Indeed, the Order has betrayed me this day. It had since come to my attention that a rift had grown amongst the Elanor, forcing either side to pin their steel to the other's throat. However, I think they were miffed to discover that I was intolerant to such treatment, and retaliated with all my ire. The hand that held the dagger to my throat was "Sir" Damric Sarrell, whom claims now the title of commander. Commander of a band of traitors.
He confronted me early this morning, and beat me even as I stepped out of the doorway. On my knees, I looked to his eyes, and I knew hate for the man. Hate enough to kill...and so I would.
He bound me, so tightly that my wrists bled, and cast me into a cell, accusing me of plotting alongside the Order's enemies. Why in the realm of Hades would I ever aid the Bandits, so alike to the men that killed my Aornn but little over a year ago? The measure of Damric's awareness as to the total lack of logic in such an accusation was demonstrated for his failure to interrogate me himself. Rather, he bade Dirienhelm to question me, a deranged man whom I have become acquainted with under his alias, "The Lady Gust". Yet, I will speak no more ill of that man, for though he is unwell, it is due to him that I did not remain in the Prisons for long.
I returned to my Estates, glad to be free of my bindings, and eager to provide Damric his comeuppance. But such was my misfortune that as I threw open the portal, he was already there. He sought to retrieve his niece from my servants' care, and had them sat upon the sofa with his steel held towards them. Upon seeing me, he attacked, and I was subject to yet another beating.
I...wept. I wept for the pain he brought upon me, ere he fled, Robynwen in tow. Gamlan thought to tend me, yet I waved him away, ashamed that my servants should see me in such a state, in such weakness(!). After a time, Bucta returned from his drinking, an activity he had taken to participating in each day, drowning away all thoughts of Quincell. He sobered nigh on the instant he saw me, and took me in his arms, to comfort me.
He inquired of me as to whom had laid such blows on me, his voice full of concern and anger. I whispered the name of his enemy, and his rage only intensified. But, he cooled it, for my sake...I couldn't cool mine. When, at last, my body was no longer wracked with such sobs, I stood.
Donning the gear of the Elanor, and belting the scabbard containing Aornn's blade to my waist, I left, unceremoniously, and allowed no farewell to part my lips. I rode upon my steed, Bryony, and sought the Captain of my Order, Kerl Duskblossom. I knew he could be found in his vigil near the sepulchral stone that served as Sir Damlan's grave. Arriving, I cast my eye about the land, and soon found him, clad in uniform like to my own.
I approached him, and his head was bowed, his mouth moving in some silent litany. I called his name, and he turned. He emitted a soft gurgling sound as crimson welled from his throat to greet the arc of my sword. He attempted speech, but failed, crashing lifelessly to the ground, his blood staining the ground where Damlan lay buried.
Damric materialized, and thought to strike me down, to fell me for Kerl's death. I recall now his words, and they were such: "I know now your anger, Hughes...And you spoke wisely when you said that there can be no friendship, no pacts, betwixt lions and lambs." Then, Bucta came to my aid, throwing himself before my frail form, his blade drawn.
A battle ensued, a contest of wrath and strength. In the end, Bucta threw down his foe, pressing his advantage, Damric's wounded shoulder. Ere, however, he could exact his revenge on the man whom had killed his child, Damric fled. From afar, he shouted at us, vowing to return in full strength.
Watching until his silhouette faded from sight, Bucta and I turned to look on the ruins that were Kerl. I feared to catch his eyes, lest there be a hatred there. I was frightened to think that he might hate me for the death of his friend and mentor. Such dread was soon dispelled, though, for he drew me to him and kissed me forcefully upon the mouth. "We've won!", he declared, "We've won, and we have driven away or slain the corruption that has come to plague our once proud order."
Would that I could share such belief...
Would that it were true...
But Damric shall return...I know it...
-D
