FinalHavenLarp.com

*At some point, Donovan emerges from his room and places a leather-bound tome in front of Garret Maevers*

"I'm sorry my duties prevented me from completing that until now. I hope it helps your histories somewhat, but it is only the perspective of one man. Do with it as you will."

*OOG note: This is the entire journal, so those of you who have read the first 10 chapters will want to skip to Chapter 11 "Awakenings". Those of you who haven't read it (and feel like tolerating this much of my crap) are welcome to start at the beginning. Names and events are sure to be in err, but so is my (and thus Donovan's) memory. Enjoy!*

Journal

Part I: A Phantastic Welcome.

As I sit now to write this, I wonder at all that has transpired since my arrival in these lands. What had at first appeared to be my salvation was instead nearly my destruction and now stands as my source of greatest hope. Endless days of wandering the blasted wasteland have marred the memory of the life I once knew, and perhaps the shroud that covers much of my past brings clarity to that which I have experienced. I will attempt to recall the myriad events of the past few days. Should this malaise that covers my memory creep further through my mind, I will have some record of my introduction to the people of Phanterra.

The haze of pain and hardship covered my thoughts as surely as the dust of the road covered my boots when I first set eyes upon the distant glades of Phanterra. For a moment I thought my eyes had been deceived, but as the twisted trees surrounding me began to give way to healthier oaks and pines I came to my senses once again. The limitless expanse I had wandered had finally surrendered something new, and for that alone I was grateful. Running my hands through the cool grass and seeing the creatures of the forest once again was more than I had ever hoped for, and my sudden fortune made me wonder if I had succumbed to the wastes and was walking the fields of Elysium. Little did I know my newfound paradise was not a heaven, but a haven. A haven where a casual misstep might beckon heaven soon enough...

Following a trail that soon became a road, I happened upon a warrior donning his armor. It seemed he had spent the night in the open and was preparing to journey to the town I had spied just over the next hill. I took his willingness to rest exposed to mean that the lands were safe, and only later did I consider the idea that the woods might be perilous, but the town even more so. His manner was pleasant enough, and he introduced himself as Ben. He certainly looked an able fighter, and by the pack he carried one used to living on the move. I did find his sword to be a curious object. It's many bright colors were in contrast to the rest of his equipment, but I chose not to comment on it. Even in my garbled memory warriors are often sensitive to comments about their swords, and I didn't want to risk offending the first person I met. I was eager to see a town unspoiled by the cataclysm, so I left Ben to his gear and walked on ahead.

Setting my sights on what appeared to be the Inn, I made my way into civilization. The Inn itself was unremarkable, though the two gentlemen seemingly guarding it caught my attention immediately. One, I would later come to learn, was a Valkyn'Vi, and the other a Tsunotaur. Both were dressed for fighting, and I was suddenly very aware of the absence of my sword. Trying to put on the best face I could, I politely inquired about their health and the welfare of the town. The Tsunotaur barely acknowledged my presence, but the Valkyn'Vi took an immediate interest in my unannounced arrival. Though neither seemed the type for small talk, we spoke for a few moments before an awkward silence signaled to me the time for my departure. Fearing a bit for my safety, I turned away from the Inn and up a well traveled trail. It wound through the woods for a while and deposited me between two guildhalls. Both were dark, and I thought it best to observe things from a distance for a time, lest I meet with a colder welcome then I had at the Inn. A short distance into the woods I came upon a rusty but serviceable sword lying in the underbrush. A few moments of scrubbing revealed a respectable weapon, and I decided to take my chances at the Inn once again.

Upon my return both the Tsunotaur and the Valkyn'Vi were gone, and I made my way into the Inn. The few townsfolk in attendance quickly explained to me that there was no Barkeep, as he had met the same violent end seen by each of the Barkeeps before him. Once again concerned for my safety, I made my way outside courtesy of the back door.

Part II: A Matter of Time...

In the rear courtyard of the Inn I found a group of adventurers and several peasants discussing some sort of rescue operation. Among the adventurers stood Ben, who was by far the most friendly sort I had encountered since my arrival. The concept of rescuing someone in need appealed me greatly; not only as an honorable deed but also as a chance to gain some much needed allies. Wary of another chilly reception, I settled back against the Inn and listened to the conversation. Some confusion was evident between the peasants and the adventurers, as the peasants were thanking the adventurers for a deed that the adventurers claimed they had not done. The peasants were adamant that the deed had been done, and by the adventurers in question. Somewhere among the din, I heard the words "sorcery" and "time" uttered, and I began to realize that this town was more than it appeared. Until that very moment, my curiosity about this place being spared the ravages of the cataclysm had lain dormant within my mind, but their words awakened questions for which I had no answers.

Not wanting to be credited for something they had not done (or perhaps wanting not to neglect something they had already been given credit for) the adventurers made ready to set off into the forest. Deciding to take a chance, I caught Ben's eye and motioned for him to join me by the Inn. He did so, and I asked him about the group and their intentions. Seeing what I was hinting at, he invited me to join them on their trek, and I quickly agreed. Being in the company of several sturdy fellows did much to raise my spirits, even though we were marching into the unknown. Several of them, including the Lady Kathryn, the healer Dallid, a hunter known as Gideon, a mage named Eli, an elf called Corbyn, and Ben himself would become known to me as members of the Guild of Light. I found them to be excellent company, and was impressed by the way they investigated all that we discovered.

We found a series of arcane symbols etched into the earth, and received a clue concerning a couple of local farmers who may have been involved. We made a quick journey to the village to learn where we might find these farmers, and as several of us waited for information I noticed two figures making their way up the trail. The first caught my eye as the sunlight glinted off his armor, making him a beacon of steel in the otherwise soft scenery of the woods. He was dwarven, and clearly a man who knew his way around a battlefield. Next to him stood a woman who was everything he was not. As much as he glistened in his armor, she seemed to drink the light into her ebon skin. As much as he was barrel-wide and gruff, she was willow-thin and soft. She smiled from under her veil, and I was moved to speak with her. Her name was Nuk, which considering her Dark Elf heritage is likely short for something far more complicated. The Dwarf was called Kiel, and he was apparently in her employ as a bodyguard. Our brief conversation was pleasant, and as our group left I found myself thinking of Lady Nuk and her escort. My time in the wastes had dashed any thought of true companionship, but as we set out to find Farmer Johnny I found myself hoping that Kiel was indeed just a bodyguard...

Part III: Fertile Lands.

Our party decided to split into two groups in order to investigate both farmers in question at the same time. The Lady Kathryn, Dallid, Ben, Eli, and myself went in search of Farmer Johnny, and it wasn't long before we found ourselves greeting a plainly clothed man walking up the road to meet us. In talking to him, we discovered that his three children had been taken mysteriously a short time ago, and that he was eager to gain our aid in their recovery. From the discussion among my companions, some effort had already been undertaken to recover the children with no success. Farmer Johnny showed us the area where his children were supposedly drug away, but seemed to grow uneasy when we began to investigate nearer to his home and outbuildings. Seeing his change in demeanor, my companions began to grow suspicious of the good farmer, and I shared in their concern. We pressed him to allow us to search his barn, and after a time he reluctantly agreed.

Our initial search gained us nothing, but when we inquired about a passage we discovered behind a haystack, the farmer attacked. He fell upon Dallid first, but soon Ben, Kathryn, and I found ourselves fighting the farmer in earnest. The farmer quickly saw his disadvantage and fled, leaving us to explore his barn. Mere moments later he returned, seemingly dazed and wondering what was happening. Not trusting the situation, we confronted the farmer with the passageway once again, and once again he attacked. Kathryn fought him bravely, and I rushed to her aid. Time and again I delivered blows to the crazed farmer, but still he fought on. Kathryn, who had already taken such wounds as to lay me low twice over, stood against him and cut at him without mercy. His staff did not fail to find my flesh either, but in the end it was Eli's magic that ended the struggle. I took up the farmer's staff and our group returned to search the barn. Eli remained behind to see to the farmer, and I felt no guilt when I learned the farmer had died in his care.

The hidden passage revealed a strange machine to which the farmer's wife and children were attached. Their blood was being... harvested... from them and stored in vials and buckets around the room. It appeared that the farmer was keeping them alive in order to fertilize his crops with their vitae. We freed the mother and her children from the machine, and Dallid set about healing them. They all recovered, but the knowledge of her husband’s actions was too much for the woman, and she broke into fits of weeping and wailing. We were eventually able to comfort her enough to bring them all back to town, though their lives will never be the same. As we left the farm, we noticed just how well the crops in the area were flourishing. Not only the land owned by the late Farmer Johnny, but also all the surrounding farms seemed to be enjoying unprecedented prosperity. Curiosity got the better of me, and I took a bit of the crops and the soil they grew in. I suspected some kind of evil, but had not the skills to look into it further. Saving the samples in case I found someone who did, I followed my companions back to town.


Part IV: In Search of Answers... and a Root?

On our return, we discovered that the investigation of the other farmer had been fruitful as well. Though I never learned the exact details, some enchantment had been supposedly cast over the area, and the recovery of a very specific root would facilitate the removal of the spell. This spell was reportedly responsible for the strange disturbances in time that had been plaguing the area. Though I had no idea who was responsible for either the information or the spell, I already felt a sense of duty to the town and the people who lived there. I didn't particularly cherish the thought of the woman and children we just rescued meeting an "untimely" end either, so I joined the expedition to find the root. My spirits were raised to a great degree by the addition of Nuk, Kiel, and the Tsunotaur to our party. Both Kiel and the Tsunotaur were superb warriors, and I certainly had no objections to Nuk's company. As we set out, however, I couldn't help but feel that trek was going to be more than any of us bargained for.

Just as we put the town behind us and entered the forest, the people leading our party caught sight of figures ahead of us in the wood line. As we neared them, we saw more shapes drifting through the trees in an attempt to flank our position. Correctly assuming that the intentions of these folk were not friendly, we took up a defensive position and prepared to face the enemy. Shouts at the front of our column indicated bandits, and we engaged them swiftly. As luck would have it, we dispatched all but a few swiftly as well. The remaining few were no match for my companions, and soon we were on our way again. I took the opportunity to acquire some equipment from the fallen brigands, and I felt a great deal better with some extra steel hanging on my hip. I still was wielding the staff I had retrieved from the farmer, and I found the advantage of reach to be a great asset when fighting along the trails. Still, the feel of a sword on each hip is the kind of weight that makes the rest of the world seem lighter.

The bandits continued to harry us as we made our way deeper into the forest, and as they did I couldn't shake the feeling that they were keeping us from something. My fears were later confirmed when a brigand parlayed with us and confessed that he was just buying time for his friends. Sickened by their toying with us so, I took the lead and tried to urge my companions further into the woods. A short time later, we came across a group of townsfolk hunting for some great beast. At first I believed them to be in league with the bandits, but after hearing their story I simply thought them crazy. Again I took the lead, though my assertiveness nearly cost me my life.

A small distance up the trail I came upon a small clearing, and a second later my eyes caught the shape of an archer kneeling at the tree line. The Archer loosed his arrow, and only luck and fear saved me from its strike. My panic caused me to jump back, and the deadly shaft struck the ground where I had been standing. The Archer's eyes met mine, and for an instant we were frozen, trapped in that endless moment that has been the domain of footmen and bowmen since the earliest of days. I was here, with no means of harming him; he was there, with his bow unstrung and his next arrow at his hip. The stillness was broken by the motion of his hand and the beginning of my stride, both moving in concert to bring death upon the other. I felt a cry escape my throat as the short distance between us blurred into motion. As he drew back the bow I was upon him, though his arrow still struck true. Pain raged through my shoulder as my sword arm brought steel raining down upon him. Though I hewed at him, he found the strength to run. I chased him into the wood line as I heard the shouts of my companions racing up the path. The Archer chanced a look back at me, and in that moment a shape emerged from the brush the likes of which I had never seen. A huge beast, much like a dog or wolf, seized the Archer in its jaws and rent him asunder with one swift, horrible bite. Stunned, I considered attacking the creature, though I knew to do so would likely net me a share of the Archer's fate. As fortune would have it, the beast disappeared moments later. It let loose a roar that shook the woods and sped into the trees with alacrity that took my breath away.

It was in that state that my companions found me, aghast and staring into the woods. I described my encounter as best I could, but words could do no justice to the creature's size and power. It was decided to press on, though we had not seen the last of the beast. It killed twice again before it finally saw fit to deal with us as a group. Time and time again the strongest among us struck at it, and though its fur became drenched with blood it battled on. Finally we realized that only magic and enchanted weapons were having any effect, and as a whole we concentrated our efforts in that direction. Slowly, gradually, the beast weakened and fell; though we continued to strike at it well after it had ceased to move. Several minutes of trial with an enchanted weapon were required to free its head from its shoulders, but it was a task none of us wanted to leave unattended.

The fight with the beast had left us all wounded and many of us without the protection of our armor, so as a whole we opted to rest and try to patch ourselves up before continuing on. Dallid proved his worth yet again by using his healing arts to restore us to health, and both Keil and Eli used their armor working skills to make us ready for combat once more. As we made ready to continue, those who had gone ahead to scout reported that there were more figures among the trees ahead. Having seen the abilities of my companions, I made a decision. I was by far the most expendable of our number, and so I offered to take the lead. I planned on walking directly into whatever trap lie ahead, in hopes that when it sprung my companions would be better suited to defeat the enemy. Of all the things I expected to face, I was unprepared for a massive glowing wall.

