I write this now as an injury-induced commentary. I have been healed, yet I am tired and my body aches deeply. Bones creak under my weary muscles, and I can feel blood pulsing in broken veins under my skin.

We did recover the idol for Kadar as he instructed. It was some kind of heathen idol that Kadar was studying, and I did not recognize it further. The building in Vokor was filled with dust and ancient destruction, though I did find some old manuscripts that Father Lorne may be interested in.

But the job was of little concern.

As we left that place and began our journey back to Vallaki, we were accosted by a gang of thieves who quickly attacked us after threatening Kadar with violence if he did not turn over his obviously lavish weapon.

We defended ourselves, and though I did not want to kill them, they did die. They did not leave this world without inflicting significant harm on myself and Reynard, though we will heal. I said Good Words for their spirits, and we returned to the town solemnly. After watching so much death in Vokor, I felt numb to further bloodshed.

I packed their items – padded armor, crossbows, a bag of gold, a feathered hat and some personal effects – and was about to send it to a family in town that may have been related to one of the attackers.

However, I learned of a young girl that had only been delivered to our Orphanage when her father didn’t return from work on the South Road. Instead of sending the items and gold to a possibly distant relation, I saved them for this girl who is surely the daughter of one of the slain men.

While this is of no consolation, I hope that one day she will forgive me, though I could never blame her if all she felt for me was rage.

• Charsen, servant of the Morninglord
  • Charsen’s Journal: Index

Index: Feb-6-08