Madigan/Journal

06/12/2001, Squire Ziss Series 1

Not surprisingly I found my journal in the bottom of my travel pack rather dusty. My visions of the Bonding have ceased where I left them at my last entry. Who knows if they were simply the strange dreams of a man approaching the end of his career or maybe (if they had meaning) maybe I was deemed not worthy to carry the trust of our Founders and such trust has moved to another, younger carrier of the Paladin Standard?

I have taken a new Squire. This will be the Fourteenth squire I have taken, Seven of which completed their training. He is the first S'kra Mur that has come into my service. He is young, much too young to squire but maybe through his youth I again find my youth? The first task (as always) for my Squire is to find the Code, return to me with the location and recite the Code. Every learning sessions after, the Squire will begin the session by reciting the Code. Thus the young Squire left his Oathtaking on his first task.

Firegard and Kattena graciously agreed to be the Squire's Oathbearer and witnessed the ceremony. I am always honored and humbled that my guildbrothers and guildsisters take their role of Oathbearer very seriously. Firegard is a S'kra Mur, so I hope Firegard can teach the Squire something of his history. Kattena will be good in that she can teach the Squire the potential inaccuracy of the Code and that it is currently called into question.

I found myself quite amused when I took the Squire to show him the Moat. I believe he said words to the effect of "Madigan, why would you bring me to this nasty place?". I chuckled and then explained that this is where he is punished if he fails in his lessons or tasks. As I get older, I find this same conversation with each Squire funnier each time. There is something to be said about growing old and enjoying the smaller things in life.

Therengia...well, Therengia still seethes with its undercurrent of various drama in some form or fashion. Maybe my training exile on M'riss and Mer'Kresh is not so bad after all? I write that as tongue-in-cheek as one can infer such on parchment in this journal. Valkri seems to be doing an admirable job as Advisor, and seems to have the right demeanor for the position. I do not envy her duties, but I envy the patience that she displays daily.

Recently I arrived in Langenfirth to see the Traitor Ternith standing there displaying the colors of the Theren Guard. Ternith, as you may recall, has both a good and bad history with Theren. He and I were very close at one time as we fought Sorrow's soldiers for many years together. Yet, Ternith turned traitor and was banned from Theren for various actions. The most horrible of which was his attack on Therengians at the peace discussions hosted by the Sisters of Ain Gazal attended by Baron Gyfford and the Ferdahl.

I failed in my duty almost immediately, as I sought out first the Speaker of the Theren Guard to discuss the matter instead of demanding he leave and forcing his removal if he refused. He seemed not concerned to my surprise. I then informed him that I would have to send petition to the Baron on the matter and enforce the law. Ultimately, I made demand on Ternith that he leave Therengia. A member of the Guard asked that I not force Ternith to leave and I agreed under the condition that a petition be made to the Baron asking for his ban to be lifted and that an officer of the Guard give an Oath warranting Ternith's good conduct. I have yet to confirm a petition was filed and I have yet to receive an oath. However, I have little concern in both these regards as the Guard is an honorable, and old order of Theren.

I am however curious how the Baron will receive Ternith's petition and the fact he is currently a member of the Guard and by their leave, allowed to remain in Theren. Petitions have been presented by various citizens to be removed from the List, and always the condition is that they not remain in Theren and all such petitions (to my knowledge) have been summarily dismissed. Historically, there have been two citizens in similar situations as Ternith that have petitioned for reinstatement (Galren and Mazrian) and (if I recall correctly) both were denied. Both Mazrian and Galren served honorably during a time, and then were banned for reasons including attacking and killing Therengian citizens.

I do not envy the heavy burden of judgment on this issue. I believe that everyone should be empowered with the right of redemption. However, I believe more strongly in the law and justice, in that every man and woman be judged equally. At this moment in time, Ternith is treated differently than the other citizens I am required to remove from Therengia by death or other means. Why should I not kill Ternith and drag him through a moongate out of the province? Have I sullied my honor in allowing the Guard to influence my decision not to strictly enforce the rule, word and law of Baron Gyfford?

Too much to ponder for me this day.

