Role

Chapter 3

Many weeks passed, fights for survival and possessions, murder for food. He
did not relish these actions, though they didn't feel wrong. He would not
relish them because they were necessary to live, though at times his body
reveled in the rush of combat. How many times he tested himself to become
stronger and to eliminate those that would see him dead.

It was after one of these nearly fatal engagements, after he had taken what
he wanted from the still warm body. Jeede found a place to rest, closed his
eyes when he was sure no one had followed him, and fell asleep.

When Jeede woke it was jolting and sudden. Cold sweat covered his body,
making the cloth under his light armor stick to his skin. He had dreamt of
his past, of his fight against those they called the dark. He had seen
himself slinking through the shadows of Hamsah Mu'tazz, dagger in hand,
sliding into place behind an imperial priest. He was ready to strike and slay
the demon, and then the world shook. Jeede remembered looking behind him as
everything seemed to vibrate, remembered seeing a winged statue rise above
him as darkness fell from the ceiling. And that is when he was struck be
something falling from above, a loose stone perhaps.