As things happened, the wall was the least of our problems. Several statues were arrayed beyond it, and a circle with six stones lay before us. Knowing we needed to proceed, we began to examine the stones and cautiously manipulate them in hopes of removing the wall. As many of us had feared, the only thing we succeeded in doing was activating the trap into which we had so readily walked. The glowing walls surrounded us and the statues came to life and attacked. Our weapons were almost useless, and soon I realized the futility of the struggle. As I battled one of the stone monsters, I spied Gideon still crouching over the circle and stones. Seeing how poorly the fight was going, I dared to hope whatever he was doing might provide some reprieve from the statues' relentless assault. Spurred on by the chance of survival, I renewed my attacks on the stature before me. The thrill of battle was singing in my heart right up until I felt the blade pierce my skin. Breath abandoned my chest as the point of the statue's sword plunged into my side once again. One by once my senses retreated: first the pain of my wounds vanished, then the din of battle subsided, and finally, mercifully, the world went away.

When my eyes opened, it was Dallid's face I saw as he removed the empty salve from my lips. Seeing that I was awake, he nodded quickly and rushed off to tend to more of our injured. I lay silently for a moment, tending to my wounds as best I could. It pained me to watch my companions fighting without me, but I knew to rush back in would be foolish. One strike would send me back into the warm embrace of the earth, and Dallid might not be there to rouse me from that slumber once again. As soon as I thought I was able, I lurched to my feet and skirted the fighting to where I had seen Gideon working with the stones. He appeared to be placing them in some sort of pattern, and I had no interest in interrupting him. I turned my back to him and decided to offer what protection I could in case the statues saw fit to stop his puzzling. As I stood guard, I heard a cry of triumph from behind me. An instant later, the statues and walls all vanished as if they had never been. A cheer rose from my companions, and I added my voice to their celebration.

After some healing and repairs, we wearily made our way down the trail. We had fought battle after battle, but still lacked the object for which we came. I had to wonder if our quarry even existed when we rounded a bend and saw the object of our quest. Choosing to retrieve it as quickly as possible, several of our number surged forward to the spot in the trail where the root stood waiting. As they approached, monsters from within the earth itself rose up against them. Massive mole-like creatures tore at them from all sides, and soon we were fighting for our lives once again. The creatures were blind, though their keen sense of hearing and ability to dig within the earth made them dangerous enough a foe even without the gift of sight. Once again I found myself bleeding from countless wounds and doubting if I would survive. Fortune smiled upon me, however, and one of my companions managed to retrieve the root; therein allowing us to escape. We fled through the woods and up a steep hill until the mole-beasts were well behind us. Never before have I found the sight of an unfriendly Inn so welcome, but my eyes were glad to behold it once again as we staggered back into town. Exhausted, I sought rest and food near one of the Guildhalls apart from the Inn. Having nearly perished twice, I thought it best to cease the day’s exploits and think on my situation. Little did I know the realm of Phanterra had other plans...

Part V: A Visitor at Dinner.

I made a fire to cook some of the meager stores I had managed to retain during my travels and thought greatly about the things I had seen. I had left my companions almost immediately upon reaching town and had not even bothered to learn of the results of our journey. I was alive, and thereby counted the quest a successful endeavor. I was also tired, hungry, and in great need of time to sort out my opinions of Phanterra. Some much needed food and a few minutes off of my feet were all I could manage before I saw a silhouette approaching through the fading light. Silently hoping to avoid a fight, I invited the man to join me at the fire and share in my meal. He dressed the part of a warrior, though some of the gear he sported made me wonder what sort of fighter he was. A few moments of conversation revealed that he was a Vampire Hunter, which served both to confirm my suspicions about his manner of dress and worry me greatly.

Though I knew very little about Vampire Hunters, it seemed likely that their primary occupation would be hunting vampires; thereby suggesting that the presence of a Vampire Hunter might indicate the presence of a Vampire. I immediately explained the scene I had witnessed at Farmer Johnny's earlier that day. Perhaps the farmer's machine and the vampire were simply coincidence, but there seemed to be a lot of blood-related dangers cropping up, and I preferred to err on the side of caution. Remembering a conversation from earlier that day, I also explained that the Valkyn'Vi I had seen outside the Inn was planning on destroying the farmer's blood harvesting device. The Hunter seemed intrigued, and asked me to inform him if I heard or saw anything else. I answered that I would be more than happy to do so, provided he keep me informed as well. While I didn't particularly want to know the intricate details of a vampire hunt, I thought it better than not knowing and being in the wrong place at the wrong time. As I watched him meld back into the darkness from whence he came, I couldn't shake the feeling that the night was far from over. In what I remember of my past I had always been the type to embrace whatever fate threw at me, and with that in mind I donned my sword and returned to town.

Part VI: New Friends, New Enemies.

The Inn was nearly deserted when I arrived a short time later, but a fire had been lit in the pit outside and I settled in to warm myself at its flames. A female Valkyn'Vi was tending to the blaze but seemed absorbed in her own thoughts and none too receptive to conversation. The last glimmer of twilight gave way to true night as I sat relishing the sweet mix of cool air and soft heat that can only be found around a fire. Deprived of any illumination save the fire and the heavens, the forest took on a visage of slumber. Peaceful to the eye, but certainly alive and cloaking all sorts amidst its branches. Such were my thoughts when I saw the Vampire Hunter striding into the firelight. I greeted him, and he joined me at the table. He had yet to find his Vampire, but he had a couple of parchments that he said I might find of interest. The story he told was that he had acquired them from a dwarf after a night of drinking, and both seemed to be cryptic in nature. One was penned in a language I had never seen before, while the other was written in an archaic form of the language spoken in the lands of my birth. The archaic scroll spoke of a prophecy, and its lines told of a Wyrm and the means of its destruction. I could make no sense of the other, but the first intrigued me greatly.

We were discussing the possibilities the scrolls suggested when the adventurers began streaming into the clearing. Many were members of the Guild of Light, but others I had never seen. Of particular interest was a group of Orcs that seemed to be bickering with each other about the exact events of the battle they were returning from. The short female Orc was arguing with the large male Orc about his performance in battle (and, disturbingly, in other areas best left unmentioned). After speaking with a few of them, I discovered that they had gone off to deal with a Dragon and had entered into some sort of arrangement with it to aid the town. The Orcs vehemently denied having anything to do with the deal brokered with the Dragon, though the members of the Guild of Light indicated that some promise had indeed been made. Though I wouldn't learn of it till later, the guild apparently promised to provide the Dragon with gold, silver, and quicksilver for some sort of ritual. My mind turned immediately to the Vampire Hunters' scroll, and seeing that some of the Guild members might be able to provide further insight, the Hunter proffered it for them to examine. Among the adventurers was the male Valkyn'Vi I had seen when I first arrived, and he seemed to take great interest in the Vampire Hunter and his reasons for traveling to these lands. While neither the Vampire Hunter nor the Valkyn'Vi were willing to speak openly, they did speak of the machine in Farmer Johnny's barn. The Valkyn'Vi reported that the machine had been disassembled and scattered throughout the forest. When the Vampire Hunter asked the location of the pieces, a palpable tension entered the air. Fearing conflict, I attempted to outline the many serious threats that had arrayed themselves against the people of this realm and point out that unity would be necessary to overcome them. The Vampire Hunter left without incident, but the Valkyn'Vi remained and shared his suspicions about the Hunter with me. For a moment, I felt relieved that a fight had been avoided and grateful that the Valkyn'Vi felt comfortable enough to speak to me of such things, but as I spoke to him I sensed a darkness about him that had nothing to do with the time of day. He left shortly afterwards, and I was happy to see him go.

The remaining members of the Guild of Light excused themselves and returned to their Guildhall, leaving myself, the Orcs, and the female Valkyn'Vi at the fire. The female Orc had overheard my conversation with the Vampire Hunter and had mistaken me for a scholar. Laughing, I explained to her that I was not a truly learned man, but just a fellow who chose to listen to the wisdom around me. She responded by asking me where to find such wisdom, and I answered by saying that wisdom could be found anywhere. During our conversation, I discovered that Orcs are full of questions. They take nothing for granted, and in doing so see things that more "civilized" people might miss. It struck me that lying to an Orc would be a difficult (and likely painful) proposition. As we spoke, the simple honesty of their Orcish ways made me glad of their company. Their observations held nothing back, and I dubbed the female my "font of Orcish wisdom"; a moniker that pleased her greatly. I learned that she was called Grok, and that the larger of the two males was known as Jux. The third Orc, Vug, who may have been Grok’s brother, had introduced them and both Grok and her husband appeared unhappy about their union. I got the impression that their constant quarreling might be some form of Orcish affection, but I wouldn't hazard a guess as to the real nature of their relationship. My name was quickly shortened from "Donovan" to "Dono", and it was explained to me that Human names were too complex for Orcish tastes. I took the new name as a measure of their friendship, and as such was happy to be "Dono" in their minds.

Part VII: From Smoke and Light...

We were still seated by the fire when Grok made some comment about smoke and red lights among the trees. Thinking her to be speaking about the firelight, I agreed and thought little more of it. When she mentioned them again, however, I noticed that she was looking over my shoulder and away from the fire. Glancing behind me, I saw the end of the field opposite the Inn was shrouded in smoke. Billowing white waves were rising from the center of the clearing, and flashes of light appeared from within the massing clouds. Rising from the table, I told my companions I intended to get a closer look. The Orcs needed no invitation and fell in behind me as we walked toward the strange phenomenon. We had only gone a few paces when the flashes of light became more frequent, and seconds later the entire cloud was bright with pulsing white light. With the smell of brimstone in the air, I felt my grip tightening on my sword. A shrill cry broke the night like glass, and from the smoke and light creatures spilled onto the field. Beastly cats, dogs, and lizards that walked like men poured out of the haze and charged all of those who stood before the Inn. Though none of us had been in these lands more than a day, we met their charge as one and sought to defend the inn from any who would assail it. My Orcish friends proved powerful allies indeed, and they butchered all who came before them. My sword sang as well, and time and again I buried it into the bodies of the frenzied beasts. As we fought, I realized that numbers were against us. The blood on my blade was minimal matched to the blood spilling from my skin, and I knew it to be folly to remain. Sparing a last look at my Orcish friends, I turned and ran into the night.

Weak though I was, I feared that my allies would fall without aid. I had no idea what other beasts might lie within the smoke, and I knew even a minor wound would lay me low. Through the night I ran, blindly seeking the trail that would take me to the Guildhalls atop the hill. I trusted fate to keep me safe within the darkness and let my feet carry me as swiftly as they were able. Seeing the light of the Guildhalls, I stopped at the first and pulled open the door. Two men, (who I would later come to know as Atrum and Roland) leapt to their feet as I told them of the creatures besieging the Inn. Leaving them, I ran to the second Guildhall and pounded on the door. This guild, the Guild of Light, quickly sent its members to my aid, and soon a number of warriors were following me back to town. As the light of the fire became visible through the trees, my heart sank in my chest. I could hear nothing of the sounds of battle and feared my friends had fallen before the creatures assault. The smoke was still thick, and the acrid smell of sulfur permeated the night air. As fortune would have it, my estimation of the Orcs fighting abilities was greatly understated. They had turned back the creatures and saved the Inn, and I was filled with pride in my new friends. Dallid, who along with Gideon and several others had come from the Guild of Light, healed all the wounds taken in defense of the Inn. Gideon set out to track down the source of the creatures, and all of us took a moment to regroup.

Part VIII: Waves of Death.

Just when we began to think the worst was over; more shapes became visible in the distance. Unlike the creatures before, these did not speed across the field; but instead came on slowly. From one of the townspeople the cry of "Skeletons!" was heard, and I then knew we faced the walking dead. Once again I took up my sword, and once again I fought to defend a land of strangers. As my blade met bone and rotten sinew, I felt something stir within me for the first time since my arrival. Seeing my Orcish friends lay about with their clubs and bludgeons, seeing the Guildsmen fighting for their home, I felt a sense of belonging; a sense of duty and kinship to those at my side. I again felt the blood seeping from my flesh, but fought on uncaring. I could not fail those around me, and to fall here, in defense of something good, was a better fate than a lifetime spent in search of something worth dying for. With one skeleton on either side I knew it was only a matter of time before they struck true, but I stood my ground regardless. I could hear Grok fighting behind me, and knew that to run or escape would be to leave her back undefended. Accepting my fate, I lashed out at the skeletons until the earth rose up to meet me. Content, I waited for the darkness to claim me, knowing that I had given my life for something worthy, but the darkness never came. I felt the warmth of healing energy flow through me, and Dallid once again secured the spark within my soul.

I rose to find many of my companions wounded from the fighting, but all were still alive. The joy I knew at seeing them was short lived, however, as yet another mob of skeletons descended upon the town. Like great waves of death they met our blades, each crest of grinning skulls wearing away at us and promising a rising tide of blood and bone. Again my wounds overcame me, and again Dallid held me fast to this mortal coil. The salve he poured into me gave me the strength to stand, but little more. When I regained my feet, I heard the call to retreat to the Inn.

