Vaddon

Vaddon
Status	Active
Race	Kaldar
Gender	Male
Guild	Paladin
Instance	Prime
Relatives	Zalinyar

Early Life and Education

Vaddon was born in a quiet, secluded Kaldar community in the West, to a family that held a dangerous secret. They were keepers of the old ways, descendants of those who had embraced the teachings of the elven missionary Akrian Dein and his "Legacy of Lanival." For generations, they had guarded their faith in silence, preserving the forbidden texts and a unique understanding of the Thirteen Immortals—seeing each not as beings of light or dark, but as whole and complete entities. They passed down their beliefs in whispers, ever since the Gorbesh Emperor Miulek began his violent persecution and smashed Dein's monument to rubble.

Fearful that their faith and their son would be discovered, Vaddon's parents made the ultimate sacrifice. They traveled far from their home and left him, not yet a year old, in the care of a temple. It was not an act of abandonment, but one of protection—a desperate gambit to hide a flicker of their faith in the very heart of the institutions that sought to extinguish it. With him, they left a meager tithe and a small, smooth river stone etched with a symbol whose meaning was lost to all but them, a silent prayer for his safety.

Months passed, and then years. Vaddon grew up among priests, traveling clerics, and other children of the temple. While he was told he was an orphan, a deep and unshakeable feeling that something was missing followed him. He was a strong child, possessed of a resilience that seemed to run in his very bones. To quell his restless spirit, he took on physically demanding jobs, first in the temple gardens and later with the Undertaker Khurek, preparing his body for a hard life he could not yet name.

In the temple, Vaddon heard stories of the great battles of good versus evil and the might of holy paladins. He was captivated by their ideals of justice and honor. So while other children studied, Vaddon yearned to hold a blade, his head filled with stories of a glorious battle to rid the lands of evil. It was a path that called to him, an echo of a heritage he didn't know he had.

Seeing this martial spirit, the High Priestess released him from the temple's care to pursue a path more suited for his service to the immortals.

Page Years

Immediately, Vaddon went to the Paladin guild hall seeking work. He was eventually accepted as a page, performing typical chores: delivering messages, cleaning the hall, and tending to the arms and armor of the sentries. By watching the paladins, he learned the ways of civility and nobility. He practiced horsemanship in the stables and combat in the empty training halls, driven by an inner fire.

It was during this time that Vaddon discovered the library. The tomes of history, legend, and lore became his sanctuary. He read voraciously, not just to learn, but as if searching for a missing piece of himself. He was drawn to the history of the Kaldar, the Great Schism, and the fragmented accounts of Akrian Dein, feeling a strange connection to the stories without understanding why. This study sparked a deep interest in philosophical matters, as he began to question the nature of justice versus law, and the simple duality of good versus evil—a conflict that would come to define his path. In return for his service, Vaddon received shelter and an education far more valuable than coin.

Initiate Years

Upon coming of age, Vaddon joined the Paladin guild. Guild Leader Verika, already familiar with his dedication, granted him admittance. At his investiture, she shared words that would become his guide: “The Paladin's strength is knowledge, his sword and armor mere tools to hone a virtuous heart.” These words resonated deeply, steeling his resolve to find the understanding he craved.

Vaddon threw himself into the formal training program, learning to use armor, weapons, and the magical arts. He spent his days practicing and his evenings in the library or in prayer, reflecting on his purpose. As his skills grew, he began to patrol the roads, serving the citizens of Crossing and protecting them from harm. It was during these patrols that he earned the notice of a trader, whose caravans he guarded in exchange for coin to improve his station.

Squire Years

On the 34th day of the 8th month of Skullcleaver the Dwarven Axe, in the year of the Silver Unicorn, Vaddon was promoted to squire. Sir Warbrolus administered the oath, and Vaddon dedicated his life to the Paladin Code.

His first act as a squire was to seek the blessing of Khurek, the undertaker who had been a stern father figure. Instead of a blessing, Khurek rebuked him for blindly adopting the simplistic ethos of the Empire's enforcers. He chastised him for accepting a code that speaks of good and evil as if they were separate things, ignoring the whole truth of a being. The humiliation shook Vaddon to his core, shattering his illusions but also forging an iron resolve within him: to discover a truth that transcended any single code.

