What if...

Hello there, book! A lot has happened since we last. . . spoke? You know what I mean!

After all the things which happened in Fukai, Locke and I finally made it back to Illias. I must admit, I was quite happy to be back home. Locke took me shopping! Heh heh, I never thought I'd see that day. . . but he had come across a good amount of money while he fought to get me back. So I suppose buying a few things wasn't going to put TOO much of a dent in his pouch! I've got a skirt now, and a new top that Locke picked for me. It was actually pretty fun, just putting the adventure on hold and having a nice day out like that. . . Anyway, we went to Mother's afterward, and I got a new cape as well! Meanwhile, my mother was trying to talk us into settling down. . . Ohhh, I wish she'd just drop it! She knows I'm not ready for. . . that sort of thing. She even made Locke flush! It made me kind of wonder. . . if he. . . well. . . Anyway! It was nice seeing Mother again, but we had to make our way to find Akorrin! We dropped by his Hall, but unfortunately, Forge was there, alone. We bid him farewell, and promised we would get our Master back.

Things at this point seemed like they were going to be a bit more peaceful. . . But I should know better than that!

Locke and I were given a free ride by a friendly merchant. Eventually, we came across this forest and decided to say goodbye to the nice man so that we could make camp. It was beautiful that night, and very peaceful. . . Locke was just about to tell me something as well. Something. . . sweet, I'm sure. But suddenly, our circumstances changed drastically. . .

We were ambushed by Orcs. It's a very long and drawn out story, but Glorak - an Orc we had slain at the start of our journey - had a brother named Orochi. It so happened he made his home in the forest, also known as Vadhat. He and his man took us to their camp and then dumped us in a big pit - but not before taking most of our possessions. . . as well as Locke's lovely braid!

Luckily, Orochi decided it would be more fun to watch us die if we had a fighting chance. I had my dagger, and Locke his sickle. While in the cave, we came across some horrible creatures. . . A giant and ugly worm, rats, spiders! Ew! But we also came across a friendly little Dwarf named Dorhi who hailed for Tuli. Locke didn't trust him much - but really, I don't blame him after what happened to us in the little town. Anyway, while we were in the cave, something terrible happened. . . As we were fleeing the ugly worm, some rocks collapsed. They would have hit me, but Locke shoved me and took the brunt of the hit! In fact, it hit him so hard, that he lost his memory!

I've never been so scared in my life, book. . . Not even when Maroco took me away and handed me over to that beastly Lucio. . . Locke didn't remember me! He was. . . so different. He was nice and caring, and a little bit on the cowardly side. I suppose it might have been a nice change for a while, but. . . to not remember me? Us? Or our journey? At one point, he asked if I could take him home. I felt so sad. . . Our journey was in danger of ending before it had even started. Locke wasn't Locke anymore. Instead, he was someone else. And he was. . . going to leave me.

He also insisted on being called "Maroco" the entire time! Ugh! If he wasn't so naive and innocent without his memory, I would have smacked him hard for that!

Eventually, we escaped the cave in which we were trapped; however, we only found ourselves in even deeper danger, as we were still in the campsite of those nasty Orcs! We decided the best course of action would be to find Orochi and face him directly. After all, we needed to get out things back. . . and if Locke had been himself, it would have been what he would have wanted! Our plans changed, nevertheless, when a goblin caught us wandering the path to the camp. That is when I did something that I hope I'll never have to do again. . .

While under Lucio's imprisonment, I watched the way his women acted. . . They feigned interest, and giggled a lot. They fluttered their eyelashes, and acted shy. They were also quite submissive. . . Taking all of this in mind, I crafted myself a new persona, known as "Raina." Although I'm disgusted with myself now, I pretended to want to be there with those nasty creatures! As their. . . entertainment, you could say. To my shock and surprise, it actually worked. . . I wooed my way past quite a few of Orochi's henchmen with "Raina." However, my plan slightly backfired when the goblin, known as "Tanz," took Dorhi away from us, for "questioning." I knew then that Locke had to save him. I also knew. . . that I couldn't come. I bid Locke farewell after we found our things, and I got changed, back into those horrible clothes I had been given to wear at Lucio's mansion. I even cut my hair to further my disguise, hoping it would buy me some extra time. . . Finally, I found myself in Orochi's tent. Although I was nervous, I suppose my disguise, as well as the determination to save my friends, gave me some extra confidence. I did my best to fool Orochi, but in the end. . . My scent gave me away! Ohhh! I should have known. . . but I did the best I could!

Thankfully, Locke was also buying us time, as he had slayed Tanz and alerted the camp to his presence. . . Orochi left, and this gave me enough time to slay some of the guards and retrieve my staff and Locke's crossbow. Eventually, we found each other, including Dorhi! We were about to escape, when Orochi and his Bugbear guard stopped us. Luckily, the Bugbear was no match for Locke and I. . . And Orochi ran, like a coward! I hope we never have to see that ugly mug of his again. . . but if he's anything like Maroco, he will keep coming for us.

Oh! Did I mention? Just before the fight, Locke regained his memory! The stupid buffoon. . . It took seeing me run in my servant's clothing in front of him to snap him out of it! Don't take me wrong. . . I was thankful that he was back but. . . Grrr! He's such a sexist pig! Even when he's lost his memory!

