FE Journal: Kira

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The Journal

After the many days of awakening I have finally managed to control my thoughts and my charred hands. At last, I can feel the freedom of displaying my progress within the confines of paper - the ability to create an item that may be seen for many my times.

This journal marks the progressions of my being. The physical entity, as well as the inks herein, for this writing was collecting on 1 primary 126 and as such my writing shall begin on this date.

Day: 126

For the last few days I have trodden what appears to be a broken and shattered once-civilization, a ruins and wasteland that is a mockery of a grander time. I had awoken here - or perhaps I was born here, I do not recall - and I am scared. I do not know who I am or what I am. I understand the objects for which I relay many of my primary instructions to be hands and I understand what the world should appear as, but that world is neither here nor now.

Through this wasteland I've been between the verge of death and the horizon of life. It has been difficult to calm my hunger and quench my thirst, but I make due. Fortunately, though strangely, water rests where I remember it rests in the same holds I recall it to rest in. Nevertheless, my fickle memory has been driving me to health.

Perhaps the most significant update I can provide for today is the discovery of the ability to write once more. And alas to sweet words do pour. After this, I shall update this journal by petal-a-petal until I realize I am in the company of a scarlet bird. For I know that is how it should be.

Day: 160

For the last seventeen róátú I have traveled and seen much - with many eyes sharing upon their vision myself. The first settlement I came across took it upon themselves to bring their hate and frustration upon me. After having my flesh opened to steel and made to form a passing of blood, I have decided to recreate what I am.

With a reflection of my visage I have realized what I should appear like and what then it was just shouldn't be. My torn and seared flesh is just wrong. I should have hair. My eyes shouldn't be blackened. I should not be covered in plated rags. I should be shorter. I shall be what I see. I must have control.

With this in my mind, I have decided that I must be remade to what I know to be correct. I have decided to scour for remnants of magic and metal - these are the pieces that will restructure me. Perhaps this will also lead me to a scarlet bird. And so I continue my travels.

Day: 194

I must update on a most significant note. I have found a recently passed wanderer with the most beautiful eyes, perfect eyes, my eyes. Unfortunately, no other piece of their fallen form matched - only eyes. So began the process.

I had finally setup a process to remove the eyes of my own. Surprisingly, it is quite simple. First, I need a catalyst of magic - wrapped in admixture of CV-01, pressed to process to the furthest back of the socket; wrapping upon the eyes to get there. At this point, an upwards jerk of arcane energy embedded within can sever the optical nerve cleanly. The admixture must quickly be activated in order to keep any flesh from dying.

Once the eyes are removed, the rest must be performed blind. The desired eyes should be merged with the structure of the removed eyes, the removed eyes healing the decrepit portions of the new eyes. Another batch of curative admixture can handle most of this with an activation method favoring the new eyes and bit of necromantic reprocessing of energy entwined with the old. A full 255 ticks should be given in time.

From here, the new eyes only need to be inserted in the emptied sockets. The leftover admixture in the back of the sockets can then quickly join them.

Ah, but what is so interesting of this process for me was the sudden euphoria experienced immediately after the removal of my own eyes. I suspect it was connected to the brisk high that I had assumed would come from admixture leaking towards the brain, but it was quite different than what I had planned. Instead it felt much more closely related to finally losing the one twisted petal of an otherwise beautiful flower. A correction towards perfection. A most sincere lift of glory and hope in favor of the vanity of precision.

Even more interesting was the moments after the new eyes were placed in. It was like I had awoken anew. I could see where my hand should be and I placed it there. I have realized my knack of knowing the correct path before; this however, was much more quick. On the spot. It is like envisioning a clear memory of the yesterday but into tomorrow. So clear.

I am wasting time however and must continue this journey before blood trickles from the bird's egg.

Day: 228

I have found another soon piece of my form. Approximately 8 days ago, I happened upon a small gathering tribe. The tribe itself was broken, ravaged from the wasteland, and for the most part... insignificant. However, the leader of this tribe was perfect. Stunning. She had managed to preserve herself and her flawless skin when the apparent Armageddon occurred. The flesh was just absolute and desirable.

