Author Topic: The Red Journal - Halvor Hadiya In Text  (Read 1217 times)

Hallvor Hadiya

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The Red Journal - Halvor Hadiya In Text
« on: July 26, 2018, 12:54:13 PM »

I am Halvor Hadiya, and I am a murderer, slaver, and monster.

I was born in Thay in the city of Bezantur, to a wine merchant and her husband. Those misty memories that I can only grasp the barest edges of now seem a golden age indeed, but I know that for the nostalgia it is.

My early childhood was one of bazaar and harsh words laughter and the smell of spices, I remember running up and down the street with the other children dodging pack animals and adults alike, maybe we’d take a loaf from an inattentive stall we didn’t need it but we were children so innocent, so free. Unburned.

The day was quickly approaching when I’d reach manhood I would’ve taken over my mother’s business and take my first real steps in the mercantile battlefield known as the bazaar. But it was not to be, through a number of correspondence and debts a situation conspired where a young Hadiya was entered into the service of the Red Wizard Zahim Zaxim.


I took my first steps into the academy my feet beating out a spasmodic rhythm on the stairs, the air stung my face and the acrid smell of chemicals even here outside its walls pricked my nose. I almost lost my nerve and fled the place there and then but I braced myself and entered its hallowed halls.

I was with my long-time travelling companion and guide Aigos Quoa, if not for him I would’ve never got this far. We spent an hour in the library discussing such amusing ideas as using beams to carve an ass into the Barovian mountains essentially mooning Vallaki, Lawgiver knows they deserve it. I can’t quite remember what else we spoke of such light pleasantries before my interview seem a distant memory.

It wasn’t long before Instructor Kozá Vászoly walked onto the scene he seemed an amiable sort but there was something not quite right about this teacher, he seemed too distant like he was watching the world through a window or some act on stage, far removed and waiting for the tragedy.

It was under the guidance of Zahim Zaxim that I learned of the greatest art, a painter may use brushes and crushed ochre and plants but we paint with the universe, like sculptors we chipped away at the stone until our masterpiece stood before us. He was harsh but fair he didn’t press too hard nor too softly he made me work for everything I had and would be. He had other apprentices enough to inspire a healthy dose of competition in us, I will not name them for I feel I would condemn them with the act. But let us say there was a favourite pupil and it wasn’t me, everyone adored him or at least pretended to, otherwise you’d find your notebooks torn up and the classroom poised against you. He wasn’t happy to win he had to see others fail, I found my niche as the jester always willing to laugh and taking the jabs of the older boys with ease which I had learned to do in the bazaar.

But one balmy afternoon when the sun was cresting the horizon, and everything was bathed in a dirty orange glow. I was speaking with my peers parrying jokes back and forth like young fencers with practice swords when I struck too deep. I made a remark about his mother and a gnoll and things went sour the room turned on me in an instant. First was the quiet than the storm, I was held down by two others and a third kicked me in the ribs I couldn’t help but scream, my cries for help quickly turning into wet sobs until they left me crawled up on the floor in a ball.

They were going to kill me.

I saw it before I heard it, the way they turned their backs on as if I was dead and buried already, and then the whispers “when will he do it, how will he do it?”. I went to the master straight away, seeking refuge in his authority but there was little to be found.

It is commonly said to become a Red Wizard you must have at least two hands bathed red by the end of your apprenticeship, else how will you paint your robe?

He told me to only come to him with something that truly mattered, and not before. So I didn’t matter I was to be the sacrificial lamb to someone else's rise. No. I waited for my time and then and only then will I strike hard and fast, I observed his comings and goings his routines and his habits marking them down. I let my studies falter and suffered in the class for it, but I did not care. I would live!

So on one fateful night after they had been out drinking celebrating his rise in the master’s eyes and his trials on the horizon he got a little drunk, a little too drunk. He forgot to even put up his alarm spell, a mistake I was not kind enough to let him make twice.


Kozá Vászoly sat me down at a cold table deep within the academy Agios waiting above. It was do or die. He started with a series of questions giving a brief description of the magic circles asking me which they belonged to, I almost trod over myself with nervousness but I was able to pull through getting every question right.