Madigan

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02/27/2001, Syal Series 3

The Song of Peri'el

This dream began unlike the others, as I seemed an outsider that approached a group of people in mid conversation...

"No, Therengia was nothing like it exists now. Falstad was just 19 when I first met him and in a remote camp with his dwarven allies. They were a pitiful sight. Once mighty Therengia living in the remote forts of the hills." Syal lectured as he sat on the now familiar stone benches by the gate to the paladin graveyard.

Csilla stood at his side, her armor gleaming with its radiant polish. Her profile was elven to the core, the sharp angles of her face distinct with the profile of her face as she faced the man in plate that sat across from Syal.

Syal was in his typical long robe. Glints of armor exposed with the various folds of his robe and a plain leather sheath jutted out behind the bench.

The knight...was me. I looked...older than I anticipated. Of course, I suppose we all think we are younger than we really are. My always silver hair dulled with age, the smile wrinkles around my eyes were much more distinct. The only redeeming factor was my tan from long days on the islands hunting.

Syal gives a low laugh as he leans back restating "Yes, Falstad. He was very lost. I doubt he believed me when I told him that we were called to serve the Immortals and that we must fight the Dragon Priests. I am sure he thought I was mad, and we were all crazy. But, he was in no position to turn down our help that was offered."

"You swore service to Therengia?" Madigan asked as he adjusted his armor.

"No, nor were we asked to swear service. We only offered to fight the Dragon Priests, which I believe was enough." Syal responded.

Csilla paced around the two men to another bench "Madigan, Syal and I were distracted most times by the Immortals as they all attempted to talk and direct us with visions. Peri'el was the most anxious. Her visions would stun me for some time and made my interactions with others...well confusing and uncomfortable. She was very scared that her song would fail, or that Dzree would halt her song."

Csilla gazed up continuing her discussion "Peri'el called me, she is my patron." Madigan looked up surprised, "Peri'el? I thought we served all the Immortals?"

"We do. That is the result of the Bonding." Syal snapped back into the conversation.

"But...you both said you were called individually and you each have a patron. Do each of you serve all the Immortals?" My visage looked shaken as "I" hovered around the outside of the group in my dream form.

"Madigan, the Immortals needed warriors to fight against the release of the World Dragon. How do you suppose they went about getting those warriors?" Syal twisted his mouth a bit as if frustrated.

"The clerics I would think...or they could simply reach out to a person like they did Csilla here." Maidgan gestured at Csilla.

"And, have a bunch of half-mad warriors running around because they communicated directly with an Immortal?" Syal gazed to Csilla. "No Madigan, that contact almost killed Csilla and she did not function well at all until I came upon her. No, the Immortals needed a conduit through which to make their callings." Syal grinned in a deadpan manner. "I was the lucky fellow selected, or so it seems."

"But...cleri.." Madigan began but was cut off by Csilla. "Clerics are the worshipers of the divine, but they do it in the aggregate and for the purpose of worship. We are called to a task, a certain chore or a certain militant purpose." Csilla gazed to the gate marking the dark shapes pushing against the threshhold.

Frowning she drew her sword and started toward the gate "Syal, we must return to the fight...they are growing stronger." Syal snapped his eyes to the gate then back to Madigan "You must learn quickly, as we can not hold this place of paladin souls forever."

Madigan began to rise, but then as if noticing me for the first time said "What are you doing here?"

I snapped awake and gazed into the darkness of the night as I slept under the stars.

Madigan

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02/23/2011, Syal Series 2

Defending the Souls

The Paladin Graveyard (which I have dubbed this place) looked exactly the same as my last visit. The sun setting on the horizon cast an amber sheen on the low hanging fog that hovered waist high in the enclosed field. The top of each tombstone marker jutted a few inches above the smog which kissed the armored greaves I wore around me legs.

Did I really see Syal when I last visited here in my dream? Who was the stunning woman that was with him and could it be Csilla? Am I going mad or is the stress of an upcoming wedding making me have these dreams.

