V'Orlan Family/V'Orlan Estate/Library/Rogos' Journal

Entry 1

I fought in my first tourney today! Itorunt hosted a grand event, there were thirty competitors in total, and what ferocious fights there were. I was lucky enough to get in early and set up spaces for my fellow Perdanians. I won my first bout in the melee, by luck I suspect, as my opponent a Knight from Eponllyn was more akin to a terrible beast than a man, but I struck a lucky blow to his knee which lost him the bout, but then was absolutely demolished by the fair Duke Fontaine in the second round. Not too bad though, considering the things I have heard of him and his adventures on those northron seas.

I ended up competing again against that Eponllynian knight in the joust, and he unseated me in the first blow, and as disappointed as I was with it all I am quite glad my horse suffered no injuries, as some of the other knights in the tourney faced with their mounts.

Sleeping in my own bed again, or at least in my manor, will bring no end of satisfaction to me after so many long days of travel.

Entry 2

My first encounter with the supernatural beyond the undead occurred today. As my forces married up with Earl Joreb, a slavering werewolf charged our camp, driven to an insane bloodlust by something beyond our understanding. The archers cut it down in a hail of arrows. I inspected the corpse of the creature before it was incinerated and it looked as if nothing could come back from such grevious wounds, but I have heard the stories as every young Perdanese, that burning is one of the few ways to see the true end of a werewolf.

Entry 3

War has broken out once more. I know not what to write as I sit here. It has been four days since the North attacked, and we have scurried across the countryside trying to catch the forces of Caligus off guard, or intercept their movements, and I fear that in almost every engagement I have been a part of, it has been met with little success. Messengers bring me scrolls touting victories won by our larger hosts, but until yesterday I had only had the displeasure of fighting the undead that happen to rise in the aftermath of such conflicts.

At present, my camp feels like a snowy grave. Two small fires are all I have burning for my company, which now numbers only twenty two, all of whom injured and are being tended to by our over-worked healers, Dorius and Eloret. Eight of our number perished, or were taken prisoner by our honourless enemy, a fate I would not wish on any of kind-hearted Perdanese bretheren, and one that I find myself dwelling on.

We reached Wikenmaus ahead of the main body, Imperatrix Alyssa and I found our companies pulling away from the rest of the army along with Lady Isana's archers and thusly we forged ahead as the vanguard, a storm at our backs. I considered this a good omen, as our approach was masked by darkness and thunder, but it seems that the opposite would be true. We were in Caligusite territory for not but a few hours before we encountered an enemy host, apparently led by a Ser Hector, who appeared to outnumber us significantly. Numbers were not my concern though, as I know any Perdanese soldier is worth three Caligusites. I did dismay at the effective loss of our archers, the wind being too heavy for accurate shots, and with the appear of a second body, I began to have my doubts, but we were committed at this point, and I would not shy from danger with the Imperatrix at our backs.

And with a single cry, the battle began. Our archers were deployed at the front, and after their initial dismal volley, I directed my men forward into the ranks of the friendly archers.