Pages from Flint’s Journal, pt. 2 (Dark Prophecy fiction)
17
July, 2002
Pages from Flint’s Journal, pt. 2 (Dark Prophecy fiction)

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7/16

“The Black Rose has been stationed in the village of Kinship now for two days. The hospitality and generosity of the Ri and the townsfolk has far exceeded my expectations. I would have never imagined we would be given such a large building to use for the duration of our stay.

Melanie and Anmoch appear to have the supplies in order, and just about every currently active Rose is slowly but surely becoming involved.

I’m taking a small risk at assigning the Privates on these recon missions. I don’t know if I would have been so eager to when I was in direct command of the Recruits Division. However, Ben’s familiarity with the Lost Lands and Tarth’s experience in Destard does put me at enough ease to let it happen. I’ve just finished reading over Ben’s report. A bit wordy, but at least the kid’s thorough.

No new information available from Thorne yet, though I hope that changes tonight. I mean, there’s probably not much more he could tell us, but any little bit helps. I have a feeling we’ll eventually meet his brother, whose Council of Mages has co-funded the contract.

So far, we haven’t run into any further Drow conflict, though I can’t help but feel they’re still watching us, waiting for the right time to try and take another Rose’s life. Two Roses lost to them in the past is two too many.

Jalyn came by briefly this eve, and gave me the oddest lute I have ever seen. It seemed to glow with enchantment. The runes on the back of it, according to Jalyn, translate to read “Dragonsong.” I imagine Leedja may be able to make use of this against the Cold Blood.

Kinship tavern’s been a… colorful place. Can’t remember when I’ve seen a more diverse gathering of people. From a man with a talking imp to a tolerated practitioner of dark arts to a kindly barkeep named Alice who likes to bake pies. And I’m sure this is only the beginning.

On a final note, the Undead of Necropolis came by last night searching for some sort of weapon and information regarding it. Oddly enough, they were all talk, and didn’t attempt to attack us. Considering the rules of Kinship, I was grateful they hadn’t. The last thing I wanted to do was get their tavern all wrecked in a melee.

Fidgit’s been seen as well. Does that orc have nothing better to do? Admittedly, he can be a bit comical at times but he’s equally dangerous, and it usually is not long after he’s spotted that an orc raid occurs.

It appears our return to our homelands has not gone unnoticed, and we will have to be as alert as ever before as we attempt to vanquish the Ilshenari warlords.”

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It was a long night, and Thomas was ready to get what few hours of sleep he could. Wednesday would be busy enough, but the following day he planned to spend with his fiance and their child.

He settled into the recently placed bed at HQ, and just as his eyes began to grow heavy, welcoming the rest ahead of them, a buzzing sounded in his ear.

A Rose had been injured.

A quick check of his comm crystal links caused his heart to sink and guilt to flood his being.

Private Tarth Bleddyn was down, and apparently in Vesper. Either Thomas overestimated Tarth, or underestimated his old rival, Fang… better known to others as the Rikktor.

Sergeant Thomas Flint of the Nighthawks quickly bolted from HQ, geared up as best as possible, and quickly made his way to the rune library.

“I’ll be damned if Fang takes one of my men…”

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