Handouts som delats ut

Här nedan redovisas alla handouts som gruppen fått ut.

Sista sidan i Janus journal, skriven på gammelgrekiska (medeltidens grekiska har genomgått två stora förändringar sen man använde den form som Janus tycks ha skrivit i):

In the year of our lord 1197

Chorazin might have been the most ambitious, orchestrated and costly path to redemption. But great men ponder great things, though as I have discovered not always right. It is about acceptance not proving anything to anyone beside yourself. How can my nature have hidden this simple truth from me for millennia? Maybe that was my suspire. Maybe I'm free. Maybe I deserve to be free. Wherever the sun chars my body, condemns me to purgatory or simply blinds my eyes, my eyes will be open once again.


Ett Theology+Int har ytterligare givit er följande kring namnet Chorazin:
Chorazin, along with Bethsaida and Capernaum, was named in the New Testament gospels of Matthew and Luke as "cities" (more likely just villages) in which Jesus performed "mighty works". However, because these towns rejected his work ("they had not changed their ways" -Matt11:20SV), they were subsequently cursed (Matthew 11:20-24; Luke 10:13-15). Due to the condemnation of Jesus, some early Medieval writers believed that the Antichrist would be born in Chorazin.

Två stentavlor funna i Janus krypta. Den ena saknar det nedre högra hörnet. Båda innehåller simpla symboler som föreställer djur och andra primitiva saker. Ingen av er har ännu lyckats identifiera språket. Urnan i kryptan hade skrift på samma språk.

Början av journalen är skriven på klassisk latin och ni har tytt de avsnittet. Nästkommande delar är skrivna på etrustiska (vilket kronologiskt användes före klassisk latin).

The memories, even mine own feel alien to me. Like a tale, tragic and unreal. Even so I try to recall who I was. I can't remember the sun, nor my mother's tender embrace, everything is bleak and even my first years in darkness slips into blissful oblivion.

I have no records reminding me, even so I'm sure I were Nata-Nata, in the beginning. I hunted the stripped animals of the prairie, stalked the wild folks of ancient deserts and I were a god. I wandered cities lost even to the scribes of Alexandria and I practiced diplomacy with the flood-touched monsters some of us call parents.

[här tycks en del sidor vara utryckta]

That century I ran with the childes of Seth. I was their chieftain and I took whatever I wanted. I sired three children. The twin hunters were as my own sons as if brought forth between my lovers loins. They made proud, at the time. My third childe was my obsidian childe bride, sweet and innocent, even in undeath. After a while I slew her and embraced her sister. Her family brought me brides for a hundred years. I was content.

I took pride in my superior martial prowess. I traveled the world in search for my match, to no avail.

I joined the host of Sam-hail to showcase my abilities in battle. I was Abbadon and I destroyed the spawns of Shai-tan. I learnt what it meant to have a "third eye". Though for that I didn't see any clearer. My arrogance had stained me and in my supposed redemption I wore the name Muriel.

De senaste var nya för mig! Vem är den elake hamstraren av handouts? Vem vill inte att gruppens hjälte skall veta dessa hemligheter?

Vindmusen skrev:De senaste var nya för mig! Vem är den elake hamstraren av handouts? Vem vill inte att gruppens hjälte skall veta dessa hemligheter?

Den store Fernao har icke missat något! Ni fick aldrig den handouten på spelmötet, men jag tyckte det var enklare för er att läsa här än att brottas om en lapp. Det inledande stycket var dessutom det som var enklast för er att förstå.

Journalen fortsätter på en äldre form av latin och tycks vara skrivet en tid efter den inledande text ni sen tidigare översatt.

Muriel was a man that I both despise and lust for. His life was filled with purpose unlike any I had before or after. In a way he helped me define the confines of enlightenment. Japheth was intrigued by him and I found my way back into the Ashur'ya ('ya är antagligen något som hör till ett namn, jmf Sir/Lord/Sama, men inget ni kan vara säkra på). I was still a warrior and a hunter, that is at the core who I am, but now I burned with the flames that would purge the world clean. I took it upon myself to rid the world of the follies of Semyasa. I saw the truth and I walked the path set by Samiel. For a time he felt more like a brother than any of mine own. Exactly how the following centuries were spent are my first clear memories.

When the demon progeny were all banished I slept the deep sleep for the first time. I dreamt of my father and my brothers. I felt a longing for the ancient days, of solitude in the wild. Then an Angel visited my dreams. We traveled the Umbra in search for what evil truly is at its core. Samiel awoke me and we continued the search on earth. We cut bloody swathes through any corruption we could find. We exacted justice, we were angels of retribution and we punished the wicked! It must have been Elool-Ilol of the second millennia when we witnessed King Dungi's ziggurat and height of Ur. We did service to the king and we were exalted beyond mere heroes, we were warrior-gods in the eyes of the people. Our names ring true even today, a testament to our might. And it was here that we both ended up putting down our swords. Together we slept in Ur and when we awoke the city were abondoned. It was a new world. But before that we crossed seas and gave battle to the far corners of the world, only when our goal was reached could we rest. Oh, how wrong we were.

The East

We left in what we thought was the footsteps of father Caine. We sought the promised land of fabled Nod and further.