We are cursed! I fear our beloved Hanweir is lost.No one comes to trade in our village.
The streets are empty
Might as well slit our throats and hand us over to the ghouls.
- Ekka
Town of Hanweir
It is hereby decreed
On this 33rd day of Hunter's Moon
the area of the graveyard and especially
THE BLOOD-SOAKED GRAVE
is forbidden and furthermore
-DAILY-
CHUCH ATTENDANCE IS COMPULSORY
Until such time as the curse is deemed broken
by order of
Jurgen Garensun
The Mayor of Hanweir
****************************************** Geralf and Gisa
Father,
While I mourn the loss of the manor, you cannot say I did not warn you. Geralf is a simpering, insane idiot. If it had not been a fire, it would have been an explosion. You should have forbade his alchemical experiments years ago and locked him in the attic.
And no, he did not get the body parts from me. As you know, I would never share any choice bits with that priggish little snot. Maybe he stole them. I thought I recognized Meyer's severed arm. But he should not have been in the basement anyway. I have warned him many times to listen or I would cut off his ears.
It was around 3:30 when one of his second-rate skaabs came lurching into Mother's parlor. Father, it was laughably pathetic. It stumbled into the fireplace and lit the room ablaze. Poor little Geralf scampered about the room like a squirrel without even the brains to stamp out the sparks.
I wanted a baby sister! With a red ribbon in her hair. Why did you ruin our lives with HIM?
Your firstborn by an hour,
Gisa
45th of New Moon, Ava. 715
Dear Father Whom I Adore,
You taught me to speak frankly, and I have
always heeded your advice. It was Gisa’s fault.
She alone burned down our ancestral manor.
It pains me to reveal your only daughter’s true
nature. You always gave her the best in life,
far better than me. But I was happy to be
the shadow to her blazing sun.
You must not blame yourself that one of your
offspring (her!) took such a macabre interest in
the grave. Nor was it a tainted bloodline,
for I share that blood, and I have none of the
obsessions of ghoulcalling.
Here is the stark truth: I heard a bloodcurdling
scream coming from the basement. Gisa sprinted
up the stairs with a ghoul swiping at her
heels. I fought bravely as she cowered, but it
overcame me. It was only be sheer force of will
that I was able to carry Gisa out on my shoulders
as it smashed the room to bits -- the scraps
igniting a fire -- which sadly took the entire
manor.
Please father. Punish Gisa for her gruesomeness
must, but permit me back into the fold.
Your ever obedient son,
Geralf the Third
45th of New Moon, Ava. 715
Bishop Dartan:
This is the fourth letter I’ve sent to Thraben Cathedral in search of assistance. There will not be a fifth. Actually, I am hoping I live long enough to complete this letter.
On the west side of Trostad, near the graveyard, a vile ghoulcaller named Gisa practices her foul arts, raising the bodies of our loved ones into twisted undead horrors. On the east side of the city, her brother Geralf is holed up in some laboratory he has created inside the smithy. He is not just raising our ancestors whole, he is stitching together skaabs, some as tall as three men, bent on utter destruction.
They are fighting each other and they shall not stop! You must make them stop! Why are they fighting here? Our city is almost lost. Please, send cathars. All of them.
Jolen, mayor of Trostad
44th of Harvest Moon, Ava. 716
My dear Gisa,
Must you always cheat?
We AGREED on rules of conduct. The Five Laws of NecroWarfare:
1. No spontaneous awakenings.
2. No luring, killing, and raising of bystanders or livestock.
3. Combatants face off at a predetermined place and time.
4. Combatants must have at least three limbs to play.
5. Headquarters are off limits.
You cannot raise ghouls mid battle! You must send your army to meet me
in the valley. Do not flank me! Do not sneak up behind me!
Legless torsos do not count as soldiers. My skaabs have teeth marks
all over their legs from your draggy little meat sacks. Oh, I want my
sextant back. And do not come into my laboratory again!
You signed in blood. So it counts.
Geralf
56th of New Moon, Ava. 717
Must you always whine?
I agreed to nothing.
1. I shall raise ghouls anytime I wish. You are just mad because you
have to run back to your sewing maching while I can just whistle them
up from the grave.
2. If a farmer is stupid enough to check out a creepy light, then he
deserves to be killed with a shovel and become my servant.
3. A predetermined place and time? What is this, a tea party?
4. Those so-called “meat sacks” are models of efficiency. You cannot
even make a skaab walk without giving it 17 different body parts.
5. I didn’t take your stupid sextant.
As always, you lack the brains of an infant,
Gisa
58th of New Moon, Ava. 717
P.S. I never said it was my blood.
P.P.S I want Father’s book. Kill as many of my emissaries as you like.
I shall make more until you hand it over. And next time, they will be
bringing gifts.
My dear Gisa,
I cannot abide your poor sportsmanship any longer.
I am adding a new rule to the Rules of NecroWarfare:
6. No magical swords.
If you have one, then I should have one. But, as you know, I DO NOT. I
implore you, sister. Your wretched sword ruins everything.
Geralf
SEAL THE COURTYARD
COVER THE WINDOWS
Of the angel’s loft
None may lay eyes on the
HELVAULT
without my leave.
Order of Mikeaus
To my esteemed fellows at Elgaud Academy
The nature of the Helvault confounds me!
It is absurd to call it a ruined monument.
As for a shard of silver moon, who dares call me a fool? We must implore the Lunarch for another viewing.
This mystery cannot elude us.
- H. Karlmahn
************************************************ PITRE THE THATCHER AND LORELEI GARENSUN
Farmer Roller,
You must cease the rumors about my daughter and that dim-witted thatcher!
I'd geist-lock Lorelai before I'll let her marry a buffoon like Pitre.
Jurgen Garensun
Mayor of Hanweir
IT IS HEREBY ANNOUNCED
On the 13th of Hunter's Moon
There shall be, in the town square
A FEAST
Of most delectable proportions
To honor our most famous
Town Hero!
Deliverer from Evil!
Vampire Killer!
Pitre
the Thatcher
Flowers and Laurels are welcome and expected.
Dearest Lorelei,
You will not understand why I am leaving, which is why I have left in the night, this letter being my only explanation.
The awful truth is that I have not earned the town's accolades. The vampire I killed was just a whelp who I caught unawares while he was feeding on the chickens.
He didn't even see me, and that's how I was able to take his head off with my spade. I do not think he ever knew what happened!
When I took the head to the mayor, I was set on telling him the truth. Once he saw the fangs poking out from the horrid thing's mouth, he started a big fuss, and before I knew it, he dragged me out into the square and announced my supposed victory to all.
I've been caught up in all this mess, and living with the truth has driven me to near madness. I'm going to Erdwald in Nephalia to find a real vampire, and kill it. I cannot live with myself, nor marry you, until I have fulfilled the destiny that has been attributed to me.
Yours,
Pitre
11th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
Dearest Lorelei,
It has been a harrowing journey, to be sure. Erdwald is so much
bigger than Hanweir! I fear my life has ill prepared me for such a
place as this.
I've been relieved of my meager kit by a gang of footpads that greeted
me at the town's gates, saying they were "inspectors." They were out
of sight before I realized they had fled with all I brought, save the
clothes on my back.
Fear not my love! For adversity is the soil in which opportunity
sprouts. I have taken in with the church, and they have greeted me
with open arms! A priest has given me food and shelter, and only asks
me to perform menial tasks in the upkeep of the church yards. It is a
job I am all too well suited for!
