The Lost Journal (Senghor Vilhjalmr)

by **Verilian** on July 19th, 2013, 7:59 pm

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Vilhjalmr: The Lost Journal

Timestamp: 35th of Summer, 513 AV

The canals were buzzing with excitement as people made their way toward the Nitrozian plaza. It was another day of executions, two Rising Dawn members were being put to death, and as always it was a perfect opportunity for merchants to shout their wares, performers to strut their stuff, and thieves to pick the distracted pockets of the onlookers, all awaiting the demise of the two terrorists. Even if a person wasn't interested in the killings themselves, it was still worth going to see the show.

On the small stage that had been erected in the center of the plaza the two men were bound to poles, stripped of their clothing, their possessions, and whatever honor they believed they had. They were pelted with bread, fruits, and raw fish as the people tossed their spoiled goods at the monsters, for to the Ravokians gathered to witness the spectacle, that is what these two men were. On stage, dodging the occasional food item thrown at the prisoners, were a small group of acrobats, showing off their skill in hopes for a few Mizas. The execution itself was only a bell away.

Xerin was in a particularly good mood that day, the old man along with his body guard was busy chatting up an attractive young lady about the upcoming festivities. The lady, though she had no idea who he actually was, seemed more than happy to speak with the clearly wealthy Ravokian. What they were talking about was of no real import, just passing the time, but even in the midst of his conversation Xerin's eyes roamed the crowd, searching for anyone else of more interest than the young lady. Beautiful as she was, the old man was not in need of her companionship that day. More likely she would go home with his guard when the executions were over.

The performers on stage continued their show. The old man continued to talk. Merchants continued to shout their wares. And things continued to progress as normal. All in all, it seemed as if nothing more interesting than an execution would happen that day.

OOC :

by **Senghor Vilhjalmr** on July 20th, 2013, 10:56 am

If death could speak, than it would sing with the collected sounds of cheers and curses, if it could walk than it'd be the footsteps of the patrons of Ravok that embodied its every ghastly stride, if could see than through the eyes of the hundreds gathered there at the plaza would tears of joy stream gingerly from its abyssal globes.

As his lips parted an eased flow of breath left them, his golden brown globes did nothing but watch the movements of Ravok's people, people or animals it held no difference to him because what he saw here was what happened everywhere else, an execution, one soon to commence it seemed.

Senghor's daunting gaze never lost its coiled visage as his golden brown eyes were lost in the festival's throes, he watched with an intrigued glare that somewhat turned cold, dead but stern and vigilant.

As his eyes trailed throughout the crowd, the desert skinned man's stomach spoke otherwise to him as it alerted him of hunger, not the deadly kind but one that needed to be put to rest, as he felt it knock at his door begging to be sated he grumbled and looked around, for a merchant or a general items store.

An uncomfortable weight seemed to anchor upon his left shoulder as the strap of his duffel bag kept digging into his flesh, even as his shirt allowed for a subtle cushion, both materials engaged in a struggle it seemed. It caused Senghor too shrug, bringing his right arm over to the diagonal strap and moving it a bit off the raw flesh, he felt his necklace bounce off his chest momentarily before pushing the bag behind him with left arms elbow.

To reassure him of her presence, his sheathed longsword dug into the back curve of his ribs for a second as he adjusted his baggage, it wasn't heavy yet keeping it slung over one particular shoulder for so long since morning held its consequences one he was now beginning to know.

His sheathed blade peaked playfully over his right shoulder as he looked around, his palm closed over the strap to pull onto it so his skin could breath, he seemed like he knew where he was going as he dove into the crowd and began working towards a vendor at the opposite right quarter of the expanding crowd his eyes had seen some fruits laying there and making a killing, pelting terrorists seemed to have its perks for the vendor as coin kept flooding in for more.

'Better not be rotten...'thought the traveler as moved through the crowd, tightly packed bodies obstructed him it seemed and this farther caused him to swear beneath his breath lowly as a rising boil of rage began to taste the fires surrounding its pot.

