Grim Views

Richard Deran's Journal

Pincus - December 12, 2005

3rd August:

It has been 2 years now. 2 years being the servant of Lord Dorian
here in Redridge. I clearly remember the day he hired me. I was
between jobs, again. I was just fired from the local blacksmith
for what I thought was a petty reason.

I was by the docks, drinking, where I saw this thin man in robes
by the inn, clearly irate at a goblin by the mailbox. As I headed
towards the inn for more drink, I could tell trouble was brewing.
Some shouting about payment of a parcel and what not. Never did
like those grubby, dirty, green-skined bastards. In my slightly
drunken-state, I slapped that gobbo around.

I must have slapped him silly, because the look of fear on that
gobbos face was something to behold. As if I put the fear of
death into him. Granted, being in the army taught one to kill
with their bare hands, but I don't think I was hurting him that
much. When I was done with him, this gobbo was screaming "No
more, please, let me live. No doom. Here, take, leave me alone."
He then ran off, leaving his entire mail pouch behind.

"Worthless waste of living flesh, those goblins. All they live
for is money, money, and more money. Their greed will consume
them, as it has consumed others for generations," said the robed
man. He then reached down into the pouch, and pulled out a small
parcel, wrapped in plain brown paper, which seemed to radiate a
warmth and a head spinning and pounding I have never experienced.

"And you, you drunk, you are no better than that goblin. Instead
of taking, you are disposing. Disposing your life, disposing any
skills you have into a bottle of foul Dwarven ale. Stop drowning
your sorrows with alcohol, go drown them in that lake over there.
The world would be better if you did."

And for a moment, I did eye the lake. The release from my world
of pain, of failure to myself, was attractive to me, moreso than
on other occasions. However, I wasn't going to let this scrawny
runt get the better of me. How dare he request I go kill myself!

I told him off, I did. I blathered off how death wasn't going to
make things better. How suicide would be the weak way out, that
it wouldn't make the world a better place. Or something to that
effect, for my head was really beginning to pound in the summer
sun.

Then, what he said next was one of the kindest things anyone had
ever said to me, and one of the most frightening:

"Even when faced with the simple act of a quick death, you choose
the path of self-destruction. Some would see that as a path of
folly, a sign of sadism that hints at madness. However, what
those people do not realize that within this idea of
self-destruction lies a pathway to inner strength. A strength
that can be used to accomplish many things.

I have been looking for a suitable servant for a while now, and
these lands are filled with simpletons and drunks like you. So
far, you seem to be the most... capable... which is not saying
much at all. Come work for me. If you stay off the alcohol and
perform your tasks with due diligence, you will be treated well.
If not, you will wish you were at the bottom of that lake."

5th August:

I like this time of year. Lord Dorian's students for the year
arrived today, and now the place isn't so quiet and lonely
anymore.

Of course, the students aren't so lively either. The 4 pupils
this year are all new, split gender this year. However, like the
rest of Pincus's students, they're all snobby smart people. But,
he keeps saying he will only take the best for whatever he
teaches.

The downside is that while the students are here, my workload
increases. More dishes to clean, more food to prepare. Worse, I
have to maintain the herb garden. If I screw that up, Pincus will
have my hide. It is his pride and joy, and his only form of
relaxment he enjoys that I know of.

22 August:

Something happened today.

I was in town, doing shopping. I return, and one of the students
was lying face down in a pool of blood. Her clothes were ripped,
and her flesh was savagely ripped from her bones. I know we have
problem with those savage orcs from time to time, but I never
have seen them attack our villa.

I enter the atrium, and can hear in an angered tone, Pincus
shouting something about "carnal desires", "must focus at all
times, lack thereof will get you killed" and "at least you
redeemed yourself, but they are not as forgiving as I".

Lord Dorian and two of the students came out of the library he
uses for his classes. "Richard, come here! I need you to attend
to one of my students, and your triage experience would be
most... handy," he said in an angry, but calm voice. "And when
you are done, please burn the corpse outside. She did not survive
the... attack all too well."

