Journal Entry 8- She ran calling Wildfire…

I think I am not fond of goblins. Whether they are the run-of-the-mill, Varag or Hobs… I just do… not… like… them.

We were waylaid by hobgoblins on our way to Drellin’s Ferry. If not for Bam’s alertness we would have been overwhelmed. These hobs were well-armed, organized and determined. They also had the support of a hobgoblin priest who wove his spells unseen.

We managed to overcome the ambush and slay the priest, but one hob escaped. I think that will come back to haunt us. Another thing that’ll likely come to bite us in the nethers is the forest fire that started in the skirmish. We managed to rally the good folk of Drellin’s Ferry to fight the fire, but in our haste to warn them, I nearly forgot to retrieve any possible clues to the true purpose of the hobgoblin presence (I believe that they were too well organized and trained for mere brigandry). I still remember the look of disbelief from my comrades when I rode back into the fire, but I couldn’t take the chance of losing not only proof of the attack, but also information that could link them to our current mission. I hope that I am wrong and that the attack was merely coincidence.

I have always felt ill at ease among decision-makers and the local government seems to be capable. The most I could hope for is that we are able to give enough warning and information to aid in the difficult times ahead… and a capable sword when the need arises.

It is amazing, the damage a minor spell can do. Racing through the burning wood, my eyes stung, my lungs burned, the heat was overwhelming. I have a new-found respect for my mare, untrained for combat, she still held steady. Racing through the inferno, she was steadfast and true. She made the difference between a desperate race to salvage proof and a fool’s mission. Later, as I was brushing her down, I found a number of minor burns and singed hair. I am truly amazed that a mere riding mare could be so fearless and true. I never got around to naming her… until now. While I admit it is also a playful jest at Iroel’s expense, I think a fitting and long overdue name for her will be Wildfire.

Published in: on October 9, 2008 at 9:33 am  Leave a Comment  

Journal Entry 7- Something wicked this way comes…

18th Day of Wealsun

My dearest Ahnar’a,

I am at a loss of where to begin.

I am a descendant of the Rhestilor King Theron. I now bear the sword of my birthright, Merthuvial.

We had finally defeated Xeron only to find that his deeds were part of some greater plot. Some of Xeron’s minions escaped with some items of power. Items that must be recovered from the hands of evil if the good people of the land are to be safe.

As the spirit of King Theron spoke of a descendant among us, I could feel his gaze upon me. The seer’s confusing fortune in Four Winds became clear. With a certain dread and heavy heart I stepped forward to accept my birthright. A dread born not of knowledge that my destiny is not my own or even that my search for your freedom will be delayed, but of a sense of dark times to come. There is a prophecy that the King would return to aid the land in its time of greatest need. That time, I fear, is coming soon; and the lost legacy items are at the root of it I am sure.

I must ask you, my love, to wait awhile longer.

I must learn all I can about the history behind my ancestor, King Theron. I must unlock the secrets of Merthuvial and restore the legacy items to their proper place. I must do all that is in my power to ensure the safety of the people of Elsir Vale.

When these things are done, I can return.

Until then, my heart is with you.

Valthurne of Rhestilor


Published in: on September 17, 2008 at 9:21 pm  Comments (3)  

Journal Entry 6

17th Day of Wealsun

I have stepped away from the others. I cannot allow them to see how broken I am. I feel the face I wear as I write this entry is not the face they are used to seeing. This day leaves me lost and I am awash with sorrow, reeling with despair and railing against what is with a fury that only a death can bring.

But she isn’t dead. She is left to dwell in this cursed place for eternity… and we are to leave her behind in a place of darkness. Because of this and their crimes, Xeron and his minions will have no mercy from me. They will die for what they have done. I will take full measure of the sorrows they have wrought upon them… If Avaris proves to still be Xeron’s minion, he too will die by my hand.

… (The journal is set aside while Valthurne composes himself)…

…(Later)…

Bam has been a good friend, out of all of us he seems to understand the toll this takes from my heart. Sapphire has been listless and when I look at Ahnar’a’s wolf-friend, I see my own heartbreak reflected back.

Ahnar’a.

