The Moonlit Road

Bishop Sept 13, 4:12 AM
The road to Hell

Sept 13, 4:00 AM This eve once I had finished my preparations for the Equinox Harvest Festival, I was sent a summons to present myself to The Queen of Autumn, Rosalynne Graves. As I had already settled in for the night, I put on my jacket and shoes and gathered my things and made my way to “Old Town.” I laugh at these names, Old Town… it was barely a street the way I remember it… but the chaotic mass that has erupted in the past century… but I forget myself.

I made my way to Madame Moon’s, a quaint small psychic shop hidden among the saloons and books store and other antiquates. Upon my arrival, I made tea for myself and the two ladies. I can never tell if I’m imposing or complimenting either of them, both for differing reasons. The Queen seems to be single minded from time to time and I feel almost as though my courtesies are interruptions, whereas Madame Moon seems only to be humoring me, as if I were a small eccentric child. Something must be done.

Moon has more power than I believe any of the other in the court quite grasp. She is too certain for my liking. I believe she has potential to be my greatest friend or quite possibly, my worst enemy. And the Queen has me a tad befuddled. Her delightful demeanor and easy ways are disarming and I find her almost spring like in her passions. But I can only assume that is because she has hardened a wonderful worldly mask. If she is to be as tied to the court of fear as her mantle suggests, her duplicitous visage would be stronger than even mine. And yet I like her. It would bode well for me to ally myself with them soon.

Regardless, the Queen informed me that she and Madame Moon were discussing a dream involving myself and three other aspirants and the fates of not just our freehold and way of life, but quite possibly Changeling society as a whole. I did my best to remain calm and poised, but I fear that I let my tea cup rattle a tad, and the surprise may have been apparent upon my face. This could be good news for me. I have been looking for a way to get another foot on the path to greatness. I will say this; I can understand why the spring court views their position as one to be reveled in. The potential for power is greater now than EVER it was before I was taken.

I took the following moments to busy myself with Tea, and I set out three more cups, as there were three more chairs around the table, I assumed our guests would be filling them. A striking lithe woman entered first, her appearance could be summed up in a word, blue; from the cerulean of her lips, to the azure of her hair, to the beautiful sorrow in her eyes. She seemed a tad confused as to why she had been summoned; after all, she was not of our court. I would wager she was a Winter, and a cold one at that. She took her tea with sugar. I found her name to be Ainsley.

Moments later three others arrived. Wyatt, whom I knew to be one of the chief officers in regards to protection from the hedge and that which lies beyond it, and two others; a man and a woman, both fresh from the hedge, bewildered and terrified. The woman quietly entered as if she wished she were invisible. Slinking into the chair, she bashfully accepted the tea before her. She had a grey complexion and long slender fingers. Her eyes reminded me of the fictitious hobbit Smeagol after years of solitude in the dark. She was introduced as Emma. I dare say she appears to have a passion for the bound word almost a fervent as my own.

The gentleman took the seat next to me; he had bulbous growths on his face and hands. They were reminiscent of gourds set out during the harvest. He had muddy green hair and a mouth that would not stay shut. No less than three times throughout the course of the evening I had to remind him politely that someone else was speaking and he should remain silent. Definitely a Spring… perhaps a Summer. They tend to be the more boisterous and lively.

Once these three had settled in, The Queen requested Wyatt find the gentleman some food, apparently he was famished after his ordeal in the hedge. I came to find his name was Bryce, and I he was to be my ward… until other arrangements can be made. My current duties for the festival preparation have been put on hold or delegated to other capable members. I hope not to resent this poor lad, it is hardly his fault. He snores and is currently sleeping on my couch, and part of my coffee table. I think I may yet grow to like him. I hope he doesn’t get in my way.

So on top of my headlong pursuit of glory within the Autumn Court, I must now contend with a loud, unruly Spring, and a pair of silent Winters, and the fate of Changeling Society the world over. I have a feeling I should be rather put out, but I hope to find this task enjoyable. It sounds as if something sly and underhanded may be beginning… and my ears tingle at the thought of the Gentry being on the receiving end for a change.

