Author Topic: The Journal and Diary of Joachim Schrötter  (Read 582 times)

BraveSirRobin

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The Journal and Diary of Joachim Schrötter
« on: March 28, 2018, 05:47:19 AM »
Quote from: First Entry, 28. März 773

First Entry, 28. März 773 BC.

     There is merit, somewhere, to keeping one's thoughts written and confined to a piece of paper that nobody would ever read, or find until he was dead. To take the voice, the internal monologue that you cannot seem to quite silence and give it a body. Something I have overlooked the value of in my years as a simple Farmer back in Falkovnia, where the most troublesome thoughts I harbored were related to feeding animals or harvesting crops. Most of that was utterly and completely automated, the daily habits and routines I went about, not seeing the larger world beyond the farmstead. Born and raised as I was, there was not an inherent fear of what lays beyond, but knowledge that eventually your solace from this life would be death, something ultimately to be welcomed. To many, disease and war brought that to them early; to others it was brought slowly by age. Little room for dissent or free thought and no room for choice. You served because it was what you were born to do, your place in what limited roles society would allow you. You learned duty, albeit grudgingly and you learned discipline. These are the things I can say serve as a constant in my life. Duty. Discipline.


Now I find myself in Dementlieu only a year after escaping the terror that is Falkovnia. A land that I thought far above the murder and tyranny of the KingFürher's men, only to find that it is not whether one is Falkovnian, Dementlieuse, Mordentish, a Blausteiner.. Barovian. Ghastrian? Borcan. It is not the label of which we give upon ourselves as men, that makes us who we are. It is not the brand upon our heads, the color of our eyes, the hue of our flesh. It is the very nature of Humans, of sentient beings to scheme and contrive to win power over one another. This is a constant that transcends nations, ethnicities and even worlds. Humans, if left unchecked are capable of such utter terror and treachery that it truly matters not just where you are from, but what you personally are capable of. I thought the best of this new Country that I call home, I thought of it, the Gendarme to be the utter embodiment of what can be, men, not of war, but of peace, maintaining it. However, given the excuse and freedom, the slack of their leash to let loose their sequestered urges and desires, they are just as much an animal as any Falkovnian at heart. The only true difference between Falkovnia and Dementlieu is that while Dementlieu will attempt to hide what urges these men hold, what these men of Dementlieu - born and held at heart, are capable of - not limited to simply the Gendarme, but the stock from which they are born - that Falkovnia will encourage and reward it. The KingFürher Vlad Drakov recognizes this inevitable truth in a manner I have never given him credit for, and he nurtures it. Grows it - until it reaches a point of perfection, then he unleashes his starved, wild dogs upon the Core to wreak havoc.

In some comparisons, I could attribute what I have heard of the Duc of Ameranthe to be of similar aptitude. What his men, and those who follow his cause are capable of. The murder and defiling of a Husband and his Wife, what their plans for their children would have ever been had we not arrived in due time. When I walked upon that farmstead, I saw what happened to them, as what happened to my own family. My mother, defiled by Talons and murdered. My Sister, a similar fate. My Father? He was given the worst of it. All three of them saw a public impalement, defiled, bloody, mangled. It flashes before my eyes constantly in an endless stream of torment and misery, waking me in the night and distracting me by day. I would see each of those mongrel dogs put to the blade or ended by my bullet. Alas, I am a Falkovnian and whatever words I may have on the subject would fall on deaf ears, even if said ears knew I was right. Even if I could change this place, to make a difference, I am not one who would be granted the honor and opportunity. I am a humble servant of the Republiqué. I am a Soldier, suturing the wounds of the bleeding and dying to sustain the constant bloodshed that forever plagues Dementlieu. I am a man who has loved and lost, over and over again to the point where I can barely recall memories I hold dear, locked away by some mechanism of the human mind to avoid pain.

I am sanguine, yet ultimately exhausted.
   

BraveSirRobin

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Re: The Journal and Diary of Joachim Schrötter
« Reply #1 on: March 28, 2018, 05:39:17 PM »
Quote from: Second Entry, 28. März 773

Second Entry, 28. März 773 BC.