I brought it upon myself to enter the tribe and speak to her directly. To my surprise, the tribe accepted me quickly. They spoken that, though my form was twisted, that it was only within eyes you could find trust in these wastes and that in mine they saw that I was truly kind. The woman herself was even more open. To her, she saw in me someone she apparently knew. Of course, of her - I saw myself.

I was quickly accepted as part of this tribe. I have been traveling with them for the rest of these past 8 days. I have been taught many of the customs from their old habitats. Many a useless craft. I have even found that I rather favor the presence of some company to even my own surprise. I am unsure why I had not expected this. I do, perhaps, need more completion. I shall not be joining this tribe for long.

Day: 262

These last seventeen róátú have been interesting. I have finally left the tribe. However, it wasn't until significantly after the passing that I had managed to actually complete a little more of myself for some complications had arisen.

Not long after my last update, I had managed to make a pact with the tribe leader. When either of us passed then the other was to make a proper grave for the body. The prospects of this were quite interesting to me. I knew that I was not going to die at any soon place - it could not be, that would be incorrect - and that I was to have her flesh; thus, logically it would seem that this was the correct path to her death and thus my continued completion.

To my expectations, that time had came faster than what I was expecting. While traveling through a small passage between two cliffs, we were ambushed from both fronts by savages. Bottlenecked and flanked, we were forced to fight. Quickly, the tide was turned and we had overcome the group who decided they would best us. During the fighting however, the tribe leader had fallen. She was beaten down and had a knife driven into her skull. The blade itself skirted the cuneate fasciculus and even there not damaging enough to kill her. Though, neglect of my curing of the wound soon would.

With her body in tow, and quickly leaving the rest of the group, I had realized something both wonderful and terrible. Her body was the perfect height. The height I had measured in my fore-memory in the days long passed. My height however, was not perfect. I must restructure my internal mortal machine and with haste. I coated her body in an admixture set to preserve it and set off.

Within only a couple days of travel, I came across the crumbling ruins of an old city. I expect, built before the Armageddon. Within the confines of the marvelous rising structures at this locale I had found more of what I was seeking. Within the underground passage of one of the buildings rested a well preserved machining shop. With the pieces within this place I started to design the next thing I needed.

After a few more days I had completed the operations to readjust my height. I infused various releases and pulls, removed portions of bone, and healed over each portion. I coated my basic under-structure with various alloys and created a series of switches controlled by the muscular structure near the mid point of my spine - now covered by an adjusting plate.

Once this was finished, then began the process of removing my subject's skin. With review, I had realized that her hands were not the hands I needed. Also, in good fortune due to the wound, her scalp was also unneeded. From these points, I began to peel. I stretched the flesh and quickly let it sink back to its original form in order to better remove it from the body. After completion, removing my own flesh was much more simple. The majority of it could just be, after all, tossed away. With another process that was much like the reverse of the first, I had formed the new flesh over my body. Another day of work gave it the correct fit. Certain glands will, unfortunately, need to grow into their new confines.

Shortly after deciding that the skin was to standards, I had realized that there was something else I must do. I had given a promise and so I acted to complete that promise. With a bit of sifting through the streets of the city I managed to find a location that seemed of an old burial ground. This is where I left the carved body to rest - to reflect the good in my eyes and flesh.

Day: 296

Over the course of the last few róátú, I have met another kinder aspect to civilization. I have now dealt with many traders who have taken an interest in my collections. In exchange for my work with various contraptions, I have been offered knowledge and sanctuary.

Here, I would like to note that trade leads to many benefits. It seems that when the exchange becomes that of services instead of just goods, that the majority of those involved develop a mental attachment to any being that was a part of that service in the assumption that they interacted with that person. This attachment is significant. It appears their tendencies towards hostility is reduced - reducing the probability of my own self being damaged by one of these peoples - and they declare items they own to be valued far less when dealing with them. The major service they desire from me is that of my eclectic memory, specifically when focused towards the future. They are illogical, but I can use this.

