Frances Graf
The Sergeant-Vanguard
Frances Graf is a landsknecht who notably served in the White Sentinel Grand Company during the Great Kus' Succession Wars, in the campaigns against the Chagoryn Khanate, the Divine Mandate of Kang, and the Dagetovan pretender rebellions. She was a sergeant-vanguard in the 3rd Crimson Dragon Company of the 1st Adamantine Vanguard Regiment, which saw particularily heavy action against the Kang. The company was recalled after the official proclamation of the Union of the Great Kus', which coincided with the end of Frances' mercenary contract; she chose not to renew it, and eventually took a ship bound for Aeryon in search of smaller-scale endeavours.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Born in Reimarshamn, Bergenwall, Frances grew up with her twin sister Francine and the two elder brothers
Francis and Franciscus. The Graf household provided them a rudimentary formal education at the Staatliche Schule Reimar 'the Great,' instead focusing on a highly martial upbringing, with Frances being under the tutelage of Ludwig Lüwenwald, a seasoned landsknecht, up until the age of 16, which is when the Graf children are sent out as new landsknechte. With Francis ending up in the 2nd Zimean Foreign Regiment and Franciscus serving in the Zouave Guard of the ruling Yelanid dynasty, Frances and Francine went to Frankonia to search for mercenary work. This was where the twins separated: Francine took a contract with the Golden Legion and Frances undertook one with the White Sentinel condottieri company of the Merandure Grand Dynasty.
After signing an initial period of five years, she was assigned to the 3rd Crimson Dragon Company of the 1st Vanguard Regiment of the White Sentinels; the first four years were spent in the border regions of the Yelanid Alliance, mostly providing reconnaissance and protection for longer incursions into uncharted jungles on the behalf of the Gemstone League. During this time, Frances' company encountered a vast deposit of adamantium, which was claimed by the League; however, the Merandures sent an army of negotiators who argued that since the League had yet to claim the territory, the adamantium belonged to the White Sentinels. The League folded and part of the adamantium was used to fashion the Vanguard with armour made of it, at the behest of Sentinel-General Caruzzo, afterwards earning the unit the name of the 1st Adamantine Vanguard. Shortly after renewing her contract, the company was hired by the Grand Duchess & Princess Svetlana of Kaliyev-Yarskovy in what would later become known as the Succession Wars.
Frances took part in many skirmishes and small operations against the Khanate and the Kang; the two largest engagements she was involved in were the Siege of Makhattala and in the subsequent destruction of the invading Kang army in the Slaughter of Karakhasa. Frances was commended for valour after assuming leadership of her infantry section of the 3rd Crimson Dragons after its sergeant fell during the battle at Makhattala, later being promoted to that rank. When the wars in those northern countries ended, the White Sentinels were dismissed and Frances chose not to renew the contract with them, though not before buying the equipment that the company provided, which was allowed in her position as an officer.
After signing an initial period of five years, she was assigned to the 3rd Crimson Dragon Company of the 1st Vanguard Regiment of the White Sentinels; the first four years were spent in the border regions of the Yelanid Alliance, mostly providing reconnaissance and protection for longer incursions into uncharted jungles on the behalf of the Gemstone League. During this time, Frances' company encountered a vast deposit of adamantium, which was claimed by the League; however, the Merandures sent an army of negotiators who argued that since the League had yet to claim the territory, the adamantium belonged to the White Sentinels. The League folded and part of the adamantium was used to fashion the Vanguard with armour made of it, at the behest of Sentinel-General Caruzzo, afterwards earning the unit the name of the 1st Adamantine Vanguard. Shortly after renewing her contract, the company was hired by the Grand Duchess & Princess Svetlana of Kaliyev-Yarskovy in what would later become known as the Succession Wars.
Frances took part in many skirmishes and small operations against the Khanate and the Kang; the two largest engagements she was involved in were the Siege of Makhattala and in the subsequent destruction of the invading Kang army in the Slaughter of Karakhasa. Frances was commended for valour after assuming leadership of her infantry section of the 3rd Crimson Dragons after its sergeant fell during the battle at Makhattala, later being promoted to that rank. When the wars in those northern countries ended, the White Sentinels were dismissed and Frances chose not to renew the contract with them, though not before buying the equipment that the company provided, which was allowed in her position as an officer.
Personality Characteristics
Motivation
One day, in Ponvarus, after spending about a year doing independent contracting in La Brouhaha and Terre-de-Mer, Frances was seated playing a game of Seule with other travelers in the Gilded Mermaid when suddenly a loud voice started going off about 'pirate ship,' 'raiding,' and 'Aeryon,' which was followed by a driven minotaur (whose very lacking wardrobe suggested a life on the seas) who, after exchanging a few words with the man, seemed to become beset with rage and hurried out after managing to destroy a table in a single strike, leaving a very disappointed innkeeper in his wake. Frances decided the day after to take a ship to Aeryon for new ventures in the unending search for martial perfection, weapons of adamantium, a more forgiving climate, and perhaps to see what the deal was with the naval minotaur.
Social
Mannerisms
As a military person, Frances is fiercely devoted to those who travel and fight alongside her. Though long marches through frozen wastes, forested hills, and the open steppe has resulted in Frances developing a sarcastic demeanour as well as an inclination towards drink (of the alcoholic persuasion) and playing cards (often with a touch of gambling) ; likewise, Frankonian influences ran deep within the company, which has led to Frances picking up both the language and several of their customs, including the quintessential Ponvarian card game 'Seule.' Nevertheless, as is expected from children of the Graf family, her main goal is to seek martial perfection through the battlefield.
Soldier, twin, and part-time brewer.
View Character Profile
System
Dungeons & Dragons 5e
Class
Fighter
Martial Archetype
Battle Master
Known Languages
Common, Zimean, Frankonian
Family
Francine, sister
Franciscus, brother
Francis, brother
Dungeons & Dragons 5e
Class
Fighter
Martial Archetype
Battle Master
Alignment
Lawful Good
Current Location
Species
Age
27
Birthplace
Reimarshamn
Children
Gender
Female
Eyes
Hazel
Hair
Short brown
Height
6'3
Aligned Organization
Other Affiliations
Francine, sister
Franciscus, brother
Francis, brother
End of the (Ship-)Line
Tridi, Messidor, décade 30, MMCCCV (3701 AM)
The rest of our journey did indeed go well. I told the captain and the rest of the crew about my intention to depart alongside the company, in part due to the significant risk to life for my unit posed by the prince's antics, and in part due to the fact that I can not justify a long-term presence of the White Sentinel Free Company on the Swift Mermaid. In the end, we are mercenaries. That life cannot be sustained on the sea as an uncontracted company alongside sailors and adventurers. I have promised them my full support in Ponvarus, and I intend to try and broker a deal with maralictor Hostilian and the captain, as well as finding my sister and pointing her in the direction of this crew. Differences aside, they are for the most part respectable, and very much capable.
