Heliomance

Sometimes things don’t work out Sometimes it’s no-one’s fault Sometimes things just fall apart Sometimes the support that someone needs Isn’t the support I want to give Sometimes what they need is a friend Not a rescuer, not a lover When I want to help, I need to stop and ask “Am I doing this for them, or for me?” If I help with any thought of reward, it’s no help If I help in the hope they will love me for it, it’s no help If I care for them, if I want to help, I must help in the way that they need Let my only reward be that they are happier It’s okay to not be able to help I must care f

Aelwick was raised well, in an affluent household, taught from a young age to be the consummate host. He learnt his lessons well, and pleased his tutors, being a dutiful and obedient boy. As he grew older, management lessons began to be added to his lessons in hospitality and ettiquette, and he proved apt at that, too. The young Aelwick seemed to have a knack for learning the ins and outs of castle business, and his tutors, with the approval of his family, cultivated that gift. At age 21, he became the junior castellan to a castle in northeast Cormyr, under an older man nearing retirement. He acquitted himself well, and took over running the

Surging, heaving, roiling. The white shapes raced over the snow, closing in rapidly on the herd of slow, stupid creatures. Aside from the crunch of paws in snow, all was eerily silent, a soundless wave of tooth and claw. One hunter, younger, inexperienced, more eager, pulled ahead of the pack. He chose his prey and leapt - only to be bulled out of the air. He fell to the snow, skidding, rolling, the pristine white of fur and ground marred by a streak of red. The food-creature he had attacked snorted defiance at him, though his eyes rolled as the rest of the pack drew close. But they were not interested in him. He was strong, tough, and there

I want to take it all away To roll it up and say it'll all be fine I want to save you from the world The insults that are hurled and hurt you deep I want to hug you close to me And say no matter what you see you'll come out on top My instincts scream protection My morals say I must A friend that's sunk in torment needs my help But I'm too far away I do not have the right To help in every way I think I could So I'm standing on the sidelines Staring at your pain Knowing that there's little I can do Please, won't you let me in? It hurts to see you so But I will not - cannot - move unless you ask.

The darkness of the caves is all you've ever known, all there's ever been. All there is. Darkness, and toil, and the struggle to survive. Occasionally, very occasionally, people whisper of something known as "magic". Not that anyone pays any heed. Only a feebleminded babe could believe those tales. You remember an old lady who would tell you stories of such things. You haven't seen her for many years, now. You try to remember the last time you saw her. Probably about the time you repeated one of her tales to your parents. They cuffed you, and told you to pay no heed to such flights of fancy. The next time you wandered past her house, she wasn