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 Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2008 9:25 pm
God. I pray to you this day, with eagerness in my heart. Though my gifts may be small, I pray that I shall find the means to utilize them to their grestest potential. I pray for your strength and to one day prove myself worthy to you. May you succeed in your gaols and may I serve your purposes in any means you see fit. I pray my God that I shall gather to myself enough strength that I may be a useful tool at your command.
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Posted: Wed Sep 24, 2008 3:40 pm
Journal Entry Eight
It has been seven days since I have written in you Diary. This time has been spent refurbishing my home. Surprisingly the fire of Glikkak's slum building has served me in more ways then just the one. Slabs of stone are mixed in with the ash and garbage remaining behind. I have been toiling very hard to drag these slabs over to my little hovel. I have managed to erect a entierly new room to my small home. Now I have two rooms! The first room is still the same one I have lived in with my mother. But by stacking and wedging the stone remains of Glikkak's building I have been able to create another room attached to the first. In order to enter the room I must get on my hands and knees and crawl in through a small gap. Inside it I have stacked all the pillows and pieces of material I could dig out of the burnt buildings remains. I have busied myself dragging other bits of rubble to my home and steadily I have buried it under a heap of stone. It is my hope that by making my home hidden in this manner I will be overlooked by the nobles that often come to spill what blood they wish. My room will be well protected from any drunken sops and I will be able to guard the single enterance well. The room is actually very comfortable. I have moved my important possessions here. This being my idol and journal. I have even moved my glass ball here.
I write now to say that I have lost all fear of this ball. In fact my fingers tremble with the desire to hold it again. I find it calming to stroke my fingertips over it's smooth surface. I even caress my cheek with it at times. I know now that I must practice with it, in order to strengthen this power that I have. Once I have learned how to use it...I am certain a path will open before me. I am his servant and I have prayed long to him to be useful for him. Now I have a way. I have a task! I will make my mother proud in that I shall become a master of this power. Then I shall see exactly what He wish's me to do...
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Posted: Sun Dec 28, 2008 9:12 pm
Journal Entry Nine
I am doing well. Which surprises me greatly diary. Normally when I approch merchants, seeking odd jobs to do, I get chased away or they bode ill will towards me. I remember this one time when I was younger. A older drow had me come around to the back of his wagon. He said he had a job for me to do and I did not have the common sense to be cautious. If my mother had not come to check up on me I can not say exactly where I would be right now. Needless to say the job this other drow had in mind required me on my knee's with a exceptionally unpleasent taste in my mouth. I won't go into this any further, as recalling the event has left me feeling a bit sour in the gut. I still feel that cold uneasy sweat and the twisting pain in my stomach. God. I remember the fear I felt. The uncertainty as to what would happen to me. I shudder. I shudder diary. Even now as that damn drows glinting eyes and self assured smile is recalled. No more. I do not want to think of it anymore.
Instead I will try to refocus on what I was going to write before getting side tracked. As I was going to write, I am doing well. When I seek out a job in the market, I seem to know which drow to stay clear of. As I talk to them, I get...this feeling. Can I trust them? Are they planning to send me someplace that will be the end of me? I can't tell you just how dangerouse being a delivery boy can be. Mother warned me it was foolish to accept these jobs. The one I deliver to could mean me much harm and she would not always be able to watch over me. I know this is true Diary...but...lately it just does not seem to be half as dangerouse as I know it to be. I wonder why? Each job I have taken only seems to reward me well for my efforts. A few of the merchants have even praised me. With what you can count as praise that is. Being told that I am preferred for the deliver of certain good I take as praise you see. I think I am obtaining a bit of a reputation for being reliable. I think this may be a good thing for me?
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Posted: Sun Dec 28, 2008 9:14 pm
Journal Entry Ten
It has been well over three weeks now diary. I have become comfortable in my hovel and I have become used to the feeling of a satisfied belly. I have new cloths, things I was able to purchase myself with the extra coins I had. I have never felt so warm before. Rothe hide, when properly treated, can be very soft and warm. It should not wear out before I outgrow it.
I have also been practicing with my Seeing Ball. I am not certain what to call it just yet. I do know that I must obtain a certain mental detachment in order to catch any glimpses in my glass ball. It is very hard diary. I feel frustrated with the obstacles clearing my mind presents. I almost had a clear vision yesterday, but I can not recall any of the details. I wonder what I look like when I enter my trance. Do I speak? I don't know and I do not trust anyone to share with them my experiences. I feel very vulnerable in this state. I will continue my practicing and see if I can manage better control of my Sight.
