Kampi's Saga: To be the Light or Embrace the Dark

Another bit of IC jounal this entry of Kampi's Saga. Enjoy! 

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28th Day of Skerpa (the month of Mai)
Local year of 5315

Rune: Ingwaz 
Literal Meaning: the god Yngvi (an older name for Freyng)
Interpretations: Fertility, Potential, Virtue

• Right-side up: Friendship, Inner Growth, Loyalty
• Inverted: Futility, Inner Confusion, Spiritual Crisis

Again the Ingwaz rune shows its portents, both positive and negative; a week ago it was more so focused upon negative elements and I was in a dark place since that past laugardagr, until today: I met a traveller on the road to Dagger Deep that lifted my spirits and the events of the day restored my faith. I feel that I have taken the first steps to redeem my recent misdeeds.

The Lovely Avana

The traveller I mention was a Wood Elf by the name of Avana. She was travelling south from her home north of the Nani Wastes to discover prospective trading partners for her village. How such a delicate thing made it through the Wastes and the horrors within unarmed astounds me, but as she demonstrated during our wanderings through the wilds her deftness to move through the undergrowth unseen is peerless and her dress has practical design of being able to naturally blend in with foliage.

When we reached the town proper, I gave her to the best of my ability a tour of the layout. Whilst doing so I purchased a bone talisman from a local with the thrice-stacked Tiwaz rune of the God of Courage, Tyraz, carved upon it. Later that day, to praise the bounty of Freyng and the fortuity of his rune, I carved an Ingwaz on the obverse as a reminder of the memorable fortnight I had experienced as of late.

After a tour of the village grounds I retired to my private spot to commune, creating potions of healing and praying to the Æsir, whilst Avana gathered nearby edible berries for us to enjoy. Her knowledge of the uses of plants of this land is remarkable; I feel that she would be most beneficial to the folk of this land if she shared her knowledge with other like-minded healers versed in the herbal-arts.

Once we returned to town we enjoyed a late midday meal of fruit we gathered, come dried meat I had, and a bowl of stew a local shopkeeper was selling whilst we discussed things of a somewhat metaphysical nature: Avana and her people do not worship the divine nor believe in any sort of afterlife; they believe the departed soul returns to the earth. As a long-lived race, they pay respect to their venerable elven fore-bearers but do not beseech them for aid, nor do they receive any beyond what they consider magical boons from the vættir of the land.

I have heard similar things from my friend Tobias, though I believe he acknowledges that the gods do exist, or at least he is unable to explain the small miracles I am able to bring forth nor the larger ones of other, more gifted individuals.

Whilst I am writing upon the topic of faith, I will mention that this seemed to be a prevalent subject of this day for a large band of pilgrims (many armed) wandered into Dagger Deep soon after our arrival. Dressed in stark white vestments with azure features and the symbol of their deity, Om, they preached about the salvation and protection their god granted to their faithful, particularly from the dark lich figure that seems to plague this land.

They handed out pendants bearing this 'Ω' rune of Om and they claimed it protected the wearer from having their soul ripped out of their body by powerful magic. One of their followers offered me such a pendant, but I politely declined motioning to the amulets of my own faith that I wore; I was not about to forsake the Æsir for a single god despite their supposed ways of peace or how tested my faith has been as of late.

Though what their leader, Brutha, preached sounded positive, I, amongst others, was wary of any large force that comes here bearing words of peace but is also heavily armed. When at last the 'Omnians' tired of attempting to convince the stubborn and diverse collection of proud individuals that populate this town to their faith, they quickly labelled all who would not join their cause as heretics and decreed we shall all be cleansed with flame. Battle was joined and throughout the day we fought against those who would seek to assimilate us.

Several of us faithful banded together with the Bishop of Ithus and Guildmaster of the Divine ways (my mentor) Relan, as we fought off first wave of the Omnians. Upon driving off their force from the south of the town, Relan discovered a book belonging to one of the Omnians and set about translating it the divine runes it contained to see if any information pertaining to their faith could be used against them. During this time a few of us took a lesson in learning the first three divine runes for the common letters A, B, & C. 

Personally, I am sceptical that this is the script set forth by the Æsir as a means of writing; it is said the All-Father hung himself for nine nights on the cosmic tree yggdrasil, pierced by his own spear gungnir, without food or drink in self-sacrifice before he received the mystical runes. As I have studied, the arcane script used by the magic-users of this land is incredibly similar to the elder futhark of my people and I believe this is no coincidence; Wodin is the god of magic, ergo that is the script of the Æsir. I am willing to accept that these so called 'divine runes' are perhaps the script of the Vanir or other such gods...

