STORY: Ashes to Ashes

"Help! Oh please mercy-wercy please somebody help me!"

Wendell was traveling through Sarutabaruta when he heard this urgent, desperate cry. He looked around frantically and saw a badly injured Tarutaru running for his life from a Yagudo, one of the local beastmen. Almost instinctively Wendell focused his thoughts and whispered the incantations to cast his healing magic on the Tarutaru. Wendell's magic healed the Taru completely, pissing off the beasman well enough that came after him now instead of its original target.

Wendell watched as the little Tarutaru ducked into some tall grass in an attempt to hide, now that the Yagudo was no longer threatening his life. The Yagudo ran towards Wendell, chanting ancient words of power as it did so. Wendell prepared to rush it before it could finish the spell. He grabbed the hilt of his war hammer but paused for a moment at the thought that suddenly ran through his mind: "Too weak to be worthwhile." Before he could ponder why he would think something like that, the beastman had finished its Black Magic and stones rose from the ground under Wendell, pummeling him all over his body.

Only bruised from this low power magic, Wendell let go of his war hammer and began chanting different words of power that he knew, words that drew power from a more pure source. Wanting to finish this quickly, he altered these words to increase their effect, and cast his banishing magic on the creature. The power of white magic surged through the creatures body, and it was obviously much more than the creature could take. With a guttural cry it fell to the ground defeated.

Walking over to it, Wendell wondered what it might have felt like to have used a large weapon to defeat this monster. Would he have enjoyed it? As he stared at the rapidly decomposing corpse he could vividly picture the image from his dream, the image of cleaving a monster in two and having its blood spray everywhere. Was he really the kind of person who could do something like that? He did defeat the monster rather quickly on purpose. And where did that thought come from that ran through his mind? These questions ran through his mind as he sat down to rest and recover his spent magical power.

The Taru that had been hiding cautiously peeked out of the bushes. Seeing that it was safe now, he bowed in thanks to Wendell as he ran off to practice more magic on the hapless rarabs overpopulating the area. Wendell waved his farewell. He felt good knowing that he had helped the little Taru out. But a nagging thought tugged at his mind. Would he have felt more satisfied by defeating the Yagudo with his weapon rather than with magic? He pushed this thought and all the others aside as he stood up. The day was young, and there was still much he could do.

Wendell walked off, on the lookout for anyone who looked like they might need assistance. After all, helping those in need was what he did. The beastman corpse he left behind him was nothing more than a fading memory to him. It had already crumbled into ash. As the wind blew it picked up the ash with it, slowly erasing the last evidence of the beastman's existence from the face of Vana'diel.

STORY: Doubts

The sounds of battle are intense. Everywhere around him there are people fighting beastmen. The Galka, already disappointed that he missed out on the fun of being here at the beginning, does not hesitate at all in readying his Great Axe and jumping into the fray. He's mad. Mad at... something. He focuses this anger onto the beastmen who stands in front of him. One good swing cleaves the monster in two, spilling its blood all over the Galka. He laughes then, as he knows this will be a satisfying fight. With little pause between enemies, he loses himself to the berserker rage that comes to him so naturally...

Wendell awoke with a start. He sat up in his bed and tried to push the images the dream evoked out of his mind. He never had violent dreams like this. At least, not until after his mentor Dipaco-Kupaco passed away and Wendell had found those old letters. Thankfully the dreams weren't every night, but they still alarmed him. He sat in his bed for a few minutes and tried to clear his mind of that dream. It took him a little while, but he was finally able to do it.

Wendell got up from his bed and lit the lamp. It was still dark out. He pulled the box of letters out from under his bed and stared at them. The Galka who wrote them, Bardon, was a mystery to Wendell. His mentor had never spoke of him. Yet from the letters it seemed this mysterious Galka was somehow linked to himself. Wendell reached for one of the letters to read it again, but stopped himself and pulled his hand away. He already knew them by heart. Reading them again would gleam nothing new.

The letters were puzzling only because Wendell's mentor had always refused to talk with him about his past. Whenever he asked, Dipaco-Kupaco would simply tell him, "The person-werson who looks only to the pasty-wasty can'taru see where he's going-oing." That thought brought a smile to Wendell face now. The Tarutaru on whole had a fun way of speaking, and even thinking of it could help lift his spirits. But if Dipaco didn't want to dwell on the past, then why did he save those letters? That was one of the many questions these letters raised.

Still, if the letters were puzzling, the dreams were downright disturbing. He is a healer, a helper to those in need. The thought of enjoying fighting to such an extent scares him. Is this what lurks deep down inside him? Are these flashes from a past life, flashes of a hidden nature that will only begin to grow stronger? Wendell is not sure, but he's afraid the answer is yes. It makes him leery to even draw his war hammer, the healer's weapon, in times of need.

Wendell yawned and looked out his window. The sky was beginning to brighten outside and it looked like there wasn't much point in trying to get back to sleep now. He started getting ready for his day. Helping others, healing those in need, these activities usually keep his mind off of his troubles. He's already traveled to Bastok to try and find this mysterious "Bardon," but the people there were not very helpful to him. It seemed like even in the town of his origin, he was considered an outsider. Wondering if he'll ever find a place he truly belongs, Wendell left his house to begin a new day, one that he hopes may contain answers to the questions he seeks.

OOC: First post

My first ever blog post. I think I'm excited or something. Wendell is my FFXI character on the Lakshmi server. I used to do a good amount of role-playing with him some time ago and I wrote up several stories chronicling those adventures. Currently they are kept in my Allakhazam journal, but since Alla sold out to IGE I'll be removing them and putting them here instead. It is also my intention to add more stories in the near future.

I took a prolonged break from role-playing to focus my limited play time on other in-game pursuits, such as levelling and missions. things are settling out enough that I think I can start role playing again once a week or so. I won't be able to entrench myself in others' stories like I'd like at this pace, but at least I'll be able to forward Wendell's a bit. As I get the chance, I'll clean up those Alla stories and post them here. I'll also try to "blog" here with random observations and stuff. I'm still new to "blogging" though so things might be a little rough around the edges for a little while.