The Hero Journal of Lady Eleanor Sunhelm
Paladin of the Oath of Glory
Bearer of the Gleaming Laurel
Voice of Triumph
Flame of the Frontlines
Dedicated to those who rise — even when they fall.
About This Journal
This weathered journal is said to have belonged to Lady Eleanor Sunhelm, a paladin whose deeds straddled the line between legend and performance. Whether her words are embellished, exaggerated, or perfectly accurate remains a matter of debate.
What is beyond doubt is this:
many who have read these pages have risen to deeds greater than they believed possible.
Selected Chapter Entries
🛡️ Day 17 – The Quest Begins (or Possibly Day 18)
Today, I lifted a wounded knight from the mud with one hand and hoisted their spirit with the other. A lesser warrior would have called it mercy. I call it a Tuesday.
The wind screamed across the cliffs as if shouting my name (which it might have been, honestly—there were echoes). The beast we faced had twenty eyes, ten limbs, and exactly zero respect for storytelling structure.
I flipped my cape — perfectly timed with the thunderclap — and said:
“Let history thunder with my triumph.”
Then I charged.
🛡️ Page 27 – The Goblin Ladder Incident
We were outnumbered. Out-snacked.
I planted my shield, yelled “Hoist me!”—and the dwarf rogue, to her everlasting amazement, hurled me skyward. I leapt from goblin to goblin like stepping stones in a creek of confusion.
When I landed behind the chieftain, sword raised, I whispered:
“You’ve been upstaged.”
🛡️ Page 50 – Dreams Under the Stars
I asked the others what they’d do after the quest.
The cleric wants to open a bakery.
The rogue muttered something about a vineyard and revenge.
Me? I want a statue. Not a big one. Just tall enough that birds get nervous when they perch on it.
But more than that… I want to deserve it.
🛡️ Page 51 – Letters to No One
Sometimes I write to a person I haven’t met yet—the one who’ll hear my tale in a tavern long from now.
I tell them the truth: that I’ve failed, doubted, fallen—but also stood again, swinging, shouting, shining.
If you find this journal and need a reason to rise…
Let this be it.
Glory’s still out there.
And so are you.
🛡️ Page 58 – The Bridge of Regret
We approached a rickety rope bridge ominously named “The Bridge of Regret.”
Signs warned us: Turn Back. Danger. Poor Engineering.
Naturally, I stepped forward and proclaimed:
“Regret is for later—glory waits now.”
Halfway across, the planks gave way.
I clung to a rope with one hand, sword in the other.
Regret may be real.
But so is showmanship.
🛡️ Page 63 – Ode to the Torchbearer
A rescued child held our only torch. He was shaking, scared—but proud.
I knelt and told him:
“You are the light we follow now.”
Later, I added:
“If I fall, you finish my saga.”
He nodded solemnly.
I hope he never needs to.
🛡️ Page 69 – The Sword in the Tree
Locals called it cursed.
I called it Tuesday’s pull day.
I whispered a blessing, braced my boots, and heaved. The tree cracked with light.
I didn’t keep the sword. I left it in the village square so they could start a story of their own.
(But I left a note: “Recovered by Lady Eleanor. You’re welcome.”)
🛡️ Page 73 – Of Shadows and Squire Songs
The shadows hissed our deepest fears.
Mine said: “You’re just loud. Not legendary.”
Squire Toma stood tall and roared:
“HE IS BOTH!”
She sang a marching song later.
It rhymed valor with tavern.
It was perfect.
🛡️ Page 81 – The Moonlit Duel
A duelist met me under starlight. He demanded flair.
I delivered in full.
We clashed atop the cliffs, swords sparking like lightning flirting with poetry. He saluted. I helped him up.
Glory made us rivals.
Respect made us friends.
🛡️ Page 86 – The Mirror of Truths
A cursed mirror showed me as I might’ve been: tired, bitter, forgotten.
I stared a while.
Then I said:
“I like my smile better.”
I left.
Not unshaken—but undefeated.
🛡️ Page 94 – The Whispering Grove
The trees whispered ancient names.
I whispered a new one.
Toma.
Beneath it, I carved:
“Eleanor followed.”
Let her legend stretch taller than mine.
That, too, is glory.
🛡️ Page 100 – One Day
One day, I will fall.
When I do, tell my tale.
Then go make your own.
I lived loudly, fought fiercely, and wore my laurel not as a crown—but as a promise.
🛡️ Page 107 – The Dragon’s Yawn
The dragon slept. Gold spilled from its mouth like an arrogant coin purse.
The rogue whispered, “We sneak.”
I whispered louder: “We announce.”
I banged my shield.
Its eye opened.
I think it admired my moxie.
Then we ran.
🛡️ Page 130 – The Laughing Blade
My sword rang differently today—every strike echoing like a laugh.
Not madness.
Not cruelty.
Joy.
Not of battle—but of purpose.
To wield joy in battle?
Now that’s divine.
Addendum: Tenets of the Oath of Glory
- Bold Deeds Triumph. Let your actions carve your name into legend.
- Give Glory to the Brave. Honor those who stand tall—and those who stumble with courage.
- Face Fear with a Roaring Heart. Charge forward so others may follow.
- Greatness Demands Grit. Train beyond exhaustion; fight beyond pain.
- Gods Favor the Bold. The greater the foe, the greater the glory.
- Regret is for Later—Glory Waits Now.
- Glory Shared Is Glory Multiplied.
- Glory is Seized. Leap, shout, challenge—be unforgettable.
- Let History Thunder with My Triumph.
- Let No Deed Be Small. Even lifting a weary soul can shine.