Thrymma

A blog dedicated to Thrymma's people.

[inkskinned]

i think i love you, which is odd, because i promised myself i couldn't love anything that breathes - on account of a sense for the dramatic and also one time i got thrown against the ground so hard that the splatter was chalk dust. i said i'd never let that happen standing up. it happened like a sunrise anyway, between the fingers over my eyes. you flew as a bird and made a nest in my heart. i want it to pass over me like a locust. my hands keep shaking. anything close can cut through bone. like looking down a deep hole, i hear the stones skitter over and plunge. i wanna be an adult about this and instead i feel like crying. this will only make things worse. i wasn't supposed to do this again. what a fool, this girl.

it's like she wants to get hurt.

[thrymma]

Gyrda - First of Autumn - 1241

   The old hag had appeared out of no where. I had been pulling my cart through a patch of especially stubborn sponge moss and was abruptly sunk ten feet below surface level in a perfectly circular pit. The wild strangeness of such a thing happening had cause me to freeze and panic all at once. The hag had peered over the edge of her handmade sinkhole and had cackled - actually laughed! I cursed her as the hole had begun to fill with putrid marsh waters. My boots and cloak will smell for days.

   The swamp hag had begun to walk away, intent on leaving me there, but had turned back only when I spoke to her in the Tindory troll language. She eyed me curiously, deciding to slowly raise the circle of earth in which she had trapped me back to its rightful position. She asked me why I had ventured into her marshes, speaking to me in the common tongue. As if to let me know she was only bullying me by pretending to not be able to understand me.

   I am settled outside of her hut now, which is so ramshackle I fear falling asleep near it. Simply turning over might bring the so called dwelling crashing down onto me. But I am also grateful, because if I were to say that I wasn't hopelessly lost I would be lying. Once deep into the swamp, it is easy to lose your sense of direction. There was no sight of the sky and my maps had been rendered useless.

   The hag tells me her name is Mizula, though she'd had to tell me three times before I'd understood through her toothless common speech, laden heavily with the Tindory accent. Whether or not it is her true name, I can't say. But I have followed her through the swamp anyway, with much caution. My wariness of her being outweighed by my need to sleep, but also by my curiosity. Who is this troll woman with such great earthen powers doing in the middle of a swamp land alone? This elder troll had snuck up on me and commanded the very soil beneath my feet to drop. The happening of it all had been so quick and precise. It was earthen magic like I had never seen before, and I must know how!

[thrymma]

Osyra - First of Autumn - 1241

   Dartura is to be named our Revered Lady in three days time. After finding her so deep in her misery, I had lost all hope of her taking the coveted seat. The very next morning she had surprised me. She had risen and dressed in her finest gowns before I had even awakened. She had ordered me to call for her transport right away, as we were to set out on a campaign like no other. I asked only once about the child and she had simply stated it was none of my concern, and it was the business of no one outside of her chambers. There had been no bitterness in her voice, but her gaze had seemed to fall far away from where we stood. 

    We silently agreed to put it aside for the time being and had put ourselves to work to put together this campaign. Many oxen were packed with home goods, clothing, books, foods, and much of Dartura's own wealth to share with her peoples in need. She spoke with every soul that would want for her attention. She had tasked two chroniclers from the Living Library to join in our travels, much to their annoyance, to record all the complaints given by the peoples. Both had their own complaints about the waste of paper and ink for such irrelevant whining, believing history to be the only matter of importance. But do they not see? History was being made before their very eyes. 

   Dartura captured the heart of every elf she encountered. Her voice rang out over every crossroads, village, and market center. She spoke of a new era and openly condemned the previous administration for their neglect. She had personally handed out dozens and dozens of care packages and coin purses, She had shared her feasts at every tavern as we traveled across the expanse of the Kaelymno borders. My admiration for her grew with every passing day. Never before had any person of import set themselves among the common and the laborers and offered their undivided attention and also backed it up with support. She was magnificent, holding the audience of every packed inn and market center, where she sat promising a better future.

   All the while she had cleverly hidden the swelling of her belly. Dully colored, flowing gowns and long shawls and cloaks did the trick. She never once mentioned it to me or her chambermaids. I can only hope beyond hope that no one had noticed. I have been ill at ease, despite the wonderment of this successful campaigning. I wish she would share with me even an inkling of her plans to deal with the coming of a bastard child just as she is to be coronated and sat in the seat of the most renown. I sit and plan her celebrations and worry it will all be for nothing.

[thrymma]

Gyrda - Nearing Autumn - 1241

    Finally, a chance to write by lantern light. My fears of the innkeeper were unfounded. I was welcomed and fed a hot meal within minutes of parking my cart outside of the Winding Roads Inn. The innkeeper is named Malphond, an elder Elf, and he has been very gracious. We talked of the weather, books, and local superstitions. He never once asked me about my travels or where I had come from. Although he did make a point to note how odd it was to meet an educated Orc. When I did not offer an explanation, he didn't push it. Instead he offered me a freshly scented blanket and a new bottle of ink. I was blown away.     

There was an odd happening, though, when I went to pull my merchant cart behind the inn. I could feel the presence of something or someone. It was well past dusk though, so I don't know if I can trust my eyes. There was no noise besides something of a splashing. I stood stock still for several minutes before deciding it was only my imagination. Or perhaps some animals at Lake Davore settling in for the night. Maybe I am more tired from the road than I realize. It is very unlike me to be spooked.