     Duty. Discipline. Two constants that will never leave my side or my mind, the very essence of who I am engraved into my bones and burned into my soul. But how it is I am to fulfill these, in a land such as this is forever eluding me and bringing me to a darker, less favorable state of mind. I find myself constantly second-guessing what I am doing, disbelieving everything I am told and scrutinizing it for the mollusk of truth burrowed somewhere within. It is becoming an exhausting task, despite what resources I have at my disposal. This is, however, the land I am within; the duties I am given within it leave me emboldened to the following day. But for how long can one constantly drive themselves upon a goal of which cannot be completed without the truth? Perhaps that is something I will never know; something so sacred to those I serve that I will never find myself truly satiated. I must not allow myself to give quarter to these darker thoughts of deception and hatred. I must not succumb to the very nature of the beast itself, lest I fail to slay it where it stands. I will not allow this land to change me in such a way that I forget who I once was. What I believed in, what I would do. With her absence, I feel as though a piece of the future I once saw has escaped through my fingers into the sea, fallen to depths that would crush any man foolish enough to try to retrieve it. Perhaps this is so. Perhaps it is my fate to be crushed by the endless pressure and forces unbeknownst to me in search of the life I pursue. In search of the future that can be, and the taste of progress that lingers on the tip of my tongue.

I must become unwavering and steel myself. I am not unwise, I am not blind, my mind perceives. I know what is happening around me, I just cannot force the feeling in my gut and the logic of my mind to coincide with one-another. I cannot bring harmony to this, but perhaps tranquility and solace in the knowledge that this is my Duty.

"We are all either Kings or Pawns of men. Pieces on a board.
If the man is not the mover, he is the moved."
« Last Edit: March 28, 2018, 09:38:55 PM by BraveSirRobin »

BraveSirRobin

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Re: The Journal and Diary of Joachim Schrötter
« Reply #2 on: March 29, 2018, 06:50:23 AM »
Quote from: Third Entry, 29. März 773

Third Entry, 29. März 773 BC.


     Alas, clarity. I have spent so much time these last few weeks spinning my thoughts and confusion into circles that inevitably stirred the waters around me to the point it was noticeable. It is to my fortune that what I do, is perceived with honesty and merit rather than deception and malice. I feel a mixture of emotions coursing through me on what will be made of the following months. What will be there for me, in the end of it all. I have seen and felt the fire of one life snuffed out in the cold departure of water, splashed over the flames of dreams. Yet, when the moisture left the wood upon which the old fire was set, I was able to ignite it again and once more seek into the darkness that my eyes are not yet able to see within. There is a hope for someone like me, somewhere within this odd web intersecting goals and ambitions. It will just take time for me to train myself to figure out, upon precisely which sticky, alluring and almost invisible strand of the spider's web I must step upon, to proceed to the next, careful not to disturb the spiders that nestle near it's edge.

What I felt yesterday was utter confusion, contempt, hatred. It has been mellowed and soothed. I am once more tranquil. I must not allow myself to feel that way again. What is undoubtedly clear, is that I have allowed the manner in which I harness my emotions to effect my judgement. It would behoove me to remain aloof in the affairs to become, lest I allow my face to be so easily flustered at the next sign of conflict.


I will write more on other affairs, later. I have written what comes to mind, and.. While perhaps in my death, someone will read these notes - I won't be here to listen to the critique for how disorganized they are.
« Last Edit: March 29, 2018, 06:53:14 AM by BraveSirRobin »

BraveSirRobin

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Re: The Journal and Diary of Joachim Schrötter
« Reply #3 on: April 13, 2018, 03:11:12 AM »
Quote from: Fourth Entry, 12. April 773
Fourth Entry, 12. April 773 BC.