Sigh. . . I'm sorry for the long and drawn out explanation, book, but I figure it would be good to record our adventures. Who knows? If we survive, then perhaps one day we can tell our families about everything we encountered! And if we're ever slain. . . At least our journey will never be forgotten.

Locke and I are now safely camped out in a peaceful little thicket of trees, very near to Blackcrest. Well, I say safely - but that is not how I feel. I tried my best to sleep, but I kept stirring with each and every noise. I suppose I'm just a bit nervous. . . Vadhat Forest is still nearby, and I never want to go through anything like that again. Anyhow. Locke is sleeping like a baby nearby. Heh, I almost didn't recognize him without his braid when I awoke. I'll have to fix that for him. . .

As I watch him sleep, however, I've started to wonder. . . This "Maroco" character inside of him. . . Is that how he truly feels within? Is he really that caring, and that scared, on the inside? It makes me wonder if all the things he does and says to act tough is just a cover. . . for what he truly feels. In a way, the idea scares me. He was so eager to go back home as "Maroco." It horrifies me to think that he. . . Maybe he doesn't want to travel with me anymore. Maybe he's growing weary of being with me, or the things I do to him. It makes me angry at myself for even doing them! But I can't help it. . . He makes me so angry sometimes. . . But there are other times, like in the tent, or when he regained his memory. . . That I simply want us to be happy together. I wish I knew how to come out and say it. . . I wish I knew what I wanted to say! There are times when these emotions started to overflow in my stomach, and they just reach the tip of my tongue. . . But then Locke does, or says, something that enrages me - and the words and feelings are gone. What is this I feel? I know I care for Locke, but sometimes it feels. . . I don't know. I feel. . . maybe. . . if he was gone, then. . . Perhaps I could not go on.

I must sound pathetic! Oh, book. If he ever reads this, I will simply die! Keep it a secret for me. . . alright?

It's cold. . . I think I may light a fire, and start work on repairing on shredded tent. That's right - I'm not letting Orcs ruin my brand new tent! I paid for it, so I'm going to use it, hmph! Good day, book. May the coming days bring us all some peace, for once.

Memories - Locke

Memories
Locke

As much as I hate to admit it, Locke has played one of the biggest roles in my life – and one of the most important, too. Despite how much he agitates me, how much he snores, how he can't hold down his rum, the way flirts with anything that is female, his ridiculously corny one-liners, the way he can't remember anyone's name, his cocky walk, that disgusting wad of spit he flings at all of the dead corpses of our enemies, and most irritatingly, just the way he is – he is my greatest friend. Now that we have set out on this journey, he has become something much bigger. He's my family, and really – he's all that I have and treasure. . . Just don't tell him that, book.

I was 6 years old when I moved to the town of Illias Upon the Sea, on the island Murrad, alone with my mother. Although that story alone deserves an entry of its own, I will say this much – it was a brutally difficult experience that I shall never be able to erase from my memory. I felt no greater relief in my life than the day we finally arrived at the shores of that coastal capital and stepped into our new home, which would soon be known as “Fae's General Store.” As a child, my mother was always interested in chemistry, despite how unnatural it may have seemed to her family and friends. She excelled in mixing potions and creating serums; therefore, opening a store to sell her wares was the next logical step. As well as chemistry, she also had a deep interest in the arcane, which she undoubtedly passed on to me – however, I digress, as that is also a story for another time.

I was a newcomer in this soon to be harsh new world that was Murrad. Although I had been treated alright by my former neighbors and friends in our hometown, I knew I was different. I didn't know how different, however, until the people of Illias made it exceptionally clear. Despite Illias Upon the Sea being a very multicultural town, the amount of prejudice which still looms – and which I discovered within a couple of days of living there – is heartbreaking. As a half-elf, I was the butt of many sassy, crude, and cruel remarks. I was often spat on and called names by those who saw me. It was bad enough that I was a member of a different race, but being a hybrid of two merely doubled my punishment. However, please do not misunderstand. Illias had its racists, but the vast majority were kind hearted and accepting. I might have been quite happy – if it weren't for the cruel little boy I encountered merely a couple of weeks into my stay.

As a newcomer, I did my best to meet new friends within the town. One day I encountered some children playing nearby the southern beach. Mustering all the bravery I could within me, I drew a deep breath and ventured towards them. Immediately, they looked to me which curious expressions. I extended my hand, mustered the biggest smile I could, and confidently said hello as I introduced myself. As I finished, the children were silent, unsure of how to treat a newcomer to their town. However, one boy stepped forth. He was older than I was, with shaggy brown hair and a confident stride. I found myself turning red and shying away at the very sight of him, a strong feeling of butterflies fluttering in my stomach causing me to feel almost ill. These strange feelings, however, would not last long, as he immediately raised his foot and kicked forth a load of sand. It stung my eyes, and as I began to cry from the irritation, he spat the most horribly hurtful words I'd ever heard flow freely from a child's mouth. Among some of the more cruder remarks, he called me a freak of nature and trash. Suitably for a piece of trash, he then shoved me away as his friends laughed and reveled in our encounter. I ran away that day, tears flowing freely from my eyes, as I hoped I'd never come across the cruel little boy again. That hope, nonetheless, was short lived.

