Alaric's Journal

[Greklin]

Day 1:

Right. So, Decided to start keeping a journal today. Because I'm getting tired, and I keep forgetting things. Best to write them down, I suppose.

Oh, right. Lets start with the date. Its the fifth day of Kythom, of the year 1372. About mid-day. Nobody around, really. Just me, sitting on this bench, drunk, and writing in a journal because I'm too lazy to go find anyone, or do anything.

What that woman said is still stuck in my bloody mind. I doubt she can achieve those goals, anyways, even if I did say that I would help her. I'm going to get myself killed, thats just how it is.

As for the search for a god, I'm stuck. Helm seemed like the most likely choice. But I dont know anymore. There is always Tempus; I remember seeing people worshiping him back at Waterdeep. Seems like a good god, to me. But then, he is a god of War. And thats not what we need, is it?

War. War is fine. It happens. But it tears things apart. Sundren doesnt need that, it needs peace. But how do you achieve peace? Through war. Or talking, but I'm pretty sure that its past that point.

Tempus. I talked with one of his priest, who I actually mistook for a fellow mercenary. Was wearing armor almost as battered as mine. Drank like a beast.

Anyways, I got information about Tempus. Here it goes;

Tempus is the god of War. Or, a god of war? Whatever. He looks favourably upon those who acquit themselves honorably and tirelessly in battle, smiting mightily when facing a foe, but avoiding such craven tricks such as destroying homes, or farms, or harming innocents. He thinks that we, that is, warriors, should consider the consequences of our actions beforehand, and try not to just rush off to war recklessly.

And he thinks that people with smooth tongues, or who are just plain cowards, wreak more harm than the most energetic orc horde.

So we agree with a couple of things, there. For one, harming innocents is wrong. Those people are just trying to make a living. And there is honor in battle. I'm not saying that I wouldnt strike a woman. I'm saying that if the woman was pregnant, I'd let her off with a warning. If they are attacking a man in full plate with just their bare hands, it's their problem.

It also makes me think twice about what we did the other day, when we raided the Veristas. I dont feel comfortable, knowing we killed that priest. I mean, sure, she attacked us; But why did we fight her in the first place? Some things are sacred; and temples are among those.

But if I went with him, how would I be able to live in peace? He's a god of war; so does that mean that I must always be charging off to the next battle? I want to live in bloody peace, damnit.

As for Helm.. Well. Talking with those priests at the temple, I got some information about him. For one, his favored weapon is a bastard sword; like the one I use. That struck me as a sign, at first. But now, I think its just a coincidence.

Look at it this way; He's the god of protection. Watchmen, guards. Obeying the laws. And apparently, Helm has something for children. Children have a special place in his heart, I guess. Which is great, I mean, I love kids myself. I've had one.

His church is actually in a decline right now. Sundren is an exception, because they are such a huge help here.

I dont know. Between the two, I still know more about Tempus than Helm.

Anyways. Thats all there, so I can remember it. And re-read it. Decide.

I dont want anything to do with the bloody Triads. I dont trust them. In the end, they dont work for Sundren; They work for their gods. I'm tired of being a mercenary, so thats a no to the Blackwoods. The Legion is, essentially, useless. They cant even defeat the pests in Viridale.

I'll have to talk to that woman again, if I see her. Get her to put whatever her plan is into action.

My armor is in its last throws. The helmet will survive, but.. Gods, this old suit has seen better days. Father would be proud, though. I made sure that it saw some good fights, before the end. Maybe I can get it repaired.

Still havent seen a Legion patrol. Saw some Triads, but its like Donny says; generally, they cause the vampires to attack. So rather than protecting the people with those patrols, its more like they instigate attacks.

Let them give their speechs, and say how they work so hard for us. I still dont trust them, and probably wont. The only reason the Triad is here, is to fight the Black Hand.

On a side note; Still a drunk, useless mercenary sitting on the side of the road complaining. Not doing anything to change anything.

[Greklin]

Day 2:

Right, so its not really one day after my last entry. Its more like three. Eighth of Kythom.

Anyways. Further thoughts on the issue that is religion.

Tempus. Big bad warrior. Can you worship him, and be at peace? Yes. Sure, people can say otherwise. But you dont have to be at war to worship a war god. And if I do, then he's not for me. Lets face it; I want what is known as a 'storybook ending'.

I want to settle down, hang my sword up over the fireplace. Mount my shield on the wall, use it as heraldry. Have my armor set up as a piece of decoration. I've had it before, and I want it again. Have so much money, I dont have to worry about making anymore for the rest of my life. Live in a place that is safe from strife, safe from war. Find a new wife. Foster some new children. Carry on the legacy of my house.

But that wont happen. I know it wont. At this rate, I'll either die alone in my tent from wounds, or sickness. Or I'll die in that womans crazy plots. Or from drinking too much.

Which will it be? And when I die, will I go to the Wall of the Faithless? I dont want that. I'm the last of my line, and I need to make sure that my name is carried on. Atleast by bards, if not by blood.

What will I be remembered for? At this rate, the only thing that I will be remembered for at all would be as an exile, and a murderer. They may not see the justice in what I did, But the Gods know its there. I pray they do, anyways.

If I follow that woman, I'll be remembered. But in a good way? I dont know. Need to talk to her again.

Side note. Can Triads make arrests? Donny asked that. I dont think they have the power. Pretty sure only the ones who work for the government can, like Hands and Blades. And the Legion. Like that would do much good, anyways. Triads tend to fight first, and ask questions later. Or do they? I hear they let a vampire off.

Whatever. Not my business. Should it be? Gods, I write too many questions down. Who am I asking, myself? I dont bloody know. Bugging myself, driving myself insane.

Voices again in my head. Memories, I suppose. Drinking wont shut them up. I hear them. Its obnoxious. Annoying. Crying for me to do something. This place is fucked up. No patrols on the road, because the Legion is too busy elsewhere. The Triads take up patrols, but they are just looking for Vampires and Black Hands.

James didnt even know about the smuggling operation going on in Aquor until I told him about it. Its like the government doesnt even care anymore.

Voices, bloody voices. She wont let me be. I wasnt there, and she knows it. And now, their both dead. I cant make it up to them. I have probably just been making it worse by acting like this. Drinking, cursing, swearing, going around being a general ass. I was a knight once. I need to act like it. Honor. Chivalry.

