Legends of Belariath

Khristoph Maelese

The Journal of Khristoph Maelese: Days 1-5

Day 1

With high hopes for the future, I set foot outside the walls which had held me for two long years. I had survived, and proven myself worthy to don the cross and shoulder the mantle of being a warrior of the Clergy. Armed, defended, and a small fortune in a leather pouch in my satchel, things were definitely on the plus side. I would bring honor to the cloth, defending its virtues and upholding the Light always.

Trouble was, I knew there was no way of returning to my family. They had told me that there was little enough they could do to support Saestrel, my elder brother, and themselves. Time was limited, and I knew I would have to have employment, and shelter soon.

In these same two years, I hadn't had so much as a sideways glance at ale. I believed it was high-time to drain a pint and forget my impending predicament for a spell. After a good distance, I happened upon an establishment, not too far from the road. The sign overhead read 'The Lonely Inn'. I knew the place had to be alive, for at that moment, a female centaur ascended the stairs. How was I to fathom that this very same girl would come to be the center of my existence, my thoughts, my dreams... dare I say, my desires?

Forgive me, I'm getting ahead of myself.

I stepped through the doors... and... I had only heard stories of places such as this in the hallowed halls of the Clergy. Naked, unashamed, men and women alike colliding in orgies of flesh and lust. Many were in bondage, slaves for their masters, by force or by manipulation. Turning a blind eye to what I saw, I approached the current man working the bar. Parched, I asked for a mug of ale. I gave my name. He looked as if he could care less, and slid a mug my way.

I drained a quarter of the pint, and slid it to the side, going for my tome. If anything has helped me keep sanity these days, it is placing my every word, thought, and deed in between these leather-bound pieces of parchment. My quill scratched soundly, releasing the ink trapped in the stem. I gazed across the premises, meeting with my eyes others that I would later meet with a handshake and a proper introduction.

That's when she first approached me.

I am not one of poetry and prose. I never claimed to be, so I will not attempt to here, either. I will only do my best to describe she who captivated my very being at first glance. Midnight black hair, braided in places, enchanting dark eyes, a sturdily-built lower frame of a pony, an interesting shade of brown in itself, and a smile that could warm the coldest night...

Caoimhe.

It turns out, she is part of the Healer's Guild. What luck! I have received training channeling my will, beseeching the gods to use me as a vessel to repair and mend flesh. I, of course, inform her of my ability to read, right, and keep accurate records. She then replies of a need for someone of my skills in the Guild. Again, fortune winks, sending sweet stardust onto this unworthy vessel.

I reflect a moment, now bringing fresh to memory, on Caoimhe's unending generosity. Soon after, she asks me if I have a place to stay. I tell her no; I am in need of quarters as well. She begins to aid me in recital of the inn having good food and a bed for my tired form... and then tells me that she has a home where I could stay as well.

A logical man would have accepted the Inn. Despite the possible noise level, it was somewhat safe. To go with a total stranger was asking for trouble of the highest caliber. Something in me stirred deeply - and I'll not lie, as you will find all my writings to be truthful and accurate, at least to my eyes - and told me to go with her. One may see this chronicle, and smirk to oneself, stating that the stirring was from my loins. Not so; her offer felt genuine, without fear that I may harm her in any way, and vice-versa.

She didn't seem irritated at all when I asked if I could stay with her. She did let me know she didn't eat meat. Do note that I had just spent two years of my life in the Clergy hall. Eating gruel. For every meal. I was sick of that concoction, so much that eating anything afterwards would be ambrosia, and I hadn't even smelled meat in so very long. It didn't appeal to me, and I told her this. She smiled... I could've melted through the floorboards and sunk into the earth and been eternally happy with that moment alone.

I followed her to her residence, a small cottage in the woods, roughly a mile away from the Inn. We talked lightly during the trip... well, I listened more as I attempted to dodge low branches and keep my footing in the underbrush. She glided through the area almost like a specter. I lumbered through it like an oaf.

