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Journal: After Wildwind
~ Miss Cherub Chubb ~


Obelisk and Ork Man, First day A.W.

Today I experienced a singularly unsettling fright. In the wake of a supposedly simple and practiced Teleportation I found myself suddenly within a forest I did not know, in a season which was not the one I had left. For some reason which I can only theorize as linked to the miscast teleport, my clothes were in shreds and poor Caterpillar's coat was quite badly singed. Rather than finding myself alone as I would have hoped, I was observed by a brute of an orkish man and then attacked by a small mob of goblins. The ork prevailed against them but sustained a ghastly wound which oozed a viscous black fluid. I was able to cleanse it with minor magic and thought I attempted to dismiss him he insisted that I accompany him to the nearby town of Sarac'la and thence to Arken, which as a port city should be able to accord me passage back to the Halfling island and the Wildwind School of Magic where I was supposed to have appeared. Several hours of torturous woodland navigation later I found myself in Sarac'la, a simple and dirty place, half full of orks and teeming with filthy men. Exhausted and hungry as I cannot ever remember having been the ork man who calls himself 'Walter' fed me and acquired a place for us to sleep. He also introduced me to a beverage called 'rot gut'.. which I intend never to imbibe again.

Three Distinctive Hats, Second day A.W.

I would like to amend my 'intention' to never imbibe of Rot Gut again to a vow and add all other Orkish brews to the list. I awoke this morning with the overwhelming sensation of a near death experience, one I wish to avoid repeating at all costs. Never before has sunlight and a rapping at the door been such a traumatic way to wake. 'Walter' admitted to me the day prior to being a finder of lost goods in addition to other skills he failed to name. The man in the green bowler hat who woke us no doubt wished to make use of one such skill, and he came equipped with the leverage necessary to see that Ork Man was willing. Which is why we remained in Sarac'la today instead of leaving for Arken as we planned. Anticipating a late night venture Ork Man elected to return to sleep, offering me coin to feed myself along with part of an apology for the Rot Gut inspired conversation of the night before. That concluded the pleasant portion of the morning. I innocently attempted to purchase some simple garments more suitable for travel and the wintry weather than the thin orkish garments Ork Man loaned me to replace the shreds I arrived in. In keeping with the theme of misfortune which has plagued me for longer than I can remember the woman who ran the shop I wandered into took it upon herself to 'help' me, detailing in no uncertain terms my unfitness to properly clothe myself and first insisting on silks and velvet which I couldn't possibly afford, then deriding my personal tastes and desire for durability and modesty in my garments, alluding in an obvious fashion that should I garb myself thus I shall never attract a man. As if I wished to, typical. After enduring her copious attentions and dubious wisdom I managed to flee back into the street where 'Walter' caught up with me, cheerfully demonstrating his newly healed limb and offering to take me shopping since he was experiencing a mood of generosity. Perhaps if I had not just spent over an hour in my own personal crucible of femininity I might have been more responsive to his offer, which was made in part because having watched my arrival he knew I hadn't anything of my own aside from my recent purchases. He mistakenly assumed I was simply unused to male attentions, partly true. I am painfully aware that my objections to the various shops he pointed out were flimsy at best, but I couldn't help myself, and unfortunately the shop he finally took me into despite my protestations was a mock front which actually sold copious frilly pink underthings and other garments obviously intended for intimate wear. I ran. I ran into the closest building, which happened to be a jewelry shop, and just stood in the corner crying like a fool. Of all the places to end up, and if that wasn't bad enough he followed me in and insisted I tell him what was wrong. Typical. As if a woman in tears can accurately sum up the crisis that is her life at the insistence of a brute of a man she barely knows while cornered in an unfamiliar place, even should she wish to. He appeared a few measures less generous when he finally let me go and I fled to the alley, consoling myself with my music box and Cat after a good cry. I shouldn't say 'good' its one of those figures of speech that makes no sense. I had a tiring cry and was discussing with Cat whether we should continue to Arken when Walter reappeared. I almost left again but when I returned his loaned clothes he offered me a small bundle, wrapped in brown. He couldn't have known that a charm bracelet is all I have of my mother, but that's what he gave me and I don't know how.. but it changed things. I put myself back together and he purchased 3 sets of warm clothes that I was happy with and a duster for himself when a hat caught his eye. Sort of a bone colored leather with a wide flat brim. He placed a second like it on my head and I found myself perusing the hats as well. Drawn to one in mid brown with a lacey dark green band and a small burst of feathers dyed the same shade, Walter assured me it was a fine hat and I find I'm rather fond of it. We ate dinner at the Potted Plant and what should have been a pleasant conversation became something else. For some reason I felt the need to announce that I wasn't an idiot. From there we covered my dislike of orkish food and drink thus far, or at least how it affects my variety-starved student system, Walter's silk bound hand and that it bears a criminal mark of some kind, how much I hate my name and how neither of us had what would be considered a pleasant upbringing. At that point we decided to retire to our room to continue onto the topic of 'finding lockets' however on the way Walter altered the plan, deciding to go after the man in the Green Hat instead of whoever he had been intended against. Deciding I very much did not want to wait anxiously and wonder if he was coming back I memorized what spells I have which might prove useful in a fight and we headed for the most dismally named building on the docks, the Broken Unicorn. There I managed with amazing ease to draw the man in the green hat out into a shadowy alley near the building where Walter set upon him. I too joined the assault, using a spell I never before would have considered upon a human being, but I suspect he no longer was and the dark blade I carry from the goblins of the day prior proved it conclusively. How I managed I'm not certain, but I managed to catch flesh and slice him with the short blade and it flashed white and the wound it left burned with holy fire. Never in my life did I think to see such an amazing thing, I only wish it hadn't been in the presence of such a creature when I did. He had magic seared into the back of his neck to protect the flesh, and a spell upon himself to return his body to a mockery of life when it fell. Twice we cut him down and thank heavens he only rose the once. Walter did something with the body and we left town at more than a fair pace. Just in time too, since as it turned out a dragon of monstrous proportions descended on Sarac'la just as we left the gates. I have heard of dragons, obviously. I am even familiar with their various designations and I speak their language, as a good many mages do. However I never would have expected to encounter one of such extreme size and I have never heard of a breath weapon with dual energy as this one had. We ran. Ran until we collapsed, encountered a woman who could step through shadows and see in the dark and she led us further yet, stopping only when dawn came to attempt to anneal the dark blade I carry, at my request. She experienced a jolt and bid us seek someone in WhiteHope who may have more luck and Walter named that as our destination before I drifted to sleep.