Instead of a further examination of the markers, I decided to make a circuit around the field. The barrier of the field was a low wall constructed of what appeared to be lose rocks from the surrounding countryside, affixed together with good mortar. The wall was well constructed and only defaced with the natural effects of nature. I trained my gaze over the wall, and was surprised. The low hanging fog filtered across the landscape as far as the eye could see in the dimming light. On one end of the graveyard I saw flashes of light burst in and out of the fog, illuminating it periodically as if there was a small thundercloud on a dark night.

I moved swiftly to the area and that is where I found Syal. He was standing just outside a gated entrance to the graveyard and was fighting dark shapes that tempted to swarm about him. He glanced back at me with his crazed look again. His gaze suggested "don't just stand there you idiot" so I drew my sword and moved forward. Now, this was a part of the dream I could understand. Fight, follow orders, engage the enemy.

I was startled when I stopped dead in my tracks at the gate entrance. Strive as I might, I could not push through the invisible barrier. Syal glanced back at me and a deep sorrow pervaded his facial expression.

I banged my fists against invisible barrier and wilted under the accusing glare...until a smart slap on my backside drew my attention behind me. The lady knight had slapped me on the butt with her sword as she passed by. I twirled until I turned fully around to track her as she passed me. She glanced over her shoulder and said coyly "You can not go here Madigan so don't hurt your fists on Syal's barrier."

So, I stood there like a worthless frog on a stump. Their fight was amazing. Syal's brute strength combined with the lady knight's graceful protection of his flank and back. Shadowy figures approached them from behind, yet spells diverted or deflected their attacks back on the attackers. They both used some familiar spells to me, spells that smited the hordes that surrounded them to give them space to continue the fight. Other spells, I did not know. Spells that prevented undisclosed attacks, diverted attacks and something that seemed to absorb the energy of spells cast against them.

Finally, the lady knight touched Syal's shoulder and said "Enough today maite. They will always be here. Let us find a true solution and maybe our visitor is the answer." With that, Syal waved his hand and a calm came over his small area and they moved back within the gate. As they walked towards me, I saw the shapes form against the gate...clawing, pushing, proding.

"What in the blazes are those things and why could I not get to your side Sir?"

Syal glared at me with the old wild fire in his eyes. "You can not leave here because you do not yet understand. None of you understand and therefore none of you can help."

The lady knight placed a hand oh Syal's forearm and the calm returned to him. She gestured for us to a small area with large stones near the gate, barely visible in the continuing fog.

"Madigan, you must discover the path before any guidance can be provided and before you and your brothers and sisters can help." she intoned in a very kind voice, but filled with a wry smile.

"Who do you serve?" Syal asked abruptly.

"I serve Therengia." I responded automatically.

Syal shook his head and a sense of sadness crossed his face. "Madigan, you and your brothers and sisters are diverted from our purpose. You, maybe by no fault of your own, have strayed from the path envisioned by the Immortals."

"How did you enter the Immortals service?", he asked with authority.

"I joined the Paladin guild in Rivercrossing," I said plainly. He grunted and responded "Joined, yes I suppose. Were you not called to service?" he ended with a retort.

Unable to answer the question immediately, a sudden thought came to me, and I looked at the lady knight "Are you Csilla?" She smiled a beautiful smile, "Why yes, who else would I be Madigan?"

"Aren't you dead...why are you both here..why am I here?" I responded with obvious confusion.

She stared frankly at me "Syal defends the souls of paladins who are not properly bonded. He sacrifices his ability to be by his patrons side to stand with his brothers and sisters that attempt to follow his path and through him the will of the Immortals." She gazed about the graveyard, "This is our fortress against evil that would take those souls for foul things." Pain crossed her face, "We desire to go to our patrons and yet, we are the only conduit for the bond at this point...so we remain with our vigil over our brothers and sisters to keep safe their souls."

"M'lady, I thought you were....well...burdened during your life." I said with as much courtesy as I could inject in the question.

She laughed a ringing note that echoed in the graveyard "Here our discussions with the Immortals are clear and not through visions. In my mortal life...well I did not see or understand the visions. It was confusing."