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Posted: Tue Dec 30, 2008 10:33 am
Journal Entry Eleven
Well, I have achived it. After weeks of attempts I have managed to See something. It was rather inconsequential though. I merely saw a ally way in which three drow were clustered. Two were attacking the one, I saw the flash of a House Insignia upon the one, though the others had no signs that I could see. My vision was short, but oh! The clarity of it! I could hear the ragged gasps and the choked cries of the attacked. I could smell the blood! I am not certain what to make of this attack, but I will definatly put much consideration into it. There has to be a purpose behind it.
There is something that dulls this victory though. I loath to admitt it but my first real success must be credited to the alcoholic drinks from the low market. Normally I do not drink. I rather dislike it actually. I never became fond of the alcohol's taste. What possessed me to try drinking? Desperation perhaps? A deep desire to make some sort of progress? I believe this is true. It worked, but I will keep attempting to bring on a vision without the aid of mind alering substances.
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Posted: Tue Dec 30, 2008 10:37 am
Journal Entry Twelve
I have made a discovery today. As I was tidying up my home I discovered a hidden compartment in the floor. You would think that perhaps I would have noticed this by now right? Ah, but here is the strange thing. The compartment was in the floor under where my bedding once laid. I noticed it only because I had determined to scrub all of the dust and dirt from the floor and I noticed the slight gooves as I was washing the stone clean. When I pried open the simple covering, I found wrapped in some rough hide and bound with rawhide strips a small black book. It is of a surpriseing quality too! The cover is sleek and highly polished. It feels almost..well.. It feels as if it were made of glass, but it is as pliable as leather. I can not help but notice the similarities between it and my Seeing ball.
Did my mother know? Did she have some foreknowledge herself as to my future path? I am ashamed to admitt that I cried as I held that book. Opening it's pages I found embossed paper with a delicate script. It is a book of prayers and instruction for a novice priest of Vahrune. I am overwhelmed. You know I had not realized how lost I was until now? Simple prayers are not enough for the Masked Lord. I should have realized this sooner. As I sit and write my fingers long to stroke that amazing book and peek within at it's secrets. Mother, did you intend to teach me these things when I grew older? Or was my resistance to your original teachings cause for you to hide this book from me? Had I given you the impression I was not worthy?
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Posted: Tue Dec 30, 2008 10:47 am
Journal Entry Thirteen
My head simply swims. Until the finding of my holy book I had been acting on pure instinct. Once I discovered the book many things changed. For example, the senses I had obtained in concerning other drow as all but vanished. I can still see through to the true nature of other drow, but only if I focus upon seeing past the veil of their flesh. It goes without saying that the most common sense I get is that of evil. Ha! That only makes sense! I have practiced this sense and have gotten quite good with it. I can determin the darker evil drow from those that are not quite as dangerouse. I do not know what good this power is...but... Well.
Here is a odd thing. I saw a drow today (This is why I am writing this in fact) and on mere whim I used my power. I expected the usual feedback. Some sort of evil. The greedy type, or the hateful type. Maybe even a sadistic evil. I recieved no such response. I nearly dropped my package! I sensed Good from this drow! I stood still and stared at him for a good long moment. He was alone and watching the crowd. I think he was a bit nervouse? I watched him as he stepped away and..well.. I followed him of course! I had never ever come across a drow like him before! A GOOD drow? Impossible! Even I am evil in nature (Yes I cast this spell on myself out of curiousity) As I slipped down the allyway behind him I heard something. A scuffle from around a corner. Peering around it... Why! It was quite a shock really! The drow I had been following had been accosted by two other drow. As I watched one of the attackers pulled out a object and clipped it onto the good drow under his piwifia. I was transfixed as the pair finished the drow off, and vanished down the ally. I was rather curious, as they had not bothered to rob the drow. It was as I was slowly creeping up on the prone male that I realized the familarity of this whole situation. I had seen this happen before. As in Seen. This was my vision! Kneeling I gently nudged the edge of his cloak aside and there beneath was the House Insiginia that I had Seen before. It took me a few moments to place it as one of the minor Houses. Obviously this was a set up of some sort? Though I could not understand why. Not until I gently nudged the dead males shirt to the side and spied a glimmer of silver.
When I lightly tugged the silver chain from about his neck I could not help but feel my mother would have been proud by the lightness of my touch. When I finally managed to reveal the necklace's pendant I believe I came upon my answer. A silver sword striking through a stranfe scyth like shape that I believe is to be the resembelance of a 'moon'. This male was a worshipper of Eilistree. And his attackers had placed a House insignia upon his dead body. It would prove very devestating to this House should the body be discovered. The question was...what should I do?
