((By Nathaniel Hieber a youtube comenter)

Oh, how I miss my home of Trantio. The best city in all of Tilea, and that's saying a lot. Every street paved with marble, buildings made out of pink-veined Trantine, dwarfish craftsmanship making even the lowliest hovel a work of art and majesty. That's the home I wish to become the leader of. To do that, I would have had to raise my own army and build up enough wealth to oust the current Merchant Prince. It's been done before throughout Tilea, and I was going to be one more person to change their fate through sheer determination and skill. That's why I created the Pirates of Trantio, to take what should be mine and lead Trantio into a new golden age. I can see it now, in my mind's eye, how it would have turned out if things had been different. My plans, though, now lie in dust. That bastard Duke Bohemond has destroyed all of my aspirations, putting them to the torch with his self proclaimed "righteousness" and "chivalry". What does he know of such things, when he's fully willing to destroy rivals for no better reason than to fulfill someone else's petty grudges and for owning cities that the duke wants? I'm not talking about beastmen or greenskins, either. I'm talking about Marienburg and the dwarfs of Karak Ziflin. I have talked to former residents of those great cities, and they swear to me that the only crime they've committed is existing within striking distance of Bohemond. They were my allies, coming to my army with hopes of revenge against those who wronged them, and I am inclined to believe every word they've said after facing Duke Bohemond in battle. Looking back on it, it was less of a battle and more along the lines of a slaughter. I could only bring a little more than 1300 soldiers to bear against the Bretonnians, and that was only because my ranks were recently swelled with Marienburg soldiers who refused to bend the knee to Bohemond and those dwarfs who swore revenge against that high-born fool. Bohemond, though, somehow had the resources to field well over 3600 men. I could have retreated, but I was running low on funds to keep my cobbled together army in one piece. I needed to loot Montfort in order to continue advancing my goals, I had no other choice but to do this. It was an impossibly long shot, to be sure, but I had made it this far on at times little more than hope and determination. I thought maybe I could pull off another miracle, like how I did with evading Paravonese scouts to get to Bastonne. Obviously, that didn't happen. My brave soldiers were simply overwhelmed with a tide of filthy peasants (I mean that literally, some of them looked like they'd never had a bath in their lives). We put up one heck of a fight, though, as expected when I paid good gold for dwarfish arms, armor, and soldiers. The dwarfs under my command refused to budge an inch, letting loose destruction into their foes. Mercenaries and pirates that wouldn't have come here unless I paid them stood for a surprisingly long time against overwhelming odds. I personally took down twenty soldiers and fought Bohemond to near death, only being saved because, and I quote, "You aren't strong enough for me to kill you." He then flew off and proceeded to let his griffon gut more of my men. Apparently, that honor code of his doesn't apply to the beast he's riding on. I don't know what possessed me to not just loot Montfort and leave as soon as possible, but now I'm in even worse straits. During the battle, some of Bohemond's peasants travelled into my camp, took everything of value, and then burned what was left. Turns out that Bohemond had actually ordered this sort of thing, for like me, his treasury is also low and he needs gold. So he had other people do his dirty work for him and, if rumors are correct, had them flogged for doing things that would reflect badly upon their lord. It makes me sick that such puffed up hypocrites can somehow look down on people like me for little more than our birth, only to have other people do foul things for them because of some pretentious honor code made by a random wench from a lake. Now, I'm almost completely broke and leading the bare remnants of my once proud army. Those who remain are either those too loyal or too desperate to go anywhere except where I go. I'm broke, badly wounded, and leading a force that barely has enough strength to take on a village militia. Having no other option, I now journey back into Paravon. Hopefully, I can slip by the duke's defences once more and travel into Estallia and Tilea. Maybe me and my men could become mercenaries for a time, gradually regaining our wealth and prestige. As much as I dislike the idea, I have to do whatever I can to keep my dream alive and attend to those who rely upon me for their wellbeing. Hope, once more, is the only thing that sustains me. With any luck, that will be enough to keep me going and prove once again that nothing can keep down Montez Salucci! Last journal entry of Montez Salucci, leader of the Pirates of Trantio, before being killed by forces from Paravon.