Where are we heading?

"The mountains of the world are obstructed by the hills of our own mind" - Great Ordinator Illien the Great in his Letters to a Better Man
 
Dear journal,
 
It's late in the night, and I can't really sleep. Again, right? I don't know what to say first. It's been a while since I've been so sure of myself. I want to do this. Take on the Desolation, learn, bend to this light that travels with us - I know it does - and emerge something better. Not new. I like me, Nutcase and all. But better.
 
And yet... It's hard. I know it's hard for me, and it's hard for everyone else too. We were challenged today. I know, in the morning it was horrid. But tonight was hell.
 
As you know, we had escaped from the shores battered and scared. We lost 10 good men, and we had awoken a lich lord. Naturally, our spirits were dampened. Like our bodies were dampened by this inescapable fog. Anyway, we were still arguing about where to go and what to do, when we heard a shout. We rushed outside, only to see one of our crewmen shaking on deck, surrounded by the others.
 
We soon found out what had happened. A black, hollow ghost pierced through the poor guy's body, it did not harm him physically, but it terrified him. I tried to sense what had happened to him. He was overcome by fear, but not a normal fear, a strong, overcoming fear, a fear that melts souls away. The fear of feeling the cold, dead hands of the lich-lord himself.
 
Tal - sorry - Pullius came to investigate as well. I found out our man was named Marc. It seems the ghost had flown away after sensing his lifeblood, probably stealing a small portion of it. Now the ghost could tell where Mark was - so, where we were.
 
Xebec decided to immediately settle this issue between ourselves, him, and Dillen, the first mate. In an hour, tops, before any decision would be useless. I have to say, I immediately sensed everything was going to go wrong. Because I had realized that, whatever we did, we could not sever the link between the ghost and Marc, unless we... killed Marc. And to many, weighing lives against one another feels like weighing grain at the market.
 
Dillen was one such person. Oh, yes. Dillen the dualist, who guides his life around rational severances of Good and Evil. One thing is Good, one is Evil. Both Good and Evil are equal, and opposite, and both compete in a world of both. As if Evil is something. No, of course not. Evil is the absence of something. But if you believe that Evil and Good are on equal footing, and that Evil is something, you can eradicate Evil... Ah, I won't comment more. I will actually make a copy of something else I wrote and put it here, for good measure.
 
So we discussed what we should do. The Lich could now find us. So we had to save ourselves. Or not. Obviously, I was against it. The others tried to go past the problem by talking about solutions on saving Marc from the... mark. I immediately proposed finding a good lifeforce-masking rune (I know for a fact they exist), I had the Gavan book on runes after all. The rest tried to find some other solutions, like Bart, I heard, proposed something on making Marc fight the ghost and try to recover his lifeblood. I think it was the best idea, but not feasible in a rush with someone like Marc, who had no idea about himself or the world. Maybe someone more inspiring than me or us all could have helped him. A priest, someone who can heal, really heal, not like useless ol' me.
 
Well, I couldn't focus on that anyway, I had to read through hundreds, thousands of pages and somehow find the right rune. What about the table of contents, Eve? Well, how about you tell the Gavans, dear journal, that a book on runes should find a way to NAME the runes in a way which makes it easy to understand what they do, and NOT after whoever mage INVENTED them............................
 
While I was searching in vain for runes, the others started raising the tone. I heard Dillen and Verfys the loudest. That Dualist rationalist was well-versed in showing why the crew had to survive over the life of Marc. More lives to be saved, a job well done. A tough decision, a horrible decision, but one that has to be made... Yes. I'm sure it sounds great. But not on this ship, not on this Ael Velle.
 
Maybe there are too many of us who are not really in this war.
 
Finally, I found the damned rune, it was long and complex, but feasible. I rushed to the others, who were still arguing around the captain's table. By that point they had brought in Marc, and Pullius had tried to ... talk to him? I don't know, I overheard something about Pullius liking steak. How can one man be so off everything at every single moment in his life!?!? We were trying to save a man!!! To further our course. Does he even know why we're here!? He's the Ionolian mage, I thought they'd teach him more about Purpose. They even have a ... nevermind. I'm starting to think all my admiration for Talion, in the early days, was based off this aura I had about the School of Magic. but maybe the School is bad.
 
I told them I had found the runes and wanted to rush to prepare them. But Dillen and Pullius were arguing about time, Dillen was mad we were wasting so much of it. I told them I needed at least an hour, they said it's too much, the lich will have plenty of time to send his minions towards us. They would be able to track us down if we didn't destroy their beacon - Marc - right away. Or de-mark him, I guess. These people... They can't admit we have to fight for the man's life?
 
