Martin Leongling
King Martin Leongling (a.k.a. Prince of Callic, The Peasant Prince, Thunderoar, Planeshifter, Cursebreaker, Realm Walker, Relic Seeker, Dragonfriend)
Vladslav Sokolov, regarded as one of the smartest men alive by many, was born the bastard of a rich man of the city. Unacknowledged by his rich father, he was swiftly thrown into a orphanage in one of the rougher districts in the city.
His quick wits and prodigal ability with invention led to the appearance of Mr. Yellow, who offered the young boy an education at the Academy and a life away from poverty. The sponsorship of the technology wing of the government allowed Vladislav to reach great heights indeed.
At 23 he was made a Professor of the Academy, where he published many groundbreaking papers (including one that offered an explanation for the supernatural powers of the Whispers). Vladislav became rich, fat and happy! Then Mr. Yellow came to collect on his investment.
Far from upset, Vladislav was happy to join the group Mr. Yellow led: the Innovators. A group of the greatest minds in the city, and soon Vladislav was leading them. He met his wife (a government employee) who opened up a small slice of compassion in his heart, had his daughter Eyas, and found a peaceful existence in tinkering with the world around him.
Things changed when his wife died, and he created his greatest invention yet. The ability to grant a normal man the abilities of a Whisper. Perhaps it was the death of his wife, perhaps the moral pleading of his daughter. Perhaps it was simple greed. But upon his creation of the Device, Vladislav felt a tinge of regret. Could he give the powerful men in charge, who already held the city in a death grip, superhuman powers? No-one would ever be able to question their authority ever again.
Vladislav decided to use the Device on himself. Little did Vladislav know he was a Whisper himself and the abilities of the Device played havoc with his innate powers, transforming them into power space-time powers. The Council of Elders was alerted however and Vladislav had to flee into the night with Eyas, using his new teleportation ability to escape.
Mobilising the deadly assassin, Formel, to hunt the wayward inventor, the Council of Elders and the Innovators will have their revenge.
Physical Description
General Physical Condition
He possesses a stocky build, with a hard, rounded belly portruding from his midsection. He is relatively strong but heavy, loud and not terribly agile.
Body Features
He possesses no identifying marks; he is a rather plain man. One might notice his long, thin fingers however and his thick moustache that dances upon his upper lip.
Facial Features
He is not ugly, but also not quite handsome. He possesses a broad, square face but a charming smile often rests upon his face. Despite this, it never really seems to reach his eyes...
Identifying Characteristics
None, really. Sure, you would recognise him but he's nothing special in appearance. If anything, his mocking smile would be the standout.
Physical quirks
His fingers are long and dexterous and standout from his more brutal appearance.
Special abilities
Vladislav was once a Whisper, a rare supernatural user of the city. This was unknown to himself and use of the Device transformed his powers.
Now, Vladislav can teleport in a blast of space bending energy. His range extends to 2 miles and he can go anywhere he can visualise. Perhaps, with the Device's help, he could do more... who knows?
Apparel & Accessories
His clothes mark him as an old noble; rich waistcoats, elegant pocketwatches and fine leather boots adorn his person but now bear the marks of the road. Stains cling to the velvet, buttons appear missing and the pocketwatch clunks to twelve every hour.
He also possesses a fine set of lecturer robes. The back falls to mid-thigh, but on the sides they drop lower still. The sleeves are long and once would have brushed the ground, before Vladislav modified them. The collar is the deep scarlet silk of the Academy. They are quick and work well as a outside coat.
They are a light grey, conspicous to anyone who knows the Academy, and mark Vladislav as having obtained Professorship. The very highest rank the Academy offers.
Specialized Equipment
He holds a fine set of tinkering tools, of his own design, and a bandolier that is capable of holding an array of chemical compounds, bombs and other tools.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Vladslav Sokolov, regarded as one of the smartest men alive by many, was born the bastard of a rich man of the city. Unacknowledged by his rich father, he was swiftly thrown into a orphanage in one of the rougher districts in the city.
His quick wits and prodigal ability with invention led to the appearance of Mr. Yellow, who offered the young boy an education at the Academy and a life away from poverty. The sponsorship of the technology wing of the government allowed Vladislav to reach great heights indeed.
At 21 he was made a Professor of the Academy, where he published many groundbreaking papers (including one that offered an explanation for the supernatural powers of the Whispers). Vladislav became rich, fat and happy! Then Mr. Yellow came to collect on his investment.
Far from upset, Vladislav was happy to join the group Mr. Yellow led: the Innovators. A group of the greatest minds in the city, and soon Vladislav was leading them. He met his wife (a government employee) who opened up a small slice of compassion in his heart, had his daughter Eyas, and found a peaceful existence in tinkering with the world around him.
Things changed when his wife died, and he created his greatest invention yet. The ability to grant a normal man the abilities of a Whisper. Perhaps it was the death of his wife, perhaps the moral pleading of his daughter. Perhaps it was simple greed. But upon his creation of the Device, Vladislav felt a tinge of regret. Could he give the powerful men in charge, who already held the city in a death grip, superhuman powers? No-one would ever be able to question their authority ever again.
Vladislav decided to use the Device on himself. Little did Vladislav know he was a Whisper himself and the abilities of the Device played havoc with his innate powers, transforming them into power space-time powers. The Council of Elders was alerted however and Vladislav had to flee into the night with Eyas, using his new teleportation ability to escape.
Mobilising the deadly assassin, Formel, to hunt the wayward inventor, the Council of Elders and the Innovators will have their revenge.
A Personal History of Vladislav:
324: Birth
325: Given to the orphanage by his unknown mother.
333: Spotted by Mr. Yellow and taken under his ring. Enrolled in the Academy.
340: Graduates from the Academy. Bcomes a Researcher.
342: Becomes a Lecturer at the Academy.
344: Becomes a Professor at the Academy.
346: Mr. Yellow comes to collect his investment. Vladislav is taken to join and The Innovators. He also meets his future wife, Maria.
348: After a worldwind romance, Vladislav and Maria marry.
349: Eyas is born on the brightest day of the year. Perhaps a small omen to her pure heart and unwavering willpower.