     I must admit to myself that I have experienced a rather difficult time in these last few days wrangling my thoughts into something suitable to write on these pages. Nothing quite seems to make sense anymore, in the World. I never thought I could face such impossible circumstances and choices here, nor that I could be so blind to their outcomes. I've never before let my mind slip through so weakly into the Night. What am I? What is this place? What am I doing here? What do I even do now? - Questions I keep asking myself over and over again between bottles of cognac and thick, sweetly wrapped cigarettes. It all went so wrong, so quickly, so easily. It slipped into disrepair, disarray like a babe slips into slumber. Yet, here I am, looking back as though it was all so clear - like I am all so perceptive - but to be entirely honest with myself? If it happened all over again before me, perhaps I would let it fall through my fingers again, just like the first time.

I spent a few days trying to wrap my head around what to do with it now, whether I should do as my heart yearns so eagerly and damn everyone I serve with just to burst out, shouting it into the skies, releasing the truth from my mind and feeling the weight escape. I would return to my Suite, sit down and sip on a bottle of cognac? But I would taste something metallic. Rather than the aged, fine rum I would be tasting something... Metal. It would perplex me, it would confuse me, until I realized, I could no longer swallow. It was the metal of an assassin, through my throat, and the blood draining into my stomach, not the sweet liquor I so yearned for. Perhaps that thought alone makes me an utter coward who is afraid to do as he believes, because he wants to gain something from it. An utterly mortal, human tale. Those who feel as though their cowardice was a weakness, would call it strength - a purpose beyond such small trivialities as right and wrong, but to do as you must. Those are the words of a man who has spun so many lies around himself that he has become trapped in his own lies, forever cursed to believe them at truths, until.. He has lost his grip upon reality, so dearly, that the world is either mad to him, or he? Is mad to the world.

At the least, I am not the only person here who feels this way. I have more in common with Sieur Jerome de La Salle than I care to say, though his methods can sometimes be unsavory, he bends just when he needs to. He arrives just when he needs to. I see the man as a mentor in many ways, and the way he looks at me with pride fills me with such joy. It is so funny, how something so simple - can make you so happy. For someone to see you as a success, to believe in you - to care, for what you want to become. Between him and Juste Marceaux, I feel as though I have a family in Dementlieu that I could have never hoped to expect when I arrived with Corinne, all those months ago. We are supposed to talk before his Council meeting, exchange some final notes and prepare for some maneuvers in the coming battles. I do not feel so crazy, knowing this event burdens his heart as it does mine.


I must look forward, and stop looking back. What unsavory desires plague me will be the end of me, and I must.. I must, stop thinking of them.

 
« Last Edit: April 13, 2018, 03:57:56 AM by BraveSirRobin »

BraveSirRobin

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Re: The Journal and Diary of Joachim Schrötter
« Reply #4 on: April 13, 2018, 03:24:26 AM »
Quote from: Fifth Entry, 13. April 773
Fifth Entry, 13. April 773 BC



     I... Struggle, to force myself to write upon paper the thoughts I have so deeply burrowed into my mind. Whatever searching I have done to try to find a way to right this entire mess, I must cease. I must let it die, I must bury it. For that Jerome de La Salle has buried himself to see it sequestered. What is it of this place, of Port-a-Lucine that just makes the simplest, most obvious decisions so drastically inconceivably contrived? I cannot do it anymore. I cannot make myself - I cannot.

I must swallow this burden and bare it with me, for now I have lost a friend - I have lost a mentor - I have lost one of the few people I truly felt appreciated my true nature in this City, and he was lost to the utter insolence of his peers. He was lost due to the incompetence and denial that consumed us all - but he was lost most of all, so that the République could live on. He died - so that we could finish this fight. So no longer shall I sit questioning myself, questioning the past, thinking twice on those decisions. My true nature will show itself in the coming days, and I will not try to sequester or set it aside any longer. Whatever fate is held before me, in the hands of whatever supposed Gods we worship, it will come like FIRE and FURY, for BETTER or WORSE. I need NOT the powers I have LOST to see to it that the RÉPUBLIQUE STILL STANDS.

EZRA GUARD US, AND MAY LIBERTY GRACE US ALL!

VIVE LA RÉPUBLIQUE!