The cottage was spacious. Resting between two valleys, the flowers and plants flanking it were a wonder to behold. She led me inside, telling me of the five rooms. She herself chose the master bedroom; of course, this was her home. I chose the one closest to the exit, for the simple purpose of being able to awaken and set about doing chores for my keep without awakening her. I had offered her the same sum it would cost to reside in the Inn, and she refused. I tried again, offering half, and she said not to offer payment, other than to upkeep the manor. A simple task indeed. It seemed everything I was forced to learn in training for the cloth would be my benefit now.

She showed me the room, and apologized at the minuscule dust that lingered in it. She then asked if I liked lox, a smoked fish of some sort. I had never tried fish, and I told her anything she would prepare for breakfast would be fine. So very sweet, she was, asking if I minded the dust... then if I liked fish... then if I even ate breakfast in the morn. The littlest things set me aglow. She left me to my thoughts, and it was then that I began writing down what was on my mind, no longer in a form of a letter to my parents, nay, but as a reminder of what I had done, and perhaps what I would do in the future. A place where I could go back and easily recollect my thoughts of past times, both good and bad. A journal.

Day 2

I awoke late today, going about my morning ritual of prayer and exercise. A healthy vessel is a strong vessel. I ate the lox prepared for me. Very tasty. She had spruced up the environs with sprigs of jasmine. I set about as my first task to freshen up the aroma. My first attempt brought too much of that odor in. I choked back nausea and quickly diminished the amount to a much more pleasant, and tolerable, level. I cleaned the platters well, and set them off to dry, and headed to a nearby stream to remove the stubble that had grown on my jaw. Caoimhe had mentioned I looked very young; that was reason enough to prove the sparsely-grown beard was doing nothing to accent age.

Cleaning off a bit, I returned. I hadn't checked to see if m'lady had risen, and I had only assumed she had. How else was I able to eat the salmon, after all? It appeared, though, that she had departed. That reminded me of something else I had forgotten; she had wanted to go to town and see about supplies, and wondered if I wanted to tag along. Of course I did, needing more parchment for my book, and a little extra ink and a spare owl feather, or even eagle feather quill wouldn't hurt either.

Time passed. No response. If anything, I was more distraught that she hadn't left me a good inkling of what she had wanted done in the way of chores. Still, another part of me wanted to make sure she was okay. I had no idea how long she would be away, as she had upped and suddenly departed. More time passed, and I thought of the Inn again. It was possible she was there, visiting someone, or having a glass of wine at least. After leaving her a note on the main room table, I slung my satchel over my shoulder and headed for the Lonely Inn.

Before I knew it, I was there, walking up the steps. I entered, and looked for Caoimhe, to no avail. At some point during that time, I met Kragg Grimm, a loud, foul-mouthed dwarf, whose battle cry seemed to be 'Women! Drink! Fights!'. In fact, it seemed he was getting his fill of both, with an elven girl I would later discover to be Kyrspeth, the other owner of the Healer's Guild.

After Kragg and Kyrspeth had their 'encounter', Grimm was quick to pass out. One less yelling dwarf to bother me, I was just fine with that. The day wore on, and I exchanged handshakes with others, names that elude me at this particular moment. The more notable and currently rememberable were Iria, a winged lady who was quick to tell me that ending her boredom would be best done by sending her into the throes of multiple orgasms.

You can only imagine how embarrassed I was to hear these words.

Bringing her up also allows me to recall Okirun. For all intense purposes, he appears, as such, a man... but something doesn't seem quite cut-and-dry about this one. For starters, I easily mistook him for a female. Granted, I would have been just as polite otherwise - and I was - the features were very much feminine. Also, he wished to be called Lady Okirun when my attempts at a respectful title for Iria were dashed when she told me she didn't act like one. A lady, that is. A third notation is the glare I could feel coming from Okirun when I had said 'my good man' to him. He didn't seem to like it at all. It's possible I'm seeing more into it, but again, this riddle doesn't seem to have an easy answer.

