Journal, I am worried.

You know I am not a warrior by trade, I am a farmer. Just a farmer. Adelaide was the warrior at heart. She taught me how to swing a sword and how to properly place my feet so I do not get tripped up when dancing with death. But, she is dead. She should be here and I should be following her lead.

Oh, Journal. How much I'd love to see her now. She would be the fiercest warrior in all the lands.

If she were here, there wouldn't be any second guessing as to where to go in a raid. There wouldn't be any tongue wagging or complaining! She'd whip us all into shape!

But, she isn't here.

Instead, we have folks concerned with their own guildhalls and doing things their way instead of being concerned with the lives of townsfolks. We have people arguing with the Queen's appointed Iron Order - yes, myself included at times!

May the gods curse and burn every guildhall!

May the gods curse and destroy those lots of division and self-aggrandizement!

May the gods raze those halls and salt the lands, leaving the fields fallow and unusable!

If it brings us unity, then gods do it!

Then, when all those once-hallowed halls are brought low, may we unite for our intended purpose: to protect Valorn and her people from the darkness that bids her despair and death!

How many times have I reformed at the monument, Journal? I cannot keep count.

Myna knew the thoughts within me were justified. The thoughts of bitterness towards others in taking advantage of the citizens of Valorn. The thoughts of wanting power like the gods. The thoughts of pain and loss. She knew those thoughts were justified. But she also knew those thoughts needed to be healed.

They could not stay if I wanted to heal.

So, I left the Bromidic hills and threw myself into the perils of another challenge. Dozens of times I ended up in the mud, suffocating to death. Dozens of times I was impaled by branches. Dozens of times I fell to my death. One time I was tangled in ropes and snapped my neck.

After each death, I found myself reformed at the monument near Fartown. After each death, I found those thoughts further from the surface. After each death, I found myself healing.

I am still a broken man, Journal. My body hurts. My bones ache. I lack any suitable replacement for my gauntlets and my gear isn't as pristine as it once was. But, my mind is sharp, and my will is unbreakable. Fear has no hold on me.

I look to the coming darkness knowing we will prevail. Not because of the strength of our arm, or the quickness of mind, no. We will prevail because of something the darkness has never had:

hope.

I am a farmer and I have hope.

Journal, have you been going off and telling folks my secrets?

I had a momentary lapse in judgment. long few turns.

I was exploring the lands after smelling something filthy while meditating in the Master Trainer's hut. I don't know if he minds me being there, but as one of three Champions of Valorn, I kinda just go wherever I want. Anyway. My travels took me to the Hollows where I was stopped by one of the Generals. General Gelroth he called himself. He was the one that cleaved me in two, Journal. I realize now I probably didn't tell you about that.

I told you about the onslaught of Milltown, the guildhalls, the healers, right? One turn there appeared this Speaker and I chased him from the Temple. He turned around and in one fell swoop cleaved me in two! I couldn't make out his face then, still can't now it be so shrouded in darkness, but his gear looked the same to me.

Anyway! The General knew how disenchanted I'd become with the petty squabbles between Adventurers and the Association. I mean, he didn't say as much. But he knew I felt unappreciated. He knew I wanted power. He knew just what to say to slip through my defenses - just as his demons do our towns. But the wildest thing! I voluntarily wore the item that he used to pull me to him: the Orb of Shadows. I've cast the object aside. I will not wear a darkness tainted item again.

Well, the General put his hand on my wounded shoulder - the one which had scarred over from his battle-axe having its way with me. A transparent flame came from something he was wearing and it healed me. But it also brought to mind every loss, every pain, every bit of pride, anger, and guilt I had ever felt all at once. The sudden pain brought me to my knees and the General held me by my wrists - my gauntlets. The flame entered the gauntlets and fortified them. But, it also caused them to steal my lifeforce.

I didn't care.

I wanted power.

He told me that if I brought him Clerics, he'd turn me into a god among demons.

Yes, Journal, I can hear you gasping and saying, "Alf, you fool, that should have been red flag number 3445345234562 in this conversation!"

I didn't care.

I had felt true power of the gods twice before! Once using Kailani's armor and another time using her Battleaxe. I was a god! I was able to kill hundreds of tomb wretches in the matter of a few marcs and left the N'rolav Tomb soaked with their blood!

I wanted that power again.

I met up with Taven in the Branishor Temple and immediately I could feel my gauntlets pulling towards his Unholy Ring. When the items touched I felt a shock and was immediately empowered! The General hadn't lied to me. I knew in that moment I could have the power I sought to bring real change to the lands, to help its people, to help my people.

I sought out the only Cleric with a Sacred Ring awake at the time: Kirana.

It was there that I betrayed everything my Pa taught me to stand for. I tried to convince her that the General's promises to me proved he would release the Clerics once getting what he wanted, to no avail. When I turned to leave, Dabria blocked the door and together with Cody, Raffe, and Kirana, took me to see Myna. At first, Myna's healing warmth could not penetrate the aura of darkness that had settled upon me. And in that moment I was livid that she'd even try! How dare she try to help these adventurers who cared only for themselves, for their own pockets, for their own well-being.

But, as I turned on Raffe, Cody tackled me from behind as Myna commanded the gauntlets needed to be removed.

Thank the gods there were two of them there. After a brief wrestle, and Cody breaking my arm, they were able to remove the gauntlets and I felt the fog of darkness lift from my mind.

Myna instructed they take me to a place to heal my body and my mind, so to the Bromidic Hills we went. Even now, I still struggle with all that has happened. I do not know what will come of these events. The gauntlets are missing, my Orb of Shadow is of no use to me.

