### Sub Headings - Journal for GrimLeagueS07
tagGDLSubHeading_Vault=The Forbidden Vault

### Lore Notes
##### Margraves
#The Loss
tagGDLLoreNote_Margraves1Name=Margraves' Diary, Page 2
tagGDLLoreNote_Margraves1Text=The Loss{^n}{^n}She's gone. My wife, my love, mother to our newborn - dead.{^n}{^n}There is something strange about being alone.{^n}{^n}Sometimes I forget - a moment of blissful ignorance - I ask her a question, or make a silly comment, and expect her laugh, or a nudge on the arm. The questions hang in the musty air, and I wander our library alone. My library alone. It is much larger now, and I do not dare touch her half-written notes on Botany, the elegant writing is an art in itself. Her books are covered in dust but I cannot move them.{^n}{^n}The human brain is a silly little object - we trick ourselves, we play pretend - she is simply away for a while, I say. The silence agrees. She will be back, I think to myself.{^n}{^n}But I am not stupid, I know my little games can only provide me comfort for so long.{^n}I have sent Violet away with her wet nurse.{^n}They are to stay at the citadel, so I can have some peace and quiet. I have no time to play babysitter. There is work to be done. 

#The Obsession
tagGDLLoreNote_Margraves2Name=Margraves' Diary, Page 31
tagGDLLoreNote_Margraves2Text=The Obsession{^n}{^n}I have scored through all my notes, detailing human anatomy and the resurrection of a lost soul. I have poured through all the tomes of alchemy from ages past, I have sent scores of letters to mages and wizards and scientists - hell, even the magistrates.{^n}{^n}Nothing. No one can give me an answer. They're all useless.{^n}{^n}Occasionally, I leave my room for some reprieve.{^n}{^n}Often, I receive letters from our wet nurse regarding baby Violet's health.{^n}{^n}She is doing wonderfully, they say. She is beautiful, just like her mother. And she's bright - just like you! She's a real handful, even at one years old. You should visit her.{^n}{^n}The last words fill me with guilt. I remember visiting Violet for her first birthday, and at dinner, she was so quiet - staring at me with such curious, dark eyes, wondering who this stranger in front of her was.{^n}{^n}It is tradition in the Margraves family to receive a stone imbued with certain powers of magick on one's first birthday. I call out to Violet. The wet nurse carries her over, but Violet squirms from her grip.{^n}{^n}The wet nurse sighs, and gently lays her on the timber floors. Violet is apprehensive, but crawls slowly towards me.{^n}I crouch beside her, and fish some string from my pockets. Her stare is curious, unnerving - but I clumsily fashion a necklace with the small magic stone and place it around her neck. The stone pulses with warmth and Violet giggles. For the first time tonight, she smiles.{^n}{^n}I recall attempting to say something, but my mind is filled with thoughts of Malenia.{^n}{^n}I swallow my words, nod at the wet nurse, and leave. I don't dare to look at Violet.{^n}Malenia was always better at this, and we need her back. 

#The Discovery
tagGDLLoreNote_Margraves3Name=Margraves' Diary, Page 97
tagGDLLoreNote_Margraves3Text=The Discovery{^n}{^n}At last! At last.{^n}{^n}I've found it - hidden deep below the Asterkarn Mountains, beyond the mortal realm.{^n}{^n}But I am no longer human, of blood and bone - corruptible, weak-willed, impressionable lumps of flesh.{^n}{^n}To be mortal is to feel - to feel loss and pain and anger.{^n}{^n}I have read over a thousand tomes. I have searched across the lands - I have read translations, definitions, interpretations, clues, cures to these ailments, but my heart continues to beat a bitter rhythm.{^n}{^n}I was ashamed of my lack of control. My emotions betrayed me, and every day I was reminded of my own incompetence, of being bound to some fate composed by some God, directed by Death. Such is to be human. An insignificant drop of blood, fodder in their chess game.{^n}{^n}But not anymore. Now I control the pawns. I can make the puppets dance and sing.{^n}And dance they will, to the tune of Torment.{^n}{^n}The last thing I remember is reaching out, fingers brushing the realm, the sheer energy prickling my skin. All thoughts disappear, scattering into the darkness. There is a buzz in the air, and splotches of light flicker around me - dancing, taunting.{^n}{^n}As I stumble frantically towards the rift, something clinks against my sword hilt - a talisman - the family crest electric blue among the luminescence.{^n}And I remember something - I had a wife, and I have a young daughter. But it feels like so long ago, and their names escape me.{^n}I was Harold Margraves, once upon a time. 

