*Aelvaros racks his weapon in the armory at Fort Talon. He's only spent a few weeks here but he already knows his place around, years of training have made sure he knows every detail about his station that he can. He walks slowly, and wearily to his bed located near the armory. His possessions were few, but precious to him. Among them; a ragged, brown leather journal with a tough leather strap, meeting with a clasp on the front. He unfastened the clasp and opened the journal to see the yellowed pages he wrote so many years ago. He takes a quill from the ink well that was setting on his bed-side table, and begins to pen a journal entry...*
It's been too long since I've last written anything down, not since the Red Talons 10 years ago. I feel compelled to write a few words to calm my mind, and to keep a sort of written record of my experiences within the Legion.
The Phantom Legion is in turmoil, whether or not those in charge wish to believe it to be or not. The death of Baron Monroe caught the Legion unawares, and without a contingency plan. Only two days after his death did the crisis begin: fellow Legionnaires claiming to know what's best for the guild, and what "the Baron would do" if he were here. The Baron wouldn't do anything, because if he were here this whole mess wouldn't even happen. So instead of preparing for war against the Templars, we are taking the first steps to a civil war that will fracture the Phantom Legion forever.
*Ael rubs his eyes, they burn with the fatigue of a long days work. He takes up his quill again and begins another paragraph*
I don't know yet how I truly feel about this in-fighting. Maybe it's necessary to finally establish control over the guild once and for all, even if it means arresting and prosecuting fellow Legionnaires for their violent threats against officers, even if some deserve it. In my experience however, an organization that isn't structured from the beginning falls quickly. Not only did the Baron's death cause disruption within the Legion, it also tarnished the name and image of the Legion; it insulted our strength and made us look weak to our allies, and even worse, our enemies. But the Legion isn't dead, not by a long-shot, we're just wounded and need time to recuperate. Precious time that we may not have
*Aelvaros shuts his journal and fastens the clasp on the front. He leans up in his bed and tucks the journal between the bed-side table and his mattress so it can't be seen with ease. He then lays down, and drifts into a troubled sleep.*