The Diary of Alidor (continues...)
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_Please forgive the manner in which this is written, for I am not a scribe, but a man with no Title….
I arrived in Norwick, the same day I left my last entry. I got off the ship, waved a hearty goodbye to the ever-anxious captian. I asked the Norwick Dock Master if there were some things about the town he could give me a brief once-through. He just smiled and asked if I wanted to go to a place called Peltarch. I shrugged it off, not goin to make a scene at the place Tempus calls for me.
I walked west.
Past some cows, a farm or two, simple town not different than others I've been to. I came to a large bon-fire, surrounding it were stone benches as if it were a popular gathering spot. I figured, since I'm new in town, I might come across some people who know more of the land.
I sat, looking around from my seat. A Dwarven merchant has a store behind where I was sitting. I hadn't the means nor the gold to purchase anything, so I stayed sitting. Sitting across from the Norwick crafters Union Hall. Still don't get it. Why do crafters need a Union? Or a Big building in the middle of a no-where town to unionize. OH well, somethings are better left un-known.
I don't remember much about that day. My first day in Norwick was new, unexplored, uneventful.
I met fellow travelers and citizens alike, going about there daily business.
I met some, who's business what that of the blade.
I quickly aquianted myself with those that looked of strong, or violent natures. My inner prisoner, the one I've spent so much time trying to forget, told me to be scarse, be quick, be alone.
They have an affinity for hunting. Goblins mostly. As if there's been a war brewing for ages, and the one Great Battle to end it has yet to come. It's not all un-filtered hostility. Many nights have the Goblins attacked the city gates. I've witnessed a couple myself. I feel myself stronger than before. Fighting the Goblins has made me quicker, stronger, and wiser in battle. I often mention my faith in Tempus. Some show the same faith, some more.
I met a man named Hammerhand. Odd name I know, but his intentions are pure and strong. He is a war priest of Tempus. His devout skills are quite impressive. I've seen him defeat several Undead minions with a blow from his Warhammer, but…I've also seen him fall. Along with another friend of mine, who is a baneite, and therefore shall remain nameless due to the discrmination of Bane in this City. They both came around eventually, Hammer saved by his faith in Tempus, the Baneite saved by a skilled medic with a large bag of coins dangling from his belt.
He is a dear friend this Baneite. I've known him only for a week or so, but he and I share more than either of us know. Loss, a search for a purpose, a new found faith in...faith. His however, is shared by few, loathed by many. He isn't an evil man by any means. He lives for battle such as I. He fears not death such as I. But there is one defining difference between he and I...I think he may have turned to Bane for an answer. I came to Norwick to find the Purpose of My answer. The question...Why am I here?
I was just fine living with Ghezriel, in our temple, our shelter, our home.
MY nights and days are mixed together. I often go on Hunts with people I've met in the town. Feels good to get fresh forest air again. Some may take life a bit too seriously, always casting orders to better ones self in Battle. Eh, you win some you lose some.
I am aware that life, the few chances we're given are to be cherrished. But if one draws a weapon against his enemy, he better had be prepared to have one used against him. Just my philosophy I s'pose.
I often wonder if the Goblins have wives, mothers or fathers that wait for them to return from collecting wood, or gathering rabbits. We stroll in, thinking we're cleansing the area for the good of the people, when really, we're making widows, and son-less fathers and mothers. Ripping apart families, tearing open once wild dreams with the Blade of our swords. I hope I'm wrong. I hope that they are just savage beasts. Tempus be praised!
(at the bottom of the parchment, he has drawn a crude rendition of the Symboic Sword and Shield of Tempus)_
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Please forgive the manner in which this is written, for I am not a scribe, but a Legionnaire.
_I awoke on a normal, dreary rainy day in the Norwick Inn where I spent most of my nights. My chain suit, lay right on the table where I left it. My pack, sword, everything I owned was there, in that room above the tavern where I'd left it. I smiled. I smile more often. The people here are my curse, and my blessing.
Went on a hunt, a normal everyday occasion. This time, with a few people I've just met. A large Orc man named Pugor, a pretty young woman, Karessa, and an archer named Kabul. The four of us headed south.
South of Norwick, is cursed. Ruins now lay where I'm told the Old city of Norwick once was. The leveled city is now populated by the walking dead. These…foul beings are another reason we do not go out alone. Some move fast, come out of the fog to be standing right beside you, and heave a semi-transperant arm holding a rusty dagger your way. They can be slain simple enough. There are however, dead men that roam the land. They aren't very fast, not carry weapons. They're just blood-thirsty, flesh-hungered monsters. I was bitten by one, gave me the shakes and I felt weak for some time, but it went away.