#The Peakmanes
tagGDLLoreNote_Margraves4Name=Margraves' Diary, Page 61
tagGDLLoreNote_Margraves4Text=The Peakmanes{^n}{^n}The journey to the Peakmane tribes has been treacherous. I've traveled for days through the dense forest and steep mountain passes, and the only thing that keeps me going is the hope that I'll find what I'm looking for. I've heard stories of the Peakmanes, a tribe of fierce warriors who once defended their homeland against the Arkovians. But now, they're scattered and broken, their way of life destroyed by war.{^n}{^n}I've come here seeking their knowledge, for I've heard rumors that they possess a power that can bring the dead back to life. It's the only thing that can save my beloved wife, who passed away from a mysterious illness months ago. As the first inquisitor of the Erulan Empire, I've seen many things that defy explanation, but the thought of bringing my wife back from the dead is something I cannot ignore.{^n}{^n}I've arrived at the Peakmanes' village, and it's not what I expected. The once-proud tribe is now reduced to a handful of people, living in makeshift shelters and struggling to survive. They're wary of outsiders, and I can't blame them. They've been betrayed before, and they're not about to let it happen again.{^n}{^n}I've managed to gain their trust by showing them that I mean them no harm. I've explained my situation to them, and they've agreed to help me. But they've warned me that the power I seek comes at a great cost, and that it's not something to be taken lightly.

##### Bandits in Asterkarn
#Journey North - Part 1
tagGDLLoreNote_Journey1Name=Journey North - Part 1
tagGDLLoreNote_Journey1Text=Cronley's dead.{^n}The men are mad. Frantic. Desperate for someone to step up. I see them wander aimlessly around campfires, too scared to venture far from the flame, too proud to stay in their wooden huts.{^n}Nervous-looking men, a former shadow of what they once were. We were warriors. Saboteurs. Ruthless. Men to be feared, men to be fathomed.{^n}But now, I hear them mocking us at night - the voices in the forest, in the caves.{^n}"Cowards", they giggle. The stale stench of shame lingers in the air.{^n}{^n}Recently, there's rumours of a new path forward, a new home for us in the mountains. It is a long trek, through the river, but if all goes well...{^n}Some men don't like it, but I'm going to take my chances - anything is better than this. Whatever this is.{^n}There are some boats, some half-broken, "like us", I say. A handful of men laugh, others simply look away.{^n}We are leaving soon, and no one is happy about it. No one is upset either, we've simply accepted the fact - an unnecessary evil.{^n}We know we will rot here by the mines, but who knows how many lives the course will take?

#Journey North - Part 2
tagGDLLoreNote_Journey2Name=Journey North - Part 2
tagGDLLoreNote_Journey2Text=I'm shivering, bundled up in wet furs while I chew on some bark. My jaw is tight from the cold, and I cannot feel my fingers. Not sure if it's fatigue from rowing, or just the blistering wind.{^n}I do a headcount everyday - 9 boats, 58 men. We've lost a couple of boats already, no surprise there. I guess we're not the seafaring type.{^n}During the day, we sometimes pitch a fire ashore and take a short rest. Not for long though. Never really a break, never truly asleep. I look around me and I no longer see zombies, but ghosts - gaunt, blanched faces, hands gripped so tightly around their spears and their oars - as if I would have to rip and peel their fingers off individually for them to let go. I understand though. It's the only thing we have from home. Home, wherever that was. Whatever that was.{^n}I like to think we're a good bunch, and during the day we crack jokes and try to cheer one another on. Some men pick fights. The brawl often ends fast, and the party breathes relief. We don't stop the pain, the blood. It makes us all feel alive.{^n}At night, we row through the darkness, sometimes only a sliver of moonlight guiding our path. Sometimes we don't see anything at all, other times, we see a campfire. We shake our heads and continue down the river.{^n}At first, the men chuckled and wanted to loot the brazen campers. We soon learnt our lesson. There were no men in these foreign routes - only trolls, beasts, cultists and demons.{^n}{^n}We don't talk about the first night we decided to light a fire. We were a large party - about 70 men armed to the teeth.{^n}Our meal was cut short by a devourer's piercing cry.{^n}{^n}The next morning, I counted the heads rolling on the ground. Ten corpses. We didn't even have time to bury the men; no time to wash the blood off our hands.{^n}We don't talk about the eldritch kraken that swallowed a dozen men in seconds, their guttural screams swallowed by the rapids.{^n}We don't talk about the defectors, we don't talk about the dead.{^n}We don't light fires at night anymore.

