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One of the few whole journal entries, this section has been surprisingly overlooked by most historians of the Age. In recent years, though, there has been a recurrence of interest in this era, especially as this is one of the very few firsthand accounts of what was later called ‘The Battle of the Wooden House.’

Much has transpired since last I touched quill and ink, and I fear my recollections have dulled because of that. As with so many things, time seems to be the true enemy – between the time I spend with Auqui, or alone with my blade and the forms, or speaking with Malcolm and Radskyrta and Rainald and the hours, there ne’er seems to be enough hours in the day. No sooner have I risen with the sun to work the forms than it seems the day is ending and I must to bed.

But I digress. This has been a good day for our forces, though at a heavy price. Even now, the sounds of merrymaking are loud as the Huallapan celebrate a major victory against their Vasar overlords.

Where to begin? At the beginning as my Father always said. So…

The Bear Clan sent warriors as promised to aid the ‘People of Wood Houses’ but they were truly barbarians and ill understood the concept of private ownership. Many times we saw them simply take that which they desired from Viracocha’s people, and he came to us with many complaints. Magnifico and Mendel both declared to speak with the clansman battle leader and I accompanied in case bloodshed became inevitable. As before, Magnifico showed poise and guile, never as much as when he asked Mendel to call forth Light to cow the savages.

And in that Light, we saw Vasar. I sprang forth without a mind for my allies, shouting out an armcry, and fell upon the scouts with terrible fury. Others joined – Rainald, Malcolm, Dane and Talon – but my blade was truly an extension of my arm and I felled seven before the battle ceased. After, I found that my allies were all battered and bruised, though I eluded injury entirely, and even young Auqui had joined into the fight – against my orders, again, which leads me to the difficult realization that I must find a way to force him to obey. Mayhap a threat to cease my lessons?

Again, I digress. Many torches were seen at a great distance and it was decided that I and Dane would scout forward. We ran through much of the night, he and I, before reaching a Vasar camp. There was no denying that it was a warband, numbering some three hundred strong, with half Huallapan slaves. Many egg-like containers were withing that camp though we knew not what was in them even if we suspected they may hold Controllers. Back to the village Dane and I ran, reaching it many hours later, and we reported our findings before retiring to recover.

A full day was lost in preparation and I did not learn until after I rose that Magnifico averted a complete loss of the clansmen. As I saw nothing of what happened, I cannot say how he accomplished such a task, but the warriors remained when they sent their women and children to safety.

It was decided that standing idly by was no choice at all and an ambush was planned. Once again, Dane displayed great skills as he planned and we – my companions and the Bear Clan warriors – set upon the Vasar as they crossed a small creek. Our attack took them by surprise but they rallied well enough and we retreated, leaving many of their numbers dead or dying. Back at the village, our numbers swelled with the Huallapans so desperate to remain free and the Vasar could not breach our walls. Magnifico and Mendel combined their guile and skills to erect a magickal illusion of our wall weakening – I know not which of them did what, only that they conversed and it was done. The Vasar thundered forward directly into our strength and they fell back in disarray. We pressed them then, throwing our full numbers at them, and they were broken.

Auqui … I cannot be more proud of him were he my own blood. He is but a boy and yet in our final push, he was there at my side at the van. Thrice I saw him break blades against Vasar and ne’er did he hesitate to seize fallen weapons and press on. His form was perfect – I daresay I have ne’er seen Two Hares Leaping done more perfectly. He took wounds that he should not have were he more skilled but his bravery is beyond question. The Clansmen too look at him with new eyes though I fear his fellow villagers now treat him as if he is no longer one of them.

There were losses though, none more terrible than Auqui’s own father. He fell protecting children and I saw with my own eyes the grievous wounds he accepted so they would not. Is there a better death? The Church teaches us that “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends” and Auqui … again, I could not be prouder of him. He held his father’s hand though the man was already lost and whispered words I have not heard. “The last embrace of the Mother welcome you home,” he said before asking for my aid to lay his father to rest. Even now, he twists and turns in his blankets, lost in his grief.

This do I swear to the Lord my God: I will take this boy not as a student, but as a brother, a son, an apprentice. My blood before his shall be my oath and I will train him to be the greatest bladesman of his generation. This I swear.

