Re.LR.0 Venia 40
The regency has finally been approved, we have a new leader. We've had our worries, for weeks now, that the Lord Regent is in terrible danger, even before today's announcement - and we have no idea where this threat comes from.
I shall check our own ranks, traitors abound in this realm.
Aldae's mother is still a permanent resident in the dungeon - and still raving mad. It seems that she has finally come to the realisation that she killed her own son. She mourns, I am told. Hypocritical bitch. Whoever she works for is trying to plunge our realm into anarchy. We can only assume it is the Raevans' doing, however they are unusually silent.
There is a chance that a third player has joined the game.
Saturday, 30 July 2011
Custodes Sanguis II
Al.II.22 Venia 14
It's taken much longer than anticipated to gather the men I needed, but it is done. I have men loyal to our cause, right from the day they took their oaths - though none knew it.
Every one of us is sworn to protect the realm, not the ruler. We are now guardians of the land and its peoples. We are the Keepers of the Blood.
Though history will look at us as traitors, shun us as rebels and instigators, we alone shall know that our actions have saved our land - time after time again. Some will eventually see us for what we were:
Saviours.
It's taken much longer than anticipated to gather the men I needed, but it is done. I have men loyal to our cause, right from the day they took their oaths - though none knew it.
Every one of us is sworn to protect the realm, not the ruler. We are now guardians of the land and its peoples. We are the Keepers of the Blood.
Though history will look at us as traitors, shun us as rebels and instigators, we alone shall know that our actions have saved our land - time after time again. Some will eventually see us for what we were:
Saviours.
Custodes Sanguis
Al.II.22 Hollia 23
The anarchy began when the king was killed by his own mother.
She came into the throne room on Justice day and casually slit his throat in front of all of his bodyguards, men, women and children of his realm.
It was, and still is, our greatest defeat - the worst possible sign of our ability. Laid out bare, for all to see. Our biggest humiliation. Our king, slain by his own mother on our watch. But who could have guessed? Who could have known she was an enemy agent?
That bloodline is corrupted beyond resolution - it is a blight on our lands and must be removed from power, for ever.
The anarchy began when the king was killed by his own mother.
She came into the throne room on Justice day and casually slit his throat in front of all of his bodyguards, men, women and children of his realm.
It was, and still is, our greatest defeat - the worst possible sign of our ability. Laid out bare, for all to see. Our biggest humiliation. Our king, slain by his own mother on our watch. But who could have guessed? Who could have known she was an enemy agent?
That bloodline is corrupted beyond resolution - it is a blight on our lands and must be removed from power, for ever.
Thursday, 28 July 2011
Massacre of the Mountain Temple
The men did their jobs as instructed, to the most precise point in time that can be imagined. Their movements so synchronised you were unsure whether they were separate entities or the same. They wore the same clothes, dyed blacker than the darkest night - their fabric seemed to drink light as it hit, the strangest material to look upon.
As they converged on the building in the centre of the town from all points of the compass rose, they dispatched the men and women they stumbled across with disturbing ease. Each casualty caused by a simple touch on bare flesh, a pinprick of pain and a moment's fright - then they were gone. Tumbled into the ground where they had stood a moment before, following their neighbours into the lands beyond.
Eight black figures, silhouetted against the bright square of the open doorway - the blazing fires from inside providing a blindingly bright opulence of splendour on the rotten earth outside.
As they each stepped into the hall, they came face to face with the first of the resistance. They were waiting for them here, in this ancient room, this sacred hall - in the presence of their god.
Only four were arrayed against the eight, and each of the dark masters were equal to fifty lesser men. There was no pause in the advance, no time for the faithful defenders to prepare against the invaders.
No words exchanged, only stares.
The defenders lashed out with blessed staves as they came, pressing forward with a bare minimum of an advantage. The attackers drew blades from hidden sheaths, barely seen needles of darkness. They moved like a wave across the beach, first forward on the left, retreating on the right for a bare moment before surging forward in a deadly rush to strike down the first of the four.
He died well, smashing his stave through his murderer's eye with his final blow.
The three remaining defenders chanted their farewells to their comrade and prepared for their own final breaths.
As they converged on the building in the centre of the town from all points of the compass rose, they dispatched the men and women they stumbled across with disturbing ease. Each casualty caused by a simple touch on bare flesh, a pinprick of pain and a moment's fright - then they were gone. Tumbled into the ground where they had stood a moment before, following their neighbours into the lands beyond.
Eight black figures, silhouetted against the bright square of the open doorway - the blazing fires from inside providing a blindingly bright opulence of splendour on the rotten earth outside.
As they each stepped into the hall, they came face to face with the first of the resistance. They were waiting for them here, in this ancient room, this sacred hall - in the presence of their god.
Only four were arrayed against the eight, and each of the dark masters were equal to fifty lesser men. There was no pause in the advance, no time for the faithful defenders to prepare against the invaders.
No words exchanged, only stares.
