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Following on from her experiences as documented in [[A Difficult Journey (short story)|A Difficult Journey]] and [[A Healing Process (short story)|A Healing Process]], this journal is a repository of vignettes around Rohese's struggle with post traumatic stress disorder and the formation of the Glimae'den Trust.
Following on from her experiences as documented in [[A Difficult Journey (short story)|A Difficult Journey]] and [[A Healing Process (short story)|A Healing Process]], this journal is a repository of vignettes around Rohese's struggle with post traumatic stress disorder and the formation of the Glimae'den Trust.

==A Letter Arrives==
On the 10th day of Eorgaen in the year 5122, Rohese received a letter from her good friend, [[Arenglae (prime)|Arenglae]].

<pre{{log2}}><div style="text-align: left;">
Dear Lady Bayvel,
After our last talk, I wish this letter were being sent in a lighter tone. Unfortunately, I write to you today because I have many concerns after witnessing what I have seen in the west.
I am not sure if you are familiar with the happenings here, but it would seem the Turamzzyrian Empire is expanding their borders with a new barony to the south of Wehnimer's Landing. That may not be so newsworthy, but what is is that the those who are settling this new barony are refugees, many similar to those settling in Ta'Illistim, and other parts of Elanith now. They already have lost much and are currently residing in an encampment, within tents, at the start of the winter months.
Along with that, not only are the majority of the denizens of the Landing against this new barony and its proximity to their town, it would seem there are Illoke who oppose it as well. At the behest of Alosaka, I stayed last night with him to aid and fight. I have never seen firsthand the consequence of war, and it was brutal... especially when the attack switched to focus on the imperial encampment.
I am writing to you today because much of what they had was burned last night in the attack... tents, supplies, so many things. People, as well. There was one woman who, although Alosaka was there and able to heal her, will suffer the trauma of what happened to her last night. Not just the burns, but the mental anguish as well. They need aid, and while I am sure the empire can provide it, I know we are capable of doing so, as well. For now, I will be staying here to help, but if there is anything you, or anyone else can do to aid, as well, it would go a long way, I am sure. So many have already started making moves to provide what they can here and back home, but more will always be needed. Thank you for taking the time to read this.
Sincerely,
Lady Arenglae Amalathia Illistim
</div></pre>