For the various articles of knowledge I have gained about the world here, I would like to make a few specific notes.

The first is that of metal. Base metal can be separated from an alloy quite simply by reducing the entirety to into a molten liquid and then matching each element's charge by alternating various currents through arcane manners. The control given by dancing electricity through the hands rather than a machine is incomparable. However, to expand upon this basic technique I would like to note of a much more interesting discovery. If one charges both hands and divides the current between the abductor pollicis brevis and an abductor digiti minimi, preferably by one controlling a center finger if available, in one hand to the abductor pollicis brevis in the other, then a established electric pull of three different currents in simultaneity can be achieved. This allows the possibility to mix and bend alloys during the molten liquid state.

The second note is that of gods. It seems that many beings - most of them rather narrow sighted - have been born with, or have otherwise managed to obtain, a state of biological immortality through seemingly arcane means. This appears to tap into a form of magic the involves connection through a mass of people - possibly by draining an inherent passive energy from these people. The exact method used to obtain this power is questionable and appears to be so ingrained to their forms as to not always give these beings who call themselves gods the knowledge of how exactly they obtained this state. The realization of extended life has provided an interesting mindset to me. I desire to reach a state of perfection yet carry no goal of what to perform after wards. It seems logical that, perhaps, I should seek the mechanics behind the immortality of a god and strive for this in order to best preserve my own eventual perfection.

Other than these notes, I end this entry on a much less accomplished note than the other recent entries in that in this cycle I have yet to find another piece. Fortunately, my skin is causing others to be more giving towards me.

Day: 330

It appears that I have performed a terrible miscalculation. While utilizing the charged alloy method I have previously described, an arc of electrical energy moved from the controlling hand to the pressing hand and destroyed the natural electrical impulses that control the base of the muscle. This has denied the use of my entire left hand.

The miscalculation, however, has not limited me much. Rather, it has allowed me to direct myself in to the direction I needed to be headed. I sought the assistance of various people at the trading post in order to find supplies to repair the damaged muscle. During this excursion, I met one trader who wished to examine my hands more closely to better understand the problem. As this was logical, I let her do so. When she removed her gloves in order to feel the base of my palm I immediately saw the solution. Her hands were to be my hands.

I left to find information within the laws here surrounding the exchange rules behind the pieces of a person. Specifically, I scanned the laws for "hand" as a keyword. This lead me to find a rather absurd law. It seems that, while within the area, when someone steals from an established trader then they shall have a hand removed. By extension, if they steal from multiple traders then both of their hands are removed. Here is the exchange I desired.

The setup process was simple, an exchange of a memory for select rations. The memory given being honest in such that I shall ensure its completion, the view of all of the other traders accusing her of a crime and then removing her hands in precisely 2 days. As I planned, she decided to begin to pack up to leave before such an event occurs. During my assistance of this packing, I placed select items I had recently borrowed from other traders within her primary traveling pack. All items selected were items she had recently attempted to exchange for.

The process of accusation and deliverance of the law was swift. By night, yesterday night by my time of this writing, I had procured my hands. I have since left on my travels; the hands, cut in half down on the extensor carpi ulnaris, preserved until I can find new equipment.

Day: 364

I have returned to the ruins where I had perfected my skin. Here, I have applied the obtained knowledge alongside my abandoned supplies in order to connect my hands.

The process was much more difficult than the others, mostly due to only having a single operating hand before the start of the procedure. Further, many of the extensor muscles will simply not match, yet I required precision control of precisely these muscles in order to operate. Further, I wished to incorporate a protective shielding material in order to protect the muscles from an electrical surge as before.