The defenders lashed out with blessed staves as they came, pressing forward with a bare minimum of an advantage. The attackers drew blades from hidden sheaths, barely seen needles of darkness. They moved like a wave across the beach, first forward on the left, retreating on the right for a bare moment before surging forward in a deadly rush to strike down the first of the four.
He died well, smashing his stave through his murderer's eye with his final blow.
The three remaining defenders chanted their farewells to their comrade and prepared for their own final breaths.
Tuesday, 26 July 2011
A rumoured blade in the night
I killed him in his sleep. My blade opened his throat with the barest of a touch - my hand kept his noise to a whisper.
Everything about what I do is a whisper... a shadow... a rumour.
We are rumours, flitting through darkness like people's worst nightmare. Our infamy is our disguise, our weapon, our strength. We steal through crowds, wrapped in the cloak of anonymity and showered in the blessings of regularity. Most men carry blades openly in the streets, we would arouse suspicion if we didn't - it makes our life easy. Some even say too easy.
This latest mark was only a merchant, but higher powers decided that what he did was illegal. They needed him removed from his position. I could have done it any number of ways. I could have ruined his reputation. I could have bribed the right hands to make sure his products became worthless. I could have murdered his family and closest associates, and kept doing so until they got the idea.
I killed him in his sleep.
It's best, this way.
For both of us.
Everything about what I do is a whisper... a shadow... a rumour.
We are rumours, flitting through darkness like people's worst nightmare. Our infamy is our disguise, our weapon, our strength. We steal through crowds, wrapped in the cloak of anonymity and showered in the blessings of regularity. Most men carry blades openly in the streets, we would arouse suspicion if we didn't - it makes our life easy. Some even say too easy.
This latest mark was only a merchant, but higher powers decided that what he did was illegal. They needed him removed from his position. I could have done it any number of ways. I could have ruined his reputation. I could have bribed the right hands to make sure his products became worthless. I could have murdered his family and closest associates, and kept doing so until they got the idea.
I killed him in his sleep.
It's best, this way.
For both of us.
The battle of intelligence
As far as I can ascertain, for the majority of the war both sides maintained and employed huge numbers of espionage agents both domestic and foreign. As these two (of many) notes can demonstrate, the agents were used for many purposes. - Pyrelle
Sir,
Information from in the [Merchant's] guild are reporting that the shipments aren't coming from a single source. This comes from more than one of our men.
Ae
Footmen 5000, north pass Venia 25 - Lae
Sir,
Information from in the [Merchant's] guild are reporting that the shipments aren't coming from a single source. This comes from more than one of our men.
Ae
Footmen 5000, north pass Venia 25 - Lae
Tuesday, 19 July 2011
An absence of reliable reports
Va.II.18
It seems that the following period in the Great War was undocumented, or at least so sparsely documented that none have survived the ravages of time, swallowed up into the void that is forgotten history.
I feel disheartened at the distinct lack of valid manuscript from this period of our past, as it was indeed a very crucial moment.
From what we have remembered in oral tradition and the official timeline, this was the period in which our great leader, Lord Regent Caenar, discovered the enemy to be the Raevan nation; full of warmongering, vicious men and dim-witted, slavish females. Of course this was all rumour, though officially it is true.
Lord Regent Caenar gathered the armies and, with a legitimate reason for doing so, called upon the levies also. With the kingdom protected so fully, he felt justified in sending parties across the massive journey to demand answers from the Raevan government.
Not a soul returned.
- Pyrelle
It seems that the following period in the Great War was undocumented, or at least so sparsely documented that none have survived the ravages of time, swallowed up into the void that is forgotten history.
I feel disheartened at the distinct lack of valid manuscript from this period of our past, as it was indeed a very crucial moment.
From what we have remembered in oral tradition and the official timeline, this was the period in which our great leader, Lord Regent Caenar, discovered the enemy to be the Raevan nation; full of warmongering, vicious men and dim-witted, slavish females. Of course this was all rumour, though officially it is true.
Lord Regent Caenar gathered the armies and, with a legitimate reason for doing so, called upon the levies also. With the kingdom protected so fully, he felt justified in sending parties across the massive journey to demand answers from the Raevan government.
Not a soul returned.
- Pyrelle
Sunday, 17 July 2011
The unknown adversary is the most dangerous adversary
The exact date that this letter was penned is uncertain, but it definitely falls within a few days of the assassination of Lady Sarae I. Also, it is simple to see how the beginning of the War was as confusing as we remember; no one knew where this assassin hailed from within a single day, how were the leaders supposed to know in the following seasons? - Pyrelle
GW0, Ca.LR.1:Aen.1-3
Lady Sarae has been assassinated! We cannot believe it, it seems too unreal. She was supposed to be one of the best Ladies we would have ever had!
Kinna, believe me when I tell you that we could not have seen this coming. We had no warning, no rumour preceded the assassin, and there was no hint of antagonism towards the kingdom for years! He just ambled into our midst and murdered her in her own fortifications – guards surrounding the building. Looking the wrong way.
