[IC] Diary of Hilbert Jorgenson

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[IC] Diary of Hilbert Jorgenson

Post by Melnerag on Wed Mar 21, 2012 5:27 am

This fringe literary work is appearing from small printing presses in the city, circulating with no more than a hundred copies. Will it be judged subversive and taken out, or will it spread and be deemed mainstream?

Diary of Hilbert Jorgenson
by Helen of Elwynn

I am Hilbert Jorgenson and this is my diary. First I want to introduce myself. I am forty years old and live in a comfortable three-story house around the Cathedral Square, but I started as a Lordaeronian refugee with nothing but the clothes on my back almost a decade ago. I am a jeweler by profession, and began in Stormwind with simple bronze ornaments before finally returning to gold. But that is not who I am. Most of the time I spend helping the refugees from Lordaeron, Arathor and Gilneas find their way in Stormwind. I go around the city looking for work, and help them get in contact. I organize some charity too, finding Stormwind families willing to take in at least the children, or offer a room for the adults.

Entry 1

Today was a hard day. The Fallcreeks can’t get a job for a month now. They are a family of five, with three little children too young to do any meaningful work. It is becoming increasingly harder to persuade others to give charity to this family, but with Light’s guidance they offer still. Hugo Fallcreek got in trouble with the law today, his children were starving and he tried to steal a picnic basket left unattended by some minor baron. The baron noticed the theft and tried to grab Hugo and call for the guards. The poor man, in his fear, pushed the baron away and tried to run. How could he have known that the baron would trip on the uneven cobblestones and shatter his tailbone in the fall? Now he is in jail on charges of theft, assault and resisting arrest. I know that some of the refugees I have helped were lawyers back home, light-willingly one of them will aid. Poor Hugo, if only somebody took him in – the man is strong and can work like a bull!

Entry 2

Light is good! The Church has made a donation of food and cloth to us. I have found some of the idle refugees still unable to find work and set them to make blankets and robes. We are distributing the food to the most destitute first. How does one decide which child deserves to eat first? They are so thin and their eyes are so desperate. We are feeding the sick ones first, but I can see the resentment on the faces of the families who believed they were more deserving. I pray to the Light for forgiveness, because I snapped when a group of adults chased me down and berated me for handing out food to the sickest children, “They are sick and may die, then the food will be wasted,’ they said. I could not hold myself back. I punched—yes, I punched—their spokesman in his face. Fortunately others swarmed us and prevented any further violence. What have I done? How can I atone?

Entry 3

I am not showing my face today. Not after what I have done. Light forgive me!

Entry 4

I got news of Hugo’s trial. Poor man will lose a hand and receive three lashes for trying to feed his family . There is nothing we could do about it, even the best lawyer we could find among the refugees could not make the differences. How will he even find work now? To the Nether with this blasted seclusion, shame or no I will see if I can find any family willing to take in his three children – Light knows that he cannot feed them now.

Entry 5

There almost was a riot today. Light be praised that it was averted. One of the nobles, the fat one in expensive clothes, was delivering a proclamation to the Stormwind Council that all people must be ready to make sacrifices due to the war and the famine. I always make sure some refugees attend the Council and report the news. This time they reported to the enclave instead of me. Some of our refugees gathered outside the keep, waiting for the noble to leave, and then bombarded him with feces and demanded to know how much he has sacrificed and if they can roast his side with some eggs and herbs. It was a miracle the Disciples were at hand, not the Guards or –light forbid-- the chapter. They persuaded the group to disperse peaceful and ‘arrested’ some inciters to appease the noble. But they were released by the morning in good health and even fed.

Entry 6

I do not approve of crime, but what happened to Hugo makes me wonder. Today I learned that Ellaine, one of the girls who rioted against the fat noble the other night, managed to snatch his diamond-encrusted brooch. She came to me asking how much it was worth, and if I can find a buyer. Normally I would convince her to hand herself in and confess, but now? What will they DO to her? I shudder to think. Will they cut off her nose? Brand ‘Thief’ on her pretty face? Whip her soft skin? No. I will find a buyer for the brooch, it is the right thing to do – that noble can certainly miss it. Is it a crime for the destitute to take from the filthy rich who are unwilling to share?

Entry 7

Light, what have we done to offend You? Simone, one of the refugees from Westfall, was trying to feed a group of orphaned children whom nobody would take in because they are either cripple of retarded. Light knows, Simone can hardly feed her own family – it is very noble of her. She found some food in the country but it was taken away as she tried to smuggle it into the city because she could not pay the tariffs . She couldn’t take it anymore. She tries so hard, but is always opposed by things like that. She was shouting in the street about the King’s corruption, his golden throne and ornate armor, his nobles in velvet and silks and knights on chargers worth enough to feed a village for five years. At least the Guards and the Disciples understood and let it be; she only spent a night in jail and was released with public slapping. An hour later we found her dead in the alley, shot right between the eyes. They wrote ‘Seditionist’ with her own blood on the wall. Who can be so devious, so demonically evil, to do this to a kind soul who simply could not take it anymore? Is it a crime to be human, to break when the pressure of the entire world is bearing down on your shoulders?

