Avgust 29
It has been to long since I have captured my thoughts in this journal. Much has changed in my life since my last entry. I am no longer entangled in any romantic pursuits and it is for the better. They were a dangerous distraction, caused no end of heartache and frankly between improving my own skills in Herbing and Alchemy alongside the pursuit of night creatures any significant other would be only second.
It is not my intent to record my investigations here, I'll leave that for my logbook at the Kinship, but perhaps more how these investigations have impacted me..
Of most recent concern is the Wight Lucian.. I am hopeful that the poor creature is cursed, but my own knowledge of Wight's and confirmation from Ophelia would tell me otherwise. I never recounted them before but since the start of this investigation, the nightmares which plagued me early on of Ser Jeroth have returned. They seemed to start shortly after visiting the Rauni in Vallaki.
A long dark stone hallway.. decayed hands reaching out from broken portions of the masonry. I see Jeroth ahead of me, running through them, urging me to follow, but I cannot, either because of fear or the claws holding me back, I am trapped and unable to aid my mentor...
There is a sense of urgency to them this time. I don't know if I am running to my death or from it, and while I trust in Kelemvor I worry that a fear of death may have crept into my mind. The Core, always the core, the same yet different.
Octyavr 5[/size]
I have been tested, and found wanting. Though the will is there, the body is not yet prepared to battle the creatures of the Noapte.Lucian[scratched out] The Wight, felled me at the gates of Krezek, and my death allowed him and his army of Darklings to wreak havoc on the people of the outpost.
For a moment, it seemed his salvation might be at hand, that he would forgive himself, and allow Liss to offer him the peace he deserved, but what I think to be a Vistani spirit stole the heirloom of his mother, his rage was inconsolable, the dark power that emanated from the Ritual spot was staggering... when he wandered in, I knew Lucian was no more.
The Thrice Cursed Wight, has made his choice to further the designs of his wretched mother and eradicate the Vistani that cast her out.
He must be stopped.
The vision the Rauni showed me... His eyes glowing red, as he murdered man, woman and child without mercy or care, this CANNOT come to pass.
I must try and gather who I can and hunt down this abomination until he is put back into the earth.
These are blighted times but Kelemvors will be done.
I was asked tonight about what happened when I was misted here. This was a story I had told once, long ago, and had filed away in my mind as a distant memory.
Ser Jeroth my Knight, I cannot nor will not forget you, as you drive my actions daily, but the memory has become distant. Therefore I shall commit it to paper that there be a record of his sacrifice.
The ceremony of induction seemed to go by so quick. I had served as a squire to Ser Jeroth for several years after the gifts of Kelemvor began to Manifest. My uncle would come to visit me occasionally, but much of my time was spent in martial training, and learning the strategies involved in fighting the dead.
The night I was misted, my first mission had been granted to me. Rumors' of abductions in the noble quarter. A recently unearthed crypt (happened more often then one would think in a city as old as Baldur's Gate) Ser Jeroth and myself were sent to investigate. We thought it might be a Wight, or perhaps a Ghoul on the loose. I wish I could say that had been the case.
We approached at night, and perhaps that was our folly, but perhaps it had made no difference either in the outcome. The walls of the crypt were old and cracked. skeletons and the remains of the ancient dead in small plots on the wall. As we traveled down deeper we saw glyphs of whatever peoples had built the place.
An hour down, and nothing much of interest had happened. That was until we came into the main room. A huge antechamber, it appeared to be some manner of ritual room. The smell was awful, but it only after we relit our torches did we see where it had come from.. Bodies, pieces of bodies, arms, legs, torsos... cut to pieces and thrown about with nearly no regard lay everywhere. Cages filled with bloated rotting corpses.. we didn't think there was a person alive, until we heard the crying. A cage filled with several small children. Of course we released them as quickly as we could. We prepared to head back topside, but whatever fiend had created this place, had clearly been prepared for an incursion.
Before we knew it, we were surrounded by the dead. Ser Jeroth raged against them, we both did.. but to no avail. Zombies Skeletons assailed from every direction.