With that they stood and wavered..."But, what do I need to do?" I called after them. Syal glared over his shoulder and responded "Determine who you serve." Csilla smiled at me and said "And, marry that pretty elf...we do love humans you know?"

With that, I found myself back in the common soldiers barracks. The other soldiers staring at me as I was sitting on my bed in the dead of night.

Madigan

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02/22/2011, Syal Series 1

A Paladin Graveyard

Soldier's dreams are encumbered with the weight of the actions they take on behalf of their oaths. Dreams...they make us pace at night, they fill us with burdens of our past actions.

Recently, my dreams are filled with...I do not know what, nor do I think I can adequately explain them with enough detail for you to understand. They disturb me. They shake the core of my foundations in my guild, my beliefs and my faith in many things.

I will try to accurately recount these dreams so that maybe you, the reader can make use or sense of them. Selfishly, I hope that writing them down will remove them from my memory or help me make sense of them.

To the dream:

I was walking at dusk, noting the last wink of the sun as it slid down the horizon. Shadows lengthened along small field I found myself within. The field was surrounded by a low, stone wall covered with small patches of bright green moss. A waist-high haze, or fog covered the field with dark, gray tendrils dipped to touch the unkempt grass at various spots.

I was in my field armor, worn smooth with many notches and scrapes from many years of use. The leather straps made small protests as the moisture of the fog seeped into the fittings. Removing my helm, I noticed...small islands protruding from the low hanging fog.

These small protrusions seemed to be the tops of wooden stakes as I walked among them. Touching the top of each as I progressed through the small field, they were irregularly spaced...almost in a haphazard fashion. Kneeling, I removed my helm to examine one. Words were scratched into the dark, wet wood. Running my fingers along the first monument...the words "Violet" were carved shallowly into the wood..almost as if a child had carved her name in the side of a tree. Blinking, I moved quickly to the next stake..."Portense", the next "Redtail"...and so forth. I can not recount fully all the names, but the memory of the tips of all the stakes protruding from the smog made a lump form in my belly. The same lump I always get when I return to a battlefield and start looking for friends that have been slain. Hoping to find them if they were dead...but hoping also not to find them, for obvious reasons.

I did not notice the man that was near me until he screamed at me, such was my attention on the markers.

"They don't understand!" the voice rang through the field and startled me to draw my sword.

Dropping my helm, I rounded on the cloaked figure with my sword drawn. "Announce yourself sir!", I responded with the trained challenge of a guard on duty. At least I remembered some form of training, even in a dream.

The eyes were the first thing that held my attention. They flared with a fire. Of madness, of a god...I do not know...they transfixed me. I could not move, lower my sword or even form conscious thought. I was frozen.

Sweeping his arm gesturing to the markers, he stared into my soul. "They do not understand how to finish their journey. And, lost man, you do not know how to even begin your journey." Then he advanced on me. For the first I noticed the plate armor under the cloak and his hand moving to a sword hilt. His eyes still held my frozen body in check seemed to stare through me. He stopped not far from me at the sound of a voice from behind me.

"Syal, he knows no better. Calm yourself maite." A clear melodic voice rang from behind my right ear. A knight glided past my right arm. Ohh, a magnificent knight in armor that hurt your eyes to behold, shined to a mirror finish...a radiant air hovered over this dominating presence. I could see the side of her uncovered face as she came to the side of the cloaked man. She was clearly elven, and remarkable...so very familiar to my Valynn it took my heart.

Placing her hand on the cloaked man's shoulder, she said lightly as she glanced at me, "This is our first one that has arrived alive Syal, do not scare him away. They do not understand maite, and we can not return to teach them. Slowly maite...slowly." As soon as the hand touched his shoulder, an immediate change came over the cloaked man. His eyes focused, the lines in his face softened and (most importantly for me) he stopped advancing.

Syal. Syal? Syal! Resorting to my typical soldier training which states 'If you don't know what to do, keep your mouth shut and wait on orders.' So, I stared at the man called Syal. I am not sure I could have said anything had I even had something I thought to say. Bloody Syal?

