June 22nd, 2005
Another unfortunate incident with the Legacy Chain occurred today. One of the Radiants from their so called Legacy of Light foolishly led an assault against me. He brought mere children with him to do battle. Among them were his acolytes, who I believe call themselves Lambents. Truly, I will never understand how the Legacy Chain convinces people of such meager mystical ability to fling themselves into danger. Even more puzzling are the young fools from the Legacy of Steel, who guard all members of the Chain. These Pledged and Adamants, as they name themselves, have no power at all from what I can tell. Despite that, they unflinchingly place their fragile forms between the mages and danger. I gave them cause to regret that choice today.
None will regret it more than Radiant Wilcox, however. He was captured, tortured, and executed for his transgression. He died bravely, I must give him that. It was not without a touch of sorrow that I watched him be granted final release. While I watched them prepare to end his suffering I thought about my first encounter with the Legacy Chain, when I learned of their troubling agenda.
I had only recently been given free rein again by my Lord. I was exploring the Islands without poor Wretch by my side for the first time. Looking back I suppose that is why they chose that moment to attack. I recall that first there was a flame. I know now it came from one of the Legacy of Fire. It passed through me of course, but I still recall its intensity. The blast came from a man who, despite his elaborate regalia, was plain of visage and slight of form. He screamed at me with a ferocity that attempted to match his attack. "I am the Inferno, and from this day forward the Legacy Chain will not suffer your foul corruption of magic to exist." He ordered his men to attack and I was about to flee when Wretch, who must have been following me after all, arrived upon the scene.
Wretch cares for me greatly, but he really is a fearsome sight. He tore into those who would have harmed me with a howl bordering on madness. I did little that day, but I was unharmed thanks to my protector. When it was over, I asked Wretch to hold up their belongings for me. I learned that they were, for the most part, ordinary people chosen for an extraordinary task. They felt that someone needed to monitor the use of the mystic arts. They believe themselves to be heroes, but I fear they have plunged into water deeper than they can imagine.
Misguided they may be, but they have become a true threat. Their numbers have grown, and the addition of their steel wielding bodyguards has made them even more deadly. Practitioners of the dark arts should be wary of these fanatics.