354: Assigned Summa Mens of the Innovators.
358: Maria dies; some suspect foul play. She was becoming more outspoken against the Council of Founders. This disillusioned Vladislav's faith in his employers.
360: He creates the Device. He defects from the Innovators, stealing the Device as he does so.
Education
Vladislav was educated at the Academy, the greatest centre for education in the known world. Those who attended looked down upon other Universities (like Clear Water University), an attitude encouraged by the elitist establishment.
Like any budding nobleman he learnt about all manner of things; art, politics, literature. He also specialised in alchemy and dabbled in medicine. In the latter two, Vladislav proved himself to be quite gifted.
His greatest gifts however, lie in bio-mechanics and theoretical physics. Whether it be allowing something to phase through an object, or placing a living brain inside a robot, Vladislav can do it. This ability is the lynchpin of his genius and sets him far beyond anything his academic peers could whip up.
Employment
Vladislav was scooped up my Mr. Yellow at the age of 9. From then he was placed in the Academy for learning. He graduated early (unsurprisingly) at the ripe old age of 16 and was then employed as a researcher. He soon excelled, gaining the rank of lecturer rapidly at 18. The only reason he did not obtain Professorship earlier, despite posessing the qualifications, is because a large cable of the Academy hated the eccentric inventor. He was coarse, loud and not a noble by birth. However, his subliminal papers meant he could ignored no longer and he was soon, with clenched teeth by his peers, granted Professorship at 23.
He enjoyed life at the Academy. It was the cutting edge of technology, with the smartest minds around. Of course, Vladislav found them slow but he enjoyed bouncing ideas off of them. He would watch with glee as their faces contorted with concentration before he finally gave them the answer in simplier terms. He delighted in his students also; he was a rough mentor but he enjoyed the rapt faces of people basking in his knowledge. He was a good employee; mean, but liked by the students for his devil-may-care attitude and accepted by his peers for his genius.
It is a known fact that he made modifications to the security system at the Academy, much to the chagrin of Mr. Yellow after Vladislav went rogue.
At 25 he was snapped up by Mr. Yellow and sent to work for with a group called 'The Innovators'. Now these were Vladislav's people... no-one in the city were smarter than them. Soon Vladislav was creating inventions and furthering science beyond the wildest dreams of man. This is how he has also gained such a remarkable ability in alchemy and medicine; the Innovators hold many abilities unknown to the masses...
His employment there was even more fruitful and he made many friends in the Innovators. Indeed, he even took control of them, eventually, when Mr. Yellow decided to step down and hand over leadership to his protege. This, of course, ended once Vladislav betrayed the Innovators and ran for his life. Good things cannot last, it seems.
Relationships
Alignment
Chaotic Neutral
Currently Held Titles
Age
36
Date of Birth
22nd April
Spouses
Siblings
Edward Leongling
(Half-Brother)
Children
Gender
Male
Eyes
Grey
Hair
Brown (Greying)
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
White
Height
5'7
Weight
78kg
Ruled Locations
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Saying Goodbye
25th Aprileth 1063 AF
And here it is, the end at last. Tomorrow, Caerbhall heads off towards the Dreamlands, of wherever else he may want to go. Takuma will embark on a life of adventure, exploring the mysteries of the world, and I shall remain shackled to a throne until the end of my days.
The end of the Company.
My thoughts are mixed on my position, if I am frank. I never wanted to take a throne; I wanted adventure but after having had one I'm not so sure I want that either. I think all I really want is for Magden to return, for the chance to speak to my mother and father. That, of course, is something not even a Kingship can buy.
Moreover, I didn't expect to make it this position. I saw death in my dreams and the snuffing fire of my own greatness. Now I survived I suppose I'm still waiting for someone to tell me otherwise. I accomplished everything so easily that I feel it was a dream and I still have the tasks ahead of me to undertake. Of course that cannot be true, otherwise I wouldn't hold this burning guilt in my chest. I wouldn't have to hide my nightmares from Jen.
I embarked on the quest to save others, to save everyone and I failed in doing so. Worse, I had to take the final life myself. I've heard the people are calling me Martin the Great but the only thing I seem to be 'Great' at is failing others. I fought with all the strength I possessed but I couldn't save members of the Kingshield, I couldn't save the young cubs and pups that had their lives ripped away in a instant when the Otherking ambushed us. With the bravado of a fraud, I led men towards their deaths. To save the Realm? Or to boost my ego, to make a father proud who I never even met? And then instead of turning the Otherking, and saving those he dominated, I killed him, likely snuffing out the light of a thousand worlds he was maintaining. Some may argue, as Takuma and Caerbhall have, that I needed to do so. He was too dangerous to be kept alive... that feels like an excuse to justify a wrong. Now I have to settle the fact I have blood on my hands, and I likely will indulge in more before my reign finally ends.
Sure, I put on a brave face for Takuma and Caerbhall. For Jen. For Lela. I may even appear carefree. But as my powers develop all it means is I can experience all the suffering around me. No matter how much help I can offer, I know I can't fix everything. As before, I feel as if I've been thrust into a position I am wholly unprepared for and uniquely tailored to fall short at. With my friends leaving that means I only have Jen to support me and I cannot place my full burden on her. It is already breaking myself; I can't ask another to take that. Tomorrow my hand will shake when Caerbhall leaves, and Takuma soon after. I shall then become a single light against the darkness of my own mind, but remain I must. Ever flickering.
I cannot let them know this however; it is not their weight to carry and so I shall smile, until I cannot any longer. I shall find solace in my family, in a daughter I can raise to be better than I ever was. Ardon may be broken, for now, so Lela shall be my shield against my tortured thoughts. Not as a crutch, I hope (what a wretched role for a child) but as a reminder I have accomplished something of pure good. And with my teaching and Jen's, I hope she can grow to be better, happier, and less confused than I ever was.
So I have my daughter, and Jen. I have my duty and I can do my utmost to build this realm for the many, not the few. I am happy, mostly. But I am also aware of the hypocritical nature of my role as sole ruler. I know the falsehoods behind my victory, the many bodies I have had to run up to hold my banner high. My sword may only be soaked in the blood of one, but somehow I still seem to have waded through a pool of it.