Before I knew it, he had called for a withdrawal, I grabbed the children and we moved deeper into the tunnels, the sound of the hungering dead close at our heels. I remember the sense of dread I felt as the way became narrower and narrower, eventually we were forced to move one at a time. Ahead of us, appeared what looked to be the entrance to a mausoleum. I remember pushing against the door with him, and that sudden sense of relief as it budged, but it had take to long to open The creature were piling into the narrow space.. this was when Jeroth pushed me into the door with the children.
"Go, warn others" were his last words to me as he shut the stone door behind me, I could hear him draw his sword, and the sound of combat... I had no choice but to run, and I did.. I remember trying to hold on to the hands of one of the smallest children, but the mist.. it grew thick.. so thiick I could no longer see what was in front of me..
I remember waking up in Barovia near the Vistani, no children, no Ser Jeroth.
I do not wish to recollect on this further.
(https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/023/838/714/large/jon-pintar-barovia-jonpintar.jpg?1580490437)
Dekavr 13 776
On Lucian:
The Wight's suffering has at long last come to an end. He is now, no more then a pile of ashes and memories. To some those memories are bittersweet, such as Liss. To others, filled with pain, such as Estel. Nevertheless it is over.
His ending came, where the journey that brought him into shadow began - The Vistani camp in the mists. The vow I took to guard Vadoma, fulfilled, and I will forever own the fact that I sent her away and replaced her with a double to ensure her safety. Lucian, I pity more then most of the night creatures, but I found myself empathizing with him and his plight over the people who he caused a great deal of harm to. Would I do it again? Yes.
Lucian had his chance for redemption with Liss, and refused it. Now it was a matter of his ending. I was gladdened that in the end, he did in fact go peaceably and that he chose a true death over more bloodshed. I am equally thankful for my allies, Adan, Ramon, J'ystn .. each of them came to my side when I called. Estel.. I would have preferred she had not been present, but... I also think she needed this.
More then anything, I find myself contemplating on the creature that was the man Lucian. He sacrificed himself for others, and his reward? Undeath claimed him, and stole his heart.
I am beginning to understand the true nature of the Core, this is a dread realm, where hope lies dead in a ditch somewhere along the road from Vallaki to the Barovian Village. It has been so long since I felt the presence of the Judge, I have forgotten the surety that it would give me. I move now on blind faith, and the knowledge his gifts still course through me.
But I grow weary.Roads go ever ever on,- AS
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.
Roads go ever ever on
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known
Coward. Coward? The nerve of this half blood Vistani to so thoughtlessly and callously utter that word. Where was she when Lucian passed through the gates of Krezek outpost and only I stood to try and stop him? Where was she when he assaulted Estel, and left her corpse in a flop house in Vallaki?[/size]
I took an oath by Vadoma to protect her, and when the option to hide her came up, I took it. Lucian had made his desire known to me, and whatever closure he wanted with her, his time for it had passed. I had gathered more then enough allies to end him, and even then, he was still allowed to say his peace.
Well, we spoke. This girl Zaya and myself and her mind wont be swayed, but frankly neither will mine. It was she that Lucian bequeathed his swords to, and while I should most likely distrust her, I do not have it in me to deal with anymore of his fallout. A note to myself - she seems to suffer from some affliciton, but I am not certain what.
There is word now of greater threats, vampires, Soth, a crown.. the dread realm allows for now respite from the terror it creates.
I am hesitant to pick up this quill and again set my thoughts to paper. Having recently escaped Darkon, I find my mind to be addled and my memories returning in jumps and starts. I remember leaving though. I remember making the choice to leave. I told no-one, just picked up my sword and left. It has been nearly a year since I stepped foot in Barovia, and it might have been longer had I not joined a trade caravan as a guard. The rumors' are true, and those who go to Darkon quickly forget who they are, or who they were. Of course, that is what I was looking for.
Most of the folk I knew are gone, or at least I haven't seen them, and I suppose that is for the better. I will have to return my Kinship key as well, I have no desire to belong to any groups any longer. I find myself no better off then a year ago. I question my faith, I question myself, I question my choices. Lucian deserved better. He deserved closure, and instead he got death, and yes that death was merciful for what he was, but as a man his life was marked by pain, and it was that pain that brought him back, but he deserved closure.