Staggering, I evaded the blows of the undead hordes and nearly fell through the back door. I saw Corbyn and two town guards fighting against still more undead outside, and though I wished to help them, I instead stumbled to a bunk and began to treat my wounds. Corbyn joined me moment later, followed by a group of skeletons slashing at his heels. We fought among the bunks, with his spear keeping the skeletons at bay and my sword keeping them from stopping his spear. After a perilous battle we dispatched the last of them and sealed the Inn. As I tried once again to treat my wounds, I heard the sound of fists hammering on the walls of the Inn. The undead had surrounded the building and were letting us know that we were trapped within its walls. Beams of light sliced through the windows and held anyone they touched motionless for as long as they continued to shine. It was decided that our only hope was to annihilate the creatures completely, and as soon as we were healed we marched out the front door.

The undead had fallen back into yet another wave, and we met them with a crash of steel. Seeing the futility of battling wave after wave of walking dead, I skirted the fighting and ran to the far side of the field. I was hoping to discover where the undead were coming from, and there among the shadows walked a man in thick robes. Not knowing who he was, I warned him of the dangers in the night and asked his name. When he answered, I could hear the madness and power in his voice. I demanded that he return with me to the Inn, but he flatly refused. I gave him a final warning and told him that I would not ask again, after which he called up skeletons from the earth to fight against me. Knowing that I could not stand alone against so many, I called to my companions that I had found the source of the undead horde and ran to meet them. We fought through the skeletons as swiftly as we could and made ready to face their master. We struck at him, but he only laughed and vanished into a column of smoke and fire. He left us with many wounds, but more painful still was the knowledge that we had not seen the last of him.

Part IX: Murder Most Foul.

Retiring to the Inn once again, many of us felt the urge for strong drink. Resting for a moment in comparative safety, I had the chance to speak with some of my companions for the first time. I found them to be warmer than I had just that very morning, and perhaps that speaks to the brotherhood one feels when fighting alongside someone. A call of an attack outside sent many of us scrambling towards the fire pit, but was mercifully only a strange man coming to warm himself by the fire. As I turned back towards the Inn in hopes of continuing my conversation inside, I spied Arthos and Corbyn talking to an Elf near the fire. Curious, I approached them and heard word of a possible attack by the Dark Elves before the night was out. We spoke for a moment before the Elf excused himself and Arthos made his way back to the guildhall.

I still stood outside the Inn speaking with Corbyn and Gideon when a town guardsman ran into view. He spoke of an attack near the Guildhalls, and suddenly we were on the move again. We ran up the trail to the Guildhalls and found another town guard arguing with the male Valkyn'Vi and some of his companions. It appeared at first to be an attempted arrest, but the tone of their voices carried more than just the rule of law. There was something significant transpiring, and fighting broke out among those gathered there. In the darkness I saw little of what happened, but I later spoke to many who were present and pieced together what occurred. It seems that the night before I arrived in these lands a murder took place. A woman named Elus was killed by several men for reasons unknown, but the consequences of this heinous crime were more severe than any of her killers had bargained on.

Though I know not how, it appeared that Elus had been restored to life and had described the details of her own murder to her allies. Rumors abounded about how she had been restored to life, (some even said that she had been reincarnated as a man!), but the knowledge that four murderers were stalking the night had been too much for a man called Roland. It was explained to me that Roland was the head of a house to which much of the town belonged, and that he had some connection to the lady Elus. He and Atrum (the master of the third guild) had set out to avenge Elus' murder in the guise of town guardsmen. They had been able to track down three of the four men responsible when the fight to which I was witness occurred. I also learned that the male Valkyn'Vi had been one of those responsible for the murder, and that he had been incapacitated during the combat. As Roland and Atrum fought on, Dallid happened upon the fallen Valkyn'Vi and healed him, allowing him to escape. When he learned of this, Roland attacked Dallid in a fury. Only the interference of the townspeople en masse stopped Roland from killing Dallid, who is a truly pacifistic healer. In the end, Roland regained his senses and a tally was taken. One of the four men was held prisoner within the Guild of the Light, but two others had escaped. Of the fourth, I am not certain, but I believe that he met justice at the hands of Roland and Atrum. Sadly, the dark elf Nuk was also held prisoner within the guildhall. She later told me she was traveling with the male Valkyn'Vi when Roland and Atrum made their arrest, and had attacked Roland in an attempt to defend her so-called friends. Though she was later released, her situation made clear to me the need for unity among the good people of these lands. As we waited to hear of the fate of the killers, I spoke to the Orcs, Nuk, Gideon, and later both Roland and Atrum about the need for agreement between the guilds and cooperation among the people. All agreed, and I remembered something that Arthos had said about a council. I suggested that some sort of council be convened to address the myriad threats to the land, and offered to aid such an effort in any way I could. Many nodded their agreement, but no one spoke of making it a reality.

Part X: The Seed is planted.

On Roland's suggestion we returned to the Inn, and we encountered Dallid on the path back to town. He and Roland spoke of the fight with the Valkyn'Vi, and in the end they agreed to disagree. I remained a moment after the others had gone, as I had wanted to speak to Dallid alone. The man had saved my life no fewer than three times since the last rising of the sun, and I wanted him to know I understood what he had done. His belief makes him who he is, and though I may believe otherwise, I respect him for his convictions. After I had said my piece I continued on to the Inn, where the taste of wine was sweeter than ever. Given the chance for conversation, I spoke with Gideon at great length, and discovered him to be a truly unique man among men. His ways, while foreign to me, ring of a truth unmarred by conditions or politics. I quickly grew to admire him, and he seemed among the most receptive to my call for a council. Later, during a conversation with Arthos and Corbyn near the fire pit, he advocated my proposal and nominated me to serve as a mediator. I had offered to perform such a duty earlier in the night, but his bringing it forward honored me greatly. Atrum later joined our discussion, along with a man called Leeland and his cousin Ashe. As we tried to figure out a course of action for the town, the idea of creating an office to unite the people was suggested. This individual would serve as an elder and constable, ensuring justice and cooperation between the citizens and guilds. Though the exact duties and powers were left vague, all were in agreement that such a person was needed. Once again Gideon nominated me to fill the role, and to my great surprise many nodded their assent. My lack of allegiance to a guild, friendship with the Orcs, and actions in defense of the town that day had made me an attractive selection in the eyes of those gathered there. It was agreed that a council be convened in the morning to establish such a position, with the idea that I fill it.

I slept that night, and though my dreams were filled with nightmares they paled in comparison to the horrors that awaited me in the waking world. Arguing townspeople, time warping magic, bloodletting farmers, missing murders, Dark Elf raiders, Vampires, and a favor owed to a Dragon stalked the day, and nothing my slumbering mind could conjure was as frightening as the day promised to be. When I awoke, I made my way to the Inn and shortly afterwards the council was called. It was brief, but it was agreed that I be made constable/elder of the land. I quickly enlisted the aid of my Orcish friends as my men- (and woman) at-arms, and now find myself writing this journal. I have gone from stranger, to protector, to chosen defender with the passing of a single day. Likewise, Phanterra has gone from a world unknown, to a land of peril, to my home. I don't know if I have the strength to see these people through the times ahead, but I am certain of this: any who would threaten the people or the peace of Phanterra. will find me in their way. By my heart, by my name, by my very soul, I swear it so. More of my blood lies within this land than within my body, and I will not cede an inch to darkness. May the light once again shine...



Part XI: Awakenings

But a scant few moons. A scant few moons, and so much has changed.

When my pen last swept across this page, I was still fresh from the wastes. Many of my memories were still hidden behind mists and shadows, lost to my waking mind. I was in a place of hope, surrounded by steadfast companions who had chosen me to help them ensure justice in a land of brutal cruelty. I knew nothing of the dangers facing this Haven, save that the stalwart hearts and brave deeds of those who fought for righteousness could surely overcome them. I knew nothing of my life before the wastes, though I fancied myself a learned philosopher, or perhaps a writer of stories. I knew nothing.

Now how I wish I could know nothing once again.

My reintroduction to truth began the night Ovak called the people of the Haven to council. I had arrived early for the meeting, and sat waiting in the Inn when five men walked through the front door. Cloaked but clearly dressed for war, I knew in an instant that something was different about them. There were not local men, and I knew of no adventurers that fit their description. As they stepped into the firelight, the knot of suspicion and concern that I had felt about their arrival vanished as a chill ran down my spine. I knew these men.

Even as I sat there, unmoving and agape at the faces arrayed before me, names began bubbling up from my forgotten past. Images of the tall elf, Curufin, darting around a foe to open his defenses to a swordstrike; glimpses of mischief in Kabre’s eyes as he loosed a shot from his deadly crossbow; the memory of Valane casting down his spear and hurling white fire at a towering fiend; the notion of Brikal eerily ghosting from tree to tree and melting into darkness, and the sight of Drake diving in front of a blazing orb all flooded my mind.

These were fighting men.

Their voices reached my ears, and I heard them ask for a man called Donovan. My own name, though I had never forgotten it, rung like a bell inside my head. I whispered it to myself, as if trying to remember the feel of it passing across my lips. Donovan Thynedar. Something seemed missing, as if the incompleteness in my mind was imposed on my name as well.

I stood then, taking a few brief strides toward the men. They noticed my approach immediately, and a sense of warmth arose from somewhere deep inside me. I saw no threat in their wariness, but instead felt… pride? Recognition played across their faces, and I knew my murky visions had not been works of fancy.

These were fighting men, and they knew me.

They greeted me as an old friend, and in the dancing gleam of Atrum’s hearth I saw the emblem etched across their armor: a rising phoenix of pure silver set across an azure field. I grasped their hands and drew them close, dazed by the intersection of my two lives. Smiles and pleasantries faded, and Drake’s eyes grew hard as he and the others took on an air of formality. When he spoke, his voice carried more weight then his slight frame seemed capable of holding.

“You left this when you disappeared, Donovan. We've carried it ever since..." Slipping a hand underneath his cloak, he brought a long, cloth wrapped package into the flickering firelight. It was curved slightly, looking like a shadowy crescent in the dim light of the Inn. Something about it seemed to resonate, like the mere appearance of its shape was stirring something deep within me. As Drake unwrapped it, I realized I was holding my breath. When the wrappings slid to the floor, Drake was holding a gleaming silver blade. It seemed to burn with incandescent fire, and when Drake extended it the pommel to me, my hand leapt for the hilt.

As my hand closed around the blade, its familiar weight poked at the miasma in my mind. The steel, cool and smooth against my skin, seemed to slash at the haze inside my head until finally my eyes caught the inscription etched into the blade. "Power through Honor" was written down one side, "Might by Right" adorned the reverse, and as I read them the hold on my memory was strained to the point of breaking. The aches of wounds long forgotten seeped into my flesh, and scars that before held no meaning now sent echoes of pain up my spine. Trembling, I held the crosspiece of the sword up, knowing what I would see. The sapphire phoenix was as I remembered it, wings flared to form the catches on either side of the blade. It was Lightstorm, the blade held by the commander of the Order since its inception, and it was truly beautiful.

It was also too much. The mindfog burned away as if caught in the noonday sun.

Memories played across my consciousness like troops marching for inspection: riding my horse Falchion on my father's estate, joining the Order of the Phoenix and training with the men of the Guard, earning my first command at Harrison's Breach, leading the Guard against Ulzahuk the Fallen, right up to trying to outrun the cataclysm with Prince Addison's tiny form held tight against my chest. Then the roaring blackness, then nothing. My voice cracked as I spoke to the men before me... my men.

"I couldn't remember... who, or what I was. I... think I remember now." With each passing minute, things became clearer.

"Really?' asked Kabre, lighting his pipe and looking every part the dour dwarf I remembered him to be, 'So, who exactly are you?"

Before I knew it, I had slipped into the formal bow of the court in which I was raised. Holding my blade aloft, I answered in a fashion befitting my former station.

"I am Donovan Thynedar, servant of the Light, Knight of the Azure Cross, Commander of the Phoenix Guard, and now Constable to the community of Final Haven." The last was new to them, but none of them appeared to flinch at the addition.

"Well, at least he hasn't lost his mind completely,' quipped Curufin as he laid an intricate suit of armor on the rough hewn table, 'and thanks to us, he hasn't lost his gear either."

Valane snickered as he added a set of bracers to the armor. "Yeah, Cap. Next time you want us to follow you across a nearly endless wasteland, the least you could do is carry your own stuff."

"No kidding!' joked Brikal, resting a swordbelt and sheath next to the growing pile on the table, 'You were never that hard to track when you knew what you were doing. If we ever need to sneak around anywhere, maybe we should knock you on the head."

They all laughed then, and it was like a salve had been applied to my soul. I couldn't stop looking at them, as if I feared they would vanish if I looked away.

My men, my friends, had followed me across the wasteland of the cataclysm. Though I had made many friends since I had arrived in Final Haven, these men were part of my past, part of me. I was no longer alone.

