Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2013 11:17:06 GMT -5
Some time had passed after the defeat of Aaron Hexenthal in Kullyr. Logen's use of the Ancient tongue surfaced an idea in that thick skull of his. There probably wasn't going to be an option to go home and his path and choices had deemed making a life on Arith was going to be his only option. He didn't have any qualms with the matter, finding a matter of content and happiness in the company he kept and the friends he had made. It was just the feeling of a lost soul so long from home that pushed him to make a record of himself. If he had the foul luck of being ripped from his world, then so would others.
He wanted to leave something behind. He wanted those he loved and the legacy he left behind to know his origins. And if someone else had his luck and was brought to this realm from his own, perhaps knowing that they weren't the first might help ease their mind. To show them that this great adventure was an opportunity and not a condemnation. For all that it's worth, as much as Logen missed home, he was determined on making a new one here on Arith.
On the first drop of ink to paper, Logen was sitting in the loft in the early morning of midwinter in the loft with Violeta asleep across the room in a tangled mess of their bedrolls. He was sitting next to the window which was covered by a blanket to shield out the cold and light, sans one opening. The given light was shown down upon the journal he had procured to allow him to see as he wrote in the Ancient language. He hadn't prepared himself for the day so the Northman had simply relaxed against the wall in the buff. He did take a blanket with him though, setting it over his shoulders to keep his core warm.
While Violeta slept, Logen wrote...
"I, Logen Wolfsbane, son of Thundershore, start this recording of my life with my name. Those of my native land, to whom the Empire refers to as Gaul, do not write the tongue of the Legion. I have chosen to use the language of the Empire so that only the educated may read so that there are no disputes as to what Ispeak to write in this book. I was born upon the Rhine on the first full moon of the Summer along with my brother Christoff Wolfsbane. We were honored, though my brother more so than I. His coming was heralded as a Champion among the Nation. I was more a confirmation to his arrival. We were treated as equals, though, until his First Change. After that, the Legend was hastened to be trained and prepared for his life to be..."
He wanted to leave something behind. He wanted those he loved and the legacy he left behind to know his origins. And if someone else had his luck and was brought to this realm from his own, perhaps knowing that they weren't the first might help ease their mind. To show them that this great adventure was an opportunity and not a condemnation. For all that it's worth, as much as Logen missed home, he was determined on making a new one here on Arith.
On the first drop of ink to paper, Logen was sitting in the loft in the early morning of midwinter in the loft with Violeta asleep across the room in a tangled mess of their bedrolls. He was sitting next to the window which was covered by a blanket to shield out the cold and light, sans one opening. The given light was shown down upon the journal he had procured to allow him to see as he wrote in the Ancient language. He hadn't prepared himself for the day so the Northman had simply relaxed against the wall in the buff. He did take a blanket with him though, setting it over his shoulders to keep his core warm.
While Violeta slept, Logen wrote...
"I, Logen Wolfsbane, son of Thundershore, start this recording of my life with my name. Those of my native land, to whom the Empire refers to as Gaul, do not write the tongue of the Legion. I have chosen to use the language of the Empire so that only the educated may read so that there are no disputes as to what I