It was not long before I realized Locke was one of the more popular of the children in town. His little “gang” of friends, if they could be called that, were notorious among the other children. It was most difficult to walk alone outside without coming across him. Each time that we met, he was just as cruel – if not crueler – than our first encounter. Soon I would find that his entire family consisted of racists – or, at least his father, who was truly notorious for his intolerance. One fateful day, I ran home, my eyes full of tears as was typical. Usually, I would be greeted at the door by my loving mother, who would take me in her arms and comfort me as best she could. This day, however, I ran through the front door of our general store expecting love – and instead, I was met with nothing. The store was empty – no, it was closed! Fearfully, I ran to the back of the store and just as I began to open the door into the back room, I heard a quiet sobbing. Slowly, I cracked the door and peering in, I saw my mother sat on one of the crates. She was hunched over, with her face in her hands, as she cried. I stepped forward, causing the floor to creak, and her head immediately snapped up. Her face was tear-stained and her eyes were red. Without hesitation, we ran into each others arms and quietly cried together. I would come to find that Longrin Kallidin – the father of Locke Kallidin – had been to visit the new store. Upon seeing my mother at the counter, his face contorted with rage and he immediately told her how he felt about our type. Although she never told me what was said, the fight turned ugly and with a horrible snort, he spat a large wad of spit in her face and finally stomped out of the store.

I could tolerate being picked on, called names, and abused. However, seeing my mother in tears – a woman who was normally the most happy individual in town – was the final straw. I was sad, angry, and above all confused. It had to stop.

One day, I ventured into the Merchant's Circle on my own. On other days, I would have known better – because the circle was one of Locke and his gang's favourite places to play. Nevertheless, on this day, I felt cold and empty. I didn't care what anyone had to say to me. Unfortunately, I was in Illias permanently. Therefore, I refused to be abused anymore. I strolled slowly through the Merchant's Circle, in hopes of finding a small gift to bring the smile back to my mother's face. As I gazed thoughtfully at one of the merchant's wares, I saw from the corner of my eye a figure approaching. Quickly, I glanced over to see that it was Locke, who seemed to be on his own this day. I tried my best to stand my ground as he approached; however, my knees soon began to shake beneath me and I felt sick. I had to get away, and fast.

Without much thought, I spun around and began a fast walk out of the area. I ventured quickly into the trees which surrounded the town center – which gave the Merchant's Circle its name – and ducked behind one of the thickest I could find. My heart was beating rapidly and heavily in fear as I stood in wait, hoping I wasn't noticed. Moments passed, and feeling satisfied that he was long gone, I stepped from behind the tree – merely to crash into the boy's chest with a thump. I looked up in horror as he glared at me, before he gave me a hard shove back, forcing me against the tree after which he cussed at me in his usual manner. Clenching my eyes shut tightly, I tried to keep the tears back when suddenly I felt myself lurch forwards and shove him back. I screamed up at him, calling him many of the same names he spouted at me on a regular basis. Enraged at my boldness, he thrust his hands forward and gave me a another mighty shove. I fell to the ground in such a way that the very breath was sucked from my lungs. I gasped and soon found myself in tears, crying more sadly than ever before. I was exactly as he always said – I was a weak and puny little freak. I couldn't even defend myself against a 9 year old boy. I clutched the dirt from the ground beneath me in my hands and finally mustered enough courage to look up at him. He raised his foot in the air, to which I immediately closed my eyes as I readied myself for the violent blow. Suddenly, however, I instead experienced a feeling of weightlessness. I was brought to my feet and as I opened and wiped my eyes, I saw him for the first time.

At almost 7 feet tall, the old Dragonborn towered above us. He stood in front of me, his shadow casting over my pathetic form, as he held a scared little Locke in his left hand by the scruff of his neck – the boy kicking and punching at anything he could with no avail. Placing his free hand – big enough to surely crush me on the slightest whim! – on top of my head, the man looked down at me and uttered these exact words.

“Come. From this day forward, you two are under my authority. You will be my wards, and without a word of complaint, you shall do as I say. This way – come!”

His voice echoed with such power and force that I felt myself immediately drawn to follow him. We would eventually come to a large building, newly built on the southwestern shore line and nestled into the mountains which surround Illias on its western side. I would come to know this massive, powerful Dragonborn as Akorrin. From that day forth, he was our mentor and trainer – whether we liked it or not. Although Locke never admitted it, I always believed he was too scared to run from him, as was I. Wrong or not, Akorrin succeeded in frightening us to our core so that we came to his training dojo every single day. Although quite wary at first, I would come to enjoy these sessions, as I learned for the first time in my life how to defend myself. Most importantly, I was defending myself against the greatest enemy I'd ever had – Locke himself.

No matter how hard I tried to be his friend, he would have nothing to do with me. He simply treated me as if I were another one of Akorrin's wooden training dummies. He fought me with a cold glare which I could never shake. It scared me, but with Akorrin's encouragement, I kept fighting back as best as I could. Akorrin gave me the very first weapon I'd ever held in my hands – my dagger. Its handle was studded in red stones and as I held it, I felt like an entirely different person. He told me that if I could learn to fight and defend myself, I wouldn't be afraid and the pain of being abused would be diminished. Indeed, merely holding it made me feel braver. Yet, when Locke walked into the building with his sickle in hand – a weapon Akorrin had also given him – all the courage in the world couldn't stop me from feeling afraid. Locke didn't know it at the time, but I wasn't angry at him. I wasn't fighting every day to seek some sort of vengeance against him either.