I first saw her sitting on a stone as we were traveling to Kingsholm. She seemed glorious like the sun, so certain of the destiny in store for her. Traveling with her, I came to know a gentle and serene soul that seemed to lay to rest a troubled heart.  But also I remember when she fell, injured and I carried her. I looked down at her and saw something beyond that befreckled face. I knew then that I didn’t want to let go.

I swore I would not abandon anyone, yet I am helpless to leave you here. You say that this is your destiny. How can this be the will of Ehlonna? To banish her glorious daughter from her sacred wilds to this decaying place. I cannot…. WILL NOT believe this is to be your fate for eternity. I told you that my heart remains here with you, I told you true. I love you, Ahnar’a.

Someday… somehow… I will free you from this prison, my love.

…(Valthurne tears the page from his journal and places it within his gambison, next to his heart)…


Published in: on August 20, 2008 at 7:48 pm  Leave a Comment  

Journal Entry 5- The fork in the road is stabbing us in the nethers.

I had to wait for my journal to dry before I could write in it. Not that I was in the condition to do so earlier. I find it ironic that it was leeches that caused our recent dilemma because physicians often use them to cure ills. I had lost my faith in healers a long time ago, until I came to know Prytannia and Ahnar’a. I think if they were to have been the ones to tend to my family’s illness, my loved ones would still….

I am feeling better and I think I am able to leave the sickbed, although I still feel the remnants of disease in my blood. Regardless, we are in a dire situation. We have need of more supplies. We were ill (no pun intended) suited for an extended foray into the crypt. I never really thought a single book to be so important until Iroel pointed out that without it, he has no spells. Our supplies are dwindling and soon we’ll have no food, clean water or light. We are done for if we do not resupply soon. I have decided to put my vote to return to town if we can. I know Æleryn is determined to proceed, and if everyone agrees with him, I will throw my lot in with them although it would be foolish to. Either choice, proceed or return to town, I think I might have to carry either Æleryn or Iroel unconscious over my shoulder.

Barring proceeding, if we return to town, I plan on requisitioning supplies. I understand that the town’s resources are limited but we are on official militia business, putting our very lives at stake. I have made myself penniless paying for my own equipment. If they want us to succeed, then they need to insure we have the necessary equipment…

But then again, I had a hard time getting decent equipment in the army too…

Published in: on August 10, 2008 at 2:09 pm  Comments (1)  

Journal Entry 4- Fear & Loathing in Kingsholm (Krootad’s Fate)

13th Day of Wealsun

Been a number of days since I have last put an entry in this Journal. I have been occupied by many things and much has happened since I have arrived at Kingsholm.

I am troubled…

In my short career as a soldier, I have faced danger of many sorts. There was the bandit ambush along The Dawn Way, a pitched battle that cost a caravan and nearly every life; the civil unrest at Elsircross, where my good friend Kerth took a dagger in his belly; or when the Elsir River threatened to flood during the rain season. I have been close to death by sickness, nature, beast and man. I have grown in the short time to keep fear in check.

Here in Kingholm I have seen talking wolves, dead that walk, and strange bestial creatures. My companions and I have time and again risked life and limb facing such foul creatures. And always I had the resolve to continue our task. Always I kept my fear in check.

Until Krootad. The battle started well, we had the best of our foe. We scoffed at the mocking voice of the graverobbing scum, Krootad. I did not understand the words he muttered, or the meaning of his gestures as the spell was wove, but the icy grip of fear took me. Overcame me. None of the horrible things I witnessed compared to the horror I felt.

I fled like a coward from the battle and left my companions to their fate.

I did not get far, fortunately, the panic left me as quickly as it came. My fear was swiftly replaced with anger. By the time I returned many of my companions were grievously injured. If not for their skill, they may have perished. What fate had I kept fleeing?

I have some consolation in destroying Krootad’s minions as well as the feel of his skull beneath my mace. I also have a newfound respect for my companions.

I will endeavor to stand firm in the future. I resolve to be the first one in and the last one out. I will never fail my friends again.

With this, I must close this entry. I am tired and my wounds need tending…

That, and Iroel is running low on ink.

