Vallyn's Diary

Entry 1:

This land doesn't want us here. Others don't see it yet. Idiots. Douman rambles on and on about the discoveries we're going to make, Lina is blind to anything that doesn't promise money in her pocket, and who knows what goes on in Eglath's head? Gideon has an inkling, maybe. At least he takes our situation seriously.

Should start at the beginning. Something tried to stop us reaching our destination. The night before spotting land, we were assailed by an immense storm, I believe conjured by a massive entity that passed beneath the ship. Nobody else saw it. My dreams were troubled and I might have dismissed what I saw, but Eglath had visions of a 'great fish' while down in the ship's hold.

In any case it's the fleet's problem now. We rode out the worst of the storm, though it cost us two crewmen. Others were injured. I doubt they'll be the last.

Sighted land around noon. Ancient cliffs loomed out of the mist, grey and silent as tombstones. No sign of habitation until we spotted a decapitated pyramidal ruin. Douman and Theron were greatly excited and spoke at length. Not once did they spare a thought for the practical dangers or utilities of such a place. I suggested it might make for a secure base camp if it could be cleared out and fortified, but received no reply

Douman vexes me. He seems only partially aware of his surroundings at the best of times. When the ship finally made land, he rushed ashore and threw himself into the dirt like a pilgrim at worship, scooping it into the little jars he carries. Eglath is a little better. He talks less and cares more for the practicalities of life, even if he dresses them up in similar nonsense.

In any case. Once we found a place to land, I enforced some semblance of a marching order and we set off towards the ruins. Gideon's skills as a guide are admirable. Despite never having set foot on this desolate island before, he guided us easily through the forest that separated us from our goal. He's capable and reliable. If the worst happens and the expedition falls apart, I think we could survive by sticking together.

Desolate. I chose that word without thought, but find I can think of no better way to describe this place. The sun barely moves in the sky, shrouding the land in a dismal, murky half-light that robs the world of colour and life. The plants and animals are larger than they should be. We found traces of civilisation as we went - carved stones, some thrown at great force by whatever cataclysm tore the ruin apart, and a makeshift shrine. Hideous thing. Blood and bones set out as offerings, some animal, some human. The others spoke of wyrm cults and human sacrifice like it was an intellectual exercise, a curiosity.

Argued with Douman. He was excited to meet the people who lived here. Pointed to the shrine, asked what made him so sure they would be excited to meet him. Didn't get a convincing answer. No surprise. Knew from the beginning the natives weren't going to be the enlightened recluses he anticipated. Shrine only proved me right. Not much comfort though.

We reached the temple by evening. Enough light left to inspect the exterior. Something had defaced the ruins, though there was no sign of what. Also saw something I can't explain - vision of a raven. It stared at me, then tore away the moss surrounding one of the fallen stones. This was carved on it.

[a copy of the etching is sketched in the margins]

Don't know if it's important. Probably not. Lost so much already, probably only natural my mind would go next. Magic, prophecy, visions...never had any time for them. What's the point? You can't hold them, can't trust them, not like you can with a sword. Steel at least makes sense, even when it's turned to wicked ends.

Temple (don't know why I call it that; just feels like a place of worship) was in no better state inside. Lina saw some of the carvings had been removed rather than defaced. Did someone get here before us? We didn't get very far. Ran into a group of creatures scavenging the ruins. People, I think. They had language, not that we could understand it, but what we could see of them looked hunched and bestial.

Douman and Eglath tried negotiating, using food to earn their trust, but their leader went berserk when he heard Eglath speak in his native tongue. Some conflict between their kind and the giants? Maybe the original Dikarti came from this place. Strange to think I might have some very faint ancestry here.

Suppose it doesn't matter. Probably mistaken anyway. They attacked as soon as Eglath spoke. Battle was a joke. Most fled, and their leader was shredded by magic and archery before I had time to lift my sword.

His armour withstood the only hit I landed. What am I even here for?

The creature combusted itself with magic before we could finish it, forcing our retreat. Decided to call it a day and made camp. Managed to persuade the group to set up in front of the temple rather than go back to the woods; if the natives return in greater strength, they'll be more easily spotted and the entrance can serve as a choke point. We'll make another attempt on the temple tomorrow.

Entry 2:

Night passed uneventfully. Sleep was untroubled, though it seems I was the only member of our band who bothered to bring a tent. Douman and Eglath probably don't care and Gideon might be used to finding his own shelter, but I would have expected it from Lina. Haven't spoken to her much but she strikes me as a city girl. Don't think she has much experience roughing it outdoors. We'll see how she gets on. Storm building; can't say I'm sad we'll be sitting it out inside the ruin.

Strange we weren't attacked, either. Temple's occupants more interested in protecting it than killing intruders? Or maybe the band we ran into were isolated raiders or looters, same as us.

[the last sentance has been crossed out]

Attacked as soon as we stepped into the temple. More of the beast-people, arrayed along an upper catwalk with bows. Spotted their ambush just in time. Almost a dozen of the cowards. Retreated rather than fight; by the time I reached their position the rest of the expedition would have been slain. Eglath broke down a weak wall, emerged into some kind of warren. Thought it might have been where the creatures lived at first, like a rat's nest. Turned out to be a spoil heap. Small creatures like scaly worms feeding on a rotting carcass. Stank like a corpse under the hot sun, rotting flesh and excrement. Is everything on this island wretched and ugly?

Eglath cowed them and we passed by. Suppose having someone who can turn into a bear is useful. Certainly more useful than I've been. Stupid thing to feel bitter about, but I don't know why Theron asked me to be here. That need for a member of the Kingsguard to act as his protector was nonsense.

Seen the looks the others give me at times. Questioning. Not quite pitying, thankfully. Wondering what this washed-up old wreck is doing, stomping around complaining and questioning everything they do.