Martin the Great indeed.
Fitting for a Crown
1st Septemberith 1062 AF
The duel with Arthur was fierce and I still carry the injuries but it needed to happen. Hopefully the result can make Arthur rethink his views. Please guide him Mithani.
It feels strange to have reached this point. More than half a year's journey, culminating in my coronation. If you had put me in this situation a year ago I would have either thrown up, run away, or sat there to be crowned on the basis I was too worried to let me own voice be heard. But now I don't feel any fear, or even any excitement. It just feels like a neccesary step forwards. I suppose I do worry about ruling. After all, my entire tenure as crown Prince has been in service of defeating the Otherking. I can't believe others would actually allow me to rule, to make decisions on their behalf.
There, I shall have to rely on my friends. Caerbhall holds the simple, earthy roots. He's stubborn but he has his moral heart in the right place. And Takuma is the pragmatic one, the one who can see the river past the reeds. Together I think they should be able to help me not make too much of a toss of it. And I'll always have the teachings of Magden. If I listen to my heart, and try to do right, what more can I do?
I hope I can unite the realm.
Getting Better
12th Augusteth 1062
This past week has been a whirlwind. I feel as if an entire life's worth of activity has happened in that time. As this happens I worry again about burning out... I still feel as if my future is already marked out for me.
I managed to see Magden again. I don't know if it was from my own power, or something to do with the Ring. Perhaps it can cross dimensions? I'm starting to feel a little overwhelmed with these artefacts but then again maybe that's a good thing. My last fight with the Otherking wasn't even a struggle. I tried to turn him, to appeal to his animal side... but he appears to be too far gone and I won't let others die for the life of a tyrant and a murderer. He almost killed me. I think I have the ring to thank for escaping.
Magden... it was peaceful and exactly the goodbye I needed. He seems happier now. I hope that's true. And he told me it's loyalty that makes a King who he is. I suppose I understand but I don't know if I agree. I can't imagine it really matters at the end of the day but he told me he was proud of me. That he was wrong about me. I needed that. I wish I could have stayed with him forever. I feel like a failure all the time; I couldn't even save all the lizard-Others. But perhaps I need to not be so harsh on myself? I did everything I could. I broke a curse! I saved them and won their loyalty. That should be enough... maybe it is. Either way, I have a much larger challenge on my hands. I need to win the realm back from Arthur's poison and bind him to Rhioden so we're ready to fight. The skies are growing darker, always; the final war is approaching. But honestly, it's fine. I feel fine because I know all I can do is fight for what I believe and if I die perhaps I will see Magden again. Perhaps I will see my mother, and my father. I'm sure they would tell me they're proud of me and maybe when that happens I'll be able to accept it.
I feel stronger now as if I carry a small piece of Magden in my heart. That old robber, always carrying out his own plans whilst everyone was still trying to work out the situation.
I feel a fire in my breast, spurring me onwards. Rhioden has a life of its own; I can't imagine losing a fight with this sword in my hand and Caerbhall and Takuma have come, bearing the armour. It feels alive to touch, shifting beneath my fingers; a part of me is excited to take the fight back to Undying and make them pay. I'm sure Takuma and Caerbhall share the sentiment.
The nomads seem brusque but not altogether 'bad'... Moreover, Takuma's eyes have become strange... almost like Magden's, but maybe I'm imagining that. Surely.
Magden
10th Augusteth 1062 AF
He's gone. He left me and I couldn't do a single thing about it. I tried so hard to summon the magic. I tried! But I was useless in the only real moment I've ever been needed.
I didn't even get to tell him how I've forgiven him, how I don't hate him, not at all. How I love him and I wish I could tell him how sorry I am for what I said. For everything I did but I couldn't. For everything I should have done but wasn't able to. He was there! He was so close, right beside me. I should grabbed him and ran. I should told him to stop being such a selfish, silly, brave fool. I shouldn't have charged the Others. It's my fault he's dead, isn't it? If I- I let him die, I was the idiot who thought I could strike down the Others with a sweep of my sword. My father's blade, shattered. I've failed both of them today.
But I would see a thousand of my father's swords shattered if I could only have another minute with Magden. Just one more, so I could tell him how sorry I am, I could tell him I still don't understand what it is to be a King. I never knew. I just want to tell him goodbye. I just want to know what his last words were. I missed them, Mithani help me, I missed them. Magden's last words and I, I couldn't stop bargaining, trying to bring him back. I've lost everything. And his eyes... they broke me. He used every last piece of magic to save us. I broke him, drained him. Killed him. It's my fault.
Please, just come back to me. A need something, a body, anything. I don't even have anything to bury, to visit. He's gone. It hurts so much. Trapped in a swamp, Magden dead. Oh, Ram, his tower will be gone too surely. He's dead. I can't even face the ruins of it. I can't bring myself to face his book in my backpack. His voice. So close, but gone. Just a void in the fabric of the world. A sharp, dark, jagged reminder that he wrote that, but he's dead. He won't write anything anymore.
I have to try and be strong. It all seems so petty now. Gods, dark Kings, traitors, adventure. The pathetic dream of a cub who had no idea what he had to lose. The sharp impact of reality rushing up to crush my flailing body. I was so wrong, so needy... my lust for adventure, for purpose left Magden on the... I can't even say it.
Why couldn't I do anything?! I'm the fucking ancestor of Leondric, some warrior of the gods. Why couldn't I do anything?! Why was I so useless?! What's the point of me if I can't even save a single life! Why pretend I can stop a King who is so cruel, so powerful when I can't save even a single- I can't do this without him. I can't, I... he wasn't with us but he was there. I knew he was- I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this.
I have to. But I have to. For Magden. I don't know if he believed in me, I never heard what he was trying to say. I wish I hadn't- I wish I could have at least cradled his head, listened to his final words. I never did, I rubbed my hands together, I spoke over him. I'll never forgive myself, he was dying, so small and broken and I spoke over him. I made him struggle to be heard. I'm a monster. I missed them, I've lost the last part of him and I don't even have anything to cherish.
