Category: Journal Entry

Rowan’s hands cupped my face, “Your not going to leave me to do this on my own, are you?”

The gesture was heartbreaking.

Grabbing her hands into mine, I couldn’t help but respond with the harsh truth, “I have done it alone long before you’ve arrived, if anything happens to me I fully believe in you.”

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Java’s feet kicked in the creek as she thought back on that night, the water still touched by the chilly remnants of the winter. The sharp bite of cold felt good on her skin, a reminder of how strong she is even in the recent darkest of days.

How strong everyone has been becoming.

The turn of the season only bringing redemption and favor.

“So, Java. This one wyrd touched?” Ormhildr held up a fresh caught salmon for her to look over. He was a funny old man, always insisted she minded herself and care over Ura and Jorg as a priority. But recently shes felt compelled to visit her neglected ward.

Yes he could take care of himself, but as her eyes looked over the fish they drifted, now focusing only on his marred hand. His thumb and first finger all that was left.

“Looks fresh and healthy to me.” She gave him a nod, then looked back over the rippling water and nature that was blooming with the colors of Spring.

The fish was flopped into the basket between them and he recasted his line, “It’s not yer fault, y’know that.”

She always shy’d away from this subject. In truth it was her fault, she was the one who held the knife. She who was ordered to remove a finger for each time she had refused to cast for Marzana, three times to learn this lesson. Yet here he was always comforting her and calmly reassuring her like a grandfather would.

“There’s a Rogalian noble house at Runehiem. You should see the shade of purple they wear.”

“Royal color, eh?” He let out a low husky laugh, he was never bothered by the changes in subjects. They’ve had the conversation often but the wounds have long been healed and forgiven.

“They brought vampires with them…”

All Ormhildr ever wanted was a good story when she was around so for the next hour she gave him a dramatic re-telling of the vampire in the monestary, the mind controll, the battles. The entire time she spoke his eyes were closed and a small smile on his face as if he was watching the entire scene play out in his mind.

“They’re okay now” she had just finished the part of the story where she had acted against them during the battle against the vampires, “well maybe not Damian, but hey I’ve given the nobles an abundance of gifts as an apology. I think they thought I was going to give myself up to Marzana or something.”

The fishing line tensed but he wasn’t acting on it, “Why would they think that?”

Turning towards him, his gaze hard set on her, a worn look of pain, misery, and worry written all over him.

“Because she’s back.”

The two stared at eachother, reading the small expressions on eachothers face, a silent conversation being held between the two.

Marzana was back, with horns, the usual dying of constant hunger for power, and now as of recently an ultimatum for Java.

“So the Vulgaris are a group of rogue mages,” Java broke the silence again shying away from the risk of a truth she couldn’t yet face, not infront of him.

Ormhildr’s brows furrowed but released quickly, his demeanor returning to his usual self. A new line casted for the next fish.

“They messed a friend up pretty bad, so I returned the favor. Of course that led to an invitation and right as we were getting ready to deal out magic justice, they opened their mouth and I became a fool. A quick witted and charming Gothic, can you even believe that?”

The laughter that came from him, warmed her and settled the nerves that were acting up and only encouraged her share her stories with him.

Spring is a time for redemption and favor.

