The Books of Virtue, recovered thus far

[Garak Nightchill]

(The Books were all written between Mondain's death and UO going 'live')

The Book of Honour

By Redren Mallor

   
   "To thee, Lord Randall, I vow fealty and shall serve thee fully and wholly.  I, Guy du Bois, so swear on my life and honour."  The paladin knelt, both hands resting on the pommel of his sword as it's tip rose up from the chipped flagstone.
   Lord Randall looked down gravely and nodded once.  Tapping the squire's shoulders with his ceremonial sword he solemnly replied, "And thus do I accept thy service, Guy du Bois, and knight thee accordingly.  Thou didst kneel as a squire.  Now rise as a Paladin of Trinsic.  Rise, Sir Guy and do thy duty."
   Guy slowly got to his feet and with the cheers of the assembled warriors ringing in his ears, he joined the ranks of the paladins before him, humbly accepting their congratulations. 
   That ceremony done, Lord Randall faced the assembled knights and warriors.  "Our King hath given us a mission, a mission of vital importance.  Despite the stability he hath brought to the realm, there are still those who oppose our Liege, Lord British and his newly instated Virtues.  To the south of Trinsic, a group of these rebels have assembled.  We are to investigate and if necessary, end the threat.  Our friends from Jhelom shall patrol the lands near Trinsic whilst I lead my knights southward to investigate this encampment.  And take whatever action I deem necessary."

Several days later, Lord Randall and his Household knights approached the rebel camp.  Giving their horses time to rest, a scout was sent to investigate the camp.  When she returned, her report made it clear the camp, whilst heavily guarded, was not military in nature.  Families worked and seemed determined to make it a permanent settlement.  But Lord Randall was displeased at the thought of a settlement of potential enemies near his lands, which were situated just south of Trinsic.  The thought of battle seemed to excite him and he assembled his knights.
   "My loyal knights!  We have found our enemy.  And in the name of the King, we shall crush them!  No prisoners."
   The scout, a Ranger from Skara Brae, was shocked.  As was Sir Guy.  She tried to remonstrate with Lord Randall but he rebuffed her.  Realising the futility, she vowed to report the Lord's actions to the King and made as if to leave.  The lord made a curt gesture and one of his knights cut her down. 
   Lord Randall turned to his knights.  "You heard the order! Mount up and prepare to charge.  Everyone of you is sworn to me, I expect and require you to do your duty!" 

The knights mounted and formed a wedge.  Then they charged.  Sir Guy would never forget the ensuing slaughter.  Even the unarmed were butchered without mercy, the camp taken by surprise and unable to withstand heavy cavalry.  At first, Sir Guy was careful to attack only those bearing arms but a young woman broke free from the carnage and tried to flee.
   Lord Randall saw her.  "Sir Guy, ride her down!" 
   Guy froze, hesitating. 
   "Ride her down I said!  Do thy duty, Sir Knight!"
   
Guy charged, quickly caught up with the fleeing woman, and with merciful quickness, bludgeoned her with his sword, killing her in a heartbeat.

As the knights rode home, Lord Randall commanded them to silence, claiming what they did was in the best interests of the Crown, but by necessity would need to be kept secret.  Sir Guy was torn.  Justice demanded he report the slaughter, but he was oathsworn to Lord Randall and his Honour demanded he obeyed his lord in all things.  He kept his silence. 

Lord Randall's madness grew stronger and eventually came to the notice of the King, the slaughters and brutaility reported by another of Randall's knights, one who could keep his silence no longer.  Eventually his fort was stormed by the King's soldiers and Randall was hung, most of his knights slain.  Among the survivors was Sir Guy, who was imprisoned, but never once betrayed his lord, regretting only that he had pledged himself to a tyrant.

Thus endeth the tale of Honour.


 

[Garak Nightchill]

The Book of Compassion

By Redren Mallor


The bard hurried out of the tavern, not running but not exactly walking either.  He had spent the past few hours playing his harp and singing his songs.  For the past several years he had sung in this tavern, his songs not quite heroic but not quite villainous either.  A somewhat moderate stance seemed to win him the most patrons.  But such neutrality was but a pose, something known to few of the bard's acquaintances.

