Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 2:06 PM, Post Subject: Journal - Marth Coralax
A year and a half.
That was how long I ravaged the countryside with that parasite in charge. Reaver. The damned creature. A demon unlike any I have ever seen or read about. Reaver, a parasite feeding off not the misery of others, but the host. A year and a half of torturing me, seemingly for the fun alone.
The day is the sixth of Nix, 526. According to the healers, I have slept for nearly two moons. Reaver did not rest. Reaver did not let me sleep. Not one moment of sleep for a year and a half, only Reaver's terrible singing, manic laughter, and killing. So much killing. So much blood on my hands. I remember everything, for Reaver was keen to show me all the monstrosities he performed with my flesh. The healers say I should write it down. That it will help calm my spirit. I do not believe them, but if nothing else, people need to know what this creature is truly capable of.
From my last journal entry, not counting Reaver's inane scribblings, you'll see I made a terrible mistake, and inspected Reaver's shard. In Machtzopi, Reaver was paralyzed by the same magic void that brought so many mages to suicide. The moment I touched it, the damned creature was in complete control. I didn't realise at first, until I began laughing. I tried to toss the shard away, to no avail. Reaver was in control. And Reaver was powerful.
Using me as a conduit for his foul, corrputed forces, Reaver laid total waste to the camp. He forced me to watch as my hands tortured and slew my troops, and the civilians. Forced me to listen to their pleas of mercy as my hands carved their bodies to shreds. Forced me to taste their blood on my tounge as Reaver feeded. Reaver was unstoppable. A team of demon hunters might have brought him down, but normal men stood no chance. When Reaver was done, he skipped, singing, towards a nearby village. There, he forced me to watch as he tore apart the men, violated the women, before killing them, and did the same to the children. Again, and again, village after village, always to his cackling laughter.
I lost count. I do not know how many Reaver tortured and killed, but the number is somewhere in the thousands. Never a witness, never a survivor. I have learnt later that people thought there was a bandit group, a clan of marauders so violent and well-versed in magic that not a single person survived any of their raids. Three times, I heard, bandit clans were hunted down and exterminated, and people thought the threat was over. Then, seven moons ago, someone began to suspect that a dark wizard was involved.
I was caught by an expedition of paladins. Reaver managed to kill two of them, but I felt my body go stiff. After that, everything is a blur of pain. The healers said the exorcism took a full week, and that the pain of their ritual was akin to flaying, or the height of a childbirth. I cannot begin to tell you how horrible it was, for the moment it stopped, after what felt like an aeon, I fell asleep. That was two moons ago, as I mentioned.
I find myself startled by the smallest sound. A hooting owl brings forth images of children in agony, laughter brings forth the bale, bloodied, writhing faces of men I once counted as brothers in arms. My sleep brings ne reprieve, for they are full of nightmares so terrible that even when I die, I don't wake up. I am just thrown into some new hell.
The paladins say that Reaver is gone. At least the part of Reaver that was in the shard I touched. But I still hear his laughing voice in the back of my mind, still hear his taunts reminding me what he did with my arms. Even casting simple magic holds an echo of him, for it feels wrong, like I am channeling some demonic force and not arcane energy.
I do not know what to do with myself from here on out. What I do know is that I need to find answers, and bring whomever tricked me into that citadel to justice. I just hope I am able to do so without hurting more innocent people along the way. The last thing I want is the blood of another babe on my hands, or the tears of another widow to haunt my dreams.
Marth Coralax, remembering always.
Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 1:32 PM, Post Subject: Journal - Marth Coralax
HA HA BLOOD MISERY HA DEATH HA HA PAAAAAIN HO HA
CHAOS DEATH DEATH HA DEATH HA HAVOC TEARS BLOOD HAHA
FOOD HA SOULS HA HE FILTH HO SQUALOR PAIN PAIN DEATH TEARS SORROW HA HAHAHAHA JOY? FUN? BLOOD! DEATH! HAHAHAHAHAHAH
CRY, LITTLE GIRL, CRY, LITTLE BOY, DIE, LITTLE MAN, DIE, LITTLE TOY HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
PAIN DEATH SCREAM, SCREAM, SCREAM! LOSS SORROW FUN! HAHAHAHA
CHAOS BLOODPAIN MISERY DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE, DIE
Mortal world, mortal world, I am now in mortal world! Sing along, sing along, as I ring ol' reaper's gong,
believer, believer, hide now from the Reaver, Reaver, Reaver, slay now that believer! Need, need, need, need, Reaver has the need to feed!
REAVER REAVER REAVER IS HERE!!!!!!!
Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 1:15 PM, Post Subject: Journal - Marth Coralax
Afternoon, 26/05/525
We are out. Finally, we are out. Running water, wild game, and roots can be found around us, and my magic has returned to me. Me and the three battle-magi that remain to me have regained our abilities and recovered from our hellish migraines. That is not to say that spirits are high - of the three hundred and fifty people that marched into Machtzopi, only sixty-three made it out again. And now that my head is clear, I realise that someone has a lot to answer for. My suspicions were justified, there are several things about this damnable venture that does not add up. But with so many casualties, my credibility has taken a grevious hit. I will need to tread carefully when we get home, in order to get the answers I require, and hopefully bring whomever schemed this adventure to justice. But I need more facts.
Now, with our supplies and spirits recovering, I think I shall press on for a few days before finding a defensible location and dig in for a while. I wish to study the shard of Reaver more closely, and I will begin tonight, by having a look at those markings. Our arcaeologist has urged us not to, but a man who cannot even identify a citadel buried in sand can scarecly be expected to know anything about magical artifacts.
Today, I made a loud promise to my men to bring them answers. And I will not have it said of me that Marth Coralax is not a man of his word.
Captain Marth Coralax
Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 1:06 PM, Post Subject: Journal - Marth Coralax
Night, 25/05/525
Locals attacked us today. They had followed our breadcrumbs, and met us just as we were preparing to make camp. Why they chose to attack, I do not know. Maybe this place is sacred to them. The few we caught after the fighting spoke no coherent language, and their attack was as savage and brutal as the people.
With bows and poison darts, they came upon us from three sides. The surprise was absolute. Civilians, soliders, all were killed indiscriminately by the savages. A good thirty people had fallen before our defense was even awake. Our rangers disappeared just as the attack started. Damnable mercenaries - traitors, the whole lot of them. I do not know how many of the savages there were - at least seventy - but when our troops finally managed to gain some good ground, they fled in the face of the skill and discipline of Wyllmochvarian infantry. But the damage had been done. Half our remaining troops and two thirds of our staff we slain in the ambush. The only good news is that we'll be out of the dead zone some time tomorrow. I just hope those treacherous forest bandits that fled us are not waiting to rob us. If they are, I'll make them wish they were never born.
Captain Marth Coralax, in leal service.
Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 12:59 PM, Post Subject: Journal - Marth Coralax
Afternoon, 23/05/525
We're down to four mages. All the rest have killed themselves, and I am beginning to understand why. My head pounds like the bell towers of home, though this ringing never stops. My vision has begun to blur from time to time. Luckily, our rangers insist we'll be out in two or three days at the most. I am currently not writing my own journal, I am disctating Lieutenant Marvora. In any case, our supplies will not hold for another four days, so I hope the rangers are right. By now, we've lost over a third of our number, and I'd hate to lose more. The rangers' breadcrumbs have been of tremendous help. With the stars obscured by dust and heat, and the sun too treacherous to believe, it has been the only thing we've truly been able to rely on.
I am beginning to wonder about this mission. Whomever issued it must've known how dangerous this land is, and should have attatched more survival experts and a greater supply train to the group. And whose idea was it to bring an archaeologist who couldn't recognize a buried structure? I am beginning to smell something foul, and it is not rotten horseflesh, though we certainly have a fair amount of that with us.
Perhaps my mind will become clearer once we leave this dead zone and I can channel some magic again. I feel as though I'm an addict, suddenly removed from my vice.
Captain Marth Coralax, in leal service.
Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 12:48 PM, Post Subject: Journal - Marth Coralax
Noon, 15/05/525
We found it. At long last. After three days of searching this damnable citadel, at long last, the shard has been found. It is of eerie shape - sharp, small, looks rather like a chunk of stibnite, but with intricate and clrealy artificial symbols in bright green. It has been placed in a suitable container, as we are about to strike camp. Three more men have died from disease, we've had five more suicides, and a dozen have perished to the various traps in this citadel. It is time the dying stopped.
We sent out a handful of rangers with enough supplies to carry them a third of the way home and back to us. They report that, while a little inaccurate, their breadcrumbs should lead us safely home. With my head pounding ever harder by the hour, I cannot wait to be quit of this place, and return home. I have some questions for the people in charge of these expeditions, and I will expect some damned good answers, for me, my troops, and those we leave behind.
Captain Marth Coralax, in leal service.
Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 12:39 PM, Post Subject: Journal - Marth Coralax
Dawn, 13/05/525Hope and despair! With the settling of the dust storm, the spire we found turned out to be the top of a much larger structure - a citadel of sorts. However, through the night, we suffered many casualties. Over two dozen soldiers died from dysentry, and five more mages took their own lives in despair. However, with these casualties, our supplies might be enough to get us back. And wherever there is trace of civilization, there is trace of water. We might yet come out of this alive.MorningYes! It is confirmed. Our archaeologist, together with the few men with strength to help, have found a source of running water. Our rangers has deemed it safe to drink, and with this, we have an indefinite amount of water. With proper slaughtering of our dead horses, we also have enough food to stay for a few days before returning, as well as safe shelter. I've instructed my men to move into the abandoned structure, and they are happy to oblige. A number of them are still sick, however, and I fear many more will perish before we are out of this hellhole. Nevertheless, we must take what solace we can. It seems we might yet succeed in our mission.AfternoonWe have now moved inside. Our physicians, now free to practise their trade, are busy saving what men can be saved. The rest have been put out of their misery, with the proper rights. By now, we are down to seventeen battlemages, one hundred and two men-at-arms, and fourty-three rangers. For now, at least, it seems most, if not all, of these troops will survive. Those with the strength have begun searching the compound for the artifact, and those without are doing what they can to grow stronger. I, too, will need to rest, for my head is throbbing.Captain Marth Coralax, in leal service.
Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 12:28 PM, Post Subject: Journal - Marth Coralax
12/05/525
We are doomed.
The dust storm has been raging for about two days now, and we are stranded. We are past our point of no return - several barrels of water has spoiled, causing dysentry among the troops. It came upon us as we were inspecting a spire we found. We had just made camp when our archaeologist told me it was much too small to be the place we were searching for. I was about to order the camp struck, when a wall of pale brown was spotted on the horizon. We barely had time to dig in before it hit. The wind is howling, and outside the tents one can barely see two feet. The horses have been put under makeshift lean-tos, but we've lost quite a few already. The disease threatens to claim a large number of people, as well.
What have I done? I ought to have turned back a long time ago, sent the rangers to forage for us, and maybe left my fellow battlemages outside the dead zone to stock up on supplies for us to fetch. I ought to have brought locals to assist us. Something!
There's some noise outside. I must see to it at once.
Captain Marth Coralax
Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 12:22 PM, Post Subject: Journal - Marth Coralax
Afternoon, 09/05/525
We are getting closer, according to our archaeologist. I can't help but be pessimistic about it. As I feared, the rangers' mood has fallen dangerously, and today, we found that one of our battlemages, incapable of withstanding this magical void, took his own life in desperation. Morale is falling dangerously low, and as far as supplies go, they diminish at an outright dangerous pace. In a few days, we'll have passed the point of no return, and I am beginning to wonder whether that time is not already long gone.
The last couple of days, we have been plagued by dust storms. Rangers, mages, and soldiers alike say that moving through a dust storm is a surefire way to get turned around and altogether lost, and the sun here seems to bake as hotly in the arid air as we do. Three times already has the sun decieved us by day, leading us in the wrong direction. As a result, we have been moving far more slowly than we did the first few days, and by the nervous glaces of our navigators, I am beginning to think we may be lost. The rangers seem not to think so - at least, they are positive that they can find the way back out of the dead zone using their "breadcrumbs", a fact which relieves me almost enough to have continued confidence in our mission.
However, I must admit it looks bleak for us. I do not wish to doom my troops, and so, if we have not found what we are looking for three days hence, I will turn us around.
Captain Marth Coralax, in leal service…
Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 12:12 PM, Post Subject: Journal - Marth Coralax
Morning, 02/05/525It is our third day inside the dead zone known to the locals as Machtzopi. The troops seem to be in high spirits, except our battlemages. I am not sure when, but we passed the boundry some time ago. Myself and my fellow magi find ourselves completely unable to use magic. Headaches have already become a problem for some of our more senior mages, and many of them have elected to hand over their command to the NCOs of the footmen and rangers. I have no problem with this. Soon, academic achievment will me more important than skill at command, and with mental fetigue being a problem, I need them focused on the important tasks. I, however, can not afford to show weakness now, and must remain dilligent and focused.Our surroundings are as barrens as we feared. The scarce weeds that grow between cracks in the rocky badlands have proven inedible to man and horse, and whatever water is to be found is stagnant and foul. The rangers, used as they are to live off the land, might soon see their morale plummet. This is worrisome, for as mercenaries, they are prone to desertion, and right now, they are our most vital assets. What's more, the air here is dusty, making the sky difficult to see, and so navigation by stars isn't as relaible as I had believed. On the bright side, however, the men-at-arms seem largely unaffected by their current conditions, and many of the NCOs there have proven highly valuable in their ability to balance personal command, discipline, and morale management. The troops themselves also seem to realise the importance of their cohesion - with less to go around, they share more readily, and the strongest take some of the burden off the weaker among us to make sure we move at a respectable pace.Our archaeologist seem as confident as he has any right to be that we are moving in the right direction. I cannot begin to tell how glad I am of that. The sooner I am quit of this place, the better. Captain Marth Coralax, in leal service.
Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 12:01 PM, Post Subject: Journal - Marth Coralax
Noon, 25/04/525
We are now only a few days away from our destination. As expected, the troops have grown a bit more somber as we approach the dead zones. Morale is still good - but the troops are wary of their surroundings now. This is good - prudent - and I, for one, am happy to see them take their responsibilities seriously. We've had the odd dispute on the way, but nothing out of the ordinary, and forage has been good, so we have ample supplies for our mission. In the dead zones, however, that may change quickly. I dare not forage there - who knows what poisons, diseases, and curses may be inflicted on us - but should supplies run low, we can always retreat and make a foraging round before returning. My greatest worry is water. In the barrels, even water might spoil in the right (or wrong) conditions. I've threrefore set a few of the battlemages on duty to keep watch on the water, and purify it regularly. I'll also begin water rationing soon.
I've looked through the intel we have on the area where the shard is supposedly to be found. It's rocky, difficult to navigate, and the locals say the landmarks are identical to one another, making navigation nearly impossible. We have one or two ex-sailors with us, so navigation by stars should be viable, but it's disconcerting to know that chartography will be useless - or worse, misleading. A few of the rangers have suggested placing trace stones, like the breadcrumbs in the fairy tale, wih markings that allow the rangers to determine the direction of the next mark. While I prefer the constancy and predictability of the stars, it seems a prudent measure, and I have instructed them to erect these makeshift landmarks as we progress.
Captain Marth Coralax, in leal service.
Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 11:08 AM, Post Subject: Journal - Marth Coralax
Noon, 16/04/525
Our third day on the march saw my first challenge as company captain. Two of my officers - Staff Sergeant Zephyrox and Battlemage Helvarius - were arguing about troop discipline after a soldier was caught taking more than his share of sourwine from the company holds. Staff Sergeant Zephyrox wanted to humiliate the man, have him march in motley and recant his sins at the beginning of every hour, while Battlemage Helvarius believed that theft was best punished by flogging. Personally, I am partial to agree with Helvarius, but injuring men on purpose while marching is counterproductive, and Staff Sergeant Zephyrox has a good track record when it comes to discipline, unorthodox as he may be. When I first heard of the conflict, I resolved to learn just how much the man had stolen, and what he had done with it, before making my decision. He hadn't taken much - a single skin - and had shared among his mates in his platoon. The men had no idea the wine was stolen - I'm inclined to believe both perpetrator and his friends in this - and the infraction, while shameful, doesn't quite warrant causing the man any injury.
As such, I elected to command the man publicly paddled. It was the best compromise I could make at the time, but in hindsight, I shouldn't have compromised so thuroughly. Now, many of the officers seem to think I am a mediator more than a commander, a politician as opposed to a warrior. And it would only harm my standing to come out and defend myself now - I compromised on punishment versus troop health, not the opinions of Zephyrox and Hevarius. Still, the troops themselves seemed to think it was a fair punishment, and of that, I am glad. The officers can say what they will - as long as the troops of the company are loyal to me, and not them.
The mission thus progresses steadily. The march is going well - we are a few miles ahead of schedule - and morale is fairly high. We're beginning to move out of familiar territory, however, and our mercenary rangers have begun to get busy hunting, foraging, and scouting to supply the company with food, water, and intel. I doubt we'll run into trouble this close to home, but I have instructed the rangers to move in teams of two, in case of renegades or packs of wild animals.
Captain Marth Coralax, in leal service.
Author: Marth, Posted: Wed Jan 27, 2016 10:55 AM, Post Subject: Journal - Marth Coralax
Dusk, 12/04/525
Today, I was finally promoted to the rank of captain. As per my habit, I have elected to archive my old journal and begin anew using this one, a new journal, for a new rank, for a new step towards glory for my homeland, the Republic of Willmochvar. As per tradition, upon ascending to the rank of Captain, I was given a weapon of choice and command of a full company. As opposed to the rank of lieutenant, I am now the highest ranking officer in my unit, and answer directly to Colonel Sorax Forazar in Willmochvar city. As such, I am now solely responsible for the success of my company's missions. To celebrate this fact, I have been tasked with finding an artifact, the shard of a demon called Reaver, so the scholars back home can study it thuroughly. I cannot say I like the idea of studying demon shards, but it is a necessary thing to learn about them. And so, I will complete my mission, for the glory of the homeland.
My charge is a fine one. Twenty-six skilled battlemages, one hundred and fourty-four men-at-arms, and an auxillary force of fifty mercenary rangers in addition to civilian staff. The troops will be ready to move in the morning, sotuh towards the dead zones of Pravpora, where the artifact is supposedly to be found. Some of my troops are nervous, but most are eager to get the job done. This is good. Duty and caution are both virtues in fighting men and women. As soon as a good night's rest has been gotten by all, we move.
I sincerely hope I can prove myself worthy of the trust that has been placed in me by the Council.
Captain Math Coralax, in leal service.
