The last few days were brutal but, well worth the effort.
I returned today from my week long journey up the hill where I would attempt my quest to become a Morninglord.
With my sword in hand, I ascended the mountain. I had some trouble climbing it but, it wasn’t just physical distress I experienced.
I saw visions. Some were of Mao and Disatot together, sparring and generally having a good time. Others were of Cyndi Quinn dieing…and of my father dieing by my own hands.
A couple days into the climb I came upon a ruined temple by a beautiful waterfall. The temple was coated with what Fern called wine, looked like dried blood to me though. There were also skeletons of what seemed to be the previous inhabitants of the temple…now undead.
That entire day was spent cleansing the undead from the temple. My new blade served me well and it got the first taste of the flesh of my enemies and, it tasted wonderful. Well, I guess…since they were skeletons…of the BONES of my enemies but hey, who’s keeping score?
Several days after cleansing the temple a small pilgrimage of Fae came upon the temple. We sat together and shared stories. I even gave them some of my rations to share. They were hungry mother fuckers. Bitches ate all my food.
The next day was hell. I had no food and it seemed like the temple was sucking the life out of me. Even a damned bird flew by to clown on me. I let it go since I was so damned tired, I was just glad to be rid of it. But of course Fern wouldn’t let an opportunity to talk shit pass her by so I had to hear about how much of a bitch I was for letting the bird leave. Dammit…
At this point I was on the floor, starving to death. Fern had begun to meld with my mind, a sign I was weakening and getting closer to death, too much closer. I was able to fall asleep, though I didn’t know if I would ever wake up…
Morning came, I’ll never know how I made it through that night. I looked to my left and saw Fern sleeping. To my right…the sun. Someone was standing there…in the morning sunlight with my vision still adjusting I could not make out the figure. Then piece by piece, it came into focus.
Glowing bright silver armor. Similar to the one Cyndi Quinn and her paladins wear. Short brown hair and a red bandanna around his neck. On his back? A huge white glowing metal halberd. A beautiful weapon. With my recent conversations with Silver I am learning to appreciate good quality weapons. This one was beautiful.
Standing in front of me, was the image of my father.
He opened his hands and offered me food. He even apologized for all of the things he missed in my childhood. I didn’t know what to think. This was not the man I saw at the inn. This man, was a holy man!
It was hard to believe but, I trusted the image in front of me. My naivete got the best of me. A mistake I don’t plan to make again.
The truth though…was that the bitch was a shape shifter and had poisoned me. Not only did she poison me…she was the one responsible for the attack of the enclave.
We fought for a second but, the poison was too much. She overcame me and knocked me back a few feet. She had already begun to celebrate her victory.
As the poison was coursing through my veins and I was laying there, dieing, I could finally see it. The light at the end of the tunnel. The light that would lead me to glory. The light I had been searching for these last few days.
The light that would help me kill this bitch.
She was laughing at me. She was laughing about how she would be the one to kill the son of Frenna and Piaculum. As she was going on her pointless tirade, I reached for the light. I reached out as hard as I could, barely feeling my limbs at this point.
I, Decipia d’Thurrani shall take the heart of the son of Piaculum. This is the fruit of my alliance with Romulus!
With one last burst of pure force of will, I reached out and touched the light. It was warm, powerful, and purifying. I could feel the poison being cleansed from my veins, my strength returning. I could feel my limbs again. I could even feel the hilt of my blade…
Decipia began to walk towards me. An arrogant predator closing in on her prey. She thought she had won, she thought her prey was helpless. She didn’t understand, she couldn’t understand…
The prey had turned into the predator
I remained still as she approached, my eyes affixed on hers. I wanted to see the look on her face when she realized it. When she realized she had lost. I gripped my blade tighter.
She now stood in front of me, inches from my face. With her arrogant face she placed her blade on my neck as if she was marking her target. She smiled and raised her blade. She reared back as if to strike but, she still didn’t know…
With lightning speed I struck
The first strike, removed both her hands. The second, removed her head. She only had time to stare and mutter something unintelligible, I couldn’t care less about what she had to say. Her hands and blade hit the floor first. Then her head hit the floor as well, wide eyed. Her body slumped over next, devoid of life.
I descended the mountain with the head of the Thurrani bitch that had slandered my mother’s name. I felt renewed, rejuvenated. Full of new strength, divine strength. I plan to send her head back to house Thurrani. That should send the message loud and clear.
Now the Thurrani would know they had someone to fear. Someone to respect. They would remember MY name, not my father’s.
Voluntas Atrum d’Phiarlan