« Last Edit: April 13, 2018, 04:01:31 AM by BraveSirRobin »

BraveSirRobin

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Re: The Journal and Diary of Joachim Schrötter
« Reply #5 on: April 19, 2018, 07:01:15 AM »
Quote from: Sixth Entry, 19. April 773
Sixth Entry, 19. April 773 BC


     Preparations for the upcoming battle are going better than I had anticipated. Many Outlanders from across the core and numerous religious organizations are sending foodstuffs and medical supplies to the Theatre de la Cathedrale. Verinne van Haute has far surpassed any expectations I'd ever had of her, I'd honestly thought she might fall back to her old ways by now. Even someone as optimistic as I. National tragedy tends to form tight bonds, however, and I am beginning to believe the sense of urgency from this war has kept her mind busy and away from that old life she lead. She's successful, not just at bringing the Arts back to life in this City, but engaging the People and soothing their worries regarding the harsh, long night to come. I admire her for that quality, it's something that despite my rather kind presence, I'll never be able to do effectively, what with this gift from my former King on my head.

At the current stockpile rate, within a week we should be able to sustain those civilians for a month or so under siege. As far as I'm aware, Warden Gauthier will be seeing a large number of the locals leaving in an exodus to safety, South through Chateaunoir. I cannot say I truly blame them, this is going to be messy. I ran once, too, when I thought men in armored suits were going to kill me. I can honestly say I know the feeling. I hope those Covenant Dogs keep good on their word and see those good people through to Chateaunoir, and I don't hear word back about them being executed in a mass slaughter to show how 'gullible' we are as Republicans.

To make this entire situation more interesting, there is the daughter of a Baron who came out to the Capitol even after word of a covenant invasion got out. Laurette Trelliard. She claims to me that her allegiance is with us, and she is here because she believes in that duty. However, I can tell just from looking at her that she's never been in a fight. Never done much work in her life. I've taken it upon myself to see to it that this young girl isn't traumatized by what she is about to experience, and knows how to put a ball of lead inside of someone's chest before the war comes to our doorstep. With any luck, that will dissuade them from trying to take her as a war spoil. Ezra Bless, I do hope she learns quick.

I need to get some proper sleep. I haven't slept much at all since the Duchesse's Estate. Not even with familiar company by my side.

BraveSirRobin

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Re: The Journal and Diary of Joachim Schrötter
« Reply #6 on: April 21, 2018, 10:13:55 AM »
Quote from: Seventh Entry, 21. April 773
Seventh Entry, 21. April, 773 BC


     I feel like I should have more to write here of note, but the last few days have been utterly uneventful. With the passing of dear friends came inheritance, of an unexpected sort. Yet even to accept this inheritance I still yet had to betray my nature once more, just so that the other side would see what I did. Nothing is simple in Dementlieu, I have been given chances no other Falkovnian has had in the past. I must make use of every morsel offered to me, so that I may come out stronger tomorrow. I wonder sometimes, with this inheritance, if I am now stepping into his shoes. If the way I am thinking now, is how he thought then, and simply did not tell a soul? One thing is for certain: I must be careful from this point onward, a misstep could paint the wrong picture to everyone. This is either a boon or a curse, and it is too early to determine which.

However, other than that particular gift from a dead man, the streets have been dreadfully quiet. Every watch is accentuated by light social conversation, but very little substance has passed me since I began my tenure as a Gendarme. I almost feel like the silence of my daily logs may portray inactivity, yet I do not see the point in recording useless information about how uneventful a particular day has gone. If the current endeavors I am pursuing come to fruition, it will make up for that silence tenfold I believe.

That is all, for now.

