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The Spire is fallen.
What we have done will not stand. I see now how our actions become greater than just us. We have destroyed much and created little.
I travel with companions whose motives I am only beginning to understand, and only slightly thus far. Even my Sundrael, on whose friendship and counsel I have always relied, and in whose confidence all things are told and understood, watches with reserved anxiety. Her tail never ceases in its trashing, her eyes survey tirelessly, and she is never far from my side. I believe she fears for me, but my greater fear is she will implore me to quit this group. And I fear she shall not understand when I am forced to choose them over her.
Our band has embarked on a path conceived by another. One who toils ceaselessly, hidden through the actions of others, and guided by the machinations of the most evil sort. Whether we are agents or antagonists is yet to be seen, and our actions are not those of one side or another. We have committed great evil, but done so to crack the behemoth machine clamoring onward.
I have changed since the Spire was conquered. I have changed and in ways not easy to understand or admit. Perhaps it has been subtle, or perhaps it has been sudden, like a fissure in the ground, at first shocking to behold, but easily forgotten and rationalized as always being. This is how I feel. A fissure has formed within me. Stretching onward before me is the warm light of my life lived before the Spire, a life spent exploring. A life spent ever increasing my love for this world, never slaking the thirst I have for its wonders. Behind me lays the fissure, and I upon its precipice, the sirens of the dark path I know I must take pouring their oily song in my ear.
I am headed for darkness. I have turned my back to that which I have held dear for so long, and will soon leap into darkness. I pray my strength will hold and this destiny chosen for me will not rob me of everything.
I fear I am a harbinger of the Shadow.
I fear we are all His.
What we have done will not stand. I see now how our actions become greater than just us. We have destroyed much and created little.
I travel with companions whose motives I am only beginning to understand, and only slightly thus far. Even my Sundrael, on whose friendship and counsel I have always relied, and in whose confidence all things are told and understood, watches with reserved anxiety. Her tail never ceases in its trashing, her eyes survey tirelessly, and she is never far from my side. I believe she fears for me, but my greater fear is she will implore me to quit this group. And I fear she shall not understand when I am forced to choose them over her.
Our band has embarked on a path conceived by another. One who toils ceaselessly, hidden through the actions of others, and guided by the machinations of the most evil sort. Whether we are agents or antagonists is yet to be seen, and our actions are not those of one side or another. We have committed great evil, but done so to crack the behemoth machine clamoring onward.
I have changed since the Spire was conquered. I have changed and in ways not easy to understand or admit. Perhaps it has been subtle, or perhaps it has been sudden, like a fissure in the ground, at first shocking to behold, but easily forgotten and rationalized as always being. This is how I feel. A fissure has formed within me. Stretching onward before me is the warm light of my life lived before the Spire, a life spent exploring. A life spent ever increasing my love for this world, never slaking the thirst I have for its wonders. Behind me lays the fissure, and I upon its precipice, the sirens of the dark path I know I must take pouring their oily song in my ear.
I am headed for darkness. I have turned my back to that which I have held dear for so long, and will soon leap into darkness. I pray my strength will hold and this destiny chosen for me will not rob me of everything.
I fear I am a harbinger of the Shadow.
I fear we are all His.
