The Thousandfold Notes of Alejandro Benjazar

[Don Nadie]

[This is an assortment of writings that, with some generosity, could be called a journal, a notebook or a collection. The pages are sheer havoc: some are cut, burnt or stained. There is an absolute lack of order. Notes for tales and translations often have strange marginallia with (usually terrible) rhymes and some attempts at drawing. Sometimes, it does seem the writer gets distracted halfway through the note-taking to write something else.

Amongst this chaos one may find a piece of order: transcriptions clearly written with a slightly more careful hand. While still adorned with unnecesary attempts at poetry  and notes on how the historical record could "more interesting" if it included "giants", "sorcery", "romance" or "a talking turtle", these seem to be at least legible.]

[Don Nadie]

First Days in Ephia's Well

The place is beautiful, after so much wandering... The people are kind, though maybe a bit too focused on making coin for their own good. Half the place seemed to be rushing to buy merchant licenses!

I began the telling of the Thousandfold Tale in the Well. It was so beautiful... After telling tales arround fires and camps, the Speakers Mound felt like the most glorious place on the Disc to speak...I also think I made a friend with D. Cherise. She came to my first telling of the Thousandfold Tale... She was the only one. That made me a bit nervous. It easier when you've got a crowd, because you can be sure /someone/ will like it. When there's only one person... Well. You either swim or sink! And I think I swam.

(I miss swimming. Going down the cliffs with friends, then climbing back up and laying beneath the olive trees to dry off. This place is beautiful, but there are no olives.)

D. Cherise said she liked it, and afterwards recited some lovely verses... Will include her in the Thousandfold Tale, I think... Though she didn't really say why she sang them. I think she must've lost someone. Many someones.

I guess we all have.

[Don Nadie]

Courier Work

I have done quite a bit of running, from one side of the Well to another. Lots of people seem to need packages delivered! While not the best job, it does have its perks. You get to walk arround, and meet all of these new folks, and discover all of these new places. I have gone up and down the Eagle's Mount, I have stopped to enjoy the fountain of the Palm's Heights and the smells of the Souk.

But the weirdest thing happened, just recently.

I was in the Souk, and a man asked me to deliver a package, and to not open it. He was a little greasy, but seemed trustworthy enough! So, when he told me to bring things to a place called "The Creep", I agreed. Too many things cost too much, and I like learning new places. Then, it turned out it was in the Gutters, which I had never seen. Then it turned out the Gutters were the underground tunnels, full of rats, strange glassy monsters and bandits.

Thankfully, Sr. Benji was with me. A local merchant and also a decent singer, he sort of had pushed himself into being my escort, and gotten payment for it. Now, I'm not complainig, because when we were assaulted by a bandit, he refused to let us get robbed! Admittedly, we mostly won the fight because I, terrified, used one of my illusions to stun him, but...

I don't know. I still don't get used to seeing a man dead. By hand, mine or my allies. I know it is fine, I know I must defend myself. I just wish I didn't have to.

*The narration is interrupted with the quick draft of a little jingle. Perhaps not terribly thought-through, but certainly sincere:*[/size]

Oh, like the knife just so sharp
on the lowly goat's neck,
who was no, never asked
to follow the next step,
as its forced to cut deep
and to cut down a life,
there's no choice to be had,
so I guess it's all fine...

I just wish I didn't have to.

So, I got the Creep, delivered the packages and got some coin for it. I thought the packages were spices for the Creep, because obviously they couldn't have as easy access in a tavern deep in the Gutters (no idea why someone would open a tavern there) Then, as we emerged... Sr. Benji explained to me that, apparently, I had delivered...

DRUGS?!

So I guess that's that for courier work, because I certainly don't want to meet more robbers OR to be delivering bad things...

[Don Nadie]

Candidate Junior Secretary (Maybe?)

I've been looking for work. Travelling with adventurers and warriors pays. So does the public, when I do a Telling. None, however, pay enough for the price of all the songs and the expenses of living in the Well. And that is before I can even consider becoming Voiced!