Yet Avacyn has a plan, even for me! My priest has also been
instructing me in the art of vampire hunting. I know it sounds
dangerous, and it is, but you can be assured that when I return, you
can hold your head up high as we march through the town in our wedding
procession!
Yours,
Pitre
14th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
Dearest Lorelei,
Day of days! My training is complete, and now I am on the trail of that most unholy of abominations — Vampire. The one I hunt is clever, there is no doubt. But I have faith on my side! Faith in Avacyn, faith in my training, and above all, faith in the truth that the blessed sleep is nothing compared to living a life with you.
Yours,
Pitre
23rd of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
Lorelei,
I fear I have undertaken too much. I am writing this in a small
tavern on the outskirts of town, and soon I will procure passage home,
disgraced.
The vampire I would hunt was only toying with me, and now I find
myself hunted. My only hope is to slip out of the thing's influence
and return to my humble beginnings.
I no longer hold any hope of returning as the man you deserve, so I
will be satisfied with being the thatcher whose services you may
sometimes require and nothing more. If I return at all.
And if I do not, remember me well.
Once yours but no longer,
Pitre
25th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
I knew it was the right thing to do, I knew it was what Pitre would have wanted. Beheading is the only way to keep someone from turning, and there was no way to be sure whether he had been bitten or not. But now my hands are forever stained, so I have decided to turn them over to Avacyn. For these reasons, and many more, I beseech you to admit me to your humble order. I have no reason to remain here in Gavony.
Your sister in Avacyn,
Lorelei.
************************************ RABEN (I suggest you read this section after the section on Pitre and Lorelei)
My son Raben,
I hope this letter finds you well. I heard of your victory in Kessig. Yes, many cathars fought at your side. But you were the strategist. The church is truly fortunate to have a warrior of your character and caliber.
I must call on you again, Raben. It's been awhile since I burdened you with a quest, perhaps you thought it was finally over. I know these missions are difficult and lonely. But they are crucial to our cause. It is absolutely necessary that you bring this evil weapon back to the church. As before, you are the only one that I trust with a matter of such delicacy.
The sword is named The Bloodletter. Flesh split by this blade never ceases to bleed, even after death. A demon has his eye on this sword. If he were to obtain it, it would mean the end of our church and our way of life.
Rumors of such a wound have reached my ears. The man's name was Pitre, and he hailed from Hanweir in Gavony. Discover where-and by whom-he was wounded, and follow the trail to The Bloodletter.
May Avacyn be with you on your journey.
Your loving father,
Jofridus
45th of Hunter's Moon, the year of Avacyn 719
60th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
This book was once a place of solace for me. A refuge. Now that its prayers have somehow faded from its pages, I cannot help but think that it is a sign that Avacyn has forsaken me.
My father has sent me on a mission for yet another of the weapons. I haven't the heart to tell him that each of these quests has proven to be near fatal. I cannot let him down is it heresy to say that I fear his disappointment more than Avacyn's?
He has given me the name of a village; Hanwier. After (2? a?) long journey, and a short battle with a band of brigands, I arrived this night to the shuttering of windows and closing of doors. Whether this place is cursed as its inhabitants believe remains to be seen. The curse of mistrust is flourishing however.
So this book, once a place I went to for enlightenment, now becomes a place that will hopefully enlighten others. For I have little doubt that this is my final sortie. If I do not return, I pray to Avacyn that this book finds its way home.
Father, if you are reading this, I am sorry for failing you.
Raben
61st of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
A most enlightening day, indeed.
The town, appearing most deserted, was in fact filled with cowering peasants. I presented my patents to the mayor, a fattened calf named Jurgen. He eyed the scroll and waxed seals nervously, then relented to their obvious authority.
He then proceeded to stammer out the story of a local thatcher who had returned to the village after a journey, bleeding and near death. Once he had reached the chapel, he fell dead at its doorstep.
What came next confirmed my suspicions that this was the man I was sent to find. The mayor led me to the graveyard, where a grave ringed in red dirt resided. This blood-soaked grave could only be the final resting place of the man who had been kissed by the blade I seek.
To the sheer horror of the humble townsfolk, I ordered his body exhumed. There was much protest, but the power of the church prevailed and the digging commenced. The work proceeded until dusk, when the worker's shovels at last clanked against wood.
The simple casket was saturated with blood, its timbers nearly falling apart. Once opened, a bloody tide poured forth, to the screams and gasps of the gathered locals. Floating within, the headless body of Pitre the Thatcher rested.
Just as Father had told, his wound continued to pump forth blood. It is no wonder the people of this town feel they are cursed. After sketching the message that had been carved into his flesh, I had his remains purified by fire. May Avacyn show him the mercy that this life did not.
Raben
62nd of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
The members of this village have been most begrudging in their assistance so far. I suspect this is due to my orders to exhume the poor thatcher, but it is something I have sensed since my arrival.
The only person who seemed to have any idea of where Pitre received his mortal wound was his betrothed, but she has fled the village to join a local monastery. After some pressure, her father finally allowed me to search her meager possessions.
It was in his letters to her that I have found my next destination: Erdwal, in Nephalia. Even as I write this, the stable-boy is preparing my horse and the house mother is packing my things. I haven't a minute to lose, as each that passes cools the trail.
Raben
75th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
I arrived in Erdwal two days ago. As distasteful as it may have been, I chose to use subterfuge to gain entrance to the town. Pitre's letters suggested that he had been accosted by thieves upon entrance; I therefore chose to enter on foot, wearing my tabard alone. To the complacent eye, I appeared to be a simple pilgrim or humble farmer, which is precisely the effect I wished to generate.
I was not disappointed.
The light of law has too many shadows in this town. No sooner had I entered that I was stopped by some grimy men wearing ragged uniforms that suggested their original owners had no further need for them.
I knew their greed would be my ally, so I had fixed a large pack to carry over my shoulder. Sure enough, this made me quite a target. They even abandoned their pilfering of a young woman to set their sights on me! Little victories such as this help feed my hungry soul.
"Halt!" their leader cried out to me. "Surrender your parcels for inspection!"
I stopped and said nothing. My silence was a noose that would trap them. The others surrounded me, and as their leader reached for my kit, I stiffened. This caused a ripple of fear to course through them, quickly hidden by their nervous laughter. These rogues were clearly not used to resistance.
"Fine. To the gaol with this one!" This is what I wanted; to lure them away from their familiar ground. I was grabbed by both elbows and pushed down a nearby alleyway. This was my chance.
Pulling the hidden sword from my robes, I rained blow after blow of righteous fury upon them. I shall write more tomorrow. Tonight I shall spend in prayer.
Raben
76th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
A deeper sleep I have never slept, but a sleep filled with frightening dreams I did not understand. A strangely dressed old man was angry with me.
As I had chronicled yesterday, the leader of the footpads survived our alleyway battle. I placed a food on his chest as he lay on the cobblestones, and pointed my sword at his neck. I then demanded the knowledge I sought.
Not wanting to give too much away, I began by asking about the thatcher, but this was a dead-end. He had assaulted so many that trying to get the details of one of his victims was futile. To speak of the cursed blade was too dangerous, especially to this one. I could justify killing the others, as they had clearly sought to end my life, but to kill this one as he lay in such a position of weakness could not be rectified. Of course, there was no reason for him to know this.
I pressed my foot into his chest and drew my blade back, intending to knock him unconscious. He turned his head in anticipation of the blow, and it was then that I saw it: the same mark that had been carved into Pitre's body. The mark of Thatu.