He wanted me to be King, so I'll do it for him. But I won't take joy in it. I'll get this fucking sword, and I'll rally the lizards. I'll do it for him. And I'll kill this so-called Emperor. And I'll even rule, because I have to. But by Mithani, I just want to see Magden again. I just want to be done.
Desperation
29th Julyeth 1062 AF
Dearest Jen,
That fool! Arthur has betrayed me, attempting to stage a coup and kill me in India. And worse, he has recruited the Raj to his side with false promises of independance. It frustrates me more than it worries me. I thought I could appease Arthur and bring him to my side, with time. But it was not be. I am angry Jen; I care not that he has tried to take the throne, or tried to kill me. What angers me is that he is putting the Realm and its people in danger for his own selfish gain. I hate animals like him, he's- I apologise Jen, it's frustrating.
The good news is I gave him something to remember me by. I must have broken his nose and I managed to use magic to burst his eardrums. He won't be hearing things for a while. And when I ascend to the throne he will found himself locked up, for good.
It does turn up a problem though, beyond the whole 'tried to kill me and will ruin my name' thing. We've lost the Ramans, one of the armies we needed to face the Otherking in combat. We need something else... something too dark perhaps to even mention. Jen, I need you to send me any books you can on the Great Swamp. Put it in the same location I have been teleporting the letters.
I'm going to bring the dwellers of the Great Swamp to our side.
I'm going to unite the realm in a way not even the Unifyer did.
And we're going to kill the Otherking, once and for all.
The Origin Festival
23 Julyeth 1062 AF
A triumph, despite my misgivings! And a another blow against Lui Bei and his ilk who seek to divide this realm (or at least further their own gains). I can hardly contain my own excitement with the whole day! And Jen, what luck. I hardly expected what was to happen but now I have I... I struggle to even find the words. It is clear to see, I think, that my mood is light! Only the arrival of the Otherking could ruin it. It is soured of course, that I must leave Jen... but she understands her duty, as do I, and I can only hope we can reunite under a victorious flag.
And credit to my companions; not for their competition wins, though those were splendid, but for their growth in character. Caerbhall is growing everyday into an animal to be proud of; it is a far cry from the time when I held misgivings against him joining the Company. In fact we are slowly becoming, dare I say it, friends? At least I feel I know him better, and at times even seek his company for a game of Fhess or a cup of tea.
Takuma is not there yet, but he shall be closer once he sees my gift. Caerbhall is finding his purpose; needs must I turn my attention towards Takuma. He needs to feel valued, of which he is, greatly. But I won't be shy in reminding him of this. And hopefully a certain something can remind him of his destiny and his ability to do great things. That something I shall keep to myself, in fears he reads this before the arrival. He's a changed man though. No longer will I fear he will betray us. His words, whilst sharp, carry a certain warmth to them. I doubt he even realises this himself but it's true.
Now we pack our bags and head towards the Tomb of the Leonglings. Where my father met my mother... I sense great things are comong about. Something horrifying, and exciting, in equal measure. I throw Palatine across my back and tighten my sword belt, eager to continue my journey. I hope this feeling of hope and optimism remains true in the coming days.
The Otherking
15th Julyeth 1062 AF
Dear Jen,
I have been a fool. Worry not, this is not a letter of depression! But I understand how ridiculous my troubles on being nothing more than a collection of artefacts, of not being able to stand againt the Bobcat have been. Perhaps a small part of me still feels that way but I'm realising that I am important, more so than I ever dreamed. And I'm special, essential. You were right, when you berated me, however likely, on my attempts to shirk my duty onto my erstwhile, unborn, cousin. This burden is mine alone. And I cannot hope to inspire my companions, Caerbhall and Takuma, if I spend all my time convincing myself I do not have significance. No, instead I shall have to cast the cub aside within my heart and try to be something more. They need a symbol, Jen. They need a glorius, golden King to light their way. Not only my companions but the entire realm. I have no idea how I could ever become that, let alone do without losing my sense of self. And so all I can do is likely what Magden was trying to tell me the entire time, in his deeply misguided way... I have to follow my heart. I have to trust in my better nature and employ every ounce of intelligence and skill to win the day.
I have discovered recently that Leondric, my ancestor, was very likely given the very power of the gods themselves. Or aspects of them at least. Ram's strength, Flori's connection to those around her, and Mithani's power of insight into those around him. Powers I myself possess. King's Magic has been what I call it, but it is more akin to God's Power. I shall continue to stick with the latter though; I would not want to become that who I am fighting and begin calling myself 'His Imperial Majesty'.
The Otherking... I had a dream about him last night. Or, more accurately, my dreams took me to him. He was polite, obsessed with decoreum. Entirely convinced with his own godhood. I will admit I was terrified Jen. I couldn't even see him, let alone begin to think how I would defeat him. But I believe I maintained my composure; I had to. He was willing to bargain, which I found strange. The artefacts for the Realm, a small price perhaps. That, after all, was what they were created for. To stop the Realm's Invasion. Or were they? The Otherking claims there have been other gods, other Kings, all of whom have fallen before his hand. Perhaps my role is not to defend the Great Realm but to stop this tyrant from destroying anyone else. The true scope of my mission becomes clear. Leondric wasn't created to defend the Realm only, I shouldn't think, but to stop the mad tyrant who is subsisting on others. The artefacts are the gods last desperate attempts to stop him.
Strangely, he seemed to care very little about our Wyrd. He seemed to care very little about the Realm even. I feel as if this is all just nature to him. He must have a goal, beyond pure subjegation for ego's sake but I could not divine it in our meeting. Time seemed to have passed very slowly on his end; he seemed to think Leondric had died recently indeed. This might explain why it took him thousands of years to re-invade. Time simply slipped past him. Is that worrying, that he could invade at any moment? Have I caused him to know this? Surely not... he hated having his dominace questioned. I doubt he would have wanted Leondric to die before he could get his hands on him. I am inclined to believe he lied. He wasn;t going to admit to be bested by a mortal animal, after all.
