I am Justine De Fargo. Resident bad girl. The daughter and niece of extraordinary Paladins. My family has told me that I am a true Paladin at heart. There is the Paladin's sword I can arm. The sword my beloved Uncle said only a true Paladin can hold. I will think about the Virtues later. For now, I prefer being bad. It helps me cope with all I have lost.

If you're brave of heart, journey with me through the pages of my journals. Here you'll read the tale of a Paladin's orphaned daughter and my life since the time of my childhood. It is my fault that all my loved ones are gone forever. This is the pain I live with.

Somewhere, hidden in my conscious is the knowledge that my beloved Uncle, Jasper de Fargo loved me despite my stubborness and tendancy to get into trouble. That is the thread that I hold dear to. How I got to that point is a rather difficult story to tell, but tell it I shall.

Read more if you can stand it.

*the text in the book is cramped and forced looking, slightly off kilter as if the author had much difficulty in the writing*

Writing this story will be difficult for several reasons, the least being I'm having to write right handed. Not an easy task for a lefty. The reliving of this particular story will by far be the most difficult part in the telling, but tell I must for it has shaped who I have become and how I must live.

I have fond memories of my early childhood. Of Mother and Father and much laughter and joy in our home. Both of them Paladins, our lives were simple yet full, the Virtues guiding every decision. Goodness seemed to radiate from my parents and everything they touched.

I'll never forget the day my life changed forever. I was five years old. Father had promised to buy me a Pony for my sixth birthday. I anxiously awaited the day, looking in the stables atleast ten times a day as the big day approached.

The morning before my birthday, I quickly ate my oatmeal and drank a glass of milk to break my fast, then hurried to the stables to see if Papa had brought home my new pony yet. There seemed to be evidence of a struggle in the stables, tables overturned and blood... blood was splattered on the walls and then to my horror I saw my own dear papa laying mangled on a blood soaked pile of hay.

In my bereavement I never saw the pretty young brunette girl standing in the corner of the stables. I threw myself on the blood soaked hay and cried to my papa over and over to wake up. Had I noticed her, I might have been afraid for the knowledge I have of her now.

The young woman gently pried me off of my father and told me gently that it's too late to help him. She told me that he was now walking with the Gods and I must not cry. I cried to her that I must get my Mother... Mama would know what to do. The young woman sadly shook her head and said that seeing my papa like this would break my Mama's heart and I must not do that to her.

The Lady offered to help me clean him up and clean up the Stables. As we worked, she told me what she had witnessed. A spirit had come upon my father as he brought the pony inside. The spirit passed through Father, bringing him to his knees before settling into the Pony's body. She told me how the pony had gone mad, thrashing this way and that, stomping on my father over and over.

The spirit inside the pony had killed my father even though she had tried and failed to save his life. Knocked unconscious, the woman had seen upon first waking the ghost of my father enter that of the pony and remain there. The spirit had taken residence in my father's body at last. Horror struck, I turned to the pony who was lazily munching on some oats then looked to the Lady. "How can we get my Papa out?", I asked.

he answered me in grave tones, "The only way to save your father is old magic. It might have been too long but we can try. I'll help you. You must cut out your Papa's heart and destroy it. The spirit is residing in his heart. Likewise, you must kill the Pony and cut out it's heart as well. Placing it's heart into your Papa hopefully will make your papa alright again."

I reached for Papa's sword but could not lift it by myself. The Lady stood behind me and assisted me to wield it. With her help, I killed the Pony and cut it's heart out with my Papa's dagger. Turning to my Papa's body, I cut his heart out with the Lady's help. I placed it myself into the Brazier and cried my heart out as it sizzled and popped. Soon enough it was destroyed.

I carefully placed the pony's heart into my Papa's chest and said every prayer I had ever heard for my Papa to come back to me unharmed. Now when I think back on that day, I know prayers would never have helped. I had not killed my Papa but in my innocence, I was responsible for him never having a way to return to us.