Unfortunately for several of us, we were so intent on studying and uncovering the truths contained within the text we failed to heed the warning the perceptive Avana voiced just before we all lapsed into unconsciousness and then death. When I awoke from the deepest of slumber, a verdant-clad warrior was pouring a potion of resurrection down my throat; the one I recognized Relan bestowed upon me after I requested it, for I believed my feeble miracles wouldn't be strong enough to avail Avana if she by chance fell as a newcomer to this land.

Upon assessing my surroundings, I saw that Relan was missing and two others lay dead, one of them Avana. I quickly removed to restore her to life with a potion of my own that an individual by the name of Jackrym had traded to me for a 'favour'. I am not one to make oaths where I do not know the resulting deal, but I believe bringing Avana back was worth it and shall hold true to it though I do not entirely trust him.

Jackrym Donajari

Jackrym appears to be a follower of the divine though I have yet to inquire about the particulars of his belief. When we first met, he teased me with knowledge of the location of part of an artefact of my faith, particularly relating to the fallen Æsir, Lokki. He claimed he would exchange such valuable information for something of equal worth; what that is exactly he has yet to say, but he hinted on something of a personal nature. I rebuffed him at first, wanting nothing to do with anything related to the Trickster, but the thought gnawed at me and I did seek him out to continue our discussion; my reasoning was thus: though I have no interest in the power such a whole artefact could grant me, I feel it is my duty to obtain at least the one part I am able to, lest it fall in its entirety into the hands of those who'd misuse it.

Could this be the mask Jackrym alluded to?

When we met again his expressed knowledge of my own gods, myths, and the artefact (which was apparently a mask created/worn by the god of Mischief and Strife before he was cast out of the Æsir) convinced me he speaks the truth (or at least he is a very good at embellishing it); Shiny believes he is trustworthy, but warns me any oath sworn with him must be carefully worded. So I will take him at his word, but if he breaks our contract, I do know from two encounters that he has a deep aversion to iron and I shall use that knowledge to his detriment.

The question now is, how much would I give for the chance to safeguard this item? Wodin gave his eye for a drink from the well of wisdom. Tyraz gave his hand so the monstrous Fenris-Wolf could be bound. Would my sacrifice be for personal gain or for the betterment of my community?

I must dwell deeply upon this, yet I stray from recounting the events of the day:

We had soon learned that Relan had been abducted by the Omnians and they were keeping him held in Rowanoak. Eventually our foe were driven from the fortress and Relan freed. Once again a group, we made for the holy grounds of Ithus, we much needed to pray to our gods and restore our faith. 

Whilst we were prostrate, we were again attacked by the followers of Om; the seemed content on capturing Relan, either as the prophet of Ithus or as the primate of the divine guild. We drove them off after suffering casualties.

Our reserves of faith were low and each time we stopped to pray, the Omnians would harass us and wear down the small amount of divine energy we'd gain from our devotions. Though taxed to our limit, we eventually captured one of the leaders, the more peaceful 'mother' and scattered the remaining worshippers of Om before they burnt King Willumarius alive. Fighting beside my mentor and defending in the name of the Æsir felt righteous; it has restore confidence in myself and my abilities and I spoke briefly with Relan about further serving those I trust by further becoming a warrior-priest.

The remains of the day were spent taking care of personal business, relaxing and talking with friends, new and old, about a great many things: ethics, morality, faith, etc.

Sendill

One of my new friends is a man named Sendill. His attire is very familiar to me, similar to those of my kin and I soon learned he he is a newcomer to this land and arrived in a manner very similar to my own: we were both shipwrecked whilst on a journey. Though few of the names and places he mentioned I recognized, I feel that I have met another of my kinsfolk. That makes two, and with them we make three, the most blessed of numbers. Apparently he fancies himself a skáld; at last, perhaps a decent poet has come to these lands, for I am sick of what that hestkuk Philip tries to pass off as poetry.

The late hours of the evening were constantly disturbed by the antics of a troupe of madcap fools, enraging several patrons, including those of our table like Shiny and Sendill. Our discussion was cut short before I could inquire if Sendill was familiar with the gods of our homeland. Even though he mentioned his interest in the mages of Illodia, another faithful follower of the Æsir would not hurt to broaden their presence in this land, and with his concerns of poetry and magic, Wodin may be of much interest to him...