Then came the practical he asked me what spells I knew of the school of necromancy, I answered him honestly. Not many Ray of Enfeeblement, Negative Energy Ray, and Vampiric Touch. He told me to prepare Vampiric Touch and wait so I did when he returned he returned with a Rashemi serf in toe, he sat him in the middle of the room and told me to cast it on him. My mouth was dry my hand’s very heavy and when I met that glazed expression I wanted to run long and hard until I could run no longer or my feet bled. I did neither. I stood and looked for a good minute before the snap of the Instructors voice snapped me from my trance like a whip on a serf. Heh.

I raised my hand, it was like I was watching from a very far place and this body these actions were not my own, but they were. When I muttered the incantation I knew I condemned this man to die to prove my worth, was my life worth so much more than his? Did he have a family? A wife, a child, or. I pulled his vitality out of him like a fisherman reeling it in on my hook until I had it all, he collapsed there and then. He was dead.

This was the second time I’ve killed.


I pressed the pillow down on his face it took a moment for him to realize what I was doing, but by then it was too late. I had the leverage and control all he could do was flail out me scratching and kicking. I did not let go, his struggles became pitched than slower than altogether stopped. When I knew he did not breathe anymore I let go and slid to the ground and sobbed tears running down my cheeks freely. I had just killed someone. When I came to attention the master was staring down at me, I thought about running but I did not have the strength, and I just wanted to disappear and I hoped then that the master would.

But he said.

“Get yourself cleaned up we have lesions tomorrow” and smiled. It was not long before the mist took me, on some abandoned street in the city when I was on errands. I walked boldly into the mist and boldly made the same mistakes twice.

I am Halvor Hadiya, and I am a wizard.
« Last Edit: September 15, 2019, 07:40:21 AM by Hallvor Hadiya »
Once upon a time the plural of 'wizard' was 'war'." -- The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett

Hallvor Hadiya

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Re: The Red Journal - Halvor Hadiya In Text
« Reply #1 on: October 15, 2018, 12:46:26 AM »
[Located at the bottom of Halvor's Satchel a journal can be found, bound in a mundane lock DC: 12]

Late Ches "The Claw of the Sunsets"
I do not write this cause I want to, I write this cause I must. A storm blows across all lands and with it scouring the faces from my memory until only an impression of them is left in the wake of such a terrible wind. Soon there will be thunder and I will not be able to think for all the noise then there will be the lightning to which I must cower, and finally the rain which will fall down my cheeks like the tears that I cannot cry.

Agios is dead, he has been dead for some time I have mourned him in private and built him a memorial out of my memories, which is the only private place I have now. And even that not so private I do not guard it, the Academy which I have labored under spits out the bones of the kind and brave, it is only the cunning and deceitful that have any hope.

Mid Tarsakh "The Claw of the Storms"
The tower has become quiet once more, teacher and students alike return to their private experiments. One could almost forget the coming of Lady Eleni and all the chaos she brings, except for in the things unsaid.

They will all stab me in the back if given the chance, there is no brotherhood in these halls.
                                                                                                                                   We must paint our robes red with the failures of our peers.
                                                                                                       Do not forget.

I return to my own experiments and work with grafts. [A loose series of notes is followed]

“Flesh” the soft substance consisting of muscle and fat that is found between the skin and bones of a human or an animal.

"Bandit" one who is proscribed or outlawed; hence, a lawless desperate marauder, a brigand: usually applied to members of the organized gangs which infest the mountainous regions.

“Phantasmal killer” a spell that cause illusory creature/s to manifest, inducing pain and on a occasion death.


Sample Human
Human age 20 to 30
Ethnicity Barovian
Sample quality moderate, occupation of donor “Bandit” the body had previously suffered many contortion and scarring likely from puncturing and slashing weapons such as swords, arrows, and axes. I was careful to preserve the body and not cause undue strain on it by casting “Phantasmal killer” causing the subject to go into cardiac arrest and cease bodily functions. Following with a clean incision below the abdomen retrieving my samples with a scalpel.

Test 1 MAGE ARMOR: I began my first test with the first circle spell “Mage Armor”, instantaneously a transparent field envelopes it not unlike armor, making incision all but impossible for the tools at my disposal. Upon consulting my colleague we cast the third circle spell “Greater magic weapon” allowing ease in the following dissembling.

Results: There appears to be no physical changes in the sample, the intangible force lasting a total of nine hours tho this depends on the skill of the practitioner. There appears to be no way to force change on the sample without enchanting it like common gear. More tests will be needed to prove this is entirely fruitless.