The agent of House Drake, Lord Gilbert Drake, stared at me in the tavern, blanketed in an aura so smug it was almost physical. Perhaps it was some sort of new fire magic the degenerates in Torchgutter had developed.
“Give me the unit of mages under your command, Sir Lorain,” the pompous second son of the likely related said.
”No.”
”I do not like being told no. It makes me angry,” he said.
”No one likes being told no Drake, but no. Fuck off.” I told him.
Sir Dipshit Drake then proceeded to unleash a flood of magic against me, and only my reflexes saved me. I felt the heat of the flames brush my skin, damn near leaving me sunburnt. I watched Java rise from her place at the table with a look of unadulterated rage on her face.
”No you don’t!” She shouted, forming arcane signs with her hands as Drake attempted to follow up his first attack.
Nothing. Apparently her efforts had cut him off. I went for my blade but the weasel proceeded to run while yelling insults and threats. I let him go so that I might return to my feast in progress and finish compiling the latest orders for aunt Tahliya.
”I’m gonna need your support when they inevitably come back causing trouble,” Java said.
”You have it,” I told her. “I won’t let the worm get away next time.”
The next morning I arose to hear my name shouted by a vaguely familiar voice. I was newly rousing and headed to do my morning business when I saw Hans, the mentor of the fire mages. Before I could reply to him, he unleashed a flurry of magic on me, dropping me to the ground. My bodyguard, Butch, the lovely man that he is, saw it was time to intervene, and struck Hans. Unfortunately, Hans had wrapped himself in vile fire magic, causing a retributive strike on Butch, dropping him as well. Hans turned to me, and stopped my bleeding.
”Give me those fire mages you refused to give Lord Drake,” he shouted. “This is guild business, not noble matters.
Little did Hans the obviously insane know, he had just made it noble matters by assaulting me.
“I would have been more than happy to hand them over had blanket demands by a rival faction of my homeland not vaguely demand them and then attack me. You knew these mages were in the forum and under my command. Communication is key, Hans.”
He threw another fucking fireball at me.
Thadeus pulled me off the floor, and had he been armed I would have insisted we strike the villain down then and there, after all, Butch had gotten quite close and triggered whatever contingency he had in place. Java and Sygrun saw to Butch, and we both rose. Dr. Heimr, the saint of a man he is, started seeing to my healing getting me back on my feet.
As I recollect these events to keep them clear in my mind and for posterity in case the mad dog seeks me out again, I prepare the letter I will be sending home. A noble agent of House Drake had struck me publicly. We may not be in Rogalia where the Pactum Domini reigns supreme, but damages would be claimed, or I would claim Gilbert’s life blood.
As for Hans Flamehand, mad dog of the fire guild, when a good animal goes rabid, you don’t keep it alive for the sake of the hard work it had done previously, you do the humane thing and you put it down. A fucking peasant struck me with his sorcery, and this would not stand. Let’s see how your magic stands against the laws of the emperor, Hansy boy.

It appears that this Alu isn’t the only problem in the area. It appears that my compatriot is plagued by an entity that appears to mean to do harm to the people around them, and also there seems to be a vampire roaming about. While I believe both of these to largely be distractions to the Throne’s main goals, they do seem to be serious threats.

The entity plaguing my compatriot seems to make them lose control of their abilities. This was kept under control by keeping them suppressed for most of market. But, as could be surmised, a wizard that needs to be constantly suppressed is not a particularly effective wizard. My concern is they seem to have a thirst for knowledge that is outside of their control at their current capabilities. It isn’t uncommon for our kind. Mages are notorious for not being able to control their urges for knowledge, but the smart ones are able to pull themselves back before their urges consume them. I hope that my compatriot can learn their limits.

The vampire apparently took over a Cyanahim monastery. Apparently the monks all became pawns of the vampire to help the vampire in some ritual. The unfortunate part is a number of mages and a knight of House Dragomir visited the monastery and similarly fell under the thrall of the vampire. Foolish lot. They fully knew there was a vampire in the monastery before stepping foot in it. Hopefully the affliction they were under passes.

There was some progress made with this Alu character. He was being burned by the Inquisition, but somehow he was able to turn into a ghost and escape final death in the purifying flames. He was also able to turn the town against each other seemingly by harnessing feelings of hatred. I did meet one of the Inquisition who works with House Drake. I must meet up with her and discuss if there is anything that can be done; if there has ever been something like this to have happened. For someone to be able to escape the Purifying Flames is chilling.