His servants reported the power of Leondric, which made me feel inadequete, I must admit. My blasted ancestor possessed a power which awed the Others. He was so ferocious so as to actually rout the Otherking's servants. The Otherking might not have stepped foot in our plane but his minions did and Leondric, by all accounts, put the fear of Mithani in them. Of course, the Otherking took that moment to remark how pitiful my own power was in comparison to Leondric's. Even asking why he should want my own King's Magic in exchange for the Realm, diluted as it was. It appears, even if we could keep the Otherking at bay for centuries the power of Leondric is slowly slipping away from the grasp of my line. Truly it has to be who finishes it. I cannot afford to delay him further and push it off to what may my weaker ancestors. Of course, the Otherking could be lying again. Or he does not know that, perhaps, Leondric was supercharged by being in the presence of 'His Imperial Majesty'. I was only a shade in my dream; the same effect would not have activated as normal. I hope so. It would not be the first time the Otherking has underestimated us. And I hope that I can come at him with the full force of Leondric and watch his crooked smile die as I plunge my sword through his throat. If indeed, he has one.
We are in Raman now, safe for the moment. I have some plans to further my own legend, a neccesity to inspire the masses, protect the fortress and perhaps, maybe, give Takuma a little bit of hope back. For that, however, you shall have to wait and see. This is one secret I shall keep close to my chest.
With sweet wishes,
Martin
Holding the Shield, Only
14th Julyeth 1062 AF
Dearest Jen,
[Relays the Race to Raman].
And the worse part? I was useless against the Bobcat. I'm now better with the sword, yet I still failed to help... my training was for naught. It's not only that, it's the fact that my being involved made it worse. Caerbhall was telling me to back off because of some queer way in which the Bobcat reacts to him when alone. Understand, I'm not looking to slice Caerbhall's glory. I just wanted to help, to try and inspire him. To prove I have the mettle to be King. But I couldn't do anything and the artefacts failed against him. And now we're on our way to collect a ring? A ring! We should be moving for Rhoiden as quickly as possible, and then the armour. And then I can put Caer in them because a 'king' who cannot even trade blows with the servant has little hope against the Master.
And this is it, I'm beginning to feel more like an object than ever before. I did as a cub, being chased into doing what I must, and as an adult I'm just a pawn for those around me, a key for some artefacts. Without them what am I? Just a lion with a special sprinkle of magic that lets me heal parchment cuts and sense when my companions are miserable, and depressed. Never fear, I can sense their looks well enough without it. Ardon and Palatine should have gone to someone who deserved it.
Strange I know, look at my previous achievements but those were never more than quick wits and a helping of luck. And now we can see what happens when my luck starts to run out and it turns out the most helpful thing I can do is throw my oversized body into the path of the enemy. Even that was foolish. I almost gave myself up to the Otherking, my arrogance allowing me to assume I knew runes and their limitations.
And I still have to inspire Takuma and Caer. With what? My ability to hold a shield which has won me all my battles. I was too afraid to risk my magic, I could have tried to glamour the cart, make it invisible. But I was worried I would lose my magic. My last link to Magden. Pathetic, someone like that doesn't deserve to be King and they surely will not inspire any companion. I suppose I have to do this, the cruel joke that Fate would appoint a lucky lion over those with geniune talent. Takuma with his magic, for all his grumbling I knew he's advancing more quickly than I am and increasing his potential as he does so, and a swordsman that keeps shattering his barriers. One of them should hold the artefacts, of pieces of them. But they were given to the lion who trying to be everything at once, because I have to, but I struggle, Jen. I find it difficult to live up to what I have to do. I can't do this! I can't be everything and I'm failing because of that. I'm not the warrior, of the wyrdian. I'm the figurehead, the package Takuma and Caerbhall have to ferry with them. Think, when I get referred to it's as 'the future King'. That's a title. not an achievement. It's luck, it's a thing from my father. Everything that is special about me has been handed down, whether that's a title of a magic cloak. And now I can see why Palatine hates me, why he rejects me as King. Leondric united a realm and defeated the Otherking; Martin can stumble his way from one success to another. Small wonder that Palatine can see the truth, the luck, the... why would you chose to drape yourself across the shoulders of a tool. What does that make you?
For one of my birthdays, Magden managed to conjure an entire illusion for my birthday. I got to spend an entire day pertending to be a knight, slaying a dragon (my father glamoured by Magden) ending with me carried across town to my 'victory dinner'; in truth a lovely spread my mother had spent the day over. I miss them. And this birthday I get to be carried away, wounded, beaten, a battered pole of wood holding gold. Happy birthday to me.
I am sorry, Jen. Each of these messages must be horrible to read. We're alive though, and making our way to Raman and the King's Seal. For whatever good that will do.
With love,
Martin
A Means of Inspiration
10th Julyeth 1062 AF
Dearest Jen,
I had another dream last night. Something dark. Something... final.
Hopefully my last messages were also received by yourself. I've charted a fair part of our travels but I hope you can also see how much I've changed. Or not, rather... perhaps I have just found myself. At some point I lost my way, and I need to reconcile with the fact that that arrogance, and superiority... that lives with me. I need to be careful not to fall back into its trap.
Finding my mother's letter has cemented what I already knew. I have the weight of the whole world upon my shoulders. Takuma and Caerbhall are supportive and I'm seeing changes in both of them. I don't imagine Takuma would ever have risked his life for others in the way he did when the Bobcat attacked the rabbit village, and Caer held himself well. Without his help, and poor Tawaka's, I doubt I could have done what I did.
I have so much to say, beyond what I've already told you, but I feel that would turn this letter into a tome. I still feel the hurt of Magden's betrayal everyday, I stil rankle at what he was trying to turn me into to. But at the same time I can't stop myself from trying to live up to him. It's strange but I need to learn Mysticism, I need to become a master. My feat at the town, teleporting the entire populace, are (beyond trying to keep the people alive!) attempts by myself to prove myself to Magden. It's the one school of magic I can't have Takuma surpass me in. Because then I feel I would have let Magden down. Why should I care right? Magden tricked me. I truly don't know but I suppose he's buried too deep within me. I can't just shake it off.