Exertion and the long days behind me take their toll and I must abed. We shall see what the morrow brings.

The next legible journal entry by Auditore is clearly some time later and references events not recorded elsewhere (save perhaps over-the-top dramatizations in the Song of Rainald, which experts in all fields agree is very unreliable.) There are later indications in his various writings that Auditore himself may have destroyed some of these pages, though no one has yet offered a valuable explanation for why. Some theories indicate hold that Auditore was infuriated by the eventual resolution of the Huallapan crisis, while others – generally those that take a more cynical view of his personality – believe that he eliminated as much evidence linking him to the broken promises that eventually led to the Second Great Riftwar. In any event, when Auditore’s journal resumes, some time has clearly elapsed.

Experts have poured over this particular entry repeatedly, with many offering approval for his attention to detail, especially in light of the eventual fate of the Huallapan clans during the Second Riftwar.

When we arrived, we beheld an impressive host of barbarians, all colorfully attired and painted. They smote their weapons upon their crude shields which made a terrible noise but we could tell that this was some sort of ritual declaration of strength. I looked to Rainald to lead us through such uncivilized behavior but the gleeman Magnifico stepped forward.

This I saw with my own two eyes and had I not, I would have called the man telling me thus a liar. The mightiest of these Huallapan clansman stepped forward as if to greet us but hurled a mighty axe at Magnifico. It was an impressive throw – I have seen Rainald hurl a spear that distance and accuracy but with some effort – and we feared for the gleeman, but he stepped aside and with swiftness none of us had before beheld caught the axe by the haft. The clansmen went silent as did we and Magnifico returned the gesture by hurling one of the Vasar glaives we brought as tribute. It was light and well balanced and flew true and the clansman caught it in much the same manner. A great hue and cry went up and the painted man held the glaive aloft to great adulation. We each of us looked at the gleeman with shock and I daresay he seemed as surprised as we.

A new clansmen stepped forth then and we took him to be the headman or chief for he towered over even the Huallapan who had thrown the axe. He and Magnifico spoke. I remember not the exact words that were said but record them as I recall.

‘What business have you with the Bear Clan?’ the Huallapan asked.

‘We bring glad tidings and an offer of friendship from the People of Wood Houses,’ Magnifico answered. ‘We seek allies in a struggle against the Vasar and so seek out the strongest of the clans.’ The headman and his warriors stirred at that though in approval. At this the gleeman gestured for some of the gifts – more Vasar glaives taken from the fallen; the bread we had brought was to be offered later, during the hoped for feast in hopes that the headman would react with pleasure as did the clansmen we had captured – to be presented and the headman approved. More words were exchanged – these I cannot recall as I was watching closely for treachery – and another approving cry was raised which we learned was the chief’s agreement.

And then we were feasted.

We beheld the Bear Clan in their glory and it was a spectacle of barbarism and uncivilized behavior. Every male amongst them carries an axe or crude club and without those weapons they are never seen. Their axes are carved from stone or rough hewn dragonglass. Clubs are decorative but appear to be taken from the bones of giants or from animals I have never beheld. The women too are armed though they oft carry broad knives or short spears. From the tips of the fingernails to the neck, each of them were adorned with painted tattoos of things I did not recognize.

They are also the filthiest race I have ever had the misfortune of knowing. With my own eyes I saw many of them go to stool in what appeared to be a designated spot and then resume feasting without bothering to wash themselves. Twice I saw a warrior void themselves and then rut with a nearby willing woman immediately after. I thank God to have been spared such an upbringing.

The food was raw or burned but edible. There was nothing resembling order in the serving – the animal was butchered and placed upon a spit over a fire and one simply took what one wanted. As one would expect, in such chaos brawls were frequent and brutal. I saw three warriors beaten near to death and left in the dirt. The headman laughed and cheered along with everyone else and once wrestled a younger Huallapan for a leg of something. As we hoped the bread was received with great delight.