I just wanted him to respect me.

Six long years soon passed. I slowly made my way to the dojo one day, as I did everyday, still feeling sore from the day before. As I made my way through the front entrance, I discreetly removed my sheathed dagger from my bag. Although I had told my mother about Akorrin and the training I endured everyday, about which she was not at all pleased to hear, I didn't want her to know about the weapon quite yet. The mere fact a stranger had taken me under his wing and was teaching me how to be violent was quite a lot for a mother to bear! She had noticed, however, that I did not come home crying like I once did; therefore, she allowed me to continue my training, despite her disapproval. Nevertheless, I digress. I took my dagger and attached it to my belt. As I looked up, I expected to see my master waiting to give me my orders for the day; instead, I was met with the cold gaze of Locke. Slightly taken aback for a moment, I slowly approached. With his usual bluntness, he uttered:

“Akorrin has gone into town for supplies. However, he wants us training on the cliffs, immediately.”

Without another word, he then turned and began to make his way towards the back, where a path to the mountain side awaited. I said nothing – used to his way of behaving towards me – and followed a safe distance behind him. Soon, we arrived at one of our usual training locations – the cliffs, as we called them. Simply put, the cliffs were located on a steep mountainside, standing before the ocean. In hindsight, it was an extremely dangerous place to be; any sort of fall would lead to a fatality as the ocean below was scattered with sharp and jagged rocks. However, we were disciplined and knew better of approaching the cliffs too closely. In silence, we turned to each other in our usual way and slowly began to spar, as the whistle of ocean wind flew past us.

Shortly into our training session, there came a sudden voice from behind us. I stopped immediately, just missing a swing from Locke's sickle. He soon turned as well as we tried to decipher where the noise had come from. Soon, shadows began to rise from the nearby brush. Five men seemingly from the local tavern emerged – obviously intoxicated beyond their wits. The least drunk of the five looked ahead and immediately saw us staring at them with slightly curious expressions. He squinted before quickly thrusting his hand in the air, which held a bottle of spirits, spinning it in a windmill-like movement as he motioned for the other four to look towards us. Slurring, the man managed some words as he glanced at his acquaintances:

“It's that. . . that Locke kid! And he's got that half-shmelf or whatever wit' em. D'hink you're tough stuff eh boy? Heh. . . eh. . . we'll show you tough, kid!”

To our surprise, the gang quickly stumbled towards us, with violent intentions. Locke sheathed his weapon, as did I, in order to negotiate with the drunken fools. However, they had no time for words. They began to violently swing their fists in an attempt at attacking us, which we first defended ourselves against with ease. Yet, we were outnumbered and confused at how to defend ourselves against the drunks without in turn hurting them needlessly. Suddenly, I was caught off guard. One of the drunks, with an evil cackle, swung his bottle into my back – the bottle smashing on contact as it immediately winded me and caused me to collapse. I felt a few more violent blows before my head mistakenly collided with something hard – most likely a boulder. Everything went black.

I eventually came to. I couldn't have been unconscious for more than a few moments, however, as the men were still there. Without help, Locke was now on the ground and defenseless as the five ganged up on him, kicking him in the head and gut violently. Clutching my own gut – which for some reason ached with great pain – I painfully made it to my feet. I had to think fast before the men could injure him seriously. I clenched my eyes shut, trying to think hard despite the headache which now ravaged my thoughts. I thought back to the things Akorrin had taught me. Above all, I could not harm these innocents – despite how not innocent they really were! Suddenly, I felt a scream flow freely from my mouth as I yelled to get the drunkards' attention. Immediately, they looked away from Locke – who now laid on the very edge of the cliff, clutching himself and bleeding – and looked to me with venom in their expressions. Slowly, as they seemed tired from kicking us around, they approached me.

I hesitated, but I had to think fast. Finally, I thrust my hands forward, muttering a spell my mother had taught me under my breath. They were slightly taken aback, yet they did not stop. I clenched my eyes shut so tightly, praying to any deity that would listen. Finally, a large ball of fire began to materialize before me. It roared as its heat reached and caressed anything within range; the grass beneath it burned and was left black and singed. The drunkards stopped in fright, yet they did not run; in turn, as I struggled to control the fire, I motioned for it to move towards them. Immediately, they were ready to flee. With loud cries of confusion, they bumped and tripped over one another as they began to run quickly away down the mountainside – back down into town, no doubt.

I sighed my greatest sigh of relief as I relaxed and let the fireball before me slowly disappear. The adrenaline rush having run its course for the moment, my head immediately began to pound again as I clutched it for a moment. I had no time however, as I needed to make sure Locke was alright. I looked ahead, and he had slowly began to make his way to his knees. I sighed again, yet the relief was short lived. As he stood, the cliff began to slowly crumble below him; it was sure to collapse.

