Book 2 Ch 23: Diary
The Necromancer Rebellion was in many ways the first test of the united Drakthiss. It occurred so soon after our unification and the removal of the elves. Still, our victory cemented us.
- Tolmey, “The Early Histories of Drakthiss”
Hello Diary the Third! Your ancestors Diary the First and Diary the Second served me very well and I hope that you continue to honor your family name. I will be telling you many events and secrets which I hope you defend with your life!
Solomon smiled a bit, charmed by the girl's whimsy.
Today mother took me to the market. She was searching for a gift for father as we are nearing their anniversary. I suggested that he may like a dog, or a new knife, or perhaps a saddle. Mother dismissed these suggestions and instead selected the far inferior gift of new boots. It is truly a shame, but at least father will not know the good things he missed out in their favor.
On the walk home we saw a number of serfs bringing in grain from their farms. Mother reminded me not to make eye contact and muttered something about wishing we didn’t live so close to the Reach. I like where we live. Perhaps mother and I are doomed to disagree today.
Solomon got the impression between the girl's handwriting and experiences that she was at least minor nobility. From what he recalled of the Necromancer Rebellion it was more than just a single mage raising the dead. It was one greater mage and more than a dozen lessers that had suddenly appeared among the serfs of the Reach. They rolled through the country, growing stronger and stronger as they went. Lantiss was one of the earliest places to be struck.
The next several entries provided valuable insight into the day to day life of a young girl in that time, but little else. Very suddenly though, things took a turn.
You were all I managed to grab when the skeletons arrived. They took our home, and mother and father as well. I don’t know where they are, but I was just taken outside. I struggled and fought to get to them, but I couldn’t break free. I spent hours crying. I wasn’t the only one.
A boy named Erik saw me and asked what was wrong. When I told him he practically dragged me to his home. It is a small place. Just one large room. His parents fed me though and I made no complaints. My mother wouldn’t want me to be a bad guest.
For some time she stayed with Erik and his parents, until they two were taken by the skeletons.
It’s just me and Erik now. I tried to help him feel better, to be kind the same way he was to me, but I had so little to offer. I am an inadequate friend.
They stayed in the house for some time, trying to make the food that was left last as long as possible until they were eventually forced to go out into the streets.
There are skeletons, zombies, and other horrors all along the streets. It smells terrible when we first leave the house, but eventually it fades. They don’t move most of the time, just rock back and forth. We haven’t seen any other adults, but we’ve seen some other children like us in the streets.
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We managed to catch a fat rat today. Erik says we should leave some of its bits out to see if we can attract more, but I think we should eat whatever we can whenever we can.
There were more entries that detailed rat hunting and a lucky discovery of moldy bread.
The skeletons have started moving again. They started to chase us, but we managed to get back without getting caught. I wish we’d found food before they’d chased us away.
There were details of several more food searches that grew more and more desperate until.
The skeletons caught us today. Just looked at me for a few moments and let me go. They took Erik though. I tried to get to him, but I was so tired all they had to do was gently push to send me to the ground.
Now that I’m alone they ignore me, so I started to walk the streets openly. I haven’t seen any other kids anymore. Or anyone alive at all. It looks as if it's just you and me now.
There were several pages where it seemed she had started writing, but stopped, then a final entry.
I found everyone. All of the men and women were at the edge of town. It was further than I’d ever gone, because it's where most of the monsters are. The men were all digging in the graveyard, picking out bones and other things, and the women were sorting them into piles. They were being watched over by skeletons. I walked out to where they were and tried to get Erik’s attention, but I was pushed away by a skeleton that still had some flesh left on it. I recognized its boots.
Tomorrow I’m going to go back. I want to be with everyone. Dead or not.
I’ll miss you Diary the Third
Solomon closed the diary carefully. He cleared his throat, trying to push aside the feeling of sadness he had for this long dead girl. It seemed as if there was no arcane value to the journal. Hopefully the requestor among the Arcana would want it anyway. The offer had been for a necromancy spell, an area he hadn’t yet delved into.
He stood up from the desk and sighed. It was still too early for him to prepare the ritual for joining the Arcana meeting. He called for Edmure and had him get him some more bread and cheese and ate idly, finding himself concerned for Moonfallow. Reading the diary had reminded him of how quickly things can change for the worse. Then again, he’d been a catalyst for much of the danger in Moonfallow, so perhaps it was much safer in that moment then it had been when he was there.
He finished his small meal and reached over to Crimson Command. He’d not been able to take any time to examine it since he received it. He needed to start sleeping with it as well if he wanted to provoke the visions that had been mentioned by the Six of Wands. It was probably for the best that it had been apart from him while his mana was in flux. Adding historical visions to those he’d already been experiencing would’ve been a tremendously uncomfortable experience.
He held the sword firmly in his hand. It felt very light and seemed to fit perfectly in his palm. He drew it a bit from the sheathe, looking at the pure crimson of its blade. From what he understood of the sword it granted all the martial skills and tactical knowledge of all who had ever wielded it to whoever used it. It could also allow one to project their voice over a large area or send their voice forward to speak with only a single man as if they were standing next to them.
It wasn’t as flashy as some of the other families' ancestral weapons. The Ryland’s Veilpiercer and the late Dentus family's Blackburn came to mind. Those could wipe out entire squads of men with the right wielder. At the same time, if someone used Crimson Command properly, it could turn the tide of entire battles and win wars. It certainly suited the mentality of the Morrow family.
He looked at the door and idly drew it. He instantly understood the weight of the blade, the best stance he should take with it, and how a man of his build and strength would best use it. He lifted it and gave it a few test swings. Normally he was worthless with a blade, but each of his strikes was perfect, using the absolute minimum movement necessary. He smiled. It was unfortunate he was so bad at swinging swords normally, there was certainly a bit of joy to be found in it. Still, he sheathed the sword and returned it to the desk, it didn’t compare to spellcasting.
He looked out the porthole and found that the sun was nearly set. He gave instructions to Edmure that he was not to be disturbed and then confirmed with Aristopheles that he wasn’t being watched.
Once he was certain he was alone and not being observed, he began to prepare the ritual to meet the Arcana.