#Journey North - Part 3
tagGDLLoreNote_Journey3Name=Journey North - Part 3
tagGDLLoreNote_Journey3Text=Ever had human flesh before?{^n}There was something so inherently wrong, so uncanny - so unnatural about it.{^n}Something different to murder, to a stab through the chest, to the blood on the ground.{^n}{^n}There was no pain for him - he was long gone, and his frost-bitten fingers tasted like nothing but ice and dread. But he had a name that will now never be uttered again.{^n}{^n}It is far colder upstream - the type of cold that bites to your bone and beats you down.{^n}{^n}No one talks when it's this cold - nothing but the sound of chattering teeth and broken oars cutting through the crisp, wintry water.{^n}{^n}They say we'll be arriving at the hold soon. We hear the words, but there is no comfort or relief. Just blank faces. Sometimes, I'll see a tiny spark, a semblance of humanity when we talk about all the meat we'll eat, all the treasure we'll find in our new home. But the faintest of smiles are short and bittersweet - we do not dare to hope.{^n}{^n}The men are excited. I think excited is the wrong word - they are frenzied, desperate, wild creatures longing for shelter and solace.{^n}This afternoon, we finally saw it. Tall, looming gray walls. Brick by brick, the stronghold came into view. Our stronghold.{^n}{^n}It was as if the men had tasted blood - our pace quickened - we were so, so close.{^n}{^n}About two more days and we'll have arrived. A scout eagerly delivers the news and collapses beside the campfire.{^n}{^n}We are relieved, joyous, triumphant... but I am uneasy.{^n}{^n}That night, someone, something, plagues my dreams. A looming figure, gaunt - their shadowy silhouette lifts a finger and caresses my face. I am paralysed, as the fingers rapidly split into many hundreds and thousands of tendrils. Some wrap around me eagerly, others dart around, taunting me. The figure inches closer as the tendrils slither into my garments, the slime and shade all-consuming and I ---{^n}{^n}I'm awake. I reach for the closest dagger. My grip is weak and my fingers tremble.{^n}{^n}I tell Margraves and the captains about my nightmares. The captains laugh at me - laugh at my superstitions, laugh at my shaking hands.{^n}Margraves does not say a word. She picks up her rifle, a stone talisman glints from the handle, her family crest etched on her greaves.{^n}"Let's get a move on".

#Confessions in The Treasury
tagGDLLoreNote_Treasury1Name=Confessions
tagGDLLoreNote_Treasury1Text=Last night, I snuck into the treasury room.{^n}I know I shouldn't have - but I had caught a peek the week before and it has been on my mind ever since.{^n}Now, those old oafs guarding the room - they were easy enough to bribe, just a jug of old mead each, a few sweet words, and next minute the gate was open.{^n}{^n}Now *I* had access to the hold - that wealth, inches from my fingertips.{^n}{^n}The mounds of gold...the pillars of coins, the sparkling jewels...it is this sheen, this blinding brilliance that brightens up such a hellhole. The cold, the hunger, the sacrifices - all is forgotten when you step foot in the treasury.{^n}{^n}I couldn't help it. I was curious. Wouldn't you have done the same? While the guards were busy getting drunk, I pocketed a single coin.{^n}And as I'm writing this, I can feel its weight in my pocket. The texture, the carvings around the gilded disk, the brilliant sheen - mesmerising, swallowing me whole.{^n}It is beautiful - perfection, but the weight grows heavier as we speak. Is it guilt? No, no - I do not feel guilt - I do not feel pain - the crystals embedded into my skull have dulled my senses and brought me power unimaginable.{^n}And yet, this singular coin - it taunts me - and I am... for the first time, in a long, long time - I am afraid. I do not fear pain, I do not fear death - but when I caress the smooth, cold coin, when my grip tightens around the promise of luxury, I fear the voice echoing in my head.{^n}A voice that dwells in the depths below, guarding something far more sinister than the avarice of mortals.{^n}{^n}It haunts me. It will not leave.

