(Old Tongue):
Former cleric of the third order in the service of Palor, Augustus Legiano Radev. Now in the service of the goddess Cytherean.
As we sit waiting out the sandstorm rage outside. I find I have nothing to do but ponder on what has brought me to this point. I use to know my purpose.. at least I thought I did. This is the reason I’m starting this work. To understand my own hubris, I think will help to begin healing the scars on my mind and soul. If it does not maybe another who reads it may learn from my failings. So they may not make the mistakes I have so grievously had to learn from. For I thought I understood the world, and it’s nuances through nothing but books. As scholars we seek greater understanding through study, and to perfect that knowledge into greater meaning. I was so arrogant to believe that what I had studied to be the lone and pure truth. How could I be so wrong?
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(Ancient Common):
The house of Radev,”Pro terris et populum eius”
There was a time when I was proud to call myself a Radev. The histories I had read told of their great valor and deed in service of the land. I remember little of my life before the abbey now, thought what I can remember were happy times. At the age of five I taken by a mysterious wasting illness. I was sent to the Lucis Veritas Abbey, for deep restorative healing and care. It was there I spent the next eighteen years growing and learning from my mentor, the renown abbot Raylond Lightholme. After three years behind those hallowed walls the illness lifted from me. The abbot took me into his tutelage in reluctance, helping to shape my young mind. Showing me the world of knowledge to be found if only you are willing to open your mind. In this fashion the next thirteen years of my life was spent. I learned to share in the power of the sun god Palor, and how the truth of knowledge was a light we must put forth into the world.
In my twenty-third year after much conjouling, with the help of sister Agnes, I convinced the abbot to allow me to leave the abbey. Though I had loved my time there ,I wished nothing more then to see the world beyond those walls. I longed to experience the world I had read of in my studies. In hind sight I wish I had never left the protection of those hallowed halls.
In our first journey to Drom’Rovar, I thought I was but returning home. I scarcely thought of anything but seeing the family I had been long separated from. Wishing to learn more of the family I had only vague memories of. In stead of the the warm embrace I expected, I was greeted by the clap of cold iron on my wrists. Brought before the king and imprisoned to await an inquisitor’s interrogation. It was once the inquisitor showed me my own certificate of death, a forgery of the abbot’s own hand, that I understood to them I was long dead. A remnant of a betrayal they had stricken form the records.
The plot had been one of guile, my father and brother seeking the power of the thrown. Rallying other lords and ladies to their side by blackmail and trickery. In the end the plot was revealed to the crown by my twin sister Gretchen. For their crimes my father and brother were publicly executed and my mother banished for her knowledge of the coup. Why would my family so long loyal to the land and her crown betray them so easy? Was the lust for power so blinding, they could not see removing it’s rightful king could weaken the kingdom?
I was once proud to call myself Radev, but now that names only means ruin. I was summarily striped of my rank in the church and excommunicated for the ‘sins of my father’. In the abbot’s last message he wrote this- “ Know that you are precious to me, closer to a son then I ever thought to have. I have seen you grow in knowledge and in strength of your faith. Do not lose this resolve, do not allow the short sightedness of men to control your destiny. It saddens my heart to have to tell you what you must by now know. You may not return to the abbey, for these halls belong to the followers of Palor. Your light will be missed here, but it heartens me to know that that light will be shared with the world.” I had lost two families by my fathers hand. One by blood, and the other I had gained without ever realizing it.
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New entry(Tarren):
I awoke drenched in a cold sweat. As I dried in the dark I could still feel the marks he left, the scars that would be with me the rest of my days. Damn these caverns I’ve woken twice now waiting for my captors voice “come rutting toy let us see what we can learn today”. I remember how broken I felt…how alone. The first session started civilly enough he spoke calmly. Telling me he want information from me, and once that was done with I would be his. I told him I was a freeman and that I’d rather die then be his slave, he laughed then a hollow mirthless laugh. “You will wish death before I am finished with you cleric”. Then with no seeming cause or ceremony he was on top of me ripping away my clothes. And…and he was inside me. He said he had to show me he was in control, the bestial nature showing as he began to transform. He finished his rutting and he was gone.
