Raven’s Log Entry
24th Blossom 801

We set to sea, intending to land on the unknown island between here and Puddleby. Heading southwest, we would be passing directly between Umbrion's Island and Ash Island. Ash island is inhabited by priests that create undead, and pirates that command them. These are the Darshak Pirates, and we chose to avoid them as much as possible. To the left of us, we spied heavy, gray storm clouds. These are the clouds that forever surround Umbrion's Island. Lightening flashed within the storm, and the waters around the island boiled with frightening creatures. We decided even more strongly to avoid this place. Apparently, it takes a great deal of sophisticated magic to even enter the place. (Of course, Stephen discovered a Gateway on Wanderland that lead directly to one of Umbrion's tower. Hopefully we will never have reason to use it.)

We spotted a sailing vessel, but after watching it for sometime, we noted that it was sailing away form us.

We looked into the waters, for they were behaving strangely. Perhaps water elementals? Unlike the crystal clear elemental that aided us in our shipwreck, these were colored of varying hues. Testing the waters, Jotork dipped his hand into the sea. He discovered an odd purplish pseudopod appearing to snatch the water back from his hand. Strange, and probably dangerous. None of us could identify it. Perhaps McGyver, but he was still unconscious.

Suddenly, the kayaks were attacked! Some sort of red viscous substance in the ocean raised our kayaks high into the air. We all managed to maintain our wits and composure, as well as our balance until we were set down again onto the surface of the sea.

We had no further mishaps as we continued passed the two dreaded isles. We left sight of them sometime after high noon. It seemed like forever. We saw a small island moving toward us; it was regularly shaped and bright orange. Some sort of giant turtle? It passed us without incident.

Finally, we spotted an island with rolling green hills. This was the unknown island that we were headed for. It looked peaceful and inviting. We set shore near sunset. We pulled the kayaks up on a shore that was clear and paralleled a green meadow. The hills were grassy and mostly free of forest except for a few scattered copses of trees. We tentatively looked about, and then as I neared one of the bushes, I heard a voice speaking in elvish. It bid us to leave. I spoke to it, informing it that we were merely weary travelers seeking a night’s rest, and that we would push on in the morning. I beseeched its hospitality. Then, a centaur stepped out in front of us into the evening sun. He was quite beautiful, and dangerous looking. He carried a hunting bow. Most of the party speaks elvish, all but BlackHawk (Melanie). Stephen (Skelly) stepped right up to speak with the centaur. After the centaur awaited the arrival of his hunting comrades, Stephen reassured them that we were friendly and needed little. His negotiating skills earned us a night’s stay on the beach with the offer of the centaurs’ protection. We were pleased with this outcome, tired of fighting for a night’s rest. We were instructed to not speak directly to any centaur, unless first spoken to by that centaur. This worried us slightly, and had us wondering, for initially when Stephen gave greeting, he also acknowledged a female, which resulted in a strange reaction.

The centaurs however, proved to be fairly friendly, and quite hospitable. A short time later, they arrived with two large haunches of venison. With hearty food and a campfire, we were soon in good spirits. Many of the centaurs stayed behind to watch us out of curiosity. Others were our guards, whose duty was to protect us, and to keep us from leaving the beach, as that was one of our conditions for staying.

An elder centaur spoke to us, telling us of the island and what he expected from us. We called him “Reverend Father”, as he said we would not be able to pronounce his name. We learned that the island is called “Kishtia” in elvish, “Centaur Island” in common.

Stephen feeling generous and having a need to give the centaurs something in return for their hospitality, decided to offer some music. He asked if I would like to accompany him with my drum, and I agreed. He began with a light ditty on his pipes, and I kept rhythm. Stephen is so remarkable as a player, I find it a challenge to keep up with him and remain relaxed enough to become part of the music. I hope to practice with him more. This evening was a good opportunity.

Stephen played, and the centaurs listened. They came closer, sitting in the light of the fire. More centaurs came over the hill. As the night wore on, and as Stephen played, the audience grew. Finally, at some point, Carlotta joined in with notes from her tin whistle, weaving through the melody. It was enchanting and mesmerizing as I was part of it. Stephen and Carlotta both have a magic of their own. It reminds me of my father’s magic. But theirs is so unique, and each their own.

Stephen, in Jotork’s body, still comes across as Stephen. It is odd to see him in the slightly smaller form, yet Jotork’s body still walks with a confidence, but his eyes now have Stephen’s daring, challenging look. I looked about our motley group as we played, wondering how the centaurs saw us. Did we look still confused and lost in these new bodies?

Lia’s body now stands ever at the ready, always balanced lightly on her feet, looking confident and ready to leap into action. Jotork seemed to take no time in redefining his physique, dismayed as he might have been by the choice. Though, I don’t think he could have been happier with any other body; he would have found the bulk of muscles a hindrance. Lia was at least light and nubile, closer to his own form.

Jaden in Stephen’s body is interesting. No, rather, Jaden’s reaction to himself in Stephen’s body is interesting. I see him look at himself in a reflection in the water, and sigh. Yes, he has carried his disappointment with him to the new body, but does he not know that his soul shines? He has a lack of confidence, but his desire to grow bursts forth as radiance.

