I’ve got to do something about these... episodes. They’ve been increasing... Lavinia hasn’t been around me as much lately. They strike more often when she’s not around. And when she’s not there to pull me back to reality... I often... I often find myself defenseless until I pass out or worse...
I keep seeing echoes of the wars back in France, fractured memories of that empty cell in the Asylum, visions of that dark church underground... that narrow chamber of torture, the chains and ropes hanging from the ceiling, supporting those hea- [there is a smear of ink here]
God, I can’t even write it! The things I see. I hope whatever hell Warji is in now is torturing him as much as I still am... And as for Lymbosia... I know I partly walked into that mess myself. I should
NEVER have trusted him. But the man had a way of seeming genuinely concerned, and I... I desperately wanted to believe that he could help me. But that Doctor is twisted and cruel.... perhaps just as bad as the Witch Doctor. The Devil only knows what would happen if the two of
THEM ever met...
I was... shopping for a suit in the Quartier Savant the other night... I’ve got to start looking more bloody presentable. I’ve always been one to care more about function and comfort over appearances, but if I’m to succeed in Dementlieu, I’ve got to look the part. Micahjah came into the shop with some barbaric tribesman from the deserts... apparently, trying to turn the man into a gentleman. Mildly ironic, considering the way that most people view Cage. I’m not sure what triggered it.... but for some reason, the man suddenly looked exactly like that fiend to me.. I lost it, despite my best efforts, and those of Micahjah to calm me. I struck the man, tried to attack him... dear god, I shudder to think what may have happened if I had not been thrown off...
Somehow I managed to collect myself, and Micahjah later caught up to me at the Manor Retreat. Glad it was him that found me and not someone else...
He tried to speak to me about his faith... that of Ezra... He seems to truly believe in the Lady of the Mists... he thinks that she will be able to help me. I’m not sure. I’ve seen a lot of strange things in this world, but I’m not ready to sign my soul over to some goddess I hardly know anything about... Lady of the Mists... why do they call her that? The Mists were what brought me here. How can anyone view her kindly if she is connected to such?
Yet... Micahjah certainly is inspired by his faith, and seems to be calmed by it... I don’t know...
The relief I felt at seeing Lavinia at the door to the room was indescribable. The troubles and visions that were swirling in my head seemed to fade almost instantly as she looked into my eyes. I don’t know what I would do without her now... Whatever happens, I am never going to fail her. She sacrificed so much for me... I will do anything for her.
I will not falter.
I’ve started to collect some of the items that Mamere requested for her.... I hope this is not folly... if it is? Well, we’ll figure out something else...
At least it seems like I’m becoming sound enough with my coin.... I’ve been doing some work for various groups and companies that have come through the Mist camp. Mercenary work. Something that I know well. There is a comfort in doing a job that you’ve trained your whole life for. Very profitable too....
After one such venture, I found myself in Barovia. Figured it was time to check on the scene in Vallaki.... The journey west started well enough, until I entered a storm near the Tser Falls.... terrible weather, a gale like the ones they had back in England... I could hardly discern the full moon up above through the swirling masses of dark clouds. An unsettling feeling started to close in on me, and then a scent drifted to my nose. Blood.
I picked up the pace, my hand moving to my sheathed blade. And then I saw him. Agaran. Sitting on a muddy slope on the other side of the bridge, the ravaged corpses of some great werebeast and several wolves torn apart in front of him. A pool of crimson blood, now mixed with the dark umber of mud, surrounded him. His armor, usually kept in such fine condition, was torn apart, and his shield had been nearly shattered.
I hurried to his side, slipping over the sodden ground... but then... then I saw the look on his face. Empty. Blank. Defeated...
Never had I see my friend like this before. Even in the direst of situations, he had always had that look of determination. Confidence. But now.... now none of that...
His wounds were great, yes, but it was... the wounds to his spirit that scared me...
It was difficult to figure out what exactly was going on in his head, but eventually, I understood that he was tired. Tired of it all. The same situations, and the same results.... or rather, in his mind, the lack of any apparent results. Day after day, night after night... The Mists seem to have finally taken their toll on him. I tried to tell him that he was doing well, doing what he sought to, what he believed in... but I don’t think I really got through to him. Agaran... I believe he thinks he has failed here. Failed as the warrior that he believes himself to be. The sheer amount of evil in this place has gotten to him.
We had a long discussion out there on the road about it all. I told him how he had helped me, and without his guiding influence and friendship, I would be lost to this place.... but... His anguish ran deep.
We had been travelling west along the road slowly, for his injuries were great... when suddenly, he gave a battle cry, and charged a pack of ogres. We dispatched the three of them quickly, but... there was this look in his eye that I had seen in some men before. This was it. He didn’t plan to walk away from this fight...
He charged the entire clan.... I tried to keep up with him, fighting by his side, trying to get to him... but I knew it was folly....
I think Agaran was trying to kill himself. I think he had finally had enough...
I managed to lose the pair of ogres that pursued me in the darkness, and then made my way back to the scene.... it was a slaughter.. there were at least six of the brutes torn apart, limbs severed and strewn about... and there, in the center of the pile... Agaran... His battered body lying in the scattered leaves, his sword still gripped in his hand.
I did the only thing I could think of.... I strapped his sword and shield to my back... and hauled him myself back to the Midway Haven.... I knew it was bloody stupid. The dead of night, and no way to defend myself... but I was not going to let him end this way. Even if he thought he wanted it.
No, my friend... this is not your end....
The hours after that are still a blur, but somehow, I was able to get him to the Church of the Morninglord.... I hardly knew where I was... but the clerics there were eager to help.... It turns out, that woman was there... the one Agaran speaks so highly of. Adeline. She was able to bring him back to life....
I can’t figure it out... What about his prophecy? Does it still hold true? Was he truly dead? Had that merchant cheated him that night? If so, did the prophecy break when he was brought back? Or was it not his time at all... had there been no run in with a merchant...
I suppose I’ll never know for sure..
But what I do know, is that my friend is still in a dangerous state.. the things he said later... God, I fear for him...
Now that I look back on this, I can also see how foolish I was that day... though I do not regret it. The risk was worth it... to get Agaran to the church, I had to pass close to the eyes of the Garda.... later, when Adeline, Agaran and I started to head into Vallaki... Vasile.
I don’t know how he seemed to come out of nowhere, but in that instant, if he wanted to arrest me, I would have had no way to escape. I was tired, dead tired, and also I could feel another episode threatening to overtake me.... However... my fate wasn’t sealed that day.
“I might have been inclined to arrest him for his blackmarket dealings, trading with Rebels, and dealing with the Boritsi family. But it doesn’t appear you are successfully doing anything these days. That right, Dumas?”I don’t know if he’s taken pity on my situation, or if I amuse him...
Regardless, Vasile seems to know much about my dealings.. always seems like he has. I wonder, does he know of my involvement with Rica and his court? I don’t know.. and nor can I decide if I should seek him out and have an open discussion with him... I’ve never trusted a Garda yet... But... maybe it’s at least worth it to see what’s going on....
The three of us had words in the Broken Bell, Adeline, Agaran and I.
Though we both didn’t seem to want to talk about it, she could see that we were up to our necks in trouble...
“I’ve never seen men so pathetic as you doi...”
I had to bite my tongue at that.... but I fear she’s correct, in a way...
I don’t think.... we got through to him. I feel things may take a drastic turn for the worse...
Blast it all, sometimes I just want to go... back to Normandy...
But only if Lavinia can come with me.
