Morrow Wolf

[marredwolf]

Name: Semmeam Ameco
Race: Wild Elf
Birthplace: The High Forest, northeast of the Dire Woods.
Personality: Militant Naturalist

Culture and Beliefs:
Mielikki is the matron of his old tribe, but he sees and follows nature as a whole pantheon, including other non-elf nature deities. Silvanus he sees as the great mender, able to bring all who follow in the many paths to a single cause. As coming from an isolated tribe, there are some notable differences between his culture and larger ones: First, Corellon is not the creator of the elven race, the elves came here from another world and the Seldarine are all brothers and sisters. Second, some of the Seldarine are not part of his culture at all; "Each elven realm and subrace places its own emphasis on the relative importance of various powers to the point where some members of the Seldarine fade from memory in some isolated elven cultures."

(the above is all taken from elven lore found in the forum)

From the FR online wiki:
"Wild elves have an approach to spirituality that is unusual among the Tel-quessir, even in comparison with the drow. While the wild elves honor and worship the Seldarine, they neither worship them exclusively, nor do they do it as part of the hierarchical and organized traditions that other Tel-quessir generally espouse. Instead, wild elven religious practice is often very informal and rooted in animistic traditions that see the fey gods as simply part of a greater pantheon that include primal spirits as well as the gods Mielikki and Silvanus...The majority of wild elves did not participate in the Retreat to Evermeet, instead using isolation as a survival technique..."

His culture evolved from deep isolation in the High Forest and long term contact with faeries, dryads, and other magical forest creatures, merging with already established and old elven beliefs. The usual allies/followers of certain Gods are not present in his culture, such as Mielikki being served by Lurue, Gwaeron, Shiallia and others. There are four remaining wild elf tribes within the territory. They all share the same customs and are all ruled by their respective druid circle.

Nature Pantheon of the High Forest Wolf/Bear/Hawk/Snake tribes:

Silvanus: the balance, the mender. the inclusive, high aspect of nature.
Selune: the moon, dreams and the doors to the otherworld. good lycanthropes.
Mielikki: the wolf. dryads and other magical forest creatures. the merging of the magical with the ordinary aspects of nature. she takes on the aspect of a wolf and her symbol is a white star on a leaf, instead of a unicorn.
Aerdrie Faenya: the hawk. air, weather.
Corellon Larethian: the bear. magic, music, arts, crafts, god of war and protector of the elven race.
Eldath: the snake. guardian of springs and other clean water sources.
Erevan Ilesere: the trickster. god of mischief, change, rogues, changelings.
Fenmarel Mestarine: the lone wolf. god of feral elves, outcasts, scapegoats, isolation.
Rillifane Rallathil: the silent oak. wood and wild elf forest protector.
Sehanine Moonbow: an aspect of Selune, one of her many faces.
Malar: bloodlust and marauders. evil lycanthropes.
The Deadites: all evil forces relating to necromancy.
The Darkness: all evil forces relating to outsiders.
Lolth: weaver of chaos, the hunted.


Descriptions:

Natural Form
An elf, tall with slim muscles, though none would recognize him as such by features alone. His face is scarred, yes, but done with the precision of a trained and malicious blade, his skin tightly re-stitched to his face showing all the facets of his skull with no other flesh beneath. His lips gone, his teeth bare, and his elvish ears have had their tips cut in a humiliating fashion. His head, when freed from his helm, is bound by dark cloth showing only his eyes beneath a bony brow, one green and one white, and his long black hair bound in dark leather.

Other Forms
As a wolf, he is slim and long legged, with a crooked white star on his forehead, an end of which runs the length of his snout. His other forms resemble common animals with no distinct features. In all his forms his two-eyed colors do not change.

Past and Path:
He was born in the High Forest. A follower of Mielikki and member of a small tribe of elves living in the seclusion of the endless green. Ruled by druids and taught from youth. Taken after the destruction of his village by orc malarites and twisted and turned into a tool for war. After years of this, his side was defeated and he was left for dead along with others on a vast battlefield, where he was rescued by the victors, a large army of elves. He seeks to strengthen the bonds of nature and goodness, and hopes to return to the High Forest one day and aid the efforts to restore Eaerlann, but for now it eases his mind to stay far away. This is not the story he would tell to someone asking of his past. He would say that he was taken by orcish slavers and eventually freed by passing elves.