==PTSD==
Rohese lay in the dark and listened to the creaks and sighs of the house as it settled for the night. The familiar sounds were somewhat soothing but a rising sense of panic gripped her and she made fists with the bedsheets in a vain attempt to keep it at bay. It took all of her willpower not to whimper or cry out as visions of stricken families and memories of the refugee camps she had visited in the aftermath of the [[Talador]] atrocities flooded her mind. ''How can this be happening again!''
Mirkk stirred in his sleep next to her so she took the opportunity to rise as he shifted position. She reached for a robe to ward off the chill in the air and walked out into the Solar, closing the door of the bed chamber quietly behind her to avoid disturbing him. Pausing at her desk, she collected a few sheets of parchment, some ink and a quill, and headed downstairs in search of tea.
The embers glimmered like rubies in the hearth where Aavia had banked the fire for the night. With a quick stir and the addition of a few more logs, it wasn't long before the fire blazed again, casting a warm, ruddy glow around the room. A quick visit to the kitchen resulted in some freshly brewed tea and Rohese settled herself in the fireplace nook with the two resident cats for company.
Taking a deep breath, she re-read the letter from Arenglae. Feelings of despair and dread threatened to overwhelm her again but a few sips of tea managed to quell them. Earlier in the day, she had struggled to reconcile her thoughts on the situation and how best to deal with her friend's request for help. Mirkk's initial reaction had been to insist they go west and offer aid immediately. Her own, in contrast, was to run and hide and she felt ashamed. ''How could she explain that to him without losing his respect?'' Over the past few years, she had managed to come to terms with everything that had happened to her the last time she had worked with the displaced in the west. The horrors she had witnessed and experienced first-hand during her abduction had left her traumatised. It was only with the help and support of friends – of Ceyrin – that she had managed to recover and return her life to some semblance of normality. Her thoughts wandered to her husband asleep upstairs. ''Would he understand?''
Dipping her quill into the ink, Rohese began to draft a letter to her friend, pausing every now and then to frame her response without revealing her real fears and motives.
<pre{{log2}}><div style="text-align: left;">
Dear Lady Amalathia,
This is such distressing news. As you know, we are somewhat sheltered in the east from the vagaries of imperial politics so I was unaware of recent events across the DragonSpine. Why is it always the innocent who suffer at the hands of opportunists and power-hungry regimes with their expansionist agenda? I will, of course, do all I can to assist you with those who find themselves in this unfortunate position once again and will reach out to others to do the same. Should I be needed to come west and help in person, please do not hesitate to let me know but I am wary of involving myself fully at this point for reasons I will explain the next time I have the pleasure of seeing you.
In the meantime, do take care and I will be in touch again soon with an update of what I have managed to organise.
Your friend,
Rohese
</div></pre>
Folding the sheet of parchment and setting it aside, she reached for another sheet and began a second missive, this time with a little more ease.
<pre{{log2}}><div style="text-align: left;">
Dearest grandfather,
Thank you for your recent letter, it is still my hope to join you for the Feast of the Immortals as usual but I’m afraid I cannot speak for Mirkk as something has arisen that may prompt him to head west. Word has reached us of some unsettling developments that may require our assistance but I will share more of that when I see you next week. I know you will understand why I am wary to renew my diplomatic ties with the imperials and involve myself in their court politics once again.
Has there been any word of Ipsy? I understand from Mimini that there is some concern over her whereabouts. I do hope she has been found safe and well.
Fondest regards,
Rohese
</div></pre>
The letters written and her immediate worries laid to rest, Rohese then turned her thoughts back to Mirkk. She sipped at her tea and idly stroked one of the cats dozing alongside her as she pondered her next steps. ''How much, if anything, should she share with him?'' Given his current preoccupation with the search for Ceyrin, she was reluctant to burden him with it. Draining her teacup, she resolved not to add to his worries; she would deal with her inadequacies in her own way and hopefully find some answers when she was able to speak with her grandfather. Then there was the issue of her sister. The adjustments they had made to their daily lives in the light of [[The Reckoning (short story)|Poladra's threats]] were beginning to take their toll; Rohese missed the freedom of being able to wander the nearby woods in solitude.
The hours passed and Rohese sat with the empty teacup in her hand, watching the fire slowly die. Aavia appeared as dawn tentatively pushed back the shadows of the night that had left her mistress so melancholy. With a shake of her head and cluck of the tongue, she disappeared for a moment and returned with a blanket and a fresh cup of tea. Sharing a warm smile, she placed them both next to Rohese and set about her early morning chores without a word. When she returned to the hall sometime later to rebuild the fire, Rohese had disappeared, presumably to begin her day.

Revision as of 11:21, 16 December 2022

This is a creative work set in the world of Elanthia, attributed to its original author(s). It does not necessarily represent the official lore of GemStone IV.

Title: Catharsis

Author: Rohese Bayvel-Timbertree

First published on the 16th day of Eorgaen in the year 5122

Following on from her experiences as documented in A Difficult Journey and A Healing Process, this journal is a repository of vignettes around Rohese's struggle with post traumatic stress disorder and the formation of the Glimae'den Trust.

A Letter Arrives

On the 10th day of Eorgaen in the year 5122, Rohese received a letter from her good friend, Arenglae.

Dear Lady Bayvel, After our last talk, I wish this letter were being sent in a lighter tone. Unfortunately, I write to you today because I have many concerns after witnessing what I have seen in the west. I am not sure if you are familiar with the happenings here, but it would seem the Turamzzyrian Empire is expanding their borders with a new barony to the south of Wehnimer's Landing. That may not be so newsworthy, but what is is that the those who are settling this new barony are refugees, many similar to those settling in Ta'Illistim, and other parts of Elanith now. They already have lost much and are currently residing in an encampment, within tents, at the start of the winter months. Along with that, not only are the majority of the denizens of the Landing against this new barony and its proximity to their town, it would seem there are Illoke who oppose it as well. At the behest of Alosaka, I stayed last night with him to aid and fight. I have never seen firsthand the consequence of war, and it was brutal... especially when the attack switched to focus on the imperial encampment. I am writing to you today because much of what they had was burned last night in the attack... tents, supplies, so many things. People, as well. There was one woman who, although Alosaka was there and able to heal her, will suffer the trauma of what happened to her last night. Not just the burns, but the mental anguish as well. They need aid, and while I am sure the empire can provide it, I know we are capable of doing so, as well. For now, I will be staying here to help, but if there is anything you, or anyone else can do to aid, as well, it would go a long way, I am sure. So many have already started making moves to provide what they can here and back home, but more will always be needed. Thank you for taking the time to read this. Sincerely, Lady Arenglae Amalathia Illistim

PTSD

Rohese lay in the dark and listened to the creaks and sighs of the house as it settled for the night. The familiar sounds were somewhat soothing but a rising sense of panic gripped her and she made fists with the bedsheets in a vain attempt to keep it at bay. It took all of her willpower not to whimper or cry out as visions of stricken families and memories of the refugee camps she had visited in the aftermath of the Talador atrocities flooded her mind. How can this be happening again!