If only I could go back to that moment, go back to the walls and shout at them to look inwards, not outwards, “The enemy is within! Look to your backs!” If only, dear Kinna. If only.
The methods he employed went totally unnoticed until the very last moment. No one noticed him arrive, no one knows exactly where he came from. The rumour mill has been worked to death in the most recent hours: he’s from the north, he’s from the east, he was born right here in Lord’s Castle!
I am ashamed.
We failed.
I failed.
- Unknown; likely to be a guard, judging by contextual identifiers in the text.
- Unknown; likely to be a guard, judging by contextual identifiers in the text.
Saturday, 16 July 2011
One moment of weakness sparked a century of war
It is clear from this account that on this day the war with Raeve began. I shall continue my search for more informative, and clearer, accounts. - Pyrelle
Great War year 0, Sa.I.1:Aen 1
Sarae was crowned early this morning, as the sun rose from its slumber behind the mountains. She was stunningly beautiful, more so than I had ever seen her before. I watched, though I knew I was forbidden. If you’re reading this, I’m likely in the dungeon.
But her coronation wasn’t the most interesting thing to occur today. I saw a stranger about the castle, he held himself like a highborn – but his rags spoke for themselves. I didn’t get very close to him, but I heard talk in the kitchens too. He was from a distant land, somewhere off to the west, they said. Strange folk... do all of their highborn wear rags, whilst their beggars adore themselves in the best fabrics?
Great War year 0, Sa.I.1:Aen 1
Sarae was crowned early this morning, as the sun rose from its slumber behind the mountains. She was stunningly beautiful, more so than I had ever seen her before. I watched, though I knew I was forbidden. If you’re reading this, I’m likely in the dungeon.
But her coronation wasn’t the most interesting thing to occur today. I saw a stranger about the castle, he held himself like a highborn – but his rags spoke for themselves. I didn’t get very close to him, but I heard talk in the kitchens too. He was from a distant land, somewhere off to the west, they said. Strange folk... do all of their highborn wear rags, whilst their beggars adore themselves in the best fabrics?
Cook also mentioned that he had tried to gain reception with Sarae by walking into the Great Hall itself! It is a mystery how he had gained entry that far without a cry of alarm being raised. Those guards on duty on the perimeter will be punished. Mark my words, that stranger is trouble.
I shall go to Sarae’s room, tomorrow. I wish to speak with her again if onl...
I hear a noise in the corridor. People are shouting. I will go see what is wrong.
They shout... awful things.
They say untruths, they cannot be true. This is not happening. I am asleep. I am asleep and I must awake!
She cannot be dead!
- Unknown
- Unknown
Foreword - Grand Master Scrivener Pyrelle
Va.II.18
It is the eighteenth year of the reign of our king, Lord Vaeryn II. I have been tasked with documenting the Great War, from as many accounts as is possible to find. This great honour will be a long undertaking, a test of my strength, loyalty and sanity before the end - of that I have no doubts.
I have heard it said that only the King himself truly knows what occurred during the horrific events that spanned a full century, told to him by his father - who, in turn, was told by his.
Nevertheless, I will uncover as much of the truth as I can. The King gave his blessing for this project, but asked that he were not asked to ever reveal his secrets; I shall honour him in this request, I will find my sources elsewhere.
Pyrelle
It is the eighteenth year of the reign of our king, Lord Vaeryn II. I have been tasked with documenting the Great War, from as many accounts as is possible to find. This great honour will be a long undertaking, a test of my strength, loyalty and sanity before the end - of that I have no doubts.
I have heard it said that only the King himself truly knows what occurred during the horrific events that spanned a full century, told to him by his father - who, in turn, was told by his.
Nevertheless, I will uncover as much of the truth as I can. The King gave his blessing for this project, but asked that he were not asked to ever reveal his secrets; I shall honour him in this request, I will find my sources elsewhere.
Pyrelle
Introduction
Hello, welcome to the Meandering Story!
This space is for a series of story posts which will all link in a general way, I haven't decided exactly how they'll link. I know that I will be having the freedom of choice for each post over whether I want to use the same character again or not.
I have an interesting idea that I'd like to try, but I don't think a public blog would be the best place to test it out really. In any case, I will be experimenting with characters within the same story. That's one of the main points I guess.
I'll try to keep each post low in word count, to make it easier on the eye and so that each snapshot can be read quickly.
The genre of choice is: Fantasy.
Magic, medieval setting, kings and queens who actually rule, rising levels of technology. That sort of stuff.
This space is for a series of story posts which will all link in a general way, I haven't decided exactly how they'll link. I know that I will be having the freedom of choice for each post over whether I want to use the same character again or not.
I have an interesting idea that I'd like to try, but I don't think a public blog would be the best place to test it out really. In any case, I will be experimenting with characters within the same story. That's one of the main points I guess.
I'll try to keep each post low in word count, to make it easier on the eye and so that each snapshot can be read quickly.
The genre of choice is: Fantasy.
Magic, medieval setting, kings and queens who actually rule, rising levels of technology. That sort of stuff.
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