###### Gorstak
tagGDLSubHeading_Gorstak=The Tale of Gorstak
#Brother 1
tagGDLLoreNote_Gorstak1Name=Journal of Gorstak III
tagGDLLoreNote_Gorstak1Text=It's been one day since older brother left and two days since eldest brother left. They are trying to retrieve critical supplies that we lost in the Slith ambush. My hope is starting to fade... I wish they'd never left.{^n}{^n}I have to search for them. I am not afraid of what is out there, but I am worried about what could have happened to them. I am going to prepare well and leave tomorrow morning. I am determined to find them and I am not going to stop until I have succeeded.

tagGDLLoreNote_Gorstak2Name=Journal of Gorstak II
tagGDLLoreNote_Gorstak2Text=We were ambushed by Slith and had to abandon our campsite. We really need those supplies... Eldest brother left to try to retrieve them, but we haven't heard from him in over a day.{^n}{^n}Tomorrow morning, I will go look for him. I pray he is alright, and that I'm worried over nothing. If I don't return, tell mother that I'm sorry.

tagGDLLoreNote_Gorstak3Name=Journal of Gorstak I
tagGDLLoreNote_Gorstak3Text=Our clan has recently come under assault from rampaging Slith. ... Why'd it have to be Slith? In our hasty retreat, we were forced to abandon supplies that we cannot afford to lose. As the eldest son of Clan Gorstak, it falls to me to retrieve them, no matter what. I will set out at first light.

##### Asterkarn Secrets
tagGDLSubHeading_Mountains=Asterkarn Secrets

# The Hunt and the Hubris
tagGDLLoreNote_Mountain01_Name=The Hunt and the Hubris
tagGDLLoreNote_Mountain01_Text=Something feels amiss. Everyone can feel it.{^n}The game is still good, but the animals are tense.{^n}The air is frigid, but there is something else that we can't quite make out.{^n}We carried a boar back to the bonfire last night, a boar that had been shot through the eye three times by seasoned warriors.{^n}But one of the men claims he saw the creature open its eyes once more, a bright emerald green in the dull moonlight.{^n}{^n}We hear raised voices back at the camp - the Matron insists we leave the hunting grounds at once.{^n}The Chieftain scoffs.{^n}"You dare come between man and tradition? And you call yourself a soothsayer?"{^n}{^n}She shrugs, and mumbles something, clutching some adorned pebbles in her hand.{^n}{^n}There is silence - no wolf howls, not even the cry of carrion birds.{^n}Our flags are limp against the totem poles; Menhir's symbol lays forlorn against the woodwork.{^n}{^n}Even the wind has abandoned us. - Andvari, Peakmane Seer

# Berthol's Journal
tagGDLLoreNote_Mountain02_Name=Berthol's Journal, Page 4
tagGDLLoreNote_Mountain02_Text=I was awoken last night by a booming voice echoing down from Agarond's Peak. I worry my journey across the mountains will bring me face to face with whatever creature whose voice I heard in the night. Menhir, guide me, I wish only to return home to my family unharmed. - Berthol

# The Arkovian Raids of Agarond's Peak (WIP)
tagGDLLoreNote_MountainArkoviaBattleName=
tagGDLLoreNote_MountainArkoviaBattleText=There aren't many people left in these frigid lands... but some elderly woman claiming to have been a seer of some sort had a rather interesting story to tell:{^n}{^n}"Long ago, in the land of Asterkarn, there was a tribe known as the Peakmanes. They were a fierce group of people who lived high up in the mountains, relying on the land to provide them with everything they needed. They were a proud people, steeped in tradition and fiercely independent, but their way of life was about to be threatened.{^n}To the south, the Arkovian Empire has thrived for years, not only through but also been expanding their empire, conquering one land after another. They were led by King Rhowan, a ruthless and power-hungry man who would stop at nothing to expand his kingdom. His eyes had turned to the mountains of Asterkarn, and he saw the Peakmanes as a small obstacle that needed to be eliminated. The Arkovian Army marched towards the mountains, their number in the thousands.{^n}{^n}The Peakmanes knew that war was coming. They were not afraid, but they knew that they needed to prepare for the battle ahead. They called upon their greatest warriors and strategists to come together and plan a defense. They knew that they could not match the Arkovians in terms of numbers, but they were determined to defend their homeland with all their might.{^n}{^n}The Peakmanes were waiting for them, standing atop Agarond's Peak, their most sacred site. They had chosen this spot for their final stand, knowing that it would give them the greatest advantage.{^n}{^n}The battle was fierce, with swords clashing, arrows flying and screams filling the air. The Peakmanes fought with all their might, using their knowledge of the mountains to their advantage. They were able to trap the Arkovians in narrow passes, raining down rocks and arrows upon them. They fought fiercely, refusing to back down.{^n}{^n}King Rhowan himself led the charge, determined to crush the Peakmanes once and for all. But even his skill and strength were not enough to overcome the fierce warriors of the Peakmane tribe. As the battle raged on, it became clear that the Arkovians were losing ground.{^n}{^n}At last, as the sun began to set, the Arkovians were forced to retreat. The Peakmanes had won the battle, but at a great cost. Many of their warriors had been lost, and the land was scarred from the battle. The Peakmanes mourned their fallen comrades, but they were also proud of what they had achieved. They had defended their homeland against a powerful enemy and emerged victorious.{^n}{^n}However, their victory was short-lived. King Rhowan was not one to take defeat lightly. He returned with a larger army, determined to crush the Peakmanes once and for all. This time, the Peakmanes were not able to hold their ground. They fought valiantly, but in the end, they were overwhelmed by the sheer number of Arkovians.{^n}{^n}Those who were not killed in battle were taken as slaves or forced to work in the mines to supply goods for the Arkovian empire. Some of the Peakmanes fled, becoming nomadic hunters and living a life on the run. Their once-proud tribe was scattered, their way of life destroyed by the invasion.{^n}{^n}The Peakmanes became a cautionary tale, a reminder of the power of an invading force and the devastation that can be wrought by war. But even in defeat, there were those who held onto the memory of the Peakmanes' bravery and strength. They remembered the fierce warriors who had fought for their homeland and refused to give up, even in the face of overwhelming odds.