"Let those who wish to live in their cities do so, says I, but let them know that the rest is already claimed and it will not yield."

[marredwolf]

*updated as world info is learned*

[marredwolf]

Journal Entry 8 Cormyr

My first steps into this kingdom have brought me my first ally, a panther that I have named Feralanx. She followed me for quite some time until deciding to approach and befriend me. I have learned thru a passing ranger that these creatures are revered in these parts, so I take our meeting as a blessing and a good omen that the forces of nature have welcomed me into these lands. A dog and a cat, traveling together. She seems quite protective of me, and this is troublesome since she is the one that needs to learn to be more careful. Playful she is not, not even when safety is secured, when relaxing we stand each in our own corners. She is a huntress with the mind of a killer.

Journal Entry 23 Greatgaunt

Arrived at where I was told I could find adventurers, having found no sign of a druid circle or elves living in the woods thru my passings. I had decided to stay at the local inn, if only to better adapt to the local populace and my surroundings, and to better learn their ways. On this day I had my first encounter with a dragon, or dragon-kin rather. Having only heard stories of the creatures, thru various sources on my way regarding something called the dracorage, I was ill-prepared. She was standing just outside the inn, her wings the only vestige of her true nature that I could discern from the low light. I approached her with care, asking two others next to her what she was. I was told then that she was a demon, a dangerous one in fact, and that I should be fearful, or some such thing. I drew blades at the creature, unsure now of what this town stood for, whether it be some home for miscreants or some evil hold of sorts, just to be informed then that she was in fact a dragon-kin. Did this little to quell my concerns and I pressed the matter, angered at the jest and trick played on me. I must admit that my old temper got hold of me again, and the better of me, and the confrontation turned from the dragon-kin to the three strangers near her. They bickered with me over laws and whatnot, nothing that I could follow easily. Eventually the others departed, and I was left alone with the she-dragon. A fortune turn of events, because then I was able to better understand her position. I was informed that she was of good dragon blood and that not all dragons were thus affected by the dracorage that drove their kind mad and made them vicious killers. We seem to depart in good terms, and at least some understanding was achieved in my part.


Journal Entry 30 Outskirts of Greatgaunt

I came upon a scene while patrolling the hills and trees. A group of dwarves and half-orcs on the verge of fighting over a woman. This was not some romance gone awry, but rather over the accusation that she was a necromancer. Many words were exchanged and when it seemed that the encounter would end peacefully one of the half-orcs, holding true to his blood, stood almost alone shouting fighting words at one of the dwarves. I saw it coming then and not a moments past the dwarf drew his weapon and put down his mouthy adversary. In a show of great mercy the same dwarf then cast a spell and brought his enemy back to life. The first good sign I've seen from the populace to date. Both groups departed then, vowing to slash each others throats when next they met. The woman in questioned stayed behind with her protector, a strong man named Dave, and she was in some sort of sickness of body or mind. I tried to tend to her, but it seemed beyond my means and so I advised them to risk moving her back to town, the night coming in and the orcs nearby made our position precarious. I'm not one to help necromancers, they are mortal enemies to the woods, but without proof, or even with, I could not stand idly by and watch a young woman suffer.

[marredwolf]

Journal Entry 33 The road to Valkur's Roar, where the river turns east

I have met allies, a paladin and a priest, both of whom I now trust. I have heard little of both their ways, but from I have learned they are mortal enemies to the deadites, and this alone makes us allies. As for the allies that I had originally planned and expected to meet, elves and other forest-kin, I have met only a few simple ones, new to the area themselves. Elves tend to suspicious, though usually giving the benefit of the doubt, but seldom to their own kind. There is certainly more going on in these parts than it seems. The druids of this area will not answer the markings I left upon the trees, and this just adds to my concern. Nature's allies are few and her enemies many. That they would not bring me into their fold shows a great distrust and cynicism brought upon from their many dealings with townsfolk, I am sure. They know of my presence, there's little doubt. For now I travel mostly alone, scouting and learning of the many powers holding over these lands. From these scoutings it has become obvious that neither the elves nor the druids in these parts have any control over what goes on, their strength falters like it did back home.


