# The Secret Diaries of Lhovrik cath Kalissar (No Girls or Cats Allowed!)



## anonystu (Mar 11, 2003)

Day: 2/7/752
Time: Late night
Status of Misty: Kitchen, napping. (sleep spell, which on an animal of her weight, I estimate gives me roughly an hour).

How do you begin these things? Does this even really count as a beginning, considering that I have another journal...well had, before Misty turned it into her favorite scratching post.

If the purpose here is to keep this secret from everyone else, including my familiar, then this is merely a continuance of the other journal, whether it exists in a readable state or not. Then again, all of my training is focused at the very idea (somewhat distasteful) that other people's memories and minds are merely tools to use against them, so maybe I should write down some background, in case I were to need to examine, or remember my past conduct.

Though, given the events of today, I worry that I may be just writing the evidence that dooms me before the hands of the Inquisitors.

Anyway.

My name, is Lhovrik cath Kalissar, and I live in the city of Lir Sanek, which right now, is the most miserable port city in the entire world: the rain threatens to drown away all life, which is bad, because you die, but good, because your cat dies.

But, Lhovrik, you say, that's why people build houses, to protect them from just those kind of conditions: and I know you, you've got that fancy prefix in front of your last name, which means you have plenty of money to build just those kind of houses.

I'd say you were right, and that in any reasonable sort of world, today would be the day that you would stay inside, study your latest spell, and drink hot cider. 

Perfectly reasonable, indeed. So why are you sitting there, shivering?

Because, reasonableness, of course, applies not to people with little sisters.

Still getting ahead of myself. Focus.

I study magic. My mom studies magic, and is one of the most well-respected wizards of the empire. My dad...well, he doesn't so much study magic as blow things...correction...blow people up, and he's quite good at it, people tell me. He doesn't talk about it much and I don't ask him. 

My sister, Ginara, however, does not study magic. It was always assumed she would, and it turned out she doesn't want to. Others say <blotted out by ink>. In any case, I'm fine with her choice, and I love my sister, and would do anything for her, and have sworn by this.

It's just somedays, you wish she would have settled for a life of memorizing the fifty-seven different ways live crickets can be used in spells. (Yes, yes, I know the 58th way, but I contend that it's just not practical to stuff a live cricket into someone's liver.)

In any case, I was summoned to Sister Aurora's house this afternoon, spending 15 minutes walking in the rain, being berated by my familiar continuously for not being willing to expend energy to magically keep her dry. 

There, I found Sister Aurora on the rooftop, looking for a ray of sunlight in a day that obviously would have none, and probably catching her death as well. I wonder about her cul....religion, and how much of it is people gaining a sense of purpose by making other people obey their every command.

Maybe I'm still bitter about her joining the Rays of Truth.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

So, the revelations entailed retrieving a statue that was going to be stolen from the cath Nortis', but Kinric took the initiative by having it stolen himself and replacing it, except that somebody stole it from him. I think that's about it, although quite possibly, somebody else stole something somewhere at some time. We're supposed to figure out who's got the real thing and get it back. 

Why? 

Because it's Uncle Kinric.

He's not our uncle, I say. I don't even know if he's a Champion, and if he's going to ask us to kill people, well, I've never wanted to be on the inside of an inquisitor cell.

Uncle Kinric said we should avoid casualties.

He's /not/ our uncle.

And so on. I feel like I've already failed Ginara in some way, by not picking up on her relations to Kinric earlier: I don't trust him, and his rationale of needing people to do this who aren't noticeable sounds to me like: here, you clumsy people, take the fall.

Anyway. So everyone looks at me, like I've spent today learning the "Fetch Statue, no, not the fake one, the /Real/ Statue" spell, or at least, the "Lhovrik as Living Divining Rod For What We Want" spell. Neither of those pop to mind, and so instead, we...

For some reason, this we includes Dove, Sister Aurora's  little sister, who by little, I mean, "maybe a bit small, but could easily kill us all where we stand", and this, well, other person: Malaiseia? Malaney? I keep on forgetting her name. I think I've seen her before when I was down at the docks with Balthrin. She fits the trampy entertainer niche quite well, it seems, although my sister seems to be friends with her, so I have decided to be suspicious and forget her name some more.

Focus! Only about ten minutes left before I should put this away.

We decide that we need to investigate, and rather than do this in a way which doesn't attract any attention, we decide to do it in a chaotic, mish-mash sort of way, where we all sort of descend upon the house, with sudden interests in ancient religious statues. Luckily, we're up against Mellor cath Nortis, who manages to make up for his stupidity with obliviousness. We find out that the halfling butler, and his gnome mage friend, are responsible, and shall go investigate tomorrow. I'm worried: we have no idea how powerful this mage is, and if the butler was at all suspicious, then we may be walking into a trap: and that's bad when you're dealing with mages.

My mood is really sour tonight. Part of its the weather, but part of me is really anxious: I knew that at some point, I'd have to...want to stop studying and go out into the world and well, do stuff, but why now? Why with people I care about? I don't care about this stupid statue, I just want the people I know to be safe.

But, Ginara shall not be dissuaded, so I guess I'll have to give a go at it: bribe the cat tomorrow to play nice, and find some sort of disguise. Maybe bleach my hair? I'd prefer to bleach the cat, but the last time she caught me mumbling about a cat trap, I had to be taken to the temple: the priest had never seen so many cuts on one person.

Goal for tomorrow: come home with two eyes, and one sibling. Small goals, but the devious ways of cats should never be underestimated.
-- Lhovrik

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This story hour is an adjunct to Cerebral Paladin's Story Hour. Differences between the two accounts can be settled according to one heuristic: Lhovrik's right.

Comments, suggestions, criticisms, and slaps to the face with raw fish are welcome.

--stu  

PS:  No real cats were harmed in the making of this diary (Stop hiding, Twombly, you're making me look bad!).

PPS: small edits, fussing, moving stuff around. Nothing to see here. Except, well, all the other stuff, that I'd like you to see.


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## themaxx (Mar 11, 2003)

*Hee hee*

The real question is: Who has more commas, Stu or Lhovrik.

I like it a lot, except for the abusing cats part. Good to finally get the story straight.....


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## themaxx (Mar 30, 2003)

update me! (like you have time)

heh heh


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