"Thatu" escaped my lips in pure astonishment, and the man's eyes grew wide with recognition. Seizing upon the moment, I said "Thatu sent me." Another transgression, but I pray a necessary one.
His lips curled in horror, and he finally gave me the information I needed to know.
Thatu has traveled to Stensia, to a place called Maalfeld. Stensia being a haven for Vampires, it is likely that he is one of them. The sword must be quite a treasure to his kind.
I left the wretch sleeping off his headache in the alleyway. May Avacyn show him the way.
Raben
83rd of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
Encountered a group of Falkenrath Marauders a two nights ago. I've been travelling by moonlight ever since crossing the border into Stensia, in order to be alert for nocturnal enemies.
A beautiful woman knelt, bleeding, in the middle of the road. I was suspicious, but the sound of her weeping bade my horse to stop, and I dismounted. It was then that the trap was sprung.
No less than 9 vampires descended upon from the trees, while the woman's weeping turned to laughter. I was outmatched and had little recourse but to tell them why I was here.
"My quarrel is with but one of you. I seek out the Vampire named Thatu, and the blade he carries."
Their jovial faces turned quite serious, and at this I held fears that I had said too much. A tense moment passed, then the leader nodded to his band and they departed as quickly as they had appeared. The woman stared at me, wide-eyed until she joined her cohorts in the inky blackness of the forest.
I do not know if these brigands communicate with each other, but I do know that the rest of my journey to Maalfeld was unhindered. Tomorrow, I enter Thatu's castle.
Raben
85th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
A sleepless night followed by a sleepless day. Last night I met the vampire named Thatu.
I found his estate to be suspiciously unguarded. The dust-riddled skeletons of dead vampires surrounded the entrance, their fanged skulls being the only evidence of their former immortality.
Father, I drew the sword you had made for me. Its sigils and lines brought a familiar comfort to this unholy place. My footfalls sounded like the march of a phalanx in the silence that surrounded me, and I was sure I would be beset upon at any moment.
I found him sitting at the end of a long, dark dining gallery, papers and books spread before him. Had I no knowledge of who he was, I might have taken pity on him. He seemed so small, sitting all alone in that massive room.
I could see the blade resting against his golden chair. Then, as if he could sense me eyeing his treasure, the creature leapt into the air and swung the sword at my chest.
The battle was hard-fought. I had learned in training that the first cut of a swordfight was the most painful. It was meant to inure us to the fear of the blade. I myself have been cut many times in battle. But now I could not allow even a single slice to get past my defenses.
His swings were wild and unfocused, and it was then that I realized he was fighting for his dignity, not for his life. For reasons I still cannot fully understand, this creature wanted me to kill him. Strangely, this revelation made him less of an enemy to me, but an enemy nonetheless.
I pray for Avacyn's forgiveness, for I obliged his wish. As he lay on the tiled floor looking up at me, he said words that haunt me still: "This is the blade that will kill your father. Bringing it to him will seal his fate!"
This sword is a most unnatural object. I have covered it in a swatch of leather so that there will be no possibility of accidental contact. The times that I have touched its surface, it felt warm and alive, pulsing with evil energies.
I was severely fatigued after the battle with the creature, but I had the presence of mind to confiscate some of its papers that lay spread out on the table. I knelt in prayer, thanking Avacyn for my victory, and then walked out as easily as I walked in. I do not pretend to understand these creatures, nor their enigmatic motives, but clearly I have been allowed entry into this realm, and I was allowed out.
I made camp a few hours ago, as the sun rose. I rifled through the pages I took from Thatu, trying to divine some meaning from their bombastic prose, when a single word leaped off the parchment and pierced my mind: Reika.
She was a fellow initiate at Elgaud, and was dismissed under charges of theft. I did not believe them at the time, for I had known her to be a gentle soul that was still fierce in battle. Has she fallen so far?
I must return to Erdwal and find her. I will give her the benefit of the doubt until I can hear her own account of things.
Raben
87th of Hunter’s Moon, Ava. 719
I arrived in Erdwal just past midday. I rode through the gates on horseback, wearing my Cathar’s tabard with my sword at my side. I saw the group that had accosted me upon my previous entry, though their leader, Thatu’s thrall, was nowhere to be seen.
Thoughts of Reika plague me. I cannot help but think that I could have done more to help her avoid the path that she is on. Perhaps if I had been a more attentive friend. Perhaps if I had returned her feelings.
In the end, each person’s soul is weighed alone, so I cannot bear hers as well as mine. She needs no help on the battlefield, so I cannot presume she needed my help before. But still, am I not here to hold up the worthy to Avacyn?
I shall begin the search in the morning, tonight I seek a cell in the odd structure that passes for a church in this town.
Raben
92nd of Hunter’s Moon, Ava. 719
The priest in this church has, I’m afraid, gone quite insane. He was overly joyed to see me, and he almost fell on his face in an attempt to welcome me to his church. Apparently he has not gotten a great many visits here.
He fills every moment he can with useless prattle about the gangs, and the vampire menace. Some people are a drain on the energies, and I must take care not to let him siphon more than he has.
That is not to say that he has been useless. He was able to start me on my hunt today which has, so far, proven quite fruitful. The priest directed me to a tavern called “The Wolf’s Head”, complete with the stuffed head of a dog over the bar for effect. The innkeeper had seen Reika, though he was elusive as to where. He seemed afraid to tell me the truth, and not even my standing as a Cathar seemed to sway him.
Fortunately - or rather, most unfortunately in the grand scheme of things - those who do not respect the church still respect the coin. He ushered me to a corner of the tavern, swore me to not reveal him as the source of my information, and then he told me about the pits.
Reika has apparently been captured, and is working off her debts by fighting in the pits for sport. I felt a strange sort of elation at this knowledge. I know where she is, and most importantly, I know she is safe.
Woe to the foolhardy pit fighter who would underestimate her!
Most of those were just linked from image hosting sites, is probably why. Hopefully someone attached them somewhere.
This is the only one that got a pic on the Wizards feature article recapping the party. I remember that there was one that seemed like it related to Cloistered Youth (father saying he'd rather have his daughter "geist-locked" than marry a particular person) and one that seemed related to Travel Preparations (advice about traveling through the moors).
I'm calling it right now- worst rare in the set. Even good limited players will find better bombs at common and uncommon no sweat. Worst. Episode. Ever.
I really do predict this to be our worst rare in set award winner. I'd be happier opening a jar of eyeballs, so I think anything worse is highly unlikely. This card wont just have zero constructed potential, but not be significantly better than a mass of ghouls in a draft.
@ludd_gang:
Suggestion: put the real-world date, and perhaps source link (for those where one exists) of these with each as they come rolling in? I appreciate the work you are doing, and its totally your call. Thanks
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
My Clan Is Dead.... Long Live The Izzet! Johnny, born and raised. Always lookin' for the Next Level Combo. Thanks to Bornover of FHLS for the banner!
I'm calling it right now- worst rare in the set. Even good limited players will find better bombs at common and uncommon no sweat. Worst. Episode. Ever.
I really do predict this to be our worst rare in set award winner. I'd be happier opening a jar of eyeballs, so I think anything worse is highly unlikely. This card wont just have zero constructed potential, but not be significantly better than a mass of ghouls in a draft.
Fantastic work finding and collecting all of these in order ludd_gang!