Journal Entry 38 The Brambles

It seems my markings have not gone entirely unnoticed. A druidess of Talona has answered my call and left her own markings informing me that she is also alone and seeking a circle. She also tells of a group called The Guardians, whom she met, though they are not in good terms. That she follows Talona would be reason enough to be turned away from most druidic and elven holds, but still, she is a druidess. As always, I must try and bring into the fold nature's allies of all paths, and so I will attempt to reconcile our differences, though forming a circle with her may not be possible, as Mielikki herself opposes her. I will try to speak to the wind and see what I must do.


Journal Entry 44 Greatgaunt

I have now come to realize that this small village is quite a focus point for the powers surrounding it. There are two deadite holds within it's walls, one being the town's crypt and the other an old elvish home. Both are crawling with the creatures, the populace seems to treat them as sport, and may even be keeping them around as such. Nearby is another place, an old keep and it's surrounding lands, infested with powerful undead. The keep's fate seems simple, it's former inhabitants had taken to necromancy and transformed the place themselves. As if this was not enough, it has come to my attention that Greatgaunt allows necromancers to walk freely about, spewing their nonsensical religion on the local populace. There are powerful necromancers here. The whole place seems destined to fall to them, all the signs are there, it is quite clear. If the humans can't tend to their own garden let the whole place be put to the flames and the trees retake it's rightful place. I fear the politics here will likely make this very difficult, but if something is not done soon, this little hamlet, together with the deadite holds surrounding it, will become a vast wasteland and a kingdom for unnatural things. Nature here is at the brink of falling. I came here looking for a place where I could make a difference, but I fear even this little part of the world is too much for me to handle.

[marredwolf]

Journal Entry 51 Greatgaunt

There was a deadite attack on Greatgaunt. One of the creatures bore a message warning all to respect the undead. Such blasphemy spits in the face of nature. Respect for the dead is one thing, respect for the abomination that is undeath is another. It mocks both life and death and shatters the natural balance. The attack was over the desecration of a shrine, erected in the middle of town no less, right in front of the well-visited inn. This was no doubt a provocation. Necromancers are welcomed here, even revered, and so they seek to make it their home. Whatever response from the forces of good is likely to do little, I just don't think they have the will. Perhaps I could incite both sides to war, if only to nudge the humans into action, and have the whole of the necromongers wiped out while I stand and watch. This will require some thought on my part.


Journal Entry 58 The Brambles

I encountered Father Lysus, the priest of Ilmater, along the woods accompanied by three others. He invited me to join them en route to a nearby shrine to pay homage. I agreed. Along the way we encountered a large bear. I have reservations about the animals here, they are overly aggressive and I can never tell if one will attack me outright or leave in peace. I did what I thought was best and tried to tame the beast, but something went horribly wrong in our exchange and instead of befriending it turned its massive maws at the young woman with us, nearly devouring her before I was able to put the bear down with my blades. My misfortunes not over, she took offense at what I had done. I tried to explain but she would not have it, and one of her companions, a warrior by the looks of him, accused me of a cold kill, he not knowing the ways of nature to question a druid on such a thing. Through this conflict I heard that the woman claimed these woods as her own. It's apparent to me that she is the druidess of Talona that I've been seeking. A strange turn of events and one not likely to pass over easily. Perhaps she has joined a circle after all. If this is so, being a former outcast would likely make her want to admonish those she sees as not living up to her newly found standards, if only to reassure herself and others around her. Such is often the ways of outcasts once they are brought into the fold, and one cannot be blamed for behaving thusly. Still, my own status as such may prove useful. If the druids and elves here are so fond of secrecy and exclusiveness then someone would have to find and gather the strays of nature's allies, and that now seems to be me.


Journal Entry 62 Near Valkur's Roar

I have taken to following travelers in and out of Greatgaunt, as a wolf, so as to not be recognized. This has proven to be most useful as I can gather knowledge of people without having to deal with the cumbersomeness of conversation. Depending on the situation and the looks of the person, I might merely watch and see them to the next town, or I may join them in whatever they aim at. One such man seemed friendly on my approach, always a good sign, and I followed him for some time thru the Mistwoods as a companion. He seemed to like my presence, and even cheered my fighting prowess, but once thru the doors of an evil looking tower I had to turn and run, for the elementals residing there were too much for me. I waited outside to make sure he surfaced safely and then left limping. I'll seek out others, specially lone travelers on the road, and in this I shall do and learn much more than I could as an elf. I have little fear of being discovered, not even another druid could tell the difference, only a powerful sight spell could discern my true nature, and then only if I arouse suspicion.