The Lady finally helped me to clean up my Papa's body and to change his clothes. Such care was taken to make sure the sight of him would not horrify my Mama. That was the day I began living to protect my Mama. If I could help it, no harm would come to her.

The Nightmares began within three days. The Lady who had helped me that day would visit me in my dreams. I learned that her name was Briana Amroli and it was she who had killed my Papa. My dreams were tortured fragmented bits. I'd hear my Papa's voice as he fought her. Briana would whisper into my dreams that it was I who had finished off my Papa. It is a secret I have kept all my life.

Mama did seem broken after Papa died. She fed me, clothed me and took care of me to the best of her ability. I know that she even loved me, but gone were the smiles and hugs and kisses that I so desperately needed. Mama's heart was clearly with Papa. There was no room for anyone else.

Life went on in our house. As the years passed I found myself protecting Mama and doing more and more to make ends meet. I'd snare rabbits and catch fish for the table. I tended the garden so we'd have fresh vegetables and made do with what we had. The important thing was to keep safe the woman who sat day by day at the window and stared out it as if waiting for someone.

The dreams continued night by night. Whether they were brought on by guilt on my part or induced by Briana I do not know. But added to them was the fact that I had ruined my Mama's life. I never got accustomed to the dreams and in desperation worked like a mule in the daylight hours to keep Mama as comfortable as possible. No matter how bone weary tired I was, when the dark fell, the terror began for me.

So, time marched on until I was seventeen. Mama still sat by the window as the house practically fell around us. I had sold most of our furnishings and anything of value we had just to pay the taxes on the property. The stables had long since been gone, used board by board for the fires that kept Mama warm on the long cold winter nights.

Briana came to me in the night on Halloween of 2005. She reminded me how I had murdered my Papa and caused my Mama to go daft. She reminded me for the hundredth time if not thousandth that no matter how hard I work that the damage was done and nothing could change it. I woke up suddenly and realized Briana was sitting on the corner of my bed. The sharp tang of fresh blood hung about her. As I looked at her noticed that she had changed. Her skin was paler than it had been through the years and her eyes glowed an eerie golden color.

Terrified, I jumped out of my bed and ran to Mama's room. She was not there and frantically I looked about the house. I found her, crumpled by the front window laying in a pool of her own blood. There seemed to be no struggle in the room. I turned Mama over and found her dress rent down the front. I looked around the room for Briana was nowhere to be seen. Neither was my Mama's heart. It was missing from her chest. I knew then that she was gone to me forever.

Numbed by loss, I gently cleansed my Mama's body and buried her beneath the ancient Yew out back beside Papa.

I was finally alone.

*The Text continues, cramped and painful looking*

I knew of the Uncle I had... My Papa's brother, Jasper De Fargo of PaxLair. He had written to Mama over the years to make sure we were alright. Many times I would consider answering the letters for Mama to ask for his help. Each time, Briana would come to me in the night and swear to lay another De Fargo death at my feet should I do that. I'd always end up writing him a flowing letter telling him of my accomplishments and how wonderful life was. I always signed Mama's name to the letters. None of it was true of course, but Uncle Jasper was still safe.

I spent perhaps three weeks as I always had. But then, the house was sold for taxes and I was only allowed a few personal items. The court of Trinsic said I must go to my Uncle as he was my only family. The day came much too soon and I dallied along the way, unwilling to bring harm to another. It was then that I had met Bob Ross. Weakened in body and spirit from the trauma of the past, I readily believed Bob when he promised he would take care of me. Just to lay the burden on someone who was not family was a relief and I experienced the heady sensation of freedom for the first time since the day before my sixth birthday.

I know I was ugly to my Uncle and his friends that night. I wanted nothing more than to throw myself into Uncle Jasper's arms and let him take care of me, but I was desperately afraid to do so. Instead, I went with Bob Ross. I do not remember much of that time. Ross had given me some sort of potion and my nights were filled with craving more of it. It was something I needed more than the air I breathed. In the back of my mind, I knew that Uncle Jasper was safe from me. I would not ruin his life as I had my parent's. Uncle Jasper, and many others of PaxLair saved me from Ross. I was close, within a day of becoming a full fledged Vampire, like Briana. I was terrified after that but tried to not show it. I stayed with my Uncle and tried not to feel anything for him. I could not lose him so I was determined not to love him.

