museworks: (Lucrezia)
I cannot decide if I want to write of that party, because Chesric was there and thus I would not need to recount it to him, or if I wish to refrain. I will think on it more.

I agreed to meet Lazirus at the small pond just outside Silvermoon's main gate; it would not be the journey that going to Fairbreeze is-- and would not pose as much danger from Scourge stragglers or forest cats should he get lost-- but it is not yet in the city proper. I chose it as much for his sake as for my own. I still am not entirely certain as to why I extended that invitation, but...it is what it is. I feel a peculiar protectiveness when speaking with him, especially after the dream I had the other night.

Ches told me a bit of Sir Thorndawn (Lazirus' guardian, from what I understand), and none of it struck me as particularly alarming. Some he already knew, though he does not personally know the man, other information he dug up for me. Then again, what is there alarming that an unknowing outsider would discover of Jovan, really? Assessment of Jovan would indicate someone who tends to either seek the path of Retribution or, when necessary, provide healing. As illogical as that latter is, to me-- but I do not believe most others saw what I saw of him.

Small steps toward 'reclaiming' my home city, I suppose. I said before I would not keep running; I have stopped running. Now, I think, I will not only stand my ground, but regain what I had lost.

Vorrick asked what I did before I was a mercenary. I wanted to tell him, but I could not. As it was, I told him more than I have said to anyone-- that I was minor nobility. He does not need to know more, I don't believe. What use would he have for such sordid details? There is enough on his plate, and I have yet to actually see him anyhow. I would not know him in a crowd, nor he me. But I still wanted to tell, because I think there is a part of me that just wants to scream and rage and shout to get it out of my head, off my chest. It is why I write, and why I will at least let Chesric read.

For now, though, the Firelands. My shoulder has healed sufficiently, and I have applied more of the Gilnean woman's salve. I think the next time I meet with her for the exchange I will bring something else. Tea, perhaps. She is a very cordial lady, something unexpected. And one with whom, I think, the language barrier does not matter; there are no words needed over tea.
museworks: (Lucrezia)
I have come to the conclusion that when the time comes for me to allow my brother to read this journal, he may get a headache from the different manners of writing I seem to have used. Sometimes I know I slip into a formal voice; for some reason when I write memories, that voice makes it easier for the words to come out. Proper phrasing, no contractions, and so forth. I don't know why, but if it makes it less difficult to face them enough to write down, and write down plainly, so be it. As it is I can't make myself write too many close together. I think the Tome helps there; even though those two individuals with whom I seem to regularly speak are...quite peculiar in their own separate ways, and the "public" pages are themselves full of peculiar individuals, it still is an outlet. And I surprise myself sometimes when writing, as I had last night.

After closing the Tome last night I dreamt of Lazirus-- the aforementioned "slow fellow". I am not so certain he is slow as much as perhaps naive. I would not count him among the smartest individuals, no, but he seems perhaps...underdeveloped, mentally and maybe emotionally. In the manner of one not yet grown. I have been assuming he is grown, but I suppose-- anyhow. I had conversations with him and with Vorrick-- the peculiar gardener. Separate ones on separate private pages.

With Vorrick, I was glad to see he was as well as he seems capable of being; I know few details about his personal problems beyond there being some unpleasantries between him and 'SnowMoth' from the Tome. And by 'unpleasantries' I mean the latter had the former's hands broken, it would seem. But still wants to...keep track of him, even sent him a new tome after Vorrick had burnt his. It's odd to an outside observer who has only seen the vaguest details.

With Lazirus, I just would like to see him not hurt. He said he was supposed to have started work yesterday, but that he was rebuffed quite rudely when presenting his papers (why did they keep his papers?) and doing what that guardian figure of his said. It seems to be a strange situation and I don't know that I should inquire further, but I also don't wish to see him hurt.

Note to self: Look up information on Sir Andovar Thorndawn of the Blood Knights. Ask Chesric if he is familiar with the name and/or man, as a paladin himself.

My thoughts are very disjointed this morning, I notice, when reading over what I have written thus far. And I had written of a dream. Nightmare, really, though not quite to the cold-sweat, heart-pounding, almost-kill-your-concerned-brother-for-frightening-you extent of previous ones. More of the heart-wrenching variety.

Dreaming. (Also, possible triggery warning.) )
museworks: (Default)
Because OOC, I'm still giggling a little so I had to share the log OOCly, from the IC Twitter Project. "lownoon" is Lazirus Lownoon, played by [livejournal.com profile] vorrick, and "LGFury" is my own Lucrezia Goldenstar. She had told him she was repairing her armor, and that she's a blacksmith who can repair her own plate armor. (In-game mechanics be damned, my blacksmith is not taking the chestplate she made herself to a vendor, especially if it's a cloth armor vendor, to repair! >:| Hmph!).

Lazirus tells a joke. )

All kinds.

Jul. 17th, 2011 12:53 am
museworks: (Lucrezia)
I was writing my latest 'installment', as it were, of my memories of my marriage. It was interrupted by the Tome; rather, I suppose I should say I took a break from writing as I find I need to do sometimes. Especially when here alone, as I am now.

It is a most peculiar thing, that Tome; there seems to be neither rhyme nor reason as to who gets ahold of one. Perhaps various coincidences and circumstances, some like mine in which it is taken from a dead man, some...who knows. I am not entirely certain how this one particular individual found one. He does not strike me as overly intelligent, and I would say it may be best that he live with his mother. I think I almost pity him; I hope she is a good guardian, as he seems to be one who might be easily parted from his possessions if found by more unscrupulous sorts. As I write this we are carrying on something of a conversation in the Tome, and I still am not certain as to what to make of him. He does not seem bright enough to be involved with the Blood Knight order, at least.

I must give the poor soul some credit, though: he has lightened my mood a touch.

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