The solution was to completely redesign the interior portions of the forearm. Electrical signals and muscle contortion can be transmitted directly from triceps to the abductors through a series of tight woven gold and carbon meshing. By having a carbon weave be the center connection piece and then having a controlled quick release by connected to a hydraulic and the electric pulses for the extensor digitorum, the entire system can be setup to perform an object quick release by the interior of the arm. A new muscle system can further be attached to the lower abductor muscles, a series of pulse controls shall run the under distance of the arm, out of the back of the neck, and into the top of the skull. This system will allow many future options. Though much of the preserved hands will need to be scrapped, they will still appear as the hands I envisioned. They just work more efficiently.

Once I had the first hand completed, the rest of the operation was much more smooth. I even realized that I could leave an open carbon clip and a different pulse release here that would let me temporarily release the arm. This system would allow for both a formidable weapon and a useful tool. The exact process is much the same as the first described arm and notes do not need to be kept.

The final pieces of these notes shall emphasize the use of having secondary pulse wires to the brain. After finishing my hands, the auxiliary function wires need a connection. This is also a rather simple process. By having the wires run the center of the cortex and moving into the skull near the front, one can easily attach such wires into the middle frontal gyrus, letting them rest in cerebrospinal fluid so as to not damage nearby areas. Gray matter extracted from another undecayed occipital lobe can be altered as to match the anterior protective wall and dendrites to match the accepting brain. This is a significant process as, it is not as easy to prevent the autoimmune system from attacking an intruder to the brain otherwise. Especially an intruder that does not belong in its, in my, understanding of perfection. The extracted gray matter can then be inserted under a lower fold immediately adjacent to the inferior frontal gyrus within the middle frontal gyrus. From here, a bit arcane remapping can connect a sequence of dendrites through the superior frontal gyrus and into the supplementary motor cortex. The use here should be obvious.

Despite the simplicity of the procedures described, this whole process took most of the days of this cycle. As of this writing, I have spent the last two days traveling. I have seen the final preparations of my skull, as well as everything but my heart, to the north.

Day: 398

My travels have brought me into an interesting location and situation. It seems that the lands that contain most of my remaining pieces is that of an old keep directed by a noble house. The noble house yet stands with their claim of protection over the area and its population. The population, however, seems to have a seed of sedition. Most of the people are taking to the idea that the noble house are holding supplies and information from the remaining people. To instigate the issue further, there appears to be a movement present that claims that the sacrifice of an Elizabeth Veschel - the youngest living member of the noble house - will be enough to attract the attention of divine assistance for true protection. Ultimately, this is troublesome for myself as this Elizabeth is the bearer of the fragments I traveled here for.

I will quietly setup a temporary living quarters here as I further study the situation. I shall try to find ways to be near Elizabeth whenever she actually shows. To provide a bit of light, at least she has taken care of my hair.

Day: 432

The situation has become much more easily managed for myself. Recently, a small riot took place during a public speech from the head of the noble house. During this riot, a move was made to attack Elizabeth. With intention of protecting my own well being, I moved quickly and placed my arm in front of the knife desperately reaching from the crowd; the minor mechanical ruin a fair trade for the preservation of irreplaceable being. The speech was immediately ended and all members of the house quickly retreating, their guards blocking the crowd.

A day following, I was contacted by a messenger for the noble house and requested in to the main house. Apparently, they wished to recruit me - in part for my selfless act and in part for my apparent speed - as a bodyguard for Elizabeth. The benefit this has for my being is obvious.

Since the event, I have been waiting and protecting until the time comes. I must be careful as acting too soon may instill hostility from either the noble house and guards or from the general population. Further, I do not wish to end a life without an inevitability or a use to such a life, as such a trade would be unfair for a system so important.

Day: 466

Over the course of the past few days, the intensity and number of riots has increased. A number of the guards for the noble have recently been killed or have left for fear of either themselves or their family's lives. I must commend these few on their logic. I, however, must stay.