And I need to get stronger. The Bobcat toyed with me; only Ardon prevented me being cut in two. I know the artefacts are integral for beating the Others but still, I don't want to be reliant purely on the damn things. Caer is still thrown for a loop by Tawaka's death... I can't blame him, but it does mean I've spent a long time attacking trees in the hope that my ability with the blade will improve. I feel I've gotten better, but perhaps that is just tree fever. Once Caer is ready, I'll ask to train with him again. We're all a little blue, to put it mildly. Takuma spends all day and night buried in that magic book, Caer just rides and stares and I feel as if I'm the blind leading the blind. Everyone is beginning to turn to me, a legend about me is spreading, but I don't know what I'm doing! Everyone expects great things from me; my parents in Rabbittown, Lela, my biological mother, and Takuma and Caer. I've started to see the reality in things you know? Before I thought I was invincible but I've been reading the Art of War by Sun Bird and something is starting to become clear... every success is just another step towards failure. I have to remember that because I cannot succeed forever. I've never lost a duel, I defeated the Lord Marshall in single combat, won a tourney when I've never ridden a Bull, I won a battle almost single handedly, climbed a mountain with two animals on my back, I defeated a mythical beast, teleported an entire town and acted (I feel) politcally astutely in Stormont. I'm not listing these as arrogance, truly. I am aware of where that can lead me. But I list them only so I can make clear how far I've risen. And I know, I just know, I will fail when it matters most. And when it comes to that I hope Takuma and Caer are ready. Because I still feel that neither of them are prepared... Takuma is struggling with his morality, pretending to himself that he's still in this for himself, and Caer, bless him, is one more failure away from sinking back into the drink. Perhaps. fate has not been kind to either one of them, I am realising, and whilst I know I need to lead the way, I'm happy(?) to even, I can't be everything they need me to be. I can't be kind, compasionate, and noble, whilst being fierce, powerful, decisive. I can't ascend that throne and lead the realm. It appears all I can really do is pull off the impossible and whilst that sounds fantastic, to lead a nation, to sit the throne and unite the people... that feels a lot more mundane than one would assume. It requires statescraft, domestic charisma, support. I appear to have made many friends but foolish actions, such as trying to intimidate Arthur, show just how far I am from being able to rally 'my' more troublesome Lords.
I am sorry, Jen. I'm not looking for sympathy. I just feel like I need to let you know how I'm feeling inside because I can't share this with Takuma and Caer. Not really. They need their Golden Prince to rely on, their rock to cling onto. If I show cracks at this stage then I fear they will too. After all, they thought my feat at the town was impossible. Takuma argued with me to abandon the people. I'm not blaming him, that's Takuma, but they're not... I don't know. Not capable, or willing more accurately, to do what needs to be done.
I feel like my road does not have a happy ending here. Again, apologies, Jen, to be so morbid. I cannot see myself surviving this journey, precisely because of my successes. My dreams paint a dark future, Jen. One where I don't think I'm around anymore. I need to secure the future in a way my father didn't. That, I suppose, is in the form of my unborn half-sibling. At least we managed to get the Queen into hiding... she is not foolish. With Arthur as Regent, I imagine they took the warning to protect the trueborn heir seriously. But Caer and Takuma... it's clear to me that I must spend what time I have left, if indeed it is little, inspiring them. Filling them with purpose. Neither truly has a reason to be on this quest. Magden chose them, at random, as always. Takuma needs to find his sense of self again, he has to believe his father would want to do this, and Caer needs to be able to put aside my father and believe in a new King. I have a monumental task ahead of me, Jen. I have to fulfil both those needs so that when I die, they will take up the standard with zeal, crown and protect my half-sibling until they have the power to defeat the Other King. I think my role might only amount to facilitater of their destiny. I have seen things I cannot share with Takuma and Caer. Knives in the dark, from the Other King, from Arthur. Massey, in Kings of Our Time, argues we are born with a certain amount of light. Looking back at my deeds, heeding my dreams... both make clear that I am burning through mine at a spectacular rate.
Great deeds only matter if they have purpose.
With love,
Martin
(PS. My birthday is in a matter of days; we will be calling into Hemple soon. I shall teleport this latter to yourself, and I'm hoping to see your reply in Hemple!)
A Letter to Jen
25th Mayeth 1062 AF
Dearest Jen,
Things have taken a rather drastic turn. I talked to Caerbhall earlier, and his insistence of Edward's fidelity led me to believe that I might not even be his son. I must be a Leongling, in blood, but it's likely I descend from one of the former King's bastards. It's strange, but entirely believable... and I would not put it past Magden to have lied to both myself and Edward. I feel a little lost; I thought I had found my father but it turned out to be just another lie. These seem to keep piling up around me.
I used to think that I had some sort of claim over the throne, on the artefacts but I suppose the truth was very different. I'm undecided but I think I'm going to turn in Palatine and Ardon to the Queen, and her child. Edward's child. I don't deserve to wield them, they're not mind after all. I'm thinking also of rescinding my title as Prince of Callic. Again, this is the title for the heir apparent. It turns out I am anything but. I don't write this to garner sympathy but I refuse to live my life the way Magden did, shrouded in lies. I shall present my thoughts to the Queen, and I shall offer my support in another capacity. As a scholar perhaps, which has always been something closer to my heart. Speaking of, I have gotten further in translating the runes on the cloak. It is an old language, something never seen in this land. I am unsure but if the cloak was 'sewn' by the gods, then perhaps this is the language of them? I wonder if the last ability I possess from Mithani is the ability to read these, to interact with the divine world.
On that note, I've been thinking Leondric was created by the gods, with each giving him a token of their abilities so he might triumph against the Other King. What I'm trying to say, Jen, is that the trip has not been uneventful.
I am sorry, once again, for how I left things. It's no excuse but I've been thrust into a world that I thought I understood and I... I don't know how long I can keep my resolve. I feel like a plaything of the gods. Caerbhall knew, in a way, about my night terrors. I couldn't deny it so his musings has to dangle in the air. I was rude to him and I regret that. I've had so much anger bottled up, I think for years, and now it's coming out and hurting those around me. I wish I could forgive him, Caerbhall, but I feel bitter that he ran off to a quiet village to lick his own wounds and left us. If I hadn't stepped up, Takuma would be dead to bandits. If I hadn't been there, the Basilisk likely would have killed everyone. Killing was supposed to be his job! Not mine but now it's too late to take it back. Now I have the nightmares, and the brutality, as a part of my soul.