I must admit that I ate little and never fully relaxed. The clansmen watched us and I stood out in my white cloak only less so than Magnifico in his coat of many colors. Thrice I rejected offers to rut with filthy clanswomen though I did so by feigning a lack of understanding – none appeared insulted and quickly found other suitors. I know not if my companions refused such offers as well.

When the dawn came

The entry ends in mid-sentence.

 

This morn finds us within the walls of the Huallapan fort we helped erect. I have neglected putting my thoughts onto the page for nigh on three days – much of that was spent on foot as we escorted those we liberated from the hive to the cliffside village where we first met the Huallapans via the magickal portal erected by Viracocha’s father, Pachacuti.

The spelling of this Hullapan’s name remains something of a mystery as Auditore uses several different versions throughout his retelling. In some instances, the name has been crossed out and respelled, almost as if Auditore himself was unsure how it was meant to transcribed. For the ease of translation, we have used the most common iteration of the name.

The villagers met us with pitchforks and wonder when we arrived, a full dozen stronger than when we departed. The reunion between Viracocha and his father reminded me of how I last saw my own sire and I looked away from the moment. To the Lord God I pray that Viracocha must ne’er give his father the mercy stroke as I did.

Auqui was present and eager. Again I fear that instructing the boy was a mistake – with Pachacuti present we are not long for this place and an ill-trained swordsman is as much a danger to himself as to others. Auqui quickly sought to show me that he had practiced and indeed I saw an improvement so slight that few would notice. His stance is better and he flawlessly assumed The Cat Crosses The Courtyard when I named it. Would that I had met this boy in better days for I do not doubt he could become the best bladesman I have e’er seen with more instruction and time.

But Time is the Enemy of us all.

Much of the day was spent in rest as the rescued villagers joined with those we had already saved. When his chores permitted Auqui was at my side and I pushed aside my own weariness for his sake. Again we struggled in comprehension – my mastery of Huallapan is broken at best and he comprehends Anglish not at all – but through demonstration I expressed myself well enough. Rainald joined us later, once more wishing to experiment with his ridiculous fancy about merging Thistledown Floats on the Whirlwind with his spear. As before I lamented over his insistence on brute strength – my Northern friend understands precision not at all I think – but he is graceful for such a large man. I sought to encourage other forms – The River Undercuts the Bank is a better choice with such a long weapon and Arc of the Moon is closer to what I think he wishes – but he was insistent on the sort of spin-twist that only Thistledown Floats on the Whirlwind is capable of. Cat on Hot Sand might

Auditore appears to go into further detail regarding his exercises with the warrior Rainald but the before-mentioned water damage has ruined much of it. Several additional sword forms are referenced, many of which appear to have no modern analogue in any of the traditional sword techniques. When the narrative resumes, it picks up mid-sentence.

retired to the meeting hut. Twelve of us there were in this council of war: Malcolm, Lord Wallace, and myself; Brother Mendel and Rainald; the mage and clown, Magnifico was there; Radskyrta, Dane and Talon as well; Viracocha and his father, Pachacuti; and one other Huallapan whose name I know not. Auqui was present as well though he thought we were oblivious to him as he was atop one of the new-set rafters that supported the log roof. We spoke long into the night though in truth my participation was limited and I offered little for I have ne’er had a head for strategy or tactics. In the end our course was set and it was Dane the Archer who showed the most mettle in planning: Pachacutal would weave a portal back to Yrth using at its centerpiece a waterfall and this hole would flood the hive on Yrth with rapids. We would ride this tide upon a raft and then scatter in the chaos. As the hive was located in the Great Desert we would then ride to Caithness to rally swords to put the Vasar to the torch. No small feat that but it was a bold plan. I only fear

The rest of of the journal entry has been lost to time.

I write this by firelight. The night is calm and quiet which matches my thoughts. There is much to put down, many thoughts that I must deal with lest they be forgotten or lost.

Today is … I have no idea what the date is. It has been nigh thirty days since we crossed over into this land, which means exactly nothing as I overheard Magnifico and Mendel musing about whether time flows the same way here. Far more importantly than the date is the fact that today, we have won a great victory against the Vasar, one that can not be denied. We have rescued Viracocha’s father from their clutches.

But I get ahead of myself. Start at the beginning, Father always said, and continue to the end.