Senghor was surprised, the people there were quite short compared to his stature even though some others did at least reach his shoulders length but from afar, one could see the tall man coming. Though tall, his movement within the tight crowd was afloat, graceful and eased, with each shove forward he merely seemed to get closer to the vendor, another couple more and his body burst out from the people as if he was conceived once again.

Relieve strung through beautifully from his sigh as he strode towards the merchant and looked through his wares, a light snack would truly be something worth his 'hunger' it seemed. He looked at the vendor with a stern gaze, though golden and somewhat piercing, his eyes stuck through the soul like ethereal javelins of intimidation.

"How much for the apples" Senghor asked with a thick voice, mature and born from a loin's proud roar, the merchant merely smiled as he looked up a the desert skinned one with an knowing feature of knowledge, it was than that the two began to barter....

by **Verilian** on August 6th, 2013, 4:26 pm

As Senghor made his way through the crowd, his larger than average stature made him easy to spot for anyone who was looking, and as it just so happened, Xerin was casually scanning the crowd just as Seng walked by. Surprised, the old man followed him, leaving the young lady by herself. When Seng attempted to purchase the apple, Xerin intervened.

"Allow me to get that."

Xerin placed a few golden mizas on the counter, far more than a potentially rotten apple was worth, and slid it to the merchant who happily accepted the gold rimmed stones and handed Seng a rather fresh looking apple. Meanwhile, the prisoners were being dragged out onto the stage. An agent of the Black Sun began reading off their plans, while a masked executioner stood intimidatingly behind him. A horse was brought up as well, something rarely seen in the city proper. It was one of the mighty Ravok Bloodbanes, a horse bred especially for the Ebonstryfe. The prisoners were to be racked, stretched by the horse after it was tied to their legs and then devoured alive, all before the gleeful eyes of the populace. Xerin didn't even bother to give the stage a second glance, he'd seen it all before.

"What's a few mizas for an apple between old friends, am I right?"

It was then that Xerin would get a better look at Seng's face and surprise would register on the old man's. It took him a moment to recover, but he did soon enough, regaining his composure and smoothing his garments, as if they had been ruffled by the realization that he had been mistaken.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I mistook you for someone else.. an old friend, actually. You look startlingly similar to him."

by **Senghor Vilhjalmr** on August 10th, 2013, 9:12 pm

As Senghor fingers dug playfully into his pouch for some Mizas to pay the merchant, he heard the rustle of clothing, presumably the expensive kind at the a distance yet he didn't take note of it, what he did note too were the gold rimmed Mizas falling onto the counter in his stead, and from there a voice aimed at his direction.

"Allow me to get that"elderly was the voice as it bounced off the walls of Senghor's ears, the young man inclined his gaze towards the figure who'd spoken, who'd even paid for his apple, his apple!

Letting his eyes sharply dart towards the merchant who pulled out a fresher looking fruit he frowned at the actions of the person before him, as the apple fell easily into his hand the merchant smiled slyly Senghor abruptly shook his head and spoke lowly.

"An I thought Sunberth was bad..." he said whilst turning towards the elegantly attired figure, his brow raised with a certain curiosity as his ears picked up the sound of nays, a horse the Vilhjalmr thought was rubbing the apple off his shirt before taking a bite out of it.

Senghor, had never even thanked the strange man for his kind act yet as he turned his head towards death's kind and cruel stage he could already see what was going to happen, an act of splitting one, into two.

`Gotta admit, these guys know how to execute...`chimed in his subconscious as Senghor's attention was taken aback by the old man's speaking.

"What's a few mizas for an apple between old friends, am I right?"said the man as if he knew the young Vilhjalmr, this caused the lad's features to stiffen as the man looked over Senghor with knowing eyes.

The tone of the man's voice quickly dropped as Senghor began searching the archives of his head, for something until it hit him, like a torrent of water did only the son of the late Vilhjalmr realise whom this figure was talking about. Yet, who was to be sure for the last person Senghor had met, knew the late one... His father.