Vaddon intensified his training, focusing on his martial prowess and studying the noble arts of music, etiquette, and strategy. But more acutely than ever, he studied history and lore, searching for the source of the conflict he felt within him—the chasm between the law he had sworn to uphold and the deeper justice his soul yearned for. Vaddon continues on this path, seeking opportunities to follow the code while searching for a truth that feels just beyond his memory.

The Path Beyond the Code

The path of a squire is one of guided learning, but some lessons must be learned alone. Vaddon's formal squireship under Sir Warbrolus came to a quiet and unexpected end. Called away on duties that took him to distant lands, Warbrolus was absent for three long years. In that time, Vaddon did not wait; he walked his path with the same single-minded resolve that had always defined him. He continued his training, took on his own duties, and forged his strength in the crucible of experience.

When Warbrolus finally returned, he found not the squire he had left, but a seasoned paladin standing on his own two feet. There was no formal sundering of their bond, merely a quiet, mutual understanding that their time of master and apprentice had passed. Vaddon had grown beyond the need for a guide, and their relationship settled into one of respectful distance between peers.

Freed from the structure of his squireship, Vaddon's advancement within the guild accelerated. He pursued every avenue of learning with a relentless hunger, mastering the intricate forms of combat, the nuances of holy magic, and the deep wells of lore held within the guild's libraries. He rose through the ranks, earning the respect of his brothers and sisters in arms through deeds rather than words.

Eventually, a day came when Vaddon realized he had reached the summit of the mountain the guild had built. He had learned all that the instructors, the manuals, and the formal teachings could offer him. Yet, the questions that haunted his soul—the truth of his past, the nature of true justice, and the whispers of a forgotten faith—remained unanswered. He understood then that the next part of his journey could not be guided by others. Having absorbed all the guild could teach, Vaddon moved on, not away from the guild, but beyond its formal curriculum, to begin his own self-guided training in the wider world.

Reflections

Sharing of stories of battles fought, lessons learned and other musings.

A Name Forged in Forest and Strength

By my hand it has been 453 years, 359 days since the Victory of Lanival the Redeemer. The 9th month of Dolefaren the Brigantine, in the year of the Emerald Dolphin. Winter has clasped the city of Shard in its icy grip. Outside these hallowed library walls, a deep cold has settled over the world, but here, surrounded by the quiet slumber of a million stories, there is only the rustle of parchment and the soft hiss of candlelight. It is late, perhaps four roisaen before the Anlas of Anduwen, and the grand reading room is empty save for myself. For weeks, I have delved into the histories of my people, seeking to understand the path that led the Kaldar from the Gorbesh Empire to this new land. Tonight, tucked within the pages of a dense Imperial tome chronicling the "Great Schism," I found them: three brittle scraps of paper, their edges feathered with age. They were not Imperial records; the script was less formal, the ink faded. It felt like a hidden whisper, a personal account of the migration that survived the official histories. The words spoke of hardship, of leaving the stone cities for the unknown wilds, of a people returning to the embrace of nature. One passage struck me, speaking of the need for immense vadra to survive in the deep ves that became their new home. The words were familiar, echoes from my studies of Gorbesh, but here they felt different—not as words in a dictionary, but as concepts to be lived. On impulse, I pulled the heavy Gorbesh lexicons from the shelves, their bindings stiff and cold to the touch. I laid them open beside the fragile scraps. Under the flickering candlelight, I compared them. Vadra. The Imperial dictionary was clinical: "strength." Ves. "Forest." I stared at the words, my own name echoing in the silence of my mind. Vaddon Vesonen. A name I have carried my entire life as nothing more than a sound, a label given to a child left at a temple. But now, seeing the root words on the page, a truth unfurled within me, sharp and clear as a winter star. Vaddon... from vadra. The Strong One. Vesonen... from ves. Of the Forest. The Strong One of the Forest. It's not just a name. It is a legacy. It is the story of my people, a prayer from my parents given in the only way they safely could. They did not leave me nameless; they gave me a map to my own soul. All my life, I have been driven by a relentless need to be strong, to find a home in the deep wilds, to understand a justice that feels older than any law written in a book. I thought it was a path I was forging for myself, but it was laid down for me before I could even walk. It was my inheritance. Tonight, in the quiet heart of this library, the orphan I have always been feels a little less lost. My name is not a mystery, but a mission. And I have much to live up to.