His name was Connor Conradson.  And his tale was a tragedy of bitterness and redemption.  Connor and his friends came from relatively well-to-do families and as children were not overly burdened with labour.  Then one day the stranger appeared.  He was a bold knight, fearless yet friendly.  Or so he appeared. 

Over several days spoke to the youths, entertaining them with tales tall and improbable, but never for a moment did they dare question his integrity, swallowing every word whole.  Then one day it all changed, Connor's life with it.

The self-proclaimed knight appeared at the normal time as expected.  But he seemed distant, surly even.  The youths joked and teased as usual, awaiting the usual tale.  But it was not to be.  The warrior roared without warning, and drew a savage looking mace.  Without provocation and without mercy he attacked, swinging his gruesome weapon mercilessly, striking down the bard's friends one by one, smashing skulls and splintering bones.  The bard himself was knocked senseless.

He awoke to find his friends slain and vowed justice.  For years he wandered the land seeking the supposed knight but to no avail.  He survived through song and story, juggling and jesting, never resting.  And then one day his life of restlessness paid off.  He found his man.

The murderer was staying at an inn in Britain, a man of respectable if not profitable means.  By chance the bard was staying in the same inn and recognised his friends' slayer.  The murderer recognised him not at all.  All evening and into the early hours of the morning the bard played, as flawlessly as ever.  All throughout the evening his eyes barely moved from the murderer, the man upon whom he had promised justice.  Finally the slayer, now elderly, left the inn, seeking air.

The bard put up his instruments and followed, a small but lethal crossbow cradled in his arms.  He quietly crept after the murderer, following him outside.  Espying his target, he took aim, the bolt pointed unerringly at the murderer's back.  And he paused.  For the man was with a young girl.

 "Father!" yelled the young girl happily.  Affectionately the murderer took the girl into his arms and hugged her as a father would his child.  The girl was plainly yet warmly dressed, and clearly doted on the man.  Slowly, hiding his crossbow beneath his cloak, the bard approached the murderer and murmered his greetings.

For several minutes the two conversed, the bard discovering that the murderer was now the sole guardian the the girl, an orphan.  The bard paused, torn between his desire for Justice against his friends' killer, and Compassion for the girl, whose only family was that self-same killer.  He made his decision.  Quietly uncocking his crossbow, he wandered off, remaining in Britain as a bard and storyteller.  Every few months, the killer, now a merchant, visited the city with his adopted daughter in tow, who grew well and healthily. 

Thus endeth the tale of Compassion.

[Garak Nightchill]

The Book of Sacrifice,

By Redren Mallor


In Minoc, City of Sacrifice there once lived a family of tinkers.  For three generations they had maintained a blacksmith and tinkers shop, the eldest son always inheritating.  The patriarch of the father at this time was a Rory McCarron.  His eldest son was called Josef, his youngest Derrick. 

Josef, as eldest, was raised from earliest childhood as the heir to the family business.  The youngest, Derrick dreamed of a life of Valour, soldiering in Lord British's army.  He was supported in this by his family. 

For several years he trained with the Minocian guards, learning swordsmanship.  At the age of sixteen he enrolled in the the Britain town Guard and at the age of twenty became one of Lord British's Order Guards.  A bright future seemed certain.

But then tragedy struck the family.  Josef died in a cave-in whilst mining.  Their father, Rory, already an old man and weary after a lifetime of toil, sent a letter to Derrick declaring him the heir to the business and the future patriarch of the family.  Derrick was now torn between his duty to his family and his desire to fight for Lord British. 

He thought on it long and hard, a life of monotony running a shop, or a life of glorious battle.  To do his duty by his family he must sacrifice his career in the Order Guard, or abandon his family for a life of Valour. 

In the end he chose Sacrifice over Valour, resigned his position in the army and returned to Minoc where he learned the trade of blacksmithing and tinkering from his ailing father, producing many fine weapons and tools for the rest of his life.

Thus endeth the tale of Sacrifice.