I haven't managed to track them all down myself so far so I'll be looking forward to checking back in on this thread regularly to see what new letters have been posted. This has got to be the most awesome flavor infusion for an upcoming set that I've seen since I started playing MtG a few years ago
Your "From PAX" spoiler block regarding the Helvault doesn't work. Either that, or Chrome is being silly.
Random point of interest, the PAX Worldbuilding panel stated that the Helvault is the name of a massive slice of the silver moon that crashed into the landmass of Innistrad for some reason, enshrined at the Cathedral of Avacyn.
Hidden inside the large Korlash image found in the link above, I blatently stole this:
Dearest Lorelei,
Day of days! My training is complete, and now I am on the trail of that most unholy of abominations — Vampire. The one I hunt is clever, there is no doubt. But I have faith on my side! Faith in Avacyn, faith in my training, and above all, faith in the truth that the blessed sleep is nothing compared to living a life with you.
(Auto-reply from [email]rircarothma@gmail.com[/email])
Rircarothma to me
show details 10:22 PM (6 minutes ago)
Dearest Lorelei,
It has been a harrowing journey, to be sure. Erdwald is so much
bigger than Hanweir! I fear my life has ill prepared me for such a
place as this.
I've been relieved of my meager kit by a gang of footpads that greeted
me at the town's gates, saying they were "inspectors." They were out
of sight before I realized they had fled with all I brought, save the
clothes on my back.
Fear not my love! For adversity is the soil in which opportunity
sprouts. I have taken in with the church, and they have greeted me
with open arms! A priest has given me food and shelter, and only asks
me to perform menial tasks in the upkeep of the church yards. It is a
job I am all too well suited for!
Yet Avacyn has a plan, even for me! My priest has also been
instructing me in the art of vampire hunting. I know it sounds
dangerous, and it is, but you can be assured that when I return, you
can hold your head up high as we march through the town in our wedding
procession!
The town, appearing most deserted, was in fact filled with cowering peasants. I presented my patents to the mayor, a fattened calf named Jurgen. He eyed the scroll and waxed seals nervously, then relented to their obvious authority.
He then proceeded to stammer out the story of a local thatcher who had returned to the village after a journey, bleeding and near death. Once he had reached the chapel, he fell dead at its doorstep.
What came next confirmed my suspicions that this was the man I was sent to find. The mayor led me to the graveyard, where a grave ringed in red dirt resided. This blood-soaked grave could only be the final resting place of the man who had been kissed by the blade I seek.
To the sheer horror of the humble townsfolk, I ordered his body exhumed. There was much protest, but the power of the church prevailed and the digging commenced. The work proceeded until dusk, when the worker's shovels at last clanked against wood.
The simple casket was saturated with blood, its timbers nearly falling apart. Once opened, a bloody tide poured forth, to the screams and gasps of the gathered locals. Floating within, the headless body of Pitre the Thatcher rested.
Just as Father had told, his wound continued to pump forth blood. It is no wonder the people of this town feel they are cursed. After sketching the message that had been carved into his flesh, I had his remains purified by fire. May Avacyn show him the mercy that this life did not.
Interesting, all of these are intertwined into a single plot. I assume that the vampire letter from yesterday will turn out to be connected in some way as well.
This is an awesome way to let loose flavor of the set by the way, I'm having way to much fun with this.
So from what I've read, here's my speculation...
Pitre killed a young vampire and the town thought him a hero. But he saw his victory as a fluke and went to train and kill a real vampire. From here I assume the vampire he ended up going after was Thatu, who was "clever" by signing whatever deal he speaks of in his letter. Thatu has the Sword that Raben wants. Thatu used the cursed blade on Pitre, who then (I assume) ran back to village dying. Jorelda cut his head off to keep him from turning, but that inadvertently let loose the "Blood Curse", which Raben confirms is the work of the blade he seeks.
Conclusion? The sword is a vampiric relic. it lets loose an infinite torrent of blood, which (in my opinion) would help the vampire feeding frenzies by quite a bit.
Could this Sword be related to Sorin's somehow?
Maybe each of the main Vampire families has a special sword related to Sangromancy.
Since Sorin is a master of Sangromancy, perhaps the sword is his? Maybe he created/enchanted it? Maybe it's even the sword he's holding in the art for Dark Ascension.
I arrived in Erdvald two days ago. With the same disgust as always, I used a trick to get into the city. In letters Pitre mentioned that at the gate he encountered thieves, because I prefer to enter on foot, wrapped in a cloak. From the side I might seem a simple pilgrim, or a modest farmer, and this is exactly the effect I wanted to achieve.
I'm not mistaken.
Light of the law leaves too many shadows in this city. As soon as I approached, I was stopped several grinning men in ragged uniforms, on which is immediately obvious - the former owners, it is no longer needed.
I knew that their greed will be my ally, and laid them before a large knapsack on his back. Surely it would make me an ideal target. And it's true - they even have distracted from trying to rob some woman, barely noticing me. Small victories like that warm my frozen soul.
- Whoa! - Shouted one of them. - Open the bag check!
I silently stopped. My silence was a trap into which they were not slow to fall. Others around me, and as soon as my head reached for the knapsack, I pushed his hand away. This made them a surge of fear, which they quickly hid a nervous laugh. These crooks obviously not accustomed to resist.
"Well, in prison it!" This is what I sought - to entice them with familiar territory. I grabbed my elbow and dragged him to the nearest alley. This was my chance.
Pulling hidden under the cloak of a sword, I threw them on his righteous anger. The rest I'll write tomorrow. Today I will spend in prayer.
I arrived in Erdwal two days ago. As distasteful as it may have been, I chose to use subterfuge to gain entrance to the town. Pitre's letters suggested that he had been accosted by thieves upon entrance; I therefore chose to enter on foot, wearing my tabard alone. To the complacent eye, I appeared to be a simple pilgrim or humble farmer, which is precisely the effect I wished to generate.
I was not disappointed.
The light of law has too many shadows in this town. No sooner had I entered that I was stopped by some grimy men wearing ragged uniforms that suggested their original owners had no further need for them.
I knew their greed would be my ally, so I had fixed a large pack to carry over my shoulder. Sure enough, this made me quite a target. They even abandoned their pilfering of a young woman to set their sights on me! Little victories such as this help feed my hungry soul.
"Halt!" their leader cried out to me. "Surrender your parcels for inspection!"
I stopped and said nothing. My silence was a noose that would trap them. The others surrounded me, and as their leader reached for my kit, I stiffened. This caused a ripple of fear to course through them, quickly hidden by their nervous laughter. These rogues were clearly not used to resistance.
"Fine. To the gaol with this one!" This is what I wanted; to lure them away from their familiar ground. I was grabbed by both elbows and pushed down a nearby alleyway. This was my chance.
Pulling the hidden sword from my robes, I rained blow after blow of righteous fury upon them. I shall write more tomorrow. Tonight I shall spend in prayer.
DO NOT FEAR! Lord of the Unreal has everything: all the letters, compiled images, videos, release dates, sources, etc. Check it out here: http://www.mtgfiction.com/2011/08/innistrad-viral-emails.html
HANWIER
We are cursed! I fear our beloved Hanweir is lost.No one comes to trade in our village.
The streets are empty
Might as well slit our throats and hand us over to the ghouls.
