Salarin's Lost Journal
Kilrok - December 2, 2005
A torn, battered notebook has been discarded at the steps of the
guild halls. Closer inspection reveals a large "S" on the cover.
A great part of the books contents have been torn from its
bindings, and only a few entries remain.
A wife, a family. Children, sleeping... They possess the touch of
angels, I swear. The living children I once had... a gift from
the heavens, surely. All swept away, as a grain of sand in the
long horizon of our world. All taken by the taint of demons. And
now... this. The memories of my life are few, and I know not what
to feel, or if I am even capable of such a thing. Is it a
blessing that I can no longer remember their faces? I don't know.
I really don't know anything anymore. The chill that runs through
my bones will not relent, not even under the most scorching
flames. It was winter, and a beautiful one at that. The harvest
had done our family well, and we were content to idle away the
cold, enjoying the gifts of the land. I had gathered the children
together, I think. Even as I write this, the memories become
harder to grasp, and I have only newly awaken to this... form. My
parents... Siblings? We were called together for a reunion, one
to cherish and remember eachother and the love we shared. So
happy... All gone. The memories fade from my mind just as the
flesh has from my body. Something is there... a spark in the
black midnight of my mind. Creatures... much like myself! God..
OH GOD! THEY LOOK THE SAME AS I! THEY... no. It wasn't they. At
wasn't them. It was... me? It was dark... too dark. Oh by the
gods... What have I done? Melinda. Melinda... my body is wracked
with torment. What is this? Dust? Trails of dust?? WHAT HAVE THEY
DONE TO YOU!? ... Melinda, my dear love. God, I have lost
everyone and everything I ever loved... why? Another life, and
they would be tears I think. No. Not anymore. What I have done
denies me even true tears. Melinda, I look down at the very hands
that once held you and know. Talons... payment. It was as dark
that night as it was the night I made a deal that I would pay
with everything. My foolish actions have taken everyone in return
for nothing. You aren't even here for me to ask forgiveness,
Melinda. Gods... please let me hold on to her memory a while
longer, please, I beg of you.
More pages are torn, some burned. The charred remains of some can
be found, only as ashes in the binding.
I don't know why I carry this with me any longer. I stare upon
its pages and wonder who's book this is. The writing... It is
similar to my own, but its contents, they mean nothing to me. The
anguish of the man writing here is so powerful, but I cannot
connect with it. Is it my own? Are these my memories? How can
they be, when they mean so little to me. I cannot reason why I
carry it with me. This must be some clue to how I am... what I
am. I have met others like myself, but their eyes... they are
different some how. There is a cold glow, a wicked intent. It is
too easy to see, but I do not understand. I have... gifts. I do
not fully understand them yet, just as I do not understand who,
or what, I am. Where these creatures, such as myself, gather...
the lands around them die. It is almost as if the lands are
poisoned by their, no, our... taint. There are times when I
travel for days, to what goals I do not know. There is a hidden
ambition in my body that drives me forward, but to what end? At
times... I begin to lose myself, my sanity. Things are becoming
too natural. I fall upon my foes with a devilish fury I cannot
understand. Often times, they do not even sense my presence
before they have fallen, their blood poured out onto the ground
as if discarded by the world as waste. What have I become?
More pages have been ripped here, down to the last.