Test 2 ANIMAL ASPECTS: I start the experiment with the second circle spell “Bull’s Strength”, I begin to run a series of tests attacking the “flesh” with a dagger, a clean downward strike. It parts at the touch, followed by inducing various elemental spells such as “Acid splash”, “Cone of cold”, “Fire Arrow”. Sample destroyed, the only noticeable is a slight tautness to the muscles, exhibiting higher resilience, this probably explains why the increase in strength doesn’t harm the user.

“Bear’s Endurance” the density increases in the flesh giving the individual greater vitality, the sample takes longer to dispose of.

“Cat’s Grace” I cannot find noticeable change within the sample, maybe it's faster? But it isn’t moving. Note: Tried “Animate Dead” on tissue with and without “Cat’s Grace”, it kind of wobbles faster.

“Eagle's Splendor” it kind of looks better.

Results: The animal aspects induce for the most part obvious physical changes, before fading over a period of time. Tonics and potion may be able to make longer lasting effects, mayhaps pumped into the blood with some device?

Sample Desert Troll
Domain Har'Akir
Sample quality exceptional, a troll adolescent the hue of its body had not entirely turned the shade of rust common amongst its mature brethren. The tissue was taken when I spent time amongst a warband combing the desert for treasure, I used an enchanted blade to cut from it a sizeable portion bathed it in a preserving agent and wrapped in an oiled sheet for transport.

Notes: I am excited to see how these effects will affect the trolls natural regenerative properties. 

Test 1: Animal Aspects, I begin to cast in order the aspects causing little change in the tissue not previously recorded.

Test 2: I inject a healing tonic of moderate strength into the sample, the tissue stays inert for five seconds before it begins to slowly expand, I have obviously reawakened its inert healing prowess. The fat and muscle of the skin slowly begin to grow at a pace of a centimeter a minute before halting at around one times larger than it previously was. I insert another tonic repeating the process until the mass of flesh is the size of half the tabletop. The flesh does not produce any bones or bodily protrusions, then how do broken bones heal? Does the flesh make an impromptu cast sealing the bones into their proper places, or does deeper tissue reconfigure it?

Note: For further study on this I will have to dissect the body of an entire troll, and or test on a live subject.

Early Mirtul "The Melting"
I am threatened and accused, all around me suspicion follows like a cloud of biting insects. Curse the reputation of Hazlan, curse of the Academy for letting truth escape those black halls. I am told to keep what goes on a secret when the Instructors flaunt their knowledge like two copper whores working the docks, and for that book to be made so widely available.

I have no one within, and no one with out. I need the red robe, I need it to be truly safe.
                                                                                                                                 I need it for my plans.

« Last Edit: January 10, 2019, 11:45:53 PM by Hallvor Hadiya »
Once upon a time the plural of 'wizard' was 'war'." -- The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett

Hallvor Hadiya

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Re: The Red Journal - Halvor Hadiya In Text
« Reply #2 on: January 09, 2019, 09:37:31 PM »
As I prepare my tool's and material for the coming experiment I organize some of my old notes. [A series of loose papers is followed]

Undead is the name that collectively refers to the beings between the state of life and death, reanimated by magical or divine forces these creatures stalk the land in a myriad of shapes and sizes. The following observation will be on one of their numbers, the Ghoul.

Ghouls are humanoid undead that often appears as gray-skinned emaciated figures, they are corporeal undead, sentient, and hungering. The origin of Ghouls is a hotly debated subject, it is often said in folklore that the first ghouls were men or elves that were cursed for eating the flesh of their own kind, tho whether true or false they gather in large numbers across our lands.

The ghoul main diet consists heavily on carrion, journals and first-person accounts describe a ghouls den heaped with bodies and other extremities waiting to reach the desired levels of putrescence to meet their tastes. Tho they have been seen to eat fresh kills when hungry, but seem to prefer bodies deep in the process of decomposition.

In my own studies and dissection, I have found the following; most of its organs are withered and resemble blackened husks, the stomach sags grotesquely stretched from a period of overeating. The acid is far stronger than that of a normal human, able to break down bone and gore quite easily, the elasticity of the sack itself seems also greatly increased ability to hold far more than what it did in its previous life.

After the digestion process has taken place, the creature produces a black sludge that leaves through the usual method, unless its body has been punctured in some form and will leak from that newly formed orifice instead.

