I’ve thought about starting a journal for a while, but I never could find the inspiration; but my sister Kaawenyth told me once that I shouldn’t need inspiration for a journal. Just write what I think and feel. I replied that I’ve never been a big thinker or feeler, and she just laughed and said I was lying to myself. I guess she’s right. I mean, I’ve had the same lover since I was a child, and I’ve read every book in the Library of Elden Root—okay, not every book, but a lot of them. Mum and Da always stressed that it was just as important to be well read as it was to be good with a blade and a bow. I just never thought much about it. I guess I learned and just didn’t realize it. Huh.
I’m posting new fanfiction starting today. This is the Journal of Gwenyth Nightvale. Gwen is the product of a roleplay on Elder Scrolls Online, and throughout the story, you’ll meet lots of interesting characters created by my guildies. I hope you come to love Gwenyth as much as I do.
Don’t worry; Amelia and Kaawen’s stories haven’t stopped altogether. I’ve just got a slight case of writer’s block where they are concerned, and I hope to start writing them again soon.
Interesting side note: Gwenyth and Kaawen are sisters.
Betath and Kaawen spent a couple of weeks doing random jobs around the island and getting to know each other. They used thunderbugs to get rid of a rat problem on a moon sugar plantation, helped solve a harpy problem, and assisted some Bosmer whose host tree was ill. Betath didn’t really understand what was going on with the tree, but it distressed Kaawen quite a bit. Apparently, these wood elves had summoned a spirit to heal the tree, but a kwama farmer’s livestock had gotten loose and was trying to eat the tree spirit.
“Have you ever tried to pilot a ship through a hurricane when your entire stock of kwama eggs hatches and goes completely bug-nuts?” the elf had said. “I’ve tried it; can’t recommend it.”
Kaawen hadn’t appreciated when Betath had laughed himself silly over it.
Abject terror. That was the first and last thing she remembered. She had been taken out of her bedroll by several masked thugs and rendered unconscious with some kind of spell. When she awoke, she was bound on an altar and a high elf was standing over with a blade, chanting. She didn’t even have time to scream before the blade came down and pierced her heart. One single moment of mind-blowing pain, and she felt nothing else.