Facing the female knight, Syal said in a voice very much unlike his former voice, "Yes, you are right maite." Turning to me he simply said "Madigan, until you and your brothers and sisters find the right path, you will all through this place and go no farther. The bonding is for naught unless you apply the gift for which it was given."

"What gift...what is this place..", I started to reply. Then, as suddenly as I entered the dream I was awake.

Every night since, I have dreamed of things I thought long lost, impossible or even heresy. I do not know what these dreams mean, or even if they have meaning.

On an unrelated note, I am planning a wedding. For whom...well we shall need to find out in later journal entries.

Madigan

OOC NOTE: Basically, I am writing my version of the history of the guild and the meaning of the "bonding". Since I am putting it in the light of various dreams, the content can be discounted or used at the leisure of individuals or the GM's. I have (I hope) an interesting theory on the "bonding" and some gaps in the scarce history of the guild. To the extent anyone notices plain mistakes or disconnects with actual recorded history, please take the time to drop me an email so I can correct as best as I can.

Sorry for the length of the post, just let me know if this project starts getting stupid or mundane.

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02/15/2011

For Whom Does the Bell Toll?

Soldier's don't talk of death often or at all if we can help it. Talking of death seems to awaken Urrem'tier without justification or warrant...I don't think that Immortal likes to be bothered without just cause. So, we soldiers pray to our chosen and gather favors like a child would collect flowers in the spring.

Why do we do this? From a normal person's practical standpoint, it is pragmatic and right. From a soldier's practical viewpoint, it is insurance against Commanders who would toss you carelessly into harms way. Luckily, my current Commander has a great deal of common sense and perspective. That is not always the case, and it is not always the case for those above field commanders.

For whom does the bell toll when it is time to fight? It is, of course, seldom the person that orders the violence. It is most often the common soldier and the people that are surrounding the violence, yet not involved.

Thus, I found myself at a common place. A potential confrontation during a time that was inappropriate for battle standing with a seasoned Commander, a green Advisor, many non-Therengians, on foreign soil and a whole lot of tension.

As another soldier said to me that night "Well, this is like a dog trying to hump a cat, being directed by a parrot with a crowd of spectators waiting to judge them all." (I will apologize should any Lady read this journal, but sometimes soldiers speak fairly frankly).

So, there I was with a group of Therengians, Ilithians, Inquisitors and other citizens with necromancers shining mirrors upon us, a known Necromancer Supporter Asrion in our mist and an Advisor believing we were on Theren soil (implying of course that we should bloody start killing people) and we just finished battle with a the necromancer Lhars.

The dog, the cat, the parrot and the spectators...the roles are filled by the same people, just the names change.

But, good sense played out this evening, for which I am grateful. The opening of the Muspar'i cleric guild, before the new guild leader was not the place for a fight of this nature. As one old Therengian friend said, "There is a time and place for everything." The green Advisor did not press the issue, the seasoned Commander kept his head and old Court members stayed itchy sword hands with calm resolve. The bell did not toll for anyone this day, for it was not the proper time or place to ring the bell..so to speak.

I will also record in this Journal that I spoke with Asrion upon my return to Therengia. He is concerned that infamy will follow someone on the List without due process or petition, and maybe wrongfully so. I agree with his assessment in that absolute proof must be had before the so-called List is invoked. I will also note that I am glad Asrion will seek petition with the Baron for his removal. I know not of his past conduct, but I believe every man and woman should have the right to stand before their judge and state their case.

Finally, I was able to spend time with Valynn who continues to amaze me in so many ways. A truly remarkable woman, too good for me...but that is for a journal entry of its own.

Madigan

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02/12/2011

Lists

A soldier makes lists to remind ourselves of things that should be done and the order with which they should be accomplished. Government officials make lists to condemn people or things. I am amazed at the power of a pen. The figures and characters writ on a piece of paper of power that surpasses that of steel and muscle.

Thus, a list is born by ink and paper and enforced by steel and muscle. A while ago I represented the Watch in our weekly training session wherein Asrion, who is somewhat known to me, appeared. Alas, he is on a list of necromancer supporters. I questioned him and he denied the accusations of the list (I speak of the list as it is a person, for this list seems to have a life). Asrion denied the accusation, and since I did not know how he came to be on the list, allowed him to remain.