Healing and tissue reconstruction
In theory and practice the creature is a being of a certain energy type, just as we mortals all have our spark of positive energy making up our vitality the ghoul is a creature of negative energy. Replenishing or diminishing such affects the overall health of the creature.

In my observations, the skin of the creature is almost rubber in quality, and when applied with negative energy the creature seems to lapse into a sense of euphoria, as the wounds are healed. The tissue of the skin began to push up from its depths much as a normal healing spell would on a living subject.

Rest and sleeping cycles making up the metabolic functions
In journals and first-hand experience, the Ghoul seems to naturally take the archetype of a nocturnal hunter, as both protection from village militias and the element of surprise afforded to them by the night. Ghouls also seem to be irritated by daylight this does not, however, damage the creature but more to do with a psychological behavior.

The process of ghoulification is a multi-tiered on the nails and saliva of a Ghoul there exists a corruption known as Ghoul Fever that can be contracted from being marred or ingesting the flesh of said creature, this ailment withers and drains the strength from the individual until the humanoid eventually expires and becomes a Ghoul. The time this takes can vary depending on the individual's constitution, a strong man of hearty build may survive for months.

This, however, can be superseded with the spell Create Undead, transforming a dead body instantaneously into a Ghoul or other such Undead. Curses and other rituals may produce the same result but this is the most formalized approach.

From bedridden humanoid to creature of the night, these monsters stalk the graveyards and other such places strewn with carrion, the development of said creatures begins like any other disease sapping strength and health, eventually midway through the process the individual begins to suffer under the corruption of negative energy, skin turning pale white fingertips blackening and the lips peeling back from the mouth leaving it in a rictus smile. They begin to lose their appetite, except for an odd new hunger that they can’t seem to quite scratch. Eventually, they turn into the Undead known as a Ghoul.

Notes: Some people believe a Ghast is an advanced form of Ghoul, while obviously somehow related there does not appear to be a transformation of development of a ghoul into one, while there are theories there is not enough proof.

The creature posses vision that is comparable to our day time counterpart, while their vitality lacks their agility and strength far past the average man, their intelligence is based and comparable to that of an average outsider. Their attacks not only contain the dreaded corruption Ghoul Fever but also a paralyzing quality that can leave their victims helpless, this usually only lasts a moment but they are often times critical.

The tenth of Yinvar
I hope the resources I've requested meet my specifications. It would just be like 'them' to purposely Lawgiver forgive me, screw up my request in some form of self-serving politicking. This next experiment could have very much tangible effects for Hazlan in the fields of agriculture and military, it would be nice for once to see practical results rather than another feather in someone's red cap.

Once upon a time the plural of 'wizard' was 'war'." -- The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett

Hallvor Hadiya

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Re: The Red Journal - Halvor Hadiya In Text
« Reply #3 on: January 10, 2019, 11:30:19 PM »
The tenth of Yinvar
The experiment was an utter failure, I had to be rescued by the instructor to make any headway, I didn't expect a full attendance with the Zulkir watching himself. This proves I need to take my time and practice my surgery, but also check the bindings I now have a death on my hand cause of lax containment procedures and now await my punishment at the hands of the Instructor. [This is followed by a scattering of censored notes]

Experiment ‘Regenerative Transfer’ - Troll Graft

Goal: To transfer the healing prowess of a troll onto a subject, through the use of surgically implement prepared skin onto the subject.[/i]

Subject: RT1
Occupation: Rebel
Ethnicity: Rashemi
Gender: Male
Age: Young Adult

I collected the subject from storage casting the fifth level spell Dominate Person to ensure compliance, ordering him to lay down on the slab and securing him to it. The first incision began along the arm cut out a square of flesh that was replaced with prepared troll skin, it was then stitched together.

Observation: The skin is inert and has no observable effects on the individual, likely due to the way it was prepared and stored.

[Removed] Tonic: I administered the potion smearing it along the wound in an attempt at joining the graft, this failed. The prepared sample of troll skin did not react but the subjects own did pushing up and forcing out the stitching and leaving the two to separate.

Instructor [Removed] aided me with the work, who’s instrumental and masterful use of the scalpel and knife put my own skill to shame. We repeated the aforementioned steps before applying a dose of negative energy to the skin and subject.

Observation: It seemed to cause discomfort to RT1, and weaken him as one would expect.

We repeated the process but administered a potion directly to him, this combination of [Removed] and healing reawakened the inert skin joining the two completely, I then followed this up with a cut along the graft and elsewhere observing the skin to heal but elsewhere to bleed and congeal as normal.