Lost and Confused

Today was one of the strangest I have ever experienced. The beginnings of it are lost to me, like the tingle of some strange dream that lingers on the edges of one’s remembrance – only flashes and feelings remain. I remember a feeling of oppression and of fear. Remember a road bathed in the light of the moon. I remember walking that road, almost dreamlike, for what seemed an eternity. The fear of being chased. Yet I remember nothing of before. Where I have been, what I was doing there. It frightens me. I have a very good memory and have never lost time like this – it has to have been at least three or four months. It was the middle of summer when I last saw my family. Now autumn leaves begin to fall from the trees and the air has turned crisp. They must be crazy with worry. My first thought when I started to remember myself was to go find them and let them know that I’m alright. I want to see my son Zak and give him and my husband Tristan a tight hug and never let go.

When I came to though, I was in a darkened alleyway with no sense of where I was. The world can be dangerous, at night especially, and I crept as silently as I could towards the beginning of the alley to try and figure out where in the world I was. The streets were darkened as far as I could see though, except a lone storefront. At first I began to slink away from the light but I heard a noise and saw a shadowy figure on the wall. Frightened, I crouched down in the shadows and tried to make myself as small and invisible as I could. But my fears were unfounded. The gentle lady that emerged on the stairs was one of the least dangerous, most kindly-looking women I had ever seen. When she called out, I breathed a sigh of relief, straightened up, and made my way over to her. Maybe she could tell me where I was and I could finally make my way home!

The lady Sophie, who was as kind and grandmotherly as she had first seemed, calmed my nerves considerably. She went upstairs to make a phone call and, clutching the delicious cup of chamomile tea she had given me, I noticed that she had a beautiful, uniquely organized bookstore that seemed to be her home as well. I smiled. Anyone who obviously loved books as much as she did couldn’t be all that bad. I let myself relax, set my tea down and waited for her to come back downstairs. When she came back downstairs, she said that she was going to take me to some sort of leader or something. I had only wanted directions but she had been so kind to me that I was willing to go along with her for awhile. We talked a little longer, during which she told me to look in the mirror. Curiously, I did so. At first I was startled at the alien creature that stared back at me, but I quickly chalked it up to nerves or maybe some kind of trick mirror and we were on our way.

When we arrived, it was to some sort of meeting. A meeting of some of the strangest creatures I had ever laid eyes on. A pumpkin-faced man with disturbing tufts of a grass-like something growing on his face was the only other one who seemed as lost as I was. There were leaves littering the ground that seemed to randomly disappear. A proper-looking man who looked like something straight out of a turn-of-the century novel, a blue lady with sorrow in her eyes, and two others who were just as strange leading the discussion. The only explanation I can offer for the strange costumes is that perhaps there was some sort of early Halloween party going on. The mood was anything but festive, however. They talked of things I didn’t understand. I felt so out of place. I usually have no problem following a discussion and understanding what is going around me. Since I’ve returned to myself, however, all I’ve felt is confusion and a sense of being somehow disconnected from the world I know. I don’t understand anything anymore. They named me a changeling, whatever that is, and told us that fate had decreed that we needed to do something important. Something that the fate of the world hinged upon. I felt like I was in some sort of epic fantasy novel. At least one of the women, Ainsley, let me stay with her for the night. She was beautiful and unearthly graceful. Her skin was tattooed with flowing drops of water and even her hair seemed to shimmer subtly. She seems kind enough. Perhaps in the morning I can finally figure out directions from her or one of these other people and make my way back home to Tristan and Zak. I just want to go home. Home…

Welcome to your Adventure Log!
A blog for your campaign

Every campaign gets an Adventure Log, a blog for your adventures!

While the wiki is great for organizing your campaign world, it’s not the best way to chronicle your adventures. For that purpose, you need a blog!

The Adventure Log will allow you to chronologically order the happenings of your campaign. It serves as the record of what has passed. After each gaming session, come to the Adventure Log and write up what happened. In time, it will grow into a great story!

Best of all, each Adventure Log post is also a wiki page! You can link back and forth with your wiki, characters, and so forth as you wish.

One final tip: Before you jump in and try to write up the entire history for your campaign, take a deep breath. Rather than spending days writing and getting exhausted, I would suggest writing a quick “Story So Far” with only a summary. Then, get back to gaming! Grow your Adventure Log over time, rather than all at once.


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