[Garak Nightchill]

The Book of Humility

By

Redren Mallor


Far to the south of Vesper lies the island of Magincia.  This island was once the refuge of a community of shepherds who struggled to raise their sheep on the shores, fending off the occasional pirate raid from the Bucanneers Den.  But nothing stays the same.  A diamond mine was discovered on the island and many of the community soon abandoned their flocks for the lure of easy wealth.  The island became renowned for its wealth and soon grew into a bustling city of splendour, fine-looking buildings appearing on the fields where the shepherds once grazed their flocks.  Whilst still officially known as the City of Humility, 'tis increasingly apparent that the City of Pride may be more appropriate.

Not all the shepherds turned to commerce however.  One such shepherd boy, by the name of Tom, continued to raise his meagre flock on the few areas of the island suitable for such endeavours, selling the wool and mutton to the haughty merchant princes of the city.  Content with his lot in life, Tom continued working and living on an island that had changed beyond all recognition.  In time he married and had a son named John, raising him as he had been raised.  But John felt envious of his peers, the sons and daughters of the merchants and nobles, strutting around in their fine clothes treating him as little more than a begger.

One fateful day, as Tom and John Shepherd were tending to the flock near the sea, a reaver ship from the Bucanneers Den landed and it's pirates swarmed ashore.  Two guards, named Gaius and Octavian, saw the raiding party.  Gaius ran to the city to raise the alert leaving Octavian to watch the pirates, hidden behind a tree. 

The pirates brashly approached the terrified shepherds and searched them roughly for gold, which they did not have.  Tom meekly allowed the search, hoping the pirates would leave them be.  Even when the pirates seized three of their sheep the two shepherds did nothing.  But angered by the lack of gold, the pirate captain ordered his men to seize the boy as a slave.  Praying for nothing more than the chance to buy his son some time to flee, Tom attacked the nearest pirate with his crook, taking them by surprise.  As the first pirate fell, Octavian ran out, blade drawn, and attacked the pirates.

The pirates were as tough as any that sailed the ocean but the unexpected resistance and the sudden appearance of a guard soon put them to flight, but nay before Octavian slew one of the fleeing pirates and Tom had stunned the pirate captain with his crook.  Having taken several minor wounds and overcome with terror, Tom collapsed to his knees and Octavian killed the dazed captain with his sword, just as the other guards arrived.  Seeing the bodies of three pirates, including the captain, they reached the wrong conclusion that Octavian had killed them all and hailed him as a hero for slaying the feared pirate captain.  Dazed by the attention, he did not contradict them.  Outraged, the shepherd's son John opened his mouth but was silenced by a look from his father. 

Tom Shepherd found himself torn between Honesty and Humility. Honesty demanded he correct the guards, letting them know it was he who had defeated two of the pirates.  But his Humble nature was content to let the guard take the credit since he, Tom, would know in his heart who had done the deed, and glory was not something he sought after. 

Choosing Humility over Honesty, and Ignored by the guards, Tom and John gathered their flock and returned home.

Tom's tale should end here but alas it does not.  Some years later, disobeying his father, John told a visiting noble the story and one day Tom was summoned to Minoc by ship.  He reached Minoc safely but the ship returning him to Magincia was captured by pirates, the fate of the crew and passengers unknown.  His son John soon abandoned the family livelihood of shepherding and started a small merchant company, which thrived.

Thus endeth the tale of Humility.

[Garak Nightchill]

The Book of Honesty

By Redren Mallor

In the city of Moonglow there lived a young apprentice mage named Tobus.  This city was a gathering place for mages, and Tobus aspired to learning this arcane art.  He persevered in his studies at the Lyceaum and eventually gained the attention of an archmage named Ronan Firespring, a knowledgable but vain and prickly man.  The archmage took Tobus under his wing and taught him much of magery.

One day the pair travelled to Britain, as Lord British's mage, Nystul, was giving a lecture.  They arrived easily, using their arts, and rented a room at the inn.  Ronan was eager that the pair look their best, as he hoped to impress Nystul and gain an appointment at the castle.  He spent a lot of his coin on brand new robes and hats for the pair, sparing no expense.

The evening of the ball arrived and the pair dressed in their finery and attended the castle. Britain impressed Tobus, but he was in a dilemma.  Ronan was a fine mage, but his tastes in fashion were not so well-developed.  Ronan thought the pair looked impressive; Tobus thought they looked comical.