For now, I am content to just be a nameless face amongst the masses that seem to gather outside the temple of light. I saw Ophelia the other day, perhaps she didn't recognize me, or didn't care, but all the better. Solitude is an ally these days.
Ljot stands upon the stage and sings the sing about her people coming down the mountain to raid, but needing to barter with a giant first. A beautiful young skald, I cannot deny that she is passing pleasing to the eye, but more so her song soothes a weary soul. "Coming down the mountain" she sings. I am, I believe coming down the mountain myself at last. A year lost. The rumors' of Darkons magic were true, you do forget yourself.
I had been living as a caravan guard, thinking myself a citizen of that country for nearly a year. All memories of Aeric Sunward gone. I had a new name, a new life, and time permitting gods know what else. I desperately wanted to escape myself, escape my faith, escape my allies and Darkons magic fit the bill. Only when I returned all these memories came crashing back at once. What I hoped to obscure rained down on my psyche. I have been wrestling with these suppressed thoughts over a week now, and while seeing old friends like Melian (Who has truly come into her own) have certainly helped. I cannot help but feel that all we do is pointless. The constant hunt of the creatures of the Noapte, it will never end here, we will never make a difference.
Kelemvor continues to grace me with his gifts, but I question my worthiness to wield them.
The days have been quiet, mostly. Oh but the nights; Rumor's abound of Vrolock, Cults, Black Counts and other such terrors of the Old Night. I remain vigilant, have been begun asking about regarding this angel of salvation, but as of yet I still feel unsteady. The other night Asariel was kind enough to take me on a hunt, exterminating Wererats in the village. Fruitful, but it still hasn't cured me of this lingering apathy.
That said, I was overjoyed to discover Isabel was still lingering about Vallaki! She was a friend from my earliest days here, before I was even in the kinship! Apparently she is also an acquaintance of Ljots (Whom gave us another impromptu performance at the Ladies Rest). It was good to see her and wax nostalgic about the old days. Of course, brooding donkey that I am, I begin remembering the faces I know I won't see again. Folks with whom I had a brief friendship but were lost the mists for any number of reasons. It's odd that I still remember the Half Orc, taken in the sewers by... something, from the second day I arrived in Vallaki.
Work beckons once again. I find myself again investigating the various disturbances and goings on in the core. An Angel seeking acolytes. This could be good, this could be something else. I have met with them, and they seem earnest. I certainly hope they are.
I'll admit a certain level of frustration wandering about Vallaki again that I haven't felt since I was newly misted. Rude folk so absorbed in their petty nonsense they can make no time for anyone else. Imagine being rebuked for saying "Hello" by other outlanders no less! Well, I was made of sterner stuff once, I can be so again. Luckily there are kind people open to making friends; my allies in the Kinship, old faces I have not seen in a while, Ljot, of course, is disarmingly good natured.
Speaking of Ljot; We went for a walk the other day to a meadow I like to spend time in meditating or just thinking. I thought she may enjoy the peace and quiet it brings. She shared a bit of history about herself, and apparently something that may have created a bit of a gulf between us. Her past as a raider. I had some inkling of this from when we first met, but to be fair, I may have turned a blind eye to it, as she truly is someone with a good heart. But she shared her concerns over what she has heard of other Paladins, which is fair. Some Holy Knights especially those of Helm, Tyr, Torm are prepared to smite any and every perceived foe in their line of sight.
This is not my role however. I am a servant of the Judge, and while he expects I conduct myself properly, abide just laws, defend the week. Above all is the quest to lessen the fear of death to the living, and to eradicate the blight of undeath that plagues this world or any world. Of course, this doesn't mean I would look away if Ljot were to suddenly decide to burn Vallaki down to the group. So I told her the same thing I told Juline. If you wish to travel with me, I expect your actions to be tempered by kindness and justice. But regardless of that, I will not judge a woman who clearly wants to change her future, and set aside a more violent past.
