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Thick Buckled Journal
~ Big Blue ~

Introduction Page I am an Ogre, there are rules. You see it is not enough simply to be big and blue and beautiful such as I am, you must also be strong, mighty, mighty enough that your foes can smell it and feel fear. Fear not leetle Talsanra, Varushka will keep you safe.

The Open Road I fear this was a mistake. My fingers, they are cold. My ears colder. How I long for Mikhails warm soup, or one of Dorgrens stories. It has been one month since I set free my servants, sending them on their way with coin and warm clothings. I thought it was a good idea, that I would enjoy a life of adventure for a time. A foolish Ogress, I am. How I long for my old home, and its warm fire. How I miss it. Perhaps I will find a city soon. According to my map, there is one not far away...perhaps I will find something there that makes this bitter cold worthwhile.

Ishara What a fascinating city! I find myself currently warm, enjoying drink in something humans call a 'cafe' or some such thing. But oh, I am hungry. How I long for the taste of cattle. My soul cries out for food! These dry rations lost their taste long ago. Perhaps a farm is nearby...

Talsanra and the Slaver-Men I have met the most amazing creature. A young girl, she appears to be nothing more then a human child. But such wondrous power she displays... She created for me a cow to eat, out of thin air, and it was delicious! She then set fire to a ship, in the far distance, slaver's she said. Apparently in her world, the act of keeping slaves is not seen as a matter of course. I must remember this if I am to fit into her world. Soon after the ship went down, it became apparent not all of the slaver-men had perished. Some came to our quiet little cove in a small boat, chasing a slave that had escaped when the ship went down. While a part of me was reluctant to interfere in such a matter as slave reacquisition, I acted nonetheless, making them taste both ice and blade. Not characteristic of me to break Ogrish law so blatantly, I admit, but my new friend had it in her mind to free their slave, and I had fears that she would find herself overwhelmed by these slaver-men in such a confined space, that they would do much harm unto her. I could not allow that. There is something about the girl, who's name by the way, is Talsanra, that speaks to me. So powerful, she is, but so alone as well. No one to look out for her. No one to guide her. Full but empty. A feeling I know all too well.

Onward That night we ate. Though cold fingers caused me to act in a manner I now regret, nothing bad becoming of it save for some harsh looks from the ungrateful slave we rescued. But well enough. After that incident, and seeking refuge from the cold, I decided to move on to a friendlier environment. But not before speaking with Talsanra further. The kindness of this little girl is amazing, for she gifted me with much jewelry, of which I was most grateful. There was something else, too. Unexpectedly, I found myself fondled by invisible hands. I did not understand what was happening, only that it troubled me. Though a part of me enjoyed being touched, I felt it inappropriate and when I found she was the cause, I asked her to stop. Talsanra seemed confused as to why I was not pleased, and as we spoke, what she said troubled me. Though I know not what sort of people these 'friends' of hers are, I fear they may have taken advantage of her in the worst of ways. Or, at the very least, exhibited a complete lack of caring and compassion for her well being and sense of self. Regardless, I explained to her that I was not mad at her. Poor little creature, she simply did not know better. I then decided, using my questionable wisdom, that she should accompany me in my travels for a time. Thus it was, that the next day, we set sail for warmer climes, a place called 'The Isle of Fun'. Inviting name, no? We find ourselves a ship, having broken through the ice which had blocked in our ship, thanks to the magics of the ships mage, a tall, gaunt man, most ugly. Little Talsanra continues to show amazing potential. I have little doubt left in my mind, however, that she needs me.