I pray I will meet my friends again in good health, especially the lovely Avana, for she may have been the one who most raised my spirits the most.

Praise Be To the Æsir 

-Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson

Life of Riley (VHL Concerns)

I've been meaning to make this post for sometime, I just refrained from doing it until I felt I had more definite information, which I do now.

First, a bit of backstory:

About two months ago I had one of my yearly abdominal MRI scans for VHL, and the following week I saw my endocrinologist about the results. For almost a year I had been receiving monthly injections of a drug known as Sandostatin, which is primary used in my case to suppress the symptoms of active Neuroendocrine Tumors in the pancreas such as flushing, but it has an additional effect where it may retard tumour growth and possibly reduce tumour size; the two tumours I have on my pancreas are slowly growing towards the 2cm size of concern where they have the ability to develop into cancerous growths that could metastasis and potentially spread. The results of this latest batch of images were additionally to see if the drug was having any beneficial effect on growth limitation.

The results were disheartening on several accounts: first off, the drug didn't seem to be delaying their growth either by not being on it long enough to have effect or just being ineffective in general: the larger of the two is now 18.9mm in size up from the 18mm it was about a year ago, and the smaller being 1.9mm from 1.1mm. This means sooner or later I'll have to have surgery to remove said tumours, most likely a complex procedure that'll require the reconstruction of my Foregut given their location near the head of the pancreas near various local organs and their ducts, unless by chance the drug does send these tumours into remission.

The more concerning thing though, was the rather sudden appearance of a tumour (2.4cm in size) on my left kidney that appears to be consistent with a Renal Cell Carcinoma. Although rather small and of little immediate concern of possible metastasis (my VHL handbook lists there have been only three verified reports of metastasis from tumours smaller than 4cm, all of which were greater than 3cm in size during a twenty year period), the tumour's rather sudden appearance means that its growth rate is fairly considerable so I should be dealt with sooner than later.

Flash-forward to now'ish:

A few weeks ago I saw a radiologist about the possibility of having the tumour on my left kidney removed through Radio-Frequency Ablation, a minimally invasive process where they basically insert a probe into the tumour and burn it away with concentrated heat. Unfortunately he doesn't believe the procedure would work for me given several factors, mostly sensitive location and its position by the main vessels and ducts in the kidney mean they'd act as a heat sink, preventing them from being able to burn away the whole tumour site. Disappointing to hear.

I recently talked with my specialist last week and he's booked me for surgery for June 22nd. He and another kidney specialist, whom I'm meeting this Wednesday, are going to surgically remove the tumour and depending on factors, the order of preference on how it goes will be laprascopic (keyhole) partial nephrectomy (partial removal of the kidney) - recovery time estimated a month; if for some reason scar-tissue or other factors prevent them going in laprascopically, then it'll be an open surgery partial nephrectomy - a recovery time of approx. three months; and worst case scenario it'll be a radical (complete) nephrectomy - also around three months recovery.

I mentioned to him the pair of tumours on my pancreas that were reaching a concern size-wise from recent scans and that they may want to discuss the possibility working with my other specialist who has been monitoring/planning for those as I have yet to see him since these recent developments; my specialist thought this was a very good idea and shall get in touch with him as it might be better if we're able to minimize my total recovery time by one large procedure rather than waiting until I'm healthy from this operation enough to go under again for my pancreas. This remains to be seen though.

It's good to have a date to inform people of and plan around, but there's still many unknowns at this point, like how early do I have to be off work for any pre-op prep, are my specialists going to collaborate on also dealing with the concerns on my pancreas at the same time, if so what's the projected recovery time, complications, etc. I may get some more answers this Wednesday and if so I'll let those interested if I don't post it on my blog.

Aside from all this, my health has been excellent and I've been doing my best to enjoy the wonderful weather we've been having until I no longer have the chance to do so! Last weekend was my partner and I's 8th anniversary together and 1 year for being engaged. To celebrate, we had a anniversary/belated-engagement party on Friday; many friends came and we were most loved. On the following Saturday the both of us attended Medieval Chaos; it was the first time for the Missus' but she enjoyed and says she'd like to go again in the future. I'll be writing an IC post on that soon. Best anniversary ever!

Photo Credit to our good friend Scotty.