They arrived at the Ball and socialised with the other guests, most of whom struggled to hide a smile at the elderly Ronan in his garish orange robe.  As the guests got more and more drunk, one made a comment about the robe.  Incensed, Ronan beckoned for Tobus to attend, and defend the robe.

Tobus was in a dilemma.  He was loyal to Ronan, and struggled between being kind and defending the robe, or being honest and giving his true opinion on it.

He chose Honesty over Compassion, and offended Ronan.  He was cast out as an apprentice and spent the next several years struggling to learn the arcane arts on his own. 


Thus endeth the tale of Honesty.

[Garak Nightchill]

The Nine Swords

By Carrick Freeman

The Fall of Mondain and the Shattering of the world still lingered in the minds of the people.  The great evil was gone but Lord British, the King of Britannia, needed something to give the people focus, a goal to strive for.  He gave them the Eight Virtues.

Not content with spreading the Virtues across the land, he ordered the construction of eight shrines, one for each Virtue.  Many of his courtiers dedicated their lives to the virtues and one such group strove to take it even further.  A sage of Lord British's Court, Redren Mallor, was sent out to locate a paragon of each Virtue, a man or woman who particularly embodied one such virtue.  It took him a year, chasing rumours and tales, but eventually he located eight such people and wrote a short tome on each of them and their suitability.  These people were diverse indeed;  A humble shepherd, a smith who sacrificed a warrior's life of valour to run his family's trade, a paladin imprisoned for holding to his honour above even the law, oathsworn to a lord who turned out evil.   

Redren Mallor, Canton de Guise and the eight Paragons met in the frontier town of Minoc.  Once there eight swords were forged and each one imbued with the blood of a Paragon and sealed with to that paragon's Virtue with spells of binding.  The swords were then placed in the care of that Paragon with the intention of each sword one day being sanctified at the Shrines that were being constructed.  Individually each sword was no more than a sharp piece of metal.  But once sanctified, and brought together, they would embody the power of the Virtues. 

But not all agreed with Lord British and his Virtues.  Indeed, his old friend Lord Blackthorn opposed him in this endeavour.  Not content with opposing the eight shrines with his own Chaos shrine, he sought to oppose the eight swords too.  And thus a ninth sword was constructed.  Over time the swords became forgotten, either lost in battle or left to gather dust in an armoury.  The swords were, in truth, a folly.  Had they been sanctified then much good might have come about, but instead they remained open to corruption.  And one such sword fell victim to this fate.

Lord Blackthorn, perhaps through jealousy or greed, fell from grace.  His philosophy of Chaos had proved an ideal foil against the threat of Order becoming totalitarion, despite the skirmishes between the Order and Chaos guards.  But Lord British vanished and Lord Blackthorn began to feel he should be King.  And one such being offered him the chance.  Exodus.  This mysterious entity corrupted Blackthorn with the promise of power.  Just as his spirit was corrupted with greed, his flesh was corrupted with vile machinery.  The abomination that arose from the mangled limbs of a man had betrayed his own goal.  Instead of promoting freedom through Chaos, he now sought to use Chaos to replace Lord British's Order with his own.  The Sword of Chaos, linked to Blackthorn, turned black in that instant, corrupted.  One of the Chaos Guards who travelled to Ilshenar to become of the Chaos Dragoons took the sword with him.  Whether it reached it's master is unknown.  When Blackthorn was eventually slain the sword was not on his body.

The threat presented by Blackthorn's sword is now clear to us.  With one or two possible exceptions the Virtue Paragons are dead and thus cannot refute their Virtue, which would corrupt their sword likewise.  But with the Sword of Chaos in their possession, a nefarious individual or group could ruin any of the unsanctified swords of Virtue.  It is theorised that such a sword could be corrupted simply by taking it to the Chaos Shrine with the Chaos sword and uttering the relevant virtue's mantra backwards.  With all nine swords scattered, the threat of all swords becoming corrupt is faint indeed.  Should a majority of the swords become corrupt then the consequences could be dire indeed.  Should a majority of the swords be sanctified then the threat will hopefully be nullified.