Well... What did I do? I took the insignia of course. I pocketed it myself and slipped away. Whatever plot there had been against this House I feel I had perhaps subverted. What made me feel so good about the act was those two drow would never know who had removed the insignia. Perhaps...ah! Now I have had the greatest of ideas! I am going to use the insignia to see if perhaps I can scry into the House. If nothing else I can use the stolen object to my own advantage, so long as no one ever discovers it on me.
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Posted: Tue Dec 30, 2008 10:52 am
It happened quite by accident. Divintra was not even certain why it was he felt moved to speak.
He had just finished making a delivery to one of the ale houses of Menzo, the proprietor was one that Divintra had on a few occasions had fair dealings with. He was the typical male drow, minus one eye and one ear. Rather ugly and intimidating in appearance. He ran the tavern as a front for a group of thieves. Divintra wouldn't call them a guild, as that would insinuate that the thieves had a established hierarchy and chain of command. As far as Divintra could guess, the thieves were just a group of like minded drow that worked together in teams or pairs to pull off small thefts. Divintra personally attempted to keep his distance from such activities, but he could not deny the fact that out of all the professions that a drow in the underdark could pursue, he felt more favorably towards those of the thief profession. Perhaps that is why he stopped.
He had delivered the cask of flour to the cook, and had turned to go. As he placed his hand upon the handle of the back door, his sight wrenched dizzily. It was as if someone had pulled his eyeballs out and spun them around until he felt sick. It was a harsh way to begin a vision, hardly the smooth melting of sight to Seeing that he was used to. It most likely had to do with the fact he was not using his ball at the time.
As it was he lost control of his sense of sight. His vision...it was quite unrefined. He saw the door as he was looking at it, but there were burn marks all over it. He turned slowly, and the kitchen revealed itself. The cook and his slave helper were dead. The cook with his throat cut and the slave with his belly slashed wide. The sight turned Divintra's stomach. Divintra's vision moved on, and he saw the tavern room itself . The place was a wreck. Tables smashed and glass everywhere. The barkeeper laid in the middle of the room, doused with the drinks he often served and set aflame.
Divintra felt sickened and frightened as the vision continued. The tavern was quickly being consumed by flames. These flames did not touch Divintra though. He passed through them and into a supply room. Within this room he saw a group of thieves, bound hand and food, with broken furniture stacked up around them and copious amounts of oil drenching them. They squirmed and writhed pathetically against their bonds as a figure standing nearby struck at a flint and steel. The figures face was fuzzy, though he was able to determine a set of scars running from it's left ear and down it's neck. The flint dropped a spark into the oil, and with a searing flare of light the room filled with flame. Divintra heard muffled screams of agony...
His sight returned to him, and he found himself on his knee's. His fingers were pressed to the floor and his purple eyes were staring at the ground before him. The cook stood nearby, a knife clutched in one hand defensively. As Divintra looked up, the slave came scampering into the kitchen with the owner right behind him. He heard the slave start to speak quickly to the owner, but the cook quickly cut in. He pointed the knife at Divintra, the tip of it trembling as he spoke.
"The boy... He started speakin funny. Something about fire and..and...blood. His eyes were glowin'" The cook said.
Divintra had reclaimed his feet, his white face pinched with fear, and darted out the open door. He heard the shouts of the cook and owner. Calling for him to come back. But Divintra slithered through a side street and hid himself in a niche he knew of. Soon after he heard the sound of feet running by.
Divintra hid there, his heart trembling in his chest and confusion muddling his thoughts. He had never ever had something like that happen before! Never! Why had the vision come? Why? He hadn't been calling for it. It wasn't like in his dream. As Divintra calmed himself he felt he knew the uncomfortable reason. He was not meant to keep this hidden. He was supposed to be using it. Divintra closed his eyes and swallowed the sickness as best he could.
So...now here he was. Standing back upon the doorstep of the tavern. The door was closed, but at his touch it swung open. The slave, nearest the door, looked up and gave a shriek of fear. Which of course alerted the cook, whom again snatched up his knife. Divintra raised his hands, attempting to make the two see he meant no harm. But the slave again screamed, this time though he threw himself under the center table. What? Divintra was no spell caster!
"I..I...could I speak with..the owner please?" He stammered uncertainly. The cook did not give him any sort of answer. But fortunately for Divintra the slaves screams had alerted the already on edge owner. He came through the kitchen door, wielding a nasty axe that Divintra needed no help imagining how easily that axe could cleave through his entire body if the owner wished it.