Ah, but why should I be wishing that on him either. Because he was already so far gone? Because I'm resentful he got support for trying to get better? Perhaps because I wished- no, not that. I think I may be so angry because telling him to leave the party was my choice, and then he turned it into his. And I have so little choice lately, where it matters, that I might resent him for taking that from me. I think, if he saved me, I may just begin to hate him. Because I don't want his help, but I don't want to have to save him either. I know, Jen, I sound rotten. I don't know what happened to me. I thought I wasn't like this, but I suppose I was, deep down. After all, no-one changes that quickly.
I think it's best that I will drop myself from the line of succession. Learning about Edward changed everything; I have no more desire to exert my authority because I have none. I have no more right to anything. I'm a bastard, as entitled to a throne as some bastard of your great grandfather would be of yours if they existed. It's an odd relief actually. Perhaps I can try to become a better animal now. And be useful. And help people, without having to prove I'm worthy to do so.
With deep affection,
Martin
Fall Winds and False Smiles
20th Mayeth 1062
(Note: No false excuse here, but this could be better. But Martin is not quite a poet so it's accurate to him. Better to focus on the message than the style).
You spent your days wishing for fairytales,
but you lacked what they needed.
You were never brave enough,
charming enough,
good enough.
And you were pushed time after time
but each push drove you back further.
Your hand felt cold as it grasped your father’s sword,
your lifeline,
or so you hoped,
but fall winds carry cold words
and a symbol of indifference.
Companions you loved,
proved false intentions,
and fake smiles,
as they twisted you into something else.
And they did,
because you let them,
because you wanted it.
You wanted to be a hero,
you wished for it
and now all you hold is regret.
Didn’t you know?
Every hero ends up broken,
while fake smiles move onwards to their next champion.
Breath in the fairytales,
smile as they claw away at your lungs.
Spit the blood up upon the puddle at your feet.
And keep moving,
it’s done,
this is your path now.
And smile as you creep down the cold stairs,
down into the dark cellars
and past rooms of the broken bodies of heroes’ past.
And keep walking, keep bleeding, keep changing
until you are one of the corpses left behind
and your new self ascends into the light.
Stay there,
try to control your sobs,
as you are slowly buried,
beneath a mound of bodies and time.
This is what you wanted isn’t it?
Isn’t it?
Isn’t it.
As the Father Says, so the Son Fails
18th Mayeth 1062
What do you do when the animal you trusted was just manipulating you the entire time? Everything was just a lie?
It hurts... and I'm lost, I don't know what I should do now, where I go? Of course, I was never supposed to know! Magden has been prepping me like a prime pig, up for slaughter on the market. But that's not even what hurts the most. The thing that really stings is the fact that Magden never ever really understood me. You threw accusations at me that I would never have helped, that I would have cowered as the Other King destroyed our land. But I wouldn't have, I can't promise that I wouldn't have been scared but I would have helped! I always wanted to help. I always wanted to try...
And he molded me, turned me into a warrior. A brute. He took me and twisted me into the refracted reflection of what he believes Kingship should be. What makes a King, is what Magden kept asking me? The reason I could never answer is because he didn't know himself. Nothing would have been correct because Magden is used to seeing Kings as pawns he can move across his grand chess board. And now I can't sleep for dreams of the battle. For the animals I hurt, for the carnage I caused. I'm twisting into a vile carichature of myself, arrogant, twisted, petty. A ghost who never sleeps, who drifts through the motions assigned.
I should have been stronger. I should have remained who I was. Perhaps this is all my fault after all. I'm just as useless as Magden implied, trying and failing to reach these 'ideals'. Being taught, failing. Always failing.
Unstoppable
25th Aprileth 1062 AF
Where to begin...
The climb was treacherous. With Takuma wounded there was nothing else to do but carry him; the fox had a few tricks up his sleeve though. A small piece of magic when my own failed. I may be imagining things but I feel as if he's, perhaps not becoming moral, but maybe he's doing this whole quest for a little bit more than his own gain.
I feel as if I've been placed in one of the very same stories I loved so much. A walk through a dark cavern, a revelation in the fact the Other King is creating archetypes in our image. And now we're stuck in some moral tale of old. To fight your demons or be assigned to repeat this day evermore.
And throughout all of this I feel just as strange as always. I begun this quest feeling as if I couldn't do anything but now I'm getting worried that I CAN do anything. I managed to teleport a fully grown animal and, despite my arm, climb up a collapsing mountain with two companions on my back. I can't fail! I'm tempted to think it's my father watching out for me (it only makes sense) but I feel as if fate is guiding my course. They always said Leonglings were better than others and perhaps we are? Everything we have accomplished has been because of me; Takuma and, especially, Caerbhall feel like props to still my ego but instead their failures and my successes only fuel it. I hate this, I don't want to feel like this... but the thoughts are growing louder and louder. This time loop is just another easy challenge for me to conquer. I don't imagine I will even need to turn my full attention towards it to suceed.
But success breeds demons, or so the tales say. I can't sleep for visions of that battle. The blood, the carnage. The horrible desire to rip through my enemies with my sword, soaking myself in their blood. Should I feel this way? Is my restraint slipping? For once, it would be helpful to talk to Caerbhall. Ah, Caer... I'm still torn on whether I feel betrayed or not. He ran off to some temple to find himself. Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised. None of Magden's choices seem to be living up to what he tells me their value is. The only people of worth on this quest are Magden and Jen. Brave, foolish old Magden. I don't know if he will ever recover fully but I need him, to guide me. At least I haven't been so consumed with arrogance that I can still admit that. Jen is... something else. A person I wish to continue travelling with. She's remarkable, a real boon.
I was too harsh, on Takuma and Caerbhall. Takuma has talked us out of more situations than I can count and Caer is... damaged. I hope he finds the help he needs but I don't see him ever being able to rejoin the Company. And perhaps that is for the best.