Many Paladins are known to take on quests .. sometimes for magical weapons, to slay an enemy, sometimes it is a quest of the self. Ljot is on her own journey. Who she wants to be. I would rather be a guide then a hindrance on her path.
I have found myself at the mist camp now. I am not normally comfortable here, but getting away from Vallaki now and again is refreshing.
Here I sit, in the keep of the dyad a warm fire burning in front of me, an ale by my side, and yet I feel no contentment. Darkon's curse still embraces me, though I am able to put a good on in front of others. I lived a whole other life, or thereabouts. Aye, I have told old friends I thought myself a Caravan guard, but that was not the whole story.Aeric
I was in Neblus. Lost, alone, my mind was resistant to whatever was happening to me. It was then that the brothers saw me. One recognized the Skeletal Hand and Scales of Kelemvor and he beckoned me to him. The Eternal Order. They were making a pilgrimage to the a place called the Necropolis, once the city Il Iluk. While they would not dare enter the city, they would go close to its borders to offer prayer and sacrifice that the dead may rest again. Foolish or not, prayers to the dead felt more at home to me then anything else, so I joined them. The road was long, and beset by all manner of creatures, but as we neared, the number of undead we had to fight off became ungainly.
I had never seen such a place. A city of the dead, and while we lingered only on its borders did I truly understand the Orders belief that they must be placated in order to stop them. The people in this land have begun to abandon the Order as well. Since the Requiem, their faith in the order has waned and terror that the dead will once again reclaim their home has intensified.
I left that place shattered. Had my faith in Kelemvor been wrong all this time? We cannot stop the eventual return of the world to the dead, after all, "all that lives will one day die" can we only delay it for a time. I was steeped in these thoughts for some time. The curse taking hold brought me more and more often to the Orders temples. They offered a solace, but not a solution. Had I been a member of the order, would Lucian have received his true reward. I asked myself this daily. I spoke with one of the brothers on it, and he seemed convinced the Lucian was done a disserve by not allowing him to speak with the Rauni.
The fear of the Hour of the Ascension seems to permeate most of the faithful here, and while the order serves a purpose I wonder if these men and women are the right ones to fulfil it. On more then one occasion I saw them take coin or favors for blessings. One particularly vile older cleric apparently bedded multiple young women in city, and was eventually cast out for his transgression, although the Order did in fact seek to obfuscate it as much as possible. Besides this, it feels as if this organization has fractured. The Requiem has done a number on their faithful and each church seems to operate isolated from the others. I went to them looking for answers.. and instead I found mists as thick as though in Barovia.
Until I met Gaspar the Ezrite... this tale for another day though.
It has been an interesting few days. Between attacks by Necromancers, Angelic cults and other happenings, I have actually managed to find time to meet with an Ezrite Toret.
Matthew.
We spent a good deal of time discussing the faith, I shared with him some of my doubts in my own. He was a kind man, and shared with me the guidance that Ezra offers. But reminded me, it was for me to come to her, if I was to be saved. I am still not certain about anything, but I will never blaspheme the Wardens, they are good men and women who are true to their faith and their goddess.
Ophelia.
She spent the night with me outside the temple, in the rain no less. Listening to me speak of Lucian, my doubts and a hundred other things. There is something about that woman that makes it so hard to disagree with her logic no matter how hard I tried. My spirits were certainly uplifted after our conversation and I am meeting with her to discuss some of her beliefs about the core. She is a beautiful and kind woman and I am happy to know her.
Ramon.
At long last. I expected disappointment but instead he was happy to see me. He brought me to the temple, told me we could discuss my role in the church anon. Ramon is/was my mentor and I owe that man a lot. That he welcomes me back with open arms is a relief I did not expect.
Well, this is what I have time for tonight. I am going to have dinner with Ellavyra, a fellow in the kinship, I hope I don't make a fool of myself, she carries herself with a noble posture and my own upbringing stands out sometimes.
