Blood of the Covenant
|Blood of the Covenant|
|Release||25 April 2016 (Update)|
|Quest item||River of Blood|
|Destroy||You can reclaim it from the bookcase in Paterdomus library.|
|On death||Always kept outside Wild|
|The personal record of Ivandis Seergaze.|
|Links||MRID • recipe|
|FAQ • doc|
Blood of the Covenant, also known as The Diary of Ivandis Seergaze in a bookcase of a player-owned house, is a book found in the secret library in Paterdomus during River of Blood. It is a journal written by Ivandis Seergaze detailing how the barrier of River Salve was created, and Ivandis' subsequent turning into a Vampyre.
When first found, the book is missing several pages, which are later found in Ivandis' tomb by using information in the first pages. The later pages also contain instructions for creating the Super Guthix balance potion, also used in River of Blood.
Transcript[edit | edit source]
To reach this place has taken a toll on my brothers and sisters, but now we stand before the Salve, we find ourselves invigorated. The purity of its water shall wash away all sin, and separate us from all the beasts beyond for all time.
Brother Twiblick has begun preparations for the blood ritual, entrusted to the Temple Knights by Saradomin himself, even in spite of his unjust eviction from our midst.
Sister Essiandar stands vigilant in an old, abandoned watchtower, looking out across the river, and also back along the valley through which we had to pass on our journey here.
Our enemies could come from either side, and once the ritual has started, they will no doubt make their presence known.We have perhaps a day or two to be ready for them - it will be close, but we have the might of Saradomin on our side, and we shall prevail.
The ritual we prepare is a strange one for the pious followers for our lord, hence why the task was handed to the Temple Knights.
We know all too well that to hold back the darkness can often require a darkness of its own, but tempered by the holy light of our lord, we know that it is just.
If sacrificial blood magic is required in order to protect the citizens of Misthalin, then the Temple Knights shall bear that burden.
Though we all risk corruption, death or worse, we do this knowingly, in our duty to our lord and to his followers.The light must shine strong if it is to push back the darkness.
Essiandar has seen sign of a vampyric brood approaching our position.
We are almost ready - the well is dug down to the water.
We have prepared the artifacts[sic] of power, and some corpses of the enemies we wished to be sealed away across the river.
Each of us has given time to be alone to ready our minds and bodies, and to renew our faith, for what we must do next will test us to our limits.
I myself have already come to terms with my fate, steeled in the knowledge that what I do shall protect my wife and family back home.
I do this for them. We do this for all.The vampyres shall fall upon us soon. We must hurry.
I awoke today with a mass of bodies; vyres, wolves and ghouls alike. My brothers and sisters in arms are all dead. I alone survived, though I do not know if that is a blessing or a curse.
No matter, for our mission has succeeded.
We were set upon at the height of our ritual, and it took every ounce of our strength and our faith to hold back a tide of enemies long enough to complete our incantations.
There is an irony here that is not lost on me - the vyres' attack on our position and killing of my friends has only strengthened the ritual.
So it proves, the greater the sacrifice of blood, the stronger the created magics.
The barrier shall wane over time, that much is known, but it shall stand for centuries, and our descendants shall tend it, and reinvigorate it as the years pass.
For as long as our blood lines stand, so shall the barrier.
My sons shall have their own missions to this place some day, in the fullness of time, once they are grown to men.Their role shall be more pious, that of caretakers, not warriors.
I have finished burying the bodies of my companions, encircling the well we had dug.
Rest easy, my friends, for I live to witness your glory.
A new, smaller force of vyres have arrived at the river's edge. One of them spied me and attempted to cross, no doubt thinking me an easy meal, yet as soon as it crossed the barrier's threshold, a burst of energy shot through it.
The look on his face as it wracked and writhed in pain, before exploding in a shower of gore - only if each of you can seen the fruits of your sacrifice.
Its broodmates mocked and cursed me as I stood across from them, laughing at their impotent rage.They did not stay long, no doubt reporting back to their masters.
And yet it turns out my survival was a curse. I woke today with a sickness - fever and pain, growing inside me as the hours passed. The only alleviation was to step away from the water's edge.There's a new feeling within me, growing as the day grows long. A hunger that I have not felt before.
I can bear it no longer. The pain rises and rises within me, and all I can recount is the face of the first vyre to cross. Its face was one of contorted confusion, but mine no doubt appears one of realisation.
I did not, in fact survive our last stand. I have become... something else.
Whatever the effect our barrier has on our enemies is also now affecting me. If I stay here, I too shall fear end as a mess of viscera atop the graves of my former comrades.
I know not what awaits me on the other side, but I shall cross the river tonight.