- Ekka
It is hereby decreed
On this 33rd day of Hunter's Moon
the area of the graveyard and especially
THE BLOOD-SOAKED GRAVE
is forbidden and furthermore
-DAILY-
CHUCH ATTENDANCE IS COMPULSORY
Until such time as the curse is deemed broken
by order of
Jurgen Garensun
The Mayor of Hanweir
******************************************
Geralf and Gisa
While I mourn the loss of the manor, you cannot say I did not warn you. Geralf is a simpering, insane idiot. If it had not been a fire, it would have been an explosion. You should have forbade his alchemical experiments years ago and locked him in the attic.
And no, he did not get the body parts from me. As you know, I would never share any choice bits with that priggish little snot. Maybe he stole them. I thought I recognized Meyer's severed arm. But he should not have been in the basement anyway. I have warned him many times to listen or I would cut off his ears.
It was around 3:30 when one of his second-rate skaabs came lurching into Mother's parlor. Father, it was laughably pathetic. It stumbled into the fireplace and lit the room ablaze. Poor little Geralf scampered about the room like a squirrel without even the brains to stamp out the sparks.
I wanted a baby sister! With a red ribbon in her hair. Why did you ruin our lives with HIM?
Your firstborn by an hour,
Gisa
45th of New Moon, Ava. 715
You taught me to speak frankly, and I have
always heeded your advice. It was Gisa’s fault.
She alone burned down our ancestral manor.
It pains me to reveal your only daughter’s true
nature. You always gave her the best in life,
far better than me. But I was happy to be
the shadow to her blazing sun.
You must not blame yourself that one of your
offspring (her!) took such a macabre interest in
the grave. Nor was it a tainted bloodline,
for I share that blood, and I have none of the
obsessions of ghoulcalling.
Here is the stark truth: I heard a bloodcurdling
scream coming from the basement. Gisa sprinted
up the stairs with a ghoul swiping at her
heels. I fought bravely as she cowered, but it
overcame me. It was only be sheer force of will
that I was able to carry Gisa out on my shoulders
as it smashed the room to bits -- the scraps
igniting a fire -- which sadly took the entire
manor.
Please father. Punish Gisa for her gruesomeness
must, but permit me back into the fold.
Your ever obedient son,
Geralf the Third
45th of New Moon, Ava. 715
Bishop Dartan:
This is the fourth letter I’ve sent to Thraben Cathedral in search of assistance. There will not be a fifth. Actually, I am hoping I live long enough to complete this letter.
On the west side of Trostad, near the graveyard, a vile ghoulcaller named Gisa practices her foul arts, raising the bodies of our loved ones into twisted undead horrors. On the east side of the city, her brother Geralf is holed up in some laboratory he has created inside the smithy. He is not just raising our ancestors whole, he is stitching together skaabs, some as tall as three men, bent on utter destruction.
They are fighting each other and they shall not stop! You must make them stop! Why are they fighting here? Our city is almost lost. Please, send cathars. All of them.
Jolen, mayor of Trostad
44th of Harvest Moon, Ava. 716
My dear Gisa,
Must you always cheat?
We AGREED on rules of conduct. The Five Laws of NecroWarfare:
1. No spontaneous awakenings.
2. No luring, killing, and raising of bystanders or livestock.
3. Combatants face off at a predetermined place and time.
4. Combatants must have at least three limbs to play.
5. Headquarters are off limits.
You cannot raise ghouls mid battle! You must send your army to meet me
in the valley. Do not flank me! Do not sneak up behind me!
Legless torsos do not count as soldiers. My skaabs have teeth marks
all over their legs from your draggy little meat sacks. Oh, I want my
sextant back. And do not come into my laboratory again!
You signed in blood. So it counts.
Geralf
56th of New Moon, Ava. 717
Must you always whine?
I agreed to nothing.
1. I shall raise ghouls anytime I wish. You are just mad because you
have to run back to your sewing maching while I can just whistle them
up from the grave.
2. If a farmer is stupid enough to check out a creepy light, then he
deserves to be killed with a shovel and become my servant.
3. A predetermined place and time? What is this, a tea party?
4. Those so-called “meat sacks” are models of efficiency. You cannot
even make a skaab walk without giving it 17 different body parts.
5. I didn’t take your stupid sextant.
As always, you lack the brains of an infant,
Gisa
58th of New Moon, Ava. 717
P.S. I never said it was my blood.
P.P.S I want Father’s book. Kill as many of my emissaries as you like.
I shall make more until you hand it over. And next time, they will be
bringing gifts.
I cannot abide your poor sportsmanship any longer.
I am adding a new rule to the Rules of NecroWarfare:
6. No magical swords.
If you have one, then I should have one. But, as you know, I DO NOT. I
implore you, sister. Your wretched sword ruins everything.
Geralf
********************************************
HELVAULT
SEAL THE COURTYARD
COVER THE WINDOWS
Of the angel’s loft
None may lay eyes on the
HELVAULT
without my leave.
Order of Mikeaus
To my esteemed fellows at Elgaud Academy
The nature of the Helvault confounds me!
It is absurd to call it a ruined monument.
As for a shard of silver moon, who dares call me a fool? We must implore the Lunarch for another viewing.
This mystery cannot elude us.
- H. Karlmahn
************************************************
PITRE THE THATCHER AND LORELEI GARENSUN
Farmer Roller,
You must cease the rumors about my daughter and that dim-witted thatcher!
I'd geist-lock Lorelai before I'll let her marry a buffoon like Pitre.
Jurgen Garensun
Mayor of Hanweir
IT IS HEREBY ANNOUNCED
On the 13th of Hunter's Moon
There shall be, in the town square
A FEAST
Of most delectable proportions
To honor our most famous
Town Hero!
Deliverer from Evil!
Vampire Killer!
Pitre
the Thatcher
Flowers and Laurels are welcome and expected.
Dearest Lorelei,
You will not understand why I am leaving, which is why I have left in the night, this letter being my only explanation.
The awful truth is that I have not earned the town's accolades. The vampire I killed was just a whelp who I caught unawares while he was feeding on the chickens.
He didn't even see me, and that's how I was able to take his head off with my spade. I do not think he ever knew what happened!
When I took the head to the mayor, I was set on telling him the truth. Once he saw the fangs poking out from the horrid thing's mouth, he started a big fuss, and before I knew it, he dragged me out into the square and announced my supposed victory to all.
I've been caught up in all this mess, and living with the truth has driven me to near madness. I'm going to Erdwald in Nephalia to find a real vampire, and kill it. I cannot live with myself, nor marry you, until I have fulfilled the destiny that has been attributed to me.
Yours,
Pitre
11th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
Dearest Lorelei,
It has been a harrowing journey, to be sure. Erdwald is so much
bigger than Hanweir! I fear my life has ill prepared me for such a
place as this.
I've been relieved of my meager kit by a gang of footpads that greeted
me at the town's gates, saying they were "inspectors." They were out
of sight before I realized they had fled with all I brought, save the
clothes on my back.
Fear not my love! For adversity is the soil in which opportunity
sprouts. I have taken in with the church, and they have greeted me
with open arms! A priest has given me food and shelter, and only asks
me to perform menial tasks in the upkeep of the church yards. It is a
job I am all too well suited for!
Yet Avacyn has a plan, even for me! My priest has also been
instructing me in the art of vampire hunting. I know it sounds
dangerous, and it is, but you can be assured that when I return, you
can hold your head up high as we march through the town in our wedding
procession!
Yours,
Pitre
14th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
Dearest Lorelei,
Day of days! My training is complete, and now I am on the trail of that most unholy of abominations — Vampire. The one I hunt is clever, there is no doubt. But I have faith on my side! Faith in Avacyn, faith in my training, and above all, faith in the truth that the blessed sleep is nothing compared to living a life with you.