I can do that, if nothing else. Someone has to keep their feet grounded. Remind them all this isn't some holy promised land or virginal expanse of territory to be conquered.

Pushed out of the carrion-feeder's nest and back into the temple. Progress slowed by a trap - pressure plate connected to a pair of gems in the walls, shooting magic bolts when triggered. Wouldn't have expected that kind of craft from the beast-people. More evidence they're scavengers? Maybe the ones who brought the building down in the first place?

In any case. Used my hand mirror to reflect bolts back into the gems and shatter them. Mirror drew some strange looks. Hah. Maybe they took me for a man this whole time?

Joke.

Found an old store-room. Most of the food spoiled, but we found enough dried meat, hard-tack and cheese to last the day. Also a number of books and a broken sword. Books were blank or indecipherable, full of the strange symbols like the ones carved outside. Curiosity got the better of me. Tried to look up the symbol on the tablet, the one the raven showed me. Stupid. Looked down and there the tablet was, left at my feet waiting to be found.

This land isn't right. Magic hangs in the air like fog. Don't trust it, don't trust my own senses. Thought about smashing the tablet to spite whatever power keeps pushing it under my nose. Couldn't bring myself to. Suppose I'm too used to following orders. Shoved it in my pack with everything else.

Sword was more interesting. Looked Western. The script on it was almost recognisable. I offered to reforge it, if we could find or establish a smithy. No point. Douman snapped his fingers and repaired it with magic. Made me want to gag.

This is my problem with magic. It's too easy. Learning to forge taught me respect; for the strength of my arm, the resilience of the metal, the effort of those who earn their livelihood that way. Every blow of the hammer is a conscious act that, through honest work and struggle, slowly and meaningfully brings order into the world. Magic teaches you that the world is a protean thing that can be bent and warped to suit your most casual whim. Makes you arrogant and cruel at worst. Or at best like Douman, half-mad and detached from other people.

Anyway.

Script was still difficult to read. Some words definitely Western in origin. Seemed to be a story. Similarities to the parable of the Black Queen, an ancient figure who led a nation, only to be cast down by God for defying Him when He called her up to join His crusade. Church used it to explain why they kept women out of power. Always thought it was a myth.

Not stupid enough to think finding it is a coincidence. Too similar to my own history.

Nothing like this is happening to the others. Why me?

Took the thing regardless. It's longer than my old broadsword, but balanced well enough that the extra weight isn't a problem. No doubt it would turn up again and again until I accepted it anyway.

Passage ahead blocked. Enough room for Eglath to transform and squeeze through. Writing this while we wait for him to return.

Entry 3:

Turned out to be an eventful day. Made first contact with something that didn't try to kill us on sight. Eglath returned bringing word of a massacre. Fish-people torn apart and strewn everywhere, apparently victimised by a lycanthrope. More of them living in submerged chambers under the temple. Enemies of the beast-men? Warring clans, original occupants of the temple? Who knows. Decided to venture down, try speaking to whichever side we found first. Thought they might prove friendlier than the beasts. Also don't think we could have stopped Eglath going after the lycan if we'd wanted to. Too enamoured by the promise of seeing a living Dikari legend in the flesh.

He's more like the Stri than he thinks. Too eager to put faith in old stories. Too quick to assume the figures from them are as eager to be found as he is to find them.

Passages almost too small to navigate. Cold and miserable journey. Had to spend most of it hunched and shuffling sideways. Still took most of the skin off my shoulders. Miss having pauldrons. Sold them four years ago, I think? For drinking money. Stupid waste. Probably wouldn't have fit through the tunnel anyway.

Little of interest in the chambers. Walls unadorned. Heaps of bone, some scrimshawed by the fish-people. Did find the cavern beneath where we found the beast-men yesterday. Flooded and full of sharks. Had to dump most of the supplies we took from the store room into the water to keep them distracted. Douman recovered the remains of the beast-man leader's sword. Something useful for once; if he can discover what magic was bound into it, he might be able to devise counterspells. Good. Practical. Would like to think he's learning.

Fish-people fled at the sight of us. Stunted things, wet scales and hollow fangs. Not natural fighters. Seemed to be transporting something. Suffered sporadic attacks and ambushes, none that caused us injury. Interesting note about their spears though; hollow and designed to fragment on impact. Shower of splinters to catch in wounds. Unpleasant weapon, especially if poisoned. Little ability to penetrate armour though.

Really miss those pauldrons.

Eventually chased them down to another chamber which opened out above the sea. Fish-creatures diving into the sea with whatever they took from the temple (bones? Those tablets Lina saw missing?).  Some sort of sacrificial altar, covered in corpses. Purple woman with the lower body of a snake overseeing their efforts, guarded by two pale, sharklike humanoids abusing the lycan. Not immediately hostile, which was a surprise. Douman went forwards to speak with the female. Tried using magic to shape words in the earth rather than speaking a language which might offend. Friend, greetings, so on. Didn't work. Serpent tried to bewitch him for his efforts, so we attacked.

Went about as well for them as you might expect. Lycan got loose in the fighting, tore the Serpent apart. Savage thing. Almost turned on it after that display. She had charms - countermagic of some kind. Didn't help much up close. Good to know if we find another of her ilk. Gideon and myself dropped one of her bodyguards. Other fled into the sea. Can't say I blame him.

Felt good to swing a sword again. Never enjoyed killing people, not like some other soldiers, but when necessary there's satisfaction in fighting well and protecting others. All I'm good at, really. Hopefully the survivor will pass word of what happened. If we meet these fish-creatures again, they'll know not to challenge us. Or bring more soldiers. Knowing this place probably the latter.

