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Alaric Journal

Things are falling apart around us. Chased from our home by the Fafnir’s. Sheltering with the least loved Rogalian lord in existence, Lord Xavier Rennet.

Things seem pretty dire. My companions show more and more strain against our situation, plus nothing seems to be falling our way.

The death of Brenna of the forgotten weighs heavily on my soul. I cant help but feel the wrong charismata died saturday night of forum. I was duty bound by my allegiance to Gotha and the church to side with Sir Baldwin, but I cant shake this feeling. Not only is the good knight not good or worthy of following, his pushing of Brenna in the situation guaranteed the outcome. Add to the situation that unkillable fallen paladin Lucien and the entire situation was just a nightmare. In the end by the actions of others, Brenna fell and was declared anathema. In that moment she had to be put down. But everything to that point wasnt her fault. It was Baldwins, it was Luciens, and it was Ragnar’s. I do feel bad for the barzark, knowing that with his advice he caused the fall of a friend, and ultimately was forced to take her life.

I think my anger stems from impotence. I could do nothing to stop the fight, nothing to bring it back from the brink. Charismata dueling is like monsters clashing, everything around them injured is merely unintended casualties. Did I do enough by simply protecting the various innocents from being slaughtered during this clash of titans?

Shouldnt that be a good enough job by a mortal like me?

Then why cant I sleep.

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The Ruins Of Sistegrad

Awhile ago at court it had been an easy choice. The Knight Fenris wanted an enemy encampment gone, The fire guild had agreed and no one at court had spoken. Motion Carried. Deed done. Clean and efficient. If only all warfare could be done this easily. What a terrible thought.

Standing in the ruins of Sistegrad its hard to not remember what an easy decision it had been. Point on the map at the thing you want gone. Except it wasnt gone. Not by a long shot. As we approached in the darkness the ruins glowed with eerie unnatural light. The ground under our feet crunched, breaking under our weight. Like standing on a breaking pane of glass. The magic is so heavy in the air its like breathing poison as it warps everything around. Giant crystals of condensed glass pulsed with green and red light, the last things left standing.

We came to what was probably a courtyard at some point. 5 of the pulsing crystals arrayed around, and standing amidst the armageddon, 3 humanoid figures. We called out to them but they acted as if we were not there. As we got closer, we realized they were made of the same glass as everything around us. Two of the earth mages in our party began there investigation. The moment one of them began speaking their special incantation, the glass men immediately tried to chase the mages down. The mages were able to stay away from them, making their signs, enraging the malefic further. I grabbed one by the shoulder, speaking to it in a calming manner. It never noticed me, but as I held on trying to stop it from attacking the earth mages, I noticed that its glass skin was straining and cracking under my grip. I released it so I wouldnt harm the spirit further. Eventually after the mages had stopped casting for long enough they stopped aggressing and simply went back to wandering around their former home.

Nothing is alive in Sistegrad anymore. An entire town of men, women, and children erased because of its strategic position.

How many more towns will be annihilated like this for this war?
And how in Benalus’ name am I supposed to help bring these poor spirits to rest.

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A *simple* test of silver

What are you supposed to do when confronted with the fact that you can no longer trust the best of your heroes. What can you do when some of the most important figures heading a war are so thoroughly compromised that there’s just no way you can trust their judgement. What can actually be done when the nobility itself isnt even human anymore.

I am terrified of what the future holds. A man with the authority to speak with the emperors voice is under the compulsion of a vampire who is dumb enough to admit what it is? What even is going on. How could it get worse? Oh wait. The Eparch actions speak to being under the same control, and we already know that one of the fire mages is under its spell as well. Realistically at this point the entirety of the Grym is completely compromised by whatever malevolent spirit is running around in the corpse of the Lady Dressler.
How in the absolute fuck did it come to this?

It had actually been a pretty spectacular night. My first foray into archeology had been a massive success. Just in time we discover a weapon capable of hurting a witch, who this deep into the cycle of the aulfander is nearly impossible to wound? Then we go and disrupt a meeting of heretics and Alu himself retreats, wounded by the weapon we found? A major success against these heretics was won, and we returned to the tavern to celebrate our success with drinks and stories and boasts.

