Entries from Haven’s Sanctuary - The Begining
Prelude
Chintae stared out the window to the Ramparts far below her as her men continued to fight off the undead that assaulted their gates. She shook her head at the thought. Her men. Her outpost. She still couldn’t believe it, that the fight for Divine Grasp had been won, and now renamed to Haven’s Sanctuary, and a sanctuary it would remain.
A particularly cold gust of wind rattled the old windows, forcing her back from the window into the relative warmth of the fort. The fire had been lit and was doing its best to combat the constant chill that swept the Plains of Anguish, aptly named for the torture the denizens of the place had come to know. She had moved the often unused desk closer to the hearth to write in her journal in comfort. She took these breaks to check on her men, but the words of her journal kept repeating themselves in her head.
The Beginning
I began this journal to detail the events that come to happen in Haven’s Sanctuary, but quickly discovered that I was missing details of information that pertain to events that occurred in my life and had to pause in my journal to make notes that turned into stories. Well, I decided it best to just start from the beginning and explain who I am and what led me to the decision to conquer and take control of Divine Grasp.
My name is Chintae. I was born on an island that you now call Jalen’s Retreat. A small island that housed my tribe, a small fishing village in dedication to Sihari and her often volatile ways. I took the name Chintae when I turned thirteen cycles, meaning “Calm One”. It was also that day, when the Shaman of our village came and declare me his apprentice. I was to learn how to heal and mend wounds, be Shaman of the village when it came time for him to pass on. Being twenty-seven cycles of age, it was much to the relief of the village, and a source of much joy for my parents.
The Shaman started out with simple things, like making poultices, which herbs I could mix for certain cures, and soon, began teaching me about my abilities. He said my gift was Divine, but never elaborated on it, saying that in time, it would be revealed to me. What he did teach me was the basic principles of my skills. Identify the problem, concentrate and *channel* the flow of power and guide the body’s ability to restore itself. I must admit, it sounds much easier said than done. It took me several moons to finally grasp the concept of channeling. Satisfied with my progress, the Shaman soon let me practice my skills on the children. I asked if I would hurt them, and he said there was nothing I could do to hurt them that they couldn’t bounce back from. Children were amazing when it came to healing injuries. It took the least amount of energy as their bodies were so willfully ready to do the rest.
This led to a very close and loving relationship with the kids of the village and my desire to someday be a mother myself. I loved children, I loved everything about them, and they in turn loved me. I would tell them stories, and sing them songs, they would race all over the island to bring me flowers to make me smile. And when their parents went to sea, I would watch over them until they returned. If they returned.
If you come to know anything about Sihari, is that She is as changing as the sea. If Her moods demand it, She will wreck ships, just to placate Her chaotic nature, and if you don’t pay homage to Her, She will bring down Her ultimate fury forever cursing your soul to walk the beaches or roam the water. She can be a cruel Goddess to serve, but just as benevolent. She provided us with our way of life, for we were fishers, and seemed to never run short of food to supply our village. She provided us with much needed rain to make our water with, and grow our small crop fields with.
So in honor of Her, we would hold a prayer to her, a celebration that last three days and nights filled with feasting, dancing, and homage to Her, Sihari. Then our fishers would pack up, go out to the boats to bring us back the food that kept us fed through the long winter months.
Other than this, our days were long and peaceful, and if one does not understand the simple pleasure of life, like a child smiling warmly upon you, or the embrace of a friend, it would be hard to understand why those were the happiest days of my life. As it is, my first introduction to the rest of Telon was a jarring and fairly terrifying experience. But that, I’ll save for another day.
Twilight Hope, Crux of the North - Chapter 1
Chapter 1: A Dirty Page, A Child’s Tale
A woman in leathers holds a book in one hand and a map in the other. She looks up from the map and down the road, trees on either side and wind in her hair. She turns back toward the others.
“It’s not much further. We must rest the horses and resupply.”
She turns her attention back to the tattered book as the others ride by. One man stops on his horse and looks back. “Come. The horses need water.” She nods, looking seemingly through him.
They ride on down the path towards Adyinn’s Watch, the only bastion of order on the northern coast. That place the orcs landed and rushed over the hills. And this, the very path they tread down so long ago.
“I’ll water the horses.” Agawa takes the horses, leading them away down toward the creek.
I sat then on a stone fallen from the wall of the watch. The history of this place felt so thick. The book in my hands weighed enormously then. I could smell the sweat of the Orcs still. I opened the book and read again those pieces that remained of the passage:
“And the twin sons of Gulgrethor, Ashiji and Razranu, they took Landsview, the Stone of the North, and smashed it on the backs of its people. … Two of the sons of Lord Gulgrethor chopped down the people of the villages and burned everything in their path on the way to Landsview. … Twin devil sons rode to Landsview, the first to pay the price of their evil ways. Landsview was shaken to its foundations, and cracked at its cornerstone, it was emptied of life.
