The Adventures of Feely the Sly

[Sinfael Vanmoriel]

<< This modest, red leather book sports no identifying features other than the gold filigree title emblazoned across the spine in Thalassian, which reads "The Adventures of Feely the Sly."

A small dedication lay penned across the inside of the back cover, written in a thick, untrained hand. The ink comprising it has faded with time, but the message is still legible:

To Feely,

So she can preserve the beautiful words that fall from her lips.

With love,
Murazzdi

Upon opening the book, it is apparent that the first 50 or so pages have been excised, leaving a small gap between the cover and the first visible entry. The passage begins... >>



Not even a week has passed since the Regiment laid its first General to rest and already my heartstrings are breaking.

Mesoni was a good leader with a strong heart and an unbreakable will. Even in death, he resisted the voice of the Lich King, choosing self sacrifice over the seductive power that the Scourge had to offer. He did the hard thing that we all dream about.

After our recent Regiment meeting in which I was instated as a new General, the Commander and I went with Advisor Toumar to scout out future meeting places.

Toumar departed early, but the Commander did not. And as we stood there, two women alone on the edge of a stormy beach, we spoke the things that we could say to few, but that pressed upon our thoughts most heavily.

I suppose my feelings for the General were not commonly known, but Erelle knew. And while I am honored that she respects the way I handled myself while Mesoni still lived, I cannot say that I do not wish that circumstances would have allowed something more... But if his death has wounded me thusly, I prefer not to imagine what the greater cost would have been had he known the truth.

Beside that, I am a creature of justice. Mesoni was a married man with a family which he cared for deeply. He loved them, and because of that I love them too, even today, and that is a bond which I vowed never to break.

Whatever Erelle may have said to me that night on the beach, whether in solace or in truth, I will continue to keep this silence. And more than anything, I wish to preserve the sanctity of the friendship which Mesoni and I once shared.

...It is all that I have left of him.

[Sinfael Vanmoriel]

Kathelyn has been sleeping well, I think. It is of some comfort to me that she no longer calls me mother, but in an odd way, I feel that I have lost something.

Lady Morn'thanal was so adamant that I take care of this child, but I have been so busy since the General's death that I have had little time in Silvermoon to dedicate to her well being.

But what does one do with an undead child? She needs no food, no sleep, and feels nothing in the way of physical pain. It still puzzles me that she asks for snacks or nap times, or sobs when she thinks she's been hurt, but I continue to indulge her when I can.

I suppose that she does it out of habit, or because she cannot accept the fact that she is no longer human.

Speaking of change, Lady Sibilya Morn'thanal has become a less than pleasant banshee. I may pretend that the loss of her "flesh" has not bothered me considerably.

I know that she was attacked while she still lived, and that her unborn fetus was killed in the attempt on her life. Her husband, Pyronij was devastated. I can only imagine what he is going through now.

But more importantly, I have yet to find out how Sib came to be this way. Something vile has happened, and if I can manage to get her to speak to me about something other than her obsession over the demon Zorto, I may be able to find out who did this and bring some closure to these events.

[Sinfael Vanmoriel]

It's been a while, hasn't it?

So much has happened that I don't know if I care to put it all down to record. Some of it good, some of it not.

Lady Morn'thanal is not the woman I used to know. Undeath has driven her mad with rage and already, the Horde has issued a reward for her capture. I can't say that the bounty isn't warranted--I've heard too many people clammoring in the streets in the wake of her homicidal sprees.

But what bothers me is that I am inclined to turn her in.

I keep reminding myself that this isn't the Sibilya I knew.

Either way, less recent events have offered a reprieve from these thoughts as I must attend to more pressing matters.

}-----{ O }-----{

Theran came to visit me in Silvermoon not long ago. He caught me in public, saw the bruises and the cuts on my body, and demanded that I go with him immediately. He actually accused me of being reckless and obstinate for first suggesting that we wait...

I won't disagree with him on the latter point, but contrary to his belief, I am not a reckless person.

I know that I'm sick. And I know that what is happening to me is dangerous, though dangerous to whom, I know not.

Regardless, I have a responsibility to the Regiment to ensure the safety of its soldiers, not just as a General, but as a friend. I would not have tarried in Silvermoon so long, had I not heard warning of Prince Sunstrider's return. And now that it has happened and the soldiers are prepared, I can attend to my personal affairs.

}-----{ O }-----{

So it is that I will be leaving for some time to find a cure to this plague. Kathelyn will be coming with me, as my ward, and Sael has kindly accepted my request to accompany us on this journey.

Theran will be leading the camp with his men, all of whom are well trained rangers. Unfortunately, they are a spartan group. And that's why I need Sael.

Sael doesn't know how far gone this thing is. But if something happens to me, I need someone to take care of Kathelyn. She deserves to have someone who can love her.

At the same time, I need to surround myself with people I care about and trust. Jazjandi tells me little about my ailment--she thinks it prudent to withhold information so that she can use what she knows as an "incentive" to make me join her and Theran on their journey--but I can tell in her letters that whatever it is, it is grave.

At the risk of sounding morbid, I think that I am dying.

}-----{ O }-----{

I have always loved Murazzdi, from the first day that I held him in my arms.

He was newly born then, unable to do much more than squeal and blink. I remember with clarity the bold sea-green color of his eyes and how soft his infantile skin was. I saw him then, and I think that part of me knew that he would be a man of greatness. He was a creature who held my utmost curiosity. And I loved him for the awe that he brought me.

It was many years before I saw him again, and when I did, he was resting on the cusp of the age of accountability; he was so full of life and questions. I too was in my youth, but it is different for elves, you know, and having the opportunity to watch him grow up, carefree and full of innocence... I found that loved him then too, as only a guardian might.

And when he came of age, we saw each other differently. We were equals then, despite my greater experiences. And I learned to love him in another way, more profoundly, as only two knowing and consenting beings might.

Then, because I was a coward, I let him die. In my carelessness, I forfeited his life to another's jealousy and rage. Life was dark then, but over time, my love for him has never dwindled. And eventually, I learned to replace it with apathy.

I don't know if I can learn to love him again.