# The Tunnel to the Skies (WIP)
tagGDLLoreNote_MountainArkoviaTunnelName=The Tunnel to the Skies
tagGDLLoreNote_MountainArkoviaTunnelText=As the scribe of King Rhowan of Arkovia, it is my duty to record the history of our kingdom's conquests and achievements. Recently, our king and his army embarked on a bold endeavor - the construction of a mining tunnel through the mountains of Asterkarn.{^n}The purpose of this tunnel was twofold - to gain access to the riches hidden beneath the mountains, and to provide a more direct route for our troops to invade and control the lands of the Peakmanes oat Agarond's Peak. It was a risky venture, fraught with danger and uncertainty, but King Rhowan was undeterred.{^n}The construction of the tunnel began with a team of skilled miners, who worked tirelessly to carve out the passageway through the unforgiving mountain terrain. They faced countless challenges, from cave-ins to floods, but their determination never wavered. As the tunnel began to take shape, King Rhowan ordered the deployment of an army to secure the surrounding area and protect the miners from any hostile forces. The soldiers were battle-hardened and fiercely loyal to their king, and they carried out their duties with skill and precision.{^n}Months passed, and finally, the tunnel, a marvel of engineering, stretching deep beneath the mountains and connecting Arkovia to the lands around Agarond's Peak, was complete. King Rhowan wasted no time in sending his troops through the tunnel to begin their conquest.{^n}{^n}The Peakmanes oat Agarond's Peak were taken by surprise by our sudden appearance, and they were quickly overwhelmed by the might of our army. King Rhowan's plan had worked, and our kingdom now had access to the riches of the mountains and control over the lands beyond.{^n}{^n}As I write this account, I am struck by the bravery and determination of our king and his army. They faced seemingly insurmountable odds, but through sheer force of will, they achieved what many thought impossible. The construction of the mining tunnel through the mountains of Asterkarn will go down in history as one of the greatest achievements of the Arkovian people, and I am honored to have been wisness to it.{^n}{^n}Aucturus Dread - The King's Scribe

##### Melen's Fortress
tagGDLSubHeading_IceFortress=Malen's Legacy

# Construction Progress
tagGDLLoreNote_IceFortress_Inquisitor01_Name=Construction Progress
tagGDLLoreNote_IceFortress_Inquisitor01_Text="I've spoken to Inquisitor Fairbanks. Construction of the fortress should be completed within a fortnight. We've discovered two Eldritch portals within an ancient temple inhabited by Grobles and know not what lies beyond. Is it possible that these Grobles are capable of building such a complex structure? I'm sending a team of my most experienced men into these portals to investigate at first light tomorrow."{^n}{^n} - Inquisitor Malen