The Call of War and my Sexuality I like to fight. I enjoy testing myself in combat. My pulse races, my heart beats faster, I run short of breath, the excitement is almost overwhelming. Sometimes I question if I enjoy it too much, if perhaps I am trying to fill a void in my life, a void in which I try to ignore but grows larger with each passing day. My own sexuality. I am a virgin. Not in body, perhaps, but in spirit. When I was younger, many choices were taken from me. It is not uncommon in my culture, or so I am told, for an ogress to lose herself to a man early. But there was something missing. The acts themselves were just that, acts, mere motions of the flesh. There was no spiritual connection, no mutual climax. Only lust as seen through a one sided mirror. I do not intend this passage to be a grim one. I do not lie awake at night, sobbing, nor do I feel as though I am ruined, a broken old maid. No, I am merely...confused. As I said, the acts were lacking. Lacking a spirit, a true passion between two souls. I do not understand my sexuality for I have never truly gotten to experience it. I have known no others of my kind, save my brothers and father. I had no mother to guide me. No sister. And the lesser of my kind, the 'hammers' as little Talsanra calls them, barely sentient. Primitive creatures, they bordered on animals. No, I have never had another to truly discover myself with. I have a virgin soul. What I do know about myself, leaves me with more questions then answers. I prefer the female form over that of the male, but is it because of sexual preference or merely because I have grown used to my own skin? I do not know. For my brothers, the answers were simple. I shudder to think where I might be had they not rightly grown to fear me. The acts they inflicted upon their slave-women sicken me to this day. Depravity at its worst. Perhaps they are the reason aspects of the male form disgust me? Unlike they, I have no answers. What does this have to do with the call to war? Simple. As I grew older, I was forced to fight. My father informed me if I must learn the art of war if I was to be a proper bride someday. And I was good at it. I enjoyed it. When our Clan clashed with others, and my brothers hid behind the lines, invisible and barking orders, I was in the thick of it. Cries of battle were screams of ecstasy, blood and sweat mingling on my body, an orgy of violence upon my flesh. War became my lover. A dangerous lover, much pain it caused me, much hurt, but oh, what joy and passion as well. Just thinking about it now... Forgive me. I seem to have lost focus. Now, where was I? Ahh, yes. I speak of all this, because of something which happened the day before, which I spoke of in my previous entry. Talsanra, using magics, began to rub me, massaging my shoulders, arms, and...my breasts with invisible hands. And it shames me to admit, but for the briefest of moments I thought to give in to my passions. It felt good to be touched again, and I was excited at the notion of exploring my spirit with someone. But she was too young, merely a girl. She had no passion, she merely desired to make me happy the only way she knew how. It was wrong. She reminded me of the slaves. I have owned many, and though I have treated them kindly, I never engaged in any overt sexual acts with them. Yes, I accepted foot rubs, massages, and the braiding of my hair. But these are simple things, acceptable amongst friends, not intimate acts between lovers. And while I admit on occasion I was curious for more, it was not my choice to make. They would have indulged me, of that I have no doubt. But it would not be a connection of love, but one of fear and compliance, no different from my brothers. For so long, I have craved someone that I can hold, that I can cherish. Man or woman, I never cared. Only that they were true to me. But I am afraid. In my soul, I have mingled lust of the flesh with a lust for blood. And it frightens me. When I share myself with someone, will I be gentle enough? Will I know a scream of pain from a cry of lust? A shudder of passion from a tremble of fear? These questions haunt me. But I have no answers.

My Sword I love my sword. Though it is not overly fancy, It is beautiful in its simplicity. Its blade is sharp, more then capable of rending flesh and bone. Its grip is like the caress of a spring breeze, familiar and comforting. It was made of ore mined by my slaves, and forged by Fozzrukk, a mighty ogre smith. Though I often speak less then kindly of my lesser kin, Fozzrukk was the exception. Powerful, wise, and cunning, he forged steel through strenth of both arm and will, and crafted me a true weapon. It is my lover in war. Strong. Dependable. Honest. True. It is an extention of my will. I love my sword.