We had known about the accusation of Dressler being a vampire. Quill had told us as much while skirting an obvious compulsion. The markgraff had been told and ordered us to investigate. quietly. Determine the truth and report back. As someone interested in the path of combating and resolving malefic this right up my alley. By pure happenstance 2 different rogalian experts on vampirism had come to the city. A basic test of silver was proposed to expose the truth. It had even been suggested at court but shot down. *by the eparch*

So that night, reveling in our victory, when the Lady Dressler appeared, and took an offered seat directly to my right at the head of the table, It seemed like moment was perfect. The very stars aligned to make it possible even. Our own miners had freshly mined silver in its purest form. An easy space to make a quick plan presented itself as the Lady engaged with Sir Sven to her right. They seemed engaged in compelling conversation and I saw my moment to motion the newly branded Sigi to my side. A quick command. Silver carefully brushed on the ladys skin, made to look purely accidental as a slightly inebriated njord navigated the crowded space behind the seated noble lady. I watched a minute later as the plan happened perfectly. A small space, an accidental bump. The *fraction* of a second that her mask dropped as i saw the faintest smoke rise from the creatures skin. Ill give the monster credit, for It quickly regained its composure. I laughed at some inane joke Sir Logain on my left was making at the time. I dont know if we sold it as entirely accidental, but I have to say that in the following moments, everything felt organic enough that it could have been just an accidental brush, and that no one had seen it.

At this point I have to say, I was feeling damn proud of myself. Task after task had been successfully completed this forum, and this was just another job done well. I went back to joking with my friends. Drinking and talking of our success in the field that night, our goals for the future. We had already invited the leader of the caravans to dine with us the next forum, and I figured why not make it a party. Put the Lady further at ease and make us seem friendly enough before what I assumed would be an eventual violent confrontation somewhere in the future. I was so caught up in my success I failed to hear what had happened only two seats to my left. As I invited the lady to dine with us the following forum disaster struck. Or more properly, Sigi.

Apparently the newly branded man had been busy having a quite conversation with Sir Logain, our new archibald provided vampire specialist. These two apparently decided what better time to try to *KILL* a vampire was when it was surrounded by everyone drinking and eating and relaxing. Even I was caught completely unprepared. I dont even recall seeing Sigi get behind her again. I just saw his fist and a flash of silver and then everything went absolutely sideways.

The vampire obviously on edge from the earlier brush easily intercepted Sigi’s attempted sneak attack.
Before anyone else could act the eparch had placed Lady Dressler under her protection and rushed her from the tavern.
They hid the vampire in the grym cabin. At this point I had moved to engage. Backup would be coming. If we could keep her from escaping the hunter would be able to have a shot still. The eparch angerly blocked my way admonishing me for wanting to kill the monster. Then ordered me on a fools errand to find the inquisitor. As if he would have cared about something that has nothing to do with heresy.

The situation ended up as a standoff. Lady Dressler talking to Sir Logain surrounded by half the damn forum. Explaining how she is somehow a good vampire and not responsible for the spawn. Anyone with knowledge of the creatures has rolled their eyes when I repeated that line to them.

I go over the sequence of events in my head, replaying it, trying to gather the most important details for a record. I have no doubt my actions tonight will come into question with both The Lady Vindicta and Mother Amelia. The situation is a terrible one. The knowledge is out and the rumors are already starting. Its going to be imperative to regain control of the narrative before it spins out of control. I have some ideas there but am in no way as expert of the ways of rumors.

Im terrified of what the future holds. If you had asked me before this had happened I was optimistic of the future. But now, not knowing who to trust, im terrified.

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Victor Journal Entry #4

“Where in the name of anything that’s holy is my damn charcoal” fumed Victor as he began to stoke the fires of the smelter. He was starting to understand why Old Erik had always been such a miserably unpleasant person during his own apprenticeship. “Micheal!” he yelled for his own apprentice who hurried over. “Where is the rest of the damned coal? We should have plenty more to get us through the coming month, but its gone!” The young njord failed to meet his teacher’s eye as he replied, “I…uh.. may have left it at the basilica when I dropped off the feastware during forum.” “Go get it, “ Victor responded. “We have far too much to accomplish right now.”
The young man scurried off on his task. Victor could hardly blame the young man for misplacing things currently. The loss of his coin pouch still irritated him to no end. How could he have been so fucking stupid to simply leave it at the table. What could have possibly possessed him to simply walk away from his own money in a tavern full of strangers. His own anger was palpable. It was one of a few terrible instances of a busy forum.
As the fires of the smelter grew and readied themselves for their evenings task he absentmindedly rubbed his aching sternum. Somewhere in the confusion of night after the feast he had been shot. The pain still hasn’t subsided. What bothered him the most was that he couldn’t even remember being shot. His friends had told him that he had been trying to kill Ragnar. It *had* been awhile since he had last gotten blackout drunk in a fight. What had stuck in his mind was the absolute psychotic way the hollowsong men had fought. They had been such terrifyingly capable fighters, and he was not looking forward to facing them again.
The last forum hadnt been all bad though. Sure, he had lost some money, and spent even more, but being named master of ceremonies for the all-thing was an honor for sure. Being named co chair for master of coin even more so. The co- part of the arrangement was worrisome, but not an impossible task.
The fires were finally ready. “Yup, not a terrible time after all” Victor said to himself. He looked at the three rocks, flecked with gold, shining in the light. “In you go,” he said to rocks as he placed the crucible into the fires. When his friends said the grey company was bringing in more miners, Victor had known things were going to get so much easier. Being handed more gold then he had ever seen in his life the final morning of forum had made a stressful event a resounding success.
Perhaps he could actually become one of these dragon merchants outstretched on piles of gold that the church always rallied against. The thought was both amusing and highly entertaining.

