Back when I was content lead at Spellborn Works, I created multiple ‘mood pieces’ to reflect upon the universe of “The Chronicles of Spellborn”. These texts were written at a conceptual level, to provide artists and fellow designers with an idea of how the game world behaved on its own. This text was actually rather close to getting in the game. It was meant as a prologue of sorts to helping recruit Lerrick in the starting zone. The idea was to let the player pick these pages up on his own accord as he progressed. Unfortunately the bankruptcy shot that idea to pieces.
Mum said I needed to go to Parliament. If I ever wanted to see dad again, that was the only route I could take. But I don’t really want to become a member of the Enclave Militia. Mum keeps banging on about becoming a High House member and how that’ll allow me to use any shardship I want. I can’t do anything with that. Dad won’t be there anyway. Then she started saying I needed work, and the only way to do that is to become a High House member. That sounds wrong. Dad wouldn’t have agreed with it.
I love mum so much, but today she said she already enlisted me for the Enclave Militia. “Just in time, because tomorrow the recruitment ship will already leave for Parliament.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say mum is trying to get rid of me.But that’s silly.
There are fifty recruits on board this giant shardship. It’s so large it even has large ballistas on it! I never saw that before. We all waved goodbye at the docks. Some people there were crying and screaming, but my mum was stronger, she just waved me goodbye, even though my eyes welled up. No worries, the Militia men told me. I can go see her anytime I want after I become a citizen. It’s always good to have a goal, dad said. So that’s what I’ll do then.
The ship took off into the Deadspell Storm. Some got stormsick, but I liked it. It feels fresh here, not like the stench that hangs about the Pit District. It’s even fresher than the air at the Graveyard! Some of the sailors say I may have been one of them in a previous life. They say I’m not a pure ‘shardlight’. Makes me happy as that’s what dad used to say as well.
After I finished writing last evening, the sailors came to me and took me along to see if I were a true stormlover. They fed me some drink but I spat it out as it was bitter and burning my throat. They all laughed very hard at this, but said that was to be expected. The drink was called Lesser Rum and they gave me a pitcher of the stuff. I’m starting to think dad may have been a sailor as well. He also drank it. So that settled it for me and I drank the entire pitcher in one go to get rid of it. Apparently they never saw a shardlight do that before, so I’m officially one “odemfolks”. (Might need to ask Briggy about that word again.) They gave me another pitcher
Today my mouth feels dry and my stomach feels painfully empty, even after the breakfast we got. The sailors all wave or smile at me and ask if my head hurts. It doesn’t, but I feel slightly dizzy. Hopefully I’m becoming more like dad.
We had more of that rum last night. Some other recruits were there as well and they all got rum as well, they also didn’t like it, but didn’t want to drink any more. That’s when Briggy asked me to show them how to drink it. Everybody started cheering as I began drinking, which was great! I finished the pitcher in one go again, like the time before. And they all shouted and clapped their hands after I finished up!
The other recruits were amazed. Briggy grabbed hold of one of them and another sailor (Hirrol?) started pouring the rum into his mouth. He didn’t like it, so I yelled that he just had to keep swallowing, and within moments everybody was chanting “DRINK! DRINK!” When they let go of him, he spat the rum out again, but for some reason they didn’t give him another pitcher. Instead he kept coughing and limped away together with the other recruit. They gave me his pitcher instead.
My head hurt a bit when I got up this morning and I feel very tired.