Lost in the Mists

Saima's Journal: Stand my Ground

I’m embarrassed to say that I fell asleep before I could finish my last entry. And as you can see by the fact that I am writing a new entry, we survived Terror Island and retrieved the spyglass. Of course it required killing a horrific psychic sea creature and a small army of zombie pirates.

Never a dull moment in Ravenloft.

As we sailed back to the Briny Pig, I felt the fatigue that had plagued me for so long finally lift. In fact, everyone looked a little more uplifted by our victory except for Goodman, who seems to only be more irritated by our survival.

The thrill of our victory quickly faded when we boarded the ship and the crew finally dropped their warm and welcoming act. I could practically hear them thinking about how we were no longer any use to them. My companions and I have decided to go everywhere in teams of at least two now. I’ve chosen Zephyram, my closest friend in this group, to be my partner. Together we went with Lucas and Garret to the victory party with the crew. It was quickly evident that they didn’t want the three men there, and that they wanted me for… other activities.

The human part of me is terrified by their filthy propositions, but the vampire in me wonders what their blood would taste like. It’s the dual nature of being a half-breed, I suppose.
When we returned back to Goodman and Barlow (I’m surprised that Goodman didn’t kill him while we were gone) we told them what we learned. The former captain and the other men were left on that island to die. And we are all starting to get the feeling that helping Miredus is not on their to-do list. In fact, their intentions are likely the opposite. We will all try to get some rest for now, and see what fresh horror the morning will bring.

Unable to sleep, I cleaned off the zombie gore from my glaive, and studied the two trinkets that hang off it. I remember the day I made the glaive. It was the last and most magnificent weapon I have ever forged. When making a weapon, especially one that has arcana weaved in, it is important to infuse it with the intentions of its future use. As I watched the chunk of metal heat to red hot, I filled it with the thoughts of protecting my city and finding my daughter. I clutched my locket, with the lock of my daughter’s hair from her first haircut, close to my now unnaturally slow beating heart. And then I threw it into the fire, where it melted and fused with the hot metal. I like to think that in doing that, I added a bit of extra luck and magic into the blade. I almost threw the dragon charm in as well, but thought better of it and tied it to the pole after the glaive was finished. I like the visual reminder of why I joined the midnight watch in the first place. Someday, I may have the heart to write the story of the dragon’s original owner.

Today is not that day.



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