The Chronicles of Laira (2ο μέρος)

[Sonya]

Όνομα Συγγραφέα: Sonya

Είδος: d&d fantasy

Βία; Ναι

Σεξ; Όχι ακόμα

Αριθμός Λέξεων: 1.181

Αυτοτελής; Όχι, 2ο μέρος

 

Sarekila, the 27^th of Sercim, 534^th year of the reign of Emperor Lathaniel

 

I have cried, I have cried my eyes out. I cried so much, that I thought I would fall sick. But that will not do. I must recall everything from the beginning.

 

Yesterday I had all the time to myself. I walked here and there, tested my new lyre, I enjoyed a piece of normality. When the night came, without having seen my master all day, I decided to have a nice, long sleep. Just when I had closed my eyes, I heard a whisper in my room. Certain that it was some trick of my master’s absurd imagination, I ignored it and tried to sleep. But the whisper continued and it ended up a yawp, coming from my closet, urging me to open it. I cursed behind my teeth, but I could not avoid it any longer and so opened the door. My master appeared and after a most entertaining conversation (which included taking off my clothes in order to put them back on and go for a “secret mission”, as well as my master complaining that I had locked him in the closet which I hadn’t opened all day) we departed in absolute secrecy. The guards saw us, of course, but that obviously was not a sign of suspicion to Gilthanas.

 

We rode to a house, a little out of the city; I on horseback and he riding an enormous goat. On the way we found my dear Sirdan, who was still picking mushroom. The goat ate most of his exercise, which really irritated him, but we had no difficulty in persuading him that he never saw us that night. I forgot to mention that both Gilthanas and I were dressed in huge, black cloaks and hoods. Anyway, I managed to save a few mushroom for my dear friend and we rode on.

 

When we reached the house, my master told me that, besides being a bard and the master of the Bladers, he was also some kind of punisher for the wicked. I had long ago decided not to argue with him, when he spoke in such an absurd manner. I thought it was a joke. He told me, smiling all the time, that we would go and right some wrongs. I thought it was a joke…

 

He put on that hideous mask of his, along with the terrible glove, the one bearing iron claws. He asked of me to do the same and not be recognizable. Still thinking it all a joke, I put on my cloak in such a manner that only my eyes were visible. Gilthanas picked the lock of the door and entered. I stayed out and watched from the window. Dear Tempus, I thought it was a joke! Inside the house, a couple of elves were sleeping peacefully. My master woke the male up by… by tearing his guts out of his belly. The female woke up screaming, as Gilthanas pulled out her husband’s bowel with one hand, her head with the other and started hanging her with the bowel from the ceiling. At the sight of that, I vomited instantly, but, as soon as I partly recovered from the shock, I ran in the house, grabbed a kitchen knife and cut the hideous rope. The female fell down, but that did not stop my master. Laughing like a madman, he tore her face apart with his claws and left her there, still alive. As an act of mercy, I ended her life, by stabbing her in the heart. Shocked, furious, almost hysterical, I scram to him that he was sick, evil, I declared that I was leaving, that I wanted no part in this, but he grabbed my wrist and held me still. With his free hand, he opened a hatch on the floor and pulled me in. What I beheld there was something that my imagination would never, could never conceive: in the basement, mutilated arms and legs of elven children were dry-salted and ready to be eaten. I was shocked, disgusted, but I had to suppress it, since there were two living children, locked in a cage. At once, I ran to them and persuaded them to trust me. At last, they both came to me and I realized that one of them had an arm missing. Trying to remain calm, I picked them up, covered their faces in my cloak and led them out. Following my master’s instructions, I put them on the goat, convinced them that they were safe and let them go.

 

When all action was over, I felt numb. I needed time alone. Gilthanas left me and I took out a few parchments and tried to write, in order to calm myself. But that would not do. I cried, softly, but loud enough for Sirdan, who was accidentally coming my way to hear me. Worried, I guess, he approached and asked me the reason why I was crying. I could not tell him, since my master had demanded absolute secrecy, but I tried to explain him my feelings as best I could. The truth is that I felt and still feel mad about Gilthanas. Why had he not prepared me for this? Why did he act as if this was a joke? His behavior was uncharacteristic. I felt my soul black, damaged, incurably dirty. All I wanted to do was to sing, tell tales and play my lyre. Demonstrate the beauties of our world. Why did I have to go through this? Anyway, the conversation gave me a piece of calmness that solitude had not managed to give. I thanked Sirdan and asked him to leave me and proceed with his exercise, which he did.

 

I called for my master and he arrived, still wearing the mask and laughing. That drove me mad. I went close to him and removed that hideous thing; I threw it on the ground. I saw his face. He was crying. Worse than that, there was enormous pain on his face. Thank Tempus, he has a soul. A few minutes later, he demonstrated me how many faces this awful mask has and I have come to wonder: the crying face was his real one, or just another mask?

 

He complained that I had not trusted him, that I had not shown faith in the rightness of his actions. He asked me if I wanted to leave and received a negative answer. He asked me what would happen if he wanted me to leave and I declared that this was his own choice, not mine. Finally, the goat returned and, at the first light of the sun we went back to the castle. Here I am now. It is afternoon and I spent all morning crying hopelessly. I seek the redemption of tears. After hours and hours, the tears dried and now so did the narration.

