I do not commit these words to paper out of vanity or for the sake of scholastic advancement. Many of the incidents that I have been privy to are a matter of public record and any supposed guilt on my part has since been determined negligible by the Baron’s courts. Though my hands do shake as I pen these words, I have an obligation to present the most honest account of the happenings isolated to the village of Kolsburg – If only to provide some sort of ease to my wayward mind.
* * *
It was the year of 1646 when I concluded my studies at the Illuminated University. Though many at the college studied to become crusading champions against the Nameless Dark, I had taken to more esoteric curriculum. It was one thing to be able to sling sword and spell at the creatures spawned by what hushed voices referred to as ‘the Fiend Upon High’; I had felt that, being possessed of very little martial prowess and only middling arcane talent, that my efforts were best spent lost in tomes that predated the Barony and journals not unlike this one I pen now.
For several years my time would be spent in the company of such crusaders dispatched upon investigations by our superiors in the cloistered halls of the Church of Yearning Light. My role in such sorties was that of an archivist: cataloguing our journeys and making note of any fell influence we came upon. Most often our investigations would reveal only evils of a decidedly mundane nature. In my years since as an archivist only one such official investigation resulted in the discovery of the servants of the Dark. But my purpose here is not to catalogue that incident…
My duties with the Church would often occupy my time from the autumn months well into spring, leaving me the opportunity to summer in my home village of Scholis. My father, being a simple and unlettered man, never fully understood or approved of my work but I think, in the end, he concluded it was necessary. His health faded rapidly with each year and after I buried him in the summer of 1651 I bid my home village a permanent farewell and resolved to see more of the rural roads of the barony.
I happened upon Kolsburg while bound to an investigation the following year. Our troop had passed through in the pursuit of a man of dubious character peddling in occult trinkets that left unease and strife wherever he passed. I remember being immediately taken with the quaint village, nestled on the edge of the Everbright Forest and merely a day’s hike from the shores of the Misty Lake. Much like my home of Scholis, it was a village that survived off the forest around it, and I would later discover that the carpenters of Kolsburg were in high demand throughout the barony for their exquisite craftsmanship and unique style.
Moreover, the village also served as the market for many of the outlying farms and primary point of defense against any gnollish incursions from the northern plains. The tall stone tower at the heart of Kolsburg seemed out of place against the cozy wooden hovels, like a malignant claw protruding from an otherwise fair hand. While upon investigation I learned that it was rarely in use and served more as a storehouse for grain and an impromptu armory than a true fortification.
I had resolved to return to the quaint village but did not find an opportunity to do so until the summer of 1653. Lost as I was in writing my Treatise of They who Serve the Dark, it was only at the behest of my superior officer in the Church that I take that summer off to make good on the promise I had made to myself. Remembering the charming hovels of Kolsburg, I set out nearly immediately after securing my work.
The summer was brutishly hot that year I remember, and it was felt throughout the barony. A sense of cloying laziness seemed to permeate the very air along with the heat. It was the sort of summer best spent in the nearest lake or river much as I had spent many of my own youthful summers. The day I returned to Kolsburg was just as offensively hot, but I had resolved not to let it diminish my excitement for getting to know this charming village.
I had arrived late in the afternoon, but the markets were still open even as everyone was waiting with bated breath for the sun to dip below the horizon and provide a moment of respite from the heat. I partook of a fruit vendor’s stand and purchased a delectably moist red apple, which helped alleviate the ever-present hot malaise of the day. Still, there was a strangeness in the vendor’s overall demeanor towards me, and I would see them whispering to one another shortly after I left their stalls. The insular nature of such communities was not new to me. Scholis was perhaps half the size of this village and twice as like to gossip about any and all strangers passing through.
As the afternoon wore on, I felt the weariness from the road creeping upon me faster than expected and the curious whispering from the villagers seemed to create a delirious fog in my mind. It was not until I felt the interminable heat welling up from within me that I cursed myself for a fool at not recognizing what had happened to me. Though not of particularly weak constitution, I was not nearly as stout as some of my crusading colleagues and even so I had often warned them the dangers of heat exhaustion while marching in their gleaming plated armor. That it would fall upon my shoulders this day seemed like an only slightly amusing irony.