Observation: The combination of the [Removed] spell and the [Removed] potion fused the skin and graft, however, it only gained the properties of self-healing where the prepared skin was formed.

Following this we attempted more invasive surgery trying to replace as much skin as possible on the subject, neglecting the head, neck, and pubic region in a wish to preserve the subjects mental capacity. However, RT1 expired during this event, likely from some weakness or frailty within his own condition.

Subject: RT2
Occupation: Ox
Ethnicity: Ox
Gender: Male
Age: Adult

Following the expiration of RT1 we retrieved RT2 a beast of burden known for its durability, leading it into the examination room, I first cast of the sixth level spell Coma putting the creature to sleep and followed by a planar binding to have a subservient Slaadi put it on the slab and secure it, then cast the seventh circle spell Solipsism so it would not register any pain in the proceedings.

Master [Removed] than cleared away the fur and skin leaving its viscera and musculature visible but intact, I held down the prepared skin while the Master stitched it to the beast, we followed this up with the third circle spell Negative energy burst before applying the potion.

The flesh reacted almost instantly sealing the wounds and forming a thick layer over RT2, the ox than broke out of its restraints knocking over a candelabra starting a small fire(that was dealt with) before breaking down the door.

We followed the creatures trail as it had also smashed open the door to the conjuration lab, and caught an Arcanist unaware nearing the cells goring him to death. This all came to a head when we confronted the beast in the foyer trying to break out of the Academy. Casting the spells coma and Solipsism which had all worked previously the creature was now somehow immune to it, showing no signs of effect. Master [Removed] instructed me to put down such a creature, I called upon my Slaadi servant to deal with it and it did with a combination of physical attacks and divine spells.

Results: The graft can be completed on a large scale covering the subject, and administering a blast of [Removed] to prime the graft followed by a [Removed] potion. Transferring the healing prowess of a troll onto it, but this seems to also increase aggression and alter the mental capacity making it immune to even high circle illusion spells.

The Elventh of Yinvar
Keeping a low profile my bounty has been raised due to that mishap of nature killing some serfs out in Barovia, I had nothing to do with that creature nor does the Academy seem to care at all for its wandering. If I'm to be blamed at least have it for the abominations I've actually made, but such is life.
Once upon a time the plural of 'wizard' was 'war'." -- The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett

Hallvor Hadiya

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Re: The Red Journal - Halvor Hadiya In Text
« Reply #4 on: July 19, 2019, 05:33:57 AM »
The nineteenth of Eyule

another bounty another day, if they desired my presence they could've asked nicely. No matter, I've achieved enough power from the boarders and can now focus inward; after all the goal of those expeditions was to build my skills and agents. I do not miss the outside, arrogance of foreigners and their horrendous living conditions. Here in my room sipping my chill wine with 'serfs' at my beck and command I wonder why I ever left Hazlan.

Power, that's why.

But now I await news on my marriage proposal and begin to take my next steps at ascension, having a house name will solidify my assets and power structure. Even if I must as the Senior Instructor puts it 'create heirs', I'll adopt or give a bastard my name. I have little interest in women and have no plan in changing that where I can get away with it, but we must all suffer righteously for our reward.

[The incomplete notes on Planar Contact; results]
GOAL: To form a link with a planar outsider of agreeable character for questioning; the following transcript describes the events in detail.


Devil/Baatezu: A form of extra planar beings inhabiting the Nine Hells or as it is sometimes referred to as Baator, with a strict caste system that influences form and power political and personal. Penchant for rules.

Imp: A small devil with bat like wings and a prehensile tail commonly tipped in a poisonous barb, they out of all Baatezu can be most commonly found outside of their home realm, usually serving as spies for spell casters and great devils.

Maggot Pit: A place where fallen souls may end up, located somewhere within the nine hells. Described as slimy, information incomplete…

I HH, have gathered up a force of students and orderlies for the task and the potential applicant [removed], with his following interview detailed later in this report.

The Summoning of the Imp; Maggot Lord

The conjuration hall was prepared setting out two circles of protection one for the Summoner, and the other the summoned. Followed by the summoning circle itself set within consecutive rings of binding and protection. Upon the completion of said wards a Lesser Planar Binding was cast calling upon an imp.