Who am I kidding? Those are dead. And they dont pay. I could see a mage about getting rid of the voices. Or maybe a priest. Or maybe I'll just leave them there.

Gives me someone to talk to.

Clouds overhead now. Glad I moved under the overhang. Bloody weather here.

I havent done anything, again. I've sat around all day. Drank. Ate. Pooped, once. Tent has a hole in it, now.

Maybe I should do something for the good of the people. But what can I do? Vampires could kill me with a glare. Bandits can take down anyone, if their smart enough. I'm not an assassin, I cant go after bounties, My armor is dented and ruined.

Gods. I sound hopeless. I am hopeless. This is all hopeless. Why am I writing this down?

Stupid journal.

[Greklin]

Entry 3:

Writing it as entries now. Makes more sense to me, though its only been one day since my last entry. Its now the ninth of Kythom.

Made an ass of myself. That argument with the paladin, horrible idea. They may be pompous asses who think that they are better than everyone, but that doesnt mean I should be that outwardly aggressive towards them. The fact I was just a little drunk may have something to do with it.

Whats more, Who am I to argue with them, when I've nothing to actually help the land? I havent killed a vampire. I havent been part of a group of six that single-handedly took back Mirakus Post. I havent patroled for bandits.

In the end, I had no right go off like that. It was wrong, it made me look like an ass, and it did more harm than good. I should apologize.

Gods. Why am I like this? I wasn't always like this. I was a knight, damnit. I know how to do mathematics, I can read, I can write. I know how to be bloody polite. Why am I like this, when I should be much more?

Damn that woman. She's the one that made me start thinking like this. And damn the voices, for starting to agree with her. Louder, every day, I hear them now. It pains me. Alchohol wont make them go away.

I have to start acting more like how I was. I need to sit down, and write down my code. I need to follow that code, and live by it. I am a knight.

Protect the weak - They cannot protect themselves. I am the shield that protects them, and the sword that strikes for them.

Follow the laws - Lead by example. If I am always breaking the law, others around me will see it as acceptable. If I want respect, I must be lawful.

Never harm innocents - Only attack those who attack myself, in defense.

Be polite - Stop swearing, fucker. If you are rude, No one will want to travel with you.

Stay vigilant - If I follow this course, I will make enemies. They will always be looking for me; I must be prepared to fight. And, I must be ready to jump to anothers defense, at any moment.

This code I swear to uphold, until death takes me. I will follow it, to the letter. I will not be swayed away from my code by money or material belongings. This I swear, upon my honor, and my life.

There. That's out of the way. The voices have quieted down. I should look for that paladin, and apologize to him. But, first things first. I have to do something for the land. I have been idle, and that angers the voices.

I could have been doing something. Anything. What shall I do? What can I do?

I'm a knight. I will do what knights' do: I will protect the people. I shall patrol the roads. Seek out bands of bandits, and destroy them, or persuade them away from their hectic path. I could go to Viridale or Mossdale, and aid in the fight against the state's enemies. I could destroy the demon-possessed dead outside of Argyle, or just the undead raised by the Black Hand at Necropolis.

I will do something, for the good of the people. I will not sit idle anymore. I will not watch this land slowly decay around me. I will not watch the people suffer, watch people die heedlessly. Something must be happen.

I am an exiled knight. I am a murderer. I may not set the best example, but I can fix that. I can repent for my sins. I turned my back on chivalry. I turned my back on honor. Now I know, that was wrong. As a nobleman, even a lesser one, I have duties to my land and people. Waterdeep had all the reason in the world to exile me. I should have accepted it. I should have brought them with me. But I didnt.

But that is the past. This is now. Things will change here, by my hand, or the hands of others that follow. I will most likely die in this persuit.

But if I do it right, I will be remembered.

[Greklin]

Decided to write down what the voices say. It'll help. Warm in here.

"You were a man of honor, once. Now? Now you let these people walk around, slaughtering innocents left and right. You know they do it. What do you do to stop them? Nothing. Why? Because your a failure. You arent my son."

"Daddy? Daddy, where are you? I'm scared, daddy! Its cold here! Help me, daddy! Help me!"

"You left us. You left us. We died because of you. You left, and we were killed. Why did you leave? Why did you leave us? We died because of you! Because of you!"

"I raised you better than this. You left them to die, back there. You could have helped them. They didnt pay you? Excuses. Why do you need to be paid to do what is right? You were raised better than this!"

"They came in the door! Hoar, guide my strikes. Stay back! I swear, I will kill you if you come closer! Dear, take the child. Take him out back. I will hold them h-"

"They shot him! Oh, gods! Ilmater, save us! Save us from this!"

"Mommy? Mommy, whats going on? Why is grandpa not moving? What do those men want? Where is daddy?"

"Dear, listen to me. You have to get out of here. You have to go, you have to run! You have to live! Find your father, tell him what happened here! Go! Go!"

"You failed us. We died because of you. Why? Why did you fail us? You swore you would protect us. You swore you would guide us. You failed us. You failed us."

"You lazy drunk. You lay around, doing nothing all day. You do nothing. Nothing. You lazy drunk. Lazy drunk!"

"There is blood on your hands, Alaric. Our blood. The blood of your countrymen. You killed him, Alaric. You killed him in cold blood. You had no right to do that. You should have taken it to court. You killed him."

"Your a disgrace to your family! I revoke your nobility, and sentence you to permanent exile! Never return here. Never return! We dont want to see you again!"

"I killed them. I did it. I heard them scream for you, and laughed. Your father was the first to die. He thought he could stop me. A crossbow bolt fixed him. Then your mother died, praying over his corpse. And then your wife died, when she came at me with a knife. And your son was last, as he ran down the street. It was so easy. So easy."

"Drink! Drink! Its the only thing that is keeping you alive!"

"Dont listen to him. Your better than this! You know you are!"

"DRINK!"

"Save us, Alaric! Save us! Alaric!"

Why do they haunt me? Why must I relive their final moments? Why? I need a drink. No. I shouldnt drink. I must do something. Something..

[Greklin]

Entry 4:

It worked. I cant believe it. The patrol I did, shut them up. And, I've decided on a god. Finally.