BraveSirRobin

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Re: The Journal and Diary of Joachim Schrötter
« Reply #7 on: May 15, 2018, 03:15:03 AM »
Quote from: Eighth Entry, 14. Mai 773
Eighth Entry, 14. Mai, 773 BC


     As far as I can tell, the original timetables for when we expected enemy soldiers to breach our walls have simply been eschewed. Whether someone above me knows the true reason for this, or they're just remaining enigmatic to cover their own bewilderment is beyond my knowledge. Weeks are beginning to roll into months as the Covenant Army remains just beyond our reach, just beyond our manpower to deal with. Locked in a stone-walled cage with little else to do but wait and maintain order. I must admit that the madness begins to set into my own mind just as much as the common man's. When will we see them? When will we finally be able to put all of this behind us? I cannot say for certain if we will survive the assault, but living with this anxiety is enough to push any man to his limits. My superiors seem to have almost entirely returned to their own affairs. My Lord, Vicomte de Roissy Juste Marceaux has been travelling between his titled land and the City, Westward, where the Covenant lines have not yet closed, making his final preparations for the inevitable skirmishes towards his Estate. Sergeant Sieur Remi Rousseau is doing... Whatever it is, Remi does. Caporal Charlotte de La Chaize seems to only arrive when there's a meeting, otherwise remaining utterly absent in daily affairs. Genuinely, I have only witnessed her present three times in my tenure with the Company of the Fox and as a Gendarme. I did not even know she existed until the final days of the Company. I am a man of loyalty, but I am also beginning to feel fear and unsettling discomfort with the chaos of the situation. What defense can be lead this way?


Taking a brief leave from all of this to recollect my thoughts should do me well.

BraveSirRobin

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Re: The Journal and Diary of Joachim Schrötter
« Reply #8 on: May 18, 2018, 05:25:13 AM »
Quote from: Ninth Entry, 18. Mai 773
Ninth Entry, 18. Mai, 773 BC


I am apprehensive to put quill to parchment. The affairs I have been through in these two years have been more than I can easily stomach. I fail to see how some people can process everything, put it behind them, live a normal life- Whilst, I sit here, in a dimly lit room writing by candlelight, trying to put my thoughts in order. It is as though I have stepped into a torrent of chaos and confusion, myself just common refuse to be manhandled by it and tossed about freely. I am weak, and I must regain my strength. Though by what means is unbeknownst to me. Perhaps this is why so many people turn to believing in that of which they cannot see, putting their own destiny, their own ambitions, behind that of a doctrine written by men worshiping the unknown they attempt to make known? That their blind faith will make itself manifest in some epiphany that will change the course of their lives forever, answering their troubles for them? Or are they inadvertently solving them in the pursuit, disciplining themselves in the name of something Greater, and giving that entity the credit due, where the answer came wholly from within themselves?

I believe in the power that Mankind can manifest to answer, or struggle to answer almost any question they present themselves, whether their minds actively realize it or not. To discover the truth by means methodical and logical, to write it upon parchment so that others generations later may truly comprehend and build off of this acquired knowledge. What if, in this moment, simply by resisting the notion, I have equally painted myself with blind faith, just for one side of the coin rather than the other? To believe that there is no greater purpose, and that our feats in life can only serve to further our descendants and allow them to reach further heights?

What if my closed mind has lead me to the state of confusion? Perhaps, it is not meant to be within my judgement to make sense of the chaos, the discord, the disorder. Perhaps man was never meant to fully comprehend the world around them, or the reasons it happens. The Church of Ezra claims this gap of understanding and knowledge to be a part of the, "Grand Scheme." - A cheap excuse to absolve yourself of responsibility, to learn, to progress. If we all threw our hands into the air and said, "God did this to me, it is part of Her plan," then are we not just allowing ourselves a cheap excuse to blame something else? Or by questioning their logic, am I simply making a fool of myself and feeding a more sequestered urge? Perhaps it is time I listened, rather than speak, for once. Silence the voices within my head and consider an alternative point of view. Perhaps that would be bring me some peace and understanding.


Thus I shall hear.