Lastly I was ordained as a priest under the order of Nuraniel during market. While I always thought I would some day enter the priesthood, I did not plan for it to be so soon. However, after seeing the state of the operation in Njordr, I felt I could be of more use not just as an agent of the guild, but also as a member of the church to help with the rampant problem of Malefic. While places of war are always going to have an excessive number of malefic, it appears that the meddling of heretics has increased this number. I am happy to help in any manner I can that the Guild can be more efficient, and the Throne can focus on their goal of winning Njordr. Also the only way to defeat the forces of darkness is with the light of God and Benulus, and the Church is only strengthened by an increase in it’s numbers.

After getting settled into Runeheim, I have found a surprising lack of progress in the theatre, even within the town proper. Between the rampant exploitation creating a population of people who have become actively hostile to the Throne and the explicit displays of heresy and the roaming of droves of heathens, it is hard to see what the Throne has done. It appears that the Church is trying to refocus their efforts on lowering the scum population. Hopefully these efforts are swift so that the Church might turn their attention to shining light in the dark recesses of Njordr.

The other wizards in the area are….interesting. The mages in the Earth Guild seem like an outwardly unfocused group. One seems very naive and one seems like magic is only tertiarily related to their interests. However, one of their number seems very focused on their guild’s goals, and therefore not forthcoming about some of the stranger goings on in the area. In particular there were some rumblings of Clan [redacted] being boxed in and dying of a mysterious disease. They claimed to know nothing about it, but there was something in their voice that made it appear they knew more than they were letting on. Anyway, it seems two of their number would like an amount of cooperation between the guild to take care of miscellaneous magical responsibilities in the area. I am willing to go along with it to the extent that it helps fulfill shared interest, but not to the extent of forming an alliance. Agreeing to ally with other magic guilds is tantamount to agreeing to be exploited.

I am troubled by the reputation of the fire guild in the area. Apparently the previous cohort of fire mages were a disaster to deal with. This has caused myself and my current compatriot to be looked upon with a greater amount of suspicion. This will make it harder to work in the area as we will have to do some work appeasing the populace to gain some good will, lest we be blocked from our duties by endless questions and gatekeeping. It is good that my coworker in this area seems to spend a good amount of time making a fool of themself entertaining people. I am, however, concerned that they are taking this cooperation with the Earth Guild too far.

One leader of the enemy of the Throne made himself known during this market. A character named “Alu”, a witch of one of the heretical gods, sent in droves of mind controlled soldiers and bird creatures. He even took over a number of the Branded in the area. Apparently this character has been known to the people of Runeheim before. Either a former Inquisitor, or someone who was masquerading as such. The fact that he was not put to an end when he first made himself known is concerning. But since he has made an appearance, hopefully he will be cut down swiftly.

The current state of the war is very concerning. Though through the power of God, and with the help of the Guild, I am sure that the Throne will eventually be successful in winning Njordr. Surely the heretics are getting desperate and they see their demise as imminent.

The snow here is strange. I read in my preparation books for this assignment that it snowed a lot in these lands. But it feels different. My sparring partner will have to go an extra hour so that my foot work can properly adjust. For soon my the work will begin.

A simple task walk into a den of what these lands call “soldiers” and do what is asked of me while the others work.
Though their skills maybe low there numbers where many. My allies and I had to close ranks in order to not be flanked but after that it was simple controlling our tempers for a victory.

Upon the path where shadows softly creep,

Beneath the cloak of night’s celestial glow,

With caution tread, where ancient secrets sleep,

To yonder monastery, dark and low.

The stars, like watchful eyes in heaven’s dome,

Illuminate the way with silver light,

Yet in the air, a chill begins to roam,

For whispers tell of creatures of the night.

The ancient stones, with ivy overgrown,

Stand silent, shrouded in a mystic air,

As if they guard a truth long left unknown,

A tale of blood and darkness lurking there.

With every step, the shadows seem to dance,

And in their depths, a sense of fateful chance.

Minona squared up to the training dummy once more, thoughts of the forum’s events driving away her exhaustion as she swung.

Lightning coursing down her sword and arcing into the ground. Rhyme’s fireball bursting against her chest, stopped only by her chainmail. Alu and that vampire’s poisonous whispers worming their way into her head. Staring a vampire down, her sword hand stuck to the slippery-sharp mass of strings as if glued.

