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Author Topic: The Secret Journal of Dragomir Korzha  (Read 1165 times)

Philhelm

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The Secret Journal of Dragomir Korzha
« on: September 10, 2009, 05:39:42 PM »
Month 11, Day 20

If you are reading this, then I am likely dead, and my secret discovered.  Although writing my thoughts on paper is nu my way, and dangerous, I have felt the need to do so at this point, due to certain changes in my life at present.  Perhaps it is for the sake posterity, or perhaps so that at least unu person, perhaps yourself, will come to understand my motives.  Truly, it pains me to think that unu day my own countrymen will think ill of me, despite my unwaivering conviction and loyalty to Barovia.

I suppose I should explain who I once was, before I begin to write of what I am becoming.  I had come to Vallaki from the Village of Barovia, to join the Vallaki Garda as my father had done.  I was proud to serve the Count, and be part of something great, as well as perform duties that others wouldn't, or couldn't, perfom in the defense of my fellow Barovians.  That endeavor was nu entirely successful.  I had never been so exposed to the outlanders, and I saw them quickly for what they were; a vile plague which threatened to destroy our culture, as well as our livlihood.  I have seen the outlanders live in luxury, as my people live in squalor.  I have seen the outlanders insult Barovia and its people with nu consequence.  I have seen them prey upon our women, and our women fall into the arms of outlander scum of their own will.  I have seen them corrupt our lands with vile witchcraft.  I have seen them stir up the creatures of the night, which inevitably prey upon my countrymen.  I have seen them lie, cheat, murder, and steal, seemingly without consequence.  Despite the grievous nature of all these things, perhaps it pales in comparison to the unu thing that seems to pain me most; I have seen nu solidarity amongst my people.  If Barovians do not stand as unu, the outlanders will eventually corrupt our lands and our way of life.

Having witnessed the dire state of affairs within Vallaki, I had set out to do more than required of me.  Not only did I intend to uphold our laws, but I wished to uphold our traditions as well, and see that the outlander presence was at least reigned in.  I had pursued this endeavor with conviction, but I was only unu man, and had often been forced to patrol the Western Outskirts of Vallaki alone, as manpower seems to be a problem within the Garda.  While nu entirely successful, and perhaps even a complete failure, I had vowed to do more than just hood checks or chasing off a bold caliban.  As I have written, I was only unu man, outnumbered and overpowered by the vile witchcraft of the outlanders.  I had been forced to increasingly deal with outlanders, and unfortunately, to depend upon them in the execution of my goals.  Unu of my goals was to make examples of some of the greatest offenders, as the lack of consequences they had received had only served to embolden the others.  The outlanders, in their arrogance, rarely seemed to wish to swallow their undeseved pride and comply with our laws.  Indeed, a routine hood check could easily turn into violence, and this is what I had to endure every day in my duties to Barovia.  Despite the weight that seemed to rest upon my shoulders, I carried on.

I had continued as such, implementing smaller goals and pursuing specific offenders, until I had been dismissed from the Garda.  Myself and another Garda had "taxed" an outlander merchant stall.  We had felt that the outlanders should at least give back to the coffers of Vallaki, considering that they made their wealth upon the broken backs of Barovian citizens.  However, this incident seemed to be my undoing, at the time.  It seems that a particular Ezrite cultist, who had once before claimed that I was corrupt and had been collecting fines for my own gain, had managed to gain an audience with the Burgomaster.  It is important to note, that I had recorded every fang ever collected, and had only used as much as was allowed for the maintenance of equipment and bounties.  Indeed, I had turned in a sum of over 17,000 fangs to the Corporal who had overseen my dismissal.  In any case, the Burgomaster, for some reason decided to side against myself and the other Garda.  We had been dismissed, and told by the Corporal that we had narrowly evaded execution.

While I was certainly disheartened over my dismissal, there were some things that bothered me more.  With that event, it seemed as though the outlanders enjoyed the same rights as our people, nu...more!  The dirty outlander vagrants nu even pay the taxes that our own people pay, so my actions within the Garda could nu be against the Count.  Perhaps more worrisome, and it is dangerous for me to even write such, is that the Dilisniya Poisoners had the ear of the Burgomaster himself.  To think that Ezrite cultists would have more weight in Vallaki than the Garda is an affront to Barovia.  I do nu trust the Ezrite cultists, and I believe that they should be dealt with, from the shadows if need be.

