Hope and Despair

Hello again, dear reader. As I told you previously, I wasn’t sure I’d have the opportunity, or ability to write this entry in my journal. Yesterday’s battle was a battle for the legends, both in its importance for the future of our world, and also in how much lives and souls it has cost. My hand grows weary already writing these little words, but as my body is depleted and earning for rest, my soul compels me to write down the events that have transpired yesterday. It will not have rest until then, and neither will I. For that matter, I think my soul will be restless for many days to come, however many the Almighty will see fit for me to see the dawn of.
 
In the morning that we arrived in Metherol, we spent most of it devising the plan I have already relayed to you in my previous entry. It took some time and a lot of preparation, and the whole city was brought alive by the hasty yet precise movements of the people within its walls. When we had a moment of reprieve, we have gathered together in one place, to say some words, and perhaps, say a last farewell to some of our friends, our family. How fond I have grown of the people that surrounded me at that time, and I have come to rely on them more than I do on myself. And despite that, I knew that I wouldn’t be seeing some of them again, and maybe they won’t be seeing me again. At the time, that maybe seemed like an almost definitely. When I had the opportunity to speak, I expressed this feeling to everyone present, and wished for all of us to d out best to meet again in this world. I only asked them that, in the event that I do not see the next day, for them to remember myself not as a magic man, a demon-boi, Eugen, Pullius, Tallion even a wizard; instead, I wanted them to remember me as a person who gave a damn, and gave it his bestest. After that, Eve pulled me aside, and said that she is sorry for how things happened and became between us. But I wasn’t sorry. Because while I lost a lover, I gained a life-long friendship tested in arduous trials. We then hugged, for the first time ever, as friends. Then we went to our battle stations, and as I looked into the eyes of my trusted friends once more, I knew that I have to do my best.
 
Then came the night. As a one-sided blinder, it covered us all, bringing with it the uncertainty of tomorrow, hell, even today. Dillen and Orman were both scared but stayed tall besides me as we awaited the approach of our sworn enemy, the bringers of death and despair. And then we heard it. A steadily rising thum, and rows and rows of purple eyes appeared in the night, accompanied by the howling of hatred and evil. Looking at them, I wondered whether I would become one in that horde come tomorrow. It’s quite eerie to look at something and wonder if the same thing is coming for you.
 
I have sent the ships we had in the port to intercept the pirate ships, but then I heard the screams of elves, and the gutural rasping of the undead that boarded the ships from below and began killing them. I immediately went forward and purged these abominations from this world, and commanded the elves on board to retreat and form a line in front of the gates. However, we were immediately blown away by an explosion fired by the pirate’s mothership. As soon as we recovered, I saw a man come forward on the ship and throw something at us. I tried deflecting whatever was thrown in our direction, however, I did not catch it. I immediately tried to sense where it landed, and hit it with a holy light. As soon as that happened, I was shown the visage of a shadow, a wraith… carrying Cato’s xenatine dagger in one hand, and a bane blade in the other. I knew that it meant, and ordered everyone to evacuate the port, and retreat behind the gate. I understood that this is a foe beyond their ken, and I was the only one who could stand between them and carnage. And I steeled myself in preparation for maybe the hardest fight of my life.
 
The visage dashed towards me with speeds unseen before, as Cato sprinted towards me as if bedevilled; however, in his rush, he did not mind his surroundings and fell down, losing his xenatine dagger. While the concept of a wraith loosing its footing is one I will eventually have to ponder, I seized the opportunity, and letting the will of the Almighty course through me, I have sent a mighty Holy Light onto the dagger, in hopes of rendering the connection between it and Cato’s soul broken. And while I managed to break the dagger in two, making it unusable, he still persisted and attacked me again, penetrating my light shield with relative ease. If not for the protection I have cast upon myself, I would have been dead for sure. You can’t beat a prepared person, and I was as prepared as they come. I smote him again with a holy light, the one thing he could not dodge or evade, and I felt his essence dwindling momentarily, only for it to spring back with tenfold power. Thus the waiting game began, to see who would last longer: me, or the bloodthirsty beast before me. But as our fight continued, his pirate crew joined him, and blasted us with the essence of decay and defilement, weakening our life essence considerably. At that moment, two things happened: the elder cleric who was assisting me came forward and told me to step back, and Bart signalled me, meaning that he found a necromancer for me to vanquish. At that moment, I had a dilemma to solve: to finish the fight of my life now, once and for all, and save the southern gate from Cato’s wrath, or go to Bart, and render a portion of the western front undead masterless. I swore once to become everything that Cato is, and knowing that he, given the same choice, would single-mindedly remain to finish me, with no regard to his party’s safety. But Bart was not just a party member, he was my friend, my brother. Thus I asked the elder to not die, and teleported to Bart’s aid.
 