"So now what, Cap?' inquired Drake as he lowered himself into a chair, 'Are we still an order? I mean, are we still the Phoenix Guard?"

Scowling, Curufin threw one of his gloves at Drake, hitting him square in the chest. "Drake, you retard. Of course we're still an order."

"Yeah,' said Kabre, 'Though I don't know what we're going to do with ourselves. A place like this can't be as bad as the wastes."

Valane laughed a bit, saying, "True enough. Without some big world ending evil cropping up every week or so, we'll be bored to tears."

Then it was my turn to laugh.

"Actually, gentlemen...' I chuckled as I began sorting through the pieces of my newly-regained armor, 'Considering what I've seen of Final Haven, I don't think we'll be bored at all..."

Part XII: Mistrust

As it happens, I was right. We weren’t bored at all.

The other members of the Phoenix Guard and I were offered little chance to renew our friendship before we were once again called upon to defend the Haven from an encroaching evil.

Curufin, Kabre, Valane and I were enjoying a drink when Brikal and Drake sprinted into the common room to inform us of strange shapes staggering into the village. We quickly gathered our numbers and took up arms in defense of the people, and as we did so I felt a strangely familiar sensation of calm. Unlike the other battles I had been in since my arrival in the Haven, I felt no terror at the thought of the coming fight. There was an excitement of sorts, and a wary cautiousness that came with the fatal consequences of failure, but no dread or apprehension. It seemed… routine.

As I stepped into the blanketing night, the slightly lighter shade of the starry horizon revealed huge shapes ambling toward the Inn. Sensing no friendly intent, those of us gathered at the Inn arrayed ourselves for battle. Misshapen men, or more specifically the magically animated parts of men, appeared in the light of our torches, and within seconds the battle was on. Many of us fought fiercely, and with Roland and Ka both cleaving huge wounds through their stitch-marked flesh, we expected the monstrosities would soon fall or flee from our defenders.

They did neither.

Within minutes, even our strongest were weakened by their relentless attack. Many of us fell back into the Inn, and did our best to heal the wounds inflicted by the creatures outside. Ka bravely ventured out alone in an attempt to draw the creatures away from the doorway, but even his formidable skills were soon overwhelmed. As his limp form slid across the Inn floor, I realized just how close we were to losing both the Inn and our lives.

Our fortunes seemed to turn for the better when two men appeared out of the night, seemingly wandering into the fray. They claimed to have the knowledge to stop the creatures, and in our need we accepted them into the Inn. Though I have no such abilities, I was under the presumption that those present tested the truth of their claims and knew the intent of their magics. Looking back on it now, I would guess that such measures were overlooked in favor of an expeditious solution. In hindsight, such trust was much in err, and is not a mistake I intend on repeating.

Regardless, we defended the two men as they completed their long ritual, upon the completion of which the floor of the Inn split asunder, revealing the desiccated corpse of a man lying deep within the earth. A putrid light erupted from the hole, and the corpse rose up from the ground, restoring itself as it came into view. By the time his feet came to rest on the floor before us, a tall man with narrow features and sunken eyes regarded us all with an air of indifference. We would come to learn his name was Florin, and that he was the master of the men who raised him, who in turn were the masters of the creatures besieging the Inn. We had been used – fooled into aiding in the restoration of a great evil. Our attempts to dispatch him on the spot met with powerful magical resistance, and they left us gaping as they vanished into the night.

The next day brought a visit to the Cult of Io, supposedly a group that knew much about Florin and possessed some counter to his magic. Sadly, we found the Cult had been dispatched well before our arrival, ambushed and cut down while they slept. Both Dallid and Grok made some inquiry into the circumstances of their deaths, but neither seemed able to ascertain the identity of those responsible. The next day offered no further answers, and as darkness approached the people of the Haven came together to deal with another threat whose time had come.

Part XIII: The end from the beginning...

As night deepened around us, the stalwart defenders of Final Haven stood ready to strike out against the corruption that had befallen time itself. Gathering our numbers and our strength, we all listened to the stories of our sages. Their words helped to prepare us for the fight ahead, and even as we listened those gifted in the arcane arts cast their magic circles to protect us against the dark powers sure to be arrayed against us. Looking around at the armed and armored adventurers making ready for war, I felt a sense of pride in my companions. The Guild of Light, my own Phoenix Guard, and especially those like Atrum and Nuk - who owed their alliegience to no one - all were prepared to wager their lives to set things aright. True, it was in their interest to do so, but I still saw nobility in their actions.

When we began, it was logical that Ashe would remain close to the sundial and that Ka, Arthos, Curufin, and Kabre would remain near her. Our troop marched quickly into the night, though it was not long before we ran into opposition. Men and monsters threw themselves at our column, trying to prevent us from reaching our goal. While we were able to fight off the attacks, we immediately feared that they were simply delaying us, trying to allow a more insidious foe to prepare for our arrival.

Quickening our pace, we streamed down the trail toward our objective. Perhaps our estimation of the enemy’s intent was correct, as we were soon set upon by a vampire of incredible power. Atrum, Corbyn, Azara, and I fell behind the group with the sundial in our attempt to deal with the creature, thus allowing the others to continue toward the goal. I found myself grateful for the enchantment of our arcanes, for when the vampire engaged us, it held a ball of eerie energy in its hand. Knowing that hesitation would only give it the chance to gather more of its foul power, I charged the creature with Lightstorm held high. A wicked smile flashed across the vampire's shadowed face, and with only a few strides left between us it hurled the pulsing orb of light, striking me in the shoulder with incredible force. Had it not been for the protections placed on me before our battle began, I likely would have fallen from the currents of dark energy surging through my being. Because of the shield, however, the sickly light diffused harmlessly in the air around me, leaving the vampire and I locked in deadly combat. With Lightstorm slashing at his form, the vampire countered with a spear whose ghostly tip and frigid blade passed through my armor without so much as slowing down. Just as my wounds were making flight imperative, Atrum appeared at my side and began attacking the vampire so furiously that the undead beast gave ground to his onslaught. I fought alongside him for a moment, but a cry from behind me caught my attention. Some of our number were injured by the trail, and without aid might soon perish. I chafed at the thought of leaving Atrum's side, but it appeared his prowess with the spear might grant me enough time to tend to those on the trail. Indeed, Atrum was eventually able to drive the creature away and all of those comprising the rearguard were able to be saved.

By the time we were able to rejoin the group bearing the sundial, they had nearly reached our objective. As our sages began to set things aright, the land around us shifted and time itself appeared to ebb and flow around us. We found ourselves fighting in what I believed to be the past, trying to prevent the problem with time from ever occurring. A man who I knew as Joseph was there, sitting in some sort of circle surrounded by a nimbus of shielding energy. We thought him to be in opposition to us, but we could find no way through his shield to stop him. When he finally did emerge, he flung a huge ball of fire at Drake and would have burnt him to a cinder if not for the enchantment of protection activating and channeling the deadly fire away from him. To the shock of all who witnessed it, however, Joseph simply sneered at Drake and threw a second searing ball of flame. No one knew of any spellcaster who was capable of holding so much energy, and having expended the protecting enchantment, Drake was burned almost beyond recognition. Stunned, we all watched as his limp, smoldering form fell to the ground. Mere seconds later Dallid was at his side, and through some miracle of healing managed to keep Drake tethered to this world long enough for his flesh to be mended.

Steel and magic swirled around us in a deadly exchange, and the people of Haven fought hard and well for their safety, their friends, and their future. We were eventually able to bring down Joseph, who we learned might have been also known as the Master, and restore the sundial to its proper function. As the last of those attacking us fell, a great cheer was heard from the defenders of Haven. We had faced the Master, the forces of some great Warlord, and traveled back through time to emerge victorious in our own. Together we carried our wounded back to the Inn, and were within sight of town when the vampire appeared again. Weary but resolute, we turned on the creature with a vengeance. Dallid and the vampire exchanged energies again and again, until finally the wounds dealt by our warriors and Dallid's magic rent the foul undead apart. Further still up the trail Atrum collapsed, though I do not know for what reason. Seeing nothing I or the other Phoenix Guard could do to aid him and realizing that the village was largely unprotected, I sent the men on ahead to protect the town and his Inn. He recovered without incident, and we drank a salute to our success.

Part XIV: No rest for the righteous

I lay down in my bunk that night, and with the events of the day still fresh in my mind, sleep was long in coming. Despite some arguments with Grok about property, the community was beginning to work together and gain some ground against the forces arrayed against us. I made a note to try and understand the Orcish perspective on ownership and regain her trust. She seemed somehow betrayed by my taking opposition to her acquisition of some equipment from one of the Guard. Somewhere in the mix of combat, she had found an item or two that had been cast aside while fighting and declared them hers. She made some reference to Orc custom, but appeared to me to be greedy and self interested. It was later pointed out to me that I should be more understanding of the ways of other cultures, and that maybe Grok had thought herself in the right for insisting on ownership. I disagreed, and she thought my decision was based on bias toward my men instead of fairness as I understood it. Nowhere in my experience as a leader of men was I ever taught that the misplaced weapons of one's companions were fair game for right of salvage, nor would it ever be considered honorable to keep an item found in battle after the owner had asked for its return, but perhaps they were taught differently. Still, I wondered if they were going to make such efforts at understanding as far as our customs were concerned. The argument had left me feeling separated from my Orcish friends, but I hoped that once they came to know my men we all could work together in defense of the Haven. I made plans to draft a set of laws that would, in time, allow all people in the Haven to live in peace regardless of culture or upbringing. When sleep finally claimed me, I was harboring a delicate hope that we might someday bring security to this troubled land.

I would soon learn that the beasts of Haven have a way of sniffing out - and then snuffing out - hope. Had I realized that fact sooner, perhaps I would have awoken to something other than the rending of my own flesh.

The bliss of sleep was torn away as a thorny projection pierced my chest, followed swiftly by razor-like vines whipping at my legs. The shock of such an awakening quickly fading from my mind, I took up Lightstorm and began hacking my way out of bed. The plants were everywhere, and could hear scuttling sounds and screams coming from elsewhere in the Inn. Fear for my friends gave my blade new speed, and I fought the creatures back out into the hallway. I could see the beetle creatures then, similar to the ones we had fought in search of a mysterious Druid that had been antagonizing the town. Beyond them, I could see a great hole in the floor of the Inn where the vines were writhing and snaking their way down the hallway. Shouts of pain and alarm were coming from the other rooms, but no one else had been able even stand as yet, much less fight their way into the hall. Seeing that I needed to buy enough time for the others to rally, I set my sights on the hole ahead, raised my blade high, and attacked.

Slashing my way through the vines, I came upon the first of the beetle creatures and quickly managed to dispatch it. Closer now to the hole, I could see what appeared to be some great plant-mouth that was perhaps the source of the vines and the invasion. Cleaving another beetle in twain, I spared a look over my shoulder in hopes that some of the others had fought their way free.

No one was there.

Still trapped, my friends were in danger of being torn apart in their bunks. There was no choice to make. I threw myself at the mass of vines and let Lightstorm sing as I cut them to ribbons. I was making headway when I heard Curufin's voice call out from the hallway.

"Donovan! Behind you!"

I turned, but too late. One of the beetle creatures had been in the rooms terrorizing one of the members of the Guard. When I went past to engage the plants, it had an open shot at my back. Even as I spun to face it, I felt its claws and pincers tearing through my skin. Staggering, I felt the strength drain from my limbs and my legs refused to allow me to remain standing. Crashing to the floor, I felt Lightstorm slip from my hand as the beetle gouged again and again into my wounded back. Just before my legs went numb I felt the vines wrap around them, dragging me backwards across the floor. Light receded from my vision twice in rapid succession: first when I was pulled into the hole, and again when oblivion claimed me.

Part XV: Captivity

When I next awoke, I found myself deep within the ground. Thinking for a moment that I was dead and buried, I was content to lie in the embrace of the mother and wait for the gates of Elysium to open before me. Only the immense pain that crept into my back and limbs as I became aware of my surroundings convinced me that I was still alive. Keeping my breathing even and not moving a muscle, I began to channel the Light through my limbs, healing my wounds and restoring my life's energies. Though some practice medicine or herbalism to heal, and others call on shamanistic magics or the energies of the Circle, the healing I had learned involved something else entirely. Within all things, within all acts of goodness and mercy, there lies a light that opposes the darkness. From it all virtue stems, and it is without question the most powerful force in all creation. On occasion, living things can transcend their mortal limitations and touch the Light, and when they do acts of legendary greatness are sure to follow. Others, like myself, have learned to channel tiny portions of the light through themselves to heal wounds and the ailments of themselves and those around them.

As my skin and sinew knit back together, I allowed my eyelids to slowly open enough to see where I was. All I saw was earth, and for an instant I feared I had been buried alive. Collecting myself, I took a more detailed look at my surroundings and found that while I was in the earth, I was not exactly buried. I was in a cell of sorts, carved out of the ground and just large enough for me to lie down in. The open wall was covered by the same vine-like tendrils that I had fought in the Inn, and it would appear that the room beyond them contained more cells like the one I currently occupied. The sound of someone in armor shifting his or her stance alerted me to the fact that I was not alone.

