I still remember

I was there before the world changed…
Before the light returned…
Before the darkness even fell…

Of course there were many who lived in those days, many more than are living today, sadly. But I was there when it all started…there to see them before they realized their destinies. Devonia was calm; the world at peace for the last hundred years and more. Yes, the Turathic empire still existed, plotting their return to world dominance under the burning skies of Thelema. And kingdoms still had their petty disagreements, even wars. But the foundations of the world stood firm, and all seemed quiet on the day it all began.

Not yet heroes, these men, at least yet in stature. For now they were but fellow travelers, their humble appearance belying the greatness that would one day flow from them to cleanse the world of horrors that would remake it. Four of them had met on the very day they first made their mark: a descendant of dragons seeking to bring honor and glory home to his ancient land…a druid, following his mysterious animal instincts to a purpose veiled perhaps even from his own eyes in those early days…a sorcerer, wandering the world with a temperment as wild and unpredictable as the magic that flowed through his veins…and lastly an arcane stranger, an alloy of magic and battle dropped from another world into this…

Blissfully unaware of all that was to come, I met them three days’ sail north of the great East Meridian trading city of Trantor. Having converged upon this cosmopolitan place from diverse directions, each with their own reasons for doing so, all had booked passage on the trading vessel White Sturgeon bound for the southern coast of Altamira. The Sturgeon was a large ship with railings inlaid with ivory and pearl, though even so it hardly approached the size or opulence of the greatest vessels servicing the Trantor harbor.

The captain, a large man named Miroslav, had a voice that boomed out through a full black beard to be heard above the surf. Proud of his ship, Miroslav was fond of boasting loudly the fact that he was not only Captain but the free and clear owner of his ship, a claim that none of the larger ships’ Captains could match. On deck Miroslav would always wear a tattered white skullcap to protect his bald head from the sun, and for the first two days of the journey he kept busy with the crew, ensuring a safe navigation through the crowded waters of Trantor and across the open sea. A fair wind had blown and good time made across calm waters, so with time on his hands, Miroslav asked the party to join him in the crew’s mess for dinner.

This journal chronicles the rest of the story…

Dark Intrusion

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