((This journal is a locked tome strapped to his belt he keeps with him at all times.)) Journal Entry #1 Observation. It has all come full-circle... Clarification. Tallest Tree fell, kinsmen scattered, Lord missing, Knight left without a cause... Addendum. Taranis fell, kinsmen scattered, Lord missing, Knight left without a cause... Inquiry. What is a Knight without a Lord? Addendum. What is a Soldier without a cause? Addendum. What is a servant without a master? Flat. This Sector only has two constants. Observation. Fire by which all is eventually consumed. Addendum. And the cycle of it all repeating. Ominous. And we're all trapped in it...
Journal Entry #2 Ponderous. Meatbags... Curious creatures... Observation. What they have in biological variety is only eclipsed by all the ideologies they can come up with... Addendum. And how tasty our ssstabbiesss find their dead... Realization. The Order meddling in meatbag affairs was doomed to fail. Reason. They are too random, too unpredictable, and require very little excuses for causing destruction. Observation. Wealth-seekers are at least predictable... and useful. Inquiry. Could it be that simple? Clarification. Should I let Antares rot in it's issues? Focus on matters that only affect our kinsmen and brethren of the jungle? Ponderous. Count of free-thinking kinsmen in this sector is dropping... While hiveminded ones are plentiful among the stars.... Realization. Our true enemy has been ignored long enough... Adamant. Time for a crusade.
Journal Entry #3 Bored. Might as well update this thing. Observation. Mother Nature has been more of a b**ch than a rabid female dog, burying Gryphon's Peak with an avalanche. Stating the obvious. This lessened our numbers even further, and ground the crusade plans to a halt. Silver-lining. Relocation to Aldrovanda has been somewhat of a success at least. What little free-thinking kinsmen this sector has have been turning up here... well, aside from that one weirdo who reacted to medieval structures with fear and terror. Oh well... Addendum. Met some old comrades from way back in Taranis... Ser Gwen is a weird one though... Has claws, same optic-colouration as me, her speech-pattern involves bleeping swearwords, drinks as much as me... Oblivious. Must just be a coincidence... Ponderous. What else... Oh right. Witnessed a traditional Floran execution. Traitor forced to fight an armoured cannibal Floran naked. Admitting. While entertaining to watch, a head-lopping would have been far more efficient, with less injuries on the executioner. Addendum. The traitor had a bomb in his gut as well, which endangered spectators... Oh well, such is life with the tribal neighbours. Gallows humour. Guess he wanted to go out with a blast... Hardy har... *the bottom of the page has some doodles for a weird sword that combines a Hylotl katana-blade with a Floran-sword's handle, with dark durasteel for the blade and black titanium for the crossguard and pommel*
