look too long, as
I knew we were on dangerous grounds, and that we had not the time
to research each area. Perhaps one day I would like to return here,
and find out more of this place of magics.
Finally we came to the room that I had seen, and although the scroll
I was looking for was not initially apparent, we quickly found where
it had fallen. I could not help myself, I reached out and opened
I find myself riding a horse through a field - my first thought
is that I shall fall off, my skill has improved but marginally -
and as we ride, ducking a branch, we head towards a hedge. The steed
rises and jumps and I fall
..to find myself upon a peculiarly
lumpy, sandy coloured beast in a desert. It's hot, the sun's beating
down upon me, too hot. I feel a great thirst, and as if my surroundings
have heard my need there is suddenly a water bottle in my path.
I reach and grab it, gulping down the delicious, cool water, and
I close my eyes relishing the taste
..opening them to another
different scene. This time I am riding high on an Oliphaunt in an
area of thick lush greenery, and it plunges through the strange
landscape towards a clearing and plunges itself and me through a
and then I feel chill winds and snow. And this
time I know I am where I should be, an icy plain on chill shores,
a promontory, and a cave into which a bear is heading. I look up
and there is another figure here besides me. An old man, holding
a scroll, which he gives to me He says "To this location you
must travel again, but next time in the waking world. I now command
you to awaken from your dream." And I wake
Hadrell was holding me, a look of concern on his face. I think
he must have caught me before I fell. I think I must have worried
him. I still held tightly to the scroll, although on closer examination
it had changed and drained by the seemingly non-physical exertions
I could not translate the words that had appeared on it.
We made it out of the library, with few further mishaps, and I
rested a good while, worn and battered more than I had initially
realized. Hadrell called upon his god to heal me and when I had
explained the strange journey that I had taken, all four of us set
to discussing what we should do next. It seems that the scroll was
guiding us to Forochel and that there were two, not one items for
which we were questing. Between myself and Erethor, who I grudgingly
admit can be most knowledgable in certain areas, we pieced together
a little history and the location made some sense.
I did not however look forward to my future prospects - firstly
a hard ride to Bree, then to Tharbad to speak to the Commander Cillas
and to arrange a sea journey
It has been a long hard few days' ride since the last entry, I have
had neither time nor inclination to write before now, but write
now I must, for I have learned things that may yet result in dire
I had a disturbing dream in the early hours of this morning. Sometimes
the truth will out through my visions, sometimes strange dreams.
This however, was not so much a frightening dream as a frightening
revelation of the time in Dunland, where I had spoken up for our
party, saying what I believed was the truth, only for it to cause
anger with Hadrell and Erethor, and a potential death sentence for
us all. At the time I did not know what was wrong, that I had spoken
lies, yet my comrades were furious with me. Now I understand why,
my memories had been somehow changed to suit another's more nefarious
purpose. Everything I had said was false. No little wonder they
were furious. My previous innocent duplicity had further served
to fan the flames.
It frightened me, that we could be a danger to ourselves in this
way, and that someone could have such power over any of us. I desperately
wanted to speak of this to the others, but I couldn't think how
it would be possible without further angering Erethor. I needed
to talk with Hadrell alone, Iorwenawen was not affected by this,
we'd met her whilst escaping after the trial. I offered to journey
with Hadrell to the Smithy to collect his shield.
Hadrell listened well to what I had to say, he is fair of mind,
and he too looked as concerned as I. If anything should happen now,
he at least is warned, and the others may listen more to him than
to me, concerning this. I consider him a friend, more than before,
and I would trust him with my life.
We have been traveling as fast as possible, stopping for a much
needed rest overnight at the most hospitable Prancing Pony, where
I do believe Erethor was found favourable by a maid! Who would have
thought it? Yes, underneath the grime his face may be handsome,
but as a person? Perhaps she would do better wanting to hug a stone.