Role

Chapter 23

For the first time, I feel my age. Without the souls to energise me, I would
be brittle, and forced to rely only on my mind. Not that my mind has let
me down, yet, but the aged have been known to lose that too. And yet there is
so much to do. A problem, when you don't know how long is left.

I feel I have made significant progress in prosecuting Father's Will with the
profane. Few step out from hiding when I am around, and of the few that do,
many will not attempt to oppose anything I do, even the taking of their artifact
of power. Calcabrizzo, being a prime example, having not once attempted to defend it,
or to retrieve it, even when I know he has heard me taking it. In fact, he seems
to send himself to a place of silence when he knows it is about to be lost,
as if to pretend he has no knowledge, and therefore no reason, to fight.

However, outside of the war with the profane, which goes well, my other efforts
have not proven fruitful. Perhaps, indeed, because of my focus on the war. I have not
succeeded in my efforts to create a weapon of bone, using the fragments of revenants
that didn't survive their calling against the profane. Nor have I unravelled
the secret of my origins, though I am unclear as to whether that still has any importance.
Finally, I have come to a grinding halt in my attempts to discover a way to defeat
death itself, and it is in this that I wonder if my origins are proving problematic.

In truth, I have lived a long life. Perhaps, when the time comes, I will
find myself ready to rest, though I would never have believed I could.
Ahh, another sign of my age. Nostalgia for the days when prey were thick upon the
ground, and a quick trip to the mausoleum of Galadon usually yielded a fresh body.
I cannot complain though. Their absence is a sign that Father's Will has been done.
It has been my pleasure to sally forth in His name. My pleasure, and my Will.