Role

Chapter 3

I Remember the Wind. I Remember the Pain.
Added Mon May 7 17:26:13 2018 at level 12:

As I said. I remember the winds rushing through the plains that day...

And the wind took them from me as well...

The last remains of them crumbling apart and drifting away...

I lurched over and dropped to my knees in torment.

It was in that moment that my slivered being would be met with completion as
my flesh would join with the fractured spirit. A flare of fire erupted from
nearby and burst across my face. The smell of burnt flesh and the sound of
sizzling was the last thing I remember of that day.

My people cared for me and tended to my wounds, ushering me back from the
point of death and sleep. But the voices. I heard them as they wept for
those fallen in the aftermath of that day. But I also heard the cause.

The worms and spiders as they call them. The Reavers of Thar-Eris and of
the Outlanders had caused the destruction that day. In pursuit of an elven
guard of the Tribunal Spire. My people said it was something that was meant
to be. The Great Cycle is as it is. And we return to her, even if it is in
a flash.

I remember the anger and rage that day when I awoke. I lashed out at my
people for forgiving them. For accepting things as they were. For lying
to themselves. For pretending that there vision. Was truth...

Through the bandages and poultice wrapped around my face, it was then I
saw the strange wound along my waist as roared in fury at my people. The
tissue was scarred over, however a pustulent abscess seeped from the skin.

I pushed the elders and wise woman aside and ran. I reached the dark woods
and was swallowed into the enveloping darkness of their branches overhead.


I was cold, naked, and wet from the rain as it pummeled me from above. I was
about to give up when I seen a glint of metal flash nearby as lightning lit
the treetops above. I darted towards a cave from whence it had came and there
I would find comfort. A comfort that would help me see the real vision of the
world and all its inhabitants. You see this cave was a smugglers den where
they hid there merchandise. And these smugglers, their product was fine wine
and dwarven ale. Bottles upon bottles filled several metal crates. I pressed
my mouth upon the lip of the first bottle and it warmed me so. I repeated it
over and over again. There in my imbibed state I spotted it. Wedged hidden
behind two crates was the skeletal remains of a humanoid. It was unrecognizable
of course, however there was one detail that was all too familiar. The long
military coat draped across the bones. It was the elf that the reavers of the
tree chased. The state of remains was a testament of how long these crates had
been abandoned. I kneeled down and took the coat from him, placing it upon my
shoulders to warm me so. I spend days in that cave. Perhaps even weeks. Maybe
even a season or two. Time became irrelevant. It didn't matter to me.