New entry(Ignan):
I lay sobbing in the dark. Feeling the tears running down my cheeks, the blood seeping down my thigh. I could only ponder, and pity my own weakness. I must have fallen unconscious, because when I awoke he was sitting there, a beast in the guise of a human. “So, did my mate sleep well?” he sneered. I stuck out at him, he caught my hands deftly. “Such spirit cleric this shall be FUN!!!” he slammed me to the wall.Though reeling from the blow I struggled in vain as he bound my hands there. “Now my mate, my employer wishes information he says only you possess, and you will give me this information for you are beholden to me, understood?” I spit in his face, and made to kick him. He caught me leg and caressed it and threw me again into the wall, binding my feet as I recovered. “I would expect no less from one I take as my mate very good cleric. Your spirit shall be fun to break”. He gently caressed my body, " you are like unblemished canvas, I shall make you my master piece cleric." The deathly calm in his voice scares me. I try not to shiver at his closeness, " will show you the glorious pain we all long for," he whispers in my ear. I can fell is finger start to grow and lengthen along my side, the claws beginning to tear at my flesh. I feel the nails begin to work there way beneath my flesh. I began to scream, he clasps his hand around my mouth and makes soft cooing noise in my ear as if trying to calm a frighten child. “Now now save those for the real pain,” he cooed. I can feel his claws as they enter me, I can fell the fresh gush of blood as I seeps form my back. He was a frenzy of motion, the blood seeming to entice his beast. He flips me to face to wall lapping and smearing the blood all over my buttocks. He forces his entrance once more, I screamed with ever once of breath I had. The pain was white hot, it hurts so much more then the first time. The blood lubricating his motion, he drives so deep into me the pain excruciating. I pass out, this time when I wake I find my self in a bed. My wrists and ankles bound to the frame, he spoons and caresses me like we are lovers. My wounds no longer bleeding, they have been dressed. He whispers in my ear, “this is only the beginning I have so many more wonders to show you.” As I begin to look around the room I see were I am, a torture chamber. Rusted spikes adorn the walls, bones of ancient dead liter the floor. Some implements it have read about and I know their function, others are very strange and I can not even fathom. I can feel his breath on my neck, and in an inhuman growl, “Your plight is only beginning my mate. Only the first day has passed and there will be more, many many more”-’In darkness there is a glint of the stars, in sorrow solace, in defeat knowledge, and in sacrifice true peace."- Book of Palor: prayer 62 line 15 verse 3
New entry(infernal):
When I awaken I am alone. The darkness here is total and complete, as if no light may enter or leave. Why was I chosen? Because I am weak? Because I am different? Or is there darker reason, did he sense something kindred in my soul? It is said all beings are made of both dark and light, and if only light do you see then only darkness may lay underneath. As I lay in the dark I think of Vanth, he would be comfortable here darkness and shadow is his element. I try and draw the memory of my companions strength into myself, but I find myself wanton. I know I am disfigured I can feel the new scares on my body. It is not the physical scares that worry me. The despair takes me to dark places, my friends rescue the only thing that offers a light to me. When my captor tells me my friends have run back to Iridia. I do not believe him, though I hear no lie on his tongue. He shows me a scrying, I check and double check the formulas in the dim light. I check for false hoods, any proof I have not been abandoned here. None show, I hear only malice and a victorious tone, “you see my mate only I have the power to save you. You are mine cleric until the day you die you are my mate.” I feel the first licks of real fear, as the panic sets in I do not even notice as he disrobes. I do not fight him my body is in shock. I cry again this time not from the pain, but from despair. I can feel my hope begin to wane, feeling as though it might snap. He roughly pulls me back by my hair, " YOU ARE MINE!!!" and in a joyful whisper, " now and always, our bond shall only be broken by your death my mate." he sinks his fangs into my neck, I allow myself to fall into blissful unconsciousness. It was like the world was falling away from me, but it no longer even mattered.- “Fear the man with nothing to lose, desperation is a tool only he may find the use for.”- Dromer musings
New entry (Ancient common):
Time lost all meaning for me, in that dank pit. I’ve come to find out I was there but thirty days. It felt like a life time, like it would be all I would ever know until my dying day. My dreams were always troubled, often I would see my companions slain be for me killed by my captors hand. Sometimes there were barely clinging to life only to be out of my reach. These specters of dream began to follow me into the waking world. They would watch my sessions, sneering through they’re mangled visages. Seeming to enjoy my pain, telling me I had failed them and this was justice for my failure. They’re words began to infect my mind I had failed my companions, I had failed my goddess, and I had failed myself. I felt like I didn’t serve the life the goddess had bestowed upon me, I was unworthy the claim each breath I took. I woke on each session I would pray to the goddess begging her forgiveness, I was to weak to serve her divine purpose for me. I woke wish nothing more then to have had a cowards death, dying there in my sleep, to be forgotten with the rest of the ancient dead of that cursed kingdom. I wished over and over again my captor would make a mistake, this time he would pierce something vital. I hoped every time he violated me that his might lose himself in blood frenzy, that those claws might finally rip out my throat. But the death’s mercy never came.-“In the prisons of our mind, only death may bring us solace. A solace from which we may never draw joy or true peace”- Sonnets of the Mad Bard