Brother Mendel used his art to burn the fields of the crop these creature sustain upon, and in the confusion, we removed to the Hive, whereupon we discovered a great host emerging from, including Viracocha’s father. He was, as expected, Harnessed by a Controller, and well defended by the weaving bugs and the warriors, so we remained in concealed and discussed our options. They were distressingly few – charging forward was not an option as we would be overrun and crushed simply by the force of bodies, but knowing that hewas there, so close, and that only he could get us home … it was difficult.

By fortune smiled upon us, thank God. He cast a powerful spell that seemed to stop all around him – I recall seeing a nearby hummingbird; when Viracocha’s father was done, the bird’s wings were slowed to a point that the thing should have fallen to the ground! Among his host, only he was moving normally and he went to shake one one of allies awake. I recall several of my companions’ voices in that moment, but I had already thrown myself forward, intent on reaching him. I recall the whisper of noise that were arrows – Dane and Talon – and Viracocha’s father fell, a shaft having pierced the Controller’s tiny head without harming the Huallapan. I know not which of them loosed upon what, but the nearby weaver the old Huallapan had awoken staggered as well.

Among my companions, I am the swiftest – I am burdened by neither armor as Rainald nor of a bent back as Magnifico – but even I could not cover the distance quickly enough to prevent the creature from waking others. It took a moment for those awakened to act, so it became a deadly race to see if we could slay those awakened quickly enough to prevent being overwhelmed.

Never before have I felt so attuned to my craft. My blade was an extension of my arm and where I sprang, Vasar fell. I am no fool – I know that by engaging them as I did, singly and without warning, was oft the reason I felled them as quickly as I did, but nonetheless, the feel of the sword, the flawless way the forms felt … this was a good day.

We removed from the field, leaving behind a halfscore of dead or dying Vasar amongst those yet frozen in place, and carried the unconscious Huallapan back to the group we had earlier liberated.

The following journal entry is of a more familiar sort – an actual review of what Auditore had previously done that day, combined with a stream of consciousness discussion over his bladework.

The ambush was sublime. We struck from concealment – Brother Mendel’s skill with magery is a wonder to behold; he concealed those in heavier armor under a carefully crafted illusion, while the archers and I pounced from the opposite side – and the battle went ill for the monsters. My own contribution was limited, though the extra focus I have placed in my blade of late bore much fruit. Floating in the Void where all concerns – emotions, thoughts, even concerns of life and death – allows me to perceive the present moment in perfect clarity. My technique was imperfect, however, and I must continue my work. Still, it was adequate enough to evade injury. My focus my remain on grip – the steel must become an extension of my arm so I do not lose my hold on the weapon as I did to my great disgust. It is The Grapevine Twines – that form continues to elude me in an actual duel no matter that I know it flawlessly. The final twist of the blade that is intended to disarm the opponent requires a sharp rotation of the wrist and a light grip on your own blade – too firm and the form has not the necessary fluidity to succeed; too light and you risk being disarmed yourself – and I continue to struggle with the correct balance. Tonight – no, tomorrow, when I have time to study once more, I will re-examine my grip.

I thank the Merciful Lord that Auqui was not present to see how badly I performed The Grapevine Twines. No student should ever witness their instructor looking a fool.

I have little memory of the conversation afterward as Brother Mendel and Magnifico interrogated the former slaves principally because I was reviewing the battle in my mind’s eye to isolate my failure. There was some magery involved as they sought the location of Viracocha’s father – we learned he was Harnessed and instructed the beasts in spellweaving – but I was little involved and glad for that task that Malcolm, Lord Wallace, gave me and Dane. The rescued Huallapa were destined for nearby fields and the archer and I were to investigate.

Never have I smelled a crop so sweet. My crude representations do this thing thing no justice. (Editor’s Note: The sketch of the plant has been lost due to water damage.) We stole away in silence, burdened with these things, and returned to where our group was hidden. There it was decided to set fire to the fields to draw out the monsters from the hive whereupon we would use this chaos to enter.

We go now. Lord save and preserve us.

