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The Road To Thanandir
Journal 02 of the Fellowship Of The Crystal Tear
I have managed to learn little from the Elves whom which I've taken up travel with. I unfortunately am not quite fluent in speaking their tongue as I've never used it outside of lessons with Amael. It seems that we are under travel to the ruins of the old Elven capitol, Thanandir. I remember stories that Amael told me of the magics of that place. I'm quite suprised to hear that it was destroyed.

The people which I've met so far have met me with uncertainty and prejudice, it seems humans are not well liked. They continually associate me with people of the land of Sellador, no matter how insistant that I've never even visited that land. I suppose there is nothing I can do, as they somehow blame the humans for the coming of the dark god, Naresh. As if mortals could truly guide the hand of a god.

It amuses me that the Elves, whil long lived, seem to have no real sense of reality. The seem to exist in this perfect world, where the slightest change can have devastating effects. I believe I even heard one man heralding the rest of the people here, telling them that I was a portant of evil to come. At least I believe that's what he was saying, my mastery of their language definately does leave something to be desired.

It appears that I am also under suspicion of many here of murdering an elven maiden, theough I truly have no memory of such an instance. I know in my heart that I would never commit such un act unwarrented, so my mind is at least at peace in regards to this act.

Its strange though. The more I try and remember how I got here, the more certain I am that some time has actually past since my memory of being in the garden of Lahantwene. A few things lead me to this conclusion. First I began noticing several scars on my body that were not there prior, as if I had been fighting much more than I normally would. Some of those scars are look to be fairly old at this point, several years past at least.

Another thing that got me thinking was that in my mind, the memory of being in the garden feels like an old memory. Remembering is like remembering an incendent that happened in my childhood. I remember the important details of that day, but I cannot seem to remember the day itself; nor the before it. I'm beginning to think that there is literally a hole in my memory.

Perhaps time has past and I do not remember, or perhaps it is just the after effects of being hit on the head. I do have a large bump on my head, something recent. Maybe it is just an effect of being injured that will sibside in the next few days.

From the journal of Jacques

Contributor: Drew Butler