A Bond of Fire and Steel

By my hand it has been 448 years, 101 days since the Victory of Lanival the Redeemer. It has been over a week since we kissed the rose. A week since Zalinyar and I were bonded. The word still feels new on my tongue, foreign and yet more true than any I have ever spoken. We have made our camp tonight in the lee of an ancient rock formation, and she sleeps now, curled near the fire's warmth with her leopard, Specktra, a watchful shadow at her side. The firelight catches the silver in her hair, and I find myself, as I often do, simply watching her, trying to comprehend the beautiful, chaotic miracle that has become my life. To an outsider, we must be a study in contradictions. I am a man forged in silence and discipline, who finds comfort in the solitude of the forest and the rigid certainty of the Paladin Code. My life has been a quiet search for a past I never knew. She is a storm of fire and passion, a lover of rum and revelry, an Elf whose laughter can fill a tavern and whose sorrows could fill an ocean. Her past is a tapestry of such tragedy and fierce survival that it leaves me breathless. I am stone and she is flame. How is it that we do not consume one another? Yet, the truth is, I have never felt more whole. The quiet places in my soul, the ones I filled with duty and contemplation, now echo with her laughter. The rigid walls I built around my heart have been playfully and persistently dismantled by her free spirit. I spent years seeking the meaning. I thought it was a solitary path. But now I see, the forest is not silent; it is alive with wind and fire and the rustle of unseen things. She is the life within my forest. This past week, we squabbled when she tried to convince me we should "investigate" a locked room in the Baron's keep, her eyes alight with a mischief that is both terrifying and utterly enchanting. I, of course, spoke of propriety and law. She spoke of the secrets the powerful keep andsto the truths they deny the world. In the end, we went hunting for brockett deer instead, and I was reminded that our shared thirst for adventure and discovery is the common ground where our two worlds meet. Whether in a dusty library poring over forgotten lore or tracking game through the wilderness, our paths are one. There are times she tests me. Her moods can shift like the sky over the plains, and the pain she carries from her past is a fortress she does not allow many to enter. But I have stood on Corik's Wall against the darkness. I am no stranger to long watches and patient defense. And I will stand with her, my stalwart heart a shield for her own. I once wrote a song for her, thinking of her as a distant, guiding star while I was surrounded by ice and duty. Now, she is the hearthfire I return to. My life is no longer just a path of service or a quest for identity. It is a shared journey, a bond of fire and steel. And as I look at her, sleeping in the gentle glow, I know with a certainty that shakes my very foundations: I have found the part of my soul I never knew was missing.

Justice, Judged: My Unholy Day in Court

By my hand it has been 446 years, 372 days since the Victory of Lanival the Redeemer. It's hard to describe the shock of it all. Today, in Riverhaven, a place I've always felt a sense of belonging, I found myself accused, judged, and pronounced guilty. The charge? Endangering the public. My heart races even now as I pen down the words. How did I, a Paladin who's taken solemn oaths to uphold justice, land in this situation? I've been through skirmishes, fought enemies, faced the darkest of evils, and yet, nothing felt as piercing as the weight of that gavel coming down. I have always taken pride in my role, my duty to the people. And now, to be seen as a threat to those very people... It's a blow unlike any other. Schist…I wear the Peace Keeper title to announce my presumed duties to these lands. The very core of my beliefs, the Paladin Code, states the essence of my duties. But now, I'm questioning everything. Is justice always fair? I've been found guilty, yes, but the turmoil inside questions the legitimacy of the judgment. I know my intentions were never to harm. If I've wronged, it was unbeknownst to me. But the Code is clear. "A Paladin is Just and works to promote and enforce Justice and the Law." I respect the law, even if I find myself at odds with it. But this incident has cast a shadow of doubt on my journey. Am I fit to wear this mantle? To wield my sword and shield in the name of justice? The situation makes me ponder deeply on the concept of justice itself. Is it absolute? Or are there shades of gray, blurred lines that even Paladins can unintentionally cross? The Code is my anchor, but right now, it feels like it's dragging me down into a sea of uncertainty. I recall the words, "A Paladin is Loyal. He does not betray his god, his liege-lord, his guild, his family, or his friends." Today, it feels like I've betrayed myself. In this moment of introspection, there's a part of the Code that stands out – the notion of being truly Evil. If the law unjustly brands me guilty, does it not teeter on being truly Evil? Yet, as I think on it, my conscience wrestles with the idea. Perhaps it's not about the law itself, but about how it's interpreted and enforced. This injustice, though painful, will serve as a lesson. A reminder that the path of a Paladin isn't easy. But it's also a path that requires unwavering belief, not just in the Code, but in oneself. Tomorrow is a new day, and with it, I'll embark on a journey, not of redemption, but of understanding, of seeking truth in the midst of doubt. This Paladin's path has taken a new turn. Only time will tell where it leads.