#
tagGDLLoreNote_IceFortress_Inquisitor02_Name=Sealing the Fortress
tagGDLLoreNote_IceFortress_Inquisitor02_Text="It's been three days and my men have not emerged from the Eldritch portal. I fear they did not survive. If my most seasoned men died inside, then I must ensure these portals remain unknown to any but those within my order. Cairn will be safer if this fortress is Forgotten."{^n}{^n} - Inquisitor Malen

# Zur'Tuk's Piece of Words
tagGDLLoreNote_IceFortress_Groble01_Name=Zur'Tuk's Piece of Words
tagGDLLoreNote_IceFortress_Groble01_Text=Chieftan speak of powerful magic inside of bright light at temple in crystal cave. Gron'Tin hear of this. Gron'Tin go into bright light to find, but not come out the same. Grobles scared of bright light now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
############ Season 6
### Sub Headings - Journal
tagGDLSubHeading_Hunters=Order of the Eternal Hunt

#### Hunters
#Introquest Hint
tagGDL_HunterLore_Intro00_Name=Architect's Orders
tagGDL_HunterLore_Intro00_Text=Nebe's vision showed us that the final required parts could be in one of two locations. Secure the area where the Amalgam haunts the coliseum to this day and where the biggest sandclaw to ever roam Korvan lands was spotted. The journey to the Korvan lands is long, but it will be worth your time. Time... which you now have more than plenty of.{^n}{^n}The Architect

#Introquest01
tagGDL_HunterLore_Intro01_Name=Below the Coliseum
tagGDL_HunterLore_Intro01_Text=What a horrid creature. Frankly, no one had prepped as for this fight. Something felt off. Initially, most people didn't even understand how dire the situation was. They thought the dread, that was etched into our faces, was just for show. They thought it was a scripted fight.{^n}To be fair.. Our champion did manage to take down the hideous beast. It was not pretty to watch. His body was ripped to shreds yet e still kept moving. Kept fighting. The relief of victory was overshadowed by a fearful awe of what we had all witnessed. Some dark and sinister magic was obviously at play here.{^n}And then... t hit me... I felt something. An emotion sweeped over me as I warily kept my eyes on the spectacle before me. A feeling of bloodlust. Of anger. Of unsatiated hunger. A hunger to kill. It was pouring into me. The magnitude ever increasing. Where was it coming from? It wasn't originating from the corpse of the hideous creature. Nor was it originating from our champions body. Then realizaton came. The source of this invasive emotion was coming from down under. There was something underneath the colosseum. My body was shivering. The hairs on my arms were standing on end. A headache was starting to boom inside my skull. A chill ran down my spine. Why was nobody else noticing?{^n}Suddenly, the crowds silence ended. Panic. Movement. My mind snapped back into focus. The Titans carcass had started to move. People began to grasp the dreadful reality of the situation. This was no theatrical performance. This was real.{^n}{^n}I ran. Just like all the others. But I was not like them. We were not running from the same thing.{^n}{^n}Gargil, high ranking Gladiator

#Introquest02
tagGDL_HunterLore_Intro02_Name=In the Dry Docks
tagGDL_HunterLore_Intro02_Text=The ocean had dried up. The cairan docks... We do still calm them "the docks", yet mentioning them as such does come with a tinge of nostalgia and pain. So much was lost. Trying to survive in this bleak and deadly environment is rough.{^n}After getting cornered by the warped and dangerous wildlife we had to retreat and seek shelter. The only way out was to head deep down underneath the harbor. Or so we thought. Our makeshift quest to find and establish a safe haven turned sour rather quick. Oh, how I wished we had tried to fight our way south. We probably would have perished... but death sounds surprisingly blissful compared to our current venture.{^n}There is something down here. Its presence can be felt. Waves of emotions fill me periodically. Bloodlust. An insatiable hunger. They scare me... for I am painfully aware that they are not mine. They are just reverberating within me. My soul is but a mirror for the feelings of whatever dwells here. Every new wave rattles me to my core. It makes my stomach convulse. Sweat is pouring down my forehead and drenching my back. My lips are quivering. My heart is racing. It is hard to focus. I constantly feel on the verge of a panic attack.{^n}I thought I had known fear.{^n}{^n}Trent, former dockhand