First to pay the price.
First to tell the tale.
Of the Sons and Lord, Gulgrethor.
Look in the dark.
Look in the deep.
For the Sons and Lord, Gulgrethor.”
The Twilight Hope. That’s what the passage referred to. A rumor of a myth, something I had heard about back during my teachings in Khal.
It was my master who I had first heard it from. During one of his teachings of the history of battles, he was finishing up a particularly long series of lectures on the Gulgrethor Orc invasions of Thestra. He muttered ‘The Twilight Hope’, and he sat there for a minute lost in his own thoughts, but neglected to share with us what he was thinking.
After the class had been dismissed, I asked him what he was talking about. About The Twilight Hope. He didn’t tell me much, only that he heard a story once about something the Orcs left behind in their wake of destruction that could restore northern Thestra to its former peace and glory. He said to forget about it. A fool’s hope.
I pressed him, but he couldn’t tell me any more than that.
The very next day, I started the long journey to finding out what The Twilight Hope was. And you can understand my lack of surprise when nobody could answer my questions: I asked teachers, scholars, the priests, and even the Mayor himself.
When the learned couldn’t answer my questions, they showed me books that might tell. None of the ones in Khal could tell me. Nor the ones in New Targanor. For weeks I scoured any place that had a book to be looked at.
And then I was surprised when I found a book in Lakeview. A book passed down a generation, and stuffed into a trunk, never to have been read since. I poured over the text, and found the passage which spoke of The Twilight Hope…but which here in the North is called The Crux. It’s a kid’s story, apparently.
The Sage Orachar here in Adyinn’s Watch says the child’s tale tells of the two bracelets worn by the Twin Sons, and the power the bracelets hold over the wicked. And another of a torque of some sort. I have found it! The Twilight Hope! The Crux! From a dusty page in a book and from a child’s tale, The Twilight Hope, Crux of the North is bound in these trinkets.
… In the dark. In the deep.
“The horses are ready.”
I looked up. Agawa was there with the reins to Sugar, my horse. A strong hand on the reigns. He didn’t yet believe what I had told him, but he would soon see.
“Let’s head out then. … To Landsview.”
Castle Landsview - Chapter 1
We had been traveling for several days, stopping for the nights at impromptu camps along the road. We were all tired and the horses needed to be watered. Our supply situation didn’t look so great either. As we passed the remains of Castle Landsview Nethervoid pointed out that there was an outpost ahead that we could stop at.
When we reached the outpost, I saw to our mounts while the rest of the party spoke to the local militia. I got the horses watered and fed, and picked up some supplies before rejoining the others. They were already getting ready to head out again. It seems the local militia had asked us to investigate some reports of trouble at the ruins we passed earlier. Since they were just down the road, we had agreed to take a look.
As we started down the road I wondered how anything much could be happening there. The ruins I saw were fairly small and not much more than a few crumbled walls. More than likely all the fuss was being caused by local ruffians using the ruins the ambush travelers.
When the ruins came into sight at the bottom of the hill, Nethervoid called for us to stop. We moved off the road and began to prepare ourselves for a possible confrontation. While my friends busied themselves casting various magical wards and enhancements, I knelt on the ground, closed my eyes, and focused my energies inward. Some of the most powerful energies in all of Telon come from the very center of our being. This energy, known as Jin, could only be harnessed by those few like myself that devoted their lives to learning mastery over both body and min. as the energies built within, I directed them outward hardening my skin and coating my hands and feet in a magical flame that would increased the strength of my attacks. I stood up, grabbed the sword strapped to my back and the flames spread to cover the blade as well.
As we approached the ruins they seemed just as unimpressive as they had at first glance earlier that day. Once we were within the ruins however, Nethervoid noticed a partially concealed set of stairs leading down to tunnels underground. Rhywadd pulled a torch from his satchel and we proceeded down. The corridors were dark, and cold, and seemed to suck the heat away from the torch.
We moved forward cautiously, myself in the front, all my senses alert for trouble. We rounded the corner and I caught sight of movement ahead of us. Quickly I held up my hand, signalling my party to stop, and dropped into a crouch. Peering ahead into the darkness I saw what appeared to be a large foyer with hastily built bulwarks at our end. What I saw in that room however sent a chill down my spine. Wandering amongst the erected defenses were the ghosts of Orc soldiers!
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