 

Is he humane or a fiend? Can he feel? Will I ever be clean again? Will this wound ever heal? I know not…

[Guest roriconfan]

Δεν το διάβασα ακόμα απλά θέλω να ρωτήσω γιατί το σπας σε διαφορετικά τόπικ αν είναι άμεση συνέχεια του προηγούμενου.

[Sonya]

Για να μην ψάχνουν τις συνέχειες ανάμεσα σε ποστς όσοι θέλουν να το διαβάσουν.

 

Επίσης, για να χρησιμοποιήσω την επιλογή

 

 

 

Αυτοτελής; (Ναι/Οχι.) (Αν όχι, ποιο μέρος είναι αυτό; 1ο; 2ο; 3ο; κοκ)

 

[Tiessa]

Ουπς! Τα πράγματα κινήθηκαν πολύ ταχύτερα και προς πολύ διαφορετική κατεύθυνση απ' ό,τι φανταζόμουνα. Αυτό θα πει ανατροπή! Και μετά ανατροπή της ανατροπής! Καλό το θέμα και κινεί πολύ γρήγορα την ιστορία. Έντονο το συναίσθημα, ενδιαφέρον και το όλο πλέγμα του ένοχου μυστικού που αρχίζει να μοιράζεται η Laira με τον Gilthanas. Κι όπως φαίνεται -αν κρίνω από τις λέξεις με τις οποίες περιγράφει η κοπέλα το δάσκαλό της στην εισαγωγή του πρώτου μέρους- θα δούμε κι άλλες πτυχές αυτού του ενδιαφέροντα χαρακτήρα. Για να μην πω τίποτα για το ξάφνιασμά μου ότι συμβαίνουν τέτοια πράγματα μεταξύ ξωτικών! Στη φαντασία μου τα ξωτικά είναι συνδεδεμένα με τα πλάσματα του Τόλκιν. Κανιβαλισμοί και ξεκοιλιάσματα δεν περνούσαν από το μυαλό μου...

 

Το ερώτημα τώρα είναι το εξής: Αυτά τα χρονικά καταγράφονται ως ημερολόγιο του παιχνιδιού και της ιστορίας που προέκυψε, ως draft μυθιστορήματος ή ως μέρος ενός ολοκληρωμένου έργου; Γιατί αν μεν είναι το πρώτο ή το δεύτερο, όλα καλά. Αν ωστόσο πας για το τρίτο, αισθάνομαι ότι η διήγηση είναι τηλεγραφική, σαν απλή περίληψη. Δεν υπάρχουν περιγραφές και τα γεγονότα δεν αιτιολογούνται αρκετά. Από την ελάχιστη πείρα που έχω από d&d ξέρω ότι συχνά έτσι λειτουργούν οι χαρακτήρες. Βρίσκονται σ' ένα πλαίσιο που δεν καλοκαταλαβαίνουν και η αλήθεια αποκαλύπτεται σταδιακά. Από την άλλη, σ' ένα ολοκληρωμένο έργο, χρειάζονται άλλου είδους hints για να ακολουθεί ο αναγνώστης.

 

Πάντως, μ' ενδιαφέρει. Καλή συνέχεια.

[Sonya]

Βασικά, τα χρονικά της Λάιρα είναι το ημερολόγιό της και το σημειωματάριό της. Γι αυτό έχει τα διάφορα συμβάντα που συνέβαιναν μόνο σ' εκείνη κι όχι στον Σίρνταν ή τον Γκιλθάνας από μόνους τους. Περισσότερο το έγραφα για να γελάμε με τα παιδιά (κυρίως το πρώτο, στο οποίο το βικτωριανό λεξιλόγιο τους έκανε να σαπίσουν στα γέλια) και γιατί ήταν κομμάτι του rp μου. Δηλαδή, αυτά δεν τα γράφει η Χριστίνα για να περιγράψει τον χαρακτήρα της Λάιρα ή το παιχνίδι, τα γράφει η ίδια η Λάιρα και είναι προσβάσιμα και στους υπόλοιπους χαρακτήρες, αν τα βρουν.

 

εδίτιον το συμπλητωματικόν:

 

Τα ξωτικά του Τόλκιν (και των κόσμων d&d) είναι κατά βάση καλά όντα. Τα ξωτικά στον κόσμο του dm είναι πολύ διαφορετικά. Για να σου δώσω ένα κομμάτι του Γκιλθάνας, το οποίο δεν θα δεις στα χρονικά, καθώς η Λάιρα δεν το γνωρίζει, του είχε προταθεί απ' το πάνθεον αυτού του κόσμου να γίνει θεός του χάους, επειδή σαν χαρακτήρας αντιπροσωπεύει το χάος, κι αυτός είχε αρνηθεί. Για ΤΟΣΟ χαοτικό ον μιλάμε. Επίσης έχει υπάρξει παντρεμένος, αλλά ο καλός μου dm αρνήθηκε να μου πει, έστω και oog πού και ποια είναι (ή ήταν) η γυναίκα του.

Edited November 7, 2008 by Sonya

[Tiessa]

Βασικά, τα χρονικά της Λάιρα είναι το ημερολόγιό της και το σημειωματάριό της.

 

Νομίζω καλύφθηκα.

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