A Moment Longer

As the War Drums again beat I followed my Horde Brothers and Sisters
to the Grim lands of Tol Barad, a barren pitiful speck of rock whose
roots soak with blood. I follow there whenever possible because the place
is a prison to the souls of those who can not pass on, forever chained to
that place, so I go to ensure the fallen in each battle find their way home.

When the cries of battle and the clang of steel passes and there is no further
glory to be had the victors and the defeated trudge off to heal their wounds,
and the battlefield becomes the home of the dead. Passing through the piles
of departed...Horde and Alliance I walk chasing off wicked spirits who seek
to claim another prize and helping guide those confused souls of the recently
departed find their way to the next place. It was during such work that I happened
upon a human man, huddled on his side, next to a tree. As I paused to look at him,
clear blue eyes looked up at me frightened, pained...Baron's will...this was a child.
His face clear and fresh as that of a youth, yet dressed in the garb of a man...sent
out to die. We Trolls are known for our brutality...but sending a child to war..is
even beyond our ken.

Stopping I stared down at the human and noticed the numerous and grievous wounds
that covered his body, his life had bleed the ground red around him and he lacked
the strength to reach the blade only a short way from his fingers. I saw his lips
curl into a snarl and while I did not understand his strange language, I perceived
that he challenged me. He had courage an admirable trait, but as his eyes swept
left and right and the realization sunk in that his companions had abandoned him
to his fate, I could feel the tightness in his heart grow as fear quickly replaced
his final attempt at bravado. I turned to leave him to his fate when he suddenly
raised his hand, a gesture...imploring me not to leave. Long did I stand struggling
with my feelings, this..man..this boy had likely sent friends to their death..yet still
I could not abandon him...Death cares not for banner on a shield, it only knows it's duty.

I moved to sit with the young man and for long unspoken moments we remained, he did not
wish to die alone, a simple request from a man who faced his demise. I retrieved his weapon
and placed it in is hand...to weak to hold it I closed his fingers around the handle. As I
watched his life slowly drip from him onto the cold rocks, and his breath shortened I sat
and waited a moment longer till with a gasp his life ended. I closed his eyes and rose
from my spot offering a blessing to the Baron to see this boy on his way. Turning to walk
off I paused to look back, no songs would recount this child's bravery, no stone would bear out his
deeds, in time no one would remember that he even existed, save for his enemy who with
compassion was willing to wait just...a moment longer.

The Staircase Dark

I record this entry in shadowscript because I quite simply lack the strength to lift a quill.
I spent the better part of last evening leading two Tribemates deep into the odd place to
show them their loved ones who had passed on before. The journey made so many times proved to
be more difficult than I had anticipated as the Odd place's draw is very strong, and the deeper we went the more powerful it's fingers wrapped about them. That is the effect...once it has you, it does not want to let you go, and I spent a great deal of my energy insulating them from harm. I do believe they were aware of the dangers around them, but to their credit they followed as directed. The end result was well worth the pain I now endure and the fathers were instrumental in the success of this trek, rescuing both Tribemates when I collapsed from exhertion.

The spirits of the dead were amenable to meeting their living relative...after some prodding by me. Their concern...and rightly so was that it was a dangerous thing to bring the living to the land of the dead..they agreed only when I relayed the pain and suffering I found in the heart of their child...who was forced to bury her entire family. I must say, I am usually impassive during such meetings but the depth of emotion and joy touched my shadowed heart. I have buried my entire family and year after year I lay more to rest, so I can empathize with the grief that wells up within a person. However I saw genuine love for the first time in many, many years and my faith in the decency of the living has been renewed. I was also particularly impressed with the mate of the afflicted who was for lack of more colorful prose...willing to walk into the underworld for her beloved.

I did not mention it at the time, but I visited the burial site of the tribemate's honored dead, and blessed and consecrated it. It was my duty to do so, however in this endevour I must confess I took personal joy in such. As I sit in my chair watching the soft rain tapping on my window I wonder when my time comes, will someone lay flowers on my grave? I suppose I have many, many years to ponder that question, but for now I must rest and regain my strength...I have to prepare a ritual for another Tribemate on the next moon.

The Lantern Lights the Way

Several of the Tribe have approached me to assist in matters dealing with the odd place. I will of course not record their names here as it is a private matter. Long have I meditated on these requests searching the shadows for their requests...but no matter how deeply buried a thing is...the revealing Light of my lantern sees all. My work to thwart the Nothingness that plagues our Tribe continues and we have collected several of the items we need, the Fathers have been surprisingly helpful in this task...but their silent assistance concerns me..they know something they are not revealing.

Private note...this evening we traveled to the kingdom under the molten mountain and faced a foul creature in the form of a Dwarf. It requested single combat against one of our finest warriors, then attacked the entire Tribe. Many were wounded and nearly killed...and the Baron was highly incensed that this creature would attempt to ruin his plans for the Tribe to survive. This dwarf knows not what he has done, what terrible unspeakable horrors await him when he lays his head on his pillow for the last time. When that last breath whispers from his lips I shall be there to capture it, fingers of bone and shadow will drag him to hell where we shall have an eternity to define the very meaning of pain.