Already I have denied four different assassination attempts upon Elizabeth. The first was a poor attempt at poison. As the liver contained within my body shall be replaced soon, I have taken it as a liberty in order to make the most function of it by testing and draining various portions of delivered consumables through it. Logically, this would allow myself to detect substances that are altered with the intent of damaging Elizabeth's - my - actual organs before any real damage can be sustained. However, this was unneeded. One particular order of bird was delivered with a very potent smell of the maikoa flower and had a distinct green lining. As I wished to test my ability to recover the current liver from such occurrences anyways, I can also confirm that the bird was indeed poisoned as expected. Recovery was simple and no explanation is required.

The following three attempts at assassination were all more desperate. All three times were either by an object or, for the most recent, a person entering a window and charging Elizabeth while holding a dagger. Two arrows and a young man, all of which I have since extirpated.

At this rate, I fear that I will be caught in a situation where I am not present in order to intercept this reckless behavior; none of these methods slay in the correct manner.

Day: 500

I am currently traveling back to my primary workshop with my required fragments in tow, in preservation on the catalyst body called Elizabeth.

Two days ago, a final riot had broken out among the population against the noble house. The doors and guards were quickly stormed through and the massacre of the fine construction of the building ensued. I had decided to protect Elizabeth by retreating to an inner chamber used to store weapons, as it was the closest chamber without windows I could reliably get to. Though I could have eliminated the onslaught, I could not risk losing Elizabeth during such an event.

During the barricading, however, I saw something quite useful. A pin-knife, just small enough to slip between ribs and just sturdy enough to pass through cartilage. I quickly palmed this, then turned towards Elizabeth. She took this gesture as a time to embrace me and shed tears of fear. I stroked my hair for its last moments on this bearer, reifying the opportunity to end her emotional disparity and calm the rioters with a showcase of sacrifice as delivered with a blade in to the heart. I know that somewhere my heart aches for this life that could have never been.

As I walked out of the storage with the deceased body that was once Elizabeth's in tow, the once-rioters decided to only watch in silence and allowed me to leave without any conflict. Perfect.

Day: 534

I have finalized every piece of my own assembly with exception to my heart. My hair flows from my head, my eyes shine in the mirror at the beauty of my own work. The envy of metal and flesh, if only but a major flaw. Blood doesn't flow correctly, I do not see the full rose of the cheeks. The final correction must occur.

The process of attaching my scalp was a simple one, perhaps the most simple of any of the procedures. The only complication to note is that a thin sheet of the top of the cranium most be taken during the initial removal to ensure that the hair roots stays alive. Even such a crude method as using a razor and peeling up the flesh can accomplish this, one just must press in approximately 2mm beyond the initial white revealing before pushing up. Attaching only requires a simple acid to remove any irregularities from both the top of the skull and the under portions of the scalp; this is followed by an application of serum to regenerate and bind the two portions together.

The rest of the internal organs was a bit more complex, however the basic ideas of the procedure are simple enough. The body can survive for an extended period of time without many dietary based organs. The problem occurs in that the body will attempt to throw itself in hypovolemic shock at such an occurrence. Ultimately, this is an important function; it causes a body to first attempt to rectify the problem, obviously impossible, and then later to kill itself as to not deliver disease attracted from such wounds back to its family. However, a function such as this is obviously not required in an environment kept sterile by arcane means and as such must be shut down. The main method of accomplishing this is with a forced injection of oxygen to all parts of the body, especially the cortex. The rest of the operation must be accomplished swiftly in order to reduce the delusional effect that this causes.

This is not as important however as a series of ruins to the west. A glimpse at what is left, that's where it shall be. A scarlet bird carrying my heart.

My mind tells me that the cycles shall be faster, that the beating shall run lighter. This will be the most difficult piece and the only one that I can not preemptively write in its inevitability. I must keep my notes more constant from here for this reason. I do not know what comes after this finishing.

Day: 541

Today I have discovered the ruins I was supposed to meet the scarlet bird within. The structure was strange, mystifying. Why a person would place a pit in such a location is quite baffling, though easily moved over. Inside, I was met by a strange floating creature covered in fur. A strange arcane energy radiates from this creature and its mind is applying this flow in such a strange manner. I shall observe this in time.