At first the creature tested my wards and spat and cursed, threatening and cajoling this with time too passed. The creature introduced itself as the Lord of the Maggot Pit, a title of no relevance whatsoever. The interview concluded when the Imp gave out the name [removed] the [removed] when questioned about the [removed] Yugoloth.

The Summoning of [removed]; the [removed]

I increased the barrier, warded my assistance and prepared the spell Great Planar Binding, the very ground shook and a pillar of flame and smoke billowed up out of my circle, and wings that if weren’t contained could have easily touched the sides of the walls.

I had called upon the Renderer of Flesh, much like all its kind it bellowed threats and contemned us to death. My wards bulged at its attempt, I still do not know if it had made a serious attempt whether my bindings would’ve kept it ensnared.

Note: I had prepared a number of Banishment's and spells that prey upon their kind, the Academy was in little danger if it escaped.

Conclusion & Thought’s

We have seemed to have unexpectedly unveiled a planar plot to invade the core, this [Removed] presumes to use us as its cat’s paw to right its previous failing.

Applicant [Removed]; a man of advanced years and stoic disposition. I had my doubts due to such age what could a man learn when he had seen half his life or more, what hope do we have to change a lifetime of bad teaching. So I devised to simply toss the man into the deep end of the metaphorical ocean, sink or swim he’d either become an apprentice or die. There was no middle ground.

I tested him with basic magical theory, and his proposed thesis. The man is a romantic, more in love with the process than the result, I blame the teaching of his previous order called the ‘[Removed]’ some monastic group dedicated to finding [removed]. Utter rubbish.

His thesis however long and rambling did have merit, self-building army; the reproduction of the wight. He described the hierarchy of spawning, how undead prodigy obey their sire and how that spirals out across the land. He proposed that by creating and controlling one it is possible to have the links to a self spawning army.

Conclusion: I have tested him thoroughly he did not flee during the summoning or shrink under questioning, and I have decided to support his entrance into the Red Academy.
« Last Edit: August 17, 2019, 12:25:35 AM by Hallvor Hadiya »
Once upon a time the plural of 'wizard' was 'war'." -- The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett

Hallvor Hadiya

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Re: The Red Journal - Halvor Hadiya In Text
« Reply #5 on: August 16, 2019, 11:56:17 PM »
Located at the bottom of Halvor's Satchel a journal can be found, bound in a mundane lock DC: 12

The first of Avgust,

I write this entry more out of habit than news, what conflict touches shores and borders only the barest whisper hints here in Hazlan. A great and terrible beast roams Barovia, like that in itself is some great achievement. There will always be more foreigners to perish under strange and new claws.

I care so little, the strongest emotion to the plight of foreigners I can muster is short lived contempt. May the beast slake its thirst, and dine throughout the dawning and the setting.

The tenth of Avgust,

my formal promotion Instructor, has long been overdue. My countless sacrifices for Academy and house finally bare fruit, even if I now lack the hands to hold them. But with one outstretched I hold it. Grasp it. STRANGLE IT.

My studies have finally bloomed but it has left me uncertain at this new stage of mastery, I am almost listless, without goal. I seldom bother to stay unchanged, basking in the limitless possibilities of mastery of form. One day I shall shed all imperfections entirely...

It seems like my expertise will be useful for Transmutation 02. Count on my collaboration for that particular module.

- Mumed Za'am

The seventeenth of Avgust,

the students progress well, their circle strength increases by the cycle and the weaning of whimsy and nostalgia is slowly but surely being replaced by calculating practicality, but it at times feels like I’m watering plants they must be made to flower, their initiative is weak.

Student [Censored] he is arrogant to the point of fault, strong in his power for one so young, and clearly thinks himself far more clever than sense would suggest. He has ulterior motives and plays at being mysterious. He may need humbling… an experiment he can’t hope but fail at? Maybe.

Student [Censored] she is too coddled by half, her life of luxury and nobility has left her lacking a work ethic. While I appreciate her mind she wouldn’t even dane to dirty her hands in viscera and musclicture. I will ascribe more taxing activities. Lemure harvesting...

Student [Censored], slave [Censored] like many of her lot she is more akin to a plant than a human, some kind of wallflower, sitting there and soaking in the knowledge around her. But has the potential to rise above her station by simple proximity, she will be easy to mould.

Student [Censored] has yet to distinguish themselves from their peers, I can find no great fault or boon in their character. We shall see how long that remains, for better or worse.