Yours,
Pitre
23rd of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
Lorelei,
I fear I have undertaken too much. I am writing this in a small
tavern on the outskirts of town, and soon I will procure passage home,
disgraced.
The vampire I would hunt was only toying with me, and now I find
myself hunted. My only hope is to slip out of the thing's influence
and return to my humble beginnings.
I no longer hold any hope of returning as the man you deserve, so I
will be satisfied with being the thatcher whose services you may
sometimes require and nothing more. If I return at all.
And if I do not, remember me well.
Once yours but no longer,
Pitre
25th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
I knew it was the right thing to do, I knew it was what Pitre would have wanted. Beheading is the only way to keep someone from turning, and there was no way to be sure whether he had been bitten or not. But now my hands are forever stained, so I have decided to turn them over to Avacyn. For these reasons, and many more, I beseech you to admit me to your humble order. I have no reason to remain here in Gavony.
Your sister in Avacyn,
Lorelei.
************************************
RABEN (I suggest you read this section after the section on Pitre and Lorelei)
My son Raben,
I hope this letter finds you well. I heard of your victory in Kessig. Yes, many cathars fought at your side. But you were the strategist. The church is truly fortunate to have a warrior of your character and caliber.
I must call on you again, Raben. It's been awhile since I burdened you with a quest, perhaps you thought it was finally over. I know these missions are difficult and lonely. But they are crucial to our cause. It is absolutely necessary that you bring this evil weapon back to the church. As before, you are the only one that I trust with a matter of such delicacy.
The sword is named The Bloodletter. Flesh split by this blade never ceases to bleed, even after death. A demon has his eye on this sword. If he were to obtain it, it would mean the end of our church and our way of life.
Rumors of such a wound have reached my ears. The man's name was Pitre, and he hailed from Hanweir in Gavony. Discover where-and by whom-he was wounded, and follow the trail to The Bloodletter.
May Avacyn be with you on your journey.
Your loving father,
Jofridus
45th of Hunter's Moon, the year of Avacyn 719
60th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
This book was once a place of solace for me. A refuge. Now that its prayers have somehow faded from its pages, I cannot help but think that it is a sign that Avacyn has forsaken me.
My father has sent me on a mission for yet another of the weapons. I haven't the heart to tell him that each of these quests has proven to be near fatal. I cannot let him down is it heresy to say that I fear his disappointment more than Avacyn's?
He has given me the name of a village; Hanwier. After (2? a?) long journey, and a short battle with a band of brigands, I arrived this night to the shuttering of windows and closing of doors. Whether this place is cursed as its inhabitants believe remains to be seen. The curse of mistrust is flourishing however.
So this book, once a place I went to for enlightenment, now becomes a place that will hopefully enlighten others. For I have little doubt that this is my final sortie. If I do not return, I pray to Avacyn that this book finds its way home.
Father, if you are reading this, I am sorry for failing you.
Raben
61st of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
A most enlightening day, indeed.
The town, appearing most deserted, was in fact filled with cowering peasants. I presented my patents to the mayor, a fattened calf named Jurgen. He eyed the scroll and waxed seals nervously, then relented to their obvious authority.
He then proceeded to stammer out the story of a local thatcher who had returned to the village after a journey, bleeding and near death. Once he had reached the chapel, he fell dead at its doorstep.
What came next confirmed my suspicions that this was the man I was sent to find. The mayor led me to the graveyard, where a grave ringed in red dirt resided. This blood-soaked grave could only be the final resting place of the man who had been kissed by the blade I seek.
To the sheer horror of the humble townsfolk, I ordered his body exhumed. There was much protest, but the power of the church prevailed and the digging commenced. The work proceeded until dusk, when the worker's shovels at last clanked against wood.
The simple casket was saturated with blood, its timbers nearly falling apart. Once opened, a bloody tide poured forth, to the screams and gasps of the gathered locals. Floating within, the headless body of Pitre the Thatcher rested.
Just as Father had told, his wound continued to pump forth blood. It is no wonder the people of this town feel they are cursed. After sketching the message that had been carved into his flesh, I had his remains purified by fire. May Avacyn show him the mercy that this life did not.
Raben
62nd of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
The members of this village have been most begrudging in their assistance so far. I suspect this is due to my orders to exhume the poor thatcher, but it is something I have sensed since my arrival.
The only person who seemed to have any idea of where Pitre received his mortal wound was his betrothed, but she has fled the village to join a local monastery. After some pressure, her father finally allowed me to search her meager possessions.
It was in his letters to her that I have found my next destination: Erdwal, in Nephalia. Even as I write this, the stable-boy is preparing my horse and the house mother is packing my things. I haven't a minute to lose, as each that passes cools the trail.
Raben
75th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
I arrived in Erdwal two days ago. As distasteful as it may have been, I chose to use subterfuge to gain entrance to the town. Pitre's letters suggested that he had been accosted by thieves upon entrance; I therefore chose to enter on foot, wearing my tabard alone. To the complacent eye, I appeared to be a simple pilgrim or humble farmer, which is precisely the effect I wished to generate.
I was not disappointed.
The light of law has too many shadows in this town. No sooner had I entered that I was stopped by some grimy men wearing ragged uniforms that suggested their original owners had no further need for them.
I knew their greed would be my ally, so I had fixed a large pack to carry over my shoulder. Sure enough, this made me quite a target. They even abandoned their pilfering of a young woman to set their sights on me! Little victories such as this help feed my hungry soul.
"Halt!" their leader cried out to me. "Surrender your parcels for inspection!"
I stopped and said nothing. My silence was a noose that would trap them. The others surrounded me, and as their leader reached for my kit, I stiffened. This caused a ripple of fear to course through them, quickly hidden by their nervous laughter. These rogues were clearly not used to resistance.
"Fine. To the gaol with this one!" This is what I wanted; to lure them away from their familiar ground. I was grabbed by both elbows and pushed down a nearby alleyway. This was my chance.
Pulling the hidden sword from my robes, I rained blow after blow of righteous fury upon them. I shall write more tomorrow. Tonight I shall spend in prayer.
Raben
A deeper sleep I have never slept, but a sleep filled with frightening dreams I did not understand. A strangely dressed old man was angry with me.
As I had chronicled yesterday, the leader of the footpads survived our alleyway battle. I placed a food on his chest as he lay on the cobblestones, and pointed my sword at his neck. I then demanded the knowledge I sought.
Not wanting to give too much away, I began by asking about the thatcher, but this was a dead-end. He had assaulted so many that trying to get the details of one of his victims was futile. To speak of the cursed blade was too dangerous, especially to this one. I could justify killing the others, as they had clearly sought to end my life, but to kill this one as he lay in such a position of weakness could not be rectified. Of course, there was no reason for him to know this.
I pressed my foot into his chest and drew my blade back, intending to knock him unconscious. He turned his head in anticipation of the blow, and it was then that I saw it: the same mark that had been carved into Pitre's body. The mark of Thatu.
"Thatu" escaped my lips in pure astonishment, and the man's eyes grew wide with recognition. Seizing upon the moment, I said "Thatu sent me." Another transgression, but I pray a necessary one.
His lips curled in horror, and he finally gave me the information I needed to know.
Thatu has traveled to Stensia, to a place called Maalfeld. Stensia being a haven for Vampires, it is likely that he is one of them. The sword must be quite a treasure to his kind.