However, the Headsmasher made a number of unwarranted comments about Francine. After that, he allowed me to retaliate in kind because he wanted to spar. He believed that the life of a Hellknight could be for him, and wanted to demonstrate his ability, or lack of it. He was able to stand for ten seconds - training recommended, by a patient instructor. I regret not knocking him senseless. Though, the appearance of a friendly dragon compensated for this. It took the form of a dwarf, and the Headsmasher was the only one not to witness this. Of course, when the dwarf dragon then wanted a brawl, the large man obliged. The dragon eventually knocked him off the ship, and surprised him by picking him up from the sea in his dragon form. Hopefully, he has learned to be better. But I know this to be false.
I can only hope that these companions I once thought of as strange travellers find good luck and fortune in the journeys ahead. The powers that be know that they need it. And I can only wish that captain Dormaruk never has to face the ultimate test of an officer, like I once did. Hopefully, it is not the last time I see them.
The Man of Troubles
Duodi, Messidor, décade 30, MMCCCV (3701 AM)
This day can only be summarised as being detrimental. At first, we rescued eight crewmates from a ship that was under attack from a kraken. Upon docking in Nova Aera, we headed for the Salty Bucket, the captain's tavern of choice. The rest of the day was spent there, and for one reason or another, myself, the captain, and prince Nakor decided to speak with a well-dressed man who was seated in a corner. His clothes bore Frankonian and Zimean embroideries and decorations, and he seemed a bit out of place in a sailor's tavern. Something was off about him. I initially suspected that he was a lawbreaker or a fixer, due to his extremely suspicious description of his work. After some time, we left him and went to the bar. The prince, unable to not interfere, wanted to use his "tricks" on him to make him tell us the truth. I advised against it.
Later, there was time for a few games of Seule with the crew of the Swift Mermaid. It has to be said that Joric has some energy. During this, Nakor excused himself and went to relieve himself. This was the start of the bad events. Apparently he turned himself invisible and eavesdropped on the meetings that this man, Gorick, had in his corner. By the prince's account of what happened after, I had to conclude that he was either a Frankonian or a devil. Normally, however, Frankonians do not take souls - only everything else - which made devil more likely. This was his mess to deal with, but we recommended that he go an inquisition or a Hellknight order to report this. Evidently, he managed to convince some Order of the Nail hellknights to aid him. However, as this happened the devil returned to the tavern, and a vanaran eventually came. The devil left and the little monkey-man remained. Soon after, prince Nakor and the Hellknights arrived at the Salty Bucket, and the aasimar, in his unfailing judgment, went up to the vanaran. Who immediately exploded in a large spell of fire. The hellknights were knocked out and two sailors died, yet this trickster of a prince somehow remained standing.
We debriefed the hellknights and the local lictor of the situation. He promised to eradicate this vermin, and he will also provide a written recommendation for the usage of enchanted weaponry against non-conventional threats, which we are in dire need of. I will have to arrange a meeting with maralictor Hostilian in Ponvarus to this end.
May Iomedae, Shelyn and order itself shield us against the prince of chaos for the coming journeys.
Riddle's End and the Future
Primidi, Messidor, décade 30, MMCCCV (3701 AM)
Two days have gone. During décadi, after finishing my unit update, I went to pay the Headsmasher a visit. Earlier than I wanted, but a rude and nocturnal awakening were conditions I could not ignore. Also, he had been sleeping enough already. I brought him outside onto deck. There was clear moonlight. I asked him many questions, and he was trying his best to dodge away from answering them. Or perhaps shoveling away? In any case, when I asked about him about his "ring business" that he talked about in Zarastil, he finally realised that the only way out of his very deep hole of lies is upward. And he switched voices, for he apparently sought safety in a constructed illusion of being a dim-witted buffoon. Explains his earlier refusal to understand basic haggling, critical thinking, and everything else needed to function in normal society. I think? But he explained that his friendship with prince Nakor was founded on him getting riches from the prince's "hidden treasures." So he had been with him for seven years, hoping for this to happen. He is persevering, but I have to question his sanity. Seven years of what I can only assume of little income? He could have made thousands of gold as a mercenary! When I left the Grand Company, I had around 8000 Frankonian gold ducats to my name - of course, most of it was used to buy the adamantine armour. And the rest went to necessities, gambling, and other recreational needs. By his own admission, the Headsmasher's main objective is to fund his son's education, though I suspect he wants a significant sum for himself. If he was desperate, he could have taken loans to allow his son's studies. When I later explained to him why it might be seen as suspicious to use gold minted in Kang, he became a bit flustered. It seemed that he did not know what to do, but I mentioned the plans I had made, which is also to make gold, but without relying on long and morally bankrupt schemes of deception - no, standard contracts, with paperwork as to avoid questions. For the most part, this gold should be used to update the ship's facilities and captain Dormaruk's crew's equipment, but large amounts should come his - and our - way as well. Prince Nakor later arrived, and I encouraged the Headsmasher to be honest. When he later left, I had some opportunity to learn about the prince. Conclusion: he is still supremely arrogant. He attempted to brush off all responsibility as regards the king of Aeryon's youth, which he clearly had some part when he was ambassador, as he "takes his customs with him." I have few things to say about the Kang, but they are right to be furious about his behaviour. It is clear that he was ambassador in name only, and only acted in his own interests. He says that he is no longer the same man as before. Now he only has to act like it.
That morning I called a meeting with the senior officers and other relevant persons on the ship. We spoke about the immediate future, and I insisted on making sure a written account of the events in Zarastil be produced for when we meet representatives from Frankonia. Prince Nakor believed that his words would be enough. That is the first strike against him acting like a reasonable man. The queen, corporal Vérany, and sergeant Günther set out to write it. As we discussed shared duties between my unit and the captain's crew, an island was sighted. Captain Dormaruk was certain that this particular island was new, which would mean that magic or something similar had been used to hide it. Against all reason, he wanted to investigate. I brought along corporal Vérany and vanguard Kythos. It was quite uneventful, except for the magically-sealed chest that we dug up. We also had to engage a tree golem in combat. Jack, one of the crew, nearly fell to its blows. The vanguards had to resort to igniting oil against it, since our halberds had no effect. Curiously, the captain's new axe did. The prince, in a quite unsubtle entrance, cast a fiery spell which left the golem a piece of charcoal. The riddle on the chest eventually led to us managing to open the chest, as well as inspiring the name for the island: Riddle's End. I will ensure that our charted map ends up in the Pathfinder Society or whoever has any claim to the island.
This day passed without incident. My soldiers are still getting used to ship duties, and I am overseeing the training of the crew alongside ensign Schneiderman. I have also taken to instructing the queen, who is behind the others but who is very quick to pick up new skills. We passed the Bridge of Thuul, and some scoundrel above thought it humorous to spit on the ship. There was some time to speak with the captain, and I inspected the axe, which is clearly magically enchanted. He even allowed me to borrow it from time to time, which is kind, though I intend to make that offer redundant whilst in Ponvarus. I have given corporal Lefrankois orders to prepare a formal request for an equipment overhaul in the company, to be dealt with in Ponvarus. It is imperative that we obtain enchanted weapons of adamantine. The drake and the golem are testaments against traditional weaponry for a company not enrolled on regular military contracts. At the very least, one new halberd per vanguard should suffice. And there is the matter of new recruits, which will have to come later.