[marredwolf]

Journal Entry 66 Greatgaunt

I had decided to storm a nearby cave filled with orcs on my own. At first it seemed hardly a challenge, but like goblins and kobolds, they eventually wore me down. This was not enough to stop me from slaying their current chief and their pitiful shamans, however, and walk out alive and well. Perhaps not all well, though I should be thankful for my life, for in the midst of collecting all their garbage to try and sell it for some coin in town, I was overwhelmed and while in the last battle to be fought I accidently dropped my bow. It wasn't until I emerged that I had taken notice, and I quickly re-entered the place and stormed it once again, quickly this time and without pause, but it was nowhere to be found. It was a gift and the last piece of home I still carried with me, but still, it was just a bow and I am still alive, though none the richer from orcish garbage.


Journal Entry 78 The King's Forest

I have entered the King's Forest as they call it, and the name is offensive to me, in the hopes of finding truth to the tales I heard of Treants nearby. The place is filled with orcs, strong and skilled ones, not like those found near Greatgaunt, and bandits and spiders and who knows what else. I have yet to enter a friendly forest in this mad kingdom. There are few animals around, likely being hunted to extermination to feed the hungry orc belly. I refrain from leaving any marks upon the woods here, after seeing the Malarite Druids and their gruesome rituals, for fear of attracting unwanted attention. These woods are in desperate need of attention, however, and I wonder where the thoughtful Druids have gone to. Perhaps they are in seclusion from all this madness, maybe their own borders are pressed. I have met one recently, a songbird from the mountains, and she told me a little of The Guardians, I believe she implies that there are Druids among them. I didn't press, nor will I make a call for help in what is likely their own woods. As I have been taught, I shall take up the task with the tools available to me, and keep my presence here hidden for now.


Journal Entry 81 Deadluck

I have travelled between Waymoot and Deadluck where I was told I would find the Treants, but all I've found are more orcs and bandits. Some of these I was able to dispatch with some effort, others, orcish veterans of considerable skill, made me turn tail and run. It wasn't until I stopped over at Waymoot to procure a new bow that I hit upon a lead. A joker by the name of James offered to show me a Treant that he knew put roots nearby. All the way back to Deadluck we went and right there in town, within the walls, stood the mighty oak. I must have walked right past him several times and not noticed, but such is to be expected of a Treant, though perhaps not a Druid. We spoke briefly, his story was not a surprise. He had been driven from his home by the orcish bands and taken refuge here. His grove was lost, he said, and the woods there burned. James informed me that the orcs are remnants of a failed invasion force sent against a place called Arabel. This kingdom is much too weak, and it's allies seem few. I've found my calling, it's here where I shall make camp, and pray in the grove of Mielikki for guidance, before I set out against the orcs. I will reclaim this lost grove, alone if I must, though it may take some time.

[marredwolf]

updated culture and beliefs

[marredwolf]

Journal Entry 102 At the farms of Espar

I've been asked to aid the farmers here with their troubles. This task does not sit well with me, but I will do as I'm told, if only to preserve the balance. Citytenders, farmers and townsfolk in general seem to care little for my ways, and I care little for theirs. Their more trivial problems I was able to solve rather quickly, with the aid of the local druid, a servant of a goddess that I had never heard of. The more troubling task will be to remove a nest of beetles. Their mother I've seen for myself, a hulking giant the size of a dragon and with a spit to match. I will procure some items and devise a plan, but I will do it alone. This will take me some time however.


Journal Entry 123 Deadluck at the standing stones

I've finished forging the blade. I call it Roarbark, after my old name. It will stand as my last light, the last breath of will that I have left. I've inscribe its name on one side in runes that only another druid can read, and the other in elvish with its calling so others can see. On the guard are the runes of my last words.
*roarbark the last remaining light
*light of the night then the morning comes
*death you come too late
If its found intact after my death, shatter this blade.