Everyone was so kind to me and yet I held back, afraid to care about anyone at all. There was one I grew close to during my first days in PaxOku. Orin Lightenburg ... spoiled and used to getting exactly what he wanted... a loyal friend once he considers you a friend and possibly the only true friend I've ever had. Oh, many have been kind, but no others understood me like Orin... Orin is the only one who truly liked me for me and didn't want me to change. I should have confided to Orin about the dreams beyond that I have bad dreams, but I was and still am so ashamed for how my love has ruined other's lives. Perhaps had I told him he could have found a way to help me besides the way I tried which got me in awful trouble. Now, I guess I had better tell of the trouble I got into. Avoiding it will not make it go away, as I well know with every beat of my heart. I do not tell this story to make things go easier on me for the trouble I caused. I've already paid the price for that. I mainly wish to tell my story. Perhaps it's just the writing of it that makes it seem less horrible. Perhaps I just look for a way to free myself of the past. Back to the story now, no more prolonging the agony of it.

There was a man I had met in the market places. I do not know his name and now that I think of it do not even know how he knew of the dreams. Somehow he knew of the torments that kept me in terror of laying my head down at night. How over and over I'd relive cutting out my Papa's heart and throwing it in the Brazier. How many times must I revisit the night of finding my Mama, no heart in her chest? I was desperate for the relief this man promised. There was a potion I could take that promised blessed relief from the terrors of the night, but the cost was high indeed. Was I willing to tell anyone of my past to free myself? The answer was no. I could never do that. I'd do whatever I could to find the relief I sought and still keep my secret in tact.

From my Uncle, I stole an ancient Samurai Helm that had once belonged to my Grandfather. I put this item into the auction in PaxOku. I also made copies of a set of books my Uncle had. Just as I was finishing these copies, Elijah Cross, Minister of Defense for PaxLair stepped into Uncle Jasper's office. I was caught with my hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. I panicked and hit him in the head with a candelabra. I was terrified because I had knocked him out cold. I was afraid he was dead. I quickly sent a pigeon to the only person I could think of who might help me. Orin came right away and assured me that Elijah was only unconscious. Orin spirited me away. We hid the books in my bank box in Minoc. It was easy enough to do. All the bankers seemed to be sleeping in the hot part of the day.

I hoped I was in the clear. but it was not to be. The helm sold at the auction for a good sum, but I was apprehended when I went to pick up my check. I was questioned while I was held in custody. Terrified once again, I didn't hesitate when Orin came to my rescue once again. We fled into the night. The last I saw of Orin was in Skara Brae at the Inn. Little then did I know what was in store for me in the next weeks. I slept on the ground beneath the stars for the better part of the week. The dreams still came to me in the night and seemed even worse somehow. Briana walked through my dreams taunting me at the mess I had made of my life and everyone who had ever cared for me. She told me how Elijah was near death and suffering for the blow I gave him. She taunted me still that my Uncle Jasper was all alone now. Was I not brave enough to protect him? Did I know what was happening to him while I was cowering beneath this tree in the woods?

Many people would disagree with me, but I do have a conscious. I went to check on Uncle Jasper and could not find him so I next went to the Paladin's Keep in Felucca to find Elijah. Elijah was there with the Constable Sherlock Holmes, but I had to check on him. I just had to. I was arrested there and tried to escape. Subdued, I was taken to the PaxGlacei Hall of Justice and formally charged. During the day while in jail, I had nothing to do except worry about the upcoming trial and think about the dreams, which seemed to get worse nightly. Somehow, Briana managed to put a magical mirror in my cell. I could no longer hear the guards taunting me or feel the desperate need of freedom. Where my dreams were only in my sleep, now they were in my waking hours too. The mirror was somehow showing my parent's deaths. Over and over I was forced to watch both of them die.