And lastly, Palatine, the cloak. A strange thing... I didn't expect my clothes to have minds of their own. Now, I must go. I have a battle to win. I already have a plan, one worthy of the battles of the past. We don't need fate, or magic. All we need is myself to cleave through this enemy, like usual. It's almost frustrating! Magden promised us struggle, something to dread. But I would fight the Other King tomorrow; another lazy swing of my sword will end this 'great threat' everyone seems so needlessly worried about. I'm Martin. I can do anything.
Kingship
20th Aprileth 1062 AF
Magden asked me what makes a King... I'm still not sure but I'm starting to feel like I'm becoming one. We headed to Takuma's old town (he used to be a Lord, if you can believe that). He seemed to have a grievance with the people there and honestly, it just made me think of my own misgivings towards Caerbhall. I wonder what he is doing now. I hope he's okay. I don't think it's good to hold such bitterness so close to yourself for so long; Takuma is sardonic, sarcastic and bitter. Desperately bitter. I can understand of course, with what happened to his father, but to let yourself be consumed by that...
We picked up a new companion, Piehead. I have to admit I have not warmed to him.
Other than this we have made good progress; we are approaching the mountain now and I can only hope we are prepared. Some bandits attacked us in the woods but I dealt with them swiftly. How strange to write that. I dealt with them so easily, I must admit, I'm starting to buy into my own legend. I'm supposed to be this great King, this destined saviour and... I think I will be. It was striking, seeing Takuma holding Ardon. He looked quite herioc; I can only imagine what I look like holding it.
Oh... poor Takuma. His wound appears to be healing well but he's been rather unlucky as of late. He keeps telling us he's lucky but at the moment he appears to be Mimithian's punching bag. I can't imagine what I would do if I lost Takuma. That would be on me, my fault. Jen is a steady rock to rely on. And a lot more like Takuma than she would wish... I must admit, it's been a delight being with her. Caer treated me like a solidier, a poor one at that. Takuma is all fake respect and sarcasm. Magden has the fate of the world, and his own ego, pinned on me. Jen is the only one who treats me like... well, me. Aware of my role, sure, but just so geniune. And funny, she makes the long road a little better.
Potato Choices
5th Aprileth 1062 AF
Is there no end to this? Things were going this way and I imagine there is a far greater reserve of darkness in store for us. I should have known what Caer was going to do; I should have been better. I let this happen to him, I may have caused it even.
I found Caer's potato, tucked in a corner where he must have dropped it. The King Edward. Perhaps Caer was right and my father truly does speak through it. I'm going to need all the help I can get. Because now I have been confronted with a choice that I cannot get around, whether to continue the quest or support Caer. In either choice I am going to lose. Either the world is destroyed or my freindship with Takuma and Caer is. Maybe I'm being too melodramatic. It's hard to think at this moment.
Takuma will hate me... but the only choice I have is to continue. That's fine, I can add his guilt on top of my own, along with the dreaded nightmares. The sound of steel and the taste of blood. Magden, dear Magden, is the cause of this. How I wish we were back in his tower, playing seek as the walls revolved around me, aiding me in my attempts to hide from him. Now though... I'm worried I'm beginning to resent him. Caer is nearly dead because of him, I have the taste of blood in my mouth and screams of men in my ears because of him. I hate this feeling and I... I just...
I've been walking around, kicking stones and trying to convince myself otherwise but there's only one choice, there's only ever been one. I will lead, and yes I will have to lead, Sun-Jen and Magden to the mountains and retrieve this cloak, even if it means leaving Takuma and Caer behind. Well, besides there hate and resentment; that is sure to be carried with me. If only my father would give me a sign. I'm talking to a potato, wishing it would talk back to me. That frayed string is snapping.
The Golden Rose
29th Marcheth 1062 AF
At least I made amends after that terrible display the other day. Shin-Li was, as expected, terse and did not seem entirely happy with my apology. That cannot be helped, and if I'm honest, I'm not really concerned otherwise. My passion for Shin-Li burnt up as quickly as tinder before an inferno; or perhaps, the fire died as quickly as if it had been plunged in a lake? That makes more sense. I'm rambling, but I suppose that is what journals are for.
I went to see the Shogun; a ceremionial bow and a kind word seemed to smooth the situation over. She told me that only animals from Forte are interested in grand gestures of apology; being the fool I am I decided to make one anyway. I used Glamour to enchant an object of hers into a golden rose. She seemed delighted and I must admit it felt thrilling to make such a forward gesture. I'm rather afraid this is going to become another Shin-Li situation, so I must be careful where I step; if I've learnt one thing it is that I have a tendency to run headfirst into my problems without thinking.
We should be moving soon, once Caer is recovered. I've had a sword commisioned so I may learn the Akanowan style of combat but if I'm honest perhaps I shouldn't have. It seems to have made the nightmares worse. I feel as if I'm frayed string with only a single thread holding true.
Shin Li
28 Marcheth 1062 AF
Today I met Shin-Li again. She was as beautiful as ever and I still felt what I thought was a spark. And things were going well, to begin with. But then I began discussing my family, and Rabbittown and I could see her losing interest. I don't blame her, it's not always the most interesting topic but at the same time she was rather brusque in her opinions about them. She was even unexcited about their major victory at Daybringe! I admit, I was torn and upset. I feel as if I created a picture that was ripped sharply from my hands. a mistake I know, Magden tried to tell me but I was stubborn. I suppose this entire thing is one big learning curve.
I was terribly rude to her however, unbecoming of what I may be. I shall apologise to her tomorrow. It still feels strange to be called out by those around me as some great hero. Ardon did all the work; I won't deny I fought well but I will contest that it was my victory. I don't feel as if was me at all on that battlefield. I don't like who I became, or who I am becoming, especially when I talk to the Shogun. Something about her allows me to speak freely, but that's not exactly a good thing.
Another Dream
28 Marcheth 1062 AF
You have another dream. You are rolling down a hill... the dark grass is springy and as you roll, you see a deep purple sky above you. Lightning flashes across it. The dream shifts, and you see a forlorn fortress covered in mist. Dark shapes shift in the background. You step forward and they disappear suddenly, into the mist...
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