Transcript of Zilyana's Notes
Day 12 of my mission to retrieve the Godsword. The aviansie are foolish cravens. Just the merest sniff of K'ril and they've retreated into the Temple of Lost Ancients. On the surface, they had a chance of outmaneuvering K'ril's forces by making full use of their wings. But no, they have chosen to cower underground where there's no hope of escape. Trapped, like caged birds.
Once again it is left to the forces of good to secure victory. Saradomin has sent me to ensure that the Godsword does not fall into the wrong hands. I bring my trusted bodyguards and a small reserve of priests and knights. We've conscripted many peasants on our journey north - what they lack in discipline they will make up for in resolve. They have Saradomin's blessing, after all.
I'll give Kree his due. His forces have done well to establish a foothold in the Temple of Lost Ancients. The aviansie have established a camp in the southern part of the temple that they're calling Armadyl's Eyrie. K'ril is in the north. I've told my men to set up next to the eyrie, to help defend against K'ril's constant onslaughts.
Unfortunately, Bandos has also sent us 'aid' in the form of the simpleton General Graardor. Already these caverns feel crowded, and Graardor's bullishness is not going to help with keeping this uneasy peace.
That drunken oaf Graardor led a small band of ogres into the Eyrie, plotting to take the Godsword for himself. Kree managed to drive him back, but now it's all-out war between us, Graardor and K'ril.
Perhaps I should end this farce: my forces could secure the Godsword while Kree is busy with Graardor and K'ril.
The assault was not successful. When faced with demons, goblins, and the aviansie, my priests and knights stood firm, but the peasants ran or died. Growler was injured, and we scarcely made it back to Saradomin's Encampment alive. I've barricaded myself and my bodyguards in my chambers. We don't have the forces to launch a counter-attack; not yet. I must go now and pray to Saradomin. He will help us.
Three amulets were waiting on His altar when I woke. I crushed them, as they bore the symbols of Armadyl, Bandos and the accursed Zamorak. My men insist that no one entered the chamber. I will make it my priority to root out the heretic.
A miracle. When I woke, the three amulets were there again. This is no trick - they can only be from Him. But why would He send them? I asked Bree, Growler and Starlight to wear the amulets. Bree prefers the one with the Armadyl symbol; he can feel a power radiating from his bow when he wields it. No doubt Kree's spearmen would benefit from it, but why would I put these prizes in the hands of my enemies? What great plan are you hiding from me, Master?
More amulets appear each day. This is most puzzling.
Bree headed a small expedition to see how the battle was faring. At the time, I thought I was suffering from the strain of command, as I could hear him. At first it was only intermittent - the sound of galloping hooves, the odd shout. Yet, as I focused, I could hear more. I could hear his commands; hear those he was fighting. He was in trouble; his men were overwhelmed. It occured [sic] to me then that he was wearing the amulet; that this was its power. I willed Bree to return, muttering it over and over. Within the hour he was back in the encampment; he said he felt like I was calling for him.
I prayed for salvation and Saradomin has delivered it. The amulets give me the power to listen to the bearer. And, although I can scarcely believe, it's like I can sow the seed of a thought in the wearer's mind. It is only a subtle influence - nothing more than a whisper, a murmur or a hiss - but it is there. With the amulets around my enemies' necks, their strategies will be laid bare and I would be able to play on their doubts. Saradomin has had the foresight to make these amulets attractive to our enemies - they bear icons that appeal to their pride and false faith. I only need to trick my enemies into accepting them; I must make them think that they've been hard-won so that they'll slip them around their necks willingly.
Kree has been deliberating over whether to attack my encampment - he believes he has the power to destroy me, but doesn't want to leave the north open to attack from Graardor. I can hear him talking it over with his generals. Perhaps I will add another voice to his council. I will whisper in his ear, contriving him to bring his forces to the waterfall, so that my archers can rain death upon the heretics!