"Please! I just..I want to talk!" Divintra supposed it was a little too much to ask for the men to believe him on his word alone, but the owner did lower his axe. He gestured for Divintra to follow him, which of course he did. The owner led Divintra through the kitchen, the slave was huddled under the table muttering some sort of prayer he figured, because it sounded like he was repeating himself over and over. Passing through the door, Divintra recognized the room that the owner led to from his vision. Thankfully when he opened the door there was no group of men prepared for a funeral pyre inside. Though there was a group of men sitting stiffly and staring at him.
Divintra's eyes flickered around the table that was present. The men were bent over what looked to be hand sketches of some building. Since Divintra rather valued his eyes he purposefully kept his gaze off the contents of the table. Instead he looked at the men within. There were five of them there, though there were three other chairs that were empty. Eight thieves? Well, it would make some sense for the thieves to hold with the superstition of the lucky number, personally Divintra did not believe the Spider Queen cared whether there were eight or nine when she regarded who to show her favor for.
The owner motioned for Divintra to step forwards.
"This here is the boy I was just telling you about." He informed the group. Divintra suddenly found himself the object of a good deal of speculation.
"Him?" One of the thieves asked, his fingers tapped on the table top impatiently.
"Tell us what happened boy." Another asked. His red eyes seemed to fix very intently upon Divintra. He stood in silence for a moment. He had returned to explain..what? What he had seen? What did he hope to gain for it?
"I...saw..." He started, then paused. All eight sets of eyes pinioned him to the spot he stood. "I... I can See things..sometimes. When I was about to leave...I Saw something when I touched the door." Divintra cast his gaze about the room. He saw, for the most part, disbelief. hey thought he was lying. They were only trying to figure out why he'd lie. As Divintra cast his gaze to his side, he was surprised to see the look upon the owners face was...different. He was..interested? No...Excited! His expression betrayed barely concealed excitement.
"What did you see boy?" The owner urged him. His head nodded as if encouragingly, but the slight shift of the axe in his hands held more meaning to Divintra. Tell his tale or else! He swallowed a clinging breath and began to hesitantly describe what he had seen. As with most of his visions, the images had begun to fade in his mind. The clarity that he knew he had seen the vision with was more fuzzy now, but he tried his best to add as much detail that he could.
As he spoke, Divintra was aware of the different subtle responses he was getting from the gathered men. Disbelief for the most part. Scathing suspicion that made Divintra's back hairs rise.He rather wished he had time to use one of his prayers, to somehow give him a bit of a edge to these dealings. Simply knowing the men before him were dangerous was not entirely helpful. It was when he described the lingering face in his memories that things changed. Divintra could taste the vibration in the air of alarm and suspicion. Eyes flickered while fingers curled. There was something about the male he had described that had alarmed them. He felt a heavy strong hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw the excitement in the owners eyes was replaced with a furious light. He expected that at any moment that axe would swing on down and split him in half.
The blow never came. Instead the owner lifted Divintra up by his shoulder. His toes dangled scant inch's off the ground as the powerful drow crossed the room to a cabinet and with his opposite hand pulled it open. A cluster of over cloaks hung from wooden toggles along the insides, and Divintra found himself thrust in among them. He stumbled as he dropped to the floor, his hands spread to catch on one of the cloaks, and he turned in time to see the doors close behind him. He felt a moment of frightened panic, until he rationalized that he had only been placed in the closet so the owner could talk with the other drow privately. Being locked in the closet ensured the little albino drow would not easily slip away.
It certainly did nothing to calm his nerves though. The longer he stood in the closet the more on edge he felt. There was no telling what the men outside were talking about. The truth of his vision? What to do about the future he had foreseen for them? How best to get rid of him? Divintra's mind cruelly played out a horrific death where swords were thrust through the wood of the closet to skewer him. He shivered and slunk down into a corner of the closet in an attempt to make himself as small as possible.
Divintra realized, as he sat in the darkness, that he was missing out on taking advantage of the fact he was alone. He dug his hand into his pocket to touch the glass ball within and he closed his purple eyes. In the darkness of the closet he whispered a pair of short prayers to make use of the powers he had better learned to focus. Now he felt better! With his prayers cast he felt a sense of minor relief. He would not know immediately if he was going to survive this foolish endeavor or not, but at least he had upped the chances!
The doors of the cabinet opened after what seemed like hours. Divintra had found himself drifting off, and it was the sound of the doors popping open that startled him awake. He had to admit that he felt a flush of embarrassment when he looked up. Four of the men, including the owner, were looking down at him in the corner. He had somehow managed to pull down most of the cloaks and formed a bit of a nest to rest on. Once again the owner reached out and hauled him forcefully upwards with his face painted a light pink tinge. Divintra forced his eyes to lift and meet the gaze of the owner, but when he attempted to ask if he would be allowed to leave his voice caught in his throat.