I shall leave this diary here so that when others find this place, they shall know of our exploits, and honour the six priestly warriors that spared the western world from the darkness of Hallowvale.Forget me, but do not forget our sacrifice.
My affliction worsens each day. I am becoming something akin to our great enemy.
As my hunger grows, my reverence of Saradomin diminishes. I would once have given my very soul in his name, to do his bidding, to protect those I love, but his ritual has cursed me and so I cursed his name.
This should not be the fate of a hero, but I am no such thing - I am... was a Temple Knight. We accept obscurity in exchange for being on the front lines to protect our families and friends, to bring honour to our god.
I have committed atrocities in his name, killed so many weres and vyres.
(these lines appear if you did not find the other half of the book)
The rest of my secrets I take to my grave, my weapon is the key, should anyone wish to seek them out.
(The remaining pages have been torn from the book, but a final, scratchy note has been scribbled in. It says: 'To look within, one must apply balance')
As I turn, I find my sympathies growing with our enemy - the lust for blood consumes my every thought. I am able to hold back only due to my morals and strength of will, yet even this is slipping.
No wonder the creatures of this land are so single-minded in their pursuits.
I must find a way to satiate my hunger without harming innocents.
I am free to travel these lands without being harassed. Those I come across avoid me out of fear. That is some small mercy, I suppose.
Yet, travelling through a swampy area, I felt myself being watched.
Not by the ghasts who refuse to move on, nor by the eyes of creatures stalking me as I prey, but by human eyes.
At least, so it seemed at first.
Today I took rest at a large tree - the largest in these swamps. It had been hollowed out to form a grotto, and I found a refuge within.
There was a woman who approached me, she who had been watching my progress.
A spirit of nature, so she claimed, and one of fabled Guthix's flock.
She wishes to help me.
Saradomin's light has left me, yet I do not wish to succumb to chaos - perhaps she can bring me balance... perhaps even salvation.
The woman - Yarra - has been sharing with me the teachings of Guthix.
Together we have begun work on a serum to slake my bloodthirst.
So far, it is working. The renewed clarity of mind it has given me allows us to work more diligently.
We do not intend to stop at a serum - in time, my hope is to find a way to reverse my fortunes entirely, though this will no doubt take many years to achieve.
The curse upon me is fighting back, taking a stronger hold on my body and mind.
The effects of the serum become less potent and longer lasting with each passing day.
If we do not find a cure soon, I fear I shall become too far gone.
Yarra believes we can adapt the original blood ritual to our needs, but that we need to find the right catalyst.
For all the catalysts we have tried, we now have a myriad of effects for this new branch of blood magic - which we have dubbed haemalchemy - though we have yet to find one that will shake my own curse.
My own contributions derive from my past as a devout Saradominist, and Yarra's suggestions encompass objects of nature.
We cannot help but feel that we are missing something - blood magic has darker origins, and as such we should consider catalysts that complement that part of the magical spectrum.
We have achieved some modicum of success. Our theory was correct - the catalyst with the greatest effect has been spider eggs.
There appears to be a natural animosity between vampyres and spiders, for reasons that I have so far unable to ascertain.
The resulting potion is unreliable, but it is our most promising success to date.
On certain days it makes me feel like my old self again, returning clarity and reason to my addled mind, yet on other days it only strengthens the ferocity of my curse. It has even reduced me to naught more than a foul and feral beast.
On my worst days, Yarra does what she can to nurse me and keep me calm. In the darkest days of my life, she has become an unexpected friend and confidant, and my fondness for her grows with each passing day.
I often contemplate that I would not have even met her if not for being cursed, and yet I fear this is what will ultimately separate me from her.
I am losing myself in spite of the potion and our search for more potent catalysts has been fruitless.
I fear I shall one day lose control and harm her.
I will not allow this to happen.
Yarra believes the potion could be perfected if only we could find ingredients that have a more pronounced effect on vampyrism - the garlic and silver dust is simply not strong enough.
We have identified one such ingredient - the dust ground from my silver-mithril alloy from which my weapon was crafted - but also require something to confuse the vampyre's preternatural instincts.
Yarra has heard of a tale of a tree known as the blisterwood, which vampyres once feared, but it is believed to have been lost when the old icyene kingdom in these parts fell.
The ashes of this wood sound ideal, but I fear there is no hope of obtaining any.
I intend to tell her that I shall seek out this tree, but the truth is that I am losing my fight with this curse.
Instead, I shall return to Paterdomus and put an end to this. I refuse to hurt her, and I refuse to become wholly vampyric.May Saradomin's light burn this corrupted body, and end my suffering with it.