I ran forward with a cry to which he looked up, but before either of us could respond, the cliff could not bear the weight of Locke's body and it gave. He cried as the ground fell beneath him and I skidded to a halt before the edge. Quickly throwing my hand down, I reached for anything I could grab a hold of. To my instantaneous relief, his hand found mine, which I grasped tightly. As his body fell, I felt a great jerk; however, I clutched the ground beneath me as best as I could. Slowly, I began to slide towards the edge. I glanced down, and saw Locke's eyes staring into my own; he was frightened beyond comprehension. I squeezed his hand in mine and assured him I wouldn't let go. Yet, despite all my training, I wasn't strong enough. My head was pounding and every part of me seemed to ache – ultimately, his weight was too great for me to handle and I suddenly jerked forward, surely to fall down onto the rocks below.

It was then that I felt a sudden weightlessness – much like when I was a child – before I was finally stood safely on the solid ground. Unbeknownst to myself, Akorrin had arrived at the dojo and made his way to the cliff after hearing a scream. He arrived just in time to snatch my falling body from the cliff side, lifting us both up with his great strength and setting us down safely. Never before had we been so happy to see the old Dragonborn as we were that day! Both collapsing to the ground, we panted and bled, exhausted. It was not at all unreasonable when Akorrin decided we had experienced enough, letting us retire home for the day. The look on my mother's face that night was, to put it lightly, quite a shocked one.

Despite the great pain we suffered, I will always look to that day with a smile – for it was that day that everything between Locke and I changed. He began to speak to me, as if I were just another person! Soon, we had full blown conversations, even cracking the occasional joke. The best had yet to come.

It was a few weeks after our difficult encounter. We trained within the dojo, overlooked by the watchful eye of Akorrin. Locke, armed with his sickle, took a hard uppercut-like swing at me with the handle he gripped in his hand. Miscalculating my parry, I only served to dive directly into the swing's path as it collided with my chin with a violent crack. I stumbled back and to the floor, grasping my chin in great pain. Finally, as I shook it off and opened my eyes, I saw a hand hovering in front of me. Locke now stood before me, his hand extended. As I looked up at him, I saw something I had never seen before. He was smiling! As I gawked up at him, he simply bent over and scooped up my free hand, quickly pulling me up to my feet. With a grin, he observed my surprised expression, and said:

“What? Never seen a guy smile before?”

I felt a great smile light my own face as he said those words – as they still cause me to whenever I think about them. From that day forth, we were inseparable. We were friends. Locke and I were destined for greatness. We were a team. Together, we were strong, and Akorrin could see it. Although he watched on that day with his usual stern demeanor, his voice seemed different – slightly more cheerful. What he had worked for all those 6 years had finally payed off: Locke and I finally got along – and now the true training could begin.

. . . Unfortunately for myself, I could have never predicted that the cold hearted boy could change so drastically and become the person I have come to know today: a womanizing, drunk brute with no manners! Mind, we have both changed over the years. Knowing him has slightly drawn me from my shell, I suppose. I began to speak out more often – and I suppose I might be known to spout a few sarcastic remarks every now and then!

Okay, well. . . I say a lot of sarcastic things, a lot of which I never actually mean. I suppose it's a bit of a. . . defense mechanism. After all, I don't want to be hurt ever again, and as I think back to the way Locke once was towards me – I actually get quite scared. To think such a fun loving person could have been so cruel is beyond my comprehension. Yet, even as we continue to adventure together, I cannot take it off my mind. One of my greatest fears is that one day he'll learn to hate me again – that everything his father had taught him about me was true. I may not be the most clever or witty person. Beyond my books, I haven't got a clue about the world. I'm also probably not the. . . most attractive girl on the island either.

Despite the nasty things I say to him, I. . . care for Locke. I care for him and I hope that inside, despite all the women he sets his eyes upon, he cares for me, too. I may call him ugly, or stupid, or even question him on his hygiene. He may keep me awake at night with his snoring. He may eat all of my food when my back is turned. He may spit a lot and make gross noises with his body. He may be a silly drunk and he – well, I digress. In a nutshell, he may be a bumbling fool, but. . . he's my bumbling fool. And I wish our journey could last forever. Because, truly. . . I never want to leave his side. And if I have to fight stinky Orcs and scary giant spiders to keep him near, then so be it! Because every time I feel his gaze or even the slightest touch, I feel at peace, and most importantly, I feel truly happy. Maybe my mother wasn't so wrong about Locke and I. . . Yet. . . No, I could never bear to tell him that! He'd never let me live it down! Grrr. . . Even when I try to say nice things about him, he makes me so mad!

Sigh. I suppose I should end it here before I say anything else embarrassing. So there you are, book. Locke in a nutshell – and trust me, he sounds a lot better on paper than he actually is, that dolt!






. . .And, yes. I don't actually mean that.

Rescue

Oh, book! A lot has happened over the course of a few days. . .

Maroco took me to a horrible place called the Bandit's Close. It was on an island called Fukai -- very close to my own island of Murrad. I do not remember too much of it now, but it was a disgusting hole where thugs and vagrants made their home. The strangest part was this massive mansion which seemed quite out of place -- but much of the same could be found inside. Thugs, bandits -- they treated me with such disrespect! They were led by a frightening man named Lucio. He is a ruthless man. . . Simply terrible. Even Maroco seemed to shake under his command. I soon found myself thrust into a chamber with many other women. They were all dressed quite scantily, and their leader was a woman named Lia. She had a very frightening and commanding voice -- but I wasn't going to give in without a fight! I kicked and screamed until they were forced to take me to Lucio himself. The last thing I remember hearing was his evil cackle, as I felt a hand smack across my cheek. Soon after that, it all begins to go fuzzy. . .