I made my way into the library, still carrying my pack full of
goods from town. I sit down beside the bloodied student, his skin
white, and trembling with fear. I grabbed the wool bandages from
my pack and began to dress his wounds when I notice something
interesting. The gashes are not that from a blade, for I've seen
my share of battle scars. They seemed to be scratchmarks. On
further inspection, the scratches appeared to be produced by a
male. That is when I noticed the flesh under the nails of the
student. His flesh.

What happened here?

No date given

I woke in the middle of the night to a loud crash that came from
the villa. I darted out of my small shed by the garden with rake
in hand to see what had happened.

I get there, and lying in the middle of the atrium was a burnt
cinder, something that... I believe was human.

Lord Dorian was standing in the corner of the atrium, putting his
wand away. "Richard, everything here is under control. One of my
students became... reckless... and needed to be taught a lesson."

Well, that was two for this year gone. And only the 5th of
September. I bet myself all the students will be dead or expelled
by the end of the year.

On second thought, I don't think Pincus ever expelled anyone...

14rd October:

Something is wrong.

Lord Pincus seems more worried than usual. In my years of service
with him, I have never seen him show any emotion whatsoever.

However, today, as he was coming from his study, his eyes looked
weary. What he asked of me, and how he did it, was what got me.

"Richard, do you still have your armor and sword available? I
would hate to see your... training to be softened by my demands.
I want you to keep up your practice. You are a skilled fighter,
and while not as intelligent as my students, you perform... tasks
that are useful."

It was not what he said, since he always held some dispise to my
service in the Army. It was how he said it, with a slight waver
in his voice and not looking at me directly. Never in my two
years with him has he not stared me down. Never.

Today was also one of the few times I have drawn my sword since I
left the Army. Swung it around, and realized I still knew how to
wield one.

21st October:

Everything makes sense now.

I went into town today to run some errands for Lord Pincus. While
in town, I swung by the inn to pick up some fresh meat. It was
what I saw that made me realize what Pincus told me last week.

It was a wanted poster.

With a poor sketch of Pincus's face on it. It read:

"The Archbishop of Stormwind has ordered the arrect of Pincus
Dorian. He is accused of treason and sedition against the Kingdom
of Stormwind. His "school of magic" has been deemed to be a haven
for those who wish to overthrow and murder the King and Royal
Family of Stormwind.

Any citizens who have information pertaining to the location of
Pincus Dorian will be rewarded 100 gold."

I wanted to tear down the poster, but there was a Stormwind guard
standing next to it. I have never seen that before.

I finished my errands, and returned to the school. I ran directly
to Lord Pincus's study to inform him of what I saw... and all he
said was:

"I know. I hope your training is going well."

31th October:

We are somewhere east of Lorderan. It has been a long few days,
hiding during the day, and riding at night through the swamps and
forests.

Two days from my last entry was when the Stormwind Army showed up
at the villa. It was past midnight, for I could hear the bells
tolling from the town. The only way I knew they had shown up was
ome of the regulars made the mistake assuming the toolshed was
empty. A loud man, who thought he would get the jump on us.

I quickly rolled out of bed, donned my mail shirt, and grabbed my
sword. I took a deep breath, drew my blade, and charged from my
meager home ready to defend it to the death.

It was what I saw in the pale moonlight that shocked me.

I was welcomed not to the battle cries of the Army, but
screaming. Screaming that can only come from one being slowly
tortured to death. In the well-kept herb fields of Lord Dorian's,
I saw dogs. At least, I though they were dogs. The light that
evening was dim, and I could not make out what was attacking, but
I swear I saw something that looked like dogs.

What I am sure of was I did see the gleam of plate running in all
directions. Not the usual cohesive motions I would expect from
trained regulars. They were running from the dogs, something you
would never do if well armored... dogs are harmless!

However, my amazement at what I was seeing was quickly broken by
the sound of an approaching horse. I swung around and took a
defensive stance ready to be trampled.

"Get on Richard. We must ride. My students will... take care of
this, and buy us time to escape. They are more skilled to deal
with the... animals I have let loose. You, however, are best
served with me. I need your knowledge of the land to make our way
north. Hurry on, or you will be killed along with everyone here."