Aeric Sunward Fivral 4 777[/b][/i]
I am impulsive.[/i][/size]
She is beautiful, intelligent, self reliant, adventurous, traits that are all to appealing to me, to anyone really. I literally blurted out my feelings without even thinking, asking that I be allowed to her court her and see what comes of it. She said yes. The work of Kelemvor can make one quickly forget the joys of living and life, but this has reawakened those feelings. To some degree, even helped me with the doubts I have had of late. Nevertheless...
I am impulsive.
On a side note, while an aborted attempt at the Winter Palace seems to be the norm for my ventures there, I had the pleasure of venturing with some capable comrades. A few from the Kinship (Ella, and Lee) and some new allies. Eskel, Whicket, and of course Amarissa. A fine journey regardless of outcome.
Aeric Sunward, Fivral 8 777
Give me Wight, Lich, Lycanthrope, even a Vampire to deal with and I can keep my composure as well as a chosen of Helm.[/i]
One red headed Suneite and I'm spouting poetry like a schoolboy's who discovered his first crush.
I am beginning to annoy myself. Meanwhile, she is a figure of absolute grace and composure. Calm, collected thoughtful and kind.
I wish to gift her something worthy of her abilities and skills, but I do not know what; meanwhile she has blessed me with holy relics befitting a Knight of Kelemvor. I could care less about the gifts though, and would trade them for just another hour of her time.. and, there I go again.
On a side note: I think I am done with excursions to the Winter Palace. The fates seem decided I should not go. So unless a friend or allies asks it of me, it will be the Mist Camp for me with Amarissa.
Besides my own lovestruck nonsense, there are some true threats to be concerned with. A Lich seems to have caused trouble between some allies in the kinship; Roland and Liarial. Certainly we need to learn more about this creature, but no infernal creature of the note should come between good people.
I was reminded of a verse I heard a bard present when I was young back in the Gate. Being around her has brought it back to the forefront of my memory and I would commit it to these pages that I do not forget it again.
"But if each day, each hour you feel
that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness
if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me
ah my love, ah my own
in me all that fire is repeated
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten
my love feeds on your love, beloved and as long as you live
it will be in your arms
without leaving mine."
Aeric Sunward, Fivral 9 777
Amarissa was mess tonight.
She was tired, stunk of the ocean, and literally passed out the moment she came in through the door. I tidied up after her, and in the morning, I’ll draw her a hot bath. I hate to admit I have been a bit derelict in my duties of late. Putting the sword down for a brief respite has been cathartic, but perhaps a bit too much. Rissa still spends her time travelling the core for her business for the expereince, and I’ll admit the urge to adventure pecks at my soul, but I have needed this. I have never slept better; I have never felt better. This feels like a real life, and being with her makes me think of what I could have had had Kelemvor not chosen me. That said, a Necrobane has his duties, and Port certainly has its problem with the dead, and the living.
Still. I feel a bit guilty, like I am abandoning her. She has become the most important thing In my life, if something happened to her, I don’t know what I would do. (There are several ink blots on the page as if the writer stopped and allowed the quill to drip on the parchment)
She is beautiful when she sleeps, even if she is a mess. I need to take up sketching again.
779 Yinvar 8,
My sabbatical has been helpful. Tending to the local cemeteries in Port has offered peace and insight, while certainly not officially an employee they seem to leave me alone if I do no harm. I have kept my sword oiled and sharpened, my armor clean and prepared, and yet it has been hard for me to wear them. Life has been sedentary but with Amarissa this is a fine life. She enjoys her journeys and always returns home to me.
Of late though a familiar itch has returned, I spent the previous two nights wandering the docks, engaging with cutthroats and other ne'er do wells that frequent the city streets. Thus, I have ventured out recently with Amarissa into the dangerous night that is the Core, and I am enlivened again!
I have long come to terms that Kelemvor cannot see me here in this shadowy land, but I do believe his will still influences my abilities and while my duties of late have been in his name, my true calling has always been that of a foe of undead and other banes this land has to offer.
Now, my traveling pack is ready, my sword again stained with the blood of enemies, and my armor; Amarissa’s Embrace I have named this most amazing adamant plate, will protect me as I wander again with my love at my side.