Whispers Amidst the Chill

By my hand it has been 446 years, 367 days since the Victory of Lanival the Redeemer. It's late. The campfire's warmth still lingers on my skin, even though I've long left the company of my fellow knights. I can still hear the distant laughter and stories as they continue their fellowship. Here in the barracks, it's just me, the flickering candlelight, and this small oaken desk I've claimed for tonight. Winter is really setting in. There's a kind of beauty in the frost outside, the kind that I've always felt connected to, being Kaldar and all. But as I sit here, bundled up and prepping for tomorrow's journey back to Crossing, there's this chill inside of me that's different from the cold I know and love. But tonight, amidst the quiet, there's a clarity that hits me hard – I miss my friends. The laughs, the banter, the familiar faces from before the Wall became my life. I reckon the Wall, for all its lessons and challenges, made me realize how much they mean to me. Funny how being away from something can make its value crystal clear. The thought of reuniting, sharing stories, and just being around them again gives my heart a warmth that no campfire can. I guess the winter outside is kind of mirroring the one inside me. It ain't about the cold or the snow – it's about the questions, the doubts. My time at Corik's Wall, the things I've seen, the choices I've made... they're all swirling in my head, like snowflakes caught in a gust of wind. But you know what? Maybe this internal winter ain't such a bad thing. Maybe I need it. Winter's always been a time for reflection for our kind. Nature rests, gathers its strength, and so should I. The Paladin Guild, my place in it, my future... I gotta think on these things, really figure them out. The cold, it sharpens things, makes 'em clearer. Maybe by the time this winter's over, both outside and in, I'll have some answers. Until then, I'm just gonna embrace it, let it do its thing. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day. Crossing ain't close, and there's a lot of road to cover. Better get some sleep. But first, a few more moments with this candlelight, just to let everything settle in my mind. Let's see what tomorrow brings.

Justice in the Night: My Personal Fight

By my hand it has been 444 years, 62 days since the Victory of Lanival the Redeemer. Last night, by the campfire in the shadows of Corik's Wall, Katala and I had a deep conversation about justice. As the flames danced and crackled, we discussed the importance of protecting individual liberties and striving for justice even when it is difficult. Katala reminded me that justice requires protecting the freedoms of all people, and that these rights should only be restricted when necessary to prevent harm to others. He emphasized that this protection of individual liberties is crucial for creating a just and equitable society. I raised the concern that striving for justice can be difficult and that it may not always be clear what the right course of action is. But Katala insisted that we must keep fighting for justice, even when it is hard. He argued that this fight is essential for creating a civilized society where everyone has a fair shot at living a fulfilling life. Reflecting on our conversation, I realize that protecting folks' liberties and striving for justice are not always easy or straightforward. But I also know that they are essential for creating a society where everyone is treated fairly and with respect. As a younger paladin, I may not have all the answers, but I can do my part by standing up for what I believe is right and striving for justice in all my actions. In this way, I can contribute to the cause of creating a better world for all. Interesting as I continue to think of this, I recall the code which says, 'A Paladin is just and works to promote and enforce Justice and the Law.' The problem that conflicts me is the shallowness of the code's focus on complying with the law. It is silent on what justice actually means in the living world. Strikes me as odd whenever my weapon calls 'Justice' regardless of what I am swinging at. To me, justice is a vague concept poorly defined by the Guild. Maybe this is why I am struggling so much with this idea. Is it even the Guild's responsibility to help me sort this out? Combining this with having taken up traveling the lands learning from Jaelia, an experienced cleric, I realize that justice is a complex and nuanced concept. This cleric continually challenges me to define this concept for myself and live accordingly. She has encouraged me to sort this out and be sure what I believe is solid. She is right! It is the foundation for my path. Without knowing what I stand for, it becomes impossible to defend my beliefs. Well, it's time for me to lay down my pen and rest my weary eyes. For tomorrow, I continue my quest for justice, armed with nothing but my wits, my sword, and hopefully a good night's sleep.

