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Superemo -> The Journal of Final Judgement (10/25/2013 8:59:25)
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"It is said that history is written by the victorious, so let this serve not as history, but as a warning. For there may still be good men and women in this world, and they must not fall prey to the same temptation that befell our champion... our betrayer... our destroyer... and, now, our master... the one known as Final Judgement."
-Written by an undead scribe, who was later slain for a show of sentience.
____________________
June, 2008
I awoke this morning, ready to finally join up with my friends. I was done hanging around Swordhaven all day, minding my mother's sweets shop. It was time I finally did something with my life. So, I finally spent my savings on what I was looking for: a nice dagger, and a lightweight set of armor. I knew that all my alchemy lessons would pay off some day... and that was going to be today. The next time I returned home, I knew they would all be praising my name. Steve, the great monster hunter! Finally, I'd have a chance to learn the ways of the world...
Early July, 2008
It seems strange... I've been at this for only a few days, yet I seem to be lacking that extra "oomph" that makes those warriors so great. Perhaps I'll spend some of the gold I've scraped together on some training... I've always wondered what it'd be like to be a knight. Then again, I'm getting ahead of myself a bit. I'm not a knight yet. Right now, I'm still struggling with a few skeletons. I'm counting myself as the luckiest person in the world that the poisons I've made work just as well against the undead.
Mid July, 2008
I finally did it! I bought a decent sword, a set of steel armor, and I actually found someone willing to train me! I'm on my way to becoming the knight I've always wanted to be! Hahaha! I can't wait to see my mom's face when I come back home with enough gold to buy a castle... Do they sell castles? Or do you have to be a king to get a castle? But if you have to be a king to get a castle, do you need a castle to be a king? So many questions... Ah, well, I'll have time for that later, after I learn how to take down a dragon with one swing of my sword!
Late July, 2008
I'm even better at this "Warrior" thing than I was at sneaking around and stabbing monsters! It looks like I won't be needing that dagger anymore. Or that flimsy armor I bought. I'm sort of sad to see it go, but still, the past is the past. I'm better than I ever was before!
... Yet still, I'm seeing people who are just starting their adventuring careers surpassing me in ways I could only dream of. I need to get stronger. Fast. I've proven time and time again to my mentor that I can effortlessly destroy those slimes he keeps having me fight... When will he finally let me go on a real quest?
Early August, 2008
It's time. He finally said it's time. Apparently, there's a Zardman encampment in the forest just outside of Battleon. I'm to investigate, and, if they're planning an attack, I'm to intervene. This is my first real quest. I know it's not going in to a dragon's lair and fighting for the massive amounts of treasure it surely would hold, but it's still important. If they were to attack, I can't help but think of all those new adventurers who might get killed.
...
I failed him. Which isn't to say I didn't stop the invasion. I thought they were acting in a menacing manner. Those spears... they looked dangerous. I attacked as soon as I saw an opening. I felled at least half a dozen grunts before I saw their chieftain. It's easy to tell who's in charge with the Zardmen... just look for the biggest guy, with the biggest weapon. As I boldly leaped into battle with the monster, he growled with malice. I showed him mercy in the form of a swift defeat... then, he asked me one question... "Why?"
I responded simply, "I saw your planned assault. Your stockpiling of weapons, and your battle formations. You left me no choice. I had to defend my home."
The chieftain replied with a sigh of resignation, and said, "You humans... always so rash... so hateful. We are nomads... hunters, fishers... we tried to settle here... in hopes of trading with Battleon. But we see now... your kind are quick to judge... and quicker still to act."
"But your weapons..."
"Fishing spears... we eat fish, from the river. I'm sure your kind does the same. Mine is the only weapon we possess... a relic, passed down my father's line for as long as our tribe has lived."
"But your warriors attacked me!"
"My people acted in defense of our home. They saw your intrusion, and acted to repel you. They fell in my defense... for as long as I live, our tribe survives."
I stood for a moment in silent contemplation. Had I truly waged a war against the innocent? Had I fallen prey to a need for glory? I thought it possible that, for the first time in my life, I was the monster...
"I am no longer worthy to lead our tribe. I have been bested in combat. My tribe's hammer is now yours, outlander. I only request that you use it in an honorable manner."
I was taken aback at this show of shame. I begged the chieftain to reclaim his place, and his weapon, but he ignored my pleas.
"My son is now the chieftain. I am now merely the elder. Perhaps he will give you the war you crave. The violence you sought."