Well, that's when Heron.......... Decided? I don't know. He simply undressed and said "Leave Marc to me, I'll make him want to get his lifeforce back". I just about had it. I had to power-read through a thousand pages and suddenly everyone was either murderous, ludicrous or downright losing their minds!!! Heron! The nice, quiet muscle-man whom I owed so much... Was now undressed and chasing the guy whose fate we had been pondering, all over the ship, clearly bent on giving him some kind of... treatment. It seems Pullius then tried to feel the will that had carved a piece of Marc's lifeforce out of him. And he felt that will. He figured he had found where the ghost was........ Obiviously, ghosts can't have will, since they're undead. That, dead journal, was the lich lord. Congratulations, Pullius, you just graduated the School of Magical Obliviousness. I can't. It's too much. I shut down my mind and simply went about to carve the runes in the wood of the deck, in front of the mess hall. Not before shouting at him. I felt bad after that. I think I treat him too harshly because I kind of ... It still hurts, ok? It all still hurts. And he just wants to show me how wrong I was for loving him. It hurts.
 
But wait! Verfys and Nixie and Bart started talking about third ways, again. Some kind of smaller boat, left behind, with Mark and us in it. I would carve the rune around the boat, and the rest of the crew would be safe. And we would... return to the ship after I finished the rune...? Because this way only we would be in danger. I got it, I really did. They didn't want to force the crew to suffer the consequences of their choice. I mean, it's a sensible thought to have. It's really bad I didn't have it. Once I decide on something... It's gonna happen. That's why I'm a bad person, bound to Nutcase-hell.
 
I hated myself for a second. But I still refused their solution.
 
I got back out, starting to carve runes on the deck. Bart had already brought the small boat, but I didn't know which to do: the boat or the ship? Where to place those miserable runes? As I was panicking over there, the others started shouting. We were all in front of the door to the captain's quarters. The crew had been summoned, and they were very briefly explained that Marc essentially was a beacon for an undead army, and so we had to either kill him and run, just run and wait for the inevitable, stay behind on a boat while the rest of the crew ran, or......... ahem.... fuck Marc in the ass - plastic representation of our fourth choice, done by Xebec.
 
I lost faith in our cause, for a second. Or more. What was going on...
 
The crew were rushed to vote, as everyone wanted to know as soon as possible what the outcome would be. Poor Marc was unsure what to do or say. I felt he wanted to be brave and sacrifice himself, but... Even if he accepted death... It was stupid. For us and for him. We simply had to stay and fight. No way beating around the bush.
 
The vote was overwhelmingly in favour of this. I was a little bit surprised, but mostly, very, very relieved. My brave Bart and good strong Verfys had lead the charge, showing their votes. I did the same, but you already expected that, dear journal. I think Nixie voted the same, though I still wonder what caused this decision.
 
Very soon after the vote, however, people got mad. Some kind of fear travelled through all of us. We realized that it WAS inevitable. The lich was coming. The air was thick, the fog was thick, the sea was thick as mud. Was it too late to turn back? Everyone pondered this question, I think. For a moment, I wanted to rescind my vote. I'm weak, and stupid, and mostly a hypocrite. Like how I was with Pullius. Leaving him, I could have waited. It looks like I didn't even love him. It looks like I'm just superficial... damnit, Eve! All these thoughts.... I hate them!!!
 
Focus on the problem.
 
So, everyone was scared. And Gerki the watchboy took action and struck Marc with an arrow. Suddenly, Xebec lashed at Dillen, who probably wanted this to happen, but surely didn't order Gerki or anything. Xebec now wanted Gerki dead, but the crew rallied around Dillen. Gerki was mad they were never explained what options they really had, or what the real situation was. They were all scared, deathly scared, and felt leaderless. I felt leaderless, too, but I knew what I had promised, what I felt and what I believed in.... I couldn't really get involved, I had to carve the runes... Lest we all killed each other before the lich even came.
 
And that almost happened, but Nixie and Verfys prevented Xebec from slashing Dillen into a million pieces, and Verfys saved Marc from a second arrow shot by Gerki. By this point, I have to note that everyone was in a mood only to fight each other. Pullius even shot an energy ball at Dillen, because his good friend the demon probably wanted to see how an energy ball looks like. No, it's not funny. I'm not in the mood for sarcastic remarks. I am an idiot. I should stop.
 