Lab Assistant [Censored] has distinguished himself of high character even if his demi-human nature is much to be desired, amongst all my students he hides his intentions well under a veneer of obedience. Note: He will struggle due to his affliction I may strip it from him in time. A polymorph spell of sufficient strength should right such flaws.

Lab Assistant [Censored] good for nothing hin has not been seen in days, I will have him lashed and that will be the least of the kindnesses I shall render upon his hide.

Candidate [Censored] has shown enough qualities to become a student, waiting for a good time to inform him of such.

Student [Censored] she has long languished as a student, even if her standing is all but academic. Matron of the Za’am estate; she will wear the ring soon enough we have too much invested for it to be otherwise.
« Last Edit: August 17, 2019, 12:07:16 AM by Hallvor Hadiya »
Once upon a time the plural of 'wizard' was 'war'." -- The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett

Hallvor Hadiya

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Re: The Red Journal - Halvor Hadiya In Text
« Reply #6 on: August 18, 2019, 12:10:52 AM »
Hastily scrawled notes are slapped into the book, they are the markings of an unsteady hand and mind...

The circle is closed, the cycle winter. Everything died.

I’m caught by nostalgia and dread
What was once the master fell to student

I write this out of self reflection
though I dare not look in my reflection
What stranger will I see
what foreign eye’s stare back at me?

He came back
A spectre called up from old El-Koth
As old as mountains and deep as stone
but this was flesh and bone

I killed him
I turned the sword in his heart
like a key a lock
And opened up his life to the floor
To be stepped upon and no more

What I hope was the last of El-Koth

The Eighteenth of Avgust

the attack on Ramulai followed by the assault on the Red Academy, was a surprise no one was prepared for. After all, no one had expected the Rashemi rebels and bandits to rise up in such great numbers, nor for them to follow such a strange thing as that became of Fennox.

This only convinces me more that the El-Koth and their ruins need to be dealt with more thoroughly, how easy for them would it be to contact our enemies, manipulate nations and sell swords and pit such a great force against us we could not hope but falter. Even our own great heroes aren’t safe, remade in their image.

We need more students, too many were lost in the fight. I am not sure half of them are ready to take the robe, but what choice do we have? Student [censored], and [censored] have shown great fortitude and luck to survive this cycles events, keep an eye on them.
« Last Edit: September 15, 2019, 04:26:12 AM by Hallvor Hadiya »
Once upon a time the plural of 'wizard' was 'war'." -- The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett

Hallvor Hadiya

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Re: The Red Journal - Halvor Hadiya In Text
« Reply #7 on: September 15, 2019, 04:38:15 AM »
Sharp and tight writing is scrawled out in the journal, as if not by hand but by automation: Amanuensis.

A head full of itself, and sick with its contents; an unsound mind leads a sickly body not marked by pock or tumour but by apathy and regret. I am Halvor Hadiya, and I am a Red Wizard of Hazlan; I have done many things in my time in this place such wonders and horrors in equal amounts I should burst by the very recollection of them. I have shared such with the world and come to make those around me regret my existence, and lust for my power. I say fools one and all and I the greatest of them all.

Can you know painful contentment the ascension of one's dreams and to find them no more real than a heat haze covering sand, feel as it slips between your fingers and know what I now know. I am powerful beyond mere mortals and might alter reality at a whim; any form I desire I might take like raider takes women, conquest such that I might rain fire upon my foes and have no need of friends or allies. But they all died long ago, and those who remain my heart has hardened to.

What is this that I now find myself servant to a lie what experiment have I laboured for or any of us who claims red has helped the people of our land; where is our superiority when it stumbles at the first hurdle. Progress; it is a think tank for the most deranged minds and so who cares when one floats to the surface to be scooped out by uncaring hands, like so many dead fish not even to be eaten but thrown away.

And yet I labour all my hours to its continued existence, pruning and growing students like aggressive house plants. What good will they do for Hazlan? No that is the wrong question; what evil will they do on its behalf. And what’s worse is that I don’t even care, I am content to sit amongst my peers like a fat spider spinning webs and pulling in slow flies.

Know my legacy, for these hand’s may not strangle the life from you and yours, but to generations to come I have spat vile into your wells and made statues to your misery. I laugh to think of ambitions crushed!

Red Mist; on a Red Shore. A Halvor Hadiya monologue.
Once upon a time the plural of 'wizard' was 'war'." -- The Last Continent, by Terry Pratchett