Rosaline's Records, Vol. 2 is the continuation of a collection of Rosaline Haines' personal journal entries, notes, and observations. Most notable among them are her thoughts and opinions of the beings and places she's encountered throughout her life, as well as her own experiences with them. Listed alphabetically, the subject matter for each entry follows a chronological order, starting with the earliest date recorded and ending with the latest.
It's been well over a year since my last entry. It feels longer. I must admit, I had grown rather fond of writing. Expressing my thoughts and feelings was—and should remain—a cathartic exercise. Without it, I fear I might regress, losing what progress I've made in terms of emotional and intellectual growth. Thus marks the beginning of the second volume that is my lifework. Enjoy!
That which describes the cosmos and our place in it, including, but not limited to, those planes that are incorporeal, parallel, coterminous, or what have you.
Year 7 of the Sixth Age
The aim of this thesis is to examine and illustrate a new model of the universe by re-evaluating our cosmology. Knowledge of the elder gods has grown exponentially since the dawn of the Divine Age, all but confirming that the lesser gods such as Guthix and Saradomin didn't create Gielinor as some may claim, nor did they shape the planes as we know them. By analyzing the history of the Mahjarrat and plumbing the depths of Guthix's memories, we can posit that its true creators—the elder gods—did indeed exist as far back as the creation of Freneskae and the Mahjarrat race, thereby confirming an approximate terminus a quo of the birth of the cosmos.
It's difficult to say whether or not Freneskae was the first world made by the elder gods. The connection between Jas, the Stone of Jas, and the dragonkin suggests otherwise, but given the lack of pertinent information we can neither confirm nor deny the existence of earlier worlds. However, we can assume a timeline and the configuration of the universe by exploring other races and their homeworlds. Mahjarrat, for example, are an ancient race from an ancient world. Vampyres and demons are also ancient, long-lived creatures, and their homeworlds boast aged histories. Now compare their lifespans with those of dwarves, goblins, and humans; the difference between averages are astounding. Thus, a correlation emerges (one I wish to further explore as soon as cooperative subjects become readily available), in that races with greater lifespans are from worlds that were made during or nearer the infancy of the universe.
Knowing this, our universe would have the formation of a tractricoid (in the third dimension). On either end would be Freneskae and Gielinor while the remaining planes lay in-between them. Note: the Hainer model doesn't include the incorporeal and supradimensional planes such as the Spirit Plane, Shadow Realm, etc. Those exist beyond the scope of the physical laws and require further examinations into the metaphysical nature of the universe itself. Otherwise, what this paper should provide is a suitable foundation for such future studies that explore the broader nature of the universe and the progression of its creation.
Those families whose lineage originates from a figure of great importance or prowess. Seldom are the bloodlines that take pride in their ancestor, the goatherd.
House of Aren
Year 7 of the Sixth Age
The House of Aren are like cockroaches. They number greatly and infest every human kingdom on Gielinor. I avoid noble houses as a rule of thumb, but you cannot avoid the Arens. Institutes, Mahjarrat, governments—you name it and an Aren you will find. Now, I can't say my experiences with them have been awful. On the contrary, the intrigue that surrounds them drew me in like honey and almost swept me off my feet. The appeal is one I understand completely but must resist. To associate with them even further than I have is a recipe for disaster. The legend of Galethorn and the Aren artefacts are tempting. I couldn't trust myself not to abuse them as I have many others.
History will remember the Arens, for good or ill, and that is just about all that can be said.
Year 8 of the Sixth Age
Oh, the irony! The blood of cockroaches flows through my veins. I can't stop laughing. It explains so much. My proclivity for misfortune and disaster... could it be a curse of the bloodline? No matter. I'm no Aren, not truly. They have their ways and I have mine. Still, it may do me good to have family I can speak with. Will they invite me to future gatherings? I would love to see Arachnea again. She and I have a lot to bond over. Ha!
Conspiracies, schemes, and intrigue; whose fingers are in which pies and why (pure speculation be damned).
Year 7 of the Sixth Age
I first became aware of this threat when a rift began manifesting in Burthorpe. It bound Gielinor and Vampyrium together, granting a small force of aviansie, golems, and vampyres access to our world. They worked quickly, spreading far and wide, and saw a citadel risen over White Wolf Mountain. Working together with those present, I was able to terminate the connection, closing the rift, but it was too late. With the world newly endangered, a coalition was formed to address it.
Magus Concendo, the seasoned adventurer, David, Browntoes the goblin, myself, Pyrus Wrath, and Alexandra Summers fought alongside black and white knights and wizards in a pitched battle to sever the anchor tying the only just summoned citadel to the mountaintop. It was difficult and not without loss. Fortunately, we did learn the identity of the mastermind leading the invading army. It was Siirshak, a dragonkin of old with grand ambitions. This citadel was but one of six total, each armed and garrisoned with just as many as we slew.