Tempus. He's the one for warriors. He understands what I'm going through. He will guide me through this strife, and understand if I decide to hang up my sword. I just have make sure that, at all times, I am prepared to go back to war. I cant let the sword rust.

On patrol, I found a group of bandits. They were attacking a farm, and didnt see me coming. Got two of them right off the bat, and the rest fled. The people inside came out and thanked me. It felt good.

I want a story ending. I hate the pain of being alone. I want a wife. I want kids. Damn, but I want to live a normal life.

But to live a normal life, I have to put up with this. I must stride forward, through this mess, and come up on top. I cant fail.

I wont fail.

On a side note, My tent is on its last throws. The patch I made on the hole in the roof isnt holding out right. I'll have to find a new place to live, at this rate.

Armor is also on its last legs. I can only do my own repairs for so long, before the metal starts to stress and get weaker. I'll need a real blacksmith. And new armor.

Why dont I live in the inn? Why have I spent the last couple of months looking for death?

I think that the truth is I'm afraid to live. Shit, that sounds wrong. Okay. If life can be such a bitch, whats the point? No, still wrong.

I dont know. Probably just the booze, then. That must be it.

Side note, no sign of the paladin. Need to apologize.

Learned more about Kestalina. She's interesting. That drow better not harm Das, or I'll rip his heart out. Worse, I'll find out what he treasures, and destroy it. Nobody harms my friends.

Am I still friends with Das? Was I ever? I was an ass to her, and the cleric-boy. How can I seriously call myself her friend? Shit.

I'm not friends with anyone, at this rate, am I? I may say I am, but its a one-sided relationship of a man craving companionship. A drunk man. Thats not fair. I didnt drink today.

[Greklin]

Entry five:

Apologized to the paladin. It was after I aided Das and James in killing that vampire. Shit, aided? I didnt actually do anything. I just sort of talked to it. Gods, that was smart of me. It was stalling to get the wards down, and I fell for it. Atleast I still managed to get him off-guard at the start. And then James held him down while we tore him to pieces.

Anyways. I did apologize to the paladin. He made some smart-ass comment. I didnt pay attention to that. Decided to call him Dick from this point forward. Is that bad?

Eh. I have to have some liberties, dont I? Its not like I can change to the perfect knight in just a few days. It takes longer than that.

Moving on. Still no sign of a blacksmith. So my armor is still shit. Thinking about putting up a note at the trading post. Dunno.

Still upset at what Das revealed to me. How could she be so stupid? Did she seriously think that he would change? Gods. And now he's going to try to kill her.

I'm going to get my ass kicked. But I need to kill him. I know I do. I cant let him hurt her. But should I?

She loves him. Does he deserve life? Or should he die for his crimes? Maybe I can persuade him away from his path. Doubt it. Going to get killed, gods, I'm going to get killed.

Somethings just about to break. I know it. I'm now dying for people I hardly know. That vampire, why did I attack him? What harm was he doing in just standing there? Sure he was a mass-murdering fuck. But he wasnt murdering people then.

Doesnt matter. He's gone now. For a bit.

Gods above. I will try to find my place. That much I have to do. I will do. Still arguing with Triads. Still spending most of my day at the Inn. Still not doing much, though more than before, for the people. For the greater good.

But where is my place? Maybe I am just a useless mer

Stupid voices. But their right. I'm a Knight. I have to start acting like it. I need to clean up my act. Stop drinking. Start doing more. Die for anyone, at this rate.

This is harder than I thought it would be. I thought I could just write down a new Code and follow it to the letter. Its not that easy.

Harder to change than just saying you will. I've stopped drinking, which isnt easy. Its made me grumpy, I guess. Irritable. Confrontational. More so than when I'm drunk. Thats the hardest part, I guess; Stopping drinking. But I will succeed.

There are other things I must do, too. I've moved out of my tent, and gotten a room at an inn. Funny enough, its hard to sleep on a bed after so much time on the hard ground.. Its too comfortable.

Always keep my armor with me now. Wearing it as I write this. Especially need to wear it when out at night. Especially after I aided in taking down a vampire. Need to pick up garlic.

The weather has been the same as usual. But something strange happened on my patrol. It cleared up. I've never seen a clear sky here. Never. It was..

I cant describe it. It was wonderful.

Got to go. Spent enough time on this.

[Greklin]

Sixth entry.

Tired. Havent been home in..

Seems like weeks. Tired. Armor is ruined. Painful. Quickly going to write down what I can. Hand is shaking. Mind not working right.

Got overzealous. Went to Mossdale. Nearly died. Lost in the woods. Got out alive, but just.

Armor is trashed, like I said. I havent taken it off this whole time. Slept in it. Ate in it. When I had food.

Near-death, I had hallucinations. Cant think straight. I think it was a man. No, a women. Both? I cant tell. I dont know.

Tired. Will fill in more when rested.

[Greklin]

Seventh Entry.

Its been a while. A long while. I'm sorry. I couldnt stay in Sundren. No, I had to go back. Again. I am an idiot.

Who am I writing this too..? Doesnt matter. Nobody will ever see this journal. Its too late, now, anyways. I need to do something. Anything.

I'll write down what happened, then. Doesnt matter, does it? Who the hell will read this?

One of the villagers came. Its a mess back ho.. back there. My father's tomb has been desecrated. The lands are being ignored. The new lord is cruel and greedy.

Maybe I should have expected this. And they are being punished for my crimes. I cant let that pass. Father would not want this. I dont want this.

But can I just leave here? Can I just leave behind all that I have done here, to go home? To fight a battle that, technically, isnt mine anymore?

I have too. I will return. But I must clean up the mess I left behind me. I cant let this pass. It's my fault, and I will fix it. With Tempus's help.

Maybe I can get the villagers to come with me. Back here. I have enough money, maybe, to rent a boat. I'll be broke..

I will find a way. They need out of this mess that I have caused. If they are willing to follow me, I can lead them here. Or, perhaps, to a different land. A place that they wont be abused.

Perhaps here isnt the right place.

I dont know. I will have time to think of it, of course. And, while I'm gone..

Father's armor. I've thought about it often. I should get it. Bring it back here.

Gods, I've changed. It feels weird. I stopped drinking. I've done more for the people without being paid for it. But the voices have stopped. I feel better about myself. I feel more active.

I cant describe it all in words. I'm not a magician with such things. Well, I could hold a good drunken argument. I make a damn good ass out of myself.