#Lai'ka, the Truthseeker
tagGDL_HunterLore_Laika01_Name=Lai'ka's Journal - Part 1
tagGDL_HunterLore_Laika01_Text=The first person to ever reach the strengths and abilities of the two founders was Thrawn. Interestingly enough... there are no recollections of his initiation trial. Upon looking further into the matter, I have discovered that he might not be quit as heroic as the public tends to believe.{^n}{^n}I suspect he joined the order on a deal; offering his unique array of skills in exchange for easy access to rare materials. I assume he needed these to further develop his magical arts.{^n}{^n}This discovery got me rather curious...{^n}{^n}I investigated what kind of materials the arkovian hunters tend to stash in their secret little hideout (which frankly... is not hidden that well; took me only about 2 weeks to figure out the rough area) and cross-referenced those materials with charts of their uses. The results are worrying. Some of those materials have... how should I put it... "dubious uses".{^n}{^n}{^n}Lai'ka, the Truthseeker

tagGDL_HunterLore_Laika02_Name=Lai'ka's Journal - Part 2
tagGDL_HunterLore_Laika02_Text=The more I looked into what materials the arkovian hunters had access to, the more worried I got. Some of these materials were not just usable for occult magics but, even more terrifyingly, UNUSABLE for anything else. It kept nagging at me. And nagging at me. Until it got so bad, I just had to go take a look myself.{^n}{^n}What I unveiled was disturbing. Grotesque.{^n}{^n}Thrawn has developed a very horrible spell. More specifically a ritual; an extraction ritual. It is based on dark and sinister magic and it is used to harvest the remnant life-force of fresh corpses. Yes. Corpses.{^n}{^n}They set up candles. Marked the ground with blood. Sat in a circle with stoic gazes and started chanting. That in and of itself was already peculiar enough. After a while the real horror started.{^n}{^n}The corpses... they screamed. Yes. The corpses. As if they were brought to life... Just to be killed again. A vibrant stream of light blue energy flew towards the casters. It seemed they were... feeding. I struggled not to vomit. I really wanted to vomit. I am sure I would've felt better afterwards but I couldn't risk blowing my cover. After a while their stoic nature shifted. They opened their eyes and started... giggling. Occasionally one of them would let out a hysterical laugh. It seemed like they enjoyed the process. Interestingly, I wasn't able to avert my gaze. Partly because some kind of morbid curiosity had taken ahold of me and partly because... I had this feeling. This urge. To take it all in. To witness it. I felt the urge grow. After a while I became anxious. I wasn't afraid I would be discovered... I was afraid I would end up wanting to join them. Somehow, I managed to rip my attention away from the spectacle and then... I ran.{^n}{^n}{^n}Lai'ka, the Truthseeker

tagGDL_HunterLore_Laika03_Name= Lai'ka's Journal - Part 3
tagGDL_HunterLore_Laika03_Text=I have calmed down. My last... adventure had me feeling woozy for a while now. I've been thinking about the whole thing for a while now. Trying to put it all together. I know what they are doing and I think I've also figured out why they are doing it. Although... it took me a while until it "clicked".{^n}{^n}I did some research on the arkovian people. Foolish bunch. Wanted to become immortal. Didn't end too well. Did they technically find a spell that grants immortality? Yes. Did it function exactly as they envisioned?...{^n}{^n}Long story short... Their souls are bound to this world for all eternity. Their bodies, however, are not. And the passing of time has worn them down quit visibly. Their bodies are, nowadays, just ghastly shells of their former selves. Most arkovian ghosts have also gone mad. Keeping your sanity in check over eons seems like tough ask. So that got me thinking...{^n}{^n}I wonder if the occult magics Thrawn developed is a method to keep their minds in check? It would explain why they can talk and act so humanely. It WOULD make a lot of sense. My mind is still not at ease, though. I fear this magic might infect the mind ever so slowly turn your soul darker than the passing of time ever could...{^n}{^n}{^n}Lai'ka, the Truthseeker