Chamber started shaking. We made haste to leave, fearing an earthquake until something came out of the water. Construct of some kind. Bone idol, huge and serpentine. What the fish-person labourers were gathering materials for, I think. Sacrifices used to awaken it? Probably. Sort of foulness that permeates this place. It gathered up the bodies of the Serpent and her guard, then returned to the waves.

Sudden thought. Could that thing be what I saw pass beneath the boat?

No way to tell. Returned to the temple tired, cold and wet. Lycan came with us. Brought some of the bodies from around the altar, left the temple to bury them. Decided to set up camp in the store room. Had just gotten a fire started and my armour off when Eglath charged in, demanding Douman's attention.

Apparently the lycan understood Dikari and wasn't driven to kill anyone who spoke it. Still only spoke his own language, but Douman was able to translate a few words. Enough to make intentions clear. It mentioned the Black Queen again. Seemed impressed when I showed it the sword.

If I have to play some folklore heroine to get them to co-operate, fine. Better than having them try and kill us like everything else on this desolate island. We're being taken to its village apparently. Not sure it's a good idea to venture further inland without informing our crew or making sure they've established a proper stockade on the beach. Temple won't work as a camp, not with that construct-thing able to rise out the water and attack it at any moment.

Got to stay practical. Don't let this places' tricks get the better of me. Only way we're going to survive.

Entry 4:

Civilisation of a sort. Lycan's village hidden in marshy ground within the forest, much of it built into the trees themselves. Would have been hard to find without our guide. Mixed population, most reptiles of some variety. Large crocodilian woman acting as some manner of guard or enforcer. Smaller creatures watched us from the trees as we were brought in. Reminded me of the little skinks I saw in the East.

Lycan's name is Torja. Managed to speak with him as we walked. Language barrier makes things difficult but we can make ourselves understood. Mostly pestering him with questions about the land and it's peoples. Hardly small talk but the more we know, the better. Fortunately seemed willing to indulge us.

Beast-creatures are called Hunfar, fish-people Djusynir . Were apparently slaves to one of the old God-Wyrms, which ruled here long ago. Torja claims his people and ours (human? Dikari?) also lived here but were worshipers, not slaves. Seems like we're starting to make some inroads there. Even managed to translate a few words myself. Good to feel useful.

Torja brought us to a public house of some kind. Asked us all if we were friends. Lina seemed less than enthusiastic. Can't blame her, but he's offered us nothing but help which we can't afford to lose. So yes, friends. As friendly as one can be with a seven-foot tall wolf-man. Brought inside, given seats around a fire-pit and hot food. Stewed roots and meat. Small pleasures. Better than some of the mush I've had to eat on the march.

Met their leader as we ate. Looked human. Spoke an old Dikari dialect thankfully. Lina was the only one who couldn't understand. Have to teach her the basics, time permitting. Called herself 'the witch', no name, just a title. Spoke more about the land and it's history, asked us what our intentions were. Douman told her that we were explorers and don't mean any harm. True enough I suppose. She seemed to accept it. Not sure if I trust her intentions but she doesn't seem to mean us any harm. Might change once the Fleet arrives.

Apparently not the only one seeing things, noticing odd happenstances. One of the books Douman found was special somehow, some magic I don't understand. The way Theron came to know of this place suspicious as well. Not sure how I feel about this. Relief to know I'm not the only one. Not going crazy. But all this talk of fate? Witch told us there were no coincidences here. Something about gods dying, changing the land. Don't know if I believe that part, but means I was meant to find the Black Queen's sword.

Made a lot of mistakes in my life but I've always owned up to them. Taken responsibility. My actions, my choices. Don't like the idea that I'm ruled by something greater here, whether it's Gods or fate or something else entirely. Seems absurd. Tell myself I could throw the sword away at any time. Drop it in the swamp and forget about it. But I won't. Longer than my old one, better balanced. Would be impractical not to use it. Is it fate if you see the other path, but choose not to take it?

Uncomfortable with that thought. Should talk to Douman about this. Eglath as well maybe.

Suppose it doesn't matter for now. On the road again. One of the Witch's people found our boat. Crew gone, massacred or enslaved by the Hunfar. Four survivors taken to a fortified camp. She didn't seem concerned. Said if fate wanted them dead, there was nothing to be done.

Rot with that. Don't give two whits about the fleet but these are our people. Got us across the ocean in one piece. Fate can go hang. Witch pointed us towards a local warlord with reason to hate the Hunfar. Some form of relation. Gave us a magic scroll which will call him to us if we use it in the right place. Not sure what we have to offer him. Have to work something out.

Entry 5.

Surrounded by idiots. Douman and Eglath argued over the scroll. Magic went wrong. Explosion echoed for miles. Thankfully just sound and light, but every Hunfar from leagues around must have heard the noise. Gideon found some caves which might lead into the camp. Going there now. Have to cope on our own.

Knew from the moment I got on that boat I wasn't going home; doesn't mean I intend on dying here. Might need to cut the dead weight loose. Gideon only other member of the expedition reliable and trustworthy enough to stick with. Hope it doesn't come to that. Still making preparations though.

Shared food with our guide, one of the little skinks from Torja's camp. Seems nice. Will get on better with the locals than my fellows at this rate.

Entry 6.

Been a while since I helped sack a town. Just like I remember it, all noise and chaos. Blood, fire, fear. Turns out the scroll was partially salvageable. Held off a Hunfar patrol while the mummers danced and chanted. Killed most of the Hunfar myself. Bit proud of that. They rage and bellow like ferocious beasts but die as easily as anyone else. Should propose another venture into that temple now that we've got their measure.

Concerned about the sword though. Blood and viscera absorbed by the blade; ran in currents towards the cracks where it was reforged and was sucked inside. Lina and Gideon both think it's cursed. Douman was more open-minded. For once, I agree with him. The vampire-kings back home carried weapons which drank blood, and they did nothing but good for us. Have to experiment with it. Fortunately if this place has one thing in abundance it's creatures trying to kill us.

