The life of Albrecht Derwaucher, A biography

[Budly]

I am Albrecht Derwaucher, I am writting down these notes from my journals, personal memories and that of close friends. About my life and how I came to end in the land of Barovia

I was born in a village in my home realm of no importance since of I am not present in that realm anymore and I am in Barovia or its neighbouring nations as I write this. My mother, was a clever woman, a helper of the sick, diseased and wounded. Bandage and so on. If she had healing powers like those I seen in my time here I do not remember or have pressed out of my memory. My father was a soldier, a warrior at the frontline of my old nation that I once was a inhabitant of.

I myself growed up to be a man of war, a mercenary. I would walk the fields of battle and see many things. I was a man that would run up a war scenery from one side to meet a commendant of some sort on the other offering me double the pay, I would of course then turn on my last contractor and attack my old comrades. I would run against a enemy line with only my fist if the pay was good enough.

The battlefield was the home. My old home, that of my father and mother was in the middle of two forces struggling for control and it was no more. I could not care more. I could not feel pity or sorrow. I did fight in that war as well as I growed up to be a young man. My father was impaled by the pikes of pikemen and my mother put herself on fire to escape to be the spoils of war. Well, least this put me in a situation where I would see much of the world and drink diffrent ale in diffrent towns with diffrent culture and architecture with diffrent exotic women.

There is not much to tell of the time I spent on the battlefields till I was about twenty nine or thirty years old. As we moved on to the next war in a hollow land, hollowed by the war emerging and sucking the life out of the land. There was hundreds if not thousands dead around us on that country road. Even in the forest, creature of diffrent species layed slayed. The mist layed thick like smoke from burning houses.

We entered the forest that early morning, light rain. I carried a comrade on a piece of wood as I stumbled on a stone and fell. I dropped him and he fell down with me down the side of the sloping hill the road went up on, he dropped his so loved hour glass on a chain, he screamed for me to bring it back to him so I stood up and walked away to it shouting for the others to wait, as I took it up the sound of growl was heard and a wolf pack and layed notice to us and had us surrounded. I knew that I had not a single chance in the world to survive, my halberd was on a wagon and my small sword would not be enough, as the wolfs circled around us the mist thickened more and more. When they went in to attack us the mist swirled and got so thick we could not see.

I stood on my knees covering my head, almost falling over as I did all to cover the upcoming attack as silent struck and I opened my eyes. I opened my eye's and heard music all of a sudden, that is when I saw the camp of that people back then. I thought I had been knocked unconscious and something had scared the wolfs off, I glanced down and saw my friend laying on the ground, the stare of death was in his eye's. Now he would be nothing but vulture food.

As of then, I would never return to my own realm.


//If the mist only takes one at a time I would like to know or if there is other wrongs or questions you people want to ask I gladly answer!

[Budly]

I could do nothing about my friend, he was a Falkovnian aswell perhaps but he was dead to me. I grabbed his hourglass and dragged him into some bushes giving him a blessing. Something was not right all, I stood there clearly not in the same place as the mist thickened. There was a shrine a bit away from the camp, I glanced at it. Sadly I could not remember fully what the symbol on the shrine. Whom it belonged to.

I glanced towards the camp and if I was not wrong, it was the damn Vistani.I quickly walked through their camp, giving them a nod now and then. I did want nothing to do with this odd people. I wanted to yell at and see if I get any answer but then people perhaps would have heard me. I stepped deeper into what I thought was a forrest but behind it a temple and a inn layed. It seemed calm...not many was at this place.

I saw the gates to a town, Was this a Darkonese city? The rain poured down and I walked up to a woman in black asking where I was....Barovia was her answer. She joked about sunshine and opportunity, clearly the land did not show that to me at first glance. I did not know what to do now. Another man stepped up and spoke. This was my first day in Barovia...my first meeting with any being.

Shortly after a woman looking like a Mordent noblewoman came up, and spoke about her dress. I presume I was lucky to be speaking a language these people knew. She did fill out the dress very gut!  

I offered .my service to a Garda as I walked around this outskirt of the town I would know as Vallaki later on. But alas no outlanders was welcomed in the Garda. The non human was not slaves in Barovia like in Falkovnia and they made a mess, specially a retarded halfling called boots running around juggling with swords.

This land was a mad land, I remember that I said to myself as I was to lay down to rest....in the hall of the Lady's rest that day  

[Budly]

The coming days was all rather blurry, day out and in was the same as I tried to understand how I got so far away from my own land and where I was. I remember the short days and long nights. The screams and shout of the night in Barovia was horrific. I would never stay out for long as soon as the sun started to fall, retreating from the counter attack of the moon.

One day I although remember the accusation of a man, proclaiming he was of elf and human blood. Born in Falkovnia I believe speaking of how we rape elf's then send them to the pits where we would breed out their elven blood. He delivered his anger towards me, like butchering the peasants for something the nobles done in another nation. I clearly have nothing to do with these pits or the enslaving of other species but so is the way of my people and the king. There is nothing I can do to change it if I tried and I clearly wont try since I am loyal to my king even if I am still Barovia.

Seemingly the woman that stood near by seemed not distressed by the mans news and continued their idle chatter. I myself tried to speak the man away with sarcasm. Seemingly much talk and little action from that one. I believe at that time some of the infamous Barovian so called garda or for a more common tongue, guards where near by. Else I might have tested my warhammer on his head.

Although this event I did manage to escape trouble. I would continue to stay in Barovia since I knew there was other Falkovnians. I thought perhaps they had an idea of what I should do next. After all, I was a mercenary and went where coin and war was over abundant. Barovia seemed free of war aside some rebel movements and perhaps bandits or outsider formations. If they payed, I would clearly help either side.