Date - I still have no idea, six days after last entry
I have my answers. While I was unconscious the Pact Fleet sailed for Mordremoth's resting place. No one's clear on what exactly happened there, but they're sure of three things; Mordremoth's awake now, the attack force was utterly destroyed... and the Sylvari turned on the Pact. Many, if not all, of my brothers and sisters who sailed with the Fleet turned traitor the moment Mordremoth began his assault on the ships. I don't understand why or how, but all Sylvari are viewed as... sleeper agents, I suppose. So far I'm the first Sylvari patient at this field hospital who hasn't felt compelled to slaughter and mayhem. They don't know if it's because I was in a coma when it all went down, or if I have some innate immunity. A few others have proven resistant to Mordremoth's call, but everyone's afraid that it's only a matter of time.
As far as I can tell, the Dream is still the only whisper in my mind. I'm trying to persuade them to give me back my weapons so I can start training again. They don't want to trust me with armaments. I keep telling them that they'll need every soldier they have if the other Sylvari are truly lost... but if I wanted to murder them all and run screaming into the jungle, I guess that's what I'd be saying anyway. Time will tell.
He was with the Fleet when it fell. I don't know if he's alive or dead, or for which side he fights if he yet lives. If I have to go in there with nothing but a stick I find on the way, I'm going after him.
There's supposedly a party of heroes headed by the Commander of the Pact, preparing to set out in search of Mordremoth. Maybe I'll see if I can join them. They'll be traveling in the same general direction.
~ Nieth Bladedancer
Friday, February 20, 2015
Thursday, February 19, 2015
Awakening Again
Date - I have no idea
The healers tell me that writing is a good way to deal with the pain, both of body and of mind. They're stretched too thin to do more than preserve life and let the rest mend itself. Which is why I can no longer tell how close my pen is to this parchment until I spatter the ink. I may have to change my surname - how well can one use a sword with only one eye?
I suppose I'm luckier than most, at that. The rest of me is whole, and I'll heal in time. We Sylvari are a tenacious sort, as stubborn as ivy and harder to kill. I suppose I can always switch to daggers - at arm's reach it's hard to miss. It'll be a whole new fighting style to master, but I've always loved a challenge.
The healers are acting odd around me. They whisper, and look sidelong at me when they think I don't notice. They're nervous, and it's aught to do with my scars. It's like they're waiting for a bomb to go off, except I'm the bomb. I wish someone would talk to me. I tried to reach Mother, but she's still weak from that THING that attacked the Grove. And I can't see the whole hospital, but there aren't any other Sylvari in my tent. Actually, I've seen neither branch nor leaf of my kin since I awoke three days ago. And having put that in writing, I find it pressing odd. Half the defenders at Blue Oasis were Sylvari - surely I wasn't the only survivor? I know I wasn't the worst of the wounded.
Now I'm worried. I need some answers. I guess it's time I find out if I can get up from this cot.
~ Nieth Bladedancer
The healers tell me that writing is a good way to deal with the pain, both of body and of mind. They're stretched too thin to do more than preserve life and let the rest mend itself. Which is why I can no longer tell how close my pen is to this parchment until I spatter the ink. I may have to change my surname - how well can one use a sword with only one eye?
I suppose I'm luckier than most, at that. The rest of me is whole, and I'll heal in time. We Sylvari are a tenacious sort, as stubborn as ivy and harder to kill. I suppose I can always switch to daggers - at arm's reach it's hard to miss. It'll be a whole new fighting style to master, but I've always loved a challenge.
The healers are acting odd around me. They whisper, and look sidelong at me when they think I don't notice. They're nervous, and it's aught to do with my scars. It's like they're waiting for a bomb to go off, except I'm the bomb. I wish someone would talk to me. I tried to reach Mother, but she's still weak from that THING that attacked the Grove. And I can't see the whole hospital, but there aren't any other Sylvari in my tent. Actually, I've seen neither branch nor leaf of my kin since I awoke three days ago. And having put that in writing, I find it pressing odd. Half the defenders at Blue Oasis were Sylvari - surely I wasn't the only survivor? I know I wasn't the worst of the wounded.
Now I'm worried. I need some answers. I guess it's time I find out if I can get up from this cot.
~ Nieth Bladedancer
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