I left the wretch sleeping off his headache in the alleyway. May Avacyn show him the way.
Raben
83rd of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
Encountered a group of Falkenrath Marauders a two nights ago. I've been travelling by moonlight ever since crossing the border into Stensia, in order to be alert for nocturnal enemies.
A beautiful woman knelt, bleeding, in the middle of the road. I was suspicious, but the sound of her weeping bade my horse to stop, and I dismounted. It was then that the trap was sprung.
No less than 9 vampires descended upon from the trees, while the woman's weeping turned to laughter. I was outmatched and had little recourse but to tell them why I was here.
"My quarrel is with but one of you. I seek out the Vampire named Thatu, and the blade he carries."
Their jovial faces turned quite serious, and at this I held fears that I had said too much. A tense moment passed, then the leader nodded to his band and they departed as quickly as they had appeared. The woman stared at me, wide-eyed until she joined her cohorts in the inky blackness of the forest.
I do not know if these brigands communicate with each other, but I do know that the rest of my journey to Maalfeld was unhindered. Tomorrow, I enter Thatu's castle.
Raben
85th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
A sleepless night followed by a sleepless day. Last night I met the vampire named Thatu.
I found his estate to be suspiciously unguarded. The dust-riddled skeletons of dead vampires surrounded the entrance, their fanged skulls being the only evidence of their former immortality.
Father, I drew the sword you had made for me. Its sigils and lines brought a familiar comfort to this unholy place. My footfalls sounded like the march of a phalanx in the silence that surrounded me, and I was sure I would be beset upon at any moment.
I found him sitting at the end of a long, dark dining gallery, papers and books spread before him. Had I no knowledge of who he was, I might have taken pity on him. He seemed so small, sitting all alone in that massive room.
I could see the blade resting against his golden chair. Then, as if he could sense me eyeing his treasure, the creature leapt into the air and swung the sword at my chest.
The battle was hard-fought. I had learned in training that the first cut of a swordfight was the most painful. It was meant to inure us to the fear of the blade. I myself have been cut many times in battle. But now I could not allow even a single slice to get past my defenses.
His swings were wild and unfocused, and it was then that I realized he was fighting for his dignity, not for his life. For reasons I still cannot fully understand, this creature wanted me to kill him. Strangely, this revelation made him less of an enemy to me, but an enemy nonetheless.
I pray for Avacyn's forgiveness, for I obliged his wish. As he lay on the tiled floor looking up at me, he said words that haunt me still: "This is the blade that will kill your father. Bringing it to him will seal his fate!"
I was severely fatigued after the battle with the creature, but I had the presence of mind to confiscate some of its papers that lay spread out on the table. I knelt in prayer, thanking Avacyn for my victory, and then walked out as easily as I walked in. I do not pretend to understand these creatures, nor their enigmatic motives, but clearly I have been allowed entry into this realm, and I was allowed out.
I made camp a few hours ago, as the sun rose. I rifled through the pages I took from Thatu, trying to divine some meaning from their bombastic prose, when a single word leaped off the parchment and pierced my mind: Reika.
She was a fellow initiate at Elgaud, and was dismissed under charges of theft. I did not believe them at the time, for I had known her to be a gentle soul that was still fierce in battle. Has she fallen so far?
I must return to Erdwal and find her. I will give her the benefit of the doubt until I can hear her own account of things.
Raben
87th of Hunter’s Moon, Ava. 719
I arrived in Erdwal just past midday. I rode through the gates on horseback, wearing my Cathar’s tabard with my sword at my side. I saw the group that had accosted me upon my previous entry, though their leader, Thatu’s thrall, was nowhere to be seen.
Thoughts of Reika plague me. I cannot help but think that I could have done more to help her avoid the path that she is on. Perhaps if I had been a more attentive friend. Perhaps if I had returned her feelings.
In the end, each person’s soul is weighed alone, so I cannot bear hers as well as mine. She needs no help on the battlefield, so I cannot presume she needed my help before. But still, am I not here to hold up the worthy to Avacyn?
I shall begin the search in the morning, tonight I seek a cell in the odd structure that passes for a church in this town.
Raben
92nd of Hunter’s Moon, Ava. 719
The priest in this church has, I’m afraid, gone quite insane. He was overly joyed to see me, and he almost fell on his face in an attempt to welcome me to his church. Apparently he has not gotten a great many visits here.
He fills every moment he can with useless prattle about the gangs, and the vampire menace. Some people are a drain on the energies, and I must take care not to let him siphon more than he has.
That is not to say that he has been useless. He was able to start me on my hunt today which has, so far, proven quite fruitful. The priest directed me to a tavern called “The Wolf’s Head”, complete with the stuffed head of a dog over the bar for effect. The innkeeper had seen Reika, though he was elusive as to where. He seemed afraid to tell me the truth, and not even my standing as a Cathar seemed to sway him.
Fortunately - or rather, most unfortunately in the grand scheme of things - those who do not respect the church still respect the coin. He ushered me to a corner of the tavern, swore me to not reveal him as the source of my information, and then he told me about the pits.
Reika has apparently been captured, and is working off her debts by fighting in the pits for sport. I felt a strange sort of elation at this knowledge. I know where she is, and most importantly, I know she is safe.
Woe to the foolhardy pit fighter who would underestimate her!
Raben
93rd of Hunter’s Moon, Ava. 719
R Citizen Cane (Feldon of the Third Path)
http://twitter.com/#!/McCoreman/media/slideshow?url=http%3A%2F%2Ftwitpic.com%2F6c9o8f
Δε φοβάμαι τίποτα...
Είμαι Άνεργος.
Grimstringer on Cockatrice, add me if you wanna
This is the only one that got a pic on the Wizards feature article recapping the party. I remember that there was one that seemed like it related to Cloistered Youth (father saying he'd rather have his daughter "geist-locked" than marry a particular person) and one that seemed related to Travel Preparations (advice about traveling through the moors).
Edit: Looks like someone did get the letters from PAX! http://forums.mtgsalvation.com/showthread.php?t=352015
R Citizen Cane (Feldon of the Third Path)
R Citizen Cane (Feldon of the Third Path)
Suggestion: put the real-world date, and perhaps source link (for those where one exists) of these with each as they come rolling in? I appreciate the work you are doing, and its totally your call. Thanks
Johnny, born and raised. Always lookin' for the Next Level Combo. Thanks to Bornover of FHLS for the banner!
Mafia Results, Links, and Stats
Oh when I did that I got the Jorelda letter. So you can be sent either?
I haven't managed to track them all down myself so far so I'll be looking forward to checking back in on this thread regularly to see what new letters have been posted. This has got to be the most awesome flavor infusion for an upcoming set that I've seen since I started playing MtG a few years ago
Johnny, born and raised. Always lookin' for the Next Level Combo. Thanks to Bornover of FHLS for the banner!
Mafia Results, Links, and Stats
Random point of interest, the PAX Worldbuilding panel stated that the Helvault is the name of a massive slice of the silver moon that crashed into the landmass of Innistrad for some reason, enshrined at the Cathedral of Avacyn.
Past Ruminations
Links are broken, will fix in near future.