[thrymma]

Gyrda - Nearing Autumn - 1241

    Bandits, helping passersby, and the sweeping rains that promise the coming of autumn have slowed my travels. I figure I'll arrive at the swamp a week later than I had originally planned. I can only hope to find shelter before the cold really sets in. As frustrating as the delay has been, I feel adding another is necessary. My shoulders and legs ache. I feel my back can't take one more night of sleeping on the hard ground. And besides, a hot meal would be so wonderful. These dried meats and fruits begin to lose all appeal after a few weeks on the road. A night at the Winding Roads Inn would be a perfect place to rest and refresh.

   I only worry about the ownership being kind to me. Elves are not known for their warmth towards Orcs. But coin is still coin, and hopefully they will allow me to board for the night without any trouble. It is the last boarding available between here and the Olam'Azi swamp, so I will be trying my luck at the end of today's long walk.

   I know I am getting near. I can smell the cedar trees that line Lake Davore from where I breakfast now. It is a shame I do not have more time for an extended stay at the inn. It is much magical and hearty foraging I will be missing out on. Autumn brings so much life in its effort to begin the decaying of winter. I'd very much have liked to have a basket of mushrooms to take with me into my new homeplace.

[thrymma]

Gyrda - Midsummer - 1241

On the Olam'Azi - Tindory road...

   As it turns out, the wildlife was to be the least of my worries. I was accosted by bandits twice before even reaching the road leading to Ol'Azi swamp. The first attack was easily handled because it had been raining and mud is easily manipulated. I actually laughed at the shock on the faces of these trolls that had never seen an orc use the earthen magics. My eyes glowed as yellow as their skin had turned, the cowards. The second group of bandits were a little more tricky. One of them made off with my good skillet and my spare boots. The other two I left tangled in some bramblebush. How they had cursed, and even more loudly as I rummaged through their packs and took their rope and bee balm. I considered it fair.. a theft for a theft.

     I have passed others on the Olam-Tindory road, but they had no ill intentions. A small elven girl traded me some fine paper in exchange for healing her fox companion that had been wounded while hunting. She seemed to be uncomfortable by my very presence, so I didn't speak. I hadn't realized how tired the road had made me and had to pull from the earth around me to mend the wounds. I killed every plant in a two foot radius around me. Thankfully, nothing else was harmed. I fell asleep sitting against my cart shortly after the elven girl disappeared below the hills. I suppose it was worth the set back.

[thrymma]

Osyra - Midsummer - 1241

I worry for Dartura. Her temperament as of late has been very erratic. She speaks as if her path to winning the seat of Revered Lady is as secure as it ever was, but I am not so confident. The passing of Lae'mon has the Council on edge. Her untimely death leaves everyone feeling frantic and a bit desperate. The peoples of Kaelymno have been uneasy enough without proper leadership in place. If the seat stays empty too long there may be panic. Already I hear whispers at market and in the palace halls. Elves from under each different banner are weary and anxious. Some are calling for a democratic vote, stating their annoyance with Council over the years. They wish to put someone in administration that would understand them and listen to their complaints.     

Dartura's isolation has done nothing to abate their fears. The people only feel more ignored and misunderstood.  After our travels to meet with the Tindory trade masters she is even more withdrawn. I will go to her and try to plant the idea that she should try personal campaigning. She cannot stay hidden in her chambers, her nose in a book, and expect the people to continue to support her. The Council may hold all power to appoint, but the people could have the final say. There has been revolt before, law and order completely upended, when all elven kin had to band together for survival, but neither banner wanted to swear fealty to the other. I wish for there never again to be need for elven kin to harm one another for the chance to rule.

[thrymma]

Gyrda - Midsummer 1241

  I'm to head for the Ol'Azi in the morning. I will miss the company around Kentro, but it is for the best. I have run completely out of tinctures, balms, and infused bandages. The number of injured people at market was surprising. My coin purse is heftier, though I worry about the amount of bandits attacking those on the roads so often. I did spend a few platinum pieces at the wheelwright and iron goods traders. Yuka sold me a pair of new shears and offered free gossip. She tells me things grow more tense back home. Orcs are gathering in secret and planning something behind the military's back. Some believe my brother to be involved. I could have done without the news, I have enough on my mind.

       Zibbet tells me the southern most part of the swamp is a more likely area to provide some peace and quiet. He claims there are haunts about, but I fear no spirit. I'll gladly make their acquaintance if I can quickly settle with a clean spring nearby. I am more concerned about making it around the crocks, snakes, and poisonous mushrooms on my way inside.

[thrymma]

Gyrda - Midsummer, 1241

Twenty seven days have passed since I was forced from my home. Thirty days since she died.. since I was not able to save her. I've spent precious platinum on this book and quill so that I might have a way to arrange my thoughts. Time will tell whether or not it was worth it.

My time at Kentro market has been fruitful. Zibbet has been very kind to allow me to board at his tavern at a discount, but I feel I should pack up and find a place to settle myself. My supply of herbs will run out soon enough. I will be unable to continue sales without a garden and I miss being able to bathe properly. The refugee town of Tindory is tempting, but I feel a need for solitude and silence. The Olam'Azi swamp seems to be my best bet.