Nevertheless, Okirun's singing voice is amazing, as he did melody to my wordless recital of the Hymn of Steel-on-Steel. After only hearing a repeat, he jumped right in, a flowing, golden pitch that seemed too sweet to be true. It's possible he received that as part of his mother's elven side, but this half-elf does nothing but continually intrigue me.

I also met Grunt, a large ogre. He drank a foul mixture of several liquors dumped into a bucket, with whatever residue or cleaning solution that was already inside the pail to begin with. I gained wisdom as well, that my outstretched arm is considered small when compared to the average size of an ogre's manhood.

I wish I could mentally erase what I heard and saw as Kyrspeth and Grunt had their own 'encounter', but I fear I cannot. Here is where the men are separated from the boys; if I can't handle this with stalwart determination, then I will never be able to demask the mystery of the Clergy to the people who wish to know the truth. Nothing like being asked several times how well your vow of chastity is holding up. I never took such a vow, knowing that I would one day break it anyway. I am mortal, a man, and although my will is strong, I know that I could not hold such a vow forever in check... nor would I, or the Clergy, wish it.

After all, some of the greatest heroes ever to don the cross and chant the oath were second- and third-generation believers. If the Order demanded everyone to be chaste, how would these heroes come to pass? They, of course, wouldn't.

Not long after that, it was time to retire. I asked the gods for a source of light, and was granted one as my hand began to illuminate the darkness. It didn't take long to make it to the stone cottage, although I did have a difficult time navigating the area even with my glowing appendage. The same plants jostled me, tripped me, and otherwise served to be small, irritating barricades from me and a soft bed. Once inside, I checked the note, slightly saddened that it had not been disturbed.

I have disrobed, and am now about to get some rest. Hopefully, Caoimhe will be there in the morning.

Day 3

This morn did not find me with Caoimhe. I did, however, see Iria again, and others as well. Rather uneventful, save for a small fight with Kragg. His arrogance and belligerence were showing no soon end, and so I lashed forward, asking the gods, particularly Morpheus, to set him to slumber. It seems I wasn't the only one who demanded this, as another one weaved the fabric of sleep from the air. I can't say I agree with the policies of magic users; they seem to just take what they want, without giving thanks for it. Power without humility leads to corruption... I believe someone should inform that to the High Cardinal of the Clergy hall.

He arose not too much later, ready to take on someone else, until I stood from my seat and challenged him. We both scored powerful blows, but in the end, it was my strike that fell him to a point where he realized I wasn't someone to be underestimated. To think, all it took was my almost breaking my right hand on his helmeted skull!

Two pints later, I head home. I sleep, again hoping to see the enchanting centaur again. Iria had said she wanted to see her as well... although I believe she meant just to stare at her body. Her openness has made me smile a time or two, and helps to break the ice.

Till tomorrow...

Day 4

Another day here and gone, and still no Caoimhe. I'm beginning to get worried. I know I've only known her for little more than three hours, but tell that to my heart. I miss her deeply. I just want to know she's safe. I know she has some form of druidic power, as we had leaned a topic toward that the first night she led me to her home. Surely, she was not to be trifled with, but still...

I know my feelings are misplaced, but I do care. Who else would, after a few minutes, let me stay with them? Cross of Light aside, I could have been a violent, angry moor of a man, or a thief, or a murderer, or any form of wickedness. Of course, I am not, but the fact remains that she trusted me. In turn, I trust her with my life.

I feel my feelings for her only grow more fond, if that is possible. I'm sure it is, as there are still so many things I do not know about her. Where is she from? What are her goals in life? What is her favorite color? Fragrance? I could drive myself to near madness with my thoughts of her.