"Oh, sorry. I mistook you for someone else... an old friend, actually. You look startlingly similar to him"said the man, this in turn caused Senghor to ball his palm into a unstable fist.

'No... You're not mistaken, I know of whom you speak of. Yet I cannot be sure...'Senghor said internally to himself, as he looked at the man fix his attire from the corner of his eye, his stiff lips parted slightly as one word escaped from them, he knew that he word wasn't to be utter under an circumstance for this was a forgotten name amongst many, No... It wasn't forgotten for almost all did not know of it, this was the name of a deceased father, a forgotten entity in the world around them.

"Cagn?..." Senghor asked, low enough to be heard by the old man...

by **Verilian** on September 11th, 2013, 4:59 pm

On the stage the prisoner was tied to the horse by the legs, his arms tied to a pole on the stage. The horse was egged slowly forward by it's handler, pulling the man taut. A feel more steps and his elbows and knees began to redden, before dislocating with a distinct popping sound. The torture wasn't done, of course. That was just the beginning, and it was a message to all who would betray Ravok.

Meanwhile, the old man was nodding his head eagerly. He remembered the name, and the man who went with it. It was a name from long ago, in a time when the man was much younger. It was a dangerous name, one that he would never forget. The fact that this man knew him.. and bore his likeness, it was not something Xerin could ignore.

"Yes, Cagn, that's who I thought you were. By Rhysol, you're the spitting image of the man. If I had to wager a guess, I'd say you were his son. Too young to be a brother, if he even had a brother. A son, or perhaps a grandson. Surely from his line."

Xerin's eyes cast about, and suddenly he grew wary. From what Senghor could tell, there was nobody watching them, but suddenly the old man seemed paranoid. He took a step closer to Seng, conveniently at the same moment somebody passed very near him to make it look like he had been bumped towards Seng by the person passing by. Deftly the man slipped something in Seng's pocket before making a mock recovery, stepping back and straightening his clothing once more.

"Sorry about that, some people just don't know how to watch where they are going. And speaking of that, I must be going now too."

Xerin departed without so much as a goodbye, his guards quickly joining him and left the scene of the execution. If Seng stayed to watch, the man would eventually be strained so hard that his arms ripped from his body, and then the flesh eating horse was set loose on him to devour him while he was still alive. The man's cries filled the area, along with the cheers of the crowd. If Seng checked his pocket he would find a folded parchment, inside with only three words: Galatos Manor. Tonight.

by **Senghor Vilhjalmr** on September 21st, 2013, 8:31 pm

Senghor listened for what little information about his father the man had to share, and strangely it was all utter garbage at that moment for there was nothing worth taking to attention too. The older man beside the young Vilhjalmr was speaking yet wasn't truly talking it seemed to Seng, this caused him to incline his head and look up slightly, he sniffed the stale air of mixed 'fragrances', unknowingly he'd mimicked an action Cagn used to do whenever he felt an air of distress around him, yet more so it seemed that when Senghor was a boy he'd taken up his father's strange style whenever he saw him do it in the wildlands, training and teaching the young boy in a multitude of things.

Returning his head towards the older man not to seem unattentive, Seng's features hardened slowly as he did his own investigation, his golden-brown fiery pools of captivating eyes looked over every detail of the man to observe anything worth noting. From what Senghor could make up, the man before him was wealthy, powerful in his stride yet it was his eyes to seemed to hold many secrets, none to which Seng could comprehend at the time.

As Seng's hand snaked it's way up towards, not his sheathed blade but the strap of his duffel bag, he adjusted it for a little comfortablity, his eyes never losing attention to detail as he looked up and gazed at the guards the man had at his side and truly they were experienced, they would prove to be more than an adversary to any untrained warrior willing to challenge even just one of them.

Senghor couldn't decipher anything else at that moment yet was he looked at the man, tried to make out the gap of age between his father, Cagn and the man before him and indeed he could see that it was a lengthy one for Cagn was a decade his senior if not marginally younger.