Dragon-Tainted Daymares, Third day A.W.

I do not recall falling asleep but between the bedroll, blanket, Cat and the fire I awoke reasonably comfortable despite the cold. Walter was cooking breakfast and Cat had deserted me to beg from him when the ork boy approached, a refugee from the wasteland the dragon had made of Sarac'la. Filthy and obviously troubled I surrepticiously cleansed him and Walter offered him a rough sandwich of breakfast which he appeared repulsed by. He told a dark disjointed tale of the atrocities of the dragon, the deaths, the severed limbs replaced by shadow and something else, a 'turning' of men to something else, something with a desire for the flesh of others. I had already set my food aside, unable to continue and asked the child to cease his account when he attacked. He leapt at me, burying his teeth into my arm in a disturbing fashion, with frightening strength for a child, I watched Walter bury a blade in his back and all I could think of was the blanket, that somehow if I could hide it I could imagine he was gone. It was.. good that I did because it was a scimitar that bore through what I presume to have been his head shortly after. I lost what I had eaten of breakfast and did not regret the loss. Cat unfortunately bit the child as well and the black blood of him did something to him, something debilitating which as near as I could ascertain would kill him very shortly unless he had divine help. I messaged the girl from the night before and begged her aid but when she came there was little she could do. She staved off the sickness and gave him a week to live without greater aid. Fucking dog. Anyway, so we continued on to Arken, neither of us wanting to remain near what remained of the tainted ork child. Having awakened in mid afternoon after not having slept until dawn, we made it to Arken by nightfall, only to find that refugees were flooding into it from all of the outlying farms and villages in the wake of the news of Sarac'la's fate. It had to have been at least five hours before we were passed into the city proper, hours of nighttime chill and the surprisingly wearying task of standing in interminable lines. Once within the walls many women were passing out soup and we ate eagerly, Cat especially so, craving both the warmth and sustenance. I find it ironic that the soup which 'cured' Cat happened to be chicken. It didn't seem to have anything unusual in it, that alone rare enough since I came to this land, but regardless I found myself convinced that Cat was much improved and would soon be well with some time to heal. That did much to ease my mind and allow the need which had sustained continued function to fade and I admitted my significant weariness and chill to Walter who found us a place to find some meager sleep for what remained of the night, watched over by the largest man I've seen to date. 'Reaver' apparently a friend of some form of Walter's, also an ork and over seven feet tall at least and with all the earmarks of a dangerous man, despite the soft rhythmic thrumming of his drum which lulled me rapidly to sleep, not that I needed any help.