Anyway. Ritual worked, summoned Vindbraag. Or a shade of him. Something we could talk to. Thankfully he used a language we understood and dispensed with the cryptic nonsense everyone else here talks in. Heard our case and offered a pact; his services for ours, a task for a task. Agreed quickly. First thing in this desolate place I understand. Didn't want to raise suspicions of us by trying to twist words or mislead him.

Gideon's path led us through the mountain. Animal attacks along the way. Some local breed of Cockatrice and a pair of burrowing, spider-like creatures. Right bastards, those ones. Tough to bring down and capable of vomiting acid. Almost lost Douman to that trick. Even I felt it. Breastplate's got a few more interesting scars. Arms, too.

Still wish I had my pauldrons.

Came out into an old mine, which led right into the Hunfar camp once Lina was finished stealing everything not nailed down. Vindbraag's forces already attacking. A rabble of all kinds but an effective one, banded together under the term 'Skraelings'. Saw tamed wyverns, giant bears similar to Torja, more lizard-people, strange dryads and others. Impressed he managed to get them organised and into battle so quickly. Was a pleasure to throw the gates open and be swept  along with the tide. Their fighters were wild, vital and ferocious.

Put the Hunfar to the sword. No women or children to deal with. Thankfully. Raises questions though. Purely a military camp? Hunfar infants and females kept apart for safety? Somehow all-male, some kind of magical warrior race? Who knows. Not complaining. Less to worry about. It was a blessing to lose myself in the fight, knowing it was for a righteous cause, beside worthy allies and against a deserving foe.

Eventually found our captives, three of them at least. Apparently one escaped on her own. No idea if we'll find her. With luck she'll survive long enough for the Fleet to arrive and link up with them. Others mostly in good health despite their encounter. Dikari crewman had been tortured. Eglath thinks he'll survive. Tough people. He's with them now, treating their wounds and making sure no Hunfar stragglers find them. Not that there could be many left.

Can hear Vindbraag's people tearing the town down outside. Douman and Lina going to see what's salvageable. Might as well go with them, keep them safe.

Entry 7.

Drunk again. Angry again. Alone in the dark again, nothing but this journal for company.

Helped Douman and Lina break into an abandoned fort. Hunfar avoided it. Superstitions I suppose. Massive place, built for the original Dikari ancestors. Not much of value. Baubles of no practical use. Suppose Lina will sell them. Greedy little bitch.

Met Vindbraag. Looked like a Miyur but not. Paler, patches of scales...beautiful, golden eyes, slitted like a reptile's pupils. Not ashamed to admit I wanted him. Always did have a thing for pretty men.

Stupid. Doubt he'd look twice at a chewed-up old relic like me.

We talked. Took us to a chamber in the fort. Showed us a...device, ancient and broken, all magic and metal rings. Claimed it allowed transport to anywhere on the island, if it could be repaired. Bequeathed the fortress to us and proposed an alliance between his people and the Fleet. Invited us to participate in the night's celebrations before his Skraelings departed.

Others seemed less than impressed. Vacillating. Like we're going to get a better offer. Idiots. Bloody bastard Fleet is going to be here any day now. Alliance might show them these people don't have to be fought. Reign in their worst impulses.

Thinking about them makes me angry. Same people as my family. Callous soldiers looking to make a name for themselves and merchants eager to carve up the land, take what isn't theirs. Bastards bastards bastards. Would drive them all back into the sea if I could. This might be a miserable chunk of rock but it doesn't belong to them. Keep thinking about our guide, Nihil. Torja. Skraelings I fought beside. They don't deserve to lose their homes. Don't want to let what happened in the old world happen here.

The Black Queen spat in God's eye and lost everything for it. What's He going to do to me? Not like I can lose any more than I have.

Rambling.

Fourth captive turned up. Torja's people brought her to us. Some...conflict at the gates. Suppose Vindbraag and the Witch's people don't get one. Maybe...try and talk to them, start banding them together. Maybe. Languages in the way.

Few moments of respite at the celebration. Food and drink, simple but in abundance. Joined in the revels. Sports, games, physical competition. Skraelings didn't care who I was or what I'd done. Actually managed to forget everything for a while, won a bit of respect from them. Felt like I could find some happiness here. The others ruined it, because of course they would.

Vindbraag approached us, just as inebriated. Talked about what he wanted from us. Said we were to find some pieces of a dead god or spirit or something and bring them back to him. Simple enough. For this place at least. Just find them and bring them back.

Eglath went berserk. Never seen him look frightened before but the idea terrified him. Wouldn't stop rambling nonsense, telling us we shouldn't trust him. Others held their tongues but didn't seem impressed. Soon as Vindbraag was gone they started talking about stabbing him in the back. Not doing the job, doing it and not bringing him the things, whatever they are. Even killing him.

Bloody bastard cowards. We agreed. Made a pact. Vindbraag and his lot are the first, only thing on this island that makes sense. We can deal with them. Work with them. But that's not good enough. Honourless, whining pissants.

And Lina. Little bitch. Started throwing insults about. Taking about how she only cares about going home rich. This place, these people don't mean anything to her. She's just as bad as the bastard Fleet. Little quisling...she's a Miyur, thought she of all people would understand the crimes done to her people. Would have been better if she had been swept overboard in the storm.

Couldn't stand any more after that. Stormed off. Sitting in the fort now, alone. Probably best. Clear now I can't rely on any of them. That's fine. Used to surviving on my own anyway. I have my sword. All I need.

Entry 8

Funny how much difference a day makes. Embarrassing looking back over what I wrote last night. Suppose I can blame the drink, and at least it's better here on paper than coming out loud in front of the others.

So. What changed?