So, when a woman called Jamileh declared in a Sending that her archeological company, "The Competition" needed a secretary to help transcribe I thought: why not? I mean, I can write! Plus, an archeological company means old things, which means old stories, which means more materials for the Thousandfold Tale! So I offered my services.

D. Jamileh adviced me to hide these notes within my other papers, notes for stories and other "silly things", she said. We do not entirely agree on what to do with what is discovered, but... I can see her point.

Caliphs, emirs and kings are rarely the heroes of tales. There's danger is seeking to understand what is forbidden, just in case it turns out to be forbidden for no reason other than threatening those in power...[/size]

[Don Nadie]

Worms and Roses

So, I helped defeat some evil djinni summoners in the First Wheel. I don't want to sound whinny, but djinnis are, in fact, extremely scary and creepy.  And I still feel so uncertain, waddling in battle, dashing back and forth, and trying to hit something and not be hit... It's stressful!  I much prefer it when I need to stand at the back, where it is /relatively/ safe.

Still, we won, and I practiced a little.

The curious thing was that, as we were using magic to dispel whatever was summoning the djinni, the woman next to me whispered asking "The Wyrm" for power. Now, I'm not an expert, but I think the Wyrm is a bad god. But then, the woman seemed normal?

So when we returned and she praised by fighting and asked for a chat, I obliged. I mean, she hasn't been murdery, and also, mama always sayssaid I should be courteous to people.

"Please and thank you are the cheapest ways to help others with their day", she used to say. I miss her.

Anyways, the woman talked to me in the Krak. Told me a tale of how she was once captured by gnolls, her whole town razed, her to be eaten or worse... And a big giant Worm came out of the ground and ate the gnolls! She said that's what she worships. She also said that the Worm loved strength and that It had liked me. Then she put a rose on my chest.

I said thank you very much but I follow Warad. But thanks!

After our talk, I went to hear the Balladeers. They were drinking, sharing old tales. I had heard it before, in rumors, softly... But these veterans, how they spoke, stepped deep in memory and wine, of their loss... It was sad. The talked of how the Cinquefoil Rose risked it all, how they died, so many. How so many drowned, in the very Plaza, when the waters returned... And how the Janissaries took the victory for the caliph.

"The story hasn't ended yet", one said. I guess it hasn't.

And then, wordless, the Grandmaster emerged. She said nothing. She just took a rose and went to the Plaza. The Balladeers, the Sisters, the Banda did the same. Slowly, they walked out, a rose in their hands. And out there, the Grandmaster, an old actress, dropped the rose, for a year had passed yet again, since many lost their lives to make this refuge possible.

I added my rose. So did many. While the Janissaries watched, worriedly, roses piled up before the Pyramid.

The story, I suppose, is yet to be told.

[Don Nadie]

Junior Secretary (Definitely!)

I delivered my transcription and got finally hired. Not sure if its because d. Jamileh appreciated my work or because she's just too overwhelmed to say no by her backlog, but I won't look a gift goat in the mouth! Working with The Competition is giving me a great chance to learn about ancient histories, and it's good to work with someone who values the truth.

(D. Jamileh and I definitely have a bit of different ideas of what truth can be - her definition being much much more exclusive than mine! There's truth in the record, yes, but there is also truth in a fictious re-telling!)

The Competition has some curious people (a lot of them). Seems like a few Izdu and Warad priests even, which makes sense. I've mostly ventured with d. Jamileh and the sras. Mari, Sana and Pirouette. Sra. Mari is real strong, but also a bit scary (I've seen her break a lot of necks with her bare hands - yikes!). Sra. Pirouette is great at magic, and quite kind! And sra. Sana is very talented, but she calls me "Other Bard" which feels a bit dismissive, but then again, maybe she's insecure? Maybe she needs that to not feel bad about herself!

Anyways, it's a nice little group to go with. We did a small expedition to the Rust Dunes and saw some strange machines in the caverns. It was /extremely/ creepy, so much so that both I and d. Jamileh forgot to take notes? I'll need to return soon... And I'll also need to learn how the heck to copy d. Jamileh's classification system which I'm sure is real smart but also a mess...