The gravity of those words sunk in as I returned to my mentor, and told him of how I bested their chieftain in single combat. If only he knew the full story...
Late August, 2008
My training has grown near its conclusion. I'm nearing the end of what my mentor has to teach me about the ways of the warrior. However, he has entrusted my training to a rather strange new host: a town of Horcs. These Horcs are rumored to be the fiercest warriors in the lands, and, in his words, "If you can survive their training, you'll be one of the best warriors to ever pick up a sword." Though I didn't expect the training to include actually finding the place... I wasn't given a map or anything... just a vague set of instructions.
...
This forest is way too big. Seriously. You wouldn't believe the sheer number of spiders, wolves, and zards here. I set up camp what I hope is a day's walk away from the Horc camp... I just hope I'm headed in the right direction. At least I've been smart enough to mark a trail back to Battleon.
Mid September, 2008
It feels like forever since I've had the chance to write. Mostly because of the training regimen the General has me on. I think he's working me up toward fighting him... Like I'd ever stand a chance. Now, I'm sure I've gotten much better at this since I started training with the Horcs, but General Porkon is still way out of my league... Unless...
...
I actually did it. I beat the General! Granted, it took a bit of quick thought, but I still won! I started by knocking him off balance with a few quick jabs, then, when he was defenseless, I put everything I had into the next couple swings. Once he got back up, I took a defensive stance, and worked to just tire him out, until I finally got another chance to knock him down. This time, when he got back up, he took a knee. That was the sign of defeat in all the sparring matches he oversaw.
"Well done, human."
It was the first time I heard legitimate praise from him. And, what's more, it was directed at me.
"Though some may find your tactics crude, or lacking honor, we Horcs know the truth. History is written by the victors. In victory, you prove the strength of your will, and the weakness of your enemy. I offer you this token. Bring it to the one in green. He will understand its significance."
And, with that, he handed me... a rubber duck. I have never in my life been more confused, but trusting the wisdom of the General, I bid the Horc fortress farewell, and made my way back to Battleon.
Late September, 2008
I still have yet to meet this "one in green" Porkon told me of, but my mentor told me to seek out the one person who knows him well enough to arrange a meeting: Warlic, the Blue Mage. I sought his help in his shop in Battleon, only to find him busy. Sensing his time would be better served doing whatever he was doing than talking with me, I returned to the outskirts of town... where I heard whispers of spell tomes for sale, and enchanted robes that would increase the potency of my magic. Initially, I was skeptical. I had always heard it said that the magical arts required years of study to master. However, I had more than enough gold to spare, so I figured that I could risk the money on the chance it was real. And, as my luck would have it, they were the genuine article. I quickly learned how to utilize magic for both offensive and defensive purposes. I became a mighty Mage and a gifted Healer before I knew it.
Early October, 2008
It's happened. I finally did the one thing that would define my existence as a hero. I tamed a dragon. Granted, it was a baby dragon, but one the likes of which the world has only rarely seen: a Platinum Dragon! When next I return home, it will be with my pet dragon following me, just as the Dragonlords of old had their dragons battle alongside them.
However, not all is well in the world. I have heard rumors that the great castle of Sepulchure himself is on the horizon, approaching Swordhaven. I hope that these rumors are mere conjecture, but I have seen a rise in the number of undead roaming the lands recently. It may be time for me to take up arms as a Paladin. Perhaps, once I find the time, I might join the good fight.
Mid October, 2008
A new lair of evil has appeared... Bludrut Keep seems to be the name it has obtained. Rumor has it that the Keep was discovered long ago by a Guardian, and that he brought about its destruction by himself. But, judging by the fact it's still around, I'm guessing that those rumors aren't exactly true. I might have to take a look in there myself.
...
At first glance, it seems like nothing more than a tacky house. Unfortunately, the Keep is a bit more than meets the eye. As soon as I walked in the door, I was greeted by a spirit, bound to the accursed building by ancient magic. It bid me to find its captor and release it from his curse... The dreaded Groglurk. I fought my way through the monsters who would block my progress, and fought my first elemental: a rough-hewn earthen creature. After I struck it down, I descended further into the keep. The next level seemed to be inhabited by fire creatures, and was the home to yet another accursed spirit. Upon defeating the fire elemental, I descended further into the keep... where the process repeated itself yet again, with the theme of water in the next level. After ending the existence of the ice elemental serving as the guardian of the entrance to the keep's deepest level, I found myself wondering why such powerful creatures were bound to this place. Little did I know that the answer I sought was awaiting me on the next level...