Tomorrow Nova Aera awaits. I hope the day is short.
Commander's Notes: Soldiers of the 14th
Décadi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (3701 AM)
Unit update: 14th Section of Infantry, White Sentinel Free Company
Purpose: primary, personnel evaluation; secondary, documentation of soldiers killed in action
Commanding officer: Sergeant-Vanguard Frances Graf
Date: décadi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV
Sergeant Günther von Kalvar
Male, 43 years old, human. Zimean, from Kalvar.
Fellow landsknecht and experienced adventurer. Missed a promotion due to my actions at Makhattala. On my recommendation, succeeded as sergeant of the 14th after I stepped down.
Notes: likes tobacco off-duty. Seems to dislike career officers. First Corporal Villanelle Vérany
Female, 29 years old, human. Frankonian, from Ponvarus.
Well-educated and polite, has been in the company since I joined. Promoted to first corporal by me, battlefield commission during the siege of Makhattala.
Notes: very talkative in my presence. Is known as "V" in personal circles.
Lance Corporal Emmauelle Lefrankois
Female, 24 years old, human. Frankonian, from La Brouhaha.
Like the first corporal, has an extensive education. Ambitious, but has proven competent and was promoted by sergeant von Kalvar shortly after my departure.
Notes: skilled with logistics and in negotiations. Has a number of acquaintances in the Chancellery and Consular Vicariate. Marcel Devereux, Valentin Parlure, Jeanne de La Brouhaha.
Ensign Matz Schneiderman
Male, 28 years old, human. Zimean, from Kleinheim.
Fellow landsknecht, exceptionally brave. Recovered the unit banner after it fell in battle and was unanimously made ensign by the will of the company.
Notes: he is the only vanguard in the Grand Company to have slain a Spear of Heaven with a unit standard.
Soldier First Class Josef Krausser
Male, 25 years old, human. Zimean, from Erz.
Fellow countryman but not a full landsknecht. Reliable halberdier, liked by the company.
Notes: good friends with vanguard Kruger and has luck in card games.
Soldier First Class Evan Mason
Male, 27 years old, human. Scaelorian, from Honeyport.
Former architect, now a good crossbowman and siege engineer. Always ensures the functionality of the unit’s support equipment.
Notes: fervent worshipper of Abadar. Likes to talk about ores and hammers.
Soldier First Class Rania Dorronna
Record stricken.
Date of death: sextidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (approximate).
Cause of death: incineration (suspected) after engagement against a rage drake.
Location: northern outskirts of Zarastil, kingdom of Aeryon.
Soldier First Class Darcassan Westermann
Male, 34 years old, half-elf. Zimean, from Zimmerheim.
Bastard son of a lesser noble family of Zimea. Decently educated in warfare, outclassed by the Frankonians. Unmatched cook.
Notes: probably the only soldier who can make good-tasting food with regimental provisions.
Soldier First Class Karin Kruger
Female, 24 years old, human. Zimean, from Erz.
Fellow countrywoman, not a landsknecht. Good soldier, has strong principles.
Notes: friends with vanguard Krausser and a wonderful debater.
Soldier Second Class Kythos
Male, 30 years old, tiefling. Nova Aeran.
The best tracker and scout in the unit, skilled with a crossbow.
Notes: is the brother of vanguard Qulaia, who perished against the drake outside Zarastil. Somewhat of a naturalist.
Soldier Second Class Qulaia
Record stricken.
Date of death: sextidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (approximate).
Cause of death: incineration (suspected) after engagement against a rage drake.
Location: northern outskirts of Zarastil, kingdom of Aeryon.
Soldier Second Class Ladislas Gardet
Male, 29 years old, human. Frankonian, from Grandeville.
Scion of an old aristocratic family, a refined gentleman. Became a mercenary to prove himself. Excellent duelist.
Notes: is picky about wine. Refuses beer. This is not taken into consideration for the company's rationing.
Soldier Second Class Furqaan el-Ahmed
Record stricken.
Date of death: sextidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (approximate).
Cause of death: incineration (suspected) after engagement against a rage drake.
Location: northern outskirts of Zarastil, kingdom of Aeryon.
Soldier Second Class Haamid el-Elamin
Male, 26 years old, human. Yelanid, from Begdi.
Fierce warrior from a large nomadic clan. Particularly skilled with bladed weapons and quick on his feet.
Notes: dislikes academics. Seems to be friendly with vanguard Kythos.
Soldier Second Class Rashida al-Sultan
Female, 27 years old, human. Yelanid, from Ashdrabad.
Cleric of Desna and former doctor. Accused of witchcraft and covertly recruited by corporal Vérany during a tour through Ashdrabad. Very competent surgeon and healer, possesses standard skill with company weaponry.
Notes: a very kind person. Appreciated by the soldiers. Is not a witch, still has divine healing powers. Even if she was, would have no impact on my evaluation.
Trainee First Class Maajid al-Fahmy
Male, 28 years old, human. Yelanid, from Trapizem.
Arena gladiator and show-off. Justified, considering his dozens of victories in the arenas. Has adjusted to military life well.
Notes: could likely beat vanguard Gardet in a real duel. Regales taverns with exaggerated stories when off-duty.
Trainee Second Class Vidar Berglund
Male, 23 years old, human. Morngardian, from Bornheim.
Strong clan warrior recruited during the war against the Chagoryn. His village was razed and most of his immediate family died. He adjusted to the company’s norms and regulations during the wars.
Notes: was driven by vengeance, but has cooled off. Always good to speak to him to ensure his well-being, considering the trauma.
Trainee Second Class Freja Forsberg
Record stricken.
Date of death: sextidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (approximate).
Cause of death: incineration (suspected) after engagement against a rage drake.
Location: northern outskirts of Zarastil, kingdom of Aeryon.
Trainee Second Class Bogdan Bazarov
Male, 52 years old, human. Dagetovan, from Derbash.
Enigmatic fellow from a small village in Dagetov. Joined after the destruction of the Kang army at Karakhasa, proved a competent infantry soldier during the pretender rebellions.
Notes: has a liking for finances and “the market.” Gives terrible investment advice.
Trainee Second Class Irina Shubina
Record stricken.
Date of death: sextidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (approximate).
Cause of death: incineration (suspected) after engagement against a rage drake.
Location: northern outskirts of Zarastil, kingdom of Aeryon.
Purpose: primary, personnel evaluation; secondary, documentation of soldiers killed in action
Commanding officer: Sergeant-Vanguard Frances Graf
Date: décadi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV
Sergeant Günther von Kalvar
Male, 43 years old, human. Zimean, from Kalvar.
Fellow landsknecht and experienced adventurer. Missed a promotion due to my actions at Makhattala. On my recommendation, succeeded as sergeant of the 14th after I stepped down.