BraveSirRobin

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Re: The Journal and Diary of Joachim Schrötter
« Reply #9 on: June 21, 2018, 05:29:46 AM »
Quote from: Tenth Entry, 21. Juni 773
Tenth Entry, 21. Juni, 773 BC



The apex of the war is finally coming to the City's Walls. Estimations are within days the combat will start and there will be no going back. I have done everything in my power to make amends with my past and to find the man I lost so many months ago. In these final hours, I have returned to myself, I have found my conscience and my heart. I have regained the very essence of my existence, that left me in a great exodus on that very, dreadful day. Now I have a responsibility to the City itself, to the People within it, to this République, for better or worse. I have a responsibility to my future family, my Fiancé to whom I am most beholden. I have everything I could have ever wanted, right here, right now in my grasp. The brand I was betrayed with, forced upon me at birth, finally, some resemblance of transparency is given to it. That others can see my purpose beyond the word, 'Falkovnian.'

If there is a God up there that smiles upon me, even though I rarely acknowledge it, or their existence at all - See me through this battle, so that I may have my Wife, so that I may sire my children in years to come. So that I may build the home I always wanted, in the countryside, with a stable of horses. Where the rolling hills and the quiet of the countryside can make for a reprieve from the life of this City, to remind me of my original home in Falkovnia that will by all means, remain forever forsaken to me. So that I may teach my Wife to ride a horse properly, so that we may share in the bounties of our labor, and enjoy the rest of our lives together. If there is a divine entity that gives me a moment's blessing, a brief light to shine upon me, if whatever forces, essence, powers, that I possess should truly come from something other than myself- I beseech you. Do not take me from her, nor her from I. That future together, it is what I desire at heart, why I work so hard in this City, why I have gained what rapport I can, why I seek Citizenship. So that I may start a new life here. So that my children never have to see the terrors I did in Falkovnia. Nor the terrors of the night of Barovia, nor the horrendous slavers of Hazlan! ... But the Serene République de Dementlieu, where they may be happy and free.


I pray and hope.

« Last Edit: June 21, 2018, 05:35:34 AM by BraveSirRobin »

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Re: The Journal and Diary of Joachim Schrötter
« Reply #10 on: June 29, 2018, 06:52:24 AM »
Quote from: Eleventh Entry, 29. Juni, 773
Eleventh Entry, 29. Juni, 773 BC



I have never before in my life felt so disappointed and powerless. Stripped naked, left to the rats and barely fed. Humilated, lied to, and disgraced. One might never admit to making perfect decisions, but one would hope mutual empathy to exist somewhere in the world. I cannot tell where this went so wrong; I am certain someone must have betrayed me. I do not know who, I do not know how. I am no monster, nor shall I ever be. We are but Human, capable of mistakes, yet - Yet it is believed, so precisely, what escapes her lips. Even that of which is not true, that of which is exaggerated beyond belief. I spoke naught but the truth of my heart, yet it was drowned out by the roaring crowds wanting their own interpretation of Justice. I look back, and I wonder: Why didn't I run? Why did I go there in the first place? For my own salvation, my conscience? Perhaps partially. Even the most wicked of men must have a conscience. To ease this person's pains? .. I truly believed this person to be ruined. My heart bled for them - yet what I see, what I saw, it was not.. Ruin, it was the most vile hatred and ignorance. I've never in my life before begged for my life, yet I did.

In the final moments, I could only think of my home, my fiancée. I could only think of everything that still needed to be done; Yet I progressed on the agenda, the advice of another woman who I never thought would try to send me into such danger. I listened to people, where I have listened before, where I have been betrayed, before. I trust too easily; I shall trust no-one but my beloved. I must stop seeing the best in people, until they show their worst. I must assume the worst of all. I must guard myself, for now I shall never know peace.

When I awoke, I was home again, from a dear friend that I do not believe I shall ever be able to truly repay. My brothers and sisters in arms, the true ones. Not self-serving cretins who float bodies so that they, themselves, may cross a river dry. But true Nobles, if not by title, by Heart.


My Joséphine, with what power I can muster, I shan't again trust like I have been doing so, so blindly. For that they would see us apart, and I could not imagine leaving you alone without me. I could not imagine being alone without you.

« Last Edit: June 29, 2018, 07:04:12 AM by BraveSirRobin »