For a full day and night I witnessed the horrible scenes over and over without cease. I finally managed to stagger to the prisoner's exercise area on the roof. It was freezing cold up there but gone were the constant images or horror. instead, I was able to witness the orcs building the gallows for my execution. I honestly didn't care. By this time I knew my Uncle had been abducted by Briana and I knew it was my fault. I had hurt many people in my life and knew everyone would be better off without me.

I must have dozed on that cold roof for the next thing I knew I was back in my cell and the mirror was no more. Lady Winmere was talking kindly with me and promising to not leave my side through the night. Orin's father had given me leaves from a rose of Trinsic to help me gain strength. I slept through the night without the dreams.

Soon enough my trial date approached. At first I was denied bail as it was thought I was too large a risk for the community to be let out, with Orin still on the run. I would remain jailed for the time being. The guards still harassed me and the dreams continued. Uncle Jasper had not been found yet although many assured me they were looking for him day and night.

Briana came in one evening and killed me. She demanded that I come with her and squaring my shoulders I refused. I was terrified of my future if I remained where I was but even more terrified to consider becoming what Briana was. I stood firm and prayed my legs would support me. They shook so hard. When Briana saw I would not come with her, she began shooting me with her bow. I was defenseless and completely at her mercy. Thankfully, I had visitors who rezzed me before it was too late. The guards were fired from the Hall of Justice that night. The remainder of my jail time was much easier.

*at this point in the writing, the text becomes easier to read, the letters no longer seem cramped*

My next trial date finally arrived and my attorney had made a plea bargain with the prosecuting attorney. I plead guilty to two charges of grand larceny, one count of assault with a blunt object, one count of resisting arrest and one count of fleeing the scene of a crime. In return I was granted bail for one million gold and a trial date was set for one count of attempted murder.

Oda and Lenora saw to securing me an apartment at the PaxOku Playhouse and I was determined to get a job to pay my rent by any way that was not a crime. Luckily, I came across Connor MacLeod of Silvervale. Connor was kind enough to give me a chance, despite my record. He hired me as a Siren at his pub, "The Sirens Call" in Silvervale. The trial never far from my thoughts, I nonetheless worked hard and paid for my first six months rent in short order, from the tips I received.

Uncle Jasper had been missing for some time and still could not be found. It was at first thought that I had done something to him, but thankfully that theory didn't last long. My secret was still safe. Nobody knew why I wanted nothing more than his safety. I still lived in fear in the daylight hours and terror while I slept. One thing was certain though in all of this. Briana had sent a letter taking complete credit for Uncle Jasper's disappearance.

Uncle Jasper managed to escape Briana before my last trial date. Lady Lenora and I performed the same ritual on him that the others had performed on me when I was in Bob Ross' clutches. Uncle Jasper was safe again, as long as I didn't let myself love him. That was getting harder and harder to do, but do it I must.

The final trial date finally approached and I was terrified of it's outcome. I already knew that nobody no longer trusted me. I had heard many of the jeers and whispers. Many stood behind me and supported me, but many wanted me prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

When all was said and done, Uncle Jasper and Elijah Cross had both dropped the charges against me. It looked as if I might walk away completely free. My legs shook so hard I feared I would fall flat on my face as I awaited Judge Winfield's verdict. Finally Judge Winfield spoke. He allowed all charges to be dropped except the assault charge. That was serious and would be treated as such. I was sentenced to have my left hand crushed as a reminder of the severity of my crime.

With my Uncle holding my right hand, the sentence was carried out at the same gallows where I thought my life would end. The pain was severe and my shame great. With every beat of my heart I felt the pain and was reminded of my sins. It was overwhelming in some ways but not near enough to pay for the lives I had ruined during my life.

My only comfort had always been my music. With my hand crippled, I could no longer play my lute. The comfort I could have drawn from my lute was smashed at the moment the hammer crushed my hand.