It was at this moment, however, that my life had changed, which is what prompted me to write this journal.  With hardly any fangs to my name, and disgraced by my dismissal from the Garda, I had desperately accepted the offer of service to a fey elf witch by the name of Nara'ia Goldflame.  I had to endure much public shame due to this, but it is important to note that she had at least aided the Garda many times in the past, and was even under its protection.  Perhaps I used the reason that she was a sanctioned witch of sorts, to excuse the fact that I was in the employ of an outlander, fey, and witch, all trei of which can nu be denied.  Da, it was an embarassment to me, but at the same time, this chance event has irrecoverably changed my life.

During my time as a merchant under her, I had done many things which my people would nu understand.  I have walked shoulder to shoulder with the very outlanders that I'd see gone from Barovia.  Indeed, in some ways, I had acted as outlanders do, after a fashion, despite the fact that the conviction of my past goals still dwell within my heart.  However, my current situation is more grievous still.  During my employment under Nara'ia, it seems that she is more than unu who pays me fangs so that I may eat and clothe myself.  Perhaps it is damning to admit, but she has become my friend, and unu of the only people I know who I can trust fully.  While I despise witchcraft, it seemed that she only used if for bun purpose, and I did nu fear her when she used it, after she had aided me many times.  Nu, I should nu bother trying to keep secrets in my writings, or its integrity will be lost.  Besides, if you are reading this, I am likely already in the grave.  I had written that Nara'ia is my friend, but in truth I find myself glancing at her longer, or more often, than necessary in our interactions.  It worries me that there seems to have been some who have noticed such, but I hope she has nu noticed, or it might change the most damning thing about myself; I have now become an apprentice to her, to learn the very witchcraft that I despise.  I loathe myself at times for all of the things that I have admitted, but I feel the only way to match the outlanders at this point, is to harness the same methods that they are willing to use.  Again, it pains me to admit these things, but it is the truth; however, my loyalty to the Count, Barovia, and to my countrymen is unwaivering.  If I must walk as an outlander in order to perform my duties, then I shall pay that price.  It is a dangerous endeavor, as I have been invited to serve in the Garda once again.  Could I really perform my duties as a Garda during the day, as well as studying witchcraft under Nara'ia at night, all while thinking forbidden thoughts of her?  How long could I keep such a game up, until it all falls apart?

For the Count and Barovia!

-Dragomir Korzha
« Last Edit: September 10, 2009, 05:42:48 PM by Philhelm »
What is the halberd made of?  Steel! Steel! Cold, hard steel!
What is the spirit of the halberd?  Killing! Killing! Killing without mercy!
What makes the green grass grow?  Blood! Blood! Bright, red blood!

Philhelm

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Re: The Secret Journal of Dragomir Korzha
« Reply #1 on: November 08, 2009, 01:50:02 PM »
Much has happened since my last journal entry, and I regret that I had nu kept up with it.  However, the things that I had been involved in had been mult dire, and I have been kept busy until fairly recently.  It seems that my game did nu quite unravel, but the rules of it have changed drastically.  I have learned and done things that I would never have imagined during those days, which seem so long ago now, in which I had been new to Vallaki.  How I wish to return to those innocent days, but I know in my heart that those days are gone forever, and I must bear the burden of living a life riddled with secrets.  Perhaps this journal gives me some small measure of relief, as I know more things than any Barovian should have to know, or bear alone.

I had mentioned that I had been involved in perilous events, and have learned knowledge so deadly that I would hesitate to write my tale here, but I feel that I must.  While in the service of Nara'ia, I had been involved in something which would change the context of my existence forever.  We had been stalked by an ancient enemy of the Von Zarovich line, and of the Count himself.  Indeed, this enemy of the Count is of the thrice-cursed Dilisnya line, which in itself would be of nu surpise; however, the particular name of this treacherous being is of great significance.  Leo Dilisnya, none other than the unu who was responsible for the assassination of the great Count Strahd von Zarovich I, and his kin, aside from Sturm von Zarovich.  I will nu say that Leo Dilisnya yet lives, as in truth, he does nu.  Rather, he exists, as he is vrolok.  To think that I had stood against such an ancient and terrible foe at the very gates of Castle Ravenloft is both amazing and terrifying.  I had nu chance against Leo Dilisnya, despite my well-drilled skill with the halberd, and had awoken in a cage within a cave, barely clinging to life.  In the end, it was nu steel to save me from a horrible fate, but witchcraft.  I had managed to escape the horrible fate which had awaited me with the most simple of arcane spells.  I was fortunate that Leo Dilisnya, despite his great power, possesses an arrogance that unu would be hard pressed to match.  He had underestimated me, and it was the unu thing which had spared my life that night.