Pardon my language.

I'll leave a letter, or a note, at the Second Wind. To who?

Eh. December wouldnt care either way if I left. Donny isnt really a friend, more a fighting companion. That paladin is more of an enemy. Das, I hardly speak too. I hope she's alright. It's been a while.

Gods. I guess I havent any true friends. Thats.. depressing. But, then again, perhaps its for the best. Nobody will be hurt if I dont come back. Nobody will notice, even, if I dont come back.

But I do intend to come back.

What is this? I suppose this could count as redemption. No. I had redemption. This is

Repairing damages. I was reckless. I will stop being a reckless ass. I will live up to my family name. I will fight the good fight, I will protect my people, and I will come out victorious.

Even if I have to die trying.

Tempus, Protect me in these troubling times.


I will return to Sundren. I doubt anyone will find it, but I shall leave this journal at my inn room. I will make a new journal, to keep track of what I'm doing back home.

Atleast if anyone cares, and come looking to my inn room, they'll find this. It's a funny read, anyways.

Story of a drunk man gone insane, seeking redemption. Gods, I'm a fool. But I'll be back. I cant leave the land like this. I cant, in good conscience, leave.

But I cant just let them suffer back home for my crimes.

Gods. I dont want to hurt anyone anymore. I'll go into the country, disguised. I'll make my way to the village, and see if I can help them in a way that wont kill anyone.

As much as the uptight bastards deserve death, I cant go around killing nobles. Because they do have a purpose. And, I am not one to judge them for their crimes.

My father's armor. It seems like a dream, when I first saw him dressed for battle. I dont feel right, letting my inheritance rust away on top of his tomb. A decoration for ghosts.

His shield, with the family crest upon it. I dont deserve to wear it, but it doesnt deserve to be left to dust.

No. No, I will take my inheritance back. Even if just so that it see's use.

Gods. I'm changing into some sort of goody-goody. But is that a bad thing?

Sundren may not be the best place. It may not be the safest place. But it is my home now. I will return, even if in a coffin.

I'm rambling. The boat leaves at high tide. I'm going to go get aboard. This journal, I'm leaving in a safe place. I doubt anyone will read it.

May the Gods' save Sundren.

[Greklin]

Alaric's Journal: Outside Sundren

Entry 1:

This is a new journal. This will record everything that has happened in my time away from Sundren.

I have alot to write about, to start. For one, I have been gone for about a week and half.

I was on a boat for the first week, maybe a few days more. I wasnt paying attention, and, towards the end, the Bitch Queen decided to throw a storm at us.

So I'll put it simply. The ship sunk. I barely made it to a lifeboat with my sword and pack. Armor is gone. The Captain made it, along with seven other crewmembers in two seperate lifeboats.

Hell of a way to start out my journey. Lose almost everything at the start. Including my original journal for this journey! But, small loses lead to a greater gain. I hope so, anyways.

We managed to get ashore. I have no clue where we are, though the Captain said we were north of Neverwinter, and about a three-day's march south of Luskan. So not too far from civilization.

I headed south, while the crew and captain went north. Was it foolish to have split up like that? Perhaps. But, I'm more worried for them than for myself. I can handle a battle, even without my armor. I dont know if they can..

Ah. I managed to find a road! Well, it was easy, really. Roads tend to follow the coast. I just headed inland, and there it was. About a mile down the road further, I came to a farm. Abandoned. Looked like some sort of orc raid. The door was knocked down; things thrown about the place. The barn was burnt to a pile of ashes.

Anyways, it was old damage. You see that alot. I spent the night there. Call me lazy for only going a mile, but I had just survived a shipwreck on the coast!

I explored the place, and found this empty journal. It.. well. It wasnt in good condition, actually. It was cut in half, down the middle. So I cut it again, and now its rather compact. Plenty of pages. I couldnt read what was in here at first, though I imagine it was just a farmer's log of weather and happenings from fifty years ago.

Thats not right. It wasnt that old of a barn. Maybe thirty, twenty years.

There was a creek nearby, in an old field. I refilled my waterskin, and washed the salt out of my hair. After that, I headed back to the road and continued south.

Ran into a group of bandits. I tried to reason with them; I had nothing, obviously, except my sword, which I would not give up (I will explain why in a moment). They would not listen, however, and set upon me. I dispatched them, trying only to wound.

Lucky they had no bow among them, or I would have been in trouble! At any rate, they surrendered after I had given them a good beating.

I now had leather armor, a loaf of slightly-stale bread, and directions to Neverwinter.

I continued south, following their directions. The next couple of days were rather uneventful, with not so much as a rainy day. And then I reached Neverwinter.

It may not be as large as Waterdeep, but it's still impressive! Indeed, its larger than Sundren. Though not by much.

And that's where I am as of this entry. I found a place to stay, and a job to earn enough money to take a ship south. I believe its only a three-weeks journey to Waterdeep from here. I could be wrong, of course, but I do know that a journey by foot would take too long for my goal.

I've gotten about halfway in a week and howmany days. A half a week, maybe? I dont know. Maybe my estimate is too large. Maybe it would only take another week and a half by boat?

Ah, bother, distances, math, cost.

My job here is that of a, well, a fisherman. I'm not very good at it; But, it's not fighting.

At my current wages, and the price of a fair on a boat if you aid, I should make it out of Neverwinter by the end of the week.

That would be about three gold coins from work, by then. That should be more than enough to pay my way onto a boat as a part-time sailor until we reach Waterdeep, so long as I dont ask for pay from them.

Waterdeep! How I miss it, and hate it, and fear the day I will see it again. But I must.

The voices have been silent. It's well and good that they have. They must know; yes, they must know. I am doing the right thing. I know it.

I will have to disguise myself. I'll bleach my hair. Shave my beard.

Sword would stick out..

Ah! I know. A trick I learned from a hunter friend, to dull metal; simply rub charcoal on it, to ash it up. Or mud.

I'll have to think of more ways to disguise myself. Appearing in leather armor would be one way, I suppose; I normally wore plate. Or, I could wear no armor!

Too risky. Leather.

Anyways. Going to sleep now. Long day tomorrow.

[Greklin]

Entry two:

Its been a while.

I dont know how long. I just lost track of time. It happened fast.

