Brim Journal Entry 1
#1 of D&D
D&D
A Journal Entry by my character in a D&D campaign I'm in. She is a 14 Charisma Tiefling (half devil half human) who is very androgynous but very very attractive. She is also never referred to by her gender in any circumstance except here of course. This is for funnies during sessions mainly. She is a War Cleric so a bit beefier than the robed clerics we are used to. Other than that, this is just after the first adventure where the company had to rescue the Mayor's boy from a cavern of goblins, ooze, nymphs, and various other things. I hope you all enjoy!
My blight be told by none but the one who stops it.
Glory beyond those who have known it before, I have yet to find my new Nemesis but I found blood, armor, flesh, and the unspeakable by the countless in the depths of the earth, far from the call of the battlefield. I've known no such rush as the one I feel along side warriors and magus of the common caliber. I judge them not by their methods but their capability, though not by their first steps but by their final utterances and swings I have found my silent camaraderie among them. The first, I hope, of many adventures to comes has been but a taste, I feel. The caves we explored seemed to never end, each room seeming disjointed from the last in its appearance. A pool, a dining hall, caves of solid sculpted rock, to hallways of nature's untouched bone and core, one half expected to see the other planes beyond each door.
I must confess my own debilitation to this plane's multi-legged creatures, reminds me of my father's own and they terrify my soul. I must have been not more than months old but I remember the realm as clear as if I had lived it my entire life. I know not of my curse, affliction, or possibly blessing by the Gods that thrive on my bloodshed but I believe it part of the cause. During the last of our adventure we found a room of such beasts and I'd never known my blood so still at the start of battle, but still it ran and death did once grace my mind with fear. Not my proudest moment but I feel an empathic bond of pride for my fellow party members who felled the mass to its roots and bloodied it beyond recognition. I thanked them in silence.
My own folly came upon the adjacent door which would be flooded with an ooze of great quantity, or is it size? It matters not. Though by its nature alone it denied me the glory of battle, a comrade by the talent of bow, felled it with a bottle of fire. From the acidic remnants we found many a collective lootings, to one of which I collected a sword as light as air that brandished itself aflame upon each connecting stroke. I only tested this upon our return to the village where I found a practice dummy near the guard house. A smile of glee kept me guilty as I fled the torched scene, snickers trailing me back to the Chamber Pot. The ooze felled and the hallway cleared by the door that barred it from us, we found yet another door, locked by more than just goblin craftsmanship, kept us away. The boy who proudly called himself "The Admiral" proved to live up to some token of the name by picking the door before the group of us could let out a breath.
The other side held both bounty and prize as we had discovered the boy we had been sent to escort back home and the subsequent creatures that would fund our next expedition; goblins. The battle was less than glorious for myself, I charged to the front and was met with quivering little mongrels. I blessed one with the act of drawing blood from itself at the very least. Two died in their forced sleep, the rest were tranquil into being beheaded, only one put up a fight but was felled long before I even pulled Nemesis to the front. Our collective efforts were wrought with gold which I divided my share amongst my comrades for fairness sake and because I needed little more than what was already in my pouch.
I found myself, despite the luxury of the manor we had received as a token of gratitude from the mayor, back at the Chamber Pot, drinking cheap ale and kneading the part of my scalp where the hair had been burned away by the ooze. It was smooth, passively I wondered if it would grow back or not but the thought faded as did most other thoughts when I felt myself being, for lack of a better phrasing, lifted up. I'd had this feeling before, though it was far from the first time, and it was recent. It was like when I had ventured into the portal back in the caves, that feeling of falling in all directions before landing. I found my footing with one knee to the desolate earth I knew I'd find. I wasn't really here and I had come to accept that over time, though the illusion was as real. Fire burned all around me in the endless pits from which it reached, nearly to the ledges of the rock and dirt that made up the cracked and dead land of this hell. I looked up to find him staring back at me; my father.
His voice echoed through my thoughts, fractions slower than sound as he spoke out of sync with his actual mouth movements, "Nethki." He said in a tone of disapproval, like he always had, "You fail to wrought the world of man of life." He growled, his wings twitching as he adjusted his position. He stood some few feet above me, even when I too stood. I glared and resisted trying to actually move beyond that, for I was, to some degree, in the plane of man and actions tended to end up negative for me if I sought to fight him.
I watch as he starts to pace, "You leave me an orphan among men and expect to order me like your mindless imp servants. You wrought this failure yourself, father." I replied softly. The bellow of anger distorted the view, sending currents of energy through the illusion, his wings splaying out and his claws at the ready as I am sure he wished to rip me asunder for my back talk. He quickly calmed himself, only to turn and swipe at a pillar of stone, sending rubble to the depths of fire below. He growled softly, his mane of hair ran down his back to his long, dragon like tail, his clawed feet like razors to the floor beneath him. His flesh was a dark, blood red, color and scales adorned him in an oddly symmetrical fashion, down his spine and to his tail tip, as well as his shins, forearms, and shoulders. He had a crest upon his chest of the same scale material that covered to his sides and down to his sternum. His face was a monster's, a mix of humanoid, canine, and other creatures with carapace like horns that came from his mane of hair on his forehead. His eyes, like mine, were red, except his beholden black around them. He wore but a fixture of armor for his hips and groin, while the rest was protected by scales or his skill as a warrior, which I could not deny.
He turned back to me and growled under his breath, leering, "I've missions to attend to and not the patience for your impudence. You spend time out-witting goblins but not the half of blood that bears your skin. You disgrace me." He growled out in almost an emotional pain that was not becoming of a demon.
I looked back into his eyes, my own hard but not withholding of what I felt by any stretch of the imagination, "Disgrace I might be to you, but I bring home heads, blood, sweat, and pride every day for my own sake, father. I was born with will beyond your own and your masters. I am but the grace you will never achieve." I replied softly, "You will not understand what I am or why I am, you will only understand this anger that stems from my disobedience of your orders directly. Regardless we are bound by blood. As such, I do intend to kill in your name, father..." I paused a moment in reflection of the sword I had recently acquired, smiling softly, "I shall even kill in the way of hell itself." I replied, "But I shall kill what stands before me as a threat and as a challenge. Nothing more, nor less. Now begone from me, I hate these discussions." He roared at me and whipped around, the images being whipped away like someone had dropped me from the sky and I land back onto my stool.
I gasp and feel my stomach lurch, the first few times this happened, I found my food and drink on the floor, I since have learned to withhold it. My body burned some but not anymore than usual. I looked about, finding a few eyes on me, I never knew if I actually spoke in the real world or not, or to what degree I moved, but it must happen. I finished my disgusting ale and fled the tavern back to the manor of the mayor, the stables would make good for space, space to tend to my weapons til our adventures took us to battle once more.