The very next thing I can recall is waking up in a mound of dirt. Locke lied across the ground from me and grasped my hand tightly. That's right -- Locke came to my rescue! I've never been so happy to see that obnoxious face of his so much in my entire life. . . It turned out I was right when I thought I heard him in the factory in Blackcrest, after all. He had faced Madoco and striked her down for taking me. I know it may seem wrong, book, but a part of me truly liked hearing him say that. . . In any case, I was then taken very much by surprise when he kissed me! That's right, he just did it -- he didn't even ask first! Gr, it's just like him to do something like that. . . Yet. . .

I suppose it was the very least I could have done. . . After all, he saved me. As it turned out, I was also under Lucio's mind control, and by the look of some of Locke's injuries, I didn't hold back. It broke my heart to hear him say what I had done, but my body had fared just as badly as his -- so I suppose he didn't hold back either. I'm just glad he wasn't seriously injured. . .

After our reunion, Locke carried me to a village named Tengai, where Akorrin is from, apparantly! (I didn't mention him, did I? Akorrin had joined Locke in his quest to bring me back.) His older brother, Torrinn, is the leader of the tribe of Dragonborn living within Tengai, and he treated our wounds and let us rest. Meanwhile, his men searched for Akorrin or his remains. Unfortunately. . . Neither of them were found. Lucio was missing as well.

We're now on a boat, headed back to Illias Upon the Sea. . . I can't say I'm too happy to be on another sea vessel; however, it isn't so bad now that I have Locke with me. Neither of us can sleep, and since he now knows about you, book, I suppose I don't have to hide that I am writing in you anymore. Oh, did I mention that he also saved you from Lucio's abode? Well, he did! To my great surprise, he said he didn't read any of what I have written within you either. . . I think I may actually believe him as well.

I'm currently dressed in what is possibly the most uncomfortable outfit I will ever wear. It's the outfit Lucio forced all of his servant girls to wear. My feet are bare and cold, and I feel very vulnerable as so much of my skin is showing! Locke let me have his vest to keep warm, but now he keeps staring at me with that silly grin on his face. . . Ohhh, that sexist buffoon!

We've now got a long way until we reach Illias, I'm afraid. I suppose I should take solace in the fact that I'm now safe with Locke once more. In fact, I might actually miss the quiet time we're spending together when we get to Illias. Soon, we will be back on our quest -- and facing the great dangers that lurk out in that big world. Don't take me wrong, though! I'm still excited to be traveling with my friend. . . But I suppose you can say, I'm just a bit tired from all that's occurred.

You know, since we have so long to go until the ship lands, and I cannot find the will to fall asleep, I think I will write one of those memories I talked of a few entries back. . . I will start with the most obvious one -- my memories of Locke.

The end. . .

Locke! I know I heard his voice!

Until yesterday, I was still locked in that miserable room. Yet, during the night, I could hear his voice, yelling. . . Oh Locke. . . I just pray that you're okay! It was not long after, that Maroco appeared through the door. He looked as if he had just ran a great distance, as he was breathing heavily. He said Madoco was entertaining a "guest" and that he was taking me where he keeps the rest of his "flowers." Ugh! I hate that name. . . Although I suppose it's better than the names Madoco spewed at me.

A guest. . . Could it have been you, Locke? If it was. . . Then you better have not had gone off with that disgusting woman! Oh, I'll be so angry if you do! But. . . I guess it would be for the best. I'm inferior compared to her! What kind of match could I possibly be? None. I'm weak and ordinary. I couldn't fight myself away from a few drunken bandits! And for that, I deserve whatever may happen to me now. . . I'm on a ship, but that is all that I can tell right now. The waves rocking reminds me of that horrible time in my childhood when mother and I first came to Murrad. I feel so ill just thinking about it. . .

Maroco. He is so intent on keeping me. He says I will learn to like him, despite how spirited I am now. I don't possibly understand what he could want with me -- but I feel I'm not alone. It seems to me that he may have done this several times already. . . I wonder what sinister plans he has for me? He has mentioned a Master Lucio several times. I don't really understand, but. . . This is my destiny, I suppose. Maybe becoming so sarcastic and snide didn't exactly work out in my favour.

Mother. . . I wish you were here. I need your comfort more than ever. Remember when we used to cuddle on board the merchant ship? I was young then, but I remember it so vividly in my head. . . I hope you can forgive me. I should have listened to you when you told me to forget this journey. I was so stubborn. . . But I suppose at least I can say I died trying.

Locke. I hope and wish you can find happiness now that I am not there to hold you back. . . Maybe I never heard your voice -- maybe it was just my stupid hopes taking over my senses. But hopes are just that. Stupidity. I've truly learned that now. Yet I'll continue to hope until my dying breath. I suppose I'm merely stubborn that way.

Farewell, friend. I hope that after I die, one day these pages will find their way to you, so that you know -- I love you.

I'm tired, book. Maybe if destiny decides to spare me a while longer, I shall return to tell you of it. However, for now. . . Goodnight.

Help me!

What irony. Just yesterday I was wishing for something better -- and this is what I receive!

