Chapter Text
Fragment of a manuscript by Brother Aldred, Grimstone Weald, circa 1309 translated into modern English by the Grimstone Weald Historical Society.
The old ways have mostly been forgotten in Albion, except here Grimstone Weald. Here, the old ways loom over the land like a dense fog in the valley. I was surprised when I got here that Father Abbot allowed the old ways to remain.
I questioned him after vespers one evening shortly after I arrived here. Asked why the chapel was built inside a stone circle. He took me down under the chapel into the crypt to see the ancient remains of another stone circle. Thirteen stone obelisks, smaller than those outside. They were carved with some sort of pagan runes. Maybe they are match runes on the stones outside, but they are too covered in moss for me to ever have noticed. I normally try not to, they give me such a sense of dread. Inside this secret, second circle is an object chained to the floor. Rusted iron entwined with creepers. The Abbot told me that in the ancient times practitioners of the old ways trapped a great Evil within the stone circles. Legend says they were helped by a great warrior angel, who will one day return to vanquish the Evil for good.
Until the angel returns, the monks of Grimstone Weald have taken on the mantle of protectors and must upkeep the ancient stones and runes to prevent the Evil from escaping. The Abbot said he knew I was a man of great faith, who would normally eschew the old ways, but said there is no higher calling than protecting our parish from evil. He invited me to join the brotherhood of monks who tend to the circles and ensure the Evil remained trapped. I remained sceptical. I had planned to pray on it. But, curiosity getting the better of me, I tried to spy the horror within the metal tomb. I caught the merest glimpse and felt an overwhelming darkness try to pry into my mind. As much as the old ways scare me, the protection of others is the most godly path.
I pray the angel returns soon. I can feel the presence of the Evil - thick, all pervasive, unnatural. It’s demonic presence infects the village with an ever present gloom - both in the sky and in spirit. I pray I am strong enough to resist and keep my soul pure. I pray that one day I no longer need to tend to the stones and that this place is forgotten, lost to time so that the Evil remains untouched and unable to cast its dark influence upon any other souls.