Notes: likes tobacco off-duty. Seems to dislike career officers. First Corporal Villanelle Vérany
Female, 29 years old, human. Frankonian, from Ponvarus.
Well-educated and polite, has been in the company since I joined. Promoted to first corporal by me, battlefield commission during the siege of Makhattala.
Notes: very talkative in my presence. Is known as "V" in personal circles.
Lance Corporal Emmauelle Lefrankois
Female, 24 years old, human. Frankonian, from La Brouhaha.
Like the first corporal, has an extensive education. Ambitious, but has proven competent and was promoted by sergeant von Kalvar shortly after my departure.
Notes: skilled with logistics and in negotiations. Has a number of acquaintances in the Chancellery and Consular Vicariate. Marcel Devereux, Valentin Parlure, Jeanne de La Brouhaha.
Ensign Matz Schneiderman
Male, 28 years old, human. Zimean, from Kleinheim.
Fellow landsknecht, exceptionally brave. Recovered the unit banner after it fell in battle and was unanimously made ensign by the will of the company.
Notes: he is the only vanguard in the Grand Company to have slain a Spear of Heaven with a unit standard.
Soldier First Class Josef Krausser
Male, 25 years old, human. Zimean, from Erz.
Fellow countryman but not a full landsknecht. Reliable halberdier, liked by the company.
Notes: good friends with vanguard Kruger and has luck in card games.
Soldier First Class Evan Mason
Male, 27 years old, human. Scaelorian, from Honeyport.
Former architect, now a good crossbowman and siege engineer. Always ensures the functionality of the unit’s support equipment.
Notes: fervent worshipper of Abadar. Likes to talk about ores and hammers.
Soldier First Class Rania Dorronna
Record stricken.
Date of death: sextidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (approximate).
Cause of death: incineration (suspected) after engagement against a rage drake.
Location: northern outskirts of Zarastil, kingdom of Aeryon.
Soldier First Class Darcassan Westermann
Male, 34 years old, half-elf. Zimean, from Zimmerheim.
Bastard son of a lesser noble family of Zimea. Decently educated in warfare, outclassed by the Frankonians. Unmatched cook.
Notes: probably the only soldier who can make good-tasting food with regimental provisions.
Soldier First Class Karin Kruger
Female, 24 years old, human. Zimean, from Erz.
Fellow countrywoman, not a landsknecht. Good soldier, has strong principles.
Notes: friends with vanguard Krausser and a wonderful debater.
Soldier Second Class Kythos
Male, 30 years old, tiefling. Nova Aeran.
The best tracker and scout in the unit, skilled with a crossbow.
Notes: is the brother of vanguard Qulaia, who perished against the drake outside Zarastil. Somewhat of a naturalist.
Soldier Second Class Qulaia
Record stricken.
Date of death: sextidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (approximate).
Cause of death: incineration (suspected) after engagement against a rage drake.
Location: northern outskirts of Zarastil, kingdom of Aeryon.
Soldier Second Class Ladislas Gardet
Male, 29 years old, human. Frankonian, from Grandeville.
Scion of an old aristocratic family, a refined gentleman. Became a mercenary to prove himself. Excellent duelist.
Notes: is picky about wine. Refuses beer. This is not taken into consideration for the company's rationing.
Soldier Second Class Furqaan el-Ahmed
Record stricken.
Date of death: sextidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (approximate).
Cause of death: incineration (suspected) after engagement against a rage drake.
Location: northern outskirts of Zarastil, kingdom of Aeryon.
Soldier Second Class Haamid el-Elamin
Male, 26 years old, human. Yelanid, from Begdi.
Fierce warrior from a large nomadic clan. Particularly skilled with bladed weapons and quick on his feet.
Notes: dislikes academics. Seems to be friendly with vanguard Kythos.
Soldier Second Class Rashida al-Sultan
Female, 27 years old, human. Yelanid, from Ashdrabad.
Cleric of Desna and former doctor. Accused of witchcraft and covertly recruited by corporal Vérany during a tour through Ashdrabad. Very competent surgeon and healer, possesses standard skill with company weaponry.
Notes: a very kind person. Appreciated by the soldiers. Is not a witch, still has divine healing powers. Even if she was, would have no impact on my evaluation.
Trainee First Class Maajid al-Fahmy
Male, 28 years old, human. Yelanid, from Trapizem.
Arena gladiator and show-off. Justified, considering his dozens of victories in the arenas. Has adjusted to military life well.
Notes: could likely beat vanguard Gardet in a real duel. Regales taverns with exaggerated stories when off-duty.
Trainee Second Class Vidar Berglund
Male, 23 years old, human. Morngardian, from Bornheim.
Strong clan warrior recruited during the war against the Chagoryn. His village was razed and most of his immediate family died. He adjusted to the company’s norms and regulations during the wars.
Notes: was driven by vengeance, but has cooled off. Always good to speak to him to ensure his well-being, considering the trauma.
Trainee Second Class Freja Forsberg
Record stricken.
Date of death: sextidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (approximate).
Cause of death: incineration (suspected) after engagement against a rage drake.
Location: northern outskirts of Zarastil, kingdom of Aeryon.
Trainee Second Class Bogdan Bazarov
Male, 52 years old, human. Dagetovan, from Derbash.
Enigmatic fellow from a small village in Dagetov. Joined after the destruction of the Kang army at Karakhasa, proved a competent infantry soldier during the pretender rebellions.
Notes: has a liking for finances and “the market.” Gives terrible investment advice.
Trainee Second Class Irina Shubina
Record stricken.
Date of death: sextidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (approximate).
Cause of death: incineration (suspected) after engagement against a rage drake.
Location: northern outskirts of Zarastil, kingdom of Aeryon.
A Royal Disaster
Nonidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (3701 AM)
It seems Shelyn did not keep us. The dinner itself was passable, and the king annulled the contract with the White Sentinels. Sergeant von Kalvar was happy to relinquish command back of the 14th. However, the king informed us that Nakor was a prince of the Kang dynasty and former ambassador to Aeryon. Not only that, he did not spare details regarding the prince's insubordinate, rash, barbaric, disrespectful, and distasteful viewpoints and behaviour. Naturally, the king held him in high regard. After dinner, the king introduced the prince's favourite recreational activity - ingesting illegal substances in high dosage. I do not recall if he even offered me, but given the king's low opinion of women in general I believe he avoided it. The Headsmasher, the prince, and Dormaruk - who is now the commander of a ship, so I will refer to him as captain, as is customary - all went into a back room where the city's pleasures of the flesh were made manifest, apparently. As the final piece in this cascading catastrophe, the king revealed a long grudge he had with the prince - evidently he had an affair with the queen whilst he was ambassador. The king wished him dead and used vanguards from my unit to beat him. The prince retaliated by channeling the power of the so-called "son of heaven." If only he knew how ineffective that power is on the battlefield, except for a hasty retreat. Regardless, the king became frozen in fear and the prince assaulted and branded him in retaliation. I ordered my men to fall back, informing them of the cancelled contract with the crown. Two held their ground, though they were from the 7th Crossbows and do not answer to me. When I told the prince to stand down, he spoke with such idiotic zeal and overconfidence that I almost thought he had become a paladin - sworn to himself. He ignored my orders. Even if he was right to strike back, this course of action was inadvisable.