At any rate, I'm home now. It must have been weeks, and weeks, and weeks.. But it feels like only a few minutes.

I managed to get on a boat. We had no trouble from the Bitch Queen this time, and made it safely to Waterdeep. I havent made any more money, though I have some leftover from what I made in Neverwinter.

I am home. Not in Waterdeep, but the village. From Waterdeep, its a two-day walk inland, following the road to Silverymoon.

Its a small place. There was no wall around it when I left, though now there is a palisade.

The manor where my family lived is being worked on. To start, they added a new wall around it, taking out the old fieldstone wall, and putting in tall, smooth, artisan wall. They must have taken stone from a quarry near the Sword Mountains.

That'd be a bit of a haul. But then, the fellow who has my families land will waste no expense on himself and his protection.

Another lesser noble like myself, only he has made something of himself by knocking off the other nobles for their land in a string of conspiracies and strange murders. I thought I had killed him, before; But I had failed to land a mortal blow, apparently.

At any rate. The villagers dont recognize me, yet. Which is good. I dont want them broadcasting my presence. As they say, loose lips sink ships. Two people know I am here; The village blacksmith, Narl, and the innkeeper, Jaime.

Narl has agreed to show me to help me in retrieving my father's armor. I expect it needs some reworking, after all this time.

I was surprised to learn that it was not buried with my father after all, but rather hidden by the villagers so that the new lord wouldnt use it!

They have hidden many of the family artifacts; My mothers' wedding ring, which was last worn by my wife; documents proving the noble blood that runs through my veins; my old warhorse; pictures of the family, painted in a happier time; most of the armory..

The armory! Of course.

If they have most of the weapons, then perhaps I can get the villagers to train with me in secrecy. Then, I can send them off in smaller groups. One family at a time, armed and prepared for any danger on the road from here to Waterdeep.

And there was armor there, aswell, that I could use! Even if it's just a chainmail tunic, it would be useful. I need to wear more then just leather.

I dont want to wear my father's armor just yet. I dont feel I am ready.

Tempus, forgive me, but I dont wish to fight. I will if it comes down to it, but I wont go blindly charging into a rage like before.

I need more time to plan. I will try to remember this journal. I hope Sundren is well.

Wish I still drank.

[Greklin]

Entry three:

Tempus has guided me well in the past few days. I'll explain, simply.

To start, I've created a sort of underground here. A resistance to the rule of the current noblemen. Many of the villagers are on my side; those that aren't are either scared, or rich.

Its been rough. The noble has sent his 'soldiers', a group of mercenaries from Gods know where, to the town to collect 'taxes'. Some of the things he collect really go towards the taxes, of course. His taxes, anyways. The rest goes to his personal, growing horde.

I've started to train the villagers again. It's difficult, but we have plenty of leather armor to go around. Started only with spears. Its easy enough to train them to use those, and we have plenty. Beyond that, I have ten of the local hunters for archers.

Military bows are alot more powerful than the bows they are used too, but they're slowly getting used to the change. The main issue is that the weapons haven't had to be used in Gods know how long. A few of the older weapons had to be smelted down. We got a good amount of arrowheads from them, atleast.

Look how bad my grammar was last entry! I suppose I should blame that on myself. Its hard to erase what is written in ink, so one must be precise, or one appears like a fool. I hear mages can make corrections in their scrolls. I suppose that would be necessary. A wrong rune for them could be the difference between a scroll of healing, and a scroll of explosive diarea.

Nasty image. Maybe that's why druids wear brown robes?

Right, back on track. Total amount of able-bodied men and women in the village aiding me is around fourty-seven. Of those, twelve are married couples, and seven have children. Eight are getting rather old, and four are a bit young.

Total of twenty-four who arent going to fight, bringing me to twenty-three who will, of which ten are hunters. That brings around thirteen who will fight by my side in the coming months.

The twenty-four who cant will still be trained up, and will start to lead people away from the town and towards Sundren. That should pretty much take care of that.

Narl is perhaps the best hand-to-hand fighter here, besides me. Of course, he's stronger than me; but that's what happens when you beat on a hot piece of metal for six days a week, every week, of every day, for your entire life.

Jaime, however, wont be fighting. He's old, far too old to be of use. He and his wife will aid in moving the people.

I'll explain my plan in full;

To start, there are deliveries made to the village every week or so. It's hard to sustain it by just what the villagers grow, at any rate. The idea will be that we take these goods, or atleast destroy them. I'll personally insure that the villagers dont go hungry by whatever means I can. The idea is to starve him out, not us.

We wont actually try to kill anyone. In fact, I will be the only one who will be seen during the attacks, if all's well. I want only the hunters to actually help me by aiming for the guard's limbs. Difficult shots, but these men easily get birds from fifty paces with a bow half as powerful as what they have.

I will do the next part. Dressing in my father's armor, and carrying his shield, I will come to them as a ghost, persay. If we had a wizard, it would all go better, since I would have more bells and whistles to make me seem like a ghost, but, we dont. We'll have to make do.

Anyways, I appear as the ghost of my father, or my ancestors all in one. I'll try to make my voice sound deeper, and with the visor of the helmet down and in full armor, my voice is naturally dull and distorted.

My sword will not be brought into the fray. Instead, I will use my father's blade. It's

That way I will seem more authentic, anyways. I have no warhorse, so I'll have to (ugh) go there on foot.

I dont care how much people wear armor in Sundren. This stuff is heavy. Leather padding, chainmail over that, and finally plate over that.. Gods, It's good the climate here isnt too hot, or I'd overheat in a half hour.

It's unreasonable how they do that. They wander around in full plate armor all day, and dont get tired! Maybe I'm just weak, but I change out of it whenever I get the chance. Sure, it leaves you vulnerable, but go around wearing armor all the time and you'll die from exaustion!

Random argument there. Right. I go before them in full armor, and stop them. Hopefully most will be wounded. I scare them off, or fight them off if need be. Then the others, the thirteen, will come and take the goods from the cart, replacing the full crates and sacks with pre-made older onces filled with bones.

That should scare the crapper, if he has a conscience at all.

After a while of this, he'll get hungry and leave for his own mansion, or better yet, try to find me. If he tries to find me, I'll scare him even more.

A trail of bones will conviently lead him to my family tomb.