Made contact with the Fleet. Lit a bonfire at the top of Sardakrokur, our new fortress, to act as a signal and three gryphon riders soon tracked us down. Good people, I think. Full of cheer. Told us the Fleet had been scattered by the storms. The ship carrying my Western kin was the only one to reach our destination. The others - one carrying guildsmen and their mercenaries, the other laden with Ampior militants - were scattered down the coast, all free to make their own way further into the island. No doubt the latter two will leave a trail of blood in their wake, but it gives us an opportunity.

'Us'. Who is us? My party? Wouldn't surprise me if Lina sided with the merchants and Eglath refused to side with anyone just to be obtuse. The natives and myself?

We'll see. Either way. Fleet couldn't have been challenged as a single entity. Even if it was destroyed, too many innocents would have gone down with it. Necessary to preserve Fronheim's inhabitants but still upsetting. Now it's broken. Each faction can be delt with or destroyed individually. No need to worry about the whole rising up if one part is struck. I trust my kinsfolk to reign in their worst impulses, but the Ampior, and the merchants with their pet armies, will have no such decency.

For the first time since setting foot in this land I think it might have a chance. Eject the other two factions, promote a small town for the Westerners...trade peacefully with the native peoples, study their language, their history. It could work. Could. Spent my whole life looking for a cause worth lending my blade to, something rightful and good...

Suppose it's the cynic in me but I don't want to mention the idea to the others yet. Don't want to commit to it this early. But there's a little hope here.

Only one fly in the ointment. Hiked down to where the Westerners landed to speak with their leader, saw my family's banners staked out in the sand. House Wensley. Lord-Commander Payne even called me by that name. Barely recognised it at first, like some old relic dragged back into the light after years buried underground. Not sure who our representative is. Father would be too old now. Hope it's not that bastard Ortho. He always had too much pride in our crusading history.

Deal with that when I come to it. Maybe the Lord-Commander can keep them in line. It's reassuring having the Vampires around. Eglath took badly to him, but I trust he'll come around.

Went to see the Witch once we'd checked in with the Westerners. Others still doubtful about Vindbraag and his motives. Played along, didn't want to start another argument. Witch proved me right. Told us he was anything but a liar or an oathbreaker, that he cares for his people. That this...god he wants us to help reassemble is part of his need to leave a legacy, and that he was made by the ancient wyrms as a concubine of some kind.

Also claimed I'd fallen for Vindbraag's charms. Nonsense. He is easy to work with and his goals laudable, so I fight his corner.

Another thing. More talk of fate. Apparently it only binds people born in this land. Outsiders like ourselves are still free to do what we wish. Change the fates of others, for better or worse.

Suppose Douman or Eglath could go into the philosophical meanings of that. Imagine they will in time. More concerned with the practical effects. Why did I find that sword if fate doesn't have a hand over me? How tightly does it grip the people who live here? Vindbraag mentioned he could only play his part, that there were things he couldn't do. Must be dreadful. Should speak to him about it if the chance arises. Another perspective might help me understand. Keep it in mind for the future.

For now, the Hunfar again. The Western fleet aims to garrison Sardakrokur, but the Hunfar are massing an army to retake it. Need to find allies among the locals. To that end, the Witch told us of her sister. A queen among the shifters, like Torja, only missing. If we find her, we may be able to secure the use of her army. In practical terms that is reason enough, but if she is in danger, we have a duty to lend what aid we can.

Hah. Look at that. Starting to sound like a knight again.

Entry 9.

On the road. Headed off to find the Witch's sister. Weather here is still awful, lashed with wind and rain the whole way, but it's the coast. Suppose that's to be expected. Need to get a thicker cloak. Locals here might not be much for smithing and stonework but I'm sure I can find someone to stitch hides.

Interesting sight along the way though - submerged cities being picked clean by the Dyjusnir. Same as they were doing at the temple. Dismantling certain parts and carrying them away. Maybe rebuilding them in another location? Certainly seems more respectful than the other groups we've seen. Hunfar barely recognise the significance of the halls they squat in and the Skraelings are bent on destroying anything touched by the Wyrms. Douman incensed either way. Because when he loots an ancient tomb and spirits its valuables away to places unknown, it's different.

Passed into a network of underground tunnels. Apparently they run all across this land. Would be an enormous benefit if they could be cleared out and mapped. Our tunnel ran under the water, leading to one of the outer islands. Never been afraid of tight spaces but that put me on edge. Having all that water over my head, with nowhere to go and nothing to do if the roof caved in...

Bah.

Almost a relief when we ran into enemies. Strange things, like man-sized ants. Tried to talk to them with every language we knew, did no good. Had to put them down. Not one of then ran or showed the slightest fear, even as we killed them. Fought like demons on the way out though; walked away with a few new scars for the collection.

Didn't think of it at the time but I'm not sure they were alive. Not properly. They turned to stone and came apart upon death, and my sword didn't absorb their blood. Some sort of golem or elemental creation?

We destroyed one party and Eglath hid us from the others. Must have been dozens in the surrounding passages; heard them moving, scratching at the walls, getting ready to swarm us. Saw a huge, quadrupedal creature among them. Rather glad we didn't have to fight that one. Funny though, ran into another just before reaching the exit. Man-sized like the ones we fought, but more intelligent-looking. Sure it saw us, despite Eglath's spell. Didn't attack or shout a warning, just took flight and vanished.

Odd. Still. Out now and onwards.

Entry 10.

We almost lost Eglath today. Damnable cowards that call themselves his companions wouldn't risk themselves to go back for him. Had to be me.

Came out of the underway on the outskirts of an old city built up around an enormous tree. Looked deserted from afar; no sign of movement beyond what looked like grazing beasts in the distance. Should have camped outside, regained our strength before pushing on, but made for the city anyway. Massively overgrown, had to hack our way through roots and branches as thick as a man's thigh to get there. My job of course.

