A New "Chapter"

Greetings, dear reader. This is the "Diary" i intend of keeping for my time in the Chapter, and more entries will be added over time. I hope you find it as enjoyable to read as interresting i find the situation Skarain have ended to.

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The pages of the innocient looking brown notebook look so different now. Crimson writting covers the pages that were a moment earlier empty, letters skittering up and down the pages with a life of their own. Skarain looks over her shoulder in the dark corner of the abbeys sleeping quarters to confirm others being sleeping. She looks back at her Grimoire. The dark tome rests in her hands, triple the size of its other form. She feels the cover with her hand, following the lines carved to the dark leather, knowing them to be blood red and forming a large pattern covering the entire book. Skarain snaps out of her thoughts, looking over her shoulder again and reminds herself of the need to hurry. She moves her index finger above the page and the skittering letters running across the pages give room. She presses the nail of her finger against the page and begins to write with the nail, blood red writting appearing into the pages a second after the nail passing...

Entry 1.

Its nearly midnight when i record these thoughts to the notebook with my own blood, the book that became so much more than a simple warlocks Grimoire. How? I can’t say..it just happened. Did I force to much of my “essence” into the book, turning it into a part of me like a hand or leg would be, but still more…so much more… *a slight mess in the form of ink*

I came into the Abbey, unsuspecting but combat ready as always (you are always prepared after being once unprepared and almost loosing your dear life for it). The High-Librarian and High-Inquisitor had met me in the streets the day before, and asked me to come to the Abbey. I had already served my sentence for the jailbreak a month ago, and thought they wish to know more about the Blades…I thought I’d be safe.

Oh how wrong I was…

I was given two options, neither of them being easy. One was the Pyre, being purged of my sins for freeing Drustai by fire…(oh mistress, forgive my foolishness). Another was to take the Truesilver cross on the table. The so innocent looking piece of jewelry with a meaning and a burden as heavy as a mountain.

Death…or Anethionism.

The word raises a shiver going trough my spine. They are frowned at…fanatics, murderers and worse. Rumors going of many things, a few pleasant. Just like the options give to me, they see the world as Black and White. There is only good, them and the bad…people like me, Drustai and every single person doing “Sin”. They are so blinded by the light, that they can’t see the gray tones, which in truth hold more colors than pure light. Why?

Because the Light blinds you like the sun if looked straight at.

I have done horrible things…I have done good things…but never have I walked blinded. I see all the colors. I don’t think things are simple…there are many sides, to many sides to count…just like the path got an undefined amount of crossroads, the amount changing constantly. Life isn’t simple, the path is chaotic. Anything can happen, just like these events...

So what to do now?

The Blades are missing, my mistress sits her sentence in Dalaran and I am alone once again. I do not see the end of the path, like I never had. The road before me is dark, constantly changing…shifting from reality to another. How shall I manage?

Like always, being Feirand

The name holds a meaning, “one who is strong”. It was the word I took when I was alone, abandoned and had to survive. It solely made me to stand up and try again, when everything seemed hopeless. Not light, not loved ones, not friends…the faith in myself and my capabilities. I know now that I can…its all about belief. I will not waver. I will walk this road with my eyes on my goals. I will trust myself, and only myself. Oh how ironical…but suiting this sounds…

Faith (in myself) shall overcome!

Entry 2.

How strange...i am still alive.

Its been about a week now from my convert. I was asked to confess my sins and so I did, everything from my thieven years, leaving my child (…which I still and always will regret), practice of dark arts, corruption, damning, murders and the two resurrections…and I am still alive for Sins that I expected to be shoot on the spot. How very strange are there Anethioneans.

During my stay I have met only kindness and compassion. No-one is shouting insults at each other…they are all doing their “sacred duty” but oh Light when some outsider comes to the place… The Chapter is hated by outsiders, because their beliefs goes to such ends. To them there is only the Light, and nothing else. I wonder if I turn like that…

I sincerely hope not.

Their world may suit for them, but not me. I see to many colors, colors that they wouldn’t know of existing. They speak against hate but still I feel they hate the mistress. It may be “sinful” but still they do, just like the High-Librarian doesn’t approve me.

They are mortals, like all of us.

It’s a simple life I have encountered here, surprisingly similar ideas. They to think magic should not be used in vain, and a person should not live with more possessions that they need. There are yet something I do not approve…not at all…

The Thaumaturgian Collar.

Such a cruel device it is. A thorium collar with sharp spikes on the inside and outside, a spring mechanism on the side and a gem in the front…”Religious jewelry” they say.

It is a shackle.

It can’t be taken off, no matter how much you try. The spikes constantly against your skin, even if they do not sting…much. The design is simple but effective. If the wearer uses to much magic the gem will react, and the collar kills the wearer. It might be effective against unstable magus, but I do not like it.

I feel like being Trapped

The collar against my skin, the robes covering my body and the tabard against my chest…they are all part of this. I feel like being in a cage, with no door, no escape… There is only them and their faith. They deny me the freedom of walking my own path, one at the brink of corruption, at the edge of the blade.