There was a look in the men's eyes that unsettled him. He almost forgot about using the power of his prayers from earlier. Unfortunately, as Divintra attempted to determine what sort of action would yield best results (Attempting to break free, or allowing himself to remain subdued) he realized to his dismay that too much time had passed. The time of effect for his prayers had run out and he had been lulled into a light slumber when he should have been refreshing the spells effects. The stressful worry knot returned to Divintra's stomach.
As it turned out, Divintra was not to be allowed to leave. The men escorted him to a section of flooring that pulled away to reveal a hidden tunnel below. He was taken down into what seemed to be a sort of hidden vault. Chests and boxes and barrels were stored up in neat rows. Erected in a corner was, much to his growing alarm, a iron bar cage. One other of the drow males stood by the cage lazily twirling a key on a iron ring about one finger. Once again Divintra was deposited by the owner like a household pet into yet another form of containment.
"Welcome to your temporary room delivery boy." The drow spinning the keyring cheerfully welcomed him while locking the door.
"You'll be staying here until we verify your story." The owner spoke up, his head nodded faintly to the other five males. "Shouldn't take too long, then we'll see whats to be done."
"Done?" Divintra finally found his voice, and he asked his single word question while standing back away from the cages door. He really did wish he had bothered to learn lock picking better from his mother, though he doubted he'd get a chance to really try out his meager skills. After all, the drow that had locked him in the cage was seating himself on a box and making himself rather comfortable.
Divintra did not receive a verbal reply to his question. Rather he caught a glimpse of a nasty grin upon the faces on two of the males. Well, if that didn't answer his question he was rather stupid. Divintra did not require a detailed explanation of his pending fate anymore then he needed someone to show him his mothers corpse to let him know she was dead.
Divintra attempted to settle himself as comfortably as he could in the bare cage. It was hard. particularly under the steady gaze of his guard. No matter how he sat or laid he felt the uncomfortable and unwelcome weight of the other drows eyes. If he closed his own eyes he was keenly aware of the sounds the other made. The shift and creak of the crate he sat on as he shifted. The subtle scraping sound of metal as he played with one of his hidden daggers by finger ticking it back and forth in it's sheath. Even the faint breathing seemed louder in his ears. It was a unnerving wait for the boy.
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Posted: Tue Dec 30, 2008 10:54 am
His situation did not improve as time passed and his original guard was relieved by another. Divintra found himself the focus of intense and seeking gazes. Honestly! He was surprised that he had not yet been searched! He did not believe the drow guarding him were lax enough to assume that Divintra had nothing of value or use on him. Perhaps they were simply waiting to see if he would betray himself? It was incredibly hard not to reach into his pocket to stroke the glass ball he carried. Though it's constant weight was a comfort. Each guard that watched over him had different ways of unsettling him further. If he had thought it worthwhile he would have risked a whispered prayer to see the intentions of his captors. Divintra was far too cautious for that thought. Instead he attempted to discern whom was the most threatening merely by their expressions.
He did not see the owner again, which he rather regretted. Perhaps that male he would have attempted to strike up some sort of conversation with. Something to perhaps pass the time? Instead he found himself categorizing the eight males that each took a turn watching over him. Two did attempt to speak with him, almost as if they were interested in befriending the small captive. Still, Divintra did not trust these males anymore then the other silent ones. Some of the males seemed to be eagerly looking forwards to disproving Divintra's words. The way they smiled while watching him and playing with their weapons sent shivers down his back. Others had thoughtful expressions that only deepened as time passed.
Divintra tried to count the days as best he could. He was served meals at very long intervals, so he assumed that he might be getting fed twice daily. The hunger did not bother him much as he wasn't exactly doing anything to stir it up. Still...after six feedings he was growing anxious. What exactly were they attempting to verify? Why were they keeping him locked up here? If he had felt trusting enough he could have asked one of his guards, but he distrusted he ones that looked eager to hurt him, and he was disinclined to give any of the others the thought that they could somehow get him in debt by answering his questions.
Nine feedings total passed before Divintra was roused from a uneasy slumber by a remarkably gentle shaking. Looking up to see one of the males Divintra realized that his waiting was over. But,. to what end?
"Come on boy." He spoke and gestured for Divintra to follow. Rising, Divintra saw that two other males lingered about the cage. There was...unease in their eyes now with the suspicion. Divintra climbed up the tunnel and back into the original room where the rest of the males, discounting the owner of the building, sat. However, there was nine chairs set at the table instead of eight. Divintra was nudged by a hand to the ninth chair and he sat after giving the chair a glance over. For all he knew the chair was trapped after all!
"So then boy...Let's start with your name..."
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