[Don Nadie]

Leaps of Fancy

Working for d. Jamileh is great. We did an excavation into a strange water-logged place with the writings of an ancient traveller! And there were statues, too!

It was real fascinating, even if none was /terribly/ interested in my theory of the Sisters being somehow related to what the traveller described as women who imbibe strange wines and stay in mystical contemplation. I think it has merit! Maybe some local plant the sisters discovered, which was already used in Orentid times?

I'll admit it: these theories are not /extremely/ based on /a lot/ of evidence. But taking a big leap can actually help us reach further! And I mean, it's not as though I'm saying it /has/ to be true! Just that it could be!

I think that while something cannot be demonstrated, if two things seem to be related, even if they aren't, it means they may have something subjacent in common! Like how the metaphor of life and time as a river is common in places that have nothing to do with each other because it is, simply put, very appropriate.

Sometimes its not about historical facts, but about facts about the nature of people. I think, at least. So, what is there in this Well that led both the Orentid women and the Sisters to mystical contemplation via drink? That's not a worthless question!

[A smaller note]

D. Jamileh also talked of the person spying on them. It's scary! Need to -er- figure out what's happening there, and who are behind the threats...

[Don Nadie]

Dinari, dinari, dinari

Making coin is tricky. Specially when your boss mostly pays you in exposure and access to really fascinating and maybe only an itty bit heretical texts. So I'm always struggling for coin, because the songs of the Sha'ir are expensive, and maybe I also should work towards getting a nice Voice?

Storytelling does get some coin, but it is difficult to write a good tale, and to prepare for a great performance. So, I've decided to offer some services writing to improve people's reputation. It isn't glamorous, but writing jingles can be fun, and I'm good with crowds so... Why not? The Torchbearers hired me because some newspaper is giving them real bad publicity... And I can help! Maybe I can even figure out why the newspaper hates them... Put to some use all I learned trying to sneak into the granary at night!

For now, I started working in a jingle for the Torchbearers...[/size]

OOOOOOOOHHHHHH...!
When you're lost (just so lost!)
And don't know were to go
when the dunes  (just so lost!)
are making you too slow...

SEEEEEEK Torchbearers!

They will find you the path
with their keen seeking eyes!
Evading monster's wrath
you won't be food for flies!

SEEEEEEK Torchbearers!

And when you're safe and sound
in our dear Ephia's Well
you will see many arround
their torch took out of hell!

SEEEEEEK Torchbearers!

So never doubt it (No!)
When you need a good guide,
Find yoursel orange cloaks
and be safe in your stride!

THEEEEEE Torchbearers!

Hopefully they'll like it!

[Don Nadie]

The Leagues

I don't know what I think of the Well's government. It's all a bit too big, in comparison to what I'm used to.

Back home? We were too few, most crimes were very petty because there's only so much you can do when the biggest "wealth" is one goat more than your neighbour and when everyone needs everyone else to survive. So, it was all about talking and, in cases of really bitter rivalries, the mediation of the old women. And with really foul crimes, exile was enough.

Here there are riches and properties, and people who want to keep what they've worked for (or stolen, or inherited). There are laws to protect them. There are also laws to protect refugees from abuse. There are laws against necromancy and brookering, because those are things that can perfectly happen here. There's just always a lot going on.

I definitely don't like that you have to pay to become a citizen and have a say in the Laws. It feels like cheating: those who cannot earn money without help don't get a voice, so they don't get the help they need. On the other hand, it certainly is better than just being under the thumb of a Sultan's choices. I'm mostly familiar with Sultans and Kings through stories, but it does /not/ seems like they are reliable...

People divide themselves in three big camps, when it comes to politics, allying for clout and power...

The League of Purple are sort of the sultan's bootlickersvery dedicated followers (it's bad to be mean). They just think its great to have a Sultan. Heck, I think if it was up to them there'd be no democracy at all! Considering this is the same Sultan who betrayed the Cinquefoil, I think its a very silly position.