I had everyone from the 14th gather in the dining room, and had everyone collect evidence, mostly the "party drug." Captain Dormaruk managed to convince the almost-paralysed queen to come with us, which was a wise initiative, considering that the king also, apparently, wished her dead. He then went on to loot some expensive trinkets, as did the Headsmasher, which was not a wise initiative. I would have them dishonourably discharged from duty, but they are not soldiers, nor am I their commanding officer. Still, some restraint would be prudent. I suppose the king already have enough reasons to hate anyone within the prince's circle of acquaintances. At the end of the prince's vain attempt at intimidation, he seemed to regain his memories. The Headsmasher is probably in disarray.
We marched in formation out, or my unit and I did, the rest walked with. We went to the Merandure trade office, and I believe that monsieur Rapapo has had enough of Aeryon by now. He promised to aid us get out. Captain Dormaruk owes this title to the financial sponsorship of this small office, because he had a contact in town who just happened to have recently lost a captain of a ship. The formalities were short. The departure came early. I only had a few hours to assess the crew, who all knew Captain Dormaruk since before, and they seem like a good sort, albeit disorganised and careless. This will change. The Headsmasher kept digging deeper in whatever he is currently doing. I will toss him overboard unless he speaks with truth tomorrow. The folksguard apprehended us before we left, but a spell by the son of the businesswoman made most of their bolts miss, There were a few injuries, no permanent loss. Except from the genasi crewmate who seemed to interpret my "do not return fire" as "cast fire" which left at least one folksguard seriously wounded or killed. A creative reading, but not recommended nor necessary in this situation. After that, we were off.
The ship is adequate, but needs expansion and improvements. My unit is being trained in rudimentary ship maintenance. We are headed for Ponvarus and the Chancellery, which will hopefully sort out the situation for the queen - she needs a safe haven and a formal divorce, and I do not think the "Swift Mermaid" currently housing a renegade manic prince and a certain sham artist jötun qualifies for the first nor do we have the authority for the second. After that, I will have a few errands to run in the city, in my capacity as acting commanding officer - perhaps sergeant-captain? captain-sergeant? something less confusing, like grand sergeant? - of the 14th Section of Infantry of the White Sentinel Free Company. I have to ensure that the new responsibilities and logistical needs of this contractual change in the unit's organisation are communicated and the titles appointed. Sergeant von Kalvar as vice commander, Corporal Vérany as aide-de-camp, corporal Lefrankois as quartermaster, ensign Schneiderman as acting instructor, soldier Kythos as first scout, soldier Rashida as chief surgeon. It is in the company's interest to coordinate this with Captain Dormaruk and his crew.
A few days at sea awaits.
Brawling and Petitioning
Octidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (3701 AM)
I spent some time playing dice with a pair of dwarves at the Sour Barracuda. It is a rough place. Fortune stood on my side in the game. The others arrived later in the evening, and it took little time before Dormaruk noticed an old adversary bragging before a group of orcs. Obviously, a fight ensued. The scale of it required the Headsmasher and me to intervene alongside a part of Dormaruk's old crew. I clocked two of the orcs, and it took little time before the other orcs also were out cold. Dormaruk engaged this Flynn in a duel, which ended with the orc escaping after drinking an invisibility potion. We patched up the orcs, who did not speak Common, which Dormaruk realised way after he started interrogating one of them in a manner which I can not support. Afterwards Dormaruk went out to have a look at the Pitched Wanker outside. It was docked, like the rumours suggested. The brawling orcs seemed to have gained some respect for us, and the Headsmasher in particular. Even though his creation Timmy did the heavy-lifting for him! Before the night, I shared my suspicion about the letter the old man gave us - bearing in mind the information we had at the time, it is not outside reason to suspect the captain of the Folksguard as being the subject of the letter.
We were summoned in the morning, but not before monsieur Rapapo arrived. He did not have a long night's sleep, but found a way to release the White Sentinels from the king's employ. By convincing the king to end the contract. The king's Moonlit Keep is extravagant, possibly impressing the vainest of emissaries. Strategically easy to defend, however. A surprising turn of reality happened when the king spoke - he knew who Nakor was. He quickly realised that Nakor had lost his memory. Nakor then entered into a lengthy conversation with him, and maintained a somewhat casual tone which somehow did not offend him. He promised us payment for the drake, and seemed to consider the idea of cancelling the contract. Also, he invited us for dinner, which we have no choice but to attend.
In preparation, we went to the Merandure trade office and prepared the formalities. We also looked into the family records, which had no trace of the Pitched Wanker since the mutiny. Later, it occurred to visit a tailor to get Dormaruk and the Headsmasher some finer clothes. A local Zimean by the name of Helga was recommended by monsieur Rapapo. When we presented ourselves to Helga, the Headsmasher let slip that we were headed for a royal dinner. This motivated Helga, who took four hours to complete the order. During our spare time, we had a look at local contract opportunities, and we went to the local temple of Desna who seemed to have a problem with noises in the catacombs. However, the noises were only heard during night, and we said that we would come back.
Dormaruk and the Headsmasher went to get their new clothes, and Nakor and I headed back to the tavern. I tried to inquire about his seemingly shifting personality - he has started to show signs of initiative-taking without elements of foolishness or amusement, as well as affirming that he comes from the Kang dynasty. He did not think of this as a change. Also, he could not perceive the Zimean humour when I remarked that his elaborate blue cloak, that he apparently has had in possession this entire time, could be cut with scissors to better fit him.
The palace awaits. May Shelyn keep us.
Where all Roads End
Septidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (3701 AM)
This morning I had to wake up the Headsmasher and Nakor the trickster. A routine affair. The Headsmasher was not properly dressed - at all - this was no surprise, and I have seen worse in the regimental barracks. He also tried to disguise an obvious lie when he wanted to "show" Dormaruk something in the room. I have thoroughly inspected our lodgings, and there is nothing of interest, certainly not enough to show. After we had breakfast we left for Zarastil. When we came upon the outskirts of the town, we sighted a merchant's carriage under attack by a large draconic creature. A drake. This drake was in the process of eating the horses. Naturally, we readied for a battle, except Nakor who believed that a peaceful resolution could be achieved. His magic enraged the drake, and it charged at us. It was ferocious, wild, and seemed to have it out for me in particular. I made the mistake of getting too close to it, though it would likely had defied all logic and charged at me regardless. It periodically caused flames to surround it, which could have been proven fatal had Nakor not used two of his magic projectiles, which visibly crippled it. The drake tried to run, but Dormaruk ended it. Whilst I went to drag out the merchant from under the wagon, Dormaruk began beheading the creature, as he customarily does, and I caught glimpse of something stuck to its teeth. It was a torn piece of crimson cloth. I requested that we open its stomach. I recovered the remains of five White Sentinel vanguards - only parts of their adamantine armour, as the rest had been dissolved. I mourn their loss. I have to identify them, and inform the remaining vanguards of this inexplicable loss. The merchant we rescued, Quentin, claimed that there were ten at the king's castle, though I later learned that it was close to 40.
