DF Novices, prologue - Renaud's Journal
I have been giving out Impulse Points* to any player who writes a summary for the blog. One of our new players (relatively new; Renaud Aymon joined the party in session 17) wanted to write an in-character journal for the days leading up to his holy warrior's introduction to the group. Here it is. I figure it's long and creative enough to be worth 2 Impulse Points.
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Pray for the souls of:
Armida (sister)
Alard (eldest nephew)
Guiscard (youngest nephew)
Angelica (niece)
Sophos (companion from the monastery)
Phanos (leader of the pilgrimage to Fairhill)
Belatrix (old lady, died in her sleep, first person I've seen die)
Lara (young lady, died attacked by a wolf)
Dione (Lara's friend)
Odite (young lady, game me something to sleep when I was sleepless)
Sofronia (lady, died attacked by goblins)
Olinda (lady, died attacked by goblins)
Clorinda(lady, died attacked by goblins)
Andromeda (old lady, died attacked by goblins)
Philipa (old lady, died attacked by goblins)
Lydia (lady, died attacked by goblins)
Syra (lady, died attacked by goblins)
May 15, 645 - Bless me, Ishtanna, the worker.
Ishtanna, save me from my own forgetful mind. I can't believe I lost my journal. Sophos was always the more absent-minded. Thank Ishtanna I have some change to procure a few pages in the market. He'll have a laugh at my expense if I find him again. The Grand Master assured me that many who go on pilgrimage delay their return. Ishtanna willingly that his piety is to blame. However, four months is too long a time, and Sophos was never the contemplative one among us. I don't think I could spend 4 months ONLY fasting and praying; they call us monk-warrior for a reason.
May 16, 645 - Bless me, Ishtanna, the subduer of the winds.
Ishtanna, deliver me from my longing. I woke up thinking about Sophos again. Although there is much to be done in Plytos, I must depart. Ishtanna has enlightened my path to a group of pilgrims who are leaving the city to go to Fairhill. I pray my friend is well, but also that the work in the monastery is blessed. The leader of the expedition, Phanos, an elderly man of impressive bearing was most delighted to have a holy warrior with them, said the journey was blessed to have me also on pilgrimage. For some reason I did not have the will to tell him I was exclusively looking for my friend, and my leave from the monastery was only due to my insistence that something has happened to him. Have I failed in trusting my life and the world to the providence of Ishtanna, the almighty, the delayer of death? I've never felt more faithless.
May 17, 645 - Bless me, Ishtanna, the delayer of death.
Ishtanna, guide us with her gentle hands. I met the pilgrims early in the morning. We're a group of 23, with 5 armed men, including me. They said the road was relatively safe, most attacks recently have been the work of the lizard-people but they seemed to have been pushed back. They don't appear to expect any trouble. Aside from the leader and the warriors, the group is comprised of women, more elderly than not. Two of them are on pilgrimage to thank Ishtanna for the birth of their grandchildren; four to pray for their sons who are fighting in the king's army; six to thank the goddess for recent ailments cured; three, of the oldest women I have ever seen, to pray for the soul of recently departed husbands, and three young women to pray to find husbands (though I think they are going to a new city not much to pray but to look around in a new environment). They are all very lively, and never stop talking about their families, hopes and even dreams. Funny how even in the final years of their lives they still hope for adventure and excitement, even if it is just to have their grandchildren finally call them "grandma".
May 18, 645 - Bless me, Ishtanna, the saviour.
Ishtanna, comfort those who have perished. Death has found us. We left early in the morning, when the son had not even risen yet. We broke our camp outside the walls of the city and were walking with spirits high. We stopped for lunch in a clearing by the road when the sun was at its zenith. After lunch, some decided to take a nap to regain their strength. Phanos had warned me our journey would be slow with so many elderly, so I resigned myself to helping them. Their storied had done much in distracting me from my own predicaments. I worried not. Fool. When we decided to wake them up to carry on, one of the oldest of ours did not, died in her sleep under the shadow of an oak tree. The wind had messed her pearly white hair. We buried her where she died. It was my first funeral after my parents, the first after being ordained. It was also my first eulogy and blessing of the dead. I rest assured no one will defile her body now and raise her for their own benefit. Belatrix was her name, married for 40 years, 9 children, 17 grandchildren. One can be so lucky as her. Ishtanna may have deemed that she needed not pray for her husband, she might have deemed necessary for her to be by his side for all eternity in our goddess forever lasting feast.
May 19, 645 - Bless me, Ishtanna, the avenger.
Ishtanna, test me not with the lives of others. Death lingers still. This time is was our youngest, Lara, attacked by a wolf when in private. We warned them about never being alone, even in these situations, but to no avail. When I heard the scream, it had already gone for the neck while she crouched and was feasting on her legs when I cut its head. It must have been hungry and alone, for it did not hear me while I approached. Lara was fair, she would have found a good husband. Her friend told me Lara wanted to leave Plytos to scape her stepmother meddling in her life. She was fond of peaches. I had one in my backpack, I buried her with it. My sister also likes them. I hope when she gives it to you, goddess, you reward her with all the happiness she would have had in life had I not been so careless.
May 20, 645 - Bless me Ishtanna, the joyous.
Ishtanna, let my heart rest. Lara's friend, Dione, was a mess. Some of the more elderly women have taken upon themselves to cheer her up, they have given her chores, told her stories and sung her songs. I caught her smiling by sunset, and felt everything was going to be alright. When we set camp for the night, she sat by my side and sang the most sad song I had ever heard, whose lyrics I have not the heart to write for I don't know if I ever want to hear them again. She shed a tear and smiled to me saying it was one of Lara's favourites. It reminded her of her late mother. And now it will haunt me forever.
May 21, 645 - Bless me Ishtanna, the subduer of the winds.