The League of Gold are mostly merchants. They think we should all be independent from the Sultan, but mostly so that they, the richest, would have more control and more power. They have tried to raise the price of a Voice, for example, and seem prone to disenfranchising others to concentrate power on themselves.

And the League of White is, in theory, most dedicated to the masses. They supposedly want to protect the refugees, and to give everyone a Voice regardless of wealth. And that sounds great! Complicated, but great! But there's the fact that a lot of their Legates seem to be a bit... Shifty. Some say that they use the League's good reputation to hide illegal or just extremely inmoral behaviour. I don't know. Maybe.

D. Jamileh says the whole system is corrupt, and doesn't want to participate in it. And maybe she's right. I honestly don't know... I mean, sure, it is not perfect, but trials are better than Janissaries just killing whomever they wanted, no? I think, at least...

Things were easier back home. That's for sure.

[Don Nadie]

Climbing the Mountains

The Competition joined the Torchbearers and, led by s. White and a few others, we went climbing the mountains of the Ayyabas. It was... A bit secret, and very interesting. Less dangerous than I thought. More mysterious.

I dont know how to write the experience. I guess, it was technically boring. We climbed. We saw a few ruins. We talked. We couldn't climb any higher. We returned to the City.

But that wouldn't describe the strange silence. The presence that watched us (benign? unkind?). The way the clouds didn't move like elsewhere. The  strange fortress, with an architecture that didn't fit the climate, nor the style of any other local civilization. It wouldn't describe what's at the top, which we didn't see, but which some of the others described. S. Hayes had even painted it, though I prefer not to see it, so that someday I'd be able to stare in awe at the construction.

It was a trip in which nothing happened, but a lot was felt.

The stars do not glow
as elsewhere they shined.
The clouds high above,
are static and lined
with mysteries deep
by strange hand bestowed,
know not who built this
why they climbed this road.

I know just one thing:
I came from so low...
I've dared all the cliffs
an old world did sow,
and seen all your works
I know what I owe:
I've climbed to your home
and now I must bow.

[Don Nadie]

Research Woes

I'm concerned about all we're discovering. I'm worried something bad will happen to d. Jamileh. We did one excavation in the quarry, an discovered one really interesting granary. Which in itself wasn't that important but inside there were these tablets... And the tablets held an account that was...

[There is a pause in the writing, something has been scratched with a big blotch of black ink]

That was fine and normal! Taxation! Buh, so boring! But a tale occurred to me:

Maybe once there were a woman and a man.
And, in their homestead... They'd need no grain for their bread.
For they drank deep and saw things.
Women of Orentes's court in mystical meditation.
Sisters, sipping their wine.


[The tale seems to have been edited several times. Large splotches of black ink stain some lines, so that only a few notes remain. No doubt, Alejandro has spent many an hour shedding more and more of this, as though... Fearful?]

Needs work!

[Don Nadie]

Dwarvenkind and Agaslakku

Since d. Jamileh and the others of the Competition are usually more than the 5 it is safe to travel with, I've started adventuring a lot with s. Snorri, a dwarf. It got me thinking about all the different people I've gotten to know, all the races and ways of speaking and cultures I'm experiencing...

I remember when I was little, everyone was just like me. I can only think of seeing someone different once, an Ashfolk captain in a sailing ship, and how I and the other kids followed him, hiding when he turned to look at us as though his gaze would turn us to stone. Someone said that an Ashfolk's spit would turn you bald. It's... When I think about it now, I feel both warmed by how childishly innocent we were... And a little bit embarrased at  our ignorance.

Apparently, not every place was like the Well, and some of the refugees carry prejudices worse than the ones we had. The Torchbearers told me one Banda Rossa, for example, called elves "tree monkeys" and talked cheerfully about cutting them. As though they weren't people. I can't begin to imagine what that kind of feeling is like... Being looked at like that.

