Day 298
What a morning! Skills practiced today:
Now everyone's tired from the day's excitement – I already hear some snoring nearby. (Note: volume of snoring is apparently not necessarily proportional to body size. Gnome lungs are impressive!) I just wanted to jot this down and then…
“Here comes a good bit, Mordain!” I lisped, closing the door and plunking the false tusks into a flask of windroot disinfectant.
“Ina, don't you have more important observations to deal with? I've cataloged at least six level 4 incidents since last night.”
“Aye, I know, but Mambir dreams always make for the most interesting insights.” Always business, Mordain. Fine qualities for a vizier, though grating when one just wants an hour's reprieve.
“Gather your insights and meet me in draught room when you're ready then. Any particular reason you're observing this one?” he said over his shoulder, on the way to the inner sanctums.
“Not sure, she shows potential, but has a long road to walk. I think these companions may do her some good yet – if they can survive their half-baked scheme. Mostly curiosity though - I AM still allowed that, remember?” I retorted, waving the dwarf out of the room.
What DO I want to observe here? Do I want this one to be have the Potential? Am I prepared for that? Or am I hoping for failure? I'd never tell Mordain those thoughts, but while it's been a while, I'm not sure if I'm quite ready yet.
Ah, well… on to those dreams.
Night 298
Memona help me, but those were some compelling dreams! I'm glad the others couldn't see into them, and that Madame Shantisse isn't telling whatever she managed to see.
It started out innocently enough – chasing a small child through the woods. And then the empty cottage… oh, that sweet, sweet, cottage. So many ingredients within! Things Glasha never let me work with, things she never even had access to herself! And that book… so enlightening! I mean, it was my obligation to procure the tome, as no one else was making proper use of it.
But then… mood change. Fascinating how quickly dreams can flip which emotions they prey on! Mixing was going so well, until it wasn't. Memona went from smiling to turning her back at the drop of a dinarc! And the doubt that crept in – thank the flasks that it was all just a dream, right?! I mean, yes, I do wonder sometimes why the others are even with me, or if I made a mistake joining the horde in the first place, or why everyone seemed perfectly fine leaving me to play with the three gators by myself… but no! Just a silly dream meant to drive us off, nothing to it. The others don't just like me for my body, and I do know what I'm doing. Mostly. Usually.
So close… yet so much to learn.
It is intriguing to see the different ways inquisitiveness – or the lack thereof – manifests in the others. Why they didn't want to immediately traipse into the woods to see if our dreams (of which I shared a heavily edited version) had any truth to them, I don't understand. Especially since it turns out they did! And that as Memona teaches, fate can be changed – I don't have to burn the real cottage down. Or any of the others in the village that suddenly sprang up around us! I knew those Mambir would prove to be fascinating people if given a chance, regardless of what the beet farmer thought.
Looks like we'll take a couple of days here to recuperate and stock up – the villagers seem happy to trade hardtack (so crunchy!) for horsemeat, among other things. Oh! And Maebh even found a new pet, though I hope she trains it well before it gets big enough to eat her. Anyhow, think I'll ask around about local ingredients and formulas, I'm sure the Shantisse and her friends have some enthralling ideas!
Ah, the zeal of youth. I remember when I thought the trials of Xanthia would be so easy, and then I went and lost my
“Are you coming?!”
“Sorry Mordain, got caught up in reminiscing. Remember Xanthia?” I can't imagine he could forget it, considering he's the one that picked up the pieces afterwards.
“Ach, yes… those were quite the times, weren't they? You've healed up quite nice since though,” he chuckled, miming hobbling in circles. The book that bounced off his head put an end to that charade quick enough.
“Alright, enough of amateur theater hour,” I said, innocently slipping my hand away from the stack of tomes nearby. “Didn't you say something about level 4 incidents? Looks like the best this one can do at the moment is level 3, so best move on for now.”
For now…