More significantly is that this creature is part of a group seeking correction to the world. I can appreciate this, for what is the point of myself if there is no world to appreciate me in turn? To expand upon this, the group contains a figure that seems to register with my memories somehow. A woman named "Wren". As this last fragment of my being does not deliver any visual cues, I can not declare for sure whether or not this is the container, however, I have performed a simple experiment to test the first requirement: after a simple lie of not being able to climb over the aforementioned pit, I have managed to convince this Wren to carry me across. Here I was able to obscure my testing of the beating of the heart contained within. From what I heard, it lined up with my memory. Yet, at the same time, it was off. Quiet.

I will be unable to just open this person in order to make sure as well. Every member of this group seems to be an entity of immense capability or the weaver of very powerful forces, even this Wren. For once, I fear for the damaging of the pieces I have already obtained if I was to make a motion early. This is most likely the complication that I observed. Fortunately, they quickly welcomed me to their cause.

Day: 542

Having now witnessed the brutal and murderous tendencies of Wren, seeing the erector pili react to the adrenaline rush of the body, the reaction of the skin to the heightened flow of blood, the timing of each action and reaction all emphasize health and control, a focused heart. More significantly, I can finally hear the beating of my heart during these periods. This type of control, this focus, it hurts me.

In Wren I can hear its frustration. Its lapsing of time. That husk of a body hungers for murder and blood, and with each passing - she causes the heart to just beat out of time slightly. It hastens at first, adding a forced flow of primal awareness, and then it quickly slows. It slows down in such a way as to not let anyone hear it. Except now, myself. I can hear it. Yet, if this keeps up, I won't be able to.

I am deeply concerned. With the previous carriers of my being, I had to only protect them from hazards of life in this wasteland as a whole. With Wren, I do not have to be concerned of the exterior damage. Instead, I am left to figure out how to protect it from herself. I must be careful and observe. It has lived this long, it should be able to take a bit more. Then, I must end her; I must end the body that is destroying my heart.

Upon a different matter, we had encountered a small child who claims to be a representation of fate. The concept of the word and why it should generate a physical representation is baffling, insulting. My mind controls the flow that I see to the future, what I know of is and if such an entity claims to the puppeteering nature that such a word would entail, then perhaps I can see it as just another piece to my established image that her own fate ends. Of course, such a thing is absurd and the group I am with seems to hold a protective nature on this child. I shall not decide her fate at this time.


This straggling group I am with has become quite a burden rather quickly. I question the sanity and reasoning of many of the members. Even more worrisome is the fact that it would be difficult to adjust their minds by physical means. The creature that appears to be just hollow armor, for example, seems to have no actual brain. I must figure out different means to address this problem.

The path the group takes also leaves me to question the decision making efficiency of this entire venture. Not one of them seems to have a focused goal and instead we have collectively been striding along a chase leading to many long abandoned areas. In time, we came across a suitable location for stay, a small strange town by the name of Vale.

At Vale we met two odd characters. The first presented us with a few pieces of equipment to "aid the quest". As this character's motives seem to be questionable, I will accept these gifts knowing they are an attempt at an exchange of trust; an exchange I refuse to perform. The group, however, seems to accept this character much more readily. The second character is the one who had seemed to be able to rapidly remove what small signs of focus the party had and instead replaced this aspect with the goal of saving a small town from dragons. The hysteria required to do this, curious coming from another being seemingly capable of design such as I am, offers the most interesting options in manipulation. I shall explore this aspect later.

I shall have plenty of time to take note on the behavior of each person involved in this group. Due to the hysteria of the second odd character, we are now traveling with this person to the aforementioned town attacked by a dragon. Again, the efficiency of this endeavor is questionable.


The dragon endeavor had proved to be simultaneously more troublesome and more productive to my travels.