Walking the Chaotic path of the Sorceress

I wonder how this all will end…

Entry 3.

The Chapter is strange…Very strange…

Much have happened during the days, from fighting undead to spotting necromancers and warlocks among the Chapterians. One is disguised in illusion, another got a ward near identical to mine. Were they to given “chance to salvation” (die or serve)? It’s a question I might never get known, in fear of revealing myself by knowing to much. They shall never know…

They must never know…

Even if I have confessed (most) of my sins if I ever told I was a Warlock…I would get a part of their hate, probably tortured for information. They say they do not hate, but they do. They are only mortals. Most of them can’t see past their hate, disguised in a “holy cause”…only because of the sins of the past. So many sinners among faithful…so many whose faith is twisted into something unpure…so many who never actually converted.

Like the Ex-Grand Master of the Ravenholdt Sanctuary.

Vincent is among them…I don’t believe he never truly repented, just like I never did. But how can I know? I am not him. I have talked with him…he is dangerous, simply as that. I have shown respect for what he is, for my own safety, and he “likes” me. It may save my life someday, if it comes to that. Who knows. I simply wish our paths never cross again.

Because I do not think he is fully sane…

Entry 4.

The Blades, they are here…

My former family in the place I would least expect them to come. They brought Kittrina, clearly corrupted by malefic forces. Sunken appearance, sharp claws…all in a nice package of chains, blindfolds and gags. Rey was also with them, corrupted to…Oh Rey, you just always get into troubles. This all…because of Lycos.

Lycos, the Fel have you became?

I think I just answered my own question. Fel…he sought power and he found it. He wielded it already when we meet…I remember that day. He annoyed several of us to near insanity with his nonsense, being so “active”. He was somewhat amusing, not something to be taken seriously. Yet I saw the truth, but ignored it…during our Spar. I could have won, but I avoided lethal force…he fired Fel at me when I asked if he was alright…he took the opportunity and won.

I already knew he was nothing like me.

I used Fel yes, but I didn’t want to. I feared the corruption that the power brought. He didn’t. He didn’t use Fel openly, reason why he is still alive. Yet he did. I know it to be true, since I saw him during my forced labor time as my punishment for freeing Drustai…his hair had turned gray. I knew at that point the scale, yet I did not react.

I could not know what he did to the Blades.

With the Chapters aid Kittrina and Reyleigh both got clensed. Blades now hold a debt for them, the Chapter. This is…not good.

Entry 5.

I have been promoted to Aspirant

Aspirant is a....well its when the training begins, in my case to a Thaumaturge. We have been given new kind of collars, less spikes and no real effect, more of a symbol. The Brace though…it prevents the use of Shadow. I tested during one night, it didn’t feel pleasant have your energy drained entirely…

But it gives me freedom.

I slipped one night to visit Kittrina, inform her and a few others about the situation. They do know now…the visit was worth it…

I must begin to plan the future now. I will remain in the Chapter, playing along. I know they are strict, but at current situation its still safest to remain with them. I got nowhere really to flee, and mistress is still detained in Dalaran. Least she is safe from the Chapter there. I do not think I will remain the rest of my life in the Chapter.

Someday…I will “die”

Entry 6.

The writing is different from the other entries, apparently done in a hurry…

The Fanatics are…crazy

I do not find a better word to describe it. I have just witnessed a wedding crashed by a opinion that the High Inquisitor and High Librarian might not truly love each other, being infatuation instead. The reaction was…angry.

I have now witnessed the fanatics fighting each other…

Back in the abbey there was arrest warrants, a fanatic protecting another..the one who spoke from High Inquisitors wrath…a man who moments later shoot the one who spoke. A fight and many gunshots followed, many wounded. The High Librarian and High Inquisitor made their escape…

This is very bad for my case.

The High Librarian had a good cause with Thaumaturges, seeking to improve them. It was she who developed the new collars which actually enable me to cast spells. Now that she is gone, and so many of them hate magic users…I fear facing much harsher treatment after the huge spell of hers, what she did during the fight and got shoot because of it.

I must hurry, and act now.

This is most likely my last entry, the last Chapter I write. No-one is watching me now, but I expect it to change. They do not like magic users, and I do not take chances. The collar enables me to teleport, and I still have contacts beneath Slaughtered Lamb…I need a disguise…The notebook is no longer safe…

Drustai, I am coming…

I loved reading this, and am sorry I didn't do so earlier. The raw voice of the diary, the events that keep cascading, the way you've kept the words very much in your character's own voice -- it's very engrossing!

Glad that you enjoyed

Though Skarian have left the Chapter now, and the Notebook(Grimoire) is at Drustais hands i might start writting something again if i encounter other Epic events. And to be honest...i thought myself a shitty writer >_>

It was good Skarain! Now keep of the Fel and be good!

This is great, very atmospheric.