About this Diary
I write this diary in the midst of a rebellion, where my comrades and myself have been labelled traitors to the prince of the country. As such I have left out or changed names of locations and people, so that if these diaries should fall into the wrong hands they will not aid to to the downfall of my party and the rebellion. Should we succeed and these diaries become rewritten in other languages, excuse the poor grammar in my hastily written recalling.
For all intents and purposes I will refer to myself as Leo the Transmuter. I was born eldest son and heir to a prestigious noble family in a keep on the northern planes. The family lines are divided between the wizards and the religious zealots.
My father is a tyrannical man, leading the family with an iron grip. My inclination towards magic, and his mistreatment of my sisters and mother, have always created great friction between us. As such I left home at a young age to go study at the citadel-like academy of magic, where all manner of creatures, races, factions and religions resided. My superiority created a vast gap and i did not commune with those bellow my station as is proper of one of my birth.
I trained under my master for on seven years now. Known as "The Quick-Fingered" wizard, he taught me the ins-and-outs of Alteration magic. Although, little did I get to know of him and his dark secrets.
After a recent and lengthy trip to retrieve magical tomes (with no success), I returned to find the Academy in ruins as if a large earthquake had ripped it and the surrounding canyons asunder. In the distance a forrest had grown in the place of where a mighty monolith once stood that was said to house the body of an ancient warrior. All around, Knights of the Bastion (as I will call these warrior-worshipers of the elder flame god of truth), gleamed in victory over what was at the time an unknown adversary to me. Fearing the worst from these magic-hating cretins I made haste to recover what I could from my master's tower. But, barely could I recover my master's grimoire before I was apprehended and catered off to meet the rising Warlord of the West.
It was an unexpected meeting. I had heard rumors of this man and his "rebellion" against our prince, but I had not assumed to meet him ( I will leave his description for a later stage ). He, to those gathered here, described what had transgressed here: Followers of the Prince and others sought to raise the monolith under the pretenses of freeing the ancient warrior entombed beneath. Instead what would be released was more frightening and far more evil though I do not completely understand what yet. During the knights of the bastion's efforts to stop this, the Academy was destroyed and the raising of the monolith was stopped, sinking it into the ground. It has also been revealed to me that my master was a traitor and killed by the warlord and his friends.
Now tasked by the Warlord of the West, we, the small party of myself, three knights and an annoying Elven priest, are to enter the ruins of my home in search of an ancient, Elven artifact. Who knows what we may find here as various factions decend upon this scared place to snatch up my precious treasures hidden in the rubble. The only reason I accept is the possibility of power and proving magic's might to these magic haters.