[Translated from German for the benefit of the masses.]
Greetings.
While I must admit that keeping a journal is highly unusual for me, it is probably for the best, as I am a stranger in a strange land. I must give Herr Baron my thanks for giving me this grand opportunity. After all, how often does one get to travel between dimensions? It is with my high hopes that this journal will be used to catalogue any military campaigns, discoveries or (god forbid) obsessions that perk my interests during my stay.
With all that in mind, I believe that it is necessary to give a brief recount of my history. Knowledge of the past is a key to understanding the present.
During one of the last major outbreaks of plague in Europa, my hometown would have been the epicenter. With the majority of the population dying and no known cure, many of the doctors fled, hoping to save themselves and their families from a horrid death. One doctor stayed, a man by the name of Phineas. Whether it was madness or some innate need to help people that made him stay I will never now.
The poor man was overworked, rushing about attempting to make the last hours of everyone’s pitiful lives as comfortable as possible. I volunteered to help take care of some of the people for him. In any other case, he probably would have scoffed at the idea of a young girl with no real medical knowledge taking care of his patients. But, as time was of the essence and as I had not yet been infected but was more than likely doomed to the same fate as those dying in the street, he quickly taught me some of the basics of patient care and triage.
Needless to say, the following weeks were a form of pure, unadulterated hell. The air reeked of the rotting corpses that still lingered in the streets and houses. It was truly vile. In all my years, I still do not believe that I’ve found anything that can top it. We did our best to keep the villagers from suffering, though it hardly seemed like enough. Tragedy struck on the third week, Phineas contracted the plague and he quickly weathered away and died. I was left alone to do a job meant for twenty. After the last townsperson died I lit the village ablaze. When I was certain that I had not contracted the plague, I left the area for good. Thinking back on it, I must admit that I was rather lucky to have survived.
Being unmarried and with no real skills left me with a dilemma: What was I to do? After narrowing down my options I came to the daunting decision to continue my training as a doctor. You might be thinking, ‘What’s so hard about that? People train to become doctors all the time.’ Well, sir or madam, those people are always male. A female doctor was unheard of at the time. So I did the natural thing to do in the situation: I dressed in drag to attend medical school. Apparently, this must have made some sort of impression on me as some people still have my gender completely wrong.
All went as planned, and I was able to get my doctorate without any real trouble. Perhaps it worked too well. Right after graduating I was drafted into a local spark’s army as a combat medic. My charade did not last very long after that. At the time, it was really impossible to put up a decent front while attempting to perform meatball surgery and not get smashed by giant clanks or shot with ray guns at the same time. Geneva Convention, indeed!
Yet again, luck was with me. I was allowed to keep my job due to a lack of doctors. (As it turns out, most of doctors that had left my town contracted the plague anyway and were the ones who spread it about Europa.) It made the higher ups none too happy. To them I say, “Piss off.” I did my job and I did it damn well!
During one battle I was whisked out to near the front line to help one of Cuirassiers who had a rather nasty head wound. While I worked to stabilize the man, an enemy soldier or construct (or both, I wasn’t really paying attention to the fine details) snuck up on us and attempted to take us both out. I grabbed the wounded cavalryman’s sword and began to swing wildly hoping that I would at least be able to get him away from the downed man. Apparently this tactic fared better than one would expect as I was able to mortally wound the soldier. Yay, me!
This little conflict caused quite the adrenaline rush. Truly intoxicating. You would think that being a doctor constantly surrounded by war would cause some sort of similar rush but the two are far from similar. There’s nothing quite like facing Death with not but a sword and your wits and defeating her. At that very moment, a new obsession had taken root in me.
I quickly finished stabilizing the man and got him safely back to the Medic’s Station. After the man made a full recovery I was able to convince him to instruct me in the art of swordplay in return for more rations and a delay in his return to the battlefield. I was a quick learner (much to his dismay) and could soon best the Cuirassier. I had quite literally gained the title of “Combat Medic”. In the end, I ended up spending the majority of my spare time (ex. sleep hours) on the field causing damage instead of attempting to reverse it. What fun! And to think I was still human at this point. It boggles the mind!
One bright and particularly bloody morning it all ended. A third spark had risen up and joined the fray. It seemed like a mad tidal wave of soldiers rushed across the battle field enveloping everything and everyone it its wake. Blood flowed and men were ripped limb from limb. More men died in the first ten minutes of that battle then the combined totally of both sides’ losses in the months past. We were attacked by what I now know to be Jägerkin.
Those few who were left standing (myself included) were rounded up and taken before the most horrifying man I have ever seen. (You have to hand it to them; the whole Heterodyne family has great stage presence and can really put the ‘fear of god’ into you.) He gave us two options: join them or die. Seeing as I am writing this journal, I believe you can figure out which I chose.
There is very little I actually remember about the process aside from my drinking of the Jägerbräu. (Though I must admit, it has a lovely flavor. I would suggest you try it, but…you know...) I survived, that’s all I or anyone else for that matter, needs to know.
The Masters made good use of both my swordsmanship and medical skills. On some occasions, both were needed at the same time. Can you say conflict of interests? It was my duty to care for any wounded Jägerkin in the absence of one of the Masters or General Gkika. In any case, it was good fun and I could utilize my skills to their full potential. I finally found a group that I could belong to. A family, you could say.
Many years past and the Heterodyne family finally fell. This left the Jägerkin rather exposed. Chaos spread like wildfire all across Europa. Herr Baron quickly rose to power, forcing peace across the land and hired the majority of the Jägerkin. I believe most of you know the story from there.
Since then I’ve taken up knitting to pass the time…
Though a Heterodyne heir has been found and has since rose to power, she has allowed a few of the Jägerkin to continue to work for Herr Baron. In turn, I was given the chance to visit the ‘grid’.
...I love my job.