The four of us moved from the cursed ruins south, then west around a lake. We ventured from goblins, to what they call Hob Goblins, or Orc Goblins as they're called in Ghorimir. They are tougher here, than in Gorimir. Pugor, a Private in the Royal Troff Legion led the hunt with Kabul, a veteran archer at the back. Karessa and myself stay in the middle, firing off bolts towards to enemy, if Pugor left them standing long enough. We wondered about, fighting, looting, learning. I often thought myself as a decent swordsman, Pugor sees potential, Kabul was kind and skilled. Karessa and I hadn't spoken much. I think I was shy.
We came upon a dark, forested area. More Hob Goblins lay awaiting, this time, with stronger kin. In my exploits with Hob Goblins, I've seen few cast magick, most are warriors such as myself armed with a sword and soemtimes chain armor. This new forest. Was the reason I believe Tempus had sent me.
We came across the path of a HObGoblin Warlock, a caster of dark magicks. He hit Pugor whilest the remaining few of us would shoot arrows and bolts trying the down the beast before it did any damage to the Brave Orc. We came across a bend in the path. We hadn't been hasty, checking most of our corners, tactical protocol. More Warlocks and Battle ragers. Kabul mostly took the first shot. He made them count. The ones that made it to Pugor were already kissed by the sharp lips of Kabuls arrows, and didn't put much of a fight.
He shot. The arrow killing one on impact. The other, the caster did not bother to send a simple bolt of lightning, or cast a ball of fire. No. He summoned a beast. Known only as Hulk.
This Hulk made Pugor look man sized. I along with Kabul and Karessa fired rapidly at the monstrosity. Our attempts were futile. Pugor Kept it's attention, beating on it with his valiant Battle Axe, chipping away at it's hard shell exterior. Kabul's near perfect aim would strike at the beasts inner skin, causing it to enter a rage and attack everything near it. When Pugor would get hit, I would step in the take the beating. Don't ask me why to this day. I didn't know him, or any of them. Why wouldn't I just run. I couldn't. These people, these strangers made my stay here in Norwick more plentiful with smiles and laughter than any day in the last...almost 20 years. Pugor Jumped back in, his axe, controlled yet subtle. Making it's way toward the Hulk with intent to kill. Pugor swung, the Hulk swung back. Pugor was hit hard, just as an arrow from Kabul struck it in the neck. The beast turned from Pugor to Kabul, who was wearing lighter armor than me. In a flash, all of my previous Legion training had come to me. Honor in Duty, protect those who may not be of able mind, or body. I felt the need to protect. I lept into the pathway of the Hulk, the destroyer, the life ender.
It came at me relentlessly. No emotions in it's black eyes...no care for any living being. I don't know if it was hungry, or its warlock master had ordered it to kill. I dashed forward with my blade in hand, shield in the other. The Hulk hadn't stopped in fear of me, It had no fear, nor did I.
I swung my bastard sword with a backhand swing, one I could quickly counter with a shield block. My attempts, were futile. It flung it's gigantic hand at me, bashing my shield into my head, causing my eyes to water, and nose to bleed. I was hoping for a quick retreat from the Hulk, maybe knowing that with Pugor not at it's attention, Kabul and Karessa backing away from the Charging Beast, and me, obviously not a threat. No. It swung for a second time. I tried to Parry with my sword, but to no reward. The blade was hit with such force, that my hands couldn't keep a grip and it flew a few feet away. I remember seeing the final blow, not much of feeling it.
I awoke, in a place I wish not to return.
I was in Deaths Palace. It was cold, un-welcoming as some see death to be. I sat, on a stone bench, waiting for Tempus to call my name.
I had figured, I came, I saw, I died. Tempus' task for me must've been completed. Boy how wrong I was.I came to at the Chauntea Temple, Norwick. Pugor, Kabul, and Karessa standing over my nude body. They had stripped my body, as if I wasn't heavy enough. They, all three had killed the Beast. I know not if my actions of sacrifice had helped, or was just an unfortunate death that sometimes comes from battle. Either way, my head was hurting.
They had told me of what happened, they killed the Hulk, carried my body almost a days travel, I still have yet to get my sparkling potion back...
Pugor and I spoke for sometime after that. We talked about the Legion, he spoke highly of my skills, thought I was Legion material. It's been so long since I've had a title. The ones I've had brought pain and anger. I wished not to have one. But, Pugor had mentioned my name to a Sergeant in the Legion, Yngdir. A creeper if ye ask me, but he's wise, and quite handy in battle. Yngdir, asked me if I wished to be a Legionnaire. My response was emotional. Perhaps not to the outside of my personal shell, but on the interior walls of who I call Alidor, an explosion of fear, anger, wothlessness. I hadn't wanted a title. Recruit, is a title. After what seemed like a day, only a few seconds I soon came to notice, I told Yngdir, Aye.
My lust for acceptance had been fulfilled. My anxiety for the past, had gone, and a new hope for the future has came. I bought myself a new shield, a nice big one, and a helm...helps me keep the noise to a minimum while fighting. These items are not who I am.
The title is not who I am, for I am Alidor, Son of Ghorimir, Legionnaire._