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So a priest and a paladin go to a bar…

Late at night finds Adrian sitting in one of the booths in the Stoic Swordsman next to a crackling fire. An unfinished mug of ale keeps him company while he peruses a tome, waiting for his meeting to start.

The door to the tavern opens slowly, framing a white robed figure who casts a few nervous glances around the tavern before noticing Adrian. Lysander slowly approaches the table, pleasant, if practiced, smile on his face. The young paladin raps his knuckles on the table a few times before sitting down, “Good evening, Adrian.”

“Ahh, Welcome to my office good sir. I’m glad you’ve come. Can I order you a drink while we wait for Brother Ansel?” he says with a cheery smile on his face as he slowly closes his book.

“That would be lovely, thank you.” Lysander replies, leaning his sword on the table, “I’ve not been here before, how is the ale?”

“Safer then the water, probably.” Adrian catches the waitress’ attention with a quick wave and soon enough there is another full mug at the table. “I was hoping we could figure out a way to deal with the maelific when she shows. I know at last forum I was somewhat incorrigible on the topic. Im hoping we can have a semblance of a plan for when she returns, because based on how she spoke to me during our meeting with Percival, I believe shes going to come back, and is going to probably be angered by something and start spreading fire around.”

“Start setting fires?” Lysander thinks for a moment, “She did have those burns last time we saw her…” He glances over at his sword, in particular silver chain hanging just below the pommel, “I’d hoped to find some people willing to marry before she returned. An eager engaged couple to symbolically resolve the malefic,” Lysander looks back at Adrian, “unfortunately, given recent events not many people are feeling festive enough for a wedding.”

“So the one thing that was different is that last forum she actually spoke to me. The first time we encountered her, she was completely nonverbal. Im wondering if it might be possible to find out who killed her if she’s willing to speak of it. Im sure doing so would enrage her, but it might be possible to actually give her justice?” He finishes his ale in a deep gulp. “Downside, i’m pretty sure anyone else nearby would quite crispy as she became emotional.”

Lysander takes a small sip of his drink, “Her willingness to talk to you is good. I am not sure how comfortable I am with you risking your safety to engage with her, but we may not have a choice.” He sets his mug down, gently tapping his fingers along the side, “Did she appear before you last forum? Or was it more of a voice? If you’re able to choose where you have your conversation it would allow us to minimize risk of collateral harm.”

“She spoke to me without appearing. She mentioned wanting to have our ‘wedding night’ and how happy she was going to make me. I’m not worried about her. I don’t think she can actually harm me. And as for others, I have this.” He slides across a sealed bottle filled with an opaque red liquid.

Lysander sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Adrian what is that?”

“Something to insure whoever drinks it doesnt feel the heat. I managed to purchase it from a, how shall we call it, a disreputable source.” Adrian smiles coyly, motioning for the waitress to refill his drink.

“So it’s Mortal Gluttony, gotcha.” Lysander looks back up at Adrian, “I must insist that you not use that.”

“Ohh it’s not for me. It sort of dropped in my lap and I figured it would be good for anyone else to have in case things get a little.. Out of control.” He pauses for a sip from his mug. “Ideally we won’t need it, but I would rather someone use it to survive the encounter rather then die because of a maelific we are trying to help.” Adrian reaches out across the table and grabs the potion, pocketing it.

Ansel emerges from the back room of the tavern, his robe and tabard stained with dirt and blood. Most of the patrons don’t seem to be put off by his appearance, but a table of Capacionnes breaks into a mix of snickers and looks of either pity or disgust. The priest makes his way over to his friends, while setting out his mug in anticipation of the server. “Thank you for waiting for me, I had some business to attend to…” he trails off. “Have you come up with a solution for your lost bride yet?”

Lysander raps his knuckles on the table again at Ansels approach, “It’s good to see you, Ansel. Not yet,” he nods towards Adrian, “We were just discussing what we currently know and can expect.”