After passing through what I can only guess to be the orcish slums, we were let in by the folksguard, who gave directions to their headquarters. On the way the rest decided to take a detour into "Trader Joe's Extraordinary Relics and Artifacts." A terrible attempt to invite potential customers. From what I heard standing just outside, this Joe exhibited all the typical signs of an artificial merchant personality, surpassing even the worst Ponvarus has to offer. "Ancient artifact taken thousands of years ago from the personal backyard of a black dragon, I must insist on a price of 1000 gold otherwise the other merchants will laugh at me during the guild meetings." Infuriating. The Headsmasher tried to haggle with him, but he has the sharpness of a dull dagger. I suggested he buy a shovel for all the holes he keeps digging. That also went over him.
We were let in without incident to the office of the captain of the town's folksguard. Magron Flintbench. He informed us that there was no bounty for the drake. The king has apparently contracted two White Sentinel sections to be "bodyguards." And then sent five of them to slay the drake, ignoring to issue a bounty, completely disregarding their safety, and ignoring every thinkable precedent in military protocol. Captain Flintbench also hinted that the king had impulses, which seems to be the reason he hired them in the first place. Concerning ealdorman Farriver and the village of Amarley, he promised to do something to help them, and pointed us to Lodhire's Scriptorium to decipher our letters, as well as promising to set up a meeting with the king the next morning. On the way to the Scriptorium, I tried to teach the Headsmasher the proper etiquette for haggling. He had a hard time, but seemed to understand the absolute basics. Herr Lodhire had quite a magical arrangement for his library, with stone guards, runes, and a bell that would summon him from his studies down to the counter in an instant. He translated the signpost as "Forest is in possession of the aldo-illithid tribe, seekers of sustenance go elsewhere" and the note as "Pain, don't, keep, trust, enslaved, leader (could mean king, captain, or something similar)" The runes on the robe signified a disintegration spell. This is all the more reason to spend as little time as possible in this accursed land. I also took the opportunity to buy a relevant bestiary, "Aberrations and Dwellers of the Deep ," by the famed Volo, as well as a blank book, which I will use to write something of my own. Perhaps about warfare? Or the arts?
Afterwards we went to the harbor district, where our group separated. Dormaruk ran for one of his old ships and the Headsmasher and Nakor descended towards the Deepmarket. I went for the trade offices. The Frankonian one was managed by the Ostenmancs and the Merandures. I entered it, and was greeted by a confused assistant. I explained my situation, and she arranged a meeting with the local Merandure representative, monsieur Rapapo - I think his name is written like that - and I informed him of the loss of five vanguards. He reacted with utter soullessness, "bad for business." I was undoubtedly dealing with a true Frankonian. Who are the worst part of Frankonia. He said that the king had hired two sections, led by sergeants Günther von Kalvar and Erik Storsmed. Sergeant von Kalvar's presence confirms my suspicion that my exact unit is here. Also, monsieur Rapapo explained the details of the contract, which can possibly be annulled. I suggested that the contract be annulled, that I rejoin as sergeant, and that the section be redesignated as a Free Company of the White Sentinels. He was receptive, and we spoke afterwards of the king himself. I understand that he is quite different in private. Also, he thought the 3rd Crimson Dragon Company was "cool." Apparently Sergeant von Kalvar had an explosive disagreement with him that nearly resulted in his execution and a conflict with Frankonia. For simply wanting to accompany the five who were sent after the drake, but was not allowed to. What a Stecknadelkopf of a ruler! Even a Zimean farmer understands that proper soldiers are led by example. Monsieur Rapapo wants to be present during the meeting, and he recommended that I not make any remark that questions the king's judgment or mental state.
I will go over the following with monsieur Rapapo: I must be honest with the king. I will appeal to his apparent need of protection. The vanguards died. They did not meet his expectations. They failed. Can they be trusted to keep him safe? As their former sergeant, I can with authority argue that they have become substandard in performance. It is painful to even write this, but I hope this line of reasoning will convince him to cancel the contract. If that happens, I will rejoin my brothers and sisters and personally see to it that the relatives of the five fallen vanguards are informed. And to begin recruiting replacements. This would not only put me at ease and again give me a sense of purpose; but also strengthen our endeavour against Dormaruk's old crew.
Now to wait for the others at the Sour Barracuda.
Remembrance
Sextidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (3701 AM)
The day started early in the dawn. Not for Dormaruk, the trickster, and especially not the Headsmasher, whom I and the trickster had to wake up. Dormaruk had some unfinished business with Deorgria. The Headsmasher was not keen on being up in time. I jokingly berated him as I would an unprepared vanguardsman on an unannounced reduction in their sleep cycle. He did seem to take this as a challenge, which is a first. However, he also took it as a chance to strike at me with his fist. Plate armour can withstand crossbow bolts and troll bites. Made of adamantium, nothing of this world can dent it. The Headsmasher's punch was decidedly ineffective. He is still far away from the high standards of a White Sentinel. The brutes of the Iron Brigade would probably be a better fit. Regardless, I will offer both the Headsmasher and the trickster training in something. Perhaps heavy armour? Dormaruk's resolve and ability speak for themselves. We left the village after a short detour to the general store. Herr Ginte mentioned a monster that was prowling the outskirts of Zarastil, and that some mercenaries had been sent after it. Worth looking into. The trickster persuaded him to give him one shiny coin in exchange for some exposure that he is supposed to give the gentleman in the capital of this backwater. We left thereafter.
As Dormaruk and I had travelled this road before, it was an effortless day. The only break came in the form of an old man in a black robe who gave Dormaruk a letter written in Deep Speech. After the trickster offered him an orange, the "man" disappeared in thin air, only leaving the robe behind, which I now carry with me. Another thing to investigate in the capital, or wherever we can find relevant information. We ended the day in the Empty Cauldron. Dormaruk and I joined two strangers for songs. We later spoke with them, a halfling and a man. The halfling claimed that soldiers from my former unit had been seen in Zarastil heading to the kings's castle. Dragon-head insignia and crimson cloth, which rules out the 1st, 2nd, and 4th companies of the Adamantine Regiment. It could be one of the other Crimson Dragon infantry sections, or the crossbows, or the scouts, but I still know most of those officers by name, and if it is my exact unit, I have to meet them! If only to imagine Zéphyrine amongst them. Of course the halfling later admitted to being a former pirate. At least he was willing to part with some information concerning the Pitched Wanker and its crew with Dormaruk. I do not know what manner of company the trickster and the Headsmasher found, but it looked like a wandering circus.