Mirkk stirred in his sleep next to her so she took the opportunity to rise as he shifted position. She reached for a robe to ward off the chill in the air and walked out into the Solar, closing the door of the bed chamber quietly behind her to avoid disturbing him. Pausing at her desk, she collected a few sheets of parchment, some ink and a quill, and headed downstairs in search of tea.

The embers glimmered like rubies in the hearth where Aavia had banked the fire for the night. With a quick stir and the addition of a few more logs, it wasn't long before the fire blazed again, casting a warm, ruddy glow around the room. A quick visit to the kitchen resulted in some freshly brewed tea and Rohese settled herself in the fireplace nook with the two resident cats for company.

Taking a deep breath, she re-read the letter from Arenglae. Feelings of despair and dread threatened to overwhelm her again but a few sips of tea managed to quell them. Earlier in the day, she had struggled to reconcile her thoughts on the situation and how best to deal with her friend's request for help. Mirkk's initial reaction had been to insist they go west and offer aid immediately. Her own, in contrast, was to run and hide and she felt ashamed. How could she explain that to him without losing his respect? Over the past few years, she had managed to come to terms with everything that had happened to her the last time she had worked with the displaced in the west. The horrors she had witnessed and experienced first-hand during her abduction had left her traumatised. It was only with the help and support of friends – of Ceyrin – that she had managed to recover and return her life to some semblance of normality. Her thoughts wandered to her husband asleep upstairs. Would he understand?

Dipping her quill into the ink, Rohese began to draft a letter to her friend, pausing every now and then to frame her response without revealing her real fears and motives.

Dear Lady Amalathia, This is such distressing news. As you know, we are somewhat sheltered in the east from the vagaries of imperial politics so I was unaware of recent events across the DragonSpine. Why is it always the innocent who suffer at the hands of opportunists and power-hungry regimes with their expansionist agenda? I will, of course, do all I can to assist you with those who find themselves in this unfortunate position once again and will reach out to others to do the same. Should I be needed to come west and help in person, please do not hesitate to let me know but I am wary of involving myself fully at this point for reasons I will explain the next time I have the pleasure of seeing you. In the meantime, do take care and I will be in touch again soon with an update of what I have managed to organise. Your friend, Rohese

Folding the sheet of parchment and setting it aside, she reached for another sheet and began a second missive, this time with a little more ease.

Dearest grandfather, Thank you for your recent letter, it is still my hope to join you for the Feast of the Immortals as usual but I’m afraid I cannot speak for Mirkk as something has arisen that may prompt him to head west. Word has reached us of some unsettling developments that may require our assistance but I will share more of that when I see you next week. I know you will understand why I am wary to renew my diplomatic ties with the imperials and involve myself in their court politics once again. Has there been any word of Ipsy? I understand from Mimini that there is some concern over her whereabouts. I do hope she has been found safe and well. Fondest regards, Rohese

The letters written and her immediate worries laid to rest, Rohese then turned her thoughts back to Mirkk. She sipped at her tea and idly stroked one of the cats dozing alongside her as she pondered her next steps. How much, if anything, should she share with him? Given his current preoccupation with the search for Ceyrin, she was reluctant to burden him with it. Draining her teacup, she resolved not to add to his worries; she would deal with her inadequacies in her own way and hopefully find some answers when she was able to speak with her grandfather. Then there was the issue of her sister. The adjustments they had made to their daily lives in the light of Poladra's threats were beginning to take their toll; Rohese missed the freedom of being able to wander the nearby woods in solitude.

The hours passed and Rohese sat with the empty teacup in her hand, watching the fire slowly die. Aavia appeared as dawn tentatively pushed back the shadows of the night that had left her mistress so melancholy. With a shake of her head and cluck of the tongue, she disappeared for a moment and returned with a blanket and a fresh cup of tea. Sharing a warm smile, she placed them both next to Rohese and set about her early morning chores without a word. When she returned to the hall sometime later to rebuild the fire, Rohese had disappeared, presumably to begin her day.