Who am I? Who am I? I ask this question often as of late. I know that I am an Ogress. I am blue and beautiful, powerful and fearsome. Some fear me, others lust for my flesh. Many do both. But who am I? What am I in my soul? I shelter Talsanra from the truth of me. My self-doubt, my lust for war. I explain what I can, and hide the rest. She needs a guide, a mentor, a true friend. She must know that there is one person in her life, who without question, will be there for her when she needs it. She must know she not alone. But how can I be all this for her when I know so little of what the world is? I know only that her lonliness and confusion mirror my own, and that she must not experiance what I did. She must have a guide. But how can I guide her if I do not know this path myself? As a child I had no guide, only a taskmaster. I had no choices. My upbringing was one of strict lessons and harsh trials. Success was expected, not rewarded. Failure was met with swift punishment. Mercy and kindness were weakness. Love was forbidden. Talsanra must never experiance this. I will pity myself no longer. Somehow, I will guide her. I will give her choices. I will reward success and comfort failure. I will love her and protect her and keep her safe. Perhaps when the time comes, I will tell her of my past, I will tell her of my legacy. Perhaps I will tell her of the doubts that haunt me, of the fears I bury deep. Perhaps I will tell her of the slaves I kept and of the men I have slain in battle. Perhaps I will even tell her my true name. But not yet. Not now.

Arena The Isle of 'Fun'. Such a fascinating place. It is a place of diversity and tolerance, quite differant from my home, so far away. And there is a proving ground here...an Arena. Naturally, as soon as I heard tell of it, I made my way there. It was a welcome release. At first, anyway. I have fought two battles today, the both of them one after the other. The first was against a powerful Ogre, though one of lesser blood. Though brave, he was wild and reckless, no match for my magics. The second, I regret. Not for the battle itself, but for its effect upon Talsanra. My foe was a dark man, one who lacked both hygiene and honour. In all honesty, he did not raise my opinion of the male species. Nontheless, he fought well, using dark magics against me to cruel effect. However, Fozzrukks blade struck true, and his head was severed from his shoulders. And upon learning of the pain this man had caused little Talsanra, I was glad I spilled his final blood. Being the curious girl she is, she chose to probe his thoughts. but it did not go well. It seems he was a necromancer, and the cruelties of his mind troubled my friend terribly. I have done my best to comfort her, though I feel part of the fault of her pain is my own. I should not have brought her there. Too eager I was to test my own mettle, I forgot her own well-being. I must not make this mistake again.

Now, I know. I am Pau'ua Aroha Suune. I was a child without choices. I was a warrior. I was a queen of my people, and for showing kindness, I was thrown into exile. But I am blue and I am beautiful, I am powerful and I am fearsome. I am brave. And I will not be broken.

Bloodlines There are many Dragons here, on this island. Dragons of all colours. Mostly children, it seems. Talsanra has even befriended one! Dragons fascinate me, you see. They always have. And now, being here, surrounded by their kind, I find myself in something of a quiet awe. I even got to battle a dragon woman in the Arena. It was a quick battle, with her quickly gaining the upper hand, but in the end my strength was too great, and I defeated with with but a single blow. Varushka, victorious. I chuckle as I say those words. Long ago, my father once told me that the blood of the Dragon flows through our veins, passed down from generation to generation, and that it is the source of our strength. Perhaps, if this is true, it is the source of my magic as well. Regardless of its validity, I carry it with me. For if the Dragon is not in my blood, it is most certainly in my soul.

Polymorphing I am an Ogre, there are rules. Sometimes, however, I choose to disregard them. One of my favorite rules to break is the law of polymorphing. The decree of my father is that we must always use polymorph as a means to an end, that to use it for our own amusement is a crime and to be punished. Despite this, I have been practicing assuming shapes which serve no purpose other then to amuse me, and, I hope will provide Talsanra with some joy as well. My favorite being a little mouse with blue fur, and tiny white horns. Though she has not seen it yet, I plan to show her soon. As a brief footnote. I must remind myself to write of fathers rules in the future. Just in case I forget what they are. I would hate to forget what it is I choose to disregard when the mood suits me. Father would be so proud.

~ Sample ~ I am an Ogre, there are rules. You see it is not enough simply to be big and blue and beautiful such as I am, you must also be strong, mighty, mighty enough that your foes can smell it and feel fear. Fear not leetle Talsanra, Varushka will keep you safe.

~ Sample ~ I am an Ogre, there are rules. You see it is not enough simply to be big and blue and beautiful such as I am, you must also be strong, mighty, mighty enough that your foes can smell it and feel fear. Fear not leetle Talsanra, Varushka will keep you safe.