An entire section of Auditore’s journal has been lost – experts believe it to be up to four weeks of entries destroyed – and when he resumes, Auditore instead focuses on sword lessons as opposed to the day-to-day activities, which modern historians argue show his mindset regarding Auditore’s first student, identified elsewhere by the name Auqui. Curiously, Auditore utilizes a different type of speaking, perhaps an indication that he is plagarizing older sources or is attempting to sound more professional.

First of all we are to know that the Rapier is divided into two parts, namely into the Prime and the Secunde.

The Prime is measured from the Hilt to the midst of the Rapier, and being the strongest part, is consequently to be made only use of in putting by thrusts or blows.

The Secunde is taken from the midst of the Rapier to the point, and being the weakest of the Rapier is therefore only to be used in offending or making of thrusts.

As for the posture or the carriage of the body and for making of  thrusts at thine adversary, observe these rules following.

Thy Rapier thou must hold with a bended arm, so that the point of thy Rapier be lineally answerable to thine elbow.

Thy left hand thou art to hold over thy left eye to put by a sudden thrust withal which by chance at either of thine eyes might be directed.

Thou art only to show thy right side, yet if thou dost consider with theyself, then wilt thou find it only advantageous to thee when thou standest upon thy defense, for it will be something hard for thine adversary to hit thee I must needs confess, but if thou meanest to offend thine adversary it is a small advantage or none at all, for first of all, thy thrust thou canst not make with such a force when thou standest altogether with a half body, as when thou showest something of they breast, and then besides, when thou makest a thrust at thine adversary stepping forwards with thy right leg towards him thou comest to stand with a half body, and then if he did aim at that part of thy breast which thou didst show he will miss it, if thou dost but thrust at the selfsame instant his thrust approacheth, therefore every discreet Teacher and judicious Master ought to leave that free to his Scholars, being that it is a thing of no great moment.

Thy left leg must be something bended, and thy right leg too, but not altogether so much as thy left leg, upon which all the weight of thy body must lie.

Thy feet they must be placed not very far from one another, that thou mayst make a long thrust upon any occasion, and they must be placed like a great Roman L upwards, or an turned backward, just as in dancing, that thou mayst have the greater strength in thy left thigh to recall thy body suddenly when thou hast performed they thrust.

When thou wilt make a thrust, then reach out thy right arm, and step forward with thy right foot and let them both go together at one and the selfsame time and when thou steppest forward with thy right foot, but do not stir thy left foot; the weight of thy body must wholly lie upon thy right thigh, as soon as thou hast performed thy thrust, instantly recall thy body again, so that the weight of thy body come to rest upon they left thigh again (as it did before thou made thy thrust) not recalling thy right leg, with which thou didst formerly step forwards, but, in the meanwhile thou bindest him after thy thrust remove by little and little thy left leg towards thy right leg, for thus doing thou canst thrust home at thine adversary again as soon as thou hast occasion.

Thy thrust thou must make close to thine adversary’s Rapier, as if thou wouldest strike fire out of his weapon, which if thou dost not do, you will both be hurt if neither of you have skill; if one of you have but skill, and knoweth to observe this then he only will be endangered that doth not thrust close to his adversary’s Rapier.

Yet this is not all, but thou must likewise thust close to the Secunde or weakest part of the Rapier, with they Prime or strongest part of thy Rapier, for if thou canst do that, he cannot put thee by.

When thou dost thrust at thine adversary without, over his right arm, thou must do it with aSecunde. When thou makest a thrust at thine adversary within, thou art to do it with a Quarte.

Even when thou hast made a thrust at thine adversary, stringere him on the same side thou didst thrust, in the recalling of thy body, not removing thy point from his; for else he may wound thee too upon thy coming off.

As with so many of Auditore’s entries, this one is heavily damaged and difficult to read. His focus on one of the native children as a potential student lends credence to the oft-stated theory that Auditore would later become the “Old Man in the Mountain” who headed the Order of Assassins that caused so much trouble in the 2020s.

balance is impeccable though that does not surprise as he is an expert boatman and from what little I know about sailors, balance is very important. The language barrier remains an issue – how do you tell someone that their elbow is crooked when you have no words in common? – and the way his father watches me, I doubt not that the older man disapproves. More the fool he for this is a dangerous time and a boy knowing how to slay would be a great boon.

