Tired I have grown, hiding within Torregiano gathering my strength. At long last I have travelled from my borrowed dwelling only to find myself currently within the City of Darrowmere. I have found a suitable Inn and have not left since walking the city. Why I have chosen this place in particular I cannot truly say. I have chalked it up to a strange urge or instinct that has driven me here. This town itself seems most unremarkable, and upon a small inspection I find myself wondering why I came in the first place. Surely there are better places in which I can test my newfound body. Still it is with great relief that I find the pain of my tortured body recedes with each day that I wear the Armor of Escalore. For now I shall go downstairs, eat my fill, and get a good night's sleep for tomorrow.
I hastily scribble these notes down, to record the events which have passed since writing in my Diary earlier this day. Conversing with the locals downstairs, I came to learn of a mighty beast which lives within the sewers of this very city. For years, this government has posted rewards for the removal of such a creature. When I inquired as to where I might find the entrance to these sewers, the man who was telling me this tale suddenly refused to speak further of it. The more I pressed the man, the more he remained steadfast against giving me further information. In a fit of rage unlike any I have ever felt in my life, I picked the burly man up as if he were but a toy toll. Wielding what felt like the strength of ten men, I threw him through the ceiling with but a single arm. Understandably I was asked to leave the Inn. Furthermore, the man whom I tossed was thankfully alright for the most part. Only a broken arm and a bruised body from our encounter. I am forced to wonder what provoked me into such a fit. I am also forced to wonder what inspired my sudden burst of strength, though I suspect it can be traced to the Armor. The local authorities have agreed to pardon my rash act on the condition that I seek out the monster within the sewers and dispose of him forever. First thing tomorrow morning I shall set out to do just that.
--Nathaniel Stormweather
Darius' eyes stared over the moistened cloth tied around his mouth and nose, as he surveyed the destruction around him. This village had not just been razed, it had been brutally stricken from the face of the continent. Stepping through what was left of the charred wooden gates, he entered the catastrophe which was all that remained of the small farming outpost just south of Mobliz.
A branch snapped underneath Darius' footing causing a startling cracking sound amongst the silence and dull whoosh of the dying fires. Kicking the branch aside, he nearly gagged as he realized that what he had broken was a charred human arm...just the arm.
The sound of heavy wings caused Darius to crane his neck upwards, his concern turning to relief at the sight of the large Shou Dragon touching down upon the burned ground. Snapping his jaws Avalon nodded forward, signifying that Darius should proceed further into the deathtrap of a village. Folding his wings to his side he rumbled a single word.
"Survivor..."
Nodding tersely, Darius continued into the outpost this time watching every step he made. Hearing footsteps running behind him, he began to turn and draw his wand.
"Mavin..."
Avalon nodded for Darius to keep moving. However Darius waited until he saw Mavin burst from the smoke before continuing on. Trying to catch his breath, Mavin slowed to a walk beside Darius. His voice was muffled beneath the cloth tied about his own mouth and nose.
"Throm's reports were correct. Someone or something wiped this place from the map."
Nodding, Darius replied, keeping his eyes on the path ahead of him.
"Let's just hope that it's not who he thinks it is..."
Mavin nodded, and the trio continued in silence, finally reaching the heart of the small village. Every single building appeared to have been razed completely to the ground. The ground still snapped and smoldered reacting to the intense heat which it had been subjected to. Bodies were strewn about as if part of the wreckage. Some were merely burned to blackened crisps. Others were missing limbs and had clearly been the victims of a sharpened edge as well as the flames.
Avalon snorted nodding ahead of the group. Darius and Mavin looked into the smoke, but it revealed nothing. Snorting again, Avalon buffetted his great wings clearing the smoke ahead with but a few strokes.
Before the trio lay three bodies which were hung from a single unscorched building by meat hooks. They were arranged in order of size, ranging from the first who could be no older than six. To the second who could have been within young adulthood. The third was clearly an adult...still it was hard to tell as the skin had been removed from all three bodies.
Pulling down the cloth covering his mouth, Darius retched the contents of his stomach all over the ground. His breakfast hissed and steamed as it hit the hot surface that was once a small road.
Avalon nodded to the body which was hanging in the middle, and nudged Mavin closer. Mavin nodded gravely and pulled on a thick set of leather gloves. Patting Darius on the back as he slowly made his way forward, he muttered.
"Get back to the Bastion. Send a crystal broadcast back to Westbridge advising them that we have a survivor."
Though he was the team lead, Darius was in no mood nor condition to offer any sort of response save a short nod. Pulling the cloth about his mouth again, he jogged off into the smoke.