Quietly, slowly, I placed my hands on the vines and tried to sense for their energy. Though I had never done so, not even to a plant, I did know of a way that the light might be drawn out of an individual. Normally the premise for doing so was to transfer that light to another person in an attempt to keep them alive, but one skilled enough could simply tear the light out of someone and cause them a great deal of pain in the process. I had hoped that the vines might be vulnerable to such treatment, but none of my efforts bore results.

Seeing no way out of my imprisonment, I took a closer look at the room beyond my cell. The sounds of shifting armor I had heard earlier were coming from a single guard posted near a cave opening opposite my cell. The armor was clearly not made for him, and he stood uneasily looking into the passage beyond. My recently reclaimed military experience told me he was a conscript, and likely more fearful of the person who he was working for than anyone he was guarding. On the premise that his fear might be something I could use, I struck up a conversation with him.

Sadly, I found his fear to be more powerful than I expected. Despite my promises to aid him and his family (who apparently were also threatened by the person he was working for) he refused to free me from my cell. Our conversation was nearing its end when a voice upbraided the guard from the passage beyond my sight. From the conversation I overheard, the guard was supposed to alert his master upon my awakening, and by speaking with me had disobeyed orders. The new figure, presumably the master himself, stepped into the room and introduced himself as "Bear". I returned the courtesy and told him my name, after which he asked what punishment would be sufficient for a guard who had failed in his duty. Some mention was made to a "pit", and I could tell by both the Guard's reaction and Bear's inference that the "pit" was a most undesirable place to be punished. Thinking quickly, I suggested that the guard be imprisoned in one of the cells adjoining my own, telling Bear that he might appreciate his duty all the more if he were to experience it from the other side. Bear agreed, and sealed the Guard in a nearby cell. He seemed to have some sort of command over the vines themselves, and I thought him to be a mage or druid of significant power.

We talked for a moment, and he was somewhat forthcoming with information about his plans. He intended to create his army, and the people of Final Haven were simply in his way. He seemed to entertain the idea of bringing me onto his side for a moment, but my comments appeared to upset him. He warned me that I might yet see the pit and made his exit. Moments later the Guard appeared outside my cell and asked me if I really believed I could protect his family. When I said that I believed we could, he poured a liquid on the vines trapping me in the cell. They recoiled from the opening, allowing me to escape. The guard explained that he carried a vial of some substance that he used to use while farming, and that it was useful in fighting the plant creatures. Once out in the room, I thanked the guard and checked on the condition of the other prisoners. While none were in need of immediate aid, none were able to travel either, and I made a silent promise to return for them as soon as I could. The guard and I slipped down the passage, only to find a stone wall facing us just a few feet down the corridor. Reasoning and a quick search discovered the trigger for the secret door, and we were quickly on our way again.

After going up an ascending passage, we came to a room filled with more of the plant-creatures. A single sandy pathway was the only means of avoiding their grasp, and across the room an opening revealed another passageway leading up. One stray step might land us back in the grip of Bear's thorny servants, but going back held no real promise either. Taking the vial from the guard, I agreed to go first and ran along the sandy path to the other side of the room. When I arrived safely, I motioned for the guard to do the same. He did so, but he seemed to trip on a rock projection in the floor. At the same instant his foot struck the rock, a great rumbling began in the cavern. Fearing a cave-in, I grabbed the Guard's shoulder and pulled him up the passageway.

Part XVI: An escape into chaos.

My fears of a cave-in were well founded, and with the cavern falling in around us there was no option but to run blindly forward, desperately hoping to out-pace the collapsing walls. The passage that led us away from the room where the plants had been ascended for what seemed like an eternity then turned sharply to the left. The new passageway was wider, and appeared to run straight instead of moving either deeper or towards the surface. I felt a weight in my gut when we stopped ascending, as I knew full well we had precious moments to spare before the whole system buried us both. Running on, I began to hear voices in the distance. The roar of falling rock and the echoes of the tunnel made it difficult to discern who was speaking or how far away they were, but the voices sounded aggravated.

The guard and I emerged from a cloud of dust to see a number of people arguing in the passageway ahead. I recognized them as members from both my own Phoenix Guard and the Guild of Light, and my spirits soared. If they had come this far, it stood to reason they could guide us out again. I was unsure of what they were arguing about, but I didn't have time to concern myself with their squabbles. I barked out orders and gave the command to run before I realized what I was doing, and only afterwards did I realize how natural it felt. We all streamed out of the cavern and into a deep hole, and I made quick use of a nearby rope to get myself up and into the open air again.

Turning to my rescuers, I extended my hand to help them out of the hole. Now that I could see them in the light, I saw just how tense several of them really were. Kabre and Curufin were on edge, as were Ka and Azara. Almost as soon as they emerged they began bickering and snapping at each other, and before long violence seemed a real possibility. I intervened, and asked Kabre to explain the reasons for the hostility. He reported that a philosophical difference had hampered cooperation between the Guild of Light and the members of the Phoenix Guard, and that he thought their methods to be burdensome and coddling. Arthos replied that the Guard was being cold and uncompassionate, and I was able to see how the disagreement had begun. Still, I was disappointed in both my men and the Guild of Light for nearly coming to blows on the over the issue. I deemed that both groups simply needed some direction and some time to think about their actions, so I assigned them to protect the town and learn more about Bear's forces. Arthos was wary at first, and requested that I answer some questions about my escape. I did so, and apparently my answers were sufficient to quell his doubts about my capacity. We split into teams and began to address the problem of Bear and his creatures.

Part XVII: Dealing with the Druid, dealing with each other.

As I walked toward the Guild of Light's hall atop the hill, I noticed a palpable tension in the air. There were still unresolved issues stemming from my rescue, but the threat posed by Bear took precedence over any squabbling among the defenders of the Haven. Still, I knew that such animosity would need to be dealt with, either by my own action or by the passing of time. Fate would grant me an ally in the keeping of the peace with the arrival of Captain Robin Steel and the curious Ug in Final Haven. Robin enjoyed the same independence that I did upon my arrival in the Haven, and the Orcs quickly saw her as someone who possessed the objectivity that I now allegedly lacked. We found that we had much in common with each other, and I was happy to count her among the residents of our community. Ug appeared for all intents to be an Orc, but insisted that he was an Elf. Few argued with him about it, since his knowledge and ability with magic seemed more than adequate to make up for any shortcomings. He proved to be an interesting contrast to Thaka, a young woman who appeared to be very Elven, but was a member of the Broken Tusk tribe and considered herself to be an Orc. The Tribe also added Iza and Marg to their numbers, and having a formidable force of Orcs to help defend the Haven appeared to be quite the blessing.

We were able to find the families of both the sweeper and the guard we rescued from Bear's tunnels, though those poor folk had not seen the last of Bear's foul magics. Some of them were once again taken by him and subjected to a spell that transformed them into bears for a time. Fearing that whatever plans Bear had for the people of Final Haven might be soon wrought upon us, we decided to take the fight to him.

The town's scholars and Elder Quetzal had discovered a way into Bear's lair. A complicated ritual involving a crystalline dog was needed, though the details of the spell were never revealed to me. We knew that the bears he sent against us were townspeople under his control, so we did our utmost to only incapacitate them as we fought our way closer to our enemy.

Creature after creature stood against us, but we had brought the full strength of Final Haven against Bear's minions, and they could not stand before our assault. Finally Bear himself appeared, hammering blows down upon our troops and roaring his defiance. He was a fearsome sight to behold, a force of nature bent on fury and hatred. His rampage took him across our lines until he found himself surrounded by cold steel and righteous anger.

In his rage, Bear had stepped into the center of a circle comprised of Roland, Azara, Ka, and myself. Our swords bit at him, opening crimson wounds in his thick brown hide. His anger boiled over, but his body began to fail him, his strength staining the ground in dark pools at his feet. His final flurry nearly stole my life away, but at last we laid him low in a barrage of singing blades.

In the days that followed, I tried to turn my attention to the needs of the people, but there were more tensions between the Orcs and the rest of the town. Despite our initial friendship, I began to look on exchanges with the Orcs as burdensome. There was a distance between us, one that mistrust was serving to widen. They had voiced some measure of opposition to my position as Constable, but I had no real time to concern myself with their opinion. Either I was the Constable or I was not, and so long as I was I had a responsibility to the townspeople. I saw no reason to defend my performance, as the state of the town would speak for itself. We had trained the able villagers into a defense force (Which I dubbed “Shieldhaven”), and seeing to their supply and protection was more important to me than answering my critics. There had been a rash of slayings among the villagers, seemingly due to Dark Elves and their arrows. We had few leads, but I put the men to work on finding those responsible. With questionable characters, strife among the defenders, and curious cakes in the Haven, the opinions of my detractors were tertiary at best.

Further disagreements with the Orcs had brought the issue of law into question, and we learned that the Orcish culture had three simple laws: Liar liar beat you up, finder’s keepers, and might makes right. Needless to say, many of us were unwilling to accept those laws, and they were equally unwilling to accept our more complex system of governance. So divided and heated were the discussions that we feared violence would result, and Robin was given the opportunity act as arbitrator between the town and the Orcs. The Orcs agreed to live by whatever laws Robin would write, and the Phoenix Guard and the Guilds of Light and Hope agreed to evaluate the laws once they were written. I still held hope that we might come to a peaceful resolution, but something about the situation worried me greatly. The Orcs had been very threatening in their demeanor, and many in the town were concerned that they had ill intentions. Though I did not believe that the Orcs wished anyone ill, I had begun to question their intentions within the community. They seemed heavy handed, bullying their way through situations that might have been easily resolved with some patience and understanding. They also were dead-set against me having any position of influence within the Haven, apparently still bitter about my decisions concerning the items that were taken. I had no real idea of how to make things better between us, since the principals I knew to be right had guided my decision. A conundrum, but one that I had no answer to solve. Even seeking the counsel of Dallid, Gideon, and Atrum gave me no solutions, though talking with them did much to raise my spirits. Each offered a different form of the same wisdom, suggesting patience, compassion, and understanding. I hoped that they were right.

With the passing time, I ordered the Guard to conduct patrols of the surrounding lands and make regular visits to the farms on the outskirts of the Haven. Valane mentioned some project of great importance, and asked for leave to research and accomplish it. I granted his request, though I was aware of how may of my men were away from Haven on one errand or another. Brikal and Drake had already been dispatched on a deep scouting mission, leaving only Curufin, Kabre, and I in town to represent the Phoenix Guard.

Luckily, that was about to change.

As we surveyed a valley to the southwest of Haven proper, Curufin, Kabre, and I came across a group of travelers making their way across a ridge. We immediately recognized them as survivors from our Order, and hailed them in our traditional fashion. They greeted us as brothers, and we were grateful for their company. Among them were Sethreal, a Ga'vin warrior of great courage; Brant, a master of cunning and infiltration; Ethos, an empath whose upbringing gave him an inquisitive nature; and Ravinal, an enigmatic man with a powerful connection to the land around him. They bolstered our numbers significantly, and the later return of Drake from his mission brought us near to a full complement. Others also arrived in the Haven, people such as Lao, a learned man whose counsel offered much to the Haven; Ming, a monk whose quiet wisdom quickly proved a great asset; Ikarius, a tall man that I found to be both a stalwart companion and good company; Tak, a ga'vin warrior whose experience in the field was evident from the moment I laid eyes on him; and Sacozu, a woman who sought to purge the scourge of undeath from the world; all of whom would prove worthy souls. Hope seemed to blossom in my spirit, and I knew to expect something to come along and crush it in short order.

Part XVIII: The Bleeding Woodlands.

That very night brought talk of the Guild of Light dealing with their Dragon problem by fulfilling some request it had asked of them. They and the Orcs seemed to have the measure well in hand, but I sent some of the Guard to keep an eye on them anyway. I knew that this was something the Guild had to resolve for themselves, but I wanted to have some people nearby in case they were in need of assistance.

While we awaited news from the Dragon's quest, Roland, Nuk, and Atrum came to the Inn with a request for assistance. I initially offered them Sethreal and Ethos, but the look that Atrum gave me said that he expected something requiring more experienced warriors. Leaving Drake and Ethos to defend the Inn, I took Sethreal and joined him on his errand.

As it happened, the errand was the re-assembly of a tree that had chopped apart by local villagers. The villagers had been paid in grain to do the task, and the tree had begun to bleed when they hacked at it. The blood carried a disease of sorts, and the infected blood had come into contact with the grain. Even the river where the villages had washed the blood off of themselves carried the infection, and we were forced to quarantine both the river and the grain silo until we could remove the cause of the disease. We also had looked into finding the person who hired the villagers, but gained little information about him, save that he was a shadowy figure.

The clearing where the tree was located was empty when we arrived, but it would not remain so for long. As we began smearing a compound on the branches and reattaching them to the tree, creatures from the forest began circling our position. Prior to our arrival, we had believed that the bloody tree might also have something to do with the Dark Elves attacking the villagers, though the likelihood of their involvement seemed to wane with each passing moment. When the animals began to attack, Roland and Atrum fell on them with a fury, while Sethreal and I stood guard over Nuk. She continued to reassemble the tree, and we tried to keep the beasts from interfering with her task.

