Olympus RPG Blog

It is with considerable trepidation that I put quill to ink in a meager attempt to record my thoughts and fears. By no stretch am I a great scholar nor a wordsmith – I am many things: a bladesman, a rogue, a thief, a murderer, a liar, a Lost Soul likely damned to burn for my sins of which there are many. Of the Lord’s Commandments, I have violated all but two – never have I sought a God other than the Almighty, nor have I made false idols in His Name. All the rest have I broken and none do I regret more than my sundering of the Fifth.

But my thoughts wander astray and leadeth me into temptation. Who am I? I am Gabriel, of the fallen House Auditore, late of Crane and of Megalos. And, like my father before me, and his father, I was an Assassin.

I fear not these words falling into false hands, for I compose this using the codes and cyphers taught to me by my father, who learned from his father, and so on, back to the beginning. If you have the skill to break these cyphers, then I congratulate you and pray that I am already dead.

But no matter. I fell from Grace long ago, and now seek my path as that of a common mercenary, selling my blade to those who can afford it and seeking adventure where I should seek forgiveness. I am at peace with the Lord’s plan – would he save me from the cruel fate that fell upon my House if he did not have a Plan? He placed my feet upon this Path and I shall stride forth, eager to serve as he directs and be his blade where he needs me. The Lord knows I am a sinner – perhaps it is a sinner and not an upright man that he requires.

Of late, I travel with three – a northerner named Rainald who is strong of arm and of heart; a Franciscan named Mendel who is unlike any priest I have had the misfortune of dealing with; and an archer known as Talon, who is hunted for a crime he did not commit. An assassin – I know not if this man possessed True Training or no – slew the duke of Tacitus, and Talon is now hunted for this crime. Though this murderer – I hesitate to call him an Assassin – was later slain, my curiosity, ever my bane, has kept me at Talon’s side – if the murderer was truly trained in the Art as I was, then those he called Master must invariably move against any they consider threats. I had believed that the conspiracy that robbed me of my House was slain by my actions but now I wonder if it was wider than I feared.

But again I digress. I blame these meanderings upon poor sleep. My dreams have been dark of late, ever since the Great Desert. My companions and I ventured deep into its heart with a scholar and met what I can only call demons. The scholar lies in a deep, unnatural slumber and I wonder if ere he shall wake.

Tonight we sleep here in Bordertown. It is an ugly place with no grace or beauty. Men come here with dreams of glory and venture forth to die with naught but those dreams. If e’er I must enter that desert again, it will be too soon. Rather would I spend interminable weeks listening to theologians debate trivial points of the Bible than face one of those sand demons again.

But I tire and my hand weakens for I am unaccustomed to such scribe work.

What a wild week it has been. We are back in Bordertown and I finally have some time to write. It has not been a good week. We started out into the desert six days ago, with our small party joined by Franklin, our guide, and Elijah a fat brute of a man from Wallace. Rainald and Elijah never seemed to get along well, like everything was a competition, but I guess that won’t be a problem anymore. Elijah is another victim of the desert and its creatures.

We travelled at night and the first two days we made a good pace with little to trouble us. Dixon and Elijah we’re using a little more than their daily share of rations, but it was manageable.  On the second night we caught glimpse of a camp ahead. Gabriel and I moved forward to investigate, but the camp was deserted, though we now know why. The reptile men in that camp had fallen victim to the same beasts that took Elijah. They are like nothing I have ever see before, and god willing, I hope I don’t encounter them again. And their smell, it’s beyond words. At least I know they can be killed.

Two of these creatures followed us for the next day, always watching at a distance. It reminded me of the way vultures would follow and wait for a wounded animal to succumb to the desert. When we set camp at the end of that days travel, these desert demons as Rainald called them, came closer than they have before. Instinct told me they were done waiting, but before they could react Elijah charged away from the camp at one of them. The stupid fool. It was over in seconds and his body was hauled away. Damn they are fast.

Dixon despite all his schooling, obviously thought Elijah’s rash action was the right thing to do, and he to fled the camp. Dixon, just like Elijah was attacked and dragged off. The creature had some distance to run before it would have any cover so arrow after arrow I loosed at this desert demon. I don’t know if it was luck or just my shear persistence, but the beast dropped from an arrow that struck it in an eye which grew from the its tail. I continued to loose arrows until it was still. Gabriel charged out to check on Dixon, while Rainald helped me take the beast’s head as a trophy. I don’t know what magic spawned them, but when it had died it’s body turned to stone and its eyes to gems. Using whatever magic Brother Mendel possesses, he was able to bring Dixon back to the living.

Dixon has remained unconscious the entire time back to Bordertown, and we have all been plagued by the same nightmare. I think it may be this beast head as it hums constantly and Brother Mendel has divined it to be of some magical nature. I’m going to try sell it.

I write this from a crude shelter on the outskirts of Wallace. I’m wet, cold and filled with a deep disrespect for Hunters of Elohar. It turns my stomach when I think that I once held these people in high regard, when in truth they are cowardly murders. Bernardus is dead, his throat cut while he was sleeping.

The celebrations in Wallace indeed lived up to everything I had been told. Even after the clouds darkened and the rain set in, the townsfolk’s spirits were still high. I’ll add that the rain had me a little nervous, there was something unusual about it. The way it formed, its intensity especially at this time of year. I don’t know, it just didn’t seem right.

Like everyone else, Rainald, Myself, and two new friends, Brother Mendel and Gabriel, continued the festivities indoors. Brother Mendel’s heart is in the right place, and seems a good man of God. Gabriel, is a bit of a mystery but seems to be a man of some skill and training.

As fortune would have it, an odd man by the name of Dixon Morello approached me looking for some people that would be willing to escort him into the Great Desert on an expedition to investigate something. I’m still at a loss as to what he was going to do, but he was offering to pay four gold a day, and seemed good for it. We’ll meet him in the morning, let’s see what comes of it.

Brother Mendel made mention that he might be able to offer some assistance in Bernardus’ recover, so as the night drew to a close we started the trek to the cottage. The rain was heavy and still has not eased. Things were not right at home, the old lady always sleeps with a candle on, and Bernardus would normally be awake at this time, but both houses were dark.

Gabriel and I went cautiously to investigate, and that’s when we found Bernardus had been killed. Something reminded me of old father Ustus back in Tacitus, preaching that God has a plan for us all. I wouldn’t say I liked Bernardus a great deal, as he had always been difficult, but he deserved better than this. Was that God’s plan for him?

All things have been quiet for a little while. Bernardus is still not well and his recovery is unusually slow. The others from Tacitus have left Wallace for lands elsewhere, and it’s probably for the best that there was no mention of where they would go. I, on the other hand will stay here, at least until Bernardus is well. Besides, Wallace is a nice place and I’ve managed to get some good steady work through the Armsman’s Guild.

Raids into the desert have been frequent, and I’ve managed to learn many desert survival tricks from some of the old hands. The Great Desert is an unforgiving place, and it will claim any man who ventures there unprepared. Despite this, it a bares a natural beauty I’ve not seen anywhere, and sadly my sketches will never capture the colours of this landscape.

Of the other’s in the employ of the Armsman’s Guild, one in particular stands out. Rainald, a Northman with a stature like that of a dwarf in the body of a man. Perhaps he has been lying to me and is just an overgrown dwarf. He’s a capable warrior and I do well to call him friend.

The Wallace harvest celebrations are in a few days, the townsfolk are excited and I’m told everyone will be in town for the festivities. It will be interesting.