While such knowledge and such an experience make my skin crawl with terror during the night hours, it pales in comparison to the most damning secret of all.  I nu know what to write here, to be honest.  Shall I tell you that I know why my hairs stand on end, and a feeling of dread overpowers me at the mere sight of Castle Ravenloft?  Shall I tell you that I know why the writings of Van Richten are outlawed?  Shall I tell you that now, I can nu say with certainty, how many Strahd von Zarovich's there have truly been?  Indeed, this is the most damning knowledge of all, especially for a Barovian.  The very land itself is cursed, and as for myself, being of the land, I can only surmise that I am cursed as well.  For weeks I had struggled with this; the knowledge that everything I had believed in and had placed my conviction in had been for naught.  In the end, I had decided to resign myself to my fate.  I had attempted to be something that I was nu, when I had been out of the Garda.  In the end, there is nothing I can do but embrace the horror of my fate, and accept that as a Barovian it is my lot in life to live and serve within this cursed realm.  Even now, when the hour is late, I still ponder this, but nu with the sense of urgency as I once had, and always with the conclusion to accept the truth.  Perhaps my heart and mind have become dulled with this most grave knowledge, or perhaps my sanity or morality have abandoned me.

As for now, I am back in His service, and have parted ways with Nara'ia.  Things had changed, and I now continue my study of witchcraft alone, and in secret.  It seems that in some ways my life has nu progressed, and that I am in the same postion I had been in when first arriving in Vallaki.  I am once again a Recruit in the Garda, and must continue along my course.  To think that had it nu been for the Ezrite cultists, that I would likely have been a Lance Corporal by now, and would have never been entangled with witchcraft, outlanders, vrolok, and knowledge of my cursed existence.  My innocence is gone, and my conviction is nu far behind, I fear.  So, as of yet, things have nu unravelled, but merely changed, yet have remained the same.

For Barov the Count and Barovia!

-Dragomir Korzha
« Last Edit: November 08, 2009, 07:45:11 PM by Philhelm »
What is the halberd made of?  Steel! Steel! Cold, hard steel!
What is the spirit of the halberd?  Killing! Killing! Killing without mercy!
What makes the green grass grow?  Blood! Blood! Bright, red blood!

Philhelm

  • Undead Master
  • ****
  • Posts: 254
Re: The Secret Journal of Dragomir Korzha
« Reply #2 on: November 12, 2009, 06:56:45 PM »
I had thought that perhaps things in my life were getting back to normal, but it would seem that Leo's dagger still hangs over my head.  I had hoped that he had forgotten about me, but such is nu the case.  Indeed, he had shown up unexpectantly, as he so often had done, to abduct me and force me to perform yet another ladul task for him.  I nu know what his scheme is, aside from ultimately slaying the Count.  As of now, the thing he wants makes nu sense to me as far as achieving that task, but I fear that I have nu choice but to comply with him, for now.  As I'm writing this, I can see Ruxandra's beautiful face, peaceful and alluring as she sleeps.  I realize that Leo can force me to do as he wishes, although I had told him that if he were to harm my Ruxandra, then I would never comply with his demands.  Despite this, I know that when I am nu longer useful to the vile wretch, he will likely slay me.  My only hope is that those who the Count has sent against him can work quickly, but I fear that time may be running out.

In the meantime, I pretend to nu worry, and take happiness in the moments I have with Ruxandra at my side.  I think that loving her is bittersweet for me; despite how much happiness she brings me, my mind is plagued with the fear that I will lose her to Leo's hand.  I find it ironic that now that my life has some purpose, it can all be stripped away in an instant.  I actually have a true reason to fear Leo now, and I know he will nu hesitate to use my fears against me, but I must nu let him.  I must outwit and outmaneuver him for now, and give him nu reason to believe that I am nu useful to him.

All is nu grim, however.  In fact, I have just recently managed to teach myself how to cast spells of the second circle.  For your sake, I shall tell you this:  Apparently there are nine circles, or tiers if you prefer, of spells.  It is something that is hard to explain, aside from the fact that the more powerful the spell, the more complicated it is to learn.  Indeed, witchcraft is nu unlike any other craft in this respect; unu must learn and practice before creating something of high quality, and this applies for witchcraft as well.  While this was certainly an improvement in my arcane abilities, this pales in comparison to having Ruxandra at my side, despite the fears that I have mentioned.  She is pig-headed, brash, and abrasive, and I love her all the more for it.  In some ways she reminds me of myself, but despite this, we nu seem to clash.  How I love her so.  While my mind is tormented with fear and doubt, tonight I will lay beside her as she sleeps and allow my worries to drift away as I hold her in my arms.

For the Count and Barovia!

-Dragomir Korzha
What is the halberd made of?  Steel! Steel! Cold, hard steel!
What is the spirit of the halberd?  Killing! Killing! Killing without mercy!
What makes the green grass grow?  Blood! Blood! Bright, red blood!