Read a Journal Entry

Journals are player created messages about things in game. Most of the time these can be considered to be known things, as somethig your character heard via rumor, though they can also be flagged as out of character information that is really only meant for your enjoyment as a player rather than for use by your characters (unless they happen to know of it some other way.)

Ultima Revelatio

Written by Asran The Light-Bearer on 41-46-1 (May 27, 2024 15:10)

"Behold, I beheld a great storm rise in Caelum, a swirling maelstrom of darkness and light. The heavens were rent asunder, and the stars fell from their lofty abode. From the east, a blackened sun did rise, and the seas churned with the blood of man, signaling the end of all things." Such was the revelation of the Prophet Dundarak.

Since that cataclysmic revelation, mankind has strayed far from the path of righteousness, forsaking the radiant embrace of the Eternal Sun for the false idols and profane doctrines of heretics and charlatans. Even now, the laughter of fallen gods and the rattling of chains that seperate the immaterial from our realm resound in my ears, a cacophony of insanity that mocks the sanctity of existence.

However, Tonight, the town of Maximara shall bear witness to a divine catalyst.

From my vantage point atop a hill, I inhaled the acrid scent of burnt flesh and charred remains. Below, an inferno of chaos engulfed the town. Structures lay in ruins, with flames hungrily devouring the remnants of homes and shops. The agonized screams of the martyrs pierced the night, a macabre symphony that stirred no joy within me.

The conflagration casts an infernal glow upon the desolation, revealing the aftermath of man's wickedness. Settlers, drawn to this beautiful land in the wake of our last war with the pagans, lie strewn amidst the rubble, their forms charred and frozen in agony. Among them, innocent children, their innocence cruelly snuffed out by machinations beyond their understanding, their screams merging with the crackling of flames. Believe me, i did not want them to be sacrificial lambs, but in the grand design, their sacrifice is but a trifling offering upon the altar of salvation.

As I descend into the abyssal depths of Maximara's ruin, a fleeting doubt, a rare intrusion upon the fortress of my resolve, gnaws at the edges of my consciousness. Amidst the devastation, amidst the orchestrated symphony of destruction, I pause, and in the silence that ensnares me, I question. Does the Eternal Sun truly sanction my deeds? Are my actions, borne of faith and righteous fury, aligned with His ineffable will?

For a moment, amidst the cacophony of chaos, I hear naught but the pounding of my own heart, a discordant rhythm in the flame of my soul. I, who have ever deemed myself the instrument of divine justice, now confront the specter of uncertainty. Have I, in my fervor, misconstrued the signs of the divine? Have I become ensnared in the labyrinth of my own ambitions, twisting the tenets of faith to suit my desires?

I kneel upon the blood-soaked earth, the jagged remnants of civilization biting into my flesh, and raise my gaze to Caelum, beseeching the gaze of the Eternal Sun. Instead in its place is the moon, a pallid mockery of the sun's brilliance, offers no solace, no absolution, only cold indifference.

"Lord of Light," I whisper, my voice a supplication tinged with desperation, "behold thy scion, beseeching thee in the darkness. Know that every deed, every drop of blood spilled, is offered upon thy altar. Grant me thy divine guidance, lest I falter in the crucible of doubt. In thy radiance, I find purpose. In thy will, I find absolution."

The wind, a lamentation born of anguish, carries the song of death and despair, but amidst the tempest, I discern no answer. Clutching at the tattered remnants of my faith, I implore Caelum for a sign, a whisper, a shred of divine reassurance.

It was then I glimpsed The Maximara Cathedral. Its facade, marred by fire and ash, still stood resilient against the darkness. There, emblazoned upon its walls, was the symbol of Aeternum Solis—the sixteen-rayed star, radiant even amidst the ruins. The sight struck me like a bolt of lightning, and tears of joy welled in my eyes.

No!, I cannot succumb to such weakness. My actions, grim as they are, serve a purpose. Maximara is a necessary sacrifice, a stepping stone to the enlightenment of all. My deeds, however monstrous, are justified in pursuit of His grand design.

"And lo, the masses shall rejoice," I yelled, my voice carrying across the charnel fields. "For the Scion of the Sun shall descend from on high, heralding the dawn of a new era. Rejoice, for His light shall cleanse this world of darkness, and in His radiance, we shall find salvation!"

Laughter, tinged with euphoria, erupts from my lips, the grim mirth of one who has glimpsed apotheosis and found it staring back.

Yet, amidst the cacophony of destruction, a woman's scream intrudes upon my communion, and I turn to behold the wretched creatures, the hired mercenaries clad in the guise of warriors from the Ardaling Tribes. For a paltry sum of coin, they sow death and despair, their blades thirsting for the blood of the innocent. They are pawns, vile and expendable, yet instrumental in the execution of my grand design.

Their savagery lends credence to the illusion, obscuring the true purpose behind the facade of barbarism. They serve as tools, repugnant though they may be, yet their utility shall be short-lived. Once their role in this masquerade is fulfilled, they shall be discarded, their lives forfeit upon the altar of expediency.

I see one of the mercenaries, a brutish figure marked by the scars of countless battles, rend a mortal woman from the embrace of life, his blade descending into the depths of her neck. Her blood, like that of countless others, stains the earth.

Sickened, I soon traveled back to the hill where I was greeted by the sight of a hooded figure waiting for me. Even beneath the shadow of his hood, I recognized him instantly—Camillus, one of my most trusted mortal advisors from the province of Weiden. His presence here was expected, but I sensed his concern.

"Why, my lord, did you descend into the heart of this inferno when safety awaited you atop the hill?" His voice was low, tinged with worry. "Your safety is paramount, your guidance indispensable. To risk yourself amidst such carnage... it is not fitting for one of your station." the old man sputtered.

As Camillus spoke, my gaze drifted past him, and I caught sight of my Legionnaires marching into the town. They moved with purpose, their weapons held high, ready to enact vengeance and clean up the loose ends that still lingered amidst the ruins. The sight brought a semblance of satisfaction, a confirmation that my plan was unfolding as intended.

"It was a lapse in judgment, Camillus," I finally replied, my voice imitating the emotion of regret. "A moment of weakness amidst... all of this." Waving at Maximara to emphasize the point. "But rest assured, I am unharmed. Aeternum Solis watches over me, guiding my steps even in the darkest of times."

Camillus nodded, though I sensed the doubt lingering in his eyes.

Moments later I could see the first faint signs of dawn on the horizon. The sky now begins to lighten with hues of pink and gold. The sight fills me with a strange sense of hope.

"Look, Camillus," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, "the dawn approaches. A new day dawns upon us, a day where His light shall shine brighter than ever before."

Camillus turns to me, his weathered face reflecting both exhaustion and concern. "Indeed, my lord," he replies, his voice heavy with emotion. "The dawn brings with it the promise of a fresh start, a chance for redemption."

I nod, feeling a surge of fervor welling up within me. "Ad Aeternum Solem."

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