I am also ignorant of the boy’s dedication so I hesitate to give him more than rudiments. He mastered Cat Crosses the Courtyard quickly enough though I fear that poster is oft mistaken as arrogant by those untrained. I was tempted to push him – could he comprehend the nuances of Parting the Silk or Black Pebbles on Snow? Should I bother showing him Cutting the Clouds?

Tomorrow I mean to seek out Malcolm and learn how long he means to stay here. It is only logical to remain for a time, to perhaps learn enough of the tongue to be able to communicate with others, before we seek our way back to Yrth. I know not this young lordling of Wallace well enough to guess at his thoughts – a wise man would stay in place until his footing is sure but the men of Caithness are sadly oft not spoken of in the same breath as wise.

The entry appears to go on for some time further but most of the remaining text is obscured beyond comprehension. There are a number of words that have survived – blade is repeated at least ten times and blood twice but without any context, historians hesitate to speculate.

This entry is, like many of Auditore’s entries, only partially complete, but it unique due to a surprisingly skilled representation of a beast. There is a reference to a previous journal entry, presumably written a day earlier, following the incident with the two Controllers, but that entry has been rendered illegible from both age and damage. Equally distressing is the loss of several other images of Otherworldly beasts

how to record the day? Even before we came to this Otherworld, I had lost track of the day though that is no surprise. Mother often accused me of not paying adequate attention to the passing of the calendar and I fear I have become no better as I aged.

But I digress and my mind wanders.

The village set out early, leaving behind only what could not be carried or stored in the carts or the boat. The people, these Huallpa, are resilient, though we travel far more slowly than I would like. In their own way, they are beautiful and my eye is oft drawn to the ridges upon their noses. Though they are crude and cannot capture the true likeness of the Huallpa, I follow in Talon’s example and put charcoal to page to capture their likenesses and that of their local beasts of burden.

Below this are several faded images, all but the following lost to time. Presumably, Auditore sketched several of the Huallpa, but this is the only such image that appears to have survived.

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Auditore’s next entry picks up sometime later.

Our path takes us higher, which slows the Huallpa even more. The old tire quickly and even their young are unaccustomed to extended marches.

We offered to scout ahead to find alternate routes through the ridges, leaving Lord Wallace, Radskyrta and Talon to watch over the Huallpa as they rested.

‘Ere long, we stumbled upon a nest of creatures unlike any I have ever seen. My father’s blade sang true and my refocus on the old lessons bore fruit. Nigh singlehanded, I felled one of the beasts whilst Rainald and Dane combined to slay the second. Afterward, while my companions and the Huallpa butchered the beasts, I once more put ink to page.

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The beasts were a strange form of bird-lizard that towered over us as a war-destrier stands over a sheep-dog. Its skin was tough, but unarmored. The paws have wide, flat digits that provide it with sure grip on difficult surfaces. Viracocha named these beasts in his native tongue but I have no ear for languages and cannot reproduce the sound of his words in Anglish or Latin.

The eggs left behind by these creatures we destroyed as Viracocha said these beasts were greatly feared.

A celebration of sorts is planned and I mean to enjoy myself. Tomorrow I shall offer to instruct the Huallpa in swordplay – few of them are mighty enough to fight as Rainald does and my teachings are better suited to them, I think.

Lord Wallace’s men on the road again, by the light of a double moon,
Had a brush with death.  If I have the breath I’ll sing you a battle tune.

While marching along they could do no wrong in a land that was far from home,
Then a dragon fierce with a cry that pierced put a stop to that cheerful roam.

The Hammer o’ the North was first to come forth with a hideous rain o’ blows,
While Soldier Dane, a mighty swain, a feather’d arrow chose

The holy monk from the battle shrunk, he being a man of peace.
We crept away with our faces gray from the rage o’ that fearsome beast.

We were just about free, but from over the scree came the groom to the monster bride
With a roar like a bear that’d curl your hair–and us with no place to hide!

Rainald was quick to wield his pick like to pry the mother apart
And Dang’rous Dane he found a vein as he shot toward its heart.

