Write Write Write Write Write...

(Did I just date myself with this???)

Seventeen more character journals to write out of twenty-two, baby~

Thank God we're stuck dungeon crawling through a vampiress' castle on the 8th of Nudon for our campaign. It's given me ample time to dive headlong into these journals.

Previously I mentioned dividing my attention between writing the journals and porting over my notes, but after some reflecting, I've decided that my current prerogative is to finish writing before I worry about playing catch-up with the notes. That said, I intend to keep up with the note taking so that I don't fall even further behind, and once I've completed the journals, the approach to the two will flipflop.

Before I dig into more specific details about the journals themselves, I'd like it to be known that I wrote the initial draft for both almost a year ago, which is blowing my mind the longer I think about it. The primary reason I didn't officially upload them onto our Pathfinder Group's server is because my fiancé and I were still working through the month of downtime the party took in the city of Shipton, and I wanted to keep everything chronological.

First World Day 4/20th Uros

There's an interesting challenge between writing in a character's voice as events are unfolding as opposed to navigating their headspace when revisiting older material. You have to block out the growth they've shown since then while recalling the complex cocktail of emotions they were feeling at the time.

A lengthy span of time between the initial draft and the 2nd, 3rd, or 4th iteration can really help you focus on the most important takeaway within a chapter or, in this case, a journal entry. What emotions muddied your mind at the time of writing the initial draft may sharpen into a clearer idea for a 2nd or 3rd rewrite.

For a quick bit of context, throughout the campaign, an underlying tension colored the interactions between one of the player's characters, Flink, and my character, Efiál, which reached its zenith 2-3 days prior to the date of this journal entry.

In a usual, published story, this would be the point where the characters would either set aside their differences and form a bond deeper than most or they separate and the story diverges to follow their separate journeys.

Flink decided to remain in the First World, having essentially gotten everything he wanted, which, in the world of TTRPGs, this most commonly means the player is retiring their character, so there would be no separate journey to follow.

Such an unsatisfying end would likely prompt readers to chuck their book halfway across the room, because it almost feels like the writer has broken some unspoken promise.

I, as a writer, personally raged at how unsatisfying the incomplete arc felt. There was no real resolution for the conflict that had been building for 30-40 sessions. Dedicating 120+ hours to experiencing a character's emotional rollercoaster ride that ends in a sudden, jolting stop can be devastating.

However, this is the world of collaborative storytelling, where multiple people choose the story's direction, and sometimes that means taking non-ideal turns and ending a character's journey prematurely.

1st Completed Draft:

4th Full Day in the First World & 20th of Uros: Deep Night 

Professor, I think you would be disappointed in me. I'm sorry. 

I expended all of my magic, forced myself into another state of exhaustion. I. I had to. All of this pent up frustration and anger, anguish and regret was tearing me apart from the inside, and I needed a way to vent it. I didn't push past my limits, so at least I didn't fall unconscious outside in the cold, but I can't lie and say a part of me wasn't tempted. I might have, had I not made a promise to not worry you like that again. 

I'm just so...angry. I fulfilled my promise. I gave Flink everything in his pursuit to find his sister, and he couldn't be bothered to reciprocate with a, "I hope you find your partner and that he's okay." I can't even say that I wish for his happiness without it dripping with sarcasm and venom. I should have known from our first interactions that he was nothing more than a selfish, jaded fox, so afraid of that which he does not understand he subsumes it beneath the term 'Occult.' I endured his ceaseless jabs for over two months, and for what? 

Because I believed he would help me find clues? I should have gone to The Starlight Festival for my Awakening Day. I should have asked a different question to The Wise One! I should have pushed back harder against his unfair prejudices about me from the beginning, set those boundaries and told him up front that what he does is not okay. But his tunnel vision is so narrow, his sense of compassion so withered, he likely wouldn't have even thought me enough of a person to suffer through such torment. 

Gods, I want to scream. 

What was the point!?

