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A Quill, A Book, and A Hope

Being an account of a wandering master mousemage.

Iili the Mage
Scholar's Quarter
An introduction
If you have stumbled across my words during your travels in the Aether, dear reader, I must apologize for the quality of my diatribes. This journal tends to contain my innermost thoughts in such a way as your humble servant can express them: in that manner, it seems to be a litany of frustration for chaotic times. If you have come here intentionally, however, I welcome you with open arms, and hope that my sanctum sanctorum will provide some manner of entertainment; if I cannot play the Magician, I hope I can at least play the Fool.

An accounting of myself
Slate grey mouse, about 4 foot high, perhaps 7 stone in weight (getting a bit pudgy in my middle age). Pair of small round glasses, enchanted slightly to attempt to make the brighter days around here a bit more bearable. I seem to have gathered the nickname of "friar" even though I am not really a man of the cloth. (Although some days I wonder if I should have become a monk instead.) Local village hedge-wizard for a few years, rose to Journeyman of Ritual Magics in the Mages' Guild and moved to the Great Kingdom of Birya, a place of daily wonder and occasional joy. Given a rather outrageous translucent iridescent mage's robe as a token of my ascendance, I still have problems at this moment wearing it around my daily routine (although I have to admit it makes me feel like a Mage of some competence when I wear it). Promoted to Master Mage at the Vista Hospice after moving to Wyvernbight because I thought the love I always wanted was finally at hand. It was not.

My history is varied and admittedly checkered, a subject which I may or may not broach at my leisure. Suffice it to say, as of late, I have grown tired of trying to deal with the world. You may read this if you like, but I am not that interested in communication right now - this is solely for my own records.

About this journal
The fires still burn inside of me, beckoning me to fight the wrongs of the universe and find a way to put things right. I abandoned this journal for a significant period of time because I thought my life had moved beyond slow accounting of endless travails. However, it has not. So I write once again, and hope that in doing so none of the affected parties will notice. If they do, I suppose, it doesn't matter anyway. Perhaps it will entertain your eyes to read my tribulations; I cannot know.

Someday the darkness of this era will break into dawn.

...so you're not disappointed at all.

You've got the find the answer, dream warrior, sun dancer; you've got to find a reason, something sacred to believe in.

...and here I go again, on my own...

Does it make you happy, you're so strange?

Through the fire and flames, we carry on.

Someday, love will find you, break those chains that bind you.

If I could wave my magic wand, I'd set everybody free.