A sigh slipped from the young desert adorned warrior as he let the last of the man's words slip from him, yet suddenly he saw a shift in his stead, Seng was observant at that moment and saw a stage of unease oozing from the old man and this caused the young soul to sharply incline his head and gaze at the crowd.

His eyes trailed over the heads he easily towered over and strangely he found nothing strange or out of place with them, they cheered on death like the zealous patrons they were, this brought a sensation of alertness to Seng as he felt a figure pass and the man nudge and bump into him.

As the man's words registered into the ears of the young Vilhjalmr, it'd seemed to late for him to even react, to even hold down the older man and shake him down for answers about his father, and possibly his mother if the old man even knew of her.

'If they paid you, he'd be still intact for that execution, Haha!'mocked his subconscious as he gazed at the execution with a feeling of emptiness. After a moment of what seemed like a span of hours yet only minutes, Senghor left the scene with a feeling of extra weight on him as well.

'Strange...' he thought as he walked through an alley, his hand slipped into his pocket and something met his flesh, his fingers held onto the parchment and took it out.

"Strange indeed..." he said with seldom tone of intrigue, as he left the alley Senghor's footsteps began to lead him towards the Galatos Manor...

by **Verilian** on September 25th, 2013, 2:13 pm

When Seng reached the manor things seemed out of sorts. People were hustling about in a more hurried than normal manner, a number were shouting orders to clean up that mess, or throw away this, and the guards all appeared on high alert. His approach was noted probably long before he ever reached the manner. If he was especially observant he might notice the telltale signs of being followed, though he would never actually see anyone on his trail. When he approached the manor himself the guards blocked his path.

"Halt! State your business or be gone!"

Presumably, Senghor would tell them he had been invited, or something of the sorts. This would spark a silent debate between the two guards, who then called over a servant to verify the invitation. Until the servant returned, Seng was barred from entry. They stood there in awkward silence for several chimes before the servant finally returned. After a quick word with the guards, they relaxed and moved out of the way.

"Welcome to Galatos manor. Follow me and I'll take you to Xerin."

Seng was led through the manor towards the back of the building. It was beautifully furnished, adorned with rich finery befitting a family if great wealth. It was said that the Galatos family once rivaled the power and wealth of the Nitrozians, but much of that was lost. What Seng saw were the ghosts of a time passed. The current perception of the Galatos family was one of mystery and deception, though they still put on the face of simple businessmen.

Xerin was waiting in a parlor near the back or the manor. After the servant announced Seng, they were quickly left alone. Xerin offered Seng a drink, the glass was already poured with a dark red wine, before taking a seat in one of the easy chairs.

"Do forgive the mess. Seems we had a robbery. Makes me wonder what I pay my guards for if they can't keep out simple thieves. You needn't concern yourself with that right now, however. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Xerin Galatos, head of the Galatos family. And you are the son of Cagn Vilhjalmr. I assume you have a name of your own?"

The man waited for Seng to introduce himself before continuing with his next question.

"Tell me. What do you know of your family, your bloodline? Not just your parents, but your ancestors?"

by **Senghor Vilhjalmr** on September 29th, 2013, 11:38 pm

As Senghor walked through the streets of Ravok with a easily composed stride, he let his footsteps fall so that they didn't echo yet it seemed they always did but at a drawn distance, the corners of his lips tugged in a morbid frown as he raised his arm to brush at the hilt of his longsword, interestingly enough the sound ceased and this caused a somewhat hoarse hum thought slip from his lips.

His arm dropped and he fell to his side with his inclining head to see if he could even make out a figure at the corner of his eye, 'Damnit... Nothing' spat angrily were his thoughts as he raised his gaze to be met with the Galatos manor and all it's splendor, and obviously 'the muscle' keeping guard.