Despite these medical concerns, life is truly magnificent! :)

Kampi's Saga: The Devil's in the Details

Today's entry of Kampi's Saga is a somewhat personal excerpt from his private journal on recent events: 

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20th Day of Skerpa (the month of Mai)
Local year of 5315

Rune: Ingwaz 
Literal Meaning: the god Yngvi (an older name for Freyng)
Interpretations: Fertility, Potential, Virtue

• Right-side up: Friendship, Inner Growth, Loyalty
• Inverted: Futility, Inner Confusion, Spiritual Crisis

The god Freyng has been blessing the lands of late with his light and warmth, for the rune most connected with this deity is prevalent this fortnight, but the recent events of the 16th day have darkened my heart. I fear that the Trickster has his influence upon that day and perhaps my own soul, for I view my own actions with confusion and disdain. But I shan't dwell upon this, for what has been done in the past cannot be undone and I will strive to live with any consequences.

But I am getting ahead of myself. For the beginning of this entry I shall turn my focus to the brighter happenings since my last entry:

During my stopovers in the lands of Daggergard, I have met with my mentor Relan, and along with acolyte follower of the god Ithus, Zanatos, I have learnt and practised many things. I now feel more versed in channelling the faith given to me by the Æsir during my times in prayer into small miracles that I hope have been beneficial to my friends and to the community as a whole.

Following the example laid before me by Zanatos, along with my desire to further serve the All-Father and the Æsir as a warrior-priest, I have taken to wearing more armour in an attempt to become accustom to such battle-garb, though I do not feel that I am used to it enough to gain any protective benefit; hopefully the usefulness of such bulky dress becomes apparent soon, for I am still unused to the warm clime of this land, and the increased garb makes it exhausting to bear to the point I almost regret the bounty the Lord of Sunlight places upon this land.

A set of greaves, and several plates about my chest, upper back, and shoulders have been placed upon my person, and I have a small shirt of maille I am looking to use to replace my hooded tunic, increasing protection but also perhaps better cooling as well. With the aid of the most talented artisan I have had the fortune of meeting; Gustav of the shoppe Dragon Anvil close to the realm of Blackmoore; I now have a helm in the fashion of my homeland closer fitting to my size and less of that of the helm of a jötunn I previously owned, and a set of vambraces with the All-Father's ravens Huginn & Muninn to wear proudly. 

I have transcribed the inscribed runes of my people into common speech:

"Huginn and Muninn fly every day over the great earth.
I fear for Hugin that he may not return, yet more am I anxious for Munin."

Huginn's name comes from the word for 'thought' and the word for 'memory' is where Muninn's comes from. May their keen sight and wisdom aid me in times to come.

Such aid did not come to me laugardagr of the past week, for I have been much troubled by the deeds done on that day. Initially it began quite well; I briefly chatted with folk, was asked by my thrice-oathbound friend Kail that I might pray that the god of justice of my people, the great Lawspeaker, Forsite, would watch over a trial that was soon to commence and see that justice was meted out. I did so on his behalf, keeping with my oath. I still do not know the result of said trial, but I know the Presiding One would see justice done on the perjured, who was accused of oath-breaking, one of the three most serious crimes of my people.

Just as I was completing my devotions to the Æsir in my favourite place of prayer, I opened my eyes to what I first believed to be a trick of the senses: boldly striding up the path towards me in a familiar, almost cocksure gait was a sight that I had not seen before the months turned to winter in this land. It was the wild-elf known only as the Pict. We exchanged hearty greetings and enjoyed each others' company (at least, I know I did) whilst we travelled the lands. 

He told me what and where he been since we last parted ways a season ago, just after we had scoured the far coast for remains of the wreck that brought me here and finding little but absolution. He told he been across the water to the kingdom of Ankh, where he relieved many of their burdens of meagre wealth, and to the Ork lands of Rugger'shrek on a personal quest to ensure the cousin of the Red King did not usurp their territory for their own. I admire his strong convictions and prowess in battle, though I do not necessarily approve of his loose morality nor his love for coin.

After sometime in the town, we where approached by an individual calling himself I believe Al-Azif, displaced from his home in far southern lands. After some banter and some combat training, the Pict elected to take him on as an apprentice of sorts. (Surprising, it seems the Pict has become more tolerable of being associated with non-elven races; perhaps the past time we spent together lessened his prejudice, if only slightly. Folk still find him brusque and rude so perhaps nothing has changed.)

I myself sparred briefly with a follower of Cheeba, before we took to the bar to slake our thirst. Just as I had paid for a round for the three of us the most bizarre thing occurred; I shall attempt to relate what happened to the best of my ability:


One moment we were standing in front of the bar, the next we were suddenly in wood-henge with, as was quickly surmised, the rest of the denizens and visitors of Dagger Deep. But this was not the wood-henge we knew, it was somehow... different; all we could lay our sight upon was. Colours and textures were slightly off, sounds and voices carried oddly, things smelt as if they were only distantly familiar. It was like being a part of the distorted reflection one sees when they gaze into a pool of water.