The fight dragged on endlessly, with the creatures sweeping in to weaken us and then returning to the safety of the forest. Finally, Roland charged after some of our attackers, hoping to draw them off from us and buy us the time we needed to repair the tree. We heard the sounds of combat coming from down the trail, and then we heard nothing. Atrum and I looked at each other, knowing that one of us had to go in after him. Despite being fresh from the wastes Sethreal had fought with great force and courage, but was best suited to remain in defense. Nothing was said, but a quick estimation of each other's abilities told us all we needed to know. I stayed with Sethreal to protect Nuk and the tree, and he went off into the darkness after Roland.

When he emerged moments later, both he and Roland were in sorry shape. Atrum's pouch of potions did a great deal to help that situation, and once again we held off a rush from the creatures of the forest. Nuk's voice rang out in triumph from behind us, and we saw the blood rushing up into a tree made whole once again. The creatures, either frightened by the bloody tree or by the resistance we gave to being eaten, retreated into the woods. Weary but successful, we returned to the town.

Part XIX: An argument and a gift from the villagers.

I found myself sitting by the fire pit outside the Inn later that evening, thinking on the bleeding tree and other events the town had dealt with over the past few moons. I was not alone, as Robin, Grok, and a few others had gathered around the fire as well. I don't remember how the subject was breached, but somehow the topic of law came up, and the divisions between the Orcs and I became apparent once again. The laws Robin wrote had appeased the Orcs by removing me as Constable and installing Roland as my replacement. I was to become “Elder”, and deal with the civil matters of the Haven, while Robin herself was to become Magistrate and preside over the legal and criminal processes. I had no issue with stepping aside as Constable, though some in the Phoenix Guard grumbled at the thought of having the Orcs decide who could and who could not hold a particular position.

Whatever the source of the discussion, the result was that Grok began saying some less-than-complementary things about my capacities and my performance as Constable. Though suffering her insults was aggravating, I held my tongue in the name of peace. Better to let her slight and slander me then bring a war to the people of Haven. My pride and honor were both strong enough to bear such a burden, so I refrained from commentary. Drake, however, was not willing to hear his commander slandered in such a fashion.

Drake managed to insult Grok and incur Robin's wrath in just a few sentences, and the aftermath of his retort nearly brought us to the war I had been working so hard to avoid. Later that night, the Orcs arrived in force to confront Drake about his insults, demanding that their “Orc Honor” be satisfied. Something in their words rung hollow in me, and I realized that I was beginning to truly resent my former comrades. I had borne their words and barbs silently to preserve the peace, and now they were provoking the issue. As we argued, I watched my men take positions around the Orcs, ready at any second to cut them down. They clearly had heard enough of Orcish slander, and I could see in their eyes the desire to kill them and be done with it. I gave them the signal to stand down, and for a moment they hesitated. I gave it again, and in such a way to broker no argument. They relaxed, but I knew then that a line had been crossed. It would take all my efforts to keep that precious peace, and not even my own men would help me in the endeavor. Drake went to stay with the Orcs that night, and I hoped that we might learn enough about each other to live together in harmony.

The next day brought reports of a mob of villagers marching through the streets. Our scouts were dispatched to investigate, and it appeared that they had captured a man they claimed was Florin himself. Though we doubted that the villagers had actually managed to seize the fleshcrafter, we didn't want them lynching someone based off the presumption that he was Florin, so we sent a force to retrieve the prisoner and bring him to the Inn. There was a feeling of comedy about the whole incident, a jovial humor that lasted right up until they brought Florin through the door.

Many of us were stunned to see what appeared to be the man who rose from the dead out of the very Inn we were seated in come shuffling in guarded by townspeople. He seemed passive, and all of us were immediately suspicious of another trick or trap. An in-depth investigation revealed that the man was indeed Florin, but only half of him. Somehow the good and evil halves of Florin were separated from each other, and the villagers had apprehended the good half. I had heard stories that Florin was once a man of great skill at healing who had fallen to darkness, but no one had expected him to arrive and be willing to die to prevent further harm. We resolved to use this Florin to find the other Florin, and hopefully put an end to the threat that the evil half represented.

After assembling our numbers, we took the good Florin and made for the lair of his evil other half. We were only a small distance up the trail when flesh golems descended upon us in force. In the confusion, all but a small number of people spread out to fight the golems, leaving the good Florin lightly defended. The golems took the opportunity to bash their way in and grab the good Florin. I gave chase to the golem that snatched him, as did Marg and Vaus, but none of us were swift enough to keep up with its tireless, ground-eating stride. Denied our only asset, we organized an offensive against Florin and his entire force of golems, resolved to end the danger once and for all.
Somehow, either from the good Florin or by research, we had discovered that the evil Florin possessed a spell that could deal damage through armor and over a huge area. Nothing could be done to resist this spell, so we made ready for it to strike us. The healers of the Haven came together, and we worked on a method in which we could restore as many of the fallen to health as we could in a short time. As prepared as we could be, we marched to war.

Part XX: One man, two sides.

Walking with the rest of the healers near the back of the column gave me the chance to glimpse a heartwarming sight. The entire population of Haven, united against a common foe, marching together to rid our land of a dire enemy. It seemed, if only for a moment, that perhaps all our differences could be overcome.

Because of my placement within the pack of adventurers, I heard the sounds of combat before I actually saw the fighting. Florin's creatures had come out in force, and behind their ranks we could glimpse their master in the throes of a dark ritual. As we fought towards him, it became certain that his magic would be unleashed upon us all. All we could do was wait for the spell that we knew would come, and hope to return as many of our companions as possible to fighting form when it did.

Our only warning was a faint shimmering in the air around us, and for a long instant I wondered if something had gone awry. I saw them first, beams of searing light erupting from the ground to tear through flesh and bone alike. Then I felt them, like bars of white-hot steel lancing through the very center of my being. The pain was brief, but there remained an ache and a weakness that left my hands shaking and my knees trembling in their effort to allow me to stand. Though I did remain standing, fully half our expedition did not, and we healers sprung into action.

Working in concert, administering potions and performing acts of medicine ranging from the mundane to the miraculous, we were able to restore all of Haven's defenders in an astonishingly brief amount of time. At the same moment, our warriors pressed into Florin's lair and encountered his second wave of creatures. As they fell back I noticed that our lines were thinning in the center, and that should a few more of our fighters be forced to retreat, that we might suffer a breach. Seeing that another could tend to the wounds of the person I was treating, I strapped on my shield and joined the fray. Florin's creations were much as I remembered them, powerful and fearsome to behold. I hewed at them alongside Curufin and Sethreal for a moment, then swept left along the lines to guard Roland's flank. One of the golems was laying about with its massive fists, ripping holes in the earth and shattering bones with its tremendous force. When its attention turned away for an instant, I fell upon it with all the fury I could muster. Lightstorm dove into its flesh again and again, hacking off slabs of flesh and splitting bone from bone. Despite my attacks, the creature turned to me with a deliberate slowness that chilled the soul. Its fist reared back, and I knew then that there would be no avoiding the blow.

When the strike came, I felt my shield slip from my hands and wondered for a moment why the world had become green and blue. A dull roaring sound had replaced the din of battle, and I no longer felt the weight of my armor on my shoulders. All seemed a pleasant fantasy, until my flying body made contact with the tree behind the spot where I had been standing. Stunned, I saw Dallid grab my shoulder and felt him dragging me across the ground. He was clearly speaking to me, but I heard none of what he said. The roaring sound still filled my ears, though I recognized the green and blue as the canopy and sky above me. As the numbness left my limbs, I expected an agony unlike any I had felt before to replace the deadness and tingling. Assessing my condition, however, proved to me that the blow had not been nearly as powerful as I had imagined it to be. My shield, which I had thought destroyed, was at my side, and I was in only a third of the pain I had expected.

I sent Dallid away, since I was able to treat my own injuries, and began to channel the Light through my being. The world became sharper, colors became more vibrant, and I was filled with an energy that seemed to spark up and down my spine. I watched the battle turn into a stalemate, with the creatures stopping our fighters at the entrance to the cave. By the time my wounds had mended, we were charging into the cave time and again, only to pull our warriors out bloodied and weary. I made my way down to the cave mouth, and found Grok lying unconscious near a man I did not recognize. He appeared to be healing her, but I watched him closely to be sure his actions were indeed benevolent. One of Robin's men approached shortly afterward, and at nearly the same instant the people near the cave entrance pulled Lao's mangled body from the cave. I set the crewman to keep watch over Grok and covered Lao with my shield as I began to heal him. We were near the opening of the cave, and several times my shield was the only thing between Lao and a golem's attention. Even as I healed him, I wondered how much longer we could survive. Grok appeared at the mouth of the cave, obviously having recovered from her earlier injuries, shouting for a weapon. Without hesitating I offered up Lightstorm, and only later did I realize the significance of my action.

Though I did not know it then, Roland and Kabre had come up with the plan that saved the day. Somehow, Roland disguised himself as a flesh golem and entered the lair without difficulty. Using Kabre's crossbow, Roland was able to bring down the evil Florin and leave the golems without a master. After that it was just a matter of bringing the creatures down and keeping them there, which was much easier with a man inside. We were victorious, and one of the greatest threats to the Haven in recent memory was gone, hopefully for good. I returned to the Inn pleased, but wary. We had encountered a number of goblins on our way to Florin's lair, and they had taken issue with the Orcs bringing us into their territory. The Orcs had no intention of harming the goblins, but that was not how the goblins had seen the incident. Coupled with the destruction of a pair of Wargs (believed to have belonged to Gnosh, leader of the Goblin army), we had reason to fear that he might seek some retribution against the Haven.

We were right.

Part XXI: The price we pay.

Mere hours after our victory over Florin, we found ourselves poised yet again to confront a powerful enemy. Many of our number still had rents in their armor from the earlier combat, but we stood ready to fight of an army of goblins and ga'vin led by the warlord Gnosh. Some luck had been afforded us, and though we were not fully recovered from our earlier combats, we had time enough to organize a defense. Our arcanes had discovered the spell Florin had used against us earlier, and now prepared to turn it against Gnosh and his men. In addition, the people of the town constructed a massive pit trap in the field outside the Inn. Lastly, the Orcs had agreed to join Gnosh's forces, supposedly wanting to see the town destroyed. They would fight passively, waiting for the chance to turn on Gnosh and weaken either him or his ga'vin forces. Roland equipped them with a war drum so we would know when the attack was on its way, and so we waited for the beat that would bring battle once again to the Haven.

Night came, and over whispered conversations and the sound of craftsmen at their task we heard the steady rhum-rhum... rhum-bum that meant our time had run out. We gathered at the edge of our trap and waited. Steadily they came on, marching in a vast horde that extended beyond the limits of my vision. We all waited anxiously as they neared the trap, and when the first rank of goblins fell into their doom a great joy was felt among Haven defenders. Again we rejoiced as the second and third ranks met a similar fate. Our celebration was short-lived, however, as a stunning realization came over us. The ranks following after simply walked over the traps, stepping on the bodies of their fallen comrades. There would be no bottleneck as we had hoped, they simply had enough warriors to sacrifice huge numbers and make our traps useless. Moreover, none of the ga'vin had fallen into the traps, meaning that our fiercest foes were still unharmed.

Our lines met theirs, and for a moment all direction was lost in the haze of battle. Even in the darkness it was easy to see that we were no match for their numbers. We gave ground steadily, falling back to the Inn and eventually gathering within it. Nuk was there; ready with the spell we hoped would decimate Gnosh's army. She cast it, and we saw the now-familiar bars of light streak up from the earth outside. Our fighters engaged immediately, hoping to take advantage of the pain and confusion among Gnosh's forces and drive them back. They found no pain, no confusion, indeed no apparent effect from the spell at all. Somehow the army had resisted the spell, and another of our advantages had been undone. Our last surprise, the real allegiance of the Orcs, was not something we could use lightly, so Jux and I traded blows to the shield time and again in the back door of the Inn. The enemies outside had no idea that our combat was not sincere, and it allowed many of our people time to rest and heal. Finally, there appeared a lapse in the battle, and I left the doorway to aid Nuk in the transference of life to our strongest warriors.

The battle resumed its former ferocity at a particularly bad moment for Nuk and I. She had all but depleted her own life when the enemies began forcing their way into the Inn. She and I ran out the back door and into the brush nearby, where I began to replenish her life force. One at a time, I saw Haven's defenders run into the wood line in an attempt to escape Gnosh's forces. Before anyone could rally our numbers together, we had all but abandoned the field. For the first time since my arrival in the Haven, we had been forced from our home.

We crept like animals in the woods, trying not to be seen or heard by the patrols Gnosh sent after us. While avoiding capture we came across Kabre, Atrum, Sethreal, Vaus, and Lao. Together we took to the woods, following Atrum to a clearing he believed that Roland and some others might use as a rallying point. Our attempts at stealth failed us only once, when a patrol of goblins and ga'vin stumbled across us in the darkness. The fight was short but ferocious, with my companions and I fighting like cornered animals. We dispatched the patrol, and swiftly made our way away from the site of the battle. As we fled, we could hear other patrols and see lights in the distance.