Published in: on July 23, 2008 at 12:46 pm  Comments (3)  

Valthurne’s Journal Entry 3- Kingsholm and a blaster

Undated

The journey to Kingsholm was relatively uneventful. Along the way we met a woman name Ahnar’a. I think her name is elvish for “she’d be cuter if she didn’t have so many freckles”. She is a nature priestess near as I can tell and she chose to join us. Her reason was that she had some kind of vision directing her to us, to throw her lot in with us. “Hokey religions and ancient weapons are a great substitute for a good blaster at your side” I was told once by an old hermit… I don’t know what a blaster is, but I think he may have meant a mage. We now have a mage and hokey religions so I think once we have ancient weapons we’ll be alright.

It looks like we are going to get right into the militia duty. We are to investigate some disappearances at the local graveyard. I am not fond of the idea since I am to meet my end in a crypt or somesuch, but someone must step up to relieve the already weary guard.

As a side note, I talked to Iroel and he says the saying is actually “Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no substitute for a good blaster at your side”. (He didn’t specify whether a blaster is a mage or not). Being a mage, I think he may be biased.


Published in: on July 14, 2008 at 4:18 pm  Leave a Comment  

Valthurne’s Journal entry 2- Four Winds

Undated

Answered the call for help only to find that a group of adventurers had taken care of it. I introduced myself to them and learned that they are going to Four Winds to return the body of their fallen companion. They seem like good enough fellows and I was saddened by the death of their friend so I offered to accompany them on their journey. Baryn, or Bam, is a ranger. I haven’t dealt much with rangers; my cohort (the fighting group) was medium foot soldiers. It is good to have another soldier in the group. Iroel, a scholar of the arcane arts, seems like a likeable enough fellow, although he tends to use words that I don’t understand and talks about things that truly escape me. The wee-folk woman they call Smurfette seemed to take a liking to me… in a way that I am not comfortable with. The fallen companion, Prytania, was a priestess and we’ll be bringing her body to her temple. The name of the other party member escapes me but I am sure I’ll get to know him on the journey to Four Winds.

Undated

Made it to Four Winds. I wonder what I have gotten myself into.

It turns out that Prytannia’s mother is also a priestess of her temple. I was aside myself to see Prytannia’s mother mourning her. I was going to console her but Bam cautioned me to leave her be. Just as well because I don’t know of anything that could make her feel better. Except the miracle that was performed. I’ve heard tales of it but I never thought I’d see it… Prytannia was brought back from death!

The cost of the unguents, oils, salves, incense and whatnot that they used for the ritual must be incredible because our group is in is insurmountable (that’s a word, right?) .

On top of that, I had my fortune told and if the seer is correct my days are numbered… I feel depressed.

We are going to Kingsholm, for what I hope will be riches enough to get us out of debt. We will leave in the morning. Smurfette departed once we arrived, so I should be able to rest easier. I am still going to lock my room anyways.

Published in: on July 13, 2008 at 10:50 am  Leave a Comment  

Valthurne’s Journal entry 1- One less empty farm

Undated

I came upon this blank journal while haggling with the local merchant and decided this would be a good way to gather my thoughts. I do not believe myself to have a way with words, nor keen wit, but I will do my best to write my thoughts…

I come from a small family in a farming community a number of leagues from Kingsholm, struggling to exist on a handful of acres of tenant farmland. It was a hard life, but a good one. I imagine I would still be on the farm had fortune not failed. Sickness struck the community and left many homes empty. I do not want to put into words my sorrow, so I will move on.

I joined the military. I am learning my training well enough and I find that I favor the battlesword (longsword). Everything is so rigid, the food is lousy and most of my superiors are pain in the nethers. I thought that I would be doing more than marching and gaurd duty. After my term of service is done, I think I’ll muster out and try to do somethng more meaningful. I can’t bring myself to return home, I don’t have the heart of a sellsword, so I think I’ll wander a bit and see what is out there. Maybe I should be an adventurer. I figure if I can lessen the burden of sorrow in other folks lives then maybe it can count for something. Maybe it can make one less empty farm.

Published in: on July 12, 2008 at 10:51 am  Leave a Comment