Upon entering this final level of the keep, I found myself surrounded by creatures of shadow... Somehow, the plane of darkness had found a conduit in this dungeon. The spirit bound to this level was as insistent that I slay its captor as all those before, yet these creatures responded strangely to my weapons. I was barely able to overpower them, and locating their master was even more difficult. But, upon seeing the creature acting as steward of this level, I knew why this level had given me chills... It was not an elemental of darkness, but of evil. It was a twisted being, hewn of pure malice... I knew in that instant that my quest was truly essential. I must defeat the Groglurk. And this abomination was the only thing standing in the way of my goal. I fought for a long while, testing its resolve against my own. Eventually, though, my magic was what won me the day. Nothing in all of my learning could have prepared me for what I was about to see, though...
Beyond the room held by the Evil Elemental, hidden by magic reversed by its destruction, resided the Groglurk. I have never seen a creature more terrifying in my entire life. I knew that it could easily destroy me. However, my fear was overcome by my sense of obligation. The spirits bound to this accursed Keep can never find rest for as long as this vile beast roams these halls. My sword arm grew tense as I waited for the perfect time to strike.
...
I am a failure. A shame upon my mentor's training. I did succeed in my mission, but at a great cost in honor. As I waited for the opportune moment, another warrior entered the room, to do battle with the accursed beast. Instead of taking the honorable place at his side, I let the Groglurk nearly slay him, that I could gauge my chances. This warrior wasn't half as well trained as I was, nor did he have magic to back up his blade. He simply charged in, with all of his might in his swings, caring nothing for defense. He was nearly killed, yes, but he did a great deal of damage to the beast. It was in the moment before the Groglurk prepared to launch the killing blow that I intervened, slaying the foul beast with one mighty swing. I then cast a spell of healing over the warrior, and departed before he had a chance to remark on my deeds. I know he would have called me a hero. I'm not a hero. I'm just a coward.
Late October, 2008
Gah. These fools think it's a good idea to surprise me. Every time, they pass it off as "Just a joke" or "A Mogloween tradition"... A few times, they were almost on the end of my blade. They're messing around, true, and maybe I should take the time to join in the festivities... But still, it strikes me as odd to be celebrating in a time like this. The undead roam the streets, and it's every hero's duty to stop them from hurting anyone. So imagine my surprise when I found a giant, chainsaw holding zombie in the basement of one of the three houses in Mystcroft. These witches try my patience. They're lucky I know they're on our side. And the Vampire Queen... well, I know she is far beyond me in terms of power, and, from what few conversations I've had with her, I suspect she's one of the few "good" undead out there... but still, I have to stay on guard around her, so I don't risk becoming one of her minions. I still have things I'm looking to do that involve me being outside in the daytime. And besides, an undead paladin would be quite a big contradiction. I'd probably end up trying to slay my reflection... Wait, scratch that, vampires don't have a reflection, so the world's mirrors would be relatively safe. I'd still like to avoid healing myself to death, though.
Early November, 2008
It took them long enough to find it, but they discovered it at long last: the source of the draconians plaguing the countryside. Apparently, they serve a great Red Dragon by the name of Vasalkar. It will be a treacherous journey to the lair, but it's rumored that the head of the Dragonslayers himself is leading the assault. Perhaps, if I'm skilled enough, he will invite me to join their order.
...
I finally arrived. This place is even more massive than I could have anticipated. These draconians are fearsome fighters, but their swords fetch high prices from the Dragonslayers. Apparently, the Dragonslayers need to analyze them for weaknesses to better formulate their attack strategies. Or something like that. I tend to just keep Porkon's training in mind, and swing my sword with all the might I can muster. They tend to fall rather quickly when I do that. Surprisingly, I've found that I can use their wings as an improvised cloak. I think it's humorous, and my fellow Dragonslayers-in-Training seem to agree. Galanoth seems relatively indifferent on the matter, though, judging us by our form, rather than our dress.
Mid November, 2008
The day has finally arrived. We're to be inducted into the Dragonslayer Order. But, first, we must prove ourselves fully. We must defeat a dragon, as a group. While some of the group are busy practicing their swordplay or focusing their spells for effective dragon elimination, I've been given an "important role" - I'm to function as the group Healer. Normally I would object to this task, but apparently I'm the only one qualified for the role, and, since we don't want anyone dying today, it's a necessary job.