Anyways, s. Snorri... He is a sturdy man, loyal to a fault and very proud. He also also protective, and really kind. He's been teaching me a thing or two about being in the frontlines. Of course, I'm never going to be as good a fighter as him, but if I can be resourceful when we're in a pickle... That's not nothing.

Plus, he likes my songs.

And he tells interesting tales. For instance, he told me:

The Thousand Clans follow The Murderer, which is the name given to Agaslakku by the dwarves.
For it was partly to satisfy Him that the orcan attacked the dwarves of Kulkund, with the aid of the treacherous deep dwarves.
And His priests must kill to raise in rank:
A single man to be inducted in the priesthood.
And more, and more, as one raises in rank.
So that their higher priests have their hands covered in blood of those they've murdered, alone.

Which was interesting. It did... Fit with what a wandering Agasian called Cyressa told me once, in the Speaker's Mound:

That their lodges are everywhere.
That they are nowhere heralded or celebrated.
That theirs is a wild, secret faith, recorded only in the Book of Strife.
That they all know the pain of the breaking of the axe.

But she added: For there is no greater pain than to break things.

So I wonder if s. Snorri is right but also... If there's something more to their faith. If they consider and accept that murder is "the breaking of things" and is necessary.

I myself break things. Often. With Snorri, for instance, we've broken orcan and deep dwarves a few times. And perhaps Agasians (perhaps even the orcs we fell) are more at peace with it than either of us.

[Don Nadie]

Bard for Hire

I'm getting paid to write jingles more and more often! It seems a bit silly, but I guess it makes sense: people need something quick and catchy to help their reputations, and I can certainly provide a good performance. My last job was a bit of a stroke of luck: I happened into a contest of gladiators right before the final confrontation. Since they needed some entertainment, I told the Tale of Why the Camel Cries, a little classic. It was well received, and after the contest was won, a friend of the winner paid me 400 dinari to write a song celebrating the winner: Atreus Loukanis.

I think I did a decent enough job:

Atreus! Atreus! /
Sharp blade of the sand!
Those who stand against you
do not understand!
For they've never dared
a blade, oh, so grand!
They're bound to their deaths
if they don't disband!

Atreus! Atreus!
You peerlessly strong!
You faced endless meleks
and held them for long!
When vile goblins gathered
for their foulest throng,
by thousands you cut them,
put end to their wrong!

Atreus! Atreus!
Gladiator unmatched!
Astute axe-wielders
were easily dispatched!
Ink-magics you faced,
its wielder fast dashed!
Resourceful, you caught him,
and then he was trashed!

Atreus! Atreus!
Your quests do we trail!
For against all odds,
you always prevail!
Your enemies know
they shall always fail,
that's why the Well
all knows your tale!

I performed it a couple of times at the Krak, adding some dramatic scenic trics to make it more thrilling. People like it! I think s. Brudon will want to hire me again. And, most important, s. Atreus was really happy about it (even if I had to correct his name because I initially called him "Atreus Loukans". It's not my fault Loukanis is more difficult to rhyme!)

[Don Nadie]

The Contest of Cosmoetry

I participated in a contest of poetry organized by s. Laremy. He is a priest of Izdu, and one of my favourite priests. He has a great sense of drama, always with that lantern of his which he dangles mysteriously for almost any and all comments! And with those Sendings he makes, where even going off to herd some goats is presented as a glorious chance written in the very skies.

The Contest started with a bit of trouble. He arrived late, and elected the Plaza as the stage, which was a terrible idea considering how much people pass constantly. Plus, someone was sick, which caused an entire little plague as people began to feel bad. Terrible! Thankfully, doctors worked their way and, after some advice from me, s. Laremy declared that the stars declared that the Krak was more appropriate! Good on the Cosmos!

