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The Journals of Heathmoor II

10/06/2019 09:00 AM


Knights, Vikings, Samurai. Your actions in the Faction War have shaped the world of For Honor as we know it.

It is now time to relive the greatest battles of the Faction War through the lens of the many heroes who fought them.

Discover how your past decisions have made history in the lands of Heathmoor.


The Samurai surprised all in Season 9, Campaign 1 of For Honor's Faction War. The Myre was greatly dominated by the Vikings until the Samurai turned the tide in Battle 4. From Dead Shades, they began to reconquer all their territories, marched on the North, and expanded their borders till Chiffer in Battle 15. The second Journals of Heathmoor entry gives more details about one of the Samurai's greatest comebacks in Heathmoor's history, and how a Shugoki gained a new strength that benefited the whole faction.






… Then came a lone and tall Hitokiri
Carrying a massive masakari.
She had journeyed to sentence Ryoshi,
An evil heart shrouded with secrecy.

Yet the dead rose, Ryoshi burst into laughter.
A flower fell, and his smile began to wither.

Excerpt from a Samurai poem.

The Himnar Clan had gone missing for weeks. After fighting a grand battle in Goat Forest, their whereabouts became unknown to all Vikings, who began to lose hope in ever finding them. All except Kara, whose resolve had not faltered. The leader of the Himnars, a Warlord named Berimund, was the one who had inspired her to become a Valkyrie. He was also a stubborn old boar who had outlived many, including the Blackstones.

To Kara’s utmost surprise, she would find him not in the Myre, but far up north at the gates of Grunnfjord's citadel. He reappeared not as the valiant, hotheaded warrior Kara used to quarrel with, but as a mere shadow of himself. The Warlord’s face was creased with lines of fear, and he could barely speak. The Valkyrie brought her best healers to save him; the Warlord finally regained a glimpse of consciousness and began to tell the most unsettling tale…


The assault of Goat Forest had been huge a success. The Vikings of Berimund had crushed the Samurai despite the intense deluge that had soaked the battlefield; only a few enemies had survived and fled East, to Dead Shades. The Warlord was determined to end the last survivors quickly, then return North and celebrate with one of his glorious feasts.

Berimund and his warriors marched on a small, abandoned village of Dead Shades called Kaidan. It was a place shrouded with fear since a Hitokiri had come to slaughter all its townsfolk. Some even rumored the Hitokiri had become the ‘spirit of death’ and awakened some forbidden power. While the Warlord did not believe these tall tales, he stayed on guard. He ordered his warriors to search the pagodas, yet they all seemed empty. As a chill swept through the Vikings, Berimund clutched his shield and looked for more clues around him. There were only barren trees, worn statues… and a smell of corpses and flowers that was both enticing and nauseating.

A Viking scout pointed at the trees. Tiny, rosy buttons had just appeared on their branches. All of a sudden, they began an unnatural bloom. In a blink of the eye, they twirled, detached from the twigs, brushed the ground…

... and turned to pure blood.

Carmine pools flooded toward the scout, who froze in terror. Berimund shouted more orders angrily. The strange flowers, the blood, they were just some Samurai illusion. Some desperate attempt to scare the Vikings away…

Then, from the barks of all trees, fleeting silhouettes loomed darkly and swirled. Their ethereal eyes widened. Their distorted mouths howled. One by one, they turned to flesh and formed an army of undead Samurai.

Death had blackened their veins, whitened their skins. A massive, undead Shugoki lifted his kanabo and crushed the Viking scout who fell like a wrinkled leaf on the foggy ground. Most of the Northerners began to panic, but Berimund refused to believe such madness. He would not let the Samurai confuse his warriors with wicked tricks. The old Viking brandished his sword and locked eyes with the ghastly Shugoki. The Samurai let out a feral scream and charged the Warlord, who dodged the attack swiftly. Berimund used the opening to knock the Shugoki down and nailed his sword in the opponent’s chest. As he bashed his sword with his shield, he called for his warriors to follow his lead. The Samurai were no invicible ghouls, just some maniacs messing with their heads!

Yet the Shugoki rose up. He removed the Warlord’s sword from his unscathed chest as if it were some insignificant twig. He grabbed Berimund’s throat and whispered in a hollow voice…


“Ryoshi! Ryoshi…”

The Warlord clutched Kara’s forearm. For a brief second, his skin turned pale, his veins darkened. Startled, the Valkyrie pushed Berimund away but the marks quickly disappeared, and the old man fell silent.

Berimund was dead.

After weeks gathering more Intel on the Battle of Kaidan, Kara found another witness. Ami, a young Samurai soldier, had deserted her own clan after what she saw in the village…


The young Ami was one of the lucky soldiers who had survived the battle in Goat Forest. When she learned they would seek refuge in Kaidan though, she feared the worst. To her best knowledge, no Samurai had entered the cursed village since Sakura’s carnage.