I had visions during my rest. It was as if I was simply a spectre
come uninvited. All around me were lights, candles, a beautiful
fire in a pit. Surrounding the fire was a beautiful family,
smiles abound, and scented foods to no end. Cheers and music,
gifts. Children ran about, chasing eachother mirthfully, the boys
with their wooden swords, and the little girls in their new
outfits, playing with paper ribbon and giggling in delight. It
was cold out that night, and the sky was as black as the dirt at
my feet. No moons, no stars... midnight black, as black as the
darkest souls of hell. As the winds picked up, beginning their
rage, the bitter cold winter air swept into the home through an
open window. An elderly man stood, and went to lock the window
down. The family, oh how beautiful they were. At once, the family
grew deathly quiet. The children gathered around their parents
and the smell of fear grew thick in the air. Where did it come
from? They were all so playful and happy just moments ago... In
the distance! Cruel and unearthly, a howl came screaming through
the night. A tall man, proud and strong, stood up from his chair,
and walked swiftly to the door. Jacket adonned, he went out into
the night, sword at hand. Why was he so eager to go? Why did
those he left behind become to sick with fear? There! At the
stables! Something has moved. A horse screams in its throes of
death, and one amongst the family stirs. Ah, she is beauty. Long
brown hair, the same as the man with the sword. The same as the
three children clutching at her dress. The elder man tries to
stop her, but she will have no part of it. Grabbing her coat, she
rushes out into the bitter chill of the night, winds ripping at
her clothing. No... NO! Please, PLEASE don't go out there! I
don't know why, but you cannot! Please stay here! Why are you
going out there? It isn't safe! Nothing... nothing I can do. Why
do I feel this? But no, it does not stop here. The brown haired
woman runs out into the night, and I after her. Towards the
stables she runs, to a light! One torch, lit... falling. A hard
grunt, and a scream. No, please, go back! Run to the house, not
the stables.. PLEASE! .... My vision is fading. I am left only
with the sounds of that night, the screaming agony of loss and
despair. Melinda... you should never have came after me. They
were here because of my greed. I was blind, Melinda. I could not
see that dealing with the devil would take my life, and yours.
The children, may their souls rest. Forgive me Melinda. You are
all I ever wanted, but it wasn't enough. This will not be the
end.
There is no more to read. The entries are years old, and sticky
with a dust that smells nothing but death. Undeath.
<enter shadow -- Salarin>
*A voice speaks, from the quiet distance. It's place is difficult
to be determined, as it comes from the shadows, and from all
places. The sound is hard, rough, and holds a deep note of gravel
through each spoken word.*
"Hold, for I do not come with malicious intent. I have a message,
and I will have it heard. Do not fear this voice, but do not
doubt it, for pain will visit you swiftly should you leave before
I am finished."
*There is a slight pause, as the wild creatures hush, as if
waiting to hear more.*
"I am Forsaken. My body rots beneath me, and there is nothing to
be done about it. I have lived, and have died, and now I walk
this world with a lingering undeath upon me. This choice was made
for me, and I am not certain whether to welcome it, or loath it.
Only time will give me that answer, and we will both see its
end."
"What message I bring you, I do not exactly know. I feel an odd
compulsion to speak, and have answered that with my actions this
night. You there, who hear my words, listen, for I will not have
them fall deaf ears."
"My memories have left me, as though they have given up. I do not
know who I was in my former life any longer. A word, a woman's
name, and a station in life... these are all that I am left with.
Scourge. Melinda. Fool. I will remain a fool no longer. I demand
a purpose."
"The Dark Lady has shown pity on me, or atleast, has pretense of
such. She is the only one, and while it does not gladden me, it
gives me a sense of duty. To her, I give my loyalty, the
others... they must earn it."
"I often, too often, ponder my existance, and what has lead me to
it. How do I live, when no blood flows through my rotting veins?
What tainted magics course through my twisted soul that I walk
when I have nothing but bone and sinew holding my frame
together?"
"Perhaps I will find reasoning for what I have become. Some fool
orc seems to believe there is purpose in my undeath, and has
pointed me to find Abric, who holds rank among you. I have spoken
with him, and find that he is boldly honest, and feel that this
will serve me well, as I may serve him."
"To this I wonder as well. He has much knowledge, and a will
harder than the steel of my weapons. Cold, calculated... there is
little other way to describe what little I have seen. Great
power, but I shall see how it ends in the future, for there is
nothing else to do but bide my time."
"I have spoken so little, and revealed less. My empty words ring
through the night with no purpose, but I have fulfilled my urge
to speak. I may find you, wanderer, again. I may make you sit and
suffer through this banter once more, all the while pondering my
own intent. Fortune smile upon you, for you may yet have a use in
my future."
<exit shadow>