Let There Be Light!

[The Lion 736]

From the journal of an unknown source

((The writings that follow are not up for in-character response unless stated otherwise. You may post IC if you know something related to this ICly. This is a mere collection of stories surrounding a gathering for a common purpose. This is journal is purely for the reader's entertainment.))

 

 

Preface: I start this chronicle on the 19th of the Deep Cold, 1451. Whispered tales of an order founded in light have emerged within our realm. Upon investigation of these rumors I stumbled across the conclusion of a meeting held at midday between three men in similar garb. Perhaps by chance they gathered under the brilliant gaze of the sun's rays in an clearing. As not to reveal myself I retreated back into the enchanted forest and wondered on what I'd witnessed. Their purpose is unclear, their mission is a mystery. I shall keep tabs on these disciples of the sun, soon I feel their intent will become clear to us all.

[ToenailTickler 290]

Korvak feels something rise in him. Then he shouts:

Other than that he has no idea what is going on.

[Serf 647]

[Swgrclan 2682]

A fervously religious crusader rushes into an undisclosed Elven settlement, gripping a nearby child.

[Quavinir_Twiceborn 1050]

*Quavinir shudders - if such an order targeted him... And with his albino complexion...

*Quavinir grabs his sunscreen.

[The Lion 736]

Shanghaied!

((I understand the term has to do with boats, don't.))

 

Memorandum #1: 20th of the Deep Cold, 1451. I had returned to the sun filled grove the following day to see if I could catch another glimpse of the perplexing paladins. Little did I know they too were waiting for me, how could I have been so foolish as to think they didn’t notice me yesterday? As I poked my head over the crown of the rock I hid behind I was grabbed, bagged, and bound before I could squeal. Bewildered and dazed, all I heard were the commanding words of a deep gravely voice, “Are you a slave of Setherien?” I responded in a hasty manner, uncertain of my fate. Unfortunately my response was not well received and the next thing I heard was the sharp ringing of a blade being drawn, the point of which came to rest on my collar. “I will not ask again.” the same voice asserted. It seemed like an eternity before I was able to muster an answer, with conviction in my soul I swore that I was not an enemy. This seemed to satisfy the voice, the cold point withdrew from my body. “What is the meaning of this recording? Are you a spy?” asked the voice, I informed the voice that I was simple scribe intrigued by their meeting yesterday hoping to find out more today. The bag was lifted from my head, the sun blinded me for a moment as the figures came into focus, I was surrounded with drawn swords.

 

“Today is your lucky, bub. You may join us or die.” Stated the center figure whom carried my journal in his large metal hand. Dumbstruck I said what any normal man fearing a solid threat would. So here I am, traveling with a band of men who I can’t put a face to, studying and observing their doings. The voice of the group informed me my writings are history in the making. I just hope no one misses me.

[The Lion 736]

Hide All Ye Sinners

 

Memorandum #2: 20th of the Deep Cold, 1451. We had walked for the remainder of the day in a direction I had never ventured towards before. The men were uncharistically jolly as we walked, a stark contrast from my introduction. They sang songs and played simple stringed instruments as we walked, sometimes breaking into hymns about “Sol”. Below are a few lyrics I can remember as we traveled:

 

Stand in front of life’s bane,

Just to feel alive again.

Pushing onward through a sleepless night,

Aching just to feel Sol’s light.

Let the light warm your skin,

Tomorrow we begin.

 

We will come and strike them down.

Slit their throats without a soun(d).

 

Hide away!

Hide away!

Hide away!

 

Those who don’t, we will prey.

 

Pushing onward through a sleepless night,

Aching just feel Sol’s light.

 

Hide away!

Hide away!

Hide away!

 

Those who don’t, we will prey.

 

As their words engulfed my senses, putting me in a trance like state, it took me a moment to realize we had reached their camp. Even more men all dressed the same slaved over forges, fletched arrows, and trained viciously against one another with real blades. They were preparing for something big. Within moments and not even time enough ask I was provided food, tent and left my own devices. What will tomorrow bring?

[The Lion 736]

 

A Day In The Life

 

  Memorandum #3:   21st of The Deep Cold, 1451. I awoke to heavy commotion before the sun had even risen. The camp was alive with marching boots and drill sergeants shouting in recruit’s faces. They were doing much of the same preparation I had witnessed yesterday. A single man stood on a higher elevation watching the men go about their business. No one paid any mind to me so I sat and amused myself with my writings for the duration of the morning. A triangle was rung and a soldier in an apron stepped out from a large tent hollering, “Get your fill, sooooul-jaahs!” The soldiers dropped what they were doing and rushed over to satisfy themselves with fresh made porridge and some soup from the night before. I was offered my ration and gave my thanks, food had not even crossed my mind until that moment. I realized my stomach was growling for food and devoured the meal, returning to my work as the soldiers did. The lone overseer retreated into the center tent and poured over a map with his colleagues, it was at this point that I caught a soldier with his helmet off.

 

Have you ever been walking down the road and you make a wrong turn and like clockwork you’re surrounded by armored cutthroats? So what do you do?. . . Something very silly, you freeze and your life doesn't flash before your eyes because you’re too shocked to think. You just freeze and pull a stupid face. That’s all I could do as the soldier was yanked back and smashed in the face with a smith's hammer. I expected an outburst from the beaten soldier, but he just stood up, returned his helmet to his head and carried on with his job, not one word.

 

It will take some time to get used to the strict discipline I witness around here, the voice who greeted me yesterday is called the Patriarch by his men, I believe him to be the leader. The Patriarch consorts with his Captains who move the words along the chain of command. The Patriarch of this brotherhood informed me that his men understand their punishment fully and their compliance is acknowledgement of their wrong doing. He says strong discipline makes strong soldiers. For whatever their gearing up for, I can only hope so, after all it’s my hide on the line for their actions now.

 

[The Lion 736]

Let there be light!

 

 

Memorandum #4: 16th of the Amber Cold, 1452. The dredge of darkness, the keepers of the light. I have come to call these disciples such names. At dawn on the sixteenth day of this season as the sun peaked over the horizon onto the abandon keep of Ac'talarah so followed a band of iron clad men with it. Wielding weapons forged in Sol's grace they came cloaked in obscurity. Within moments the front gate received a powerful blasts from a loyal disciple, melting the iron into a puddle and blasting the stone into dust. They stormed in shouting, “For the red and gold!” as they cleared out each room and hallway. In moments they were met by a beast filled with cruelty and malice. The soldiers of Sol did battle with the necromancer, taking blows of dark energy and sending back steel and magical mist. They bested the creature, absolving him of his evil and sending him to meet his maker. They cleared out the rest of the keep until none were left to oppose their crusade. They emerged victorious, raising the flag of their order high over Ac’talarah. Christening the keep with their light, darkness fled from the halls, a new era had begun. The sun rises in the west this day.

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.