I asked the nearest vendor for directions to the nearest doctor, which seemed to be of great relief to her. She made comment about how it appeared as I needed to get out of the sun as quickly as possible and I was able to offer her a quiet but firm agreement of her assessment. She directed me to a man named Holzmann who ran a small clinic on the corner of Auburn and Woodrose streets.
These steps I took from the market to Holzmann’s clinic resound heavily in my mind. Though I was in moderate delirium at the time, they seem clearer to me now than they ever did at the time. I wonder if my path would be as it is today if not for that simple bout of exhaustion? It is foolish to think of now, but I understand it now as part of the human condition to question what might have been if only for a simple choice.
There was nothing outwardly spectacular about Holzmann’s clinic. It appeared as though it had been repurposed from a shop that had once resided on the corner of the street, which was accustomed to seeing much more traffic in its earlier years but now was remarkably quiet. The white plaster of the walls had grown a sickly yellow over years of exposure to the sun and cracks were beginning to form in the base of the foundation. But the front-facing display window was remarkably clean, displaying a lovely sitting room where I saw a clean-cut man reading from a tome of unknown provenance.
His gaze rose to me as I entered his clinic, the faint jingling of bells on the door heralding my arrival. The doctor looked perhaps a few years older than I, though he still maintained a youthful roundness in his face that made him appear younger. A pair of thin spectacles rested upon his brow, through which eyes of piercing blue and green hues surveyed me in silence. His clothes stood out to me, however, as not anywhere resembling the local style. Whereas the locals of Kolsburg would wear simple cloth garments of earthen tones best suited to their working environment, Holzmann wore clothes more befitting a well-off city bound merchant: a white silken shirt with loosely tied necktie and trousers of a faded blue-gray that seemed more fitting of a military uniform. A matching overcoat and hat hung from a rack on a nearby wall, swaying faintly in the breeze caused when I opened the door to the clinic.
“Doctor Holzmann?” I asked.
“Indeed…and you are that curious inquisitor who passed through town a few years ago in search of some fugitive, are you not?” He did not rise to greet me, but he did close his tome, although he kept a thumb carefully inside it to mark his place.
“Ah, why yes. I’m surprised you recall; my troop was not here for long. I am Errol Warner, Archivist for the Church of Unyielding Light.”
“I’m afraid your band was the talk of the town for quite some time,” he said as he rose to his feet and reached out to clasp my hand. “Robert Holzmann. It seems you ran afoul of the summer weather Mr. Warner. If you’ll allow me to treat you I look forward to hearing tales of your endeavors.”
I remember being somewhat taken with Robert from the very beginning. He had an easy charisma about him while also maintaining a slight air of mystery. I wanted to ask him about his past almost from the outset, but thought it may be rude without seeking proper treatment first. Like myself, Robert was only a middling arcanist at best, so he relied more heavily on the science of medicine than the magical solutions that would be available to those blessed with more inherent talent. His skill as a doctor was without question, though, after a change of clothes, a cool compress, and a strange herbal tea I had begun to feel considerably better.
“How much do I owe you for the treatment, doctor?” I had asked him once the sun had set and my strength had returned.
“Mr. Warner I run my clinic in accordance with the tenants of the virtue of Sacrifice. I require no payment from you. If you wish to make a donation in this clinic’s name I would certainly not reject it, however as I said before I am far more curious on your duties with the church and the places you have traveled to.”
“Well…certainly, doctor, I can speak of my investigations, at least what has been made public record. You must understand that in the course of prosecuting the endless battle against the Dark that there are some details that must remain secret, for the safety of all.”
“Of course. Wait there and I shall send for some supper.”