I've been kidnapped. Earlier today, Locke and I arrived in Blackcrest, a large and lively city on the south side of the island. All seemed well. I enjoyed going shopping with Locke and going to my first pub -- that is, until a strange man approached me named Ike. He wrapped his arm around me and started saying some pretty rude things. Locke got so defensive! I might have found it flattering-- even touching -- if I could still afford such frivolities. . .

Ike and some of his buffoons dragged me out of the pub by force. I'm still not sure where they have taken me. It's a large building and I can hear many people coming in and out. To my surprise, and disgust, I found that the one -- or ones, rather -- behind this petty gang of villains is none other than Maroco and his devilish sister, Madoco. Locke and I defeated them before, and I was hoping we would never encounter them again. . . but no such luck! After his men had their way with my things, they locked me in this room. Luckily, I managed to sneak you, book, out of my bag before they were able to pilfer it. I need you now more than ever, dear friend. My thoughts are so scattered. I wish Locke were here to say something stupid and to comfort me. . .

Maroco is so persistant. He is so insistant that I join he and his gang, and he keeps making funny eyes at me, as well! Ohhh, and I thought Locke was sexist -- Maroco is just vile! Treating me like a sort of prize, it's disgusting! Although. . . I suppose it's better than what his sister would do to me. If it were up to her, I would have been dead already. I can't be too sure that won't happen yet, though. The last time I saw Maroco, he continued to insist on me joining and I spit at his feet. He simply shook his head and with a large grin told me he had a surprise for me. A surprise! He must think I'm daft. Obviously, he's going to kill me. . . Or. . . Maybe something even worse. . .

Locke. . . I don't know if these pages will ever reach you, or if I'll ever even see you again. . . My heart aches just thinking about it. If anything, I wish I could see you one last time and tell you. . . I've never really meant all those nasty things I say to you. You're not ugly, and you're not stupid. . . Sometimes I'm jealous at how much more clever you are than me! I wish I could control my temper, so that we didn't always fight. I wish I could have at least told you that I really do like you. . . You are my best friend. If anything happens to me, I just hope you will at least think of me now and again -- like I always think of you. . .

I hear some footsteps -- this could be it for me, book. Thank you for keeping my secrets, at least for the little bit of time we knew one another. If I manage to survive this ordeal, I'll be sure to tell you all about it! But, if not. . .

Goodbye, book. And. . . goodbye, Locke.

Betrayed

Locke and I... We've done a very horrible thing...

Yurla, her story -- all lies! She was a monster in disguise and forced us to do the most terrible thing we've ever done -- we killed an innocent life! She disguised herself as a feeble mother and took us in; she fed us and warmed herself up to us. We were so gullible. She told us that an evil man, Bront, had taken her baby when she was unable to pay her debts to him. We fell for it... Every single word.

We stormed his home, and killed his wife in cold blood. In our defense, Bront's wife was the first to attack... but we couldn't have known it was to protect the baby, which was truly her own! I'm so full of guilt and... I just don't know. I can't shake it. I was the one to finally hand the baby over -- merely to find that the Yurla we knew was truly an Ettercap in a clever dwarven disguise. She stole the baby and returned to her lair. I just couldn't believe it... I've never done something so heinous before in my life. And I feel so terrible inside...

Eventually, we rescued the baby with the help of Bront and returned them to their home. Bront was not happy and wanted to lock us away, but thanks to the real Yurla -- who was his sister -- we were simply banished from the town.

Unwelcome in Willow's Keep, and expelled from Tuli. What kind of heroes are we? The only place which welcomes us is Illias... Maybe we should simply give up on this quest... Maybe it is a waste of our time. Heroes -- what a pipe dream...

Locke, on the other hand, has taken this much more coolly than I have. Even though he was the one to strike the woman with the final killing blow, it doesn't even seem to phase him at all! But I suppose... Perhaps it is merely a facade to hide how he truly feels? Or maybe he is trying to help me feel better. Or...

Or perhaps he really is a heartless buffoon! Oh, I can't take it! I can't stand feeling this way! I feel so... confused.

Sigh. In any case, we are now camped far away from Tuli, shaded under a tree. It's raining again, and we have nothing but the cover of our bedrolls to protect us. What dreaded luck. Oh, book... I can not possibly imagine what tomorrow may bring, but whatever it is -- I hope it's better than this!

In the mean time, I'll try to cheer up, I suppose. I have to be strong -- strong like Locke.

Yurla and the Town of Tuli

Two days ago, Locke, Esra, and I left Willow's Keep. The journey was very difficult -- Esra is quite fast on her feet! Nevertheless, we finally made it. She brought us to a large hill and right below was the town of Tuli. It's unlike anything I have ever seen. Despite our height, we could see the houses below and they looked so miniature! But I digress. Esra big her farewell and darted back to Willow's Keep. Without us to slow her down, I'm sure she's already made it back by now.

Thankfully for Esra, she left just in time, for it was only moments after that we were ambushed! The most giant, ugly, and disgusting spider attacked us, and for no reason at all! Locke managed quite well, but I came out of it with a terrible bite on my shoulder. Oh, it still hurts when I touch it!