He couldn't even set aside his own self-importance to realize that Valen's predicament is much more dire than his sister's ever was! Well, good riddance, megalomaniac. Enjoy the consequences of your decision when those "seekers of the natural order" continue their hunt for you. I just hope your actions don't invite misery to the First World and Queen Niyamiya's doorstep. 

How I'm feeling: It hurts. Strung along for weeks just to be cut prematurely. We were supposed to be a team. "The Sky Watch." What a joke. If only it was funny enough to make me laugh. 

Days since last Zoning: 0

The overall theme between this draft and the next doesn't change, but the tone certainly does. While this draft contains hints of Efiál's feelings of betrayal, the anger wasn't as punch-y as I wanted when I reread it for editing on Tuesday.

Naming emotions lessens their impact, which, in this instance, I didn't want, so my primary goal was to lean into Efiál's anger and hurt without resorting to whining.

2nd Completed Draft:

Year 5, Day 34

First World, Day 4 & 20th Uros: Deep Night

Professor, I couldn’t gather the courage tell you this in my Dream Message, but I…exhausted myself by venting all of my spells again. I almost pushed beyond the precipice and lost myself to blissful oblivion. Was sorely tempted. But I didn’t think it a good idea to fall unconscious in a blizzard, and I promised you I wouldn’t do it again. I’m sorry for considering it.

My mind is quiet now, but earlier the buzzing was so loud I could scarcely hear myself scream.

I fulfilled my promise to Flink. I dedicated everything to helping him find his sister. I sacrificed not only my time but Valen’s as well. I sacrificed my single question to The Wise One, and for what? A slap to the face and no apology. And to add salt to the wound, he hugs Brod, reassures him, shirks his promise to me and throws it on Brod’s shoulders instead.

He broke his promise.

I hate that gods-be-damned fox. I hate his arrogance. I hate his selfishness. I hate his self-sabotaging paranoia. I hate his smug teasing and empathetically dead heart. 

I hate how much this hurts.

What was the gods be damned point?! Somebody, please, tell me, because I am so…heartbroken. And angry. At him. At myself. He used, abused, and tossed us away once he accomplished his goal, never once considering how we—I—felt. At the very least he could have said, “I hope you find your partner,” but he couldn’t even manage that, could he? 

Well, fine! We don’t want you either, Flink. Nobody here needs you. Nobody here wants you. You’re just a danger to yourself and all those caught up in your paranoia. Good riddance! Don’t come begging us for help when those masked creatures resume their hunt. If they kill Fred because of your selfishness, then her blood is on your hands.

Gods, stop. Stop crying. He’s not worthy of shedding a single gods’ forsaken tear. Don’t give him the satisfaction when you were the fool who couldn’t stop caring, when you were the know-nothing who released him from his obligations to you, when you were the coward who couldn’t stand up for yourself until it was too late.

Not again. Never again. If people hurt me, I’ll tell them they’ve hurt me, and if they show smugness for doing so, then I’ll protect my heart from them. If I want to sit in a garden with my friends for a few hours or attend the Starlight Festival for my Awakening Day, then I’ll make my desires known. If others want to exploit my kindness and generosity for their own personal gain, then I will borrow a page from Kosris’ book and tell them to kindly ‘fuck off,’ because I’m done with the manipulation. 

I refuse to bend to other people’s wills.

How I'm feeling: Bitter. "The Sky Watch." What a joke. If only it was funny enough to make me laugh.

Thankful it’s still the 20th here on the Material Plane. Had anymore time passed, I may have strangled Flink myself if I ever saw him again.

Shaken from being knocked unconscious by Tazynin. Whatever Zreslon did to the Serene Grove, the result corrupted its guardian and we were forced to combat her. We were thankfully able to cure her. I would have felt awful had we ended her life. At least now I can say I’ve met a wyvern. Small victories, I suppose.

Days since last Zoning: 0

While they do name a couple of their emotions in the 2nd draft (aside from the "How I'm feeling" section), I think it adds to the underlying feelings of confusion, regret, and betrayal they're experiencing, which remain unspoken.

