D'Saferate Family/Corwin/Journal/1

The Chronicle’s of Corwin and the East Continent By Corwin D’Saferate

CHAPTER 1: A Stormy Beginning

I lay on my back, the bandages across my stomach concealing the stinging wounds underneath that remind me that life is nothing to be squandered. The smell of healing salve clears my consciousness enough to lift the quill to the blank pages of this journal. I’ve decided to travel the world, but I am getting ahead of myself now aren’t I? Introductions are in order! My name is Corwin D’Saferate. I was born and raised in Tara, on Atamara, half a world away. I left to the ancient lands of the East Continent in the hopes of learning more about the world and how people live. This journal is intended to document my journey as I travel the land, searching for that which we all search for, the purpose of life and hopefully an end to strife. To pay for my travels, my followers and I intend to fight monsters, help the locals and try to stimulate understanding and fellowship across the lands. We are “The Blood of the People” and this is our story.

I arrived on the East Continent in Yssaria. My voyage across the seas ended abruptly when my boat capsized during a fierce squall off the east coast of the continent. I thought I would die as water filled my lungs and my thoughts drifted to the black depths of the sea; however, death was not to be my fate.

I awoke in a land the likes of which I’ve never seen before, a bustling city lay outside the window of the room I lay in. This was Hamadan, the heart and soul of Yssaria. Alas I was not to stay there long. I intend to end my journey here and will write more about Yssaria then. I did however meet a group of soldiers who were looking to travel and provide aid to those in need, when I told them that I was the sole survivor of the shipwreck and alone in a strange land we decided to travel together. After some exotic tasting ale and food, the Blood of the People was born. We set out from the capital towards Ibladesh, a country to the west because my new friends wished to make a pilgrimage to the holy city there. Just like that, my journey had just begun. On the way out of Hamadan I passed many busy streets lined with stalls smelling of baked goods and vendors selling strange round pastries with holes in the middle. I though it was would be a good idea to try one of these “donuts” because apparently they are symbolic of these people’s beliefs. I thought it strange, but I am sure my leather armor with the blue lion crest of Tara emblazoned on it must have seemed equally weird. It was; however, very tasty and we were quickly in the beautiful Yssarian countryside. Not more than a half hour from Hamadan. I was struck with a horrible crippling stomach pain and nausea. It turns out that I am allergic to those yummy little pastries.

The trip was uneventful until we crossed the border into Ibladesh. We stopped a courier that was speeding along the road and asked him to send out a letter to the local lords informing them of our arrival to their lands. When he was no more than a hundred paces away, my friends and I heard a feral scream and hulking shapes quickly ran from the woods! The huge beasts had scaly hides and tusked faces, the sheer ugliness of which could only be matched by their foot-long serrated claws. I had only just drawn my sword when they ambushed us, luckily the courier sped away at the sight of the beast and I could hear him yelling in the distance for help. Two of the beasts quickly took down three of my men, their claws easily shredding my men’s chain and leather armor. As the monsters snorted to each other, obviously trying to organize themselves, some able-looking spearmen arrived hustling down the road from the direction the horse rider had come, the local milltia also showed up with a volley of arrows. I returned my attention to the battlefield to see a huge troll standing half again my height, not more than ten feet away. It’s hideous visage bearing down on me in a grimace of sheer hatred, I brought my sword up and buried it into his face only to have it’s claws rake though my leather armor in a cruel arc. The sheer force of the blow knocked me unconscious.

And here I am now, in a tent healing from my injuries. The fate of my friends is unknown to me, but for now I must rest. I pray to whatever gods exist in these strange lands to look out for them and speed my healing.