Mordibar and Lyathe received a visit from the spy Coenrad who informed them that he vouched for Asrion being a necromancer supporter and we were ordered to have him removed.

Last evening, Asrion appeared and was asked to leave and then engaged. There were three of us and one of him, and he was not prepared. The outcome was predictable under those circumstances. I had an opportunity to speak with Asrion and informed him that he would need to petition the Baron and that if wanted we could meet again if he felt his honor needed to be satisfied, which would be proper in my mind.

So, the List...a thing that is writ by aristocrats and enforced by soldiers. Apparently, a List is a dangerous thing and the wielders of a pen should understand that it is flesh and blood, not pen and ink that enforce the List.

Madigan

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02/04/2011

Lost.

I have decided to renew my efforts with my journal. I would say my lack of entries is a direct reflection on a bit of lost direction in my personal life. I find myself, for the first time, adrift on an island with few close friends and Therengians. It is curious how a place of cold, grey stone and armor can feel so comforting when one is deprived of their constant companionship.

As I have written in this journal, I once purchased a horse from a Horse Broker, Ishtvan. I petitioned His Grace to review the conduct of this Ishtvan because he (Ishtvan) failed to deliver the horse as promised. Amazingly enough, a horse of the exact same breed was discovered after an ambush and delivered to Therengia in search of an owner. I made my petition, and was granted ownership of this fine animal. I suspect that my other paladin infantry companions will make jest of my stiff posture on such a grand beast, but alas I shall give it a good go.

Yet, I find myself lost and unusually suspect of direction. Partially because of this unnaturally warm island I train upon now, but mostly for lack of Therengian companionship.

Commander Marsais has assumed command of the Watch. I can think of no better person for the role, and he brings much honor to the Watch and to Therengia. We have also brought on some outstanding recruits as of late, Dierik, Rambliin and Martyre come immediately to mind. Valkri has assumed the mantle of Court Advisor. I think she will do very well in this role, and I wish her the best of luck for a job that is very demanding.

The traitor Oane was finally put in chains, and I am curious when the Council will set forth his trial? The longer they delay, the more fire they throw on the fire of conspiracy that already blazes in the heart of many of my peers and guildmates. It is unbecoming to delay a fair trial to a paladin. I can say this no more directly or with more vigor.

I have had odd dreams of late, as if my guilds past is reaching to me. I must admit, this is the main reason I have started writing this journal again. I seem to recall my dreams of the guild but for a short time... then they are lost to me.

Yes journal, I have not asked Valynn to marry me as of yet. Most unbecoming of me, but in my mind it diminishes what we have. A bond that needs no real symbol or affirmation. It is...like honor. It stands on its own without need for acknowledgment or confirmation. Mordi would make me eat those words if I expressed them outloud.

"Deeds Above Words"

Madigan

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02/05/2010

These are the times that try our souls. The acid upon the armor of my guild's fundamental belief in our history, our Code and the tenants by which we operate. Oane. Who is Oane? A researcher? A traitor? Both?

The council has issued its orders to apprehend Oane, and how can I refuse such order or ignore it either passively or actively? Obviously I can not, so I endeavor to capture Oane and return the paladin to the custody of a guildleader. And, that finds me back in Shard which appears to be the place of Oane's likely appearance once he comes out of hiding.

Yes, I fear these allegations will try the soul of my guild. Already paladins have failed to uphold the order of the council and let Oane walk free. But, there are embers to their hesitation. Sir Darius received them shortly after their refusal, and (if accounts are true) let them leave in peace...and even hinted at more sinister happenings. Try our souls.

I do report some good news to this journal. My squires Xalahai and Xalfirie are prepared for graduation. I can not think of two better squires I have trained. Yet...did I train them under the correct Code?

Maybe this Oane and the Council try my soul?

Madigan

P.S. My apologies to you Thomas Paine fans out there. "Try our souls" is a pure rip off of some of his writings. Although, I thought appropriate for this Journal entry.

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