Mask and Minlora Avoided, Fourth day A.W.

Three nights since I 'arrived' and three mornings I have awakened short on sleep under unfortunate circumstances. Today it was another ork swinging a kick at Cat, I don't know how long I slept, but it wasn't enough. After assaulting Cat the man exchanged words with Walter, who tried to pacify him, but after the ork suggested that Walter and his 'play thing' finish up and leave Walter responded by helping me up before smashing the guy in the face. Typical. The day did not improve considerably from there. I followed Walter down some pretty seedy seeming alleys to reach a healer for Cat. Apparently I need to be more specific when I ask to be taken to a priest. I was not prepared to be lead through a dice hall full of cutthroats to meet with a tattooed woman in a mask who could be more accurately described as 'naked' than 'clothed'. I began to speak my piece regardless but when she pulled out a Minlora deck it was the beginning of the end. Especially considering the mask she wears. I can't quite place it but just the fact that it seems familiar to me proved in no uncertain terms that we would get no fair game from her in it, and considering the number of 'prizes' on her flesh likely not without it either. She attempted to deal further but I was not about to dance like a trained imp for her amusement, nor give up any of my few possessions, especially not the kukri I intend to cleanse. I told her so and it became obvious she was used to letting her ample skin and cleavage do her bartering for her. Nor did I have any desire to trade spells with her after she had toyed with me so, I may have almost nothing to my name, but I have my pride and I'll not share my knowledge with a woman of her breed even to increase my own. I'm too tired. Its one thing to scribe countless scrolls until nearly morning, its very much another to walk all day and night with barely half a night's rest between. There's no excuse for going off on that woman like that, she's not unlike countless others I've met before, and yet I found heat I could not contain rising forth at her manner and her words. An insult in a playful tone is still that. We are not friends, far from it, there is no understanding of unintended slights between us. After announcing that she would see to it that no other healer in town would see us she suggested I pay my 'dues' since I'm not a thief. It made no sense at the time, but after crossing the hostile main room to the door man who had no intention of allowing us to leave it became quite clear. Why is it men must always jump to slight a woman first when they are feeling snide? Do they desire a reaction? Do they think it will affect the man in some way as well? Why not just insult the man and be done with it? I love magic, I find it emminently useful, especially such spells as Prestidigitation, its very nature ensures that it is useful in a vast array of ways. What's more I enjoy magic, the act of casting and the imaginative applications are one of the few true joys I have. That does not include wielding it against others in a harmful fashion however. Sure I practiced with them, and I remember countless lectures full of teachers and their lengthy injunctions about readiness and the necessity of striking at the proper time, how to avoid becoming entangled by an attacker so as not to hamper your casting.. but to actually see the effects of such magics upon living breathing people.. I shouldn't be here. For all my study, I was not prepared for this world, not in the least. I just hope it differs from this WhiteHope we're headed for. I should be grateful that Walter has no qualms about killing when needed, thus far I have not had to strike a mortal blow myself. I should be grateful he has taken me under his wing, I almost certainly would not have survived the wilderness alone. I should be grateful he shows an interest in me and puts up with my increasingly intolerable behavior, but for the life of me I find myself increasingly resistant. Thus far other than innappropriate comments he has made no demands upon me, but I still fear. Three days is too short a time to know anyone, even if you have been through such things as we have in that time. Still, he has been far kinder to me than I would have expected of a stranger, and all he has received in return is anger, hurt and brokenness. No one deserves that. Nor would I wish myself upon them. I don't know what I was thinking. One minute he had decided to tell me about his 'mark of shame' and I was commisserating with him and the next I was telling him things he had no business knowing. Things no one has any business knowing.. I am such an idiot. I should have just said I was tired, heaven knows its true.. 'We'll talk more later' maybe he'll forget.. If only I had some skill with mind charms. Although, he did seem.. protective? At least someone feels bad about it.. other than me. But the last thing I need is someone simpering about it, asking me if I'm alright.. of Course I'm not alright. I know its only been three days, but I thought That was pretty obvious.. Too late now, and its not like I can avoid him.. Fuck. Now what do I do?

Dragon Head, Fifth day A.W.


Drenched Doggy, Sixth - Ninth days A. W.


Tenth day A.W.


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