Divinity: Original Sin Kickstarter Update #4, $267,234 and Counting
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As I dip my quill in ink as black as my thoughts, the sun is casting its last fading rays upon this troubled realm of Rivellon, and I'm quite certain I shall need to light a candle before I can set to paper all of the day's most important happenings.
It was late in the afternoon as I arrived on the island.I have always hated sea travel, and these storms are playing toss-ball with my stomach. I headed for the remains of Blackrock Citadel, but just when I observed its toppled towers in the distance, I stumbled rather ungracefully over some obstacle in my path. I cast an angry glance back at what I assumed would be the impudent branch that caused a wizard to lose his balance, but to my surprise I beheld not a log, but a lizard - a dead one as a matter of fact. By a mark upon his person (if one knows where to look) I immediately perceived him to be a Source Hunter. My guess is he died as he sought to escape the recent onslaught that befell his headquarters.
Next to him I spied a bag that upon inspection turned out to contain a missive written by none other than the Grandmaster himself. The light it shed upon the matter - if any led me to deduce that he was in no way aware of any imminent attack on Blackrock Citadel. Here are the contents of the letter, which I shall copy in full.
(Sire,
My name is Thorgal Bloodfurst. I know you know who I am...
First of all, let me express my deepest condolences for the death of your father. His passing is a loss to us all, but if his dark demise has a silver lining, surely it must be your ascendancy to the throne, wherefore I congratulate you heartily. I express the fond hope that your first endeavour as king will be to expose and execute the lowly assassins that killed our late ruler. Whereas I usually abstain from mingling in the intricate and often brutal political affairs of the Civilised Races, I am deeply shocked by this savage murder nonetheless.
But now, my lord, to business. I need hardly call to memory the blood-oath you have sworn afore the Council, and I should like to remind you of its solemn vows of secrecy. The information I am about to share with you must be yours alone to keep, and may death catch up swiftly with those who wrongfully learn of the confidences I am about to impart.
Until this letter reaches you, my king, you will have been blissfully unaware there exists a sordid, secret form of malignant magic that gives its wielders power and access to the very fabric of reality... and beyond. This devilish sorcery is in essence the unification of all that is magic and as such can be considered to be the source of all wizardry. This is the magic the gods wield; magic that creates and destroys; magic that has no like. Those few who partake in its precarious splendours call it The Source.
Know though, your majesty, that The Source is incredibly volatile and ultimately dangerous. Never should it be used by us mere mortals!
Indeed, so strong are the powers manipulated by Source wielders that they risk to be consumed completely by those same powers they foolishly believe they exert control over. The results of such consumptions could well spell catastrophe, and perhaps if the soul of the devoured wielder is powerful enough could possibly even lead to the unravelling of nature itself! For if one fools around light-heartedly with that which binds all existence, one risks the unbinding of existence as well.
You may think I am giving in to hyperbole, sire, because after all, does not demon magic also abound? And are there not hosts of necromancers that wield it just the same without succumbing to its infernal influences? A strong mind may resist corruption, yes, but in the case of the Source things are quite different. Many prophecies foretell that from the Source, Chaos will spawn: Chaos, the herald of the End Times!
Prophecies, as we know, predict many possible futures, but only one from the tens of thousands that have flown in dread whispers from the Temple of Prophets, anticipates that Chaos will not spell the universe's end. I am not a gambling man, sire, but these are odds I do not like.
Only one prophecy among so very many...
One that requires unseen heroics to realise...
It is a gamble I would not take!
And yet... And yet the citadel I administer - proud Blackrock! - forms part of the Council of Seven's attempt to ensure the One Prophecy will be our future! Within its walls you will find battle mages; warriors; farseers; riftrunners, and I do not exaggerate when I say it is they who stand between oblivion and the continued survival of the Seven Races. These brave men and women scour the realm in search of accursed Source practitioners. When they are found, they are never seen again. Our enemies call us Source Hunters, and well they should! They whisper of us with quivering voices and when they look into our eyes they know they are as helpless as a deer surrounded by wolves. And yet even you, one of the royal family, have never heard of these relentless hunters, which attests to how well-trained, efficient and always lethal they are.
But now that you are king, your path and that of a Source Hunter may sometimes cross, which is why I am informing you of their existence. Even at court, surreptitious Source users can sometimes be found - only to be removed.
So remember your blood-oath, sire, and take to heart full well the following rules:
- As decreed by the Council of Seven, we are NEVER to be interfered with.
- We are to be given ANY assistance we ask for.
- We are to be OBEYED without questioning; without faltering.
I am told you are an intelligent man, my lord. I trust my message is clear, and I furthermore wish you a fruitful reign. If you follow our rules, I don't see why you shouldn't do better - or at least last a little bit longer - than your unfortunate father...
Yours kindly and sincerely,
Signed: Thorgal Bloodfurst, Grandmaster of Blackrock Citadel"
