Lariana

I am returned from my sojourn; I was sent to serve Lanofse in her Temple, in the Mirror of the Southlands. She is effective as a Matriarch, but I fear she is often misunderstood. She has a long view of the world, and of time, and has patience enough to allow fate to play out as it should. It is hard on everyone, that sort of patience. Endurance is more a strength than most people understand.

And so I must endure. There were no problems on the road back to this temple; Terk accompanied me, as he always does, but he was left to wander the surrounding wilderness; he is still kept from me while I am in the Temple. It's just as well; it is difficult to work quietly when he is around. His heart is good, and he is a true friend, but he does not understand the need for quiet and contemplation. I have not been able to explain this to him, and I am saddened to see his hurt when I must send him off, but he has come to a sort of baffled and pained acceptance of this. On the road to the Temples of Spring Green, he was happy, and he tried very hard to find evil to fight on the way back, but Nahla was with us, Nahla and her great power, and she kept Terk in check whenever he wanted to go off and seek his battles.

Now, we are here. I am awaiting the word to leave. They have tried many magics to reverse what has happened to me, but nothing has succeeded, and it may very well be that I shall have to relive puberty.

I await a new sending. I must talk to Caseah, but I know not when she shall return.

Terk spent some considerable time over the winter, walking among the soldiers camped in Spring Green 2 years ago. I don't really remember what happened with that. There were many, many Orcs infesting the mountains at the time, keeping the pass closed, and the soldiers wintered here to prepare for the coming drive to remove the Orcs.

I spent my time in the temples, though, adjusting to this body--readjusting, really--and trying to learn to work with the limitations I currently have.

I saw Terk from my window the other day; standing there stoically beside his horse, a pony's bridle in his other hand. I can almost hear him thinking: Evil walks the land, why are we not out there fighting it.

Terk would never be so eloquent, though. He's more likely to say "My Witch! Come with me! Bad things!" At the beginning of winter, he tried to set his Battle Hamster on the guards in an attempt to get me out, but now he's doomed to patience. It's hard on him. I feel for him. He's not bright, but he is sincere.

This business of being sequestered is killing me.

I've been wondering what happened to that box. It was from my first time out, the box I found in the stairwell alcove, the stairwell that led to the monster that would attack us when we tried to get close to the altar.

It was a long time ago, it seems; I can hardly remember who I was travelling with, anymore. An elf, a halfling. You'd think I'd know, but so much has happened to my body that sometimes things from before the change are a little fuzzy.

Anyway, it was a box, wood and copper. I couldn't get it open. We needed the lamp, and I took the box with at the same time, thinking that perhaps it was a tinderbox, but I never could open the thing. It's been plaguing me recently, during this time of inactivity, with me restles and Terk regularly trying to break into the temple, demanding "Give me my witch back!" at the top of his lungs. What happened to that box?

I'm neglecting my duties as a scribe. I should be writing the happenings of this day and age instead of writing the things that come to my mind, here in the dim light that pours from the window, quill still in my hand and eyes turned toward the light. The other question begging to be asked: Why can't I get this box off my mind?