With great care, Mavin lowered the skinless form, to the ground, wrapping him within his cloak which he had set down.
"You're safe now, can you speak?"
A gargled moan was his only reply. The rumbling voice of Avalon once again sounded from the dragon.
"No voicebox..."
Mavin muttered a small curse as he realized that the Shou Dragon was right. A large gaping hole was left where a voicebox should have been. This was probably their best link to who had committed such an act. Whoever had done this had been quite careful to leave nothing of themselves behind. Wrapping a single cloth about the victim's eyes which now had no lids, Mavin turned to Avalon.
"I am going to return to the Bastion...from there I will summon in our survivor, I trust you can find your way back?"
Not bothering with a reply, Avalon turned to keep a watchful eye on the survivor. Not bothering to wait for an answer Mavin uttered the spell that would carry him back to the airship.
LATER ABOARD THE BASTION...
The clattering of someone coming down the stairwell, caused Mavin to look up from his charge only to see Darius come bursting into the Common Room. Both shook their heads at the sight of each other's blood covered garments. Stepping forward, Darius knelt down beside the dying man who lay before the great fireplace.
"I was unable to reach Throm via crystal broadcast. He seems beyond the reach of mental communication was well."
A low moan came from the man on the floor. Mavin stood pulling Darius to the side. Leaning close he whispered in his ear.
"We can't just do nothing. Your the team lead, you'll have to make the call Darius."
Nodding, Darius gazed into the fireplace which was barren of any flame at the moment and replied.
"I already have. This man is beyond the healing of our Bath House. He won't survive the trip to nearest civilzation save Vector...and he certainly won't survive being shot down as we are no longer welcome within these lands. We shall set a course for northwest of Torregiano. There is a small house there that will be our only recourse..."
Shaking his head, Mavin peered towards the sad form upon the Common Room floor.
"We can't do that to him. He has been through enough. You know the kind of life that leads to. I don't even have to mention that we aren't exactly the welcome type there either. We'll have better luck with the Vectorians."
Darius' face set to stone, as he wiped his hands clean on a towel he had brought down with him. Reaching into an inner pocked of his robe he pulled out his spectacles and set them carefully upon the bridge of his nose.
"Yes and should we do that, we shall no doubt be under blame for the destruction of yet another Vectorian outpost. I wouldn't choose this course of action unless it was the only thing we could do. Looking at the big picture, it is answers we need...those answers may prove to be more important than this man's life...or ours for that matter. As you said, I am the team lead...this is my decision to make."
Mavin slowly paced over to the skinless man upon the floor. Reaching down, he drew the cloak he was wrapped in tighter to control the bleeding. Pointing a long finger at the fireplace, it burst into flames cause the bloody man to issue yet another moan. Mavin waited until the flames receded to a dull flicker before standing and joining Darius before the stairwell. Looking up he nodded.
"Is Avalon aboard yet?"
Darius nodded, casting one final glance at their passenger.
"All right, let's do this then..."
This is the first day I have written since my ship crashed upon the shore of this continent. As my original diary has surely been lost to Umberlee, I have acquired this small leather bound tome from which I scribe these words still lost in amazement at the situation I have found myself in.
The armor in which my host has imparted upon me has qualities that would peak the curiosity of many a scholar back home no doubt. My broken body seems to have mended itself upon it's use. Though the chore of donning such gear was painstaking to the point of insanity, it paled in comparison to the tortures in which I endured under the care of the Vectorians. It was nothing in contrast to the pain of drawing a single breath, or taking a single limped step.
The greatest benefit lies within the helm. Though my eye sockets now lie empty of any organs which would provide me sight, I find that the helm grants me vision of better nature than I had before the Vectorian interregator took a corkscrew to my eyes. And because no healer has been able thusfar to repair my body, this seems my only recourse.
Tonight, Master uth Bannon leaves for a town called Westbridge. I have elected to remain behind in preference to solitude much to the visible dismay of my host. He has my best interests at heart, this I know. However I find myself in dire need of solitude after these hard months of past.
Master uth Bannon has warned me that removal of the armor may well result in the return of my original condition. I am shamed to write that my own fear prevents me from testing this theory. There is nothing I wouldn't do to prevent returning to the pitiful state in which I can thank the Vectorians for. I know not when I intend to return home...nor what kind of welcome I am to receive with my condition. For now I shall put such matters out of my mind as Master uth Bannon warns that negative stress my have adverse affects upon the magic of the Armor of Escalore as he calls it. And so it is, that even as I could surely write all day and night, I shall dry this last page and fall victim to the numb embrace of sleep.
--Nathaniel Stormweather