Soon found why the city was abandoned. Plague. Rotting organic debris in the streets, unwholesome plants growing in abundance. Flies and centipedes only initial signs of life. Soon found more of a sort. Unquiet dead, corpses held together and made mobile by the plants and vermin. Weren't initially hostile. Decided to board up one of the abandoned houses and take our rest there. Douman talked about the city being corrupt in spirit as well as body. Wasn't inclined to disagree. Not surprised to learn of some magical origin to the pestilence.

Attacked during the night. Endless waves of shambling creatures tore down our barricades, forced their way into our camp. Eglath and myself counter-attacked as best we could before it was obvious the position couldn't be held. Others had fled when I started to fall back. Elgath stayed to fight. Wasn't prepared to abandon him. Douman, Lina, Gideon nowhere to be seen.

Retreat should have been organised. Gideon and Lina giving Eglath and myself cover with arrow fire until we were clear, then us protecting them as we moved. Douman unwilling to use magic due to corruption in the air; could have acted as spotter, leading us out of danger. Cowards routed instead, abandoning us to flee the oncoming hordes. Expected as much from Lina. Disappointed in the others.

Disappointed. No. Weak word. Angry. Bitter. Frustrated. They expect protection but refuse to risk themselves in return. My complaints are met with apathy or mockery. Would leave the selfish wretches to their fate if it wasn't for my duty to protect them.

Miss the Kingsguard. Miss knowing the people either side of me could be trusted and relied upon. Even the formal mercenary outfits I drifted through had something of that, some sense of camaraderie to hold them together. Clear now my 'companions' would abandon me, or any other member of our group, to save themselves in a heartbeat. Wretches.

Eglath and myself cut our way out eventually. Threw lantern-oil on the fire, managed to hold back the tide. Larger creatures among the masses attacked as we caught up with the others. Badly wounded us both. Found a group of Radhulko, wolf-men like Torja, holed up in one of the city's southern districts, using flaming arrows to protect the other three. Helped put several of the larger infected down until Eglath dragged himself under the curtain of their fire. Creatures abandoned their pursuit. Suppose they don't like flame.

Only noticed the Dikari's ailment once we had gathered together. He'd shifted to the form of a bear, had been biting and tearing at his attackers. Infection got inside him...he was rotting, his fingers and teeth dropping out, throwing up blood and pus and worse. Radhulko almost put him down on sight. Douman convinced him to take Eglath inside, asked about a cure. Rest of us going with them. No other option at this point.

I hope it's not too late.

Never would have happened if that worthless trio hadn't routed. Had we fallen back together, clearing each wave as they came for us, the Dikari would not have had to fight so many alone. The disease would not have taken such a strong root in him. He might have shrugged it off upon returning to his natural form.

Might speak to Theron about dissolving my oaths once we've performed Vindbraag's task. Not sure what I would do on my own here, but with each day it becomes more appealing than binding myself to this band of grasping cowards.

Entry 11.

Long day. Lots to write about. Not sure where to start.

Things worked out, sort of. Eglath cured. Whole plague banished. Had been placed on the land by the Disjunyir, part of the ongoing tribal conflicts that dominate the land. Centered on the Raudhklo's temple, poisoning the Wolf Queen, their goddess and the Witch's sister. Had this explained to us by one of the tribe's mystics. Pointed us to their temple. Told us Eglath would have to remain behind, in a healing pool, to control the infection. He and Douman did...something, projected astrally. Sent their spirits along with us.

Raudhklo also linked us up with three other survivors. Other expedition members. Another soldier was amongst them, thankfully. Colin. Good, honest infantryman. Rest of his regiment perished to the disease and its puppets, but he survived. Managed to salvage some of their equipment. The Ampior helped reshape it to fit. Also did something with my sword. Recognised the magic worked into the blade, showed me how to tap into it. Felt a bit silly, waving it around shouting words in a dead language, but worth it when the damn thing burst into flame. The more blood it sheds, the greater the fire it produces when called upon.

Useful. First truly magical weapon I've held. Especially if its history - the Black Queen's history - is accurate.

Hope I can live up to that.

Still no pauldrons though.

Spent the night under the Raudhklo's protection before venturing to the temple. Calmed me down a bit. Suppose I can't entirely blame the others for their actions in the city. None of them have military experience; they aren't used to working together, don't understand the need to risk themselves to protect others. Doesn't change what they did, but might be unfair to have expected more from them. Would be easier to forgive if they showed some desire to learn though.

Anyway. Marched out to the temple. Corruption was sickening. Spores in the air as thick as fog. Rotten creepers and swollen masses of vegetation everywhere. Monsters crept up to oppose us; tainted wolves, Raudhklo, the stronger ones which assailed us before. Hadn't surprised us this time though. Met them in our armour, weapons drawn and ready, and crushed them underfoot. An honest battle against a deserving enemy.

Temple itself was different. Expected more enemies. Found nothing at first, only a shadowed corridor which no light would penetrate. Air felt wrong. Too thin, hazy and dreamlike. Should have known what was coming.

Tests. Wolf Queen might be the Raudhklo's earthly leader, but not their god. Raudhfangi the Hunter ruled that place. Decided we needed to be tested before saving his people and his lands. To prove our worthiness. Which apparently is more important than the lives of those supposedly under his protection.

Just as in the Old World, the gods of his land prove themselves fickle and undeserving of the praise raised in their name. Vindbraag, the Witch, the Wolf Queen; for all their power, they are earthly beings still, and cannot help but to see and be moved by those around them. I would lend by sword to them in an instant, as I would to any worthy lord or lady. But those gods who lurk in the ethereal, passing judgement and demanding worship? I spit on them.