At the Gates of Forever

The light rain was a pleasant gift from the Loa to refresh the flowers I placed at the graves.  I took it as a good Omen for the evening. Most of the Tribe turned out to witness the opening of the Boneyard and I felt a great swell of pride at their reaction to my labor. Silent wide eyed expressions told me all I needed to know that my work was appreciated. Wha-yes I know you helped, I was getting to that! In any case I was pleased to see the presence of several Will Workers, for they can fully appreciate the extent that i've done to complete the sacred resting places. Our Tribal Shaman Pip was in attendance as well as her Mate Urukha who has walked far down the path of the Shaman, and a Goblin Shaman Fizcrank whose entire aura flowed with the power of the elements...our Tribe is truly blessed with such fine Shaman breasts-What!? No not breasts, spiritual powers...and will you STOP interupting me! Yes i'm aware the Orcess had them as well..Baron's touch if you interupt me again I will toss you into the lake. Getting back on track...the Tribe brought many kind offerings to Bwonsamdi..I was touched at the gesture and the Baron was very pleased, and has agreed to lend his aid to the Tribe.

The Shamaness Urukha was brought to tears at the site of the burial mounds, and my shadowed heart ached to see such a kind soul pained in loss. As the Baron is my witness I will put peace to that child's lost ones, if it means dragging them from the darkest pits of hell. The Tribes reverence and generosity towards my work will not be forgotten. Yes i'm glad you agree...oh now you wish to be helpful..how kind....oh I see you want a taste of the steak I was given...typical.

Bless the Bones

Several in the Tribe have expressed their desire for me to see after the remains of their
departed. This pleases be greatly that they would entrust this duty to me, Baron's will be
done I will set their loved ones at rest in my Boneyard. No matter their sins, their race
or the way they entered my master's domain all shall be forgiven. This task, this sacred
task carried out by hundreds of generations of Witch Doctors before me shall be upheld
for there is peace and kindness in death, the pleasure in one's duty is what I exist for
and booze..wait what!? Not booze..I asked you to be quiet while I write..how did you ever
manage to attain enlightenment...I swear it's like I live with a bunch of hormonal teenagers.
I'm serious be silent or back in the sack you go...the lot of you.

Burning Leaves

In a rare moment of peace...I gathered the fallen leaves from the Boneyard today,
and burned them near the shore of the lake. The sun was setting and the effort sapped
my strength so I sat near the shore and watched the fire rising into the sky. Small
cindered leaves, the spines of their shape a glow like luminescent bones..then fading
into nothing. The earthy smell of the leaves mixed with the flames, brings so many
memories back to me. Long I sat and enjoyed the moment, the flickering flames mirrored
on the water, the smell of burning leaves in the air...the moment was beautiful...so few
learn to see the beauty...the austere quality of the end of life, so noble so final..like
a life the leaves are born, grow and absorb the energy of the world about them, then in
the end they flicker once again and return that energy to the world...pure glowing flames
illuminate the waterline. It is no mistake that I the agent of Death were meant to witness
such things, for I can never return anything to the world in the way these leaves do, so I
sit and watch, humble before the cycle of life and death, serving it forever. The fire grows
dim, the moon takes her place in the sky and I the hand of Death sit on the shore of this lake
my relection showing the skull beneath the skin..the Skull Beneath the Skin.

The Noose Tightens

The Regent has revealed much of the cause of the sickness and I see this
was brought upon the Tribe by it's own actions. I see the hand of the grave
about the throat of many Tribe members, at first this confused me but now
I see they are infected. I straddle a great divide between my desire to assist
and my duty to let death follow it's course, I fear soon I will bring little
candles to adopted brothers and sisters. The children will remain safe
this I have seen to.

Broken Bones & Moldy Tomes

My Hut complete, graveyard nearly done and the fathers hanging
from a nice place on the wall, they can see the Lake. What? Yes
I remembered to seal the Boneyard...are you quite done can I be
the Witch Doctor now? Thank you very much...Anyway I met with the
Tribal Elders and curiously enough the Tribe is run by an Elf. I
also set out to help Pip with..what? Stop interupting me, NO
I will not comment on her breasts..no I don't care if you like them.
Baron's sake you are dead you can't even do anyth- you are dirty old
men and I will not ask her to show you them. ANYWAY I am assisting the
Tribe with a sickness that seems to have infected them. I suspect there
is more to this tale than is being told to me, I will consult the bones
and see what can be seen.

Da Voodoo Mon Come-Come Callin'

My Journey complete, I have arrived at the Tribal lands.
I find a Tribe rich with tradition, but afloat on a sea
of confusion without guidance, without a Witch Doctor.
I have come at the request of my adopted Nephew Zon'Krul.
I find a fellow will worker, the Shaman called Pip trying
to hold the Spiritual well being of the Tribe together by
herself, and I must confess I am both impressed and offended.
However...what concerned me most, was the Tribe lacked
proper burial grounds, such an offense to the Loa, to the Baron
to be ignored thus. I will rectify this immediatly, I begin work
on a Boneyard tomorrow. Quiet fathers! I am writing I will get you
out of the sack shortly...Loa those men are more demanding dead
than they ever were alive.