...
The day is won, and this time, I showed my valor. While it is true I acted as a Healer, I still managed to contribute directly toward Vasalkar's downfall. People like to forget that magical healing is simply the manipulation of life forces. With sufficient practice, a Healer can learn to weaken any foe who stands before him, and can use a burst of magical energy empowered by his own life force. A truly great Healer can even invigorate a fellow adventurer enough that his energy is effectively doubled. Galanoth was impressed by our deeds, saying that we more than proved ourselves. I am now a Dragonslayer, though the title is mostly for ceremony. The armor is nice, but more restrictive than I'm used to, and the training, while effective, isn't that useful on anything but dragons and their kin. Still, it's the thought that counts, and the fact that I've faced down a dragon puts me leagues above my friends. Something tells me most of them ended up hanging up their swords shortly after their first week. This life isn't exactly meant for everyone, I know, but they thought they could take it. I wonder if they did give up...
Late November, 2008, Part 1
Where to start... Between the Inquisitors striking out against me, the Dwakel crash site, and the giant... whatever that was, I'm surprised I haven't gone crazy yet.
I suppose I should start at the beginning. I heard of a group of soldiers, adamantly against the use of magic, who took it upon themselves to hunt down any "rogue" magic users. Unfortunately for me, I happened to be on that list, so I was abducted and detained... briefly, before I shot a couple fireballs at the two chuckleheads who weren't smart enough to tie up my hands. Upon overpowering the two goons responsible for abducting me, I broke out of the wagon, only to stumble upon a fellow magic user, a wizard by the name of... now that I think of it, it's probably a better idea not to write his name down, especially if the inquisitors find me again. He told me of their plans to wipe out all the world's magic. I fought my way through their soldiers, defeating countless dozens of them and freeing their captives from torture I could scarcely describe, only to come face to face with their Captain. A lengthy battle ensued, and, upon his defeat, he fell, disgraced, demanding that I kill him. It was the first time I had ever heard such a request, and I was truly puzzled by it. His answer shook me to my core.
"What we have done... No, what we are doing. It must end. I've committed countless atrocities in the name of our quest, never doubting the words of the Grand Inquisitor. But that monster... that unholy fiend... it must die. It is a perversion of all we stand for, all I believe in. And yet, I continue to feed it. It feeds on the magical energy of those we've captured. It is the way the Grand Inquisitor poses to rid the world of magic. Yet it is bound to this world through magic itself. I see my foolish ways now, my hypocrisy, and I see the only way to end this farcical crusade. Yet, for as long as I draw breath, I am sworn to let none pass, save the Grand Inquisitor himself. This is the only way I may hold my oath, and let justice be done."
I wavered in my resolve. None that I had fought before had been killed, save for monsters and the Dragon. Even the Zardmen were merely disarmed and rendered unconscious. But now, I faced an opponent I must kill. I was never prepared for this... No. I was. Every bit of my training led up to this point, the first time I had to kill another warrior. And, while I faced a moral dilemma, I knew what needed to be done. One life for the lives of thousands... no, millions. It was the only choice, and, as I struck him down, he smiled... and uttered two last words: "Thank you..."
Gone was Steve the Innocent. Steve the Unworldly. Now came Steve the Just. Steve the Righteous. Steve of Evil's Bane. Steve... the killer.
As I stood before the great doors before me, I was silent and solemn. Gone was my lack of resolve. The Fiend stood before me... Belrot, that was its name. I spared no mercy on it, banishing it back to the realm it from whence it came in a rage fueled flurry of blows. The last thing standing between myself and a more peaceful life was the Grand Inquisitor himself. His mace seemed to have some sort of magic-leeching property, but that mattered naught. I was in a place beyond anger, in a mindset incapable of using magic. I had become what all warriors fear... I had become a Berserker. His attacks landed repeatedly, but I didn't care. I wanted him to suffer, to bleed, to pay for all the damage he had caused... and he did. I left him alive, but injured, at a level where he would require magic to recover fully. Since I knew his views on that, I felt my justice was dealt. I returned home soon after that. Now that I think of it, I didn't return to the same home, or as the same man I was when I left. I'm no longer Steve the candymaker's son, and Swordhaven is no longer my home. Nor am I Steve the Warrior. I'm now Steve the Judge, who makes his home in Battleon. And those that I find guilty shall face a swift end.
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