tagGDL_HunterLore_Cyrrah01_Name=Half Torn Diary
tagGDL_HunterLore_Cyrrah01_Text=Cyrrah is my Idol. People tend to give me weird looks for saying that... understandable. She may not seem like the most likeable person, but that is because... they don't know.{^n}{^n}The village she grew up in, by some unfortunate quirk of fate, happened to fall victim to an ancient beast's wrath. It was a massacre. An attack of unprecedented scale.{^n}{^n}People recount feeling uneasy on that fateful day. The weather had been off kilter. Unnatural winds plagued the lands. Dark clouds formed and an insurmountable amount of rain swept through Arkovia. The temperature dropped significantly. In the middle of summer as well!{^n}{^n}Some whisper about remembering a massive dark silhouette emerging out of the ocean and slowly trudging inland. Back then we were all oblivious of what was transpiring... Nowadays we know it was Incartherus, the rampaging boar of destruction, that had gone berserk. Somehow, someone had offended it. To this day we do not know what triggered this calamity.{^n}{^n}Rumours say its fiery breath would engulf an entire meadow with a single huff. Its long tusks, that weighed more than a malmouthian whale, could smush most living things to pulp in a heartbeat. Leaving behind an unrecognizable puddle of bloody goo. It charged in one single direction until it reached... young Cyrrah's hometown.{^n}{^n}At only 12 years of age, she had experienced one of the worst tragedies that had befallen our world until then. Only a handful of individuals survived the incident, their minds scarred for all eternity. One would think coming out of that traumatic situation alive would be something to cherish. Yet all of those affected ended up as unrecognizable, broken husks of their former selves. All of them... except for Cyrrah. The despair that had filled up and weighed down the others did not seem to affect her. Or rather... it did... just not in the way you would assume. Her experience seemed to fuel her. Only a week after she began training.. Her childlike and joyful personality replaced by cold and stubborn determination. Her gleeful jabbering turned into a silent stern stare.

tagGDL_HunterLore_Sygrund01_Name=Crumpled Diary
tagGDL_HunterLore_Sygrund01_Text=Having gained fame for his valor Sygrund was invited to try out for the Arkovian Hunters. Considering the intensity of the hunter's initiation trials most would take some time to gather their thoughts and mentally steel themselves. Not Sygrund. He nonchalantly accepted and passed the whole testing process with flying marks. As far as we know he is also the fastest one to complete the whole ordeal. I assume he rushed into the fray recklessly and picked apart whatever ended up in front of him... probably had his typical smug grin stuck on his face the whole time. After become anointed the people started calling him "The Brave". Although, truth be told, I find this somewhat odd. You see... Sygrund is the most talented Fighter I have ever seen. I suspect that he has never had any real struggles in life. I doubt he has ever felt fear. Why would you? I can't imagine anyone... or anything be strong enough to pose an actual challenge for him. I wonder how he would react, if he was confronted with an enemy that he couldn't just smash into the ground...{^n}The masses call him "The Brave", but our comrades call him "The Singer". Why? Well... If you give him enough Ale, you'll discover that he has a hidden, yet very charming side to him. In his drunken form, he becomes very creative and his knack for telling stories tends to end up on full display. I've jokingly tried to get him to do theater performances, but alas... So far he has either declined or dodged the question. Maybe one day I'll convince him to get on stage.

### Other
tagGDLLoreNote_SealedCrypt01_Name=Forged in Silver
tagGDLLoreNote_SealedCrypt01_Text=For months we have fought, tooth and nail. With more stalemates than victories for either of us.{^n}But this time, Harold Margraves, I came prepared and I had the last laugh. After years of careful planning, we finally caught you unawares and sealed you up with your Eldritch abominations.{^n}Silver to hold the seal, silver to guard the crypt, and who better to build it than the Lesaunts, proud smiths of the Luminari.{^n}Years have they worked and spoken to the metal, and for years has silver been synonymous with the name Lesaunt.{^n}As long as their hearts beat and as long as their hammers bang, I know they take pride in this and will guard this crypt safely.{^n}Yet I fear we will meet once again. I sense it in every beat of my heart, and I believe they sense it too.{^n}But with them here, and knowing they could repair this silver key, I can rest assured that it will be a while before we meet again.{^n}{^n} - Inquisitor Malen.

tagGDLLoreNote_TomboftheFirstInquisitor01_Name=Expedition Logbook, 37th entry
tagGDLLoreNote_TomboftheFirstInquisitor01_Text=Here we stand, after years of toiling at the precipice of history.{^n}The tomb of the first Inquisitor. A warrior greatly known, but yet forgotten. He set the foundation for the Luminari to follow in his steps to protect the throne and the people from the cults of heretics and rogue mages. And then, suddenly he vanished.{^n}{^n}While names like Allagast, Ludrigan and Dagallon ring with praise for what they achieved, most do not remember his name... only the myths and stories of the life he lived.{^n}{^n}Decades have gone as rumours of his passing have reached our ears, and for years have we searched for any signs of him or his remains. Of where he has been laid to rest.{^n}If all the signs we followed are true, then it would be a great honour to finally find the Tomb of our very first Inquisitor.{^n}{^n} - Wilfrith August, Luminari Interrogator
