Day 36, 6:42pm, Darkovia campaign

The rune trap was a huge success! It was far too amusing hearing them howl in pain. Am I happy now? I'll ask Iridonia later.

It was all too easy to lure the infernals in. We ordered a small unit of skirmishers to give their lines a good volley of arrows. Before long a horde of infernals could be seen chasing after our skirmishers down a long, winding path and into a large clearing in the trees. After they poured into the clearing, our magi activated the rune. I only wish I could've seen their faces one more time. To have the weapons their so proud of vanish in their hands. It was almost as hilarious as their vaporization inside the runic boundaries.

I'm told the fact that the light absorbed was celestial caused the explosion to multiply in force ten times over. Unfortunately, it didn't kill all of them. Though most left the vampire castle, a small group remained. We sent our forces in to clear up the remainder of their defense. My vampires lead my Doomknight battalion through the complex web of hallways as they fanned out and swept away the infernals token resistance.

I strolled into the throne room, satisfied with our victory. While in there,  I pondered the death of Safaria, queen of the vampires. Her death came as a shock to all. Werewolves had been plotting it for years but they could never get in close. Then the thirteenth Chaos lord attacked and they had their chance. It always was a true pity. I had hoped that Gravelyn would have annexed the vampires of Darkovia. I personally would have enjoyed capturing and taming the dracowerepyre. Sure it was a chaos beast, but so was Vordred. And boy did we vamp him up in power.

Iridonia entered in with the last of our troops. As if fate were waiting for a que, one of my vampires returned with grim news. Down in the dark of the crypts of Safaria's castle slept a true monster. As I had been told prior to the campaign, this monster was there when the Hero of Lore aided in the evacuation of Darkovia during the infernal invasion. Well, my scout informed me that it's still down in the crypt. The Hero didn't truly kill it. Of course not, that would too easy.

Monster is really the only accurate description. Black like the void, it's gargantuan body was pulsing with animalistic urges. Tentacles of shadow adorned the beast and two hallow, red eyes stared hungrily down at whatever it chose as its victim. That, at least, is how I view it. Iridonia just called it an abomination. Both descriptions are correct.

Though my soldiers had cornered it, none were idiotic enough to attack it. A cornered beast is three times as dangerous. Iridonia's soldiers, however... Sometimes I truly wonder if they're trying to be heroes, or they really are just that stupid. Two of them charged it pikes in hand. A single swipe knocked the pair off their feet. Pitiful.

Iridonia's squire proceeded to swear vengeance upon the monster and charge in.  The unholy creature lunged out and clamped him in its jaw. Panic engulfed the fool as he was shaken to and fro like a rag doll. I lept into the fray, intending to get him out. I wasted little time cutting the lower jaw off the monster. I do, after all, have a claymore the size of a man. I grabbed his breastplate and flung him back in our lines.

My actions did not go without consequences. The monster swiftly held me fast with its claws. I can still feel the weight of its strength. It started pulling me in all directions, simulating the same effects of being hung, drawn, and quartered. Armor was not made to guard against such an attack. Before the eyes of my troops and allies, I was torn to pieces and thrown to the floor.

Any fascination I had for the monstrosity was replaced with raw hatred. No one humiliates me so! Channelling the mana within me, I commence the process of dark, unholy regeneration. I couldn't do much at the moment though. Darkness always did take its time. So while I slowly reformed the ignorant paladins and Doomknights charged the beast.

It was a token gesture. This monster was beyond brute force. Only an elemental attack could hope to damage it. None of the soldiers who attacked had mastered their respective elements and therefore may as well have attacked wind. The ensuing battle was a flurry of swords and axes. No progress was made. Only the rapid drop in stamina. Just as my legs snapped into place, a howl sounded from the men: a casualty. I began hearing more and more of it. Snapping bones, rent steel, shattering of blades, cries of pain. I desperately wanted to intervene, but the dark magic enveloping my limbs had only just began reattaching my rib cage.

It was then that Iridonia personally stepped forward against the monster. She fought well. Despite only wielding a sabre, she swiftly and fluidly hacked away at each attacking tentacle. The grace and relative calm she expressed in her combat style made it seem more like dancing than fighting. Every spin, every parry, each perfect silver arc of her blade resembled the swordplay of a warrior long ascended above humanity. If she had been but a Doomknight, I might have fallen for her.

While she fought, the fools who had so rashly charged beat a hasty retreat under her protection. Five survived the ordeal. I did not count the dead. I never cared for paladins and I will not recognize a Doomknight who is so easily felled permanently.

Iridonia continued to fight on in a match of terrible lethal force. I found it odd that such a fine warrior would fail to strike a decisive blow. A tug in my head brought to my attention the true purpose of the High paladin. She fought with her sabre in her right hand, while in her left she formed a mighty ball of light. I recognized it well. It is an explosive magical attack that, for lack of better word, creates a holy black hole (Ha! I get it now).

The monster clawed and writhed, desperate to kill the holy woman who slashed it again and again. Hard pressed by the monster's aggressive assault, Iridonia hurried in throwing her spell into the heart of the ever shifting form of the monster.

I'll be completely honest when I say I had no idea what happened next. A blinding flash was all that greeted me as my head reattached to my torso. My vision did return to me. Indeed, it greeted me with a spectacle. Iridonia lying out cold beside a vaporized nothing. The men let out quite the cheer. Normally I would oppose them, but I had to give this woman credit. She killed it single handed. She earned a good rest.

I would not, however, allow any weakling get her back to camp. Only those who actually harmed that monster had that right. Although it would be proper to use a stretcher, I was the only one who caused any real damage besides Iridonia. So I picked up her up bridal style and carried her back to camp. It was odd, she was limp like a corpse. Every now and then along the trail I'd forget she was still alive. After leaving her in her tent, I was bombarded by outraged paladins about how I "would dare to touch a holy virgin in such an uncouth way" and how I "lacked all gentlemanly conduct".

Even now as I write this I fail to see the issue. She was a strong warrior who had proven herself in combat. As the warrior who had most closely achieved her feat, I was the only one who could have brought her back. It was the best way I could honor her skill and supremacy.

Now that Darkovia is secured, our mission is complete. I'll have to get all the paperwork done since Iridonia is unconscious.

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Day 36, 9:21pm, Darkovia campaign

This should be my last passage on Darkovia. Looking over the paperwork, I'm in for a political disaster. The job was completed off schedule. Worse, we took hefty casualties. I could pin this on Iridonia's initial ineptitude, but the head voting council in the alliance is majority Good. I doubt even the Lady Gravelyn's favor can spare my record. If I'm lucky, I'll be reassigned to Chaos hunting. If not, that fool Tabithurn will take the front. Sepulchure willing, I hope he dies before then.