We were each then given a choice: join him or inevitably die. Well, I took it. Someone had to after all. If I hadn't then we wouldn't know his plan of action. Siirshak means to secure environments where the veil between worlds are thin and magic abundant. The elder gods threaten worlds beyond ours, and it's by his logic that we must destroy Gielinor to stop them. The abyss is the instrument through which he shall siphon anima through, killing all life but ending that which would kill it anyway.
I can't deny agreeing with his reasoning. Starving the elder gods is more feasible than killing them with a sword or spear. Still, there's no guarantee that it will succeed. I can't risk this world for that. However, that doesn't mean I can't pretend to. It's a unique opportunity I have, serving as his emissary to the various kingdoms. Saving lives is what matters now. I just hope my allies can see through this deception.
The Empty Throne
Year 7 of the Sixth Age
The Empty Throne of Asgarnia. I didn't know what to expect when I put forth my name as a candidate. Surprisingly, the Regency Council was very welcoming and actually considered me despite my history. I thought for sure my past would see me evicted immediately, if not arrested, but that would come later. The first assembly saw myself and another woman—Summer Silversmith—as the favorites. There was even talk of a diarchy. The second assembly changed that. One of the councilwomen, one whom I fought with against the forces of Siirshak, brought up my summoning of demons. I was disqualified quickly after that. As luck would have it, I made a name for myself with the soon-to-be-crowned King of Misthalin.
King Henry the Mad is a strange fellow. He isn't too bright and is prone to forgetfulness and the occasional outburst. I wasn't the only one to notice. His court has doubled in size since the second assembly, and all manner of things have happened in Varrock. I'm surprised to see him still breathing to be honest. I've managed to worm myself into his service. We'll see how far that takes me—or how dead it makes me.
Emperor Hans—the Mad King under his imperial title—survived my attempt to poison him. The man couldn't handle his cheese. It made a harrowing night: I had to "dispose" of the block by eating it, poison and all. It made for a painful week. That was the beginning of my streak of bad luck. Henry later tried to arrest me because a Concendo just had to suggest imprisoning mages in "holy" cells. I suppose he conveniently forgot I was his Court Mage, but no matter. The Lumbridge guardsmen are incompetent, and I escaped shortly afterwards. Now I have a just cause to retaliate. This farce has gone far enough. I will see the Mad King stripped of his throne and crown, if only to rub his face in it.
It begins. I wonder what they will call my revolt. If it lasts for much longer. Henry has disappeared. Surprisingly, it wasn't my doing. It's likely another of the council whose patience wore thin and made their move. It could even be a ruse to bait disloyal subjects so that he might know them by name. Henry didn't strike me as being that clever, but his madness may have been an act. I and my allies must proceed cautiously. Empty thrones have been the downfall of many before me. It's not worth dying over no matter how badly I want it.
Year 8 of the Sixth Age
Where to even begin? The Mad King is lost. I couldn't find him no matter how hard I tried. Gielinor is better off for it. As for my rebellion, well... I suppose it was a success. He no longer rules the kingdom, but neither do I. Karma does. She who ruled before him. I was surprised, to be honest. Henry returned it to her as his last royal act. Everything fell apart after that. Those who were my allies were more than happy with Queen Karma. Lumbridge and I couldn't hope to stand against a united kingdom alone, so I gave my terms and left the castle as Countess of Draynor. It's far from the city and just where I needed to be right then. I had a lot of respect for Karma. We were friends, maybe even more. It felt like I'd been stabbed in the back.
It was for the best. Though a small county, Draynor is close to the Wizards' Tower. I'm more than happy to help them as they have me. I also made some changes regarding how race and religion are dealt with. Why not? Goblins deserve better than what Bandos gave them. The queen approved and that was that. Then fate intervened by the name of Xel Praven, regent of Asgarnia. He had tired of being King Joseph's caretaker and named me the new acting regent. The White Knights couldn't have been happy about that, but they never challenged it. I should thank Saradomin for that. Alas, Asgarnia was then struck by the mother of all evil: a creature so vile I dare not speak its name.
Oh, all right. It was me. I had a few souls stolen so I could become the new queen of Asgarnia. No one was hurt and said souls have been safely returned except for Joseph's. The boy king had to be made incapable, so I've taken his and hid it somewhere safe while his body remains in stasis. He's my heir until such a time the world forgets him. Horrible but necessary. Worse is having to marry some milquetoast nobleman to keep the peace. I suspect he will try to poison me or something silly like that. For his sake, I hope he doesn't.