Musings at Baearholt's Tavern

By my hand it has been 444 years, 43 days since the Victory of Lanival the Redeemer. Taking time to pen this entry as I sit by the warmth of the hearth at Baearholt’s Tavern listening to the sweet songs sung by his daughter but can’t help but be somber. The mug of brown ale in my hand quenching my immediate thirst but there is another thirst to return to my brothers in arm on the wall. The early part of this winter I did join them. Renewing my friendship with Katala, listening to the sweet songs of Giyle by the campfire. Interestingly my Gorbesh continues to improve thanks to Katala’s patience and willingness to aid me. I left mid-winter to travel north to this sanctuary on urgent Emerald Knight business. An Emerald Knight’s roundtable was called on the evening of 17th day. The purpose of this meeting was to muster all Knights in the Northern realms to unite and discuss the recent moon mage’s visions that don’t bode well for those on the wall. Though attendance was disappointing to see so few Knights, it resulted in increased awareness in all the realms by mere mentioning of a meeting. Reports of several rangers and paladins joining was a sweet reward and will aid our efforts to keep the Dark Hand in check. During this meeting, I delivered a speech about the history of the Knights in an attempt to encourage all to take pride in our calling. Honestly, it was a struggle for me to capture the history of the Knights in a ten roisan summary and given my own limitations in the way of scholarly pursuits. But as I recall the words of wiser paladins, “Hard work beats talent when talent doesn't work hard.” I put forth great effort to remedy my shortcomings. Fortunately, I was tasked with recording the meeting’s conversation so it will not be lost to passing of time. Speaking of hard workers, I got to speak with Warbrolus. He mentioned that I am making good progress in his service. I may be nearing completion of my service to him. This was both encouraging and frightening as I don’t know if I’ll be ready to bear the weight of what being raised entails. I will continue with my service and training in order to be ready if the honor is bestowed on me. Recently, I have been challenged by a cleric to think more thoughtfully about justice. The code is clear on justice, but it seems to be like an onion. Many layers than I would have imagined to consider. Pulling away a layer shows a different perspective. Ironically, I continue to chalk up my confusion in this matter by blaming my own ignorance. I know this isn’t a good excuse and does not honor the guild. I strive to be more understanding and knowledgeable. This is yet another thing to learn. It reminds me of how much I still have left to learn. Also, Betlind spent some time with me sharing about the paladin guild history. It was eye-opening. Fascinating to imagine the seven souls coming together to unite paladins. However, questions lurk in the shadows of their work. I made many notes to read more on them in the libraries and explore for myself their work. The evening is getting late. The ale having done it’s work it is time to retire for the evening. Morning brings anew the path to follow.