Forgiveness has been given, but I am a lesser man.

I am a broken man.

I am a farmer.

I've realized that surprises are few and far between as my bones continue to age.

Well, one of those surprises came creeping up on me a few turns ago. A young woman, Kitty Cassius, approached and asked I sponsor her as a Warrior. After we talked a bit, I agreed.

This turn, Kitty advanced again. I am guessing, based on her gear, she must be around her 16-17th lesson. So, she is handicapping herself training without a profession. While I would have liked to instill more lessons before taking her to the Temple, I felt it best to go ahead and have her learning lessons as a Warrior than continue in the lessons the Trainers provide to initiates.

This is the second person to ask me to sponsor them. The other, another woman, I've not seen in many full moons. Perhaps she has returned home.

I look forward to seeing how this young woman progresses. I have confidence she will prove herself every bit the capable warrior as her father and brother before her.

There appears to be changes upon the lands. Alexi Corsair, a Custodian within the ABV, appeared - as it was reported to me by another - and an argument ensued. Is anyone surprised? Our lot can be quite stubborn and combative, it is what makes us such good adventurers. But it also makes us lousy countrymen.

Apparently, Mr. Corsair has decided to withdraw any ABV personnel among the lands for their own safety.

I fully support that choice, of course. How many innocents have perished at the hands of demons and the domain of darkness? How many were slain in the razing of Fartown and among those that were able to flee the town? Too many.

I came down the stairs in the Dundee Inn to find Raffe hollering at Jeffrey about some watered down ale. Likely a result of the ABV's men and women withdrawing to the safety of their homes. But I told Raffe that I just didn't understand why folks were so hostile and argumentative towards Alexi. The man has been forthright about his motivations: better Valorn. And he has been forthright about how that happens: through coin. Hard to fault a guy that tells you what he will do with his right hand while expecting payment with his left.

Maybe I'm just a na?ve farmer, but I just don't have a problem with the fellow.

That puts me at odds with many, it seems.

Perhaps, Journal, I might need to make sure I have a safe place should they become hostile and argumentative with me. I wonder if Alexi will grant me asylum if they do.

Well, Journal. You're lucky! No one suspected you were behind all this nonsense. Frankly, I am still a bit annoyed with you. You don't smell anything like dirt or mint, lately.

Wait.

Maybe that is me that doesn't smell like dirt or mint lately. Just blood and sweat.

The meeting went well. I informed all who attended of the sudden appearance of these darkened figures. I call them Speakers because, and this isn't clever at all, they speak! The demons that have been roaring about for part of a cycle haven't spoken one bit! Then this first figure appears and threatens that Myna wouldn't always have protecting Adventurers by her side. I followed after him and he cleaved me clean in two with a single swing of his battle-axe. Quite powerful, that one.

I encountered a second beneath Miranda's Temple. This one taunted me, telling me he heard I looked good from the inside. Clearly there is communication going on between these Speakers.

Both of them disappeared, though, through a portal; but no portal remained behind. It is likely they are using some sort of scroll to get away.

Lavender has informed me there was possible a third Speaker. I will need to see who else may have witnessed this third one and get more details.

I am, as twisted a reason it may be, glad to see many others awakening for longer periods. I saw Raffe, a fabled Iron Commander, at the gathering. He was attentive and I was glad to pass along the information to someone so trustworthy.

A few turns earlier, Pallas, Raffe, and I were clearing assaults against the guildhalls. I had made an off-handed comment about the Iron Order compelling others to do something, I can't remember precisely what I said now, but Raffe humbly replied that the Iron Order doesn't command Adventurers unless the Adventurers enlist in their service like some assault against the Dark Fortress. I admit, that latter part isn't something I know about firsthand.

But the few interactions I've had with Raffe have led me to believe he is a man with a valiant heart and a solid mind for how to engage with others.

I am glad he is an Iron Commander.

I will admit, Journal, I'd be honored to serve alongside him - within the Order or without.

Oh! One last thing! Do you remember our dear friend, Bo Bonnie? She somehow slipped into an Ossuary and has been stuck there for some time! I am glad she is safe now, though. The gods heard her prayers and cries for help and they, apparently, rescued her.

In the turns since writing in you last, Journal, there has been near continuous onslaught against Milltown, Dundee, and many other places by demonic forces.

Is this your means of getting back at me for neglecting you, Journal?

That seems very immature.

I've called for a meeting to discuss these attacks. You better hope they don't catch wind of you being behind all of this. I won't be able to stop them from burning you.

I have found myself listless and wandering without purpose.

Perhaps it is time I return home for good.

There is a pair of trees where we would spend our time when not at work on our respective farms. There is an old set of armor stuffed with straw that we would hang from a limb by some rope. We would take turns pushing the armor or attacking it with dull swords. While at the farm, I made my way to the trees and found that old armor. I took it to her grave and set it up next to her grave marker as a sentry watching over her for all of eternity. As I made my way back to the farm late that night I swear I could hear her voice on the breeze. Maybe I heard what I wanted to hear. I don't know.

After mending the fences and settling a dispute between Pa and one of the neighboring farmers, I've made my way back to Dundee. There isn't much to do training-wise, so I'll probably follow what Pallas does and make sure the pathways are clear of vines.

I arrived home earlier this turn. Ma and Pa are still going strong since my last visit. Looks like Evelyn won't need to be taking ownership of the farm any time soon. I'll be here a few turns, I think. Long enough to make sure the fencing is whole, the fields are looked after, and that a set of trees are cleaned up.

Journal, you're still very judgmental. So, you don't get to know why I will not be staying long at home.

Be ashamed, Journal. You should really be better.