21st Uros

For this entry, the tone and theme between the 1st and 2nd drafts change drastically, mainly because I wrote the 1st draft before considering that I might someday put it before an audience.

Many of Efiál's journals are either introspective or analyzing other people's personalities for the sake of understanding them better, so I don't always describe the setting or record the conversations they've had.

That, however, will have to change if I want to eventually put this before others to read.

1st Completed Draft:

Fireday the 21st of Uros: Night 

I wish there was more I could say to Brod to ease his pain regarding Flink's departure, but some experiences are going to hurt no matter how much one softens the impact. I'm just glad he seems to be doing better than when we first entered the mountain, though his sudden deference to my wishes has me concerned. I don't want him to feel as though he's required to follow my orders or example or suggestions, you know? I know he trusts me, but.... 

Actually, now that I consider it, I am wondering whether or not he truly feels compelled to follow my orders. I may have to experiment with this idea some whenever we're in safer territory. It's one matter for him to choose to do so of his own volition; it's another entirely for him to be forced into doing so, and if the latter is happening, then I may have to step in and solve that particular conundrum. I refuse to force anyone to do my bidding against their will. 

If he is doing so voluntarily, well.... What can I really say to that? 

I mean, I never considered myself someone who leads others. I never thought myself capable, especially four years ago! Me? The person who gets stuck in trees? Who dives headlong into mud chasing frogs because their bulbous shape and smooth, amphibious skin is such a curiosity? Who buries their half-orc friend in sand to make him look like a sexy mermaid because it's humorous? I wasn't a leader. I was a child.

And yet people always seemed to think I had good ideas. I always deflected the responsibility by claiming that they were the ones who implemented said ideas, but is that unfair? What is a leader other than a person who inspires people to fulfill a vision? Who people can approach for guidance, knowing they'll be reciprocated with compassion? Who shares the victories amongst everyone and who steps forward to take responsibility when plans go awry? Who knows when to step back and allow those with greater expertise to turn those ideas into reality? 

I'm... 

Valen, I think I'm growing up. 

Of course, that's not to say I won't continue diving headlong into mud to catch frogs, because who ever said adults are not allowed to tap into their inner child? However, I think the strife I've faced on this journey has tempered me in ways that wouldn't have been possible had you not been kidnapped. I have become someone upon whom others can depend, and though I am not a god, I am willing to take charge and lead the way into a better tomorrow, even as I call those who choose whether or not to follow me 'friend.' 

In that way, I'm not so different from Matra and Patra. I am their progeny, their Little Shadow, and I am proud of who I am. Next we meet, I will take their hands, give them both compassionate smiles, and tell them that they have nothing to fear and that I am proud to bear the name Caeleth Vandurai.

How I'm feeling: Buzzing still with excitement. That scuffle with the Ankhrav was greater fun than it likely should have been, and I found a pendant that will boost my connection with both my magic and the shadows! Now that I think about it, I suppose I should attribute my decision to embrace my innate abilities, my 'Occultish nature' to Flink's paranoia and stigma against them. So thank you, Flink, for nudging me closer to that which makes me, 'me.'

To coincide with the above, happy that both Nim and I have the opportunity to flex our shadow muscles. When darkness subsumes us, she must feel right at home. Her presence is such a constant that I sometimes forget to spend time celebrating her happiness and accomplishments. I'm sorry, Nim. I'll try be more cognizant of your feelings in the future. I'm glad that these abilities of ours are something over which we can bond.

Awestruck by the construction of these tunnels, both those built by the dwarves and those dug by the Ankhrav. Woe be to anyone who enters these premises unprepared, and yes, I include Brod and myself in that category. I'm not worried so much about the creatures we'll encounter as I am the lack of provisions. We'll need to be mindful of our water supply and conserve over the next few days.