Ishtanna, let my body and soul rest. I cannot sleep. I feel such weight on my shoulders. At night the slightest swing from the branches and the softest blow from the winds is enough to keep me on high alert. The bushes play with my mind and the the wildlife sing durges to my spirit. I see shadows in broad daylight. I fear for my soul and for those who responsability is mine to protect. I must not fail them. I must not fail Sophos. I must not fail the Goddess.
May 22, 645 - Bless me Ishtanna, the healing goddess.
Ishtanna, let those who confort be conforted. During the night one of the youngest startled me by sneaking behind me. To my shame, I drew my sword at her. She was so frightened. She made me a drink, from herbs she had found. She had seen I was sleepless. Never saying a word, she raised her hands and pushed the cup on to mine. I didn't say thnk you at the time, but I drank it and I slumbered. I woke up post the 3rd hour. Everyone was waiting for me. Embaressed, my eyes found hers. She smiled, and I nodded. Then she resumed ther preparations and continued her journey singing with some of the elder ladies. Phanos told me her name was Odite. I shall remember to pray for her.
May 23, 645 - Bless me Ishtanna, the delayer of death.
Ishtanna, let the young live longer and let the old find rest. I cannot wash my hands from the blood. We were attacked by two goblins scouts. They saw the women and thought we were easy pray. I was a few hundred yards away, looking for berries nearby with a group of women, when I heard the scream. Three were dead when I got to camp. I drew my sword and call on Ishtanna, the avenger. They were soon dead. I dismembered their bodies and left for the wolves, or whichever foul creature would eat such evil beasts. I gave yet another eulogy and performed another funeral rite. I got the strange feeling that I will be doing those more frequently than the monastery has taught me I would. Their names were Sofronia, Olinda and Clorinda. None of them were old, but none were young either. Their sons were in the army, they were praying for their safe return. Will you, Ishtanna, the savior, take them to your side to? When I sat down, I saw my hand bloody, not the foul black blood of goblins, but the red, now maroon, of humans. It is theirs. What's left, on my hands, the ones that couldn't save them.
May 24, 645 - Bless me Ishtanna, the joyous.
Ishtanna, let not the anger and hate grow inside me. No more, no more death, please. It's clear now that those two goblins were member of a larger party. More goblins have attacked us at night. We lost two of our armed men, and 4 of our ladies. Another grandmother will not live to see their grandchild grow old. Andromeda was her name. She had just been blessed with her first granddaughter. She was a bit grumpy, but did not deserve to die holding her entrails. Goddess! What could they possibly want from a bunch of innocent and poor pilgrims? Why so much violence on those who don't threaten or injure anyone? I didn't bother to count how many goblins were killed. I burnt their carcasses, bury the dead and left. We are not resting anymore. We need to move. The other girls names were Philipa, Lydia and Syra, all of them travelling to thank the goddess for curing them of pneumonia. After looking at their dead bodies I couldn't help thinking that dying of pneumonia would have been more merciful. They would at least be surronded by their loved ones, not alone, in the dark, terrified.
May 25, 645 - Bless me Ishtanna, the strong.
Ishtanna, let my path be clearer. We arrived at Bridgegate early in the morning. We didn't sleep through the night. None of the pilgrims feel safe, and we have lost two armed men, whom we have no money to replace. Many want to return, but are afraid of the road behind, and many want to push forward, but are afraind of the road ahead. I feel that I can't leave them but I must keep going. Xander, one of the other guards is also travelling to Fairhill. The pilgrims are in a mist of horror and blind devotion, wanting to finish the pilgrimage. I keep going back and forthin my mind on whether we are being curse because we took the pilgrimage or being tested. But why should the goddess test us so? Why them? Is it me? Is she using them to test my resolve and faith? Question like that plague me. I refuse to believe I'm so important as to cost the lives of more than 10 people, some on whom their families rely so much: mothers, daughters and grandmothers. I need to rest. We could at least find shelter in the temple of Mezzan.
May 26, 645 - Bless me, Ishtanna, the joyous.
Ishtanna, bless this city. Bridgegate has grown on me today. I met a group of charitable priests of Mezzan and was able to assist with their labours. Some of the pilgrims helped. Many hunger and are destitute. There was a particular young lady who had suffered much. Both parents died of a quick and unknown disease, and she was left alone, having lost both younger brothers before her parents parished. Yet she carried the widest smile across her face and was much inclined to be helped and also help. She carried plates while we were feeding the homeless by the Main Street and washed the bandages while we were healing the sick next to the Wall. We encouraged her to join the temple to become a priest herself, but she refused, saying she wanted to get married, have her own inn and be a cook. A priest named Carin took her to a most trusted establishment where she could start her training. Shall never forget her name, Cass. May Ishtanna, the worker, bless her with many children and a fulfilling life. All this charitable work has done wonders with the pilgrims and morale has risen once a group of 6 armed men who were travelling to Fairhill volunteered to join us. Much more armed, the pilgrims are now adamant on continuing as fast as possible. May this be a sign of good fortune ahead.
May 27, 645 - Bless me, Ishtanna, the warlike.
Ishtanna, let no my hand falter in my enemies presence. We left Bridgegate early in the morning. Most of the good yesterday's work has done to my soul has vanished. I felt powerless and useless. We crossed the bridge at about noon and after we raised our camp I noticed. We're are being followed. Twice I've seen shadow lurking about our camp today. I have conveyed my worries to our leader and the warriors. We are on alert. None of the others know. Our position is precarious, we can neither haste nor linger. I fear the worst. Will I have the courage to die here? Will I cower and escape and leave the defenceless to their fate? Will I have the strength to save them?
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* This is basically a version of the rules from Power-Ups 5, but I may do a separate post at some time to note how I have used it.
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