Well, I’m back

Took an unpleasant tumble exploring an area of the upper city wall, and had to spend entirely too much time abed recovering. On top of that, it broke my KI, so I’m having to putter around rebuilding Nexus links and KI lists and such.  Inconvenient, but a good excuse to wander around and get some excercise.


Breathing Again

It is so WONDERFUL to see people in D’ni again! Everyone is so happy, and sounds of welcomes are echoing (*ahem*) off the walls.  I’ve been feeling oddly shy about greeting anyone. I’ve been so long alone, and I was becoming, well, a bit of a novelty before. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that again.

I wonder…if Julian knows. If he knows, will he come back? If he doesn’t is it because he’s hurt…or is it my fault? I left their company so suddenly, without telling him I was going. I wonder if he’s forgiven me.

Footfalls and Visions

The cacophany of the Bahro has been silent for many, many months.  Whatever Yeesha does to keep them at bay, it has been working.

In my wanderings, I reached the Great Shaft. Descent. And the Eder Tomahn. It did not ache as K’veer did.

Doctor Watson, of the DRC left his journal here. It is a sad thing, feeling of lost hope, lost dreams, and yet, at the end, there is a glimmer of light. He returned here, just before the Bahro came, bringing new thoughts… one of which I’d been having myself- That to be safe from the Bahro, humans must make a linking book. I wonder if that still stands, or if Yeesha’s efforts have made it moot.

Then again, given the nature of the Art, who would pass up the chance to travel to a world of their own imagining, if only they could write the book… Bahro or not, if the travelers have the tools, they will do.

And they have been doing. I know there must be others here, who did not leave, or who have slowly returned. A smattering, I assume, but I have seen no one.

Surrounded as I am by whispers and shadows and the subtle hint of voices, it did not startle me at all when yesterday I heard voices in the city, they seemed odd, but my mind was focused elsewhere, and I made no note of it. It was only after, relaxing in Tsoghal, that the oddity came clear to me. Those voices had not been speaking in D’ni!

Are many others coming? If they do, what of the Bahro? What of the spirit of this place?

How Strange…

My dear companion Julian has been writing accounts of our time together in D’ni. He has a quick wit, and an eye for details that I miss, lost in the stories. It is amusing and strange to see myself through his eyes.


A small earthquake rolled though D’ni today, enough to shift stones and rubble in K’veer, so I wiggled my way through an opening. Skinned knees and nose, I wandered the empty halls of K’veer.

I’ve been told that this place played a great role during the years leading to the Fall, and became a focal point during.  I’ve steadfastly resisted reading the fiction accounts of the Fall, so that what I hear is not coloured by what I expect.

K’veer is so, so sad. The place drips in sorrow. Not the encompasing, collective sorrow of the City, but an abiding, personal sorrow. The sound of the sorrow, the feel of it, changes from room to room, but it is there.

I found a room, debris on the floor, signs of a fire. The pain that was there brought me to my knees. Loss, such deep loss, like a heart torn asunder in an instant, yet tinged with love, and pride, joy, amazement.

What happened here?


My friends, I can not tell you how pleased I am to lear you will be returning to D’ni. It has been quiet here, with nothing but the stones of D’ni to speak to. And, although they do speak back to me, they are not clever conversationalists.

I have heard the whispers of others here, but I have yet to come in contact with any other explorer.

To celebrate, a story, of course!

V’tor was a Guildsman of the Surveyors, who sought for himself a bride. He searched through-out D’ni for just the right woman to share his long life with. In time, he had narrowed down his choice to two women. He gathered his friends together and asked, “I can not decide between the two, what would you advise?”

His friends said to him “Well, V’tor… Hara is a beautiful woman, but her family is poor. She is clever with her words, and thoughtful to those around her. Sh’inay, on the other hand, is also beautiful, but her family has great wealth, so she has not wanted for anything.”

V’tor, still torn between them, decided to spend one week in the company of each lady, to see which path Yahvo led him down.

His time with Hara was pleasant, spent reading great works of poetry, and long walks in moonlit ages. They spent much time talking of themselves, and the future.  He asked of her “What would you wish, if we were to be wed?” Hara replied “I ask nothing for myself, but that my family live comfortably for the rest of their days.”

He then spent a week with Sh’inay, who craved the bustle of the market, the richness of the Gallery, the elegance of the great performance hall. In each place, V’tor found himself lavishing gifts upon her. She said to him “Ah, V’tor, you are so clever and generous to know that if we were wed, I must live the life I am accustomed to!”

When the two weeks were done, V’tor gathered his friends together, where they witnessed his proposal to the maiden of his choice. It was no small supprise to them, that he lay down his heart at Sh’inay’s doorstep, and asked her to wed him.

V’tor’s friend Adri went to Hara’s home to comfort her, expecting to find her saddened by the news. Instead he found her smiling, and wishing them all joy.

“Why are you not upset?” he asked.

“Because, it was all foreordained by Yahvo. I knew I would not win him.”

Adri looked puzzled “How so, Hara?”

“Why Adri,” she smiled, “Everyone knows that to the V’tor goes the spoiled.”