Corik's Wall

By my hand it has been 443 years, 114 days since the Victory of Lanival the Redeemer. Where does the time go? As I reflect on the past months spent on Corik’s Wall helping the Emerald Knights. Winter was brutal. The cold winds whipped through the crevices of my armor standing on the wall. A sense of pride swept over me knowing that I am yet another stone in the wall that keeps evil away. There were some tense moments as the onslaught continued unabated at times. It taught me much about wielding the sword and shield. As the Last mentioned they have a different way of doing things here on the wall. It taught me much using the time tested actions of those that have come before me. I had the pleasure of fighting alongside Katala, a fellow Kaldarian. He has dedicated his life to defending the wall and of service to the Emerald Knights. We were practically joined at the hip as he took me under his wing to teach me the fighting ways and of my heritage. During the months together, he taught what is meant to be a Kaldar. We spoke almost entirely in Gorbesh during our time together along the wall and he was so patient teaching me the language. It made me proud to be a Kaldar and filled in the missing hole in my life of understanding of my heritage and language. I am Kaldar. Though my parents left me, he instilled a pride in my heritage and understanding. I hope to make myself worthy. Though the days and nights were long, it was a good experience. I almost began to lose myself in the new life I had assumed. Especially memorable was Giyle’s songs around the campfires in the evenings. He’s quite a talented singer. As his soothing voice carried through the night skies, it resonated in the fibers of my being the love of the gods and the life I have chosen. Eventually his melodies reminded me of words that the Last had spoken to me upon my arrival. Reflecting back on The Last words about paladins, he said “No glory down here wasting your life.” Though I had peace it began to stir my soul. As spring approached, I couldn’t help but wrestle with the question about what is glory? It can mean so many things to people but eventually I settled on what it means to me. To me, it is an indicator of worth and value. I couldn’t help but think it’s a natural response to seeing brave deeds and works. The deeds and works on the wall, do bring glory. The lessons shared by the Knights on the wall based on years of service and history need to be shared. They inspire to keep true to one’s path. They teach devotion, bravery, fortitude, justice, courage, trust, loyal, obedience, and reverence. These are lessons to share beyond the confines of the wall. Ultimately, I have chosen to return to service and walk the Paladin life sharing these lessons. From my experience, I have additional stones to my foundation. First, strive to be known by glorious deeds, not words. Second, face hardships with courage and encourage my allies to face them with me. Third, like raw stone, my body must be worked so it’s potential can be realized. Finally, I must marshal the discipline to overcome failings within myself that threaten to dim the glory of me and my friends. So as I looked over my shoulder at the wall as it shrunk in the distance, I felt a renewed purpose and direction in my life. As I passed by the Last, I tipped my helm at him for helping me get to this point in my life.

Roasted Rabbit

By my hand it has been 442 years, 286 days since the Victory of Lanival the Redeemer. Earlier this morning, it was time to set upon the journey south to Corik’s Wall. Rising early, gathering my things went to the Royal Mews to load Hav, my horse for the trek. After paying Mathwen for his assistance, we got underway leaving Crossing as the sun rose on the horizon. Though it took longer than expected it was at no fault of Hav’s. Shrines along the Southern Trade Road and northern Illithi required my devotion. The sights of Shard rising in the distance challenged my resolve to avoid the distractions that I fell to in Zoulern. I knew that surely would have succumbed to diversions in such a grand City to keep on my path. Keeping to the east, we rode around the city and hit the road south, leaving the incredible towers behind. As the path narrowed at the canyon entrance, I hesitated briefly as we plod along. Coming upon a strange looking man. He was a contradiction in appearance, with his unkempt hair and appearance, but also tidily equipped with his weapons and sharply dressed in his armor. After brief introductions, I asked about the Emerald Knights. He went on to great length about their fight, his role, and the evil kept at bay by their efforts. When I asked of him about members of my guild, he made mention of how the paladins on the wall were all about tactics. Specifically catching my attention was his comment about them being a different breed then those that are in Zoluren. As the sun crept behind the mountains for the night, I inquired about a place to rest for the night, he directed me further south for the night. As I setup camp and secured Hav, it was time to eat. Starting a fire was a bit difficult due to the dampness, but eventually it began to warm the cool evening. Next, I quickly prepared and began cooking a rabbit for dinner. Staring into the fire, as the rabbit roasted I though back to my conversation with Last. He’s words ringed true to my doubts. He said, “We got a different breed down here, these folks know battle and tactics like no other knights I have ever seen.” This could be my place of belonging and contribution. Ringing true to the paladin code of being a protector, this may be a place for me to learn from these Knights. To fight evil applying what I’ve learned further moves me closer to serving the gods which I have sworn fealty too. As the rabbit was done, I quickly ate, prayed, and went to sleep for the night.

Doubts

By my hand it has been 442 years, 246 days since the Victory of Lanival the Redeemer. As of late, I have struggled to find purpose for all my training. Despite my efforts, the struggle against evil and preservation of good have been in vain around Crossing. The corruption of the lands is so vast and widespread there must be a better way. I’ve also been plagued by wondering about my parents. I don’t understand why they left me nor why they never returned to get me. I also think a lot of my heritage as a member of the Kaldar race. All these thoughts and unanswered questions are distracting me. For goodness sakes, I have taken up knitting to occupy my time spent thinking about these things. As I continue to follow the training plan laid out by Warbrolus, my squire studies do include time in the library. I have been reading about the Kaldarian migration from the south, the Emerald Knights and the work being done to contain encroaching evil from the Dark Hand. These stories have been filling my head. I think I may venture south to those lands and see what I may be able to learn and contribute. As the seasons are turning, this may be a good time to see what lies to the south of Shard