I insisted maintaining a rotating watch with Dormaruk, since we may be tracked. He thought it unnecessary. Perhaps, but I could at least collect my thoughts in written form. Minotaurs are not quiet sleepers. Tomorrow we reach Zarastil.
Day at the Raging Bull
Quintidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (3701 AM)
We turned in Deorgria to the local herbalist upon returning to the village. Payment was received, the contract ended, and signatures filled. The trickster got his 75 oranges to add to his existing infinite amount of them. The captain directed us to herr ealdorman Farriver, who gave us some information about the sign by the forest, which will take us to Zarastil. It is written in Deep Speech, and Dormaruk recognised a name in it. Of a mind-affecting creature, which somewhat connects to how the bugbear behaved earlier. It is a surprising development on Dormaruk's end. Owlbears were a novelty, but not this? Perhaps there can be a mutual exchange of information - it would increase our group's tactical readiness. Regardless, most of the day was spent at the local inn, the Raging Bull. Since the innkeeper Marion did not have Zimean beer in stock - probably never having - I brewed some. It turned out popular, so I brewed more. And so it went, since both Dormaruk and the trickster drew people in. I became a barmaid. At least I set a proper price for the ale, and I got to share in the profits. And Marion is decent. The Headsmasher managed to recall his encounter with the local blacksmith, and they had a date. It went well. He even barked an order at me, to make them food. If only that sudden determination of his could be directed towards battle! Also, I still reserve judgment about his introduction to Klara - how is a divorce attractive? I will not be using that kind of défaitisme as an inspiration.
The tailor awoke during the day. She is in a stable condition, and she could not remember much, though she does seem to suffer from memory lapses. Dormaruk managed to get some information pertaining to his old crew from her, though why he insisted on speaking in Elvish to her is beyond me. I will not rule out that she may be exposed to whatever the bugbear was under the influence of, and talked shortly to the herbalist about what we saw before.
There is nothing recreative in Amarley, so I took a walk in the nearby outskirts. It was calm, nothing like the constant noise around the cities of Frankonia or the familiar songs and marching of the 3rd Crimson Dragons. Upon returning I requisitioned a healer's kit. I do not see the others taking up the role of a medic any time soon. Especially not the trickster. We played dragonchess and Seule during the afternoon and evening. I lost most of the games. After that streak I spoke to him about the utility of using a pavise shield as cover. He did not laugh it off entirely, but seems to think of himself as immortal. Must be why he hid in the bushes during our standoff with the goblin warband. Supreme arrogance! Perhaps he simply wants to agitate me. So far it has worked, but only because he makes little distinction in attitude between "fooling around " and "we are in mortal danger."
This was our last day in this village, and in the morning I have to retrieve the Headsmasher from Klara's house. Then we head for Zarastil.
A Duel for the Tailor
Quartidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (3701 AM)
Our plan of attack on the cave was initially a partial success. The Headsmasher's constructs managed to lure the sentries towards us, and we took down the ogre in a somewhat coordinated ambush. However, the trickster Nakor attempted to confuse the goblin by manifesting an illusion of another goblin next to him. Clearly being one of the more intellectual of his kind, the goblin saw through the illusion and ran into the cave. As this was happening, Dormaruk decapitated the ogre, intending to intimidate the warband by showing them the mutilated remains of their compatriot. I was witness to many such barbarous displays with the Grand Company - the centaur raiders of the Khanate believed it would demoralise us - but vengeance for the fallen instills more resolve than any commander. Of course, a goblin warband is not nearly as disciplined as a White Sentinel regiment - Dormaruk's thinking was sound. Soon after the goblin's retreat, a platoon-sized group of ogres, bugbears, and goblins appeared at the entrance. Again, Nakor created an illusion, this time in the form of a female goblin. As to why he has such a knowledge of goblin anatomy, I can only guess. Still, this caused what I can only describe as insubordination - the goblins and bugbears started killing each other , hoping to win the favour of the supposed woman in front of them? When the fighting subsided, their leader came out, we were seen, and thus our element of surprise was gone. Nakor remained unrevealed, since he hid some way from the rest of us. The plan was no longer relevant.
Dormaruk went ahead and started negotiating by throwing the ogre's head out in front of the warband. There was some back-and-forth chest-pounding. Ultimately, the warband started laughing at his threats. Considering their vast numerical and tactical advantage over us, this was justified, albeit unprofessional. The leader then offered a bad deal - that I be turned over to them in exchange for Deorgria. I appealed to their obvious pride, and instead asked for a duel against one of their champions, turning myself over if I lost, and us retrieving Deorgria if I won. They accepted, and their champion arrived - a troll! Not a great outlook. But it was the only choice that could lead to us succeeding that day. The battle was more even than I expected, despite one of the ogres going in to attack the troll mid-duel. I can only assume it to be Nakor's doing. Quite reckless, since I suspect they would not have hesitated to attack us all if they discovered that our side was trying to influence the outcome. The troll was clearly not a normal one, making no sounds at all, even upon suffering grievous injury. It perished all the same. I can now add having fought and bested a troll in single combat to my list of experiences. This practical display of martial prowess visibly intimidated the warband - no laughs to be had - and they even held up their end - they brought out Deorgria, unconscious. After confirming that it was her, it was time to leave. Not a moment too soon, since the leader's state of mind reneged on the deal as we set out to depart. So we very hastily left, with the Headsmasher using one of his inventions to delay the warband. When we came upon Trongdong's bridge, Nakor mimicked the tailor's voice, suggesting that the goblins had failed, and that he should exact revenge upon them, which he left to do. We destroyed the bridge afterwards, and set out for the camp we made the day before. The tailor did not wake up during mine or Nakor's shift, only mumbling in her sleep. "Not the ship," and "ship," words that will calm Dormaruk's nerves, assuredly.
In the morning we return victorious to Amarley.
Before the Storm
Tridi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (3701 AM)
Yesterday was somewhat interesting. Before leaving our camp and the dead owlbears behind us, I spoke with the group, and the Headsmasher in particular - about his decision not to aid Dormaruk during the battle. He appears to feel an obligation towards Nakor in particular, due to having known him, but not towards myself and the seafaring minotaur, due to not knowing us. It is a strange statement - how can you decide to join a number of complete strangers in battle - or adventure, I suppose - and not trusting fully those by your side? He did make a promise to Dormaruk, which is something at the least. Then we left, travelling in two small groups, as to not make an easy target for ambush.
We followed the ogre's trail to a river with a bridge, with a corpse near it. It seemed to be of a man, and in his hands he held a note with two riddles on it, which was an indication of what was to come. Dormaruk went to have a look at the body of water, but was greeted by a troll, who climbed up from what I can guess to be a lair near the riverbank. He introduced himself as Trongdong, and it was made clear that we could only pass the bridge by winning a game of riddles against him, and if we lost, we would be eaten. After deliberation amongst ourselves, I suggested we accept the challenge but also be ready to retreat if we lost. Trongdong also mentioned that he was stationed here under the orders of a mistress, who recently passed alongside an ogre. Unless the troll is mistaken, it appears that the tailor we were hired to rescue may be something else? Perhaps their leader, or someone this band of goblins, ogres, and bugbears believe to be a leader? Trongdong also called me ugly, which is definitely a first. Regardless, the troll was well-acquainted with many riddles of legend, but the Headsmasher managed to conjure a riddle that he could not answer. Trongdong became very angry and destroyed the bridge. Or, cut the ropes at least, and Dormaruk skilfully roped back the bridge and we re-fastened it.