We spent most of that evening talking well into the night on my investigations with the Church. We supped on an unforgettable meal of black pepper boar sausage and stout applejack the likes of which I doubt I’ll be able to replicate elsewhere. Robert was an excellent listener and seemed keenly interested in what he called my ‘adventures’. I did not, nor do I now, consider myself an ‘adventurer’, but I have grown to appreciate that my experiences are not exactly within the realm of normal, even for an inquisitor of the church. Still, I was able to glean a few details from Robert before we parted ways for the evening.
As I suspected, Robert Holzmann was not a native of Kolsburg, but he had been there for many years now, assigned by his superiors in the Order of Sacrifice to tend to the medical needs of the village after the previous doctor had retired. He was a native of the town that had grown around the base of Castle Schatten at the very heart of the barony, which explained much of his sensibilities and choice in fashion. Much like myself he had found himself enchanted by the rustic charm of Kolsburg and had grown to love the village as his second home.
It being too late in the day to procure lodgings at the inn, Robert invited me to stay in his clinic for the evening and I happily took his hospitality. For the remainder of the summer, Robert’s clinic would become my own second home. More often than not I would find myself spending lunch or supper with him, and we would often speak well into the night on all manner of topics both philosophical and practical.
With Robert as an invaluable resource, I set about meeting the village folk and becoming familiar with their local customs. I found them not too dissimilar from my own home village, and was quickly able to make acquaintances with many of the locals. True to Robert’s word, more than half of the villagers recognized me from my sojourn through their home two years prior, and many were curious as to what the results of that investigation had discovered. They were a largely pious lot who feared the Dark and helped one-another in time of need. What struck me odd was what they thought about Doctor Holzmann.
For the most part the villagers had nothing but kind words regarding the doctor. The worst anyone could say was that he could come off as standoffish to them. The people of Kolsburg were a friendly, gregarious lot, and I learned that the Doctor preferred to spend his nights alone after a long day of tending clinic. I found this…saddening somehow, but some of the villagers found it suspicious. They spoke in hushed tones about his supposed arrogance and suspected that he was dabbling in forbidden sciences. I did my best to assuage their concerns, but it did plant in me a seed of doubt. I would be negligent in my duties if I did not assign at least some merit to their concerns.
Several nights later I revealed to Robert what some of the villagers had said about him. I will never forget the profound sadness in his eyes that night…
“What you must understand, Mr. Warner,” he said to me through a glass of dark brown applejack as we gazed upon the starry night sky, “is that there are those among us who will insist on viewing the world through the most cynical and suspicious lens they can find. I can set their broken bones and I can mend their cuts and bruises, but there exists no such salve for the mind. I have known that a small portion of the villagers view me with suspicion and even contempt, but it will do nothing to prevent me from serving them.”
“That is an admirable sentiment, doctor. Would that we all could try and be so generous. The Dark would have no purchase here if that were the case.”
Robert chuckled softly and tipped his glass to me. “Well…I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel my own doubts from time to time. How many times can you mend someone’s broken leg without so much as a thank you in return? Indeed, I am…somewhat startled by the hatred in the hearts of those who receive charity.”
“How do you mean?”
For a moment he seemed…troubled by my innocent inquiry. A moment of heavy silence fell between us and I was about to bid him to disregard this awkward line of questioning before he spoke in a much more hushed tone.
“There was a man some years ago, one of my first patients when I came to town and took over for Doctor Reinhelm. He was an older gentleman who I gather was quite close with the previous doctor. He…did not take kindly to me as his replacement. After a month or so he stopped coming to clinic. I took it as my duty to make a house call as he had a chronic condition that would prove fatal if not treated regularly.” His eyes grew distant as he continued speak, it seemed the memory was painful for him. “…The unkind words he said to me through the closed door of his hovel sometimes keep me up at night even to this day. He passed away shortly afterwards…and I wonder if I had only been more insistent in his treatment if he would still be alive today.”
“Oh Robert…you cannot hold yourself accountable for something such as that. The Light granted us all the power of free will. Even if that free will causes ourselves harm.”