Over the next few days, we travelled carefully. Avoiding towns,
hiding our movements, living off the land. All this time, Lord
Pincus was definitely miserable. He was not used to this
lifestyle, living off the land and such.

But something else was eating him. My guess is that we just
witnessed his life's work razed to the ground, and is now a
wanted man. That would surely destroy someone on the inside.

Of course, this means I am wanted as well. Probably will be
punished by death, too. I, however, have already faced and
repented my sins long ago. Death is something I do not fear.

I wonder if Pincus has done the same, and has accepted his doomed
fate.

5th November:

We have settled somewhere northeast of a farming community around
Darrowshire. I found an abandoned farmstead that I think we will
call home for a while.

Squatting. It is not something I think I would ever come to
doing. Let alone Pincus.

8th November:

Lord Pincus is trying to keep busy. He seems more restless at
time goes on. He is trying to get a small herb garden together
again. He complains that the soil seems to be unfit for anything.

Probably explains why the farmstead is abandoned. If nothing
grows, then what good is it?

I am heading into town today. I think it is time to get some
fresh food stocks. Winter is approaching, and we need to be ready
for it. The climate here seems to be a little less hospitable
than in Redridge.

9th November:

I brought a large stock of grain and salted meat from town the
other day. Snooping around our adopted home, I also found a cache
of jarred vegetables. Not the grand food of the villa, but I can
do something with it.

Lord Pincus seems to be more irritable, and has taken to coughing
from time to time. I've rarely seen the man sick. I guess it must
be all the stress he is under.

15th November:

Lord Pincus is now bedridden. I have become busy, trying to fill
his seemingly unreasonable demands.

It all started 5 days ago. Pincus collasped during his midday
meal with a high fever. I picked him up, moved him into his cot,
and drew some water collected from the well. Applied a cold
compress to help alleviate his fever.

He then asked me to fetch some books from his bags. This is when
I knew his fever was serious. Never, and I mean never has he
asked me to fetch ANYTHING from his library. I brought him the
two dusty tomes he asked for, and he quickly thummed through
them, barely able to stay up in bed.

Now, for the past few days, I have been scouring the area for
roots and plant life and getting a horrible crash course in
alchemy along the way. I'm a military man, not one of these
pharmacists!

Today, he asks me to memorize these words from one of his books.
My mind cannot handle this, but he insists between coughs that
this is of dire importance.

I think tonight I will be reading.

And another note, I had to burn all the salted meat. It seems to
have been improperly prepared, and has already spoiled.

20th November:

Today, Lord Pincus succumed to his fever. I buried his corpse
behind where we took refuge for these past few days.

His dying request was an odd one. He asked for another book from
his bags. This one was a leather bound tome, with a strap and
buckle to keep it closed. I had to help him undo the clasp. He
opened up the book, tore out a page, and handed it to me.

"After I am buried, wait one day, and come to my grave. Read the
following, and then make haste to safe lands. These lands contain
a taint, a dark one at that, one that I wish I could control
fully. However, I cannot, but I can reduce its effect on me...

Take the rest of this book, and burn it. Noone should posess the
secrets it contains."

This evening, the book will keep me warm so I may follow my
masters dying request. How will this page reduce the effect of
death?

21st November:

I am riding. Riding for my life.

I woke the next morning, ready to perform the dying request of
Lord Pincus.

I went to the grave, and all I found was an empty hole.

By that hole was a walking corpse. The corpse of Pincus.
Animated, in life again. But not. It was horrid, his flesh was
falling off in parts, and his bones exposed in parts. I have
never seen a person decompose so quickly.

It then charged me in a rage, attacking me. Even unarmed, my
strength was no match for this beast. But it seemed stronger than
I would have expected for something so broken. I knocked it to
the ground, and ran for the horse.

I jumped on, and rode until I could ride no farther. It does not
seem that Pincus was an isolated case. I could hear the screams
of people as I rode, and saw others fleeing as I was. I even saw
walking corpses along the countryside.

I am sorry Pincus, for not fulfilling my final promise to you.