"Halt! State your business or be gone!" the easily predictable guards chimed, this in turn caused Senghor to thread into his pocket and take out the parchment, with a sullen gaze he spoke with a ghastly winters grasp laced about his tongue.

"Special invitation, tell your master I'm here" Senghor spoke as he flicked the object in the guards direction, Seng did so ever hate figures of oppression and authority, yet another of his hates was scum acting as if he was nothing below vermin and that's what it looked like, he could see it in their eyes as his sandy desert eyes fell dead instantly.

Murmurs soon filled the air between the guards causing Seng to grow justly impatient, no soon after was a servant called and another orchestra of murmurs floated in the air before the servant left, to return with the obvious. An than silence gripped the hearts of and minds of the world, the lake upon which sat graciously upon let its dark waters attain a still atrocity of awkward ease, the faintest of noises as breath left the nostrils of men seemed like the thunderous drums of ritual that covered the atmosphere, usurped with a brazen quiet were the next chimes.

And salvation from the feminine silence came from behind the two guards as the servant returned to them, once more the slowly building instrumental of murmurs filled the halls of space between them in the form of a quick word, and finally the climax of their struggle, acceptability that the young man before them had won.

"Welcome to Galatos manor. Follow me and I'll take you to Xerin" said the servant, and with the parting sea of defeat Senghor was led towards the back of the building.

His eyes ever so quickly darted to capture the revere of the ghostly home, indeed it held such beauty in the respective sense of being a manor yet it seemed somewhat like his own home, it the walls were bathed in blood none could see and the haunting screams still reaped through the home. Yet what truly grasped the young man who'd composed himself in a aggressive stride, similar to that of his father Cagn, was that the home had a similar tact to his childhood home.

He brushed off those thoughts as his eyes focused forward to see the older man, Xerin waiting by this homes parlor, and an announcement rang from the servant causing Seng to let out a low sigh, shortly after did the young warrior find himself alone with the old man, the young male eyed the wine on the table suspiciously and didn't even bother with it. Observation was key.

"Do forgive the mess. Seems we had a robbery. Makes me wonder what I pay my guards for if they can't keep out simple thieves. You needn't concern yourself with that right now, however, allow me to introduce myself. I am Xerin Galatos, head of the Galatos family. And you are the son of Cagn Vilhjalmr. I assume you have a name of your own?" asked the older man, yet through that man's talking Senghor wondered something, he spoke of the robbery and said it didn't concern him at that moment, he heard his subconscious cackle as it said it'd never concern Seng.

"Senghor..." the young man uttered low enough to be heard, Senghor seemed to restrain himself from grasping his sword and cutting the man's throat out to know how he knew his father, he knew how hard it was just to get a simple piece of information, even an insignificant ounce like where his father may have walked was impossible to attain.

Yet he wouldn't, not this time because last time it involved bodies and blood, he learnt his session with 'people' like Eridanus whom also knew his old man that information on Cagn Vilhjalmr was sacred amongst them.

"Tell me. What do you know of your family, your bloodline? Not just your parents, but your ancestors?" asked the man, this somewhat stunned Senghor for he knew literally nothing about his parents, he came here with the notion that his questions would be answered.

A hum danced within his subconscious before he replied, making sure not to reveal all that he knew, this was a delicate subject, "I know close to nothing about my bloodline, my father and mother told me nothing of their past expect the stories of when they met. Vague as they were I do believe they kept it that way not to shed light on what they did, yet...

I do know that the name of my father weights more than just that of a average man" a pause before he continued, for this was like throwing a miza in a room of nobles and only on peasant hoping it'll land with him whilst blindfolded, "I've heard of my grandfather, Asad Vilhjalmr, a traveler my father said... Besides that, the only other name I know is Nassor, who's just a name to me" said Senghor as he neared the man, standing beside him...

by **Senghor Vilhjalmr** on December 31st, 2013, 4:27 pm

Xerin listened to the boy and and quirked a brow when his mentioned names of Asad and Nassor, to him those names meant that the boy was the son of Cagn, he had his looks, his height and from deep within the golden brown pools of his eyes, that beastly ferocity that the dark skinned mad once had.