Ami had pictured a nightmarish town littered with the old carcasses of the Hitokiri's victims. What she found instead was a peaceful village that bore no trace of the massacre. As the Samurai traversed its empty streets, a dense mist muffled every footstep. A tranquil breeze swept through the paper lanterns in the trees; to Ami’s bewilderment, they all lit up when the Samurai passed.

Then a horde of daunting warriors came into view. Vikings.

The Samurai regrouped. Fear crawled up Ami’s spine as she watched Berimund and his warriors rushing toward them. She glanced at her leader, knowing his strength would give her courage. He was Okuma, the greatest Shugoki of the Minamoto Clan. In Goat Forest, he had risked his life to protect his troops. Outnumbered by the Vikings in Kaidan, Okuma was once more standing with pride and resolve. Following his example, Ami drew her sword and vowed to herself that she would not let her comrades down. She would fight and die with honor.

Then came the spirits.

Both Vikings and Samurai froze as they saw them seep from the trees. Dark silhouettes swirled in the fog, whispering ominous curses to all. They were the ghosts of Sakura’s victims. Ami clenched her teeth and closed her eyes. This was not how she imagined her own death. After only one week fighting for the Minamoto Clan, killed by some vengeful spirits… unless they trapped her in some Samurai hell for all eternity…!

Yet the ghosts did not attack the Samurai. They twirled and reaped the souls of the Vikings. One by one, the enemies fell on the dusty ground in complete silence and turned into strange volutes of black smoke.

Only Berimund seemed to resist the ethereal warriors who finally gathered and fused into one...a single warrior of flesh and bones wielding two swords. In a blink of the eye, the warrior approached Berimund and whispered something Ami could not hear. Yet his shadow was...


Suddenly Ami’s skin turned white and her veins darkened. She grabbed the Valkyrie’s arm and screamed:

“Ryoshi! He’s coming!”

The Samurai’s voice cracked. She fell on the ground, lifeless.

Determined to solve Kaidan's mystery, Kara sent spies to learn more about the Shugoki named Okuma. She learned that he had conquered most of Valkenheim in only a few weeks with a handful of Samurai, which were rumored to be 'possessed'. The Shugoki was now at the gates of Chiffer Stronghold with his army. Kara needed to hear one last testimony before fighting him though. One that did not come from a Samurai nor a Viking, but from a lone treasure hunter named Eric…


The Mask of Ryoshi. When old Eric learned about it, he knew this could be the last treasure he needed to make his dream come true. With the huge amount of steel he would earn from it, he could buy the Phoenix Fire Tavern for himself...

It took him countless pints with a Samurai rogue, an eccentric Shaolin monk and an errant Knight to learn where the Mask was. It was supposedly hidden in a shrine of a small village called Kaidan. Old Eric ventured there alone – he was not the kind to share his profits. Excitement grew as he wandered the quiet alleys of the abandoned town. He knew all about Kaidan's chilling stories and rejoiced. Who would dare to enter a village cursed by its former leader, one who had turned to a ghost because of a strange mask he wore? Only a long time looter would be crazy enough to unearth the secrets of Kaidan.

Eric searched the pagodas thoroughly, but all he found were piles of dust. Not even some aged ale or good food that could fill his empty stomach. Nothing that would resemble his future meals at the Phoenix Fire Tavern with marinated chopsticks, stuffed cabbage, and some Phoenix Fire Mead...

As he daydreamed about such delicacies, the treasure hunter tripped on a rock and fell at the entrance of a vast shrine. It seemed that fortune was favoring him. The grand, ominous statue that stood before him was exactly like the warriors described. It was the shrine of Ryoshi!

As he began to search the shrine's altar, a loud howl echoed behind him.

A battle. Again. As much as Eric admired warriors of all factions, he also wished he would not have to cross their path so often while looting. He ran into an abandoned pagoda and peered through a window. Samurai and Vikings began to fight ruthlessly in the village. Eric observed them for a while, then noticed a weird silhouette looming in the distance. A lonesome warrior wielding two blades, with a strange shadow following him…

It was Ryoshi. The former leader of Kaidan, and the Hitokiri's first victim.

As Ryoshi crossed the battlefield, all Samurai and Viking fell into a deep sleep. Eric himself felt weary, but struggled to stay awake as he watched the ghostly warrior approach a large Shugoki. Ryoshi murmured something Eric could not hear. Then the Shugoki woke with his skin whitened and his veins darkened; the rest of the Samurai rose up, and Ryoshi vanished.

It was as if some otherworldly strength possessed the Samurai warriors. In a blink of the eye, they massacred all the Vikings... and poor Eric ran away as fast as he could.


Shaken, the treasure hunter could not speak any longer. Kara gave him good steel for his valuable testimony. It would not be enough to cover all his expenses for the Phoenix Fire Tavern, but it was a good start...

The Valkyrie called for her best warriors and prepared for battle. She would avenge Berimund and root out the wicked Samurai in Valkenheim. Whether Okuma and his warriors were mad, blessed or cursed by the Hitokiri’s legacy... she would have to find her own answer on the battlefield.

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