'Dere Diry,

I dun not know y I m riting tis. I ges evr sins sis taut me ow to rite, I ave fet dat if anydin wer two hapn to me, den de odders shuld no de truth. Sory diry four my riting, I fet i portant dat as son as I culd make somding I wuld rite it.'


'Dear Diry,

I said dat I wuld rite into this as soon as I culd, doe it is tugh to say it all at once. I gess I shall start at the beginin... doe dis is mostly from anudder, cusin Ani, who tol me the truth.'


'Dear Diary,

Ani tod me dat it all started in cornwull. Frum the summonnnin towa he brught the power into hisself, and our grandpa was den los as Basya was envelped by de demon. He fet dat he deserved jus as muh honar and praze as did fadder, and wen faddah was grnted land and he wasnt, dis cauesed him to do dis.'


'Dear Diary,

Sorry I havent wrote in a cuple days, thouh my writing I dink is improvin. Im sory, I dont hae much tie to write, got in truble.'


'Dear Diary,

Ware was I... oh yes. The demon took time to work on grandpa, he was patint, wayting for the right moment. I du no not no how many years passed, if any atall, but I do know father had me. Was a grate day for father and mother, I was their only child, Uliyana Ulfwych. It was den dat grandpa struck...'


'Dear Diary,

Got in trouble again... I will right more lateer...'


'Dear Diary,

Well, I am grounded to my rum, so have time to right. Grandpa, frum wat I found out, saw me as a weigh that he culd gain power. He organzized sum mercanaries from Llyn and captured me away from mum and dad. The brigarnds maed it look ike I had been kiled, and father neer knew that I had been captured. To dis day, he dinks I am dead. I was yung, and I didnt know any better. Grandpa tol me father died defenin de lands from the gobins. He sad mother died givin birth to me, thas why I was named Apolexia, dough I dont understan it atall. E had me smith, I luved to smith. I had freedom to do watever I wanted to do, since the mercs followed grandpa and grandpa et me do wutever. Den the day came when I came to the city... grandpa seemed all too willing.. he knu dat with me here, he could work his plans. He wasn't arund much anyhow, I know. I knew growing up that dere was something de matter with him, dough I lied to myself about it so I wouldn't see de truth... he had been poisonin my mind for years, letting me get my way, and then when he worked his dark magics I blamed my cusin for it all, Ani, and I tried to...'


'Dear Diary,

Sorry, sumeone came up and had to hide you. Anyhoo... I tried to murder Ani... dough she was not at fault. The shame I live with, knowing that I worked with a demon, that I actually tried to murder my own blud, a noble even. I was redy for Basaia, he was redy for me. I had filled my min with hate and evil... and the demon inside him yearned to tak me... but sumdin stopped him. I dun no what... but he vanished. Basaia vanished... and I've not seen him since... but I believe he is still there somewhere, him and his dark legions...'


'Dear Diary,

When sis and I were at a weddin, I touched an altar of the church, and it burned me... sis told me dat I was tainted wid evil... I had told her of my past before I became her sis... yet the evil still lurked in me... she casted out... but my evil is still out there... waiting...'


'Dear Diary,

I fashioned the necklace sis made me into a key to your lock... she would know how to open it if something ever happened.'


'Dear Diary,

I feel that I dont wish to write in you anymore. I will live day by day... but you shall be my words if anything happened.'


<the entries end here>

/thwap

 

-----signature-----

((numps are ok, but I'm not sure about Thwapping. That was my first thwap, and I can't say it was as good as a nump))


Arcalan gasped and looked up at Crispian. She waited for him to finish the page and then stepped back from him.

"ou were looking for a dark influence .. milord" she stumbled over the need to place genuine respect on that term "and it seems you've found it, though not where you expect. I wonder if Lord Ulfwych ever found out..." she let the sentance hang in mid air.

There were cries in the street below and some commotion taking place. Arcalan didn't bother to look, knowing it was a report of the fight at the League hall. She wondered who had killed Hecathia, and where Lexi was now? Presumably Lexi was free if Hecathia had been killed, they'd not be stupid enough to kill Hecathia before Lexi was safe.. would they? Arcalan's eyes widened in shock, they would indeed.. now Lexi was a major bargaining chip she'd better not be harmed!

Arcalan raced for the stairs yelling "Adieu Lord Crispian, I have much to do!"

Hecathia's body lay in a crumpled mass before the door of the League hall. Her blood seeped from her in a pool that crept ever so slowly closer to Azi's plated-clad toes. Azi stared, unable to take her eyes away from the body, and her own great scimitar still jutting upward from the woman's chest. Though countless seasons of battle lay under her belt, this was the most horrifying death Azi had ever seen.


Blood spilled in the League hall. Blood of a fellow League member. Blood spilled by her own hand, she, a knight of the League. The rage was gone now, but it had been terrifying. It would be scandal, no matter the reason. It would tarnish the reputation of the League, and her own reputation..


Tobyas stood closeby, trying in vain to call the woman back, but seemed miles away to Azi. She raised shakey palms before her face and stared at them in disbelief. She had tried to raise Hecathia, and the Almighty would not allow it. Tobyas had heard her confession and absolved it, but she knew her crime was unexcusable. Only the Lord Himself had the right to decide life and death, and Azaeli had taken that decision into her own hands, defying even Him.


