Reflective thoughts - A Journal of a Wayward Elf

[Erevain]

“Friendship, a word with many meanings between many different peoples. I must confess to believing it meant something decidedly different in my younger days, on the Blessed Isle I had those I would call friends, those I spoke with, drank with or trained with in my time as an apprentice of the Lynx lodge, most often Nobles of a similar rank to myself, with little desire to look below me. But were they truely friends? At the time I considered them to be. Now I wonder at the concept. There are some that believe a friend is merely someone known to them beyond a single time. But is that not perhaps little more than an acquaintance, perhaps to become a friend if the relationship is preserved and given a chance to grow?

But then, at what point does one decide a person becomes a friend? When an important secret is shared? Or perhaps when they save your life from a horde of Orcs? Or Werewolves? Since arriving here in the Silver Marches, on the frontier of what the humans consider to be civilised I’ve learned much about myself and my failings. I’ve learned that building walls and not allowing people the chance to become friends is a poor decision. Similarly I’ve learned that it is not simply those of the people deserving of the title of friend. There have been those I have met and felt a kinship to, The Knight in Silver Alyra for one, or perhaps Trapper wind and her wild ways? While I did not know it at the time, I look back and consider the advise each of them gave me in our short travels together, at their willingness to talk of things, to share simple honest conversation. Something that for some of the people is simply beyond them…

It took the Feywarden Daertho, whom I had simply respected leaving for the south to make me realise he was more than just a travelling companion, but instead my first true friend in the Marches. Now he has returned and I am glad of his company and sage advice as well as his firm belief in the Seldarine, in Corellon's guidance. With Sywyn it was something different, we travelled together increasingly and in doing so I realised that for all our differences, we shared a similar outlook on life and our place in these lands, even sharing Ideals. With him it was a more dramatic experience that caused me to realise that he was a true friend, being brought low by the foul minions of Malar, only to have him, an archer run between the huge beasts simply to ensure my life was preserved. For that I am eternally grateful and hope that I can ensure his safety in the coming years.

But then, perhaps there was at least one from my past that was a friend, though as with Daertho I did not realise it until I had lost him, Lythandir, fellow apprentice and always so petulant, he died in my arms, such a way to learn someone was a friend? It saddens me that I was too blind to realise sooner, perhaps I would have tried all the harder to defend him when he told me to run? Perhaps I’ll never know…

Friendship, a strange word indeed, one with many meanings, but I believe that my time among the ‘barbaric’ folk of the Silver Marches has taught me much, that friendship is something important, to be preserved above all else. Perhaps there is indeed more to these people and these lands than the elders of my kin would have me believe? For now I shall be thankful to the Seldarine for giving me the opportunity to meet these people that have become true friends, beyond those that I considered friends in my past, exept perhaps one?”

[Erevain]

Essentially the idea to these entries is relatively simple, they are the reflections of Elenaril, on a theme or topic that becomes apparent through play... Here is the second entry, comments/pointers on writing style is appreciated (It's not something I usually do)

“Home, for some it is a place, others it is a feeling. I sit here now, and I wonder what it truly is to me?

Today I found myself in a place most unexpected, surrounded by reminders of a place I spent lifetimes by human standards in. It was beautiful to behold, though at the same time a little sad; to see how the people have declined in Faerun, regardless of the reasons. But most important of all, It left me and clearly those I travelled with, all of whom I care for, clearly thinking of places we had once spent many years.

I could see it clearly in the Feywarden’s eyes, though I am sure it was a different place to me that he remembered, I could see the slight sadness in his eyes. We both lived on Evermeet though he was not from there originally. The memories this place obviously brought up were perhaps ones he did not truly wish to remember. Perhaps home for him is not entirely a happy thing? As a Wood elf his time with house Elbrar, and in the temple in Leuthilspar can not have been easy. Home is mixed happy and hard memories for him then.

Sywyn, the often stoic ranger I consider to be closest of my companions on the mainland, appeared to be in complete awe of the place we had come to, clearly it brought up memories of a place he had once lived, but more importantly to him, it gave him hope of a place that he might live once more, where he could be around that which he had missed and felt he perhaps has grown away from. So for him Home is Hope? and Salvation?

Laniara, the skilled scholar and Arcanist, who has been through so much of late, she was harder to read, what did this place mean to her I wonder? She came from the High Forest, where once the people lived in huge kingdoms, though not in her own lifetime. Perhaps the place simply meant a chance to be away from the ‘N’Tel’? A place to be amongst her own kind, though equally such a thing recently caused her little but pain. For her, home likely means a new beginning, and something to believe in with her life as it has gone.

So what of me then? Not so very long ago, I said to Lady Sylvaine a Knight of Silverymoon, though it’s unlikely many would realise that was what she was without a formal introduction, she doesn’t dress like I’d come to expect human knights to dress, all in their heavy plait mail, shining from a mile away. I told her that I’d come to regard the Marches as home, but I didn’t mean it, not in my heart, to me, home is where the people are. Perhaps it is due to the training I received in the Lynx Lodge, the desire to be around and to protect the people…

So what is Home? Home to me is a concept, a state of mind, Home is where my heart and soul is. Let us pray that I can protect it…”

[Swift]

Love 'em. The diary style is nice