I can't help but wonder if she thinks fondly of me. I can only guess no, she has only met me, and knows very little of myself. Still, the way she looked at me, it felt as if I was standing in a warm sunbeam each time those dark eyes felt fortunate to dwell on this unworthy vessel.

I mustn't assume too much; to do so would be disastrous. To think, if in the weeks to come, her attitude toward me would possibly turn hostile, or agitated, and she were to evict me... To build up my emotions for her any higher would cause me to fall harder than I know I would right now. Such a thing would be a serious tumble that would be difficult for me to continue on from.

Another trip to the Inn, another time I didn't see her. I did meet up with one Tsuneko, a cat person from far away, in a mountainous region. He was overtly polite, insisting he call me 'sir'. His trade appears to be a mouser and a tailor. I gave him a general wish to have a robe made for combat created, grey in color, with red trim and red crosses down the front, back, and arms. He told me that for 12 Mhl, he could have it done overnight. I'll make sure to tell him that whenever he's ready to accept the order, I'm willing to place it. I have faith in his abilities, and I know it will be a splendid piece of craftsmanship. Now I just need to be around when he is.

To home, somewhat early. A fellow there I spoke with, whose name eludes me, was a worker for the baths. He told me of the hot springs, where I might soak, with 'good company' as he put it. I may take him up on the offer later, if just for the hot soak. My fight with Kragg appears to have left my right hand slightly less responsive and sore, not to mention my abdomen, where he rammed his whole self at me full-force and laid waste with wild, strong, unmeasured blows of rage.

I visited the stream to wash myself slightly and to rid myself of the stubble that threatened to make an encore performance. Now, back in the main room of the manor, I will soon rest.

Where are you, m'lady?

Day 5

The gods answered, and it was a shout of joy.

Too bad I was near-deaf and almost did not hear it.

Late afternoon, my body awoke me, somewhat stiff and unresponsive. My nose picked up no new odors, and my eyes had a partial haze. Perhaps I picked up some sort of impurity in the water yesterday that clouded me. I rose, performed the rituals and exercise, then was on my way to the Inn, never mind the rumbling in my stomach.

Hunger be damned, I needed a drink.

Walking into the Inn, I went towards the only monument my tired eyes could focus on. Grunt. I asked him for something to wake me from the dead, which was barely received by the hulking giant. However, someone else was listening loud and clear, and answered my request...

The tap was not felt. The soft, warm kiss upon my right cheek was.

At first, I was a bit unsettled. Who would approach me like this? My mind was still very slow to react, though, and all I could do was turn my head to the direction of whoever laid their lips on my flesh.

My entire insides flip-flopped.

Caoihme.

Face flushed, smile quite visible, I faced her. She looked quite spent, the past few days seeming to show not much sleep to her. Despite that, she looked as radiant as ever.

I had to fight down my first impulse - to take her in my arms, hold her close, to tell her how much I missed her, that I cared - and instead tell her that I had kept her home well while she was away. My entire being longed for her, ached for her, and all I could do was try and keep calm under the pressure. I know I was failing miserably... She didn't respond badly, though. Either she was being polite... or perhaps she liked what she saw?

I assume too much.

She told me of guests she would be entertaining tonight. A man named Night, who did the work of a forest scene on her quarterstaff, would be stopping by for dinner. She asked me if I wished to stay at the Inn for the night, or come with her.

Rampaging minotaurs couldn't have hoped to drag me away from her side. Of course, I said I would be delighted to help her entertain him. He could've been the most hated enemy of the Clergy, and I would have still come.

I take back my blasphemy. I may not show respect to my undeserving High Cardinal, but I will not speak ill of my Clergy hall. I ask the gods to forgive this vessel, but I'm sure they understand the intent of my words.

Whilst we continued to the cottage, more conversation continued. There, I noticed the smell of fresh salmon. It was then she informed me that lox was salmon, only the dried, smoked variety, and that when fresh it should taste even better. With a smell that appetizing, I didn't find her statement so hard to believe.