At three days prior to writing this entry, the group had arrived at the city containing the attacking dragon. At this location we had only initially discovered various rituals requiring the use of considerable amounts of blood and a rather strange woman. Further investigation lead to us discovering the woman was in fact a dragon under a veil and had another follower dragon in the waiting. The fight that took place upon this realization has provided many interesting pieces of information. For my own primary person, I had discovered an interesting process of applying a large degree of negative mass particles to my arcane manipulation attempts could lead to encompassing whole Sienzer groups (beings who are manipulated by magic as a whole object due to an intrastable relation) and temporarily forcing them into a demiplane of existence, a process I shall hereby name "Bamf sequence".

The other interesting discovery came from where my heart beats; Wren's emotional situation seems to be at in unusual state. During the fight, Wren performed a style of speed surgery upon one of the dragons, quickly removing a rather large portion of the dragon's hide. Upon the realization of, I believe, the positive implications of this marvelous breakthrough in hastened operations as well as the negative implications it would suggest to the extended well-being of the dragons, she promptly let her adrenaline fueled rage abstain and demanded the dragons talk instead. The results of this conversation has given the group a semi-focused goal: to assist the freeing of other dragons at a prison built to hold them in an attempt at trust.

At that time, I had questioned my previous writings of the stability of Wren and addressing the risk against reward of seizing my heart early. After arriving, by means of flight by dragonback (an event that did not provide me an opportunity to properly update this journal), at the dragon prison and due to events within I have now grown to re-question those ideas once more.

The dragon prison was primarily inhabited by various creatures devoted to the previously controlling god of one of the more unstable party members (the creature covered in fur). Initially, these creatures appeared to mostly be trivial. We had easily removed the first group we had encountered. The second group proved to be much more significantly troublesome, though not on their own prowess. Instead, a series of rapid injuries to Wren had caused a strange emotional changing point and caused her to turn against the living armor member of the group. The manipulating divine power over this area decided to seemingly capitalize on this occurrence and formed a wall around Wren and the armor.

After a short duration, Wren had escaped and attempted to answer one of my more private questions by suggesting that yes, living armor can be killed. However, upon this notion the living armor showed otherwise and returned. At this point, it took the combined capabilities of all present members of the group, noninclusive of Wren, in order to subdue the frantic Wren. In an attempt to take advantage of the hysteria caused by such an occurrence, I had offered to put a spinal lock to control the Wren on her. To my frustration, the other members of the group refused such an act. I shall both need to seek to control Wren in a different manner as well as seek to learn to control the mind altering effects of hysteria more.

The final occurrence within the prison had us meet a type of mirror group to ours, I believe with a divine parody of an attempt to match us each with an equal. Instead I had decided to take advantage of this opportunity to release my aforementioned frustration on the creature that most closely resembled our fur covered party member. The resulting imbalanced tide lead to a decisive victory against these beings, an act that served to balance my emotions once more. Upon a slightly different note, I do find it mildly interesting that this fight revealed another person also born of the apocalypse such as I. As this person understands the meaning of a clear and directed goal, I have decided to let him free.

Unfortunately, due to information given to another one of the party members, we have been sent on yet another directionless errand. I would like to mention that after the events that occurred in these prisons that a new method of Wren's balance of emotions has been presented. Wren has discovered that she had a name before being called Wren, the name "Arlette" (here-to-after referred to as). The prospect of having a life existing as something other than "Wren" has seem to provide a hook of stability upon her. If her proper form is to include the name Arlette then it shall be so for the purposes of my writing.


We had been lead to a standing kingdom of dragonborn people, the origin apparent of the party member by the name of Ratchek (another of the more biologically curious members). The condition of most of the remaining buildings in this kingdom leaves much to be desired, much that can be accomplished. I shall examine this more closely at a later date.