As soon as I got there, Bart bended time around us to show me where my target is, and after leaving him with my trusty cape, I let my magic become one with me, and blasted the death monger to hell with the lightning of heaven. Having left Cato in the trusty and secure hands of the cleric, I hoped that she would be able to stop him from advancing further at least for a while. I then continued my onslaught on the hordes of undead, slowly redirecting the bolts towards the necromancer I sensed near Nixie, killing another one . However, another one intercepted me, and forced me to exit this state, and I had to teleport to Nixie and fight the necromancer together. Sadly, before I could do any real damage to him, he disappeared in the midst of undead.
 
What followed, is unfortunately, the most gruesome and horrible battle I’ve ever witnessed or been a part of. Elven militia doing their best to withstand the horde of undead, my friends and me doing their best to stay the ungodly onslaught we were subjected to; but it was inevitable that our ranks would start closing up, and we started being pushed one against the other. At that point my mind flew to the magic orb that we picked up in our adventure, and I asked Nixie to pass it over to me. Then I concentrated my whole being into observing this orb, and trying to glance beyond it’s normal capabilities, searching for a way I could appropriate it’s electrifying capabilities. Having understood the way I can use it to enhance my purging capabilities, I have channeled my powers through my staff into the orb. I dare say that what happened next ism the absolute greatest explosion of arcane lightning that stroke the ground like the mother of all lightning bolts, and it obliterated 3 whole platoons of the enemy’s most elite forces. I have managed to create us some breathing ground, but through that rendering the orb completely useless for some time. I should study it more, to see if I could extract further abilities from this wondrous artefact.
 
Right at that moment, I had yet another crossroads. Bart signalled me and Eve, relaying to us the message that he has found a group of most remaining necromancers. At the same time, the flaming head of the elder sorcerer has fallen upon us from one of the castle’s windows, and Nixie with Gilders came running towards me, yelping through attempts to catch their breath that Cato is in the castle. I was enraged, absolutely livid at the lunatic that has taken even more innocent lives, and now keeps terrorising the whole castle. I found the elder paladin, Aosthen, and relayed to him what I have come to know. We decided to split the tasks ahead, with him going ahead to deal with the necromancers, and me going to deal with the crazed marsh-bastard, once and for all. We have both steeled our resolve, and went ahead. I promised myself that as soon as I am done in the castle, I would hurry to the help of Aosthen.
 
Thankfully, my friends did not leave me to face him alone. Nixie, Eve and Gilders have come with me, and I had a wonderful idea: I infused one of his bullets (he had an advanced gun from his dimension that still had some ammo) with the purging essence of arcane. We established that at the first opportunity of a clear shot, he will fire this bullet onto Cato’s dagger, while we shall stall him. Dear reader, perhaps you are already fully aware of the disdain and utter disrespect I had for Cato when he was alive; sadly, his preference for cowardly tactics has only been strengthened after his shameful first demise. He once again creeped up on us all, and tried to kill Nixie; unfortunately for him, we were prepared for this, and have sent all our protection spells upon Nixie, rendering Cato’s attacks insufficient to wound Nixie in any considerable manner. Gilders shot the magic bullet onto the dagger, throwing it away. I went for it, grabbed it, and smashed into the ground with the purging power of all my righteous fury, thus disintegrating the blade, and Cato as well. The last thing I remember Cato trying to do was to invade us with all the terror he gathered in the area. What a cunt way to die, but once again, he lived his life not much differently.
 
