Dear Diary,
Misfortune befalls me, old friend! I have been transferred to guard duty
at the floating keep of Killorn! This wretched, backwater garrison holds
no hopes of promotion or glory! Alas, but I am resigned to my fate. I still
serve my nation with complete loyalty and Obedience.
My direct supeior is Relk, the captain of the guard. While he keeps order
rather well, I find him shifty-eyed and overly suspicious. His lieutenant,
Lobar, is far worse. One cannot spend more than five minutes with him without
being reminded that he is a drunkard and an idiot. His complete lack of
Sobriety and Silence is abbhorent (not that he follows the other Virtues
much better). I hope when next I write I will have better news to bring!
Dear Diary,
The keep is not without its mysteries after all. Relk, my captain, has
been murdered. The accused is a stranger who arrived at the keep a few
days before. He claims it was self-defense, and I can't say I don't believe
him. Regardless, Lord Thibris stated his belief in this man's innocence,
and as lord here his word is taken with complete Obedience. We in the garrison
debate that Relk lacked Conformity and was clearly without Vigilance to
allow himself to be killed.
Lobar is now our captain, but still fails to impress me. While I would
not speak harshly of my superior, the man is far from a paragon of virtue.
Further more, he is a drinking companion of Relk's murderer, which throws
some suspicion about the entire case. Ah well. I shall follow my orders
with Diligence for now, before I'm stabbed in the back!
Dear Diary,
Excitement is brewing all over the keep! Mors Gothma has arrived with an
entire regiment of troops! I have served under her before and can assert
that she truly is one of our world's greatest heros! The reason for her
arrival at Killorn is still unknown; Lobar and even Lord Thibris haven't
heard a word of it! Still, I'll ask Lobar tomorrow if I can be transferred
to Mors' regiment. Prehaps my chance to serve the Guardian with complete
Punctuality will finally come!
Dear Diary,
Truly, I would never have guessed the history that is to be made here at
Killorn Keep! Having been transferred to Mors Gothma's personal force,
I found out incredible information kept secret from the entire keep!
Another world has been discovered, filled with enemies of the Guardian
and ruled by an Anti-Avatar! A means of magical transportation to this
world was found at Killorn, and Mors Gothma is leading an invasion force!
Britannia, as it is called, will soon fall before the might of the Eight
Virtues!
Every day, more troops are arriving. I've heard that even the Brain Creatures
which hold Killorn in the air are being strained and new ones are transferred
in to aid them! That I will be part of the greatest military campaign since
the war against Praecor Loth is apparent! I may thank the Virtues that
I was transferred to Killorn Keep!
Dear Diary,
I write with haste, for great things are about. The four scouts sent out
earlier today were all murdered. Then the stranger who killed Relk returned
to the keep and challenged Mors Gothma to a duel! Years ago, my former
commander Lobar won a duel against Gothma, but she had not lost once since
then.
Somehow, this stranger won, forcing our leader to flee. Several other soldiers
attacked him, but he killed some and escaped into Britannia.
Less than an hour ago, Mors Gothma returned. This stranger was the Anti-Avatar
of Britannia, she said. Quickly, we armed ourselves. We wouldst have to
attack much sooner than planned.
I must stop writing now. We charge into battle under the banners of the
Guardian. I pray we shall succeed.
Dear Diary,
Terrible news, my old friend. The battle is lost, and the even the war
is lost. The stranger fought Mors Gothma once more and slew her. He then
used magic to destroy the portal through which we arrived in Britannia.
I was just outside when it happened. Another man was right behind me, halfway
through. Then the gem-shaped portal shattered, splitting the man in two.
I cannot forget seeing his body fall before my eyes.
Some of us fought on and were slain by the dark legions. Others, including
myself, surrendered to the forces of evil. We were brought before a man
calling himself British, who called himself a king.
We were told that we wouldst never again see our homeworld. We are now
stranded forever in a hostile land. The dark monarch imprisoned us in his
castle's dungeon. Tomorrow our fates shall be decided.
Dear Diary,
The monarch's court decreed that I and all those from my world would be
executed for our crimes. Crimes! We are not mass murderers like them, who
wouldst kill upon whims!
Sharing my cell was a petty thief, native to this world. His name was Fissif,
and he told me much about my surroundings. These 'people' of Britannia
called their hero an Avatar and their beliefs the Virtues. Oh, how wrong
they are! How I couldst almost pity them for their blindness, not being
able to see the true Virtues of the Guardian!
Dear Diary,
Fissif was released this morning. I have no such luck. Never shall I see
my friends or family again. Soon I shall be executed. That is the only
release I may feel ever again.
It has been a week since last I wrote in thee, my last friend. Still these
Daemons are hard and uncaring to my imprisonment. The guard who feeds me
says I am no better than an animal, simply because I fought for my nation.
How I wouldst kill them all and avenge our humiliations! If only I couldst
die content…
Dear Diary,
Every day, more of my comrades are executed. Why must I wait? Why canst
I not die now?? I do not want to live! I live with naught but delusions
of my life which was stolen from me! I remember my childhood, and my friends.
I remember my dear wife! And my two children! All think me dead now! I
msut find them! I must!!!!
Diary
Why??????? Why kill me????? Our worlds
are alike! Yet they hate me,
just because my world is not
their own?? I am them!!!!!
D`\ry
Why?!?!?!?!?
Diary,
Upon this day I write with my last effort at sanity. My execution awaits
tomorrow. I simply warn my reader, whomever he may be, of the evil and
prejudice of this world Britannia. I warn of those who kill out of amusement.
I warn thee.