“Trust me my friend; blaming myself is certainly well within my abilities.” His smile was supposed to be disarming, but I found it to be simply thin. He refused to speak about the old man any further that night and our discussion moved once more onto esoteric matters.
After that night I was ashamed to find that my mind was heavy with suspicion. The teachings at the Illuminated University taught that it took only a moment of doubt, a sliver of second-thought, for the Dark to gain a foothold in one’s soul. With little more to go on than intuition, I approached Robert the following day about conducting an official inquiry into him and his clinic. I assured him it would be a mere formality but that once completed he would be able hopefully lay to rest the suspicions the remaining townsfolk had of him. Moreover, it may put his and mine own mind at ease. The response was…disheartening at best.
Robert refused to see me or speak with me for nearly two weeks after I suggested the inquiry to him. I had sensed that I had caused a sort of personal affront to him. Here was a man who had bared his soul to someone he thought was a kindred spirit, and in return what he received was more doubt. Mortified, I had tried my best to mend the damage I had done to our friendship. Admittedly, I was not entirely comfortable in my efforts, but in the end I was able to convince him to see the virtue of my proposal.
With trepidation, Robert allowed me back into his life and I set about conducting my investigation in a manner both quick and thorough. What I found was not a man steeped in anything nefarious, but rather simply a man who was perhaps overworked and underappreciated for it. I learned much about Robert during that week, some of which bears significance in the light of recent events that I will outline here:
Robert was the third and youngest child of Ser Abelard Holzmann, whom you may recognize as the accomplished crusader in service to Baron Von Schatten. His eldest brother followed in their father’s gallant footsteps while his sister displayed a great talent for song and viol and a near-constant presence in all manner of courtly estates since the age of seventeen. Robert, however, not possessing of any obvious talents or drive, instead attended the Whitespring College of Medicine and threw himself into studies, perhaps in an effort to prove himself worthy of his siblings and his father’s name.
His assignment here in Kolsburg was unusual only in that it had persisted for so long. Typically physicians of his age and skill were given temporary assignment to any number of towns and villages to garner practical experience before moving on to positions laden with more responsibility. For whatever reason, Robert had languished here more than most. I discovered that he too was working on a treatise of rural medicine with the hopes of some day transferring to the College to pursue a teaching career. His tenure in Kolsburg was actually his first time living in a rural village such as this and while it was true he found the vistas charming, he admitted to me at times that the people there were beyond his comprehension.
Yet despite all this he maintained an optimistic disposition. And while cracks may show in that disposition from time to time, my inquiry revealed no nefarious intent, nor any potential influence from the Nameless Dark. With the official paperwork drafted I made my official findings known in the village square before presenting him with all of my notes. I do not know if my work did anything to convince his detractors of his good and gentle nature, but they were at least silenced for a time.
The remainder of the summer passed in lazy quietude. I would sit in with Robert on his clinic from time to time, chatting with the locals and taking passing note on who came more frequently than others. I made many a journey into the forest cataloguing the wildlife found within and conversing with the occasional curious fey spirit. I knew straight away that there would be far too much in the area to investigate in a single summer, and I made a promise to return the next year to continue my studies. Most of the villagers knew me by name now and greeted me on the street in passing. I would make the time to chat with them about their concerns, mostly about the approaching winter and how the weather seers were saying it would be particularly frigid this year.
After a time the chill of autumn began to creep into the air and it was necessary to return to the Church of Yearning Light for my next official investigation. Robert and the village threw a small banquet for me on my final night in the village. I had grown fond of many of the locals and their closely-knit community that the Doctor had finally seemed to grow into. A pretty village maiden had been making eyes upon him the entire night and through no small amount of encouragement, I had the pleasure of watching the man, a deliriously happy grin etched upon his smooth face, clumsily dance with her to the sound of a raucous fiddle.
I parted ways with Kolsburg and Robert the following morning. He embraced me as a brother and we made promises to write one another frequently, even if I may be in the far corners of the barony on investigation. I implored him to send me passages from his own treatise and that I would offer what thoughts that I could whenever appropriate.