Adrian nods and smiles as Ansel sits down with them. ”I’m glad you could join us. As I was telling Lysander here earlier at last forum she didn’t appear to me but she did speak to me. She spoke to me about having our “wedding night.” The fact that she actually spoke to me when previously she was completely nonverbal has me wondering if I could gently ask her about what happened to her. Maybe find out enough to take revenge on the one who took her life.” He pauses briefly before continuing. “Lysander, do you still have the ring from last time? I may need it again.”

The templar furrows his brow. “How did she speak to you? As if in a dream? Or just a voice in your head? You say she was killed. How do you know that? Do we know who her betrothed was or what fate befell him? Do we know if she was buried? What would you do with the ring? What did it do for you before?”

Lysander gestures to his sword, “The ring is hanging from the chain. I’m afraid that I can’t remove it, otherwise the ritual will be undone. Currently, we don’t know anything about her other than her relation to fire. But even that may just be symbolic. We’d need to ask her more questions first. Or maybe do some research on her, but we don’t have a name.”

Adrian pipes back in, “Not having any information at all makes it really difficult to start anywhere. I may be able to get some basics figured out, but it’s not a sure thing that I would be able to do so this next forum. As for the ring, I was thinking of just giving it back to her. Proposing to her with it was what actually calmed her down in our initial encounter. To answer your question, she spoke directly into my mind, as if by magic. I know its probably your least favorite option, Lysander,” he gestures to the paladin, “But im not entirely unopposed to actually marrying her if it’ll help the poor soul find rest. I’d like to pursue some form of revenge on her behalf first, but as a method of resolving her, I would do it.”

The paladin shakes his head, “Marriage is more than just a ceremony. It binds souls together. You would be tying yourself to her on a deeper level than I can possibly convey.” He clasps his hands together in front of him, “It’s not an option I can allow. You’d be sacrificing your soul. I’m sure there’s another way.”

Ansel chimes in, “Last season you waited for her, hoping she would be drawn toward the flame you were tending ceremonially. I think this next forum you should seek her out. Find a couple that is willing to be wed… I’m sure Adrian knows half the city and should be able to find someone who is ready… and take them to the Atopos. Marry them using the ring. That’s my idea. Or… Lysander… have you sworn an Oath of Chastity? It is a vow of love that is often taken in lieu of a wedding. I wonder… if you were willing… to swear one to her?”

“I haven’t, no,” Lysander replies, “It’s an option. But I don’t think it would be enough. And besides, my heart wouldn’t be in it.” He wraps his hands back round his mug, “I think finding couples willing to be wed would be best. Taking them back to Atopos wouldn’t be difficult, I’m sure I could find it again.” Lysander looks up at Adrian, “Would you be willing to put the word out? Find us a couple who wants to be wed of their own volition, and who’d be willing to use their union to lay a spirit to rest?”

“Im sure I can probably rustle up a few people willing to tie the knot,” Adrian replies quickly. “The issue becomes timing. If she shows up in the forum im not sure ill be able to break away from her long enough to get our perspective lovers to us quickly enough. Plus I worry for their safety, if things go wrong she gets angry quickly, and it’s a little bit unpleasant to experience.”

“I’m not sure you’re listening, Adrian,” Ansel begins. “We’re talking about taking the couple to the center of her haunting, the Atopos. The nuptual couple won’t be around or at risk until then. But… you do make a good point that we need a way to protect them. She shoots flame? What kind of protection are you using, Adrian? I don’t generally advocate the use of magic, but this seems like a supernatural problem that warrants supernatural solutions.” The eparch looks pointedly at the new Nightwarden as he says the last.

“I think that, so long as we are careful, she will not attack us. It seemed that she generally wasn’t aggressive so long as we didn’t outright antagonize her.” Lysander hesitates, “But… I am also worried for anyone we bring along. She didn’t outright throw fire, she just made it feel like we were surrounded by it. It starts with a feeling of dread, and if the course of action is continued, you start to burn.” The paladin absently rubs the leonem around his neck, “I’d partaken in the daily bread just before we left. I think that the blessing is what kept me safe. We could offer it to the couple as well.”

Adrian nods. “Ill see if I can drum up a few interested individuals for this. Do you have any idea when you would want to go out and try to marry them?”

Lysander takes a moment, sipping from his mug before responding, “Next forum, preferably. I’ll have to think on it more, but I’ll let the two of you know when I figure it out.”

“Cheers than!” Adrian stands up grabbing his cloak and the tome. “I better get this back to university before Azzam realizes its missing. You two have a wonderful evening!” He slams the remainder of his ale, winks, and turns to leave.

“I’d best be off as well. It was good to see the two of you again. I’ll get in contact once I’ve figured out a time.” Lysander finishes his drink and reaches out his hands to pat the other two, “Stay safe!”