When we allowed ourselves time to heal, we heard a group of ga'vin pass within mere feet of our position. Fear began to creep into the hearts and minds of my companions, especially when we reached Atrum's clearing and found it empty. Together, we then decided to strike back against the forces occupying the Haven. Skirting the main road, we crept back toward the town – ready to kill any opposition we found or die trying. Atrum and Sethreal scouted ahead, and once we set an ambush for some troops we saw on the road between us and the town. We were all too pleased to discover that the troops were our own. They told us that the town had been retaken, and that Gnosh had escaped to his hideout to marshal his remaining forces. I returned to the Inn in good spirits, knowing that the Haven would mobilize and finish Gnosh off that very night, but on my arrival I learned the cost of our victory.

Both Brant and Curufin had fallen in battle, and while a potion had restored Curufin to life, Brant's body had been consumed by the ga'vin. There would be no return for him. A night of firsts claimed another mark, as for the first time one of the Guard had perished in defense of Haven.

I had little time to mourn him, though, as the time had come to avenge his death. We marched on Gnosh's hideout with grim determination. There was no fury in the arc of my sword that night, just an absolute resolve to rip the souls from the creatures that stole Brant's life. We cut down Gnosh and his remaining troops with cold disdain and mounted Gnosh's head on a pike for all to see. I felt no triumph that night, but instead knew emptiness. I recognized the feeling, but it was one I had hoped would never come again. It was the mix of a commander's calculation and a friend's grief, and it robbed me of my will to sleep. I talked with Lao for hours by the fire, and came to know him as a friend. I was glad of his company, and kept watch alone after he retired for the evening. Finally, as morning rose over the Haven, I allowed sleep to claim me.

Part XXII: New friends and a duel in the dark.

My dreams were dark that night, and they continued as such for many nights afterwards. I could feel an imbalance within my spirit, and I knew that only time and duty would correct it. Kabre and Drake went off to find Brikal and bring him safely back to the Haven, and Ethos asked if he could join Valane in working on his project. Since Valane had been his teacher before the cataclysm, I allowed him to rejoin his mentor and aid him in his efforts. More of my men – more of my friends – were leaving my side for one reason of another, and some of them might not return. With Brant's death still fresh in my mind, I wished for nothing more than their safety and happiness.

Arthos and I discussed an alliance of our peoples, and together we laid the groundwork for the Haven's first unified House. The Guilds of Light and Hope and the Phoenix Guard were one in all but name, and this would allow us to cement our ties and make public our commitment to cooperation and peace. We expanded the trade route we had formed earlier, and work on a Tannery for the Guard and the town continued nicely.

Newcomers also came to the Haven, and on one memorable night a woman I did not recognize entered the Inn and began to read the laws Robin had posted on the door. She introduced herself as Kidwynn, and asked if I knew where she might find the owner of the Inn. A cursory glance behind the bar revealed that he was elsewhere at the moment, and in talking with her I learned that she was a crafter of measurable skill. She had heard of the damage to the Inn and had come from the Fishing Village seeking a job. Though Atrum had already repaired the Inn, I knew the Guard had need of a person who was skilled at crafting and offered her work on the spot. She agreed, and though I did not know it at the time, the Guard had gained both a valuable asset and an invaluable friend.

It was while I sat at the fire a few nights later that I received another gift from the Light itself, though the gift came in four packages. There had been some conversation about a stranger in the Inn on the same night that Kidwynn had arrived, and I had believed that those speaking had been referring to her. I later learned that another of my own, Sergeant Rahl, had been in our inn performing reconnaissance for a party of Order members that had arrived from the wastes. Seeing Rahl, a Valkyn'Vi known for his mercenary tactics and ruthless efficiency; Lambic, a dwarf whose talent at alchemy was surpassed only by his tolerance for strong drink; Shale, a man whose inner warmth seemed a contrast to his great power; and Kels, an archer from the legendary Blazing Rain Company marching into Haven side by side was a salve to my injured spirit. We greeted each other and began to talk of many things, including the passing of Brant in the fight against Gnosh's forces. I saw Kels tense, and only then did I remember a connection between the archer and the slain Valkyn'Vi. Kels wished for some form of retribution, some way to avenge Brant's passing, but the deed had already been done. He left to look upon Gnosh's head, and I was not surprised to see it riddled with arrows when I next passed the pike we had placed it upon.

I was greeting some of the other new arrivals to the Haven, folks such as the Tsunotaur warrior Ollumm, his companions Eldereth and McEwan, a shadowy woman named Rashon, and a band of colorful gypsies led by a friendly man named Vlad, when word reached us that Sacozu had either gone missing or been kidnapped by a Vampire. We later found her laid upon a stone slab in the cemetery, alive and apparently unharmed. While in the ancient burial grounds, we witnessed a ghost marching down the road. It appeared to engage and enemy, and then fell as if slain, fading from sight moments later. We made a note of the ghost, and then returned to town.

When we returned, we found Robin engaged in a loud argument with the Orcs. Most of the tribe was present, as were several of Robin's crewmen. We stopped for a moment to ascertain the potential for hostility, and found it to be present, but slight. Ollumm made some comment that Jux took as offensive, and Jux responded by intimidating him with a blow to the chest. Fearing that our involvement would just make matters worse, we continued on to the Inn.

Shortly thereafter, a group of Dwarves came into town looking for Arthos. I guessed that they were the group that had sworn some sort of blood oath against him, and so we followed them in their search. Arthos was on his way to the Inn when they found him, and it was clear they were looking for a fight. Arthos spoke to them, but they wanted to hear little of what he had to say. Worse still, the Orcs appeared to be egging on the Dwarves, encouraging them to do violence and lessening the chances that bloodshed might be avoided. Finally Arthos relented and agreed to meet the Dwarf leader in combat. I did not think Arthos would win the battle, but I knew he would survive it. His life was too valuable to the Haven to let him die because of some grudge match, and I made ready to heal his wounds after his defeat and meet any who tried to stop me from doing so with overwhelming force.

Luckily for all of us, Arthos won. He defeated the Dwarf after a duel that left us all wondering who would prevail. He refused to kill the Dwarf leader, and I was left wondering at the wisdom of his decision. The Orcs left silently, and I was again glad that there were no overt hostilities between us. Still, their role in making the fight happen the way it did bothered me greatly, and I knew it would be addressed in some later discussion.

Part XXIII: An errand in the woods.

Later that evening the Phoenix Guard responded to rumors of a “fire giant” in the village, which turned out to be nothing more than a family of villagers who wanted a giant fire. As we helped them build the blaze they needed to cook some pies, we noticed that the father of the family seemed to have a habit of beating his children. We built the fire as swiftly as we could, wishing nothing more than to aid the family in their attempt to feed themselves, but more and more the behavior of the father caused us concern. Both Shale and Lambic confronted the father with the cruelty of his actions, but all of us were reluctant to become involved in a family's disputes. I thought of confronting the father myself, but I feared any intervention on my part would just cause more abuse after we left. We accepted some pies in payment for our efforts and made our way back to the Inn.

Once back at the Inn, we found that the villagers were having a generally bad evening all around. A man named Josiah complained to us that Dark Elves had stolen his wife, and soon the Guard, Corbyn, and a number of others were on the way to retrieve the woman and hunt down the Dark Elves. We followed him through the woods and found ourselves under attack by both wolves and the Wood Wraiths that we hoped were gone from the area. We did attempt to communicate with them on several occasions, even trying to befriend them with offers of peace. Nothing we said had any effect, and we gained nothing from them but poisoned arrows and painful wounds. Sounds of combat came echoing from the town, and several of our number returned to make sure all was well. Depleted but determined, we continued on into the night.

After a long and difficult trail, we came near the cave that the Dark Elves called home. We took a moment to heal our wounds before continuing on, and the presence of the Light in my being made me realize just how weak I had become. Denied rest by both duty and a troubled soul, my exhaustion was complete. Knowing that the woman's time was limited, I ordered the column on ahead.

Sitting there, alone and in the dark of night, I found the dangers of the forest, the demands of my station, and even the troubles between the peoples of the Haven to be inconsequential. There was only weariness, and the sweet temptation to escape by just laying back and closing my eyes. So much of what we did was right: defending the innocent, aiding the weak, and fighting to keep the Haven safe and free; yet some still found fault in cutting down a score of Dark Elves just to gain freedom for one woman. What were we fighting for? Life? Certainly not, for if life were most precious to us then we would not kill to be free. Freedom? Perhaps, but freedom by whose definition? Was not Pentag free when he murdered the Lady Elus? Righteousness? Again, by whose perception? We had seen the Orcs had a clearly different system of determining right and wrong, but were still good creatures. I began to think we did not fight for anything but survival, and that the presence of something clearly evil was the only thing that kept us together.

My dark musings reminded me of a story my Father had told me just after I had received my first command. He spoke of his days in the Guard, and how his instructors had offered simple advice to young officers whose thoughts turned too bleak. They were told: “Get back to sharpening your sword”. I decided to follow their advice, and over the protest of my aching muscles, I forced myself to my feet and stumbled down the trail.

I arrived at the cave to find our people standing warily around the entrance. Voices could be heard from inside, and all who saw me approach stepped aside at the sight of my face. They had seen my resolve to keep putting one foot in front of the other as some kind of heroic determination, and I let them keep their mistaken perception. I entered the cave with little energy left in me, but I knew it was something that had to be done. I was getting back to sharpening my sword.

The Dark Elves were not what I expected, and their willingness to negotiate only amplified my weariness at first. I approached them slowly, offering my shield to Curufin and using Lightstorm as a walking stick. We bartered and bargained for Josiah's wife, and I realized that I was becoming more and more offended by them as our negotiations continued. I had never planned on giving them anything for the woman, but I had hoped to learn something of them before the bloodshed began. Theirs was a culture where kidnapping and slavery were accepted practices. I thought that they, like the Orcs, had values that were different than my own, so should I not accept and accommodate them as well - especially if it would avoid bloodshed?

No.

No, I would not accommodate them.

As I heard them greedily arguing for goods in exchange for an innocent life, something clicked inside my head. I could accommodate anyone's culture or personal idiosyncrasies, but there were still some things that were inherently wrong. These Dark Elves were inherently wrong, and unrepentant about it. I felt energy begin to creep back through my agonized body, and I looked at Curufin with ice in my eyes. He seemed confused at first, but then seemed to understand as he slipped my shield onto my waiting arm. Our negotiations had made the Dark Elves lower their guard somewhat, and I saw the opportunity to break the nigh-inevitable bottleneck that their cave entrance would create. Their spears were at their sides, and they had not seen Curufin replace my shield. The time was ripe for action, and the fury of the righteous had restored my strength, so I did the sensible thing...

I charged.

Screaming, I sprinted the short distance down the passage and began cutting the first two Dark Elves to ribbons. Seeing that they were raising their weapons, I shouldered between them and slammed my back into the stone wall opposite the entrance. With their hopes for a bottleneck dashed, the Dark Elves had little chance to stop our onslaught. I pursued one down a side passage and fell into a pit trap, gaining a painful injury in the process. Fortunately, my prey also fell victim to the trap, and did not survive the fall. I motioned to Sethreal to lend me a hand, and he pulled me back to the surface while I fended off spear-points with my shield. Once out of the pit, we discovered that there was a small ledge around the pit that would allow for people to skirt the trap unharmed.

We encountered more of the Dark Elves at the next corner, and for a moment we traded blows cautiously, trying to feel each other out. Ravinal was having great success using his feral force against them, and they retreated from his roaring Realizing that time was a concern, I threw tactics out the window and we attacked the Dark Elves without mercy. Ravinal, Sethreal, Kels, and I all hammered blows upon them, and together we mowed over their numbers, advancing until we reached a small room in the deepest part of the cave. There we found two more Dark Elves preparing to enter a portal with Josiah's wife in tow. The possibility of them escaping fueled my righteous fires even more, and I cleaved the elf carrying the woman in two. Lightstorm was arcing through the air towards the other when he stepped through the portal. I sliced at him anyway, but withdrew Lightstorm before the portal snapped closed. Josiah's wife was shaken but unharmed, and we began the trek back to the Inn.

Part XXIV: Questions of judgment.

On arriving back at the Inn, we found many of our friends joyously carousing and reducing Atrum's inventory. Lambic greeted us, and told us that the sounds we had heard were due to a metal golem of some sort attacking the town. It had been under the control of a villager who it seemed to be taking orders from, and had accidentally caused quite the disturbance. Finally they had convinced the villager to order his golem away, and they had left the matter at that.

Robin, Roland, Nuk, and a number of others were laughing and drinking the night away, and their merriment made several of the Guard eager to join in the celebration. I gave them leave to do so, grabbed a bottle for myself, and went to sit by the fire for a while. Kidwynn and Kels were there, proclaiming the merits of rum and good company, and for once I had to agree. I finished my bottle and was going for another when I realized I could barely stand. My body was failing me, and things seemed well enough in hand, so I decided to retire for the evening.

As I entered my room, I heard a loud voice addressing those at the bar with harsh words. The voice belonged to Robert, and he was demanding a trial be conducted on a small boy who had killed his father with a rock. I recognized the boy as the one we had seen earlier that very evening being beaten by his father as we built the fire. Much to Robert's dismay, Robin was in no shape to conduct a proper trial and she informed him a court would convene in the morning. He left angrily, upset that his magistrate had postponed the trial. I said nothing on the matter, and stumbled into bed.