A few hours later we came upon a mountain and a cliff. There was a cave entrance guarded by a goblin and an ogre, and both Dormaruk and Nakor believed it best to charge immediately. I talked about how important it is to know your opposition, and proposed that we watch the entrance and its surroundings for a few hours to estimate their numbers. It was begrudgingly accepted by Dormaruk, who went to sleep. So did the Headsmasher. So I and Nakor took the role of observation. We also spoke a bit, and he has no memory of anything before he "saw light, and the ugly face of him" which was the Headsmasher. He did not even know what a family was! However, he does somehow remember speaking with a dragon, but somehow believes that he was born and raised in an inn. I spoke about the White Sentinel Company and of my unit in the Succession Wars, and briefly about our skirmishes and battles with the Chagoryn Khanate and the Kang. Nothing seemed to awake anything in him, but I still believe he hails from the Kang. Further, he calls magic "tricks." I assume he never went to school. I also drew up a plan of attack, to try and demonstrate the benefit of employing tactics to one's advantage. He seemed disinterested, but accepted it. Nakor did suggest to try and goad the ogre into attacking the goblins with his "tricks." It could perhaps work? During our observation we noted two rotations amongst the goblins, and none for the ogre. The rest of the group also saw the map, which will draw out a few of their number into an ambush. Following these goblins' standard lack of organised fighting, I expect the rest to either charge or retreat into their cave. If they hole up inside, they likely expect to lose in an open engagement, so we could either charge inside and crush them or wait them out. I know what approach Dormaruk will take, and do not disagree with it.
The watch is over and it is now time to wake the others.
The Pair of Owlbears
Duodi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (3701 AM)
We entered the forest west of Amarley. None of us understood the sign just at the edge of it, and Dormaruk ended up throwing it at Nakor, adding to his head trauma. Eugene vanished with a portion of our gold. With some strategising, I suggested we make a hidden camp ten minutes march from the beginning of the trail, as a safeguard for our stay here. Afterwards I proposed that two of us undertake some light reconnaissance - to try and introduce some thought and discipline into our band of misfits - of the road ahead. The task fell on Dormaruk's and my shoulders, since both the Headsmasher and Nakor fell asleep mid-suggestion. We went out, but the dark came a bit too quickly, and I now understand that minotaurs can not see in the dark. However, sound is equally revealing, as it became obvious that an owlbear was moving towards us as we set out to return to the camp. I explained the concept of an owlbear to Dormaruk, and we went to hide behind some trees. The owlbear continued in our direction still, and was dangerously close to us, so I very carefully found a rock and threw it far sideways. Owlbears are animals, incapable of understanding simple distractions, and this case was not an exception, and we waited several minutes until it could no longer be heard, then we hurried back to camp. During my watch I began writing a letter to my sister, as well as writing about yesterday's events. The next shift was the Headsmasher's, so I informed him about the wandering owlbear, and to be on the lookout for a bear with the head of an owl.
It was during Nakor's shift that the owlbear was sighted, and he woke us, and we readied up. Dormaruk hurdled a rock that Nakor made shine bright, as an attempted distraction, but the owlbear saw us and called for its mate. Dormaruk impulsively charged the owlbear, which was brave. However, the group's unclear battle roles resulted in him being seriously struck down without anyone near to drag him out. I had gone to protect our rear from the owlbear's mate, which came at Nakor. I moved to draw it towards me, but for some reason the Headsmasher, who I saw go towards the first owlbear, went to assist me instead of attempting to aid Dormaruk. Did he not realise the peril that he was in? I must speak to him about how preservation of life comes before anything in battle! No glory in burying brothers and sisters. It was instead Nakor who managed to save Dormaruk by incinerating the first owlbear. The second owlbear moved to attack me after I struck it in the shoulder. These creatures are very perceptive, but have no technique, so I evaded its lousy attacks and countered with follow-up attacks, which severely injured it. The Headsmasher's construct of a "son" then killed it. Nakor and I then stitched up Dormaruk, who will bear scars for life. I tried to advocate for the usage of armour, but to no avail. Then I collected two trophies from the owlbears. Someone in Amarley proper may be interested in these creatures' deaths.
We have now rested and are about to follow the ogre's trail deep into the forest.
The Strange Travellers in Amarley
Primidi, Messidor, décade 29, MMCCCV (3701 AM)
The last few days have been spent alongside Dormaruk the seafaring minotaur, who very much lives up to the sailor's name. A bit too much. When we arrived at Amarley he charged into the inn, whose owner he knew. The other notable people inside, who I now know to be Nakor, who speaks like no Kang I ever fought and who insists on the nickname "the Blue Rider," Kazagal Headsmasher, who admitted to having smashed Nakor's head, possibly causing his strange speech, and Eugene, a taciturn local. Nakor introduced himself by insulting Dormaruk. Kazagal was in the midst of building some sort of replacement of his son. Eugene sat alone. Soon after a goblin ambush descended on the village. The lack of discipline was astounding, but expected. Who hesitates in such a situation? Perhaps a quicker and more coordinated response could have minimised our casualties. Anyway, Dormaruk ran into combat with commendable bravery, and Eugene can shoot a bow. I took down two goblins, which is unremarkable, and Nakor seemed to shrink himself. I can not think of any reason as to why. The Headsmasher brought his unfinished son into the battle, which is worrying. Some of the enemy managed to escape, and we found out that the tailor Deorgria was kidnapped by an ogre. Pretty similar to some old folksongs I suppose. Dormaruk hates horses and wants a wagon that swings. But, the grandest injustice of the day was when the innkeeper Marion seemed ignorant of Zimean beer - I do not know what I expected. The second injustice was when the dwarven captain of the guard insisted on a verbal contract regarding our pay when he offered us a job to rescue Deorgria. Has he never spoken with people before? Nakor wanted 75 oranges in return for a smaller payment, so I suppose the Headsmasher truly did a number on him. I had to use one of my own paper sheets to this end - I prepared those for correspondence with Francine! If written contracts are rare here, I suppose I will need to purchase even more in the future. Before embarking on our search westwards towards the forest where the ogre went, we stopped by the blacksmith Klara Greybelt. She turned suspicious towards Eugene, who may be a thief. For some forsaken reason Kazagal attempted to flirt with her, and by some divine intervention it worked - and well, for she now wants to "speak" with him upon our return. I inquired about adamantium weapons, which turned out to be a possibility. Interesting that she did not comment on my armour - maybe she has connections to the Merandure family and has worked extensively with adamantium before?
Then we continued, out of the village and towards the forest.