All of the coffins have, very carefully, been removed and reburied at an older tomb that belonged to my mother's family. At any rate, if he catchs on, I will wait for him at my father's tomb, imobile in the armor, waiting.

Should he or his goonies set foot in the tomb, They would hear strange echoing moans that would grow louder the deeper they intrude. Worse, they would find that in every grave they look, the bodies are missing, instead finding signs of something trying to get out.

Scratchs on the lids, sides cracked open from the inside out with the lids intact, blood stains on the more fresh graves of my family leading out of the tomb.

Just the simple things. None of the torches will light. It will be dark as midnight in the room, save for a single beam of light. It will shine upon the tomb of my father, specifially, at the suit of armor standing over his grave, guarding him in death.

Of course, if that doesnt scare him off, my slowly moving to life and accusing him of his crimes will. Or maybe me stabbing his sleazy fat stomach with the family blade, avenging my family by taking his still-warm blood.

Either way, he'll be gone. And then I will tell the people that they have a choice. They can stay and live under a new lord, or go to Sundren, where they might find a more productive life.

I need to iron out a few more details in this plan. I'm not quite satisfied with it. I wish Das was here, her skills would be perfect for this.

Why not just have the people flee, now that I have what I came for?

Because it's not enough. He'd come after them. They are his servants, essentially, and he'd milk them for money until they die. They cant leave.

Thinking into this too much. Need rest. Plenty more to come soon.

Gods, watch over Sundren. Tempus, Red Knight, aid me in my plans.

[Greklin]

Entry four:

Going as planned. Two shipments already are ours. I dont know how many more we need to get.

So many things that have happened. It's strange, though, because it's all been in our favor.

For instance, nobody has been hurt. Not even the caravan guards. A few warning shots, and they scattered to the four winds. I think that something is going on besides our little routine, but I cant be certain.

The noble has a bit of a stockpile built up at the moment, so I cant expect him to starve just yet. A few more weeks, a couple more shipments.

This is making me nervous. Why are they so easily frightened? Maybe there is a war going on. Maybe there is a new orc horde on the loss from the mountains.

Sending out a couple of hunters to find out what's going on. I'll stay here and continue this work.

New baby was born today in the village. Her name is Alexandria. That makes one more who cannot fight, the father.

Noble has started to erect a palisade around the village, now that the manor is secure. Guard towers also going up.

My hair is getting long. Cut off the blonde parts from when I bleached it. Beard is growing out aswell. I look like a bloody barbarian.

Suits me, doesn't it?

[Greklin]

*([WRITERS NOTE: This is a scene, not a journal entry. THAT IS ALL.])*

A lone carriage slowly makes its way down a well-trodden dirt road. The horse is steaming sweat in the cold winter morn, eyes wide and crazed from exaustion and fear.

Birds caw in the otherwise silent woods, snow gently floating down from the heavens.

A single man, clad in the heavy, antique armor of a knight, steps out of the woods as if from nowhere, his dull-yellow cloak billowing around him in the piercing winds that somehow managed to find their ways around the countless trunks of the forest. He reaches up, gently patting the horse, calming it.

The driver stares at him from the carriage seat. But it is a blank stare, forever frozen in surprise and horror, brought about by a crossbow bolt to the man's throat, which was by now black with blood.

The knight, if he could be called that, removed his helmet. Long black hair flows forth from his helmet, going all the way to his bearded chin in length. The signature bastard sword of his family was in his hand.

Of course, this is the 'hero' of our story, as well the readers must know. Alaric pierces his lips, and whistles sharply. Ten men step out from their hiding places, each armed with a crossbow and covered in foliage to aid them in hiding.

"Someone beat us to this one, too?", said one, a shaggy man known by the name of Lein.

"That's the fourth time.." whispered another hunter, Larkin, who was frail as an elf and almost as old.

In a commanding voice, Alaric spoke up. "Enough. This blood is fresh. It hasnt yet dried, meaning we may have company."

The hunters all laughed nervously. "You jest, boss. Look, we'd know if anyone was coming, wouldnt we?"

Alaric turned to him, and smiled. The hunters knew this woods like the back of their hands. Having lived in there for their entire lives, it was all natural. Al had actually quite neglected the place, since he was busy with training from a young age. He sighed, turning back to the carriage, and carefully putting the helmet down on the ground.

"Who around here owns a crossbow?"

If he had been facing the hunters when he asked the question, he might have seen that half of them were dead on the ground, throats slit. The rest all held heavy, black crossbows. One of them spoke up.

"No one, sire."

He shook his head. "No, that's not true. He owns some, doesn't he? Lord Egbert. But why would he kill his own men?"

Slowly, one man raised his crossbow, a single, special bolt pointed at Alaric's back.

"Perhaps it was all a ruse, sire. Perhaps he wanted to flush you out?"

"But he doesnt even know I'm back." Alaric sighed, and turned to face them...

Shhhhh-

The bolt left the crossbow at the very moment he reached the half-way point of his turn. A smile was on his face, words on the tip of his tongue.

Crack!

The tip struck his armor's breastplate. The special tip punched a hole right through it, and kept on going. The impact forced him to take a half a step backwards.

Ssshhunk.


The arrow struck flesh, ignoring the rest of the armor beneath the plate, and going all the way through him.

The smile slowly fades from his face. He stares at the arrow, right hand going limp on his sword. His left hand reaches slowly towards it.

"I suppose your wondering why," said one of the hunters. Alaric thought it was Lein.

"The truth is, he pays more. We've been in his service for ages now! Since before you came, in fact. Keeping an eye on the others. Making sure no trouble starts."

Slowly, his knees started to shake.

"Besides," the man continued, "why would anyone help you? You were a prick to us! You think you can just come back, and everything would be better again? You do nothing but cause trouble for the village!"

He fell onto his knees'. The trees rustled, and people walked out slowly. Soon, the entire village was out there, staring at him, watching him grasp at the inconceivable truth. At the horrible betrayal.

"You cant just change, Alaric! You, of all people! You would end up being a worse lord than he ever could be. Lord Egbert protects our home. What do you do? You come, and expect us to move! Just because your glorious family was killed, and some other noble took over the land."

His eyes got watery. "I.. thought I knew.."