BlackHawk in my body. I still find this a strange twist of fate. Did Coyote have anything to do with this? This seems to me a trick of the gods, one for their amusement. Ah, but there is always wisdom in Coyote’s humor. I hope to find it. BlackHawk has a tendency to hammer into place things that do not fit. He resorts to forcing answers rather than seek them. My body does not do so well with that approach. Will my body teach him differently?

And what am I to learn here? I have felt what it is to be male. Interesting. Powerful. Contemplative. Impatient. I am still exploring. It is exhausting however to always be here. I wonder if the others feel the same way.

However, whatever Umbrion has done to us, he does not know that he has made us brothers and sisters forever.

We were finally approached by some of the centaurs. One rather large and handsome centaur approached and offered us some kind of fermented drink. As I took a break, two giggling females questioned Melanie. I acted as interpreter, and finally they were called away by an adult. Eventually, an older centaur spoke with us. She had decorations about her neck and waist, leaves and feathers in her hair. We guessed that she was a shaman or priestess. We surmised correctly, as she bade us to refer to her as “WiseWoman”. When she first met us, she looked at us strangely, like she guessed our condition. Later, when we spoke with her at full length, we told her our story. She had insight to our problem, and could see the entanglement of our souls on the other planes. We asked for her help in “untangling” us. She had no doubt that the HorseMother (her goddess) could do so, but she felt that HorseMother would have no interest in helping outsiders. We were disappointed, but at least had a better understanding of our situation.

I found WiseWoman’s words to be enlightening. Why had I not thought of that before? I would pray to my gods, and ask for their help. As the evening wound down, I decided I would spend some time in prayer, and then get some sleep. I slipped away from the fire, to find a quiet dark spot on the beach near the water. I looked to the stars, searching the night sky for the constellations where my gods sometimes reside. I prayed and meditated. I asked for help with our souls. I asked for guidance, so that somehow I might see a way to correct us. After some time, I saw a shooting star. Ah, this was a good sign. It means that the gods have heard my prayers. Then I saw something else, following after the trail of the star had faded away. I could not make out what it was, as it was black on the nightsky, but it fluttered or flew. A bat? A crow? I think it was a bat. It flew to the south. I was confused, for I did not know what this meant. I decided it’s meaning would come to me later. In the meantime, I went back to the campsite. I chewed some herbs that would allow me to sleep well and would bring dreams. I had hoped that good dreams would bring further insight.

I slept well. Too well. For I discovered later when I awoke, that we had been visited by another unwelcome person. Apparently, as Stephen continued to play his pipes for the centaurs, a stillness came over the island. Not a centaur moved, and Stephen and those still awake felt suddenly alone on the island, though they could see the frozen forms of the centaurs. Stephen stopped playing as a lone person sat clapping and laughing near our fire. The stranger, amused with himself, seemed to have caused the stop of time. He was a young man with black hair and dressed in russet colored robes. Everyone immediately concluded that this had to be yet another of the ‘Brion brothers. Apparently there are three or four or five. Only two have stronghold islands. He rose from the log on which he sat, still laughing. He said something to the effect of “So this is the group?” He did not harm us in anyway (that we know of yet) and eventually walked off, releasing the frozen centaurs. The centaurs continued as though they knew not what happened. They were astonished and wary when Stephen told them what had transpired and about the stranger that had visited their isle.

Now in hindsight, I believe that the black form I saw flying in the darkness was this visitor. That we are being watched so worries me. I feel that we will be pulled into some confrontation with the ‘Brion brothers regardless of our intentions. I pray that we are not.

In the meantime, we head for our next stop, the island of Puddleby.

Raven Kenda Fox as Bran

Post Script:

I have not yet had a chance to mention to the others another occurrence this last evening. When I went off to find a place to meditate and pray, I had a vision. The image of Carlotta appeared before me yet again. I know this is no easy thing for her spirit to accomplish, so I was surprised, especially because I thought we had fulfilled her needs with the whistle and the shield. But apparently, we are not finished in our work. I spoke with her, and asked her if there was anything we could do for her. She seemed vague in her response. Then I asked her if there was something she sought. She responded most positively, and then she vanished. I was left wondering what it was that she seeks.

I had hoped that her shield would allow her soul to rest. But her spirit continues to accompany us with her tin whistle as her vessel. Obviously there is something else that she seeks to resolve. I hope that we can help her. The plight of her soul is very distressing to me. Perhaps if I can discover what gods she prayed to I can help her.

There is another thing. This is something that I can barely speak of, it is an abomination to me, but needless to say, it exists and it may play a role. Lia has spoken of an altar in a temple in Puddleby that has the capacity to resurrect the dead. She has presented this as a possible solution to the problem of the entanglement of our souls. She actually has suggested that we commit mass suicide and then be resurrected with the aid of this altar and its priests, allowing the gods to sort out our souls. To blithely manipulate the sacredness of life is repulsive to me. Nonetheless, this place and its priests exist, and the others may be considering its use. I do not know.

I wonder if this is something that Carlotta seeks. As I have said, I would not interfere with the sacred path of the soul; for if the soul is meant to be sent on, then so be it. But Carlotta’s soul is here; it has not gone on. I do not know why. Does she seek such a solution as resurrection? We would have to return to Turlough for her body. The Winged Foxes might consider this quest. I do not know how I feel about it.

I do know that I would like to find a way for this great lady to find her peace. I hope that I have better luck in the future understanding her attempts at communication.