New entry(Old tongue):
I awoke in what my captor has now dubbed our “marriage bed”. He is turned away form me crying. For the life of me I still do not understand why, but I turned over as best I could and began comforting him. I nestle into his back and make calming noises. “Why wouldn’t you be mine? Why wouldn’t you change for me?” At first I don’t understand what he means, but then realization comes. He is a lycanthrop, surely if I were bestowed his curse I should have been changed by now. The goddess’s protection does not wane, she has not abandoned me. Suddenly he is on top of me “Why cleric? TELL ME!!!” ,he screams. I can not help but smile he has not plumbed all of my secrets, “You will be punished for this!!! You are mine, you belong to me!!!” The beating is more sever then usual, I fall unconscious. When I awake I am lashed to a pitched metal table. I hear his voice behind me, “I have been gentle with you up until now cleric. Now you will answer all my questions or I shall show you the true meaning of pain.” the anger in his voice unmistakeable. I am there for what feels like days, not allowed to sleep. My lips parched, I can feel the blood run from many slashes in my body. I dryly sob for I have no tears left to shed. The information I have given him it is dangerous in the wrong hands. I could not with stand though I am weak.. the pain so excruciating… I would do anything to stop it. “fight back, where has your spirit gone now cleric? You are so weak.” He spits on me “Why did I ever think you where strong enough to be my mate? Not smiling now are you? You will die here cleric do you know that? I will leave your corpse just well enough so you might join my employers minions.” He smiles wickedly, letting out a hallow laugh. “Well are you ready? Have you said your final prayers cleric?” I have resigned myself to my fate, it must show in my face. He lifts my chin to stare into his eyes, “Will you die like a stuck piglet cleric? Or like a man? If you wish to die with some dignity then FIGHT BACK!!!” He strikes me hard across the face, I shudder. He is in full bestial aspect now. I stand no chance against him not bound, not in this state. He sniffs the air “It seems as if he have company my pet.” He punches my across my temple blackness begins to fill my vision. I feel a blade at my throat before the blackness takes hold. When I next woke I felt liquid being poured down my throat. At first when I opened my eyes I thought the specters had come to torment me once more. Braum’s gleaming visage peered down at me, and when I reached for him I could feel him. My companions surrounded me as I lay cradled in Braum’s arms.
Final entry(battle tongue):
What is light? Is it simply the counter to darkness or is there greater meaning in it’s form and function? Is it meant to conceal the truth in the shadow’s it creates? I feel as shadow now hold only form but no substance. In the aftermath of the battle with the fallen king and the litch Milton Fine. I do what my training has taught me I care for the wounds of the flesh of my companions, but it brings not the comfort it once did. Once doing these simple acts brought me joy. Not from the gratitude but from the joy I brought too others with a kind touch and a gentle word to easy the pain. How can they stand my touch now? I am filthy, unworthy to even bestow my goddess’s gifts on them. Yet I still make sure they are tended to, that they are fed and will rest to heal their wounds. The actions more like numb rote. I hide myself away in the ancient libraries of this once doomed place, to perform the necessary research. Even this does not bring it’s normal numbing comforts. Maybe I deserved none, I had betrayed them. Finding the needed information I share it with my companions, though I am too late. I begin to think that maybe it is this unhallowed place that is allowing this discomfort to linger. Using the ancient throne I begin the purification of the land. The miasma still hangs over me. Why can I not fix myself? Why can I not just forget? Why am I not strong enough to deal with this pain?
I commune with my goddess, her light feels warm and true. Hearing the sorrow in her voice brings tears to my eyes. It is not her failings, but mine that bring on greater sorrow. To hear the tender tone of her voice, that I know is meant as love does not warm me. For I am no longer sure
if I truly understand what ‘love’ means anymore.
Braum’s promise of protection nearly breaks my heart. How can he want to protect me? I had betrayed his friends secrets. How can he know I will not do it all over again? I am weak, I had failed them in so many ways. The awakening of the Crimson Mother, Zander’s demise, and even Braum’s capture. All things I could have prevented had I not been so foolish, so prideful in what I presumed to be an understanding of the world around me.
I had hoped the writing of this might bring catharsis. In it however I only find pain and more sorrow then I have a right to feel. I must be stronger for my goddess and for my companions. I must not allow my pain to effect their quality of life in this desolate place. I must bare this burden, for it is mine and no other should have to feel it’s sting. I will do as I have been trained. I will bring glory to my goddess, and hope that these feelings will fade. I shall rebuild my goddess’s temple to the south of the wastes, and hope I may find solace in that place. For this is all I know how to be, an instrument of my goddess’s will, no more and no less.
-“What a fool is man to think he may define the heavens. When greater beings, with but a whim, may change their world. Or even existence itself.”-ALR