Journal Entry 124 In seclusion somewhere in the high mountains

It has been one year to the day since I was returned to Mielikki's graces. *words are written over or scratched out* I have finally decided to put this into these pages, in case I fall into darkness again *scratched* the truth may be known. *scratched words and a missing page* something empowered the orc malarites. Their priesthood led a bloody path thru the woods, looking to meet with their foes for a battle of light and dark. *scratched out* In their wake they took more creatures as slaves. And they knew where to strike. My old home is near a *scratched out words* they have been there a very long time and they take from us *scratched out* it was for them that they came, and we were simply a snack on the way *scratched out* A few were captured when the orcs came, the others escaped back into *scratched words* but not the rest of us. Most were killed to feed the beasts, others like myself were taken in to become beasts. Their black magic, governed by Malar's spirit, turned those who bore the mark into *written over and scratched out* were turned. It was so that we killed each other and fought to form packs, and once so, unleashed upon our enemies, the elves, the hins, the humans and any other around to watch *scratched words and a missing page* years until we *scratched out words* but it was only a part of Malar that it had chained for this purpose, and we were part of that part *written over words* this fight heralded *scratched out* once it was won in the other *scribbled over words* at this battle we were defeated, thank all that is good, and Mielikki, my tribe's matron mother, found me once again in the care of a large army of elves. They told me it was weeks for the *scratched out* and then more days until it stopped. They offered to heal my white eye and the meat on my face, but I told them mine was a fortunate fate. Those memories come and go, and I understand very little of what really transpired. I would rather forget the whole thing, and push back the faces of all those that I've killed.

[marredwolf]

Entry 178 Lost in between worlds


I have been chasing my shadow for many a day now. I have performed the Ritual of the Morning Star, after many years of failure it is done. I often think of the past, those people I knew in that little hamlet of Gaunt, even the more extravagant ones in the inner cities. I had some trouble with the local elves, but rumors among them spread of me and I quickly learned not to speak so much. And all I told them was the teachings of my ancestors, that we came from the fairy world as fairies into this world, and that Corellon, protector, is not our creator. I dont mean to imply my own faith is king, but only that it holds some truth. I was rightly warned by Boots that I should keep my mouth shut, again, and now I fully accept this needed condition.
This all became much worse since that incident with Dave. Oenemi knew exactly what doubts lay in my heart, even after rescuing his severed, burned and mutilated head from the yet unfinished judge of his fate, as she after asserted by asking me for it again so she could finish her turn. I stood there dangling his head over a precipice, amid threats from Butcher himself, trying to decide that mans fate myself. After receiving promises of protection for both of my friends, from Butcher and Mad Dorf Kronos himself, to my two elven friends I withdrew his head and went to return it back to his corpse, and hence he lives still. Which would you choose? Between a friend that you have faced countless enemies with or your race ?
The elves certainly don't like me now, even after my refusal to declare a testament against them, as they had broken the laws of Cormyr and where set to stand trial. But even worse I have lost friends that I have greatly sought. For months I have looked for another friendly presence in The Brambles, as I live there. And not long ago I spotted a young wolf in those woods, living there as I did, being in many places, always spotting the woods. At first she would approach as if I would strike, her senses not yet attuned but she quickly grew at ease and began trying to play with this old wolf dog. I would then merely keep my watch and walk the many trails, but I would readily lay my rump down to sleep by her once she finally settled down. I like staying close as such when there is another like me there, not just for myself, as I only settle near an ally even the meakest of one, but to watch over her, as if to make up for all the ones I failed. Little Risi, I did like her so, we walked the woods together, but she yelled at me after the head of Dave was returned and I have not seen her since. After explaining nature to me she would wisely say, as she had been taught by her ancestors:

You will see that people are not this way. It is the way of people to decrease those who need more than they have and increase those who have more than they need.

So true, what an ugly world, and to be naive and think ours could last against such ways, the Rule of Might. Might rule today, perhaps we should be mighty too...but being combative is not the usual recourse of the Druid which is what I learned after speeking to The Gardner and receiving his rejection of my goals.

My allies are few, still I hope to return. It seems as though I have nothing besides those tenuous alliances, as the shadows here loom large. And to them I now return..

Stare your shadowndown, remember to forget it's very name,your shame, because you can't make it right...

Pieces of this old ritual, and it has dragged me to many places. Im sure I've left Cormyr by now, these are strange woods to me, and more haunting then the damnable forests of that kingdom. The ritual has brought me to the edge of worlds, not a place for the uninitiated, nor even for the learned, for those voices that come from the ether strive hard to test and break the weak. But they say my blood is strong, and I do seem to be moving forward at times, tho one is never sure in this place. I hold on to simple truths, those that cannot be denied, even by the demons and the damned, and I repeat the very first verse of the poem that is the Ritual of The Morning Star:

The light of the night, then the morning comes...

