Journal Entries

[usestwohands]

Having been given a journal at the beginning of his journey, Drizzt has taken to writing in it on occasion, now that he's beginning to settle into the strange life that had befallen him on the train. Below are excerpts people may glimpse when they happen upon him writing somewhere.

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Guenhwyvar (a poem)

[usestwohands]

What eyes are these that see
The pain I know in my innermost soul?
What eyes are these that see
The twisted strides of my kindred,
Led on in the way of toys unbridled:
Arrow, bolt, and sword tip?

Yours...aye, yours,
Straight run and muscled spring,
Soft on padded paws, sheathed claws,
Weapons rested for their need,
Stained not by frivolous blood
Or murderous deceit.

Face to face, my mirror;
Reflection in a still pool by light.
Would that I might keep that image
Upon this face mine own.
Would that I might keep that heart
Within my breast untainted.

Hold tight to the proud honor of your spirit,
Might Guenhwyvar,
And hold tight to my side,
My dearest friend.

- Drizzt Do'Urden (Homeland, R.A. Salvatore)

Purpose

[usestwohands]

It is a concept with which I have struggled ceaselessly since I was first able to grasp its meaning. In the halls of my people, purpose is a clear thing to them, the purpose of existence is power, to strive for it, to breath it, and to eventually be consumed by it, though I doubt it is something they recognize in themselves. Power has never been something to which I have striven, and I could never, as my people do, sacrifice another for the sake of my own gain.

I found my purpose behind a wall of blades. Their movements have always comforted me, and it is at practice or action that I feel the most calm. The blade does not deceive, judge, or sin. The blade is honesty, integrity, and to wear it was armor is to never doubt your protector. It become one with it, is to become your own savior. It was my purpose for much of my childhood, and it still serves that role today. When I was taught the truth of my beliefs, introduced to my goddess and shown that her morals were in fact my own, I rejoiced, but I still had not found a purpose, a calling to which every fiber of my being might harmonize.

When Mooshie bayed me with his dying breath to do out into the world and find my place, I knew not where to search. Mayhap it is why the Train has found me. I admit, it was with some trepidation I faced the task they set before us, but the laughter of that last night, the joy and the peace that descended upon that island in the wake of their hardship proved what we do is Good. It is Right.

Being a Trecker? This is a purpose that sings with my heart. I pray we can bring this peace to other worlds.