6th day, 1st ride, April, 1372 DR
I got up early this morning, hoping to greet a cloudy sky and forgetting about the bad night of sleep that I got. I’ve never been too comfortable standing in the spotlight, especially when I’m being ridiculed, and I think it left its mark on me while I slept. After having eaten well I went outside and even though the weather was calm, I managed to enjoy this little village. Black Switch is a small farming community, with a tiny village center surrounding a pond. I stood upon a hillock overlooking the pond while I prayed. It’s not often that I enjoy the peace and serenity of beautiful scenery around me, but while I reflected and prayed I did.
Priests of Abaddon, especially the Archons of Fury, are naturally drawn towards conflict. Like moths to a flame we gravitate towards the building tension between two nations, both sides having troops skirmish along the border until the first spark ignites the full fury of their battle. We all come from fields of conflict, and we always return to them, hoping to recapture that first moment of Abaddon’s embrace. On the fields of conflict, we seek others like us, or we seek to create others like us, like we were once created by those who came before us. We strive to bring perserverence, resilience and fortitude to those caught up in the conflict, to speak calmly until the time of speaking is over. To stay patient until patience breaks and is replaced by action. To show overwhelming might and fury when the time for action is there.
I’m rambling again. Unlike Heron, my mentor, I don’t yet possess the skills to put this feeling, this enormous elation and love I feel, into words that I can easily convey to others. I’m not in tune with them yet; they overwhelm me and make my thoughts and words run a mile a minute. It’s because I’m not used to this wonderful feeling yet, even after all these years. One day, and I think that day might not be far off, I’ll be used to this feeling, and I’ll be able to harness and channel it. I’ll be reborn an Archon, like I was once reborn a priest. At that time I’ll be able to delve deeper into the essence of Abaddon, into the eye of his storm, and understand the ageless force, the booming thunder and the piercing lightning of his might.
We rode out early and arrived back in Daggerfalls just before midday. After making a stop at the Teshford Arms, we headed out to the garrison almost immediately to discuss our findings at Castle Dunbarton, and get paid. We took the head along, hoping to lend some credibility to our story, but Sir Ariton Delmis, commander of the Freedom Fighters, whom we spoke to in absence of captain Mestine Durmarck, seemed to think it was distasteful. I’m guessing Sir Ariton never really had to get his feet wet. We were paid our dues, and were told that Mestine’d be back the following day and that if we were interested in more work we could report to her.
The rest of the day has gone by without any remarkable events, but this evening Abel made another friend; a girl by the name of Hazel who claims to be a druid. She’s an odd one, and I’m going to reserve judgement until I’ve had further opportunity to talk to her.
Now I’m laying in my overpriced room at the Teshford Arms. Olavia is still overcharging us by a mile and more. I’m considering just putting down some money for one of the houses in the city or an abandoned farmhouse outside of it. It has to beat the gold we’re spending here.