So. The tests. Raudhfangi wished to see how well we knew each other, whether we would suffer or die to protect our 'packmates'. I confess a little pride in decyphering the first, even before Douman or Eglath. It was necessary to identify the greatest hatreds of our companions, match them to the correct individual, then state them aloud. Simple enough. Lina proved remarkedly stubborn in admitting to hers, though why she would be reluctant to admit a hatred of war is beyond me.

The second proved both more and less vexing. We merely needed to admit to our greatest fears. Douman failed...ironic, considering his fear was failure itself. We were beset by visions of our own horrors, forced to undergo them for the sake of our companions. I saw my family again. Or how I imagine them to look. Smug and all-powerful, once more secure of their position, eager to pass judgement on their wayward daughter.

Came close to failing myself. Would I willingly go to stand before my father and accept his judgement? No. Would I do so to protect Gideon? Eglath or Douman? Lina?

One life for four. My duty is to protect others, even to the point of death. Even Lina, who has proven herself unworthy of that protection, for refusing her would strip me of what little honour I still have. So I said yes. That, it seemed, was enough.

Finally, brought face to face with the Hunter. Demanded to know what would have happened had we failed his tests. Told only that we would have died. No mention of his people, who would have rotted away to nothing. Should have pressed harder. Forced answers from him. Forced a justification. Didn't. Was too cowed. Hatred of the divine doesn't leave me blind to its power. So we finished up his tests. Admitted to our greatest shames. Told the others about the slaughter at Bodhanoff. Left me feeling soiled. Dirty. None of them mentioned it afterwards. Don't know if it changes their estimation of me.

Learned a little of them, though. Most of us let someone down. Suppose that's no real surprise. Gideon, though. Ashamed he left his family business to hunt monsters? World has no shortage of bakers. It can afford to lose one if he's willing to be its protector. Don't understand why that haunts him.

In any case Raudhfangi seemed satisfied. Gave us his blessing to carry on with our task. Can't help but wonder what would have happened if he'd refused and tried to send us away. Might have had to fight a god to stop him from stopping us saving his followers.

Idiotic. Suicidal. Probably would have tried it anyway on principle.

Didn't come to that. Was returned to the temple. Found the source of the corruption in its main hall. Might have been a tree once before the blight took root in it. Or the plague warped itself into the shape of a tree to mock its surroundings. Had merged with several of the Raudhklo. Just heads and claws left, yowling on in idiocy, thrashing at us as we attacked. Couldn't tell the wood from the flesh. Monstrous, awful thing. Calum and I held it off with our steel while the others rained fire and spell from afar. It died.

Bards would make the story sound better. Turn it into some epic clash of arms. Reality more prosaic.

Or maybe I'm just jaded. The thing dragged the two of us inside it near the end. Had to tear our way out. Punched through rotten wood, tore vines with my bare hands. Maybe that's more worthy of being recorded in song.

Corruption died off with it. Withered before our eyes, like watching meltwater receed under the sun. Expected that to be the last of it, but no. Passed the infected Raudhklo we slew on our way out, found them confused, but whole and untainted. Thought this would be...damage limitation, just trying to save the survivors. Coming down those steps made me feel like I'd witnessed a miracle.

That's that. Recovered an artifact from the tree - the Wolf Queen's heart. Her recovery should be swift once we bring it back to her priestesses. Suppose Eglath will be back on his feet again when we get there. Everything wrapped up nicely for once.

Entry 12.

On the road again. Back to Vinbraag's task, hiking up into the mountains to find a seer who can point us to our goal. Deep in Hunfar territory. Haven't run into any yet, but we passed a fort they'd carved into the mountains. Resting for the night in the ruins of a village they sacked. Grim but necessary. Weather getting steadily worse, though Eglath claims the storm will pass tomorrow. Lina and Gideon struggling with the cold and snow. Douman complains like he's dying but still making good progress. Say what you like, Stri are tough.

Witch and the Wolf Queen had history with Vindbraag. Overheard them talking; Torja, Nihil and the Witch arrived at the Raudhklo fortress shortly after we brought the heart back. Apparently he cheated them of something, manipulated them to do his bidding? Should keep that in mind when dealing with him in the future. Makes no difference in the short term though. Honourbound to see his quest through to its conclusion. Might be interesting to hear his side of things if I can catch him alone.

Saw something interesting on our way back to Sardakrokur. Merchants from the Western contingent of the fleet interacting with the locals. Haggling over prices, when they could make themselves understood. Looked peaceful. Didn't get the impression they were trying to cheat or exploit anyone. Good to see. Maybe they can get along here after all.

Oh; apparently one of the infected Raudhklo we saved was Torja's father. Happy ending gets happier.

Entry 13.

Almost died today. Forced to choose between three paths as we progressed up the mountains; up a sheer cliff face, through Hunfar territory, or into a series of tunnels we hoped might lead to the seer, Kuth, who in turn could point us towards Vindbraag's lost god-fragments. Pushed hard for the cliffs but was argued down. Others would rather take their chances fighting their way through whatever monsters might lurk within the mountain than scale it, even with the equipment I brought. Wasted a day being led in circles by Gideon before he finally found a cave large enough to enter; found too late some manner of troll already called it home.

Tried, on Eglath's insistence, to speak with it and negotiate our way past. Was ambushed for our trouble. The beast had a pack of serpentine cats as its pets. Broken rather than trained, but dangerous enough to occupy us while it set about with its hammer. Took a blow to the chest early into the battle. Caved my chest in. Felt ribs breaking like matchsticks before losing consciousness.

Such are the rewards this wretched world bestows on the good and honourable.

Awoke to Eglath's healing magic and the troll dead from Lina's arrows. Impressive shot through its eye. Good to see she still pulls her weight on occasion. Never would have happened had we taken the cliffs though.

