It was dark that night, and the kingdom was in turmoil after the loss of the Kings’ son. The Cult was killing people off, too many to count.
Written by the Prince
I’ve been filling in for the executioner after he died, the first death to kick things off. If my father knew… doesn’t matter a whole lot. Drastic measures must be taken.
I interrogated someone last night. The Butler. He might’ve been the one to poison the mead that killed the executioner. But i doubt it — he’s a good friend. More likely it’s someone else.
In a moment of weakness, alone at all sides, i approached my friend, the Knight. I trust him — man of honour, known him for years. I told him what I had been doing. Who I suspected.
Together, we’ll restore the Court.
Written by the Sorceror
I sense a turmoil rolling onwards, washing over me. Blood. Only one will survive.
I saw the Knight talking to the Prince yesterday. Seems useless.
I heard rumours that the Cult were targeting me tonight. But I refuse to hide. I’m detonating my bombs tonight.
The rest of the page is burnt.
Written by the Seeker
The Newcomer walked into the court, leaning on his staff. “Too late to join the party?” He grinned.
He didn’t look like much. He was wearing a travelling cloak and no jewellery. He was no Prince. He was no King. He was useless.
However, the Cult eyed him. They recognised magical prowess in his blood. Their Mastermind would talk to him that night. The stranger had power.
But for now, it was necessary to keep the Court from talking to him.
Only the Seeker felt apprehensive. He didn’t trust him. He had a feeling he wouldn’t flip. And by that point, he would kill them all.
What happens next? As more diaries are found, it will put together an… interesting story.