The Code

On the early evening of 441 years, 362 days since the Victory of Lanival the Redeemer, I met with Pack Protector Warbrolus Noq'Myth in the Crossing guild hall. He has been gracious enough to take me as his squire and teach me more deeply the paladin ways. One task he gave me last andu was to find the written Paladin Code. After many days of long travel, I finally located the code and had sent word to him that I had completed this task. Our meeting this evening was for me to discuss with him what I had found. This night, he found me in the Chambers of the guild hall praying to Chadatru. As I stood up, he greeted me, and I arose saluting him briskly. Without a moment’s hesitation, he asked for a report on my studies. So, I appraised him of my work training my spiritual, mental and physical aspects. I reported on the lessons learnt working with others in groups to defend good and my discovery of limitations. He stressed to me the importance of understanding my limitations as being incredibly important. He then retold his recent reminder adventure with the Northern Watch and the lessons taught to him. It was quite interesting to hear his thoughts and come to understand that the learning does not stop even when you advance so far in the guild. I suppose that is why this work is a path and not a destination. Important for me to keep that in mind. Warbrolus then asked me to show him where I found the code. So, I took him there. Upon arriving he smiled broadly at me, and I began to recite the code that I had labored to memorize. We then began to discuss the code which really challenged me, and he helped to explain some subtle aspects by asking me questions. I think these questions were to gauge how deeply I had been thinking of the code. I know that I’m only beginning to understand what is expected of me. It is important to remind myself, this is a path, not a destination. After almost an anlas discussing the code, he encouraged me and discussed my next steps. We discussed working to obtain a holy weapon. Upon concluding that conversation, there was a long pause. At first, I felt judged deeply as he looked me over to see how I fared. I expect he was checking to see if I had the indeed braced the ways and represent the guild in a fashion typical for a new paladin and behave accordingly. The silence was, I think a test, to see if I was patient. I recall Khurek once telling me about silence. If I recall his words correctly he said, “Wise men, when in doubt whether to speak or to keep quiet, give themselves the benefit of the doubt, and remain silent.” So I did just that. Then to my complete surprise, he presented me with a weapon to use in the quest. Beyond words, I could not express my gratitude or appreciation of such an honor. He shared the history of this weapon and how fond of it that he was. He told me it’s history and meaning to him. It is an incredible gift and I only hope to be worthy of wielding it. Finally, in a typical fashion I’m becoming to appreciate of Warbrolus we went hunting. Seems talking and doing are separate things and he wanted to see how the blade worked in my hands. We took to the wilds and began slaying creatures. The weapon worked smoothly as I handled it. Deftly cutting, chopping and slicing the adversaries before me. I reverted to childish ways and began to complain of fatigue. He would have nothing of it encouraging me forward using my glyph of ease and changing my tactics. It was a valuable lesson and though not at the time much appreciated because of the ache in my bones, time has let me absorb the importance of the time spent together. It was a glorious evening in my life and am so thankful Warbrolus and my paths have been joined in this point of my life.

Crossing's Sewers

Spend the past andu and a half, engaged in rooting out the ruffians hiding in Crossing’s sewers. They are a sorted lot of petty thugs, cutthroats and footpads. They were easily dispatched by the guiding hand of Chadtru on my blade though. As we battled, the lawless kept calling out to Idon for support. It made me hesitate as they reminded me how do we end up on these paths of life. Contrasting my work with what these criminals have chosen as their work. As we clashed, I came to the awareness that evil isn’t necessarily a thing. Things are not evil in themselves. For instance, a sword is not evil. Even the stroke of a sword that chops off your head is not evil in its being. In fact, unless it is a good stroke, it will not chop off your head. Where is the evil? Its in the will and the choice, which puts a wrong order into the physical world. How did these criminals start down the path away from what is good to evil? How do we help others avoid a similar fate? There is still so much to learn. I only hope that my work continues to help me understand this world. One final thought to share is the sewers are much to be avoided. The rank smell and sludge got into every crevice of my amor and soaked my pores. It took hours to properly clean my equipment and several hours in the bathhouse to rid me of the taint of that place. Though admittedly, the bathhouses were a hospitable respite from the many hours of work. I now plan to head towards the wilderness north of Arthe Dale. I hope that fresh air will return my sense of smell to normal. The plan is to spend some time in quite study reading and reflecting on my chosen path. End of report.

