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 Journal of the Whyte Knight of Varisia

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Whyte
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Whyte

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PostSubject: Journal of the Whyte Knight of Varisia   Wed Jun 02, 2010 8:33 pm

The journal appears to be writin in Elven.


4026-1-10 AR
Silent Knight.


4026-1-22 AR
Why is it I know so little about my mother. Father always was tight lipped about her. It was clear he loved her, but who was she? She was a slave I know that and also that she was an elf. All the Old Man ever told me was “she was meant to run free.” Did her buy her himself? We have never been what would be referred to as wealthy. How in the hells could he have afforded her? I wish I had been set “free” with her. I guess a mutt didn’t fit with her idea of freedom.

Thank you Mother

Thank you for leaving me in the hell that is Korvosa.

Thank you for leaving an old drunk behind to raise a half-breed son.

Thank you for leaving me at the mercy of the filth that call themselves “noble”.

Thank you for leaving me with one eye, an ear and no voice…


4026-1-30 AR
I miss you Old Man



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Last edited by Whyte on Fri Jun 04, 2010 12:49 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: Journal of the Whyte Knight of Varisia   Fri Jun 04, 2010 9:17 pm

4026-2-08 AR


I managed to save your tankard Old Man. Tankard is hardly a name fitting for this jewel of a holy symbol. Praise be Cayden Cailean! Its simple in craft but hardly what one would call plain. I had my first drink tonight. Fitting that it would be from your cup. I’m not all to sure I care for the taste of it.

I didn’t want to believe the officers of the company when they said you where drunk when you died in battle Father. I know that was the ONLY time you where actually sober. You said one had to have their wits about them in battle. It’s when you returned home that the drinking would begin. In excess. I hope it helped cover the horrors you saw in the field. I hope it mended your broken heart.

I doubt it.

But when they kept at it mocking you, your memory, your bravery...
I snapped. Not a good thing for a half-breed stable boy to do. Before i knew it my hands where at one officer’s throats. It took 4 of them to tare me away. I hope the bastard still has the marks of my hands around his "noble" neck. Eventually I lost the fight. They held me down. Two of them had to sit on top of me. The one i choked decided that i would be a lesson to any other half-breed that would dare touch one of Noble birth!

He started with my left ear removing its fine elven point. Again on the right he took away a part of my mothers heritage. The slig-lick tossed the points down into the dirt next to my head. He took my tongue next. I’ll never sleep again without the memory of it removal; sharp and terrifying in my mind. He made damn sure he dangled its raw blood shape in front of my eyes. Eyes. He left them for last. I suppose he must have left them for last so I could see the things he was taking from me. You always said I had my mother’s eyes.

I guess that’s when I blacked out. When I woke all was black. All was pain. I could hear the flies buzzing around my mutilated head but i couldn't open my eyes. My mothers eyes...




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PostSubject: Re: Journal of the Whyte Knight of Varisia   Sun Jun 13, 2010 9:42 am

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PostSubject: Re: Journal of the Whyte Knight of Varisia   Sun Jun 13, 2010 9:43 am

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PostSubject: Re: Journal of the Whyte Knight of Varisia   Tue Jun 15, 2010 7:08 pm

4026-2-12
I met my first elf today father. He was surrounded by what I thought where bandits. I kept my distance at first. I didn’t know who I should help. I’ll admit I didn’t care for the odds against the flower eater, but I still harbor so much hate for that half of my own blood that I almost let them have him. When I heard the moans from the “bandits” my mind was made up for me. Undead. Turns out it was an eve for firsts. I launched myself into the melee, hardly believing that I was helping an elf. Turns out he’s not so bad with a sword and together we made short work of the group. Hells! Undead and elves in the same day.


4026-2-15
I’ve been traveling along with the elf for three days now. Following him is more like it. But with undead on the roads it’s much safer not to travel alone. I really don’t know what to think of him. He surely does like to talk! I wonder how he would feel about his traveling partner if he knew I stood over his sleeping form during my watch, sword in hand, not knowing if I would kill him. Despite myself im starting to like him. Barely.


4026-2-19
He knows my name now. I’ve never had one before but I think that this is what having a friend is like. Maybe not all elves are bad as Mother. Maybe?





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PostSubject: Re: Journal of the Whyte Knight of Varisia   Wed Jun 16, 2010 2:54 pm

4026-2-22
This elf is a priest. Damned glad I didn’t kill a holy man of travelers. Every road would be cursed to me, every inn an unwelcome place. Did you stay my hand Old Man? Do you watch over me as I watched over you? Perhaps in death you can become more of a father than you where in life.

4026-2-25
I still am unsure how we survived. One moment the streets of the town where clear, the next every door, gutter and window poured with the undead. Tides of them, unending. Hack down three, four more replace them. Antameus, I now count him as friend, is truly gifted by his goddess. Waves of divine light surrounded us as we fought our way down the streets, healing our wounds while destroying the undead that got to close. The two of us along with two other survivors fought the horde as we moved slowly toward the stables. The goddesses luck was with us again this day. Horses. Alive! I did what you taught me to do with a frightened animal, calming them just enough to get saddles on them. We rode like lighting away from the village, the constant moaning drone falling away behind us.

4026-2-26
This horse has spirit! I’m already fond of him. I’ve begun training him to take proper commands from a rider. The training, the smells, my thoughts drift to you, of Sable Company. Gustovan will be his name I’ve decided. Not quit the Hippogriff you rode Father, but fine enough a mount for me. My mule seems not to like him much.



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PostSubject: Re: Journal of the Whyte Knight of Varisia   Fri Jul 16, 2010 2:20 pm

4026-3-1

I dreamt of meeting her last night. Enoona. A nightmare? Perhaps. She did ‘save me’.

All was black. I could hear the buzz of flies and feel them crawling on my butchered face. I was back in the ally where the Officers had dumped my mutilated body. Thru the din of buzzing I heard a song, a beautiful voice singing a lullaby. I’m still amazed I was able to pay attention to anything while I was in such pain and agony. The song grew louder and as she approached I realized she wasn’t alone.

“Tsk, tsk” she had said, the song stoppiong abruptly, “such a waste.”
“What do we have here Harven?” she asked.
“A pathetic lump mistress.” a male voice responded as he poked my raw ear with the toe of his boot.
“Oh, come now Harven! Think you daft aurochs! You know what I see? Raw potential. Have you ever seen a sight more in need of vengeance than this one Harven? One more in need of The Unquenchable Fire?” she asked.
"Bring him!" she commanded.

The pain became unbearable as I was lifted from the filth of that back ally. I blacked out again.


That is when I awoke. I’m still not sure how I feel about the Priestess prostitute know to me as Enoona. While she showed much kindness in restoring me she also said that I would remain scarred. She did it so I would remember what I had lost. So that every time I saw my refection my lust for vengeance would be rekindled. So that every gasp, every stare of strangers would fan those flames!


This was the "caring" hand that nursed me back to health.



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