As soon as I gathered my bearings, I knew this vision would be different than all the others. A harsh acrid smell clings to my nostrils and I instantly feel a longing for the natural smells of the island. A blast of hot dry air to my right-hand side distracts me from the smell by threating to knock me to the ground. Turning to its source, I come across a large metal structure radiating light to the entire room. An obscure figure in the corner then begins pounding upon an anvil with enough force to bring the ceiling down us. The harsh crashing sound of metal upon metal is jarring to ears and sends vibrations passing through me. Slowly acclimatising to the sounds and smells, I come to realisation that this is a smithery and the blast of air came from the forge.

Heading closer for a look, I recognise the shape of an almost completed sword being hammered on the anvil. Its dim glow betraying that it had just been removed from the forge. Recognising that the process of forging takes a long time, I get comfortable upon a chair close to the anvil. Finally, content with his masterpiece, the smith drops the weapon into a bath of indeterminate oil rendering a cloud of vapours. The tension in the room immediately escalates as the smith recovers his weapon from the bath and inspects his creation. The smith content with his work, immediately begins the process of completing the weapon with the addition of the guard, hilt and pommel.

The final product sends tremors passing through my body and even a hint of fear. The weapon appears to be a longsword but too large and heavy for any normal man to wield in a single hand. The grip itself is made from a black treated leather and appears harsh and unforgiving as if the sword itself would reject any lesser mortal. The cross guard appears simple but for the two dragons garrisoning its periphery. A ruby like stone embedded in the pommel completes any decorative aspects of the sword demonstrating this is a weapon for war and not merely an ornament. If the other aspects of the sword could be described as intimidating, the blade itself could only be referred to as despair inducing. A rippling pattern upon it from the cross-guard to its blade edge imitating seas washing over the coast. If I had not just witnessed its creation, I would be reluctant to believe it wasn’t caused by the blood of its victims.

My full attention engrossed by the sword, I barely noticed as the background faded away into nothingness. The next few minutes, to my best judgement, chronicled the history of this weapon as it switched between owners. I witnessed it kill an uncountable number of people from valiant warriors to women in their domiciles. The visions would have frightened me had it not been for everyone being obscured by a veil of shadows. I watched with rapt fascination as a powerfully built warrior was bestowed the sword in a great hall to the distress of the gathered audience. The same warrior carried it in unspeakable battles only to end in the same way as all the others, deceased with the weapon at his side. The next arc in the weapons journey became far more obscure and ambiguous in interpretation. The only details I can realistically capture is that the sword crossed an ebony river at the dead of night to arrive at an immense fortress made from a black stone. The weapon was subsequently stored away among golden treasures with no owner in sight. In the present time, the sword had aged over the years and had somehow come to lose both of the dragons on its cross guard, but it still had not lost that unmistakeable bloodthirst.

Fearing the vision would soon come to an end, I began attempting to recollect as much of the details as I could for my future chronicle entry. Contrary to my beliefs, I found myself back in the smithery witnessing the creation of a new sword. Even during the forging process the differences between both swords was clear to see. The size being the main difference with the second sword having the proper dimensions of a longsword and in fact appeared to be slightly smaller than the conventional. The cross guard of the new sword was wavy, and the pommel contained a large ruby in the centre. The blade of the second sword was a lot thinner and more delicate than the first giving off a more elegant feel. The final resting place for this sword unlike the first gave me a frame of reference in the form of the bone white tree with the blood red foliage from my previous vision. An important point of consideration being that this tree appeared far more ancient and powerful than the last. The surroundings suggested the tree had grown inside of a large cave and the snow piled up suggested it was in a similar area as the snowy castle. The final detail I was able to note was a solemn crow perched above the tree before I was wrenched from the dream.

Stirring as if from a pleasant dream, I barely allow my eyes to adjust to the new brightness level before sprinting off back to my courtyard. The next hour is a blur of me writing as many minor details as I can remember, not being sure which will be critical to solving the puzzle till further research in oldtown. Satisfied, I can’t stop myself from pondering over the meaning of this newest vision. For regardless of how hard I try, I can’t shake the feeling that the vision wanted me to collect the swords. Unable to articulate why I got that feeling, I shelve that thought for the meanwhile. Luckily, from the vision it was clear that both swords had an illustrious history so finding information about them in the citadel shouldn’t be difficult.

The tangy smell of sweat upon me draws my thoughts towards more pressing issues and I run myself a well-earned bath. Feeling suitably cleansed I note the sun beginning to fall beyond the horizon. Captivated by it, I relish the way in which the last few tendrils dance delicately on the clouds. Once the sun has completely disappeared though, my demeanour shifts to reflect it. A cold warrior like calm coming over me. Rumours from the east have trickled down in the last week, that suggest the pirates are planning an attack soon. Though unclear where exactly, the captain wants no risks taken, so all guards are being doubled up and no inch of the coast will be left unmanned. The uniform for the sea guard is plain and unrestrictive, allowing the guards to fight at their full prowess. The combination of a cotton shirt and trouser are worn under leather armour intended to protect the torso. . All the pieces of the uniform are dyed black to decrease visibility. The equipment of the sea guard includes a red oak spear and shield plus my very own golden-heart bow. Earning the golden-heart bow is an important milestone in the life of an islander warrior and though I still feel undeserving I will endeavour to prove myself in time. Finally prepared for battle, I head off in the direction of the guard quarters to receive my orders and instructions.