Entry Twenty Four: Butterfly Effect
One sits by the waterfall of Towerglan as thoughts flutter around his mind like Butterflies. Many things have happened within the borders of this homestead. From Weddings and the Newborn… To Death and Betrayal…
As one glances into the distance, smoke rises from that which he could once call a safe haven. The Dawn Hall remains intact, as he remembers. Within those walls, one once knew friend from foe but now he does not. Many moons have come and gone, since one could call himself a member, a sigil bearer… But the memory remains strong, as that of the beloved, Lirita…
Though all are not so, one has some fond memories of the Bloody Dawn. The first time entering, being forced upon to remove one’s hood and cowl before some of Bree’s most notorious cut throats. Not one for flattery, one does remember the compliments from many a sellsword. Neyaa, of course but others including the successor of the Captain, Hyrien who would become a dear friend.
One begins to wonder what happened to some of his old friends, acquaintances and rivals. Neyaa spoke of Hyrien, returning to Gondor… Returning Home… One once spoke of returning alongside her, though that day would have appeared to pass. The deaths of Hardoleth and Ardeghon, really took its toll upon the girl. As what one had last saw of Hyrien she appeared empty, a shell of what once was. It was almost a reflection of one’s self, merely in another’s vessel…
Ardeghon, the man with the silver tongue… One shared few but entertaining adventures with the odd fellow. That of the request to aide “Lord” Gerwolf. If not for the enjoyment of his poems, one may have lost mind to the order in which commanded…
That would not be the only time paths where crossed with the self-proclaimed lord… A dear friend one made in a man known as Deorgast. As many men, Deorgast fell for another’s woman by the name of Glorria. As a company, the Bloody Dawn even attended the binding of Glorria to her betrothed, Lord Emion. Though the love Deorgast held burned brightly and in learning of the “mistreatment” of Glorria, his blood would boil.
One would accompany Deorgast to confront the Lord, only to be met with Gerwolf and his advisor. Words where heated and swords almost drawn, but after the interruption of Neyaa, Deorgast saw fit to leave and check on Glorria. It was then things would sour. After a brief argument just beyond the wall of Towerglan, Glorria would take her own life. One would attempt to heal the wound, though the dagger she used was driven deep. She died within one’s arms, leaving two men distraught with grief. It was only after they learned, she carried a child…
Children… It was a topic spoke occasionally between one and Lirita. Though it never came to be. One was robbed of such a chance, when Lirita fell within the Mines of Moria… Though each day, one mourns the loss of his betrothed, a blessing did come from joining the Bloody Dawn. Not a daughter by blood, yet one that will always be cherished… Teleyn…
Though the Bloody Dawn was known for its ruthless leadership and bravado, young Teleyn brought an innocence and cheer to the Dawn Hall. One fondly remembers the first time he met the young woman who aided in the cleaning and cooking for the Hall. She would often question why one remained hidden beneath a hood, but his heart could not tell her the truth. One remembers when he brought Teleyn her first horse, teaching her how to ride, hunt and defend herself. One had sent word for her to join him at his home, but word would appear never to reach her. One only hopes, Teleyn found happiness, wherever she may roam.
Though these short and brief, they are fond memories of a time one would not wish to change. For if one butterfly where to be crushed, all would be different. As one now looks upon the Dawn Hall, much has changed. Basaran, a man once evaluated by one of a contract into the marshes now holds the title, Captain. Taala, the daughter of Hardoleth who could once be called friend would now wish death upon one after what he has done.
Who knows what he will find once he crosses the doorway… But one knows that things will not be the same…