"Knew what? How we all felt? Sure, some of us sympathized with your line. Most of them are gone, now." It was Lein, Alaric could see. He nudged Larkin's corpse with his foot. "The older ones. The weak ones. But we all," he said, gesturing at the gathering, "know better!"

Alaric fell forward, stopping himself with his left hand. He right hand still clutched his sword. "And now, thanks to you, we can fight! We dont even need Egbert anymore. He's just a figurehead at this point, hostage in the manor he killed to obtain. We can defend ourselves. What would you have had us do? You would have had us drop it all and go off to the north!"

Some of the others in the background started yelling insults at him. He couldnt make them out that well. The world started spinning. "Your a godless heathen, Alaric, and a murdering exile at that. We won't let you stay here, Will we?!"

A resounding answer from the crowd. Some started to throw stones at him. Blood dripped from his mouth to the ground, tainting the snow there, as he opened his mouth to speak. "Dont.."

But they didnt listen. Instead, they all started to leave. The leader, Lein, stayed.

Finally, only the two of them remained. Alaric, struggling to stay alive, trying to comprehend what had happened. Lein, staring at him, crossbow in hand.

Snow started to fall from the skies. Lein sneered. "Waste of space, you are." A leg lashed out, and flipped Alaric over. "I hope yo-"

Lein never managed to finish his sentence. Alaric's blade, almost forgotten, had lashed out and neatly cut his face off. His body fell to the ground. Alaric pushed himself to his feet, staggering for a moment.

"You.. dont.. want my.. help.." he muttered softly, looking towards the village, left hand around the arrow's shaft.

"No.. No, I suppose.. I.. deserved.. this, too."

A few steps forward, carefully down the road. He stopped, and turned. The horse slowly came up to him, carriage in tow. Alaric smiled at the kind beast.

"I am.. a fool. Home.. I must.. I must get.. home. Give me.. ah. I have.. what I came for, in... in the end. Gods, This.. is all.." A bloody left-hand reached up, and stroked the horse. It shook it's head at the smell of blood.

A loud thud echoed through the forest, as Alaric fell backwards onto the road.

"Insanity."

Then..



Silence.


*([WRITERS NOTE: Journal entry to follow shortly.])*

[Greklin]

Entry five:

Betrayed. Left for dead.

Ah, but I am a fool.

They led me on. I helped them further their own goals, on the pretense that they were helping me with mine. Gods, forgive me. Forgive, please, forgive me, because I am so foolish not to have seen through.

They are all trained now. They can fight if they have to. They have weapons, armor, and they know how to use them. They have over thrown the lord, and made sure that I wouldn't be coming back.

The bolt, it pierced my father's armor, and just barely missed my heart. I have two broken ribs, and nearly died from bleeding.

A few of the villagers took pity on me, and bandaged me before putting me into the cart that was so cleverly used in my demise, and sending me back down the road, towards Waterdeep.

Even now, I am on the virge of tears. I am a fool, I know, but I must go back. They say that I cannot change; but I can, and I shall prove it to them now.

They are blind to the troubles that ail them. A new orc horde is coming, and surely it will attack the village, since it has pre-built defences that would prove useful in the coming months.

Winter is setting in. Doing such monotoneous tasks such as digging foundations, and cutting down logs for walls, are more difficult. Troop movements are hampered by snow and cold, so reinforcements are hard to come by. The dirt freezes, the birds leave, crops no longer grow. That is why they will not burn the village; No, they will capture it, surely, and use it's defenses as their own.

I will not let that happen. I will defend my families home. I will defend those innocents.

I have recieved healing and blessings from a cleric of Tempus. He will send what aid he can when he reaches Waterdeep. But I shouldn't get my hopes up. The villagers wont believe me, I'm sure. But I need not go into the village to defend it.

I will stalk the forests. I know them now, well enough to use them to my advantage.

This thankless task I take upon myself. I do not expect anyone to remember me. I do not expect people to know why I did this. Hopefully they will feel remorse for the sins they have commited against me, but I understand why they did it. I was a complete bastard before I left. And now I intend to set things right, even if it costs me my life.

Bloody gods, how dramatic I'm being! But, I suppose that's just because of fear. Yes, fear, I suppose. We all feel it, and we all deal with it in our own ways.

My way is to voice my dramatic thoughts in this journal which none will ever read! Hah. I wonder what became of the journal I left back at Port Avanthyr? Most likely thrown out, or burned to start a fire.

What am I supposed to say? Am I to explain how I ended up this way? No. No, I wont go that far.

Always good to know what's good for taking blood stains out of your clothes, for this type of work.

In the end, I have always truly been alone. And yet, I have traveled with companions. What am I, but a shield of flesh and bone to stop them from being hurt? Even when I was drunk, I had to protect people. I had to make sure that they wouldnt be damaged. All I asked, all I wanted, was to be left alone. No, that's not true.

I wanted...

What did I want? I dont know. I wanted to be known. I wanted people to remember me. To know that I will in the end be coming back, that I mean something in this world, that I can accomplish something. But I dont. I really, I dont. I am here for one reason alone. I am here to protect others, others who are more powerful than I ever will be. I am here as a springboard, to launch them from where they are, to further, higher levels of power.

And in the end, they ignore me. I end up alone, bleeding. I think so highly of myself, but I am powerless. I am weak, compared to others. I am not as skilled with a blade. I have trained all my life, but I am a failure.

That woman must see this. I will never live up to actually help her in her plan, no. If I survive this foolish task I have set for myself, I will head home. To Sundren. This place, these people.. this is no longer my home.

And I will go to Sundren. And I will die.

I wont dodge the subject. I am not popular. I am not strong. I am not worth talking about. I will die, if I go back. I will do something foolish, undoubtedly, to prove myself. Or to uphold this code of honor I have made for myself.

I am a foolish man, a silly man, and a honorable man.

I have sunk into a depression, I know. That probably drives half of this insane logic, this horribly true, graphic logic that even now pushes me to the brink of tears.

And yet..

I'm not leaving these people to die. I cant, if I wanted to. I have to defend them. I must. It is my duty, exile or not, wanted to not. I will stand outside the gates and take on the entire horde alone, if the Gods will it to happen.

A warrior is not needed. A mage, someone who can apply protective wards, that would turn the tide of this battle. The age of warriors has past.

Gods, but I am getting more depressing as this entry rolls on. And yet, in light of horrible betrayal, I suppose that is acceptable.