[marredwolf]

Entry 188 high sun in the desert


The ritual, thru my shadow, has brought me to another dream, so called by the elders for many reasons, one of which is the state of the traveler. I have been mostly wolf, but I lumber thru like a blind dog. Always in one trance or another, not knowing if what I encountered was in this world, some other, or a dream from my own shadow. And always those barks and howls from hounds somewhere in pursuit of someone, perhaps me. This dream shows me the past, still alive in some world touching this one still, an old battle, one side fighting for survival the other to quench an eternal bloodlust. I wondered which side I was on, or perhaps I was already here, I couldn't tell, tho I hoped to be on the side of those poor villagers being slaughtered, the losing end of the blade. then I saw myself, or rather my shadow again, playing the part of a wild animal with fangs and claws and fur of so many I couldn't tell which. I killed many in a bloody victory,  and part of me grew sick.
I'm always on the move, but in other worlds I barely take a step and others shake you around like a a great river and then leaves you on the same shore you came. I travelled for days in a haze of three worlds at once taking steps forward and back all with one foot, always one step away from my goal, and one step behind me lay my complete failure and death. For all my efforts I never managed to find myself anywhere besides where I stood, and yet I took this as a victory. This is the oddest part of this voyage, the simple fact that I first embarked on mission of revelation, the myth of the self, only to now discover that I wish only to be the way I was once, and move forward from there. No matter the course I will certainly have to return to whence I came and see then where to go, as if this whole Ritual has been in vain. It has not, as it has taught me plenty, but yet this truth remains, that I must return, and I thirst for this now. 
A happy discovery was understanding how each time I attempted the Ritual of the Morning Star, and apparently failed until recently, I was still rewarded for my efforts, and this constant path due to merely attempting the Ritual since my first try, finally eroded the beast that I once was, hound of malar. The proof came at the end of today, before the forgotten night came, I fought my shadow once again. This time the fight occured at  once, in the span of a few seconds, and only then refought thru out the night, yet the battle seemed always in my favor after the first victory, after the darkest of things was summouned by me and then rapidly and assuredly put to rest.
I can't tell one world from the next anymore, unless I return to this form, but this form is weak, my hands shake feverishly from my weakness, I have eaten nothing for days and have only drank the dream water I find. I must stay alive and keep to this path, as wolf dog for it's strength. To live past this ritual would me a miracle, for one like me, and yet I have found hope, a light that I follow at night.

Hey you little star, wake me when it's over...

The Ritual again. The reminders of it's pieces arrives like a dream. It feels this way, as if lost somewhere, as if you would forget when you wake up. This shard I repeat sometimes to remind me of her, there in the horizon, waiting with good news.

The shade is a tool, a device, a savior, see I try and look up but my eyes burn...

More of it, a warning to those who come here expecting something other than the truth. Mornings, I can never remember them, I always wake up in some strange place, or wander in another world even at day time. All very draining, and I often wonder more if I can last this trip, then of my chance to reach it's end.

[marredwolf]

Entry 203 Outskirts of Cormyr

The first time I attempted this ritual I was in a cage, trying desperately to fight off a shaman's attempt to turn me into a beast. The orc did succeed, and with little resistance from me, for all my feeble tries. I was weak then. Now the ritual has showed me my true strength, but the beast remains. It's been attached to my spirit for a very long time, and now I will seek to starve it and break it or find some other way to submit it to my will. Only one of us can rule this being. For these final important steps I must walk as an animal in this world, and I will force the beast to walk with me. Only then will my spirit be able to reform itself. I don't know what my fate will be, my being can be taken over, my spirit torn asunder by the fight, my mind might give in to madness, or some other unforseen malady. I fear its deep rooted hold of me. Yet somehow I have hope, tho fleeting at times it remains. The blood of chiefs and shamans run thru my veins, but in the end, for all my strengths, it may just come down to something I have choice or control over. Goodness watch over me, I do pray often for this.

I've entered the friendlier woods of Cormyr once again. I will begin to walk this wolf-dream in the hopes that not much crosses my path, for I will not have much of a mind. I can't predict my behavior or level of aggression, anyone who nears me may find themselves in danger, and I could easily find myself in an equal amount of trouble. There is no other course, I must continue. Perhaps this is the last entry, if so, know that I tried, that may not be enough but it was all I could do.