Is any of this sword practice going to help you if you just get your mind turned against you again? Are you a dog that craves a leash, stumbling as soon as your lady isn’t there to keep an eye on you?

Minona swung too hard and the blade bit through the straw padding to the wooden post underneath. She dropped out of her stance to wrench it back out, and checked the edge. Desiderata was unharmed, of course, but it was a good habit to have.

Sloppy. God would only guide her blade if she had proper control of it.

And God was still with her. He had still protected her and Jacqueline even when Malachi’s gifts faltered. She could rely on that, even in these dark lands.

There had been good times at forum as well. Commanding a gargoyle’s attention while Damian circled around behind it. Fighting back-to-back with Jacqueline against the Ironbloods. Hunting in the woods with Callie and Alfred and Tiffany.

And it was good to be back in a soldier’s camp. She wasn’t familiar with the Rennet county Rogalt these soldiers spoke, but the cadence was familiar and she could laugh along with the jokes.

Minona sheathed her blade – better to stop now than to make a more serious mistake – and started on cool-off stretches.

The weather was finally turning, breaking the grip of frost at least for a little while. The sun’s heat draped across her shoulders and brought a prickle of sweat under her armor.

She lived. Her lady lived. There was still time to recover, to train, to face the next threat stronger.

Svart’s Journal – Game 15

What’s going on in Svart’s head:

Should have taken direct actions sooner. We have retaken Runehime and our enemies are fleeing. Morale is high.

Gothics were Njords that moved south. Benalius must have been descended from the Snow Lions clan. The Best Lions. He brought back true Njord culture. It’s so obvious. How easily the deeper revelations of the universe reveal themselves to Svart once he realized that he and the land are one.

Town cheered for Svart for helping feed them and providing salt. Malachi even said so. Vart must continue to strive to feed the town. Without me, the enemy would starve the people.

My spies have found where the witch is. They revealed its location in the warfare meeting. It and its coven are to the east, surrounded by woods filled with its bandits. The bandits that have always plagued Svart are in the woods protecting them. They’ll have to be dealt before attacking the witches and Lodi. First, Svart needs to find the spies in Runeheim that are informing the bandits and deal with them. The mages are suspect, to be sure, but for some reason, the church has been lured into trusting them. Still, I am sure there are others.

Probably mind magic. They have been very clever lately with their attempts to ensnare Svart. The Color Wizard has made attempts to be friendly towards Svart. Apparently, its name is Clemmens. The one that calls itself Java keeps insisting on joining in on community projects such as the Wise events. It bothers Svart to see her try and infect them with Wyrd magics. When Father Erasamus came in with the rings and the oath of community, she tried to edge her way into it.

I worry about Vernon. After Cnut, he is Svart’s oldest friend who has not died, been killed, abducted, or disappeared mysteriously. With the forces that have removed Cnut from the playing field still in play. Their next step would be Father Erasamus. Svart needs to protect him. I warned him of such but he is strong and says he can handle it, although he is grateful for Svart’s concern. He is probably trying to put himself between Svart and Svart’s enemies, but it is time to take a stand and prevent those enemies from gaining any more ground.

We marshaled our forces and marched on the forces of Sven, the friend of Cnut’s who was turned into a vampire. We did fight many vampires and hurt them drastically. Svart went into battle bravely and struck down vampires himself. I jumped and dodged so quick they could not strike me. Then I had to bandage some of the other warriors.

This Santiago merchant seems too nice and too good with a sword. Svart will need to keep a close eye on him to see if he is an ally or a plant by the bandits to get an assassin close to Svart. They try these things sometimes, but Svart is too clever for them to work.

Bandages. We need more bandages. Svart should make all his people bandages. Everybody gets bandages so everybody has bandages. Svart could make little pouches with bandages. They could all go on the very back of the belt so people know where to find them. People shouldn’t use their own bandages on themselves, as those are for them. Others will apply the bandages. Svart will give them to the most trusted and worthy first.