Grateful for Brod's receptiveness to the darker memory I shared with him to explain my agitation and exhaustion from the previous night. A part of me is hoping that he'll keep an eye out for signs of me slipping into any of those habits and stop me before I hurt myself again. Last night showcased how susceptible I still am to that sort of venting. I don't think it's necessarily unhealthy? As long as I don't overextend like I had on the bridge of the College, and I think I have enough self-awareness now to not succumb to such self-harm.

Days since last Zoning: 1

While there are aspects of this version that I like, such as the conclusions Efiál's drawing on what it means to be a leader, I scrapped most of it. Other opportunities will arise for them to deliberate on what qualities a good leader should possess, and I suspect holding off on that for now will prove more satisfying down the road.

2nd Completed Draft:

Year 5, Day 35
Fireday the 21st of Uros: Night

We’ve begun our descent through the mountain.

Hurfeth, the Dwarven guard keeping vigil over the door near the top of the Emerald Peak, granted us access into the tunnels today, warning us that the dangers within the mountain may exceed those without. I’d take my chances fighting vermin and pests over frostbite and hypothermia any day, given that the blizzard has yet to abate. Besides, who knows what sort of creatures impervious to the cold call the surface their home. At least here we have a greater advantage of surviving.

So, we’ve followed the right path as best we’ve been able as per Hurfeth’s guidance—I would be loathe to get lost in these tunnels—but we hit a snag when one of the paths we were supposed to take had caved, thus forcing us to disobey the directions we’d been given, which may have been a boon in the end? Had we not, we may never have discovered the eggs and, by extension, the seven Dwarven excavators trapped by the spawn of those eggs.

Ankhrav, the Dwarves called them, these crescent moon shaped insectoid creatures protected by thick, spiked carapaces and with mouths like a leech’s slathered in dripping acid. Anyone unlucky enough to be charged by one may find themselves impaled on the large horn protruding from the creature’s head or caught between the large, horn-like mandibles jutting out of its mouth. They can spit acid from a modest range of thirty feet, making them skilled at hunting fleeing prey. Oh, and did I mention they’re as large as horses?

Brod and I were blessed with the fortune of fighting six—seven?—of them.

In our detour from the collapsed tunnel, Brod caught sight of a dull glow down one of the many burrows pocking the one we were traversing. We deliberated whether or not to eradicate the clutch of eggs—I was initially against the idea because I did not wish to attract unnecessary danger or needlessly kill wildlife—but then I thought that eradicating a possible nuisance for the Dwarves could ingratiate ourselves to them. A well placed Fireball could take out at least one of the clutches but would invite a swarm to our location, so we needed to take proper precautions.

Brod tied a rope to me so that I could safely descend the sloped tunnel while he held the end of it, but it grew taut halfway down, and I couldn’t see the eggs well enough to risk casting. I shucked off my pack and withdrew some more rope, which I used as an extension, and that allowed me a clear view of the chamber from which the glow emanated. 

There were too many clusters for a single Fireball to eradicate, and the chamber wrapped around a large, central pillar, blocking my view to the other side. I didn’t want to risk alerting any possible Ankhrav in the area of my presence before I cast my spell, so I lingered near the foot of the slope with the rope tied around my wrist. If not for the soft glow from the eggs, the dug out cavern would have been plunged into darkness.

Methodically, I brandished my hastening wand to quicken my movements once I released the spell. I could give the rope around my wrist a quick tug for Brod to start pulling when it came time for my hasty retreat. All I had to do was find the largest clutch within view and set it ablaze. The only problem was that the largest clutch was about twenty feet away from me, which put me in danger of getting caught in the fire blast.  I backed into the tunnel as far as I could while still keeping a visual on the eggs. Hoping I was out of the blast radius, I activated the wand on myself and cast my very first Fireball.

The explosion of heat was intense, and no sooner than the Fireball detonated did the chamber fill with screeches and hissing. 

With a violent tug on the rope, Brod started pulling me back up the tunnel, but the Ankhrav were faster than I anticipated, and two of them had me pinned between them in a matter of seconds with a third harrying me when it could. Not liking my chances halfway up this choke point, I released the rope and ran down the slope into the chamber, slamming into the pillar to halt my momentum and calling back for Brod to follow me. 