Stopped overnight in the cave to rest and treat our wounds. Lina found the pen in which the cat-snake creatures, apparently known as Tatzelwurms, were bred. One kitten still alive. Others dead. Girl took it as a pet, despite Eglath's advice otherwise. Something from that farce of a day. Rest of the trip considerably easier. Weather calmed as we neared the peak. Found Kuth easily enough.

Not what I expected though. Shape-changer and hoarder. Passed artifacts older than the other ruins we've encountered frozen into the ice. Strange treasures and keepsakes. All led up to the seer's cave. Kuth took form of giant raven, shifted into more humanoid form on our arrival. Made us solve riddles before giving an answer. Worked one out myself, even before Douman could. First Raudhfangi's tests, now this. Maybe the Stri's slipping.

Either way. Pointed us to our goal and kicked us back out the cave. Apparently not one for talk. Vindbraag's broken god lies in a temple not far from here, back down the mountain. We can collect it, or them, and be on our way.

Ribs still hurt. Need to hammer the dent out of my breastplate. Hopefully time to stop off at Sardakrokur after returning to Vindbraag. Could do with a few days rest after this.

Entry 14.

Success of a sort. On our way back of Sardakrokur with the body of the serpent, Vindbraag's dead god. "Kuth" turned out to be a fraud. Trickster-god by name of Lozec, had thrown his lot in with Thurmyg for pay.

Thurmyg. Don't think I've written about him yet. Not much to write about. One of the old wyrms, if you believe that. Rotten to the core. Set himself up as the Hunfar's deity, or at least their master. Seems intent on killing or subjugating everything he comes across, which is about usual for a god, so who am I to argue?

Lozec's directions sent us straight into a Hunfar ambush. Temple already in ruins, inhabitants butchered. Had just finished laying the bodies to rest with Eglath when they came upon us. Eglath kept us hidden with his magic while they made their demands. Claimed we wouldn't be killed, that Thurmyg wished to speak with us.

Didn't believe it. Said we should fight. Temple was defensible enough. Narrow corridors to force them at us one or two at a time. Only had to hold our ground long enough for their morale to break. See how brave they are clawing over a pile of their own dead to get at us. Bastards had a wyvern, but what the hell would that do if they wanted us alive?

But no. Douman, Lina and Gideon too tired. Not in a fit state to fight. Gideon convinced the other two to surrender. Didn't have much choice but to follow. Should have stayed, maybe. Made a point of it. Or called their leader out in single combat. Faced them down with honour like a proper knight would have done. Didn't, obviously.

Eglath saved something from the whole debacle. Shapeshifted into a spider and hid in my pocket. Hunfar couldn't find a trace of him. Eventually accepted Douman's claim he'd fled, bagged the rest of us around the head and took us back to their lair. Assume Eglath slipped away from me at some point during the journey. Hunfar knocked me out, nothing but darkness until I woke with the others in their prison. Caged like animals alongside other natives; mostly fauns, most in dreadful condition. Kuth, the real Kuth, imprisoned as well.

He spoke a while. Told us the Hunfar had been guardians of order once, until the Father came to this land and made them His own. Said it would be possible to free them if we slew Him. That we could do so by just...stabbing him.

No. Don't believe it. Too much coincidence. Hoped coming here would be an escape from Him and the shadow He has cast over my family and its history. The idea that Father was already present, waiting, with a legion of foes I would be driven to fight time and time again, and that He could be defeated like any other creature...

No.

Credibility stretches only so far. That the Hunfar were once something else, that I accept. That they could be restored to their original forms, that too. Kuth evidently seeks to manipulate us to that end and sought to provide us with motivation to do his bidding. Likely Thurmyg is the true source of their corruption, though how he expects us to destroy such a creature is beyond me.

In any case. Eglath found us in the form of a weasel. He told us of a route out and the location of our captured equipment. Made assumptions about him before. Regret that now. He may be stubborn and ill-tempered, but we would all be dead many times over without him. Lina unlocked our cell and after overpowering the guards, recovered our weapons and set about freeing the other prisoners. Kuth and his allies went deeper into the Hunfar's lair to access the lower cells while we cleared a way to the exit.

Wasn't easy. Hunfar fought like demons. Felt like I could barely match them in strength. Most died to Gideon and Lina's bow fire as they tried to get past me. Embarrassing. Fighting is supposed to be my job, the whole reason this expedition hired me on. What's the point of being here if I can't do that? Leadership? None of them listen to me anyway. Wanted to go back, hold off the Hunfar while Kuth liberated his friends. Probably would have been the end of me. Wish I hadn't been talked out of it.

Made it to the surface. Slow, grinding battle through the sentries posted there. Hunfar used a system of corrupt obelisks, loci of dark magic, to slow and weaken us. Douman shattered them from afar while the rest of us pushed through. Felt like we weren't going to made it until Kuth's allies appeared. Swept away the last of the opposition and made good our escape.

And here we are. Marching back to Sardakrokur. Kuth, it seems, slipped Eglath the body of the serpent when none of us were looking. Looked like a piece of rope, if you believe that. I expected bones, or snakeskin, or some sort of bodily remains...even pieces of statue or gemstones. But, no. Rope. Every time I think this land is becoming less obtuse, it takes great pleasure in disproving me. Eglath wants time to study it. I would rather it was delivered back to Vindbraag promptly. Hunfar making the decision for us. Can see signs of their siege force moving on Sardakrokur from here. Just smudges in the distance; dark shapes on the road proceeded by wyverns overhead, smoke trails from temporary army camps. Returning to Vindbraag too dangerous. Can't risk sending the serpent out by courier either. Have to keep it with us until the siege is lifted and the roads safe again.

And if we die, at least Vindbraag will know where to start looking again.

Prisoners still with us. Coming back to Sardakrokur. Don't know if the fortress' food supply can stretch to cover another two hundred mouths during a siege. Some of them can fight, at least, though it doesn't feel right throwing them back into battle. We'll see.