Yet when he spoke of Cagn, he was surprised the boy didn't mention his mother, not even her name, he did find it quite odd yet with her, names came and went around just as much as a Ravokian slave.

It was perplexing for Xerin, after so many years of life and so many secrets where kept from the boy before him, it was somewhat amusing that 'She' and Cagn could pull it off, even better was that went they met he was using his very own fathers name, Asad yet Nassor, that was before the three men's time. Had truly Cagn delved so deep into his ancestry and dared tell his son about one of their predecessors, even so why would the young man forget what his father had told him.

It was than that Xerin spoke whilst looking around, his words would soon shake the young Vilhjalmr to the core.

"Do you know why we were robbed?" the old man asked Xerin as he took slightly amusement in the odd look Seng gave him, "Believe it or not, I believe it was because of this..." Xerin said as he turned to one of the guards who took out and presented... A book?, it looked old, weathered and truly lost to time and its secrets.

When it placed down on the table, Xerin had the courtesy to delicately slide it over towards Senghor who looked at it before speaking, a slight tone of amusement in tone.

"A book... Haha... You're kidding me right?" he asked as he looked up at the old man, Xerin's features slightly changed for a moment and Seng sensed the change in the atmosphere.

"That very book right there Senghor, it has secrets, knowledge far older than myself, far older than you and that book that very book belonged to none other than Cagn... You father," it'd seemed that not only the mood had changed at that moment but Seng's very own perception of things, he shuddered in seat with fear and pain and confusion.

His heart beat violently like thundering drums played at the tip of the highest mountain during the loudest storm, his core shook angrily as if an earthquake during a war. The pupils of his eyes dilated as his dried, his understanding of things ceased as he looked up at Xerin, who so kindly had the courtesy to speak.

"And now, after all this trouble I pass it on to you..." he said causing Senghor to finally stir, his arm slowly raised and he looked down at the leather bound cover of the book, so bland and old, even lost to some of its color.

"Now my young friend, I must bid you goodbye and I hope you find whatever it is you seek" Xerin finished the conservation, with a wave of a hand Senghor found himself at mercy of the massive grips of two guards on his shoulders.

"Hey... Let Go!... Hey!, what's in this book!?... What'd you know about my... Father!!?, What'd you... Hey Damnit let go of ME!.. Hey!!" by the time Senghor uttered his last words, he found himself at the gates of the Galatos Manor once again.

He grunted and shrugged off the grip of the bastards who'd gripped him, at least with Senghor entered that place he had nothing, yet now he had something that would explain it all.

He walked around for a while spitting swears until he found a crate, boiling with rage as he was he still composed himself well enough to sit down and think.

Pondering for what seemed like forever, battling with his subconscious about what would he find and what he wouldn't caused a stir in him. He sat there, calmed himself and held the book in one hand while the other opened it, he could believe that his hand trembling in fear and excitement...

An the cover flipped over in his hand, his eyes met with scribbled nonsense, the scribbling went down in a next order, each taking a new form, written in different colors, text and words.

They filled the page with four neat rows, it was than that Seng turned the page, his eyes met with another set of neat scribbles going down the line...

"Signatures..." he uttered in advanced as he trailed his inquisitive finger over all the names, so many, so many names... All of them, family.

He turned his gaze to the next page page and watched another neat line fall, yet this one stopped at the halfway through and Seng leaned in closer to gaze at the name, the signature... Cagn!, scribbled there in writing he knew all to well, he'd seen it, grew with this writing, it was his fathers...

Above it, was scribbled what he could only interpret as the name Asad, he looked up and saw more names, Akir, Camaron, K'avar, Ennis, names, names of people who shared his blood!... All these men, all of them were there... He finally had a link to his past, finally all would be answered.

When Senghor turned the page and nested between that page and the other was a folded paper, it was folded in a intricate manner that Seng found familiar.