Cut to ribbons, my shin burning from the acid eating through the skin, dripping blood and sweat, I’d never felt more alive than in that moment, Valen. Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through me or the boost of energy from the potion I’d quaffed, or maybe it was that I finally had an excuse to let loose and lean into my spellcasting without that nagging whisper in the back of my mind asking, ‘What if you lose control this time?’

Whatever the case, it was invigorating. I could unleash all of those emotions from the other evening onto these creatures without remorse. Henry and Brod were the MVPs of the fight, felling more Ankhrav than I, but that was fine because I was drowning in catharsis. Brod must have thought me mad from how hard I was laughing after the last Ankhrav escaped. Maybe in that moment I was, but I feel better. Lighter. Free.

I can cast using the shadows without restraint, breathe with them and let them fill the interior of the room during my meditations. I can play with them and weave shadow puppetry to my heart’s desire, because I have no Flink around to fear anymore. Gods, I am downright giddy.

I only wish Brod was as joyous as I am, but he never struggled with the same tenuous relationship with Flink that I had. I think this is the first time Brod’s felt sincerely betrayed by him.

I want to say something to lessen Brod’s pain, but nothing I say would be without spite, and that’s not what he needs from me right now. I am glad that he seems less heavy-hearted than he was this morning, which makes me hopeful that he’ll bounce back after another day or two, but until then, I’ll do what I can to be there for him.

We’ll find a way through this. 

Together.

How I'm feeling: Relieved that the seven Dwarves we rescued are okay and that they not only cleared the way for us but also drew a map and permitted us to rest in the outposts intermittently strewn throughout these tunnels. We shared drinks with them and learned that with this many Ankhrav swarming the tunnels, there may very well be a Queen nesting somewhere.

Happy that both Nim and I have the opportunity to flex our shadow muscles. When darkness surrounds us, she must feel right at home. Her presence is such a constant that I sometimes forget to spend time celebrating her happiness and accomplishments. I'm sorry, Nim. I'll try be more cognizant of your feelings in the future. I'm glad that these abilities of ours are something over which we can bond.

Awestruck by the construction of these tunnels, both those built by the Dwarves and those dug by the Ankhrav. Woe be to anyone who enters these premises unprepared, and yes, I include Brod and myself in that category. I'm not worried so much about the creatures we'll encounter as I am the lack of provisions. We'll need to be mindful of our water supply and conserve over the next few days.

Grateful for Brod's receptiveness to the darker memory I shared to help explain my agitation and exhaustion from the previous night. I trust that if he catches me relapsing into any of those habits that he’ll stop me before I hurt myself again. Last night showcased how susceptible I still am to emotional outbursts. I don't think it's necessarily unhealthy? As long as I don't hurt anyone else or overextend like I had on the bridge of the College. I think I’ve gained enough self-awareness to not resort to that degree of self-harm.

Days since last Zoning: 1

Since a personal goal of mine for this week was to finish and post 2 journals instead of one, I've already posted it to the server, but if I were to sit on it a while longer, I would probably edit the 2nd draft further. I think I could tighten the language and description some more, but for the purposes of a W.I.P., I feel it's good enough for now. By the time I come back around to it for the sake of officially posting it on Fear No More, it'll probably be ready for another series of rewrites.

This Week's Other Notable Accomplishments

• Most of Sunday & Monday Morning: Listed out a series of topics & summaries for a "recap session" planned with one of our players whose character has been MIA for some time and has just returned

• Monday: Recap Session with aforementioned player, ~2.5 hours

  • Will probably have a follow-up at some point, because we didn't cover everything; shouldn't be nearly as long

• BWS @ Home Phase 2 Workouts: Progressively overloading where I can; if using the same weight, pushing to complete one more rep than the previous session

• Walking 10k steps most days

• Meditating most every day, except I forget to do so when my fiancé's off work

This Week's Obligatory Cat Pic: Salad