Blueberry Fields

During the past andu and a half, I have taken to the helping the monastery in their blueberry fields. After coming upon a Brother on my patrols that mentioned problems with skunks and granite gargoyles. I leant my sword into their service. As I spent many taxing days slaying the infestation, I began to reflect on my motives. Specifically, the question about what is good? Finally, after several days thinking about the question, I saw a tabby cat cornered by a fox along a fence row and an answer was revealed to me. Remembering the code, I intervened and scared the fox away, freeing the cornered cat. I then recalled eavesdropping on a priest lecturing a young cleric, about how the gods teach wisdom through suffering. He quoted an ancient text that said; Day by day, hour by hour Pain drips upon the heart As, against our will and even in our own despite Comes wisdom It was at that time, I recognized that freeing the cat was a kind act but not necessarily a good act. My actions ran the fox off but cheated the cat of learning how to get out the situation on its own merit. Then I realized, kindness is wanting to free others from pain. But without pain, such as hunger, illness, ignorance, or weakness what would drive me. The more deeply we love, the more we go beyond kindness. I see parents that are kind to other children, but are more demanding of their own. Thus my realization it is more noble to do good, then simply be kind. So coming to that understanding, I have left the monks to solve their own problems. While my efforts were kind, they were not necessarily good. The infestation of their fields is not fleeting. They should make the effort to improve the stone walls to keep their enemies away. My efforts only delay their own realization of the problems they have. So I have moved on and seek out more opportunities to do good. Rumors of thugs, ruffians and cutthroats in Crossing have peaked my interest and I plan to investigate. End of report.

Goblins at the Gate

My training continues as I answered a call to arms when I heard the voices yelling about Goblins at Crossing’s northeast gate. Grabbed my sword and shield and raced to answer. Inadvertently, I may have bumped a poor traveler to the ground in my haste running through the streets. As I went through the gates going blindly into the mayhem, there were all kinds of goblins that I have never seen before. It was so overwhelming I froze as I gathered my wits. It’s as if Rutilor himself spoke to me on the whisper of the wind reminding me of the code. A paladin is a protector. Then as I saw, Alaxndr engaged with four goblins and knew what I must do. I advanced to the front into the unknown. Then upon arriving was immediately surrounded by goblins. Ashamed to admit though, I considering fleeing. Then as if the same whispers filled my head with the code, I was reminded of the code. When it is necessary to fight, I will take a forward position in the battle, facing the foe boldly. This cleared my head of the doubts and I committed to the fight before me. Knowing that the empaths Kethrai, Kaelie and Koryn, were fully engaged did strengthen my resolve. Ultimately after reconciling myself to retreating not being an option the rest was a blur. Memories etched into my mind do include valiant acts of bravery and skillful work of some of the defenders. Like seeing a goblin marauder moving like a goshawk, slice at Salvitoriel’s stomach slicing it open. But there was no stopping him. He recovered and driving in like the overwhelming force of a hurricane, swinging has maul landing an awesome strike killing the vile creature. Another sight etched in my mind was that of Alaxndr as graceful as a mongoose. He is definitely a master combatant using his maul. He landed an earth-shaking strike completely destroying a goblin’s shoulders and back. Briefly there were glimpse of Mol fighting with his bare hands. Hitting them with precision strikes and deft moves that reminded me of what I could hope to achieve one day. If a display such of that doesn’t give one confidence, I don’t know what would. It was quite a sight to see. One day, I hope I will be occupying the battleground as adeptly as those warriors. Fortunately Kaelie, Kethrai and Korya were there tending the wounded and casting their spells to calm the attackers. Honestly, without their help it would have been a different ending likely resulting in the deaths of the defenders. I could go on. But having finally cleared the gate and surrounding trails the vanquished Goblins were gone. The carnage on the battlefield was stunning. That is the end of report I suppose. The lesson learned is follow the code. Rutilor shines his light on those that live to the code.