What would my life consist of now that my only comfort was gone? How could I survive with no music? Was my life to be only waiting on customers at the Siren's Call? Would I ever be free to love Uncle Jasper? How could I ever find peace after all that I've done?

Surely you're thinking as I was that the worst had past. What more could happen that would be as bad as what had already happened? In my pain I reached out to the strong arms of my Uncle. I allowed myself to love Jasper and accepted his love in return. It was a mistake I should have never let happen.

I had grown to care about many of my supporters during my time in PaxLair. How much should these kind people suffer because of me? Am I truly cursed so much that I've ruined the lives of all those who have cared for me? Uncle Jasper... Oda Nobunga... Lady Lenora of Yew... Xavier Reed... Tatania Karthina... All of these fine people suffer even today because I allowed myself to care about them. They who have done no more than support me...

I do not wish to relive the rest of this tale, but for the sake of those whose lives I've ruined, I feel I must. The rest will be dedicated to the ones who cared about me despite all I've done. I realize now why I've written these journals for everyone to read. It is as a warning. Do not care about me if you care about your own life. I am cursed and not worth the trouble I've caused.

Take heed good people of PaxLair. I cannot love you for your own good. I no longer have music in my soul.

I managed somehow to live with the extreme pain for several weeks before desperately seeking a solution. The Viceroy of PaxLair City was an evil man who knew much dark magic. Lord Darius of the Death Knights told me of a spell that would heal my hand, but unfortunately there would be the side effect of me going crazy for a time. I went through with the dark magic because the pain was more than I could stand.

I do not remember much of that time actually... it was like I was living in a haze. I do remember however, that my Uncle Jasper returned from his captivity and sought me out. I was living in PaxLair City on an open lot. I had not the gold or senses to build for myself a proper shelter. When he found me, I was huddled under an old soggy issue of the PaxLair Times, the paper not giving me any warmth or protection from the rain that fell.

Uncle Jasper wrapped about our wrists a pure white cord and spoke so softly I could not understand him. I believe it was some sort of prayer or something. A blinding white light seemed to be coming from the cord and slowly I felt the fog starting to clear from my head. Much too late I realized what my beloved Uncle was doing. Jasper, noble Paladin was taking some of the evil into himself to save me. I tried to pull away, fighting him but the white cord held us firm.

There was a series of red sparks coming from the blinding white light and suddenly, the cord was no longer connecting the pair of us and we lay side by side in the mud. My head was clearer than it had been in many months as I held my Uncle's hand. Jasper said more words softly and I felt the dexterity return to my hands and music fill my heart as a gold light surrounded us for a short moment.

Uncle Jasper was so weak, but we talked quietly in the rain, me finally admitting how much I do love him and he assured me that he loves me no matter what trouble I get myself into. He handed me his sword and asked me to hold it. As I held the sword and looked down to him where he lay exhausted in the mud, his face dearer to me than any other I knew, he smiled and spoke in a clear and firm voice. "Only a True Paladin can hold that weapon", he had said. As the last word was spoken, Uncle Jasper began fading until he had completely disappeared.

My mind was once again clear and music filled my heart, but the pain of my beloved Uncle sacrificing himself cut me to the bone. I have healed somewhat over time but at other times I am paralyzed with grief so severe I can do nothing more than cry myself to sleep. My Uncle's sword, the Paladin's sword I have put away safely until I can stand to look at it.

I am Justine De Fargo. Resident bad girl. The daughter and niece of extraordinary Paladins. My family has told me that I am a true Paladin at heart. There is the Paladin's sword I can arm. The sword my beloved Uncle said only a true Paladin can hold. I will think about the Virtues later. For now, I prefer being bad. It helps me cope with all I have lost.

I have worked these many months since that time at the Siren's Call in Silvervale. I have stayed to myself mostly and saved every last gold I made. Finally, I am ready to open my own pub. The pub is a reflection of the reputation I've strove so hard to hold. I do not want to think of the Virtues yet. I can't, or I'll lose what grip I've managed to find of my samity.

My future is in the North Pax Pole in PaxLair City. Here is where I'll make my mark in the world.