But, as I write this, I have been moved past tears. I no longer am afraid to die, as I state my views. I know that it is my duty, that I must, and that there is nothing to fear in dying. What better way for me to die, than repaying those who I wronged in my youth? Than proving that, in the end, a man can change.

I will prove them wrong about me. I will insure that they all live. I will give my life for those that have betrayed me.

Gods, Save your aid for those within the walls. Let them fear no evil, and have the courage to follow the example I will set with my life. I will die, if you promise only to aid them in their strife.

On my own I'm nothing. And yet, I've always been alone. And I've made it this far, havent I?

([Sorry this is late folks. Though I doubt people still read this thread, its gotten a bit depressing and dark. Got suggestions? Want to see Al die? PM me and tell me why.])

[Greklin]

Entry Six:

Victory. Barely a victory, but it is victory. I am a shattered man. I am a damaged man. But I am a man who has won.

And is that not all that I can ask for?

I have proved them wrong about me. I have gained their respect. I have snatched it from the very jaws of the certain doom that was sweeping their way.

But was it worth the price I have paid?

The pain ails me. The orcs nearly killed me, as I fought outside the crudely-fashioned gates of the village. The villagers did aid, I suppose, with the arrows that they shot into the mass. But what won the battle was the reinforcements.

They came for two things. One, to stop the orcish threat before it became a true problem for the city of Waterdeep; the city is always on it's toes. And, secondly, to take care of me. I am, despite my actions, an exile. I have illegally set foot upon the lands that I was never to see again.

Good intentions mean nothing. I broke the law. However, they are letting me leave, sending me north upon this boat, towards Neverwinter. Rumors I have picked up, along the way. War, they whisper, comes to Sundren. War, they whisper, shall destroy the new land of Sundren.

Upon my return, I hope to join with the Legion in it's fight. I will serve the People, and follow the laws as well I can. Waterdeep has no need for me, anymore. I have shown myself capable, and they have insisted that I am useless to them, in so many words. I have spilt my own blood for them, and they ask that I leave.

It is painful, to be unable to return to my homeland, to be banished forever. But, is it my home, anymore? The village has moved on. My family are all dead. I have no holdings there. No heirlooms await my reclaiming. The hearth of the manor warms another, in this cold winter.

Clerics refused to heal me, as I was carried through Waterdeep. People shouted at me, and insulted me. But I understand. They know me only as the murderer I once was. They suspect that I was up to no good. But I know, and the gods know, that my cause was righteous.

In Neverwinter, I will find someone who will close the wounds. Until then, I will make do with what medicine the ship's merciful captain can provide me, and make sure that the wounds are well-bound, the bandages clean.

I have new charges leveled against me. I have murdered a villager, Lein. I have instigated an uprising of the peasents. I have been a bandit. I have illegally entered the country. For all intents and purposes, I am lucky they did not hang me. Instead, I was sent out from the city again.

Luck. Is that what I must call this turn of events? I suppose I expected that I would be greated rather as a hero, after having saved the villagers. After having stood alone against many. But, that was foolish. I was illegally aiding them, in all aspects. I was leading them down a dark path, though with good intention.

I am a fool. I should never have returned. So much must now be done to right the new wrongs. A few of the villagers I fought with were hung, as examples to the rest. The nobleman was reinstated as head of the village, and my holdings. My family tomb was sealed forever.

That settles a few things. I will no longer be buried with my loved ones, though their true burial place remains a secret known to a few trusted colleagues and myself. No, I will be buried elsewhere, if I am buried at all.

How dark my writing has become! Depressing. Horribly, darkly depressing. Tempus still guides me, does he not? War, I go to. War, I have trained to fight.

If Waterdeep wishes not for my blood, then perhaps I shall spill it where it might do some good.

Sundren! How I have missed it. All the troubles that ail that poor land. All the blood that has already been spilt in vain. No, not in vain, I suppose; They died, and die, doing what they know to be right. Defending those who cannot defend themselves.

I will become one of these nameless defenders. I will give my all, in the defense of this land, as if it were Waterdeep. I will put my training to the test, every day. I will make sure that my family name, if not carried on in blood, is carried on in song. In memory.

That is all I truly want, anymore. I dont want to go to a land where I am hated and feared as a murderer. Where I have no relatives, friends, purpose. No. I want only that my failure, my horrible failure, be remembered. That my father, my mother, my wife, that they can look down upon me with pride. I will live twice as much, for my son.

There is nothing but that, now. To be remembered.

Nikolai Alaric, The Murderer. Nikolai Alaric, The Exile.

Nikolai Alaric, The Knight.

Wishful thinking. Brute strength. A strong will.

These things shall aid me in my struggles. And, in turn, my struggles will aid all of Sundren.

Orcs. Goblins. Banites. The Undead. Vampires. Who knows what else. I will destroy them, one at a time if necessary. I doubt that I will be able to do this, alone. But I will not be alone. There are others, friends, allies. I will not fight alone.

The Triumvirate's divine powers. The Legion's physical strength. The Hand's magical prowess. If combined properly, the three would be unstoppable. And yet, the problem is not that they are not strong enough; it is that they are, ultimately, out-numbered.

They are attacked, literally, on all sides. Even upon the inside, by rebels and assassins. A weak government that struggles to control them. Unseen enemies that walk freely anywhere.

They must be taught that, if they show themselves, they will be attacked. That they can be defeated. Allowing them to rule the night, and wander the streets, is foolish. They are powerful. They are many. But so are we.

Brave words, from one who relies upon others for strength and wards. That is how the world works, however.

I shall contemplate these things.

Better, I shall sharpen my sword. I will shine my armor. I will be ready for my return.

I doubt anyone remembers me. Is that good? I suppose, in a way, it is. I was a drunken fool. I insulted people, who would be powerful allies.

I was a rude, obnoxious idiot. I doubt I can make myself up to them.

If they dont remember me, then I suppose that is one way to make myself up. I will literally be re-introducing myself to them. I could hide my identity..

No. I will not travel in shadows again.

I shall approach those that I harmed, and apologize again. I will be calm, and accepting of their judgement; I have earned it. I deserve whatever they throw at me. Their words, their blades; all is welcome. I will show them that I have changed.

But have I?

I must hope so. I must think so.

Tempus, Guide me.