The group received information here that a significant portion of Ratchek's siblings have pooled the psychic holds of their minds together, forming a type of hivemind. The result is an entity who can take instant reaction upon a separate portion providing the sensory input. However, the individualism that is at cost with this does not outweigh the merits of such a design. Also triggered by this lack of apparent individualism has been a strong will at last. Ratchek appears to be at an emotional quandary about the whole occurrence and is now seeking a much more directed path of accomplishing his own goals. Though, his desire to turn away a powerful entity despite these goals, especially given the entity in question is unable to break from living by laws and edict, leaves much to be desired.

It is by Ratcheck's desire of stopping this hivemind that we first traveled forward. Forward to the birthing grounds of Ratchek and most of his siblings. Here we found information of Graz'zt, a demon prince, suffering from a case of logic degeneration as well as methods to prevent the effects caused by such a problem. Also at these birthing grounds we discovered an old tactician by name of Milana who seemingly borrowed divine magic in order to correct her flesh.

More significant than both of these cases, however, was an event that has provided interesting prospects for my own goals. Over the last few days, following the name revision, I have noticed Arlette becoming significantly more calm and less dangerous with herself. Due in part to this rapid change in her personality, I have also noticed a flourishing mix of the basic stages of emotional development. The event that caused me to take heed of this most readily was Arlette demanding the reason for my close examination of her. As a preemptive defense to the possibility of her noticing any lie I formulated at this time, I decided to instead use a method of response that was intended to bewilder with the actual truth and then quickly attack at this event (perhaps trapping her in a demiplane). The response I received from the admittance of wanting my heart from her body did only so much as bewilder myself and a rather interesting alternative. In a prospect, I believe one to encourage emotional unity, she wished for us to exchange hearts. This new path has presented a much more safe method to obtaining my goal.


I've only ever taken what is rightfully mine in the past, but today I was presented with a new concept. Take from those unable to properly apply their capabilities to let the strong wield such power using more capable hands.

Upon returning to the dragonborn kingdom, I was given a request to focus my mind with an oracle in order to align our journey. As the request required only my time and the result could increase the overall efficiency of the group, I was willing to oblige. While performing a collective form of future scrying through the oracle, I was presented a strange offer. A divine dragon by the name of Tiamat gave me the option to strip power from the oracle, a dying creature already, in exchange for allowing Tiamat to escape if her demise was ever evident before us. As such a deal has loose terms and the benefits are of significant value, I agreed.

And so, I let it flow. A channeled stream of divine energy. The ability to direct one's soul whilst nearing the verge of death. This is a wonderful improvement for my overall survivability, for if I was to hinge for a nanosecond and be able to direct all subsystems into reconstruction mode then I would be able to rebuild myself before mortality could ever be realized. Divine energy allows me to accomplish this moment. I shall explore more possibilities at a later time.

On a slightly more curious note, when I came out of the future scrying, Arlette was there grasping my hand and had the appearance of a person facing their end, an expression very similar to that of Elizabeth's before circumstances killed her. I could not readily see any sign of something threatening Arlette's life and the only explanation she gave was that her worry was due to my situation. I can only assume that being denied the heart exchange would be as though losing her actual heart. Perhaps she knows she must rebuild as well?

As to the tasks of the group as a whole, due in large part to the future scrying, we are now setting off towards a mountain constructed around the arcane manipulation of time with intent of removing the hivemind before a different threat arrives: the grand army of Bane.


(Go to sand temple. tracing down gestalt. Fight in mind. Find sand king. Find jorgh. Free sand king.)


(Awesome inn)


(Voice of Bane fight)

The Theme Song

I wanna be the very best
Like no one ever was

To dissect them is my real test
To affix them is my cause

I will travel across the land
Searching far and wide

Find that scarlet bird who contains
My heart that's inside

Kira Sif!
Gotta affix 'em all--

It's just you and me
I know it's my destiny

Kira Sif!

Ooooh, you're the last specimen
In a world that shall not end

Kira Sif!
Gotta affix 'em all--

That heart is true
Those atriums will pull me through

You stay with me and I'll slay you
Ohhh, arlette~!

Gotta affix 'em all--
Kira Sif!

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