'Argh, I'll get to that later, Senghor turned the page and as if an arrow pierced through his heart, the language seemed foreign, ancient, old, he turned the pages and was met with the same thing, more and more ancient writing, ancient tongue.

"The hell?..." he questioned as he page through more, pages, the bulk of the book allowed for him finally met something he knew a language he understand

by **Senghor Vilhjalmr** on December 31st, 2013, 5:15 pm

"... For two nights, I sat in the forest and heard the wails of my hunt, my pray, it was there just waiting for me, waiting to fight..." Seng read out loud as he kept reading more, whoever this predecessor was he was in the forest, most probably in the Wildlands hunting something, something he knew he could seek a great fortune for...

"Petch, what is this... A journal, a diary!?" he asked he turned to another page and saw a sketch, the concept was intriguing at best because it looked deadly and powerful to him, he read some more and read how to dip in this special poison and such...

"Ideas?... What kind of journal is this?" he questioned as he kept paging through, the pages seemed never ending, writings, drawings, philosophies yet something felt off, for every page he turned it seemed another was torn off, some pages disappeared in bulk!

'Why?... Had whoever wanted the book stolen them, or had Galatos taken them out?!' he inquired as he sighed, he didn't want to close the book in fear that it was a dream but he did, he sat back and his head touched the wall.

"What's going on?... None of this makes sense!, All this bull, writings... Damnit!" he asked as he banged his head upon the wall slightly as if answers would come, it was than that he looked down and remembered the letter tucked inside the book.

He quickly opened the book and turned the first pages until he found what he was looking for, he closed the book and held the letter in his hands for what seemed like eternity, than slowly he began to unravel it and when it was laid out before him, what it read stirred him at the core :

To my son...

Senghor, by now you've grown, you've learnt and soon you will understand. All that I've taught you is but a fraction of what you will teach yourself... I left this book with an old find, knowing that one day you will find it, or it will find you...

I wrote this when you were still within your mothers womb knowing that you will read this as a man, your mother and I have probably left to many things unsaid but know it was only to protect you...

This letter is only tell you that in time, all these things will come together, in time you will learn the truth and that is why I've ripped the pages from our family journal and scattered them through the entire land.

I trust, and I know that in time you will find them...

Your father... Cagn

Senghor couldn't believe it, after all these years, after so long... Still more cryptic knowledge, still more of riddles and codes!?.

"Bull!, all of it... I'm tired of all this, secrets, and only secrets within secrets!... What do I look like to them, some dog!?" Seng roared in rage and confusion as he threw down the book!, Damnit, Damnit all he thought as he stood up...

He turned and kicked the crate he'd sat on and let swears spit from his lips like fire. He turned and looked down at that blasted book, full of what, mostly garbage he thought.

Seng raised his leg and brought it down onto the ancient book, yet before he something in him caused him to stop, he couldn't do it... After so many years of asking and pleading for answers, the only thing that brought him a bit closer too knowledge was going to be trampled?... No.

In a disgruntled sigh, Senghor retracted his leg and knelt down, he began picked it up and held it in his hands, another sigh slipped from his lips as he turned and looked around, eyes quickly falling towards on of Xerin's servants, she ran towards him with his duffel bag and handed to the Vilhjalmr only to quickly high tail it without a word.

He was so occupied that he forgot his bag there, huh... At least that old man had the courtesy to bring it back even though not in person. Senghor took the bag and opened it, checking to see if nothing was missing, huh... Rich and humble, thought Seng as he took the book and placed it inside, the letting hadn't fallen far from Seng so he simply reached out and took it, folding it to put it in his bag.

When he stood up, his gaze turned towards the direction of the Galatos manor and Senghor could only wonder about what that old man really knew about Seng, about his father, about his ancestry...

'Maybe one day... I'll know' he thought as he slung his bag over his shoulder and strode towards the nearest place to rest, heavens knew that he needed the rest...

Quest The Lost Journal (Senghor Vilhjalmr)