But it was horrible. I have to vent. I hated it. I hated how everyone became some stupid, dumb versions of themselves. Except Dillen, who was exactly what I expected him to be. The calculated, rational man. The smart boy. The reasonable guy. Yes. Well, I'm not reasonable, or smart, or rational, and I don't really like math, so no, not calculated.
 
As Verfys and Nixie held the crew together, they immediately realised they couldn't beat Xebec, or kill Marc (who was defended by us). Overcome with the panic that they couldn't do anything to escape the certainty of an attack, many ran and abandoned ship. Xebec yelled at them to come back and fight like men. He didn't really care for more. There was nothing else he would say to them. They reluctantly came back - they had nowhere to go anyway. I tried to yell some sense into them as well. Well, sense. Haha. Sense, Eve. I had no sense. I don't think I made any sense. I'm as convincing as a sack of turnips.
 
Eventually, we calmed down, and Xebec started giving orders. We were to reinforce the roof of the mess hall, while the strongest of us would guard the sides of the ship. Bart and I stayed near the main mast, ready to reinforce either side. We knew not what would come to get us, and were ill prepared. In heart, especially. And I count myself in it, too.
 
Poor Sylph. She's the only pure heart. And she's broken.
 
They came, soon, as night fell. The sky was filled with fog, but strange lights did glimmer amidst the vapors, from the ligthning storm unleashed by Nixie in the sky above. Bart and I hugged tight, like the cover of a closing book, heh. But not because we felt it could very well be our last hug. It was a hug of hope... Then... Something. Gerki shouted he saw a flying purple rock.
 
I felt chills down my spine. Flowing xenatine? It could only mean.... I had read about it, only two or three words, in a history book. Xenatine containing.... a soul. Could it be that we were going to fight one?
 
The rock erupted, and a huge, horrifying ghost formed above and around it. It gleamed purple in its eyes, but was dark and bluish, ragged and ethereal. It created a huge, purple sword in its hand, and immediately darted towards the roof of the mess hall, where Pullius and Nixie stood.
 
I don't know exactly what happened there, but I saw Xebec rush with the speed of light onto the roof and then felt a strange energy push the ghost back. Our captain fought with immense strength, no doubt aided by an artifact. But the ghost wasn't alone. Dozens of normal-sized black ghosts emerged from the mist to attack us. I tried to help Heron by lighting up his sword with arcanic fire, but.... I was so terrified of him... I tried to remember the exact feeling, the calmness I needed to invoke the arcane on the blade, but failed miserably. Useless-Eve.
 
Bart took me by the hand and lifted me up, then almost threw me up the roof. We both wanted to help, because there was a terrible battle going on on the roof between the huge ghost and our friends. As I went up, I saw Pullius rise in his transcendent form, throwing lightning arcanic bolts on the ghost. But the terrible spectre was, no doubt, the spirit of a wizard, for it could summon magic. A wave of shadow pierced through Pullius, and he fell immediately. By the time I was on the roof, he had risen on his feet, but was badly injured.
 
I saw it, the ghost. A horrible thing. I saw a man hanging by his xenatine stone, however. Drenizek, the drunk. What a wonderful man. I almost burst into tears. I could only imagine what that xenatine was doing to him. Xebec, Verfys and Heron all helped Drenizek pull the stone down and damage it, while Nixie kept hitting the ghost with her lightning. Oh, Nixie was.... scary. Genuinely. I heard about the power of the storm, and how mages can invoke it around them... but seeing an elf surrounded by those strong winds and lightning.... There was something awe-inducing in it. I had no time to haggle, though. The ghost lounged and hit several with his sword, including poor Nixie and none other than Dillen. I don't know how, or when, but I launched myself towards him, right hand trying to reach him. I felt he would die. So... I gave him life essence. I don't want to write about it, though. It's still foggy in my mind. Plus, I did little compared to the rest.
 
Our brave girls and men fought hard and took down both the ghost and then eventually the stone itself, which contained its soul. The stone shattered, creating a huge explosion which blew all of us away.
 
My back hurts. I had hit the floor when falling. But, you know, 4 men died.. It's not getting easy. It's getting hard. Very hard. My second thought, after mourning the loss of life, was: the Sylph. I rushed back in the hull, with Bart and the rest. She was there, terrified, sad, small. But strong. She somehow resisted. I felt she had endured pains greater than all of us. She told us it hurt. Can I express it? No. But the pain she had suffered somehow still lingered around her. I could just barely feel it.
 
Where are we heading?
 
Please, Almighty Lord, forgive us for our weakness.