The Contest was very interesting: participants had to wield a latern and to write poems about the Stars which also praised Izdu. I wrote a fun jingle, which I performed very dramatically, starting all sad and then going more and more cheery:

[What follows is a song with notes indicating how to play it with a mandolin. The rhythm starts ominous and suddenly shifts into ever-increasing, possibly obnoxious cheerfulness. Stage notes include "look all sad, covered in cloak", "reveal lantern, smile to the public", "dancing back and forth" and "smile, smile smile!". A bard reading such notes may detect the kind of energy usually posessed by youth pastors of Izdu, trying to teach children that the stars are as cool as gladiators.]

Such a fright in the night
when the darkness takes hold...
Even knight would take flight,
so I shiver with cold.

Trembling the cost of frost,
in such shadows embroiled...
I'm so lost... Just like most...
With my hopes all but foiled...

Not so fast! What's been cast?
On the sky does it shine?
What I asked for has passed,
the guidance is now mine!

There's egress to this mess
in Izdu's kindly skies!
What a bless! No more guess
of some black empty lies!

Such's the sign, clear like twine
from one star to the next!
Calculate sine and line:
he's left us such clear text!
   
Now rejoice in his voice,
in the firmament bright:
Izdu's choice was not noise
but the language of light!

There was a lot of variety. A Stonefolk joining last told a good and slow anthem. S. Mari told us a cute little poem not about the stars but about the space between them, which daringly praised Gellema rather than Izdu. Another man offered a very dramatic take on stars as Emperors and used fire elementals to give an eery light. A Nazarim called "Esti" wrote  a very serious, very stern poem about the relationship between math and stars. And a dashing elven swordsman wrote about not so much stars as [an akward stain, presumably from an akward pause] love. It was hotvery interesting.

In the end s. Laremy made us vote, each of us for one of our rivals. The math poem and mine got the same number of votes (2!) so we decided to leave it to "fate" and the flip of a coin. S. Esti won then, earning the price of a Voice! Good on her!

I'm a bit dissapointed (I'm saving for a Voice myself, and it would've been good to suddenly have all my savings for songs) but happy: it was a night of great fun! And I loved how much variety of takes there was on the same topic. It shows how fun poetry can be, bringing out all those many different ideas!

That said, s. Sana complained to me afterwards that the poem used too much rhyme. Which surprised me, because I thought it was obvious that my jingle had very strict rhymes to replicate the idea of things "written beforehand in the stars" (a rhyme scheme, after all, sets the "life" of the poem long before it "happens"). I thought it was appropriate, but if a bardess like s. Sana didn't pick up on it... Maybe nobody did?

Well, it was fun still!

[Don Nadie]

The Death of a Friend

[This entry is written with shaky calligraphy, stained with tears at some parts. There's a song, too, and some notes for a melancholic melody.]

Justin is death, and everything is worse for it. He apparently just... Transformed. Grew hideous wings. S. Koukol went mad with pain and attacked a Banda Rossa just as they took him to the Astrologist's tower. The Nadiri tried to heal him but discovered he was cursed. Snorri was with him. Apparently, Justin chose to die rather than transform or be exiled.

S. Koukol grabbed the body, to bury. She didn't want anyone with her, but she let me go along. It was for the best. If I hadn't been there, she might never have buried him. We carried the body, washed him. Then, we set up a pyre to burn him. She made a small figurine. I sand a song. A stupid song like an open wound.

And still, dumb as it is, it's the only thing that kept me from crying. The only thing that gave me the strength to convince S. Koukol to burn him... To stand up and start moving forward...

The last time I saw you
your smile was so bright.
Tell me, my friend,
where is your light?

As I saw you then leave,
not knowing you were gone,
I just thought: there he marches
my friend for so long.

You were flying freely
soaring over us all,
you were always so cheerful,
as though you'd never fall.

The last time I saw you,
you were happy and true.
Tell me my friend,
did you already knew?

Did you already knew?
Did you already knew?
That death comes some sudden,
Just out of the blue?

Just out of the blue...
Just out of the blue...
Tell me, Justin,
did you already knew?

[The next part of the entry seems to have been added a while later.]

I saw him at the market.

I said: "Looking handsome!", he said: "That makes two of us".

I can't believe the last thing we said to each other was /that/.