- Kaladesh
- Zendikar
- Rise of the Eldrazi
- Alara Reborn
- Innistrad <- Personal Favorite
- Dark Ascension
- Avacyn Restored
- Theros
- Return to Ravnica
- Tarkir
Hidden inside the large Korlash image found in the link above, I blatently stole this:
Dearest Lorelei,
Day of days! My training is complete, and now I am on the trail of that most unholy of abominations — Vampire. The one I hunt is clever, there is no doubt. But I have faith on my side! Faith in Avacyn, faith in my training, and above all, faith in the truth that the blessed sleep is nothing compared to living a life with you.
Yours,
Pitre
23rd of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
[email]rircarothma@gmail.com[/email]
_____________________________________________________________
(Auto-reply from [email]rircarothma@gmail.com[/email])
Rircarothma to me
show details 10:22 PM (6 minutes ago)
Dearest Lorelei,
It has been a harrowing journey, to be sure. Erdwald is so much
bigger than Hanweir! I fear my life has ill prepared me for such a
place as this.
I've been relieved of my meager kit by a gang of footpads that greeted
me at the town's gates, saying they were "inspectors." They were out
of sight before I realized they had fled with all I brought, save the
clothes on my back.
Fear not my love! For adversity is the soil in which opportunity
sprouts. I have taken in with the church, and they have greeted me
with open arms! A priest has given me food and shelter, and only asks
me to perform menial tasks in the upkeep of the church yards. It is a
job I am all too well suited for!
Yet Avacyn has a plan, even for me! My priest has also been
instructing me in the art of vampire hunting. I know it sounds
dangerous, and it is, but you can be assured that when I return, you
can hold your head up high as we march through the town in our wedding
procession!
Yours,
Pitre
14th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
--
twitter.com/brauerjosh
_______________________________________________________________
(Went to the twitter link and waited for a while. After about 30 seconds he posts a "new" tweet to
http://brauerjosh.blogspot.com/2011/08/writing-has-appeared-in-book.html
http://forums.mtgsalvation.com/showpost.php?p=7230396&postcount=118 <--where I stole it from.
Johnny, born and raised. Always lookin' for the Next Level Combo. Thanks to Bornover of FHLS for the banner!
Mafia Results, Links, and Stats
61st of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
A most enlightening day, indeed.
The town, appearing most deserted, was in fact filled with cowering peasants. I presented my patents to the mayor, a fattened calf named Jurgen. He eyed the scroll and waxed seals nervously, then relented to their obvious authority.
He then proceeded to stammer out the story of a local thatcher who had returned to the village after a journey, bleeding and near death. Once he had reached the chapel, he fell dead at its doorstep.
What came next confirmed my suspicions that this was the man I was sent to find. The mayor led me to the graveyard, where a grave ringed in red dirt resided. This blood-soaked grave could only be the final resting place of the man who had been kissed by the blade I seek.
To the sheer horror of the humble townsfolk, I ordered his body exhumed. There was much protest, but the power of the church prevailed and the digging commenced. The work proceeded until dusk, when the worker's shovels at last clanked against wood.
The simple casket was saturated with blood, its timbers nearly falling apart. Once opened, a bloody tide poured forth, to the screams and gasps of the gathered locals. Floating within, the headless body of Pitre the Thatcher rested.
Just as Father had told, his wound continued to pump forth blood. It is no wonder the people of this town feel they are cursed. After sketching the message that had been carved into his flesh, I had his remains purified by fire. May Avacyn show him the mercy that this life did not.
Raben
Please vote in Avatar and Signature Weekly Contest
R Citizen Cane (Feldon of the Third Path)
So from what I've read, here's my speculation...
Pitre killed a young vampire and the town thought him a hero. But he saw his victory as a fluke and went to train and kill a real vampire. From here I assume the vampire he ended up going after was Thatu, who was "clever" by signing whatever deal he speaks of in his letter. Thatu has the Sword that Raben wants. Thatu used the cursed blade on Pitre, who then (I assume) ran back to village dying. Jorelda cut his head off to keep him from turning, but that inadvertently let loose the "Blood Curse", which Raben confirms is the work of the blade he seeks.
Conclusion? The sword is a vampiric relic. it lets loose an infinite torrent of blood, which (in my opinion) would help the vampire feeding frenzies by quite a bit.
-ChenMaestro
Maybe each of the main Vampire families has a special sword related to Sangromancy.
Johnny, born and raised. Always lookin' for the Next Level Combo. Thanks to Bornover of FHLS for the banner!
Mafia Results, Links, and Stats
Since Sorin is a master of Sangromancy, perhaps the sword is his? Maybe he created/enchanted it? Maybe it's even the sword he's holding in the art for Dark Ascension.
Quick google translate. 99% sure this is new:
Another record is. What's going on ...
75-Day Month-Hunter, year Avatsin 719 th
I arrived in Erdvald two days ago. With the same disgust as always, I used a trick to get into the city. In letters Pitre mentioned that at the gate he encountered thieves, because I prefer to enter on foot, wrapped in a cloak. From the side I might seem a simple pilgrim, or a modest farmer, and this is exactly the effect I wanted to achieve.
I'm not mistaken.
Light of the law leaves too many shadows in this city. As soon as I approached, I was stopped several grinning men in ragged uniforms, on which is immediately obvious - the former owners, it is no longer needed.
I knew that their greed will be my ally, and laid them before a large knapsack on his back. Surely it would make me an ideal target. And it's true - they even have distracted from trying to rob some woman, barely noticing me. Small victories like that warm my frozen soul.
- Whoa! - Shouted one of them. - Open the bag check!
I silently stopped. My silence was a trap into which they were not slow to fall. Others around me, and as soon as my head reached for the knapsack, I pushed his hand away. This made them a surge of fear, which they quickly hid a nervous laugh. These crooks obviously not accustomed to resist.
"Well, in prison it!" This is what I sought - to entice them with familiar territory. I grabbed my elbow and dragged him to the nearest alley. This was my chance.
Pulling hidden under the cloak of a sword, I threw them on his righteous anger. The rest I'll write tomorrow. Today I will spend in prayer.
Raben
Here's the English version:
75th of Hunter's Moon, Ava. 719
I arrived in Erdwal two days ago. As distasteful as it may have been, I chose to use subterfuge to gain entrance to the town. Pitre's letters suggested that he had been accosted by thieves upon entrance; I therefore chose to enter on foot, wearing my tabard alone. To the complacent eye, I appeared to be a simple pilgrim or humble farmer, which is precisely the effect I wished to generate.
I was not disappointed.
The light of law has too many shadows in this town. No sooner had I entered that I was stopped by some grimy men wearing ragged uniforms that suggested their original owners had no further need for them.
I knew their greed would be my ally, so I had fixed a large pack to carry over my shoulder. Sure enough, this made me quite a target. They even abandoned their pilfering of a young woman to set their sights on me! Little victories such as this help feed my hungry soul.
"Halt!" their leader cried out to me. "Surrender your parcels for inspection!"
I stopped and said nothing. My silence was a noose that would trap them. The others surrounded me, and as their leader reached for my kit, I stiffened. This caused a ripple of fear to course through them, quickly hidden by their nervous laughter. These rogues were clearly not used to resistance.
"Fine. To the gaol with this one!" This is what I wanted; to lure them away from their familiar ground. I was grabbed by both elbows and pushed down a nearby alleyway. This was my chance.
Pulling the hidden sword from my robes, I rained blow after blow of righteous fury upon them. I shall write more tomorrow. Tonight I shall spend in prayer.
Raben
Please vote in Avatar and Signature Weekly Contest
From what I can make out of the inscribed words, they say "The accord has been broken - The night belongs to me once again"
R Citizen Cane (Feldon of the Third Path)