Anyway, that's when Yurla appeared. She's one of the sweetest people I've ever encountered -- and we've only known her for a few hours. She's a dwarf from Tuli, which obviously must be a dwarven settlement. Just as our battle with the spider started to look grim, she appeared with her massive hammer and made quick work of that ugly creature. She then brought us back to her camp, treated our wounds, and made us the most delicious tea. . . before she told us her story. It's a long story, but her daughter is being held captive, the poor infant!

Tonight, we will set off to rescue her. I am not sure of the dangers we will face, but if it'll help this beautiful soul. . . I'm willing to do whatever I can.

. . . Locke is snoring again. Grrr! He's the reason I'm awake in the first place! Although I appreciate her lovely hospitality, Yurla obviously only had a single tent for herself, which Locke and I are now forced to share in order to rest for tonight. It was quite awkward at first -- sharing such a small space with a man. The last time I recall sharing such small quarters with another person was when mother and I traveled to Murrad so long ago. I remember snuggling into her for comfort on the long sea voyage, as I was afraid of the rocking and the great crashing waves which pounded on the little merchant ship. . . But this is different! He keeps snoring and mumbling in his sleep about rum. Ohhh, he makes me so mad!

Although. . . I must admit I feel a sort of comfort knowing he's close. If I were here on my own, with those massive, ugly spiders (oh, I do hate them!) crawling about, I don't think I'd get an ounce of sleep at all. I bet my mother would be jumping out of her boots in excitement if she knew we were this close. Hmph. I can't believe she would see me married to likes of him. Sure, he would make a great husband -- if rum soaked, womanizing, sexists are your idea of a good lover!

. . . Oh no! I think he's waking up! I must bid you farewell for now, book. Hopefully, our journey tonight will not be our last!



P.S. Oh. He was just sleep talking. . . again. That buffoon. Anyway, I wasn't quite done before. I had a thought, during our long journey to Tuli. When my mother suggested I make this journal, she thought it would be a good idea as well if I wrote about my past memories. It would have a "therapeutic" effect of some sort, she thought. I think I will do just that! Today, however, I think I will stop here.

Good day, book.

Under the Moonlight of Willow's Keep

Hm. . . Where do I begin?

My mother used to always tell me to keep a journal. She thought it would be good for me to be able to express my feelings to someone, or something. Heaven knows I couldn't tell her -- when we speak, she barely pauses long enough for me to get a breath in edgewise! Nevertheless, I know she means well. I wonder what she is doing now, back home. . . I wonder how Akorrin is coping without us as well. He is a strong, wizened man, but we were once like his children. I know Locke misses him. I do, too.

Anyway, I digress. I haven't formally introduced myself to you, book. I am Lilanei Serpenthelm -- daughter to Faefindiel Rolonae. I was once a resident of Illias Upon the Sea, a quaint coastal town full of a wide array of people. However, as I sit here under the stars which sparkle through the trees of Willow's Keep, that time feels as if it is now so far away. . .

I am a half-elf studying the ways of wizardry. While I am not always treated in the fairest of ways because of this, I have come to accept it as an inevitability in our small island of Murrad. In the end, I am still proud of what I am, although I admit I am not always so confident. There was a time long ago when not even my friend, Locke, had accepted me. While it pains me to think of it now, I suppose it was merely a plot by fate to bring us together. If it weren't for his prejudice as a child, Akorrin would have never found us fighting -- and we would have never become such close friends and allies! Akorrin changed both of our lives for the better. A wise old Dragonborn, Akorrin was our mentor for well near 10 years. He taught us how to fend for ourselves in the wilderness and how to face the dangerous creatures which lay in it. He even taught me to pick up my first dagger, and how to fight in melee combat!

. . . Admittedly, I am not the best at it, but it was still something I would have never done if it were not for his talented teaching skills. Locke more than makes up for my deficiencies with a weapon, anyway. He is always swinging that sickle around, like a toy, and unsheathing it at the drop of a feather. He never thinks! It frustrates me just thinking about it! . . . But I digress again. He has rescued my hide more times than I can count, so I suppose I should be grateful for him. Despite how much he grates on my nerves. As I write, he is resting within Adiel's tree house, fast asleep. Hopefully, I will be able to keep you a secret from him, for at least a while. I can only imagine how much he would tease me if he found out about you. Ugh, that dolt!

Only a few hours from now, we will be leaving this place. This is the first time, at least that I can remember, that I have ever been in an elven village. It's so peaceful -- I have never encountered anything like it in my life. Illias was always so alive, but here, I feel as if I can truly think. If it weren't for their leader, Adiel, despising humans so much, Locke and I could probably stay here a while longer. . . On the other hand, her sister Esraniel is such a lovely soul. She is so understanding and thoughtful. It is too bad she must continue on her own adventure; she would have been a great asset to us in our quest. She has been gracious enough to offer to guide us to our next destination, however. I wonder what new adventures we'll encounter when we leave this village today. I suppose only time will tell.

Alas, my eyes grow weary. I should probably return to the tree house, and join Locke in rest for our journey later. Besides, if I'm not there when breakfast is served, he'll just eat it all -- again!

Men. All the same!

Goodnight, book. May we meet again soon.

OOC Introduction

Welcome to Lilanei's Spellbook! This blog is reserved for imaginary "journal posts" by my D&D role playing character, Lilanei. Therefore -- obviously -- none of the entries are real. They are completely a work of fiction, created by myself and my husband (my role playing partner, of course!). Enjoy. :P

- Bel