Tashtego's hand was gently on Azi's arm, though it seemed he was in the far end of a tunnel when he spoke.


"Me Fair Lady Azaeli? Come sit an calm yerself. The witch is gone now.." In a daze, with her eyes locked on the bloody corpse, Azi felt herself lifted in his arms and lowered into a chair.

Crispian stood for a moment stunned at what was revealed. He himself had been touched by a demonic influence, what the Exorcists called a perfect possession of an individual, unwittingly done by D'Vena to further her own goals at first, but ultimately becoming the sad victim of a demon named Mirth, who led to her undoing. And now to learn this of Apolexia, young enough to be his sister, close enough for the same to be true.


No wonder she acted as she did sometimes, with her outlashing at people and things. His shock fell quickly away as he heard names from below, Hecathia, Azi, the League. He bolted down the stairs to emerge only steps behind Arcalan. A quick gesture called back the two swift shadows who would have given her pursuit. He now felt he could ask, and get mostly truthful answer, about what she was doing.


Not that he would entirely be non-vigilant. He was not that foolish.

 

-----signature-----

Unable to call back the fallen woman, Tobyas knelt and blessed her body with oils, absolution, and prays for divine salvation. Even with the mighty power of resurrection at his command, not all could be saved. His titian head stayed bowed for a time as he murmured the low and quiet prayers for the dead. Then he rose, to minister to the Living.


He crossed to Azi, his chain mail hissing as it rubbed against itself. His eyes, a vivid, innocent blue, met hers. He read in them the loathing and anger, fear and uncertainty. "Wish you to speak about this now, Azi, or would you prefer to be miserable first?" he said quietly, his tone conveying what he knew of her.


He held her eyes until she looked away to the fire, then settled down next to her. Other members of the League withdrew, creating a space about them in respect. He waited for her to speak.

Toorc opened his eyes again and saw the green grass bouncing up and down in his field of vision. He felt a bit sick and the light was so bright his eyes stung and watered if he did more than squint. He felt himself lowered to the ground and heard voices yelling out orders around him. He could also hear a cry in the distance, a bloodcurdling battlecry designed to rally the primative forces of Midgard. Troll voices boomed out a thunderous "RrrrAAAAAAAAAAA!"

The Celtic company formed a defensive ring and sent their ranger off to find a vantage point. The forces of Midgard were near at hand and were trying to gauge their numbers before charging in. The massive Firblog twirled his spear in the sunlight and the swift ranger loosed an arrow at the enemy forces. Toorc watched on still very weak, seeing the Healer of midgard advance with his troll bodyguards trying to shield him. The Healer raised his hands to entreat a pagan deity to stun his foes, when suddenly a tiny figure appeared from the long grass and drove a dagger into the Norseman's side. The trolls quickly smote the brave little Lurikeen with hammers, and he fell with a horiffic thud. The Healer however was doubled up from the poison on that fatal blade, and learnt how potent certain Hibernian berries can be when properly mixed and prepared. His companions adopted a more straightforward strategy and closed in, one dwarf ripping out of his normal skin into some vile furred form, and howling like a beast.

As the two sides clashed in the rolling expanse of Emain Machia Toorc got to his feet. He summoned the energies he knew best and the land did his bidding, the power of earth forming a skin to deflect the enemies weapons. His power fell upon the hibernians and coated them likewise, bouncing blow after blow off of their skin and giving them the edge. The towering Firblog stepped in to protect Toorc, and denied the Mids any chance to strike down their unusual ally. As arrows rained in from the sniping elven ranger and brought the wounded and fleeing to their knees it became apparent the Norse warriors were losing. The last of them to fall was the shapechanged berserker, refusing steadfastly to take even one step back, and even pulling himself along the shaft of the massive spear when he was impaled, still trying to claw the Firblog.


When all was doen Toorc collapsed again, unable to withstand the strain any longer. He'd have to rest before that, for he was badly drained from his ordeal. The Celts gathered him up again and once they'd had a short chance to bandage their wounds the company made off once more, heading deep into the Hibernian territory.

The flames flicked and cracked, but even with her eyes averted she could see the body, the result of her rage. Tobyas leaned close. His voice held a soothing tone, but Azi could not grasp the meaning of his words. They slipped through her like the blade that had slipped through Hecathia's chest. She stared into the fire, seeing herself driving her mace down onto the hilt of her sword. Savage! She saw the sword drive into Hecathia's body and then through the wood of the floor, pinning her. Tobyas voice stopped, he was finished, waiting for an answer. What had he asked her? She swallowed the lump in her throat, tears stung her eyes as she watched the flames.


"es," was all she could manage to whisper.

A tight, pained expression came over Tobyas' face. This was such a sad moment, when a foe takes a guise to which one is unaccustomed. "She came as a wolf in sheep's clothing, Azi. You acted as the Just Warrior, surely you see that?"


He reached for her hands, ice cold as she clenched and unclenched them.

He was inspecting her hands now. Why did he feel the need? He had been standing there all along, he saw the whole event. She was guilty, she knew. He knew. She let her hands lax, allowed him to look them over. His words came and went in her recognition. Wolf, he called her..Just... Yes. She understood what he was saying. She would see justice for this murder.


"es, Tobyas," she answered softly.