Saturday, May 28, 2011

From the journal of Aranel Aelynsar...

It has been a week since we awoke upon that strange battlefield. Now, here I sit with my companions, with the Burning Plains to our backs, and a city bathed in holy light before us. In such a short time, we have traveled far, slain old monsters and made new enemies. I pray that we begin to find the answers we seek, and perhaps even save our world from this blight.

I should detest the monsters we have become. For an elf, the dead feeding upon the living is wholly unnatural, but I find myself...indifferent. While the others generally choose to avoid it where possible, it has come more easily to me. My years in the elvish army taught me to survive at all costs. I do tend to fall back on habits, but I wonder if it is something more. The hunger is present in all of us, but I am beginning to crave it. We become primal and violent when the hunger takes over and we lose control, and I fear those who abstain for as long as they are able may eventually lead to our downfall.

But these fellows are the closest thing to friends I have found since leaving Tellion so many years ago. Sieg, ever so pious, is by far the most stubborn. It has been good to see his spirits recently lifted. Dex, the half-breed, is an honorable man and a natural leader. I am grateful to him for helping me unlock some of the blight's mysteries. Veraxis, our living map, is a curious one. I fear for his safety around the likes of us, however. Even though our party of misfits may have only known each other briefly, we fight as if we have been battling alongside one another for a lifetime. I suppose in one respect, we have been.

Prior to being blight-touched, I was nearing the brink of my own mortality. I fought in battles before most of my companions were born, and suffered too many injuries in my long career. I do not know what fate we will meet in that holy temple, but if we do find the answers we seek, I know not if I will return to my former self. Since tasting the guard's blood in Fendis Ren, I have, ironically, felt more alive than I have in years. But for now, I must go.

Someone is coming...

The collected journals of the elven ranger would later be retold by the bard, in THE BALLAD OF BLIGHT AND BLOOD.

No comments:

Post a Comment