The deck of the enemy ship smelled intelligent decision was of course, to run away. The enemies formed a defensive line spanning far beyond our ability maneuver, in either direction. Even from several leagues away one could feel the crisp biting crackle of magic in the air as surely as I smelled the pungent sea salt stinging my nose. To say our chance for advancement was bleak, was an understatement.

We had only one true choice which we accepted with a humble sort of valor. The arcane engines which drove our vessel whirred, the waves grew flustered and in absolutely no time we were moving at viciously deadly speeds. We were moving, of course, directly at our opposition.

Very soon, the smell of ocean air and rhythmic sound of the lapping seas was replaced with the roar of mage-borne fire congealed into transient and impossible balls, crashing into our ship like angry fists. Needless to say, we were in trouble. And yet I've come to expect that trouble much like air to the humanoid form, is something we live on if not live for. After all, what is a Phoenix if it does not burn and rise from the ashes a victorious and terrible beast?

And as is made evident by my very ability to pen this, we did. The newest of our members shook and hid but, our vessel broke through the burning hot rain of enemy fire and out off into the horizon toward Ochalea.

We did not speak the local tongue and what was more, our blend of races was an aberrant thing in this place. We had to hide, with hood and cloak, and silence and care. We traveled, in speaker for the Light outed us in the center of a small village. I will not speak long on the matter suffice to say that he is with Diamond now, and we pressed on.

I have yet to see a land like this, they serve a dragon. And yet not as I do. They serve a dragon within them all, a fire, a passion, a drive to grow and conquer that is unseen in the known world. There is a sense of absolutism in this land. Of rules carved inexorably in the sand with a punishment of blood to be spilled for crossing them. I would feel at home within these lawful parameters, if mayhaps I knew them. And yet from their way of speaking to their customs this land is entirely foreign to me. And it would seem, that my very existence is against its ways. And so, as both a violator of law and a creature structured by it, I continued.

Until, of course, we reached the castle walls. Kyobei, was allowed in. I am not surprised. There is a way about that man that lends one all to easily to growing comfortable with the idea that the rules of reality will acquiesce to him and his will. Until, of course, they suddenly do not. Acting as a shield in such a group is tantamount to guarding a castle wall that is entirely impregnable, until holes appear randomly in the wall at random places and intervals without warning. When our attempt to breach the walls of Ochalea's inner fortress led to an hours long chase through the inner city, my previous analogy proved most true. My path in this, is difficult to decipher.

However much to my surprise, sitting in what was a glorified prison cell of a waiting room I was shocked to see, not Diamond, but another of our order guide my cause. I felt that familiar unsettling tug at the base of my spine, like something cold tugging at the core of my being. And then Naivara, obliterated a group of unsuspecting guards in a wave of jagged ice. It may not have been the most honorable of choices, and yet I could not disagree with it. Kyobei, a man I swore to obey, ordered us to escape. But as a whole we denied the order. Does the Phoenix rise, even from the ashes of its own structural limitations? The fight was upon us, my shield was raised, my sword was eager.

And then, we failed. Kyobei was their captive. Our advancement was his defeat. We had no choice but to surrender. No blood. No glory. No valor. We just had to stop. It fills me with an acrid disgust. I cannot accept this. The Watch cannot fall here.

This cannot be the end.