She watched as I demonstrated my handiness with a knife as I minced some herbs for a light cream which was for the prepared salmon. Handy as I may be with a blade in the kitchen, I am poor to use one in a fight. Besides, I have always preferred a blunt weapon in combat. As clumsy as I am at times, I'd be too afraid of grabbing the blade of a sword I was carrying and lopping off my own fingers. At least with a smiting weapon, I can rest assured I can grasp it most anywhere and not fear losing digits.

She would not speak of her past, and I would not push her once I realized her resistance to the subject. I will do my best to guess at nothing on this subject. She and she alone can open my eyes to whatever she wishes me to see in reference to this matter.

The door was jarred by a knock. It seemed the guest had arrived. I went to answer the door while Caoimhe finished up the very last of the preparations. I met Night, and he was not alone. At his side was a girl, named Lydial, a very curious lady.

Night seemed to get the wrong impression twice, at first thinking I was the owner of the abode, which was expelled by Caoimhe's welcoming voice from the kitchen, then secondly stating that I was exceptionally close to Caoimhe. She dismissed it in a way, but not in a way that made it sound like the possibility was not favora- No, I will not read more into this than is there. M'lady simply stated that I was her boarder. I had introduced myself as her friend. It wasn't contested, and so I assume it was either unheard, ignored, or stood as such.

The meal was exquisite. The smell, however sumptuous, did not do it justice once it was bitten into. I toasted to Caoimhe's fantastic cooking skill, and Lydial, after touching anything that looked to be of interest and talking to a houseplant, toasted to Caoimhe, something to do with the stars blessing her. It was precious. I wish I would've thought of that.

The wine was wonderful, a vintage from the Sylvan that Night had picked up during one of his travels that he had brought with him for the occasion. It was smooth, but had just enough bite to not be completely written off as a common weak elven wine. It also went along perfectly with the fish.

Once the meal was complete, I cleared the table in haste, and we adjourned to the drawing room. There, Caoimhe and Night discussed a few things which only they need know about, while I looked out over the stars and Lydial stayed close to Night. Earlier, she had dispelled any notions of being 'just friends' with Night when she had put it bluntly that they were lovers.

After the parting goodbyes and with me removing the water pitcher and glass that Lydial had requested, the door was shut, and she seemed slightly relieve to see them go, if just for the fact that her past few days had been very tiring. It was true, she looked exhausted. But even exhaustion could do nothing to mar her beauty. Again, I informed her that I had done my best to make sure her home was clean and neat in her absence to the best of my ability without any instruction of how I should be cleaning. She implied that, along the lines, I was doing a good job.

The next part still strikes me as... very curious.

I told her that I did not touch her room while she was gone, and so her bedclothes weren't freshened. She seemed to pause... perhaps to think over what I had said? I had no idea. Quickly, my mind churned, that maybe I didn't say something properly. But what?

It was then that I felt her lips on mine. Although it was done as quickly as it started, it felt like someone had lit me ablaze. Every part of me quivered, and it took every fiber of my will to keep my legs from collapsing right then and there.

I barely heard her departing words, as the blood in my ears pounded so loud, so hotly. I simply told her 'goodnight m'lady', and quickly busied myself with the book that I have in my hands right now. I wasn't so deafened by my reaction that I heard her hooves stop trodding the planks. She had stopped for a reason. Slowly, I braved a glance.

Her smile... was to die for.

I know she saw my reaction. I know she saw me close my eyes slowly, slowly still nod my head towards my book, and continue to write the very beginning that I hath already scratched down. Her steps continued down, her door opened, and I heard it close.

When this entry is finished, the platters will be washed, the floor will be swept, and I will do my very best to get some rest. If my thoughts still churn like they are at this moment, one hour past my beginning, I fear I shall get very little sleep tonight.

...Caoihme.

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