Herbal Grove

111^th of Hunter’s Moon, 719

My hands are cold, and I find writing to be more difficult, but I must chronicle my meeting with Jofridus.

We came upon the cathedral at dusk, and said our farewells.  Holger was very calm for someone who was about to meet his fate.  When and how we will die is a question that looms over us from birth, and perhaps finally having the answer was liberating for him.  It certainly was for me.

I hid in a nearby wood and watched him make his slow way to the cathedral steps.  He looked over his shoulder at me only once, and smiled.  As hard as it was for me to pity his soon-to-be victims, I had to pity the man as well.  He was kind, good and just.  And this world took those from him and more. 

As soon as the sun dipped out of view, I heard an unholy growl, followed by screams and shouts of orders.  I watched the ground guards rush to the cathedral, and I knew this was my chance.  

With my newly-acquired armor, I passed for just another cathar on his way to securing this holiest of holy grounds.   I found my way to the ash garden, to the stones Reika’s journal had described.  Underneath, the tunnel stretched away into the darkness.

At the end of path was a huge, natural cavern.  I could hear the waterfall, and the air was thick with mist.  Standing in the center of the chamber, next to a rune-carved altar, was Jofridus.

He was alone, and apparently expecting me.  The sword was nowhere in sight, although I would be reunited with it soon enough. 

“I knew you would return, my son.  I have been preparing for it.”

My anger had reached its boiling point.  Calling me his son had ignited a fury inside me, and I drew my sword and charged him.  Nothing could stop me now, no force could keep me from my purpose – none save a familiar voice uttering a single word.

“Raben?”