When Gabe in white slipped out o’ sight to face the mate alone
‘Twas all I could do to count some coup by throwin’ a handy stone.

That got it mad, but Gabe was bad, more so than the hell-sent fiend,
And a cut to its chest left the thing hard-pressed, and t’ward the ground it leaned.

The she-worm curs’d had a pow’rful thirst for a shot o’ Northern juice
She swallowed him up and would-a supped ’til Rainald, he cut loose.

The hammer red upside her head made her release that bite,
Beside ol’ Dane the Dragon’s Bane, Rainald wrapped up the fight.

They tore on through, and we all knew they’d saved the day once more.
With Gabe on our side, the creatures died; we gave ’em all what-for.

I learned today to run and pray when a beastie gives you shakes,
But the might of men in a monster’s den still gets you dragon steaks!

One of the few wholely intact journal entries from Auditore’s lost writings, this section has been poured over by experts intent on peeling away the truth regarding the war with the V’Saa.

Fog shrouded morning. It could almost deceive one into thinking this place was somewhere on Yrth – an oasis butted up against the Great Desert, perhaps, or an inlet between al-Haz and the Djinn Lands. But to do so would be the greatest form of deception, that of lying to the self.

The sun burned the fog away and we proceeded down the river toward the boat we saw the day before. As we drew closer, a boy was revealed to us. If we needed any further proof this was Yrth, the … ridges on the lad’s nose was more than enough. He fled from us, as if we demons given form. His trail carried us to a cliffside village – the structures were no different from what would be found in Caithness – and a greeting party of peasants armed with farming tools rushed to greet us. Lord Wallace elected to send forward Magnifico to act as our voice …

Magnifico. What to say of him? A clown he may be, but he is no fool. Though I know nothing of his past, he has displayed surprising aptitude in knowing what to say and when. It is an impressive skill, being able to change a potential enemy into a friend with only words. My brother possessed this talent, though he and Magnifico could not be more different, in both appearance and temperment.

The attempted diplomacy seemed to go well – Mendel joined during it at Magnifico’s request – until a newcomer arrived. Shirtless, he was unmistakably shackled, with the same kind of creature that had controlled the baron of Ferrier. The peasants knelt at once but the host looked at our diplomats and reacted with visible fear.

Again, my recollection of the events that followed are sketchy. I recall already being in motion when the shackled man appeared – the old training, to stay low, to stay hidden, to stay unobtrusive, kept me from sight – but by the time I reached the man, he was already facedown, a trio of arrows from Dane and Talon protruding from the creature’s carapace. With Mendel’s assistance, I pried the creature free from the man – he began convulsing and Magnifico announced that the creature was seeking to kill the Host. Again, the archers’ aim was true when I tossed the creature aside.

We were rushed into a building by the peasants and another newcomer joined us. This one began making the hand motions that I recognized from the Alphas – and a few moments later, he spoke Anglish. He introduced himself as Viracocha. The insectoid creatures we learned are called V’Saa and they had previously invaded this world where they subjugated the inhabitants, Huallpa. Viracocha expressed great fear that the second shackled – called a Controller – would alert the V’Saa “hive” (which is, according to Viracocha, controlled by a Queen) and they would send reinforcements. After discussion, it was decided that we would neutralize her. My companions urged a direct assault despite my desire to act in a more circumspect manner – Viracocha weaved a portal through which we leapt through, startling the shackled woman within. I was again less than effective – it fell to Rainald and the archers to slay the Controller without harming the Host. Thrice in as many skirmishes, I have been of no aid to my companions and in fact have become a hindrance.

I have lost focus in my wanderings, allowed myself to forget the most basic teachings that my father instilled upon me. My sword must once more become an extension of my self, of my will, of my goals. All men are made of water, my father once told me. If you pierce them, the water leaks out and they die. I must once more become the water dancer I was long ago. My balance must be restored, both inward and outward, and I must feed my emotions into the flames of concentration. Anger, fear, they must be set aside so I may focus on what must be done.

The wind beckons, and I must bend before it.

Viracocha intends to secret his people away from this place and we have agreed to escort them. There is much to learn, much to do, much to be.