The next morning, the child and his mother stood before the court, and the first trial to be held under Final Haven's new system of laws had begun. Evidence was presented, and Robin ruled that the boy had indeed killed his father, but that the circumstances leading up to the act mitigated a lesser sentence than death. Both Robert and I had advised her to rule as such, and though the decision was entirely hers, I was happy to see what I thought to be justice being served.

Just prior to the beginning of the trial, a man claiming to be an emissary from King Rodrick had approached us and requested that we aid him in the clearing of a group of mutated Beastmen from a keep several miles from the Haven. He proposed that a small, stealthy group make the trek to approach the keep and then cast a receiving circle, thus allowing the bulk of Haven's warriors to approach undetected. Seeing the chance to remove a potential threat and make a valuable ally, I agreed to send some of the Phoenix Guard along for the journey and pledged the rest of us to the siege. Curufin, Kels, and Sethreal joined Atrum, Lao, Rashon, Corbyn, Dallid, and Ug for the trek, and I wished them all swiftness and success as they set out for the keep.

Almost as soon as they left, we were set upon by giant ants. The Orcs had come into town on an errand of some sort, and for a moment the tensions between us were forgotten. We faced off against what seemed to be and endless stream of ants, fighting them and allowing our healers to tend to our wounded. Two unlikely sorts, Ming and Lambic, fought fiercely against the insects and showed many of the warriors a thing or two about combat. I saw one of the Orcs fall, and my first instinct was to rush in and heal him, but I instead called to Grok and let her tend to her tribesman. I did not know how she would react seeing me standing over one of her Orcs, and I didn't want to take the chance that her response would be violent. Of all things, a villager with an anteater stemmed the ant assault, and we all were happy for the timely, if curious, intervention.

We rested for a time, but soon we received word that a cockatrice had turned several travelers to stone in the woods nearby. Our sages suggested that we could restore them by retrieving part of a fish and by stopping the bird itself, so the remaining adventurers split into two groups: one to confront the cockatrice and another to find the fish. I remained at the Inn with Ming in case the portal from the keep opened and they were in need of healing.

When everyone returned, they brought the needed components along with several statues along with them. Two of the statues were Rahl and Kidwynn, who had been turned to stone by the cockatrice as they fought. Luckily, we were able to restore them and the other statues to life with the potion made from the components. We then learned that the travelers had been robbed just prior to being turned to stone. A man named John claimed that a ring of significant value was taken, and that a spirit might not know rest if it was allowed to remain in the wrong hands. He told us the ring had belonged to a woman from the Rosenblood family, which was a branch of the Silverthorn line. Though I knew little of either ghosts or the former ruling family of these lands, I had a feeling both would be a concern of mine in the coming days.

Arthos, Robin, and I stepped aside as many of our people prepared for our evening meal. For some time, Arthos and I had been planning on founding a House between our two peoples, and now it appeared Robin was interested in joining us. After her disagreements with the Orcs she no longer believed that she would be an effective mediator, and as such planned to form her crewmates into a guild. She stated that the Guild of the Griffin would join Arthos and I in supporting this house, and it was decided among us that I should be the House Lord since the Lady Katherine was planning on a journey away from the Haven. When we walked away, the foundations had been laid for a house that would unite fully two-thirds of the population of the Haven under one banner.

As I walked towards the Inn a short time after dinner, Curufin drew motioned me to one side and gave me a report that I desperately did not want to hear. People had overheard the Orcs plotting not only my demise, but that of Robin and Arthos as well. Coupled with that, the Orcs were apparently building some sort of golem, perhaps inspired by the one that attacked the Inn the night before. I thanked him for his report and sent him away so that I could ponder the new information.

I had only a few moments to think before Arthos and Robin approached me. They claimed they had spoken with much of the rest of the town, and that they all were about to take arms against the Orcs. They told me that the time had come for necessity, not honor, to guide our actions, and that the Orcs would either leave, or die. They asked my to set aside all I held dear and do what had to be done to insure the safety of the Haven.

I asked them if they understood what they were asking me to do, if they understood what they were asking me to become, and they said they did. I asked them if they thought they thought that this was the only way, and they said it was. I asked them one last time if they really wanted me to do this, and two of my strongest allies, two of the Haven's greatest defenders, two of my dear friends answered that they did. I then answered them.

So be it.

Part XXV: What must be done.

I took off the amulet and ring that I inherited from my father, as they were the possessions of an honorable man. Perhaps someday I would wear them again, but not until I was worthy of them. I was numb as I returned to the Inn and donned my armor, placing the amulet and ring inside a small wooden box. I was numb as I heard the call for people to assemble at the sending circle. The keep had to be taken. It was necessary.

The tunnel through time and space was grand, but I was unimpressed by it. I did find some satisfaction in seeing our people unharmed and learning of their success at killing the Beastmen's chieftain. Them being alive and the death of the enemy leader would increase our chances for success.

We had hoped to approach from a passage under the keep, but the security of our approach was compromised, leaving a frontal assault the only other option. We began taking heavy fire from arrows and magic as soon as we took the field, but our warriors were able to destroy the gate and expose the entrance to the keep. Despite our numbers, we soon proved to be too weak to make a frontal assault and were forced to retreat from the opening. Our healers were under fire from those within the keep, and nearly all of our warriors were injured or severely outmatched.

The enemy sensed our weakness and sent their fighters out among us, causing death and havoc as they ran among our healers and the injured. Many of our number heroically fought to protect the injured, but no one was making any attempt at taking the keep.

Taking the keep was necessary. Winning the battle was necessary. Protecting my friends was necessary. To do what must be done – no matter the cost – was necessary.

I walked away from the battle along a brush line that led into a small valley on the left side of the keep. Because of the elevation of the keep and the steepness of the hill, I reasoned that an approach from the valley might go unnoticed if only one person was to make the attempt. Failure would mean death. Success would mean gaining surprise and possibly turning the tide of the battle in favor of the town – and death. The town could survive without me.

I scaled the side of the hill slowly and silently, my eyes never leaving the back of the beastman guarding the entranceway. He was throwing rocks at my friends on the battlefield, and each time he let fly he opened more of his back to me. When I plunged Lightstorm between his ribs, he had no idea what was happening to him. I cut him savagely, and turned into the tunnel he was guarding. Other twisted beastmen were there, with their weapons at their sides and their shields at their feet. They saw the body of their companion slide off my blade as I ran at them down the tunnel. A smile crept over my face as I saw something new in their animal eyes… fear.

A bolt of magic sizzled through the air across my face, but it was small and missed my head by mere inches. I engaged them just as they were raising their shields, Lightstorm flashing around their defenses and opening deep wounds in their hairy hides. They recovered quickly, but I had already accomplished my objective. I had been able to position myself within the tunnel, and as their spears jabbed at my flesh I fell to the ground behind their lines.

Already the warriors of Haven had followed my lead and were killing the beastmen I had weakened on my way in. I had expected that a few of those guarding the passageway would stay on and make sure I was dead, which they did my stabbing their spears into me again and again. The beastmen that were stabbing me were not fighting my friends, and as the life spilled from my body I knew that Curufin and the others would not ignore such a tactical opportunity. The stabbing stopped, and I laid unmoving for a moment or two. When I chanced a look around, I saw exactly what I wanted to see: the backs of several beastmen who were losing ground to Haven’s warriors. I could feel myself dying, but I was determined not to lose this opportunity to aid my companions. I forced my hand into my pouch and withdrew the healing potions that Corbyn had given me earlier. I drank two, and the fountain of blood erupting from my armor ceased. I was weak, but I mustered the strength to stand. The backs of my opponents were expecting me, and I didn’t want to keep them waiting…

After the last of the beastmen had been slain or driven away, I walked out of the keep down the same tunnel I had used to enter it. Going in, I had been met with spears and attacks, whereas going out I was met with hearty smiles and handshakes. The people of Haven were carting the goods we had found within the keep out in large sacks, and the whole field had an atmosphere of relief and victory about it. Atrum smiled at me as I emerged from the keep, and I made my way back to the members of the Guard. Their expressions carried a mix of concern and awe, and guilt briefly flashed in my consciousness. The emotion left as quickly as it came. Rahl joked about tying me to a stump the next time we were called on to fight in defense of the Haven, but I saw no reason to refrain from taking risks. We had lost nothing, save a few shields and some potions, and had hopefully gained the friendship of a neighboring monarch. What to be done was done, for the moment.

We returned to the Haven through another portal, and Robin, Arthos and I soon met to discuss the business of the House. They wanted to name our venture “The House of the Crescent Moon” to which I had no objection. We resolved to gather our respective guilds and inform them of our plan. We decided to give the Orcs an ultimatum: either be exiled from the Haven, or die. They both assured me that they could control the people in their respective organizations, and that everyone would be briefed on the plan when we gathered in force an hour later.

I should have known better.

By the time we gathered later that evening, all of the Phoenix Guard had been informed of the entire story and were ready to do what must be done. As I gathered the House of the Crescent Moon around me, I could clearly see the others were not as prepared as my men were. Before I even finished speaking, people were wandering off and talking amongst themselves.

It was weakness. It made me sick. These were the people who supposedly had griped and whined about the Orcs. They were the people who had supposedly prompted Arthos and Robin to come to me and ask me to do what was “necessary”. I had done as they had asked, set into motion the plan they had desired, and now that it was to be made manifest, they stared at the ground, shuffled their feet, and asked for more options.

The option of fealty was suggested, and I decided to cater to their insecurity and add it to the list of options. It would never be accepted, but those who wanted it might think that offering another option was somehow more compassionate than just saying “leave or die”.

Again, more weakness.

They had abandoned compassion when honor was sacrificed for necessity. They abandoned compassion when they griped to each other and thought about how they could fight the Orcs and win. The Orcs were a bunch of bullies who covered their aggression with their culture. Many of the townspeople were just as guilty of being arrogant and thinking their ways to be better. All, on both sides, were guilty of plotting and deception. My own men had begged me to deal with the Orcs, but the memory of their friendship had spurred my honor to hold them back. My honor had allowed me to bear their insults and their slander and still pursue peace, but my honor had been cast aside at the request of the very people who now backpedaled from the line they had asked me to draw.

Dallid and Gideon warned the Orcs that our intent was exile or war. Their betrayal did not surprise me at all, as I had counted on something tipping our hand. I received word that Roland had supported the Orcs, and I heard an argument between Nuk and Kels about what would happen if Roland sided with the Orcs in a fight against the House. Her answers did not surprise me either, just as I expected Curufin to tell me he would not raise a hand against her if she fought against us.

It was all weakness. Not just a physical weakness, but also a weakness of spirit. At least Dallid held fast to his beliefs and stood to them in the face of confrontation. Roland came, and requested a meeting of the guild heads. Grok arrived to speak for the Orcs, and she wept as she told the story of a brave and friendly tribe that had been persecuted by a cruel Constable bent on power and a town unwilling to accept their simple and honorable ways.

I knew the same story, but from the other side. I knew the story of a man who tried to bring peace and law to a land without either of those things. A man who was grateful for the friendship and support of a tribe of Orcs, and later overjoyed at the arrival of friends from his former life. A man who made decisions based off of the values he held dear, and not based on favoritism. Not just any man, but me. I heard Grok say that she hated me, and that she thought I hater her in return.

In that moment, I wondered at the reason that Haven had been spared the ravages of the wastelands. I had thought it odd upon my arrival, but had thought little of it until that moment. Something or someone in this land wrought malice and mistrust among the people here. Perhaps Haven was not spared the ravages of the cataclysm, but was just too evil to feel its effect. I had bled for these people and this land, and now it seemed that this land would not be satisfied until the people whom I bled for put me into it. All of us that led in the Haven: Roland, Atrum, Arthos, Grok, Jux, Robin, and I were marked – either by the land or by each other. If we could not move past shadows, secrets, and rage, then there was no hope for law or peace in the Haven.

After a suitable amount of meaningless blabber from the assembled leaders, it was decided that nothing should be done…yet. We were no closer to peace, no further from war, but Roland had been able to flex his muscles, Robin and Arthos got to appear compassionate, and Grok and Iza once again proclaimed their innocence. It was nothing new, and we all were encouraged to think on laws that we would like to live under. We had no government, no punishments, and no means for enforcement of the laws, but we were talking again, and so those who sought peace left feeling hopeful and fulfilled.

I knew the dangers of such feelings, and left them to those who could afford disappointment.

After the meeting, Rahl, Ming, Lao, Atrum, and I talked into the night, looking for a solution. There was some levity in our conversation, but we had gained nothing but a brief respite when we were done. We had a few new ideas, and I was willing to see what fruit they might bear.

I sat in bed that night, starting at the door and waiting for either sleep or an attack. Neither came, and after I resigned myself to that fact, I sat on the edge of my bed and retrieved a few items from my pack. Taking Lightstorm from its sheath, I began to sharpen my sword.

Donovan Thynedar.
Lord of the Crescent Moon
Preceptor of the Order of the Phoenix