Year of Our Lord 1229
Had a meeting with Lord Marius of Chambery. He drank my as is his monthly habit, and
now remains bound to me. Keeps him young, grants him strength, and as long as he drinks
from me, he’ll live forever. His wife, Lady Janice, is shrewd. Powerful in her own right but
refuses the bond. Doesn’t want to the curse. She withers while her husband’s youth never
falters.
Spent the night fortifying our domain, focusing on the mountain pass. My years as a
mercenary taught me many tricks. I’ve turned that knowledge to our advantage. The pass
will be a graveyard for any who dare trespass!
First, there are the pits. When the time comes we shall quickly dig deep, narrow, filled with
sharpened stakes. Covered with loose brush and leaves, they’re invisible until it’s too late.
The stakes will impale any who fall, piercing armor and flesh alike. Those who survive the
fall will bleed out, slowly, painfully.
Next, we shall rig deadfalls along the narrow paths. Heavy rocks, balanced and hidden, ready
to crush those who tread carelessly. A simple tripwire is all it takes. Bones will shatter, skulls
will be crushed. It’ll be a quick death, if they’re lucky.
It only takes a few hours to prepare snares as well. Hidden nooses made from strong, thin
wire. Step into the loop, and it tightens, cutting into flesh, trapping the victim. They shall
hang there, helpless, until they starve or until I decide to end their misery.
For those who make it past the obvious traps, I shall prepare more subtle surprises. Men are
trained with poisoned blades. There are countless places to hide in rock crevices, and even
peasants can be ready to slice at tendons. The passes have been cultivated in such a way that
even a small handful of men with bows and arrows can stop an army. Their arrows shall be
coated in venom that causes agonizing death.
Lord Marius approves, as he should. He knows these measures are necessary. Lady Janice
watches with calculating eyes. She’s clever, understands the need for defense. Her power is
her own, and she guards it jealously.
Our domain is secure. My mind never stops scheming, always one step ahead of any threat.
Let them come. They will find only death and despair in these mountains. No one takes
what is mine. Not while I exist.
Guissard Bourdin