We were held fast and silent by powerful magic emanating from one of the three... beings, none of which we collectively recognized but I'm sure we all sensed their power. In summation, they offered our collective freedom from their 'realm' if we entertained them by participating in what they considered a game, at the conclusion of which we would be returned to the Dagger Deep we knew. We were divided roughly into two groups and a leader was chosen for both; the mare (I still don't get the title, he doesn't resemble a female horse to me at all), Dorian Noakes, and the elven prince, Tumbagil.

This 'game' as it was called, alternated between which ever force held Rowanoak during the hour and was victorious during skirmishes in Ork's Field, whist discovering and returning gems the beings had scattered about the land to accrue 'points'. Whichever force had the most 'points' at the end of the day would be titled the victor. These beings also enticed the greedy and unwise with magical rings that would bind them to the bearers' very soul. I wouldn't accept such a prize from any being I did not trust, no matter what powers it may grant. 


Myself and the rest of the group assigned to the mare were then magically transported to a distorted mirror of Hawthorne Heath. Most rallied behind their new leader as they moved to take Rowanoak before the opposing force did, but a handful like myself had reservations on playing this 'game'. Three of them I knew: the Pict, my close friend Tobias, and an individual I met last week called Shiny. The fourth one the Pict knew as a member of the pygmy tribe named Lisi. We banded together and to my lasting regret it was decided that being the most familiar the majority of the group, I should be the leader of our small band. I tried to lead as Wodin does the Æsir, but I feel that I was most unworthy attempting to do so.

I found the hours remaining until the farce of a game came to an end frustrating and exhausting; even though it was impressed upon us any actions taken against our fellow comrades would not have repercussions once we were returned to our own realm, I still regret many actions I took (or did not take) when attempting to embrace this so called 'freedom'. Taking a cue from Shiny's arraignment with Kalabar, our group hired ourselves out as mercenaries and a deal was struck: we were to assist Tumbagil and his force in defending Rowanoak when they had possession of it.

I was determined to stick to the oath sworn and so we did, but only to the strict wording. We did not assist when taking the fort, nor during any of the other skirmishes during that cursed day. The remainder of the day we spent trying to make sense of this whole mess (at least I was). I came to learn that I am not fit to be a leader, or at least one whose followers have such a different moral outlooks than I do. 

I was attacked by those I considered friends. I sold my services for coin like a whore. Though I tried to justify my actions to what Wodin and the rest of the Æsir would want, I see now that I was lying to myself to keep face as a so called 'leader' and give my followers what they desired.

I watched the Pict slay in a cold-blood a mage I considered myself friends with right in front of me and I did nothing to prevent it. Perhaps a madness briefly took me as I rifled through his pouches looking for gains, like a honour-less coward. Even close Tobias, muttered my actions being untrue to the Kampi he knew. Using the power the gods granted me I returned him to life, but that was not enough to forgive the despicable offences committed. I shall endeavour to make things right.

At the end of the day, I was sullen and dejected for I had realized that this thing whole thing, this 'game', could be an omen of the beginning of Ragnarök:

"Brothers will fight and kill each other, sisters' children will defile kinship.
It is harsh in the world, whoredom rife — an axe age, a sword age — shields are riven
— a wind age, a wolf age— before the world goes headlong. No man will have mercy on another." 

Surprisingly, as promised, those 'beings' returned everyone to the exact spot they had been before we were abducted, once they determined the victor of their 'game': the mare; perhaps the Father of Victory was teaching me humility for my belief that Tumbagil was to be the clear victor due to the combat prowess of his force. I clearly underestimated our force to my further shame.

The Pict, Al-Azif, and I once again found ourselves in front of a familiar bar, waiting to be served those drinks I ordered it seemed like eons ago. I drank deep and often, trying to wash my troubles away. But now that I am sober I recall all that happened like a cruel dream.

Yet, aside from the harsh memories of what occurred and some changes to my personal items, I will strive to remain resolute after my faith has been tested so harshly. I've learned that though I may enjoy the company of certain individuals, they mayhap not be the best influence upon me. 

I need to deeply reconsider my relationships.

Praise Be To the Æsir 

-Ref 'Kampi' Vandillson