I immediately stormed out to assist Aosthen, and have managed to arrive there in time to hear him, on the brink of death, standing his ground against 7 necromancers, and saying the words that have inspired me most: “You shall not win this fight, nor war, because you lack the one thing everyone on our side possesses, a soul”. As they were ready to give him the finishing blow, I barged into the room, and blasted them with my soul flare; our combined efforts have vanquished all the necromancers in a fell swoop. After that, me and Bart have patched Aosthen as best as we could, and I left to pour all my remaining power into blasting the undead fiends with the bolts from the heavens. Dear reader, you might think that at that time I was hopeful, that I believed all to be better now. It really wasn’t. My friends were being brutally attacked by the undead in one last push, and they were pushed back hard. Then, the elves shouted that help is coming from… Worania? As strange as that might have been, the help was much needed, as they began wiping platoons of undead at a time in their wild horseback charge. At long last, the remaining undead army has initiated a retreat.
 
The loss of life in this fight has been phenomenally high. Almost all our forces have perished, with the remainders of several platoons having been scrambled to the confines of the castle. I rushed to see my friends, and upon seeing Nixie and Bart, I had some sort of closure, knowing that they survived. We were shortly joined by Eve, Verfy, Dillen, Marc, Vas, Kelly, Isbel, Drenizek, and…. that was it. I could not find Heron but much later, among the undead killed in the square in front of the castle. I heard some elves saying that he was the last one defending the north-west wall, and has stood his ground against 3 platoons by himself, having been pierced through the heart with a chilling blade. All the mastodons have dies as well, running into the eternal war and with battlecries on their lips. Orman has also died in battle, facing one of Cato’s pirates, the kitchen brute with the giant knife. I found out later with some sort of closure that Verfy and Dillen managed to put an end to his madness as well. At that point, I believed I was heartbroken; unfortunately, it did not end there at all.
 
The leader of the horse-back platoon has presented herself as Sylvia Halvel, the leader of a refugee camp in the forests of Vaneolin. The reason for the refugee camp existing was that the United Front created by Damaschini has been decimated. Xantinia has entered Worania with Haldric as her king-figure, and had the backing of Maal the Lich King, an army of Ikains, and an orc horde. The most devastating news was rather that Ionolia has adhered to the United front, and have fought besides the armies of humanity against these forces, and have been totally, irrevocably beaten. King Yanis died fighting, so did the Great Ordinator; Usa Laominis is no more, so is the Marion temple and the Marion hill. That means that my father is no more as well, as well as all the wizards of Ionolia. The one holy place of humanity’s religion, obliterated into tomorrow, as instead of a hill remains only a crater where the Marion hill once stood. This news was devastating beyond my ability to comprehend it at the time, as I simply felt that I fell on my knees, all my power stripped from me, despair slowly creeping it’s way into my heart. All seemed lost, and after hearing that there are no news from the Nine Tomes and Legondol, the Elvish capital, is under siege by the strongest undead army in the area, I felt my legs turn to jelly. If the Primordial Beech falls, the end of the Elvish race is near.
 
Then something in me just snapped at the whole cruelty of the situation. At Xantinya’s cruelty. Her willingness to destroy everything for some made-up beef she has with the Almighty. So what if her elf has not been chosen to be king? So what if she is the primordial sinner? So what if she has an army bigger than anything the world has ever seen? Screw her. I searched through my bag until I found it. The insignia of a Ionolian mage, the one I took of after I grew disillusioned with their leniency, the one I did not feel belonged on my chest. As they have gathered their bearings and joined the United Front, as I heard how every single one of them has risen up to the fight, I felt that I was proud to be a Ionolian wizard, and that I am most likely the last one to bear this mark with pride. I have re-attached it to my chest, and risen up. I asked everyone around me not to weep, because the fight is not yet over. I asked them not to despair, for our fallen are watching us from above, and I myself do not want to be ashamed when I meet my father in the afterlife. Drenizek also rose up, and said the same thing. We cannot give up, not when we have accomplished the first victory for good, even if it is a short-lived one. And I will not lose hope that truth and justice
 
As long as I draw breath, my soul will earn for justice to be served to the usurpers. Justice for the loved ones we have lost. Justice to that bitch Xantinya, even if it would be the last ever act of my life.
 
Gilders looked at all of us, and said that even though he knows little to nothing about our dimension, he was drawn in by how we struggle and how we fight. We have decided to take him up on his offer, and have requested any help Lullaby and Bajid can provide in this fight. No. In this war.
 
Thus begins my war for the Almighty. May He help us all.