Entry 8

Curse this vicious cycle! What am I supposed to do now? Alfonso is a hedge-wizard from Southshore who helps our community as best he can. But now he has crossed the line. He came to me with Simone , alive and well, and told me that he resurrected her. Why is that man so bloody honest!? He should have left it at that, and I would pray for him every day. But he confessed that he used necromancy and asked me to keep Simone safe while he surrendered to the authorities. That smug, self-righteous selfishness! I cannot stand his arguments. We need him and he is going to surrender and get executed because his consciousness and honor demand that ‘A good must always do what is right and never hide from the consequences. Perhaps my death will show that the world is not as black and white as they think,’ he said. We don’t need a martyr, we need a living man who can support us. What am I supposed to do now? Turn him in? Hide him? I am torn. Light, please offer me Your guidance! One thing I know for certain, I cannot stop from turning himself in – and that is what he intends to do.

Entry 9

Simone is not undead. She breathes, feels and has a pulse. I am employing her in my shop even though I don’t really need an assistant. At least she is safe. May be in a few months people will forget her face and she can go out again. A guard-officer came to me today with the concerns about our refugee community. He asked for my permission to investigate and do a few interviews to get to the bottom of the charges of theft, disturbing of public peace and intoxication thrown against the members of our community. He has asked my permission. If he went around his business, I could pretend that I am hiding the destitute from a too-cruel law. What am I to do now? If I refuse, then I confirm –above all to myself—that I am sheltering criminals. If I say yes, I betray the people I’ve sworn to protect. They are poor and hungry, not evil. They don’t steal to enrich themselves, they steal to survive. They don’t slander the Church and the King because they are Defias seditionists; they do it because they are abandoned and angry and have no way to release their frustration. How can these lawmen not see it? I had no choice but to agree and allow the officer to go about his business. The shame I felt when he used my name as a justification for his continuous presence…

Entry 10

A group of children --how old are they? 14? 15?—came to me with some jewelry, asking if I can find them a buyer. Good Light, what have we come to? If I ask them to turn themselves in, they will lose a hand or get a lashing. If I turn them away, they will go to those filthy Dwarven District thugs and there is no getting out of gang-life if you enter it. I did all that I could and promised to find a buyer. The guilt is consuming me. Am I not encouraging all to steal more? Am I turning into a crime-lord instead of a philanthropist?

Entry 11

Things are calming down. Alfonso has decided not to turn himself in. I’ve had no more requests sell pilfered goods. What would happen if every man in our little community of refugees were to confess to all crimes he has committed and testify about the crimes he saw? We would all be in jail. It is a silent agreement. We walk past when we see a beating. Beatings happen. Light only knows what side is right and what side is wrong, these are just people without a hope, beggars begging from beggars. My guilt tears me apart, I know that I should come clean , but how many would be hurt if I testify? Of course, they broke the law…yes. But what of their families, they can’t remain without their support! The innocents will be punished together with the guilty. I cannot bring myself to do it.

Entry 12

Rickard came back. He is an Arathorian refugee and has joined the Guards. He was in training for two months and we hardly saw him, now he came to thank me for everything I have done for him and his family. I chose to confide in him; everything. My worries, the things I know and cannot tell. I hoped he would understand. Sometimes all a man needs is to talk and be heard. Rickard laughed. It was all too familiar, he said. When people are wronged, they are eager to report the crime and have the perpetrator punished by the guards. When their friends do wrong, they can come up with a list of convincing reasons why the crime is forgivable and should not be reported. I am not sure if he thought to make me feel better, or worse. I feel worse. Am I contributing to the decay of the law? . Rickard also told me about the ordeals the guards face. Pinched between two angry crowds: one demanding justice another crying for mercy; then there are the nobles and politicians who demand their own things. No guard can enforce the law to the letter and sleep soundly during night. If you enforce the law, you are a harsh bastard. If you don’t enforce it, you are a corrupt and incompetent traitor. If you take the middle ground, you get shouted at by all camps. A guard is either hated, or he finds a way to do whatever it takes to not anger the people who can give him hell and end up hating himself. How can any man do that kind of work and remain sane for long?

Entry 13

Do I help enforce the Law and betray people under my protection, or do I continue to help the lawlessness? If only I realized I must make this choice three months ago! Then it would have been easy to do the right thing, now I feel that it is too late to stop. But I have decided, I have found a priest I believe I can trust, I will confess everything to him and ….by the Light I swear I will do whatever he advices. I have done the right thing, I have only ever wanted to protect my people - the Light will be compassionate to me.

The End


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Join date : 2010-01-29

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